#two lonely kids starved of love
Note
i love love love yuuji and mean! reader bc deep down i know yuuji has her in the palm of his hand he just don't know it yet
can we get more of them plsss, like how the other (nobara, megumi, gojo) react to their relationship?
𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈
[cws] reader is gn. megumi is married and has a kid.
Gojo thinks it’s funny, as well as a tad bit adorable, to watch the way Yuji stares at you with clear adoration while you fuss, huff and occasionally throw a mildly insulting name his way.
He’s always shown his affection for his friends through a bit of teasing and chiding, and while he can admit that you lack the smiles and laughs that he would don while doing the ribbing, he can still see that you actually care about Yuji, way more than you actually let on.
You two are nearly finished with your studies, almost full fledged sorcerers, and yet you still bicker like you did when you were both first years, but there’s an underlying sense of love and care beneath it all.
~
“Oh, I forgot my lunch on the counter again.” Yuji deflates, and Gojo rocks back in his chair, lollipop rolling around in his mouth as his eyes crinkle in amusement under his mask.
“Of course you did.” Your eyes roll as you plop yourself down into the seat next to him, annoyance clear on your face as you place your own prepared lunch in front of you. “You always do, despite me reminding you every night to grab it before you leave.”
“How am I supposed to remember that? Won’t you reminder me in the morning, instead.”
“Do I look like a slave to you? Remind yourself!” You begin to unpack your lunch, and Gojo takes note of just how much you’ve packed. You’ve always had a healthy appetite, but it’s clear to even the blindest of men that you’ve packed enough to feed two. He grins around the stick in his mouth.
Yuji pouts, even bringing out the puppy eyes, and Gojo gives himself a mental pat on the back for teaching his student so well.
“Oh, I’m soo hungry.”
“Good. Maybe if you starve a bit then you’ll remember to bring your lunch next time.” You coolly reply, making a show of bringing a forkful of noodles to your mouth and moaning in satisfaction.
“You’re so cruel! I’m your boyfriend — be nice to me!” You two throw jabs back and forth, and Gojo is once again glad that all his relationships seem to fall flat past the ‘talking stage’ - once the other person starts trying to dig their way past all the superficial crap and get down to the core of Satoru Gojo. One person had been successful in making that far, and as far as he was concerned, they’d be the one and only person to ever see that part of him.
When Gojo lets his attention drift back to the two of you, he quietly tsks when he sees that you’ve passed a fork, because of course you brought two, to Yuji, along with three containers of food all containing his favorites.
Yuji is beaming, grin on his face as peppers kisses all over your cheeks, and you give him a blank look and weakly try to push his back, but Gojo can practically hear your heart stutter from where he’s sat at the front of the class.
“Ah, young love! You two really know how to make a man feel lonely.”
“Then maybe you should get out and go find someone to cure that loneliness and leave us alone.”
“This is my classroom, y’know.”
“So?”
“This is why no one has recommended you for promotion.”
++
Nobara and Megumi don’t really know how to react to the two of you. They like Yuji, and they like you, but they would have never pegged the two of you as a couple.
They had thought it was a joke when Yuji announced his crush on you, and had thought nothing about it when he talked about eventually asking you out. You ragged on everyone, but it seemed like you reserved most of it for Yuji.
They were sure you were only tolerating him to keep the peace, and even if Yuji was serious about his crush on you, there’d be no way that you’d actually reciprocate the feelings. Nobara had even planned to take charge of the damage control when you inevitably let Yuji down in the meanest way possible.
So imagine their surprise when the two of you had come strolling into class together one day, Yuji’s hand clutching onto yours for dear life as he looked at you as if you had personally breathed life into him and gave him the gift of free will.
Even now, years later, while they attend your rehearsal dinner for your wedding, they find it hard to believe that the person wearing a scowl on their face and avoiding their boyfriend’s advances has stayed this long.
“Hey, Megumi,” Nobara calls, champagne flute clutched between her fingers as she takes a sip, eyes not leaving the way Yuji tries, and fails, to plant a kiss on your cheek. You narrow your eyes at him, the cake knife that had been in your hand suddenly aimed at him as he lets out a loud laugh. “Should we be worried that this marriage will end in a breaking news segment?”
Megumi follows her gaze, head lightly shaking, before focusing his attention on the babbling toddler sitting in his lap. He pinches off a piece of cake from his slice before offering it to the little boy. “If they didn’t kill him when Sukuna popped out and let his in-laws know the real reason why their soon-to-be-married kid was walking funny, I’m sure he’s more than in the clear now.” Nobara snorts, recalling how you had called her enraged and on the verge of tears as you explained how Sukuna had blurted out the night they had and ruined Christmas dinner.
“Guess you’re right.” She looks back towards the two of you, and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise when she sees the complete 180 that you two have taken. The dull knife that had been branded is displaced somewhere, your hands now linked with Yuji’s, diamond rings sparkling together, and there’s a soft, almost bashful, look on your face as he brings your hand up to his mouth and presses a kiss to the ring on your finger.
He smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Nobara sees a matching one spread across your face before he’s swooping down to finally get his first kiss of the night.
“Bleugh.” She dramatically sticks out her tongue, Megumi’s son erupting into a fit of laughter, and slouches in her chair. “I can’t believe you two idiots tied the knot before me—and you even had a kid.”
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For me, Shadow and Amy's dynamic is basically two different types of touch starved in a person
((If any of the gifs on this post aren’t loading for you on mobile--like they aren’t for me--you can download them or check the sources listed. As for desktop, they play just fine, but they won’t line up next to each other like they do on mobile. Tumblr is a comedy of errors.))
Yes! Absolutely. I’ve seen tons of fans say Shadow is prickly and would respond badly to hugs, but canon says otherwise. This is a bad reaction:
[Sonic 06]
Whenever I feel like being sad, I wonder if Bad-Future-06 Silver has ever been hugged.
This is a bad reaction:
[Sonic Unleashed, gif source.]
And I shouldn’t have to say this, but...yeah. These are very bad reactions:
[Sonic X]
[Sonic Generations]
Yikes. I feel bad for both of them.
But this?
[Sonic Adventure 2, gif source.]
This is Shadow’s only canonical hug in the games, and aside from jumping slightly from being snuck up on, he seems to like it just fine.
Just look at that smile! He’s happy. He finds it endearing.
It was a hug from a complete stranger meant for someone else, but he still drank it in--and, given that he’d effectively just lost Maria, he really did need it. It’s the combination of Amy’s gentleness AND her speech that changed his mind. After all, if someone as sweet as her sees something in the humans, maybe they’re not so bad.
My buddy who runs @shadowxamyweek recently reblogged a post about this hug, and their tags sum it up perfectly:
[ID: A screenshot of tags on a post. The tags read:
#official art #4kids #shadow the hedgehog #amy rose #YEAH 😭 #listen I read nothing that has happened with them in SA2 as shippy - and i ship them #THIS HUG? THR SPEECH ON THE ARK? #those are two lonely kids #those are two left behind kids #those are two kids so desperate for affection #for two vastly different reasons #Amy loves with her whole chest and will never stop doing so- no matter what happens #and Shadow does too- that is key to remember- Shadow loves... so fucking much... that it hurts #you are RIGHT op when you say this is probably the first time someone has been gentle with him in a long long time #he doesn't even run away #in the game- when Amy flees- he takes a step after her- a moment's hesitation- a 'wait' #this kid NEEDED a hug #and i firmly believe part of the reason Shadow listens to Amy in the end is BECAUSE she is the only person who showed him gentleness #softness and kindness and affection #if only for a moment #fjdodhdofjgor THIS is what i mean when i say 'be gentle- be kind' #it MATTERS #it FUCKING MATTERS
End ID]
Shadow doesn’t hate hugs inherently; it’s just that no one hugs him in the first place...
...aside from one person.
Amy’s easily the most affectionate character in the cast. It’s cute at first glance, but there’s a common thread to every instance that puts a damper on it.
She’s always, ALWAYS the initiator.
She puts more into each hug than anyone else does.
She’s always the last to pull away.
The most reciprocated Amy hug I know of in canon is this one:
[IDW Sonic issue #22]
Which is absolutely adorable...but Amy still initiated. Because it’s always her job. Even the characters who like affection don’t need it the way she does...with one exception.
And this tiny detail just killed me. The little, “wait, come back 😟”
It’s the only time I know of when someone has actually stepped after her like this. In a game where everyone left Amy behind, he wanted to follow her. Mister so-called-prickly didn’t want the hug to end.
Because he’s the only one who needs it as much as she does.
He wants to be held as much as she wants to hold someone else, and no one else is warm and sincere enough for it. Compare these instances:
[IDW issue #6]
Sonic thinks Shadow is wrong about something, so he grabs Shadow’s arm to stop him, and Shadow aggressively wrenches it away and leaves.
[Archie Sonic Universe #23]
But when Amy thinks Shadow is wrong about something and grabs his arm to stop him, he gently removes her hand and thinks about what she has to say.
Even when he doesn’t want to be touched, he makes the distinction between “don’t touch me” and “not right now, please.” These are from two different continuities, of course, but I think the point stands. Amy’s special. He’s gentler with her than he is with other people, and that’s consistent across all canons.
Side note: how often does Amy get to feel special like that? I actually really like that Sonic doesn’t place others in a hierarchy of importance, and I wouldn’t change that about him even if I could...
[IDW issue #2]
...but Amy does play favorites. I want her to feel like she’s someone else’s favorite, too. I want her to have someone who puts her first and likes her best. I think Shadow’s more than capable of that. I believe he craves clinginess like hers deep down, even if he hasn’t consciously figured that out yet.
I have an entire tag for these two being affectionate. My favorite is probably this one.
Of course, there may be those who say I’m reading too much into one (1) hug. And you know what? Maybe they’re right! We need a bigger sample size. Sega, make more characters hug Shadow, please. Let Rouge comfort him after he confides in her about something. Have Omega give him an awkward metal embrace because he read on the internet that organic beings like that kind of thing. Make Shadow himself pull Silver into a hug when he’s breaking down crying from the stress of always having to be a hero. Show Tails accidentally grab onto him out of fear when they’re trapped in a lightning storm, and when he gets embarrassed and pulls away, have Shadow hold him for the rest of the storm and admit he’s not fond of bright lights, either.
[Sonic Boom]
That scene where Shadow and Amy rescue Cream and Cheese from Cryptic Castle? That easily could’ve turned into a cute group hug.
[Shadow the Hedgehog (2005)]
And I have seen some absolutely adorable fanart where he holds Cream’s hand while he and Amy lead her through Cryptic Castle to make sure she doesn’t get lost 🥺
Have Knuckles give him an empathetic bro-pat on the shoulder when he finds out Shadow’s the last one of his race, too.
[Archie Sonic Universe #89]
Have Sonic try to hug him, and then when Shadow inevitably pushes him away and says he doesn’t do hugs, have Amy arrive and latch onto Shadow instead while he tries to stutter out an excuse as to why she’s allowed to and Sonic isn’t.
The most affection Shadow has in recent history is stuff like this...
youtube
[Sonic Prime season 2 episode 1]
...where Sonic tries to hug him and Shadow immediately pushes him away, knocks him over, and tries to punch him in the face. Kind of says it all. Amy stands out as the only one with a good track record here.
[IDW issue #36]
Especially when you have him look at her like this when someone else is on the receiving end of that affection.
So in the absence of further evidence, I have no choice but to interpret this in the most Shadamy way possible. Your move, Sega.
#shadamy#amy rose#shadow the hedgehog#not a headcanon#ask#anonymous#what is it with touch starved hedgehogs?#not the first time i've used the previous tag. says a lot about these characters
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Can you write more Dilf!Toji please? 😭 I really appreciate your writing 🫶🏽
★ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐘. + 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
masterlist. / taglist. / any request?
synopsis. you come around and make Toji so tempted, no matter what broad he's bagging all he can think about is you: his fucking nanny .
─── ☆ notes. number one dilf toji defender here, i’m in my Anderson Paak phase as well as i’ve sadly (i know im disappointed too) fallen for a man to the point where this boy has invaded my DREAMS y’all…this is embarrassing and this fic is me coping with having an actual crush so i give you full permission to call me a simp over this .
─── ☆ length. 2.6k (23 mins) .
─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, nanny au, dilf!toji, angsty start, fluff, minor character death, hints of depression, hookups, pining, black coded reader, you got brotha STARVING, megumi and tsumiki are toddlers in this, someone give toji a hug, vent-fic, hurt/comfort, age gap, height difference, it's always Gojo’ fault, masturbation, jealousy | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍
Toji would say that after becoming a parent, he could read body language pretty well. Maybe it was just part of being a single parent and having to detect when your toddlers were sprouting nonsense just to stay up later knowing it was bedtime.
From the times he believed that his little Megumi was being the perfect angel and finally grew out of his tantrum phase.
Only to turn his back and realize that he had used craft scissors to chop a chunk out of Tsumiki’s hair and was playing nice to soften his punishment, to school beatdowns and playing dumb, Toji had decided he was just a master at decoding anyone’s bullshit.
Everyone except for his own that is.
Being a single parent came with its perks, Toji loved his two little demons, and it sort of helped that Tsumiki made the most of her mother's common sense.
But dealing with his ex-wife's abrupt death, being sprung into the life of lone fatherhood, and being a successful businessman were starting to take their toll on him.
His friends were not much help. Sure, Gojo did all he could to be seen as the cool uncle, but leaving his two hyper children with a man that refused to say no to anything that they asked was like signing his children up for their possible deaths.
Geto wasn’t much better, having his own marriage and kids. You would think that the father would grow to have a bit more compassion for the children's safety. Yet every time Tsumiki and Megumi visited their brass uncle, they would always come home with new scars sprouting about how they were practicing wrestling moves with their cousins for the last ice pop.
Waking up to something different, never being able to just fill in the gaps with a routine was starting to become a bit stressful.
Not to mention going to work and having to push himself to his limits, knowing that just because he was friends and business partners with Nanami didn't mean he'd be lenient with him.
All paired with the weight of some bold secretary that he had a one-night stand and never got the clue that every time he would brush her off for paperwork didn't mean he was singling her to cling onto him more. It was bad business hooking up with one of his employees Toji knows.
If anything, the woman had taken him at just the right opportunity when he was at the lowest moment of his life. Right after his wife's death, he had fallen behind on just about everything to the point where he would lean into any sense of comfort that reminded him of that faded memory he wanted to keep dear to his heart.
So there he was after hours with a woman's thigh over his shoulder moaning out his name as if it were a prayer, and he had realized that right after it was all a mistake, which was kind of a shitty thing to note as she was standing right in front of him pulling up her panties.
He just can't do it again, out of respect for her but also for himself. The last thing he wanted to do was entangle himself in another situation that would take more time away from his kids.
Not that he considered the woman to be pestering, but he wasn't a teenager anymore. The last thing he wanted to do was handle his stress by sticking his dick in the first woman he considered attractive, all because he had trouble bottling up all his emotions.
Toji's hatred for all the lingering eyes in the office—sure, Toji thought himself handsome—the proof was the number of relationships he had in his younger days.
There was something wrong with people finding him attractive and wanting something from him when he genuinely felt like his entire world would collapse on top of him if he stopped moving.
As if he stopped overworking himself that he would be like one of those sharks that had to keep swimming or else they would fucking die. It was ironic how stupidly afraid Toji was at the thought of leaving his children alone in the world with both of their parents gone.
It was fear, having that parental fear for something every waking morning worrying every second that something could happen to children all because he could notice one little thing or he hadn't paid enough attention.
Sure, he was being a hovering parent—call it what you want—but Toji would rather be that than a father who would spend his free time sleeping around with several different women. Never wanting to have to explain to his children that none of the women he slept with could compare to the relationship he had with their mother.
So he didn't. No more attachments. No more romantic anything, let alone bringing a woman home.
It was the secretary's fault. She was a beautiful woman with long hair and a cute, petite figure, and she allowed him to fold in any position that he wanted against his desk.
All that just makes Toji feel more guilty, or more worried, as if this choppy relationship that he had with this poor woman, whose name he would always forget yet who would practically scream out his, would just blow up in his face.
What if she wanted something more serious?
What if Nanami found out that he was banging one of the employees?
What if he got fired because he couldn't keep it in his pants?
What if he lost his main source of income and couldn't provide for his kids anymore?
All of those worries were just added stress, crowding his plate until he couldn't carry it anymore, and after a few years of bottling it all up until he couldn't anymore, he finally decided to reach out for help.
Little by little, of course, he would actually tell his friends how he felt when they asked, spend more time letting Megumi and Tsumiki be actual kids, letting them hang out with their friends, and worry just a bit less whenever they would visit their younger cousins at Geto’s place.
He had even accepted Gojo’s idea of hiring a babysitter, but of course, the blonde’s intentions for such an offer were dual-minded.
Thriving on about how he should hire some smoking hot lady, to have some eye candy around the house to fuel some busting fantasies to break his dry spell.
Toji was quick to dismiss that idea for a variety of reasons, one of which was that he had hired you. You were a clumsy young girl who just needed a side hustle to pay for some of your college classes, accepting his twenty-dollar an hour ad despite the fact that it was the lowest pay sandwiched between the obviously more wealthy families looking for someone to look after their kids so they didn't have to on the boogie nanny seeking website.
At first, the idea of leaving his children alone with you was a terrifying thought. The impression that you gave him during the interview was more than enough to fuel his worries after seeing you stumble out of your car and get your jacket in the car door, dense to the point where you had face-planted into his back during the house tour, too busy gawking at the many bathrooms to pay attention to where you were supposed to be walking.
Your genuinely bubbly personality around the children is what saved you from going broke. Sure, you were a little naive when it came to some of the things that you lied about on your resume, but the thing that Toji liked about you was that you just seemed to handle yourself so well despite not knowing at all what you were doing. If anything, he admired how you had managed to keep yourself alive despite running through life so differently than he would.
