#and my dads is better like in speaking terms but neither of them really know english linguistics and stuff

[conanssummerchild]

fuuuuuuck im going to get a bad grade on my english gcse jesus christ they should cancel the stupid transactional part i hate it so much like "write an article about-" KILL YOURSEKF but like this is just making me think like if i cant handle ONE exam how the fuck am i suposed to pass the rest of my gcses next year, ive studied nowhere near enough for english and im exhausted how the fuck am i going to study for more than 8 other exams and pass

[clover-system]

The longest list of anti-endo sources I've ever seen

While trying to find something else using Tumblr's infamous search engine, I came across this absolute gem:

NINE SOURCES!!! That's a record!! This is incredible!

@radpocalypse, listen. I am about to tear these to shreds, but before I do, I want you to know that you have my respect for not only compiling the longest list of sources I have ever seen an anti-endo provide, and not only doing so seemingly not directly prompted, but typing out every single link by hand, on mobile, without making a single mistake. Incredible work.

And also, to be completely honest, if I had nine sources supporting a belief, I almost certainly wouldn't look into them this closely. But, hey, that's what strangers on the internet with opposing views are for.

One more thing before the debunk: Endogenic systems do not claim to have DID etc. without trauma. They just don't. Whether it could be possible is often debated as an edge case, usually just to win an argument against someone of the opposing side, but really, it's irrelevant for 99% of the community. A good chunk are questioning OSDD based on later trauma, but as far as I am aware, no one on this website is claiming a completely endogenic plural disorder.

However, I don't want to dismiss entire pages based on this alone without further commentary, and it's a fun intellectual exercise regardless. So, whenever I use green text, I'm just playing Devil's Advocate under the premise of "If I was claiming to have DID without trauma (which neither I nor anyone else afaik is), would this source actually debunk that claim?" My syster will also occasionally pop in with purple, since she was cocon while I was writing this.

My dad just walked into my room and literally said "hey how it's going". You know, like. Like that one post. Amazing.

Anyway, civility established. Now come along with me on this long long journey of ten minutes of reading. Maybe put some music on in the background, if that will help you get through it. I had Near's Theme on while writing.

Here we go.

Link 1: McLean Hospital

Ok, main thing that caught my eye was

According to a 2010 Psychiatric Times article, only 5% of people with DID exhibit obvious switching between identity “states.”

Very interesting! Even with all of the "idk who's fronting" memes, 5% is really not that high. Though maybe online spaces like these help train the ability to identify it? The reference trail leads back to a book by Kluft but I don't really feel like going through dozens of pages for this. Definitely making a note of this though; I wonder if there have been any follow-up studies on this.

Not much to say here other than that. No mention of plurality outside DID.

DID is associated with long-term exposure to trauma, often chronic traumatic experiences during early childhood.

Dissociation—or disconnection from one’s sense of self or environment—can be a response to trauma.

Dissociative identity disorder—a type of dissociative disorder—most often develops during early childhood in kids who are experiencing long-term trauma. This typically involves emotional, physical, and/or sexual abuse; neglect; and highly unpredictable interactions with caregivers.

Why "associated", not "is caused by"? Why "can", not "is"? Why "most often", etc.?

Why such weak language?

Not that it couldn't be weaker.

I vaguely remember McLean getting into some hot water regarding a video they posted about DID, but didn't find anything concrete. Half-remembered anecdote aside, the author seems well-qualified.

C-tier debunk of this position. It's not nothing but it could be a lot better.

Link 2: Psych Central

It occurs in women 9 times more often than in men.

Very interesting statistic, but no citation provided.

Alters can show striking differences. For instance, one alter may speak with a different accent or have a softer way of speaking. They might have different opinions or a different gender identity, and even physical differences — like left- or right-handedness, or the need for a glasses prescription.

That's quite a stark difference here compared to the McLean article. What happened to "alters aren't that noticeable"?

But whatever, these are just interesting tidbits. None of this has anything to do with endogenic plurality. Nothing like "this is the only way to be multiple", no comment whatsoever.

DID is usually associated with adverse experiences in someone’s past and traumatic memories.

Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is a mental health condition with strong links to trauma, especially trauma in childhood.

Bruh. This again?

In fact, the American Psychiatric Association reports that 90% of people with DID have a history of childhood abuse and neglect, based on research from the United States, Canada, and Europe.

Bruh. Seriously? 90%? You know what that leaves, right?

According to your own source, 10% of DID systems are endogenic.

But let's break this down. There's a big difference between the system being endogenic, and the DID being endogenic. This statistic is specifically referring to childhood trauma.

The wording's plenty vague though. This can absolutely be read as completely endogenic DID.

One review article from 2017 about the causes of DID noted that there was relatively little research on the condition to date.

The authors said researchers hadn’t yet investigated potential genetic and epigenetic factors. With epigenetic factors, the experiences and behaviors of your parents and ancestors can influence the function of the genes they pass down to you.

The authors of the review said scientists needed to do more research to investigate whether a person with DID might carry genes that can influence if they develop the condition or not.

This is particularly promising because studies have already shown that genes can influence dissociative disorders in general.

So you're telling me DID might be able to be passed down one or two generations? Wow. Again, this still has nothing to do with endogenic plurality, but I'm really glad I decided to play with this second angle, because it's so much more fun. We're certainly not at intentional self-inflicted DID here, but we are at this point a long way from certainly needing childhood trauma in all cases.

And also the reviewer is a military psychiatrist who specializes in ADHD. So uh. Not bringing our best here.

Link 3: Mayo Clinic

Gotta love an article that's nice and short. This is just a brief summary of a bunch of dissociative disorders. Again, nothing about endogenic plurality.

Starting to run out of things to say about this. This whole post could probably be a fifth the length if I didn't feel like playing on hard mode.

Formerly known as multiple personality disorder, this disorder involves "switching" to other identities. You may feel as if you have two or more people talking or living inside your head. You may feel like you're possessed by other identities.

Each identity may have a unique name, personal history and features. These identities sometimes include differences in voice, gender, mannerisms and even such physical qualities as the need for eyeglasses.

Hey, that reminds me of someone.

There also are differences in how familiar each identity is with the others. Dissociative identity disorder usually also includes bouts of amnesia and often includes times of confused wandering.

Again, McLean looking really odd with its declaration of DID's covertness against great detail like this. However, its author is so far the best qualified. This one just says "Mayo Clinic Staff". Can't even know which of them worked on this. Some of them are psychs, but if any of them specialize in dissociative disorders, it doesn't say so.

Dissociative disorders usually arise as a reaction to shocking, distressing or painful events and help push away difficult memories.

I won't bother quoting even more wishy-washy language because this post is already at an ungodly length (about 1300 words so far) and we're barely a third done. But yeah, suffice to say, no nail-in-the-coffin 100% link to trauma.

Link 4: Rethink

We are a trusted information creator and accredited by the Patient Information Forum (PIF).

Their bold, for once. That's an alarm-ringing corporate phrase if I've ever seen one. Also, first thing on the PIF's website is "balancing the risks and benefits of AI in the production of health information". So this article might've been written by GPT. Awesome. And yeah, a lot of this whole website looks to me like a bunch of interconnected pages with stupidly long articles written by stitching together LLM generations. Does pass GPT0's test though.

This one is so long. I'll take the ten minutes to read through every word, which I don't think @radpocalypse did, just to make sure there's nothing here, but one thing that does catch my eye scrolling down to near the bottom is that they misspelled their first citation.

A quick look at this Carolyn Spring shows a lot being sold and credentials nowhere in sight. Awesome.

So already I don't need to read this. The information here is not at a high level of trustworthiness. It's maybe better than nothing, but seriously, one can and should do better. But I'll read it anyway, just for bonus points. Thanks to AccelaReader for making this bearable.

Many people will experience dissociation at some point in their lives. Lots of different things can cause you to dissociate. For example, you might dissociate when you are very stressed, or after something traumatic has happened to you.

Some of the symptoms of dissociation include the following:

You may have clear multiple identities.

It‘s important to remember that you could have the symptoms of dissociation without a dissociative disorder.

So according to this, multiple identities can be caused by intense but non-traumatic stress, and might not necessarily be a disorder. So, while I admit this is a little bit of a stretch, we're four links in and this is the first mention of plurality in general, so I'll take it. One point for endogenic plurality. (And again, none of this really matters anyway because this is the worst source so far.)

Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is sometimes called ‘Multiple Personality Disorder.

If you have DID you might seem to have 2 or more different identities, called ‘alternate identities.

Two missing closing quotes. Really not a good sign.

They suggest that DID is caused by experiencing severe trauma over a long time in childhood.

Aha! Finally, something concrete against endogenic DID! Too bad it's buried in the worst source yet. If we believed we had DID, we would absolutely not reconsider that based on a sketchy webpage with suboptimal syntax and no credentials.

Ugh, finally done with that one. What a slog.

Link 5: DID Research

Aha! The infamous psych student's blog! That's what Sophie said, anyway. Not taking her word for it though. Let's see what we can find here, independently.

Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is the result of repeated or long-term childhood trauma

Why wasn't this first? First sentence, so crystal clear. No two ways about this, transDID destroyed right out of the gate.

DID cannot form after ages 6-9 because individuals older than these ages have an integrated self identity and history.

Why wasn't this first? It's so plain, so refreshing after four pages of strategic ambiguity. Nothing left here for green. But still no mention of non-disordered plurality.

The author is impressively credentialed but doesn't seem to specialize quite near this area. She's certainly better than most, high above any random Tumblr user talking out of their ass, but the good stuff would be to get a DID specialist to explicitly spell out that endogenic systems are not possible.

Also should make note of this big fat legal disclaimer:

While the author strives to make information on this website as complete, reliable, and accurate as possible, the author makes no claims, promises, guarantees, or warranties about the accuracy, completeness, or adequacy of the contents of this site and expressly disclaims liability for errors and omissions in the contents of this site.

If we did claim to have DID, this would rattle us a little but could ultimately be brushed aside.

Link 6: SANE

As usual, literally nothing about endogenic plurality. I'll just greenmode this.

The majority of people with DID have been through severe trauma in early childhood

And now back to our regularly scheduled nondefinitive language.

Fun fact: highlighting text on this website turns it invisible. Awesome.

A person needs to meet the following criteria to be diagnosed with DID:

- Two or more distinct identities or personality states, each with its own way of thinking and relating. - Amnesia and gaps in the recall of everyday events, personal information or traumatic events. - The experiences are not part of normal cultural or religious practice, or part of childhood imaginary play. For example, a child having an imaginary friend does not mean they have DID. - The symptoms are not because of substance abuse or other medical conditions.

Ah finally, a direct quote from the good ol' DSM. Notice the lack of a trauma requirement.

Funny enough, using only these criteria in isolation, we actually would count as having DID due to our grayout memory gaps when switching. DID is also listed in the dissociative disorders section of the DSM, not the trauma disorders section, so there is no implied criterion there either. However, there still remains the universal criterion of distress, which we do not fulfill. We are quite happy with ourselves.

DID is caused by severe childhood trauma, such as physical, verbal or sexual abuse.

Well, which is it?? Is it a majority association or a direct cause? Why the contradiction? Or is the emphasis on early childhood trauma?

Eh, whatever. Point is, green is once again shut down. But there is still no mention of endogenic plurality anywhere here!!

And no indication of who wrote this article, though the citation for direct cause is a dissociative disorder specialist. Does he actually say that in the cited paper, though?

Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is multifactorial in its etiology. Whereas psychosocial etiologies of DID include developmental traumatization and sociocognitive sequelae, biological factors include trauma-generated neurobiological responses. Biologically derived traits and epigenetic mechanisms are also likely to be at play. At this point, no direct examination of genetics has occurred in DID. However, it is likely to exist, given the genetic link to dissociation in general and in relation to childhood adversity in particular.

I hope you have a dictionary on hand. That sure is a lot of big words that aren't in Firefox's built-in spellchecker. Still, after making sure I got everything, it's clearly not so cut and dry here. And we're back on the "it could be genetic" point.

Tangentially related: I do like the dismissal of the iatrogenic model on the basis of the brain scans.

Neurobiological differences have been demonstrated between dissociative identities within patients with DID and between patients with DID and controls. Given the current evidence, DID as a diagnostic entity cannot be explained as a phenomenon created by iatrogenic influences, suggestibility, malingering, or social role-taking. On the contrary, DID is an empirically robust chronic psychiatric disorder based on neurobiological, cognitive, and interpersonal non-integration as a response to unbearable stress.

Anyway, we're not even on the original page anymore, so I'll call it here. No mention of endogenic plurality, and the citation that claims to dismiss endogenic DID doesn't.

Link 7: NAMI Michigan

While the causes [of DID] are unknown

I'm tired. Aren't you tired?

Treatment for DID consists primarily of psychotherapy with hypnosis.

Yeah I'm calling BS on this one

And no citations on this entire page, nor even the author's name.

Statistics show that DID occurs in 0.01 to 1 percent of the general population.

Research has shown that the average age for the initial development of alters is 5.9 years old.

No sources listed. This is definitely the worst link. Literally on the same level as a rambling Tumblr user in terms of credibility.

Doesn't matter that it says

This disorder is believed to be triggered by physical or sexual abuse in childhood

Couldn't even get this dogshit source to be firm.

This one gets an F.

Link 8: The Psychology Practice

Got scared for a moment there that it said ai. No, that's AL, a name. Also this was written in 2022, so we're definitely safe. Can't actually find any other info on this AL character, but at least we can look up the co-author.

Hm, can't find anything on her, either. Well, at least this is a step up from the previous link. Let's see what it has to say.

According to the Dissociative Identity Research Organisation (2018), DID is formed in childhood due to repeated trauma in early childhood (before age 10) before the personality is fully integrated.

I do like that these later links are direct with this. They don't seem to have a citation for that DIRO, though. Unless...

No. Oh no.

Ok, so this one was written by a couple of clowns who definitely didn't do their homework. Cool. I'm getting tired of humoring awful sources like this, so moving on to the grand finale.

Link 9: NAMI

Wait, this is the same group behind the zero-citation article from Michigan! But that was just Michigan. Maybe the main site can do better.

Ugh, it's just another list of dissociative disorders instead of DID specifically.

The symptoms of a dissociative disorder usually first develop as a response to a traumatic event,

Aren't you tired? Aren't you tired? Aren't you tired?

Often these identities may have unique names, characteristics, mannerisms and voices.

Often? Wow. Sure is a far cry from 5%.

Dissociative disorders are managed through various therapies including: - Psychotherapies such as cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) and dialectical behavioral therapy (DBT) - Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR) - Medications such as antidepressants can treat symptoms of related conditions

No mention of hypnosis, allegedly the primary method of treatment?? (/sarc)

and there was no mention of plurality being exclusive to dissociative disorders

Oh, and no listed authors either.

So, after three thousand words of analysis, all we've come up with are nothing burgers, dogshit, and dogshit nothing burgers. Out of nine links, only one briefly and indirectly touched on endogenic plurality, and it was in favor. Even the argument against the traumaless DID strawman is weak at best. These sources are bad, to put it lightly.

@radpocalypse, if you're reading this, firstly, thank you for powering through your ADHD and dyslexia to read thousands of words dunking on your masterpiece. Secondly, if you have any more sources that you think are backing you, feel free to send them my way. Just uh, maybe read them more closely next time?

And that goes for everyone here. If you think you have a better source, or if I made a mistake or missed something here, I am open to correction. I am open to the idea that I'm wrong and I have some unknown trauma to work through, but I certainly won't go digging unless I have good reason to believe it's there, and I haven't seen any good reason. And if you haven't either, maybe it's time to reconsider your position.

One last thing before I go.

Have you ever actually seen a pro-endo carrd, let alone one cited in standalone? I haven't.

Here's a much longer list of much better sources than yours supporting endogenic plurality compiled by the traumagenic Guardians System. I don't expect you to read anywhere near the whole thing; just pick a few links at random. And yes, while many of them are peer-reviewed papers, some of them are Tumblr posts, but those Tumblr posts cite peer-reviewed papers, so it's all good.

Thanks for reading.

[royboyfanpage]

Hi, I love your page! What are your thoughts on Roy and Connor's relationship?

Hi! Thank you so much, I'm glad you like my posts :) and thank you sososo much for this ask, I love Roy and Connor's relationship and I'm glad I have an opportunity to talk about them. Sorry it's taken me all day to answer, but here you go :)

Short answer? That's his little brother.

Long answer?

I know that "fanon Batfam is canon Arrowfam" is tired and overused, but I really do think that, especially with Roy and Connor, there is some truth to it. While they haven't had too many interactions in canon, there's still a clear arc their relationship takes which I really like.

