#but then it's showing us that that's okay and it's Good navigating that rather than everything shown abt the harms of what it would take
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arrrghhh and having a moment just now b/c earlier i was rewatching this clip and appreciating how ofc not only is it a stellar little expression saga of jeremy's there but it's so Relevant to how we're being shown like [yeah clearly this is a bad idea but we are led to understand why he'd do it anyways] when like yeah jeremy's hurt & miserable as this new computer enemy immediately beating him up insulting him like you're the worst die Admit You're The Worst & Die. but also like jeremy was already There & already getting that message from others / life, which is why he's in this situation already, and why even though this obvious antagonism & hurtful treatment Does dig that hole a little deeper it's like, still more of the same from jeremy's perspective / a supposed further confirmation of what he was already sufficiently believing was true anyways. but what's so different & new to him is this like invented & temporary Vision Of How Things Could Be where suddenly he's getting attention that is so positive & everyone is sooo hyped about him we love everything about you....and That's what's so much more motivating to jeremy than the previous shit that he of course experienced as Unpleasant
and then just now was looking at this gifset again with christine being surprised by how as she's increasingly exiting the defensive mode of trying to stay out of the way / rein herself in, jeremy's just interested and encouraging and giving Thee clearest most positive feedback as earnestly and spontaneously as she's being rn....the way that she's having a parallel experience to jeremy's Mall Visions Of Possibility like here's this random person suddenly who is responding so positively to whatever tends to be reacted to negatively as [weird/wrong/overmuch]....their earnest spontaneous little parallel threads that keep weaving together throughout the story like. christine and this ever surprising new person who first crops up super nervous but then really openly enthused about Her enthusiasm; freaking out at a mall food court; doing great at play rehearsal even though he's new to this; then a whole moment where at first he's maybe being confusingly standoffish compared to that enthusiasm at their first meeting but then the whole [i guess a part of me xyz] section of a guy that i'd kinda be into like waaaaauugh oh lord and now i'm thinking of the agtikbi reprise like i am sweeping the bmc obcr up into my arms for so many reasons & including that track is a hell of one....being presumably a bit further bemused by jeremy's whole deal but during this period where christine's presumably a bit preoccupied w/the play and with trying to try new things and dating jake, there goes jeremy suddenly dating brooke apparently & eventually evidently christine is like okay i guess he's in this popular kids group more cohesively than i am & [whatever interpretations in how christine thinks that jeremy is also hooking up far & wide w/ppl in that group lol] but here he is also feeling in over his head & overwhelmed & out of place after trying to play the part & Act Correctly & indeed managing to end up here & yet....And Yet they can have another earnest vulnerable spontenaous enthused encouraging moment on the couch, despite that then of course christine's like okay look in general What is going on around here, and that's even before anyone's burned down a house & so forth, all before we he she they get Proof of what jeremy wants & feels & chooses, and have that reunion finally with finale jeremy where it's like, yeah he's got more confidence in Himself, ofc he still likes her and her as herself, and he's still nervous but okay with that, she's more comfortable likewise being out of her comfort zone lol not trying to maximally stay either in the one arena she can be herself Or otherwise out of everyone's way, ugh their vimh moment like that willingness to be vulnerable with this person b/c as in any interactions you're not guaranteed "safe" but the stakes of that and effort of navigating are made lower by having this trust and understanding and knowing this person genuinely cares....the fact that they can misunderstand each other And That's Fine because they can and do just go "no, i mean xyz" which in turn isn't to chastise but an earnest effort to connect & let this other person understand & know you better & believing that They want to exert the effort to Try To Get It, to Genuinely Care....waah
tl;dr that the way jeremy is (theoretically) looked at in the mall while simply existing when everything is going to be wonderful and so alive & is so moved by is the way christine experiences jeremy looking at her For Real when they're first properly meeting in the i love play rehearsal scene, and furthermore: ;ww;
#bmc#btw everything antithetical to that concept like [in this dynamic at its resolution in the end we see them misunderstand & get it Wrong#but then it's showing us that that's okay and it's Good navigating that rather than everything shown abt the harms of what it would take#to hypothetically paper over that or eliminate it entirely; namely the doomed destructive mission to keep tamping down on ppl being ppl]#has been found dead in miami. get ''we know our relationship's so good b/c of how we don't have 2 interact ft. Effort from us'' outta here#can extend the parallel where like obviously michael & jeremy have a mutual enthusiasm / effort in their relationship; less Novel ofc#hardly a negative lol & then that of course there's the entire period of Separation so there's hype for Glimpses b/w them over that lol#how what gym girl you look grim pensive emoji
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Drag Me to Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader) pt. 3
Warnings; spoilers for episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel, yandere relationship, yandere temper, yandere behavior, toxic relationship, Alastor is not fond of disobedience, don't make deals with demons,
~~~~~~~~
"Good talk, chum!"
Alastor hummed as he moved towards the shadows, leaving behind a shaking and terrified Husker. There were many words that could be used to describe Alastor and none were more fitting than terrifying.
None knew this better than you.
"Husker," you started, emerging from where you had been waiting down the hall, "are you okay?"
The hellcat tried to pull himself together quickly and brush you off, but his shaking betrayed how truly afraid he was. When Alastor wanted to put terror into others, he didn't need to work very hard to accomplish his goal.
"Why the Hell d'you care? You're his fuckin' favorite, the fuck you know about it?"
You knew he was lashing out to protect himself, but the words almost managed to make you flinch. Luckily for the both of you, you didn't and you kept a level head. If he had seen... Still, you wanted to try and comfort the fellow lost soul ensnared by your eternal captor.
"Husker, listen to me."
Something about your firm tone made the demon pause, an almost confused and unsettled expression on his face. It was rare that you became so serious and pleading with anyone, let alone tried to actually talk to anyone for extended periods of time. Something about your tone made him want to take whatever you were going to say seriously.
"You may think you know the limits of his patience but you don't. I know them. I have seen more than you know and have been by his side for longer than you may expect. I can never share these things. I can never tell anyone what I have heard and seen. Those memories are not my secrets to share. But I can tell you some of the terms of my contact, and I hope you understand and take heed."
You were choosing your words carefully, knowing that you could only say so much before the fine-print of your contract with Alastor silenced you. Parroting one of the key lines of your contract even as you navigated your way through the red-tape and fine print. Alastor made sure to create a rather finely crafted contract to outline your deal with him and you had plenty of time to read over it again and again.
"Expected and Required are the same thing. I am expected to remain by Alastor's side until he doesn't want me to be. I am expected to do what is asked of me by Alastor and no one else. I am expected to keep what I see and hear a secret unless Alastor wishes for me to speak on the matter. I am expected to remember the primary terms of every contract I have seen. And I have to say, Husker, I know better than anyone what chains can bind some overlords."
Husker seemed confused for a moment before his eyes flashed with recognition before shifting to curiosity. You could only hope that he gathered the information you wanted to give him without having directly said it.
"You were there for my deal, weren't you?"
"I cannot say. Those are not my secrets to share."
"But where were you? I thought it was just me an' him. Unless... Hells, you're his microphone, aren't you?"
"I am expected to be by his side until he doesn't want me to be."
"You've been around long enough to see my deal, you must have seen so many other deals too. Why do you stay with him? Ain't there any kind of freedom to your deal?"
"My deal was made to keep me safe from other demons. It... Evolved into what it is now. I stay safe and in return I do as my deal says, no questions. That is what I agreed to. Look, Husker, all I am saying is your leash could be tighter, your chains could be heavier, and you could have far less freedoms than you have now. Don't squander it over someone like Mimzy."
"I just know she is bad news! But he won't listen."
"I know she is bad news too and I admit, I hate her. Every time she shows up she uses him and thinks she has some kind of control over him because he lets her get away with this nonsense."
You sighed and tried to smile at Husker, feeling the wry and strained grin become more of a grimace. It was true that you strongly disliked the woman that only appeared when she needed help and you knew she didn't like you either. Mimzy had obvious feelings for Alastor and she hated the fact that you were close to him when she so desperately wanted to be in your place.
"Husker, I can't say I like you- he doesn't like competition of any kind- but I don't want you killed or hurt. You are a better person than you claim to be and we both know it. Just know that though he doesn't like your tone, he does hear you and your concerns."
"Listen, (y/n), maybe if we talk to Charlie about your deal, she can-"
You sharply stood from where you had been kneeling by his side, already knowing where the conversation was going and not wanting either of you to get hurt by the blowback. If Husker finished his sentence, odds are Alastor would not hesitate to rip his soul to shreds for daring to try and break the deal you had. There was no way you were going to let such a thing happen and that meant you had to make it clear to Husker as well.
"No. I am happy with my deal. I would never say anything to the contrary or try to get out of my deal with Alastor. Besides, I have seen too much and know too much for him to ever let me go peacefully. That level of blood and retribution is far too high a price. Don't suggest it again, Husker, or we will both be in trouble for it. Please, just trust me to-"
The way your voice died in your throat with a slight choke let the demon know you said as much as you could. Though there was more you wished to say, you could feel your own leash tighten in a clear warning and you knew then he had been listening. Odds are, Alastor had been listening to the whole thing and he was not pleased with your attempts to get around his gag order. It was also clear to you that Alastor was likely testing you by letting Husker get as far as he did in his questioning.
A chill ran down your back and you saw your fellow demon's eyes widen as he stared behind you. The clawed hand of the Radio Demon rest on your shoulder, his head leaning over so you could barely see his threatening grin in your peripheral view. You could feel his shadows crawling over your skin and around you as he casually asserted control over both you and Husker.
"Now, now. Whatever could you two possibly be discussing? It wouldn't happen to be about the rules you know you can't discuss, right?"
"Of course not, Alastor. We both know that they aren't my secrets to share even if I wanted to, which I don't. I am simply informing him from one damned soul to another that trying to rile you is a bad idea."
A soft growl could be heard from Alastor and you could feel the slight brush of his antlers against your head as his annoyance grew. As far as you knew, you hadn't said anything to upset him and you had not breached the terms of your contract. But the way his hand tightened on your shoulder told you Alastor was unhappy about something and you were terrified what that would mean for Husker.
"I have told you what to call me many times now, (y/n). I do not appreciate your continued failure to heed my instruction."
It then dawned on you why Alastor was irritated and in some ways it was ridiculous to you. He was upset because you called him Alastor and not a pet name as he had requested. Honestly, you had forgotten entirely about something so trivial, but you also knew Alastor was a stickler for details.
"Dear, I feel there is a time and place for terms of endearment and they have no place in serious discussion."
"That is for me to decide and you to obey. Do not presume such things again, Sugar. Now, what is this about you hating Mimzy?"
"She is only here to try and use you, we all know that. I don't like her casual attempts at controlling you and I know she dislikes me as well."
"I don't care what she thinks of you, it is not her decision if I keep you with me or not. Now, I would hope you know better than to question me, because I doubt you want to spend another half a decade locked away again. Do I make myself clear, Honey?"
"... Yes, Darling."
Alastor was quick to disappear once more into shadow, leaving both you and Husker to stare at one another in silence. You both knew he likely didn't go far and that he was always watching whatever it was you chose to do. With this constant observation in mind, you did your best to keep your actions to a minimum and to keep any backlash from hurting Husker.
"We both know what our place is. It would be best that we don't question it. I'm truly sorry for the pain you feel, Husker, but we made our choices. Be happy your choice gives you some kind of freedom."
#kiame-sama#yandere#x reader#yandere x reader#reader insert#tw yandere#yandere alastor#yandere hazbin hotel
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clumsy girl
summary: matt’s girlfriend is rather clumsy.
warnings: cursing, use of y/n, kisses kinda, jokes about death, idk what else. lowercase intentional
an: i kinda don’t like this one guys. BUT this won the vote so ask and you shall receive.
an2: i do have some requests guys and im very sorry that i haven’t gotten to them, its just hard for me to get motivated unless i have a really good idea for a fic and can play it out in my head. but i will be working on requests i promise.
|navigation|
you and matt are sat on the couch together, aimlessly scrolling through your phones. matt leans his head on your shoulder before giggling slightly, sitting upright next to you.
“look at this video, isn’t this funny?” matt moves his phone in front of you, scrolling to restart the video.
you watch as different clips cut across the screen, laughing lightly to yourself. the video had been a compilation of matt saving you from falling, hitting your head, hurting yourself, etc.
“you’re so clumsy, huh? always need me to save you” matt smirks at your annoyed expression.
“i am not that clumsy, matthew, you’ve probably tripped and fallen more times than me” you roll your eyes as you sit back against your teasing boyfriend.
“well.. what about that one time at dinner, or the time you almost tripped up the stairs?”
matt went on and on about the different times he was your ‘knight in shining armor.’
two months ago
“okay guys now we’re going to be decorating the cupcakes and our lovely mother is going to be trying them and rating them 1-10” you listened patiently as nick loudly addressed the camera, informing the viewers of our next step.
“oh shit” your tube of icing dropped onto the floor right as the clip began rolling. you quickly bend to the side to grab the tube as matt reached his hand to cover the corner of the table, protecting your head from bashing into it. sitting up, you thank matt for his help before continuing to decorate your cupcake.
currently
“oh my god, i actually do remember that. people were making edits for weeks” the two of you laughed at the fond memory, before matt began to speak again.
“do you remember the time you almost fell down the stairs during our house tour?”
“oh please don’t remind me” groaning at the embarrassing image in your head.
several months earlier
“okay so now y/n is going to lead us upstairs to the room we share” matt followed behind you, talking to the camera as the vlog went on.
“oh fuck!” you grip onto the railing, feeling yourself slip on the wooden staircase.
“jesus y/n-” you feel matt’s hand on your back, steadying you on the stairs before he releases his grip, allowing you to continue up.
“you have got to be more careful, you could’ve killed us all” nick laughs from behind matt, dramatically grasping onto the rail.
“whatever, thanks matt” you smile at the boy, playfully rolling your eyes.
“okay guys so we made it upstairs, barely, now to show you where i sleep” matt faces the camera towards you as the four of you continue to vlog a tour of your shared living space.
currently
“jesus, that was embarrassing” you cover your face with your hands in attempt to hide your blush.
“no it wasn’t, you just don’t want the world to see that you’d die without me” matt pulls your hands from your face, playfully placing kisses around your forehead and cheeks.
“i guess i would die without you, huh?”
“a very painfully and stupid death, yes” the two of you laugh at the memories, enjoying the little amount of quality time you’re able to get.
| likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated|
| 🏷️ @strniolosworld @bananabread-nana @abbie13sworld @mxqdii |
ps i do not consent to my work being stolen, translated, or posted on any other website without my permission
#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#pls reblog#sturniolo edit#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagines#matthew sturniolo#christopher sturniolo x yn#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#give me a chance#chris sturniolo imagine#i need him#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo x reader#alice writes
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Can We have a Creepypasta Reader who gets hurt and how Creepypasta males & Female’s react please? Make sure to eat and drink some water (●’◡’●)ﾉ
🗒 ❛ Reader Gets Hurt ༉‧₊˚✧
Featuring: Jeff The Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Masky, Hoodie, Clockwork, Nina The Killer, Kate The Chaser, Jane The Killer
#Notes: this is the most people I've ever written for holy shit
pronouns used: they/them
˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jeff The Killer
One of the only moments he shows genuine concern about you, even if in his own twisted or weird way. Focuses more on finding out how you got hurt than trying to help, absolutely ready to murder someone in case they were the one to injure you. There's just an anger in his voice and expression that is difficult to shake off. Will bring you to EJ and tell him "You fucking better take good care of them," in a low and menacing voice. Calls you an idiot and tells you to be more careful after, and although he sounds mad, the way he ruffles your hair affectionately says different.
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ben Drowned
Honestly, thinks you're kidding at first and laughs at it. When he notices you're actually, genuinely hurt, he panics. He died a long time ago, so now he doesn't have a good understanding of what's fatal for a human and what isn't, so he might honest to god consider the fact you might die even if it's a minor scratch. Will try to patch up the wound, failing miserably and just bringing you to EJ instead. Probably hugs you after, more so to bring comfort to himself rather than to you. He just got scared for a second, okay?
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ticci Toby
He can't feel pain, so he doesn't have a good understanding of how much something might hurt. He just assumes the slightest of wounds must hurt like hell for normal people, so he's immediately freaking out, asking you if you're okay. He actually knows basic first aid, since it's one of the musts for being a proxy, but doesn't trust himself to not hurt you further by accident, so he's another one who'll rush you to EJ. Will be super clingy with you after, mumbling about how glad he is that you're okay.
