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22foramen · 13 days

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_____________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . Personal

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ⁭ Astro Observations #1

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭

⋆ ★

DISCLAIMER! This post is based mainly on my natal chart, personal experience and opinions, so take what resonates and leave what doesn't. I also included acquaintances' charts and their perspectives and confirmed my observations with the help of astrology databanks (celebrities' birth charts). If one (or more) of the observations in this post happen to be similar to other creators, please inform me, so I can tag their page. I am open to questions, opinions and debates. I do not own any of the photos on this post, they are just for ✨aesthetic reasons✨. Thank you for reading my post and I hope it will help you heal & find yourself💞.

+18? TW!

Everyone can have an addiction, it is not limited only to the 12th house Lilith placement. But we can conclude that Lilith in the 12th house person is more inclined to get addicted to escapism than being dependent on the subject of addiction.

Let's say both the 12th and 8th house Lilith can deal with 🌽addiction. 8th house Lilith has a wound surrounding power and control, so they will search for a coping mechanism that will prove to themselves their own power and autonomy. For the 12th house Lilith, this is about a fear of perceiving the reality they are in (dissociation). Their wound encircles the toxic environment they live in, so they indulge in the most satisfactory and 'safest' type of escapism according to their circumstances.

Lilith in the 12th house combined with noticeable 6th house placements can indicate prominent awareness towards their addictions or their ways to escape reality. That type of person who smokes but is fully aware of the consequences it has on their body. It makes sense because the 6th house is work, self-improvement and health-oriented (perhaps with health difficulties), therefore Lilith in the 12th house here can be a bit of a challenge in this lifetime, so they might be more motivated to heal. I think we can consider this dynamic not only for the 12th-6th houses but for all opposing houses.

Having the Moon and Neptune in the same house might indicate an "illusion of comfort" in childhood, especially if the moon is badly aspected. It can be pinpointed to a confusing relationship with a parent; being gaslighted maybe. The house can represent in which area the confusion is/was. If this happens in the 10th house, there also might be a 'single mom' dynamic here, whether both parents were there or not.

Taurus Rising with Scorpio Venus looks best when confident. Their eyes are very fierce when focused on their goal or task. Big cat energy🐅. They are like wild cats waiting for the right time to attack their prey 😩. 10/10 Certified mommy vibes. Period 💅

Both the 22° Saturn and 22° Sun indicate a restricting father/paternal figure.

For the 22° Sun, the impact is 'more personal' and it affects their confidence and identity. These people's personalities might have been repressed in their childhood. In terms of how they have been repressed, we should check the Saturn placement and/or the Saturn Persona Chart.

For the 22° Saturn, the experience is more 'detached' in comparison with the Sun person. The individual might have a more grounded sense of self than the Sun person, but the Saturn Return period is going to be crucial. This can also imply a change in careers or finally healing something in regard to their career because Saturn rules Capricorn rules Medium-Coeli.

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nyankochan · 1 year

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A Mother’s Love II

Malleus x fem!reader (platonic)

Summary

As a kid, Malleus had no parental figure outside of his grandmother. When at times she was too busy as queen, he found comfort in the embrace of one of his Royal guards, who happened to be Lilia’s lover.

TW: mentions of violence, miscarriage, depression

Part 1: here

word count: 2.5K

You hum a nameless tune whilst you help Malleus get ready for the day. You button up his shirt, taking careful consideration to not wrinkle the fabric. You slip a black sock on each foot and hook a pair of suspenders to his shorts. Malleus watches, being unusually quiet, as your dainty fingers delicately tie his bow tie around his neck.

“(Name)?”

“Yes, my prince?”

“What is that song you’re humming?”

You offer a smile. Some of Malleus’s black locs fall over his face, which you carefully slick back out his vision. You straighten the bow, pulling the entire outfit together in a cute, yet poised outfit for the heir of Briar Valley.

“Hm, it’s a song I heard so long ago that I forgot the words to it,” you say. “I can only remember the tune, but it was very special to me.”

“If it was so special to you, then why did you forget it?” Malleus asked innocently.

“I’m old my dear prince,” you chuckle. “Sometimes, we adults become forgetful as we age.”

“Oh…” Malleus pouts. You tilt your head in confusion, concerned by his sudden mood switch. “Does that mean, you’ll one day forget about me too?”

“My prince…” You kneel back down to his height and take his small hands into your own. You caress his palm with your thumb, a small yet comforting gesture. “There’s nothing in this world that could make me forget about you. You’re that special to me.”

“You won’t forget me even as you grow older?” Malleus asked hopefully.

“Not even after the day I die. I promise you that, Malleus.”

Malleus hugs you. The sudden force almost threw you off balance. Once steady, you reciprocate the gesture. His grip tightens, refusing to let go. For a while, you hold him, providing the warmth and security he needed.

Malleus never knew his parents. You vaguely remember them yourself, so you weren’t much help in educating him on them. Not like it really mattered to him. He had his grandmother, whom he adored. But with how busy Her Majesty was as queen, she couldn’t always spend time with him in the way she wanted. The next closest maternal figure he had was you, and Lilia could be considered a paternal model. Between the two of you, you practically raised Malleus. You witnessed his first steps. Comforted him during each nightmare, and even taught him bits of magic.

No matter how old you got, Malleus would always have a soft spot in your heart for he was the child you and Lilia could never have.

•••

Some years ago

For centuries, the fae and human race clashed. The two races had difficulties coexisting due to the imbalance of power. The fae, naturally gifted with magic, taught their skills to the weaker humans. As humans strengthened, they turned on their allies, and war broke out the battle for dominance.

Malleus’s grandmother, Her Majesty Queen Malefica attempted to forge peace between the two races, but it was a tedious process that often resulted in more fighting than compromise. You and Lilia were top commanders in the army, and often witnessed firsthand the treacherous outcomes of failed negotiations. Fighting between fae and human. Magic used carelessly that caused more destruction thad good. The loss of lives, some of your closest comrades, and others, innocent bystanders. The worst of them all: yours and Lilia’s unborn child.

“Lady Y/n? Can you hear me? Lady Y/n!”

You awake with a start. Gasps for air quickly turned into a pained wince. You recognize the medical wing by its ancient supplies and alcoholic scent. However, everything is hazy. And your body feels like it’s on fire, particularly in the abdomen region.

“My lady, are you all right?” The doctor asked. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Four?” You say confused. You grip your head feeling the headache coming on. “What happened?”

The doctor frowned, looking almost guilty. “Im sorry my lady but-“

Your heart sank. It started to return to you. The skirmish between Briar Valley and the Land of Heroes. They surprisingly had stronger mages and warriors than your troops anticipated. While you had more numbers, you were slowly forced to retreat when one of the mages used illegal transformation magic. Briar Valley’s Queen had a unique magic that allowed her to turn into a dragon. This mage used a phony knockoff spell that not only killed him and several of his comrades but many of your allies.

You remembered trying to save one of the younger cadets. In the process you were wounded. Your defense spell was overpowered but the enemy mage’s temporarily boosted magic. The flame attack burned through the skin and seared the lining of your stomach and parts of your uterus.

“I’m sorry to tell you this Lady Y/n, but you were six weeks along. Your uterus was so badly damaged in the attack that there was nothing I could do magic wise to save your child. I’m so sorry.”

You heart stopped in that moment.

You were pregnant?

With Lilia’s child?

You didn’t know. If you had did you never would’ve foolishly took to the battle field. Tears prickled your eyes and you felt yourself begin to hyperventilate. The heart monitor started beeping.

“Lady Y/n? Please calm yourself!” But the doctor’s words fell on deaf ears.

You were pregnant. You and Lilia were gonna be parents. And now that future was stripped away from you both for good.

•••

“(Name)?” Malleus calls, tugging on your sleeve. You snap back into reality becoming aware of your surroundings. The concerned prince stares at you, green eyes wide with worry.

“I’m sorry my prince, I seemed to have zone out,” you chuckled. “Shall we go get breakfast?”

“Can we get ice cream?” He asks hopefully. Your eye twitches, buy your do your best to hide your irritation. You swear, you regret the day Lilia got him hooked on it.

“Maybe later,” you say with a soft smile. “How about some pancakes?”

Luckily, the young child’s eyes sparkle nonetheless. “Yay! Pancakes!” He raises his arms to be picked up, which you do without a second thought.

As you walk down the long halls to the kitchen, the prince excitedly babbles, talking about all the things he wanted to do with you for the day, including taking a walk through the gardens, visiting the gargoyle statues by the palace entrance, and wanting to go to the town. You just smile and nod along, not quite sure how to fulfill all his requests in a singular day. After all, you had other responsibilities to handle that you usually took care of when Malleus went down for a nap, one being filling out some of the military reports.

You weren’t as active in the military as you used to be. But, you supposed the fighting spirit never died and you wanted to help out the best you could despite what happened in the best. You never stepped foot on the actual field since then, but you will still train recruits from time to time and it was best you handled any paperwork instead of leaving it to Lilia. He didn’t have your patience to fill out several page reports, and if Her Majesty wanted anything to be legible, let alone done, it was best to let you handle the tedious tasks.

Once in the kitchen, you begin gathering the ingredients to begin breakfast. Usually, Malleus wanders off but today, he was insistent on helping you. Which you didn’t mind.

“Ok, just add a cup of flour into that bowl,” you instruct. Malleus nodded. He holds the measuring cup with two hands, intently focusing on the bowl. He tilts the cup over, but the flour was packed into the cup and didn’t come out right away. Malleus wore a confused look and tapped the bottom a little too hard. The flour falls out in a clump, kicking up a cloud of white dust that covers his face. He blinked a few times in confusion.

You snicker, trying to bite back your laughter. Malleus pouts and looks to be on the verge of tears. “Now now, no need for the waterworks,” you say, taking a wet towel to wipe his face. “What’s baking without a little mess?”

“You’re not mad?” Malleus whimpers, rubbing his eyes.

“Mad? Least you got majority in the bowl!” You scoff. “Lilia couldn’t even do that even if I did it for him.”

You loved your husband. You really did. But cooking, baking or anything really involving being in the kitchen was just not his forte. He had no affinity for it at all. It made you wonder how in the hell did he survive centuries on his own before you two got together. Lilia couldn’t even make a scrambled egg properly. Last time he did, it was simultaneously burnt and purple.