I don't like Chuck Dixon's Green Arrow run, obviously he's a shitty person but also his writing just isn't for me, but one of the few parts of it I did enjoy was Connor's first meeting with Roy in Green Arrow (1988) #97, prior to Ollie's death. It first establishes one of the most present themes in their relationship, which is the differences in relation to Ollie, and the contrasting experiences of being their father's sons. Roy's the son who grew up with Ollie, he knows him personally, the good and the bad, but his status as Ollie's son is still constantly in question, you can see it back in Longbow Hunters, Ollie calls Roy his son but still denies that that word has meaning ("Roy's a hell of a kid, but he's not mine. Not really.") Whereas Connor, there's never been any doubt that he's Ollie's son, he's his flesh and blood, but he never knew Ollie until he was already in adulthood. He knows Oliver Queen through magazines, but not personally. That's why when Ollie storms off after finding out he's Connor's dad Connor's shocked, but Roy isn't surprised when he hears that from Connor. He knows Ollie, and he knows how his fears of commitment would make him act. While this is only a minor theme of those specific issues where they first met, Roy helping Connor understand what it means to be Oliver Queen's son is one of my favourite parts of their later interaction.

After Ollie's death, there is some tension between Roy and Connor, particularly around Connor joining the JLA in Ollie's place and becoming the new Green Arrow, first mentioned in Teen Titans (1996) #12-

-which is later expanded on in Arsenal #2.

This is really the first time we see Roy and Connor have a heart to heart, and it shows Roy's inferiority complex. Due to tumblr photo limit I can't show more pages for this, but I think the one I chose is the most poignant because, at least in my eyes, it shows the insecurities both of them have in terms of their relation to Ollie, and how each of them address that. Roy's loud, he'll openly speak his mind and say what he feels, and that's why it's primarily about him (that and that it's his mini and Connor's a guest). Roy openly admits feeling inferior to Connor in his position as Ollie's son, even after Ollie's death. Connor, he's quieter about it, and gets spoken over by Roy before he can actually talk about his feelings (which is a pretty consistent problem Connor faces where people expect him to listen but not talk). But you can still see it in his body language, the shadow over his face looking downwards, and while he isn't allowed to finish his sentence you can still tell what he's about to say, that Roy's more of Ollie's son than he is. They both know that the other hasn't actually done anything, but they're not to blame for each feeling their own individual emotions.

They also address the topic of legacy in relation to Ollie in #3, and how there's this unspoken standard to live up to that neither of them ever really can. Roy's Ollie's mentee, his protege, he should be Ollie's legacy, and yet he's not Green Arrow, he's not in the JLA, and he's still coming in second place. Whereas Connor, he is Green Arrow, he's Ollie's legacy, he's in the JLA, but he's a better martial artist than archer.

I wish they'd gotten more opportunities to interact while Ollie was dead because there was SO much potential for them during that period, but alas.

And now, I get to talk about one of my top five comics ever: Boys' Night Out, Green Arrow (2001) #32. Yeah, sure, the whole issue only happened because Ollie wanted Connor out of the house, but it's also the first comic to really explore the brotherly relationship between them, particularly in terms of Roy being older. Roy takes Connor bookshopping despite his own boredom-

-And then takes him to a strip club, where they have another heart to heart.

This page specifically is so important to me, because it's one of the few instances where Connor's actually being heard. Particularly in the 2000s but also in the 90s, a lot of Connor's character was defined by him being the voice of reason, the one who'll talk people down and listen to their problems, which ignores the fact that he's actually a pretty young guy, usually younger than the people he's helping (I suck with ages, I'm pretty sure he was 18 when he was first introduced which, by rough estimate using the Lian Method, would make him around 20-22 in the 2000s). I'm not saying that diminishes his emotional intelligence, he's clearly very emotionally intelligent, but it is a lot of pressure to put on someone that young to constantly be the one holding his family together. That's why I think this whole issue is so important for Connor, it's his chance to actually just be, and Roy's the best person for that. Despite what some fanon and canon characterisations suggest, Roy is absolutely not emotionally immature. Hell, you could make a pretty solid argument that part of the reason he took Connor to a strip club in the first place was to bring up the issue of Connor's sexuality. While asexuality wasn't as popularised as a term back then as it is today, the idea of Connor being queer was very present during Green Arrow (2001), albeit often used as a punchline, and while they're there Connor even gets referred to as a "friend of Madonna" by one of the workers. And while in Roy's head Connor was either gay or just had a low libido at that time, his "you're you and Ollie loves you" speech could very easily be interpreted as acceptance of his sexuality, even before Connor himself had figured it out. It acknowledges that, while Connor's good at helping other people work through their own problems, he's still a young person struggling with his identity, not understanding why he's so different to those around him, even his father. And Roy picks up on that, and tells him that it doesn't matter who or what he is, that what matters most is he's Connor, and him being Connor is enough to warrant love and support.

But Roy also doesn't treat Connor any differently to how he'd treat anyone else. When Connor says something Roy disagrees with, he calls him out

And I think Roy's treatment of Connor as an equal is very important. He doesn't depend on him or treat him like he's this pinnacle of wisdom, but he also doesn't coddle him and treat him like a baby. He calls his ass out, when he needs to! Roy's still a very loud and outspoken person, and he's not gonna change that because he and Connor had a heart to heart. I feel like a big problem with a lot of characters who enter into a family dynamic is that sometimes their writers change who they are at their core in order to have them fit into a specific role in the nuclear family, and while yeah, Roy's absolutely playing the role of an older brother in this issue, he's still Roy Harper, which I think is crucial. And conversely, Connor also calls Roy out when he does something he doesn't like!

I'm running low on the photo limit so apologies for the quality of this collage, and I couldn't fit it in frame but for context Roy just knocked out a robber who Connor was trying to talk down. Connor explains to Roy his reasonings, and Roy apologises! I think this also highlights the differences in terms of their characters. They're both very protective of their families, but Roy tends to act first whereas Connor thinks things through. Roy saw Connor with a gun pointed at him and immediately took action, which contrasts Connor's reaction when Roy gets shot in Outsiders #6

Connor's more of a rational thinker in times of crisis, and he tends to try and think things through and avoid rash decisions, whereas Roy's very much an immediate responder if his family's at stake.

And then it ends with them actually acknowledging each other as brothers!

The ending of Boys' Night Out is so important to me, honestly, and it demonstrates one of the most important features of their relationship- trying to figure out what brotherhood means. There's not a big hug at the end, there doesn't need to be. Just an acknowledgement that they're in each others lives, that they're brothers, and it doesn't matter what that means. It's cool. I adore this issue so much, I had to make like half the post about it because it's so good and it's such a good example of why filler issues are needed. Sure, Williamson's run has it's sweet moments, but an issue like this where two characters just get to interact in a low stake scenario will always be so much more impactful than one hug in a big event.

So, yeah, I think my short answer sums it up pretty well. They're the brothers ever.

[cuteniarose]

since ming-hua/ghazan have 2 kids... what abt zaheer + pli??

(firebender/combustionbender and/or nonbender -> airbender?)

I was gonna answer this earlier but the lack of sleep reared its head 😅 I took a nap and in the meantime received permission to talk about it, though just in case I will still try to keep it brief. A P’heer child does exist in a few of our verses (we aren't lying when we call it the MULTIverse of madness, I can name at least 7 different AUs off the top of my head and that's not counting the variants where only small changes are made. If we ever made a comprehensive list it'd probably be longer than the list of our OCs and that one’s currently up to 31)

Anyway, her name is Nazra, born in about 153 AG if I remember my timeline right, and she’s a combustionbender. But despite being the same height as her mom, possessing easily the deadliest ability imaginable and generally looking rather intimidating, she’s an impossibly awkward nerd who’d rather sit around and read Air Nomad philosophy like her dad all day. Though she does take after her mom in the romantic sense, having a soft spot for airbenders, while simultaneously doing it better because she’s the definition of a disaster lesbian. She’s quiet, a bit anxious and really sheltered, but she does have a feisty streak to her in that she easily calls people (read: her sister/s) out on their bullshit if they annoy her, and isn’t afraid to use her bending to protect those she loves

The reason I’m not quite sure of the extent as to which I’m allowed to talk about her is because she’s not my OC and neither is she Kat’s. She was created for the fic Empty and Become Wind by Esaleyon, a Red Lotus Korra AU which Kat used to beta read for and which we use as basis for the Ultimate AU I described in my response to the Lien-Hua ask. But as far as I know, the author quit writing/the fandom and as I said above, Kat and I took Nazra in, so to speak. But she features in only a small handful of our AUs (currently only 3 come to mind, one of them ironically being the complete polar opposite to the other two in terms of tone and how dark the storyline is) so we don’t speak of her that often. She is still very dear to my heart, has been since 2020, and in the AUs she features in I consider her a sister to Suiren and Midori

If you’re curious, a few years ago Nina (@silima, who single-handedly fed the entire Red Lotus fandom with amazing art back in 2020-2022 or so) drew her, thus creating the design that I base my own sketches off of, so everyone say thank you Nina :)

[brandonxdylan]

Ranking the GAY EPISODES of Beverly Hills, 90210 - Part 1

Pride month may be coming to a close, but I didn’t want to let it slip by without doing a little something special. I thought it would be fun to do an overview of all of the gay-themed storylines from the series. There were quite a few of them over the years (although not as many as there were seasons of the show, which perhaps is saying something), especially considering for a show that didn’t have any significant queer content on a consistent basis, and certainly no gay regulars to speak of. These episodes run the gamut from throwaway fluff to pretty dark and heavy, and I’m going to rank them in terms of how effectively I think they handle the “gay” element (spoiler alert: not well), as well as how satisfying they are in terms of soapy drama.

I really tried to give these episodes a fair shake, knowing that it would be pointless to judge them for not delivering deeply nuanced takes in an era where we simply were not getting that on prime time network television. I feel like they still mostly fall short, but there’s enough good stuff in here to warrant some genuine consideration.

A couple of caveats before going forward. First of all, some of these episodes deal with some serious themes (AIDS, suicide, gay bashing), so consider yourself trigger warned. Secondly, this post is all in good fun, so lets not take it (or my hot takes) too seriously.

#8.) Crimes and Misdemeanours (Season 8, Episode 19)

Kicking things off, in dead last we have this dud from season 8, which has precisely one, single joke to offer, and still manages to screw it up. Steve runs into a woman at the Peach Pit, and while flirting with her, makes passing reference to Brandon, his “partner.” Obviously, he means business partner, but when she invites Steve and his “boyfriend” Brandon to lunch with she and her “girlfriend,” she clearly means it, and Steve somehow doesn’t think anything of it, and is all to happy to report to Brandon that he snagged them an awesome double date. At lunch, the two “couples” somehow get through the entire meal just beating around the bush, with the women (obviously lesbians by this point) clearly referring to Brandon and Steve as a couple, but these dummies of course don’t pick up on any of this out of sheer dimwittery and, I don’t know, super thick hetero-goggles or something. No, it’s not until Steve and Brandon are invited to the women’s apartment for dinner (which Steve expects to be an orgy, because of course he does) and they’re literally staring at the one bed shared by both women that either of them start to realize what’s really going on. Gay panic ensues, and the whole thing is played for laughs (not that there are any). I’m a sucker for these ridiculous sicomy setups involving misunderstandings and misplaced romantic interest, and this show can occasionally do them well (the luau episode from season 10 is a fabulous example of this, and also has some fun gay content - more on that later), but the problem is none of this is funny or surprising. Neither is it insensitive or exploitative. It’s just kind of stupid. The reveal can be seen coming a mile away, and the whole episode is just buildup to what I’ll generously call the punchline. A better show would’ve done a lot more with this, maybe playing with the concept of Steve seeing heterosexuality as the default, and being blind to other possibilities. Ideally, it also would have had more than one joke.

#7.) Comic Relief/Santa Knows (Season 8, Episodes 13-14)

David takes a job at a car wash, where he notices a bunch of his coworkers making very boring and unimaginative gay jokes about a young male employee named Ben who lives in the garage’s office due to the fact that his dad kicked him out for being gay. David confronts Ben’s parents in the hopes of getting them to see the error of their ways, but the interaction ends with Ben’s dad choosing to declare that “I don’t have a son,” rather than accept Ben for who he is. It’s really harsh, but in dad’s defense, David has very little tact, and it’s really none of his business considering he met Ben five minutes ago. In spite of this, Ben still holds out hope for a reconciliation. While his mom is somewhat more receptive than his dad, she still tells Ben that it’s for the best that he give his dad time to cool down. David once again intervenes, asking Ben’s mom - a woman who is very clearly deeply torn between her love for her son and her need to grant her husband the authority he commands - why she can’t just explain to her husband why taking Ben back in is the right thing to do, as if it’s just that easy. And that’s really the problem with this storyline. It deals with some really dark and emotionally complicated subject matter, and it’s just so glaringly obvious that telling this story from the perspective of a detached outsider is not the best way to approach it. Especially considering it’s David, whose track record for empathy and compassion is fucking zero. Give this to someone like Steve, which would allow him to experience some emotional growth alongside Ben’s parents, or Valerie, who has her own history of familial turmoil (though she does pop up later in this episode and isn’t much more helpful than David, so maybe scratch that one). All of this proves to be too much for Ben to take, and David discovers that he plans to slit his wrists. This is where Val gets involved, as she and David basically just berate Ben into not hurting himself, with Val insisting that she understands Ben’s particular struggles more than she actually does or possibly could. They both give him the “tough love” treatment which, hey, is maybe not what this kid whose parents openly hate him actually needs. Still, it all ends up somewhat happily because of course all Ben and his parents really needed was for someone from the gang to show up out of nowhere and yell at them a bit in order to figure their shit out. This is a story worth telling, but coming at it from the perspective of someone who has nothing to do with it doesn’t allow for much depth. And it really doesn’t satisfy as a soapy plot line either. Even that would require more of an investment from the viewer, and we simply don’t have time or reason to suddenly be all in on this character who comes out of nowhere for two episodes and then disappears forever. Ultimately, this story is just too bleak and depressing to be much fun, and too shallow to be emotionally satisfying.

#6.) Summer Storm (Season 2, Episode 3)

This isn’t ranked low because it’s a bad episode. On the contrary, it’s actually a pretty good episode from one of the show’s best seasons, and builds on one of the show’s most iconic storylines - namely, Brenda and Dylan. However, that doesn’t really concern us here. What does concern us is the B story, about how Kelly meets a cute volleyball player named Kyle. They flirt a bit and eventually go on a date, but when Kelly starts putting the moves on Kyle, he suggests they cool it. Spoiler alert, it’s because he (sort of) comes out as gay later in the episode. But even if he didn’t, Kelly’s reaction to this is really weird. She takes it oddly personally that he doesn’t want to get naked with her on the first date, and gives him the cold shoulder the next day. I haven’t watched these early seasons in several years now but I guess Kelly’s always been a pouty drama queen. Anyway, Kyle does eventually confide in Kelly, telling her that he’s tried to be into girls, and that he genuinely likes her, but that he knows they can’t be more than friends. It’s kind of cute, and Kyle’s conundrum is a pretty common one. Though it’s definitely possible to assume he doesn’t come out as fully gay because the show didn’t want to go too far, it’s also kind of nice to get a portrayal of a character in the process of figuring out his sexuality, without any clear resolution. That is how it works in real life sometimes after all. But considering this is such a minor storyline and the queer content is pretty tepid, it’s hard to rank this any higher than I have it.

#5.) Baby, You Can Drive My Car/Family Tree (Season 10, Episodes 8-9)

Dylan meets with a guy named Andrew, who is one of the directors of a local community centre for kids, in order to discuss making a hefty donation. Andrew makes passing reference to an ex-boyfriend, which prompts a discussion about how Andrew has to remain closeted among co-workers out of fear of losing his job. He knows that there are some bigots out there who would have some not-so-great feelings about a gay man working with their kids (that old chestnut), and his co-director is apparently one of them. Dylan tries to reason that “hey, it’s the 90s,” and that Andrew shouldn’t have to be closeted for those reasons. Andrew, of course, knows better, and while he agrees that no, he shouldn’t have to, the fact remains that he does. To demonstrate that at least he accepts Andrew for who he is, Dylan puts his arm around him in a playful (yet platonic way). Unfortunately, this happens in a dark parking lot and within the presence of a group of homophobes whom proceed to attack Dylan and Andrew with a baseball bat. While Dylan manages to wrestle the bat away from one of the guys (sure) and escapes with just a few bumps and bruises, Andrew doesn’t get off quite as easy. Dylan’s eager to spill details to the cops, but Andrew refuses, on the grounds that he not only doesn’t want to drag this whole unpleasant incident out any further, but he also doesn’t want to draw any more attention that might put him (and his job) at further risk. Andrew’s fears prove to be perfectly justified when, through circumstance, his co-director, Patsy, finds out anyway, and suggests Andrew take a (permanent) leave of absence. As is always the case with this show when there’s a Gay in trouble, a member of the gang makes it their problem to solve, and so Dylan confronts Patsy about Andrew being let go. Although Andrew specifically tells Dylan that he doesn’t want his help, fearing that pushing his luck with Patsy is just going to make things more public and humiliating, Dylan says that he can’t justify donating to a bigoted organization, and he threatens to pull his funding if Patsy doesn’t agree to hire Andrew back. She reluctantly relents, allowing Andrew to return to work, but she pulls her son from Andrew’s basketball team, and soon enough, more kids start to drop out for the same reasons. As things escalate, Andrew decides that if his presence is going to detract from the mission of the centre - to provide care and support for kids - then he should quit. However, Dylan swoops in with one more ace up his sleeve. He talks to Patsy’s son directly, and gets him to question whether he really is uncomfortable with Andrew, or if it’s just his mother’s influence that’s making him think that way. This works, and all of the kids who had previously dropped out assure Andrew that they not only want him there, but they need him there. All in all, this is a decent storyline, but it does engage with a few tropes that rub me the wrong way. First of all, it’s never not at least a little annoying to watch straight characters sanctimoniously decide that doing their version of “the right thing” is more important than respecting the wishes of the gay characters whose safety and livelihood is what’s actually at risk, and this storyline is a pretty egregious example of that. It also follows the usual 90210 pattern of having characters just badger others relentlessly until they conveniently get their way. Granted, this case gets a bit of a pass in that regard, because the tirade that Dylan fires at Patsy is kind of satisfying, and Luke Perry is a good enough actor to make it feel properly motivated and believable. We do love an ally king.