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Eyeless Jack
As a previous med student, his first concern is making sure you're physically okay. Focusing on that helps him calm down his nerves, since he's honestly panicking a little. Will patch you up in complete silence, to the point where it's a bit awkward, only to whisper a low "What happened to you?" once he's done, almost like he's scared of the answer you might have. Hugs you gently after you explain, careful as to not touch the wound, letting out a relieved sigh.
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Masky
Similar to Jeff, his mind will immediately jump to the thought that someone deliberately hurt you, which makes his blood boil. Will be very loud and aggressive when asking what happened, making your breath hitch at the sudden protectiveness he doesn't normally show. Let's out a sigh once you explain it was an accident, calling you stupid before going to grab something so he can fix you up, his hands surprisingly gentle. It's a shockingly tender moment.
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Hoodie
Gets worried, but not as much as the others. He's not one to think the worst about a situation, so he just concludes you probably tripped and fell or something, so he doesn't really question you any further. It's up to you if you tell him what happened or not. He's always gentle when handling you, but now you find his touch almost ghost-like as he fixes you up, then asking if you feel any better or would like to see EJ for a better inspection. A forehead kiss after he's done in definitely in order.
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Clockwork
Doesn't even try to hide it, she's freaking out. Will grab your wound to take a closer look as she frantically asks "What happened? What did you do? Did someone do this? Does it hurt?", her mind is just racing and she doesn't know what to make of the situation. Terrible at patching you up, but does it anyway, she's not letting anyone else go near you when you're hurt and vulnerable. Kisses your cheek once she's done and tells you to be more careful.
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Nina The Killer
Her face is literally split open, I don't think she'd be too worried about some minor injury. Just kind of coos at you something along the lines of "Aww, baby got hurt?" and offers to kiss it better. You'll have to tell her if it genuinely hurts, or else she's not going to take it too seriously. Like most of the others, will take you to EJ if you're actually in pain, sitting besides you and stroking your back and hair gently the entire time.
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Kate The Chaser
Doesn't express much of a reaction, either. That doesn't mean she isn't concerned, she just can't express her emotions properly. Will calmly inspect the injury and, if it's out of her first aid abilities, will bring you to EJ. It's the most vocal anyone's ever seen her, asking him if it's too serious and if you're going to be okay. Holds your hand gently as he patches you up, caressing the back of your hand with her thumb.
꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jane The Killer
Behaves like a mom. Will coo at you lightly while going "Oh, your poor thing. Come here", taking a hold of your wound and gently cleaning and addressing it, to the point you can barely feel her touch on your skin. Once she's done, she kisses your forehead softly, her black lipstick leaving a mark on your skin.
#creepypasta#creepypasta headcanons#creepypasta x reader#jeff the killer x reader#ben drowned x reader#ticci toby x reader#masky x reader#hoodie x reader#clockwork x reader#kate the chaser x reader#nina the killer x reader#jane the killer x reader
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Love Thy Neighbor
saw a prompt from @givethispromptatry
So... here we are... as usual, not edited in the slightest and hoping it's alright!
WC: ~3.45k
After your (not so amicable) split from your dirtbag of a husband, you packed your things and moved back to Philly. It was the city that held a special place in your heart, you knew the area like the back of your hand, and your parents still resided in the place that you grew up. It only made sense now that as a single mother to a six year old girl, you would move to be closer to your parents so they could help bear the load of being a working mom. Elizabeth, but you usually stuck with the nickname Ellie, was a rather easy child. But moving from across the country and leaving the life that she knew and loved behind was rather hard for her- and it was even harder knowing that Mom and Dad had split, and that Dad didn’t necessarily want anything to do with either of you anymore.
So, after about a month of living with your parents, making trips from Utah to Philly and back multiple times to gather all of your things from the house, show the house, sell the house, and deal with the divorce lawyers… the two of you have finally found a little apartment that should be an appropriate size for the two of you while still staying within your budget.
You had been granted full custody, not that your ex would fight you on that, but you also managed to get him to fork over a decent amount of child support- and you would need it. You still haven’t found a job in Philly, and while little jobs here and there were helpful (you mostly did DoorDash on your bike, Ellie’s bike trailer attached so you could bring her along and hold the food), you knew that you absolutely needed to find a job- and quick.
In between attempting to unpack all of your things, get Ellie settled, looking for a new job, and Doordashing, you haven’t been able to take a breath at all. You don’t even know who your neighbors are or what they look like. And you feel a little guilty at that, but none of them have stopped by to introduce themselves to you either. You remember though, that Philly folks aren’t nearly as kind as the people that you had surrounded yourself with in Utah… so them not introducing themselves to you isn’t the most unheard of thing in the world.
Today was brutal. You had signed Ellie up to start school next week, searched and applied for a few teaching jobs (one of which would be at your daughter’s school if you could land it), gone grocery shopping, and then done a nice load of Doordashing with your daughter in tow because your parents couldn’t watch her.
The little girl had missed out on the nap that she usually takes after a day at school, so she’s absolutely miserable the entire time that you bike around. You had tried to placate her by bringing along her iPad so she could watch videos while you navigated the city, but she wanted nothing to do with it. All she did the entire time was whine about the fact that she wanted to go home and cuddle.
After hours of delivering food, you’re satisfied with the amount of money that you made today.
“Okay, little love,” you turn and look at your daughter. “Are you ready for home?”
“I’ve been ready,” she grumbles, arms crossed and brows furrowed.
You give her a soft smile. “I know, sweet girl… but Momma has to make money so we can stay here.”
“Why can’t we just stay in Utah where I like it?”
You bite your lip. “I want to be closer to my parents, baby… and this way you get to see Gram and Pop more than you used to. I think if you give Philly a chance, you’ll learn to love it like I do.”
She huffs a little.
Deciding that you probably aren’t going to get much more out of her, you turn and start biking in the direction of your apartment. As you’re doing so, you silently thank God that you’re in good shape. At least if anything comes out of this, your legs are going to look incredible.
You chain your bike to the bike stand in the garage of your apartment complex, only to remember that you had forgotten what you needed to make dinner tonight. With regret, you begin to unchain it- much to Ellie’s dismay.
“Momma!” she stomps her foot.
“I know,” you say softly, but you gesture for her to get back into her trailer.
“No!”
You take a shaky breath. You really don’t want to have to put up with a trademarked Ellie tantrum, but it seems that’s what is in store for you tonight. “Love bug, please. We just have to go to the store, and then we can come home, I’ll make dinner, and we can cuddle.”
“I want to cuddle now!”
“Well, we have to fill that belly of yours with food first,” you poke her stomach gently, trying to elicit a giggle out of the little girl.
It absolutely does the opposite of that. She bats your hand away, and you raise an eyebrow before standing back up straight. “Ellie, you know we do not try to hit.”
“I don’t care,” she tells you defiantly.
A redhead that lives in the building comes into the garage, eyeing you and your child. You hope she isn’t judging you for the fit your child is currently in the middle of having. She climbs into her car and rolls down her windows, but she doesn’t quite pull out yet. She glances at her phone instead.
You blow out a breath, eyes closed and trying to ground yourself, before looking at her again. “Elizabeth, we need to get food for dinner. All you have to do is sit in your trailer while I bike us to the store.”
“Why can’t I stay home?!”
“Because you are six and too little to stay home by yourself.”
“This isn’t home!” you daughter stomps her foot and bursts into tears.
The woman that lives in your complex is still sitting in her car, and you know she can hear your daughter’s and your words. Why hasn’t she pulled out yet?
You soften immediately, crouching back down and opening your arms for her to hug you if she needs to. She does. She immediately curls into your arms and clings to you. “I know, love bug. I know it doesn’t feel like home right now… but no matter what, Momma can’t leave you in the apartment alone. So, I need you to get into your trailer so we can head to the store. The faster we get there, the faster we can come back and curl up on the couch together, okay?”
Your daughter clings to you a little tighter, but you feel her nod into your shoulder.
The woman pulls out of her spot and gives you and your daughter a small wave as she drives past.
You hold your little girl until she begins to pull away, and then you wipe her tears with the pads of your thumbs. “I love you, Ellie.”
She climbs back into her seat before mumbling back the same sentiment.
You’re able to do your quick run to the grocery store, and Ellie refuses to walk but also refuses to sit in the cart like she usually does. So, you carry her on your hip the entirety of your walk through the aisles. As you’re strolling up and down, you see the redhead that you had seen in the garage earlier, and she gives you a questioning look at the sight of you carrying your daughter when she could be in the cart that you’re pushing along.
You just give her a little shrug and continue on your way. Ellie is getting heavier and heavier by the minute though, so you pick up the pace and are out of the store.
You make your way back to the complex, bags around your arms and in the trailer with your daughter. When you lock your bike to the rack, you look in, and the little girl is fast asleep. Shit.
“Ellie,” you crouch down and whisper. “Sweetheart, we’re back. You have to wake up and carry the bread and juice in for me.”
The little girl stirs slightly before repositioning herself and closing her eyes again.
“Baby girl,” you say softly. “Please wake up for Momma.”
You see headlights, and the car that has the redheaded woman in it pulls in. Great. You get to make a fool out of yourself in front of her yet again.
Not being able to hide your stress, you decide to grab a few of the lighter bags, put them on your arms, and then wiggle Ellie out of the trailer. She’s asleep on your shoulder as soon as she’s in your hold. You silently take a moment to pray that your produce won’t get stolen in the few minutes it will take you to get Ellie upstairs before making your way into the building.
The elevator is broken. Of course it is. So you’re forced to carry three bags of groceries and your six year old daughter up four flights of steps. By the end of it, you’re wheezing. You manage to unlock your door before gently setting her on the couch. With a sigh and a wipe of your now sweaty brow, you lock the door behind you and begin to head down to get the rest of your groceries.
There’s that woman again… and she lives in the apartment across the hall. You give her a friendly nod of the head and a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes before you continue your trek back down.
After your second trip up, your body is entirely exhausted. You hardly have it in you to cook dinner, but you dragged Ellie out, so you have to make the meal.
You’re able to wake her with the scent of her favorite meal, but as soon as she’s finished, she’s curling up against you and falling asleep.
After your daughter lays on top of you for quite some time, you know you have to put her in her own room. So, you silently make your way into her bedroom and tuck her in. With a quick kiss to the forehead and a soft “I love you”, you make your way back out to the kitchen.
Ellie is out for the night- she was exhausted halfway through your DoorDash shift- so you grab a glass and fill it with wine. The sweet drink helps to melt away some of the stress as you clean the dishes and settle on the couch for some much needed adult time.
That time is interrupted though when you hear a few rough knocks rattling your apartment. Instinctively, you grab the baseball bat that you keep behind the couch and make your way to the door.
Who the hell could be at your door at this hour? You don’t know anyone here, it wouldn’t be your parents… Could it be your ex-husband? No. He’s out in California with the woman he was cheating on you with. So who the hell is it?
“Who is it?” you yell, gripping the bat so tightly your knuckles turn white.
“You the woman that just moved in?” a gruff voice calls back.
You move a bit closer as you call, “What’s it to you?!”
“Saw you have a kid. Was wondering if you needed help with anything. You look real stressed.”
At that, you move closer to the door and glance out the peephole. It’s the woman that you ran into in the garage and at the grocery store. You open the door just slightly, still unsure of her.
“I ain’t gonna bite,” she teases. “You looked really stressed, so I thought I’d come over, introduce myself, and see if you needed any help.”
You lessen the grip on your bat as you open the door a little further. You take in the woman’s full appearance now that you aren’t trying to calm your daughter and aren’t terrified of being mugged. She’s… she’s really pretty.
You don’t realize that you haven’t say anything back until she’s waving a hand in front of your face. “Hello?”
You shake your head to bring yourself back to the present. “Hi. Sorry… today’s just been… a lot.”
“I could gather that. Can I help?”
You shrug. “I think I’m good at the moment, but I appreciate it.”
“Well,” the redhead purses her lips. “You ever need anything, I’m just across the hall.”
She turns to walk back to her apartment, but she stops when you call a gentle, “Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“I uh, never got your name,” you say quietly.
“Schemmenti. Melissa.”
“Nice to meet you,” you smile at her. “I’m Y/N, and the little girl you saw me with is my daughter, Ellie.”
She looks at you thoughtfully before nodding. She heads back to her apartment after that.
You run into her a lot in the following few days after that encounter. She sees you haul Ellie with you pretty much everywhere, and she has quite a few questions that she just can’t seem to work out on her own. So, one day after you’ve brought up Ellie and the groceries, she can’t help but knock on your door.
“Who is it?” you call, not bothering to move from your place on the couch with your daughter.
“Melissa,” the familiar voice calls back.
You sigh before making your way over to the door. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Just checkin’ in on you,” the redhead says. “I saw you hauling up Ellie and your groceries.”
“All good,” you chuckle. “Just about to make dinner for the two of us.”
“You haven’t had dinner yet?” She looks concerned.
“About to get the microwave pasta going now,” you admit sheepishly. “I was gonna have it made earlier, but El decided that she would die without Momma cuddles… and who am I to deny my sweet girl of such a request?”
“When’s her bedtime?”
“In about an hour,” you tell her. “Why?”
“Let me make youse two dinner,” she offers. “I’m a damn good cook, and I can make a pasta dish way better than the packaged sh-stuff.”
“Oh,” you say softly. “You don’t have to do that.”
“No, please,” she argues gently. “I insist.”
“O-oh,” you rub your collarbone nervously. “Are you sure?”
“I haven’t had dinner either,” she lies through her teeth. “So let me make us all a meal while you relax and hold your daughter.”
You finally manage to nod- she does not seem like the type of woman who would lose an argument.
“Just give me a couple minutes to gather some ingredients, and I’ll come back over?”
You smile in lieu of an answer. You close the door gently once she’s back in her apartment before making your way to Ellie.
“Sweet girl, our neighbor, Miss Melissa is coming over for dinner tonight. Can you be the polite little girl I raised?”
She nods, but she reaches for you. You pull her into your lap and hold her close until the redhead knocks on your door again. You pull yourself and your daughter off the couch to go open the door.
In her arms are a few different cans, some produce, and pasta that has clearly been homemade.
“Baby,” you tease the ends of you daughter’s locks gently. “This is Miss Melissa. Can you say hi to her for me?”
“H-hi,” Ellie manages to squeak out. “You’re really pretty.”
Melissa smiles at her, and when she speaks her voice has turned to butter. It’s much softer than when she’s speaking to you. “Thank you, hun. I’m Melissa. It’s so nice to meet you, Ellie.”
“How do you know my name?”
“I’ve been talking to your momma,” the woman chuckles gently.
The little girl’s lips form into an ‘O’ shape, and you can’t help the gentle kiss that you plant on her temple.
“Miss Melissa is going to make us dinner,” you tell your daughter softly. “Does that sound alright?”
She nods against your neck.
“I’m gonna make spaghetti,” the redhead tells Ellie. “That sound okay?”
“You might become her new favorite person,” you joke. “Little girl eats so many noodles, she’s gonna turn into one someday.”
You girl giggles against you. “Nah uh,” she scrunches her nose and makes a funny face at you. “That’s not possible, Momma.”
“I know, my love. I’m just teasing,” you chuckle before returning your attention to the woman in your doorway. “Well, come in, come in. Make yourself at home.”
She carries her things to the kitchen before starting her prep. The way that she gets everything done so efficiently is mind blowing to you, and you can’t help but watch in awe as you continue to hold Ellie.
“Sit down, hun,” Melissa instructs softly as she stirs her sauce. “Take a load off. I got this.”
“Are you sure you don’t want any help? Maybe a glass of wine for your troubles?”
“I won’t say no to a glass, but you absolutely are not helping. I got it.”
You pour her a glass and offer it to her before quietly sitting down and continuing to watch as she makes her way through your kitchen effortlessly.
Dinner is placed in front of you before you know it, and Ellie is nearly wiggling with glee at the plate in front of her. She dives in, and her eyes light up.
“This is so yummy!” your little girl cheers as she takes another forkful to her mouth.
“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart,” Melissa smiles. She gestures for you to take a bite as well, and when you do, you can’t help the small sigh that comes out of your mouth.
“Wow,” you say softly. “This is… incredible.”
“Thanks,” she chuckles as she take a bite of her own creation. “It’s a family recipe.”
Dinner is pleasant. The woman does her best to ask Ellie all about herself, to which your little girl answers delightfully. She’s even able to ask Melissa a few questions of her own. But once her plate is cleared, Ellie climbs into your lap and lets out a yawn as she fiddles with the chain around your neck.
“Is my little girl tired?” you coo softly.
She nods against you.