“Lilia really can’t cook, huh?” Malleus said in between giggles.

“Not even a little, so it’s my job to make sure you don’t end up like him.” You ruffle Malleus’s hair before picking up a whisk and giving it to him. “Come now. You only grow if you learn from your mistakes.”

It took longer than usual, but you and Malleus finished the batter. You were patient with the boy, letting him take his time measuring out ingredients and only guiding him slightly when it came to storing things in. You only took back over when it came to using the stove, because he was still a little too young to work with the heated device.

In the end, he was quite proud of himself when the finished product came out a crisp golden brown.

“It’s so good! Do you think grandma would like some?” Malleus asked as he shoveled more food into his mouth. You smile softly.

“I’m sure Her Majesty would greatly appreciate your sentiment.”

You two were enjoying each other’s presence and the calmness of the morning. The skyline was an ombré of oranges. Your tea had finally cooled off enough for it to not burn your tongue. Although Malleus was now sticky from syrup, he nearly cleaned his plate with no complaints.

That calmness was soon interrupted by a frantic servant running into the dining room.

“Lady (name)! Lady (name)!”

Her sudden entrance startled you and you spilt a bit of tea on to your shirt. “Dear, what’s the commotion so early in the day?” You ask, trying to wipe the stain.

“I’m sorry, my lady, but Lord Vanrouge returned in a frantic haste. He told me he needed your presence immediately!”

Your heart skipped a quick beat. “I apologize, but please watch the prince for me!” Without a second thought you teleported away.

Malleus stared, mouth slightly agape, at your now empty seat. Tears began to pool in his green eyes. “(Name)….”

•••

You soon arrive at your destination: the infirmary. You and Lilia had a special link that you both created once you were finally married. The link allowed you both to transport to the other in an instant regardless of where they were. It took a lot of magic to enact the seal and couldn’t be broken. You quite literally threatened Lilia with his life to don’t do anything to betray your trust in the relationship. The bond was about as sacred as the wedding band on your finger.

Never mind that.

Your current concern was your husband that was pacing the room while a few doctors scrambled around the room.

“Lilia!”

Lilia perked up at your call. He quickly rushed to you and grabbed your hands. “Dearie, thank goodness you’re here!”

“Whatever is the matter?” You brush Lilia’s bangs out of his face. He looked clearly distressed and their was a bit of blood trickling down his temple from an open wound. “You’re hurt!”

“Never mind me. Come here-“

He led you urgently too where the doctors were gathered: a small bassinet where a small infant lay. The baby had pale skin that was clearly flushed red with fever. They also had silvery white hair and the clothes were by no means suitable for a child that small. They were dirty, ripped and exposed open abrasions that who knew how old they were. You gasp.

“Oh my god, Lilia! You stole a child?!”

“No! What do you take me for?!” Lilia exclaimed. “I found this little one alone in an abandoned cabin on my excursion. He was in bad shape, but I don’t know much about caring for a human child. With your medical knowledge and experience, I figured you were the best to call.”

You trace a finger around the baby’s ears which you notice were not pointed like fae’s. The baby cringed and then began to wail. You take the stethoscope from the doctor and then look to your husband.

“Let me see what I can do.”

Lilia placed a kiss on your temple. “Thank you, dearie.”

After a thorough check up as well as treating the baby’s injuries, you thankfully found nothing too serious. He had early symptoms of pneumonia that were luckily caught soon enough to begin some treatment. Other than that, the baby just had signs of exhaustion and hunger.

Once you had the child bathed, you had Lilia bring some of Malleus’s old baby clothes that didn’t fit anymore. You swaddled the infant tightly and held him close against your chest protectively. He was a heavy sleeper, only briefly opening his eyes periodically to showcase a stunning set of violet irises.

“Do you think this child’s parents are looking for him?” You ask Lilia, who sits on a nearby chair with a heavy sigh.

“I’m not sure. There wasn’t anyone for miles. I think the poor fella’s been abandoned.”

Your heart aches. You wonder who would be so heartless to leave a baby, let alone a child, by themselves to get sick and possibly die. It angered you and at the same time, made you extremely sad.

“Lilia,” you begin. “If it’s alright with you and Her Majesty, I’d like to keep the child for the time being.”

Lilia looks to you with surprise. “(Name)-“

“He has no where else to go,” you interrupt. “Please? I couldn’t bare to send him off to someone who may not provide him with the same love and care I know we can.”

Lilia remains silent, pondering what you said. After a few tense moments he finally signs. “Alright.”

You smile. You place an endearing kiss on Lilia’s forehead. The baby wakes. He doesn’t cry. Just stares absentmindedly at his surroundings. His violet eyes then meet yours. Somehow, he wiggles a hand out of the swaddle. You extend your pinky, which he grabs tightly with a small fist.

“What should we call him?” You ask.

Lilia peers over your shoulder. He then smiles. “How about Silver?”

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brianwashere · 9 months

Note

So, hear me out. A male reader that is Roy‘s teenage brother. Roy and Jason started dating a few months ago (bcs JayRoy gives me life) and Jason starts hanging out at Roy‘s home more often and is initially really cold to reader (because it‘s Jason, he needs his time). But eventually he really warms up to reader and becomes almost a paternal figure? Just maybe? For me? Please?

-🌱

You are so real for that 🌱.

Have this as a little post op treat! I hope it went well and your happy with it!

**I do not own any characters or part of the franchise from DC**

Pairing: teen!male!reader x platonic!father figure!Jason

Genre: family? Found family?

Summary: go to req

Tw: cussing

Your older brother didn’t have many partners. Serious partners. A few flings, some one night stands, nothing permanent. So when Jason showed up you expected it to be just like that

So when he never even recognized your presence—and when he did he was an asshole—you expected it to just blow over and have him gone in a week max.

The one week mark was 3 weeks ago.

“So…what’s the deal with Jason?” You asked Roy one morning after they’d been together for about a month.

“The…deal?” He asked, confused.

“Well is he like—friends with benefits? A quick fling? One night stand that’s happened 15 times? A booty call?” You suggest, Roy’s face getting more sour with every label you throw out.

“What?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly irritated.

“He’s just been spending more time here and I just thought maybe you shouldn’t sleep here with your fling—“ Roy cut you off.

“He’s not a fling!” Roy yelled.

His tone surprised you. Sure he yelled at you sometimes, but never over something as small as this.

“Jeez man, ok. Calm down…” You muttered.

Your older brother ran a hand down his face.

“He’s my boyfriend. Not friend’s with benefits. Not a one night stand. Not a fling. Not a hooker. He’s my boyfriend.” Roy explained in a clipped tone.

You just blinked at him.

‘Seriously?’

“Mkay…” You said skeptically, grabbing your backpack for school.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You and your best friend, Matty, walked out of school together. You two always walked as far as you could together before you had to go separate ways.

“—No that’s what I was telling him because what if they actually want that and just don’t know how to tell him.” You explain to them.

“Yeah, yeah, I get your point.” Matty agreed. “On the topic of relationships…” they started, laughing some.

“How’s your brother and that asshole going? He gone yet?” They teased.

“No! No! No! You’ll never believe it—hold on. Today. This morning. Roy told me they were like—an actual relationship. Like. Boyfriends.” You spoke quickly, still in shock at your stupid brother and his stupid boyfriend.

“No fucking way.” Matty barked a laugh, shoving you slightly.

“Yup.” You smiled at their reaction and pushed back against them.

“It’s just so fucking annoying. Jason’s such an asshole. He’s so—so mean. Roy can do better. I know he can!” You groaned in annoyance.

“Hey man, I’m sure it’s not actually permanent. Just give it time, they’re bound to split eventually.” Matty advised.

“Yeah yeah…” You sighed as the split in paths approached. “Anyway…bye Matty! See you tonight? Street race, right?”

“Yeah man! I’ll pick you up at 8:00.” Matty confirmed.

“How gentlemanly of you.” You teased, walking off towards your apartment.

Matty rolled their eyes and waved.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You walked inside and your eyes were assaulted by the image of your brother and Jason cuddled on top of the couch in the living room. Cuddled was the PG version of it. They were more like cramming each other’s tongues down their throats.

You grimaced and made a face like someone shoved a lemon slice in your mouth. Even that would be a more pleasurable experience than this.

You started to walk off when Roy finally noticed you and shoved Jason off because Jason was keen on ignoring you. He gave you a look when Roy’s attention was turned to you.

“Hey, how was school?” Roy was breathless and had disheveled.

“You have spit on your chin.” You deadpanned, walking to your room.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You were sitting on the couch, waiting for Matty to pick you up when Jason walked into the living room. You glanced at him then returned to scrolling on your phone.

That was until Jason slumped down on the other side of the couch.

You side eyed him but didn’t say anything. He put his feet on the coffee table.

“Take your feet off the table.” You instructed.

Jason glanced at you and then at the table.

“Yours are on the table.” He pointed out.

“I live here. You don’t.” You said simply, not looking up from your phone.

“Where are you going?” Jason asked, sounding only half interested.

“Why do you care? Thought you’d be face sucking my brother right now.” You spit back.

“We did. Lots. Passionately. He’s showering right now.” Jason gave in too much detail for you.

“Surprised you’re not in there with him.” You snipped back.

“Is it a street race?” Jason asked.

That made you look at him, curious.

“How’d you know?” You asked, eyeing him.

“You’re dressed like it. And Roy told me you sneak out to them a lot.”

“S’not sneaking out…I’m not exactly keeping it a secret…” That was half a lie, you never brought it up and would definitely try to hide it if you could but Roy just knows.

“You didn’t hear this from me. But, south Blüdhaven has some pretty good races. And the pigs don’t care enough to pull you over there.” His advice seemed so random you had to pause and process the information he just spewed out of his mouth. “You‘ll probably have to watch for that Nightwing dickhead though. He’s got a real thing for setting ‘troubled teens’ on the right path.” Jason’s mouth quirked slightly when he said this. Almost in something akin to…fondness?

“Ok…” Matty texted you saying they were there and to “hurry your ass up.” You sighed and stood up, walking out of the door.

‘That was strange…an interaction with Jason that wasn’t outwardly hostile.’

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

A week or so later you were sitting on the couch again. Roy was gunna be gone for a week or so, “doing something important,” he’d said.