You were quick to gain his trust, in fact, quicker than anyone has ever in his entire life. He felt his feelings were mostly biased given that his kids had practically attached themselves to you throughout the months of being their nanny.
It was only natural for them to grow so close to you with how much Toji had to work, but what Toji hadn't expected was for you two to form some sort of friendship as well.
It started off pretty odd, with Toji coming home to find you have the kids tucked in for the night and spread out on his living room couch watching so many movies on his HBO Max account that he forgot he even had.
You were a pretty chatty person, and he had learned to notice how you could go from being so silent that he would forget you were even there to the point of talking about anything within your wide range of interests that Toji had never heard of.
In all honesty, Toji loved that about you—how you could introduce him to new things that he hadn't gotten around to understanding all because he was too busy being a workaholic.
His new favorite part about coming home was just to talk to you, or at least listen to your rant about some silly little show, or make him listen to one of the new songs you had become obsessed with.
And before he had known it, Toji actually felt warmth in his household again, all because of some kind-hearted nanny who had managed to break down all of his walls.
It was almost strange how someone so opposite to him, someone so minor, could have managed to make his life change for the better.
And then it got a little bit more strange.
Life had been going so well for him that sometimes those days would just blend together. There would be times at work when he had wished for his entire office building to crumble to dust just so he could get out of work early for the day, but even after those shifts, he would come home to you, and suddenly that swallowing dark hole in his chest would actually start to feel whole again.
He had just gotten so used to using you as his personal happiness dispenser that when you managed to wiggle into his life more and more, he even introduced you to his main group of friends. His mood was ruined when he saw Gojo's eyes practically glow at the sight of you during Tsumiki's birthday party.
Toji hadn't understood why it had bothered him so much, seeing his best friend become too chummy with you.
If anything, knowing Gojo’s history of charming the pants off of any attractive woman, he could have prepared him enough to know that you too would soon enough fall victim to at least one of his friends, but there was just something so uncomfortable about hearing Gojo drown you in compliments.
It was as if something had clicked, and suddenly you weren't just the full-time nanny anymore, but the beautiful young woman that he had suddenly noticed was so pretty, and that alone made Toji feel like such a fucking creep.
Maybe it was because you were closer to his children's age than his or the fact that every time you would change your hair every other month, he would imagine his hands tangled in your braids, how he would think about holding the locs away from your face to get a better view of you between his legs.
It was all so fucked, your now normal image of him all screwed over all because of Gojo and his ability to turn anything sexual. Toji had felt just a little better pinning the blame on someone else, thinking that maybe it would ease his guilt for getting so hard thinking about you late at night.
You would be just downstairs asleep in the living while he laid down on the other side of the house in the comfort of his four walls, pressing his face into his pillows with an erection hard enough that he was convinced it was harder than bricks.
For the first time in a while, it wasn't anything work-related taking up all of his attention, but instead the fucking nanny he hired. The pretty nanny who was in college, who was closer to his children's age than his, the nanny with the glossed lips that he had to hold back from wanting to taste which flavor it was she was wearing now.
His lovely nanny, whom he wished to strip naked piece by piece to pay close attention to every dip and curve in her figure. He wanted you naked as the day you were born, spread across his mattress, lips parting only to say his name and his name only.
It was a dangerous thought, one that often led to Toji revealing himself with a rabbit hole of thoughts about you in any situation his mind could imagine.
It was even more crude—wrapping his hand around his dick and thrusting his hips up into his hand, thinking about the same woman who was just a staircase away, masturbating as if he were a teenage boy and not a man with two kids asleep in just the room across the hall.
He blamed everything on Gojo, it was all his fault that you have suddenly seemed so fucking unforgettable. How could you suddenly be all he could think about with all his sanity thrown out the window for some nanny?
His pretty nanny.
You were so beautiful, with full lips, a dark complexion, and brown eyes that managed to look so appealing despite being so boring. Your expressions make you so easy to read.
The way your brows would pull together whenever you were confused, how the ends of your lips would quirk with every joke, how your personality managed to be so welcoming.
You stood tall, your head just below his shoulder, average height but so short in comparison to his towering figure.
How bad Toji just wanted to scoop you up into his arms and bury his face into your neck, the same neck where he wanted to leave as many marks as he possibly could against your brown skin.
The thought doesn't help Toji’s aching dick at all. How bad he wants to suck little marks into your soft flesh, leaving dark little marks wherever he can against your body.
It was a possessive thought, having you covered in his teeth marks and love bites, waiting for the next guy to dare to even make a move on you.
He wonders how soft your thighs feel and how nice they would feel wrapped around his waist. He lets his hand do the majority of the work, his fingers rough around his length, causing a groan from the friction.
Toji’s fantasies about you play out quite beautifully in his mind, so perfectly, in fact, that he struggles to keep himself silent.
Which was a new thing for him given that Toji wasn’t usually very vocal during sex, not even the best blowjob that he had ever gotten would he give anything but a few grunts yet there he was fisting into his fist to keep himself from whimpering out so pathetically.
Humping his hand to the point where he had to cover his own mouth, he finished all over himself, strings of cum shooting all over his chest to his shirt. He was too caught up in his own bliss to care about the sad mess he created.
Toji thought you were beautiful. He thought you were so perfect to the point where even the simple thought of you made him so happy.
You, his nanny, were the realization that settled in his mind after his high.
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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro smut#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut
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can i request some obsessive Soldier Boy (with female reader), pls? i can't stop thinking about him being obsessed with having a family and after feeling that he lost everything, he meets y/n in The Boys and decides that she's the perfect woman for him and he won't let her go.
All In The Family// I Will Never Stop With You
Description: Soldier Boy loves a good family, yet never had the time to start one. However, when he meets you--that all changes--for better or for worse.
Pairings: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: Soldier Boy is his own warning, language, sexual innuendos towards Hughie, manhandling.
Note: I love this request. Forever be in my heart.
Nothing could have prepared you for the situation at hand. You, a C class supe working with William Butcher and his rag-tag team of misfit toys. Aside from that, was you were currently being stared down by the one hero you never thought you would ever see outside of a poster.
Soldier Boy.
You had been making dinner for the team, when America's #1 supe had planted himself in one of the kitchen chairs that sat in front of the island counter. Turning your head, you could instantly feel his eyes wandering your figure, practically undressing you from where you were standing in front of the oven.
"Do you need something?" you chirped, a smile stretching across your face.
He returned the smirk, his tongue licking his bottom lip as he bit it, stifling a chuckle that rumbled in his chest.
"Mind grabbing me a cold one from the fridge?"
You nodded, moving from the oven to grab him one of the cold beers from the fridge. Realizing as you fiddled around with the things inside that you guys were all out of beer. You plopped back up onto your feet, shutting the door, swiveling around.
"Hate to break it to you honey, but we are out of beer. I can go by the store later and pick some up." You said with a soft giggle.
Soldier Boy shook his head, again giving you a sweet smile, as he continued to watch you cook.
Little things like this is what kept Soldier Boy going for the most part. The last woman he ever had arrangements with were either dead or hated his guts. But you?
You were nice to him.
He listened to you hum while checking on whatever you were baking in the oven. He slowly moved from his seat towards you, as you bent back up to return to the ingredients in the pan. He gently grasped onto your hips, which earned him a louder squeak.
"What on Earth are you doing? I'm cooking." You sheepishly quipped. His hold on your hips was not at all threatening. Pressing his chest into your back, as he swayed.
"Enjoying the moment." Soldier Boy began as you let him hold you.
This was not the first time he did this. You understood that being in the box for four decades left a person touch starved and lonely. And by knowing what kind of person Soldier Boy was you had to admit he was a bit intimidating at first. However, he was just a man with a shield that needed his attention. By all means, a few hugs were not a problem from time to time.
"Y'know you would make a pretty little housewife." You snorted. Leaning up to look at him.
"Would that make you my husband?" You felt his grip tighten around you.
Soldier Boy had always wanted a family of his own. Yet never had the time to fulfill those worldly desires. The thought of you as his wife, and having a few kids was on his mind. Slowly becoming more and more of an obsession. Though the two of you were not together, him pushing his feelings aside, yet he always thought kindly of you. It was the same problem over and over. He was busy, and didn't have the time. Didn't have the guts to say a word to you. Well, until now.
"Absolutely, sweetheart." He put his chin on top of your head, standing there with you against him. Humming while you cooked.
"Does that mean you like me, Soldier Boy?" You joke, pulling away to set the cooked food onto the counter.
"Like is an understatement." He answered dutifully.
"How so?" You replied, turning around to lean up against the counter with him in front of you.
"Sweetheart, it’s been 40 fucking years since I had anything. Never had the time for shit. But now, out of the box, out of whatever fucking mess the Brit and his team of fuckwads have me doing. With Homelander missing...I can slow down and take the time to see that you are one hell of a woman." He raised up a gloved hand to press against your cheek.
"That is sweet and all, Soldier Boy. Do you really think I'm all that? I mean, I am nothing compared to what you had back then-- I'm just..I just pick up litter in the streets and save kittens from trees." You rubbed your arms looking away from him. His hand still on your cheek, he pulled you back to look at him.
"I only see you." He bent down to press a soft kiss on your cheek, rubbing your shoulders.
"In more ways than one." he whispered into your ear before you playfully slapped at his arms.
"You are so gross." You laughed.
"You love it." He chuckled.
"You're not wrong." You stated, patting the hard textured plate of armor he had strapped to his chest.
Soldier Boy lifted you up onto the counter with ease, toying with the hem of the sundress you were wearing. His thoughts running while with all the seemingly domestic ideas that ran amuck.
"I always had thoughts of us like this." He started, but stopped as he turned his head to stare blankly at something in the corner.
"Thoughts like?" You beckoned for him to finish his statement.
"Of you and I. Getting married, popping out a few kids. Nice house away from everyone." You pulled his face to look at you. And you smiled sadly.
"Soldier Boy. It's a bit too soon to start thinking like that with me." You pushed yourself off of the counter and out of his grip to finish making dinner.
"We hardly know each other. I like you-I do, but thoughts like that...a bit fast don't you think?" Soldier Boy bit the inside of his cheek. Not saying a word.
"I'm sorry if that hurt your feelings." You added.
"None taken." with a curt nod you placed the food for dinner onto the table, walking towards the living room to call for the others. Before you could say anything Soldier Boy stopped you.
"Hey."
You stopped, "Yes?" You asked.
"Maybe you aren't ready now. Or in a couple years, whatever. Just know. You're mine." His tone was dangerously low. You gulped down a bit of spit and nodded.
As Soldier Boy watched you disappear into the living room, he again took his seat at the end of the dining table, crossing his legs and folding his hands, amused by himself and what was to become of his future.
His future life with you and the two kids he always wanted to make.
#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy the boys#soldier boy is his own warning#the boys#askmishapoc#answered
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"This face was made for radio!"
Alastor is aro/ace but his love language is touch. Having been abused by his father as a child caused him to have a deep seeded anxiety around touch, and now being a demon most fear being in the presence of, let alone close enough to touch in any way, he often ends up being touch starved since most refuse to be around the demon long enough to build any sort of trust that would lead to any sort of touch.
Despite his lone wolf attitude, Alastor has grown quite attached to Husk and Niffty his closest friends. Although Husk hates the fact that this relationship is based in the fact that he is quite literally bound to the radio demon and Alastor has threatened him on multiple occasions, Alastor still considers himself closest to the gambling man.
He views Niffty as a daughter which is why he seems to be just a bit softer with her in a way in comparison to how he is with the others.
Charlie made the decision that they would all have a ‘family dinner’ every friday night where everyone would take turns cooking, she even made a little chart to remind everyone whose turn it was to cook….. Alastor, was quite upset to find that he was the only one excluded from this chart because everyone was afraid his… “unique” taste was a bit too different from theirs given his cannibalistic tendencies.
Although Husk has a deep anger toward the man who owns his soul, he gave Alastor his night to cook for this family dinner after seeing how upset he was given that he was excluded from the cooking chart. Alastor was absolutely over the moon when he got the chance to cook for everyone.
He gravitates toward women that remind him of his mother. Even as an aroace man, he finds that they have a comforting aura and they remind him a lot of home, though he would never admit that to anyone.
Rosie was his first friend in hell and he hated being away from her during his seven year “sabbatical”. The second he came back, he went straight to Cannibal Town to see her, bringing flowers and dinner for the both of them so they could catch up over a nice meal.
Alastor has Husk contracted to him to serve drinks mostly…. But funnily enough, Alastor doesn’t drink very much anymore. A glass of wine or two every now and then, but he’s put most of his drinking days behind him and prefers tea for the most part.
Being quite the mama’s boy when he was living, he still celebrates his mother’s birthday and mothers day despite the fact that his mom isn’t in hell with him. On her birthday, he bakes her favorite cake, and on mothers day, he makes her a card like he used to as a kid even though he knows that he can’t give it to her, while he allows the cake to be eaten, he has a box full of cards he’s made for her over the years in his room hidden in his closet.
Husk, Niffty, and Rosie are the only people who he’s ever talked to about his parents. The radio demon has spent nights crying to Rosie about missing his mother and the home he grew up in, and he’s shown Niffty the photo he keeps of his mother and him from his time in the human world and shown her cleaning tricks his mother taught him…
Though when he’s spoken to Husk about his parents, it was more like the two of them comparing how shitty their fathers were rather than Alastor talking about how he always thought his mother was a saint. Truthfully, he feels bad about it since he knows his mother was better to him than Husks’s was in most instances and Alastor’s mother always taught him not to brag.
Alastor and Vox used to be friends, but Vox misread their friendship and wanted more. Despite Alastor not wanting to end their friendship, it got weird after he rejected Vox’s advances and Vox got pissy because he hadn’t realized that the rejection had nothing to do with him but rather that Alastor just didn’t really have those feelings for anyone.Vox chose violence, and Alastor didn’t turn down the fight, leading to a feud that just continued to spiral into their current rivalry.
Although he hates the “noisy picture box”, Alastor and Rosie have little sleepovers at Rosie’s home in Cannibal Town where they often watch Hella Novelas together and trash talk the characters.
Alastor became a radio host before he became a cannibal.
His first cannibal meal was a horribly cooked rack of ribs that was served to him at a party after befriending a man who he thought jokingly said he ate other people….. But despite being overly cooked in the worst ways, it was still the best rack of ribs he had ever tasted.
Soon after his arrival in hell, Alastor published the #1 best selling cannibal cookbook in Hell by the title of “Friends For Dinner”. followed soon after by his other three cannibal cookbooks “Nice to (M)Eat You”, “101 Bloody Good Dessert Recipes”, and “Eat Your Heart Out: Valentines Recipes & Breakup Pick Me Ups”. And yes, Rosie has signed copies of each book displayed in her store.
#fizziepop thoughts#vivziepop#hazbin hotel#hazbin headcanons#alastor the radio demon#the radio demon#husk hazbin hotel#niffty hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel rosie#cannibal town#alastor absolutely has his own line of cookbooks#the radio demon is really a chef#chefs kiss
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A Place To Call Home: After Shocks
Summary: The reader is feeling guilty after doubting her parents after the stunt her birth parents pulled. But with her parents going away to film a new project soon, the only solution may be for her to go with them for some much needed bonding...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader
Word Count: 11,100ish
Warnings: language, angst, fluff
A/N: This one takes place directly after Long, Long Time!
________
“Y/N.” You felt TJ behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close. “What do you need right now?”
You smiled to yourself, closing your eyes. For every bad thing that’d happened in your life, you were still amazed at how lucky you were to have found someone that loved you wholly. He was still the one person that you’d never once doubted cared for you, never struggled with sharing the dark parts of your past.
There were things you’d only told him even, the details behind vague statements to your parents. Yet he stayed and never complained about what being with a person with scars was like. It’d be so much easier for him to have found a normal girl, so much less for him to worry about.
“I probably would have wound up with a not so nice guy if I’d not gone to my parents when I was a teenager. I would have fallen for the first guy that was nice and sweet just so he could get me in bed or worse. I was so fucking starved for attention and love back then. I was so goddamn lonely.”
He squeezed you tighter, tucking his head down so he could burrow his face in your neck, kissing it softly.
“My dad showed me what to look for in a man. My mom too. They taught me how I was supposed to be treated when I was in a relationship.” You opened your eyes, staring out the back window again. “How did I let those assholes make me afraid of my parents? I hate that I pushed them away, TJ. It’s better now but it’s not. I feel so guilty.”
“It’s only been a few days since things got back to normal. Give it some time. Try therapy with them, bring ‘em to a session.”
“Honey, I know exactly what the therapist would say. I had this same conversation when I was in college. I know it’s because I want people to be angry at me when I make a mistake. It’s what I expect. It’s what my childhood taught me, my time in foster care did.”
“Alright,” he said, kissing the side of my head. “So how’d they say to not feel guilty back then?”
“They suggested I spend time with them so I could understand that my guilt had no basis. That they loved me no matter what and that’s what the whole unconditional thing meant. It’s not bad to get afraid. It’s human and we shouldn’t be ashamed of being afraid.”
“So go spend some time with your parents,” he said.
“I spend too much time with them already,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut as he spun you around in his hold. “Other people our age-”
“I don’t give a fuck about other people our age. Our family lives around the corner and frankly, I hope they always do. I love them. I enjoy their company. Honey, I can promise you that having a close, loving family is a good thing. Allie and Colin? They fucking adore their grandparents. They regularly get to see their aunts and uncle. We have amazing family friends they get to grow up with. Those two kids are never, ever, going to doubt they they are loved and supported. You and I could die tomorrow and I know those two will turn out amazing. I promise you, we will never spend too much time with our family.”
