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lila-lou · 6 months ago

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✨His true fate - Part 1/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap, tough topics

Word Count: 4167

A/N: Alright. I'm only going to write this once. Danneel doesn't come off well in this story. She's pretty much described as the devil himself. She does and says things that are absolutely awful. In this Story she's pretty much the biggest bitch. I don't want to hear any complaints because it's just a story. Fiction. No hate towards anyone. So, that being said, I hope you enjoy reading it.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Jared parked in front of the airport in Austin, his fingers tapping restlessly on the steering wheel. It had been too long since he had seen Jensen outside of the conventions. This visit was different, just for spending time together, no panels, no crowds. As he waited, Jared couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness. It was the first time Jensen was visiting him after he moved away from Austin, a chance for them to catch up without the chaos of their usual meet-ups.

As Jared watched the stream of passengers disembarking from the plane, his mind drifted back to the rocky path that had led them to this moment. Their friendship had weathered its fair share of storms, strained by distance, conflicting schedules, and the pressures of their respective careers. Yet, despite the challenges, they had somehow found their way back to each other. It had taken time, effort, and countless late-night conversations, but slowly, they had begun to rebuild what they had once thought lost.

This weekend, as they celebrated Jared's birthday together, it felt like a new chapter unfolding. Jensen's decision to fly to Austin, despite his busy filming and convention schedule, spoke volumes about the strength of their renewed bond. As Jared caught sight of Jensen emerging from the crowd, a genuine smile spread across his face, washing away any lingering doubts or tensions. This weekend was about reconnecting, about rediscovering the camaraderie that had always defined their relationship.

Jensen opened the trunk and unceremoniously tossed his suitcase inside before collapsing into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, looking every bit as exhausted and worn-out as Jared had feared.

"Wow, someone looks like they've been through the wringer", Jared teased, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he started the car.

Jensen shot him a mock glare, his eyes heavy with fatigue. "Thanks, Jared. Always great to get a warm welcome", he quipped, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice despite his worn-out demeanor.

"Just calling it like I see it, man", Jared chuckled, pulling out of the parking spot and heading towards the exit. "But seriously, you look like you could use a week-long vacation on a deserted island".

"Tell me about it", Jensen muttered, sinking back into the seat and closing his eyes for a moment. "Filming has been brutal lately. I swear, I'm starting to feel every single one of my thirty-something years".

Jared couldn't help but chuckle at Jensen's dramatics. "Thirty-something? More like ancient, old man", he teased, earning himself a playful shove from Jensen.

"Hey, watch it, Padalecki. I may be old, but I can still kick your ass", Jensen retorted with a smirk, the weariness momentarily forgotten as the car with little laughter.

As Jared merged onto the highway, the gentle hum of the car filled the silence between them. Glancing over at Jensen, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was more going on beneath the surface.

“So, it’s just the filming that’s got you looking like you’ve aged a decade overnight?”, Jared ventured, keeping his tone light but his concern evident.

Jensen let out a heavy sigh, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. “Yeah, filming’s been intense, but that’s not all of it”, he admitted, his voice tinged with resignation.

Jared knew better than to push too hard, but he couldn’t ignore the sense of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. “Is everything okay at home?”, he asked tentatively, knowing full well the delicate balance Jensen was trying to maintain.

Jensen’s jaw tightened, a flicker of pain crossing his features before he masked it with a forced smile. “Yeah, everything’s fine”, he replied, his tone betraying the lie.

But Jared wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “Come on, man. You don’t have to pretend with me”, he pressed gently, his concern outweighing any discomfort he felt broaching the topic.

Jensen hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. “Things… haven’t been great”, he admitted, his gaze fixed on his hands folded in his lap.

Jared could sense Jensen's internal struggle, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Before he could push him further, however, Jensen seemed to retreat, throwing up his defenses like a shield.

"Hey, forget I said anything, okay?", Jensen mumbled, his voice barely audible over the sound of the car's engine. "Let's just focus on having a good time this weekend. I could really use a break… from everything".

Jared nodded, respecting Jensen's boundaries even as his heart ached for his friend's pain. "Yeah, of course", he replied, his tone gentle yet supportive. "We'll make sure this weekend is all about relaxing and having fun. No drama, no stress".

Jensen managed a small, grateful smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks. I appreciate it", he said quietly, a hint of vulnerability slipping through his usual facade of strength.

As they continued down the highway, the weight of their unspoken conversations hung heavy in the air, but for now, they both agreed to set aside their worries.

As the miles flew by, a more simple conversation flowed easily between Jared and Jensen, the tension of their earlier exchange dissipating with each passing moment. It didn't even take 30 minutes until Jared pulled into the familiar driveway of his family home.

"Home sweet home", Jared announced with a grin, turning off the engine and casting a sideways glance at Jensen. "Welcome back to Casa Padalecki".

Jensen chuckled, the weariness in his eyes momentarily replaced by a spark of excitement. "Thanks, man. It's good to be here", he replied, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As Jared and Jensen climbed the front porch steps, they were met with the eager faces of Tom and Shep peeking out from behind the screen door. The boys' eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of Jensen standing there, and their excitement was palpable.

"Uncle Jensen!", Tom exclaimed, darting forward to wrap his arms around Jensen in a tight hug, his enthusiasm bubbling over.

Shep followed suit, his smaller frame joining in the embrace as he grinned up at Jensen. "We didn't think you were really coming!", he said, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and joy.

Jensen chuckled warmly, returning their hugs with equal affection. "Well, here I am", he replied, tousling their hair playfully. "I couldn't miss the chance to hang out with you two".

As they stepped inside the house, laughter and chatter filled the air, the boys buzzing with excitement at the prospect of spending time with their favorite ´uncle´. Jared couldn't help but smile at the sight, grateful for the bond that had formed between Jensen and his sons over the years. With Jensen back in their lives, even just for the weekend, he knew that memories would be made and cherished for years to come.

As Tom and Shep dashed off to explore the backyard, their laughter echoing through the house, Jensen turned to Jared with a curious expression.

"So, where's Gen and mini Gen?", Jensen asked, a playful twinkle in his eye as he referred to Jared's wife and daughter.

Jared glanced at the clock on the wall, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "They're out shopping", he replied, his voice tinged with amusement. "Looks like it's just us guys for now".

Jensen chuckled, nodding in understanding. "Ah, a little father-son bonding time, huh?", he remarked.

"Yeah, something like that", Jared replied, his gaze drifting toward the backyard where the sounds of his sons' laughter drifted in through the open door.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the backyard, Jared and Jensen found themselves sitting side by side, beers in hand, watching as Tom and Shep played with the chickens.

Jared took a sip of his beer, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. "So, how are the kids?", he asked, his tone casual but genuine.

Jensen's smile faltered slightly at the mention of his own children, a flicker of sadness crossing his features before he quickly masked it with a forced grin. "They're good", he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "Busy with school and all that".

Jared nodded, though he could sense there was more to the story than Jensen was letting on. He had seen firsthand how Jensen had thrown himself into his work, often using it as a means of escape from the troubles at home.

"Must be tough juggling all that work and family", Jared remarked sympathetically, knowing all too well the pressures of balancing a career with family responsibilities.

"Yeah, it's… still challenging", Jensen admitted, his gaze drifting off into the distance. "But hey, enough about me. How's Gen and the kids? They keeping you on your toes?".

Jared chuckled, grateful for the diversion. "Always", he replied with a fond smile. "But wouldn't have it any other way".

As they sat together in the fading light, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the air, Jared couldn't shake the feeling that there was still so much left unsaid between them.

As the evening wore on and the sky darkened, Gen and Odette returned home, their arrival greeted with hugs and laughter from Jensen. They exchanged pleasantries and caught up on each other's lives, the warmth of their conversation filling the air.

However, as the hour grew late and the kids were ushered off to bed by Gen, a sense of tranquility settled over the house. Now alone in the quiet of the evening, Jared and Jensen found themselves relaxing on the porch once more, the glow of their beers casting long shadows in the dim light.

But their peace was short-lived as Jensen's phone rang, breaking the serene atmosphere with its shrill tone. With a frustrated groan, Jensen glanced at the caller ID, his annoyance evident.

"Danneel?", Jared asked quietly, his brow furrowing with concern as he watched Jensen quickly silence the call.

Jensen nodded, his jaw clenched in frustration. "Yeah", he muttered, his voice heavy with irritation. "Probably just checking in to make sure I'm not having too much fun".

Jared could sense the tension radiating from his friend, the weight of Jensen's strained marriage casting a shadow over their evening.

Jared let out a heavy sigh, the weight of unspoken words pressing heavily on his chest. Finally, unable to contain his thoughts any longer, he spoke up, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and concern.

"Jensen, can I ask you something?", Jared began, his gaze fixed on his friend. "Why won't you just finally leave her?".

The question hung in the air, laden with the weight of years of silence and suppressed emotions. Jared knew it was a delicate subject, one that had been tiptoed around for far too long, but he couldn't stand by any longer and watch his friend suffer in silence.

Jensen's expression hardened, a flicker of defiance crossing his features before he quickly masked it with a forced smile. "It's complicated. You know that", he replied evasively, his voice betraying the turmoil raging beneath the surface.

"But is it really?", Jared pressed, his tone gentle yet insistent. "I mean, I get that there are always reasons, but at what point do you say enough is enough?".

Jensen's jaw tightened, his gaze drifting off into the distance as he wrestled with his inner demons. "I wish it were that simple", he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you have no idea what she's capable of".

Jared's heart ached at the pain etched into Jensen's features, the deep-rooted fear and resignation that seemed to consume him. But he refused to back down, knowing that sometimes, the hardest conversations were the ones that needed to be had the most.

"I know it's fucking scary", Jared admitted softly, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on Jensen's shoulder. "But you don't have to face it alone, you know. We're here for you, no matter what".

Jensen's grip tightened around his beer bottle, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "You don't get it, Jared", he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness. "If I try to leave, she'll make sure I never see my kids again. She'll ruin me. In every fucking way possible".

Jared's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "And what do you think she's doing right now? Keeping you trapped, suffocating you with her control", he retorted, his voice tinged with anger. "She's already ruining you, Jensen. Can't you see that?".

Jensen's jaw clenched, his fists balling at his sides as he struggled to find the words to express the turmoil raging within him. "I can't risk losing my kids, my image, my career", he finally admitted, his voice choked with emotion. "I can't".

Jared's heart ached for his friend, the pain etched into every line of his face. But he refused to let Jensen succumb to the fear and manipulation any longer.

"You're stronger than that, Jensen", Jared said firmly, his voice filled with conviction.

Jared's frustration softened into determination. "Listen to me, Jensen. You need to stop letting her control you", he said firmly, his voice unwavering. "You just need to get yourself a damn good lawyer".

Jensen's gaze flickered with uncertainty, the weight of Jared's words sinking in. "But what if it's not enough?", he whispered, his voice filled with doubt.

"It's a start", Jared replied, his tone resolute. "And you're not alone in this. We'll find you the best lawyer, one who'll fight tooth and nail to make sure she won´t ruin your life more than she already did".

As they sat in the quiet of the backyard, the weight of their conversation hanging heavy in the air, Jensen felt a glimmer of hope stir within him. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of the darkness that had consumed him for so long.

But then, with a heavy sigh, Jensen's resolve wavered as he confessed, "I can't take it anymore, Jared. Every time I'm home, I feel like I'm suffocating. I drown myself in conventions just to get away from her. And when I am home, I'm mostly drunk just to be able to deal with her".

Jared's heart sank at the raw honesty in Jensen's words, the pain and despair evident in every syllable. But he refused to let his friend continue down this destructive path.

"We'll figure it out, Jensen," Jared said firmly, his voice filled with conviction.

Jared knew how bad Jensen really was. For years he could do nothing but watch as Danneel destroyed his best friend. Publicly humiliated him, manipulated him and mentally abused him. She gradually destroyed his self-confidence, his friendships and caused him to isolate himself from everyone. Jared wanted nothing more than to finally see his best friend happy again. Truly happy. But with Danneel and her toxic personality by his side, that wouldn't happen. So he hoped to use the time they had together well enough to somehow get through to Jensen.

As Jensen made his way to the guestroom an hour later, the weight of the evening's conversation hung heavy on his shoulders, his mind consumed by a whirlwind of emotions and stress. Each step felt like a burden, the familiar sense of suffocation creeping in as he retreated from the warmth of Jared's home to the solitude of his temporary sanctuary.

Slipping into the guestroom, Jensen closed the door behind him with a heavy sigh, the darkness of the room enveloping him like a shroud. He sank onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands as he tried to quiet the storm raging within him.

But despite his best efforts, the memories and fears clawed their way to the surface, threatening to overwhelm him with their intensity.

And as he lay there in the silence of the night, the weight of his burdens pressing down upon him, Jensen couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be a way out of the darkness that had consumed him for so long. But for now, all he could do was try to find solace in the quiet of the night, hoping that somehow, someway, he would find the strength to face another day.

The next morning, Jared and Gen bustled around the kitchen, the savory aroma of breakfast filling the air as they worked together with Odette by their side. The sound of laughter and chatter filled the room, a stark contrast to the heaviness that had hung over the house the night before.

As they set the table with plates of pancakes and fresh fruit, Jared glanced at Gen with a playful smirk. "Think Jensen will be able to handle waking up to the smell of your cooking?", he teased, earning a chuckle from his wife.

Gen rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of amusement in her expression. "He better be ready for the Padalecki family breakfast experience", she replied with a grin, her culinary skills on full display.

Just then, Tom bounded into the kitchen, his energy infectious as he eagerly awaited his next task. "Can I go wake up Uncle Jensen now, Dad?", he asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Jared nodded with a smile, ruffling Tom's hair affectionately. "Go for it, buddy. Just try not to scare him too much", he replied, unable to contain his own amusement at the thought of Jensen's reaction to being roused from his slumber.

With a mischievous grin, Tom dashed off to carry out his mission, leaving Jared and Gen to share a knowing look.

As Tom made his way towards the guestroom, his excitement bubbling over, he couldn't help but feel a mischievous urge creeping in. Quietly, he slipped inside, tiptoeing towards Jensen's bed with a grin plastered on his face.

With a sly glance towards Jensen, still lost in slumber, Tom couldn't resist the temptation. He settled himself down beside Jensen, his heart racing with anticipation. And then, with a mischievous gleam in his eye, he let out a loud fart, breaking the silence of the room with a resounding blast.

Jensen jolted awake with a start, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at Tom in disbelief. "What the…", he sputtered, his voice trailing off as he tried to process what had just happened.

Tom couldn't contain his laughter, doubling over with mirth as he reveled in the chaos he had created. "Gotcha, Uncle Jensen!", he exclaimed between giggles, unable to contain his excitement at the successful prank.

Jensen instantly grimaced, his hand flying to cover his nose as the pungent odor assaulted his senses. "Oh, man, Tom! What did you eat?", he exclaimed, his voice muffled by his hand as he tried to escape the noxious fumes.

Tom doubled over with laughter, barely able to catch his breath between fits of giggles. "Sorry, Uncle Jensen!", he managed to squeak out between laughs.

Jensen waved his hand in front of his face, desperately trying to dispel the stench that hung in the air. "You're absolutely your dad's kid", he grumbled, his tone laced with both amusement and exasperation. "Damn, that fucking stinks!".

Again Jensen waved his hand in front of his face, still trying to rid the room of the lingering smell. "Alright, alright, Tom", he said with a chuckle, trying to mask his amusement. "Why don't you go air out that stinking butt of yours while I get dressed?".

Tom grinned mischievously, his laughter echoing through the room as he bounded out of the guestroom, leaving Jensen to shake his head in amusement.

Dressed and somehow awake, Jensen made his way towards the kitchen, the promise of breakfast and laughter drawing him forward.

Jensen took a seat at the table, a grin playing at the corners of his lips as he recounted Tom's prank to Jared. "You won't believe what your son just did", he chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

Jared raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Oh? What did he do this time?", he asked with a smirk, already bracing himself for another one of Tom's antics.

"He let out the loudest fart I've ever heard right next to my face", Jensen replied, his laughter infectious as he recounted the incident. "I swear, that kid is just like his old man".

Jared couldn't help but laugh at the image of his son terrorizing Jensen with his infamous flatulence. "Well, I guess he takes after me in more ways than one", he quipped, a proud smile spreading across his face.

Shep and Odette's laughter filled the room, their amusement at Tom's antics contagious as they teased their brother relentlessly. Gen couldn't help but shake her head affectionately at their sibling banter.

Turning to Jared, Gen's smile widened as she made a suggestion. "Hey, do you think you and Jensen could handle getting the drinks for tonight's party?", she asked, her tone hopeful as she looked between her husband and his friend.

Jared grinned at the idea, nodding eagerly. "Of course", he replied, excitement lighting up his eyes. "Consider it our mission. We'll make sure we have plenty of drinks to keep the party going all night long".

Jensen nodded in agreement. "You can count on us", he chimed in.

As they made plans for the evening's festivities, the anticipation of the birthday party ahead filled the room with a sense of excitement.

Two hours later, Jensen found himself sitting in the passenger seat of Jared's car, the hum of the engine and the rhythm of the road soothing his frayed nerves. They were on their way to the next liquor store, their mission to stock up for Jared's birthday party well underway.