The handle to the door jiggled and you raised your eyebrows at it. You heard the very recognizable sound of a key unlocking the door and waited for Roy to walk in.

To your utmost surprise and dismay, Jason walked through the door. Alone.

“Get a jacket on, we’re going out.” Was all he said.

“What, he’s just giving you a key now—?” You started, angry at Roy for giving some guy a key to where you live.

“Get a jacket on, we’re going out.” He stated again. His voice was firmer this time, irritation singeing the edges.

You paused, contemplating this. You were bored out of your mind. You sighed and stood up, grabbing a jacket and walking out the door with Jason, who locked the door. With his own key.

You looked around the parking garage.

“Where’s your car?” You asked, looking around at the selection of cars.

“I don’t have a car.” Jason stated plainly as he walked away from you.

“Oh, what? So we’re just gunna call a cab?” You sighed, annoyed.

“Nope.” You failed to hide your excitement when Jason walked up to a motorcycle.

“You—you own a bike!?” You exclaimed. He nodded.

“Wear this.” He tossed you a helmet. It collided with your chest with a thunk. You caught it then spun it around, examining it. The helmet was black,—at least you think it was…at one point— coupled with numerous scratches and several stickers that had scuff marks to match.

You pulled the helmet onto your head and clicked the chin strap together.

“How’s it look?” You asked rhetorically. Jason knocked you on the head.

“Too loose. Here.” He reached towards the chin strap but you shoved him away.

“I can do it myself, dumbass.” You grumbled, fumbling with the strap to tighten it.

“Well I’m sorry for trying to keep your head from splattering all over the pavement.” He quipped sarcastically. “Roy wouldn’t like that very much.”

You scoffed.

“And you would?” You pressed him. Half joking, but also not surprised if he said yes.

Jason rolled his eyes.

“You remind me of my brother.”

At this you were at a loss. You didn’t know whether that was good or bad and you weren’t about to ask. You just kept your voice and face neutral. Not that it would’ve mattered; he couldn’t see through the helmet visor.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

The night was filled with high speed driving and greasy diner food. You learned that Jason wasn’t such a bad guy. He even payed for your meal. When he took you home it was probably 1:00 am.

“Get good sleep tonight.” Jason was leaning on his bike with his hands in his pockets.

“That a threat?” You teased, tossing him the helmet.

“It can be if you don’t listen.” He responded, smiling slightly.

“Yeah ok. Goodnight, fuckface.” You said with no real malice in your voice.

“Night, asshole.” He responded with a tone equal to yours. “Yell if you’re getting murdered.” He added

“Mhmm.” You hummed, already walking up the stairs.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Bonus:

When Roy came home he wasn’t expecting much. Maybe a few dirty dishes, some clothes laying around. He knew you could take care of yourself and therefore didn’t need to have someone checking in on you. But that didn’t stop him for asking Jason to pop in every couple of days. Mainly to try and get his brother and partner to at least tolerate each other.

So when he heard two different voices shouting angrily from inside the apartment his mind jumped to the worst. He unlocked the door and mentally braced himself as he pushed it open.

“—OH YOU DUMB BITCH! LOOK AT THE EXIT! RUN AWAY!”

Roy was met with you and Jason sprawled out on the couch, watching a horror movie, shoving your faces with snacks, and yelling at the protagonist. It was an unexpected but not unwelcome sight.

“I’m just saying I would totally survive! Don’t you think I could survive?” You asked Jason.

“Oh you could totally survive! He’s slow as hell!” Jason responded enthusiastically while shoveling popcorn into his mouth.

You two hadn’t so much as glanced at Roy and he cleared his throat to get your attention.

“Oh hey, Roy.” You greeted, eyes still glued to the tv.

“Hey, babe.” Jason acknowledged.

Roy just sighed, smiling despite his annoyance.

“I’m gunna go unpack.” He said, kissing Jason’s head as he passed by.

“We were thinking Chinese for dinner!” Jason called.

“‘We’ who the fuck is ‘we’? I wanted Vietnamese!” You argued.

“Shut up. I’m paying, I get to choose.” Jason responded, shoving you off the couch with his foot.

Roy just rolled his eyes at the banter and headed towards his room.

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ghosttownwherenoonegoes · 9 months

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'Ruined' domesticity - e.m. x gn!reader ft. Uncle Wayne (dad💗)

Summary: You and Eddie are both cuddling in bed after a long day full of all the usual bullshit and just as you reach your threshold consciousness, Uncle Wayne comes home from work and you 'ruin' the moment by launching out of bed to give him a hug. Uncle Wayne would later call it a 'flying tackle', but you won't care. All you ever want is the Munsons home together with you, and they're here. This is just another favourite part of your day, but it always happens right at the end... as Uncle Wayne comes home, you and Eddie come home to yourselves. Home is where the heart is.

A/N: Inspired by a conversation @thefreak0fhawkinshigh and I have had a few times. I couldn't get this little daydream out of my head. If you spot the LOTR reference, I'm giving you a forehead kissie.💗This is self-indulgent as all hell, I just wanna attack Uncle Wayne in a hug and call him dad and feel him hug me back. I just want to be loved by a parent since my own do not care.

TW; this is just fluff but in case it's triggering to anyone, there's swearing in the narrative, Eddie is a squeezer and I describe his hugs as being held by a boa constrictor (positive, affectionate, I adore snakes and Eddie), mentions of unspecified stresses in your lives, reader calls Uncle Wayne 'dad'; there is no familial connection but he's a definitive paternal figure to Y/N, mentions of reader's parents not taking good care of them so Uncle Wayne is very much their father figure and fulfils the role perfectly because of course he does!😭🥺

Gender neutral reader & no coded language.

People who wanted to be tagged: @ali-r3n @jslittlebirdie

Word count: 2, 080.

Finally, finally, you were exactly where you had wanted to be even before you had dragged yourself out of bed this morning.

Wrapped up in Eddie Munson's arms, and he in yours.

Limbs tangled together, heads sharing the same pillow, your arms around one another so tightly that you could feel his heart pounding against the safety of his ribcage and fluttering against your own. You could feel your own heart racing, too, your blood singing in your ears even as you laid there waiting for Morpheus to embrace you.

The 'you' was singular but it included you and Eddie, for nowhere would either of you go where the other couldn't follow.

Eddie hummed contentedly as you pushed your body into his, curling your arms tighter around his shoulders as you nuzzled the cool tip of your nose into the crook of his neck.

"Love you so much, Eddie," you mumbled, carelessly pressing kisses to whatever part of him was nearest, "don't know what I'd do without you."

Eddie had a feeling that you had more to say, so he squeezed you even tighter into him, until not even a sheet of paper could have been slid between your bodies, and awkwardly moved so that he could kiss the top of your head. "I love you too, sweetheart." No matter whether you were mid-intense discussion or half asleep, you and Eddie always said those few words back to each other. Even if such a 'rule' hadn't already been in the Munson Doctrine, you would have made it an addition; Eddie knowing how important he was to you was always a top priority. The thought of Eddie not knowing how loved he was made you feel genuinely sick.

"I just miss you all the time," you sighed, "even when you're right here." You squeezed Eddie and he playfully groaned, pretending to be in pain from the strength of your grip. "Want you around all the time. More I have, the more I want of you. Don't wanna let go."

"Whoa, hey," Eddie grinned a megawatt grin which left your heart aching, giddy was he to know just how loved he was by you, his eyes soft with all the love in the world because he never thought he'd ever have this with anyone, let alone with you, "you don't have to miss me, okay? I promise. I'm right here, sweetheart." He tightened his arms around you again until you felt, for a second, like you were being held by a boa constrictor (and you loved it when Eddie held you like that). It was a silent reciprocation of everything you had just shared, and a mutual need to have you as close to him as possible. In turn, you pressed kisses where you could reach. With you and Eddie, the more affection which was shared, the more the love grew. Your hearts were so big anyway but they were limitless and timeless when it came to each other.

You could never get enough of Eddie; your heart squeezed so much that it made your chest physically ache with the force of all the love you held for him. You both laid there, wrapped up in one another's embrace and not willing to let go for even a second. Little more was said as the both of you wound down for the night. Just holding each other, breathing and thinking and finally finding peace in one another's company after yet another crazy day full of too much to do and little time to do it in, mixed up with all the usual bullshit which life liked to throw at you like you weren't already busy enough.

You and Eddie were creeping closer and closer to your respective threshold consciousness, but just as you allowed yourself to properly settle down with the intention to sleep, you heard the roar of a van coming down through the trailer park, tyres crunching on gravel, and then the sound of a car door opening and closing. Boots bit down on gravel and then concrete, and you froze as you realised that the steps the feet were ascending were the ones outside the trailer. Which meant only one thing:

Uncle Wayne was home.

There was the familiar jangle of keys and before you even realised what was happening, your body was wriggling out of bed. Now that Uncle Wayne was home, there was no way you would relax enough to fall asleep without being able to say hello and give him a proper hug.

"Mm?" Eddie sleepily shuffled around, his hands patting around for you. "Wassit?" It would have been enough to make you get back into bed at any other time, but this was Uncle Wayne. You could cuddle Eddie any time you wanted, but Uncle Wayne was only around for limited hours every day and you always made a point to seize every opportunity for a hug that you could. He was more of a father to you than either of your parents had ever been, and he had only been too honoured the first time you had told him. He was used to you greeting him excitedly and always with some sense of urgency. You had been waiting for this moment all night and now he was here.

"Dad!" You hissed, shaking Eddie gently, "dad's home!" you were desperately dodging Eddie's grabby hands as you tried to untangle yourself from the hot bedsheets which you and Eddie had been sharing for several hours. Finally, you got yourself free, hopping awkwardly on one foot to make sure that you didn't trip over the sheets wrapped around your toes. You moved much faster than your sleep-heavy mind could comprehend as you were already in the hallway by the time your mind told you that your limbs were cold from being in bed for so long. "Dad's home dad's home dad's home!!!!" Your words quickly became nonsensical as your excitement heightened and you ran down the hall, just catching a blur of red and blue flannel closing the front door behind him, a hand deftly locking it, before you launched yourself at it. "Dad!!!"