Watch for Part 2!

[thelampisaflashlight]

Some mild venting below the cut, nothing too serious, but this makes it easier to scroll past. It's a long one, so just know that if you decide to dive in. Messy family stuff.

So two of my siblings are not really talking right now, they're not fighting, but they aren't in active communication.

For the sake of this post, we're call them Alice and Sue.

Alice is the older of the two -and the eldest sibling of the four of us- and the one who, as I understand it, the main cause of this dead air so to speak.

Out of the lot of us, Alice is the most like our mother in terms of temperament.

This is both a good and a bad thing, and, while not wholly her fault, it does lead to situations such as the one we're currently dealing with; Alice has recently had to leave her house and move into an apartment, and to top it all off, her husband, my brother-in-law, is in the hospital again.

So my aunt, we'll call her Jen, found out about this and offered to help her retrieve her belongings from a storage unit, because my aunt knows better than to undertake this task alone, she asked me if I would be willing to help out.

I said yes, as I haven't seen or talked to my sister in five years -she doesn't have my number, I don't have hers, I have offered to have Jen give it to her, she never got back to me, it is what it is- and figured there are worse ways to waste a Sunday.

Anyway, Sunday came and we had to reschedule last minute because of timing, not a problem, we're doing it this weekend instead.

Well, Aunt Jen asks me to see if I can't find other people to help out, and I say, "Yeah, I'll ask our brother and see if he can swing it."

And then she asks me about Sue.

Now, I already know Alice has issues with Sue, the details of which are... unclear.

The best I can explain it, is that Alice maybe has some resentment towards Sue that doesn't extend to our brother and myself since we're A LOT younger -talking two decades, folks, not one, but two-, whereas Alice and Sue are more or less a year apart.

Pretty much from jump street these two haven't gotten along, and while it may now go both ways, I have been told that hasn't always been the case, but my source on that is biased.

Read: the source is my father, who is neither Alice nor Sue's biological father, this is important for later, and he greatly favors Sue, as Sue was often mistaken for his child, whereas Alice greatly resembles our mom.

Anyway, Aunt Jen suggests the idea of having Sue help move Alice into her new home, and I express to her, not in a roundabout way, that I did not think it would be a good idea.

Which, of course, lead to questions, ones that I couldn't possibly know the answer to, and ones I was uncertain of whether or not *I* should be the one to answer.

Well, Sue found out I was going to help Alice move and she was...

Fine with it?

We talked a bit about it and she asked how long it had been since I'd seen Alice, and we talked a bit about her feelings on things.

Sue was pretty forthcoming with her reasons for not helping Alice, initially joking that she was being petty, but the truth is her reasons are not, how to put it?

They were valid reasons.

From having helped Alice move two times prior, her lack of communication/not initiating conversations, and...

...Not helping with their dad's end of life care and/or involving herself in the discussions about what they would be doing with him, but then delaying the internment indefinitely due to the chosen date not working for her personally.

Basically; Sue is tired of being the one having to reach out, and Alice is not inclined to asking for help/does not offer help when it is requested.

You're allowed to say you don't want to/can't help, but when it's a continued cycle of, "Can you...?" "No." it does tend to cause a rift.

But my aunt Jen doesn't see it that way.

She thought that maybe if Sue helped out this time, that maybe SHE would come around to talking to Alice, and that that would repair things.

I put it kind of bluntly when she asked again today and just said, "I can't be playing the middle man between these two, and I don't think it would be appropriate to force them to interact under stressful circumstances such as this."

Because, really, they might be my sisters, but they're both grown adults with jobs and families of their own, and I'm a twenty-something single nerd whose main priorities right now are not getting sick and being able to afford cat food.

If they want to talk, they'll talk, and if not, it's not my job to nudge them together, nor should it be.

It also does not help that I, too, am somewhat biased towards which sister I "like the best", but that's because one has been more present in my life and helped raise me after our mother passed, so I cannot act as a neutral party either.

It's impossible for me to go, "Well, let's hear both sides-" because I have only known one side of it for most of my life now, and that side almost adopted me when my home life was unstable as a child.

You see what I'm saying?

So when my aunt asked me why they weren't talking, I kept it as neutral as I could manage, coming from the position I am.

I want to help Alice, because she's my sister and she's needs the help, but I'm not going to drag Sue into it, because it wouldn't be good for anyone involved.

I wish I could say I can wash my hands of this situation after Sunday, but I also don't know how Sunday is going to go.

But we'll see.

And that's all you can really do.

[taibobo]

brain damaged postal dude mental illness lore hcs no one asked for and also self ship stuff

he has some kind of dissociative identity disorder, whether it’s DID or OSDD or how many alters he may have is entirely unclear and his levels of amnesia vary wildly depending on his mental state/what his alters were doing/why they fronted

the only alter he’s had contact with/actually recognizes the existence of is alter dude/the other dude (he calls him the other dude, but the alter self identifies as alter dude)

alter dude is pretty self aware of the reason why he exists and holds some significant level of childhood trauma related to postal dude’s father (who in this universe/my hc is the postal 1 postal dude or someone similar. an extremely mentally unstable paranoid man who may have involuntarily taken his delusions out on his kid. american health care is not good) this is why alter dude has the voice of rick hunter

postal dude is fairly pacifist and doesn’t kill people often, while alter dude kills people with only some modicum of discretion, usually when they’re keeping him from or antagonizing him while getting things done. postal dude is somewhat aware of this but has stopped letting it affect him because it doesn’t seem to matter

my s/i (i’m just gonna use first person from here on out lol) was informed at the beginning of the relationship that postal dude has at least one recognizable alter and was just like “oh. okay cool (is also mentally ill)” cause idgaf clearly

i am dating postal dude formally and dating alter dude informally. neither of them care because they consider themselves two parts of a whole and not really separate people. even if they did consider themselves separate identities they are not really the monogamous exclusive type so

alter dude is the less touchy/affectionate of the two, but makes up with it in a lot of false bravado and corny embarrassing dom flirting (he doesn’t know what he’s doing. he doesn’t exactly front during sex or dates and his memories of those aren’t shared mostly so he’s basically a hapless virgin)

postal dude is more physical in terms of his love language, but speaks much more casually and frankly as if i am like his best friend who he makes out with and says he loves. very good chill vibes

sometimes they get mad at each other because they basically operate like roommates who never see each other in terms of living. postal dude complaining about alter dude not washing the dishes or eating his food when he knows he’s been out, alter dude annoyed that postal dude doesn’t do his specific strange neurodivergent rituals, etc. they don’t actually hate each other though they just like to squabble

though dude’s head trauma didn’t give him his dissociative disorder or exacerbate it or anything it probably gave him some sort of physical symptom like chronic migraines or nerve damage. as someone who also has both of these i love projecting ❤️ and also it would make me a good nurse for him ❤️

i call alter dude A.D but he doesn’t like when anyone else calls him that. he just prefers being called dude by everyone else as if he’s the same guy as postal dude because he finds drawing attention to himself causes him more problems (which makes him want to kill which triggers his stuff about his dad which makes him more violent etc etc. negative feedback loop. he’s gotten a little better at grounding himself though)

champ can tell the difference between the two and treats them differently. he’s basically their service dog but without any real formal training. he’s just a smart boy

[minetteskvareninova]

Minette Watched The Princess and the Queen: Assorted Thoughts

- Pretty Thing Of The Episode: Daemon’s nightcloak. It’s nice to see men dress well for once.

- This one kinda dragged in the middle, but what a finish. Still, I am not wild about the timeskip. We get no Harwin x Rhaenyra intimacy, except for some longing looks - like, the woman probably stayed with him for ten years for a reason, if only we knew what that reason is! Also, no Daemon courting Laena (like, why did she or her parents agree to this match anyway?!), no Rhaenyra with her cool in-laws and so much other things that don’t allow us to appreciate the relationships between characters we came to this show after all. I know neither of these things is super important for the plot, but damnit, I wanted to see all of that! Both me and the characters deserve to feel some happiness before everything goes tits up in season 2! Also, we never learn how Criston Cole avoided charges of murder, besides “Alicent vouched for him I guess”.

- ‘Tis the season of trash fathers, y’all. We get no Leanor with the boys, and the less about Daemon’s parenting, or the lack thereof, the better. It does make the daemyra posts about Daemon as a dad to his girls funny in retrospect. Even Viserys, who you’d think is a veteran dad, and thus would have an edge over the other at least, is too old and decrepit to properly parent his children, meaning Criston Cole of all people has to step up. Like, it’s downright hilarious to watch Criston accuse Harwin of being the true father of Rhaenyra’s children, because he cares about them, when he obviously cares just as much about the children of his BFF.

- Aegon the Trashy begins his reign early, like I know teenage boys are assholes, but this kid really tests my patience. Of course, it’s not like he’s ever going to get better. I have a lot more sympathies for Aemon Still-Both-Eyes-For-Now, actually, which is a miracle, because I hated his book counterpart’s guts. Helaena wasn’t there for a very long time, but her scene with her mum and bug collection was cure. She seems nice, which just makes my knowledge of future events all the more heartbreaking. I don’t know if Daeron will be in the show, and I don’t even know if I want him to, considering he’s just one more good person tragically dying because of the whole shebang.

- Speaking of good people dying! Larys made quite an impression this episode. I am a bit miffed that we don’t actually know what his relationship with his dad and brother was, like if Lyonel openly preferred Harwin, it would at least make him look like less of a sociopath (I mean, not NOT like a sociopath, but oh well). On the other hand, I do commend his successes in outcunting Daemon. He’s truly shaping to be the Littlefinger of the Dance, and honestly? I’m here for it.

- Laena was a bit of a typical Wet Blanked Wife while on screen (an actual term, look it up on TV Tropes), which feels a bit weird for the rider of fucking Vhagar, especially since Rhaenyra does basically the same thing in this episode (making me sideye the creators somewhat). She did at least get an absolutely epic death scene, and I love that they didn’t go with the whole Daemon’s dragon baby thing, because it fits with my own personal headcanons (basically, the kid was just stillborn and it was Otto who spread the rumors about it being somewhat draconic, because Maegor the Cruel parallels).

- Alicent is in her That Bitch era, and again, I am here for it. It is a bit unfortunate that she needs Larys to push her into outright villainy, even if it does make her more sympathetic in the short run. I guess it wouldn’t be fair considering Rhaenyra hasn’t done anything super evil yet? Like, I do want the two of them to be somewhat on the even ground morality-wise, otherwise what’s the point of their rivalry if one of them is clearly the bad guy.

- Nooo, baby, don’t wish for your terrible father to come back, you’re so sexy haha... Seriously, like there’s not enough bad dads in this family!

- Both of my girls are capable politicians by now, which makes me happy too. And Rhaenyra supporting Daemon’s Stepstones project, which he himself abandoned, because he has the attention span of a puppy on crack. Do I sense some, eh, political dalliance?

[untitleddepressingramblings]

I actually hate this blog. I hate that I have this record of my lowest moments. But there we go. It's here for a reason.

Three weeks ago, I came out as transgender to my family, and it was the worst day of my life. It went worse than even my worst-case scenarios I'd envisioned in my head, there has been absolutely no consideration of doing anything but misgendering me. I'm relieved that I haven't got a 'deadname' as such, that I'm comfortable with my birth name, because until I gave that assurance anyway my mum was clear on having no intention of calling me anything else even if I asked.

Since then, I have felt like a prisoner in my own home. I am, in a way. Not by them, just by circumstance. I'm unemployed, so despite how much I want to, I'm not in a position to move out right now. Even if I had a job, I think I'd be pushing my luck moving out alone, I'd need to share with someone else, but the person who I was planning on moving in with has pulled out. And that's not something to be angry at them for, they're not in a great place right now and don't feel like they're in a position mentally to make that kind of choice. I'm not their responsibility, and they need to do what's right for them. But it's certainly put me in a tough position, and I now feel like i have little way to get out.

Because I can't really risk sharing with strangers, not as I'm getting my head around transitioning. I'd need to go in with at least an assurance that I was going into a space that would be safe for me as a trans person, and I'm not sure how I'd even go about finding that. But I just need to get out.

I had hoped I just needed to break the anxiety cycle. I went away to my old uni city for a couple of days, gave myself some space and some time to think. I met up with my best friend and had a lovely afternoon with them. I had an amazing time. These two mornings were two of the few in the past few weeks I haven't woken up feeling anxious. I got to properly try on the dress I bought recently. I got to be me entirely for a couple of days. I was hoping it would ground me a bit, let me get back to normal and deal with everything better. It didn't.

I still wake up feeling anxious.

It's gotten to the point where I can barely speak to my mum (whose reaction was far more actively upsetting than my dad's, even though neither use the right pronouns), and whenever I try to talk like normal, I feel this guilt because I know it's fake. The truth is that I never imagined she would be so dismissive, so eager to ignore not just my identity but my wishes, so lacking in respect for my agency as an individual. Let alone that she would go so easily into pretty blatant ableism, arguing that I'm probably just autistic and therefore don't have enough maturity to know these things (I'm not autistic, and even if I was that's horseshit). Honestly, I've lost all respect for her. It's like she's a different person, someone I just don't recognise, someone who I can't be around without being reminded of the thing she said, the way she dismissed my identity, questioned the integrity of my friendships ('are you sure they're not just humouring you?'), and the look of pure shame on her face. The rest of my family, my dad and my brothers, I think they'll be fine long term, that they just need to get used to it, see how happy I am (I mean, my youngest brother is fine already, he's young enough to be chill). But her? I honestly have no way to hope. And I'm not sure I even want to. It's a fucking hard truth to swallow, but the truth is that I don't think I want her in my life. Once I move out, I want as little to do with her as possible. I don't know how I could ever dream of saying that, but it's true.

The thing is, I was doing okay before. Not great, but okay. I didn't like being called 'he', but it's not like I could blame anyone for doing it. Now it's different. Now they know better, and they're choosing to ignore it. How am I supposed to live in that kind of environment? I deserve better.

I know I'll find a way out eventually, I'm looking for work, I'm doing what I can. But right now I feel, almost all the time, like I'm carrying this weight around, I feel like I can't breathe. I thought I might just need some time, but it's been three weeks, and I still feel like shit. And I just want it to stop.

[sacredsorceress]

Her Hand || Bucky Barnes

pairing: 40’s!bucky barnes x rogers!reader

summary: after months of keeping your relationship a secret, your brother steve finds out and bucky has an important question to ask him

a/n: another addition to my bucky x rogers!reader collection because i simply could not get them off of my mind last week and i also love bucky and steve’s friendship with all my heart

word count: 2.5k

warnings: quick fight, none

masterlist || request || taglist

1941

You and Bucky had been seeing each other behind your brother’s back for months. You were shocked you both had gone on for so long without Steve finding out considering how neither of you could keep your hands off of each other. Whether it was sneaking kisses when your brother wasn’t looking or holding hands under tables- you needed each other like you needed air.

Despite the fact that Bucky was his best friend, you knew the moment your brother found out everything would change. Steve was nothing if not overprotective of you since the deaths of your parents and his own struggles growing up. He just wanted what was best for you and you knew that, but sometimes the lines were blurred on what that was- especially when it would come to dating... and dating Bucky no less.

So, not wanting to risk your brother’s rage and his friendship with Bucky, the two of you had been keeping your relationship a secret. You knew eventually you would have to tell him, but you both were in such romantic bliss that you told yourself that was a future problem.

You had first told yourself that ten months ago and the future was bound to catch up.

“Buck, you need to go.” You giggled against his lips before pressing yours against his once again. “He’s gonna wake up.”

“C’mon Y/n.” Bucky chuckled, gripping your waist tighter and pulling you closer to him. “He sleeps like a rock. Just let me in, hmm? Just for one night?”

“Shh!” You hushed him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re not stepping into my room while my brother’s home without a ring on this finger, mister. You understand me Barnes?”