“Why don’t you start getting ready for bed, sweetness? Momma will be in in a few minutes to say goodnight,” you tell her. She nods again. “Well, off you go. But first, what do you say to Miss Melissa?”
“Thank you,” your daughter smiles brightly before climbing off your lap. Surprisingly, she makes her way over to the redhead’s side of the table and hugs her. Melissa wraps her arms around the little girl gently.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Get some good sleep tonight, yeah?”
Ellie nods before wandering down the hall to get to her bedroom, leaving you with Melissa.
“Thank you for dinner tonight,” you say softly.
“Any time.”
“No, seriously. I usually cook, but I was not feeling it tonight. So, thank you.”
“I’m sure. I saw you biking all around today, starting with this morning when I was heading to work and ending with you coming back from the store.”
“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m a busy woman.”
“Where are you always biking anyway?”
“I’m in between jobs at the moment, so I’ve just been DoorDashing with El until she starts school next week,” you sigh. “Hopefully I get a job soon… I need all the money I can get to keep this place and give El everything she needs or wants.”
“You’re doing great,” Melissa tells you honestly. “She adores you.”
“She likes you too,” you say quietly. “You’re really good with her.”
“Well, I have some experience with children,” she chuckles quietly. “I guess I should head out so you can get the little one to bed and get some sleep yourself, but I’ll see you around?”
“Next time, dinner’s on me,” you tell her.
“We’ll see about that one,” she laughs as she heads for the door. “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to holler.”
“Thank you, Melissa. Goodnight.”
You see her out, and as you close the door behind her, you sigh. You lean against it for a second, a little confused with the way you’re feeling after this diiner.
Maybe this new neighbor will become a close friend of yours… maybe something else. Only time will tell. But for now, you have to get back to your daughter.
Next
#melissa schemmenti#melissa schemmenti fanfic#melissa schemmenti x you#melissa schemmenti x reader#abbott elementary fanfic#abbott elementary fanfiction#abbott elementary
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Find You Again (Chap 2)
Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader
(pictures not mine)
Summary: Reuniting as stars, former high school sweethearts stage a fake relationship to boost their public image. Navigating the scripted romance, sparks fly. The big question: can this staged connection reignite their real love?
Warning: curse words, notify me if there are any. Credits to the owner for the picture that I used below the cut. There's a lot of time cut, just because.
A/N: I'm so excited to write this, enjoy. New series for y'all.
Song: South of the Border- Ed Sheeran (Feat Camilla Cabello and Cardi B)
That white dress (you can also see this in Enrique's Instagram)
Masterlist
Chap 2
______________________________________________________________
"What the fuck?" Y/N screamed inside her hotel room when she woke up "I didn't even went home with her, I... I went home with... I don't know what the fuck?" Y/N added clutching her head that's aching. Her publicist enters and said "That's what you get for trashing one of the paparazzi... But he deserve it anyway." Emilia gave the medicine to Y/N and added "Well, going home with Jenna is a much better headline than you assaulting a paps, right?" with a smirk on her face waiting for Y/N's reaction.
Y/N's eye widen with what Emilia said and replied "Hell no, the both of them aren't good for me, they need to be taken down, or like tell the media that I'm with some dude" finding her phone and trying to search a man in her contacts. With a disgusted look earned from her publicist, Emilia said "You would rather be linked with a man?"
Y/N gave Emilia a look that says "I would rather not be involved with anyone." With a smile, Emilia said "There's nothing we can do about it, even if we try to pay the media, we cannot pay the people in the internet, we're gonna be broke" and chuckled.
Y/N was lost with what Emilia said, "What do you mean by that?" Emilia replied "Well, you and Jenna are trending since yesterday up until..." and fished her phone up, opened her twitter and shows Y/N the top trending worldwide "now. Wow, the both of you are still trending."
"Fuck, this can't be, I'm gonna release an album in the next few months." Y/N said trying to pace around the room "Okay, then it's gonna be a good publicity for you" Emilia said that made Y/N stop in her tracks and looked at Emilia "No, it will not be a good publicity. I don't want my songs to be incorporated to that girl."
Emilia gave Y/N a questioning look "Who's 'that girl'?" with a teasing tone and Y/N replied "You know who Emilia..." and Emilia still continues to act clueless. "Jenna Ortega, of course" Y/N said and rolled her eyes.
"As your publicist, I don't see any problem with that. She has a good reputation, no bad issues, and her career is thriving" Emilia stated facts as Y/N tries not to listen because she knows that Emilia is right "Why are you even mad about the issue?" Emilia teased Y/N.
With a heavy sigh, Y/N walks to the bathroom and yells "YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHY EMILIA" and slams the door.
As Y/N was trying to rinse her face hoping her headache will be passed through the water that damps her face, she can't still believe that people will push the her and Jenna together.
On the other side of New York City, Jenna was staring at the wall of her hotel room while chewing her lower lip trying to think how can she get out of this mess.
"Are you okay? What's the matter?" Jenna's publicist asked her while she checks the news outlets and every social media. Jenna stays silent trying to think, until she blurted out "How about a PR Stunt?" She hates the idea of it, being in a fake relationship with someone that she really doesn't care about. "We can have a fake PR Stunt so that the rumors with that singer will stop, once and for all." Jenna suggested.
Wendy, her publicist looked at her and said "You don't need no PR Stunt with anyone, you're career is going well and you have no bad blood with anyone and we're not gonna start that now. She and her team aren't giving statements about it too, so let the rumors be rumors. Not if you want to prove them right, and that's the only thing that you will do if we release a statement and they still keep on seeing you two together." With an annoyed look, Jenna then answered "I just don't want to be linked with that woman, please." She pouted and looked at Wendy, trying to make her idea work.
"No, no stunts will be done and no statements will be released. This rumor is good for the both of you can't you see? The both of your careers are striving so well, her fans are supporting you and vice versa. The public sees you both as a good pair, so why not use Y/N as a stepping stone." Wendy said stating a good point that Jenna herself can't see a hole to poke in. Jenna hates it that Wendy is always right.
With a huff Jenna replied "Ugh, fine, but it will stay as rumors" and went to the bed and plop herself trying to gain more sleep.
---
Weeks after the said rumors have spread, both the singer and the actress went on the low since they didn't want to be seen together. Each of them kept on working privately for their own careers. Y/N doing some major to minor revisions for her album release in the next few months, while Jenna does some photoshoots and guesting in YouTube.
After the MET Gala in May, the both of them were thankful since they haven't seen each other in person. But surely, the rumors from their fans can't die as they sure did have a lot of photos and videos to talk about from the MET and those old photos of the both of them resurfacing from god knows where.
Y/N received a lot of incoming projects just like working for a song that will be played on a movie this coming December, she accepted the work, just for the fact that she will be writing a song; she just loves to write one, okay. Her agent would have explained for what movie it is, but Y/N just asked about how did the love story goes and then started to write one.
As for Jenna, September has been a chill month for her, a few fittings here and there for the Paris Fashion Week next month that she will attend and will be dresses in Dior. She spent her birthday with her family and closest friends. Trying to be more private and be less seen in public to not cause any disturbances in her life.
---
As September flew by with a bat of an eye, October has come with such a busy time for Y/N as she released her new album, every track has become a hit and has settled into the Top 10 songs of Billboard, her albums also sold millions and her songs are played in every radio station, which just means that Jenna, even if she doesn't want to, listened to songs that Y/N released.
Inside the car driving in the roads of Paris, Jenna was seated and a radio blasted a song...
She got the, mmm, brown eyes, caramel thighs
Long hair, no wedding ring, hey.
"EVEN IN PARIS?" Jenna exclaimed, she just arrived from her flight and she can't believe that Y/N is still haunting her. "What? It is a bop. Y/N, Camila, and Cardi did great with the song, you know..." Enrique teased her.
I saw you lookin' from across the way
And now I really wanna know your name
"Why would she even write a song like that?" Jenna tried to argue with Enrique, and her stylist just smiled and said "I mean, she just stated that she wants a woman with brown eyes, caramel thighs, long hair, is single, wears a white dress, and probably a Latina. You know I know someone with the same characteristics" Enrique ended with a teasing smile and a knowing look. "Fuck no" Jenna answered Enrique, trying not to barf herself out with that thought. Why would Y/N wrote a song about her.
She got the, mmm, white dress, but when she's wearin' less
Man, you know that she drives me crazy
"You did wore a white dress, you have brown eyes, hmm you had your hair long, you have beautiful thighs, you are Latina, and I'm pretty sure you're not married" Enrique pushed his luck trying to really into Jenna's nerve. "When did I wore a white dress? Huh?" Jenna tried to challenge Enrique, but as her stylist, of course he knows when did Jenna wore a white dress and answered "You remember that film interview with Melissa, that white dress from Zuhair Murad..." Jenna now remembers, and thought "Oh fucking shit, hell to the fucking no"
Enrique internally laughed at Jenna's reaction while Jenna pulled out her headphones, wore it and opened her phone, as she open her Spotify, she clicks the shuffle play to a playlist. Enrique smiled at what Jenna did, but in all honesty, even if Jenna hides it, Enrique can see that Jenna did enjoy Y/N's songs and even muttered lyrics of it, but only stopped when she noticed herself that she is singing her ex's songs.
In a hotel room in Paris Y/N exclaimed "WAIT, I'M ATTENDING DIOR? Am I not signed in another brand or something?" and Emilia just shrugged "No hun, you will go to Dior, you will meet big names there that will again boost your music and your status, so yes, Dior."
With a loud grunt Y/N started to pace around, which is a thing that she do when she tries to think of a way out for something that Emilia put her into. "Okay, please tell me that Jisoo will attend this show" Y/N says with her eyes closed and fingers crossed, Emilia just stared at her and answered her with a "Yes".
Just as Emilia thought, Y/N is a fan, and going to concert of Jisoo's group will be hard so this is a gift for Y/N and can also be a meeting place for new deals that Y/N needs to attract more people for her art and to gain more attention. But what Emilia didn't say is that Jenna will also be attending the Dior Fashion show. Even though Emilia knows about Jenna and Y/N's past, she can't let the rumor about the two die, since Y/N benefits a lot, she also knew that Jenna is benefiting by the fact that her publicist and her management is not releasing any statement, despite the allegations of Jenna dating Y/N and vice versa.
---
A large crowd has gathered, voices can be heard even from a mile away with how many people have gathered just to see the ladies and gents that Dior has invited.
Jenna with her black dress arrived, strutting down the big area that has been surrounded with people, waving and smiling to every people that calls her name. Walking inside the venue, she gets to meet a lot of people, from businessman, to artist, singers, and models.
A crowd has gathered in the middle of the room and she heard a voice coming from her publicist, "Okay, I don't know if you know her, but Jisoo is a global ambassador of Dior and she is in a group called Blackpink, go make friends." And with that, Jenna started to strut her way to a crowd of people and photographers, with her current status, of course people around her would know who she is, and without a doubt Jisoo and her are asked for a picture together.
On the other side of the venue, Y/N has been doing everything that she can just to meet Jisoo, but to no avail, she is stuck with old business man that has been eating her precious time, talking about old stuff that she really doesn't know. And in every French that will speak to her, she will just answer "oui" because who the fuck understands French? Not me, Y/N thinks.
But of course, the venue isn't as big as the USA or even Paris, so of course Y/N heard whispers that Jenna Ortega is also in the same vicinity as hers, but why would she believe something that she can't even see. Y/N thinks that if Jenna is really in the same place as hers, they would probably meet each other by now.
"You need to take your seat now, the show will start" She can hear Emilia's voice behind her and with a heavy heart, she decided to seat and hopes to meet JIsoo later.
Trying to get comfortable with her seat, a group of men started to walk her way and Y/N thinks "Who the fuck gets guarded like that on a fucking fashion show?" and when the men started to disperse, a lady wearing a high heel that is dressed in long black flowy skirt, a black see-through top, and a jacket with a long white jewelry hanging from her neck; Y/N's eyes travels upward and see's a terrified look on the other person's face.
Y/N's own face contorted with disgust, her fist clench on its own and when a curse word tries to get out of her mouth, a pinch to her side coming from Emilia broke her and said "Act nice." Wide eyed with a tight lipped smile greets the other person that is also trying to contain her emotions because...
"WHAT THE FUCK IS Y/N DOING IN HERE?"
Exactly, that was Jenna's thought when the body guards in front of her started to go to their post and give her her space and lead her to her seat. Her eyes widen, feeling that her blood suddenly is pushing upwards, feeling a little bit dizzy with how much her heart is pumping her blood from the anger that she feels from the inside. Her eyes suddenly moves to the side and looks at her publicist, jut like how her character Wednesday stare at people. Her publicist then whispered to her "Be good, now."
The both of them are now staring at each other, bewildered on how the fuck did they ended up seating next to each other on a Paris Fashion Week, knowing so damn well that there are hundreds of brand that's doing the same thing that they are doing right now.
With forced smiles and a toned down anger, Jenna seats beside Y/N, creating a big space between them that could accommodate another person if they wanted to. The two women, seating side-by-side, thinking of ways on how can they seat through the whole show without murdering each other or just to try to not cause a scene. Jenna did not brought enough patience for this show, if she only knew that Y/N will be here, then she would probably brought a lot of extra patience with her. As for the other girl, if Y/N would have known that Jenna would be here, she would've declined this offer immediately and just attend another show.
Without looking to her side Y/N whispers "what the fuck are you doing here?" Jenna trying not to look at Y/N has her ears ringing from anger with what she heard from the other woman and answered in a hushed tone "the fuck do you mean why am i here?" Y/N then turns her body towards Jenna and stated with a sassy tone "Why are you here? Are you trying to follow me?" This doesn't go unnoticed by Jenna "You're so full of yourself, I don't even know that you're in here you dumbass"
Before Y/N gets to speak, a photographer appeared and asked for a picture of them. With forced smiles, the two girls closed the gap between them and smiled brightly at the camera, acting like they weren't trying to slit each other's throat before he came in.
"Nice, another picture with you" Y/N said with a sarcastic tone, Jenna was trying to do some breathing exercise, praying that she wouldn't lose her cool because if things will just be on her way? She would've smacked Y/N right in the head with her purse. "Wow, who said I like being on one frame with you?" Jenna said with a tone full of disgust.
A cough from behind them ca be heard coming from both of their publicist, and they know so damn well how things will go if they continue to banter. So what they did was to be quiet, smile at the camera and the guests, and watch the fashion show unfold.
Half of the show have passed and Y/N wants to peel her ass from her seat, run to the nearest wall, and just smash her head. She can't stand another second of Jenna nodding at every model and hearing muttered words like how wonderful they are. Y/N moved over to Jenna and whispered "Don't act like you're interested, I know how much this things bore you." Jenna's hand travelled to Y/N's thigh and grips it, hard enough so that Y/N can feel Jenna's nails digging through the fabric of her dress "Shut up."
Y/N yelps and bites her lip to contain a surprised gasp that she just made, Y/N then lightly slaps Jenna's hand, "Don't you dare do that again, you're harassing me" Y/N said trying to threaten and Jenna gasped and pulls her hand away "I'm not harassing you!"
"Girls..." Emilia whispered from behind, with that, the two women sat quietly and tries to keep their hands from trying to pull each others hair. The scene that unfolded earlier where Y/N moved closer to Jenna wo whisper something and Jenna's hand on Y/N's thigh could tell a different story when you watch it from afar. That is why photographers tried to capture it, other guests also noticed the two being closer to each other.
While Y/N and Jenna watched the entire show quietly, both of their publicist seemed to arrived at a certain business deal that would greatly benefit the two stars that they are handling. But they know that this'll need more meetings and contract signings.
---
Dior Fashion show ended a few hours ago, Jenna was just chilling in the living room of her hotel trying to find a new movie to watch, but before she press play, her publicist messaged her that they need to have a dinner meeting to discuss future projects and this one is urgent. So what Jenna did was she got up and went to her dresser trying to find a semi-formal attire to wear and for her to somehow look decent.
In the lobby, there was Wendy, waiting for her with a bag on her hand and a cluster of paper on the other. "Sorry for the late notice, I just got this deal earlier" Wendy said trying to lead Jenna to the Hotel's Restaurant. While walking Jenna thought "Wait... why is my publicist making deals and not my manager?" And it made Jenna stop from walking and looked at Wende and asked "Does my manager know this so-called-deal?" and Wendy just answered "Of course, they're inside with the other party waiting for us" with a suspicious and eerie feeling, Jenna followed suit and walked towards the private room that Wendy entered.