Uncle Wayne was very used to being attacked when he came home from work. Anyone who knew him, though no one knew him better than you and Eddie, knew that he adored being attacked when he came home. It meant that he was home, that he was safe, that he was loved. Eddie had been throwing himself out of trees and vans and into his Uncle's arms for as long as he could remember, but now you did the same thing... it had been just over a year since you had begun to date Eddie and you were well and truly a Munson now. Honourary, at least. But still... a Munson.

And that meant that you were 'allowed' (encouraged) to indulge in the luxury of doing what Eddie liked to do every morning before school after setting up the trailer so that his dad could reheat dinner, shower and then collapse into the bed Eddie unfolded and set up for him - throw yourself at Uncle Wayne in a hug. But more than that, oh, more than that... you would be caught, held tightly, and feel yourself coming home just like Eddie did, when he did the same.

If anyone other than a Munson tried to do to Uncle Wayne what you and Eddie loved doing, then woe betide them. Being loved by a Munson as a Munson came with a different set of rules, a different way of expressing and sharing love. The only exception to that may well have been Dustin... everyone loved Dustin, and for good reason. He, too, could score an Uncle Wayne hug, but he would not have been allowed a moment of flight beforehand, unlike you and Eddie.

Uncle Wayne's arms were already open for you; he had heard you almost yell Eddie out of his threshold consciousness and then bound down the hallway, through the living room, and then -

home.

Uncle Wayne grunted, a gruff oof as you collided with him in that red and blue flannel you loved so well. He didn't stumble, he didn't falter. No, he merely adjusted his feet, caught you in his arms, and held on tight. "Well, it ain't a proper homecoming 'less someone throws themselves at me." Uncle Wayne's greeting was saturated with laughter, his ocean blues deeply creased at the edges and alight with tender affection. He squeezed you in his arms and you nuzzled in, smiling to yourself as your body took a natural deep breath of its own accord. "Hey there, darlin'," Uncle Wayne ducked his head down to press a kiss to the top of your head; it was all he could see of you. You moved your arms so that instead of being over the top of his flannel, you moved them down and then under his flannel, where it was warmer and closer to your dad. "Take it you missed me?"

"Even when you're here." You squeezed Uncle Wayne around the middle, letting yourself sink into the hug with the man who was more of a father to you than either of your parents had ever been combined. You didn't want to let go but you knew that you would have to eventually. "How was work?"

"Miss you too, darlin'. You and our Eddie." Uncle Wayne sighed between greeting you and answering your question; the exhaustion in his voice made your breath get stuck in your throat. "Oh, same old, y'know." You had the feeling that Uncle Wayne was going to elaborate a little, but before he did, there was a loud and overdramatic sigh from behind you. You gave Uncle Wayne one final big squeeze before you stepped away from him. You stayed close, though, and waited to see if your Eddie would join you in greeting his dad.

"Would you quit stealin' Y/N from me, man?" Eddie's words were harsh, but his tone was soaked with barely restrained laughter as he bounded across the trailer. He skidded to a stop in front of his dad, thought better of it and then jumped at Uncle Wayne, throwing his arms around his dad's shoulders as he pulled himself in.

Uncle Wayne chuckled. "I did no such thing! Y/N attacked me!" He held onto Eddie like if he let go, then Eddie would slip through his fingers like the sands of time. "I ain't gonna complain about that, you know I ain't." Just like with you, Uncle Wayne let himself both sink into his hug with Eddie as well as be the strong wall for Eddie to melt into. The hug between the Munson men went on for longer than the hug you had with Uncle Wayne, but that was okay - you could have a hug from him any time you wanted, all you had to do was ask. And sometimes, you didn't even have to ask; just one look at you, when you were in a certain mood, and Uncle Wayne knew that you needed to be sandwiched between him and his boy for an undetermined amount of time. Uncle Wayne tried to let go of Eddie, but the boy whined and Uncle Wayne smiled to himself and squeezed Eddie tighter. "Easy, son, that's it. You know I ain't lettin' go 'til you want me to. M'right here."

Eddie sniffled and mumbled something like, "never gonna want you to let me go, dad," and your heart melted into a puddle on the floor, right along Uncle Wayne's. You weren't supposed to hear it, only Eddie's dad was, so you let Eddie keep his secret. Finally, Eddie literally wriggled his way free and found his way back to you as Uncle Wayne turned to look around the trailer. He saw the pull out sofa ready for him with the duvet pulled back and the pillows fluffed up, he saw frying pans and dishes on the draining board next to the sink and suspected that dinner leftovers were waiting for him in the fridge (he was right), and that the shower would be ready for him as well with pyjamas and his usual products (it was). His kids had made sure that all he had to do was eat, shower and then sleep, and warmth bloomed in Uncle Wayne's chest like flowers in a garden.

An eternal spring day, deep inside, forever.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x gn!reader #wayne munson #the munsons #eddie and wayne munson #stranger things #stranger things x reader

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chocodollxren · 2 years

Text

𓄹 ❥𝘈 𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘏𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘚𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯❦ 𝘢𝘭𝘭. ,,

summary: you go to hand them their phone but it’s unlocked! and you notice it’s a picture of you! except…? no tws, gn reader, established relationship. paternal figure staff.

❁ཻུ۪۪ ━ ❝ a fullbody picture of you doing something; ❞ they set you doing something such as petting a fluffy animal, reading a book, talking to a friend and happily smiling, or other from afar as their phone lock screen because they thought you were perfect at the time

RIDDLE, trey, jack, JADE, rook, idia, SILVER, crewel.

❁ཻུ۪۪ ━ ❝ a picture you posed for; ❞ they either asked you to pose for them, you asked them to take it for you, or it was such a great picture on magicam he made it his lock screen

ace, jamil, VIL, malleus, sebek

❁ཻུ۪۪ ━ ❝ the two of you together; ❞ they have the two of you or a group photo as their lock screen, with you and him standing next to each other

cater, RUGGIE, azul, kalim, EPEL, vargas, ghosts

❁ཻུ۪۪ ━ ❝ the most unflattering picture of you ever; ❞ they took the ugliest, blurriest, most unphotogenic picture of you someone could ever take and set that as their lock screen. they might know how to take photos, but prefers this, or they clearly don’t.

DEUCE, leona, floyd, LILIA, trein, sam

❁ཻུ۪۪ ━ ❝ lost their phone privileges or no phone; ❞ they are on thin ice and got their phone taken away until further notice by Trein or have no phone

ortho, crowley, GRIM

some filler content. next is third years gyokuro, then an Azul kuding, then a Savanaclaw gyokuro, followed by a funmatsucha-gyokuro Vil/Leona blend for requests! there will be filler content in between ^^. the event post prompts have already been decided and written! <33 gotta go edit some pictures for that. also got to finish my yuma, ellac, and hasa models.

i’d like to think the unflattering photo is like a low budget haikyuu shot during s4. just you with the tiniest pixels and zero though put in the photo.

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 10 months

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Sup any angsty Apollo hc you have? I’m hungry and desperate for yummy angst to gobble up and cry myself to sleep :]

Okay, this took a little while because life, college, and July fourth happened lmao

So. I like to think about just when the purposeful emotional/psychological abuse started and when the physical abuse started between Zeus and Apollo so...TW for abuse talk.

Because, well, when Apollo was young there isn't really a need for Zeus to crack open the bolt - however, we also know from canon that Apollo was subjected to the bolt in his younger years.

Now. To the headcanons!!!!!

During the first thousand or so years of Apollo's life, Zeus was an actual good dad to him (especially compared to Ares). He spoiled both twins excessively because sweet! A couple of kids who aren't failures! Look at them!!! They're already so good with a bow!!! They're so talented!!!

In the Discord, it was mentioned that in Ancient Greece fathers usually took charge of their sons while the mother taught the daughters, so if we apply that to Apollo's life, I think we can assume that maybe, perhaps, there was some psychological abuse going on, but nothing hardcore - probably along the lines of "make me proud or earn my eternal disappointment" *points at Ares*.

The first time Zeus has to actively punish Apollo was because Gaea ordered it - Apollo killed her son Python, and Zeus (being the guy he is) would cave to her wishes. I actually have a fic in store for this convo so here's what I'm thinking:

Zeus would, of course, instantly point the blame at Gaea and deny he had any choice in the matter (even though he has gone against her wishes before...eyes the Titans in Tartarus).

Apollo, who's only paternal figure so far in his life is Zeus, wouldn't question this and only think about how unfair Gaea is (and to be fair, Python had it coming...).

When Apollo returns and he and Artemis are goofing off on Delos, the events of And By The Sun's Light happens and this, I believe, is when it starts slowly trickling into physical abuse zone.

Think about it. You are Zeus, powerful king of the gods, a new, proud father to a couple of twins that you already favor so highly.

Then one day, they both - by happenstance - gain a new domain at the same time.

Oh shit. You think. That's strange. But you shrug and hand them off to Helios and Selene, two of the most powerful Titans on Olympus.

Of course, you still keep an eye on them. You're not stupid, and get biweekly reports from their mentors on their progress - and the unease starts to trickle in.

It increases, in particular, when Apollo starts to amass other domains alongside his music, poetry, prophecy, healing, youth and light.

Truth, knowledge, harmony, ect. are all absorbed into his power arsenal and you, the king of the gods, are now sweating.

This was not suppose to happen, so now, I believe, is when Zeus started to use the "light" zaps (as stated in-series) from his bolt to keep Apollo in line. He doesn't want him to get any ideas after all.

Unfortunately for Zeus, that isn't enough to deter Apollo.

(Sidenote: I also think Zeus didn't want Helios to take "his" place - after all, abusers don't want a positive version of themselves in their victim's lives)

Enter stage left: The Olympian Rebellion.

Ohohoh...

"shit I need to ramp it up" thinks Zeus as he stares at the faces of his wife, brother, and his favorite children.

And ramp it up he does. Of course, Apollo's first stint as a mortal happens here, and man. is it bad. Troy's king is the perfect tool and metaphor for Zeus's own rule to give Apollo (and Poseidon) a taste of what else may happen if he (they) continued to defy him.

It sucks, of course. Apollo's very adamant about it not being a picnic. And for a while, after it's all over, it seems like all's well.

Of course, Zeus doesn't lay off the zaps every now and then, but it's nothing compared to later in Apollo's life.

He even considers Apollo's request to free Prometheus and grants it, because isn't he just such a considerate father?