Jared glanced over at Jensen with a grin, the excitement of the evening ahead evident in his eyes. "Ready to make a dent in the liquor aisle?", he joked, his tone light as he navigated through the traffic.

Jensen chuckled, a sense of camaraderie washing over him as he settled back into his seat. "You bet", he replied. "Just promise me we won't end up with more beer than we can carry".

Jared laughed, shaking his head at his friend's jest. "No promises", he teased, though there was a hint of mischief in his tone.

As Jared disappeared in search of the restroom, Jensen remained leaning against the overflowing shopping cart, his expression a mix of boredom and introspection. With each passing moment, he found himself sinking deeper into his own thoughts. Again the weight of his troubles pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket.

He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him from within, the nagging sense that he was trapped in a life that no longer brought him joy. Despite the excitement of Jared's birthday party looming on the horizon, Jensen couldn't escape the shadows of his own turmoil that threatened to engulf him at every turn.

Lost in his thoughts, Jensen barely noticed the bustle of shoppers around him as they navigated the crowded aisles of the liquor store. His mind was a whirlwind of memories and regrets, a tangled web of emotions that left him feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

Lost in his thoughts, Jensen barely registered the collision until he felt the impact against his back. Startled, he stumbled forward, nearly losing his balance as he turned to see what had caused the disturbance.

"Hey, fucking watch where you're going!", he grumbled irritably, his frustration evident in his tone as he glanced over his shoulder.

But as he turned around, ready to unleash a torrent of curses, Jensen's words died on his lips as he met your gaze.

"Sorry", you apologized quickly, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you struggled to regain your composure and the bottles of whiskey in your arms. "I didn't see you there".

Jensen's irritation faded, his annoyance evaporating as he took in your apologetic expression. "It's okay", he replied more softly. "No harm done".

———————————

A/N: I wanted to give you a little preview. I don't know exactly when it will continue. If you want to be tagged, please let me know <3 It's going to be a damn long story, that's for sure, lol.

Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 2

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen x y/n #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jared padalecki #jared paladecki #jared and jensen #spn #supernatural #gen padalecki #genevieve padalecki

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queen-of-deans-booty · 1 year ago

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Practice Makes Perfect

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Actress!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: none, nervous!jensen that's super cute

Request by anon: Hey, can i request a series or one shot with Jensen x actress/singer reader, where the reader is very famous actress and singer that work in Marvel as Black Widow, Game of Thrones, TVDU, etc and Jensen loved her and always are talking about her in set without knowing that she is Gen Padalecki best fiends and Jared Padalecki friends and Jared tell her all Jensen said about her so she was casted as a new character who is Dean love interest without him knowing and in the end they end together and have kids?

Summary: You're a famous actress that's been in lots of movies and TV shows. Jensen has a huge crush on you and doesn't know that the newest person to be hired onto Supernatural is none other than you.

Square Filled: what if (2022) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: just pretend that each of the shows/movies she's been in took place one after the other instead of going on at the exact same time.

Jared and Jensen have a few minutes alone before their panel. Jared is snacking on whatever they provided them with while Jensen is sitting on the couch browsing on his phone. Jared has his wife on FaceTime as he is stuffing his face, and she laughs at the food dripping from his mouth.

“Baby, why can’t you eat normally?”

“What? I’m hungry,” he says, more food spewing from his mouth.

“Our kids eat better than you,” she chuckles.

“Jen, tell her I eat normally.” Jared turns to his friend but Jensen isn’t listening to a word he’s saying. He has one of his Airpods in watching a video. “Are you guys coming to the panel?”

“Yeah, we’re just exploring right now.”

“Hi, Daddy!” Odette smiles and jumps into the frame.

“Hey, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Say bye!”

All three of his kids say bye just before Gen hangs up on him. Jared finishes eating his snack before walking over to his friend. He takes a seat next to him to see what video he’s watching and smirks when he sees you on the screen.

“So, what do you want to do when the panel is over? What section of the convention do you want to visit?” Jared asks knowing Jensen isn’t listening.

He’s too invested in the video of you doing press for your new Marvel movie. You play the elusive Black Widow in all of the Marvel films, and you just got done filming your own solo movie. You’ve done some press for the movie even before it comes out to prepare people for what to expect and things of that nature.

“You’re obsessed with her,” Jared chuckles.

“Shut up, I’m not,” Jensen barks. “I’m just an admirer of her movies.”

“You have posters of her locked away in your collection.”

Jensen slaps his friend on the chest and continues watching the video. It’s true, Jensen has a major crush on you not only for Black Widow but for every role you’ve ever done. You’ve played Sansa Stark in Game of Thrones, Katherine and Elena in The Vampire Diaries, and so much more. You’re such a talented person that acting is like second nature to you. You can do almost any role you’ve ever landed, and you’ve won a lot of awards for it which you’re proud of.

“Damn, look at her. She’s gorgeous,” Jensen says with metaphorical hearts in his eyes. Jared laughs and Jensen shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I have a major crush on this woman. What are you gonna do about it?”

“We’re about to do a panel. Come on.”

Jensen and Jared get ready to go out on stage. All their fans cheer for them when they make an appearance. Jared scans the audience to see his wife there with her phone pointed at him. He nods once and turns to Jensen knowing his wife is getting this on video.

“Alright, any questions?” Jared asks. A lot of hands go up in the air, and he points to the person whom Gen gestures. “What’s your name?”

“Elisa. I’m such a huge fan of both of you. My question is for Jensen. I watched a video you did talking about the actress Y/N. She just finished her movie Black Widow. Is it true you have a crush on her?”

Everyone cheers for this question but quiets down to give Jensen an opportunity to answer. His entire face reddens at the question and becomes extremely conscious of what he’s wearing, what he’s saying, and how he’s behaving as if you’re in the room.

“Wow, there’s a lot to unpack here. Look, she’s gorgeous, I’m not gonna lie. If she were standing in front of me now, I don’t think I’d form complete sentences. So, yes, I have a crush on her.”

Everyone laughs at how shy he’s becoming, and Gen looks at the person she’s on FaceTime with.

“He’s so cute,” you chuckle through the screen. “Very charming.”

You’re a really good friend of the Padalecki family. You met Gen through a non-profit organization she was funding a while back and became fast friends with her. She and Jared welcomed you into their family immediately but it was never known to Jensen that you knew them.

“Just wait until you meet him in person.”

“Isn’t it true that there is still an opening for that female character on their show?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m in between projects right now. I’d be happy to audition if you want to bring that to Jared.”

“I’ll have him hook you up,” Gen smirks.

“Is that Y/N?” Shep asks and forces his face into the frame.

“Hey, Shep,” you grin.

Supernatural is about to start filming its eleventh season which means the director is desperate to fill the role of Dean’s love interest. Jared brought you up as an option, the director had you audition, and you were offered the part before leaving the building to go home. Jensen still doesn’t know that you were the one who was offered the role, just that the position had been filled.

“Isn’t it a bit suspicious that we haven’t met this new person?” Jensen asks.

“Talk to the director, dude.” Jared gets a call from the director and answers it with a smile. “Hey. Are you here? … Perfect. I’ll be right there.”

“Whose that?”

“Gen is here. I gotta go. I’ll be right back.”

Jared leaves before Jensen can ask any other questions. He meets up with you and the director who is waiting for him on the other side of the set.

“Jared!” you grin and give him a friendly hug. “Working together is going to be so fun.”

You’re not sure how long you’ll be on the show, but you hope it’s going to last years.

“Is he ready?”

“He’s practicing his lines right now.”

Jared escorts you to the main set where Jensen is. He’s already in his Dean clothes since they are scheduled to film right now. His back is turned to you when you enter the room so you think this is the perfect opportunity to scare him. He is holding a prop gun and muttering his lines when you jump in front of him. He yelps and drops the gun as you let out an infectious laugh.

“What?” he stutters when he sees you.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you grin and hold out your hand for him. Jensen is a stuttering mess but shakes your hand nonetheless. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“She’s going to play your new love interest,” Jared says and slaps him on the back lightly.

“It’s going to be so much fun working with you.”

“Yeah, same here,” Jensen manages to get out. “Excuse me for a second.” He brings Jared off to the side to talk to him privately. “What the hell? Did you know about this?”

“Yeah, she’s a family friend.”

“How did I not know this?”

“I’m good at keeping secrets when I want to,” he chuckles.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be in the same room as her.”

“You’re welcome,” Jared smirks and pats his back.

Jared walks away just as you approach Jensen.

“I hope you’re okay with me being here.”

“More than okay,” he smiles shyly. I love your movies. You’re an amazing actress.”

“Thank you,” you smile. “I love this show. Dean just so happens to be my favorite character.”

That makes Jensen blush. Over the next couple of months, you’ve been filming with the boys as much as you can. It’s been nothing but fun especially when you participate in their pranks on Misha. You and Jensen are growing closer, more than you ever thought you would. He’s super nice, sweet, charming, and very sexy. He’s everything a girl would want in a man. This was inevitable, but you got to the part in your onscreen relationship where your characters share a kiss. He’s super nervous as are you since you both have feelings for one another.

“Dean, I don’t know why you’re bugging out. The hunt went exactly as planned,” your character says as you unpack your duffel bag.

“You got hurt. How is that exactly as planned?”

“We got the bad guy. Isn’t that what matters?”

“Not at the cost of your life! How could you think so little of it?”

“Dean, it’s just a scratch. I’ve gotten worse wounds than this.”

“God, you’re not getting it,” he scoffs.

“What? Please explain to me how you’re feeling.”

“It’s your life! No monster is worth that. You’re too important to me.” Jensen walks over to you and cups your jaw. The moment is so intense, so intimate. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t lose me. I’m right here,” you whisper.

You two stare into your eyes right before he smashes his lips on yours. He isn’t kissing you like how Dean would, he’s kissing you like how he would. The kiss is supposed to be short and sweet but Jensen keeps it going as long as he can. Your lips mold with his perfectly as if you were meant to be doing this your whole life.

The director yells CUT and Jensen pulls away from you slightly. He cheers at getting it on one take, and you step back from him with a nervous chuckle.

“Good job you two! Take ten everyone!”

“Listen, if you ever want to practice lines or… other things, you’re more than welcome to come to my trailer. You know, practice makes perfect.”

“I’ll make sure to take you up on that offer,” he smirks.

And practice did make perfect. After hearing the story of how you met Jenson yet again, both your daughters clap happily.

“Tell the story again!” your six-year-old giggles.

“Again!” your four-year-old laughs after her sister.

“Not tonight, girls,” you grin and kiss both their heads.

“Go to sleep. We’ll see you in the morning,” Jensen says.

You and Jensen leave their room and close the door gently. Jensen brings you into his arms and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Landing that role has been the best thing to ever happen to me,” you whisper to him.

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” Jensen smiles and kisses you.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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ducktoo · 1 month ago

Text

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

33. Renov-log

Note: Jeez, we’re close to the end now…

Masterlist here

After months of touring, recording, and relentless promotion, the girls of aespa finally had some downtime. Considering that Whiplash would be their last release of this year and their world tour success, they managed to snag a good break.

To be exact, 2 weeks.

Naturally, they decided it was time for a major change:

Renovating their dorm.

Of course, Y/n, who had barely recovered from the last leg of their tour, suddenly found himself roped into this mess once again. Because despite having muscles on their own, they just want to hang out with him more.

It all started innocently enough. The girls were gathered in the living room, flipping through catalogs, each with vastly different ideas on what their “new space” should look like. Y/n sat at the head of the table, already feeling a headache forming.

“Are we seriously doing this?” Y/n asked, glancing from one girl to the next, noting their determined expressions.

“Yup,” Karina said, not even looking up as she circled a bright red couch in a magazine. “We’re over this old setup. It’s time for something new.”

Winter chimed in with a deadpan tone, her face buried behind her phone. “I’ve been staring at that peeling wallpaper for two years. It’s haunting my dreams at this point.”

“Ok, you should’ve told me that earlier, Jeong.” Y/n sighed.

Ningning grinned, bouncing in her seat. “We need more colour. And a karaoke machine!”

Y/n blinked at that last part. “A karaoke machine? Why?”

“Yep,” Giselle said, casually pointing at the list in front of him. “Right next to the beanbags and mini-fridge. Oh, and let’s not forget, we want a cozy reading nook by the window.”

Y/n rubbed his temples. “This is getting out of hand…I don’t study architecture here.”

Winter strolled in, looking like she’d just had the most brilliant idea. “We should film a vlog about the whole renovation process. You know, a ‘Day in the Life’ kind of thing. It’ll be hilarious watching Y/n try to maintain some level of sanity.”

Y/n’s head snapped up. “Wait, what now?”

Karina and Ningning shared a glance, their mischievous grins widening.

“We’re doing it,” Winter declared. “Vlog day tomorrow.”

The next day, the real madness began. Furniture deliveries were scheduled, paint samples were splattered across walls, and half the dorm was covered in dust as the renovation began. But to make things worse, Giselle, true to her word, pulled out her camera, ready to document the entire thing for their channel.

“Alright guys, welcome to today's 'Reno-vlog'!’” Giselle announced with far too much enthusiasm. “We’re going to make this place look brand new, with the help of our lovely manager, Y/n!”

Y/n appeared in the background, balancing a stack of paint cans. “I didn’t sign up for this,” he grumbled, before nearly tripping over an extension cord.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” Karina laughed, zooming the camera in on his frazzled expression.

“I’m fine,” Y/n muttered, but the slight panic in his eyes said otherwise. “Just… someone please move the cables.”

As the girls split up into teams, the dorm turned into a scene straight out of a comedy show. Giselle and Ningning took charge of painting the living room, while Karina and Winter were busy assembling furniture. Y/n? Well, he was stuck in the middle of it all, trying his best to keep everything under control.

“Giselle! That’s not the right shade of blue!” Y/n yelled from across the room as he glanced at the paint sample. “You picked ‘Ocean Breeze,’ but that looks like ‘Misty Sky!’”

Giselle shrugged, completely unfazed. “Eh, blue is blue. It’ll look fine once it dries.”

“Right… because drying magically changes the colour.” Y/n sighed, shaking his head.

Meanwhile, Karina and Winter struggled with an IKEA bookshelf in the corner.

“I’m telling you, this part goes here,” Winter said, holding a screw in one hand and a wooden panel in the other.

Karina looked equally as confused. “Are you sure? It looks upside down.”

“It’s not upside down,” Winter huffed, trying to force the pieces together. “I’ve done this before.”

Y/n watched from the doorway, shaking his head. “I give it five minutes before that thing collapses.”

Sure enough, the bookshelf stood triumphantly for about three minutes before one of the sides gave out, sending the entire structure crashing to the floor. Karina and Winter just stared at it, shocked into silence.

“Told you so.” Y/n deadpanned.

Ningning, however, was quick to pounce. “I got that on camera!” she cackled, pointing her phone at the wreckage.

“Thanks for the moral support, idiot,” Winter grumbled, crossing her arms.

Y/n raised his hands defensively. “Ya, you’re the ones who refused to look at the manual.”

Karina smirked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s right, Minjeong. We should’ve listened to the professional.”

Winter rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Fine, fine. Y/n wins this round.”

“Of course, one of my various W” The victorious manager patted his shoulder.

The painting was no better. The girls had chosen a variety of bright colors, each with a specific vision in mind. But when Ningning knocked over an entire can of ocean-blue paint onto the living room floor, Y/n nearly lost it.

“Yizhuo!” Y/n yelled, staring at the growing puddle of paint. “That was oil-based!”

Ningning winced, backing away. “Oops?”

Y/n sighed, already calculating how many hours it would take to clean that up. “I’m going to need a mop... and therapy after this.”

Giselle, ever the opportunist, swung the camera towards him. “And here we have Y/n, reaching the breaking point of this renovation project.”

The girls snickered, their laughter only growing louder as Y/n tried—and failed—to clean the paint with a completely inadequate rag.

“You know,” Winter teased as she filmed the scene with her phone, “this would make for some quality blackmail footage.”

"Another one?!" Y/n looked up from the floor, narrowing his eyes. “If that video ever sees the light of day, I’m throwing all of your new furniture out the window.”

Winter just shrugged, a sly grin on her face. “Tsk, whatever. But I’m still keeping the footage.”

Despite the setbacks, the renovation eventually started to come together. The walls were painted (after several attempts), the furniture was somewhat assembled, and the dorm slowly began to resemble a place they could all live in. It wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs.

Karina gestured to the new couches proudly. “See, Y/n? I told you it would look good.”

Y/n nodded, admiring the final product. “It actually does. You guys did well.”

Ningning, of course, couldn’t let him off the hook that easily. “Don’t forget, we captured your meltdown on camera for the vlog.”

“Yeah, Y/n, you were like this close to pulling your hair out,” Giselle added, laughing.

Y/n rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. “Great. I’m sure that’ll be the highlight AND the thumbnail of the video.”

Later that evening, after the chaos had died down and the renovation halted for the day, Y/n found himself in the kitchen, trying to salvage a snack from the fridge. As he fumbled around, Winter quietly walked in, leaning against the counter with a playful smile.

"Whatcha doing?" she asked, her voice soft but teasing.

"Just... trying to find something edible," Y/n replied, pulling out a carton of milk and sniffing it cautiously. "I'm about to get triggered out there."