“I worry you think I’m too needy sometimes,” you whispered, meeting his gaze. His face was gentle, short black hair still damp from his shower. “But I’ve never doubted you. I just don’t want to put too much on you. I don’t want to take away time that should be yours.”
“Oh you sweet, silly, adorable, idiot,” he chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear, letting his finger trail down the side of your throat. “We have forever together. I know how lucky I am to spend as much time as I do with you. My job is flexible and only getting more with time. And you? You’re turning set design into a career now. What couple our age gets to spend so much of our time together? Believe me, I’m greedy to be with you as much as I can be but I am more than happy to share you with our family.”
He cupped your cheek, smiling while he gently stroked over your cheekbone. “Give spending some extra time with them a shot for me. Okay, silly goose?”
“Where did I find you?” you whispered, nuzzling into his chest.
“Orientation. I was the boy awkwardly staring at you for so long you asked if I had heatstroke.” You laughed at the memory of him just blank faced, sweating in the boiling summer heat as you stood with your orientation packet and attempted to find your parents in the crowd. You thought he was from out of state with the way he was dripping and offered him some water while finding him some shade to hide beneath.
By the time he’d gotten his words back, you’d realized he was there on his own. No family to help him move in, find buildings, buy books. It wasn’t a conscious thought back then but you knew that ache of loneliness. Even people who came from homes with parents could feel like they were by themselves.
“Lucky for me you took pity on me and instead of thinking I was a creeper, you showed me which line to get my packet from and pointed out where buildings were on maps and all of it. I was in love with you before I even knew your name.”
“Thomas,” you said, cheeks flushing. “Don’t be cute when I was feeling crappy five minutes ago.”
“Ah, but that’s my favorite thing to do,” he teased, kissing the tip of your nose. “Now off you go.”
“To where?” you laughed, TJ walking you over to the front door.
“To your parents, silly. It’s only nine and we both know they don’t sleep until late. Go hang for a bit, talk to them about being together more. Me and my perky butt will be waiting here for you when you get back.”
“Okay, well that’s just cruel to put that image in my mind and then send me away,” you said as he bent down and slipped a pair of sneakers on your feet. He looked up through his lashes, putting on a sultry smile. “TJ! Stop turning me on!”
“Don’t blame me for you being stunning,” he said, rising to his feet and pecking a kiss to your lips. “Drive over for me.”
“Okay,” you said. “What are you planning on doing in the meantime?”
“Check on the munchkins, play a video game, lay in bed in my birthday suit to greet you when you get back.”
“Just don’t scar the children for life,” you laughed, feeling a gentle pat on your ass. TJ ushered you to go when you nearly dragged him towards the bedroom and finally you were out the door. Two minutes later, you were walking into your parents house, the place pretty dark. JJ was at a graduation party and spending the night there. The twins were up in the family room watching an old movie with the lights off, totally engrossed with it. You figured your parents were on their private balcony and headed for their room.
“Oh fuck!” you shouted when you saw way more of your father than you ever wanted to. You quickly slammed the door and stood outside the room, pacing away as you shook your head. “Nope. Nope. Nope. I didn’t see that. I did not see that.”
The door opened after a moment, your mom slipping out in a pair of joggers and a silky black pajama shirt.
“I am so sorry, honey. I thought dad locked the door,” she said as you kept walking, shaking your head. “Are you okay?”
“Was he giving you a fucking naked lap dance?” you said, a coy smile on her face as she shrugged. “Mom!”
“Oh, you’ve seen his ass before when you watched The Boys,” she said.
“I knew that was going to happen! And I saw a whole lot more than just ass,” you said, shivering your whole body as the twins came down from their movie.
“I remember when I walked in on them,” said your brother, wearing a shit eating grin as you groaned. “Dad’s got a huge-”
“I don’t need a reminder!” you said, your dad clearing his throat as he came out in a pair of sweatpants and gray t-shirt.
“Things going okay out here?” he asked, forcing a smile.
“Talking about your apparently huge dick,” said Arrow. Your mom couldn’t help but laugh as your dad groaned, the twins starting to giggle. “What? It’s the truth.”
“While I normally appreciate how open we are as a family, I mean this in the nicest way, we are never bringing this topic up again,” said your dad with a sigh. “Go finish your movie and for the love of god never talk about this again.”
Your mom was still laughing, earning a small headlock from him. “It’s your fault you didn’t lock the door!”
“Yes, I know,” he groaned, letting her go and standing in front of you with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for scaring you for life, kiddo.”
“It’s fine,” you sighed, crossing your arms. “In terms of traumatizing events, this ranks pretty low for me. Besides, mom told me when I started having sex with TJ about your sex life.”
His head whipped around and she held up her hands. “Hey. She had questions and I answered them.”
“I wouldn’t have told her how big…you know,” he grumbled.
“I didn’t. I just said above average is nice!”
“As much fun as this conversation is, I’d like to repress this memory if possible so I’m going to let you guys continue with your magic mike moment-”
You heard the twins howl in laughter, your dad storming past you and over towards the stairs.
“You two start high school in the fall and guess what talk we’re having tomorrow?” he said. They both groaned for a moment before you heard noise again, your dad wiping his hand over his face.
“They both know what sex is,” you said, his eyes wide. “I gave them both the talk like years ago.”
“You did?” they both asked.
“Yeah. I gave it to all of them. It’s a lot easier for big sis to tell you than mom and dad, especially when dad makes talking about sex so freaking awkward,” you said, cocking your head.
“Well, thank you,” he said, nodding once. “And if that’s something you want to discuss, then we can.”
“I’m good. I just enjoy torturing you in return for the trauma I endured tonight,” you said with a smile. Your mom giggled as he pushed you both into the bedroom, closing the door behind himself.
“Well the mood is gone so what’s up?” he asked as you sat very specifically not on the bed and wandered over to the large window out back. You spun on your heels, both of them watching with concerned eyes.
“I…have been feeling guilty about doubting you guys that you’d hurt me like the sperm and egg donor did and…I’d like to try that thing we did when I was younger and spending more time with you guys helped…if that’s cool,” you said, biting your bottom lip.
“Honey, of course you can hang out with us more often,” said your mom. She wrapped you up in a hug, letting you melt into her. “Dad and I were talking earlier and hoping we could steal some time with you. We missed you.”
“I missed you guys too,” you said, feeling your dad come up behind you and hug you, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“You don’t have anything to feel guilty about,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.
“I know I shouldn’t but I know I hurt you both and that’s something I have to deal with.”
“It hurts more knowing how much you hurt yourself for being human, kiddo,” he said.
“I know how scared you were that I’d stop-“
“You didn’t stop loving us,” he said. “You were afraid and sometimes, your kids get scared. It’s that simple.”
You nodded, enjoying being squished between them, a calm feeling settling in your bones.
“There she is,” he murmured as he felt you relax. “Better?”
“Yeah,” you said. Your mom tugged you over to the bed, your eyebrows raising.
“It’s clean, I promise.” She slid into her side of the bed, tugging you down in the middle as your dad moved in on your other side. “So we could watch a movie, play a game-“
“Guys,” you said. “It’s okay. You had other plans-“
“And now our plans are to spend time with you,” said your dad, throwing his arm over your shoulders, tucking you into his side. You glanced up, frowning at the deep worry in his eyes. “Honey, you never have to ask us to be with you like you’re some kind of bother. Please know that.”
“You know me,” you said, your mom scooting closer, taking one of your hands in hers. “Can I maybe, I know how this is going to sound-“
“Y/N. Ask like we’re your mom and dad, not strangers,” said your mom.
“I know that too. I’m a little shaky I guess,” you breathed out, both of them holding your closer. “Can we spend more time together, like one on one? Like make a night or something for us like we did when I was younger? That really helped me back then and TJ thinks it’ll help now too.”
“Knew there was a reason I loved that boy,” said your mom. “Of course we can do that.”
You felt your dad stiffen though, your head turning up. He looked sad, pouting almost.
“You have to go away for a project soon, don’t you,” you said quietly.
“Oh no,” said your mom, her hand leaving yours, both of them covering her mouth. “We both have to for two weeks starting on Tuesday. Daddy’s gone for over a month.”
“JJ was going to be in charge and we were going to come home on the weekends but-“
“You have work. I understand.” Still, tears prickled in the corner of your eyes. Why’d you have to be so stupid and push them away for the past month? Now they were both going to be gone.
“Come with us.” Your dad turned your cheek to face him, wiping away a stray droplet before it could fall. “We need to be together again for a little bit. Come to the project with us for two weeks and then you can decide to stay with me or go home with mom but either way you got at least one of us.”
“That’s a long time to be away from Allie and Colin,” you said, biting your bottom lip. “But I know TJ can handle it. I need to talk to him first. I can’t make that kind of decision on my own.”
“We understand. Trust me. Dad and I have had a lot of those conversations over the years.” You already knew TJ would tell you to go and have fun. But you’d never spent more than a few days away from the kids.
“The little one’s will survive. Give ‘em a call and facetime them everyday and it helps. Believe me, nothing beats a hug from them when you’ve been gone for a few weeks,” said your dad. “They’ve dealt with TJ being gone for a week for work before. They’ll be alright if you choose to go.”
“I know they would. It’s me I don’t know about,” you said, closing your eyes. “Let me talk to TJ and I’ll give you guys an answer in the morning.”
“Whatever you want to do. We can always hang out when we get back too,” he said, kissing your temple. “So can I interest you ladies in a game of Mario Kart?”
Three days later you were walking into an upscale cabin you were sharing with your parents, most of the other cabins at the unique little hotel filled with cast and crew for the movie your parents were making. They were producing it and your dad was starring as the main character. You’d done the set design on it nearly a year prior and while you’d forgotten most of the story, you were excited to see one of your sets in person. Plus you hadn’t seen your dad on a film set in more than a few years and knew seeing him act in person was a rare treat.
After you ditched your bags in the spare bedroom, you changed and met up with your parents for a pre-shoot dinner they were hosting at a restaurant in town with the cast and some of the higher ups. While the dinner was fun, you were tired from traveling all the way to Vancouver all day. You ducked outside to give TJ a quick call but were reluctant to go back inside and have to be social again when you were exhausted.
“Hey,” said a woman around your age if you had to guess, her hair silky and tied back in a loose ponytail, a black floral tank top and jeans on. “You’re Y/N, right?”
“Uh yeah,” you said, offering her a smile. “You’re Cara Micks. You’re playing Maddie. My parents were really glad they managed to get you. Everybody wants you in their stuff after that indie film.”
“One little Oscar nom and suddenly I’m not surviving off ramen in an apartment with four roommates,” she laughed, nodding her head. “I uh, I’m really glad I got this role, even if it’s not what my agent wanted me to pick. Working with your dad is like a dream come true. He has such a good reputation. I know this’ll be a good set.”
“I can guarantee it’ll be one of the best you ever work on,” you said as she wiped off her forehead.
“Plus it’s a good story. You did the set design, right?” she asked. You hummed, her eyes lighting up. “I got to sneak down and see some of the set mock ups earlier today. They look really cool. I’d love to know more about how that kind of stuff works. If that’s okay. People seem to think I know a lot about this business when I’ve really only done a few gigs before.”
“Well, I’ve never been on a set I’ve designed before so I’m right there with you but I’d happily answer any questions. I’ll leave the acting stuff to my dad though. I can barely tell you what a mark is,” you said, Cara smiling as she closed her eyes. “You good to drive?”
“Yeah, just tired. I’ll see you tomorrow though. Maybe we can grab lunch?” she asked.
“Sure,” you said, Cara handing over her phone. You exchanged numbers and watched her drive off as your parents walked out of the restaurant, others trailing out.
“Ready for bed? We got an early day tomorrow,” said your mom. You hummed and closed your eyes, your dad rubbing your back.
“Come on. Sooner we get back soon you can head to sleep.”
“Oh my god! It’s my basement!” you said, hopping up and down when you walked onto set the next morning.
“And what a lovely torture basement it is, kiddo,” laughed your dad. You walked around the set, poking at the shelves, surprised they actually put the cobblestone walls in. He nudged you when you ran your hands over it, a proud smile on his face. “It does look good. Appreciate the fact you know an old shack would have cobblestone and not cinder blocks.”
“That was the point,” you said, walking around the space, stopping at the chair in the center of the basement. “They even found the same chair!”
“They do tend to make the sets match what’s designed,” he chuckled, following you around set, hands clasped behind his back. “You should do this full-time. Design.”
“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug, watching him take a seat on the wooden steps. You sat down in the chair across from him, resting your chin in your hands. “TJ has great benefits so it’s not like a fear of having to be self-employed or not getting gigs. I could not work and we’d be perfectly fine.”
“If you have a sense of obligation to stay at the brewery-”
“I know I don’t have to,” you said. “The team does all the real work.”
“So what’s keeping you from giving it a shot? I mean,” he said, leaning back on his elbows, kicking his legs out in front of him, “You’ve got more than a few projects under your belt. You have the resume, connections. You can set your own schedule. Granted, yeah, it’s not going to be every single day and there’ll be long days sometime but you’ve already handled that with two small kids and working another job.”
“I know,” you said, his head cocking as he smiled.
“So…” You closed your eyes and sighed.
“My brewery job you gave me. And somehow people always know I’m your daughter, even when I use Hanover in projects. I just…if I do this full time people are going to assume I got the job because of my dad and I’ll never know if it’s because I’m good at it or if a director wants to work with you. You know?” He nodded, smirking as he glanced down at the concrete floor. “You know it’s true.”
“Nepotism is a thing in this industry for sure. But I also am a product of that through grandpa and people he knew. Nepotism gets you in the door as a guest and it’s right to acknowledge that. Talent gets you invited to stay at the party long after all the wannabe’s head home.”
“But I didn’t earn it like someone off the street,” you said. He sighed, running his hand through his hair.
“Cold hard truth? No one knew who the fuck you were when you submitted that first portfolio for your first project. Nobody. I know that because I worked with the director of that project after and he had zero clue you’re my kid. He recommended you to other projects before I came along so you did earn it. You’re right. You’ll never know for sure but you shouldn’t stop because of it. You don’t always have to start in last place to be worthy of earning first.”
“But nepotism is basically cheating your way to first,” you said.
“Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes, it’s a kid who is talented who got in on her own and won’t give herself a break to do something she clearly loves because she thinks it was a gift. Even if it was a gift, take it. Life threw enough shit at you. Take the nice crap too.”
You pursed your lips, looking around. “You think I’m good at this?”
“Mom and I didn’t approach you to do this project for shits and giggles. We knew you’d do quality work and sure as shit, you did. There are not a lot of sets on this film. Most scenes take place out in the woods so the pieces we do have, they need to be fucking good. And this room doesn’t even have four walls and it’s scary as hell so yeah, I’d say you’re good at this.” He stood up, holding out his hands. “Come on, let’s go check out the rest of the sets.”
“Has anyone seen Cara today?” asked the director, Dave close to lunchtime. You glanced up from where you sat in your dad’s chair, your mom over at the film tent with the other producers.
“She’s still not here?” asked your dad as he walked off set. They’d been filming for a few hours for his scenes at the police station but those were wrapped up, everyone ready to start in the basement once lunch break was over. “That doesn’t seem like her.”
You pulled out your phone and dialed, getting no answer. You tried a few more times and got more of the same.
“This fucking kid,” grumbled Dave, leaning back in his seat. “Can someone get over to her hotel room and tell her to get her ass on set? I don’t care if she was nominated for a fucking Oscar. She pulls any diva shit and I’ll kick her out.”
“She said she was tired last night,” you said, several heads turning your direction. “When we left dinner. She looked a little ill too, like sweaty.”
“Well if she’s sick she’s supposed to call in. She better be fucking dying for not giving notice,” said Dave. You raised your eyebrow at him, Dave giving it right back. “I’m not being dramatic. It’s in her contract what she’s supposed to do if she’s sick.”
“Maybe so but a little common decency doesn’t hurt. You shouldn’t wish for someone to be ‘fucking dying’ because they’re not at work on time,” you shot back. You could feel the eyes on you, most of the nearby crew watching you.
To your surprise Dave nodded, his face relaxing. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. Let’s have someone get over to her place and see what’s going on.”
People dispersed for lunch, your parents holding hands as they stopped at the chair and your dad grabbed his phone.
“Sorry I did that,” you said as you stood. They shared a smile, your dad tucking you under his shoulders as you walked out of the studio.
“We’re not,” said your mom, tilting her head up to your dad. “Remember when she used to be scared of men?”
“You wouldn’t know it with that little display,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. “And you think you’re riding off my reputation in this business. Think again, tall munchkin. Things like that are why people want to work with you.”
“I could have done it privately,” you said with a shrug.
“Don’t take shit on a set. We both did,” said your mom. “It’s nice to know you won’t.”
“Well, what’s the worst that’ll happen? I get fired? So what,” you said.
“We did good,” said your dad, releasing you to high-five your mom. You rolled your eyes and walked ahead, turning around to walk backwards.
“Excuse me but I did good. Y’all were just like…there,” you said, smirking. Both their faces fell and you sighed, stopping in your tracks. “Oh my god, it was a joke! Guys. You two driving me insane as a teenager was incredibly helpful. You definitely did good. Promise.”
“Well,” said your mom with a smile, “It was a team effort.”
“It was,” you said, your dad biting his bottom lip. You spun around and smiled. “It didn’t hurt having a good guy want to be my dad. He set the bar high so I don’t accept shit. I appreciate that.”
You glanced over your shoulder and caught him smiling off to the side, his cheeks a hot pink.
“Dad are you blushing?” you teased. He snapped his attention to you and rolled his eyes, failing to keep his lips from curling up.
“God no. I don’t blush,” he scoffed.