Really, the first time he had to go gunho on Apollo with the bolt was when he and Heracles got into a fistfight - but really, what kind of king would he be if he hadn't prevented Apollo his sons from tearing Heracles each other apart?

After all, he can't show favoritism now can he?

*insert huge THIS IS SARCASM sign here*

But then...Asclepius happens. This upstart thinks he can meddle with what belongs to the gods? Well, Zeus will teach him a lesson on death - and how permanent it can be!

...he didn't take into account how Apollo would react to his son's death.

Nor the rebelliousness of the action itself.

*Alder rubs her hands together*

alrightly gang. THIS. This is it.

Apollo is turned mortal for a second time, but to Zeus's displeasure, it's actually a pretty good time for him. Admetus is friendly, and the two hit it off rather well - too well, if Apollo's very blatant, embarrassing affection is anything to go by.

Well. This just won't do!

Hmm...Thinks Zeus. What's another punishment that will let the lesson sink in?

He looks down into the Underworld.

Perfect.

So Apollo becomes a god again. He's still pretty sad, but he's feeling better - even moreso when Zeus says he's decided to make Asclepius immortal! He'll be the god of doctors!

Ecstatic, Apollo immediately agrees...and then is forced to watch as Asclepius is locked up and he's forbidden from seeing him.

Not only that, but now...Zeus brings out the eagle eye and the big guns. He alternates between nitpicking Apollo, and praising him.

And he also cranks up the voltage on the bolt, so the lesson lingers.

The Trojan War happens. Zeus simultaneously indulges and denies Apollo's wishes.

And then. *Alder gleefully rubs hands* AND THEN.

ROME HAPPENS.

BUCKLE UP THIS IS WHEN IT GOES DOWN.

Helios fades, and Apollo inherits his power. Think about that. Apollo, an already powerful god inherits the power of a Titan. And not just any Titan, but Helios.

That's a hella lotta power.

...and that's a hella lotta threat in Zeu-oops, sorry, Jupiter's eyes.

(Now Jupiter I think has differences from Zeus, but I haven't really devoted any time to drawing that line between them so stuff may change here. However, Jupiter/Jove had a emphasis on family, so my little spin on that...is right here >:))

Jupiter, like Juno, has the domain of family in Rome. He's seen as the Ultimate Dad TM. And you bet he uses that to manipulate the hell out of Apollo.

"A good son wouldn't do [insert perceived slight here]"

"What kind of example are you setting for your brothers?"

And most of all...

"What would your mother think of your attitude?"

Ow. Talk about a punch to the gut.

So yeah. Rome is when things got BAD. The bolts became a lot more constant. The emotional/psychological abuse was unbearable.

Apollo barely had anybody to go to. His options were limited.

...but the one place he did feel comfortable in was with Commodus.

(hahah, yes, I managed to reel Copollo into this too lmao)

In a classic Apollo move, our favorite god goes from one toxic influence (his father) to another (his boyfriend), really showing how ingrained the normalization of abuse/toxicity in Apollo's life is.

He has no red flag sight. He has no alarm bells.

He could walk right into a situation where the word "abuse" is labeled in CAPS and Red and he'd just go "oh shit, what did I do now?"

And his father is all to happy to "let him know" what he did "wrong".

Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk hoped this was a good ride! :D

#the oracle speaks #riordanverse headcanons #the trials of apollo #harmony & order #apollo #zeus #abuse #emotional abuse #parental abuse #physical abuse #asclepius #commodus #helios #copollo #artemis #leto #toa python #python

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wilsonsmcgillsweatshirt · 8 months

Text

House M.D. One-shot

Tw suicide Tw self-harm Tw assisted suicide Tw Overdosing Tw Drug Use

House keeps living after Wilson's death just so he can keep his promise to Thirteen.

He struggles after Wilson's death, seeking comfort in drugs and alcohol, anything he could get his hands on.

He laughs to himself one night, thinking, "They all thought I had a problem with the pills. Look at me now. A proper addict."

He floats around, never staying in the same spot too long, just trying to survive from one high to the next. When the drugs aren't doing enough, he takes to other forms of self-harm. What's it matter if he can't use his hand properly anymore after breaking it so many times? Nothing matters anymore. His leg hurts, his hand hurts, his head hurts, his heart fucking hurts.

He lives on the edge, breaking the law every single day but never exposing himself enough to risk getting arrested again. The closest he gets to anyone from his old life is when he stands in the back of Wilson's funeral. Wilson's mom is crying, and House feels like he should say something, but he can't bring himself to step up and speak to her. He overdoses that night, multiple hard drugs running through his veins.

He hallucinates Wilson. His wavy brown hair and big brown eyes, throwing out some witty remark. House overdoses again, this time on purpose after that, just to see Wilson. He's living on borrowed time.

Every time he sees Wilson, he wants to grab his shoulders and cry.

"I was supposed to go with you."

"I promise I'm coming."

House doesn't believe in an afterlife, but when he's sprawled out on the dirty floor of some abandoned building high out of his mind, he likes to pretend that he'll see Wilson again. House died when Wilson did, and all the important parts of him left with him.

Weeks drag out into months, and months drag out into years. House has no idea when it is. Time means nothing once you're dead. Eventually, he figures it must have been enough days, enough months, enough years, for him to find her.

Thirteen looks almost as bad as House does once he comes face to face with her for the first time in years. She stands huddled at the door, nothing but skin and bones and an oversized sweatshirt. Her face is shrunken in, and her hands are shaking, and she stares at the man outside her door with awe.

House doesn't remember when the last time he shaved was. The years of hard drug use have taken their toll, and he would wager that he weighs less than Thirteen does. He looks like a dead man, and at first, Thirteen thinks she's seeing a ghost.

"Looks like I'm right on time." Even his voice sounds different, hoarse and gravely and broken. It shocks Thirteen out of her stupor, though, and she knows immediately what he's referring to. "We thought you were dead."

"I am."

"God House, what have you been doing?"

"Waiting for you. I made you a promise, didn't I?"

A look of understanding crosses her face. "I guess you are right on time." She's ready. She's been ready for a long time. The disease has progressed to the point that it's taken over her life. She's got nothing left. She's said goodbye to everybody already, planning to take matters into her own hands.

She lets House in, and then she starts to laugh. She can't stop laughing. Tears roll down her face, and her cheeks turn red, and her face hurts. House looks at her fondly. He's always felt paternal towards her.

Once she composes herself, she answers the question she knows he wants to ask.

"It's just - I don't know how you knew, but you did. I already picked today."

House smirks, it looks more like a grimace, but the intent it there. "I guess I'm just that good."

Thirteen has more then enough drugs, and when House brings them all out, she looks at him knowingly. She ends up laying on the couch, both of them quiet as he injects the drugs into her bloodstream. House lays on the floor after that, using the rest on himself.

They wait in silence until Thirteen speaks suddenly. "Do you think there's any chance of a heaven? Honestly. None of that bullshit edgy stuff you used to always say."

House doesn't answer right away, and when he does, his speech is slurred, the drugs finally settling in. "I hope so. I hope he's there."

His body feels heavy, and he struggles to move. It takes a few tries, but eventually, he manages to reach up and catch Thirteens' hand in his own, lacing their fingers together.

His time is up.

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itsoutrageouss · 2 years

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Can I request a Steve imagine? My moms an alcoholic and I was wondering if you could write something where the readers mom is on a drunk rampage and Steve saves the reader and takes her to his house and comforts her? Thank you.

a/n: Oh my dear anon- this hit wayyy to close to home; I know exactly what you’re going through my love <3 this is a scenario i have used in my head for comfort so often. Sorry if this is a lil self-indulgent, but I’m writing partly from experience

tw: alcoholic parent, mental abuse, anxiety attack, mentions of depression, trauma stuff

words: 1,3k

Safe with me - S. H.

—☕️

You could tell she wasn’t herself just by the way she walked to the front door. There was an oblivious haze in her eyes and a small smile on her lips that most would find friendly- but you knew what it meant. And you knew that she would lie to you, too.

‘Mom?’ You asked wearily while taking off your shoes. You had just finished a shift at Scoops with Steve and Robin, and you regretfully peered over your shoulder to watch Steve’s car fade into the distance, kicking up the gravel and dust.

You could tell she was trying to keep a facade- to act sober. It was clear in the way she tried to keep herself upright, to seem like the paternal figure she should be- but it all felt wrong to you. You wallowed in denial, though. Maybe you were just tired or anxious.

‘Yes sweetheart?” Her voice was muddled and her speech slurred, and it made your heart drop to somewhere beneath your ankles.

‘Just to make sure,’ you began carefully, sending her a small smile as to not alarm her. ‘-you haven’t had anything to drink today, right?’ You couldn’t recognise your own voice; the lump in your throat got tighter by the minute, daring to choke you out completely.

‘No, no, no’ she said, too quickly. She didn’t meet your eyes, and when you stepped into the living room you smelled it. It made you sickly bitter inside, knowing she still tried to hide it after all this time.

‘You’re lying,’ it came out between your teeth, clenched tightly. A thick, drowning wave of disappointment washed over you, all you needed was her admittance.

‘Well- maybe a glass or two. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry sweetheart-‘ she started rambling- the standard procedure. You looked at her with a heart-breaking, desperately pleasing look. It was never a glass or two. She started stuttering out how awful of a mother she is, how hard it was to have a child, how she should have never gotten one.

But you had stopped listening a long time ago. The roar of the wave flushed your skin red, and you ran to your room, locking the door while the words, not again, kept appearing in your head like a mantra.

Your entire nervous system was set aflame, heart pounding so hard into your ribs that it hurt, hands shaking so violently you could barely hold the phone without it dropping it. The tears clouded your vision of the numbers in front of you and sobs wrecked through your body as you dialed a number by default. Steve’s.

Calling him wasn’t planned, wasn’t a usual thing in a situation like this but you felt an overwhelming urge to be protected, to feel safe and far away from whatever monster had swallowed your mother.

The phone clattered against your ear as you held it to close, hearing your mom trying to open the door. You ignored her pleas to the best of your abilities until Steve’s voice was heard on the other line.

“Hello?”

The sound, so familiar and pure and everything good made you cry harder, made your first words a mix of hey, it’s me, and fast paced- panicked breathing and cries.