Winter chuckled, watching him with an amused expression. "You know, you didn’t do too bad today. Kept your cool, mostly."

Y/n grinned, shaking his head. "Mostly, huh?"

There was a beat of silence between them, and Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. Ever since the "smooch prank," and his permission approved by the other girls, his feelings toward Winter had been... complicated.

He wasn’t sure where they stood or if it even meant anything to her. But he found himself increasingly flustered whenever she was around, her presence lingering in his thoughts.

Winter seemed to pick up on his awkwardness, her eyes narrowing as she leaned in slightly. “What’s with that look? You’re not still mad about the prank, are you?”

Y/n stammered, suddenly unable to find his words. “Uh, no. Not mad. Just... thinking.”

"Thinking about what?" Winter asked, tilting her head with curiosity.

Y/n nearly choked on his words. “Uh... nothing important.”

Winter smirked knowingly. “Sure, nothing important. You’re such a bad liar, Y/n. Just say that you like my kiss.”

…"I-I"

Before Y/n could respond, Karina popped into the kitchen, breaking the tension. “What’s going on in here? Are you two conspiring without us?”

“You want me to?,” Y/n said quickly, though his voice cracked slightly, betraying his nerves.

Karina raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Uh-huh. Well, just make sure we don’t find out you’re plotting a new prank on us, Minjeong.”

Winter flashed an innocent smile. “Who, me? Never.”

Y/n cleared his throat, desperately trying to change the subject. “So, uh, how’s the vlog going?”

Ningning entered the kitchen just in time to answer that. “It’s gold. The fans are going to love it. Especially the part where you nearly passed out from stress.”

As the night wore on, and the chaos of the day finally began to settle, Y/n found himself back in the living room, alone for a moment of peace. He sat on one of the new couches, admiring the final result of their hard work.

The dorm wasn’t perfect—far from it—but it had character. And despite the hiccups, it had been fun, even if he wouldn’t admit it to the girls.

Winter suddenly appeared in the doorway, her hair slightly tousled from the day’s work. “Mind if I sit?”

“Of course,” Y/n said, scooting over to make room for her on the couch.

She plopped down beside him, pulling her legs up underneath her. “You look deep in thought.”

Y/n chuckled. “Just thinking about how close I was to explode in front of you all.”

“Aish, your exaggerated too much,” Winter groaned, but with a soft smile on her lips. “But it was fun. I mean, look at what we did.”

Y/n glanced around the room, nodding. “It does look great…surprisingly.”

There was a brief moment of silence before Winter spoke again, her voice quieter this time. “You know, you’ve been pretty amazing through all this, idiot. I don’t think we say it enough.”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. “Mhm…I’m just doing my job.”

“Still,” Winter said, her eyes meeting his. “We’re lucky to have you.”

Y/n felt his heart skip a beat, unsure of how to respond. Before he could muster a response, Winter flashed him a soft, genuine smile that made his heart skip another beat. Her sincerity was something he wasn’t used to handling, especially after all the teasing and chaos the group usually stirred up.

“..Since when you look so womanly…,” he finally said, scratching the back of his neck nervously before ruffling her hair.

"Yaaaa" Winter groaned.

“I’m lucky to have you guys too. Especially you, Jeong."

Winter’s smile grew, but the moment quickly turned awkward when Ningning’s voice echoed from down the hallway. “Hey, Y/n-oppa! Jeong-unnie! You better not be do some funny behaviour in there!”

Y/n groaned inwardly, thankful for the interruption but also wishing for just a little more time to figure out how he was feeling. Winter, on the other hand, chuckled softly, standing up from the couch.

“I guess that’s my cue,” she said with a light laugh, giving Y/n one last glance before heading toward the hallway.

“Goodnight, idiot.”

“Goodnight, crybaby” Y/n replied, his mind still whirling with the events of the day.

The next morning, the group wasted no time getting back into their usual antics. After the emotional (and slightly awkward) moment between Y/n and Winter, everything seemed to return to normal — well, as normal as life with aespa could be.

Ningning had already started editing the footage from the day before, giggling every time she came across a particularly chaotic scene.

“Y/n, you look like you’re about to combust,” she teased, playing a clip where Y/n was holding a mop, surrounded by spilled paint and half-assembled furniture.

“I WAS about to combust,” Y/n grumbled, sipping his coffee while trying to avoid looking at the screen. “That paint was everywhere.”

Giselle leaned over Ningning’s shoulder, pointing at the screen. “Oh man, this part’s gold. The bookshelf disaster. I still can’t believe Winter and Karina thought they could build that thing without instructions.”

Karina, who had just walked into the room, waved them off. “It was a learning experience.”

Winter, following behind Karina, raised an eyebrow. “A learning experience in failure, maybe.”

The banter continued as they all sat down for breakfast, but Y/n couldn’t help but steal glances at Winter. There was something about the way she carried herself, so casual yet so sincere, that kept him thinking about the night before. And the prank. And the way she had told him they were lucky to have him.

It wasn’t the first time Winter had caught him off guard with her softer side, but it was the first time he’d felt… different about it.

After breakfast, they got back to work on the final touches of the dorm renovation. Y/n found himself in the corner of the living room, trying to assemble a coffee table that had more screws than should be legally allowed.

Winter joined him, kneeling beside him as she attempted to help with the assembly. “Need some backup?”

Y/n chuckled. “As long as you’re reading the instruction, sure.”

Winter gave him a playful nudge, grinning. “Ya, I’m a quick learner, trust me.”

They worked in relative silence, but every now and then, their hands brushed as they both reached for the same tool. Y/n could feel the tension building, the air between them thick with the unsaid.

“So,” Winter said suddenly, breaking the silence, “you’ve been a little quiet lately. What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

Y/n hesitated. He wasn’t ready to lay everything on the table, not yet. “Just...wondering what’s after Whiplash and stuff.”

Winter didn’t seem satisfied with his answer but didn’t push further. “Well, we will be alright, but everything is fun now that you’re with us.”

“You said it all the time now.”

“Aish, can’t a lady show her appreciation?” Winter glared, but a giggle followed after.

Y/n’s stomach flipped again. There it was, that sincerity that always caught him off guard. “Thanks, Jeong.”

With the renovations nearly complete, the group decided it was time to finish up their “day in the life” vlog. Ningning, as always, took charge of the camera, while the rest of the girls threw themselves into creating as much chaos as possible.

Karina and Giselle staged a fake argument over who got the better new bedroom setup, complete with exaggerated yelling and finger-pointing. Ningning, cackling behind the camera, zoomed in on Y/n’s exasperated face as he tried to mediate the “fight.”

“I’m not a therapist,” Y/n groaned, rubbing his temples. “Can’t we just focus on finishing this?”

Karina crossed her arms, playing up the drama. “No, Y/n! Giselle needs to know I deserve the bigger closet!”

Giselle gasped in mock offense. “Oh, please! I have way more shoes than you do!”

Y/n sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why do I feel like this is going to be the entire vlog?”

Winter, who had been standing off to the side, caught his eye and gave him a small, knowing smile. Despite the chaos, she seemed to find the situation just as amusing as he did.

Later that day, after the cameras were off and the renovation was finally—mostly—done, Y/n found himself back in the kitchen, once again trying to find something to eat. Winter quietly entered the room, as she often did, leaning against the counter.

“You're stealing my snack zone at this point” she teased lightly.

Y/n chuckled, pulling out a box of cereal. “Damn right. This is my domain.”

Winter smiled softly, watching him for a moment before speaking. “You’ve been handling everything really well, you know. The renovations, the vlog, the constant chaos.”

Y/n shrugged, trying to play it off. “I’m surprised my hair is still here.”

Winter’s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer before she pushed off the counter and stood a little closer to him. “Ya, You’re doing great, Y/n. You’re... important to us.”

Y/n froze, his heart doing somersaults in his chest. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he just nodded, suddenly very interested in pouring cereal into his bowl.

Winter didn’t push further, but as she walked past him to leave the kitchen, her hand brushed his arm, sending a spark of warmth through him. He couldn’t help but watch her retreating figure, his mind racing with thoughts he wasn’t quite ready to confront.

That evening, the girls gathered in the living room, excitedly presenting Y/n with a small box wrapped in colorful paper. They had been out earlier that day, under the guise of running errands, but it seemed they had been plotting something else entirely.

“…What’s this?” Y/n asked, holding the box carefully as the girls watched him with expectant smiles.

“A gift,” Karina said, grinning. “For all the hard work you’ve done. Also it’s a bit over 1 year anniversary since you became our manager.”

“Oh.” Y/n widened his eyes. With all the tour planning and nonsense, it slipped his mind that it would’ve been a bit over a year since he first started as Aespa’s manager. Or maybe it was because it wasn’t work but rather just reuniting with his childhood friend and have a fun and inseparable (yet annoying) group.

“I didn’t even realise it has been a year already.” Y/n was awestruck.

“I mean…you did went through a lot. It makes sense you didn’t notice, oppa” Ningning chimed in.

"…I'm not getting fired, am I?"

"Of course not, open it!" Giselle groaned.

Y/n glanced around at them, suspicious but touched. He carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a sleek new watch. It was simple, elegant, and exactly his style.

“Oh sht damn,” Y/n breathed, genuinely surprised. “This is... amazing. Thank you, guys.”

Ningning grinned. “We figured you needed something fancy after all the chaos we put you through this year.”

Winter, who had been standing quietly to the side, stepped forward, her eyes locking onto Y/n’s. “And just so you know, this wasn’t a prank,” she said softly, her voice laced with sincerity. “You really deserve it.”

Y/n’s heart fluttered at her words, and for a moment, he forgot all about the chaos of the day. He was just... happy.

"Just gonna say it…" Giselle smirked. "Minjeong suggested it."

"Aeri-unnie!!!!"

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my-my-my · 1 year ago

Note

Could you talk about Aizen"s relationship with Shinji? What he thinks about him? etc

Sure! This ask gave me an itch to reread TBTP because (much to my dismay), I wish we saw Aizen and Shinji interact during TYBW. I hope we see some added content in the anime, but I'm not holding my breath lol.

This is going to be more of a ramble/word dump so I apologize if it's not cohesive!

TW: none!

I'm of the opinion that if there was anyone Aizen wanted to understand him (outside of Urahara), it would have been Shinji. I specifically think about this panel and how interesting it is that Kubo gave Aizen a sad look in his eyes. We don't really see sadness in Aizen, there's only one other scene where I vaguely recall him looking more sad/disappointed (vs him being bored/disappointed).

(This is from Ch -316/TBTP 10)

We know from Shinji's side, he was always wary and somewhat cautious around Aizen. He never trusted him fully and kept him at arms length for everything. On one hand, this leads him to his downfall, but I also read it as Shinji having an immediate gut reaction to not trust Aizen and Shinji could never shake that off. He can be professional with Aizen, but he mentally cannot handle anything beyond that. Something about Aizen felt so fundamentally off to Shinji that he could not get close to him.

So I wonder if this bothered Aizen as well... Aizen is someone who meticulously crafted his persona. He was known to be kind, hardworking and diligent, but something about this persona immediately gave a warning to Shinji.

But I'm not gonna defend Aizen and say he crafted the "perfect" persona - because even he (in a roundabout way) admits he didn't. Even subconscious traits of the "real" Aizen comes through with every interaction Aizen and Shinji would have had with each other, but because of the wall Shinji mentally puts between the two of them, he cannot discern these traits. So while this adds to Aizen's "loneliness complex", it gives him leeway to add in stand-ins with Kyoka Suigetsu. And that's what disappoints Aizen at his core - even his own Captain can't recognize the little things about him.

And this leads me to think that Aizen and Shinji were Lieutenant and Captain for a few centuries at least. We know that at Nanao's graduation from the academy, Aizen was already the Lieutenant of Squad 5:

(Ch. 652/The Theatre Suicide Scene 6)

So yes, Shinji may have had time to "understand" Aizen - but he doesn't. Even at the start of TBTP, Aizen asks Shinji what he's listening to and while Aizen doesn't understand jazz, instead of trying to get to "know" Aizen (even frivously), by asking him "what music do you even listen to then?" he tells him "why did you ask me that then?"

Another thing I noticed is that Aizen (during TBTP) asks a surprising amount of questions (it can be argued though that these are the hypnotized stand-ins asking). He's trying to gain as much knowledge as he can from other people, and Shinji isn't there to answer, or even acknowledge that he's asking questions. It's also "normal" for Aizen to be seen at the library, as Shunsui and the C46 didn't bat an eye at Aizen's alibi. While fundamentally Captain/Lieutenant relationships can really be any sort of dynamic (mentor/mentee, boss and personal assistant), I got the sense that Aizen didn't really "learn" much from Shinji about the ways of Soul Society. Shinji had a tight lip and only shared what needed to be shared likely for work-reasons.

And then there's their shikais! I found it fascinating how both of them have reality-altering shikais. Shinji's shikai being a complete distortion of senses, while Aizen's is subtle manipulation of senses. I don't really have any more to say for that, but I've interpreted this as their way of being honest with people. Shinji's manipulation of senses is very cognizant and deliberate - Shinji is blunt. Aizen's is subtle but traumatizing - you can't trust anything coming from Aizen.

I think though, Shinji's experience with Aizen shaped how he treats his Squad going forward. I have a soft spot for headcanons for how Squad 5 operates post-Aizen's incarceration. Shinji treats Momo much differently than he did with Aizen because he knows what it's like being used and completely victimized by Aizen. There's no point in him being on his guard against someone who was hurt just as badly as he was by Aizen's hand. There is a sense of camaraderie they share in that sense. No one (arguably) "knew" Aizen as much as they did because they worked with him in such close capacity. I'd love to know what lies and truths Aizen shared with them lol.

Sorry again for this ramble, but thank you for this ask! Wish we see/have more Squad 5 content, but alas!

#bleach #aizen sousuke #shinji hirako #aizen sosuke #sosuke aizen #hirako shinji #bleach headcanons #answered #shinji #aizen #a writes

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ichigopanhpff · 9 months ago

Text

Translation: Toman Tengoku Showdown from the “Tokyo Revengers Exhibition The Final World Line SILVER” Book

In Roppongi’s TR exhibition, they had a section where they had an installation of the final timeline story drawn by Wakui-sensei. This installation had a mix of the printed manga panels and voiceover drama to cover more backstory and content because the man can only draw and cover so much.

Luckily, they included the transcript to the voice overs and are divided up into chapters with titles, which I'll mark with --.

I was lucky enough to my my hands on the book directly from their limited time merch site (https://mikey-mart.online/); unfortunately, they ended all online orders by 2/4.

Out of respect for the exhibition and the hard work put into this entire thing by Wakui-sensei and the staff, I will not be posting any images of the panels from the booklet and will post whatever the official exhibition's Twitter account have posted. I’ll do my best to put scene descriptions where I see fit. I have seen there are some JP vloggers who've done content on the exhibition itself, but don't know how much they were able to film.

They also have an interview with the artist who made the statue installation of the Tenjiku arc scene where Takemichi raised his fist up when Mikey appeared, an interview with the Japanese VAs and Wakui-sensei himself. If there’s enough interest in any of those sections, I’ll do my best to translate them.

Note: Translation isn’t 100% and I may take some liberties in translating certain things for a more colloquial approach. Anything in brackets are my personal notes.

Intro: This is the story about our final time leap and battle.

Kisaki: The Toman Tengoku Battle will take place one week from today. It will take place at the Roppongi 3rd multi-story Parking Lot.

Panel Card: Tokyo Roppongi Manji Tengoku Summit Meeting

[This is the panel they teased in the YT video where Toman, Tenjiku and Black Dragons were sitting in a private room in a Chinese restaurant].

Kisaki: There are three rules: No weapons! No retaliations! The gang that wins will absorb the other gangs! No objections?

Takemichi: None.

Taiju: There’s nothing left to say at this point!

Izana: This’ll be a festival to decide whose fist will rule over the biggest gang in all of Japan; a huge feud between the three of us.

Kisaki: This concludes the meeting!!

(Each respective gang make their exits)

Takemichi: The next time we’ll see each other will be at the battlefield.

Mikey: Get ready to be beaten to a pulp.

Taiju: Ha! Back at you!

Izana: Hmph.

Kakucho: Are you okay with this, Izana?

Izana: With what?

Kakucho: Isn’t Mikey Shinichiro-san’s younger brother? Are you gonna go all out?

Izana: … Haha. Idiot Kakucho. This will be the second time Mikey and I go at it.

Flashback quote: “Even if we’re not related by blood, Shin-nii is my brother!!!”

--Get blood out of a stone--

Young Hanagaki Takemichi CV: Watanabe Akeno Young Sano Manjiro CV: Fairouzi Ai Young Kurokawa Izana CV: Tanezaki Atsumi

Takemichi: This is your hardest mission, Mikey-kun.

Mikey: Got it.

(Takemichi and Mikey are standing in front of the orphanage talking to each other secretly)

Takemichi: I don’t know what kind of scary thing will happen if we tell Izana-kun suddenly. That’s why I thought of this strategy.

(Takemichi starts shaking as he opens his hand with a piece of chocolate)

Mikey: Chocolate?

Takemichi: Yes, chocolate. [Oh you sweet summer child…]

(He begins to explain his strategy with confidence.)