“Sure you don’t,” you said, smiling as you headed for the catering tent. “I forgot you’re a super tough manly man.”
“Damn straight I am,” he said. You shook your head and got in line, looking up when you felt him by your side. “You shouldn’t feel guilty.”
“Dad-” you said quietly as you both stepped forward.
“Your parents hurt us, they hurt you. You didn’t do anything to us. I wouldn’t be strong enough to risk getting hurt by another set of parents let alone believe they love me. I’d be terrified. You’ve always been the strong one in this family, kiddo. You don’t have to say nice things to make me feel better.”
You shook your head, smiling when you looked down. “I don’t say things to you to make you feel better, dad. You or mom. I only say what I believe and genuinely, you made me know what to expect out of men and if they don’t deliver, I’ll let them know about it. I’m not blowing smoke up your ass.”
He smirked, nodding to himself. “You stopped feeling guilty before we even got out here, didn’t you.”
“What can I say? You guys give good pep talks,” you said, feeling your mom hug your waist from behind. “It’s still cool that I came out though right?”
“Don’t ask dumb questions, kiddo,” he chuckled. “Let’s get some lunch and hopefully Cara will be back by then.”
“We have a big problem,” said Dave, stopping by your lunch table about twenty minutes later. Your parents left, leaving the rest of you wondering what was going on. When your lunch break was up, people headed back to their various departments, your dad appearing out of nowhere and giving you a strange look.
“What’s wrong?” you asked.
“Cara has food poisoning it sounds like. The PA that went over found her vomiting. She’s taking her to the hospital to get some fluids in her. Hopefully she’s feeling better later.”
“Oh. Well that’s good,” you said, that strange look still there. “Dad…”
“Technically the scenes we need to film this afternoon are all my coverage. Since Cara’s stunts don’t start until next week, her stunt double and stand in aren’t here yet. But you may have noticed you and Cara share a certain-”
“You want me to fucking double for Cara Micks? Me?” you asked as he smiled.
“You guys are the same height, size. Your hair’s almost the exact same. Literally all you have to do is put on some clothes, sit in a chair with some make up on and make sounds like you’re scared. It’s not going to be hard at all.” You stared at him, his eyes searching yours. “I promise it’s as easy as-”
You crossed your arms and glanced down, kicking at the pavement. “You’re filming the scenes where Ben finds Maddie. Your coverage.”
“Exactly,” he said, voice dropping slightly. “You don’t have to. We can find another woman to I’m sure. I just thought you’re perfect for it already. But you don’t-”
“Dad. It’s not the being a stand in. I don’t mind that,” you said. He cocked his head when you raised yours, sighing deeply. “I’m nervous that…I know that scene. I remember it from the design. Maddie is tied up in a chair in a basement. And I know it’s a film set and it’s safe but…”
You shrugged, smiling wearily.
“House six,” you whispered, his head nodding. “I’m just-”
“I never should have asked,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”
“Dad, no,” you said, grabbing his arm before he could go. You tugged him away between some trailers, letting go when you ran your hand through your hair.
“Tall munchkin, there is no way I would make you do that. I am so sorry I-”
“Stop. Please.” He snapped his lips shut. After a beat you leaned back against a trailer wall, breathing slowly. “Ben’s a cop. House six, that prick was a cop. I need…I don’t know the script that much, only the early parts, if at all. Tell me Ben’s a good guy.”
“He has his rough spots but by the end of the movie, Ben and Maddie are basically father and daughter. It’s a big step for her considering her own father is the one that had her kidnapped and then tried to kill her.” You pursed your lips, his eyes scanning the clouds overhead. “This is going to sound corny as hell but just listen to me for a minute.”
“Okay,” you said as he met your gaze.
“You’re a grown woman. I recognize that and respect it. You can make your own choices, own mistakes, successes. You have a husband and children and I know when you’re in trouble, I’m not the first person you turn to anymore. That’s okay. It’s normal.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and smirked. “But you’re still my little girl. I will always do my best to protect you or I’ll go down swinging in the process. You don’t have to worry about if the character I’m playing is good or bad. I��m your dad. Behind every character is me. And you know me and what I’d do for you.”
You looked away, nodding a few times.
“You don’t have to do this. At all. But understand that I would not allow anything to happen to you if I didn’t believe it was safe. I’ll let you get some bumps and scrapes along the way cause that’s life. But no more scars. Because I told you that night on the road my job is to protect you, that I’ll never hurt you. You know that deep down but you need to hear it out loud sometimes because you get scared.”
You felt him step closer and forced yourself to face him. “What?”
“I will never let anything like what happened in that house happen to you again. Understand?”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he smiled, giving you a hug. “Why don’t you go hang out in my trailer for a bit? It’s going to take a little bit to find someone and start filming again.”
“Well,” you said, his eyebrow raising, “You or mom will be nearby the whole time right?”
“Absolutely,” he said. You shrugged and nodded. “You change your mind?”
“I can do it,” you said. “You sure you can?”
“Me?” he laughed. “What do you mean?”
“You gonna be cool with seeing me with fake blood and stuff?” He cocked his head and smirked.
“Fake blood I can handle,” he said, your mom stopping by the end of the trailer. “She says she good with it.”
“Oh thank you,” she sighed, quickly grabbing your hand and dragging you behind her. “Jensen, you need to change while I get her ready.”
“See you on set, kiddo.”
“Thank you everyone,” called Dave at the end of the day. You stretched out as you stood up from the chair, your dad rubbing your shoulders that had a small ache to them. “That’s a wrap for the day.”
“How you feeling?” asked your dad, massaging the muscles with my force, the ache soothing away.
“That helps,” you said, Dave coming over to you.
“I really do appreciate you filling in for us today, Y/N,” he said.
“It’s no problem. I didn’t have to do much,” you said.
“Well thanks anyways, and for calling me out earlier. I want this to be a fun set.”
“I think I figured that out when dad started carrying me out of the scene upside down,” you laughed, your dad chuckling. “How’s Cara feeling?”
Dave shared a look with your dad, his hands falling away from you. “She still at the hospital?”
“Appendicitis. It fucking popped this afternoon.”
“Shit,” said your dad. “That’s bad.”
“She was being prepped for surgery when it happened, which was good, I guess. They were able to go in fast and clean her up. I was going to drop by in a bit and check up on her.”
“Dee and I’ll go too. Her parents know?”
“On the way but Florida’s pretty far. They won’t be here until around midnight. I’ll see you guys there,” he said when he got pulled away by another producer.
“Can I go?” you asked.
“Sure. Let’s stop by hair and makeup so they can clean you up first.”
The Next Morning
“What do you think they’re going to do?” said the key grip as everyone ate breakfast together. Cara was doing better but she was on strong antibiotics so she didn’t get an infection and her surgery had been more invasive than if her appendix hadn’t burst. All in all, it meant she was on bed rest for a few weeks and looking at a full month before she was going to be cleared for work.
Which wouldn’t have been a big problem if your dad didn’t have a project lined up for six weeks from now.
“There’s no way we can finish on time unless they got in a backfill today,” said Molly, your dad’s PA, slurping down a bowl of oatmeal. “Jensen has two different films he’s supposed to be in once we wrap and they’re big studio ones. No way he’d drop those to finish this late with Cara.”
“Couldn’t they just push until after he does the movies? That’s only a few weeks, really randomly too. He wouldn't be needed every day at those,” you said. The key grip, a very, very tall man named Ivan shook his head.
“Cara’s got a Marvel role she starts prepping for then. By the time both their schedules are free it’s late winter and we can’t film in that, not when the movie takes place in the early fall. So that pushes us back to next summer which a lot of the time means we’re dead in the water.”
“Yup,” said Molly with a sigh. “I liked this job. Your dad’s not a dickhead and I’ve worked with some dickheads before.”
“How hard is it to find another actress though? Couldn’t they call up like the girl that came in second in the auditions?” you asked. They shared a look and you frowned. “I clearly am not in on the gossip.”
“It’s okay. You just got here,” said Molly, slurping up more oatmeal. “Rumor is it took like five months to find someone to play Maddie. No one could pull off the intense moments in the script until they got Cara. It’s an amazing script but damn, the lead actress has to be able to do a fucking lot.”
“What do you mean? How’s that different than any other story?” you asked, Ivan chuckling. “I am so out of the loop.”
“Set designers normally are. We hardly ever see you guys to be fair. But basically Maddie in the story has be vulnerable but funny, a whimpering mess but also frighteningly creepy. Soft but strong. Do a number of fight scenes with grown ass men twice her size. All while running around in the woods most days, freezing her ass off during the many night shoots and being able to not oversell the emotional moments and have it come off as cheesy instead of awesome. It’ll be a miracle to find someone like Cara Micks.”
“Oh. Well that sucks. The movie sounds cool. I really want to see if get made,” you said, your mom ducking into the tent with a smile, waving you over. “I’ll be back guys.”
“Let us know if you find out anything!” said Molly. You gave them a smile and walked out of the tent with your mom, surprised when she was practically jogging away.
“Where are you going?” you laughed, following after, grateful you were in a pair of sneakers and leggings today. She just waved and you followed her into your dad’s trailer, many pairs of eyes on you. Your dad and Dave were there along with the other producers that were on set, the assistant director, the writer and a few other people you didn’t know. “Hi.”
You took the only open seat at the far end of the little couch across from your dad, Dave walking over and squatting down in front of you. “Uh, can someone explain what’s happening?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard we’re a bit fucked without Cara. We can’t film a two lead movie without one of our leads. She’s a hard girl to replace,” said Dave. Your eyes flicked up to your dad, his lips pressed into a thin line. “We would like it if you’d entertain us for a few hours and try to film a few scenes with Jensen. You already did the stand in work yesterday and that was great-”
“I played a barely conscious girl yesterday. I didn’t have to do anything.” You got to your feet and shook your head. “I can’t act let alone replace the girl who almost got an Oscar. I will happily be a stand-in but guys…y’all do realize I’m not related by blood to these guys, right? There is zero chance any acting talent was passed along. I haven’t acted since the fourth grade where I played girl #4. Does that sound like the person you want starring in a freaking movie with him?”
Your dad shrugged. “I think you’re selling yourself short.”
You were wide eyed, mouth dropping. Had he lost his mind?
“You’re very smart. You had a lot of good suggestions during pre-production,” said Dave, taking a seat on the couch.
“Sets. Sets I get. I have a degree in architecture and so does my husband. I know walls and floors and ceilings. This? I have zero fucking clue about acting.” Dave looked at your parents, slowly returning his gaze back to you. “I can’t do it. I’ll ruin your damn movie.”
“Well we can’t film shit without Cara so let us try for two hours. If you’re as shitty as you say you are, then I have no problem telling you that. Let us try to grab a life preserver before we go down with the ship. That’s all we’re asking,” said Dave. You grumbled, putting your back to the room before sighing.
“Fine. But no one get mad at me when I can’t do it, alright?” you said, turning around with a huff.
“Perfect. Get her a script and in hair and make up. Jensen, we’ll give you twenty minutes to rehearse before we’ll try on set.” You were ushered out of the room and twenty later you were back there with a wad of paper in your hand, wearing the same dirty t-shirt, leggings and sneakers you wore in the basement scene yesterday.
“Why the fuck would you volunteer me for this?” you said the second you were in his trailer, your dad snapping his head up from where he sat on the couch with his own papers. “When have I ever expressed an interest in acting? I look like shit. I’m not a bombshell like Cara Micks. I look like damn roadkill. You are insane for thinking I could pull something like this off. Why, why do you think I can do this? What is wrong with you, dad?”
He looked you up and down, a soft smile on his face. “Stop smiling! I’m pissed!”
“You do realize the qualities Maddie has in the movie are all ones you have, don’t you? You can do it because you have done it. And don’t tell me you can’t act,” he scoffed. You threw up your hands, dropping your papers.
“Of course I can’t fucking act! Why on earth would you think I can?” you said. He walked over in front of you, crossing his arms and staring you down. “What is wrong with you? I can’t-”
“You can act with the best of them.” You could only stare with wide eyes, growing angrier at the smug expression on his face.
“Stop saying that!” you shot back. “Why would you make me do this? I’m going to humiliate myself and you and mom and-”
He started to laugh and you’d had enough. You turned to leave, his hands gently catching your shoulders. You swore your eye was twitching when you faced him, that stupid smile still there.
“Oh, kiddo. I watched you put on a class act for months when you first came to us. Before that? Acted your ass off in those shitty foster homes. Acted your ass off when you put in anonymous calls to get the truly awful ones shut down. Pretended it was all okay to those monsters faces when it was eating you up inside. Even with your birth parents you pretended to be perfect for them.” He got in your face, tilting his head ever so slightly. “You can act and it’s like I told you yesterday. You’re safe here. So trust me to keep you safe and you can act when your damn survival doesn’t depend on it for the first time in your life. Trust me, it’s going to be a hell of a lot easier than the last time you acted.”
You frowned, growling as he leaned back. “Has anyone ever told you how irritating it is that you always have a fucking point?”
“I recall being told once or twice by a certain munchkin,” he chuckled, picking up the papers and handing them over. “Oh and Y/N? You are beautiful, even with that bruised makeup on your face. Believe me.”
“Dad. You have to say that.”
“Hm, no I don’t,” he laughed, taking a seat. “You don’t know how many death glares I’ve handed out over the years. Plus your husband never shuts up about how pretty you are.”
“Don’t make me smile. I’m still annoyed with you,” you said, sitting down at his kitchenette table, fixing your pages. “Do I have to have this memorized?”
“Let’s just practice a few times and go from there.”
Two Weeks Later
It was quiet out. Then again it normally was at two in the morning. You sipped on your thermos of hot coffee while the crew took a short break. You passed it to your dad beside you, the two of you sat in front of a fire in the forest. Above you was a clearing in the sky, so many stars out in the deep wilderness.
“You’re happy.” You glanced to your right, the shadows dancing across his face.
“Yeah,” you whispered, looking back up at the sky. “It’s so pretty here.”
“I’m really glad I get to do this with you,” he said quietly.
“Me too.” You took the thermos back from him, taking another sip. You were both quiet, watching the flames in front of you. He wore a long sleeve henley while you were still in your t shirt and leggings. But at least tonight you got to wear his warm flannel between takes. Until he’d give it to you in the scene at least. You set the thermos behind the log where it’d be hidden from view when they turned the cameras back on in a few minutes, catching your dad close his eyes. “Dad. Don’t fall asleep.”
“I’m not sleeping. Just happy.” You hummed, connecting the stars in the sky, trying to find the big dipper. “Kiddo?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s to the left of that branch.” You spotted him with eyes open, darting around as they made connections.
“I used to sit outside when I was a kid and stare at the stars. No one ever bothered me when I did that,” you said, pointing out the little dipper to him. “Always seemed so peaceful up there.”
“Did you find a little peace down here?” You nodded, laughing quietly. “What’s so funny?”
“You wonder where I get it from,” you said, shaking your head. “You want to be told you’re loved as much as I do.”
“I suppose I do,” he said, the heat of his gaze on you.
“Yeah, I found my peace down here. Don’t think I ever told him the night of my seventeenth birthday was the first time I slept through the night in a decade. I got my peace a very long time ago, just was afraid of losing it.”
“Afraid anymore?” he whispered. You shook your head, catching Orion far off on the other side of the clearing.
“No. No one can take my peace away from me ever again.” He shifted closer, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “This is the longest I’ve ever been away from TJ since we’ve been together.”
He hummed, breathing softly.
“How do you stand being away from mom for weeks at a time?” He crossed his arms, smiling to himself.
“Why do you think I’d fly all night just to see her and you guys for half a day? We know how to make long distance work. Our whole relationship has always had an element of it. But getting a hug when you get home eases that ache that forms.”
“I miss Thomas,” you whispered.
“You’ll see him and the babies tomorrow,” he said, crew memembers starting to gather back around, eyes fluttering open. “He has a surprise for you.”
“Oh god. What’d he do?” He held up his hands and scooted back over to his mark. You put on puppy dog eyes, a sigh leaving him.
“He and the kids made you a cake. He misses you too.” You inhaled deeply. “Do you regret-”
“No. I just need a moment with him is all.” You forced a smile and nodded. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
Three Weeks Later
“You’re so pretty,” whispered TJ as you exited the bathroom in a pair of pajama shorts and one of his t-shirts. You laughed, pushing back your damp hair before crawling into bed with him. “I can’t believe I’m sleeping with a movie star.”
You slapped his chest, TJ giggling, rolling himself so he rested his chin on your chest. You ran your fingers through his dark strands, TJ inhaling slowly.
“If this was something you wanted to try, you know we’ll figure it out, right?” You smiled, nodding once.
“People said I did good.”
“If you mean your parents bragging about how fucking incredible you did then sure, you did good.” You traced your finger over his cheek, concern growing in his eyes. “You’ve moved on from the brewery and we both know it. You can clearly do this acting thing if you wanted.”
“Thomas,” you sighed. He wrapped his arms under you, giving you a squeeze. “The only reason I did it in the first place was to help. I did it to spend time with my parents. I got to hang out with my dad so much and a lot of the stuff we filmed…I couldn’t have done that with someone else.”
“I have no problem with you not taking your career that direction if you don’t want to do it. But I don’t want you to not try because you do want it and you’re scared. I want you to go after everything you want in life,” he said quietly, tilting his head up, kissing your jaw. “That’s all I want from you.”
“I don’t want it,” you said, closing your eyes. “I want to get into set design full time. Being away for so long, even coming home on the weekend in the middle there…I don’t want to be gone from you guys for that long regularly.”
“I understand, believe me. We missed you too,” he said, giving you another squeeze. “But we’d go with you if you wanted.”