“Doll,” He groaned, throwing his head back which just made you laugh harder. “You know I’ve got a plan- you just gotta be patient, Y/n- trust me.”

Lacing your fingers into his hair, you laughed against his lips.

“Shush, James. You’re gonna wake him up!” You whispered. “You gotta head home.”

“If you insist. One more kiss?” He asked.

“One more.”

Pressing your lips against his, you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, both of you laughing out of pure bliss. 

Pulling yourself away, you opened your eyes and turned your head to the side only to be met with the sight of your brother standing in the doorway of your apartment.

Eyes growing wide and heart thumping in your chest, you and Bucky jumped away from each other, you pushing him behind you.

“Steve, I can explain.” You pleaded, holding your hands out in front of you.

Watching as his hands balled into fists at his sides, you knew you weren’t going to be getting out of this one easily.

“You better have a damn good explanation.” He said, firmly.

“Steve, I-” Bucky attempted to speak up, moving from his spot behind you to be by your side.

“You can have every girl in this city, Buck, and you just have to go after my sister too?” Steve asked in disgust, cutting off his friend.

Glancing from your brother to his friend, catching a sadness you had never seen before in his eyes, you shook your head.

“Stevie it’s not like that-”

“It’s always like that, Y/n!” Your brother shouted, turning his attention back to you while pointing an accusing finger at Bucky. “You don’t know what he’s like! He takes out a different girl every day and I used to turn my head, but God damn it! My sister too?”

You and Bucky had always known that there wouldn’t be a necessarily positive reaction from your brother when you first told him, but standing in the midst of the situation now you both wished you could escape to seconds before.

A part of you felt so guilty you wished you had told him earlier.

Maybe his reaction wouldn’t have been so bad.

“Steve, I- I don’t do that anymore.” Bucky said, his voice faltering. “I know that I’ve done stuff like that in the past, but it’s over for me now. I care about your sister, Steve. I love her.”

Rather than relax at his friend’s confession of love, you watched as your brother took a deep, long, shaky breath.

“How long has this been going on?” He asked.

“Steve-” You attempted to ease him.

“I said ‘how long has this been going on!’” He shouted this time.

“Ten months.” Bucky confessed calmly from beside you.

It happened so quickly that you couldn’t stop it.

Rather than shout once again, seeing red, you watched as Steve threw himself at Bucky, shoving him to ground and climbing on top of him.

“Oh my God!” You shouted in shock, wrapping your arms around your brother’s torso to pull him off of your lover. “Steve, get off of him!”

Rather than let go, your brother pulled the collar of Bucky’s shirt, shoving him against the floor.

“Ten months!” Steve shouted. “You’ve been seeing my sister for ten fucking months and you didn’t say anything? She’s not something that you can just mess around with-”

Throwing a punch to his best friend’s face, Bucky cursing in pain but not moving to throw Steve off of him, you found the strength to tug Steve hard enough to pull him off, you both falling to the ground in the process.

“Shit!” Bucky cursed, holding his eye.

Glancing from your brother back to Bucky, you pushed yourself to your feet, making your way to Bucky’s side. You dropped to your knees and attempted to examine his wound before turning back to your brother.

“You know- this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.” You told your brother. “I mean, God, Steve you’re so overprotective of me. You get so mad when people think you can’t fight or handle yourself, but you do the same shit to me. I can handle myself! I’ve known Buck just as long as you and I know what he used to be like but it’s not like that anymore, Steve. I know what I’m doing. I’m with Bucky and you can either come to terms with that or... I don’t know... but I’m not leaving him.”

Noticing how your brother’s shoulders began to relax and his fists loosened at his sides, you turned back to Bucky, gently brushing your fingertips against the bruise forming around his eye.

“I should get you some ice.”

Rather than agreeing, Bucky shook his head adamantly.

“No. Leave it doll.” He groaned, moving his hands up to hold his eye once again. “I deserve it.”

Glancing back up at Steve you saw him sigh before reaching his hand out for Bucky to take. Glancing at you and then Steve’s hand, Bucky took it, Steve pulling him to his feet.

An awkward silence hanging between the three of you for a brief moment, Steve was the first to speak up.

“Y/n, can you leave us alone for a few minutes?” Your brother asked.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged standing up. “You gonna try to throw him over the fire escape?”

“Y/n, it’s okay.” Bucky said, pushing himself up to his elbows. “Head inside. I’ll be fine.”

Eyeing Bucky and then your brother, you sighed, shoving past Steve to reach the open door of you and your brother’s shared apartment.

“If I see another bruise on his face, Steve, I sweat to God I’ll kill you.”

And with that you shut the door.

Watching the door slam and his face, Steve sighed, moving to sit on the steps that led up to your apartment, Bucky following behind. 

Groaning as he slowly situated himself beside his friend, Bucky glanced at Steve and sighed.

“I’m sorry for not telling you.” Bucky said, staring out into the dark night in front of him. “I was just afraid of what would happen when you found out. You’re my best friend and I didn’t want you to get so pissed that you never wanted to talk to me again... or never let me talk to her again. I really love your sister though, Steve. This isn’t like the other ones.”

Steve knew without him even saying it that you were different from his past relationships. He had never seen his friend so sincere, so vulnerable. Ten months was far beyond the longest relationship Bucky had ever been in which lasted a total of three weeks. Ten months was a long while for anybody- especially his best friend.

“So uh... ten months huh?” Steve asked, glancing at his friend sat beside him. “That’s a... that’s a long time.”

“Yeah.” Bucky agreed, turning to face Steve. “That’s kinda why I’m glad you know now. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about... if you’re in a good mood anyway. I don’t want a matching shiner.”

Not being able to hold back his laugh, Steve chuckled, nodding his head.

“Go ahead, Buck.”

Although Bucky had run through this conversation since one month into your relationship, as he sat there now next to Steve, he didn’t know if he would actually be able to say it. He had gone through hundreds of different scenarios thousands of times, but choosing the right one in this important moment seemed almost impossible.

His mind drifting to you though, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He didn’t want to. In his mind he had already waited long enough.

“I just want to do this right, Steve.” He said, facing his friend, trying his best to sit still and stay calm. “You know, I’ve thought about how I have to do this my whole life- asking the dad and everything- but I don’t know if it’s better or worse that I have to ask my best friend.” Bucky chuckled. “I know your sister can handle herself and everything- she would say that it’s stupid that I’m even asking you and everything- but I love her and I just want to do this right because she’s it for me, pal.”

“What are you saying?” Steve asked.

“I wanna marry her, Steve.” Bucky said finally. “And I don’t want you to think this just came out of nowhere. I’ve known for a while. Ma gave me her ring ‘n everything and I’ve been ready for so long, but I couldn’t do it without telling you and asking you for her hand ‘n all.”

Staring at his friend, eyes growing wide, it hit Steve for the first time just how serious not only Bucky was, but your relationship. You were Steve’s little sister, adopted at an age that he had barely known life without you and Bucky was his best friend- a friendship forged so young that he couldn’t remember not having him by his side. It was hard for Steve to believe the words he was hearing out of Bucky’s mouth.

Not only were you and Bucky in love with each other, but he was ready to devote his life to you.

“Wow, Buck.” Steve exclaimed at a loss for words. “What happened to her being a ‘nosy punk’?”

Chuckling, Bucky shrugged.

“C’mon you know I always had a soft spot for her.” He said. “I don’t know... things changed. I’m sorry for not telling you, pal, I am. I was just scared of losing her ‘cause she’s the best damned thing that ever happened to me.”

Moving his hand to Steve’s shoulder, Bucky gripped it gently.

“I promise I’ll take care of her.” Bucky said sincerely. “As much as she’ll hate it- I’ll do everything I can to protect her. I know I don’t have much, but I’ll give her a good life, Steve. I’m with her until the end and then some. I’ll be haunting her ass as soon as I’m six feet under.”

Not being able to help the laugh that escaped his mouth, Steve chuckled, resting his hand on his friend’s shoulder in return.

“So you really love her?” Steve asked.

“Steve, I’m asking you to let me marry her.” He said. “Of course I love her.”

Removing his hand from his friend’s shoulder, Steve shook his head in disbelief.

“This is a lot to take in, Buck.”

And it was. 

You were his sister and as hard as it was, he would do whatever it took to protect you. He almost couldn't help but feel a part of his heart sink, feeling as though you didn’t need him anymore. But as he stared at his best friend and heard both yours and Bucky’s words replaying in his mind he couldn’t find it in himself to stand between either of the people he cared for most.

The longer Steve thought about it, the more relieved he was that his two favorite people had found their way to each other.

“You promise you’ll take good care of her?” Steve asked, glancing at his friend in the dark night, only the light shining through the window of the apartment highlighting his face.

“I promise, pal.”

Staring straight ahead of him, Steve finally nodded.

“You have my blessing- or whatever it is- to ask her.” Steve said, giving his permission. “It’s her decision, but I’m not gonna stand in your way, Buck. Just don’t forget about your brother-in-law, alright?”

Not being able to help the complete and utter joy he was feeling from the pieces finally coming together in his life, Bucky shook his head, laughing.

“God, ‘brother-in-law’.” Bucky repeated. “This is really happening, huh?”

“I guess so.” Steve smiled, standing to his feet. “Now go plan that proposal and everything. You’ve convinced me, now you just gotta convince her.”

Only chuckling in response, still sitting on his spot on the step, Bucky fiddled with his fingers, basking in the relief of the weight he had been under finally being lifted off of his chest.

Moving towards the door of his apartment, Steve glanced over his shoulder at his best friend.

“Hey Buck?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“For uh...” Steve said, clearing his throat. “For what it’s worth... I’m glad it’s you.”

Not giving him an opportunity to reply, Bucky listened as the door shut behind Steve, leaving Bucky on the steps of your fire escape alone with his thoughts.

Slipping his hand into his pocket Bucky pulled out the ring his mother had given him two months before, twisting it around in his fingers. It took everything in his power at that moment to not knock on the door of your apartment and propose to you right then and there. Instead, he closed his eyes, feeling the cool metal against his skin, planning just the right way to convince his best girl to spend the rest of her life with a lovesick fool like him.

[staticscreenwriting]

HOME // Bucky Barnes

Request: Could you do a Bucky Barnes imagine where he blips but the reader is pregnant so when he comes back he meets their daughter? If not that’s totally understandable and I hope you have an amazing day/night 💕

A/N: Look, I love writing angsty Bucky. But I also love writing happy Bucky. Hope y’all love reading this ♥  Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

Join my taglist here! [additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Thanos being defeated was not the end of it all. It seemed like it. The grand heroic solution to all problems. The ultimate test before things got better. Before they got easier.

That was a lie.

Bucky looks across the vast area of the Stark’s estate as people, all dressed in black, mourn the loss of a dear friend, an idol, a husband, a father.

That word sends a wave of anxiety and fear through him. He knows he can’t run forever and really, he doesn’t want to. He just doesn’t know how to deal with — everything. How to be the man he needs to be. How to step up and not fuck this up.

Sometimes fear makes you do stupid things, really stupid things. Like avoiding the love of your life because you are too afraid of what she might think of you.

His eyes find (Y/N) as she leans against a tree, lips pulled into a sad smile as Sam rambles about one thing or another next to her. This isn’t right. Sam shouldn’t be the one cheering her up and trying to get her to smile. It should be him. If only he wasn’t such a coward.

People don’t talk about these things though. They only talk about those that had been gone now being back again. They talk about the joy of being reunited but not the fears, the sadness, the disappointment — and they sure as hell don’t talk about the guilt.

The guilt of coming back after 5 years to find out you missed so many important moments in the life of a child you never knew you had.

His eyes wander down towards the little girl holding on tightly to her mother’s hand. She has his eyes, his dark hair, his lips. She’s a spitting image of his younger sister. A Barnes through and trough.

Every time he looks at her his heart beats out of his chest in a way he’s never felt before. When they say that the love for your own child is an instant emotion, they are not wrong or exaggerating.

The moment he came back from oblivion and first laid eyes on her, it felt like his heart had known her all his life. He wanted to hold her and shelter her from all the bad things the world might throw her way. Wanted to kiss her little nose and read her stories and sing her silly little songs. He hated singing but for her, he wanted to do it. Just because that’s what dads do.

But fear is one hell of an emotion and above all, it’s terribly convincing.

He’d never had a particularly good example of a father. It was different times then. Different ways of raising your child. Fathers weren’t meant to show affection, they were meant to enforce rules and order. How could he ever be good at this? He doesn’t have a single clue how to do any of this.

And then there’s the fact that he’s left (Y/N) alone to deal with all of this. Every first has been forever taken from him. First breath, first cry, first word, first steps. Every little thing.

Would she resent him for it? For not being there when it mattered?

So he ran. He came back and he ran.

She doesn’t deserve this and neither does (Y/N). They deserve so much better.

“ It’s time Buck. “ Steve speaks up as he leans against the porch railing next to his oldest friend.

“ Are you still sure about this? “ Bucky asks, not taking his eyes off of his girls. His stomach feels like he’s swallowed a bag of bricks. Life was supposed to be easier after Thanos. This isn’t easy. This is just scary. And sad.

“ That, “ Steve says and nods his head towards (Y/N) and the girl “ that’s your second chance. I gotta take mine. “

Bucky turns to look at his friend trying to figure out what to say next but coming up empty. What do you say to that? Steve deserves to be happy. He deserves to be where his heart always has been. Does it mean Bucky thinks it’s the right choice? Not necessarily. But he understands. Had it been him and (Y/N) he would’ve crossed time and space to be with her.

Which is ironic to think because now all he does is avoid her. Because that’s the coward he is.

“ Alright let’s go. I’ll grab Bruce you do — whatever you gotta do. “

He dares to send one last look towards (Y/N) and this time she’s looking back with a soft eye and a timid little smile on her lips. None of which he is deserving of.

Steve let's go of Sam, parting with one last friendly slap on the back before turning towards Bucky.

Bucky's throat feels dry and rough and while his head is swirling with words he wants to say, none of them really make it past his lips. He's known about Steve's idea for a few days now, has had time to let it settle and come to terms with it. It still breaks his heart but sometimes that's what you do for the people you love. You support them on their path to happiness even if it hurts you in the process.

"I'll miss you," Bucky finally manages to say and he wraps his arm around his friend's shoulder. "You'll always be my brother."

"I know. I'll miss you too. But I know you're in good hands." Steve responds and lets his gaze wander towards the house, no doubt talking about (Y/N) and the kid.

"Promise me something, Buck." He says as he pulls away.

"Anything."

"Talk to (Y/N) and get to know your daughter. She's a Barnes through and through. And she loves you so much, they both do. Let them. Love 'em back."

"Kid doesn't even know me," Bucky murmurs, nervously glancing at the floor.

"What? You really think that? Buck, all we did for the last 5 years was try to keep your memory alive. For us but especially for her. We showed her pictures and videos and (Y/N) told her so many stories. She knows you and she loves you and for the first time in her life, she's living in a world where her dad is alive and present. Go, be with them. You guys need each other."

He's right. Of course, he's right. Steve has this fantastic ability to be right when it matters.

“And don’t do anything stupid until I get back!” Steve adds, making a small smile appear on Bucky’s face.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you. “

They embrace each other one last time before Bucky whispers another “I’ll miss you” and Steve tells him that “It’ll be okay, Buck”.

And then everything happens so fast. One moment he’s living in a world where his best friend is by his side and a minute later all of that has forever changed.

Bucky wipes his eyes with the back of his hand one last time before looking at himself in the mirror. He knew this moment was coming, Steve told him. He had time to come to terms with it and yet it’s a completely different situation now that it’s done. Parting with the only family you’ve ever known breaks your heart in ways you’ve never known are possible.

As he steps out of the bathroom something solid crashes against him and as he looks down, a pair of identical blue eyes stare back at him. He’s not been this close to her since he found out about her, keeping her at a distance. To protect her.

His arm was made to kill how could it ever hold a child and keep it safe?

She stares at him for a moment before a small “Hi” falls from her lips. It’s shy and timid and adorable and all Bucky wants to do is cuddle her to his chest and never let her go.

He doesn’t get the chance though as another little girl rushes past them and calls out to his daughter to follow her which she does.

“Who is that?” Bucky hears Morgan question.

“That’s my daddy, but I don’t think he wants to see me. Mommy says he needs time but —“

He doesn’t hear the rest of her words as the girls round the corner and get swallowed by the sounds of the other guests still mulling around sharing stories about their fallen hero.

But it’s enough. He doesn’t need to hear more. Those words are enough to rip his heart out of his rib cage, crush it up into a million little pieces, and spread it in the winds, never to be able to be put together ever again.

“Hey have you seen — oh Bucky are you okay?”

He doesn’t deserve her tenderness, her kindness, and her care, and yet she still exudes the same love she’s always held for him. Love he was never deserving of from the beginning.

It doesn’t matter at that moment though, who deserves what and who doesn’t. He’s too caught up in the breaking of his own heart. So he falls into her arms as silent tears slowly but surely make their way down his cheeks.

“She thinks I don’t want to see her.”

