#and things are only as real as we decide that they should be

[theambitiouswoman]

Been thinking a lot about this lately

We rely on external factors because they give us a sense of control, and while these things do work, we can't create a mental dependency on them

When we do, we abandon our own power and create an imbalance, dismissing it with coping ideals. These practices should be seen as tools, but the power to reach any result always relies within us

We don’t have to trick ourselves into anything or force a mindset, because that only temporarily solves the issue, real transformation comes from embracing both our mind and heart

As you decide to be, so it is

[trippinsorrows]

without you + three

authors note: welp. the ball is, gradually, rolling.

do not read this story if you haven’t read ’with me’. it won’t work as a standalone.

warnings: none

song inspo: be without you by mary j. blige

one + two

words: 4k

“I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never a good thing.” Removing your eyes from the book in hand, you glare and flip your soon to be ex-fiance off if he keeps playing with you like this. 

Of course, he simply laughs as you shove on Joe’s shoulder.. “I’m serious.”

His hand moves to your stomach, rubbing a circle as he beckons, “tell me.”

Using the bookmark on the comforter, you stick it in the page you’re on and lay it against the side of you. “I think we should take Callie back so she can have her graduation.”

Joe looks over at you, brows furrowed. “I thought we were just going to do something here?”

“I know, and I think we still can, but I don’t want to take that from her. She was really excited about graduating.” It’s something you’ve been thinking about a lot, both as a teacher and a mom. It’s so important for children to feel and be able to celebrate their accomplishments. Sure, it’s only preschool, but it’s still a big deal for her.

You want her to be able to celebrate with her ‘classmates.’

And you express as such.

“She should be able to celebrate with the other kids. Plus, and I know right now, she’s still excited about them, but I don’t know, something tells me she’s going to struggle with some form of jealousy when the babies get here.”

Joe nods, not necessarily disagreeing with you. “But, that’s not entirely abnormal, right?”

“No, doesn’t mean it’ll be any easier to deal with though.” Frowning, it’s only now you also think about how that might be for you as well. For almost five years, you’ve been able to devote all of your time and attention onto one child. 

Now, it’s about to be four.

“Hey.” Joe, forever adept at reading you, brings his hand to your chin, forcing your gaze to land on him. “We’ll handle it together, alright?”

His words, as per usual, comfort you greatly. “You’re right.” His thumb flicks your chin, as you chuckle. “It’s probably good her little spoiled self is spending all this time with you now. Before she has to share you.”

His scowl makes you snort as he drops his hand back to your ever growing belly. “She’s not spoiled.”

“Joe, as the kids say, be so fucking for real.”

“What?”

Ignoring the fact that this man literally probably still has an AOL email with out of touch he is, you continue with your very valid point. “That little girl is spoiled rotten. You give her whatever she wants.”

“She doesn’t ask for much.”

“Not you being in straight up denial.” He’s so down bad for Callie Bear. It’s not even funny. “Need I remind you of her little tantrum two weeks ago? Baby, the way you folded so quickly should have been recorded. Tribal Chief, my ass. Got taken down by a four year old.”

Joe shoves you gently. “Shut up.”

Laughing, you continue, “just admit it, she has you wrapped around her lil’ finger, and she knows it. That’s why she tried you the way she did, but I mean it, next time it happens, and it will, set her little butt straight. She can take it.”

Joe’s frown doesn’t make it any easier for you to hold in your laughter. “I don’t like being mean to her.”

“It’s not being mean, baby. It’s being a parent. As much as she loves to play with you like you’re one of her little friends, you’re not. You’re her dad. She needs to respect you as such.”

“She does,” he defends, and you sigh, knowing this is probably just a battle you won’t win. Quieting down, you decide to switch topics to something you’ve been thinking more about as you prepare for the arrival of your children.

“I’m gonna tell her, you know. When she gets older, that I’m the reason you weren’t there the first few years of her life.”

Joe sits up in the bed, removing his hand from your stomach, concern evident all over his handsome face. “Y/N—”

You lift your hand to silence him. “No, she’s going to eventually ask, and I’m not going to lie to her. Whatever anger she feels would be justified, and I’ll handle it.” 

You’ve thought about this more and more as you progress with your pregnancy. The fact that these babies will get to experience Joe from day one when Callie didn’t. There’s undeniable unfairness, and should she ever want to know just why Joe was MIA at the beginning, you will be honest with her.

You’ll make sure she knows that it was you who decided to keep her a secret from her father. How specific you’ll get will depend on her age, but you’re not a fan of lying to and holding secrets from kids when it directly impacts them.

You know firsthand how thinking your dad didn’t want to be around can fuck with someone’s mental.

You won’t let that be the case with Callie.