Takemichi: This is how you’ll lure Izana-kun in and with time, you two will slowly start getting along and gradually tell him the truth.

(Takemichi clenches his fist, immersed in a monologue)

Takemichi: This is a perfect plan, if I do say so myself… With this, Izana-kun will also…

Mikey: Yeah.

(Mikey runs in before Takemichi realized)

Takemichi: Mikey-kun…?

(Mikey punches Izana and sends him flying, landing firmly on the ground.) [Good job following the plan.]

Mikey: You’re Kurokawa Izana!

(Takemichi is so surprised, he’s rendered speechless)

Takemichi: Mikey-kun?!

(Izana stands up)

Izana: What the hell’s up with you?!

Mikey: I’m Sano Manjiro!

(Takemichi noticed Izana is surprised by Mikey’s words)

Izana: You said you’re Shin-nii’s… younger brother?

Takemichi: Mikey-kun…

(Mikey throws another punch)

Mikey: You and Shinichiro aren’t connected by blood!

Takemichi: Mikey-kun!

(Izana returns the punch)

Izana: What the hell are you goin’ on ‘bout, y’bastard?!

(The fist fight between the two turn into an argument)

Mikey: There’s no way you two are siblings! Why would you trust my idiot older brother like that!

Izana: What?! The hell’s wrong with you? Are you an idiot for comin’ here?!

Mikey: You accepted Shinichiro’s words without even questioning it ‘cus you’re lonely, right?! That guy did some digging, but now he can’t take back what he’s said and didn’t even mention he had a younger brother!

(The two face each other)

Mikey: I bet you must’ve noticed it too.

Izana: … Shut uuuppppp! What do you know?! My parents threw me away… I’m here while you have a warm family to raise you. You understand nothing! What if we are blood related?!

Mikey: Is it really that important to you?!

(The two start their fist fight again and eventually lay on their backs on the ground)

Mikey and Izana: Haa haa…

Izana: … Shin-nii is my brother! Even if we’re not blood related, he’s still my brother!

Mikey: … Shinichiro said the same thing.

--End--

Taiju: Mitsuya. Is Hakkai gonna go at us seriously?

Mitsuya: … Stop calling on the enemy to check up on your baby brother. You and Yuzuha are a pair of spoiled siblings. Hakkai’ll end up that way too.

Flashback quote: “No matter how violent you get on us, mom will never come back!!”

Taiju: Hmph.

--Let’s drop it--

Young Shiba Taiju CV: Tomozaku Sugita Young Shiba Yuzuha CV: Komatsu Mikako Young Shiba Hakkai CV: Hatanaka Yu Young Sano Manjiro: Fairouzi Ai

(A door forcefully bursts open into a room, where an angry Taiju enters in)

Taiju: Who forgot to turn off the bathroom light?

(Yuzuha and Taiju become frightened)

Hakkai: A… A--

Yuzuha: It’s me!

(Yuzuha protects Hakkai)

Taiju: … Why are you lying?

Yuzuha: Eh?! I’m not lying! It was me!

Taiju: The toilet seat was up. Only men do that.

(Hakkai’s hand clenches tightly at Taiju)

Taiju: Hakkai! Come here!

(Yuzuha interferes to stop Taiju)

Yuzuha: Wait! Don’t beat Hakkai anymore! Let me take his punishments instead! Please!

Hakkai: Sis…

(Hakkai hangs his head down, unable to say anything)

Taiju: You said it. From now on, you’ll take the beating for two people. Is that fine with you, Yuzuha?!

Hakkai: …

(A mysterious voice flashes in Hakkai’s memory!)

Mysterious voice (Mikey): Hakkai!

Hakkai: …!

(Hakkai stands up and faces Taiju)

Hakkai: Stop this already, Taiju!

Yuzuha: Eh…

Taiju: !

(Taiju gets violent with Hakkai)

Taiju: What’re you tryin’ to do here, Hakkai.

Hakkai: Don’t beat up sis anymore! This is ridiculous at how crazy you keep going at us.

Taiju: As I thought, you’re the one who forgot to turn the lights off. How many times have I told you to fix that?

(Hakkai gets hit and falls down. Yuzuha stands and goes beside him)

Hakkai: … I’m sorry for everything up to now, sis.

(Yuzuha is surprised)

Yuzuha: Hakkai.

Hakkai: … My friend told me.

(He recalls Mikey’s voice)

Mikey: It’s okay if you lose. Fight him.

(Taiju turns toward Hakkai)

Hakkai: Cut it out already, Taiju! No matter how violent you get with us, mom’ll never come back to us!

(Taiju is surprised)

Taiju: !… Hakkai.

(Hakkai starts crying)

Hakkai: ‘Cus I’m… I’m lonely…!

Taiju: You…

--End--

Kokonoi: Inupi. How’s Akane-san doing?

Inupi: Yeah. I’m gonna go for it.

Kokonoi: … I see.

Flashback quote: “Leave Inupi-kun to me! Hurry up and go back to save Akane-san!”

Inupi: Well, didn’t you say first loves usually don’t go as planned?

Kokonoi: Shut up.

--Every cloud has a silver lining--

Young Inui Seishu: Koichi Makoto Young Kokonoi Hajime: Igarashi Hiromi Young Inui Akane: Ueda Rena Young Hanagaki Takemichi CV: Watanabe Akeno

(The house is burning with a roaring sound as Kokonoi runs toward it)

Kokonoi: Haa haa… Akane-san!

(Kokonoi desperately addresses someone)

Kokonoi: Fire trucks… Have you seen anyone leave the house?!

Old Lady: I… I’m not sure. I haven’t been able to see anything. I’ll call for the ambulance and fire truck right now!

(Kokonoi turns and suddenly decides to run into the house)

Kokonoi: Akane-san! Akane-san! Haa haa… Akane-san! Akane-san!!

(A mysterious boy suddenly shows up inside the house)

Mysterious boy (Takemichi): Leave Inupi-kun to me! Koko-kun should hurry up and find Akane-san!

Kokonoi: O… Okay.

(Kokonoi continues his search)

Kokonoi: Akane-san! Where are you?! Akane-san! … Akane-san!

(He finally sees her and rushes over. Akane looks like she’s about to pass out)

Akane: … Hajime… kun…?

Kokonoi: I told you I’d protect you, right?

Akane: … Thank you…

(He carries Akane on his back and staggers out)

Old man: Hey! There’s another person who came out!

Old lady: Two people were able to be rescued out of that house. Thank goodness!

Kokonoi: Haa haa…

Seishu: Koko! You were able to save Akane?

Kokonoi: Yeah… But someone else saved you, Inupi.

Seishu: Huh… I was sure it was Koko who saved me. Then… Where are they…?

Kokonoi: … ?

--End--

(Scene is the night of the fight and Toman members are gathering.)

Chifuyu: Baji-san!

Baji: Yo, Chifuyu. It’s finally time, huh.

Chifuyu: Our third big battle! I got Baji-san’s back so you can go all out!

Baji: Oh! I’ll leave it up to you.

Chifuyu: Please leave it up to me.

Kazutora [He a jealous boi]: … Hey, anythin’ goes with you huh? Eh? Eh? When did you join Toman?

Chifuyu: Um… 2004.

Kazutora: Is that right now. And when did I join?

Chifuyu: Um… you’re a founding member, right?

Kazutora: Exactly! This is a photo that only a founding member has!

Chifuyu: Whoa, awesome!

Kazutora: You don’t have this right? Which means I’ve been with Baji much longer, right?

Chifuyu [Poor thing is confused at Tora’s ire]: Ye...ah…?

Kazutora: Baji definitely likes me more, right? You get what I’m gettin’ at, right?

Chifuyu: Yeah.

Takemichi: They’re trying to justify something dumb again.

Kisaki: What are they, kids? I’m surrounded by idiots in Toman.

Takemichi: Idiot. It’s fine as long as you’re the one who’s got it together.

(Takemichi puts his arm around Kisaki’s shoulder and pulls him close)

Kisaki: Stop that. You’re suffocating me.

Takemichi: Rely on me a bit more, partner!

Flashback quote: Do you like Hina? I like her too.

--It takes two to tango--

Young Kisaki Tetta CV: Ozora Naomi Young Tachibana Hinata CV: Waki Azumi Young Hanagaki Takemichi CV: Watanabe Akeno

(Some middle school kids are bullying a cat)

Cat: Nya-!

Hina: Hey, Kisaki-kun. That group is bullying the cat! Hina’s gonna complain about this!

(Hina steadily walks toward them)

Kisaki: Ta-Tachibana?!

(Hina faces the middle school boys [MSB])

Hina: Stop that! What’s so fun about doing something like that?!

MSB A: Huh?

MSB B: I hate kids with a strong sense of justice.

MSB A: Hey! The cat ran away.

MSB B: Then you take the place of the cat.

(Hina resists crying)

MSB: Aww, you’re gonna start cryin’? Did you think we’ll let you go if you started cryin’ like this?

(Kisaki watches from afar)

Kisaki: This is why I said stopping them’s useless.

(Takemichi suddenly appears and takes Kisaki’s arm)

Kisaki: Eh?!

(Takemichi brings Kisaki in front of the middle school kids, stepping onto the gravel)

Takemichi: Stop that!

(Kisaki panics)

Kisaki: Wh-what?

Takemichi: We’re the super hero partners! How dare you middle school kids pick on a young girl. That’s unforgivable!

MSB: Huh? What’s up with you guys?

(Kisaki continues to panic as Takemichi neither cries nor trembles)

Kisaki: W-Why are you including me?!

Takemichi: Shaddap! Let’s go Kisaki! You’re a man too, right?!

Kisaki: Wh-What…

(Takemichi dashes)

Takemichi: Ooooohhhh!

(Hina cries)

Takemichi: I didn’t think too much on my actions before and after.

Hina: (crying noises) Hic… I’m sorry…

(Takemichi’s wounds throb from pain)

Takemichi: Ow ow ow…

Hina: Ah, Hina will go buy some bandages!

(Hina’s running footsteps fade out, leaving Takemichi and Kisaki alone together)

Takemichi: … Do you like Hina?

Kisaki: Eh-Um, uh, I--

Takemichi: (smiling wide) I like her too.

--End--

The night before the Toman Tengoku Showdown at Musashi Shrine…

Toman’s finally gathered, with Mikey facing everyone

Mikey: Tomorrow will finally decide who will be Japan’s top gang! Everyone, are you ready?!

Toman: Yeah!!!

Mikey: Is there anyone scared of tomorrow’s battle?! No one right?! Let’s take the top spot!

(Toman chants)

With the call of Mikey’s voice, Toman’s morale is at its peak. The climax of an alternative future where they continued their revenge.

Mikey: This’ll finally put an end to our revenge.

Takemichi: The final battle.

It’s time to head to the battlefield. Roppongi 3rd multi-story parking lot!

Mikey: Let’s go!

Takemichi: Okay!

Tensions rising! Tokyo Manji Gang, Tenjiku and Black Dragons Gather!!

Tokyo Manji Gang, Tenjiku, Black Dragons A Fight that Lasted One Night to Decide Japan’s Strongest Gang

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dwtdog · 5 months ago

Text

fem dnf week day 5 🎶

“No,” George says, crossing her arms. It’s certainly not a first for her to be shooting down her management’s ideas- but she all but spits it this time, a sharp contrast to her usual cool indifference. “No way in hell.”

Her manager gives her a pained smile, the fight already draining from his eyes, and George relaxes incrementally.

Until someone new enters the room. George glares at her, turning fully in her chair to do so. Her manager’s office is small enough as it is, and a third person coming in is far from comfortable. Especially when that third person is the head of her label.

“George, “ she greets pleasantly, holding out her hand for George to shake. George does so, but only begrudgingly. “I take it you’ve heard the plan?” she tilts her head toward George’s manager, effectively kicking the man out of his own damn office. George can’t help but be a little impressed by the ballsiness of it all.

But that doesn’t mean she likes this plan. “I heard. And I’m not doing it,” George says, uncrossing her arms and relaxing back in her chair, even as she has to make a conscious effort to not grit her teeth.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the lady- Tiffany, damn it- says. “But we’ve already sent the contract to our other artist, and she’s been advised to sign it. As I am advising you to do the same.” “Well I assume she’ll say no, so this doesn’t really matter,” George responds. “Thank you for your time and all that, but I’ve got rehearsals-”

“She signed the contract,” Tiffany cuts her off, her smile entirely plastic. “And I am assured that she will be fine with you doing the same.”

George blinks at her, entirely taken aback. “She- What the hell do you have over her?” She cringes as soon as the words are out of her mouth, but Tiffany only laughs.

“It’s a good deal, for both of you,” she explains, like George isn’t getting it. “I know you two have had some difficulties-”

“That’s putting it lightly,” George grumbles.

“-But this will help her PR. And it’ll get you some added attention, just in time for the tour and the album drop. And the label would appreciate if you two could be more cordial to each other, both in public and private,” Tiffany says the whole thing like it’s a matter of fact, like George’s fate has already been decided. And, she supposes with a sinking feeling in her stomach, that it has.

“Dream.”

“George.”

“Great to… See you. Here. In my studio,” George grits out, gripping the thumb of her left hand in the palm of her right. Dream appears similarly uncomfortable, as she continuously brushes her hair out of her face, shifting on her feet. “Make yourself comfortable,” George adds, throwing her arm out to gesture to the small space. “Probably smaller than you’re used to.”

Dream grimaces, but takes the chair in the corner. George’s favorite. The bastard.

“It’s cozy in here,” Dream says, and George glares. “What? It is.”

“You can just say it sucks,” she says as she flops down in one of the other chairs, mourning the loss of her favorite one. Surely she’ll have to burn it now.

“You think you’re own studio- that you had the final say on designing- sucks?” Dream asks with a raised eyebrow. “That’s- interesting.”

George snorts. “No, I fucking love this place. But I’ve seen the studio they’ve got you in. This shit looks like a damn barn compared to that.”

“Why are you-” Dream starts, cutting herself off with a shake of her head. “Whatever. Moving on. How the hell are we going to make this work?”

“We’re not,” George says, wriggling so she can pull a stick of gum from her pocket and pop it in her mouth. “We’re going to tell them to fuck off. Find a loop hole in the contract. Make them regret it, if we have to.”

Next door, there’s a loud banging of drums, followed by muffled chatter. George doesn’t react, but Dream frowns, looking at the meager sound panels in the studio and the wall the noise is coming from. “Uh, no, sorry. I can’t- I need this. I need to do this.”

“You want to PR date me?” George is standing, before she even realizes she’s moved. “That’s- That’s so- You’re so- What the fuck?”

“Listen,” Dream waves her hands, motioning for George to sit back down. George does, but she hates it. “Let me be clear. It was not my idea.”

“Okay,” George growls. “But you agreed to it. You want to follow through.”

“I do,” Dream says, nodding. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this- I think we could have done something else, but the label is really pressuring me to clean up my look. And this was their solution.”

George flinches. It hurts, to be dismissed like this. To have her feelings dismissed by her employer, her coworker- who she hates, admittedly- all for the sake of a relationship that half the damn world will be able to see through. She says as much, leaving out the bit about her feelings being hurt. She doesn't think Dream would give a single shit about how she feels when her precious career is on the line.

“It’ll work,” Dream says, with an unearned amount of conviction. “People- People want it. They’ll overlook the obvious PR move. Trust me George, when I was unsigned, marketing was my thing.”

“Dream. This isn’t your fucking Tiktoks. This is the damn music industry. The world.”

“It doesn’t matter, George,” Dream shoots back, raising her voice for the first time. “Don’t you get it? This is my career, my dream on the line. For- For no reason.” the anger drains from her, the last sentence said with the deep sort of sadness that makes George squirm, to hear it coming from Dream- eternally optimistic Dream, friendly, open, kind-hearted Dream. To everyone but her, of course, but she’s had years to get used to that.

“What the hell did you even do? I know you suck at PR but- even I know you’re in deep shit this time,” George asks it to distract herself from the flicker of sympathy growing in her chest. “Was it the- the cheating thing again?”

That gets a startled laugh out of Dream, and she seems to relax a bit. “First of all, don’t say it like that. It wasn’t cheating. Me and him had been broken up for ages, but no one ever seems to listen when I say it.”

“Fair enough,” George says with a shrug. “But this time-?”

“It’s because I cam out,” Dream looks away when she says it, like the wall opposite George has suddenly become very interesting. “The label they- They told me not to do it. Said my music was about a certain experience, and if I came out it would ruin that.” “And you want to go along with their cash grab PR shit?” George asks, astounded. “That- What?”

Dream screws her eyes shut, pressing the heels of her hands into them. “I know. I fucking know. It- It feels like shit. I feel like shit for agreeing to it.”

“And for dragging me into it,” George says sardonically, long past accepting that Dream couldn’t give a rats ass about her. “We all make shitty choices, I can understand that. I guess.”

“Fuck,” Dream breathes. “Fuck, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Only just now figuring that out?”

“No, shit George, I am so fucking sorry,” when she lifts her head, her eyes are rimmed with red. George’s stomach drops. “I was so caught up in my own shit that I didn’t even think of how this would feel for you and- I’ll get us out of the contract.”