“Who does?” (Y/N) says as she gently combs her fingers through his long hair.

“My own daughter. “

(Y/N) pulls away slightly, holding onto his shoulders and looking deep into his eyes.

“Are you ready to talk about this now? Ready to stop avoiding me ?”

Bucky only nods and lets her lead him outside past the guests and down to the lake where it’s quiet and serene and life seems to slow down a little. She keeps holding on to his hand, his vibranium one, as they settle on a bench facing each other.

“ I missed you, Bucky.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

He’s been told those words so many times and it’s still hard to believe in them. Even when he knows they’re true. There will always be a hint of doubt since him. Always.

“I don’t — I don’t want her to think I don’t love her. Or want to be with her. I do love her very much. More than I have ever loved another person, including you, and you are my everything. I’m just overwhelmed and — and scared.” He admits. It’s the first time he says those words to anyone but himself. It feels good. It feels right. But it doesn’t take the fear away or the guilt.

“James, she knows you love her. Not a day went by that I didn’t tell her how much her daddy loves her and wants to be with us. And it’s okay to be scared. I was scared and I only had to deal with a baby, not an opinionated 4-year-old. It’s okay to be scared but you can’t let the fear hold you back. You’re the bravest man I know. You laugh in the face of danger. What changed?”

“Stakes are higher this time. What’s losing my life compared to ruining my daughter’s?”

“You’re not gonna ruin anyone’s life, Buck.” (Y/N) exclaims and softly pets the side of his face. She’s always been so gentle with him. Such a contrast to the touches he was used to.

“I don’t know the first thing about being a dad. Mine wasn’t a very good example. I have been trained to kill, to cause pain. My arm is a weapon.”

“Your arm has shielded me from bullets and harm so many times. It’s held me close at night and wipes my tears when I was sad. Your arm is only a weapon if you use it like that. And all the other stuff, that’s not you anymore. You know this. “

He can see the treads now welling in her eyes too and it makes his heart twist and constrict in many painful ways.

“And I left you alone during all of it. Missed the last 4 years of her life and the entire pregnancy. How am I gonna make up for that, for leaving you alone?”

It feels like once he’s started talking he can’t stop. All his fears and worries flow from his lips like tidal waves in an ocean. Crashing against the shore of truth.

“You didn’t leave us Bucky. You were taken from us. We never blamed you for that. I know you wanted to be there. I never doubted that for a second. Look, I had 9 months to come to terms with my fears, you didn’t have any time to face them. I get why you are freaking out but uh — it’s time to step up. You know what makes a good dad? Being there when he can be. Showing he cares. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I can.” Bucky promises and smiles a smile of content. One of hope. His fears and his guilt aren’t gone. But maybe if she believes in him and Steve does, maybe he can be the man and the father he needs to be.

“Good. We really do love you, Buck.”

“As in present tense?”

“Of course. We never stopped. Now can I ask one more thing of you?”

“What’s that?” In the end, it wouldn’t really matter. Whatever she asks he’ll do it. For her, he’ll do anything.

“Can you kiss me? I’ve been waiting for 5 years to finally kiss you again. I can’t hold out much longer. “

He grants her not one kiss, not two. In fact, he loses count as they get lost in many many loving kisses. Maybe, Bucky thinks, soulmates really are a thing. Maybe there are people on this earth meant to find each other. Meant to go through hardships together and still find their way back to one another in the end.

Whatever one chooses to believe in. Bucky is certain she is his person in this life and the next and through whatever might come their way.

He’s sitting on the big red couch in (Y/N)’s apartment, nervously fumbling with the tassels on one of the throw pillows as his eyes wander around the room. There are so many pictures, hung on the walls and placed on side tables and shelves. His child’s entire life up to now, caught on film for him to relive if only in his mind.

There are pictures of him too. One of him and Steve in the 40s, laughing and leaning against each other in support. (Y/N) always said it was one of her favorites. “You’re so happy in it. That’s how happy I want you to be all the time.” She’s told him once.

Next to a picture of (Y/N) and their daughter is a picture of him. He’s sure it’s placed there deliberately. To remind everyone he is a part of this family, even when he wasn’t there.

He is here now though. The next picture put up will be one of all three of them.

The front door opens and a melody of voices echoes through the place. (Y/N)’s laughter and the sweet giggle of his little girl. It’s his favorite sound in the world, he decided then and there. Nothing will ever compare.

The girl rushes into the room then comes to an abrupt stop in front of him.

“Hi,” she says in the same small voice as she did at the Stark’s house. Only this time Bucky doesn’t just stand and stare at her, unable to move or speak.

This time he holds out his arms and speaks up.

“Hi, I — I'm sorry it has taken me so long. I don’t know what I was thinking. I love you, Darling. Can I hug you?”

She doesn’t say yes or no, doesn’t glance at his vibranium arm with hesitance of fear. She falls right into him, wrapping her little arms around his neck and cuddling into his chest. It feels like this is where she belongs, like this is where she was always meant to be. Like his arms were made to hold her and never let go. And maybe, Bucky thinks, maybe they were.

“I love you too, daddy.”

He liked being a sergeant. It’s a title that has always filled him with pride. It has nothing on the title of being a dad. That one means so much more. Fills him with a pride and love he’s never previously known.

For the next few moments, he gets lost in the feeling of holding his child. A perfect little girl who is part of him. The good. Only the good. It all comes together in her. No nightmares or guilt or fears. Only love. So much love. He holds her close to his heart, wishing he could’ve done this when she was just a baby. Feel her heart beat in rhythm with his. He places little kisses up and down her small face. On her chubby little cheeks and her cute bottom nose, making her scrunch it up and let out soft giggles.

It’s strange to be the man he is and act so gently with another human being. But it feels so right.

His eyes find (Y/N)’s across the room, filled with tears though this time they are happy ones. With an outreached hand he beckons her over and pulls her onto the couch and into the hug.

This is right. Nothing has ever felt this real. This happy. This perfect.

His girls cuddle into him with nothing but love filling their hearts. This is the life he wants, the one he has always wanted. The life he fought for. The life he will never stop fighting for.

Steve was wrong. They aren’t his second chance.

They’re his only chance.

His destiny.

His family.

His home.

TAGLIST:  @stayherefor-evermore  - @booksb4looksstuff​ - @captainofallfandoms - @charmed-asylum​

[theladyofdeath]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 12}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby's blogs! >> @snelbz​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

* In case you missed the announcement - we will now be posting chapters 3 days a week! Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. We hope you continue to enjoy the story! 

** Trigger warning: Miscarriage. 

This chapter is legit a roller coaster, ngl. Enjoy. ;)

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Nesta stood in the living room of Elain’s house with Nyx on her hip, feeling guilty for dropping Nyx off for the night even though Elain was the one to offer. 

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Gives these little cousins some bonding time.” She reached out and took Nyx’s chubby little hand. “Besides, you and Cassian both need time to recoup.”

She wasn’t about to deny that. It had been a week since her not-date with Balthazar, a week since she and Cassian had uttered more than passing comments on how Nyx had acted throughout the day to each other.

Every time she looked at him, she found him already watching her and the fact got under her skin.

It became an unspoken thing that whenever she cooked dinner, she would make an extra helping and put it in the fridge for him. Not because she felt like she needed to, but because it made her feel better about their awkward arrangement. The longer time went on, the more she realized that as much as she’d been acting like taking care of Nyx together was a death sentence to her social life, he was going through the same thing.

And when she got home, she planned on making dinner for the two of them to share together. A sort of white flag of truce between them.

It was the least she could do. “Call me the second something happens-.”

“We’ll be fine,” Elain said, taking Nyx from Nesta and kissing her sister’s cheek. “Now, go. Relax. Take a bubble bath with some wine or something. Read one of those filthy books you used to hide in your closet.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed.

Elain’s smile widened.

After a tough goodbye, Nesta was heading toward her car and driving back home, making a quick stop at the grocery store just around the corner.

She quickly got all of her fixins, prepared to make one of her favorites - salmon, rice, and green beans. A glance at the calendar that morning told her he would probably be home around five, which gave her just under two hours to make dinner. Easily doable, she’d made three-course meals in less time, for much harsher customers.

Yet she couldn’t figure out why her stomach was in knots.

*

When Cassian came home, he opened the front door and froze. The quiet in the house unnerved him. Usually, there was some random white noise to fill the house, whether that was the television or one of Nyx’s inane toys that distracted him so well. But as he walked through the house, the TV wasn’t on and he couldn’t hear much of anything.

Until he heard a throat clear from the kitchen.

Instantly, Cassian was on alert, not liking the sound at all, recognizing who it had belonged to, but silently, he made his way into the kitchen.

Nesta was sitting at the table, a plate of food in front of her, with an identical one at the spot he typically sat in.

“What’s…going on?” He asked, slowly taking another few steps into the kitchen.

Nesta stood and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, before taking it back over to where he hovered between the table and the doorway. She held the cold bottle out to him. “This is a truce.”

“A tru-?” He took it, but shook his head, not quite understanding her. “Where’s Nyx?”

“He is having a sleepover with Seph, Elain and Azriel. Elain wanted us to have a night off,” she said, sitting back down at her seat. “So I made us dinner.”

“You made us dinner?” he repeated, staring at the plates. “For the two of us to have? Together? At the same table?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, unless you don’t want it.”

Cassian cleared his throat as he pulled the chair out across from her and popped open his beer. “I won’t turn down free food. Especially when it’s made by an expert.” 

Nesta said nothing more as she cut into her salmon. “An expert?”

“You get paid for cooking,” Cassian said, picking up his fork and collecting a pile of green beans. “That makes you an expert. A professional.”

“This is a lot of compliments,” she said, watching him carefully as he ate.

“Maybe I’m jumping on board with this whole truce thing,” he said, mouth full of food.

Nesta wanted to chastise him about his manners, but bit her tongue. “You weren’t on board with it to begin with?”

He chewed slowly and then set his fork down. “Neither of us have…handled this very well,” he admitted, taking a drink from his beer. “And I’m willing to take a portion of the blame, but not all of it.”

Nesta weighed his words carefully. They were blunt, but not untrue. Sure, he’d acted like an ass many times, but she had only responded in kind. She knew she could be a bitch, and she knew she did it well. Sometimes too well.

“For this to be an official truce,” she began, holding her wine glass in her hand, swirling it once, twice, “there has to be terms we both agree on.” His eyebrows raised, but she pressed on before he could speak. “Mine are that we have to communicate. When you get frustrated or pissed at me, you can’t just bottle everything up until it all explodes. And when I get overwhelmed, I promise not to snap at you or act like such a…”

“A bitch?” He provided, when she stumbled over her words, smiling around the beer bottle pressed to his lips.

She wasn’t able to stop the smile growing on her own face, as she said, “Thank you, asshole. But yes. Those are my terms.”

He took a drink and nodded. “Okay. I think I can handle those.”

“And what are your terms?” She asked, cutting into the flaky fish for another bite.

He was quiet for a moment, debating. Nesta took a sip from her wine glass while she waited, watching as thought after thought passed across his face.

“I want to get to know you,” he said, finally. “I want to know who you are and I want you to know me.”

Nesta cocked her head to the side. It was a simple request, but Nesta wasn’t exactly good at allowing people to get to know rher. “And how do you suppose we do that?”

“A simple conversation will do,” he said, shrugging. “Over salmon and alcohol. Mostly alcohol.” He reached across the small table and picked up her wine bottle, filling up her wine glass to the brim. 

“Getting me drunk so that I open up?” Nesta asked, sipping from that wine glass.

Cassian chuckled. “I would never.”

She watched her for a second, before taking another larger drink and setting it down. “Fine. Then it’s a truce.” He smirked, glancing over the table between them and then leaned over to look on the counter. “What?”

“I’m just looking for an official notice.” His smirk grew into an all out grin. “Something to sign. I figured you’d called up Tarquin and had some official documents written up.”

“You think you’re so funny.” She rolled her eyes and he chuckled, reaching an open hand across the table.

“Truce,” he said, taking her hand in his. They shook once, and Cassian was struck by how much smaller her hand was than his, yet by how firm her grip was. It was an impressive, professional handshake.

“So what do you want to know?” She asked, scooping some rice onto her fork and getting a bite of fish to go along with it.

His eyes narrowed as he thought about it and she began to wonder whether they should have laid down some boundaries. But he asked, “You went to the University of Velaris, right? What did you study there?”

Nesta blinked in surprise, not having expected the question. “Business and marketing.”

Chewing slowly, Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Nothing culinary?”

She shook her head. “No, I liked cooking, but I never thought it would become my career. I majored in business and marketing, with a minor in communications.”

“That sounds…” He fought for the words for a second. “Boring.”

Taking a drink of her wine, Nesta chuckled. “Oh, it was,” she admitted. “The longest four years of my life, but I’ve got the pretty, little diploma with my name written on it to show for them.”

“And how did you learn about food? How to cook?”

She shrugged. “I taught myself. I graduated college and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I got a data entry job at a marketing firm and spent my free time in the kitchen, trying and testing and tasting.” She paused, and her eyes fell to her plate. “Before my dad died, he listened to my idea about starting a small restaurant, with a few of my favorite recipes on the menu. He left me the money to do it in his will.”

“And now?” he pressed, although his voice held a certain gentleness. “Are you successful and thriving?”

Nesta snorted. “I make enough to live and pay the few of servers I have. If that’s successful, then I suppose.”

Cassian nodded in appreciation. “I’d say it is. What about the future? Bigger restaurant? Multiple restaurants?” 

“Someday,” Nesta said, with a longing in her voice. “And what about you? And your guitars? Surely you don’t want to be a bartender forever.”

Cassian shrugged. “I don’t mind the bartending. Good tips and I meet a lot of interesting people.”

“But?” Nesta asked. 

“But,” Cassian repeated, huffing a laugh. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t exactly say that managing a bar is my passion.” 

“So, guitars then?” Nesta asked, brow raised. “You’re really talented. Your guitars are beautiful.”

Cassian’s eyes shot to hers, wide as he slowly set down his fork. “Holy shit, did you just compliment me?”

Nesta’s lips pursed as she kicked his shin under the table.

“I’ve always been good with my hands. Not like that,” he said, pointing at her when he saw the smirk growing. “I mean, creating things, playing instruments, even something as mundane as making drinks. If it’s something I can do with my hands, I typically love it and nine times out of ten, I’m good at it.” There was none of the cockiness she’d come to know in his voice. Just pure explanation, and a bit of devotion. “I’ve tried my hand at making furniture and little knickknacks, but there’s nothing that compares to building an instrument from scratch.”

“And you do it all? Yourself?” She asked, taking another bite.

He nodded. “I start with a few rough pieces of wood. Sand it, stain it, and boom, brand new guitar.”

Snorting, she lifted her wine glass to her lips. “I think you may have missed a few steps in there.”

“Well, I didn’t want to bore you,” he chuckled.

“How long have you been playing guitar?” Nesta asked, finishing off the last of her food.

Cassian took a minute to think about it, then shrugged, finishing off his beer. “As long as I can remember. I grew up with my mom in Illyria. They live simply up there. Music is…a way of life. It grew on me quickly. Mom bought me my first guitar that a friend of hers had made before I could even walk.”

Nesta chuckled, quietly. “Just like you did for Nyx.”

Cassian nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Another drink?” he asked, nodding toward her emptied glass.

“Sure,” she said. “But, wine is gone. I think there’s some tequila in the cabinet.”

Cassian lifted a brow as he rose. “Tequila?”

Nesta grinned as he went to the cabinet. “Make me a drink, bartender?”

Cassian laughed as he grabbed the glass bottle from the cabinet. “I can. What’ll it be? Tequila sunrise? Margarita? Pretty sure we have some lime juice, somewhere.”

“I’m not picky,” Nesta promised.

She heard him laugh. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that, Archeron.”

“Only where it counts,” she replied, smiling at him. She picked up their empty plates and rinsed them off, loading them into the dishwasher. Turning, she found him setting a shot glass with salt on the rim down on the counter. She chuckled. “That’s not what I asked for.”

“First of all, you technically didn’t ask for anything in particular,” he said, pointing at her as he crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Secondly, this is the most classic drink I can make you with tequila. It’s the oldest recipe in the books.”

She outright laughed. “That’s cause it’s just straight tequila.”

“Exactly,” he grinned and damn it, if her heart didn’t skip a beat. “I lied, no lime juice.”

“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “But if I’m doing sloppy shots, you’re joining me.”

“Oh, I never say no to shots,” he said, grabbing another from the cabinet. 

He filled them up, and slid one to Nesta, who took the glass in her hand and held it up.

Cassian clinked his against hers, and they tossed them back. 

Nesta’s face didn’t change a bit, and Cassian met her steady eyes. “Impressive.” 

“Not my first tequila shot, Nazari,” she said, hopping up to sit on the counter. “What else do you want to ask me?”

He leaned down on the countertop, letting his arms lay flat. “Hmm.” He let his fingers drum quietly. “What did you want to be when you grew up? Or was it always a chef?”