A waiter opened the door on the other side and there was a big table with people who are seated and are talking, on the other side that faces her, she saw her manager, the other party which she guessed are facing their back to her. Wendy ushered Jenna to sit in the middle and while trying to look for the faces for the other party, Jenna feels like she knows the faces of these people. Starting from the right, analyzing her face, her hair, and the paper that is in front of her Jenna thought "Oh, probably she's the publicist" and when she moved from the so-called-publicist left, she sees a scowling face, eyebrows pushed together in the middle, lips are tight, and a rigid body posture, and Jenna thought "No fucking way" ready to run from where she is to the door, her arms were held down by Wendy and is trying to push her down to seat in front of none other than Y/N.
"What is this?" Jenna asked and Y/N "What do you think?" with a biting remark. The two of them holding a staring battle, trying to push each other's luck and trying to feel if the other one is gonna send them a punch or a slap. "Shut up, adults are talking" Jenna said with a smirk and Y/N answered "We are literally the same age, what are you talking about?" and before Y/N gets to add another remark Jenna cut her off and said "Oh yeah? Well the shut up, people who are mature enough gets to talk."
Y/N then stood up from her chair ready to pounce on Jenna when her manager hold her down and forced her to seat down and said "Calm down you two, we are not here to set you both to fight on a boxing ring in Vegas" and the other person in the room chuckles.
"Is this some kind of joke? What am I doing in here?" Y/N asked her manager and her publicist and Emilia answered her "Calm down first and we will explain, please girls." And Y/N tried to calm herself down staring at the wall.
Throughout the entire meeting, both of Y/N and Jenna's manager and their publicist explains how good it will be if the both of them will be in a public relationship. They explained that the media, the public, and their fans loved the two of them together, seeing how the rumor between the two of them isn't dying after months, how their status and fanbase got bigger, and how can this publicity attract more people to support the both of them.
"But I thought I'm gonna be okay without any public relationship?" Jenna said pertaining to what Wendy said and she answered "Well, it still is, but if you are in a relationship with Y/N everything will be better. It's gonna be a win-win situation for the both of us."
"I don't need this, I can do things on my own" Y/N said and her publicist explained "Yes, but it will be more better with a help you know" and that made Y/N furious "Okay, first of all I don't need her charity, I don't need anyone to boost my career. I am talented and that's what I'm gonna use." Then her manager butted in and said "Yes, we didn't mean it in that way Y/N and you know it. You're just gonna help each other out, be each other's stepping stone. When the contract finishes, there will be no bad blood and we will say that things just didn't work out because of schedule."
When Y/N's manager said that, both Y/N and Jenna looked at each other's eye, feeling like it did struck a nerve on the both of them, holding each other's stare for a second, the room went silent. Y/N then looked down at her lap after she caught Jenna stared at her, she plays with the end fabric of the table cloth. Jenna on the other and was just staring at Y/N, biting her lip, trying to say something but she can't eve formulate a word.
"Okay, I think we are done, we can continue this tomorrow, sounds like a plan?" Wendy said collecting the papers in front of her, the managers were standing up and trying to leave the room.
Y/N was still seating and looking down, Wendy and her manager knows so damn well that they need to leave Y/N alone when she went this silent. Jenna was also the same, still seating down in her seat, feeling like someone nailed her to where she is.
With a deep sigh, Y/N raised her eyes in front of her, where Jenna's eyes were awaiting. A lingering sense of familiarity can be felt in line with a feeling of deep longingness and hatred. The air was thick, both of them trying to read each other's mind. Y/N knows Jenna, she knows all of her, but not the one who is seating in front of her. On the other hand Jenna's waiting for Y/N to say something, because she knows Y/N so damn well, she knows her that well. Both of them feels like they were thrown back from where they were, contemplating and thinking on a restaurant.
Y/N and Jenna stared at each other for a second, Y/N's lips opened a few times, trying to say the words that runs through her mind, but failed after a few attempt. Jenna tries to calm her breathing because it seems like everything seems to fall on her shoulders, hitting her like a brick.
This wasn't what they imagined themselves after years of their break-up. They didn't imagine them seeing again, sitting on a restaurant, talking about their relationship. Everything that's happening brings ton of memories from the past that the both of them were trying to bury. So there they were, seated, facing each other, trying not to break down, and praying to whoever listens that this was just a joke, a prank, a dream, just not a reality that they need to face.
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South of the Border Singer Y/F/N Y/L/N and Actress Jenna Ortega seen Dining together in the City of Love
Y/F/N Y/L/N and Jenna Ortega both attended the 2023 Dior Spring show together and both seated side-by-side, some photographers from the inside released pictures of them getting close to each other and seemingly enjoying each other's presence.
Just as we thought that it will end there, the two stars surprises us with them being together dining in a hotel where Jenna Ortega is currently staying. Sources from the inside told that they dine inside a private room. Both of the stars arrived and went away separately. But this doesn't stop us from getting a moment of them together.
This occurrence only ignites the rumor that Y/N's new songs from the album are all about Jenna. Both of the stars aren't releasing any statements and their agency are still silent about this issue.
Stay tuned for more of this brewing love story that us slowly unfolding in our eyes!
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A/N: HI, apologies for the long wait, I hope you like it. I'm open for your thoughts and comments. Thanks again for reading and waiting. Not proofread, so notify me if there are any mistakes.
Tag list:
@hy-uk-ai @ortegalvr @mirage018 @geed-3 @idkjustliving2 @aurora-starwars (sorry just tagged all of you)
#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x you#fanfic#fiction#jenna ortega imagine#findyouagain
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Creepypasta/MH - Doing Halloween Stuff With Them :)
(Characters: Tim/Masky, Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer, Nina the Killer, Jane the Killer, Ticci Toby)
Tim/Masky
Hear me out... corn maze
I believe that Tim enjoys a good puzzle every now and again
He loves trying to figure things out (specifically when there's nothing at risk)
Getting to show off his navigational skills is also a major plus
He just likes to impress you, even if it comes off as annoying sometimes
"See? What'd I tell you? The exit's right there."
Though he does like the satisfaction of completing the maze, what he really treasures is that time you spend together figuring it out
Once you finally find the exit, you'll celebrate with hot cocoa :D
Eyeless Jack
This man LOVES carving pumpkins
He goes all out; definitely one of those people who makes the crazy intricate designs that look like they take hours
He'll love it if you help him!
If you have a steady hand, he'll let you do the details
If you don't, he'll task you with gutting the pumpkin/handing him tools
You guys collaborate on multiple pumpkins throughout the month, setting them in random locations for everyone to see
If there's a design you want to do, just show it to him, there's no question he'll be down
If it's too simplistic, he'll try to add more details
"Ooh, Jack, look at this one. Can we try to re-create it?"
"Of course! Though I do have some ideas on how it can be improved..."
Jeff the Killer
Another pumpkin carving enjoyer
But for a different reason... a very different reason
He loves the goriness of gutting the pumpkins
He couldn't care less about making actual designs, he just wants to get messy stabbing the pumpkin and gouging out its insides
That being said, he'll 100% gut your pumpkin if you ask him (he'll probably end up doing it even if you don't ask)
It's honestly a little disturbing watching him work
He just gets this look in his eye...
"You, uh... you doing okay there, Jeff?"
"Hm? Yup! Never better!! Say, can you grab the big knife from the kitchen for me?"
Nina the Killer
You best bet she's the costume queen
Spends the whole year planning matching horror-themed costumes
She'll settle for no less than creativity and perfection
High-quality props and articles only!! She'll even make them herself if she has to!
You can expect to spend at least an hour in front of the mirror while she does your makeup/adjusts your clothes
She's an SFX makeup legend, loves incorporating as much gore into your costume as possible
Don't ask why it's so realistic (it's not like she knows how the wound would look if it was real or anything)
"Wow, Nina... It's almost like I can feel it! It's so real!"
"No, no. If you were feeling it, you would be screaming pretty loud right now."
You can also expect to attend multiple parties where you show off your costumes
You guys dominate costume competitions
Jane the Killer
Horror movies!!
Specifically, making fun of them
You both pick apart the plot, the characters, the dialogue, the special effects, everything
No horror film is safe from your scrutiny
If you're the type to get scared during horror movies, her snide comments will help distract you
"Ooh, I can't look!"
"Oh, come on. Look—I bet they used corn syrup for that fake blood. It's way too thick."
When the movie ends, you're both feeling more amused than scared
She doesn't like to see horror films in theaters because she doesn't get to make commentary, plus she doesn't want to "waste" money on a "stupid tryhard-horror flick"
She'd much rather dig up some old indie DVD/VCR and have a home movie night with you
Ticci Toby
Halloween sweets are his bread and butter
Candy apples, fun-sized candy bars, candy corn, pumpkin bread...
He would perish if you made anything homemade for him
Spends the whole month gorging on sweets almost as fast as he can get his hands on them
He will not share with anyone but you
And even you only get a small portion of his goodies
Robs at least one child on Halloween night, mostly for the candy but also because he likes scaring little kids
"Where did you get all that candy?"
"Got it from a little birdy. By that I mean a kid in Falcon cosplay."
"Toby! ... save me the (favorite candy)."
Thank you for reading! Have a good day/night my spooky pookies <33
(divider by saradika)
#creepypasta#creepypasta headcanons#creepypasta x reader#masky x reader#eyeless jack x reader#jeff the killer x reader#nina the killer x reader#jane the killer x reader#ticci toby x reader#masky#tim wright#jeff the killer#nina the killer#jane the killer#ticci toby#marble hornets#marble hornets x reader
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roomies. spencer reid x reader
content — fem!bau!reader. injured!reader. fluff. anonymous request. brief injury description. reader uses conditioner. making out.
when you no longer need your live-in doctor, you find you desperately want him to stay.
you were absolutely fuming when the unsub shot you. just one, clean through the shoulder, that caused you to fall in a twist down the stairs, spraining your ankle. the chances of both of those events occurring had to be low, and spencer assured you of the statistics to back that theory up. just bad luck. fuming.
unfortunately, it also meant your life was substantially difficult to navigate while healing. you could barely shower, cook food, unlock doors, get changed. in fact it wasn’t ‘barely’, you just couldn’t. so the natural solution was to have your best friend move in with you while you were out of action entirely.
“it’s no big deal.” he shrugged. your best friend that you harboured secret feelings for, shrugged. no big deal.
there were some challenges.
“spencer,” you huffed for the tenth time that morning, “i am not swallowing those gross fish vitamins.”
he tutted at you, “they’re cod, and they’re going to help your sprain recover. valid studies have shown-”
awkwardly, you stood and used your uninjured arm to jab him in the chest, “i don’t care if they would grow me a whole new bone, they’re gross.”
it was weeks like that, when he wasn’t on cases. harmless bickering as he fussed over you like a newborn. but despite your teasing, you were not looking forward to the day he’d be moving back into his own apartment. it was nice, having someone to come home to. it took the sting out of the loneliness you felt, and you weren’t delusional for thinking he felt that way too. as your casts and slings were eased off, the both of you looked rather dejected, confusing the nurse tending to you greatly.
spencer nudged your good shoulder, “now you can help me box up my things.”
you’d gotten used to his things, though. his aftershave in the bathroom, his chess set by the couch. even his supposedly mobile library he’d moved into your apartment. you knew how empty it was going to feel.
in fear of that emptiness, you blurted it out on the car ride home from the hospital, “maybe you should stay a bit longer.”
“yeah?” he briefly took his eyes off the road to raise a brow at you, “you think you still need help?”
“i don’t need it.” you mumbled, picking the skin around your cuticles nervously. spencer noticed, and flicked your hands apart as a silent way of telling you not to do that. still taking care of you.
he didn’t push your declaration, just nodding, “okay. how long were you thinking?”
somewhere between a bated breath and a rush of words, you pushed out, “like, forever?”
this time, both his brows jumped and he had to clear his throat to stop his voice from cracking, “really? like roommates?”
no, like lovers, “yes, like roomies. nevermind, it was a stupid idea.”
“i don’t think so. i’d love to be… roomies.” the word sounded strange, too informal, coming from him, and it made you laugh. which made him smile.
after that very spencer-esque conversation, he moved the rest of his material belongings in, and put his flat up on listings. it sold fast, and you had to wonder why he’d agreed so rapidly, considering his place was notably nicer than yours. you had to wonder why he agreed at all, though it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone else that you hadn’t been able to separate. and the rest unfolded like one of the rom-coms you forced him to watch.
you no longer needed him to wash your hair over the side of the bath, which had at first been annoying because he did not wash the conditioner out properly. but now you missed it; it had become almost a bonding experience. that became true of a lot of things you’d adjusted to in the past months. him helping you into bed, you playing the wounded card to make him watch your shows on tv.
one thing that hadn’t changed was the sheer amount of card games you two played. you knew spencer was always going to win, but you tortured yourself with it anyway. one night, you were splitting the deck as you announced, “i’ve got a new game. it’s called rummy version two.”
before he could explain all the deviations rummy had from its origin over the years, making your game not a second version but at least an eighth, you rushed on to outline the rules. you were completely making it up as you went along, and continued adding to it as you played. it was impossible for you to lose, and spencer quickly figured out that you were bullshitting. for a profiler, you had a terrible poker face.
“you’re making this up.” he stated, putting his cards down.
you leant over the table, now able to rest pressure on your arm, and challenged, “prove it.”
there was a thick tension that had arisen suddenly between the pair of you, though the more you thought, the less sudden it seemed. maybe it had been building for a while. like the blush steadily rising to his cheeks as you got slightly closer to his face.
he smirked, “you’re winning.”
“rude. that doesn’t mean i’m-”
what it didn’t mean, spencer never got to hear, because it was at that moment he surged forward to close the remaining distance between your lips. you almost fell when you two collided, but his grip had attached to your upper arm to steady you. his kiss did not relent, demanding and speaking of all the impatience he’d felt recently. you responded likewise, threading your hands into his curls as soon as you got your balance, barely breaking for breath.
spencer’s skin on yours was something you had thought about more than you cared to admit, and with the fervour he was kissing you with, you thought he might’ve experienced the same. he was almost desperate against you, hands trailing to smooth over any section of exposure he could find, before one rested on the side of your face, and the other on your thigh.
“spencer,” you gasped, pulling away to catch air in your lungs, “need to breathe.”
he nodded as though he’d forgotten that, mimicking your heavy breaths, but not taking his hands off you. you rested your forehead against his and blinked. it was starting to sink in, the line you’d just crossed together.
“do we have to tell hotch about this?” you suddenly asked.
spencer frowned, “why are you thinking about hotch right now?”
you laughed and kissed him again, quickly this time, “you’re right, let’s just…”
“yeah.”
thank god he agreed to be roomies.
#🤍ebullientheart#spencer reid#criminal minds#bau!reader#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x injured!reader#injured!reader#fem!reader#spencer reid hurt/comfort#humour#fluff#spencer reid x bau!reader#tw injury
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Weathering the Storm
Okay, so the requests for angst or a fight with Abby have been rather prevalent. I hear you loud and clear. I truly enjoy writing pieces for all of you. But also, I don’t view Abby as the girl who is going to fight with you or land herself in a toxic relationship, so that’s not what this is. If anything, I think Abby is the girl who shows you what genuine, safe love is. It’s normal to tackle big emotions when you’re integrating someone into your life, but I don’t want to perpetrate unhealthy dynamics for my fellow lesbians. You're worthy of a love that doesn’t leave you feeling lost and lonely, and it’s out there. I swear.
Alas, here’s my interpretation of your first big spat with Abigail Anderson in a post-apocalyptic world. 18+ only, light angst, sexual themes.
Your first official fight with Abby feels awful, like a steely punch to the gut. You’ve squabbled and debated over trivial things in the past, but this conflict feels more substantial. It’s beginning to fester into a nauseating and distressing ache in your stomach that serves as a meager reward for feeling frustrated and guilty.
But here’s the thing—surely, it’s only natural to feel upset with her given what you’ve been told. So why then, does it feel like a dark, looming cloud hanging overhead? Maybe the ultimate challenge is in navigating the delicate equilibrium between your triggers and your trust in her.
As you process your emotions, you find temporary relief by immersing yourself in work, fully aware that she is employing the same coping mechanism somewhere beyond the walls of the stadium.
It would be reassuring if she were on the FOB, ensuring her safety and giving you peace of mind, but truthfully, Abby is a highly sensitive girl who becomes immensely distraught whenever she senses instability in her surroundings. Drawing on her inherent instincts, she leans heavily into the role of being useful, which eases the threat of her life coming undone.
You are gentle with that aspect of her because you understand her struggle to be vulnerable.
It feels dreadful to be avoiding her like this, and it’s impossible to shake off the discomfort. But the scale of what transpired feels too enormous to dismiss, and you are at a loss on how to bring your emotions to the surface without everything collapsing.