“What?” George yelps, looking at Dream like she’s lost her damn mind. “But you just said-”

“I know,” Dream cuts her off, again. “But I can’t do it if you don’t want to. And I don’t eve know- how I wasn’t thinking about how you would feel. God, I really am sorry.”

“Okay, stop apologizing,” George says. “You can drop the fucking- act. I know you hate me. It’s fine. Look, we can do this damn PR shit.”

“You know I- What?”

“Stop. Whatever. We can fake date or whatever the hell. As much as I hate it, it’ll be good for me. For my fucking album. So fine,” George feels her self-respect diminishing as she says it, but fuck. What the hell else can she do?

“We can?”

“Yes. Stop asking or I’ll take it back,” George fidgets with the hem of her shirt, fingers aching to hold a guitar, to let her building emotions out in a way that makes sense.

“I- Thank you. But we should really talk about-”

“You two done in here?” a voice calls, before the door to the studio opens. And in walks Tiffany, her usually pomp securely about her. “Dream, you’ve got a photoshoot in half an hour. George, you have a meeting with your producer.”

George nods, holding back every bit of vitriol that crawls at the back of her throat. She’s surprised to realize some of it is on Dream’s behalf- not a feeling she wants to get used to.

“Of course,” Dream says, standing. “Uh- see you around George.”

“Bye baby,” George calls as she’s leaving, taking note of the way the muscles of her lower back twitch, visible due to the cropped shirt she wears. There are worse people to fake date- few as they are- she supposes, as the door shuts with a click.

The first week is fine.

It’s meant to be by design, of course. They can’t just jump straight into a public relationship- they have to lay the groundwork, as George’s manager repeatedly says.

Groundwork involves being seen leaving the studio together, making appearances at the same party, and liking each others tweets. It’s almost laughable, really, but people do pick up on it.

There’s a whole thread on George’s subreddit by the end of the week, of people discussing the possibility of them being friends. She feels a bit of vindication at the amount of comments pointing out that there’s far more evidence of the two of them disliking each other- an oft shared YouTube video of George walking straight past Dream at an event, Dream shaking hands with everyone in George’s group but Georgem and other various social faux paus they’d made toward each other over the years is posted more than once.

The second week is much the same. George is busy with album prep, and Dream seems to always have a million and one things going on, so they aren’t even seen together that week- but George is told to follow Dream on Instagram, and like some of her older posts. It’s fucking ridiculous, and George has a good laugh at the ensuing thread with her best friend, Gia.

“Can you believe they buy this shit?” she asks as she sips at a flute of champagne, her loft filled with the quiet sounds of music. The loft is one of the few perks of her label- it had been written into her contract, and is far outside of what she’d be able to afford otherwise. “Like, it just seems forced, right?”

Gia laughs. “Oh George, you just wouldn’t get it.”

Things fall apart three weeks in- they’ve got a date.

It’s at a cafe in New York, and both George and Dream are flown out for it- on the private jet, of course. The label couldn’t stand the idea of people picking up on the date being staged- so they can’t be seen before they arrive in New York.

Dream has legitimate reasons for being there- some sort of meet and greet at a record store, but George doesn’t. She asks her manager if she should come up with one, but he tells her its better if it seems like she went to New York just for Dream. Which, in her opinion, makes the whole private jet thing pointless, but what the hell does she know.

Which means Dream and George are stuck on a jet together from LA to New York.

They have plenty of room to sit far apart, to mind their own damn business, but Dream’s manager has other plans.

“You two have to get to know each other,” she explains. George thinks it’s unfortunate that the woman is stuck with Dream as a client- she’s always liked Sylvee, and her dedication to her work. But she’s quickly becoming an enemy the more she talks. “So. Talk.”

“Isn’t this what first dates are for,” George grumbles, swirling her cup of tea. “The whole- getting to know each other shit.”

“Real first dates,” Dream says cheekily. “Ours is fake.”

“Thanks, captain obvious,” George takes a swig of her tea, hissing when it burns her tongue. “What happened to you being all apologetic?”

“Is that coffee?” Dream asks, distractedly.

“Uh- No?”

“Oh, good. I don’t think I could fake date someone who likes coffee,” Dream takes a sip of her own drink, blanching after. “Ow.”

“Nice going, genius.”

“I just watch you do the same thing,” Dream protests, taking the lid off her cup and blowing on it like that’ll do shit.

“Whatever,” George shrugs. “Should have learned from my mistakes.”

They’re silent for a beat after that, and the plane feels uncomfortably small. George wishes, for a moment, that they could just fall from the sky like a puppet with its strings cut. At least that would save her from this damn conversation.

“So uh,” Dream starts, squirming in her seat. “Do you have any hobbies? Besides music, I guess.”

The rest of the flight is spent making awkward small talk- they go back and forth like a tennis match, asking inane questions until they run out. Then they talk about the weather. George wants to die.

When the plane touches down, George is on the verge of collapse. She misses her studio, her apartment, her friends. She hates New York- just because it’s the city that’s causing the current bullshit. She thinks she’d like it under normal circumstances.

Their ride into the city is a nice car, the windows tinted heavily. George claims the front seat, and Dream seems content enough to take the back and stretch her legs across the entire span of it. The driver plays shitty pop- one of Dream’s songs comes on, which makes George laugh- and they make it to their hotel.

George thanks her lucky stars when she gets confirmation that they have separate rooms. She wouldn’t put it past her management to pull some shit, or for some sort of error to make things somehow worse, but she gets the satisfaction of collapsing into her own bed, even if there is a door connecting her room to Dream’s.

She gets the whole first day to herself- she has instructions to visit popular places, to let herself be seen, but she can handle that.

George’s music is relatively niche, so only a few people approach her. She has security, of course, hovering only a few paces behind at all times, but it’s easier to forget they’re there as she wanders Times Square, entirely enamored with it. There’s something about the way everything moves that draws her in, a city that feels entirely alive by its own power. It reminds her of London, in a way, and homesickness makes her chest ache.

When she returns to the hotel that evening, she can barely make it through her shower before she’s falling asleep, muscles aching from the thousands of steps she’d taken.

She’s awoken by a knock, and a sense of unease falls over her when she realizes that it’s not coming from the door to the hallway. Of course, that unease quickly turns to frustration when she registers who it is that could be knocking at the door connected to Dream’s room.

“What do you want,” she says when she swings it open, finding Dream’s golden eyes waiting for her. Her hair is different than she’s ever seen it, curly instead of straight, and it’s a bit distracting- only because of the unfamiliarity.

“Sorry,” Dream says, shuffling her feet. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you woke me up,” George deadpans, yawning. Dream does the same after a moment, face twitching in a small smile when it’s over.

“Yeah, sorry. I uh- I thought we could talk. Like- for real.”

It sounds- fucking awful, honestly. George just wants this to be over with. Her opinion of Dream isn’t going to change because she suddenly wants to have a heart to heart. “Did the label put you up to this?”

“No,” Dream answers quickly, shaking her head and making her curls bounce. “This is all me.”

“Will you go away if I say no?”

“Uh-” Dream bites her lip, and George groans.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with,” she swings the door open, abandoning it to plop down on her bed, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her chest.

Dream follows after a moment, leaving the door open behind her. She sits next to George on the bed, pulling her legs up and crossing them beneath her.

“So,” George says, drawing the vowel out.

“Right, yeah. Uhm. I’m sorry,” Dream says, eyes downcast.

“For what?” George prompts, the list expanding in her mind. “You can go in alphabetical order, if you want.”

“Uh- For waking you up? For getting you into this mess? For not thinking of your feelings.”

“Good start,” George says with a small nod. “And?”

“And- What?” Dream asks, and the tiny amount of goodwill she’d built up instantly vanishes.

“Do I need to spell it out?” George grits her teeth, digging her nails into the pillowcase. “Because I don’t think I should have to.”

Dream finally meets her eyes, and her expression is- conflicting. It’s all confusion, furrowed eyebrows and a tilted head, lips quirked, eyes wide. “I really have no idea, I’m- sorry, I guess. That I don’t know what I’m sorry for.”

George snorts. “Fine. Say I believe you. Say I said that the reason you should be apologizing is how you’ve treated me since the start. Like I’m nothing. Like because you got signed so quick, blew up so fast, you’re better than me. I’d say hey, that kind of really fucking hurt- hurts.”

The silence that falls over them after that is one George isn’t used to. The sounds of the city are entirely shut out by soundproofed walls, and Dream’s breathing is unsteady, billowing to fill the room in the absence of anything else.

“But you have ‘no idea’ about any of that, so. Not sure how you could apologize,” George adds, because she can. Because it feels fucking good, to get this shit off her chest.

But then something in Dream’s demeanor changes. Her face rapidly shifts from confusion to retaliatory anger, eyes going from wide to narrow.

“That is not fair,” she says, and her voice breaks a bit on the last word. “I- You treated me like shit first!”

And now it’s George’s turn to blink, searching Dream’s face and realizing that she completely believes what she’s saying.

George’s first instinct is to deny, to tell Dream that she’s wrong. But Dream holds up a hand when she opens her mouth.

“Wait. Just- wait. Okay. Can you- tell me. What you think happened between us? From the beginning,” Dream says it with more authority than George has ever heard from her, and it should piss her off- but in the moment, it feels good to have guidance. So she talks.

“The first time we met. You ignored me. It was that fucking- party. The one the label through for you. I came up to say congratulations or whatever, and you- You totally blew me off!”

“Okay,” Dream says, nodding. “Okay, that does seem pretty shitty of me. But that wasn’t the first time we met,” she says it with all the finality of a falling gavel, the lynchpin in her defense. And George- Is lost.

“Uhm- Yes it was? I would have remembered meeting you,” she blushes as soon as the words are out of her mouth, which is fucking stupid. Because, sure, Dream is objectively her type. To the damn tee. And she sings. Well, as much as George is loathe to admit. “I mean- Whatever.”

“Oh,” Dream says, and it’s an oh sort of oh. George is blushing still. “Uh- Okay. But we met way before that.”

“When,” George demands, leaning forward. “Just fucking- tell me.”

“At a party. New Years? I think? You were siting at the bar and I thought, fuck it, we’re both in the same industry now, it’s as good a time as any to shoot my shot,” Dream explains in a rush, like George will stop her. “And you weren’t into me. Totally fine, obviously. But when you were at my signing party- I just felt so damn awkward. I didn’t know how to talk to you so I just- didn’t. And I am sorry for that.”

“You- What? Asked me out?” George asks, the puzzle pieces floating in her head, waiting to fall into place.

“Just for drinks. If you wanted one, I mean.”

“And I- said no? To you?”

Dream taps her fingers against the comforter. “You hardly looked at me. It was like- I didn’t exist,” she huffs out a laugh. “Ironic, I guess.”

“Oh fuck,” George groans, dropping her head into her hands. “I’m an idiot.”

“So am I,” Dream offers. “I probably could have just- been normal, at my party. But I couldn’t be, so you thought I hated you. And then I thought you hated me. Mostly because you were always so- standoffish.”

“It hurt,” George admits, curling in on herself. “To see how fucking nice you were to everyone else, and you could never even look at me. So I built this image up in my head, of you like- hating me. Thinking you were better than me.”

Dream laughs, short and sharp. “I uh- went to your first ever official show. If that means anything.”

“In that shitty venue with half the lights broken?” George asks, entirely taken aback. “That was- I wasn’t even signed yet.”

“I know,” Dream snorts. “It was so- I think that was my sexual awakening, honestly. Your voice and the way you sang-”

“Dream,” George gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. “You’re- You’re Claire.”

“You remember me?”

“Fucking- Yes. Oh my god. Holy shit. You came to like, half of my shows,” George wants to slap herself. It all makes sense now- she can see it now, Dream with her hair in its natural curls, looking so similar to George’s memory of the girl who had been barricade at her first few shows.

The rest of the night slips away- Dream and George talk until the sun comes up, about how Dream had found George’s music, about the label, everything.

George thinks she’s a new person under the morning sun. And she can see Dream for who she really is- and she doesn’t think she’ll forget again anytime soon.

The fourth week is George’s favorite. The rumors are in full force, after their very public New York date. George is kind of floored by just how famous Dream is- she knew objectively, of course, but experiencing it is a whole new beast.

But none of that is what makes her love that week. It’s something that’s entirely private, kept from the newly prying eyes of the public, from the greedy hands of their label.

It’s a night spent in George’s loft, Dream sneaking in through the fire escape. It’s barely restrained giggles and shared drinks, small touches and and closing space.

It’s George’s couch, and Dream’s hand on her waist, and the sound of the city around them. It’s stories of Dream’s family, of George’s love for London.

It’s a moment of quiet, a break in the conversation. It’s George leaning in, and Dream gasping softly into her mouth, lips impossibly plush against hers. It’s hands and lips and noses brushing, kisses that drag on and on until their horizontal on the couch, George’s hands holding her over Dream, Dream’s hands in her hair. It’s the promise of more, as they fall asleep tangled together right on the couch.

And it’s giggling together as they read the tabloids and the Reddit posts, as George’s manager sends her articles about getting along with people you dislike. It’s everything.

George loses count of the weeks. She asks Dream out during one of them, to be her girlfriend. She releases her album in another, with a song featuring Dream charting higher than anything else she’s released.

(People ask, often, if she’s bitter about it. ‘Why would I be?’ She says. ‘My girlfriend is the best- but I wrote the damn thing’)

Her tour is in one of the weeks after. It sells out, and they get frozen fruit to celebrate. And somehow, during her first show, there’s a beautiful girl watching her, cheering her on.

And at her last show, she pulls Dream on stage, grins wolfishly at the cameras. Mine, she thinks, when she kisses her under the lights.

#cq.writing #this was so fun oh my god #fem dnf week 2024

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hopelesslyromanticgay · 1 year ago

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I Fell For Her (literally)

Jenna Ortega X Fem!reader

Summary: Jenna meets Y/N at a fan event

Y/N's POV

Tonight was finally the night.

I grew up watching her on TV. At first it was just in commercials, but she slowly became more and more integrated into my TV programs.

When she got her own show, Stuck in the Middle, I started to pay more and more attention to her. I kept watching all of the projects she was in. The scream movies, X, The Fallout, You, American Carnage, and of much of her interviews and PR events. I've practically grown up alongside her.

She has no idea who I am, though.

Tonight, that's going to change.

Tonight I am going to meet Jenna Ortega.

...

I pull up to the expo right about when it starts, making sure I have my tickets.

I spend the first few hours looking at all of the merch and talking to other people at the event. everyone's so excited for the panel with the cast of Wednesday.

The panel itself was exciting, and I loved getting to see the cast live. Even if it was from far way.

After the panel, people run out of the convention space in a blur, practically climbing on top of each other.

It's loud, people are screaming, and the space reeks of weed and booze.

It takes me forever just to get out of the building. By the time the people part and I can make a exit, I run for it. I need to get out.

I make it out of the area, but not without violently colliding with someone. I fall to the floor, directly on top of someone

"I'm so sorry!" I say quickly, "I didn't see you there."

"Don't worry about it," the girl under me says. I look down to see the girl I fell onto is non other than Jenna Marie Ortega. Shit. I scramble up to my feet, I can see her security team making it's way towards me.

"Oh my god, can I help you up?" I ask. She's even prettier in person.

"I'm good, but thank you," she smiles, getting to her feet, "what's your name."

"I'm Y/n," I tell her, shaking her hand.

"Miss Ortega, is this girl causing you any trouble?" her team finally catches up to us.

"No not at all, it was an honest mistake," she tells them. I sigh in relief.

"Don't worry, I'm not one of your haters. Actually like the exact opposite. I'm such a huge fan, I've seen all of you projects!" I ramble, "you're like one of my favorite people. Oh my god I can't believe I crashed into you, I'm so so sorry."

"It's fine," she laughs, "I'm so glad I could meet such a devout fan." she gestures to my Tara Carpenter final girl T shirt.

"Oh my god, this is so embarrassing," I laugh awkwardly.

"Believe me, you're a lot better than some of my fans," she assures me.

"Why thank you."

"Well of course," she goes along with the old-timey politeness.

"Miss Ortega, your car is here," her guard informs her.

"Oh, of course. Well, Y/N, it was so nice to meet you! Maybe I'll see you some time soon!"

"Maybe!"

Oh my god. I can't believe I had a whole conversation with Jenna Ortega.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #reader insert #cute #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #i love jenna ortega #vada cavell #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #fanfiction #fan #romance #lesbian fanfic #lesbians

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fourswords · 9 months ago

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shadow's sacrifice being ultimately selfish in nature—wanting to save the one person who was somewhat kind to him without any strings attached for the first time in his short life—is one of the best things about the whole thing tbh. like here he is coming off the ass end of vio's betrayal and being vaporized by the light of the four sword and begging ganon not to revive him because he's absolutely terrified of the light and ganon ignoring him and dragging him back into it anyway and suddenly he comes face to face with zelda, shaking and sobbing like the world's most pathetic little leaf in a hurricane, and like. the thing about zelda's words to him is that they aren't even. about shadow??? as a person??? to be honest???

she looks at him and says he can be a hero because he's a LINK. because despite her previous hostility with him she sees this warped image of her best friend come crawling out of the dark mirror all hurt and scared and "faint and twisted echo" or not...he still wears the face of her best friend. and because of that i think she IS kind of projecting her own emotions about seeing her friend's face in so much pain. i mean, hell, when the dark cloud takes her, it's LINK she calls for. when she KNOWS that shadow and link aren't the same person. but projection or not, she gave shadow the first truly kind words he ever heard in his life, even if they were less about HIS character and more about link's. so when she calls for link, he answers. and that's what drives him to take on vio's image, to aid the other links, to smash the chair into the dark mirror and kill himself to take vaati down with him.