She scrunched up her nose. “I was convinced I was going to be a doctor, I wanted to help people. But then I found out how many years of school was required to be a doctor. So I decided I wanted to be a nurse.”

Cassian carefully poured a couple more shots. “And what happened to that dream?”

“I found out that the sight of blood makes me queasy. Sometimes I throw up, sometimes I pass out.”

He laughed. “That seems like enough to throw off a career plan.”

“Yep,” she admitted, picking her wine glass up.

Cassian filled up the shot glasses, once more, and slid hers back to her. She set down her wine glass and snorted as she tossed it back.

“You know what we should do?” Nesta asked, and Cassian lifted a brow in question. “Go for a swim. We’ve been here over a month and have yet to use the pool that I’ve been cleaning, daily.”

Cassian took his shot before watching her, closely. “Last one in has to share their deepest, darkest secret.”

Nesta scoffed. “What are we, children?”

Cassian grinned as he pushed himself back from the counter. “Scared of a little competition? Afraid to lose?”

They stared at each other in silence for a minute before Nesta jumped off the counter, and ran up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit.

Cassian and his heavy footsteps were close behind.

It took her a few minutes to remember where her swimsuits had been packed, and from the slamming of drawers down the hall, it seemed Cassian was in a similar predicament. She finally found a two piece stuffed in the back of her underwear drawer, not exactly what she had been looking for, and hesitated before stripping down and pulling the bottoms on. Nesta was out her bedroom door before she even had the top fully tied, pulling it into a hastily tied bow behind her back. Her feet carried her as she flew down the stairs, but she froze when she opened the sliding glass door and found him already in the water.

He grinned from where he had his muscular arms resting on the side of the pool, and his hair was soaked, pushed back off of his face. With the wide smile on his face, he looked so much younger, almost boyish.

With a sigh, Nesta turned and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing a couple beers in each hand and made her way back onto the lit up patio.

“I win,” he said, smirking up at her.

The tongue she stuck out at him wasn’t her most quick witted response, but she was trying not to let her eyes drift beneath the water. When she suggested the pool, she hadn’t been thinking of how much skin would be on display, for either of them.

“That’s because you only had one piece to put on,” Nesta said, sitting near him by the edge and handing him a drink.

“Hey, if you only wanted to put on one of those pieces, I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he protested, and Nesta had to hide the way his suggestive tone, those words, made her blush. 

He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he popped open his beer and took a long, slow drink.

“So how about that secret?” He asked, voice lowering. 

“Hmmm,” she crooned, tapping her chin. “Which to share when I have so many to choose from?”

Cassian chuckled. “You would have an endless string of secrets. Come on, what skeletons are in your closet? Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

Nesta had a lot of those, too. She wasn’t exactly the “open” type.

There was one true secret she kept though. One that no one else had known, not even Feyre or Elain. Just her and…

She hesitated and he looked up at her, caught the look on her face. “What?”

Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t want to kill the mood.”

The hand holding the bottle was right next to her thigh, and he let his pinky skim over her skin. “That kind of secret, huh?”

She gnawed into her lip, nodding.

“I’ll tell you mine, if it helps,” Cassian said, looking up into her face.

She slipped into the pool, thankful the water was warm, and shook her head. “That wasn’t our agreement.”

He stayed quiet, letting her process her own thoughts.

Sinking beneath the water, Nesta re-emerged, slicking her hair back. After a steadying breath, she said, “I’m sure you remember Tomas, my ex who interrupted our date?”

The mention of their date surprised Cassian, after so many weeks of them dancing around it. He nodded.

“We were together for a long time, you know? All through college.” She wasn’t looking at him, wouldn’t meet his eye. “I got pregnant just after our senior year. I had never wanted kids, you know? Wasn't the family type, at all. Never saw myself having a family. Anyway,” she continued, shaking her head. “It didn’t matter. I miscarried.”

Cassian continued to look at her, continued to watch as she stared blankly ahead. 

“I got excited about it, too, which is ridiculous,” she went on. “For a moment, for those few weeks that I thought Tomas and I would be starting a family… I actually got excited.”

“How far along were you?” He asked, gently.

She answered immediately, with no hesitation. “Thirteen weeks. It was like one day I was pregnant, carrying our child and the next… The baby was gone.” She was quiet for a moment. “I woke up one morning and there was blood, so much blood. Tom was already at work, so I drove myself to the hospital, but there was nothing they could do.”

Cassian recognized the slow blinking, knew she was reliving those slow, sad moments again.

“I was dying inside, trying to come to terms with the fact that our baby was gone, and Tomas got home and-.” She took a deep breath and looked over at him. “He asked what I was making for dinner. He didn’t even acknowledge that our child was gone and… l guess that’s when I decided to do the same. To pretend nothing happened. We didn’t really talk much about it. We never told our families, I never told Feyre or Elain. Our father died about a month later and it all seemed so insignificant at that point. But Tom and I never recovered, our relationship at least. We broke up a few months later and…” Nesta shrugged. “Life kept going. I decided to open my restaurant and never looked back.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassian said, quietly.

She finally looked at him and shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it any less painful of a memory,” he countered.

She just nodded. “It’s how it was supposed to be though, right? Wasn't meant to be.”

Cassian took another drink as he nodded, slowly.

“Anyway,” she began, clearing her throat before dunking herself back down under the water.

“Would you like my secret?” He asked, when she turned and rested her arms on the edge of the pool.

She shrugged. “If you feel so inclined. You didn’t lose the bet.”

He leaned back, letting his arms drape across the edge of the pool as well. “When I was eighteen, I broke my back. I decided to take a year off before I started school, and was working construction over the summer to save money. I wanted to travel for a while. But then I took a bad fall off a roof. I spent two weeks in the hospital and then was stuck in my bed for another ten. And Rhys and Az stayed by my side the whole time. They put off their last hoorah vacations before they went off to college to stay with me.”

Nesta’s eyes drifted to Cassian, drops falling from her lashes. “Doesn’t seem like a secret if people know about it.” 

“You didn’t know,” he shot back.

Nesta smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Fair. That sounds awful.”

“It was,” he agreed. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I don’t like to stay still for very long.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Nesta said, a little spark returning to her eye. “It was torture,” he followed, finishing off his drink. “Not being able to move. I played so many damn board games that I never want to look at one ever again.”

“Even if Nyx asks?” Nesta inquired.

Cassian gave her a lopsided grin. “Well, he’s the exception.” Nesta laughed, and Cassian shook his head. “I’d do anything for that kid. I think Rhys knew that, when he named me godfather.”

She understood that, related to it completely. Especially considering they had been named godparents together, regardless of their mutual distaste for the other. Their love for Nyx, for Rhys and Feyre, had been evident to everyone.

“I miss him,” she admitted, resting her cheek on the concrete. “I know it’s only one night, and I’m beyond appreciative, but… It’s weird not having him right inside.”

He nodded. “I get it. I do, too. I know Az and Elain can take care of him, and I’m sure he had a blast with Seph before they went to bed, but it hasn’t stopped me worrying about him.”

Nesta nodded, stretching her back. She took a drink from her beer. “Did you ever want kids of your own?”

He blew out a harsh breath and drained his own bottle before answering. “I never really considered it much, when I was younger. After my back healed, I was so focused on getting back to life that relationships and dating weren’t high on my priority list-.”

“But fucking was?” Nesta asked, smirking.

He rolled his eyes, nudging her slightly with a shoulder. “Maybe I was interested in sex more than relationships, I’ll admit. But before I knew it, my early twenties had come and gone. Everyone I knew was getting married and had babies on the way and… I was still the one living the bachelor life and decided to just run with it.”

“I get that,” Nesta agreed. “After…everything that happened with Tomas, I never wanted that again. My date with you and my date with Balthazar are the only two proper dates I’ve been on since college.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “And have you been on any improper dates?”

Nesta didn’t answer. Instead, her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as she finished off her beer.

Cassian’s grin widened. “I never knew you were such a freak, Archeron.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she muttered, which just made him laugh harder. 

“I must admit, it’s nice to hear you talking about our infamous date so often tonight,” Cassian said, pulling himself out of the pool.

Nesta couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles flexed, how the drops of water streamed down his back, between his shoulders, down to his waistline and the swim trunks, which rode low on his hips. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t say anything nice about that date, did I?”

“Absolutely not, but is there really anything nice to say?” he asked, sliding the screen door open. “I mean, you were an absolute nightmare.”

She gawked after him as he went inside, and once he came back with a small pyramid of beer cans, Nesta said, “I was a nightmare? You were a complete disaster!”

He scoffed, setting the cans down and cannon balling back into the pool. Even though she was already in the water, Nesta couldn’t help the squeal that left her. Cassian was grinning when he came up for air. “I forgot my wallet. I fully intended to pay you back, both monetarily and with the best sex you’d ever had in your life, but you decided to get huffy, stomp back to your front door and slam it in my face.”

“Oh, please,” Nesta said, reaching for a can and popping it’s top. Foam erupted from the opening and she put her mouth to it before it could drip into the pool. “You were over twenty minutes late, you wore work boots and a leather jacket to the nicest restaurant in Velaris, and we ran into your fuck buddy.” She drank deeply from the can, emptying it in one go. “As for the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, I’ve become very accustomed to and am just fine with my own hand, so you’re going to have to try pretty hard to do better than I myself can.”

She wiggled her fingers in his face and before she could register what was happening, his hand was wrapped around her own. As if he didn’t already know that. Cassian had caught her getting herself off in the bathtub, a memory that was seared into both of their heads. He tugged her closer and the empty can fell from her hands, floating on top of the water.

“I was talking about the past, sweetheart, but you seem to be talking about the present,” he breathed as her chest brushed against his own. “Who says my offer still stands all these years later?”

“You’d be a fool not to make that offer,” she breathed, and she knew the scent of beer was all he was breathing in. 

“And would you accept it if I were?” he asked, one hand still wrapped around hers, the other snaking its way around her waist. “Still offering?” 

Nesta’s breath hitched as their mouths grew so close, too close, close enough to reach out and taste his lips with a brush of her tongue.

It was tempting.

It would be stupid. Alcohol fogging her brain or not, Nesta knew it would be stupid.

But it was tempting, and in that moment, there were very few things Nesta could think about other than his hands against her skin, his lips a breadth width away from her own, and his cock she could very prominently feel twitching against her thigh. 

Nesta’s lips brushed softly against his as she said, “Try and find out.” 

[sugawaraxo]

safe place

warnings: reader comes from an abusive household. will include both physical and verbal abuse.

characters: tadashi yamaguchi, satori tendou, tobio kageyama, tetsuro kuroo

request: hii!! can i request scenarios with yamaguchi, tendou, kageyama, kuroo (and maybe akaashi 🥺👉👈) with a crush on a girl who comes from an abusive household and how they would confess/help her? thank you sm🥺💗

an: i’ve been writing so much smut lately that writing fluff felt weird bahaha, but i hope you enjoy it! :)

yamaguchi

- there has been a dramatic shift in your personality since tadashi first met you

- and he notices it instantly

- though you pretend to be, you’re no longer the cheerful and bubbly y/n you once were

- and yamaguchi hates seeing you this way 

- so he debates whether he should bring it up for a long while, not knowing exactly what to say

- but when you show up to his house one day, shaking harshly with tears pooling down your face

- he knows something’s terribly wrong

“hi y/n.” tadashi says with a big grin as finally he opens his front door after hearing his doorbell ring a couple times. that smile quickly drops and forms into an expression rich with concern. his eyebrows furrow and his eyes widen as he takes in your appearance. you’re shaking violently and breathing heavily. your eyes are bloodshot from all of the tears that are quickly rushing down your face, dripping silently onto the concrete of yamaguchi’s front step as you avoid eye contact with him. you’re not quite sure why, but you’re embarrassed about crying in front of him. so your eyes stay locked on the bland grey of the concrete ground beneath you as you wait for tadashi to say something. 

“c-come in. it’s super cold, you can tell me what’s wrong inside.” he says sweetly, reaching out a hand for you to grab. he leads you into the kitchen, watching as you take a seat on the counter. then he grabs a kettle from the stove, pouring you a cup of tea with the water he was boiling before you had shown up on his doorstep. you two remain silent as he does so, neither of you being quite sure of what to say in this moment. so you let the stale silence consume you, only the delicate sounds of yamaguchi pouring the cups of tea filling your ears. once he’s done preparing your tea the way he knows you like it, he walks over to your spot on the counter and hands you the mug.

“careful, it’s really hot.” he informs and you smile softly at his concern. you take a small sip of the tea after blowing it to cool it a bit, sighing at how warm it makes you feel. tadashi always makes it so perfectly for you and you can’t help but feel extremely safe in this moment as he stands next to you silently, though his eyes are asking for an explanation. 

“my mom yelled at me again, but it was worse this time.” you sigh, tears starting to sting your eyes again at the recollection of your previous screaming match with your mother. 

“about what this time?” yamaguchi asks, locking his eyes with yours. his demeanor is soft but his gaze is harsh and you can tell he’s upset that this is happening again. 

“all i did is forget to wash the dishes and it led to her screaming at me that i’m a lazy, good for nothing piece of shit who leeches off of her for food and shelter. basically the usual spiel of how i’m useless and just take up space. how she wishes she never had me because then she’d have one less problem to worry about.” you explain, attempting to choke back the sob forming in your throat. you don’t notice since your eyes are focused on the mug in your hands, but yamaguchi’s own orbs are brimmed with tears. he sets his mug down on the counter beside you and moves between your legs so that he could be as close to you as possible.

“hey, look at me.” he says, but you refuse. you hate having him see you like this. it’s only happened once before and you swore it wouldn’t happen again but here you are, sitting on his kitchen counter while forcing yourself not to break down in front of him. after you disregard his request, he takes matters into his own hands. 

he cups the sides of your face timidly with both of his hands, them still being warm from holding his mug. he lifts your head so that your eyes meet his and you feel your heart flutter a bit. you notice the tears that have yet to leave his eyes, resting there but threatening to spill over at any second. instinctively, you reach up to wipe the tears away as you see them finally fall and he smiles a weak smile at you.

“you’re not useless y/n.” he starts “you are so, so special whether your mom sees that or not. i truly hate that she doesn’t. because if she could even just see a fraction of the most mesmerizing sides of you that i get to see everyday, maybe she would change. or maybe she wouldn’t. despite what she thinks, i know how genuine and kind you are. i know how beautiful and selfless you are. you’re far from good for nothing, i hope you know that. and if you don’t, i’m more than willing to help you realize just how incredible you really are, because i love you. i love you a lot y/n, and i hate seeing you so upset. so i’ll do whatever i can to make it better. i promise.” yamaguchi confesses. tears are streaming down both of your faces at this point. this is everything you need to hear right now and then some, and you feel completely at ease with yamaguchi’s words.

“i love you too tadashi, thank you so much. god, i love you.” you coo before lightly grasping the back of his head and pulling him down for a kiss. your action catches him off guard at first, so he’s a bit timid in terms of kissing you back, but after a few seconds he catches the rhythm and kisses you softly.

“you can stay here if you want, for as long as you need.” he offers, giving you a shy smile.

“i’d love that.” you smile back. 

tendou

- you and tendou have a very playful friendship

- always play fighting or teasing each other and whatnot

- the typical ‘we like each other and everyone around us knows we like each other but we’re completely oblivious so we don’t know we like each other’ type friendship 

- one day the two of you are at tendou’s house at the kitchen table “studying” (which really means “fighting”) as per usual

- tendou playfully hits you very lightly, not even a toddler would have been fazed by the slight shove

- but you wince roughly at the touch

- and tendou gets suspicious

“i barely even touched you, what’s up?” tendou asks for what seems to you like the billionth time. 

“it’s nothing, i was messing around. just drop it.” you huff, growing annoyed at tendou’s persistence in finding out what the issue is.

“the look on your face was clearly not a joke y/n, tell me why it hurt so bad? what aren’t you telling me?” tendou pushes and you’ve just about reached your limit.

“i said it’s nothing so just please stop fucking asking, ok?” you snap, though in the process you lift your arms to cover your face in aggravation. the motion raises your shirt a bit, allowing tendou to catch a glimpse of the huge dark purple bruise spread across your ribs.

“y/n. what the hell happened? that looks terrible.” tendou whispers, the shock of what he has just seen revoking his ability to speak out loud. you catch his gaze locked on your stomach and quickly remove your hands from your face, not even realizing that the movement had lifted your shirt. your face flushes to a sickly shade, all life leaving your body as you realize you can’t lie your way out of this anymore. you have never in your life had someone look at you with as much concern as tendou is now looking at you with, his eyes scanning your face dumbfoundedly as he anticipates your answer to his question. you sigh heavily, mentally preparing yourself for the draining information you’re about to tell.

“well um. i got into a disagreement with my dad.” is all you can manage to get out. you planned on explaining more, but just bringing it up makes your stomach curdle with fear and you feel as though you’re about to vomit. tendou notices and rests a comforting hand on your thigh, rubbing it in small gentle motions.