With the blanket she knitted for you wrapped tightly around your shoulders, you reread the same page of your book a dozen times. You feel a strong desire to numb the sharp shards of glass piercing your stomach, the very place where warm flutters usually stir. The ache of Abby’s absence eclipses the original cause of your sorrow, leaving you feeling empty and lost.
When a knock at the door shatters your brooding thoughts, you toss your book onto the coffee table. The idea of dragging yourself off the couch to answer it feels overwhelming, your energy drained.
With a sudden click, the lock turns and Abby steps into your apartment. Her shoulders slump, as if weighed down by the assumption of your hesitancy to welcome her. After shutting the door, she leans on it, fidgeting with her keyring.
“Is it okay that I’m here?” she asks.
Nodding at her, you sit up on the couch, curling your arms around your knees.
With a clink, Abby drops the small lanyard into a trinket dish on the kitchen counter. After six months of subtle hints and coy smiles, it took a mere two weeks of dating for her to swipe the key to your place, and you were more than happy to surrender it to her.
“How’d everything go on your run?” you ask.
A half shrug lifts her broad shoulders, while her eyes deliberately evade yours, exposing her discomfort.
“You remember that old mall?” she asks. Engrossed in her thoughts, she chews on her lower lip. “We finally cleared it today.”
“That’s good,” you say. “Stalkers have been running the place for years. It’s about time new management stepped in.”
Abby puffs a soft laugh, her bittersweet chuckle implying she doesn’t feel deserving of finding your jokes humorous. Her face carries such a profound sadness that it pulls the strings of your heart tight, urging you to rewind time.
“I found something for you, but I left it at my place,” she explains. “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to grease your palm or anything.”
“Well, I’m not above bribes,” you tease, hoping to smooth the furrowed lines on her forehead. “I’ve always been a fan of your gifts.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” Abby asks, choked with emotion.
Her question is a thunderous brick to your chest, stripping you of breath. It wasn’t a notion that had crossed your mind, but as the hours dragged on, you were anxious about her perceiving it as a thought you were mulling over.
“Is that what you want?”
“Can I be honest?” Abby sniffs.
She’s hugging herself so tightly that you’re concerned about her blood flow. Fear grips your heart, leaving your mouth parched as you struggle to swallow.
“Of course. You can tell me anything.”
You pat the spot next to you on the couch, and Abby eagerly shuffles closer, her footsteps soft against the carpet. The rug, carefully wrapped in a protective sleeve when you found it, was a surprising discovery on your most recent run together.
The way she unraveled you on it, after it arrived at your door, is a memory that will always stay with you.
When Abby takes a seat beside you, the weight of her body sinks into the cushion and creates a magnetic pull that draws you closer. Her initial apprehension fades as she gently touches your socked toes, her hands instinctively wrapping around them to provide warmth.
“Out of everyone in this fucked up world, you’re the one I can’t bear to lose,” she says. “But I know sometimes I’ll mess up and it sucks because I’m crazy about you.”
“I’m crazy about you, too,” you say.
“I can’t stand letting you down.”
“Yeah—I hear you there. I feel the same.”
Her hair falls across her face, and you reach out to tuck it behind her ear. She leans into your hand, savouring the gentle gesture.
“I’m sorry for making you doubt me like this. I promise there is absolutely nothing for you to worry about.”
“It’s just that everyone’s talking, you know? It’s a lot of gossip, but it still hurts.”
Reflecting on the day that woman arrived, you can’t help but recall her doe eyes raking over Abby, as if she hung the moon and all its stars.
Which she absolutely does—but only for you.
You two have been through this before, watching as crushes come and go.
Each week, the stadium welcomes a constant influx of new civilians and soldiers, captivating affection-starved humans with the beauty inside. Once people realize that the two of you are already in a committed relationship, they tend to respect the boundaries.
This woman gets under your skin in a way no one else ever has.
“It should’ve come from me,” Abby says. “I feel so bad you found out the way you did. Can I tell you what really happened?”
The pad of her thumb finds your ankle, tracing circles around the delicate bone.
“I want you to hear it from me this time,” she continues.
“Alright,” you say. “Shoot.”
She recounts the party at Manny’s last weekend.
It was the only event that you two hadn’t attended together since you officially became a couple. At first, you didn’t have any concerns because Abby has consistently been dependable in her communication with you.
Manny wanted to throw a wild bash to help everyone blow off steam after a nerve-wracking mission, and you wanted her to enjoy the breather. If you hadn’t been so exhausted the week leading up to it, the bass-heavy music and infectious laughter of your friends would’ve invigorated you—Abby playfully bouncing you on her knee to the rhythmic beat the way she always does.
Instead, it was someone else vying for the empty spot on Abby’s lap.
“She got pretty wasted, like—all over the place drunk. Near the end, she was hitting on everything that moved, basically.”
“Okay. And that included you at some point?”
“It took me a minute to notice, but yes. She tried to make a move.”
A hot, prickling sensation coils like a bitter serpent in the pit of your stomach, impossible to suppress.
“God, Abby. And you still walked her home after? I can’t understand that.”
Your attempt to keep your emotions in check proves futile as tears sting the rims of your eyes, threatening to spill over. The moment you sniffle against them, her gaze immediately locks onto you.
“Please don’t cry,” Abby whispers. Using the sleeve of her shirt, she dabs away the moisture staining your lashes. “Nothing happened. I swear on your life.”
“Did you think about hooking up with her?”
“Fuck no,” Abby says. “I would never, ever step out on you.”
When she clasps your hand, it’s with a firm grip, as though she’s afraid you might slip through her fingers.
“She was all over Manny, and his new girl was getting really pissed off. Like, she was a total mess, and no one wanted to deal with it. Before shit went down, I got her out of there. But she isn’t my responsibility and I realize that now.”
Mulling over her narrative, you’re convinced beyond any doubt that it’s truthful.
When something needs fixing, everyone instinctively turns to Abby. It has always been that way. She has adopted the duty of looking after her community and providing structure, and you deeply admire that quality in her.
There is a significant amount of pressure that accompanies the responsibility of being a protector. It would be nice if people cut her some slack from time to time.
Perhaps you could be the one to initiate it.
“You’re spoken for, Abby.”
“I know,” she says. “And I don’t take that for granted.”
“Maybe it goes without saying, but I’ll seriously fuck her up if she tries that shit again,” you warn. “I am not kidding, Abigail. Drunk or not, I don’t care.”
Sporting a mischievous grin, Abby bites down on the inside of her cheek. When she lets go of your hand to fidget with her own, you playfully nudge her.
“What?” you ask.
“I don’t hate this side of you.”
“Yeah, well, we better put the cork back on ‘cause things will get pretty real when I’m kicking her slutty ass all over town.”
“Copy that,” Abby smirks. “Putting the cork back on the crazy, pronto.”
She lifts her legs onto the couch to wrap the blanket around both of you. While she’s earnestly trying to convey the depth of her devotion to your relationship, she’s struggling to contain her laughter at your feistiness.
Her knees collide with yours, bringing back memories of the night she invited you over to watch a movie but couldn’t take her eyes off you long enough to pay attention to the screen.
That first kiss had such hunger and heat behind it that the recollection still makes your cheeks flush, her rough, curious hands keeping you breathless for hours.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Spill,” you say.
“You’ll always be my girl,” Abby says, tracing the curve of your spine with her fingertips. “I’ve known it from the start.”
“Well, I think the people may need a reminder,” you murmur.
You feel her velvet breath on the back of your hand as she kisses it. Tenderly, she pulls you onto her lap and nestles her face in your hair.
“Let’s give ‘em one.”
#abby the last of us#abby tlou#abby x fem!reader#abby x reader#abby x you#tlou abby#lesbian#tlou part 2#abby anderson
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On Gabe. (TW // abuse)
as a victim of abuse myself, everyone complaining that Gabe is not ''abusive enough'' makes me so enraged. just because we don't see sally limping with a black eye while blood is rushing down her face, it does not mean she's not abused. it's important to recognize that abuse can manifest in various forms, including emotional, psychological, verbal, and financial abuse and even more. it is not always visible or easily identifiable. abuse leaves scars that aren't always visible to the naked eye. stop pretending it is always black and white.
he is financially abusive: he is unemployed and seemingly devoid of any inclination towards responsibility. he shamelessly exploits Sally's hard-earned money and so, her efforts to secure a stable financial future for herself and Percy are callously disregarded as Gabe channels those funds into a destructive vortex of gambling.
he is verbally abusive to Percy: he always belittles him, undermining his self-esteem and sense of worth. Percy is barely twelve, living in a world that was not crafted for him, and he is trying to come to terms with that and there is Gabe, taking advantage of that. the psychological impact of Gabe's actions goes beyond mere verbal jabs; it seeps into the very fabric of Percy's self-concept. if you want to believe it or not.
he is okay with physical abuse: when Percy mentions he got kicked out for ´´assaulting a girl´´, instead of the expected concern or guidance everyone would expect, Gabe's response is a simple yet chilling "okay," delivered with an almost impressed and approving tone. rather than condemning the use of physical force, Gabe's indifferent response suggests that he too would be okay with it and that perhaps, Percy's house isn't the safe place he thought it would be. (which we know is true, if you have read the books)
he is mentally abusive: HE answered Sally’s phone and spoke to the principal at Yancy. Gabe, ever the puppeteer, attempted to extend his influence by seeking to control not only the household dynamics but also the very upbringing of Sally's son.
coercive control: in this scenario, Gabe is exerting control over the family's mobility by dictating access to the car. by making Sally negotiate, Gabe is asserting dominance and creating an environment where Sally feels compelled to seek his permission for everyday activities.
and I cannot believe that twelve year old Percy saw the red flags before some of you all -- who are grown adults -- did. Percy's recognition of the subtle manipulation tactics employed by Gabe showcase the emotional intelligence and observational skills that children can only develop when navigating difficult circumstances (shoutout to my psychology class).
so you know what? I think TV shows need more representation like this. the portrayal of Gabe as an abuser who initially appears harmless and quite stupid aligns with the reality of many abusive relationships because contrary to popular perceptions, abuse doesn't always manifest in blatant physical aggression or explicit threats. more often than not, it takes on subtler forms, such as psychological, emotional, or financial manipulation (as I already mentioned). and I am so proud that the show chose this narrative path because it sheds light on the less-discussed aspects of abuse. in my opinion, the show proves to be a valuable resource by deviating from conventional tropes in its portrayal. victims often hesitate to seek help when their experiences deviate from the expected narrative, and bystanders may struggle to recognize the more subtle aspects of abuse, perpetuating a culture of silence and impunity for abusers. so good job to the percy jackson directors, you got my respect. <3
#percy jackson#percy jackson series#JB is thinking about pjo#pjo series#percy jackson spoilers#percy jackson disney+#gabe ugliano#sally jackson#pjo discussion#tw abuse#narcissistic abuse
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Hello! I have a question that may be a tad uncomfortable but I don't know who could answer honestly. How do you get over class with a professor who self identifies as your mentor/father? He spilled his guts to me after class and told me how happy he was he connected to a young girl like me(Im 19 he's 59). He will be my prof for the ENTIRE year. I don't know how to feel, it wasn't flirty at all, and I actually think he sees himself in me. He's odd and off putting and stand offish. I am too, kinda. He said if shouldn't feel lonely because Im different, because I have my family, and now him (also Implied i should find god).
He's a conservative catholic with a wife and kids, I can tell he doesn't mean it in a weird way. He probably means well. But it's odd that he's acting like a mentor when I've only known him for a month.
Now, I thought this chat wouldn't affect me but he psychoanalysed me and it felt like he saw right through me while treating me like his therapist. I also think he's a lonely man who is projecting, seeing my potential and "what could've been" for himself.
How do I cope? I don't want this to affect me, but it pushed me terribly off axis. I felt pigeonholed, more than anything, and also feel bad for him.
WELP. Okay, first of all, I want to reinforce that this is NOT your fault and that it clearly creeped you out to the point where you decided to ask someone for help, all of which means that the situation is not okay and he does NOT have the right to do any of this -- whether forcing emotional intimacy on you after a very short time, suggesting that you Find Jesus and/or convert, hinting that he wants to "mentor" you, or whatever. Just because he's a conservative Catholic is no guarantee that it won't get creepier (indeed, often the total opposite) and even if it wasn't sexual or didn't feel sexual at the moment, that is... wrong. He should not have done it. He does not have the right to decide He Is Now Your Mentor and to push that connection on you. Even if it was not conscious or intentional grooming behavior, it is... squicky to say the least, showed that he was willing to push boundaries with you right away, and is certainly something that should make you cautious of any more uncontrolled or one-on-one interaction with him. So yeah. Gross. "Now you have me so you won't be lonely"??? Sorry, there is no scenario in which I can imagine that being an okay thing for a professor to say to a student. No. It may be that he just doesn't have a good sense of social boundaries or appropriate behavior, but that also doesn't mean you need to excuse it.
Next, if you can switch to another section or class so you don't have to spend the year with him, that might be worth looking into. If you can't, then obviously minimize the time you spend one-on-one (if there are office hours or if you need help with the class, maybe ask your peers or the TA if there is one, rather than him) and remember that you can tell people at your university if it continues to creep you out, not just me. There are procedures in place at most institutions to document this kind of interaction if it continues to cross a line (I don't know where you are in the world, but in the university where I work in the US, there's an office of Title IX, which deals with these kinds of issues). Older male academics smarming up to young female students and telling them they're "special" happens a lot, unfortunately, and while it doesn't always end terribly, it is something that you deservedly flagged as weird and which you should keep an eye on going forward. I'm sorry that you've experienced this and once again offer my support in navigating this year in as un-icky a way as possible. Please remember that you do not have to apologize for or excuse yourself for making choices to get out of a weird situation that clearly threw you for a loop, and you do not have to put up with this behavior if it continues or gets worse. Good luck.
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Why I'm Okay with Nancy/Tristan Having a "Soulmate" Connection and What That Means for Nace
Okay, this is going to be less of a theory explanation than a deep dive into the most prevalent (?) theory I've read/the theory I subscribe to, and why I think it's going to play out in an amazing and satisfying way for our beloved star-crossed lovers.
First, the theory: Tristan is the Sin Eater, destined to reincarnate throughout time and consume the sins of Horseshoe Bay. After what we've seen in 4x10 (the *spark*, "We've walked this path many times before.", "It was like he knew you."), it seems Nancy is some kind of light-energy-Sin Eater-counterpart. An Angel of Truth, perhaps? It seems she is also destined to reincarnate throughout eternity in order to reveal the truths of Horseshoe Bay.
Why I love this theory: Nancy is passionate about finding out the truth and has a dedication to honesty. It's ingrained in her from a young age, and plays a huge role in why she solves mysteries and how she navigates her relationships. She solved the biggest mystery of all (her own heritage) by "always seeking out the truth, even when it hurts.” Just like Kate taught her. And every single one of her relationships is colored by it—Nick pulling away because she wouldn’t be honest with him. Uncovering that Ace was lying and working for McGinnis. Pushing Bess to reveal her real identity. The list goes on.
We’ve also known Nancy to lie when it’s incredibly important for her—Recanting her testimony and destroying her credibility to save Ace’s life, lying by omission to Ace about the curse to keep him safe.
(also Carson calls Nancy their “better angel” and wow do I love a show that makes things work from 2 seasons ago).
How I think it will play out for Nace: Right now, Nancy seems pretty heavily into this so-called “romantic” connection with Tristan, and Ace seems rather forgotten doesn’t he? She talks about him as an “ex” and that Tristan is an “open and honest” communicator, and a “mature” relationship, implying that those things aren’t/weren’t true about Ace, which we all know is obviously not true.
But we learned that Nancy was the last sinner. Personally, I think (and hope) that Nancy’s confessed sin was about (momentarily) giving up HB in order to have a future with Ace. However, regardless of what the sin is, it’s HIGHLY likely that it is Ace and curse related, and if it’s Ace and curse related that means Nancy’s, and Ace’s (...and the crew’s, and the dads’, and…everyone’s) memories are altered. And you know what? If your memories are altered in some way that makes you forget you are cursed or forget that you love someone, this mystical Sin Eater/Angel of Truth soul spark connection thing is gonna feel pretty darn romantic to you.
So what happens when the truth is revealed? We have two truths to uncover here: Nancy’s sin, and the truth about what she is/her past lives.