BUT! one thing i do love is that his ACTUAL acceptance of the light came when green told him that he was one of them. one panel that drives me absolutely rabid is when shadow is still disguised as vio and green finds him and instantly starts fussing over him—asking him if he's hurt, if he's alright, telling him to lean on him, etc., and when green reaches out for his hand shadow reaches back for him with his own trembling hand for just a moment before rejecting the offer ("don't worry about me." in the fan translation/"i... i'm fine." in the viz translation) and redirecting green's attention to the fact that zelda's in danger. but when green (the second person ever to be kind to him without strings attached, even though, as with zelda, it wasn't strictly for HIM at first) looks down at him and smiles and tells him that he's one of them (that he isn't alone), THAT'S when shadow reaches towards the light and accepts it without fear, wholly and completely. THAT'S him reaching back for green's hand—when green looks at him and actually sees HIM, as his own person, and still counts him as one of them anyway, even after everything. and given that shadow is still alive once the links become link as a whole again, no matter how much i think link and shadow would grumble at and argue with each other for shadow's villain spree and vio's betrayal and whatnot, that interaction is always going to be present in their minds. it's gonna be like "congratulations douchebag! now you're stuck with me no matter what! sucks to be you!" on both their ends and zelda is very kindly not going to point out that they're both grinning like morons when they turn away from each other after butting heads for the millionth time. you see my vision

#nobody talks about green and shadow enough. or blue and shadow but i already made that post #fsa #shadow link #<-yeah i'll put this in his main tag. why not. sorry y'all #four swords #txt

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emkayewrites · 5 months ago

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These two pictures inspired one of the chapters of my Lukola fanfiction called 'Curtain Fall'...

Here's a sneak preview:

17th June 2022 – Brockenhurst (UK)

Everything about The Pig exuded charming British elegance. Nestled in the heart of the historic New Forest National Park, the homely country manor served as a five-star hotel with an acclaimed restaurant. It was a favourite weekend escape for city dwellers who were attracted to it for its natural beauty; from free-roaming local horses to ancient woodlands that were perfect for long walks.

It was a place particularly revered for offering the finest of traditional English dining without excessive pretension. The dining rooms had a rustic, cosy charm, featuring open fires and mismatched antique furniture.

Nicola and Luke sat opposite each other at a farmhouse-style table in a private dining room called the Green Room that was reserved for special guests. A Victorian-style fireplace and floor-to-ceiling conservatory doors opened onto a private garden terrace. Before them lay a half-eaten feast: salads with organic vegetables from the estate's garden, freshly baked bread with warm butter, a plate of oyster mushroom pappardelle for her, and a sourdough pizza for him.

They had been invited to this countryside retreat for the weekend courtesy of the production team. This was their first day and they had been greeted with a prepared lunch. He sat there in a slightly over-sized salmon button-down shirt and jeans. In contrast, she was dressed in a little more sophistication. She wore a dark tapestry mini dress with tie shoulders that cinched in her waist in a way she hoped would be flattering.

"You know, when Jess told me we should get bonding, she mentioned doing it over a coffee. This is a little more than a coffee." Nicola laughed, trying to shake the awkwardness off herself. She was used to spending time with Luke but this setting felt different. It felt intimate.

"It's on brand though." Luke replied, nodding at their surroundings. He was not wrong. This could be a room straight from Bridgerton.

She reached out and touched the green wall panels.

"What do you reckon this is – Farrow and Ball?" She quizzed.

"What's that?"

"You haven't heard of Farrow and Ball?"

He shrugged in an I don't know what to tell you sort of way.

"Well, that surprises me. Maybe you're not as posh as I think you are." She teased. "It's very posh paint, with pretentious names like Elephant's Fanny and Leopard's Arse."

He laughed. "OK, that's quite enough. You need to stop calling me posh. People might start believing you and expecting things from me."

"Anything east of Dublin is posh," she retorted, making him laugh again.

This is what she thrived on: banter. Their friendship was based on her dry wit and sarcasm. Making him or anyone else on set laugh was a small victory for her. She was trying hard not to think about having to switch gears and drop the humour she wore as armour.

She had not wanted to admit it, but sitting across from him now, it was harder to deny: he was absolutely beautiful. To make matters worse, he was kind too.

Why couldn't the love interest be someone with a hideous personality in real life? She found herself wandering.

She was barely out of her reverie when he reached out and wrapped his hand around hers, guiding it gently away from the wall and in front of his face, inches from his lips. He took a deep breath, and his blue eyes bore into her own.

Oh God, that was his Colin face.

You can read more here:

#luke newton #nicola coughlan #bridgerton #polin fanfiction #bridgerton fanfiction #lukola #polin #colin x penelope #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #ao3 fanfic #lukola fanfic

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smoshidiot · 5 months ago

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vidcon 2024 !

hi guys this is my rambly post abt my experience at vidcon this year if anyone wants to read abt it! overall i wanna say that it was absolutely incredible and i def wanna go back next yearr

DAY 1: check in! literally nothing youtube related happened this day but it was fun as hell to check out the venue and meet up with my friends

DAY 2: smosh meet and greet day. holy shit. in the morning was anthony's ISADW matpat panel and besties when i tell you i was worried he wouldn't be there until I SAW HIM WITH MY TWO EYES. but incredibly he does exist? and he DID show up to vidcon? the panel was such a blast and it was interesting to hear about how the past few months have been for matpat. it was also just cool as hell knowing the rest of smosh was waiting right behind the curtain 🥹 and we could see nicole off to the side enjoying the panel. also shout out to @smoshkidtv who i got to meet before the panel and is legit the greatest i love them sm ok ty

then, almost right after, there's a post on socials that's like "get to the M&G early if you want free essentials merch!" so ofc me and a few friends BOOK it up to the M&G line and are prepared to sit and wait for like 4h lmao. we pass the time by watching smosh the movie and it goes by surprisingly quickly. after being moved into the official queue it's really not that long before smosh shows up and the nerves HIT. luckily we did show up early enough for the merch (smh for 4h we better have lmaoo) and it was so cool to talk to some of the crew (kiana/erica) passing it out. then the whole smosh cast comes out. weirdly the FIRST person i saw was marcus lmao but it was great to see him (and his eyebrows) in person.

i was near the very front of the line so i really didn't even have that much time to prep before i went up with my bestie of all time @smoshmonker! but waaaa ok so we go up and anthony calls out the shirt i'm wearing bc it's a recreation of my fave 2006 catch em all shirt

he asks if i bought it from smosh.com and i go "i made it actually!" and he's like :000 and thinks it's really cool until spencer yells "DUPE" and they all get fake mad at me LMAO. i remember ian going "we're gonna sue your ass" and i'll cherish that forever. anyways then i introduce myself and say that i do art n shit and nearly forget to say my name. but holy shit guys... the second i go "my name is ana", i see ian and anthony LIGHT up 🥺 they immediately recognized me and seemed excited to see me, it was genuinely so surreal. i didn't get to talk to anthony much directly bc he was standing in the back but it looked like he WANTED to say smth to me and even that was wild. and ian was so fuckin sweet and complimentary abt my art. then i ask if we can do a friendship always wins highfive pose. ofc i ask if ian and anthony can reach each other even tho they're not standing right next to each other. bc quite frankly, what's the point of doing this pose if the besties aren't highfiving?

then the second pose was more of a surprise for @yourinterestisnotcringe hehe. we brought out a potato plush for ian to hold and he was too fuckin cute about it. he was absolutely charmed by the idea of the lil potato plush and i love this pose that he went for lmao

then as we're about to leave, ian surprises my by going "thank you for all of the cool art that you make!" and i'm just .. on fucking cloud 9. i go absolutely breathless for a moment when ian hecox, standing right in front of me, thanks me for the stuff that i make. i stutter out smth like "sorry but can i hug you?" and him being the sweetest man ever goes "absolutely!" and goes in for the hug 😭💕 it was the perfect hug and i'll forever have the mental image of his lil gold chain sparkling in the light.

then we go off to the side and @squig-s is there talking to erica and kiana again and ?? they introduce me to alé? who was so freakin cool and lovely and reached out to shake my hand. then to be quite honest we all leave the meet and greet and have a good fuckin cry bc we JUST MET SMOSH

DAY 3: panel day! we get there early as FUCK bc we have a Plan(tm) and need to be in the front row to execute it lmao. like 10 months ago we had the plan for a bunch of us to dress as that damn neighbor at vidcon and damn it, we WENT for it.

also here's ian and anthony (and damien lol) shouting us out at the beginning of the panel

the panel itself was a ton of fun! it was a live reading of reddit stories and one of them was NUTS. it was such a blast to receive a live update tbh. then RIGHT after the reddit panel ended, we had to book it upstairs to get seats for the smosh mouth panel.

I don't remember a ton from this one other than them talking about boobs for most of it. also !! krungle is returning!! i'm so fuckin excited i'd die for krungle i can't wait to have her back. also anthony was sitting on the ground off to the side of the panel and i made awkward eye contact w him a few times lol. i am also honestly bummed that ian wasn't the guest for this one, but spencer and angela were great and they really just goofed off for an hour, it was a fun time.

DAY 4: the last day of vidcon </3 there wasn't a ton on the schedule today regarding smosh, but i DID have a slot for the mari meet and greet so i made sure to go check that out and ?? holy shit ALL of OGSoG was there 🥺 i had actually met them before at a con years ago and it was so wild to see them again, i really didn't think i'd be able to. this meet and greet was SO much more chill than smosh just based on nerves. these 4 were honestly so sweet and the vibes were so fuckin goofy it was lovely ♡ also who's gonna tell joven that this isn't a heart

then we had the mythical kitchen panel! it was a lot of fun even tho i only rly knew trevor and josh oop. trevor was such a sweetheart and stayed after at the end to take some pics and i got one with him on my fuckin 3DS lmao. i love the crunch of this pic, it's one of my faves from the weekend tbh. also i pray to GOD that he wears this hoodie again. he looks so good in pink

but that's pretty much it! idk if anyone is even reading this so hi if u did ♡ it was such a magical week and i'm so so so fuckin grateful for it all

#smosh #shut up.txt #vidcon

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noorthehood · 1 year ago

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Until You • 01

Miguel O'Hara/Reader

Faster updates on Ao3!

With a glimpse of a futuristic cityscape and an encounter with a Spiderman seemingly much different from the one you’re used to, you unknowingly find yourself thrust into a web of intrigue and danger as the very fabric of space and time is warping. Who will you trust?

...................................................................................................

“Lyla, input the diagnostics results.”

The holographic AI dramatically throws her head back with a loud sigh, displaying what seems to be exasperation, before appearing next to Miguel’s right shoulder in an instant.

“Would it kill you to be courteous? Jeez.” Her voice echoes in his ear as she swiftly transfers massive amounts of data onto the screens in front of him. “Keep that up and you’ll die alone.”

“I’m already well on track for that.” Miguel mutters, shaking his head to ignore the persistent ringing in his right ear. He taps the hovering screens, attempting to make sense of the flood of information presented to him, but frustration paints his face as he places a hand on his hip, clearly dissatisfied with what he’s looking at.

After taking on the responsibility to resolve anomalous situations across universes, the self-proclaimed leader of the Spider-Society had been juggling some issues pertaining to his own respective reality for several weeks now. Not that it had kept him from keeping the order in the multiverse, far from it — but he had allowed said issues to pile up long enough that they became an inconvenience.

“This isn’t what I need.” He grumbles, growing more irritated. “It doesn’t tell me anything.”

Lyla groans.

“Well if you had just, I don’t know, taken care of it six months ago before Stone got his hands on reality-altering tech—”

“I know, I know, don’t you shocking start with that again.” Miguel interrupts, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I screwed up, we get it. And now it’s on me to fix this mess—which is what I’m trying to do.”

His eyes briefly glance up at the live feed from the storage room where said tech was being securely kept.

“But I can’t do much if I don’t even know what it is I’m dealing with.”

A flat metallic platform, that was it. Roughly 15 feet on each side, no discernible control panel, energy source, or any other identifying features. After a surprise raid into Alchemax’s quarters following scattered electrical surges that left nearly half the city without power for a few minutes, he had stumbled upon the strange contraption in the underground level of the building. The machine—if you could even call it that—was surrounded by passed out scientists strewn out across the room, many of which were visibly brain-fried from the sheer power they had been subjected to. One thing led to another, and the mystery device was now being monitored at the Spider-Society’s base.

“I can see if there’s a way to examine the circuit board and extract more data, but…” Lyla hesitates, “That’s assuming there is a motherboard at all. I rarely say this, but I’m afraid my skills might fall short in this case.”

One thing was sure though; whatever that device was, it did not originate from his universe.

He could sense it the moment he walked into that lab. A faint, continuous buzz reminiscent of TV static emanated from the machine, imperceptible to the human ear but painfully noticeable to his heightened senses. The hum quickly became unbearable, prompting him to relocate the device to another room for the sake of his sanity.

That might perhaps explain why Lyla couldn’t provide any significant information about the device—despite essentially being a supercomputer, there were limits to her cross-dimensional knowledge.

“Just…do whatever you can. I’m counting on you.” He says, walking toward the exit as his mask materializes over his face. “I’m heading out. Let me know if you’ve got any news by the time I’m back.”

“Sure thing, Supreme Leader.” Lyla mockingly responds.

Miguel scoffs and steps outside, but takes one last glance over his shoulder at the machine on the screen. An uneasy feeling was gnawing at him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger as to why—call it intuition.

“Let’s hope you don’t bring me more problems than I already have.”

* * *

Hours have passed since Miguel's departure. Lyla remained a steadfast sentinel, her projection poised beside the dormant machine (which she had nicknamed Carmen); she was monitoring it diligently, occasionally responding to other requests from Spider-people, while still remaining vigilant.

“What’s the matter this time?” she mutters to herself, her voice laced with a hint of exasperation, as she looks at the holographic screen in front of her. Ever since the creation of the Spider-Society, her days had been filled with an endless stream of inquiries and requests for intel, leaving her with little respite.

‘Lyla, could you update me on that Scorpion guy from last week? I brought him in from Earth-5684 but—’

Before they could finish their sentence, a sudden, intense buzzing reverberates through the lab, causing the lights to flicker and casting an eerie glow over the room. The disturbance jolts Lyla from her virtual reverie, momentarily freezing her digital form in surprise.

“...That can’t be good.”

In the fraction of a second, without warning, a soft vibration reverberates through the room, a low hum that seems to originate from the very heart of the machine. It pulses with a persistent rhythm, gradually growing in intensity with each passing second. The air crackles, charged with an electric energy that seems to awaken the dormant device.

As if responding to an unseen conductor, the once inert machine bursts into life, its sleek surface flickering in a dance of lights. Multicolored beams of illumination sweep across its intricate circuits, transforming the previously monotonous exterior into a mesmerizing display of pulsating colors, as though the machine had been infused with a newfound vitality, electrified by an invisible current.

It seemed like the fabric of reality itself had been punctured. The storage room, once a haven of silence and shadows, was now vibrating with an outworldly energy.

Without hesitation, Lyla hangs up on her previous interlocutor and activates the communication interface, swiftly sending Miguel a notification. "Miguel has got to see thi—”

Her statement was promptly cut short by a sudden burst of blinding light which enveloped the room, illuminating every corner with an intense radiance. Simultaneously, a piercing, high-pitched ringing filled the air, drowning out all other sounds within the lab.

As the blinding flash dissipated, leaving nothing but fading afterimages, a heavy silence descended upon the room—the once buzzing and vibrant space now seemed suspended in stillness, as if time itself held its breath. Lyla's holographic form shimmered, adjusting to the abrupt change in atmosphere, her virtual senses on high alert.

She advances toward the enigmatic machine, her luminous projection casting a soft yellow glow on the metallic surface. As she draws closer, her eyes widen in astonishment, taking in the unexpected sight that greeted her.

Before her lay two women, unconscious and sprawled across the surface of the enigmatic machine. Their bodies were still, seemingly untouched by the events that had just unfolded.

Caution mingled with curiosity as Lyla floats closer, hovering above the motionless figures. She observes them with a mix of awe and concern, contemplating her next course of action. Uncertainty gnawed at her programming—should she consider them civilians, or potential foes?

With a resolute decision, she reaches out to initiate a diagnostic scan. Her holographic fingers gently brush against the women's motionless bodies, activating the scanning protocols within her digital realm. The familiar yellow grid of data begins to envelop them, meticulously probing for any signs of distress or anomalies.

A few minutes pass as the scan progresses, her virtual eyes scrutinize the readings, processing the influx of information. Every datapoint was meticulously analyzed, every anomaly would be cataloged for further investigation—yet, despite the thorough examination, the results provided no immediate answers. The women appear unharmed, their vitals stable.

“Just where the hell did you both come from?” An unease settled within Lyla's digital core.

As though to answer her question, you suddenly jolt up, gasping for air. It felt like you had been holding your breath for hours, and the stagnant air of the dark room you found yourself in nearly felt like hot coal in your lungs.