Joe looks just as bothered, like he doesn’t want you doing anything that could impact how Callie sees you. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, but I do and will, baby.” You place your hand to his cheek, his beard a little more outgrown and slightly unkempt as he truly relaxes in the embrace of vacation. “Because that’s one thing I never did and would never do. I never let anyone say any disrespectful shit about you not being in Callie’s life. Amir would try it a lot, and I shot him down every time.”

The mention of Amir brings a scowl to Joe’s handsome face. It’s a bit of a distraction technique you’re grateful worked. This will also be a revisited topic over the years, clearly. “I don’t know what the fuck you saw in him.”

Small smile on your face, you shrug, “he’s not ugly, and his dick was decent.” And before he can say anything smug and smart, “yours is better, duh. Why you think I’m giving you all these kids, huh?” He smiles and shakes his head. “You gotta have God tier dick for me to push out not one but gonna be four of your big headed ass children. Boy, I wish you would try to leave me. You gon be wrestling into your eighties with how much I’ll come for you in child support.”

He rolls his eyes and kisses your temple, “you know I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

“Of course not, who the hell is gonna want me with all these damn kids?” The topic at hand reminds you of the book on the side of your bed, the previous reason you two were taking a break from figuring out your approach for letting friends and family know about the courthouse wedding. “Now, we really need to start deciding on names. I’m almost five months.” Pretty soon you’ll be finding out the sexes of the babies. It’s crazy to you how quickly this pregnancy is passing by, most likely due to the happiness you feel. 

Time flies when life is good. 

“Did you get Callie’s list?” 

He curses. “Shit, I forgot.”

You wave him off. “No worries.” Sitting further up in bed, you shout out, “Callie Bear! Bring us your list for baby names!” 

She doesn’t say anything, and you start to try again when she comes running into the room, Disney notebook in one hand and her American Doll in the other. She doesn’t hesitate to climb onto the bed and sit on her knees at the end, “here you go, mommy!”

You accept her notebook that’s already opened to her list of potential baby names that she came up with. “Thank you, baby.” Callie switches to sitting with her legs crossed, her doll that looks just like her, courtesy of her rich ass daddy, smack dab in the middle. “Let’s see.”

A smile falls on your face as you share the notebook with Joe, pointing out the first name that he also smiles at. 

“Moana.” Predictable. So predictable. “Maui. Hei Hei. Tamatoa.” Joe coughs beside you to clearly hold in his laugh. “Baby….are these all names from Moana?”

Callie nods happily. “And Toy Story and Encanto and The Little Mermaid,” she essentially continues to sing-song list off damn near every Disney movie ever created. “The babies have to like Disney too, mommy! Like me, you, and Grandma.”

“You’re so right.” To be fair, you really shouldn’t have expected too much more. She is one Disney loving kid, through and through. “Well, thank you so much for the list, Callie Bear.”

“Daddy, did you make a list?” She asks, head tilted as she gently caresses the top of her doll’s head.

“Not yet, baby. Mommy and I are gonna make one together.” 

“I like baby Moana.” 

He chuckles. “But you’re our little Moana.”

She pouts and corrects, “no, I’m Callie.” Her sass makes you laugh. Joe wasn’t entirely wrong. She really is a lot like you sometimes. “I want a baby sister named Moana.”

“What if they’re all boys?”

You and Callie have similar reactions. It’s just that yours is one of horror and hers is more of shock.

“Noooo, I want a little sister.” 

Adding onto Callie’s vehement protest, you make your own strong thoughts and feelings known. “And I am not pushing out three boys at once, Joe. You done lost your god—”

“What do you want for your birthday, Callie Bear?” You’re partially thankful for the save but also irritated he’s asking this question he already knows is gonna generate a wild ass answer.

“A puppy!”

See.

You do your best to use the perfect combination of understanding yet assertiveness. “Baby, we done had this conversation before, we are not getting a puppy until you’re at least ten.”

“But, I’ll be old!”

“Exactly, old enough to take care of a puppy.” One look at Joe, and you can see he’s about to open his mouth and probably find some reason to ‘agree’ with or at least defend Callie’s request. “Absolutely not. No dog until she’s older, and that’s final.”

Callie, understandably, does not agree nor like this rule, and it’s evident in her deep pout and the way she crosses her arms over her little body. “Not fair.”

“Life ain’t fair, buttercup.” You retort, quickly reminding her as you take in her appearance. “Speaking of, it’s almost time for your wash day….”

The infamous, dreaded day of nonstop hair washing and styling is enough to wipe her smile away and award her a brand new reason to start whining, “I don’t want to.”

The feeling is mutual. “Neither does mommy, but we gotta do it eventually, Callie Bear.” Looking over at Joe, you inform him, “and you will be present for this ordeal, sir, so you can learn how to do her hair for me.”