Number 1: Revealing Nancy’s sin will help her see her relationships more clearly and remember her relationship with Ace. Remember, “our memories make us who we are and that is worth fighting for.”, and we have seen Nancy fight tooth and nail for Ace this season, every fight/break-up they had about their relationship and the curse being colored by their desperation to be together. When that comes rushing back, it’s going to be a big shift. Nancy tells Ace “That's all you're really left with... just messy, stupid memories that stick around, and... good or bad, you get to make more of them.” Nancy has memories with Ace and she’s going to fight for them. She’s going to fight to make more memories with him.
Number 2: We already see Nancy feel pretty strongly about freeing Tristan from his fate as the Sin Eater, and wanting to stop him from having to be reincarnated forever. When she finds out she’s the same, she’s going to fight to end it for herself too. So much of Nancy’s life has been fated/determined—being a Hudson, learning her life was a lie, being taken in by the Drews (Yes, they choose to raise her but did they really have the option to say no? Come on, it’s Carson and Kate), and now this? And so much of Nancy’s life has been about clinging to normalcy. She just wanted to go to Columbia to get away, to be normal. To have a regular family and regular friends. She didn’t ask to be pulled into a murder case and to hunt down supernatural killers. She didn’t ask to be haunted by Lucy Sable. She didn’t ask to be some supernatural reincarnated truth entity.
Nace is endgame. We know this. And right now the ‘star-crossed lovers’ of it all has taken on a new twist. Once cursed to not be together, we now learn that one of them is reincarnated and the other is not. Unable to even spend eternity together.
(Yes, I have Thoughts and Theories on how Nancy putting Ace’s name in the jar at the Lover’s Vigil may have created some connection here, perhaps forging an eternal/after death bond that wasn’t there before. And I also have Thoughts and Theories about that ‘mystical wedding vibe’ of the curse break attempt in 4x03 and how in a wedding ‘two shall become one’ and maybe now their souls are bonded which could influence everything, but that’s A Whole ‘Nother Post.)
So Nancy is going to choose Ace. Break out of whatever Truth/Sin eternal connection this is and choose Ace. Remember that Carson said “maybe we get more than one [soulmate]”, and he also told Nancy “You control your fate. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” Maybe Tristan is Nancy’s supernatural soulmate, but Ace is Nancy’s person and she’s going to choose him.
The Naceplications:
Here’s why that’s an incredible thing for Nace, and is going to be an important thing for their character arcs, both individually, and as a couple.
Ace needs to be chosen. Ace struggles with insecurities of feeling lost, without purpose, and being unworthy. So much of Ace's life has been about proving himself—proving to his father he’s not a child and can make adult decisions, proving to McGinnis he’s not a screw up after he got caught hacking that database, proving his worth to Grant even as a brother by helping him, proving to Nancy he’s worth her time and attention by trying to always help her (and only in 4x06 does he realize maybe that’s flawed).
But what he doesn’t realize is he’s always been enough just how he is. Nancy loves him just how he is. She opens up to him about tanking her grades, tells him he’s brilliant when he starts making connections with Charity (actually Hannah) in 3x09, tells him “You never were [lacking].”, or even when she tells him in 4x08 “You really showed up for me, I noticed.” by knowing Kate’s anniversary, giving Nancy the necklace while in his body, supporting her breaking and entering. Those weren’t about doing stuff for her but just being there for her. Him. His presence.
So for Ace to learn she’s some immortal-truth-light-being-thing that’s been reincarnated and has this counterpart connection to the Sin Eater, he's going to think he has no chance against that, right? Of course she’ll choose Tristan. Except Nancy can’t lose him. Nancy is willing to and has risked it all to save him, to be with him, multiple times. He doesn’t think he’s good enough, and yet she chooses him.
Nancy needs to be chosen, too. She feels abandoned by everyone in her life (losing her mom, losing her perceptions of her family/her parents, even losing Lucy to an extent), and she feels that so much is out of her control. Nancy worries that she’s only the worst parts of everyone who came before her, and in light of everything—being a source of light and good, reincarnated throughout time—how much of her life was her choice? Does she solve supernatural mysteries because it’s a connection deep in her bones? In her soul?
She’s prickly and complicated and messy and has walls ten miles high, and she needs someone who will choose her through it all. Ace is that person.
There’s a recurring theme of choice for the two of them across the show. Think about Ace knowing there is a choice beyond something that’s bonded to your soul after his connection with Charity. Think about Ace remaining in Horseshoe Bay and telling Laura “I believe I have a purpose here.” Think about Nancy making the unthinkable choice, but saying “Blind spots, Temperance. I choose this.” Think about Nancy and Ace reading emails that say “I want to be with you. I don’t care what anyone else says.”
Think about Nancy, an Angel of Truth, tied eternally to a Sin Eater, choosing a mortal life. Choosing to be with the man she loves.
Think about her turning away from eternal reincarnation and saying “I face the mystery of this journey with courage because it is with you.” “In this world that tries to silence me the most dangerous words I can speak are that I love you.”
Think about how “it’s always been about love” and Nancy is choosing who she loves, not who she’s connected to through fate.
Love is an action, and love is a choice. Love is putting someone else’s needs first and choosing that person over and over. And really, someone that chooses you is far more romantic than a predestined soulmate anyway.
#nace#nancy drew cw#nancy drew spoilers#cw nancy drew#nancy and ace#nancy drew meta#i need a meta tag#my meta#scarletslippers posts#it’s about CHOICE. it’s about FREE WILL. it’s about CHOOSING WHO YOU LOVE
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hey robyn!! how are u doing?
can you do Hermione x fem!reader when they have a baby? adopted or not, you decide... and reader being wolfstar daughter please
Oh dear merlin we’ve made another one
wife! hermione granger x mom! reader (feat wolfstar dads/grandads)
Summary: Hermione comes home to find her daughter, wife and father-in-laws have had a good day
Warnings: established relationship, wolfstar parents/grandparents
A/n: 0.7k words, hi! I'm good how are you? Their daughter is a toddler/small child rather than a baby I hope thats okay ♡
Navigation | Golden Era Characters Masterlist
Hermione dropped the keys in the small bowl by the door, smiling as she can hear the giggles of her daughter bouncing around the walls. Hanging up her coat and scarf she walks down the hall only to be greeted by your father, Remus, putting his finger to his lips as he hithers for her to follow him quietly
She does as her old professor, now father in law says, creeping slowly towards the door of the living room to see her daughter clapping and giggling at the large black dog sitting with a robin on its snout. She glances up at Remus to see him smiling wide, then back to the scene, watching as your animagus hops over onto your daughter extended hand eruptupting in more happy squeals while the dog lays down next to her, head on her lap and looking delighted at the ear scratches he receives with her free hand
“How long have they been entertaining her like that?” she whispers toward Remus
He chuckles “Well we showed up around 11 so 6/7 hours? Though they did nap together around 2 then eat the soup I gave them before continuing on” he informs her “Not mad are ya?” he checks before joking “He’s had his shots”
She giggles at that “No not at all, especially not when it makes my little pumpkin so happy” she says the last part a little louder gaining yours, Sirius’ and your daughters attention
“Mummy!” she squeals, bouncing on her bum and getting all excited “I’m like the book!” she shines holding you up proudly on her finger
“What book pumpkin?” Hermione walks deeper into the room, kneeling down in front of her while Sirius doesn’t shift back he does walk over to the couch and jump up on it, laying his head on Remus’ lap now he’s taken a seat
“One with the emotional dwarfs” she answers earning laughs from Remus and Hermione, as well as a snuff and tweet they assume are also laughs from you and Sirius
“Snow White, pumpkin?” she leans in and kisses her nose, falling onto her side as she looks down at her daughter, heart feeling whole again now she’s in your presence
Speaking of you, you fly up and land on her shoulder “Hi sweets” she whispers and you muzzle yourself into her cheek to say hi back
“Yeah! Grampa Moons said the muggles made a movie about it” your daughter says with a cheesy grin, a grin everyone knew meant you were all watching it tonight
“Did he now?” Hermione turns back to the man who just shrugs with a wink “Well I don’t know about that you’ll have to ask your cooler mum” Hermione looks towards you, still perched on her shoulder
You hop off and onto floor in front of your wife and daughter, shifting back with a knowing smile at the former
“Can we mum?! Pretty please with cherries on top!”
You melt at her little pout and bright eyes, and despite it being impossible, much like yourself she somehow inherited yours and your fathers puppy eyes
“Since you asked so nicely” you bend down and run your nose against her little one making her giggle and bounce with the sweetest little grin “Dad?” you turn to Remus, smiling as you your other father has now completely taken over his lap in his dog for
“There’s a video shop down the road where we can rent the tape” he answers the question without needing to know “You want to come with us to get it? Leave your mums to get the snacks ready?” he then turns to your daughter
You and Hermione smile as she quickly gets to her feet “Can we take Grampa Pads too!” She asks and that’s what makes your father jump down from the couch and shift back
“What did we discuss little one?” he eyes her with a smirk, pointing a little as he kneels in front of her
“Not to call you a Grandpa because you’re too gorgeous and youthful to be one”
“Ugh” Remus scoffs “Hello” he waved at them while you and Hermione find each others sides, your head falling into her shoulder as you giggle
“Hi” they both wave back in unison, and both wear wicked grins
“Oh dear merlin we’ve made another one” Remus looks towards you and Hermione before pressing his hand to his face and sniggering
Thank you for reading ♡
#hermione granger x reader#hermione granger and reader#hermione granger x you#hermione x reader#hermione and reader#hermione granger#hermione x you#hermione granger fluff#mom reader#mom hermione#golden era#wolfstar daughter#wolfstar x reader#wolfstar#remus lupin#sirius black
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An Addition to Change [Gojo Satoru]
Content: Depressed Reader, Depressed Gojo Satoru, Young Fugshiguro Megumi, Depression, Change, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, AU: No Curses, Not Beta Read
Pronouns: None
Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don't forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!
Direct Continuation of: Tears of the Strongest
Change is something that Satoru did a lot. He changed his clothes, furniture, cars and even house at a whim. Often times, he'd have at least 5 outfit changes in a day, there would be movers in and out the house replacing furniture, he'd come home with a new car and about every 1-2 years you'd be moving to a new place.
And you'd just gone along with it all.
But this?
This was a bit much.
You eyed the child sitting across from you on the large gray couch, brand new, not even a dent in the cushions yet. He had black hair that was sticking up in every direction, violet eyes that bore into your own, unimpressed with...everything it seemed, and a frown that was too old and tired for a child his age.
Your gaze turned to Satoru, who was sitting beside you. He was pointedly looking at his phone, scrolling through social media to avoid both you and the child's stare.
"We can't avoid this Satoru." You began, "Can you please tell me what happened? But be for real this time."
Because "I just found him and it seemed like he needed a home!" is not an explanation at all. Sounds like he kidnapped a child off the streets and you really don't want to get tied up into something like that.
Satoru sighed in that dramatic way that he does, lolling his head away from you. "I told you—"
The child cut him off. "I've been living alone for a while now. He's been bothering me ever since he found out and now I'm here I guess." Satoru glared at him, but nodded along.
"Okay...and what about your guardians?"
"Dead." He replied flatly.
Your heart tightened. That poor baby, to have to navigate the world all by himself and for only he knows how long.
"What's your name?" You asked softly.
"...Megumi."
"Okay, Megumi, what would you like to do? Would you like to go back to where you were or would you rather stay here with us?"
He was quiet for a moment, playing with the sleeves of his jacket before finally answering you. "...I wanna stay here."
You smiled, "Okay, then." then it dropped, "We literally don't have anything for you."
Satoru laughed loudly, snorting while your head swiveled toward. "What are we gonna do?"
He stood, wiping a tear from his eye. "We're gonna go shopping, of course."
And after that shopping trip, you and Megumi vowed to never go shopping with Satoru again.
Mornings were always hard for you. It would either be a rough sleep of tossing and turning or a nightmare that disturbed your sleep to the point of waking up just as tired, if not more than when you went to sleep. So often times you'd lay in bed, fighting between succumbing to sleep or proceeding with living.
But then a small, warm hand landed on your cheek.
"I'm hungry. I would have fed myself, but I don't know where anything is..."
You blinked.
Oh yeah, Megumi.
You were not ready for a change as massive as this one, but you had to get up regardless because now there was a child in your care. So you pulled yourself up and smiled.
"Good morning, Megumi."
Change is something Megumi also did a lot. However, it made sense with him because he was a a child and children were always changing.
His favorite food changed weekly which kept you on your toes and kept you from fretting on what to make anymore.
He was a growing which meant new clothes needed to be bought ever few months (which prompted you to convince Satoru to stop buying him such expensive clothing).
His favorite shows and interests were also ever changing. New toys were bought every week and it was beginning to get harder to hold a conversation with Megumi since he would always be talking about something new (it was worth it though to see that sparkle in his eye when he talked about the things that he enjoyed).
There were a few things that didn't change though.
He still love frogs. He loved going out in the rain to hunt for them, despite usually coming back in empty handed (you had to stop Satoru from having frogs on standby for rainy days).
He also loved dogs which prompted Satoru into getting him two dire wolf dogs (how the hell he got them is beyond you).
He still only tolerated Satoru (that's what he said, but he really was opening up to him).
And he still favored you (you don't think that that will ever change though).
"Thanks for not turning me away..." Megumi told you as his face was just about buried in Shiro's black fur.
Satoru was still changing, but not as materialistically.
Now he was making more of an effort to be home with you and Megumi (he's days were now 9-5, no exception and no more bring work home).
More of an effort to bond with Megumi, who was thankfully warming up to him (he was even able to take him out on their own outings without the day going horrible wrong).
More of an effort to understand your words from before.
He is not the strongest, and that's okay (he did cry a bit when Megumi got sick, however. It was something new and scary for him, so you wouldn't tease him about it...much).
"Thank you for taking such good care of Megumi." His arms wrapped around your waist as his lips brushed against your neck, leaving a trail of kisses. "And thank you for staying by my side all this time."
You also were changing.
You think it's a good thing.
"I love you two so much." Your smile was shy, but your words were genuine. "Thank you so much for being a part of my life and turning this house into a home."
You'll never forget the smiles they gave you. Bright, wide, full of teeth and as warm as a sun beam.
Hopefully, you'll continue to change alongside your boys.
In light of JJK 236 leaks dropping, I wrote this instead of going to sleep. I already was going to write this, but due to me being Apollo's favorite and being fucking prophetic—
Anyway! Here's something to drive the knife in deeper. :)
Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist
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Double Edged
Summary:
“It’s been a long time,” Ratchet murmured, his smile still there but softer, “I’m happy to see you here, finally finding your way.”
Deadlock wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry or scream.
Or, Drift's mtmte origins with Deadlock's cyberverse fate.
AO3 Link
“Aw, scrap,” Hot Rod said as he came to a complete stop in the middle of the hall, helm sweeping left and right. “‘Think I took us down the wrong hall. They really gotta color code this place.” The speedster turned, rubbing the center of his crest sheepishly. “Sorry, Drift, let me just check the map real quick and...”
Deadlock bit down the snarl building in his intake and gave Hot Rod a congenial smile instead, crossing his arms behind his back to hide his tightly clenched fists.
“No worries,” he said, keeping his voice level, pleasant, and absent of the absolute infuriating rage in being made to follow this clueless, imbecile Autobot . He bottled that rage and locked it deep in his chassis, burrowed in his spark, where he always kept it. “Take your time.”
It would not do anyone good to lose it now. Not him, not Megatron and not his mission. Hot Rod was not worth it. Not yet .
Deadlock could withstand the torment of this idiot for the sake of his mission. Infiltrating and spying on the Autobots was far too important to lose his cool over the annoying speedster. He would have to tolerate it and swallow his annoyance. It seemed as though Optimus Prime had insisted on Hot Rod showing Drift around and helping him get acquainted with the assembled crew. Deadlock had hoped it would be Bumblebee. He was equally as stupid and idiotic as Hot Rod, but rather than a misplaced sense of self-importance, Bumblebee was just gratingly friendly. It was marginally more tolerable.
“Okay!” the flamed speedster exclaimed, spoiler perked up high as he clapped his hands together. “I think I figured it out. Wheeljack’s lab should be to the left and the second right.”
No, it is not .
Deadlock swallowed down the correction and, in dismay, followed as Hot Rod continued to lead them down the wrong path, further prolonging this torturous excursion.
He walked a half-step behind, humming in faux interest as Hot Rod rambled aimlessly, pointing out random rooms and features of the Arc as they took the long way to Wheeljack’s lab.
Of course, Deadlock already knew all this information. Soundwave had given him a detailed schematic of the entire ship and each of its levels from the ventilation systems, down to the internal wiring. Deadlock had dedicated himself to memorizing every square micron of it, wasting away cycles prior to his infiltration to catalog every possible detail of importance. He could navigate the entire ship blind, if challenged.