“I know you would,” you murmured, slowly peeling open your eyes to find him with a smile on his lips. “Let’s put it in the maybe someday again category, if it were with my parents. Until then, I am ready to take a few weeks off and spend some time home.”
He nuzzled you and chuckled. “Why not make a vow to not leave this bed? That can easily be arranged.”
“You’re cockier than usual, my sweet boy,” you teased, TJ lifting himself up on his hands, leaning down over you. “Feeling needy?”
“I haven’t slept with my wife in three weeks. I’m fucking needy. Now if the movie star was so kind-” You smacked him with a pillow, TJ putting on a shocked face. “Is this how you hollywood types are?”
“You’re such an ass!” you laughed, hitting him again, TJ plopping all of his weight down straight on top of you. “Thomas!”
A throat cleared in the room, TJ spinning around and in front of you quickly, your dad smirking at you both. “Well I didn’t mean to interrupt this strange…whatever flirting thing this is but I do need to talk to Y/N. It’s kind of important.”
“What’s up?” you asked, shoving a pillow in TJ’s lap to hide the tent in his pants.
“Your birth parents got wind that you were doing a movie.” You narrowed your eyes as he sighed. “They gave an interview an hour ago. My team is freaking out. I couldn’t care less what they say but-”
“But it could damage your reputation.”
He was blank faced but you knew it could be turn into a big deal. “I don’t give a shit about mine. But they said you only got set design jobs because I got them for you and I know how much it means to you to make your name on your own. Just don’t look at your phones or go online for a while. I’m going to fix this. I promise.”
“Is there anything we should do? Or I guess shouldn’t?” asked TJ.
“I know you two are careful about handing out your numbers but don’t answer any calls-”
“I know how to fix all of this,” you said. You felt both of their eyes on you as you climbed out of bed and tugged on TJ’s hoodie sitting on the bench at the foot of it. You glanced back at TJ and then to your dad.
“You want me to release that video. The security footage from the back porch with your parents,” he said.
“Yes and no.” You slipped past him and went down the hall to the kitchen, both of them following as you grabbed an empty coffee mug from the cabinet. You set it under the coffee machine and after a moment it was churning, the pair of them looking very confused. “On a scale of one to ten, how much will your team freak out if you don’t say anything for like…twelve hours?”
“Considering this is the most controversial thing that’s ever happened to me, probably like a fifty. Why? You’re thinking of something,” he said.
“Like I said, I know how to fix this. But I need time and a few other things.”
“This isn’t your mess to fix,” he said. “I’ll release the video with a statement or-”
“Or…you can give me what I need and I can guarantee anyone with a brain who thinks you and mom manipulated me will change their minds.” You could tell he didn’t want to have to get you involved. He knew how much they’d hurt you. All he wanted to do was protect you from them ever doing that again.
“Give her a chance, Jensen,” said TJ, getting out another mug for himself. “I know my wife. If she has an idea, let’s give it a shot.”
You stepped forward and stood in front of him, his lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s your choice, dad. We can do whatever you and your team want. I just feel like if I said something first it’d mean more. I really need you trust me with this if you-”
“What do you need?” he asked, a small smile on his lips. You nodded, inhaling deeply and grabbing the pad of paper and a pen from nearby.
“You instagram password to start.” He jotted it down, giving you a look to not do anything stupid with his account. “I also need the login to the cloud account with the video backup at the house.”
“I can send you the video of your parents directly. It’ll be easier than-”
“Dad. Just give me the login.” He wrote down more on the pad, his eyes concerned now. “How far back does it go?”
“Since we had the house. What-”
“Is it just video or audio too?”
“Both…I’m pretty sure the security company compresses the files.” You hummed, grabbing the paper and picking up your mug, heading for your home office.
“Uh, is there anything we can do?” asked TJ. You spun around and took a sip of coffee.
“Keep the coffee coming and dad, tell your team you need to discuss with your family and you’ll have a statement out by the morning. Otherwise, do not disturb me.”
You slipped away into your office, leaning back against it.
“This is gonna be a long night.”
Twelve Hours Later
You yawned as you exited your office, quickly making your way down to the bedroom and plopping down next to a sleeping TJ. You were asleep in an instant and woke up a few hours later at noon to TJ shoving on your shoulder.
You were pretty sure you growled at him but he knew how tired you were after the jet lag and staying up a full day. But you needed to try to get your schedule back on track so you reluctantly let him pull you up to sitting.
“You’re on CNN! Come look!” he said. You shook your head, TJ hoisting you up, carrying you bridal style into the family room where what looked like your entire family sat watch the news.
And there was your face from the video you’d made in the middle of the night smack dab in the middle of the screen. TJ set you down as heads turned, your mom rushing over and hugging you.
“How did you make that so fast? How…you didn’t have to share those things, honey,” she said, holding on tight.
“I just wanted people to know the difference between a bad parent and a good one,” you said, surprised to find your dad missing. “Is dad mad? I know I put a lot of private moments in and things he’d probably wished had stayed a secret.”
You spotted him come out of the hallway where the half-bath was, his face neutral. He was mad. Of course he was mad. You’d been sleep deprived when you put that video together. You fucked it up. You should have just let him handle it so you didn’t make it worse.
“Dad, I’m sorry. I should have…” you trailed off when he held up his finger and stepped in front of you. He looked you up and down and nodded a few times. “I’m sorry.”
“You make a video telling the world how miserable you used to be, about some of the bad things foster parents did and calling them out by name, about how mom and I changed your life, about how I…” he clamped his mouth shut, glancing away with a scrunched up face. You swore his bottom lip wobbled and smiled, watching him put his back to your siblings who were all watching intently.
“Was it the part about you being the only real dad I’ve ever had that got you or how I called you a good man that anyone would be lucky enough to have in their life?”
“Goddammit, Y/N,” he said, wiping off his face, keeping his head turned away. “It’s one thing when we say that shit in private but you had to say it to everyone?”
“Yeah because everyone should know. Those assholes tried to fuck with you. My whole life assholes fucked with me and now they tried to do it to someone I love. I’m not letting that shit go anymore. So fuck my birth parents and fuck my other foster parents. If people find out that you’re a good person in the process then that’s a bonus to me.”
He sighed, forcing himself to turn around, a sad smile on his face. “I just wish you hadn’t felt forced to share those things.”
“I didn’t,” you said, his eyes widening ever so slightly in surprise. “All I wanted to do was send a message to those people that they can’t hurt me anymore. I’m sorry if I royally screwed stuff up for you or violated your privacy. I just wanted them to leave us alone from now on.”
“You didn’t, sweetie,” said your mom, tucking you into her side, your dad nodding, easing a bit. He cleared his throat and ruffled your hair, his smile relaxed now.
“You with me for a second,” he said. You followed him down the hall to your room, frowning when you were alone.
“Dad I really am-” He pressed a finger to your lips shushing you, fixing your hair behind your ears.
“Do you remember after the accident when I couldn’t take showers and there was that time you helped me wash my hair?” You nodded as he fixed your part, smiling to himself. “I realized something that day.”
“What?” you asked quietly. He rested his hands on your shoulders, breathing slowly.
“You’re a good person too,” he said softly. You cocked your head, a sliver of a chuckle slipping past his lips. “I knew before then but in that moment, when you with one arm in a sling offered to help me, I just knew I was damn lucky I wound up with a kid like you.”
“You were hurt and I helped…how does that make me a good person for doing what I should have in the first place?”
“Welcome to life in my head the past three hours while everyone in my life tells me how amazing I am when all I did with you was what I was supposed to.”
“Well…” you groaned, stomping your foot. “How do you always do that! Every single time you turn it around on me. It’s not fair!”
“I’ve been playing the game longer than you have,” he chuckled, picking up a hair tie off your dresser and bunching up your hair. “Something I learned with your youngest sister is if you start braiding their hair, then you have a captive audience so you can get out of them whatever intel you need.”
You raised your eyebrow at him as he started to work the hair together, ignoring your face. “And what intel are you looking to get out of me?”
“Just sharing a parenting tip,” he chuckled. “You? You I think I have a pretty good idea of where we stand.”
“Oh you do, huh?” You glanced down, annoyed at the fact he could do a far better fishtail braid than you ever had. He slipped the tie off his wrist, twisting it in place a few times before humming.
“Yeah. I mean, I’m apparently the best dad that ever existed so…” he said, chuckling when you lightly punched his arm.
“You’re just…” you trailed off with a shrug, a smile on his face. “Are you mad? About me showing all those videos of us from home over the years?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Honestly, I loved it. Made me cry like a baby but I loved it. I know you’re pretty damn selective about who you let in but I’m glad I made the cut.”
“Yeah, well, you’re alright for an old guy.” You smirked, getting one in return. “I love you?”
“Yeah you’re lucky I’m still in a good mood,” he said, cocking his head. “Want to know why you’re on the news?”
“Because you’re oh so famous,” you said dramatically, his eyes narrowing. “You so want to give me a noogie, don’t you.”
“The desire is strong,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back. “In news surprising no one, your birth parents were keeping more secrets. Apparently they stole money from their shady employer. A lot of money. Which then the attempt on their lives were made. They were never in witness protection. They were working a deal with the government. Go undercover and they wouldn’t be arrested for partaking in those shady deals themselves. They took the deal and ran. Feds lost them a long, long time ago. You were only supposed to be in foster care a few weeks. But when those dummies got money hungry…they seem to have forgotten they’re fugitives. Pretty interesting have people like that call me the manipulator huh?”
You parted your lips, holding up a hand. “Did they arrest them?”
“It was in process on the news when you came out,” he said as you stood and headed for the door.
“Oh, I want to see this.”
“Knock knock,” said your dad that evening as you lay in bed, ready for a full night’s sleep. “Need anything before we head out?”
“I’ll take a hug,” you said as you sat up.
“Those I’m an expert on.” He walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress, giving a big squeezing one. “Get some rest. You had a long day.”
“So many phone calls. On the plus side my birth parents were arrested, the DA is looking into most of my old foster parents and you gained like a couple hundred thousand followers in like twelve hours. You can tell your PR team thank you.”
“She’s so modest and humble,” he teased, kissing your temple. “Tomorrow will be better. We’ll do breakfast burritos like a normal Sunday. How’s that sound?”
You hummed, closing your eyes. “Can you do one more thing before you go?”
“Shoot,” he said quietly.
“Can you go in my closet and get rid of the duffel bag with the files in it?” He leaned back, letting you lay back against your pillows. “I think it’s time for it to go. I don’t need it anymore.”
He smiled and stood up. “Okay then. Mind if I hang onto it?”
“Do as you please,” you said, closing your eyes.
“You sure you don’t need these papers anymore?” he asked.
“I have my letters from you. That’s all I ever needed,” you said, shuffling the background. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, tall munchkin,” he said, tugging your blankets up. “You realize the studio wants us to make another movie together after this, don’t you?”
“It’s gotta be at a resort or no deal,” you said. He chuckled, quietly opening the door. “You can negotiate that right?”
“We’ll see,” he said. The room grew quiet for a beat before you heard his heavy exhale. “I’m really glad I managed to prove you wrong about trusting me. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to.”
“You’re annoyingly relentless like that,” you said, turning on your side, tucking your covers up. “Love you.”
“Love you back. Sleep tight, kiddo.”
__________
#jensen x daughter!reader#jensen ackles#daughter!reader#jensen ackles x daughter!reader#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfic#jensen ackles fanfic
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from the love to the lightning
5k | rated T | read on ao3
But when Buck tried to ask him if everything was okay with him, Eddie just said, “Me? Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?"
And Buck really didn’t have an answer for that so he let it go.
Because Eddie doesn’t hide that stuff from him, anymore. Not since the day Buck broke down his bedroom door and found him sobbing in a heap on the floor.
So when Eddie says everything’s okay, Buck believes him.
or, after the lightning strike, Buck recovers. Eddie doesn’t.
Healing is slow. Buck knows this. He’s done this before. Last time, he was too eager, probably, to get back to work.
This time, he’s learned how to be patient.
The first week, his parents hover around the loft, offering to do anything and everything for him, even though Buck is definitely capable of microwaving his own soup and fetching his own pillows. But he can’t deny it’s nice to have their attention. Their care. Although he can’t help but be afraid that the minute they get on the plane back to Pennsylvania, it will evaporate again.
The rest of the 118 gets back to work, and Buck surprises himself by only feeling a little jealous that they get to be out there while he’s stuck on his (brand new) couch. After their parents depart, Maddie takes a few extra days off from dispatch to make sure Buck’s taken care of, although he suspects it’s more to keep him company than anything.
But actually, Buck’s days are far from lonely. Because most of them—the weekends and the afternoons, anyway—he spends with Chris. Sometimes Chris and Carla. Sometimes Chris and Eddie, when he’s not on shift. And sometimes just the two of them.
It’s strangely like the time they spent together after the tsunami. Chris is older now, of course, almost a full-blown teenager instead of a round-cheeked eight-year-old, but he’s just as attached to Buck now as he was then. Maybe even more so.
When Buck heard about the ICU caper that Chris, Eddie, and Carla managed to pull off during Buck’s time in coma dream purgatory, he almost started crying on the spot. When he asked Chris about it, Chris just said, “I had to talk to you.” Like that was that.
“I’m really glad you came to see me,” Buck told him. “Even if it was against the rules. I heard you, you know. Your voice, telling me I had to come back. I heard it.”
“I knew you would,” Chris said, and Eddie, who was standing by the kitchen door watching them, looked away.
It’s nice, that Chris wants him around so much. Buck really doesn’t have much else to occupy his time while he recuperates, and it’s pretty hard to feel sorry for yourself when you’re hanging out with the coolest kid in L.A. They even go to PT appointments together, because Buck got a referral for Chris’s clinic, since they specialize in neurologic physical therapy.
“Hey, hope you two are hungry!” Eddie greets as Buck and Chris tromp through the door after a particularly rough session.
“Starving!” Chris exclaims.
Buck looks at the takeout boxes on the dining table. “Is that Tito’s? Did you get—”
“Chili con carne?” Eddie asks, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out a foil-wrapped burrito.
Buck loves him so much in this moment he wants to cry. Instead, he takes the proffered burrito, but he must be staring a little too much because Eddie drops his gaze and starts digging in another bag for chips.
“What’d you two get up to today?” Eddie asks as Buck and Chris both sit down.
Christopher launches into a blow-by-blow of their day. Eddie laughs and smiles and makes jokes in all the right places, but Buck can’t shake the feeling that something is off.
It’s a feeling he’s been having ever since he got out of the hospital.
(keep reading on ao3)
#CHRIST this took forever to finish#in my defense i was genuinely just very busy over the mini hiatus#but i am SO GLAD i managed to get this out before the next episode because i'm already losing my mind over the poker date situation#sibyls words#buddie fic#911 fic#911fic#Buddie
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The Light of the Stars: Chapter 2 [din djarin]
Your celebration for Din’s name day goes horribly wrong. And a group of pirates sees the worst of your Mandalorian.
chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3
read part one here (not necessary, but encouraged!): told before and told again
series masterlist | my masterlist!
pairing: din djarin x f!reader
rating: 18+ (mdni)
tags and warnings: established relationship, unprotected piv (no following the leader), the helmet stays on, but the gloves come off, in more ways than one, hand kink???, animal handler!reader, grogu being a good kid, extremely protective din, kidnapping, BAMF din, din gets mad, dirty talk, fingering, blood and violence, creampie, rough sex, multiple orgasms, top din, soft din, din fucking the babysitter, extreme amounts of fluff, din is in love, mando'a pet names, porn with feelings, porn with plot (there actually is a plot this time), feral din, din is touch-starved, it's din's birthday!! (sort of), din djarin being so in love that it's disgusting
word count: ~ 5k
chapter 2: where the lonely wind abides
Happening upon an impromptu festival on Nevarro, you try to find your Mandalorian a name day gift. But someone is watching from the crowd.
Nobody knows when or how it happens. Time is an ever-reaching rope to the stars and it disappears into the unfathomable blackness between them. At some point in that blackness, the word gets out that the most infamous Mandalorian in the Outer Rim is travelling with not one, but two companions.
“You’re kidding.” The pirate lifts his brows at the holopad, managing a sideways glance at his partner. Her image is perfectly clear, as is the chain code beneath it.
“That look like a joke?” His companion tosses back his pint of spotchka and swipes the sleeve of his ratty jacket over his mouth. “This could be how we get our money back from that hunk of junk. She's a pretty picture, ain't she?”
“Sure, she's pretty. That mean she's worth a trip across the galaxy?”
His partner just grins. A couple golden teeth glimmer in the light of the bar. “Isn't a pretty face always worth it?”
He thinks about it. It isn’t like there’s a bounty to collect on the girl. In fact, it seems she has never pissed off a single being in the ‘verse—there’s so little information besides the chain code that the pirate wonders if this Mandalorian has intimidated some people into keeping her existence as discreet as possible. Certainly, she’s a captivating sight to behold. From his pocket, the pirate produces a credit. The small rectangle is all that remains of the botched deal, of his crew. That, and the man next to him.
In the cycle and some months since the incident, the pirate has turned the idea of revenge over and over in his head. It had seemed pointless at the time—the Mandalorian was able to overwhelm his forces for a reason. He is capable. He is a skilled warrior. The pirate’s forces are depleted; how could he have hoped to track down the Mandalorian and claim revenge for the massacre of his crew?
Now, he is presented with a new angle. Perhaps it will be worth it.
She is a lovely thing.
“Well.” The pirate slams down his own spotchka and beckons for another from the droid behind the counter. “I’d like a taste of the girl who’s won the favour of such a deadly warrior.”
~
High Magistrate Greef Karga is the first to greet you when the Razor Crest touches down. Your cloak weighs you down more than your typical clothes, the hood protecting you from the sun and from prying eyes, but Karga is beaming at you. Wrapped comfortably in a sling at your hip, Grogu makes grabbing motions at his human friend.