He looks confused, nose turned up. A chuckle is withheld at how much he and his daughter mimic each other in this situation. “Baby, I don’t know how to do hair.”

Sucking your teeth, you smartly point out, “you do your own!”

“I barely do anything with my hair. You know this.” 

Damn. He’s right. Lucky ass. “Regardless, when I get too big to be bending over the sink like that, someone’s gonna have to do it.”

Of course, Joe’s smartass just decides to throw out something that should probably be discussed before saying around Callie, “I’ll take her to your mom.”

Callie’s eyes light up a bit. “Grandma!”

“Joe.” Lord, this man got too much money or something. “You seriously are going to fly our daughter out to my hometown so my mama can do her hair?”

He shrugs, clearly not seeing an issue with what’s being proposed. “Yeah.”

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head, you lean further back in the pillows of the bed. “You are too—” However, you’re cut short mid-sentence, face and chest dropping simultaneously, the change in your disposition enough to catch Joe’s attention. 

“What’s wrong?” He’s sitting up even more, expertly masking the concern that’s growing by the second. Recognizing this, you will that small smile to start forming on your face, shaking your head as you motion for him and Callie to move closer.

“Mommy?” Callie is just as confused as you reach for both her and Joe’s hands, placing them on your belly, trying to find the spot of origin. “What—”

This time, she’s the one to stop mid-sentence as she feels it, the sensation you last felt when you were pregnant with her. Callie’s face is still set with understandable confusion, but your gaze on Joe reveals minimal concern and an abundance of amazement. 

“What is that, mommy?” Callie finally asks. The emotion in your throat takes you back a bit. You’re not typically a super emotional person, but there’s something about this moment, about feeling your babies kick for the first time and being able to share it with your fiance and child that does something to you. Knocks at those pillars that hold up your resolve. 

“That’s the babies. They’re kicking.” You explain, smiling a bit as Callie looks at you in horror.

“Why are they hurting you?”

“They’re not, sweetie. That’s what babies do. As they get bigger and grow, they need to move around and sometimes kick. You did the same thing to me.” Adding some playfulness into your voice, there’s a level of relief to see she appears less concerned. 

Your attention, however, is brought back to Joe as he kisses your temple, hand still planted on your stomach, clearly soaking up every bit of this precious, cherished moment. 

“I love you,” he murmurs against your temple. It’s such a simple statement, a little three letter sentence that means more than anyone could ever understand. Moving your hand to the side of his face, you both laugh as Callie moves her face to your stomach. 

“Don’t kick mommy too much, okay, little babies?” The determination on her face should be captured and locked away for safekeeping for the rest of time. “She’s the bestest mommy ever and pretty and smart and—”

“—and still not getting you a puppy.” While your daughter is undoubtedly one of the sweetest kids you’ve ever come across, she’s also intelligent as hell. And you know her like the back of your hand. Enough to know where she’s headed with this. 

And, you’re proven correct when she rolls her eyes again, making a ‘hmmph’ sound that has Joe chuckling next to you. She then sets her little plotting sights on Joe as she takes her hand from your stomach and moves to crawl into his lap.

You have to keep yourself from rolling your own eyes as she pulls out that sickeningly sweet voice and holds onto his shirt. “Daddy?”

Joe doesn’t hesitate to answer right away. “Yes, baby?” One look at him, and you already know what the answer is going to be. This man is so weak for this little girl. It’s not even funny. 

“Hallie wants a friend…..” Joe’s eyebrows cave in confusion as he looks over at you. 

Gesturing to her American Girl doll on the edge of the bed, you fill him in, “that’s what she named the doll.” 

He chuckles, clearly amused by the name that rhymes with hers. “She does?”

Callie nods, that excitement building back up. “Two friends!”

Mouth dropping, you prepare to put this child in her place when Daddy Warbucks beats you to it, living up to his reputation.

“Well, then we need to get her two friends.”

“Yay!” Callie celebrates, hugging Joe who ignores your look of disapproval. “Can I make her friends too?” 

And once again, the first living, breathing bank to ever exist is quick to fold. “Of course, Callie Bear.”

“Yay!” She cheers yet again for another way too easy battle. It’s not even a battle at this point. Battle would mean that both parties have somewhat of a chance, and Joe is clearly putty for his little girl. “Thank you, daddy.” She seals the deal with a hug and kiss on his cheek before climbing off the bed, grabbing Hallie as she shares, “I’m gonna make them now!”

With her tablet, clearly. The tablet you’d bet any money Joe once again disabled the time limits on. 

Lord, you’re about to have five damn children to take care of at this point. 