“Woah woah woah, what’s going on? Are you okay?” He sounded so genuinely concerned, and you willed yourself to try stringing a coherent sentence together.

“Can you come pick me up? Only if it’s not too much trouble, I know you just left and all. If you can’t, it’s totally fine!” You hurried to say, trying to sound as assuring as possible- you would hate to be a burden to him like you were to your mother.

“Of course. Of course I can. What’s going on?” You immediately felt a little pang of relief at his words; you were saved from this hellish nightmare.

“It’s my mom. Y’know the drinking stuff- I just need to get away right now.” You hoped he would get the gist. You had mentioned your mothers alcoholism and depression to Steve but not the full extend of it.

“Shit, I’m sorry y/n. I’m so sorry. I’m gonna come pick you up right now, I’ll be there in like- 8 minutes okay? Can you wait outside for me, maybe? Would that be better?” His voice was filled with care, with concern, and he made you feel like the most important thing in his life in that moment- like his first priority.

You nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, yeah okay I can do that. I’ll go wait. Thanks Steve, really.”

—🕊

“Im staying somewhere else” you told your mother in an h steady voice while hurriedly packing a bag with your basic necessities. You weren’t sure if Steve would let you sleep over but you could always go to Robin’s- even the Byers if needed.

Your mother insisted that you told her who’s house you were going to, and after muttering Steve’s name you were out the door. The fresh air, away from the stench of alcohol and misery was achingly freeing. You walked a little up the road, and sat on the curb until the familiar car came into view. He was driving faster than you’d ever seen and he must’ve only caught you last minute cause the tires screeched to a halt a couple feet ahead of you.

‘Hey,’ he jumped out the drivers seat and rushed to where you now stood. You looked terribly small and fragile, knuckles white from the grasp you had on your bag, eyes red with tears still freely running and your legs shaking like you were freezing.

‘Oh baby,’ he whispered, immediately embracing you tightly. His warm arms enveloped you and his mouth planted on the crown of you head. He felt shudders and sobs wrecking through your body at his embrace. You completely surrendered to it. To him.

You let him hold you, let him take your bag, let him open the door for you. You let him take you away from all the pain and neglect and sorrow.

His hand splayed gently on your thigh on the drive to his house- carefully like you’d maybe break.

“It was really bad Steve,” you whispered. He looked over to you- to your glassy eyes that conveyed everything you couldn’t say. He felt his heart absolutely shatter.

“I had no idea it was this bad, y/n. You don’t deserve this.” His hand gestures in the air, “at all.”

You felt a little embarrassed at him seeing you in this state, knowing what really went on. But he wasn’t condescending or pitying. He cared- hell he loved you. And he wanted to take away all the pain from your precious heart.

“You’re staying over, right?” He asked as if obvious. Relief once again cursed through you, and you put your hand atop of his as he pulled into the driveway. “If that’s okay?” You questioned.

“Always, y/n. Stay as long as you want, whenever you want I swear. Its better when you’re here, anyways,” he said- the last words uttered casually as if it didn’t mean the world to you.

He brought you inside, and his home smelled clean and looked bright- his mom was nice to you and the dinner was great. It was everything you wished you could have, including Steve.

—🕊

Steve had spent the remainder of the day with you, just sitting and talking- watching a few movies and buying a few snacks. You elaborated more on you and your mothers relationship and Steve told you about him and his dad. You felt completely comfortable and never judged in Steve’s presence.

“You can always call me, no matter what time, okay?”

“Okay.” You smiled softly, gratitude radiating from you to him as your arms wrapped around his waist. He immediately reciprocated, letting you rest against his chest as you turned back to the movie playing.

You had never felt more safe in someone’s arms as you did that night, falling asleep on the couch with a blanket tossed over the two of you <3

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thecameronchronicles · 1 year

Text

Single

TW: Smut. Language. Brief 'getting back out there' dating angst.

SUMMARY: JJ meets you on the first night out after being forced to 'get back out there' by his friends.

WORD COUNT: 1800

REQUESTED

Single dad!JJ going out for the first time to a bar w John B (he hasn’t dated anyone since he had his baby) and meets reader and is instantly turned on so they go to the bars bathroom

Single

"Just enjoy tonight okay, Kie is watching the littlest pogue and this is about getting you back on that proverbial saddle my friend..." John B explained while setting a cruel but purposeful weight over JJ's shoulders.

"I just want to drink." But as his eyes scanned the bar for an empty seat to where he could accelerate the time with drink after drink, his eyes came to you.

"Last time I checked that girl isn't a drink." JJ teased before pushing him towards you, the stuttering step drawing your attention from the distracted stir you made with your fingers.

"Sorry."

"Not even giving yourself the chance to try before apologizing? Poor form..." You shot as he was immediately drawn into the fact you weren't just basking for any guy's attention. It was the mistake he'd made with the mother of his son. She preferred momentary attention from the thing that could get her into the most trouble. Currently that was the elder Cameron on the other side of the island. Which was why his son was under the care of the only maternal figure he'd ever known.

"Maybe you should try a bit of confidence..." You learned to the bar, turning back to him as his eyes moved to you in momentary fear as to why you'd analyzed him. Offering an easing smirk, you gave a grin before ordering a drink he'd never heard of.

"I thought men in the south were supposed to be gentlemen..." He cleared his throat and nodded.

"Then why are you making me drink alone?" He shuffled nervously before ultimately taking the seat beside you. He sat just close enough for you to dictate the scent of saltwater and a decent shower.

"So a beautiful girl buys you a drink and you can't even give your name? I'd say that's strike two..." You pause to allow him the chance to offer his name. Once he has, you extended your hand before giving your own. His lip spread in approval to his dimples as he believed the name for you perfectly. His eyes descending you when you feigned interest in the bartender for a refill, unaware you'd witnessed him checking you out.

"You're not from around here?" He finally asked as this would begin an effortless stream of conversation that consisted of playful banter and teasing jokes. Eventually, it came time to close out the tab as the seats were anything but comfortable and you searched for a change. In doing so, a picture fell out of his wallet and to the floor.

"You have a son..." The words came out rather deadpanned as he could tell if this had been a deal breaker or not. It worried him as you had been the only reason he'd smiled since the birth of his son and now you were as fleeting as that moment.

"He looks just like you. Same smile. You should do that more." You laid it on thick, fitting the pieces together as to why it was he hadn't been the first to instigate the interest you were made aware of when he first entered the bar a few hours ago.

"I used to know how to do this shit, you know..." He explained after mentioning gratitude for your remark.

"But now I can't even look a beautiful girl in the eyes..." You cocked your mouth to the side.

"Then maybe you should close them." His heart skipped a beat as your teased forwardness was exactly what he needed. That reminder of life still needing to be lived despite his paternal role. But where he expected your lips, you would pull him to the small floor designated for dancing.

"I don't really dance."

"You can move your hips though...your son proves that..." You flirted through batted lashes before turning away so you could sway your ass against his seam. A seam suddenly too tight for such a public display.

"I'm jealous..." You confessed as the music broke just enough to be heard as you bent back towards his ear.

"Of what?"

"She got to know how you felt...And I only have...an idea..." You were suddenly turned to face him. That need for his dominance to challenge your own, having been presented.

"You want it?"

You moved to the tips of your toes, hands pressed firmly against his chest, before you whispered into his ear.

"I need it. If only you were daring enough to feel my panties right now...you'd know just how much..." He slipped his hands up under your ass and at a tease.

"If I was wearing any, that is..." You danced for only a second more before making your way off of the dance floor and towards the bathroom. You weren't granted even a step before feeling a grip take you against the wall. That single remark enough to alter him from reserved to desperate.

"This might make you question your beliefs on guys from the south being gentlemen...because I'm not going to be gentle...but you won't have to question I'm all man." You repressed a chuckle to his attempt to make this sexual, but the grip at your hips only made you nod in agreement.

"Then prove it, JJ..." You pushed him against the wall to only be turned with your hands collected on either side of you.

"You don't mind everyone seeing you come?" Your brows raised in surprise as your lips widened in humor.

"I would have let you in the middle of the dance floor because your fingers felt so good...But you're getting ahead of yourself...you haven't even kissed me and you think you can make me come?"

"The first time I kiss you will be in the lips..." You nodded.

"That's where I expected..." But the cock of his jaw suddenly excited you.

"Not these lips..." He brushed your smirk away to a more sultry contentment as he moved to his knees.

"Oh...oh!" You gasped as he grinned against your thighs in the first stripe made of your sex.

"It's a miracle nobody slipped on the dance floor...you're already dripping for me..." He was contrasted to the man too timid to even sit at the bar. He was fervent and educated with a wicked tongue bringing both heaven and hell through each stripe.

Once he found a steady rhythm along with your hips, he pulled your leg over his shoulder. Your fingers rushed in circuits through his messy hair until he brought your hand to view. Sucking your pointer finger and then your middle, he gracefully exchanged them for his tongue as you'd only noticed when he returned to stand.

"Touching yourself in the middle of the club...dirty girl...."

"Your dirty girl for tonight..." He growled in response.

"If you’re mine, why are you talking? You should just be moaning. That's what my girl does for me. She moans. She comes. Just not yet " He guided your hand faster.

"Please. You feel better."

"If you think my fingers want to make you come, just wait for my cock..." He brought your hand against the bulge as you bit your bottom lip.

"You willing to show me how badly you want this? Enough to suck me off right here?" Your fingers then fisted the fabric of his chosen jean jacket.

"I want you to fuck me right here, JJ...please...I'm..."

"Sweet." He took his thumb to his bottom lip to remind you both of the way you'd opened your legs so easily to him.

"Turn around. Hold up your skirt. I've got to use my hands for better things." You obeyed, the sound of his buckle dismantling having acted as a reward.

"Oh, you need this as badly as I do...don't you? Been a while for you, too?" You nodded, nails eating at the flat wall before you.

"Safety first." He teased while extending a condom over his large anatomy, your eyes needy to know what you were about to feel firsthand. But you would only be able to become knowledgeable of him once he decided to end your mutual torment.

"I'll take good care of you...sweetheart..." At the title, he thrust inside of you. A single force bottoming out and pinning you against the wall. He remained still for only a moment before pistoning in and out of you. Each thrust seemed to act as a means of motivation to accelerate even faster. This continued as his hands rode the curve of your hips and to your breasts.