“he hit you?” tendou asks softly, trying to better grasp the situation.

“well he was drunk and i had an attitude with him, so he got a little worked up and ended up pushing me over. i fell and hit my side on the kitchen table on my way down. but it was just an accident, it’s ok. i made him upset and he pushed me. i just lost my balance is all. it’s not his fault.” you find yourself trying to defend your father and you don’t even know why. you know him pushing you wasn’t an accident. you falling and hitting the table was, but that doesn’t diminish the fact that your father just grunted at you as he watched you sob on the floor in agonizing pain before going back to his previous spot on the couch and finishing off his glass of whiskey. but you don’t want to tell tendou that. 

“y/n no, that’s not ok.” tendou’s voice breaks and your heart breaks with it. “accident or not, no man should be putting their hands on you like that. better yet, your own father. is this the first time he’s done something like this?” tendou asks, attempting to keep his voice steady but failing.

you shake your head no and tendou sighs, shaking his head in dismay. 

“i need to get you out of that house y/n. i’ll figure something out.”

“no satori, it’s fine. i’m fine. i can hold my own.” you argue.

“i’m not denying that you can, but i’d feel like the most terrible human being on earth if i let you go back there and something else ends up happening to you. so you’re staying here. my parents and i will figure out a way to take care of any legal actions that need to be made, but until then you are staying here and i will not let you argue with that.” tendou states firmly. although his words are firm, you can see in his eyes that he’s hurting for you. you couldn’t argue with him even if you wanted and luckily, you don’t want to. 

“thank you tendou, that means more to me than you’ll ever know.” you say.

“you don’t need to thank me, i care about you too much to see you get hurt. i want you right here with me so i can know you’re ok.” he says, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. you melt at his sweet gesture, and suddenly feel like everything will actually be ok. 

kageyama

- kageyama is very attentive and tends to notice things about you that the typical outside viewer wouldn’t pick up on

- like the way you’ve been spacing out whenever he speaks to you

- or the way you flinch whenever someone slightly raises their voice around you

- the way your eyes look tired and lifeless lately, despite the huge smile you may be carrying on your face

- he has a hunch that he knows what’s going on, so he pulls you aside after his practice that you sat and watched while doing homework to talk 

“hey y/n, can i talk to you for a second?” kageyama asks as he walks to your spot in the stands. you frown up at him, not really sure what he would want to talk about, but you shrug with a quick ‘sure’ and let him lead you behind the gym. you frown again because this is where he takes you whenever he has something serious to tell you, or when either of you are having a really bad day and need to express your emotions in private.

“what’s up?” you ask curiously, searching his eyes for any sort of hint of what he’s about to say.

“that’s sort of what i want to ask you. what’s up with you lately? i mean, you’ve been pretty good at hiding it, but i can tell something’s going on with you and it’s not good. i just wanna make sure you’re ok.” he says softly. you contemplate telling him what’s been going on at home, his gentle expression seems so caring and genuine. it’s difficult for you not to just open up to him and let him in. but you’re scared of what he might think or how he may react, so you bow your head down to avoid eye contact and mutter,

“it’s nothing really. school has just been a bit stressful is all.”

“you’re lying.”

“what?” you ask, lifting your head to meet his gaze once more. to you, your performance was believable. but kageyama’s been your best friend for the past two years now so he’s become somewhat of a master in knowing whether you’re being honest with him or not.

“you’re lying. what’s really going on?” he asks. he’s looking down at you with his deep blue eyes drowning in concern. you can tell he won’t let you leave without hearing the genuine truth, so you decide it’s for the best not to lie anymore.

“my mom hit me the other day and we haven’t really talked since.” you explain sadly, tilting your head down again. kageyama sighs at your confession because his hunch is correct, and he hates that it is. “we were arguing as usual, but this time she umm, she got a bit too carried away.” you continue. kageyama physically feels his heart break for you. he’s always known how terrible your relationship with your mother was from his first few weeks of knowing you. you would constantly tell him all the awful words she spewed at you in the heat of your arguments, and he was always there to comfort and reassure you afterwards. but it was always verbal, never physical so he wasn’t quite sure if him stepping in to try and help would do any good or just make matters worse. but hearing that it’s now escalated to physical harm makes his stomach ache.

“i’m so sorry y/n, i should’ve helped when i first heard about how she was speaking to you. that should’ve been my first sign that something like this would happen. i feel terrible for not doing anything.” he let’s out, his head now bowing along with yours.

“hey.” you say in an almost whisper, lifting his head up by placing your finger underneath his chin. his tear glistened eyes meet yours and you can feel the guilt radiating from his body which makes your heart shatter. “none of this is any of your fault. you did help me, ok? you’re the only person i’ve ever even told any of this to and you have always been there to comfort me when i do. you’ll never realize how much that means to me tobio. i appreciate you so much.” you explain.

his eyes jump back and forth between yours as he absorbs everything you just said. then his eyes glance down to your lips and linger there for a moment. yours do the same to his, both of you mentally questioning whether or not you should just go for it. eventually the pressure of the moment pushes you two together and your lips graze tenderly. kageyama’s hands find their place on your hips as your arms wrap behind his neck instinctively. the kiss is sweet and filled with so many emotions. most importantly, it’s filled with love. a kiss that you both have been craving for so long yet never had the guts to pursue. and finally, you’re able to give in. after a few moments you pull away, flushed and flustered a bit yet completely content.

“you can stay at my place tonight. we can figure out how everything will play out once we get there.” kageyama says as more of a question than a statement. you just smile and kiss him again in response.

you’re slightly worried about what the future holds, but having kageyama by your side will forever ease your nerves.

kuroo

- though kuroo can be a bit of a tease sometimes, he’s also immensely caring for those that he loves

- you being one of the people that he loves beyond words

- though he hasn’t confessed it yet

- means he’s very protective of you and would do anything to keep you from getting hurt 

- he’s always been your rock, and you his 

- so when he finds out that your parents have been emotionally damaging you

- he gets fairly upset

“jesus, i look so disgusting.” you say in what you think is a joking manner while looking at yourself in kuroo’s closet mirror. but the way kuroo’s head snaps up from his phone to give you a glare, you can tell he didn’t take it as a joke. 

“why are you always talking about yourself like that?” he frowns.

“like what?” you respond dumbly, knowing exactly what he means but really not wanting to embark on your trauma right now.

“you’re always referring to yourself as if you’re the grossest thing in existence and it hurts me to hear you say those things. is there a reason why you feel like that?” he asks, sitting up straighter on the bed to get a better view of you in the mirror. you sigh and turn to face him, walking over to his bed and sitting on the edge of it. 

“yeah, i guess there is a reason.” you admit, looking down at your hands as you fidget with them.

“well, what’s the reason?” kuroo asks. you look up at him nervously. you told yourself that this is something you would always keep to yourself because you don’t want to bombard others with your issues. but there’s something about kuroo that makes it immensely difficult not to just tell him everything. maybe it’s the way he fully listens to you whenever you have something to say. it’s like nothing and no one else around him matters but you and whatever you have to tell him. he always makes you feel heard and validated. important. something you never get at home. 

“it’s just my parents i guess. no matter what i do, i’m never good enough for them. i’m always trying so hard to impress them, make them happy. but all i get in return is being yelled at and told how much of a disappointment i am. do you know how hard that is? being the best version of yourself that you can possibly be and still not being enough for the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally? it hurts so bad kuroo, and it makes me feel like i’m nothing. so that’s why i’m always talking about myself like that. because it’s how i see myself, as nothing.” you tear up. hot tears begin rolling down your face uncontrollably as soft sobs leave your body. kuroo completely softens at your words, moving closer to you so he can wipe your tears with the pad of his thumb. he pulls you closer to him, your head tucked into his chest while his large arms suffocate you in his warm embrace. 

“i’m so sorry y/n. words can be so damaging, especially coming from your own parents and i really wish you didn’t have to go through that. because now you don’t even see yourself the way you should see yourself. the way i see you.” kuroo says, trailing off a bit on the last line. “i think you are the most captivating person i have ever met and probably ever will meet. every time i’m around you i just can’t help but feel this sharp pang in my heart which i can only assume is love. because i feel it when you’re gone too. you’re unbelievably amazing y/n, and insanely beautiful too. please don’t let your parents destroy that for you, although i don’t think they ever could.” kuroo finishes. 

you lift your head from his chest and look into kuroo’s kind hazel eyes as he looks back at you, flashing a small smile. 

“that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me tetsu.” you smile “and i love you too.” you finish causing kuroo to immediately go red. he was somewhat hoping you would have forgotten or missed his accidental love bomb, but how could you? you’ve been waiting to say the words yourself for who knows how long, so your heart almost couldn’t take it when it slipped from kuroo’s lips. 

“thank god.” kuroo laughs lightly, “now what are we gonna do about your parents?” 

“completely forget about them?” you joke, though in the back of your mind you’re somewhat serious. 

“i was thinking confront them and put them in their place, but that works too.” kuroo chuckles before lightly grasping your chin and kissing you. you’ve never felt happier nor safer than you do in this exact moment. 

[itscominghome]

More Than Anything

Requested by: @lottievieira27

Summary: You moved over to London from your home in Brazil to get sports physiotherapy experience with Chelsea FC. Your visit made permanent when you meet your now boyfriend, Kepa Arrizabalaga. After living there for two years, you decide it's time to go back home and see your family for Christmas. And this time, Kepa comes with you.

Based at Christmas 2021

Notes: This whole request was completely deleted from my drafts for some reason. The anguish I went through whilst rewriting half of this was insane, so I'm sorry if there are mistakes and typos or the writing is sloppy.

"Kep?" I call out as I see my boyfriend walk past the living room door.

"Yes, mi amor?" he replies, taking a few steps back and popping his head around the doorframe.

"So, you know how I'm going back to Brazil for Christmas," he nods his head, "well, I was thinking-"

"Oh, that's a dangerous thing," Kepa replies with a smirk, I glare at him, feigning offence.

"Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. Would you want to come with me and meet my family?" Kepa's face lights up.

"Really!? Yeah! Of course I'll to come with you!"

So, that's how, a month later, we were both on a plane, on our way to Rio. My head was rested his shoulder and his head on mine. We were both woken up by the bumps of the runway and my excitement only intensified. Both excited to see my family again, and to introduce them to my boyfriend.

The entire walk to my parents was spent with my hand tightly intertwined with Kepa's. The cold causing us to huddle together as we walk for warmth. Kepa and I had been together for just over a year now. We'd met at Chelsea, where I was getting work experience for sports physiotherapy and at his first session with me, we had completely hit it off. I was decently close with all of the Chelsea team, but me and him, we just had that extra bit of chemistry. That better connection. So when Covid had hit and the country went into lockdown, we'd agreed to live together so neither of us were alone. And within three months, things just slotted into place. It had all been in the public eye from quite early on. Kepa is quite territorial, wanting everyone to know I was his, though he knew it didn't stop the lingering looks from guys at parties. The press and Chelsea fans didn't originally agree with our relationship, claiming it to be unprofessional having a player and a physiotherapist together from the same team. Tuchel had no problem with it though, so we continued. After a few months the press and fans had changed their mind on our relationship, enjoying how open we were about being together and loving all the cutesy content they would receive.

I had met Kepa's family in the Christmas of 2020 and I loved every second of my time spent over in Spain. His mum and I had gotten on very well, her telling me as we cooked dinner one night that she thought I was 'the best thing that had ever happened to her son'. We had never talked about it directly, but of course I knew about the split held had from his long-term girlfriend of the time. She had told me how hard it had been for him and how much I'd helped him get his confidence back. Though, I know he'd done that all by himself, he just needed that little bit of a push.

Knock. Knock. Knock. The door had flung open almost immediately and I was greeted by both of my parents. My mum pulled me into a tight hug, as did my dad when she pulled away. After the greetings between myself and my parents, I began to introduce Kepa who was stood just out of sight.

"Mãe, pai, I have someone I'd like you to meet," I say as Kepa moves to stand by my side, "This is Kepa, my boyfriend," I finish with a sense of pride, smiling up at him. My face changes very quickly as he starts to speak Portugese.

"Ei, é muito bom finalmente conhecer vocês dois*," I stand there with a look of confusion, brows furrowed and nose scrunched up a little bit. He shakes my father's hand. My Mum is smiling widely, I always knew she would like Kepa, but I also knew that my Dad would need more convincing.

"É um prazer conhecê-lo também, nós ouvimos tudo sobre você" he replies.

"Yeah, I haven't quite got that far yet," Kepa laughs back as my mum pulls him into a hug, kissing both of his cheeks in greeting. After the initial introduction, we're invited in, engulfed by the warmth of the house.

"So, the most expensive goalkeeper in the world, eh?" My dad questions as we talk about Kepa's football career.

"Yes sir, but unfortunately I've been on the bench for a while, I had a bit of a knockback, but I'm getting better. And it's all because of your daughter," he replies, smiling fondly at me.

"I've not done anything really, it was all you, I've just been there to support you,"

"Yeah, and that's what I've needed, and you gave me it without second thought,"

After a few hours of talking, it was starting to get late and everyone was starting to get hungry.

"Y/N/N, can you come and help me prepare some food?" my Mum asks and of course I comply. Within maybe ten minutes, I have Kepa stood behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder, pressing a tender kiss to my lips occasionally. My mum gushes over it all as we continue to cook.

"Kep, babe, why don't you go back into the living room, have a beer with my Dad or something, talk about football?" He pouts a little bit, not wanting to leave my side, but does eventually go back into the other room, reluctantly.

"Your dad really likes him, you know?" My mum says with a smile, "So do I, he clearly loves you a lot." I smile at the ground almost shyly.

"He's good for you, and by the sounds of it, you're good for him. We've seen all the stuff the press has said. And The Sun, oh they just love to rip into your relationship even a year later, and you've stayed strong through it all. You're meant for one another. And me and your dad know that we aren't going to see you all the time anymore because you've found him, but we also understand that you've grown up and you leaving Brazil permanently to be with him, it is going to be one of the best decisions you'll ever make. He makes you so happy, and we can see that in the way you look at each other. He adores you."

After dinner, we had moved back into the living room, Kepa still sucking up and telling both me and my mum how delicious the food had been. I'd tried telling him how much my family already loved him, but his aim to please was too high. When we had sat back down, I cuddled up to my boyfriend on one of the couches, sat opposite my parents. Him and my dad were in deep conversation about his time at Chelsea, his life back in Spain, just making an effort to get to know each other, my Mum occasionally getting involved. My eyes started to get heavy, so I just let them slowly close. I don't know how long I had been asleep for, but when I woke back up, my head had been moved to Kepa's lap and his fingers ran softly through my hair. I hadn't opened my eyes yet, catching onto the current conversation going on whilst they thought I was asleep.

"Do you love her?" My Dad asks. And without missing a beat, Kepa replies.

"Mais do que nada*,"

*Ei, é muito bom finalmente conhecer vocês dois = Hey, it's nice to finally meet you both.

*Mais do que nada =

More than anything.

[lozzypoz321]

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in so long!!! But I am quite surprised that my current 200 followers (wow) haven’t unfollowed by now but this is my 200 celebration fic even though I’m a bit late- also I’m sorry if this sucks I just haven’t written in ages! Please bare with me! Kindly proofread by @canadianhufflepuffavenger 💗

Warnings: angst, past break up

Your real dad

-

Steve tightened his grip around your draw-string bag that he had convinced you to part ways with, as you, him and your mother made your way into the tower. He was dreading the reunion with Bucky after not seeing the team for about 2 weeks. You were practically bouncing on your feet to see your real dad. While Steve was there watching you treat your dad like a hero but not even spare him a glance.

Your family relationship was complicated yet simple at the same time: you hated your mom but tolerated her, loved your dad with all your heart, hated your stepdad as much as he tried, treated Peter like your brother and Thor exactly like your uncle.

Why did you hate your stepdad so much?

Well, first of all, he pretended like he was your real dad and tried to do all of the things with you that you and Bucky did together. Second, he always stole all your moms attention and made you feel like you were alone (whether he meant it or not)

The elevator door dinged, indicating that the three of you had reached your floor where currently Bucky, Thor, Tony, Natasha and Sam were hanging out, waiting for your “family”. The others were in the kitchen, trying to get a sneak taste of the food that had been ordered.

“Dad!” You yelled and raced up to the super soldier, he broke out into a grin and picked you up off the ground to invade you into a bone-breakinghug. “Hiya doll face.”

You grinned back at him and got down from his arms briefly to run across the room to retrieve your drawstring back so you could show your dad your new spiderman action figure that had been bought by your cousin Peter.

“Look! Look!”

He smirked slightly at your excited demeanour as you held up the toy as high as you could while jumping up and down for him to see. Once he’d figured out who the character was, you had already gone running off to see what Wanda and Vision had baked in one of the many kitchens.

“Hey Buck” Steve acknowledged as friendly as he could, it wasn’t that the two ‘friends’ hated each other, but there was definitely some tension in the room as the two sat parallel. Tony cleared his throat and mentioned something about having a cough as he quickly left the room.