It’s only when Callie is out of the room and on her way to celebrate yet another successful day of finessing her daddy that you punch this man in his big ass arm. 

“What?” It’s him having the audacity to sound and look confused that has you ready to kick him out of the room. 

“What do you mean what?” Angling your body more toward him, you explain, “Joe, why are you buying her more dolls? American Girl dolls, at that. I know you must have paid at least $300 for the first one you got her. I saw all them accessories.” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it, because he can’t. Callie had always asked you for one, and while you could have scraped some money together to make it happen, you couldn’t come to grips with just how many other more useful things one could do with that money. “She doesn’t need them dolls, babe.”

“You gon’ let her get a puppy now?”

An easy ass answer. “Hell no.”

He has the nerve to catch a slight attitude with you as he affirms, “then she’s getting the dolls.”

Rubbing your temples, you realize this isn’t a ‘fight’ you’re not going to win. “You know what, whatever. You do what you want, but I’m telling you right now, these—” You bring his hand back to your belly. “—babies are not going to be spoiled like their big sister. They gon be like Oliver Twist and grateful for a bowl of soup.”

He moves his hand around, probably trying to see if he can feel any more movement. “Callie is grateful.”

“For now.” Not really wanting to have this circular dialogue with him, you grab your phone to see a couple missed texts but open the one from your mom first, instantly rolling your eyes. “Not this again.”

The shift in your voice catches Joe’s attention. “What?”

Shaking your head, you show him the thread, thumb right next to the link for an article on ‘melanin maternal mental health’. 

Talk about fucking alliteration. 

“I don’t know what’s been up with her lately, but she’s been sending me all these links for articles and like motivational photos about mental health and motherhood.” You explain to him, going to heart the message and send a quick response to at least show some appreciation. Because there is a little there. That your mom cares about you so much. But the concern isn’t necessarily valid or needed..

This is the happiest you’ve been in some time. A long time. If ever.

Nothing is going to change that.

Especially being a mother to three more children. 

Placing your phone back on the nightstand, a glance at Joe reveals he’s debating something. “What?”

He moves closer to you, hand pushing back some of your coils. “Been thinking about that movie thing…..”

The smile on your face grows as you move closer, eyes twinkling with all the curiosity in the world. “What did you decide?”

—------

Megan is having a wonderful day.

One of the best she’s had in a while.

Not only did she manage to wake up on time, but the coffee she ordered from this cute little cafe she found while on a business trip in Denver a couple months ago awaited her on the outside of her apartment door when she got back from her pilates class the night before.

And there’s few things she loves more than a delicious cup of morning Joe.

A smirk falls on her face as she hums “Here Comes the Bride” while engaging in her extensive shower routine, admiring the expert work of her wax lady. Body hair has always been an absolute no. But, it’s when she moves the loofah across the weight of her heavy breast that Megan imagines hands and not her loofah. Big hands that would cup her boobs roughly as he forces her to turn around, slams her up against the shower wall and fucks her hard from behind, her moans and shouts of pleasure dancing across the tile, alerting everyone of just who owns this pussy.

Hand gliding down her wet, nude body, she keeps the vision going, slender thighs clenching together at the thought of him forcing her on her knees, his dick down the back of her throat, eyes watering as he mouth fucks her.

“Joe….” Thin fingers slip past wet folds as she realizes she’s going to be a couple minutes late for work.

So worth it though. 

Because Megan hasn’t come like that in years. Her legs are practically wobbly as she finally exits the shower, bathroom mirror completely fogged to where she has to grab a towel to clear up a section so she can see herself.

The pink tinge of her cheek brings a sly smile to her face. 

“I can’t wait until we can be together, my love…” A sweep of sadness comes over her as she grabs her phone, admiring his handsome face on her lock screen and opens Apple Music to play his entrance music, selecting the repeat button before she continues with her routine. 

It takes her about the usual time.

And soon enough, Megan is out the door, having finished her delicious coffee and opted to just have a banana for breakfast. There’s no time for unnecessary caloric intake.

She has to start preparing for the wedding. 

Walking into the office, right away, she can detect the almost sullen atmosphere and does her best to match the vibe.

To play along. 

And before she can go to her office bestie, Paige, to “find out” why everything feels so off, the team is pulled in for a mandatory meeting.

Luke’s quiet demeanor does take her a bit back. He’s never quiet. She’s not complaining though. Not at all.

As soon as everyone is seated, he starts off with the general pleasantries that are weighed by the sadness in his voice. And then he gets into it. “I know some of you have heard, but for those who haven’t, I—uh—I got some bad news.” He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “There’s uh—no way to say this, but Susan Jackson was found dead this morning.”

As an array of gasps and shocked countenances fill the room, Megan does her best to blend in, to play along with the genuine surprise of all of her coworkers.