"You feel so perfect."

"And all yours." He smirked, chest risking to indicate the scoff he exhaled.

"You're just saying that because you want to come for me..." He began to twist and pull at your nipples. "But you're smart enough to know I'm in control here. You come when I'm ready for you to." You moaned, hoping it would be enough to initiate him further. But it would only send him into a smirk.

"My poor desperate girl..."

"Please JJ..."

"You even beg pretty...But so you come pretty too?" Before you could answer, his middle finger of his dominant hand came to your clit in a pinch.

"Let's find out."

Fondling your nipple and your clit at sporadic bursts of the same aggressive force, you craned behind to kiss him. Success was met through every other thrust as your lips would simply brush across his otherwise, all while he continued.

Sweat and pleading became the only thing legible against the time spent together as you could feel your body collect that familiar pleasure. That lower warmth and twist of an orgasm he had on the very cusp of his cock and fingertips.

"You want this princess?"

"Yes..."

"Can't hear you over the music-"

"YES JJ! PLEASE!"

"Guess you do come pretty..." He smiled into your lips as he kissed you from a rather uncomfortable angle as you shuddered beneath him. Safety found between his arms keeping you steady into him as your legs threatened to give way beneath you. But just as you descended from that high, he has built to his own.

"I'm close...just take a little bit more for me...it's been so fucking long as you feel-"

"I want you to feel good, JJ...come for me...please..." You snaked a tongue to his jaw as he guided into you even faster.

"Fuck!" He called while expelling himself into the prophylactic. The tremors if his body and interruption of his rare breath having validated his release you couldn't feel behind the cover.

"Shit...I needed that..."

"Happy to oblige."

"Oh, we're not done." Your brows rose.

"We're not?"

"I'm taking you to dinner. And then..." He set a soft kiss to your lips. "I'm having you for dessert…again. I need more of my sweet and sassy." He winked, guiding you from the hall once you finished fixing your clothes.

"Yours?"

"For tonight, you bet your sweet ass..."

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @drews1love @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

MASTERLIST

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#jjmaybank #jjsmut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #outerbanks #obx #outer banks smut #obxsmut #obx fanfiction #outer banks #rudy pankow

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tomurderornottomurder · 2 years

Text

teen dad; steve harrington

pair. steve harrington x ftm!reader

summ. steve gets reader pregnant and when reader needs him, steve's there for reader

gen. angst n fluff

tw. pregnancy, teen pregnancy, ftm pregnancy, mentions of violence, unsupportive family, birth scene (vague), coming out, probably messed up timeline (pretty vague tho)

wc. 1.5k

note. i haven't been able to write just about anything but this came to me last night and it felt good to write out. also like personally pregnancy n birth freak me out so idk where this came from??, expect a part 2, C/n = child name :)

To say things between you and Steve Harrington are complicated is an understatement. Freshman year you two were inseparable, hot on the hips, literally and figuratively. Always kissing in the halls, his arms wrapped around your waist, and your face buried in his neck. You were the 'it' couple of Hawkins High for a while. Then things went downhill. You two had your biggest falling out to date and didn't speak to each other for weeks; scathing stares across the lunchroom sent the message. And then, you discovered by some miracle you were pregnant! Only one man could be responsible and you knew it wasn't going to go well.

Steve was a lot quieter than you expected. You guess you couldn't really blame him, this was a big deal after all. You just expected more of an argument. He had asked if you were going to keep it though, and well, you didn't really know. You felt like he had taken the news a little too well or rather maybe he hadn't fully understood the severity of the situation.

Turns out, you did want the kid. Steve wasn't sure about it at first and you two had gotten into another fight over it. Steve had gotten over the fight at least -the child, his child was still something for him to process- and he came over with some flowers and other gifts, his form of an apology.

You two had tried to rekindle your relationship but it just wasn't there between your differing ideals at the time, your changing view on yourself, and Steve's blossoming feelings for Nancy. You couldn't really blame him, she seemed nice and she was gorgeous, and you, yourself, were starting to fancy someone else.

You two were pretty distant after that, busy with your own lives among other things. The only thing that did seem to connect you anymore was your child. And Steve's fighting with otherworldly creatures and protecting other children seemed to really set his paternal instincts on fire.

Though you two had stayed distant and as awkward as Steve felt, he broke through it to at least help you buy stuff for the baby. His parents were pissed at the news, he explained to you as you both strolled down the baby aisle of the nearest department store (that was not in Hawkins), but they would help and would force him to as well. You chuckled at that and Steve found the noise quite fond to his ears.

Once (or maybe a few times, actually), he had found you trying to build baby furniture on your own. He would lean against the door frame watching you struggle only for some fleeting moments where you hadn't noticed him yet but then he'd get that ever-eating guilty feeling and he'd announce himself with a chuckle and take whatever you were working on out of your hands. He found himself reminded of why you had been together in the first place when you would endlessly protest about helping him with at least some of it, you had said. These times were few and far in-between.

To Steve's credit though, he was there at the hospital with you the whole time. It was a bit of a pain for him (which you would later laugh at), between dodging his friends' questions of where he was and your family who weren't particularly thrilled about his existence in general, it was a bit of hit or miss experience for him. To his eternal gratefulness, you were actually nice to him even while literally birthing your child, though you had been squeezing his hand so hard that even the nurses thought you might've broken it. (You did not). And it seemed Steve's presence, for you at least, seemed to make the experience better; from just having his hand to hold, to his kind of hilarious reaction to the actual birthing of the baby, he -when you weren't screaming or crying in pain- brought you some calm. Until he was handed the baby and nearly dropped it tripping over a cord. He left the baby-holding to you after that.

Steve had even spent the night much to your family's dismay but your gratitude. He wasn't exactly the best partner nor friend but you hoped, you really did as much as you would never admit it to anyone, that he would at least try to be a decent father. You, of course, understood he was a meathead and a teenager, and that he hadn't been the greatest guy freshman year but it seemed like he was changing. You just hoped it was for the better.

After some months, which had not been full of Steve liked you hoped only for the sake of your child, you had made a discovery about yourself. You had to admit how much sense it made. Alas, your family did not feel the same at all. They went even as far as calling both you and your child "Satan spawn" which later you would be able to laugh about. But for now, you stand outside your house in the middle of winter, your baby bundled up and strapped to your chest, watching as all of your stuff gets thrown out. You stand there for a good few minutes frozen in amazement before, without realizing, a torrent of tears stream down your face. You only had one place to go.

You hate this so so so much. God, your family could handle a pregnant teen but not a trans one? You scoff at the thought before swallowing what pride you had -minuscule now- and knocking on Steve's door. For some reason, you feel guilty like you shouldn't have said anything for your baby's sake and now you're about to lay it on your ex-boyfriend and the father of your kid and who knows how he'll react? Will he take your kid and shun you? Want to kill you both? Take pity on you but ignore your identity? Your impatient foot-tapping stills when the door opens.

If ever you were thankful for Steve's absent parents, it's now. You involuntarily sigh at his sight while he freaks out at yours, mainly cause you and his kid are out in the cold. Before words can be exchanged, he pulls you in by the shoulder. You sigh again at the warmth of the Harrington house.

Steve's hands are now on his hips and you can tell his mind is going a million miles an hour; it's one look of his you'll never forget. He's drawn back into the moment, his mouth moving before he can even speak. "I- What are you doing here? And when did you get a haircut?" He reaches up to touch your hair, "It's so short," He mumbles. It doesn't seem like he hates it, more just like he's surprised.

"Those are two very different questions," You point out and he seems dissatisfied. You look down at your feet before actually explaining yourself. You start out with the whole getting kicked out thing and soon enough he does it; he asks the question.

"Why?" He's bewildered. Your family definitely had been better than his about the pregnancy, so it couldn't be that, right? But what was it?

You sigh and drop your head. "You have to promise to me, no matter what, that after I tell you, you will still take care of C/n, alright?" You look up at him, holding out your pinky.

"A pinky swear, really?" His brows raise, looking at you.

"Just- Steve, please,"

"Alright, alright," He puts his hands up before hooking his pinky with yours, "I promise."

You pretty much guide him into his own kitchen, allowing yourself to sit, and having him sit across from you. You tell him that you're trans and he looks confused, even asks you what that is. You can't help your laugh, "Steve, you're making this-"

"Difficult?" He looks at you expectantly.

"No," You shake your head. "You're making it easy," You assure him. You go on to explain what exactly you being trans entails and he nods along almost too much but you blame that on your nerves. Eventually, you manage to ask, "So...?"

"So, what?" He looks straight back at you.

"Steve, you're not... mad? Or going to take C/n? Call the police? Beat me up?"

His face contorts in confusion, "No.. to all of those." His eyes meet yours and soften.

Silently, you stare at one another. Steve breaks eye contact first, getting out of his chair and walking to your side. This is it, you think, he's going to strangle me or steal C/n away. Some part of you feels like you deserve it and you freeze in place. A strange warmth fills you when Steve awkwardly maneuvers around your baby to wrap his strong arms around you in a gentle but firm embrace. You're so taken aback you don't even hug back until he whispers, "It's okay." He even runs his fingertips over the ends of your much shorter hair and says with a smile that you can just feel, "I like it. It looks really good." And with that ever intact charm of his, he adds, "You look so hot."

You snort and so does he.

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hairybirthdayclown · 1 year

Text

i. astrology notes

*(not a pro. just for fun)

• i've noticed a lot of the community is confused about what the 2H represents & i heard from a professional astrologer that the 2H (tropical) represents how/what we spend our money on. that's just one of the many things it represents but i'm not gonna get into the rest. i can confirm that the things i spend my money on are things are use on a daily basis & majority are my necessities because my 2H ruler is in my 6H (house that represents everyday occurences)

*TW: death

• for those who have 6H Pluto, you probably have had instances where your pets have died adruptly or other peoples pets in your possession. all in all you cannot keep a pet for too long because it's not going to live for a while in your care. pet could've ran away & disappeared as well (i have a friend with this placement & she said she has had 4 pets in her whole entire life & the longest one of them lived in her possession was 2 months - shortest was 2 weeks) this doesn't necessarily mean you're shit at taking care of pets though, the death could've been caused by something out of your control. really sorry for anyone who has lost a pet so dear to them :/

• 3°/15°/27° of Moon could have a maternal figure that is extremely talkative, has gemini placements or 3H stellium. they might even get a lot of phone calls or could own more than one phone. very active on their socials too.