The dim lighting makes it hard for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you still look around, not recognizing your surroundings nor remembering how you ended up there. Did you fall asleep in an unused meeting room? Or did you pass out from skipping all meals at work again?

Your mind was clouded with incessant ringing, and the strange pressure in your chest was not helping.

“How…” You begin before your own body interrupts you, giving you an uncontrollable urge to retch.

Hands and knees on the cold ground, you wipe the saliva off the corner of your mouth, making sure your clothes remain untouched, before clumsily attempting to stand up—in vain. A few attempts later, the agitation begins to kick in as you realize something is clearly off. The shortness of breath, the persisting tinnitus, your uncooperative muscles, the obviously unfamiliar room—weren’t you at the office a minute ago?

You blink a few times and finally are able to make out the space around you. Are those…machines? And the cold ground under your hands and feet is just…a large slab of polished metal?

“Where the hell is this?” You whisper under your breath, finally able to stand up on your own two feet. “What…am I doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You jump back in fright, letting out a loud yelp at the sudden female voice coming from beside you.

You turn your head to catch a glimpse of a bright presence next to you—right in front of your face, as a matter of fact. You yell out in surprise and nearly tumble backwards as you make out the details of your startling interlocutor.

A small, glowing, floating woman.

“What the—”

You don’t even have time to process the sight in front of you before she disappears and reappears behind you in a split second.

“Before anything else, I think you should note you’ve got another friend over here.”

Nearly gasping for air in incomprehension, you frown and squint in the direction the small ghostly projection was illuminating with her glowing yellow figure. It takes you a second to recognize the body of a woman laying still on the ground.

“Oh, shit, that’s—” Hurriedly, you stumble in her direction to check in on the woman. You recognize her, having seen her at the office before—but your mind was too clouded and all over the place to focus on where exactly you know her from. “Are—Are you okay? Can you hear me, are you hurt?”

With shaking hands and voice, you manage to check her pulse and see that she’s breathing.

“If you can hear me, I’m part of the office ERT, can you—”

“Gee, I just said you had another friend, not that you need to give them mouth-to-mouth.” The female voice chimed in behind you. “She’s fine, just knocked out.”

You hesitate and look back and forth at the unconscious woman, then her. Cautiously, you take a few steps in her direction, keeping your body as a shield between her and the motionless body.

“Who are—”

“Urgh, please! Spare me the questions. How cliché.” The glowing figure interjects, leaving you no chance to place a word.

You frown.

This situation was getting increasingly bizarre; why were you talking to this ghostly woman in the first place? Nothing guarantees that she isn’t a fragment of your imagination—what if you hit your head and were hallucinating the whole thing?

For now, your priority was to make sure the unconscious woman behind you got the proper care she needed. You turn on your heels and prop her arm onto your shoulder, attempting to position her into a piggyback-like hold.

“Wait, what are you—” After a few tries, you finally succeed, and start looking for an exit to the room. “Hold on, I need you to stay put before—”

Ignoring her calls, you finally notice a large hexagonal-shaped gate across the room. Although the woman on your back is quite light and petite, you nearly trip several times due to thick wires scattered across the ground coming from all sorts of machines, of the kind you’ve never seen before. You try not to give it too much thought and walk up to the gate before it opens automatically.

“Where do you think you’re going? You can’t just walk off on—are you listening to me?”

You wave off the small woman, leaving her with a gaping mouth and an offended look on her face, before stepping outside.

As the gate opens, the blinding light of the outside world makes you automatically raise your free hand to your face, slowly adjusting to the drastic change of atmosphere.

Slowly but surely, your eyes are able to make out the sight in front of you.

“What in the…”

The sight that unfolds before you defies all expectations, leaving you in a state of awe and disbelief. Instead of the familiar surroundings you were anticipating, you find yourself standing in the midst of a futuristic cityscape that stretches far beyond the limits of your imagination.

Towering skyscrapers adorned with sleek, shimmering glass rise into the sky, their impressive height seemingly reaching for the heavens—the buildings showcase breathtaking architectural designs, with curvaceous contours and intricate patterns that defy gravity and conventional norms. The city pulses with life, its streets bustling with futuristic vehicles zipping past in a blur of neon lights and sleek lines.

You can feel your heart rate increasing exponentially, and you drop to your knees, unable to understand what is happening as questions swirl within you—is this an elaborate dream?

“What the hell is this place…” You whisper to yourself, barely able to breathe.

As you stand there, captivated and petrified by the unfamiliar futuristic cityscape stretching out before you, an unshakeable feeling of being watched prickles at the back of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine, sending a wave of unease coursing through your veins; instinctively, you turn around, your heart pounding in your chest.

In that split second, a shadowy figure descends from above with startling speed, and before you can react, a needle glints in the dim light, plunging into your arm. A sharp sting jolts through your body as the tranquilizer takes effect, swiftly robbing you of your senses.

“I told you to stay put.” You faintly hear the same female voice from earlier echoing from behind you.

With a last desperate gasp for breath, you try to stay conscious, fighting against the overpowering sedation. But it's a futile struggle; your body slowly succumbs to the tranquilizer's grip, and you sink into unconsciousness.

As your vision fades and your mind drifts away, you catch a glimpse of the mysterious figure standing over you. Their features remain obscured, concealed by the darkness and the adrenaline coursing through your veins, but you are able to discern the familiar sight in front of you.

A final thought echoes in your fading consciousness, and you let out one last whisper before the darkness claims you completely.

“...Spiderman?”

............................................................................................................

Hope you enjoyed! More on A03 !!

Ch. 02 Here

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara fanfic #spiderverse

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autball · 2 years ago

Text

Dueling PDAers.

This just so happens to be a sometimes acceptable way to nudge kids into doing things more independently, or to set boundaries when you’re afraid of your kids becoming too “controlling.”

But it’s not *really* why I do it. That’s just a bonus.

I *have* to do stuff like this sometimes so I can keep my own PDA in check while meeting the demands of parenting. When I know I’m truly needed by them, I’m okay. But when it’s stuff I know they can technically do for themselves, PDA rears up and is ready to be mad about it.

So in situations like this, I can either flat out say, “No, do it yourself” (leaving my kid feeling abandoned and unsafe), I can get up and do it while visibly angry about it (leaving my kid feeling bad about themselves), or I can find a way to take *some* small amount of power back and put my extreme drive for autonomy at ease enough to keep calm and carry on.

The third option is best, obviously, so that's what I try to do as much as possible. Seems to work okay for all of us at the moment.

[Image description: A 4 panel cartoon by Autball.

1: An ND child (light blue/blue) and an ND adult (light green/green) sit with their feet up on a red couch. Child plays on an iPad, Adult works on a laptop. Child says, “I’m hungry.” Adult responds, “Okay. I just went shopping so we lots of snacks to choose from.”

2: Top half: Close up of Child with one raised eyebrow. To their left, PDA has popped up in a thought cloud wearing a gun belt and cowboy boots, looking angry and ready to duel. Child says, “I want you to get it for me.”

Bottom half: Close up of Adult with one raised eyebrow and a partial smile. To their right, PDA has popped up in a thought cloud wearing a gun belt and cowboy boots, looking angry and ready to duel. Adult says, “Do ya now?”

3: Original scene, except now there is a thought cloud between them that shows their two PDAs looking at each other, ready to duel as a tumbleweed blows by at high noon. Adult says, “Tell you what. I can get it the next time I get up, and if you don’t wanna wait that long, you can always get it sooner yourself.”

4: Same scene, except now their two PDAs are shaking hands as if coming to a truce. Child says, “I can wait.” Adult replies, “Okay.”]

#pda autism #pda /#pda profile #pathological demand avoidance #pervasive drive for autonomy #autistic #actually autistic #pda parenting #autistic funny

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alwaysonthemend · 1 year ago

Text

Part III: Three Sheets to the Wind

Word Count: 4506

Warnings: Violence / talk of prostitution / vivid descriptions of death and injury / threat of sexual assault (sexual assault does not happen - if you would like more information before reading, please feel free to send me a message and I will be more than happy to explain further), / talk of unrequited love.

I think that is all but if I am missing something please tell me.

18+ only. Minors DNI

:¨·.·¨:☾☆༺ 𓆩⚔︎𓆪 ༻☆☽:¨·.·¨:

Voices wafting through the wooden panels of the door draws me back into consciousness. The rocking of the Starcatcher had lulled me to sleep in my exhausted state, but now the constant to and fro makes my stomach roil with nausea. I keep my eyes closed against the hot, acidic waves in my belly.

“Miss Y/n?”

It’s Daniel’s voice on the other side of the door and I sit up, doing my best to smooth over my hair as much as I can. It’s a lost cause.

“Yes?” I call, voice cracking with sleep.

“I have breakfast for you, miss.”

“Come in.”

Daniel’s broad frame comes into view as he opens the door, a tray of food balanced precariously in one hand. In the other he has clothes folded across his arm.

“The Captain sent these clothes for you.” He says kindly, placing the tray of food in the bed next to me and holding up the garments. The blouse he holds up is white, along with a pair of brown trousers that look to be my size.

Sitting up, I furrow my brows in confusion.

“These are women’s clothes. Where did the Captain get women’s clothes?”

Daniel only smiles tersely at me.

“Belonged to a friend.” He answers, laying the garments across the foot of the bed. “We’ll be hitting land soon and the Captain has requested that you stay on board for the duration of our visit.”

Rising to sit up fully, I appraise Daniel with a raised brow.

“I assume that is a demand and not a request?”

“Aye.” He nods once and begins making his way back to the door. “I’ll leave you to it, miss. Won’t be long before we’re ashore. We shouldn’t be staying long.”

“Thank you, Daniel.”

–

Breakfast had been nothing but strips of salted beef and grapes but I had scarfed it down quickly – finding myself still shockingly ravenous despite my earlier nausea and the food had done well to settle my stomach.

Daniel had not been lying when he said that we would be landing ashore quickly, as no sooner had he left the room, the whole ship had rocked and lurched as she was anchored to land. I’d listened intently to the sound of the men moving about on the deck above, their heavy boots pounding against the wood and making the whole room shake.

After I’d finished eating, I puttered about below deck for a while, trying my best to familiarise myself with the ship. Though, after noting that an hour had passed since last I’d heard movement, I quickly grew restless. Daniel had said that they wouldn’t be long on shore, but time was inching along slow as molasses.

Deciding that the Captain had no right to order me about like the rest of his crew, I changed into the clothes he’d provided for me and slipped up the stairs. I climbed back out onto the deck and squinted as the light of the sun hit my eyes. Judging by its positioning, it must be just an hour past midday.

–

As soon as my feet touched the ground, my senses were assaulted by a foul smell. It wasn’t overly pungent, but rather seemed to be leaching from the very ground itself – stale and unavoidable as I made my way across the dock.

The streets in front of me were crowded – bustling and busy as men in all sorts of dress made their ways to and fro. Some were dressed in Navy petticoats with feathered hats and leather shoes. Others were dressed in clothes hardly worthy of being called such – stained and ripped and hanging off their sinewy frames. The ramshackle buildings that lined the streets were all wooden, each looking as if it had been thrown together as an afterthought. Not a single structure looked as if it had been planned; only haphazardly thrown together at the last second. As I eyed the chaos in front of me, the name of this place struck me like a ton of stones.

This is Nassau.

Nassau. The place where Benjamin Hornigold had managed to establish a safe haven for pirates from all across the seas. I’d heard mutterings of it from fisherman back in Easthallow who had been unfortunate enough to cross paths with those seafarers who consider themselves a part of this God-forsaken pirate republic. Though a “republic” is a kind term for this place. No real official dealings took place here – only pissing contests between men like Hornigold who happened to have garnered enough prestige amongst these heathens to be able to call himself their leader. This island is no place for a woman – least of all on her own, but no sooner had the realisation of where I was hit me, a man was already approaching me with a determined stride.

He’s tall – broad shouldered and his long black hair lays matted across his shoulders. His skin is tan. So tan, in fact, that his skin looks more like leather. His clothes are not so tattered as some of the others that I had seen, but they were still a far cry from the Naval petticoats that others were wearing. I cannot help but to take a step backwards, ducking my head and shrinking away from his imposing figure.

“How much?” The man asks as he steps in close to me, his hot breath carrying with it a foul smell as he speaks.

“I beg your pardon?” His question took me off guard.

“I asked how much?” He repeats, tone already bleeding with impatience.

I stare at him for a moment, brain working overtime trying to figure out what he means. Though, as soon as I do, I wish that I hadn’t. As I glance around, I see no women populating the busy streets. No doubt, the only women who come to a place like this only come for one reason: money. Money gotten by selling their bodies – a last ditch effort to keep themselves alive and fed in the only way that they can. And this man thinks that I am one of them.

Deciding that there is no way that this man will believe me if I tell him that I am here on business (though not of my own), I instead just shake my head at him.

“I’m.. I’m not working at the moment, sir.” I manage to stutter out, taking yet another step away from him.

“Not working?” His thick eyebrows raise and disbelief and I worry for a moment that he’s going to become angry. Instead, he merely shrugs his broad shoulders before shuffling away in the opposite direction.

I release a breath, my own shoulders untensing as he takes his leave and relief floods through me. That could have gone south quickly and there would have been nothing I could have done to stop it.

Brushing my sweaty palms across my thighs, I scan the bustling streets in search of a familiar face. Daniel, preferably, but anyone would do at this point. Seeing no one that I know, my eyes land upon a tavern across the road. I scan my eyes side to side one last time before darting across the road, doing my best to avoid the puddles of water and mud.

–

The tavern is dimly lit – the windows completely covered by the shutters. I scan the crowd, taking note of each man inside. There are a few slumped over at the bar, eyes half-lidded and chins glistening with rum. Some sit tucked away in shaded corners, hunched over the tables and whispering amongst themselves.

The room reeks of alcohol and sweat and the back of my neck prickles with unease. Coming here was definitely not one of the wiser choices that I have made.

Though truthfully, I cannot help the awe that fills me – a bit reminiscent of child-like wonder at the sight of Nassau. Growing up. I had heard from countless sailors about the dreaded pirate republic tucked away in the Bahamas and always the idea had intrigued me. A place where men do as they please – free to go and do as they wish. A place where even freed slaves might find a place as part of a pirate crew. And here I am, seeing it for with my own eyes. If only my younger self could have known.

Scanning the crowd, I still find no faces that I recognize and figure that I should most likely take my leave of this place before things go awry. But, as if the universe can read my thoughts and is intent on making things more difficult, just as I turn to leave a man locks eyes with me. He’s incredibly tall, with long black hair and a thick beard on his face. He stands as he spots me, taking large strides in my direction and the thud of his boots on the floor are like a countdown to my own doom.

Sensing his intentions, I dart back out the door, rounding the corner blindly in an effort to lose him. It’s a cramped alley, smelling of shit and rotten food. I press myself against the wall, praying that the man will not follow.

My prayers are not answered as he rounds the corner as well, his eyes locking onto me almost immediately.

Dear God, his eyes. Dark, wild looking. They practically glitter as they rake up and down my form.

I swallow around the lump in my throat, my hands beginning to shake slightly.

“This be no place for a girl like you t'be alone.” He mutters, stepping closer and using his body to block me from going anywhere. Behind me there is nothing but a cobblestone wall – too high for me to climb. He’s got me caged.

“I- I’m here with someone.” I tell him, mustering up as much courage as I can to meet his gaze.

He glances around, comically searching for a moment before glaring back at me.

“Don’t see any'ne but us, lass.”

“He’s a captain.” I manage to say meekly as he begins to step even closer. There is some hopeless little part of me that thinks maybe he’ll leave me alone knowing that I am here with a captain of a ship.

He doesn’t stop until he’s standing just a foot away from me. His smell is rank – body odour and rum. It makes me want to hold my breath.

“I am too.” He says, tilting his head and grinning lewdly. “I don’t see him nowhere near, though. Jus' you an' me, it would seem.”

He leans his head downwards and I turn my head to the side, closing my eyes and pressing myself into the wall as much as I can. His lips hover just above the skin of my cheek.

“What say we pass the time a bit… until your Captain comes back?” He murmurs, his rough hand coming up to grip my arm tightly.

I try to yank free but he’s far too strong for me to overpower. I feel helpless – like a caged animal. He is large – far larger than me. And the cutlass on his hip means that I truly cannot hope to fight him off.

“Please let me go.” I plead, heart thumping madly in my chest. I know how this ends.

“Make me.” His other hand comes up and grips my jaw, forcing me to face him. His eyes dart down to my lips and my stomach roils.

“Help!” I scream and immediately his calloused hand presses over my mouth, muffling any sound.

“Shut it.” He says through clenched teeth, pressing his body into mine. I can feel him – hard and hot against my stomach and I whimper past the hand over my mouth.

“She said stop.”

Both of our heads whip to the side to see Jacob, his dark eyes glaring menacingly at the man in front of me. He’s got his hand on the handle of his cutlass, ready to draw it at any moment.

“Is this your Captain, lass?” The man mocks, looking Jacob up and down.

This man is far larger than Jacob – taller and broader. As thankful as I am for him coming to my rescue, I fear that he is outmatched. This man is nearly twice his size.