“It’s been a long time, my friends,” booms Karga, all widespread arms and dramatic displays. “What brings you to Nevarro?”
Behind you, Din is occupied with scolding a droid who seems to want to fiddle with the once-again-faulty control panel at the ramp. So, you smile apologetically at Greef Karga. “It’s his name day,” you inform him in a hushed voice. “Don’t mention it, though. It’ll make him grumpy. I want to find him a gift.”
“Well,” says Karga in a thoroughly amused tone, “there’s plenty here to find since we started rebuilding this town. Anything particular you have in mind?”
You ponder the question for a moment, bounding Grogu on your hip. “Something he can fight with,” you decide. “He’ll appreciate weapons the most.”
Greef Karga shakes his head good-naturedly. “Nevarro can only handle one Mandalorian. They would clean our blacksmiths out of house and home.”
“I still may.” You smile up at him, squinting a bit in the sunlight. “Could you point me in the right direction?”
“Well, your typical route might find some delays,” he tells you. Frowning, you try to peer behind him into town, but you’re too far away. “I decided to hold a festival to celebrate Nevarro’s newfound liberation from the Empire.”
Oh, no.
“Oh, Maker,” you mumble. “He… doesn’t like crowds.”
You don’t fancy the idea of spending Din’s name day surrounded by bodies, pressed in together like cattle. He will hate this. He will want to head back the way you came immediately. He will—
Greef Karga waves his hand dismissively. “Plenty of places to go outside the main strip. I’ll direct you to the blacksmith’s if you’d like.”
You shake your head. “I want it to be a surprise.”
“What surprise?”
You press your lips together as Din steps up beside you, apparently satisfied that the droid will no longer attempt to ruin his ship. “It’s good to see you again, Mando,” says Greef Karga, thankfully drawing attention away from your scheme.
Din clasps his friend’s arm. “You, too. Looks like you and Marshal Dune have done well with the place.”
He shrugs. You don’t remember Karga acting so humble. Perhaps life as a magistrate has changed him. The three of you, along with Grogu still attached to your hip, begin walking toward town. “I had plenty of help, as you have.” His eyes slide pointedly toward you, and you feel your cheeks flush. “She’s as lovely as ever. I could name a few flowers in the courtyard after her.”
You open your mouth to reply, thrilled at the prospect, but Din clears his throat and inquires after the state of the cantina. He wants to warm his hand on your lower back. He wants to lock you inside the ship and shuck your pretty, flowy dress up around your hips, getting a glimpse of the cum still dripping from your tight hole. He wants to be the one who warrants the wondrous smile now overtaking your face as you see the colourful streamers adorning the storefronts and homes just within the town border.
He will settle for the instinctive way you grasp his arm to get his attention when you see a beautiful dress inside a store or a vendor selling baked goods that make your mouth water. He will settle for knowing that he is the one you want to touch when you’re happy.
Greef Karga leads you both to the new-and-improved cantina, tended by a Sullustan and already bustling with patrons despite it being early in the day. A little too early, perhaps, for the amount of spotchka he sees. “Is there a party going on?” he asks dryly.
Karga claps his hands together. He looks positively gleeful. “Yes, as a matter of fact. I know you aren’t one for festivities, but the cantina’s got specials, if you’re interested.”
He is not. He can’t say the same for you and Grogu. Still, he’s hungry. “Thank you,” he says, a bit tightly, holding himself reserved as he ushers you toward a booth in the corner. Greef Karga winks at you, and again, Din’s hand flexes toward your back.
“Enjoy the new Nevarro,” announces the High Magistrate, “and happy name day, Mando.” Once again proudly sweeping his arms out wide, Karga stops on his way out to greet a couple locals. When he’s ostensibly out of earshot, Din’s helmet tips toward you.
“You told him.”
You smile sheepishly. “He’s your friend. He would want to know.”
“You seem to forget…” A hand finds your upper thigh beneath the table and squeezes. Your mouth is dry, but he’s acting as nonchalantly as ever, drumming his fingers on the table. “I don’t have a name day.”
“Of course you do. Everyone does.” Grogu coos his agreement next to you. “See? Even he has one.”
“We don’t know his, either.”
“Well, I’m very talented at making them up.” Grogu climbs onto the table as a Twi’lek server approaches. Din orders broth for all three of you, along with a cup of jogan fruit juice, because he knows it’s your favourite.
“Soon,” he says once the server disappears, “you’ll be responsible for giving name days to everyone in the galaxy.”
You shrug your shoulders. “I’m all right with that. I did it for a lot of animals.”
“Do you ever miss it?” he asks.
You watch him thoughtfully. He is assessing his surrounding without moving a single muscle, his eyes flitting back and forth behind that helmet of his, keeping his hand firm on your leg. It will be difficult to convince him to part ways. “I miss the animals,” you tell him, toying with his fingers. “I miss taking care of them. But I don’t miss the way some of them would come to us: battered and beaten. I don’t miss wrestling plasma rods out of owners’ hands as they proclaimed themselves caretakers.” You look down at your hand atop his. “I don’t miss my boss.”
His body stiffens. There’s a steely look in your eye, even if you won’t meet his. He remembers your first day together, when he arrived at the handler’s place and asked for a babysitter. He remembers you setting down your embroidery in the corner and greeting Grogu before you even lay eyes on Din. He liked that about you. He liked your eagerness to bond with the creature, even if he himself hadn’t figured out how at that point.
He remembers your boss grabbing you harshly by the ear and demanding that you show the Mandalorian at his door some respect. Din does not know what he would do now if he saw that happen to you. Then, he only gripped his blaster pistol a little tighter and asked to speak in private, away from your boss’s oppressive hold. Now, he thinks he would take out his pistol. He would train it between the coward’s eyes and demand, evenly, that he release you. He would wait until you stepped just behind him, and then he would fire anyway.
Perhaps it’s for the best that he didn’t know you then the way he does now.
“So,” he says, watching the server place your food down in front of you. Grogu chirps, happily sliding his broth toward him and spilling a little over the lip of the bowl in his zealousness. “How are we celebrating?”
You bite your lip, and for a moment, his focus breaks. He never thought himself to be a simple man, confined to somewhat primal instincts, until he watched you bite your lip for the first time. Until he saw you bend over, laugh, tease him for the first time. He’s embraced that side of him in private. But here, in a crowded cantina in a crowded city, he needs to stay vigilant.
You wince. You don’t want to tell him that you’re here to buy him a gift, but it may be your only option if you hope to give him some semblance of a good day.
Din’s vambrace chirps. Greef Karga appears between the two of you, looking significantly more distressed than a half-hour ago. “Mando,” he says urgently.
Just like that, his focus returns in one dizzying rush. “What?”
“Seems our festivities have drawn unwanted excitement,” says Karga, rubbing the back of his neck as if he hesitates to continue. “Some pirates are in the meatpacking district, harassing my locals.”
Since when has Nevarro had a meatpacking district? Din’s frown matches yours, but you cannot see that. “How many?”
“A good plenty. Fifteen?” Karga shakes his head. “I know you don’t fancy mercenary work, but I can’t stop them alone.”
You don’t fancy when people use him as a mercenary, either. “Where is Marshal Dune?”
“Off-world.” Greef Karga sounds more desperate now. His eyes flick away from Din briefly as if he's monitoring a screen just to the side. “Please, Mando. You’ll be paid for your services. And thanked, endlessly.”
You squeeze Din’s arm, the crook of his elbow where there is no armour to protect him. His helmet tilts your way for a second before he looks back to Karga. “Okay,” he says roughly. “Send me the coordinates.”
Karga visibly deflates. “Try not to take a long time. You know pirates.”
Din cuts the communication and sighs, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. “Dank farrik.” He’s standing up just as fast as he lets the frustration go. “Stay here.”
“Hey!” You grab his arm, forcing him to turn back around without making a scene. You keep your voice low. “Din, I don’t like this. Fifteen is a lot more than two.”
“I can handle pirates. It may not escalate.” Din watches the terror that briefly flashes in your wide eyes and feels pangs of guilt strike him. He may not care about his name day or his life nearly as much as you, but you care. It wasn’t fair of him to just bolt. He was used to making hairline decisions when he was alone. He’s learned—he’s trying—to be less reckless.
A gloved hand curls around your hand. Prying open your fingers, he places something small in your palm. “Use this,” he says. “If you can’t find me, use it.”
He’s given you a communicator. It’s a tiny, round, black thing, just big enough to fit comfortably inside your ear. He turns it on to demonstrate, and it blinks with a microscopic green light. “Din,” you whisper, your stomach roiling with slow-release anxiety.
“Just…” He takes the communicator and fixes it in your left ear. “Just in case.”
“Don't you dare get hurt.” You poke him in the chest. “This armour takes ages to get off, and I can’t help you when you do.”
He briefly brings his hand to the back of your neck, a sure weight. “Be safe for me, dangerous girl. Understand?”
You nod, and he goes. Like that, you're left alone in the dark corner of the cantina, watching Grogu grip his small bowl and drink down the soup with little ceremony. “Careful, cyare,” you tell him. “You’re going to get more of it on yourself than in your mouth.”
His ears flick, indicating he heard you, but he continues to guzzle the bone broth like it's a final meal. You wince when he finishes, slurping the pulp at the bottom and belching. “Well,” you say. “You and I have similar listening skills.”
He gurgles. You keep your chin in your palm as you eat, warmed from the inside with your own broth, even though you hardly need it in this cantina. It's hot as the blue part of a flame, and your hood does nothing to let any of that heat escape. Luckily, Grogu seems as starved for relief as you are: he’s reaching for your glass of jogan fruit juice. “Hey,” you chide gently. “Let’s take it easy. You know that gives you a bellyache.”
He coos, a bit grumpily, but you smooth over the wrinkle in his brow with your thumb. Your glass still half-full, you slide out of the booth and let the baby hobble over to you. “Hop in.”
His giant ears flick off some broth—how did he get it there?—and he waddles inside the sling. “Comfortable?” He blinks up at you. “Good. Let’s go find a present for your dad.”
~
He may murder Greef Karga.
These aren’t pirates. They’re speed bikers, and they aren’t causing a ruckus so much as packing themselves inside the cantina and drinking a bit too much. They certainly aren’t harassing the locals.
Slowly, very slowly, Din turns to face Greef Karga. He tries to look casually surprised, leaning against the doorway. “Looks like they’ve calmed down.”
“There was never a disturbance,” says Din roughly, “was there?”
“Well… I mean, that depends on how you define—”
“Was there?”
He does not have the time nor patience for this. He should be with you and the kid. Instead, he’s spent an hour navigating through the swell of the crowds enjoying the festival just to find that the meatpacking district is possibly the most peaceful area in Nevarro right now.
“Not in the traditional sense,” says Greef Karga, evasive as ever. “Listen, Mando, I’m sorry. Your girl wanted to get away for awhile, find a name day present for you. She wanted it to be a surprise.”
“It’s not my—” Din stops himself, curling and flexing his fingers, trying for a few deep breaths. He recognises that he has been fooled. He knows Karga was only trying to help you. He doesn't deserve the brunt of Din’s simmering anger. “It’s not my name day.”
“Try telling her to drop an idea once she gets it in her head,” huffs Karga. “I really am sorry.”
Din suspects he’s more sorry about spoiling the surprise, but he shakes it out. He lets it go. You wanted to do a good thing for him. “It’s all right. Just… Just tell me the quickest way back.”
Outside the cantina, he tries the communication link. “Can you hear me?” he asks.
A crackling response momentarily settles the tension in his bones. “Loud and clear. Are you all right?”
“There were no pirates.” He sends a pointed look Karga’s way. The High Magistrate just shrugs. “You and I are going to have a very long talk later.”
“He lied to you?”
“You didn’t know?”
You make an indignant noise. “Of course not!”
“Are you buying me a present?”
He can't help it. “I think,” you say, “I’m going to need to have a very long talk with Greef Karga.”
And while he does think that would be vastly entertaining, having seen glimpses of your fiery anger, your next words dim his senses to a dull roar. “Come back to me, Din.”
You're using the voice that makes it impossible to stay angry, or even frustrated. You sound like that whenever you've just detangled your bodies and you're trying to catch your breath. “I will,” he tells you. “I will.”
“Good.”
“See?” Greef Karga grins, like nothing’s happened. “All worked out well. She’s safe. There aren’t any pirates.”
Din just walks away. But not before turning his head and pointing in Karga’s direction. “I still want my payment.”
~
You’ve never known a blacksmith to be so friendly.
Not that you've met many. In fact, you may have met none. But the ageing man has told you about his five grandchildren and shown you pictures of them within five minutes of greeting him. Within ten minutes, he showed you his vast collection of custom-made knives. From curved blades to gemstones wedged in the hilts, you were overwhelmed with choice. But, like he could see the indecision in your face, the smith beckoned you to follow him around his desk. From a drawer, he produced the gift you now hide under your cloak: a simple, elegant blade the colour of asphalt.
He placed it on the pad of your index finger and both of you watched as it refused to list one way or the other. “Aside from impeccable balance,” he told you, an excited glimmer in his steel-grey eyes, “the hilt is reinforced with beskar, for deflecting attacks. If necessary.”
Your brows lifted. “Beskar is rare.”
“Not on Nevarro,” said the old man with a little melancholy in his tone. “At least, not for a while. Once all the Mandalorians were purged from the planet, old men like me found some use in the ingots they left behind.”
A part of you felt guilty for wielding such a powerful weapon, even if it was the mere length of your fingertips to the midpoint of your forearm. This could have belonged to a Mandalorian, once, in a different form. Now, you told yourself, it will belong to one.
The smith did not give you a discount, on account of tough times, but he did give you a leather sheath to holster the blade around a person’s waist. You paid him handsomely and left the smith feeling somewhat proud of yourself, silently thanking a group of pirates for deciding to occupy your warrior’s time—no matter how deeply you worried for him.
Then his voice crackled in your ear, revealing that the pirates were a ruse and that he knew about your present, and your shoulders deflated altogether. Tucked inside the sling at your hip, Grogu grabs hold of your finger and pulls gently.
“I know,” you say miserably, picking him up and holding him close to your side. “I didn't want him to find out, either. You think he’ll like it, right?” He coos. “I think so, too.”
A concerned gurgle makes you frown down at him. “He’s coming,” you tell him, trying to soothe his worries. He gets nervous when he’s away from Din for too long. “We just spoke. He’s all right, cyare.”
Grogu bats gently at the hood of your cloak, and a dreadful prickle of goosebumps erupts from your head to toes. His eyes are wide and afraid. “What is it? What do you feel?”
You dutifully back into an alley between the smith’s and the bakery next door, not stupid enough to ignore the telltale scrunch of your charge’s little nose. Soon enough, you begin to feel the twinge, too.
The crowd has turned onto this street, a parade of young and old, colourful and plain, some holding instruments and others clapping rhythmically to a song you do not recognise. They are all blissful, grateful, dancing down the main strip.
Minutes tick by. Din does not materialise from a magical part in the crowd. And there's something prickling at the back of your neck: insistence, danger. When you step out slightly to look for an easy exit, you catch a pair of eyes hidden beneath a weathered leather tricorn hat. They are unmistakable in their destination: you. You cannot stay here.
You follow the surge of the crowd down the main strip, keeping Grogu tucked in your arms instead of the sling. The knife at your waist is an unfamiliar weight, and you do not know how to use it. But the crowd is padding. You tap the link in your ear. “Din.”
Engulfed in the noise of the parade, you can barely hear yourself, let alone his voice. Looking up toward the sky, you squint against the sun. They are headed to the south, and the Crest is north. You quickly turn on your heel, shoving unceremoniously and unapologetically through the crowd, keeping one hand secure on Grogu’s head, shielding him from an accidental prod or blow as the wave of people surges.
You make a choice. Tearing at the brooch clasping your cloak together, you toss it onto the stones.
Din’s ear roars with the sound of cheers and music, but he’s too far away from the parade. It’s you. You, trying to reach him, caught up in the swell of celebrations. He won’t be able to heard you like this. He just hopes you’re enjoying the festivities more than he is.
Idly, hurrying through the residential district, Din wonders what you got him as a gift.
Once you reach the Razor Crest, you slide open Grogu’s compartment and slot him safely inside. You’re panting from the run and the heat, your cloak lost somewhere on the way. Your hair is loose and a little wild. You imagine your eyes must look as much, too.
“Cyare.” You kneel before him and he coos worriedly. “I'm going to close this door. Only Din and I know the code, which means you'll be safe. Even breaking the panel won't force it open.” He blinks, and you nod. “Now I need you to do something brave for me. Can you keep this door closed and stay quiet, no matter what you hear?”
He babbles, and you take it as a yes.
"Good," you say, reaching out your hand. He holds onto your index finger. "You'll be all right, little one."
The door slides closed at the press of a button, and you rise with Din’s new knife taut in your hand. You forget all the training. You forget everything but your primal, clawing desire to keep your ward safe.
A man, wearing a tricorn hat, boards the Crest with a henchman in tow. The lower half of his face is covered with a scarf, but his eyes are incisive. They take in every corner of the ship before they find you, and you get a distinct feeling that belittling action is intentional. “You are quite pretty.”
“More than pretty.” His partner lifts his brows. He isn't wearing a hat, and he is bald, his complexion darker. “I’ll gladly pay for your services, unless the Mandalorian has worn you out.”
You bristle at the presumption. "You'd do well to learn some manners," you return. "Get off this ship. Please."
"You've never killed a man," says the pirate, "have you?"
You sneer, hoping he cannot see how correct he is. "You know very little about your bounty."
"You aren't my bounty. You aren’t a bounty at all." He takes another step forward. "You handle that knife like you're afraid of it."