“I better see where he got off to” Natasha and your mother said at exactly the same time, not wanting to experience what they thought was about to go down.

“Hi Steve” the older soldier greeted back, not sure what the intentions of the conversation were exactly. In the tower, the history between both soldiers and your mother was known but not really spoke of- Bucky dated your mother for quite a while (almost four entire years), and got her pregnant with you, but- as everybody was sure to know- all good things must come to an end- and the two broke up on good terms. That was before Steve Rogers himself got involved at a certain billionaire’s party when they realized they were (and this is in your mother's words) “meant for each other.”

“I’m erm, here to speak to you about something.” As if the awkwardness present in the room was no longer enough before, by now it was almost too much. Thor and Sam took the most obvious hint and left the room in search of something else to occupy their time.

“Well, you’re free to speak-“ Bucky was interrupted by the loud sound of laughing from behind the wooden door and almost instantly after a hushing sound. The two men had completely different reactions to this, Steve was utmostly confused, both eyebrows scrunching together, while Bucky’s face held a small smile. He knew exactly who was trying to eavesdrop and it just proved how much Steve did not know his stepdaughter from the fact he didn’t immediately know. “(Y/N),” he called out, the humour evident in his voice, “Parker, we know you're out there.”

“Awww, Peter you gave our secret identities up!”

By now Steve had caught on to the two of you and laughed lightly, trying to cover up the fact that his only chance to ask Bucky his question alone, was interrupted.

The wooden door creaked open, revealing Peter, dressed up in his spiderman suit for dramatic effect and you with a bandana on, which you thought made you look like a ninja and you held your action figure tightly in your left hand.

“(Y/N), you know it’s rude to eavesdrop” Steve scolded you, trying to be firm. You ignored him and shrugged your shoulders before going to follow the scent of Chinese food.

“Doll,” your dad stopped you “don’t ignore people, you know not to do that” he stood up from his spot on the sofa and began to also make his way to the kitchen, you right beside him muttering a small “okay dad.”

Steve tried not to let his heart sink as his best friend walked away. He would just have to try and get Bucky alone at another point in the night. If he didn’t get an answer, then he would have no use for the small box that was sitting in his trouser pocket.

“Bonjour,” Clint greeted the two of you as you both arrived for food, the island set up with enough plastic plates for everyone (Tony couldn’t be bothered with hiring people to wash normal, expensive ones multiple times a day)

Your mother smiled at you from the other side of the kitchen, but she was immediately confused when you didn’t smile back. The reason you had not, is because you had a feeling you knew exactly what question your stepdad had for Bucky and did not at all like the sound of it.

“Fries?” Bruce offered, tilting the box of food towards you. You nodded gratefully and grabbed a handful. The conversations at the table were mixed; Thor ranting passionately about the food at his home planet, Tony mumbling something about not even being hungry anyway (you thought he was just being salty since he didn’t get his Shawarma), Bucky and Sam having a silent argument across the table, and Peter was busy singing Christmas songs in his best Santa Claus voice.

“Have a holly jolly Christmas, and in case you didn’t seeeee” Natasha rolled her eyes dramatically at the teenager making everyone laugh.

“Hey don’t get annoyed at me! Everyone loves Christmas!”

You used to love Christmas before your parents separated and you weren’t allowed to spend the holiday with your dad.

“I don’t like Christmas,” your dad shrugged half mindedly while taking a sip of his soda. Peter looked at him like he had two heads and exclaimed in shock, “that impossible!”

“It ain’t kid,” Bucky chuckled while your mother shifted in her seat uncomfortably, realizing the reasoning.

While you worked your way through the pile of noodles, Thor’s incessant ranting came to an end, and the teenager had seemingly run out of songs, the group of superheroes decided to hang out in the living room and watch a movie before you, Steve and your mother had to go home.

“Which one?” Nat asked the room while holding up two movies, the nightmare before Christmas and the corpse bride. Both Halloween movies, neither particularly scary.

“How could one have a nightmare on the day before Christmas? Surely that is against the rules of the Holiday Christmas, that is based on happiness?” Thor asked, earning a quizzical look from you. “Stop tryna act like Shakespeare big man” Tony laughed while grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it all into his mouth.

Steve ignored the billionaire, and while no one seemed to be paying attention he directed his attention to Bucky, swallowing nervously. “Hey Buck, can I speak to you for a sec outside?”

Confusion spread over the soldier’s face for a split second before complying and getting up from the couch with Steve as discreetly as possible as to not raise suspicion from the rest of the team and you.

“What’s up?” He asked once they’d reached the hallway outside, he didn’t know what was up with the younger man but he could easily tell that he’d been acting nervous around himself and your mom.

“Um, I have a question, you don’t have to say yes or no or anything-“

“Your ranting.”

He stopped and thought for a second, wondering how to put it. “I know it’s been complicated recently, and I know this might make it worse with all your history with (Y/M/N) and (Y/N) but I really do love both of them and since (Y/M/N)’s parents passed a while ago, there’s no one to really ask for their blessing so I guess I’m here to ask you, can I have your blessing to propose to (Y/M/N)?”

Bucky stood emotionless for a second, not knowing how to react. He wasn’t sure whether to be happy for Steve and support him or to be angry. He had both reasonable attributes for each option but was cut short when he heard the sound of a door banging against its hinges on the floor above.

Both of your dad’s eyebrows scrunched together, who was that? Everyone in the tower knew not to do it because Tony despised it, and everyone with a brain knew that when Tony got annoyed, bad things happened.

Then almost instantly after the door entering the living room revealing an awkward Loki “I’m sorry to interrupt this conversation but your daughter slash stepdaughter, just ran upstairs in tears so if you could quickly wrap this little moment up, it would be greatly appreciated”

Bucky’s heart stopped, why were you crying?

He and Steve completely forgot about their previous conversation and quickly headed upstairs, nearly running Peter over in the process coming from the toilet. But just as they reached the door where you normally stayed when you came for sleepovers, Bucky stopped and put a finger to his lips.

“I think I should go in.” Instead of arguing, and saying that it would be good ‘bonding time’ to get you to like him, Steve silently agreed and let your dad go in.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he gently closed the door behind himself, instantly catching sight of you sat on the carpeted floor, furiously wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie.

“Hey, hey, don’t hurt yourself,” he took ahold of both of your wrists and set them down on your lap, “why’re you crying doll?”

Tears continued to stream unapologetically down your cheeks, you didn’t know how to tell him. That you had snuck out of the living room to see where the two had gone and then eavesdropped into their conversation, and once hearing your stepdad (who you did not like at all) was going to become a permanent part of your life, ran off crying.

“I don’t wanna talk about it” you shook your head, making him sigh. “Please tell me, I wanna know why. You trust me right (Y/N)?”

The simple nod was all he needed, yet his heart still ached. Seeing his only daughter in tears and didn’t trust him enough to tell him why? It was heartbreaking for him. “I don’t want him to marry mom,” you quietly admitted, “the only reason I’m still allowed to see you is because she thinks I still need a father figure, so now he’s gonna be here forever I won’t be- I won’t be able to see you anymore.”

He sighed deeply, trying to find a way to comfort you. “You will, I promise. I’ll always be apart of your life doll. No one can ever take you away from me because you're my daughter and I love you so so much, m’kay?”

You sniffled and wiped the final tears from your cheeks. “Okay.”

Before you could both get up and return downstairs to finish the movie, Bucky stopped you and lifted you up to whisper something to you.

Once he had finished you pulled back and nodded hesitantly, realizing that you should put your grudge behind you and face a fear.

Your dad and you returned outside, Steve waiting patiently while resting on the wall, gently smiling at you to make sure you were okay.

“Go on doll,” Bucky quietly urged, making you take a deep breath and just go for it.

“I give you my blessing to marry mom.” Steve’s heart skipped multiple beats as his brain tried to process what you had said. You’d finally accepted him into your life?

He broke out into a grin, trying to form words to thank you without seeming like this meant the absolute world to him. “Thank you (Y/N). I appreciate it so much.”

Bucky was proud of you for taking a leap and letting Steve into your life when you were scared. He realized at that moment that even if you did have a dad and a stepdad at the same time, he’d fulfilled his role already.

Taglist: @marvel-ous-hobbit @snarky--starky @rae-is-typing @stargazingfangirl18 @canadianhufflepuffavenger @herecomesthewriterwitch @every-marveler-ever @hera-the-writer @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @rooskaya-yelena @deephideoutmilkshake @kidney9-9 @js3639 @am3l1a-24 @bonkybarnes107 @ilovemarvel-andcats @sapphireplums @deannawallacee @keenmarvellover @garbage-potato @mollbt @spookybooisa

[bellakitse]

a 'can’t live without the other’ kind of love

“Whoa, hold on, mijo, take a breath,” Gabriel stands too, raising his hands to stop his son from leaving without explaining. “What’s going on? Who is missing?”

“My b – “ Carlos stops himself, taking a breath as Gabriel asked. “You remember TK? You and Mami met him at the market a couple of weeks ago?”

+

When TK goes missing, Gabriel helps his son find him.

Speculations for next week's Episode 2x08

Gabriel Reyes sits across his son at their favorite taqueria, smiling at the nice waitress when she places a dozen tacos between them and two Tecate beers.

“Thank you,” he says to her before turning to look at his boy. “Now, this is what I’m talking about,” he points at the food. “Unos tacos de carnitas with enough fat to clog an artery,” he grins at his son when he gets a raised eyebrow from him.

“I thought Mami put you on a diet?” Carlos questions him, shaking his head in amusement when he answers with a shrug.

“What your mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” he answers, picking up a taco. “Don’t snitch, Carlitos,” he warns him, breaking out into a grin as his son huffs out a laugh.

“And get in the middle of that war?” he answers with a snort. “You taught me better survival skills than that, dad.”

“That’s my boy,” Gabriel boasts proudly. It’s the same pride he’s been feeling all day after working on a case with his son. He and Carlos eat quietly for a moment before he lets him know. “You know, you really impressed me today.”

Carlos pauses mid-bite, looking at him quietly as he waits for him to continue.

“You have good instincts, you think outside the box, and you don’t miss the small details,” he comments with a smile as he thinks back to earlier as he and his son, along with their respective teams, poured over evidence on the crime ring of bank robbers they’re on the hunt for.

“We still haven’t caught them,” Carlos reminds him. The frustration he feels causing a small wrinkle between his brows. It makes Gabriel chuckle slightly. He remembers being a young officer and how impatience would get the better of him too.

“We will,” he promises, sure of it. “They’re feeling the heat, and when we catch them, a lot of the credit will go to you and your fellow officers,” he gives his son a half-smile. “And you know I mean that. We Texas Rangers don’t like to give up the credit so easily.”

Carlos smiles back at him, bashful, so much like when he was a little boy, praise never being an easy thing for him to accept. “Thank you, sir,” he says quietly. “It’s been pretty cool getting to work with you, dad.”

Gabriel opens his mouth to agree with him when Carlos’ phone starts to ring at the table.

“Sorry, dad,” Carlos says quickly as he picks up his phone, frowning slightly as he looks at his caller ID. “Captain Strand?” he questions before pressing on the call. “Hello?”

Gabriel takes another bite of his food, watching and waiting for his son to end his call. Because his focus is on Carlos, he notices the second his whole posture changes.

“What do you mean their unit is missing?” he questions, the words coming out quick and forceful with a hint of worry. “When did anyone last hear from them?”

Gabriel puts his food down, reaching for a napkin to wipe his hands, the desire for food quickly leaving him as he watches his son go from calm to distressed in a blink of an eye.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming right now. Text me the address of their last location,” Carlos says quickly, already standing as he hangs up. “Dad, I gotta go.”

“Whoa, hold on, mijo, take a breath,” Gabriel stands too, raising his hands to stop his son from leaving without explaining. “What’s going on? Who is missing?”

“My b – “ Carlos stops himself, taking a breath as Gabriel asked. “You remember TK? You and Mami met him at the market a couple of weeks ago?”

“Your firefighter friend,” he answers with a nod. He raises a curious eyebrow when Carlos’ face looks pained for a second.

“He’s a paramedic now, changed fields,” Carlos tells him, swallowing hard. “He and his team were answering a call in a parking building. They seem to have gone off the grid, and no one can reach them. It’s been hours. I gotta go help find him.”

Gabriel studies his son for a moment. He doesn’t miss the small shake of his hand or the way he said him, not them.

“Okay, mijo,” he says softly, reaching out to give his shoulder a supportive squeeze. “How can I help?”

 ֎֎֎

 Gabriel quietly walks with his son as they search through the third floor of the parking building. When they arrived at the scene, APD and Austin Fire were already there setting up base. From the way the firefighters of the 126 engine had greeted his son, it was apparent they were all on friendly terms. One by one, they hugged him, assuring him that they would find them, each mentioning TK in particular even though two more of their members were missing too.

“So this friend of yours,” he starts carefully, eyeing his son as they scan the area looking for any clues. They’d already found the van with bloody rags and ran the plates, now they searched as they waited for any results. “TK?”

Carlos shoots him a cagey look before his focus goes back to the area in front of them. “Yeah?” he asks, and Gabriel hates how nervous he sounds. His son should never sound like that around him.

“More than just a friend?” he questions, and if he hated Carlos sounding nervous, him looking it is a million times worse. He lets out a sigh when Carlos says nothing to his question. “Talk to me, kid.”

Carlos stops, turning to look at him. His expression is pinched as he lets out a slow breath. It’s even and practiced, a way to steady himself, Gabriel realizes. “He’s my boyfriend, dad,” he answers, his eyes looking past Gabriel’s shoulder and not directly at him.

Gabriel has so many questions run through his head. How long? Why did he lie when he and Andrea ran into them? Why is he scared to tell him now?

Though the guilt making his stomach cramp lets him know he probably doesn’t need an answer to that last one.

He takes a breath of his own as he places a hand on Carlos’ shoulder.

When Carlos’ eyes find his, he gives him what he hopes is a reassuring look. “We are going to find him and his team.”

Carlos’ expression changes again, the worry still there, but now it’s a different kind. “What if we don’t?” he whispers, his breath coming out shaky. “What if he’s hurt. Dad, I don’t know what I would do if something happens to him.”

There are tears in his eyes, and when he closes them, Gabriel knows it’s to keep them from falling. “I almost lost him once, I can’t, not again – “ Carlos stops, his breath becoming more labored as fear takes hold.

Gabriel steps forward, pulling his son into a tight hug as he gasps into his shoulder. He runs a hand up and down his back, hoping it will comfort him like it did when he was a kid. Carlos shakes as he hugs him back just as tightly, and Gabriel reels from the realization that his son doesn’t just have a boyfriend but is in love.

“We’re going to find him,” he promises, meaning it. This TK boy is important to his son, and he’ll move heaven and earth to get him back to Carlos.

Carlos nods into his shoulder, letting him go when Gabriel’s phone starts to ring.

“Ranger Reyes,” he speaks into the phone, realizing it’s the office. He listens quickly, his heart lifting as his fellow ranger gives him the good news. “We’ll be right there,” he answers before he ends the call.

“Dad?”

“They found them,” he smiles brightly even as his eyes sting at the relief he sees in his son’s eyes. “They’re all okay.”

Carlos nods rapidly, the tears he’d been holding at bay finally falling.

“Let’s go see him,” he answers, taking hold of his son’s arm, turning him around to go where they need to. “I’d like to meet this boy of yours.”

They make their way quickly out of the parking lot and into his car. He drives faster than he probably should while Carlos bounces his leg anxiously in the passenger’s seat.

Barely parked, Carlos is out of the car and crossing the police tape with single-minded focus and Gabriel hot on his heels. He comes to a halt a few feet away from the group of firefighters Gabriel met earlier, now with three new members all in EMS uniforms among them. It doesn’t take long for the group to notice them or for the young man he remembers from the market to stand.

Gabriel watches with interest as he and his son share a stare before he grows restless and pokes his son hard in his side, waving towards TK when his son turns to look at him. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he questions, letting out an exasperated breath when Carlos stares at him with wide eyes. “Go to your man!” he continues, letting out a chuckle when Carlos snaps out of his daze and does just that, all but running towards TK.

He watches as his son wraps his arms around his boyfriend, both clinging to each other. He can see their lips moving, and even though he can’t hear them, he can probably guess what they’re saying to each other. Their hands seemed to be glued to the other, neither letting go as they share a gentle kiss, and Gabriel is struck once again by the night’s revelation.

His boy is in love, a deep, forever, ‘can’t live without the other’ kind of love, and by the look on this TK’s face, his feelings are very much returned.

Gabriel is so lost in the thought, he startles when they turn to look at him. He finds himself holding his breath as they walk hand in hand back to him.

“Dad,” Carlos starts softly, hesitating for a moment before giving him a smile. “I want you to meet TK, my boyfriend.”

Gabriel smiles back at his son before looking at the man in question, who, even after his ordeal, just seems so happy to be there in front of him, holding Carlos’ hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, TK.”