Paige leans over to whisper to Megan, eyes also watery, “they say she killed herself. That she was found her on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building. Window was open and everything.”

Megan expertly fakes a horrified expression. “Oh my god, how heartbreaking.” She even manages to crank out some tears that don’t shed but get the job done. “I can’t believe she’s gone….”

“Megan.” She lifts her head, eyebrows also raising. “I know you worked close with Susan on a couple of clients, and you also know she was set to assist Roman Reigns on his debut film, but with Susan gone….”

Megan shakes her head, pulling out a few sniffles. “It’s okay. I’ll….I’ll do it. I’ll take Reigns as my client.”

And my husband.

Luke gives her a nod of appreciation, wiping at his eyes as he clears his throat and continues to address the room.

It takes almost everything in her not to roll her eyes. The woman was fucking fifty for crying out loud. 

She lived long enough. 

He says something about grief counseling, the suicide hotline, blah blah blah.

Megan does her best to listen but mostly tunes out the rest of the meeting. It’s irrelevant. She has what she wants. Now, it’s time to go after who she wants, the thought alone creating such an intense, euphoric feeling inside of her stomach as she casually traces the brand new tiny letter ‘J’ she now has tattooed on her ring finger.

[seduzist]

marriage lesson

alicent hightower x rhaenyra’s daughter! reader

cw. totally based on this drabble, but can be read individually. pseudo-incest smut but mentions of real incest (uncle-niece by arranged marriage), age gap (alicent is old enough to be reader’s mother), can be interpreted as being taken advantage of but it’s consensual so i will add dubcon just to be safe.

as not only a princess, but a targaryen, you knew you had your duties with the throne, doesn’t matter how much you tried to run and hide from it, it was useless, and the time finally came, viserys, the king himself, decided that a marriage between you, the loved daughter of rhaenyra targaryen, and aemond, his middle child, would seal the peace between his children and wife when he’s gone. you had no choice but do it, aemond wasn’t that bad, he always treated you with respect, respect he didn’t have for your bastard brothers and you resented him for it, but decided to ignore since you would have to marry him. you didn’t think many things would change between you after your marriage except for the fact that you would have to have his heir, to lay with him. and that’s exactly what made you nervous.

the anxiety running through your veins on the night before the marriage made you unable to sleep, so you thought that walk around the garden would help to calm your nerves, maybe even fully accept your undeniable future. you ordered your sworn sword to ignore your midnight walk, with the promise that you wouldn’t leave the castle. your steps silently echoed through the dark halls of the red fortress, trying to find anything that could take your mind off the day followed, until you saw the queen at the garden, sitting on a bench next to the middle tree.

“princess.” her soft voice reached your ears before you could think about going back to your bedroom, scared that she might be mad about your late night walks, but she seemed nothing more than pleased at the sight of you, she looked beautiful with her long hair down in curls falling over her back with her white nightgown exposing her arms and shoulders.

“your grace… i couldn’t sleep.” you said, taking a step closer to her, explaining yourself without any hesitation.

“it’s fine, it’s normal to be nervous before your marriage.” she scoffed, suggesting you to sit by her side with a hand gesture. you obeyed, feeling much more comfortable to be on her side, maybe comfortable enough to voice some of your thoughts.

“it’s not the marriage that bothers me… it’s the consumption of it.” you refused to look at her face, preferring to face the garden instead, but you were sure that she was smiling.

“what are you scared of?”

“my mother said it hurts the first time.” the queen let out a little chuckle at your response and you felt like an idiot for a second, before she speaks again, in a much lower tone, something different in her voice.

“indeed, it’s much easier for the man gain the pleasure in the first time than for the woman, perhaps… there’s something you can do that may ease the pain, and give you just as much satisfaction.” that’s when you face her, curiosity in your eyes while doing so.

“what that would be, my queen?”

she seemed very pleased by your question “we should not talk about such things here.” that’s what you remembered before end up in her chambers, almost begging her to teach you how to not feel pain during the act, her answer would be the relief of all the agony you felt the last days, you said, and the merciful queen couldn’t help but give in to your pleads.

“lay down on the bed, i’m gonna show you.” you obeyed immediately, waiting for her next instruction, but that didn’t come, instead, she sits by your side, looking at you for a minute or two, almost like she was in a intern battle, about to do something she could regret later, but soon enough her hand rest upon your leg, going up and hiking up your silk nightgown till your thighs, your entire body shivered at her touch, and she seemed just as much as affected as you. when her hand reached under your core, she stopped, breathing heavily, almost telling herself that was her last chance to stop, she didn’t.