Little did he know, the true challenge would be keeping his glossa pinned down as Hot Rod continuously takes every wrong turn. What was worse was that he doesn’t even seem to realize, too caught up in his blathering about…well, Deadlock wasn’t sure. He had tuned out the annoying Autobot at the beginning of the tour, only keeping his audials online for keywords like end, finished, over.
“So, that about wraps it up.” Another marked key phrase. “Any questions?” Hot Rod grinned at Deadlock with relaxed ease, leaning against the wall almost as if he was trying to strike a pose. Deadlock was not impressed.
“No.” He hoped keeping his answers short and clipped would dissuade further conversation with the pesky Autobot.
“Cool, cool. I think that was everything. And all we have left is medbay. Medics were able to fit you in for a quick check up.”
“Check up?” Deadlock asked, hackles raised as he watched the flashy racer give him a questioning look.
“Well, yeah? We all got to do it. Decepticons not big on overall health?” Hot Rod teased lightly.
Deadlock almost laughed. Almost. He held back the urge and gave Hot Rod a small, defensive shrug. “Not a lot of medics to begin with.” And the medics they did have had no right to call themselves medical professionals . He was thankful that his time with the Decepticons had left him fairly unscathed. Any injuries he had he took care of privately. He’d seen Shockwave’s work with Shadow Striker and didn’t relish the idea of a similar fate. He’d rather have himself offlined.
Hot Rod at least had the decency to wince, dropping his smile for something more stricken.
“Ah right. Well, it should go pretty quick. It’s just an intake so unless you got anything hiding under the plating, Ratchet will be done with you in less than twenty kliks.”
Deadlock froze, brakes hard locking without him even thinking. His engine stalled, optics blown wide.
“Ratchet?” There was a slight quiver to his voice.
That name wasn’t on the intel reports. That name wasn’t on the crew manifest. That name wasn’t on any document he had received in his mission file. Soundwave wasn’t sloppy . A complete afthole, yes , but missing this information? Deadlock felt acid crawling up his intake as panic seared through his lines.
“Yeah, he’s our chief medic. ‘Decided to join at the last minute so it's been a bit of a mess around here,” Hot Rod waved off, still walking ahead without realizing Deadlock had stopped at all. “Big ol’ crankshaft but he knows what he’s doing. He’s put everyone on this ship back together at least three times over so what he lacks in personality he makes up for it there I guess.”
Hot Rod turned, blinking as he saw Deadlock still rooted in his spot fifteen paces back.
“Oh, I guess you’ve heard about Ratch before? I can guarantee whatever the Decepticon reports say about him are over-exaggerated. He’s much more boring than that.”
That…that wasn’t it. Not by a long shot. But Deadlock took the blessed out and gave a shaky nod of his helm. He didn’t trust himself to speak, afraid of what would come out if he opened his mouth.
“Well, come on,” Hot Rod waved him along. “The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get it over with.” As Deadlock fell into step with him, Hot Rod dropped his voice. “Don’t tell anyone, but I get a little lightheaded whenever Ratchet takes out the needles.”
Needles were the least of his worries. Comically so. Deadlock had no fear of any medicinal treatment he may receive, but rather who was administering it.
The walk to the medbay was horrifically short. Like a cruel curse, somehow Hot Rod took the shortest, simplest route. It was as if fate wanted to test Deadlock, to jeopardize his mission, his faith, his spark.
All that time, all that energy. Deadlock had spent weeks agonizing over his mission. He had perfected everything down to the finest detail. He’d spent grueling cycles studying and memorizing every bit of intel he could grab his hands on. (He knew how Prowl liked his energon and spent a whole cycle learning about meteor surfing just in case Hot Rod brought it up.) He had gotten repainted, stripping back the accented black for shiny, bright white. It felt almost…foreign to be back to his default factory paint after so many years without it. It was crisp, clean, stark in a way it had never been when he had lived on the streets of the Dead End.
He even adopted his old name. Drift . That had been…challenging. There was still the knee jerk response to bare his teeth and snap whenever anyone addressed him as such. He had gone through so much effort to rebuild himself, to shed off the tainted and stained plating of his past to go right back to it.
But it was temporary. It was for his mission. He had been chosen . Hand selected and deemed the best choice by Megatron himself. Not Starscream, not Shockwave, not even Soundwave. Deadlock was the mech to earn Megatron’s complete and utter trust with this mission and he’d be damned if he did not execute it to absolute perfection.
Even if he meant he’d have to face the ghost of his past. Even if it meant he’d have to see-
Deadlock took a steadying breath as Hot Rod came to a stop.
“And here we are,” Hot Rod gestured to a set of heavy, white doors. “We’ll be in and out in no time.”
He gave Deadlock no time to speak as he palmed the entry.
The doors to the medbay opened, blasting with them a cool gust of air. Hot Rod waltzed in before the doors were even fully opened. Willing himself to get this over with, Deadlock followed quickly behind, optics immediately scanning the room for red and white and-
“Hot Rod, I told you not to barge in here while I’m working.”
He sounded the same. Still gruff, still bitter, still masking affection under a frown. Deadlock felt his spark drop as he saw the medic turn away from his console to glare down at Hot Rod, only to spot Deadlock instead.
“Is that any way to speak in front of your new patient? At least try to make a good impression,” Hot Rod faux gasped, servo over his spark. “Here I was being nice and escorting Drift to his appointment and-”
“Save it,” Ratchet cut him off with a short hand gesture. “We both know you’ve been talking off the poor mech’s audial for the past several breems. Go. I’ll send him your way once our check up is done.”
Hot Rod gave Ratchet a big grin before spinning on his pede. He clapped Deadlock on the shoulder on his way out. “Don’t let Hatchet scare ya. He’s not that mean. All bark, not bite. I’ll meet you in the mess hall. ‘Think you remember the way.”
Deadlock found his vocalizer unwilling to cooperate and settled for a nod of his helm.
He turned to watch Hot Rod go, the flashy speedster transforming as soon as he crossed the threshold and bolted off with an obnoxious rev of his engine.
Behind him, Ratchet tutted. “Whatever you do here, don’t follow Hot Rod’s example unless you want to be on Optimus and Prowl’s list.”
His vocalizer still refused to online, stunted by being alone with Ratchet for the first time in…so long. Deadlock gave another quick nod and Ratchet snorted. It was an ugly sound, but Deadlock found himself repeating it in his helm as Ratchet waved him forward.
“‘Going to start with your measurements and a general scan. Stand here and don’t move around too much.”
Deadlock moved automatically. His limbs felt stiff, like they would lock up again at any moment, but he managed to make his way across the medbay to stand on the small raised platform Ratchet directed him to.
“Keep your arms by your sides while the scan is in process. You’ll feel a slight tickling sensation.”
Bright white light cascaded down his frame. Deadlock kept rigidly still. He could feel the tickling sensation Ratchet mentioned but it was nothing. He had been forced to withstand far more painful and cruel torment without so much as a flinch. Ratchet seemed to notice this and gave a small appraising hum. That made Deadlock shiver, the sound rolling down his plating.
“You can step off now,” Ratchet waved him forward, shutting off the scan.
He held his hand out and Deadlock stared. When he didn’t take it, Ratchet simply let his servo drop as he moved to grab the datapad anchored to the scanner.
Deadlock quietly moved, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. He stared at Ratchet, unsure what else to do. Silence was usually his friend, it's how he managed to keep himself safe in the midst of the Decepticon’s constant infighting. Here, it only served to exaggerate the quiet of the room. It made him feel twitchy.
He wondered if it was as uncomfortable for Ratchet as it was for him. That would be assuming Ratchet even recognized him. It didn’t even hit him until that moment there was a chance Ratchet wouldn’t even recognize him.
It was not a surprising revelation but it was disquieting nevertheless.
“Have a seat, Drift.”
The same instinct to correct the name was surprisingly absent.
Deadlock sat on the medslab, servos anchored to his knees as he watched Ratchet comb through the readings of the scan. His optics drifted across the screen, denta pinching his glossa as he poured all his focus onto his work. It was so simple and yet so mesmerizing, Deadlock didn’t realize he was staring until Ratchet looked up and made eye contact with him.
Deadlock thought maybe now recognition would finally make its way to Ratchet’s face. But the medic’s gaze was as neutral as it always had been. Ratchet turned back to his datapad.
A…confusing mixture of disappointment and sorrow curled at the base of Deadlock’s throat.
He…doesn’t remember me.
That should be a good thing. It would make his mission easier, it would make everything easier. But it…hurt. Deadlock was surprised to feel it. The stabbing pain in his chest hurt so much he brought up a hand to rub at it, looking down and away from Ratchet. It took away the sharp sting in his spark, but the ache was still there.
He should be happy Drift was forgotten. He had put so much effort in trying to forget it himself. It’s what he had wanted . He had stripped his name, discarded his past, worked to etch himself into something new, and valuable, and special. He’d thrown it all away…except for that one night in Rodion. It was the one thing he couldn’t rid himself of.
He had always known that night had meant everything to him and was just…passing words for a tired, charitable medic. But Drift- Deadlock had always wondered if maybe, just maybe, it had stuck with Ratchet.
Evidently not.
Deadlock kept his helm bowed as Ratchet finished reading his scan. A sharp click of the datapad being set down clued him that Ratchet was done. There shouldn’t be anything on that scan. Shockwave had given him a tormentingly thorough examination before they sent him on his mission. The scan then had been clean; there shouldn’t be anything. All he wanted was to be dismissed so he could find his quarters and hide out for the rest of the cycle. The real work could begin tomorrow, the real mission could start then. He just needed a moment to lick his wounds and-
“So,” Ratchet spoke, his voice absent of the gruff bite he had given to Hot Rod, “still have that cable kink in the knee. ‘Thought you would have gotten that sorted out when you got your armor refitted.”
Deadlock snapped his helm up as he met Ratchet’s amused face. The medic let out a low chuckle, his smile crooked in a way Deadlock wanted to trace with his fingers over and over and over again.
“Hi Drift,” Ratchet said, his name spoken with a warmth Deadlock hadn’t heard in years. It was spoken with remembrance, fondness.
“You…remember?”
“I’m not that old, don’t let Hot Rod convince you otherwise.” Ratchet rolled his optics before they settled back on Deadlock, kind in the same way they had been all those years ago. “Of course, I remember.”
The pain in Deadlock’s chest melted away. This was where the disappointment and bitterness should step in. This was where the worry that his mission would go sideways should sink in. And yet, he felt light, lighter than he had been in so many years.
“I,” Deadlock hesitated, his words low and quiet, “I remember you too.”
Ratchet let out a small snort as he set a palm on Deadlock’s shoulder. In that moment, all Deadlock could see was a Ratchet from before, holding Drift in the same spot, in the same way.
“It’s been a long time,” Ratchet murmured, his smile still there but softer, “I’m happy to see you here, finally finding your way.”
Deadlock wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry or scream. He had found his way. He finally had found a place for himself, respected and loved and it has nothing to do with this ruse . Megatron trusted him and handpicked him for this position that no one else could ever think to achieve. He had found his way! He had! Ratchet would one day see the scope of that and…
Ratchet gave him a pat on the knee to signal he could get up. A small, warm smile was on the medic’s face as if he were genuinely happy to have Drift here. Deadlock stood on wobbly knees, his center of gravity off-centered despite being in top notch health. If Ratchet noticed, he didn’t say anything. He simply put a warm hand on the Deadlock’s back to steady him.
“Thanks,” Deadlock muttered, unable to look at Ratchet and his too kind, undeserved smile.
Ratchet won’t be smiling like that when he learns the truth. He won’t be offering Deadlock any warmth, any kindness. Deadlock…was not sure what that would look like. He’d never thought to picture Ratchet angry or upset or horrified. Any time the images tried to appear, he forced them away, choosing instead to think about distant worlds far, far away from the reality in which he would lose Ratchet’s trust. He didn’t want to know what it would look like.
He knew he shouldn’t even care. He knew his mission was to destroy the autobots and any friendships made here were false.
He couldn’t deny the small part of himself that wanted to live in his bubble a little longer. That wanted to live in a pocket of space where he and Ratchet weren’t on opposite sides and…well he wasn’t even sure what they could do.
Talk?
Deadlock had imagined it countless times, curled in his bunk in the Decepticon barracks running through the simulations of just meeting Ratchet again. His simulations were always tenuous and painful. Ratchet’s disappointment was scathing even in the realm of fantasy. Only a few times had the simulations been positive, when Deadlock tried to imagine a universe where they could just talk.
Where Ratchet would smile at him and be proud of him and see the potential he had seen in Drift all those years ago in the shady clinic in the Dead End come to fruition. To see that Ratchet had been right, had seen him and understood his potential when no one else could. That they could talk and talk and talk and maybe Ratchet would laugh at one of his jokes and maybe Ratchet would tell him stories of before the war. And maybe Ratchet would admit that he had thought of Dri-Deadlock too. The words wouldn’t be too dissimilar to the ones he had said just now. And then Deadlock could smile back at him and mean it when he said-
“Me too,” Deadlock spoke to the floor, his mouth moving without his permission. Ratchet rubbed his thumb across the base of Deadlock’s neck. He shuttered his optics to memorize the touch before adding, “I’m happy to be here. To see you.”
It wasn’t even a lie, despite the guilt that curled around the base of his intake, threatening to make him purge.
He left as soon as the nausea passed. He threw away the urge to even attempt thinking of an outcome that didn’t end with Ratchet’s disappointment.
It’s been a long time.
Deadlock struggled to clear his vents as the acid waste washed over him, Hot Rod’s digits digging into his plating and dragging him down down down. His intake was crushed; he scratched and clawed at Hot Rod’s arms to no avail.
Hot Rod was dying, and he was taking Deadlock with him. This was the end. And what an end it was.
Deadlock fought weakly against Hot Rod, desperately grasping for something . He couldn’t die here. He couldn’t die now . He had so much to do, so much he never got to do. So much he failed to do.
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. How things were supposed to end. How a nothing leaker from the Dead End became…a nothing Decepticon…in the acid wastes beneath Autobot scum. A nothing. A failure. A disgrace.
No one would weep for him.
Not Megatron or any other Decepticon. Certainly not any Autobot. No one would mourn the loss of a failure, of a traitor. No one would care, no matter what name they called him. Deadlock or Drift, discarded and forgotten. Just like before. Just like always.
Not even Ratchet would mourn. Why would he? Deadlock had only ever disappointed him, only ever hurt him, only ever lied even when he was trying not to. He would not deserve Ratchet’s sympathies. He wouldn’t even deserve his pity.
But as the acid stripped away his paint, peeling away the white then the black and then the white again, Deadlock still hoped that maybe Ratchet would feel saddened by his death. Not as a failure, not as a traitor, but as that lost mech he had met all those years ago, brains fried out on circuit boosters and looking for someone to save him.
No one was going to save him now. Not Ratchet, not the Decepticons, not some misplaced divinity. No one.
I’m happy to see you here,
Are you still happy, Ratchet? What does that feel like? Why can I never feel that?
Deadlock had hoped once, long long ago, that he would be able to.
In Dead End it had been Gasket that brought him comfort and the closest thing to happiness. They shared each other’s warmth as they whispered together into the night. They talked about the future, stupid dreams and made-up realities that could never be. Gasket wanted to find a planet with no one on it, where he could be alone and safe and free. At the time, it had been easy enough to copy that dream.
Ratchet had given him hope- not just hope, but trust, and faith, and belief that he could be more. That Drift could be more. That he was special, that he deserved more than what the world and society had spat at him. He didn’t have to follow the will of others, but make his own. Make his own future, his own dreams, his own happiness. It was the first time anyone had looked him in the eyes and seen more than a dirty little syphonist.
He had thought about those words ever since. He thought about them every cycle, whispering them in the dark, tracing his fingers where Ratchet had rested his hand. It still felt warm and Drift knew that was what happiness had to feel like.
The Decepticons didn’t do happiness. It hadn’t taken Dri- Deadlock long to put that together. But that was okay; power and security were close enough that it didn’t matter. He wasn’t starving. He wasn’t aching. He wasn’t fighting just to find a place to recharge. He had a home and responsibility. He was trusted and valued and praised and-
He was not happy with the Autobots. It was all fake, manufactured, false. Every stupid joke of Hot Rod’s Deadlock laughed at while shaking his helm fondly . Every nod of approval from Perceptor or pat on the back from Grimlock or weary smile from Arcee. It was all lies, all of it.