• 2°/14°/26° of Saturn could have a paternal figure that is materialistic, has taurus placements or 2H stellium. constantly buying stuff that exceed their budget or they probably don't even have one. could make more money than any other family member or family member who spends the most.

• libra 4H probably didn't grow up in a happy family. more like a family that didn't want to deal with the pain & difficulties within it & swept them under the rug. some members might not be aware of it. very much Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez - could put out a front amongst outsiders to seem like everything is fine when it's not. absolute turmoil could be happening right in front of them & they would still pretend to be happy. this could be hard for family members with strong Pluto aspects/placements within this family as they will always feel the urge to unravel the truth.

thanks for reading :)

30/04/23

#libra astrology #pluto in 6th house #astrology notes #gemini #degree theory #taurus #scorpio #Spotify

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next-autopsy · 6 months

Text

A/N: Well, hi there! I hope you’re enjoying this story as much as I am! This chapter is semi Francesca focused, hope y’all like her! Quite a bit of backstory in this one, we uncover a family mystery and I’m so sorry for it.

Lmk what you think x

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: Smoking, swearing, general awkwardness, mentions of death/loss,

Tags: @malarkgirlypop , @panzershrike-pretz (let me know if you want to be added!)

Made of Glass

Chapter thirteen: Baby Birdie

Smoking had always been something Francesca took solace in, the earthy smell reminded her of the men in her family. Her father had smoked since before she was born, she always pictured him with a thin cylinder of fine tobacco in his hand.

When her two older brothers had hit their early teens, they both took up the habit. At first, they had hidden it from the paternal figure but quickly came to realise he didn't care so they stopped sneaking out to puff cigarettes in the dark alleys of their neighbourhood.

Francesca often thought of her brothers and how they were fairing. Both had enlisted in the US marine corps the second Europe had declared war within itself in 1939. Her oldest brother, Giovanni, was 23 and the younger, Niccolo, was 22, that was nearly three years ago, and she hadn't seen them since. She would receive one, maybe two letters from each of them yearly and that's how she knew they were both still alive.

She turned her thoughts else where, inhaling and exhaling gray clouds. Rossi was perched on the steps of the barracks she lived in, enjoying the quiet dark.

To her dismay, the quiet dark was disturbed by the rhythmic thump of Army issued boots and the dirt path that lead in her direction.

Francesca saw the shadowy outline of two figures, two figures that were yet to notice her.

As they came closer, she recognised Birdie but not the man she was with. The pair seemed uncomfortable, the girl fidgeted with her hands and the guy was looking every which way except towards the woman.

Francesca cringed for them. Their weird energy reached out and touched her and she wanted to run off or hide her face in her hands.

She didn’t. She sat and watched.

It was like witnessing a car wreck, Rossi could not pull her attention away, morbidly curious to see what happens next.

Nobody said anything, no words exchanged but the couple had stopped walking and both looked like they wanted to hang themselves.

Rossi kept silent, hoping if she said nothing they wouldn't notice her and she could ignore this moment of her life.

“Uh...” And, “Well...” Were spoken at the same time by each of the on edge….friends? Were they friends? Francesca couldn't tell.

“Thanks... for ya know....” It was Birdie who bucked up and broke the bizarre tension that had formed in the strained hush between them.

“Yeah...” The man turned to walk away, figuring he could leave the strange encounter and act like this interaction did not occur.

“Liebgott?” The southern woman called out to him, pausing his steps, he looked over his shoulder at her.

“Yeah?” There was a beat of nothing. Birdie fidgeted once again. To Francesca it looked like she was about to tell him something important, begin a speech or break some bad news to the poor fellow attempting to run away. But Birdie didn’t, she only uttered one word and it sounded forced.

“Night.” It's not what she wanted to say but in all honesty she didn't know what she wanted to say. It was like she spoke his name but didn't remember why.

“Night, Coldwell.” Then he was gone, Birdie couldn't help but feel something. Disappointment? Unfulfillment? She was conflicted and she didn't really know why.

“That was weird.”

“Jesus Christ!” Bernadette's hand flew to her chest and she whipped her head around faster than the speed of light. Though she calmed when she noticed Francesca sitting in the dark, huffing on the tail end of a cigarette.

“Frankie! Announce yourself dammit! You scared me half to death....” Birdie let out a sigh, “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough.” She answered, “Wanna smoke?”

“God yes.” The younger girl accepted her offer and sat down next to her roommate, taking the tobacco stick between her fingers. Francesca took out a second one and placed it between her lips, then lit both.

They sat side by side, huffing and puffing until there was nothing left to consume.

“Frankie, huh? I earned myself a Birdie nickname.” The Italian woman commented lightheartedly.

“Sure did.” A smile grew on her face, the nickname had slipped out accidentally but she was glad for it. This moment felt like a good one, one she'd look back on as the beginning of their blossoming friendship.

“At least it's not a disease.” She had a smirk on her lips, word of Birdie’s STD riddled friend had gotten around.

“Was that… a joke? Did you just make a joke, Frankie?” A giggle escaped her lips.

“Yeah, cherish it. I won't be making another.” The black haired woman spoke in a stoic tone but a smile crept onto her face and she bumped shoulders with Birdie, who laughed at the action. Francesca felt herself smiling wider at Birdies enjoyment, the noise was filled with a musical merriment and it was contagious.

The women sat outside on the wooden steps and shared another cigarette, they passed this one between them. Bernadette began telling Frankie the childhood story of how she acquired her nickname: Birdie. As a toddler learning to speak, the full ‘Bernadette’ was a incoherent babble so one of her older sisters had shortened it for her to Bernie. But of course the two year old's pronunciation was still being perfected and it changed to Birdie and stuck.

The image of a baby Bernadette, wobbling around on uncertain feet calling herself Birdie sparked a chuckle from the Italian girl. It prompted her to share her own tale from her youth and the two went back and forth, while one puffed on the smoke the other would share a memory.

This is how Bernadette learnt of Frankie’s family. Her father worked as a mechanic as did she and her two older brothers before they all enlisted. She was surprised to hear they were both currently deployed in the Pacific theatre of war.

Birdie shared the information of her own brother, the eldest: Victor, affectionately called Junior as Victor was also their fathers name. He signed up for the US Navy in 1939 and after training was stationed in Hawaii. He was aboard the SS Arizona when it was targeted by the Japanese. He died on December 7th, 1941 in Pearl Harbour.

He was the reason Birdie and James had signed up. Originally, the southerner was going to put her name down as a nurse but she’d heard of the special program for women and how it would send her to the front lines and she was in, no questions.

Francesca sympathised, she too had lost a family member. The New York Italian informed her new friend of her seldom talked about parent. Her mother had an incurable sickness and passed away when Frankie was young. Young enough that she barely remembered the woman, she could vaguely picture a face, a warm smile, an encompassing hug, a gentle voice or sweet smell but not much else.

Most of what she knew of her mother was learnt from pictures or stories her brothers told her. She had asked her father about the woman once and he did not react well. He yelled and hissed at her and stomped off to his room to drink away the memories of his late wife. Frankie never asked him about her mother again.

Bernadette had hugged her after hearing the tragedy. She was incredibly close with her family, especially her mother and couldn’t imagine not having her in her life. Francesca didn’t mind much, she didn’t know anything different, but she accepted the hug anyway, Birdie was warm and the comfort she provided, was needed.

The pack of smokes had emptied over the course of time the two spent bonding, which was their signal to head inside and sleep.

Which is exactly what they did, sharing a look from across the room as a silent ‘goodnight’.

——————————

As the weeks phased into months Toccoa began to feel more like home. Bernadette had found her footing and slipped into a schedule she looked forward to. Lectures were a welcome break from vigorous PT and the friends she had made were becoming closer and closer everyday.

Liebgott had gone back to dropping bad natured comments aimed at her the morning after whatever that night was. Although his tone had changed and his words seemed more like attempted jokes. She noticed his lips curling ever so slightly at the edges when he muttered the banter and his genuine distain for her felt fake and put on as if he wanted everyone (including himself) to believe he didn’t like her. She replied with her typical witty comebacks but hers too felt forced like a show for anyone listening. The shift unsettled her to her core but she didn’t really know why, she should be happy Liebgott was finally coming round and didn’t wish her dead… so why wasn’t she?

On the third day after the entire Harriet debacle, all four men were apprehended.

Nixon had told Birdie that someone outside of the attackers had confirmed the initial confession, which gave them absolute proof. The three men were dishonourably discharged and sent home in disgrace, while the fourth man was transferred out of the 506 and left Camp Toccoa effective immediately.

Birdie was pleased to hear the news but couldn’t for the life of her figure out who had told Sink, maybe the men had blabbed to their friends and one of them felt bad? Who knows, it was anyone's guess.

Birdie didn’t dwell on it too much, instead she had wrote to Harriet and explained the whole story. The ex-How company woman was still recovering weeks later with a broken pelvis and stitches in the back of her head but she had been allowed to move to her home state. She thanked Birdie for her part in finding and punishing her violators and had truly meant it, learning of the men being held accountable had eased her mind. It eased Bernadette’s guilt some but she figured the feeling she couldn’t get rid of would stay with her for the rest of her life, always wondering what might have been.

The two promised to keep in contact and Harriet even invited Birdie to come visit her in San Diego once the war was over. Of course, Bernadette had accepted and found herself picturing California, it became her fantasy, one she would carry with her throughout the years ahead of her.

The entire regiment was being moved to Fort Benning, marching 137 miles to break some record the Japanese troops held. It took three and a bit days of marching plus a train ride but they reached their destination.

Fort Benning was set up similarly to Camp Toccoa yet they were so different, it gave Birdie an eerie feeling of familiarity.

A/N: That was a tad depressing, sorry folks! But Birdie and Frankie bonded over dead loved ones so yay!

Also, finally they’re in Fort Benning, goodbye Toccoa!

~ next-autopsy ~

Chapter fourteen

#band of brothers #easy company #hbo war #joe liebgott #band of brothers fanfic #fem oc #oc #lewis nixon #next autopsy #made of glass #made of glass chapter thirteen #first fanfic

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