“he’s gonna be on top of you, like this.” she opened your legs slowly and gently, positioning herself between them, but not laying down on top of you, unable to do such a thing, one of her hand held her body up and the other hand was touching you, watching carefully your expressions, mixed in shyness and nervousness, but she could tell you were aroused as her fingers pulled your underwear to the side, finally contacting your warm core. “oh gods…” she paused, whispering those words to herself, still unbelieving she was really doing it, but the whine you let out at the contact made her smile. “when he enters you… that’s when it hurts.” her voice was just above a whisper, if you were just a few more inches away, you couldn’t hear her, the whole atmosphere felt like a secret. “but then, if you touch yourself right here…” her middle finger made contact with your clit and your body had a entire reaction, you put your hand on her shoulder, by reflection, your mouth opened in a loud, surprised sigh, the queen’s smiled grew as she saw your reaction, she could feel her own excitement start to create a discomfort between her legs, but she ignored it.

her fingers started to rub your, once untouched, pussy, playing with your clit, rolling under her fingers in circle motions, you lets out moans under her, as a thin layer of sweat started to form on your skin, your reactions seemed to please the queen.

“see? how good it is? you can ease the pain, you can pleasure yourself.” her words were sincere but you wasn’t the one pleasuring yourself, no, it was her, your queen, right on top of you, her experienced fingers playing with your most sensitive part in the best way on the night before your marriage with her son. you could be naive, but not dumb, in someway, this was wrong, a sin, could be the reason why you were even more eager for it.

“feels really good, your grace.” the title slipped of your lips as a reminder of her place, of your place, but she couldn’t help herself at this point, she was dripping wet and your needy voice whispering those words felt intoxicating, a encouragement for her to continue, she approached her face of yours, and your immediate reaction was leaning in to kiss her, but you couldn’t reach, so you tried again, free from any shame, looking like a adorable desperate mess for her eyes, that’s when she gives in, not just kissing you, but claiming your lips, you were inexperienced, but learned quickly her pace as her tongue entered your mouth, exploring eagerly, you tasted like candy for her, the sweetest of the candies with a pinch of forbidden.

“gods, you’re gonna be the ruin of me.” she finally lets herself fall on top of you, whispering those words before kissing you again, your skins in much more contact, warm and sweaty, eager and hot, she was all over you, her fingers worked so well, her presence intoxicating all your senses, all you could feel was her, the pleasure she was giving you, the pleasure she felt just by touching you, you called the gods name, lost in your pleasure, but that was in vain, not even the gods could help you now, she would be the ruin of you.

[sjsmith56]

A Better Man, Part 1 - Preparation

Summary: Bucky Barnes, a shy general contractor with a shady background, offers to help a single mother get her inherited house renovated. It should be simple.

Length: 4.9 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, named OFC, named OCC, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson.

Warnings: Bucky’s awkwardness, trust issues, teasing, practical jokes, association with criminals.

Author notes: This is primarily a romance between two people who have been hurt in the past. There will be moments of angst and even some darker memories and events but this Bucky is a soft and sweet guy.

Part 1

All three of the men stood outside the building, waiting, just like they did every Tuesday for the past month.  Bucky Barnes, the man who owned the building, where his general contracting business was located, pulled out a package of cigarettes, offering one to the other two, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson.  Both declined. 

"She doesn't like cigarettes," said Steve, pulling out a package of gum instead, offering one to Sam, who took a stick, sliding it out of the foil paper before inserting it in his mouth.  "Says it's not good for the baby."

Bucky put his cigarette back in the package, then stuck his hand out for a piece of gum instead, making Steve and Sam grin.  He had it bad if he was willing to chew gum for her.  To be fair, the other two gave up smoking around her themselves, after meeting her for the first time 5 weeks before.

"Here she comes," said Sam, nodding his head towards the end of the block.  "Best part of the week, right there."

The "she" they referred to was Andrea Hart, a single mother who moved into the neighbourhood over a year before but only started walking past their building in the past month and a bit.  They watched as she pushed the baby stroller towards them, her long hair softly bouncing in the light breeze, smiling at other people who saw her walk this way every Tuesday at 3 pm, enjoying the way she radiated something good in every step that brought her closer. 

"Good afternoon," she called out, as she approached the three men.  "Were you all waiting for me to walk by?"

"Yes," said Sam and Steve simultaneously, just as Bucky said the opposite.

Bucky glared at the two men, but he smiled back at Andrea.  "We were taking a break and enjoying the sunshine when we saw you coming so we decided to wait."

"How's baby girl this afternoon?" asked Sam, peeking into the stroller.

"Wide awake for once," answered her mother.  "Would you like to hold Lily?"

Sam grinned.  "Yes ma'am.  I've held a baby before.  My sister has two boys, and I looked after them when they were little."