“I am.” He nods, before pointing at me. “And she’s mine. So I ask you to please step away from her. I don’t want to hurt you.” Jacob says, voice eerily calm. His face is passive – no emotions.

The man laughs loudly, tossing his head back as he does so. He steps away from me and shoves, sending me crashing to the ground gracelessly.

“I’d like to see you try, boy.” He says, drawing his own cutlass and pointing it at Jacob.

Jacob doesn’t move – his hand still lays still on the handle of his cutlass. He doesn’t draw. Instead, he waits. Dark eyes watching like a lion watching its prey. I can do nothing but sit there as the man walks towards him, slowly closing the distance between Jacob and his sharp blade.

I wait with baited breath – desperately wishing that I could do something but seeing nothing near that I can arm myself with.

With a gruff cry, the man lunges – his blade cutting through the air with wicked speed and I watch in horror thinking that it will slice through Jacob.

Instead, Jacob only side steps, just barely avoiding the blow and moving his body to the side. The man – having thrown his entire body into the cut, stumbles forward and loses his balance. In the blink of an eye, Jacob’s cutlass is drawn and the sharp blade presses into the man’s neck. He freezes, half kneeling on the ground and glaring up at the Captain.

“Are you hurt?" Jacob asks, his gaze softening ever so slightly as he glances at me.

I stand with a wince and shake my head 'no' as I make my way slowly to Jacob’s side. His eyes sweep up and down my body, looking for injuries. When he finds none, he jerks his head towards the road.

Understanding his silent command, I step past the two of them – keeping my eyes trained on the man, and move past them out of the alleyway.

Jacob moves to follow me, keeping his blade pointed at the pirate on the ground.

“Don’t touch what isn't yours.” He says darkly, before turning his back and lowering his blade.

Though I know he’s only making a point and that he is by no means calling me his, heat still rises to my face. Though out of necessity, he’d defended me; saved me from what would have been a horrific and vile experience. All at the risk of himself. I cannot help but to feel a warmth in my belly.

I turn to Jacob, intent on giving him my thanks but instead I gasp as I see the man lunge forward.

“Jacob!” I call, but it’s too late.

His blade slices through Jacob’s forearm causing his cutlass to clatter to the ground. Jacob groans and his other hand grabs the wound, red seeping through his fingers in a worrying gush. He stumbles backwards and the pirate lunges– shoving him with all his might. Jacob grabs him by the lapels and pulls, effectively bringing both men crashing to the grown. The breath leaves Jacob’s lungs in a huff as the man falls on top of him, but still he immediately begins to grapple with him for his blade.

On sheer impulse and adrenaline alone, I stoop downwards and wrap my hands around the handle of Jacob’s cutlass. With a cry of my own, I shove the man off Jacob and he falls to the side with a growl. I point the blade down at him but my will falters.

Jacob is up and off the ground in a flash and rips the cutlass from my grip and plunges the blade into the man’s stomach before he has a chance to take advantage of my hesitation. He cries out, a sick, wet sound coming from between his lips. Blood spills down his chin and he collapses backwards as Jacob pulls the blade out. He seems to struggle for a moment, a grotesque rattling sound coming from his chest before he stills, one last exhale coming from his nose as the life leaves him.

I stand there, the adrenaline finally leaving and in its place, ice cold dread. Jacob is breathing heavily as he wipes his blade on his coat before sheathing it again.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He demands, whirling around to face me, his face twisted in anger. “I told you to stay on the fucking ship!”

I can make no argument. He is right. He told me to stay and I had disobeyed, and now a man lays dead at our feet. A horrible one, surely. But still a needless battle with bloodshed that could have been avoidable.

“I am sorry.” I whisper, eyes flooding with tears that I refuse to let fall.

“You should be.” He grabs my arm, fingers digging into the place where the man had done the same just moments before and a wince slips past my lips. Jacob’s grip softens, and his eyes flash with something before the mask falls back in place. “The men are already back on the ship. We got back and I found you to be gone.”

I nod, feeling shame wash over me. If I had just waited for a while longer, none of this would have happened.

–

The trek back to the Starcatcher had been completely silent. Not a word was spoken as we boarded, nor even when all the eyes of his crewmates swept to us as we came onto the deck. Their eyes were filled with countless questions – especially Joshua’s as his eyes finally landed on Jacob’s bloodied arm.

“What the fuck happened?” He demands, eyes turning to me with an accusatory blaze.

I expect Jacob to tell them everything of my foolishness – to make a mockery of me for defying orders. Instead, he only shakes his head and waves a dismissive hand in Joshua’s direction.

“All is settled now.” He says placatingingly, tucking his injured arm behind his back. “But we should leave.” His voice pitches lower, turning just a tad more serious. “Quickly.”

His men had taken the hint, and the ship is quickly put into motion.

Guiltily, I turn to the Captain, my eyes cast downwards to his feet. I cannot bear to meet his eyes.

“May I help?” I ask him quietly, aching at the knowledge that he'd gotten hurt in defense of me.

His eyes sweep to mine questioningly.

“Your wound.” I clarify, nodding my head to the arm he holds behind his back. “Please.”

–

By some miracle, he relents and follows me back down to his quarters. He sits before me at the foot of his bed, shoulders weary and eyes tired

It’s silent between us as I make my way to the lantern and light it – casting the room in a warm glow. He watches me as I grab my pack and pull from it a linen blouse that I had grabbed the night we left.

I rip the fabric, causing Jacob’s eyes to widen subtly as I tear a long strip.

“Do you have any alcohol in here?” I ask him, wadding up the rest of the shirt in my hand.

“Under the bed.”

I stoop downwards and sure enough, a bottle of rum sits waiting. I grab it and make my way over to him, crouching down on my knees at his feet. He’s got his left hand clutched over his right, his knuckles white. His face does not show it, but the wound must be hurting him.

“Here.” I gently pry his fingers away and dip a corner of the ripped shirt into the rum.

The cut is not too deep - but it is long. It runs from the crook of his elbow all the way down to his wrist. Blood oozes from it lazily and there is no doubt in my mind that most people would be crying out from the pain.

I press the rum-soaked fabric to the wound and he hisses through his teeth, yet still says not a word. His body is tense, rigid as stone. He’s shed his coat and belt, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black pants and a white shirt. His sleeves - one of them stained red, are rolled up. He looks so much less imposing without his coat and cutlass and it feels almost sinful to see him so… exposed.

As I carefully clean the wound, I cannot help but to let my eyes roam the exposed skin. His forearms are thick, riddled with old scars and his skin is tanned and weathered. His hands, rough with callouses, lay limply on his knees. The veins on them stand out clearly - a testament to the strength of them. It takes everything in me not to stare.

He hisses again as I pull the now red cloth away from him.

“Captain,” I say softly.

He glances downwards at me, lips pressed together. I cannot read his face.

“I am sorry. For disobeying your orders.” My eyes fall, unable to meet his piercing stare. “And for causing your injury.”

He is silent, and I think at first that he is not going to answer. But finally, his voice – soft in a way that I have not heard before, breaks the silence.

“All is forgiven.”

My eyes snap to his, shocked at his tone. I had been expecting further reprimand. Perhaps even to be yelled at again. But instead, his voice remains quiet and smooth. Though he does not look at me as he continues to speak, I sense no anger in his words.

“I am upset with you for disobeying. I told you to stay here for your safety." He begins, brown eyes swirling with what I can only describe as worry. He had been worried for me. The thought is somehow comforting. "But you are not the cause of my injury. That man was.”

I only nod as I grab the strip of linen that I had ripped from my blouse and wrap it tightly around his forearm. I am grateful for his words, yet still... shame courses through me.

“Y/n.” He says, drawing my focus back to him. It is the first time that I have heard him say my name in such a manner. I think that I could listen to him utter it for eternity. “What that man did… what he tried to do, that is not your fault. Yes, you chose to leave the ship. But it was him who attempted to do something so vile. That is no fault of yours.”

His words ease the black ball of guilt and shame that had lodged itself in my sternum, melting it away to nothing but gratitude. His kindness – rare as it may be, makes my heart race and my cheeks warm.

“Thank you, Captain.” I murmur, tying a knot in the fabric. “I’m afraid that this is the best that I can do.” I tell him, rising from my knees to put the bottle of rum back in its hiding place beneath the bed.

Jacob rises too, flexing his hand and testing the bandage.

“It is far more than I am usually afforded.” He says, lips tilting upwards at the corners in a barely-there smile.

I wish suddenly that I could see a real smile on his face… one that reaches his eyes. I imagine it must be a beautiful thing. And as much as I want to push the thought away, this new, kinder side of him makes it impossible. So I covet the feeling, burying it away deep in my heart and storing it there to dissect later.

“Thank you for saving me. And thank you for letting me sleep here.” I nod my head towards his bed. “If ever you would rather me sleep somewhere else, just ask. Your hospitality is appreciated, though unnecessary. It is your bed, after all.”

“I don’t mind.” He says, watching me as I stand before him. “I prefer not to sleep in here, anyway.”

“Why?” The question slips past me before I can think better of it and I tense, expecting his walls to go back up as they always seem to do when I ask questions.

Instead of growing angry, he only shakes his head.

“A story for another day.”

I nod, letting silence fall. As I turn my head away from him, my eyes land on the painting on his desk. They must linger there for a moment too long, as when I look back at him, his face has fallen slightly. Instead of anger, there lies only weariness.

“I know that I have not told you anything. And please know that I am thankful for you agreeing to help me as you have.” He starts, his own eyes downcast. “But there are some things that I would just rather not speak about. Not just to you, but to anyone.”

“I understand.” I tell him, and I am shocked to find myself truthful. As much as I ache to know the meaning behind his quest, as much as the secrets had angered me at first, I sense now that this is not something that he is yet capable of talking about. Perhaps in time it may change. But for now, I must be content in knowing nothing.

“Thank you.” He says, bowing his head once before turning to leave. “Dinner will be sent down to you soon.”

He steps through the threshold and then stops and I wait with bated breath. Without turning back to face me, his head turned down to the floor, he speaks ever-so quietly.

“She is my wife. And I am trying to bring her home.”

With that, he’s gone.

I collapse numbly to the bed, my thoughts running rampant with possibilities. I look back to the painting, the woman’s dark eyes staring back into my own.

His wife.

There is no doubt in my mind now that whatever this quest may be… it means far more to him than I could ever understand. The sadness that he carries, the anger that is always there – just barely simmering below the surface, suddenly makes sense.

He is hurting. Suffering. He lashes out like a wounded animal.

And somehow my fate has been entwined with his to help him find this woman again – wherever she may be. Whoever she may be.

As I sit, the feeling that has been brewing deep within me since the moment I met him finally comes to the surface. It is not love – not yet. But I know myself well enough to feel certain that it will become it.

There is something about him… an aura that surrounds him that seeks to pull me in. And as much as I hate the feeling, as much as I hate myself for falling for a man like him (and under such circumstances), I know in my heart that I will stop at nothing to help him find this woman whom he loves.

It’s a scary thing – to care for someone enough to aid them in their search for happiness that does not live with you. It aches in the way old wounds do – a dull throb that is almost constant. But I cannot stop myself. I will help him find her. Whatever the cost.

There is a knock on the door. Dinner, surely. But I do not rise to get it. I am not hungry. Instead, I lie down on top of the covers, feeling as though I have suddenly aged one hundred years. My eyes catch the painting – her dark eyes seemingly staring into my very soul. I roll over.

:¨·.·¨:☾☆༺ 𓆩⚔︎𓆪 ༻☆☽:¨·.·¨

Part IV

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vilentia · 3 days ago

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Falling Together (Part One)

Steve Rogers x reader

Y/N Y/L/N stood at the foot of the Avengers Compound, her fingers clutching the strap of her satchel as she tilted her head back to take in the sight of it. The building was enormous, sleek, and modern, its glass façade gleaming under the late morning sun. Somewhere inside that fortress of technology and heroics was Tony Stark—her new boss, self-proclaimed genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist. The compound was tucked away in upstate New York, surrounded by rolling green hills and dense forest. It looked nothing like the offices and lecture halls she had grown used to in Boston. A light wind ruffled her hair as she took a deep breath, trying to steady the slight tremor in her hands. It wasn’t every day you started a job working for the most famous team of superheroes in the world. Inside, the compound was even more impressive. The sleek design extended into the cavernous lobby, where polished floors reflected the sunlight streaming in through floor-to-ceiling windows. The hum of unseen machinery vibrated faintly beneath her feet, and the air was cool and faintly metallic, like stepping into the future. “Miss Y/L/N?”

Y/N turned to see a man in a neatly pressed suit approaching. He had the air of someone who could command a room without raising his voice. “I’m Happy Hogan,” he said, extending a hand. “Tony asked me to show you around. Welcome to the Compound.” “Thank you,” Y/N said, shaking his hand firmly. She didn’t want to seem nervous, even though her stomach was twisting itself into knots. Happy led her through a maze of corridors, each more futuristic than the last. Glass panels in the walls occasionally revealed glimpses of labs filled with glowing equipment, rows of computers, and the occasional blur of someone in a lab coat rushing by. “You’ll be working directly with Mr. Stark,” Happy explained as they walked. “He’s…unique, let’s put it that way. Keeps things exciting.” Y/N smiled, trying to hide her apprehension. “I’ll do my best to keep up.” Happy grinned. “Good luck with that.” The tour ended in an expansive common area that felt more like a high-end lounge than the headquarters of Earth’s mightiest heroes. Plush sofas were arranged around a massive screen on one wall, and a sleek kitchen with gleaming appliances occupied one corner. A balcony overlooked the sprawling grounds outside. Y/N’s eyes swept the room, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. Steve Rogers was sitting at the far end of the room, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he read from a tablet. Even seated, he exuded a quiet strength that was impossible to ignore. He looked up as they entered, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers for a brief moment. Happy waved a hand in Steve’s direction. “That’s Captain America. He’s usually around if you need anything. Good guy, but don’t expect him to loosen up too much.” Y/N nodded, forcing herself to look away. She’d seen photos of him, of course—who hadn’t? But in person, he seemed larger than life. There was something about the way he carried himself, as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, and yet he bore it without complaint. “Welcome,” Steve said, his voice calm and steady. “Thank you,” Y/N managed, her voice betraying none of the butterflies in her stomach. Happy clapped his hands together. “All right, let’s get you settled in. Stark’s expecting you in the lab.”

Tony Stark turned out to be exactly as chaotic as Y/N had expected, though in a way that was almost endearing. He talked a mile a minute, his hands constantly in motion as he rattled off instructions, ideas, and the occasional sarcastic comment. “You’re my buffer now,” he said, pointing a finger at her. “When Fury calls, you answer. When Bruce needs a break, you tell him. And if Rogers starts complaining about outdated tech again, you let me know so I can conveniently disappear.” Y/N’s lips twitched into a smile. “Got it.” “And don’t let anyone fool you—this place looks like it runs smoothly, but it’s held together with duct tape and sheer willpower. You’re here to make sure it doesn’t all fall apart. No pressure.” “No pressure,” she repeated, hiding her nerves behind a confident smile. As the days turned into weeks, Y/N threw herself into her work with the determination that had earned her the job in the first place. She quickly became indispensable, organizing schedules, mediating conflicts, and learning to anticipate Tony’s needs before he voiced them. It wasn’t long before the other Avengers started to notice her, too. Natasha Romanoff was the first to comment on how smoothly things were running, while Bruce Banner quietly expressed his gratitude for the snacks Y/N kept stocked in the lab. Even Sam Wilson, ever the jokester, admitted she was a “solid addition to the team.” But it was Steve Rogers who intrigued her the most.

Y/N’s first real conversation with Steve happened by chance. She was in the kitchen late one evening, reheating leftovers after a long day. The compound was quiet, the usual hum of activity replaced by a peaceful stillness. She was startled when Steve walked in, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, a towel slung over his shoulder. His hair was damp, and he looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. “Sorry,” he said, pausing when he saw her. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.” “You’re not,” she said quickly, stepping aside to make room. “Just grabbing a late dinner.” He nodded and moved to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. For a moment, the only sound was the hum of the microwave. “You’re Stark’s new assistant, right?” Steve asked, breaking the silence. “That’s me,” Y/N said, turning to face him. “Y/N Y/L/N.” “Steve Rogers,” he said, offering a small smile. “I know,” she replied, her own smile soft but genuine. “Hard not to.” Steve chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Fair enough. How are you settling in?” “It’s…a lot,” she admitted. “But I like it. Everyone’s been welcoming.” “That’s good to hear,” he said. “This place can be overwhelming at first, but it grows on you.” The microwave beeped, and Y/N retrieved her plate, feeling slightly self-conscious under his steady gaze. “Well, I should let you eat,” Steve said, stepping back toward the door. “You don’t have to go,” she said before she could stop herself. “I mean, if you’re hungry or something…” Steve hesitated, then nodded. “Thanks.” He grabbed an apple from the counter and joined her at the small table. They talked for over an hour, their conversation flowing easily despite the late hour. Y/N found herself laughing at his dry humor and sharing more about herself than she’d intended. Steve, for his part, was struck by how grounded she seemed. She wasn’t awed by his reputation or trying to impress him. She was just…herself. When they finally parted ways, Steve found himself smiling as he headed back to his room. There was something about Y/N Y/L/N that he couldn’t quite put into words.

to be continued...

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