"And you have all those weapons on you because you're so confident in your natural abilities."
The man next to him closes more distance until you're mere feet away from the accosters. “Does he fuck you?”
“If you’re here to threaten him, you won’t get close enough to try. You won't find him unless he wants to find you. You're going to keep me alive no matter what." Your smile is vindictive. "You need me."
"You're very brave," the pirate says, "for someone who cannot fight."
"Just because I can't handle a knife doesn't mean I can't fight," you say evenly.
"What kind of life does a pretty thing like you have to live to get so cozy with a Mandalorian?"
You shrug. "Wrong place, wrong time. A couple bad decisions. Some good ones."
"For what it's worth"—the bandit gestures to his partner, who advances toward you—"he would have gotten you killed eventually, either way."
"Maybe." You grip the beskar hilt tighter and level it at your opponent. "But he has honour. Can't say the same thing about any of you."
The bandit clicks his tongue and the other man draws a knife. But before you can move, a hand snakes around your head from behind and presses a damp cloth to your face. Dimly, you realise you never checked to see exactly how many pirates had surrounded the ship. You jam the knife backward too late, and the squelch of blood is the last thing you hear before you slump into the bandit's arms.
"Aru-e," you manage: a spit, a curse.
Enemy.
~
Something is wrong.
Din does not feel it until he enters the city centre. If not for Grogu’s ineffable senses, he would not believe in mystical forces. But there is an invisible thread that connects you to him, and he can feel when you hurt. He can feel your joy and your pride and, inexplicably, your affection. He knows there is little to be worried about. Truly, there shouldn't be trouble on this planet. It has long since been wiped of Imps and bandits.
But now, he feels the familiar tug. His instincts lift the hairs at the nape of his neck. His visor whirs with its typical pitch, and detects no peculiar signatures. But he feels it. It's a barrage of ice-hot needles prickling each knob of his spine from top to bottom.
He says your name. When you do not reply, he picks up his pace, weaving through bodies and knocking some aside.
Now, he’s panting your name into the communicator, running as fast as he can and spinning frantically as his helmet scans every single face in the crowd for yours. “Answer me,” he bites out, pleading.
Silence. A throbbing, deafening silence. He can no longer hear the crescendo of happy cries from the crowd.
He tries again. “Do you hear me?”
Nothing.
This is wrong. This twists his stomach and makes him dizzy. You were with him. You were so close to him.
Din pitches forward, finally breaking free of the crowd, grasping blindly for the wall of a nearby building. It’s a blacksmith’s.
A glint catches his eye. He bends to one knee and his heart tumbles out of his chest, rolling to a stop on the filthy stone ground and beating slower and slower until it stops, dead. At his feet lies the brooch you wore on your cloak: the small, metal mudhorn he had made for you long ago. So long ago he can no longer count the days definitively.
I will know you forever.
His own voice, creeping up the back of his neck and latching two clawed hands into his skin. It’s not gonna happen. Not with me.
He does not remember his hand flying to his chest, but now he is clutching his heart, trying to hold on. He cannot breathe.
Your name rattles like an empty chamber in his head. Your smile is pasted to the ceiling of his brain.
Din slumps onto his haunches and stares at the small metal brooch. It’s beautiful, you gasped, tracing the hard edges with your fingertip.
It’s yours.
Din… Your eyes, wide and watering, met his. Time stretched between eons. He never wanted you to stop looking at him.
His hand closed over yours and he could feel the cold metal through his gloves.
~
"Kid?" Din calls, stumbling up the ramp to the Crest. A faint, muffled gurgling is his reply. Din unlocks his chamber and kneels down. "Hey, you okay? Where is she? Where'd she go?"
The Child blinks twice, rapidly, distressed. Something smacks into the back of Din’s head. "Ow," he hisses. "I told you not to throw things."
There's a knife he's never seen before, next to his foot. He picks it up and examines it: the hilt is beskar steel, the blade perfectly balanced, the point lethally sharp. New. This was your gift to him. His heart wants to warm at the knowledge, but there is no time.
There's blood on the blade. His helmet indicates it’s not yours, but that does nothing to assuage his terror.
"You threw a knife at me," he says.
Grogu babbles urgently.
Din’s head is dizzy with rage. “Someone came aboard,” he says darkly. "Someone took her.”
Grogu shuffles closer to him. His hand clenches the knife so tightly it would cut his hand if he weren't wearing gloves. “She hid you,” he mutters. “She kept you safe, huh, kid?”
Grogu watches him with watery eyes. Din nods vaguely. “Yeah, ‘course she did. You know where they took her?”
The kid looks down and mumbles sadly. "That's okay," says Din, rising to his feet. "You and I are gonna find her."
#kiwisbell's fics#pedro pascal#din djarin x female reader#din djarin#din djarin x you#din djarin smut#din djarin x reader#grogu#the mandalorian#the mandalorian fanfiction#mando x reader
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TBOSAS on Crack short take (59)
*When Sejanus met Coryo*
Ma: I can’t believe that my dearest son is now a handsome little lad.
Sejanus: Ma, I’m 8.
Ma: Still, you’re almost as tall as me and your father.🥰
Strabo: That’s a lie. I’m taller than most people. I’m even taller than President Ravinstill and Monster Cardew.
Ma: Whatever you say, my love.
Sejanus: Ma, just this once, please don’t embarrass me in front of the other kids today.😞
Ma: Ok, dear, I promise. But make sure to share those sugar free gumdrops I bought for you and your new friends-
Sejanus: Yes, Ma, I will.
Ma: That’s my boy! Now, run along and have a great time at the playground, Seji Pie.☺️
Sejanus: Thanks Ma!
Ma: And be careful!
Sejanus: I’ll try! Bye-
Strabo: Son.
Sejanus: Yes?
Strabo: Do you know why I moved our family to live in this terrifying city as soon as the war ended?
Sejanus: Because you’re a scheming old man who wants to rule Panem forever?
Strabo: Yes.😈
Sejanus: Typical Pa-
Strabo: But that’s just the half of it.
Sejanus: Then what’s the other half?
Strabo: *points at an 8 year old Coryo Snow* My son, you see that little white haired boy sitting alone on that bench over there?
Sejanus: You mean that malnourish looking gorgeous boy with the most beautiful pale blue eyes that sparkles like a rare pair of Paraiba Tourmalines whenever he looks at the morning sky?
Strabo: Yes, him.
Sejanus: Why?
Strabo: That boy right there will be your future spouse, my son!
Sejanus: My future spouse?!😍
Strabo: Exactly!
Sejanus: But I don’t even know his name! He might even hate me!😭
Strabo: Well, that’s alright, son, because he’s going to be your future fiancé and marry into our family whether he likes it or not!
Sejanus: How do you even know him?
Strabo: His drop dead gorgeous father and I were very close friends.
Sejanus: How close?
Strabo: Extremely close.😏
Sejanus: So you guys were besties?!
Strabo: More than that.
Sejanus: So you were roommates?!
Strabo: Sure! My beloved Crassus and I were the best roommates!😉
Sejanus: But what if he doesn’t like me?
Strabo: Don’t worry about that. Little Snow will eventually melt and love you forever.
Sejanus: Really?🥹
Strabo: Really. You two are destined to be together, my son.
Sejanus: Destined?
Strabo: Written in the stars, fated by life, carved in the ground by love itself and whatever young couples tend to say nowadays.
Sejanus: So he’s mine?
Strabo: Yes, he’s yours.
Sejanus: Mine!😍
Strabo: That’s right! Now go feed him before someone else does!
Sejanus: Ok! *quickly runs to a sad and lonely Coryo*
Coryo: *is secretly starving* Ugh. I think I’m gonna cry. I’m so hungry right now-
Sejanus: Come home with me!
Coryo: Huh? Who are you?
Sejanus: The man who’s gonna marry you!
Coryo: Marry who?
Sejanus: I’m your husband!
Coryo: Husband?! I’m too young to have a husband-
Sejanus: Do you want a gumdrop, my love?😍
Coryo: Um- Sure? I’ll have one-
Sejanus: Take all of them, my love!
Coryo: Why are you calling me that?
Sejanus: Calling you what, my love?
Coryo: That.
Sejanus: I don’t get it! But here! Have my gumdrops and marry me!
Coryo: Thank you, friend.
Sejanus: Boyfriend.
Coryo: Friend.
Sejanus: Husband!
Coryo: I don’t even know your name!
Sejanus: I’m Sejanus Plinth, the love of your life, the boy of your dreams, and the man who’s gonna marry you!
Coryo: I- I’m Coriolanus Xanthos Snow.
Sejanus: What a beautiful name you have, my love!
Coryo: Thank you?
Sejanus: Tell me, my Snow Angel, which one sounds better? Snow-Plinth or Plinth-Snow?
Coryo: I don’t really understand what you’re saying-
Sejanus: So is that a yes?!
Coryo: A yes to what?
Sejanus: That you’ll come home and marry me!
Coryo: I’m too young to marry you!
Sejanus: Pretty please?🥺
Coryo: No.
Strabo: *is hiding behind the bushes* Marry him, little Snow! Marry my one and only idiot son!
Coryo: *points at Strabo* Who the heck are you?!
Strabo: Your father-in-law.
Coryo: *turns to Sejanus* Why is your crazy old man hiding behind those bushes?
Sejanus: It’s a District 2 thing.
Coryo: Right. So I’m just gonna go home now-
Sejanus: To my place!😘
Coryo: No.
Strabo: My beloved Crassus will be extremely happy if you marry my son, little Snow!
Coryo: *sighs* Tigris was right. I should’ve stayed home today-
Sejanus: I’m rich by the way.
Coryo: So when’s our first date?
#tbosas#crack post#crackship#snowjanus#snowplinth#coriolanus x sejanus#coriolanus snow#president snow#sejanus plinth#strabo plinth#ma plinth#crassus snow#tigris snow#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#ballad of songbirds and snakes#hunger games#the hunger games#thg#lucy gray baird#suzanne collins#thg fic#thg incorrect quotes#tbosas fic#tbosas incorrect quotes#alternative universe#crack treated seriously#strabo x crassus#crack fic
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my good looking boy
first fanfic on this app, don't hate me if it's horrendous 😓✋
xo, ali
warnings: child neglect, mentions of abuse, cursing, nausea, body shaming, mentions of starving.
summary: You're the new kid in town, hoping to find a friendship. When you meet the good looking boy that you hope will always be by your side.
I walked out the door, finally wishing I can have a better life than how I had it in Arizona. My mom moved us to Boston, Massachusetts after my dad died, hoping for a new start in life. Maybe find a new husband. She said he died hating this marriage. That I ruined everything. That she wished I wasn't here and that maybe her marriage would have worked fine. No arguments. No hate.
Ever since we moved to Boston, she's been putting on a happy smile. She's been trying to move on. Going to clubs and bars. I heard she found some man at her work place, that they have been hitting it off.
It's been a lonely summer and I finally start school today. My mom gave me the name of the school and told me to walk. I don't have a problem with it, it's just kind of sad walking alone. Seeing the buses and cars.
I made it to the school and immediately see people laughing with their friends. I don't have friends but i'm sure I can make some, I mean it wasn't that hard back at my old school.
I began to walk up the stairs of the most idle staircase. The people in front of me are pretty slow but I really don't care considering we have a good 15 minutes until class.
While stepping up each step, I get pushed by the backpack that's in front of me. Tripping me down to the hands of the person behind me.
"Shit, I'm sorry." I said on the tips of my heels backwards. "Are you okay?" A boys voice spoke to me. I got back on my toes and held onto the railing. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tripped." I spoke to him. I got to the top of the staircase and he grabbed my wrist as I walked away. "Wait, you don't look like you were here last year. Are you new?" He asked looking into my eyes. I paused. His eyes were a light blue and he had some medium length hair. "Yeah, I'm new. This is kind of embarrassing. My first day at a new school and I'm making a fool of myself to the first person I talk to." I laughed quietly. "Well, I don't think you're a fool. You seem like a pretty cool person." He smiled at me. "Thanks, wanna be friends?" I asked him, hoping he says yes. "Sure, why not." He said as he looked down at his phone. "I gotta get going, maybe I'll see you at lunch?" He said while walking away. "Yeah, cya!"
__________
Finally lunch. It's not like I have any money to buy anything but it's nice to get a break. I looked around, trying to find the good looking boy that was with me this morning. "Hey, black haired girl! Over here!" I looked over my shoulder to see the good looking boy calling me over. I walked over to the table he was at, feeling like all eyes were on me.
"Hi" I sighed. "Are you not gonna get lunch? Well it's just because you're thighs look like you ate thirty pounds of cake." The girl next to me spat out. "Alyssa, stop being so mean." The other girl spoke. "You're thighs are perfect. Not that I was looking. I-I just wanted you to know." The good looking boy murmured. "Thanks, I didn't take it in a weird way." I giggled to myself.
"I guess I haven't introduced my friends to you yet. Those two are Debbie and Alyssa. This is Izaiah. Then they're Nate and Madi. Oh and I'm Chris!" Chris.. Alright. "Nice to meet you guys! I'm y/n!" "Cute! Love the name y/n" Madi stated. "Do you want anything to eat? I have a bag of strawberries if you want." Chris whispered over the loud noise of the cafeteria. "I really shouldn't. It's your food plus I'm not that hungry." I whispered back. He put the bag of strawberries in my hand. "Please, I insist. That's what friends are for at the least, right?" He gave off a soft smile. "Right. Thanks." I said whilst hiding my smile. I opened the bag and began munching on the strawberries. I felt happy. I looked to my side, seeing Alyssa roll her eyes at me. Maybe she likes Chris? I don't know. I feel weird for barging into this friendship. The only people I've felt comfortable with were my friends on a phone screen all the way from Arizona to Boston. "Can I have your number considering we are friends and I might need questions to be answered?" Chris asked, pulling out his phone. "Yeah sure it's 602-123-4567." I spoke out. "Thanks. I'll text you so you know it's me." Chris murmured.
_________
"Are you just gonna walk home? It's pretty hot out here." Chris spoke. "Yeah. My house isn't that far away. I live in Lakeview." I said, walking foward. "I live there too! Lets walk together! Let me just tell my brothers that i'm walking instead." He said whilst pulling out his phone. "If you want too. I won't stop you, not one bit." I sighed. Yeah, I like walking alone but he's my first friend in this state so I'll not mind it too much. Wait he has brothers? "You have brothers?" I asked. "Yeah, I live with them and my mom. But my brother, Matt, drives me and Nick, my other brother, to school. Well, that's because he is the only one with a license." Alright, cool. It's not crazy but just cool. I stayed silent. "Do you wanna eat something at my house? It's just- you didn't eat anything at lunch and I wanted to know if you were hungry. My mom would fucking love you. You would also love her food!" He exclaimed. "Okay, I'll go." I said while giggling.
After about 10 minutes, we made it to his house. He unlocked the door and we went inside. "This is where I live. Welcome!" He said very proudly. "Chris honey, is this one of your little friends? Nice to meet you, I'm Mary lou. You can call me Ms. Sturniolo if you want though. Im making dinner and there's always room for one more stomach!" His mom said while stirring the pot. "Thanks, I'm basically starved and can't wait to eat whatever you have in that pot..!" I stated. "Let's go to my room until food is ready." He advised. I placed my shoes and back pack on the floor next to the front door, taking his hand that was pulling me. We ran up the stairs and he opened the door to his room. Purple LED lights, dark green blanket on the bed, a tv, pictures of him and his friends, family photos, empty cans of pepsi, a desk. Just stuff that goes in a room. "Before you meet them, I just want you to know that the two brothers I have are my triplets. So we look alike, but we have our differences. If that makes sense. If you're ever stuck, Matt has a stubble beard, Nick has blonde hair, and I'm the one with ear length hair." He assured. "Cool.. Cool..."
"Did you know me and my brothers have a YouTube channel? We just hit two million subs! I bet you didn't know that about me!" He shouted. "I didn't know that, we should watch it while eating!" I exclaimed.
"Kids, dinner!" His mom shouted. "I'll go get the food, you can stay here of you want. If you don't come I'll just bring your plate up. But you can search up 'sturniolo triplets' and pick whatever video you want to watch..!" He said as he walked out the door. I picked up the remote and went to YouTube on the Roku tv. Sturniolo triplets... There! I wouldn't want to watch a old video.. But I don't want to watch a video that's too recent. Whatever. I can't choose. I'll just ask him what he likes when he gets back.
__
"Took long enough! I was basically falling asleep!" I said as he brung the plate to my thighs. "Well you didn't. Here's your food."
He pulled out two pepsis from the pockets of his gray sweatpants. Outlining his- I need to stop thinking nasty shit. "I brought Pepsi if you wanted to drink something while eating." He said while handing me it. "Thanks. Ya know, I haven't had soda in three years. Forgot the taste." I spoke as I clicked open the can. "Seriously? That's kinda crazy to be honest" "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I couldn't find a video so I would just let you pick any video you want." "Maybe we can just eat and talk?" He murmured. "Sure, that would be nice."
____two months later____
I popped on my airpods and sat on the bench, scrolling through spotify trying to erase the thought that my mom could've had a bad day. But especially, that she would take it out on me. I can't remember the last time I had a good relationship with my mother. I would usually eat at Chris's house when I knew my mom wouldn't feed me. He knows somethings wrong but whenever he asks, I just change the subject. I don't want him to worry about me. He can worry about other things, like grades or if he doesn't understand a question. But he shouldn't worry about anything I have to say. It's lunch time but I'd rather starve than have to look Alyssa in the eyes. Knowing she was judging me every second she got. I wasn't a chubby girl. It's just that everything I ate would go to my thighs. I did have a small stomach. I did have normal arms. I was normal. I at least wanted to be normal.