She reached into the stroller, then lifted out the cutest doll of a baby girl, dressed in a bright yellow romper.  Sam expertly cradled Lily in his arms, smiling down at the baby with a look that the other two men had never seen before.  It obviously worked as Lily gurgled happily at him.  Steve leaned over and poked his finger into Lily's chubby little hand, grinning when she grasped it tight.

"I think she's adorable," he said, in an admiring voice.  "She must bring you such joy."

"She does," smiled Andrea.  "I just wish her dad thought the same way."

"He still not helping you?" asked Bucky.  "We know people who could talk to him.  Just give us his name."

"No, please leave him alone," she answered, the light within her dimming a little.  "I appreciate the offer but he's a lost cause.  Just as well, because then he would have to be part of our lives, and I don't want that.  We're better off on our own."  With a shrug, she smiled again.  "Well, we better be going.  I have to pick some things up at the grocery store."

Sam reluctantly gave Lily back to her mother.  Bucky watched Andrea's face as she laid the baby back inside the stroller, her face soft and full of love for her little girl.  The guy who got her pregnant must be a real asshole for not wanting to be part of their lives.  What he wouldn't give for someone like her to be waiting for him at the end of a workday.  With another smile and a quick wave Andrea left and they watched her walk away until she was out of sight.

"It's not right," said Sam.  "That lovely lady and that sweet baby deserve the best."  He looked at Bucky.  "We are going to talk to the father, aren't we?  He needs to at least be financially responsible."

"You heard her," replied Bucky, taking the gum out of his mouth, and dropping it into the bucket of sand outside the door of his building.  He pulled a cigarette out and lit it, taking several long drags and blowing the smoke out forcefully.  "Find out who and where he is and whether he can afford to support that baby.  Don't do anything to him.  I just want information."

Two days later they met in Bucky's office.  Sam turned on the Smart TV and sent the photos he had on his phone to the big screen.  It was obvious with the first one who the baby's father was.  The first picture of him handing off a shipment to a local drug dealer was all that the three men needed to know that he was bad news.

"Shit," muttered Bucky.  "Brock Rumlow."

"Hydra Contracting," said Sam.  "He doesn't usually handle deliveries but their usual guy, Walker, got himself arrested for beating someone up.  The new ADA is making an example of him, although Pierce is trying to get the charges dropped or reduced."

"How the hell did she get mixed up with him?" asked Bucky, his frown threatening to leave a permanent crease between his eyebrows. 

"Flat tire," said Steve.  "Right in front of one of their chop shops.  He changed it for her, asked her out then swept her off her feet.  When he got tired of her, he left her high and dry."  He looked at Sam, who shrugged.  "Bucky, Hydra has been associated with a baby trafficking ring.  I'm not saying Rumlow would do that to his own daughter but ...."

"If he's not willing to acknowledge her as his daughter then he might not care," stated the dark-haired man.  "Do we have anyone in their organization who can keep an eye on him?"

"Yeah, Quill has been working as security at the strip club.  Rumlow's there most nights.  Do you want someone watching her during the day?"

There was no answer for Sam for a long time, then Bucky sighed.  "She's not working, is she?"

"No, she's on leave.  She seems to have a bit of money from an inheritance, but she'll likely have to go back to work before Lily is a year old.  She was a teacher."

He stubbed the cigarette out and rubbed his face with his hands.  Of all the men to become involved with, Rumlow was one of the worst.

"Do we have anyone on the city payroll who can be doing work near her place?"

Steve flipped through a list on his phone.

"Mrs. Parker's nephew," he said.  "He's in the general landscaping department as a labourer.  Could be trimming some trees that are on public property near her place."

"Arrange it," said Bucky, glancing through the door where May Parker, his receptionist, was on the phone.  "I want to know her other walking routes as well.  Might as well get people staked out on them."

Sam and Steve glanced at each other.  "That might leave us a bit thin," said Steve.  "Unless I spring for more who are on the city payroll."

"Do it," ordered his boss.  "I don't want her to walk anywhere without eyes on her."  He looked up at them.  "Yes, I like her.  I just want her and her little girl to be safe.  It's not like I have plans to ask her out."

With a grin at each other, the two men left, and Bucky sat back, resting his head on the back of his chair, then closing his eyes.  Unable to help it, he thought of Andrea, like he had every day since he first wondered why Sam and Steve waited outside the office at the same time on Tuesdays, starting five weeks ago.  It was two weeks later when he joined them and saw her for the first time.  Sam, who had always been friendly to the ladies, greeted her; commenting on what a fine day it was for a walk.  Then he asked about the baby as if they had known each other for some time.  The jerk had even inquired about the baby's first tooth coming in then shared what his sister used for teething issues.  Andrea had been so grateful for the advice.  Bucky tried to remain indifferent but since that day he couldn't help but wonder if someone like her would ever be interested in someone like him.  With a sigh, he opened his eyes and stood up.  It was no use hoping for someone like Andrea.  Considering the type of work he had to take on, no decent woman should come within 20 feet of him.  He grabbed his jacket and told Mrs. Parker he was going for lunch. 