And Ratchet. Those…those were lies too…
Every brief passing from the medic, always taking a moment- nothing more than a few nanokliks -to say hello, to give Drift a small smile and ask him Have you settled in well? Keeping out of trouble? Heard you took a tumble, want me to check out that knee joint?
Every meeting, Deadlock shuffled as close as he could dare, to stand side by side as they listened to Optimus or Prowl or whoever . It never mattered. Deadlock would record everything for Megatron, but his focus was always on the medic. So close, yet still thousands and thousands of leagues away.
Every quiet morning cycle, when Deadlock would get up early just for a chance, a quiet chance, to refuel with Ratchet, exchange pleasantries and smiles. Rarely did they speak beyond that. Deadlock wasn’t sure what they could talk about but he wanted it. He wanted it so bad it made his spark hurt and his teeth ache. He wanted Ratchet to see him, to hear him, to understand him. Like he had back then. But asking for more was unwise. Expecting anything would only make his betrayal more painful.
None of these moments were truly noteworthy, but each one was categorically recorded, replayed in the deep, dark of the recharge cycle as he ignored the twisting pain in his chest that reminded him this wasn’t real. None of this got to be real. Soon enough it would all turn to ash and destruction, soon enough Drift would be dead once again and Deadlock would be watching every single Autobot burn, burn, burn.
finally finding your way.
Was this how it was supposed to turn out? Was this his destiny? How was choking on acid any better than rusting to death in Dead End while he fried his brains out.
Deadlock felt his arms lock up as his energy seeped away, acid corroding his lines and making him immobile. How was this fair? How was this just? How…how come there was no happy end for him?
Deadlock let his optics shutter close, refusing Hot Rod’s face to be the last thing he saw.
Instead, he drew up memories: the bright lights of a medslab in Rodion, with a gruff medic telling him to keep living, to keep going, that he was special .
He let his processor, in its delirium, take him back to familiar dreams and fantasies. Long ago, he had stopped co-opting Gasket’s dreams. In truth, they never fit him anyway. He never wanted to be alone. Safety, freedom and happiness meant nothing to him if he didn’t have anyone with him. In forming his own dream, it had been so easy, so simple, to put others around him.
Those faces changed all the time, but Ratchet’s was always there. Sometimes he even felt bold enough to put Ratchet beside him, standing together as equals. In his dreams, it was okay to reach across the distance. In his dreams, he never had to think this was impossible.
In his dreams, they were together, far away from Cybertron and the war and the pain and the suffering. Far away, in a spaceship not too dissimilar to the arc, charted for the unknown with no factions, no fighting, no war. Ratchet was always there, by his side, in the quiet way the medic always was in his off hours.
In his dreams, Ratchet still called him Drift and there was no bitter sting in hearing it. In his dreams, they just sat together.
And maybe, if he was lucky, they could talk.
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Hey D. How are you doing today, my dude?
Wait, what? Your goldfish died? 😐 I didn't even know you had a goldfish, D... What was it's name?
Goldie? Well... I mean, it's a goldfish, so apt I imagine.
Oh, bud. Don't cry. You'll be alright. It'll take some time, but you'll work through this. And I'm here for you every step of the way. 😚
Yes, we can go and bury Goldie. And have a wake. Sure, sure... I'll get all the boys round and we'll all celebrate Goldie the Goldfish and the incredible eight day life that he led... Would you like that?
Today, Dieter and I are going to be talking about a rather heavy subject, coping with loss. This will include talking about bereavement, as well as other types of loss. Including aquatic fish, apparently.
⭐️ We have two special guests (here's your clues as to who they are: 🤠 & 💪🏻) here to help us today explain how loss has affected them, and how they are moving forward.
☝🏻If you'd rather skip this week's Self-Care with Dieter & Jett because of the subject matter, we completely understand. And if you're currently trying to come to terms with a loss, of any kind, we're sending you our utmost love.
But we hope that this post can help offer some comfort, and a smile, if you need it.
One thing we all have in common, no matter where we come from or where we are in our lives, is that at some point, we will all experience some form of loss.
No D, I'm not talking about losing your keys... again. I told you to put them on the damn hook. 🙄
Loss comes in many forms. It can be the breakdown of a relationship, a friendship, losing a pet or a loved one in their passing. It can also be the loss of some sense of yourself too.
No matter what the loss, we feel it irrevocably and it's something that will always stay with us. When it happens, it can feel like it'll be a mountain that we'll never peak. We can't imagine how we can find the strength to carry on without them.
It can feel like our grief will never subside.
But Dieter and I are here to tell you today, with the help of two special guests, that you can, and will, get through it.
You won't fully move on as such, and anyone that tells you that you will, is probably offering some unhelpful advice or may not have experienced a loss yet themselves. The last thing you want to hear when you're dealing with grief is for someone to tell you "you'll be okay."
Ultimately you will, but hearing it whilst you're grieving isn't helpful to some.
Most people want someone who they can share their feelings with, to talk about the good things. Someone to help navigate through the practical things that come with dealing with a loss. Someone to just hold their hand and sit with them quietly. Some people just want to be left alone.
Grief is such a personal journey, we all deal with it differently. And there's no right or wrong way on how to transition through that journey, but the important thing to try and remember is that you will move forward through it, even if it doesn't feel like it.
And to show yourself some kindness.
But what is grief exactly and why do we feel it?
Grief is our natural reaction to loss. To losing something or someone we hold very dear. It's an emotional response triggered by that loss.
Grief can be difficult and stressful to navigate, and nearly everybody goes through it at some point in their lives. Despite this, it can be very difficult to predict how we might react to a loss, as it's a very individual process.
But everyone will go through the seven stages of grief.
The Seven Stages of Grief
The stages of the grieving process include shock, denial, guilt, anger & bargaining, depression, testing, and acceptance. However, people don't always go through the process in this particular order, and some steps last longer than the others.
The grieving process is not linear, it is different for us all, but each stage is something you will go through, even if you're unconscious to it.
Shock
When you first find out about the passing of a loved one, your initial reaction might be shock or complete disbelief. You’re not quite in denial, you just can’t even begin to compartmentalise what has just happened. This is a defence mechanism that is designed to protect you from pain.
This stage can explain why we can plan a funeral or make other arrangements immediately after a death - you’re in a state of suspension until you're able to grieve.
Denial
While denial shares similarities to disbelief, it is its own coping mechanism and also helps you to deal with grief and pain. You might simply deny that your loved one is gone, or push the thoughts out of your head. Some people can get stuck in a pathological and chronic state of denial and refuse to admit that anything bad has happened too.
Guilt
Guilt can feel like a punch to the gut. It’s completely normal to wonder what you could have done to prevent the loss from happening. Even if you had no control over it.
Anger & Bargaining
This stage usually occurs after the ceremonies and funerals, for example. The comforting family and friends have left you to be alone, and you’re trying to go about your life as usual. That’s often when the anger comes in, and bargaining as well.
You might start to feel angry at the doctors, or another party, and perhaps even at your loved one themselves for passing. This anger can often cause a person to feel even more guilt, but know that it is entirely normal, and provides a necessary emotional release.
In some cases, people begin to ‘bargain’ mentally, even though they know it's in vain. For example, “I would do anything to have them back.”
Depression
Now that you have fully acknowledged the loss, it is common to experience depression and/or a deep sadness. You may also feel lonely and isolated from other loved ones. This can be an especially poignant time to seek the help and guidance of a grief counsellor who can help you through the pain.
Testing
By this time, you may still find yourself moving up and down the ladder, but are building a new life without your loved one and living a ‘new normal.’ The hurt may feel raw and painful, but you now know that you cannot change the situation.
Though you may not be fully ready to accept it, you know that life has to go on.
Acceptance
The final stage is acceptance. You have worked through the most painful and difficult work of grieving, and you accept that your loved one is gone and that you need to continue living your life.
Although the grief will always be with you to some degree, acceptance helps you make space for it rather than allowing it to control you anymore.
How The Pedro Boys deal with grief
Today, two of the Pedro Boys have offered to share their stories on grief, so that you can better understand the stages of it, and perhaps may even recognise some of them in your own journey.
Jack's Story 🤠
Jack, my darling. Thank you so much for taking the time to talk with me today.
Aww, you're welcome, sugar. Anything for you, Jett.
Thank you. May I ask about your sweetheart? Can you tell our friends about what happened and how it's affected you, if you're comfortable to?
Sure, sweet thing. You see now, my sweetheart and I we were high school lovers. She was the prettiest darn thing. I knew in my heart I just had to sweep her off her feet from the moment I laid eyes on her.
I bet you did just that.
You know it, darlin'. hearts n' flowers. The whole she-bang. Hoo! She couldn't stand me at first, you know that?
I find that hard to believe, Jack.
Well aren't you just a peach, Jett. Got me blushin' something hard over here. We were lab partners and I was a persistent bastard and not that much good at science. Well, now biology I understand... that's my kind of language! She told me she liked that about me, that I never gave up.
She liked the chase?
We both did. She was a shy little thing and I was, well, just me. Dumb and eager to show her some loving the proper way. I knew she liked me too. She'd had this little smile just for me, and it made me feel all kinds of something.
Well, you're hard to resist, Jack.
You ever been wooed by a cowboy, Jett?
Can't say that I have.
We might have to change that...
Easy now.
I'm just sayin'. You look like you could do with some cowboy in ya. Now who's blushing?
Carry on with the story, handsome.
Well alrighty. I took her to the dance and we just fell for each other in a big ol' way. I suppose you could call it serendipity. Either way she was the love of my life. Oh, you should have seen how hard I fell. Damn fool. My heart was beatin' faster than August rain on a hot tin roof!
That sounds beautiful.
It was. She was somethin' kinda special. Y'all know what happened. And if you don't, I'll break it down for ya nice and simple. She was caught in the crossfire of a robbery whilst out grocery shopping. She was pregnant at the time with my boy.
I'm so sorry, Jack. That must've been so hard for you.
One of the hardest things I've ever had to endure. Harder than catching a knife in a lasso. Did I ever show you that?
You did.
Right, right.
So, how did you cope with your grief?
I didn't. Not really. I don't think you ever cope, darlin'. I hit the bottle, hard. I was so fuckin' angry. Christ, I wanted to tear up the world n' everyone in it, believe me. Kinda lost my way there for a bit.
How did you find your way back?
Statesman pulled me in. Threw myself into work mostly. Just got myself through. Kept on keepin' on. The Boys picked me up too. Had a nice circle to console me. But it was hard. I felt so angry for a long time.
Did you blame yourself?
Absolutely I did! I was the one who sent her to the damned store in the first place. If only I had gone myself earlier that day, y'know? She'd still be here. We'd be together raising our son. But she insisted. She wanted to do it. It's a cruel fate, darlin'.
And how have you processed your anger, and moved forward, do you think?
I'm still working through it. Some days are easier than others. I guess you could say that time is a healer. She's always there, in my heart. She ain't ever gonna leave it. But I know that I can be happy again, I know that she'd want that for me.
She absolutely would, Jack.
It's been a number of years now, and the pain doesn't hurt as much as it used to. It's still there, will be all my life, but I can tune it out now. And that helps some.
I'm glad. You deserve to be happy. Thank you for sharing your story with me, Jack.
Oh, anytime. I'm always fetching to converse with you, Jett. Say, have you ever been to a Rodeo?
No.
Well you might let me take you some time. I reckon you'll learn a thing or two about riding...
Is that so?
Absolutely. I can guarantee you a buck wild night, sugar.
Get out of here, cowboy.
You n' me, darlin' Name the time.
Marcus' Story 💪🏻
Marcus. Sweetheart. Thank you so much for talking with me today.
That's alright, querida. I wanted to help you out. I'm kind of nervous though...
Please don't be. All our friends here love you very much. You're our resident hero!
That's really nice to hear.
So, Marcus, can you start by telling us a little about your wife? Anything that you're comfortable with sharing?
Yes. Of course. Urm, she and I were friends at first, we met through the Heroics Initiative Programme when it was still a fledgling idea. She wasn't a Heroic, but she worked there. We felt an instant attraction to one another. Almost chemically. I was so shy to talk to her, my palms would sweat so much. It made using my powers difficult sometimes...
I imagine that was inconvenient.
Embarrassing too! I was such a giddy fool around her and would always drop my Katanas!
Oh wow!
Yeah. She used to tease me for it. I loved that about her. She was never intimidated by my powers. I know I'm a Heroic, but she made me feel invincible.
That's really sweet, Marcus. I can see she meant so much to you.
We were married for a couple of years before we brought our first house together, and then Missy was born. I...
Are you alright, lovely? Do you need to stop?
No, I'm alright. Talking about it really helps actually.
It really does, doesn't it?
Yeah. Cathartic. It helps keep the memories alive, all the good ones. And that's important.
I think sometimes people, when grieving, think that they'll be a nuisance or a burden wanting to talk about their loss. Like, they don't want to bring anyone else down, you know?
I understand. I think that's normal to feel that way, Jett. But I've found that both Missy and I can share that bond better when we talk about her openly. She's still very much a part of our lives. And talking it over is really a good way at working through it. It helps you process and come to terms with it.
Missy was young when she passed, right?
Yeah, so young. There are things that she doesn't remember about the illness and I'm so grateful for that, it was really hard in the last few days especially. But, there are also pieces of her mom she'll never know too. Like how her eyes would sparkle over something that excited her. Things that only I got to experience.
Is that something you share with Missy?
Yes, all the time. Our collective grief enables us to reminisce and share our personal memories and love for her together. She's got to know her mom through me. I think it's made Missy and I stronger as a family unit. I love her so much. I'm so proud of her. And I know her mom would be too.
Your daughter is lucky to have you as a father, Marcus.
Oh, Jett. Thank you.
So, what about you? How have you worked through your grief?
One day at a time. I had to keep going because I had Missy. One foot in front of the other, right?
Absolutely.
So many people depended on me; the world was literally on my shoulder's most days. I won't sugar coat it, it was really hard. I felt like I wasn't coping, like I was failing at everything. I needed her so much to ground me, and she wasn't here anymore. It was real tough for a while. But I think that got me through. And my mamá. She's been an absolute rock. For both of us.
I'm glad to hear you have love around you. What does life look like for you now?
It's good, really good. I'm allowing myself to enjoy life and not hold back. I think my wife would want that for me.
She absolutely would.
Can I tell you something?
Sure.
I have a date this weekend for the first time in years. Can you believe that?
Marcus! You kept that quiet, that's amazing!
Isn't it? I'm so nervous though! Do you... do you think you could help me out?
Sure! What do you need, sweetie?
Can you help me pick out a new shirt at the store? It's been a while since I've had to make an effort, you know? And I could really use your opinion. Joel says you have great taste.
Joel is correct. I do. Finally got that man wearing something else other than flannel.
He looks better for it.
Right?! That's what I said, but you know Joel... grumpy bastard. Oh, Marcus! Your date is just going to love you. I'm so happy for you!
Thanks, Jett. Really.
I want all the details though... You call me right afterwards, you hear? Tell me EVERYTHING!
I promise.
So D, both Jack and Marcus there were able to kindly share their own experiences of grief and how they've worked through it.
Do you have any more of your own experiences of loss, you want to share with us today, Dieter?
No? Well, that's okay, bud.
Many people deal with loss differently. And it's okay not to want to talk about it right away, but you know I'm always here, right? 🥰
Good. Now, today's been a bit of a heavy one, hasn't it? Why don't we go and do something fun together?
Anything you want... you name it. How does that sound?
Well, I left myself wide open for that, didn't I? Okay. Fine. I mean, I did say anything... 🫣
Dieter and I hope you know that if you're currently coping through a loss, no matter what it is, you are not alone. Please surround yourself with love, there will be people in you life that can help you through this. And we're sending you big love too. 🖤
Here are some helpful links, in case you want to know more 👇🏻
Bereavement Service UK
Bereavement Service US
Coping with Grief - Different examples of Loss
20 ways to take care of yourself whilst grieving
Until next time folks, stay kind & stay creamy. 🖤
YOU. ARE. STRONGER. THAN. YOU. THINK. 🖤
Do you. Then do Dieter.
More Dieter & Jett love here.
ℹ️ Dieter and I always strive to bring you unbiased, fact-checked advice. We're not licensed therapists, so we do a lot of research to ensure we can provide helpful and informative posts. Well, I do. Dieter mostly sits around eating KitKats.
#self care with dieter & jett#dieter bravo#pedro pascal#agent whiskey#marcus moreno#pedro pascal characters#self care#tw bereavement#tw loss#you are stronger than you think#do you#then do dieter#jett's pedro boys
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