I hummed to the tune of the song. Closing my eyes and waiting to feel my alarm go off so I could go back to class. I needed the thoughts out my head. I was hungry and I knew it. I had a job over the summer but my mom took my paychecks when they came in the mail saying, "Family shares money. Don't be greedy because boys don't like that." Her voice surrounded my thoughts.
I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I looked over to see Chris. I took off my airpods, staring at him.
"You aren't at the lunch table so I went to go find you. I have a sandwich though. For you." He smiled. "Thanks, this is probably the last thing I'll eat this week!" I said. Knowing it probably was. His smile fell off his face. I looked into his eyes that looked into mine. "Oh- no, I was joking. Don't uhm take that seriously." I awkwardly said, lying through my teeth. He look worried. The last thing I wanted him to look like. We stared into each other's eyes. Neither of us looking away.
I learned in for a hug. My head rested on his shoulder. "Thanks for the sandwich." I whispered in his ear. His hands rubbed my back. I sighed at leaned back to where I was, unraveling the sandwich he gave me and taking a bite. I put one airpod back in my ear, handing him the other one. "Wanna listen?" I said as I chewed. He took the airpod and put it inside his ear as "slow dancing in the dark" by Joji started playing. I looked at the sky while chewing and taking another bite. "I know something is worrying you." He whispered. I look at him while my cheeks were stuffed. I swallowed. "What?" I sighed. "Y/n. I'm your friend. What's bothering you?" He said. I wouldn't tell him. All I was thinking about were those words and 'give me reasons we should be complete'. "Nothing is bothering me. I-I-I'm sorry if I'm making this friendship hard but.. Uhm.. I think I need to go." I gagged out. Whenever I'm nervous I throw up. So I needed to get out of there as soon as possible. I hated throwing up. As I had my airpods in, 'I want you' by mitski played. I knew he could hear it too.
_____
if you want a part two it'll come soon😓✋
sorry of this was dog shit I'm a new writer- I hope you liked it though. Tell me if you wanna be tagged in the next part 🖤
xo, ali
#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo#y/n#sturniolo x reader
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kind of insane about buck's couch and the whole metaphor surrounding it
because as i said a few days ago in the first episode of season six eddie equates buck's couch to his love life: 'the last two couches came with girlfriends', right? because taylor replaced buck's original couch with hers when she moved in, which could represent how she took over buck's life, and then took it with her when she moved out, leaving buck lonely and missing something and yearning to fill that hole. because if there's one thing we know about buck, especially this season, is that he wants a family. he wants to be loved. he wants to be needed. the couch represents that need.
and then during this domestic conversation with eddie and chris, buck expresses a concern about 'picking the right couch this time'. which clearly means he's going forward a lot more cautiously, looking for a serious relationship.
i think it's important to note that eddie and buck are around each other a lot in the beginning of this season. in subtle, domestic ways.
because, and i don't remember who he's talking to, i think it's either buck or eddie, bobby says something this season that i think is very prevalent to their relationship. take stock of what you have in life. appreciate what you already have. buck and eddie already have each other in every respect, they just don't realise it. buck especially doesn't realise it.
then buck has his little revelation and decides not to replace the couch. sticks to the armchair. thinks, i don't need anyone. i don't need to fill that yearning.
except it follows him. family. children. the biggest motif in season six is parenthood. and it's all buck wants. so after the lightning strike when his mother offers to buy him a couch, he's content. for a while. because he's filling some of those holes with familial love that he was always starved of. (let's not get into buck's parents and over-compensating for when he gets hurt i'm not ready for that conversation)
don't even TALK to me about buck going over to eddie's when he's sick of the company, because eddie doesn't count. he's not a guest in their home. he falls asleep on eddie's couch. something something things that they already have. a home that he already has. a yearning that could be filled if he just opened his eyes.
i think it's VERY IMPORTANT that kameron gives birth on buck's couch. has buck's biological kid that he is forced to give away. stains his couch. irreparably. he has to throw it out, the couch that his mother got him, just as he has to give away the baby.
now, buck suggesting he and natalia go couch shopping could be interpreted as this being a serious relationship. that buck is committing. taking that leap. picking the 'right couch'.
i do not see it that way.
i see that buck is shaken, he just got something that was important to him ripped away from him, tearing that hole wide open again. and this time it's extra painful because it's not a girlfriend, it's a child. i will maintain to my dying day that a child is all buck wants (and again, already has!! in chris!). this is shown over and over with how good he is with kids, with jee, how he's a schoolteacher in his dream, how he buys kameron and connor's kid that firefighter onesie. this is important to him, emotional, so he's left bereft. natalia is... there. buck recedes back into himself, back into old habits, and starts grasping. clinging onto someone, anyone. natalia was just there.
i think this will be very important in season seven especially considering the revelation buck had in his coma dream. that he is important. he is worthwhile. he has had a positive impact on everyone's lives. part of his character development now, as he learns to navigate this new confidence, should be that he learns to take what he wants. learns to let himself be happy. learns not to settle for less than he deserves.
i don't think he and natalia have that level of chemistry. i think this will be a harmful relationship for him, but ultimately a healing, learning experience.
so, my endgame for season seven!!! my ideal scenario, involving this very clearly thought out couch metaphor... is buck realising he doesn't need a new couch. realising that he's grasping for something he already has. a partner, a kid, a family. that he already has a couch. eddie's couch. and so he moves in with them and LETS HIMSELF BE HAPPY GODDAMIT-
#911#evan buckley#evan buck buckley#eddie diaz#911 season 6 spoilers#911 season 7 spec#buddie#long post#911 meta
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Hey, Good Omens fandom, I need you.
I’m having a shit evening. I’m down & lonely. Life doesn’t always work out as you’ve hoped & planned. Sometimes you make a decision that you think is ‘safe’ but it doesn’t actually make you happy. At all.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got two amazing kids, and I’d kill for them, but…fuck me, I’m lonely. Lonely and touch starved and attention starved and just generally starved.
I suppose it helps me write. (Yes, I write.)
Speaking of which, this is where I need you!
Tell me about your genderfluid Crowley headcanons. What do they wear?
I’m writing them right now, and I’ve probably dressed them for three fics’ worth, but still. What does your genderfluid or nonbinary Crowley wear? During the day, in the evening, on a night out?
Give me your headcanons.
Fandom assemble! Please, for the love of Someone, cheer me up before I cry.
#genderfluid crowley#good omens#crowley#david tennant#my gender is crowley#gender#I need to cheer the fuck up
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thing that might be obvious but still suddenly hit me like live fish to the face when i was not listening in class today:
luffy as a child hated being alone (still does, but it was more obvious back then) and knew that shanks and his crew would be leaving someday (leaving him alone, with only makino as his friend, but that's only one person, and shanks has a whole crew full of people)
shanks will not take luffy, because he's a child (because he's weak) so luffy feels like he needs to prove he's grown up (needs to prove he's strong) so maybe shanks will change his mind (so maybe shanks won't leave him)
what do the two strongest adults luffy knows (shanks and grandpa, one is going to leave, the other is almost never around) have in common? scars around their left eyes
luffy is not afraid of being hurt (it's worse to be alone than you be hurt) so of course he stabs himself next to his left eye (to have a scar like all the strongest people he knows)(to be strong)(to not be left alone again)
"When I was not listening in class today" me when I quit high school lmfao so real. I used to spend hours in class writing fanfics. Most of my best works were written in the middle of Philosophy at 8 am.
Oh. Yeah. Luffy's abandonment issues. Yeah. It's quite obvious that he's willing to go to extreme methods to avoid being alone. Relatable little shit. Not gonna call it self-harm but I just want to say that stabbing your cheek and being willing to starve to death (WCI) to not end up alone is a bit um.............. No, yeah, self-harm. Yeah. Not in a conventional way but y'know. It is what it is. We don't talk enough about how serious it is because "haha silly funny boy is so dramatic he stabs his face when he's a kid" but like- He- He stabs his fucking face when he's a kid because being alone and bored is way worse than getting hurt. He feels so lonely. At least he had a friend with Uta but then she suddenly disappeared from his life?? Without any warning?? And he ended up all alone again. I understand why he would want Shanks to take him with him no matter what. Even if he has to hurt himself to prove he's strong. He's been doing that for years. And, okay, WCI isn't exactly just for Sanji not to leave him but more for Sanji to realize Luffy needs him but, uh, same thing. Like it can be both to help Sanji and to be a lil bit tiny selfish in the sense of "if he leaves me I am killing myself" which is quite exactly what happens. Gay ass captain. Can't stand him. This is not healthy nor normal behavior irl btw but if you make it all poetic like that I am willing to let it slide. Love it, even. I love it.
But yeah, Luffy has a bit of a problem there. Somebody take him to therapy.
#he's just like me fr#i get it baby abandonment issues fucking suck#this is the first time i am not projecting like he genuinely has something fucked up going on#i love him for that he's so complex#one piece#monkey d. luffy#tw self harm#tw suicide mention
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I wanna make some things like very clear to the new Vox Machina fans coming from the animated show to our humble home. Really I wanna settle some of the score about my best girl Vex'ahlia.
Now I know, I know that with so incredibly much source material to try and condense into just 36 22 minute episodes naturally some stuff is gonna be cut out or missed or edited, and TLOVM is it's own canon true, but what with it being Vox Machina but abridged it makes sense to me that it can be directly compared and perhaps found a bit lacking in regards to its source material, and so here I go.
They're not treating Vex with total fairness to be honest. A lot of her best early moments in VM are taken out or given to other people in TLOVM, like her first brush with death with Delilah in the Briarwood arc (it was her that got attacked by Delilah and almost died, not Keyleth, but like this one I get ig. The Twins and Percy held like the campaign record for being down and hurt the most like Sam had to deliberately change that so this wasn't hours of the twins just being near death like I'm not happy but I get it), or season two changing how she found Trinket (Vax was nowhere near her when she ran into those poachers) and mainly the portrayal of Vex as this snippy, mean, jealous, callous, unfeeling bitch without any of the uncertainty inherent in her or the tender moments to flesh her out.
Like in VM proper she's rude and a little snippy sure but that's borne of an established backstory of emotional neglect and the crushing trauma of poverty and Vax literally being the only other person who genuinely loved and cared for her after the mother who's arms she was ripped from was burned alive, (y'know after Syldor the worst dad god ever created literally abandoned them with their mother for 10 years while they were dirt poor (but happy, Elaina is the best mom to live ever), dragged them away from her for 5 in which time he destroyed her and Vax's self esteem, let the whole racist ass town he was ambassador of harass them along with harassing them himself and forced them to be the perfect quiet little doll heirs he only decided he wanted after 10 years of no 'true blooded' kids of his own) and then when they ran away, saw their mother had been murdered in her home by a fucking dragon had to spend the next several years at only like 15ish stealing (in Vex's case haggling and hunting) to survive! Like Vex's hangups around money are from the period in her life where she as controller of her and Vax's meager finances was in charge of making sure they didn't starve to death in the woods somewhere, at 15 she and Vax had to keep themselves alive with no help from anyone but each other, her haggling any and everyone down is a direct response to that.
And oh boy Syldor? Syldor? And his bullshit expectations and neglect are the reason she's so chronically unsure of herself and so desperate to keep being Vax's favorite. You think Keyleth is unsure of herself? Buddy you have seen nothing. Vex's confidence in herself is a facade and literally the longer you know her the more obvious that becomes. She's so slow to let other people in and equally slow to trust cuz she's been hurt so brutally and the few times she relaxes enough to do something for herself (side eyeing the broom incident), she gets narratively punished for it! Bro, the night before meeting with Syldor Percy finds her in tears obsessively polishing her armor cuz she's so desperate even after all this time to prove to Syldor that she is someone, that she isn't the diluted little half-breed Syldor always looked down his nose at (and then Percy, who never again was fooled by her false airs and stepped up to do The Sweetest thing god ever created), like...she's fucked up! And lonely! And wants nothing more than a stable home and people who genuinely like her.
Them leaving their home in when the conclave first attacked Emon drove her to tears because it was the first home she'd had in so long and now they had to leave it. She's got so much depth and she is so endlessly kind too. Every time she sees someone whose circumstances mirror her own she doesn't hesitate to open her purse for it. (her freeing those kids??? Anyone???) She's no Keyleth or even Pike to be sure but she's so sweet. Keyleth goes tearing off up the Sun Tree, Vex follows. Grog gets swindled by some punkass merchant? Vex goes tearing off after him, all her interactions with Vax to be honest she might have Little Sister disease but still, she is so endlessly kind and good and it's not as overt as Pike's genuine goodness or Keyleth's earnestness, it's slightly more subtle but always present. She's the beating heart of Vox Machina, she encourages them all, (just look at what they tell Pelor I mean.... And and I could go on and on about how the fact that she's the champion of the god of Life, Light and the Sun means so much narratively but I mean I doubt I need to I mean it's Pelor), They all look to her and Vax for guidance, look at what they do to fucking Saundor for him merely taunting her, (yes it's more deep than that I know), they literally get stuck in hell and wait there, in the middle of HELL for her cuz they can't/won't move on without her.
She's brilliant, and clever, and broken and 'greedy' and a bitch yes true, but she's so much more than that, and I'm not even gonna tell you to watch the podcast cuz fuck Orion tbh and y'know I am a hater and a gatekeeper both and am totally fine being in the little niche of of vox machina likers, but if you want substance, if you want all of her because god is she compelling, then take your cues from the podcast and not the show.
The show is new, and still ongoing, and I hope they start letting her shine as she was always meant too in later episodes, but she is the heart and soul of Vox Machina and y'all better put some respect on the name of Lady Vex'ahlia De Rolo, Champion of Pelor, Baroness of the First House of Whitestone and Grandmistress of the Grey Hunt, Coinmistress and Treasurer of the Tal'dorei Council.
#vex'ahlia#critical role#vox machina#vex'ahlia de rolo#the legend of vox machina#the legend of vox machina spoilers#vox machina spoilers#i guess#I'll not sppil the show it was only out like 3 days ago but VM ended like 5 years ago and i dont think i need to tag it but whatever 😒
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Analyzing "Demon in the Wood" (book) - Part 1
(Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 and Part 5)
Apparently you seemed to really want this (and so did I 😏) so here is the first part of me analyzing one of the best and, simultaneously, most heartbreaking books in the Grishaverse.
I'll analyze the Graphic Novel after I finish with the book.
(Warning ⚠️: get the tissues)
This book got depressing from the first page.
It's really sad that Eryk (I'm going to call him Eryk in this meta) already knows that neither otkazat'sya nor Grisha will ever accept them. They are unnatural even to the Grisha. Something to be feared and held in a distance. They have powers themselves, they are Grisha. But their rarity makes them both prized and frightening. They cannot truly belong even with their own people.
He already feels like an outcast at his thirteen. And it makes him bitter, sad and lonely.
That kid has been physically and emotionally ruined. Remember, that all these injuries are a result of him trying to make friends.
What....
If I were him, I would have three panic attacks, two breakdowns, six outbursts of tears and screams and then I would be knocked out for a week. ☠️
And that boy managed to lie convincingly after an attempted murder against him. He's a natural.
A result of him lying his whole life about:
1) his name
2) his parentage
2) where he came from
4) and all the other things I can't remember now
He has been lying his whole life so much that it comes out naturally to him.
Imagine how frightened he was from that attack to scream and yell so much to the point that his voice was almost gone.
(THIS BOOK IS AN EMOTIONAL WRECKAGE WHY THE FUCK DID I HAVE THE IDEA TO DO THIS--)
It's so sweet how he calls her "Madraya" 🥺 (for those who don't know, it means "mom", "mommy"😭)
It's also sad (the word "sad" is going to be used 29383 times for this meta) how he doesn't allow himself to feel vulnerable and affectionate with his mother like the little boy he is. He wants to. But can't. Baghra keeps telling him how tough he must be (fuck that honestly 😒). But even ourselves feel the need to seek the comfort of our mother or father sometimes. For them to hug us and tell us it's alright. And Eryk feels that too but can't express it and just represses it. 😔
HE ONLY WANTED TO PLAY
To play with his new friend, become carefree and have fun. To know how these feelings feel like for once. To become the child he is and go on an adventure!
But that joy was taken from him.
Now he feels ashamed. What will his mother think of him? A foolish child that went off to play. That's not what she taught him at all. He gave in to his boyish desires and he feels embarrassed for it. No child should feel like that honestly. 😔
As much as I don't like Baghra exactly, this is badass. That look must have been deadly af.
JUST HUG THAT POOR BABY FOR GOD'S SAKE OR I WILL!!
Seriously, I know Baghra had a difficult life and all. But would it hurt you if you hugged him just once??
I bet that lack of physical affection had affected him to the point that he MUST had been touch starved. It's no wonder he kept touching Alina whenever he could. The name reveal scene comes to mind now. When he took her hands and guided them around his waist. He's craving love.🥲
Ah, yes, he also has daddy issues.
He never met his father and his mother refused to even speak of him. Heck, he probably never even had a father figure in his life. And it's not like Baghra said "He was a good man" and all. She talked about him as a meaningless mortal figure that is beneath him. Just a person that is only dust. Not his father.
(Baghra, I'm in your walls for traumatizing our boy🔪)
Can you imagine how many times they had to do that? Him practicing his new name, his new lines every month like a parrot that imitates words? Not only did he not have a home but also people to connect with and a name (his true name) for everyone to know. His whole life he was hiding his true self.
Anyway, that's all Tumblr allows me to write for now. We will continue in part 2, babes 💛
#I'm really gonna bring the “depressed Christmas” to you with this meta 😭#demon in the wood#demon in the wood meta#meta#the darkling meta#grishaverse#shadow and bone#the darkling#pro darkling#aleksander morozova#baghra morozova
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