Half an hour later, he found himself in line at a hot dog vendor, ordering a chili dog and coffee.  Taking it with him, he sat on a bench in a nearby park, taking the first bite.  Watching the people milling about he didn't notice that someone was approaching him until the woman spoke.

"Chili dogs, huh?  I didn't see you for a hot dog guy."

He looked to his right, surprised to see Andrea, by herself.  His first reaction was to stand up, with his chili dog still in his hand, which made her grin, then he gestured to the bench, waiting for her to sit down before he did. 

"Where's Lily?" he asked, after he finished chewing the bite he was in the middle of.

"My friend is watching her," she said.  "I had an appointment with the bank."  He raised his eyebrows.  "Just some things to do with my house.  I inherited it and it needs some work, so I have to get a loan to pay for the renovations."  She looked away for a moment.  When she turned back, he noticed her eyes were glassy.  "They turned me down, so I might have to sell it."

"Why did they turn you down?" asked Bucky.

"Because I'm on maternity leave, and technically not working," she sighed.  "I'm living on the money I inherited but it's not considered income.  It's enough for me and Lily but not enough to pay for the improvements."

"I'm sorry," he frowned, noticing that he was still holding his partially eaten chili dog.  Standing up, he tossed it into a nearby garbage can, then sat back down with her.  "Maybe I can help."

She smiled wanly then looked away.  "That's nice of you but we barely know each other and only to say hi."

It came out of his mouth before he even had a chance to think about what he was saying.

"Go out with me," he said.  "We can become better acquainted."

Andrea seemed amused by that.

"You're not serious.  I have a six-month-old baby that I'm nursing.  I can only go out for a few hours."

"Then have me over for dinner," he said.  "I can look at your place and see for myself what you need doing.  I know lots of tradespeople who would give you a good rate on any necessary renovations if I asked."

It seemed to take forever for Andrea to answer and for a moment, Bucky thought she was going to turn him down.  Then she breathed out noticeably and looked at him.

"Alright," she said.  "Tomorrow, 6:30.  Let me give you my address and phone number.  Don't dress up and don't bring alcohol as I can't drink while I'm nursing."

He grinned, handing her his unlocked phone for her to put her information into his contacts.  Before she handed it back, she called herself and answered the call on her phone, saving his information in her contacts.  Then she stood up and walked backwards away from him.

"Don't be late," she said, before she turned forward as he watched her until she was out of sight, followed discreetly by one of his men.

By the time he got back to the office, Sam and Steve already knew he was seen with her.  Then he told them about getting an invitation to her place for dinner.

"You did what?" asked Steve, while Sam looked at Bucky, not believing what he just told them.

"I asked her out, but it's hard with a baby so I invited myself for dinner at her place instead," he replied.  "She needs work done on her house and I said I could look at what needs to be done and recommend tradespeople who could do it for a good rate."

"I hope you're not thinking of some questionable tradespeople," said Sam, "who sometimes use stolen materials or cut corners."

"Not for this job.  I would insist on quality work."  They still looked askance at him.  "I can assess her security situation as well.  It was a spur of the moment thing.  It's not like I'm going to ask her to be my girlfriend, or anything."

"Bucky, she's a single mother," said Sam.  "You don't want to mess with her heart.  That would be cruel.  Considering your track record ...."

He sighed.  What did they think he was?  He wasn't a slimy lothario preying on a lonely woman.  He was a slightly shady businessman, who was doing something kind for a nice lady who had been taken advantage of by an asshole.  Dinner with her was just being friendly, nothing more.  He sent the pair of them off, telling them to make themselves busy and leave him alone.  They did, but not without making jokes about him getting soft and gooey inside. 

They were even worse the next day, asking him every hour if he was psyched up about dinner with Andrea.  He finally had enough before lunch time and left, heading out in his car.  He didn't even know where he was going then was shocked when he found himself parking outside his mother's condo building.  Taking it as a sign he headed inside, going up in the elevator as it went up to the 27th floor.  The elevator doors opened, and he walked down the hallway towards her door, slowing down as he got closer.  Just as he decided to turn around the door opened and his mother, Winnifred Barnes, gestured to him.

"You made it this far," she said.  "You might as well come all the way in.  Mrs. Parker said you left the office."

With a sigh, he stepped in, following her to where she had lunch already set up for the two of them.  Whenever he needed to talk seriously about something he often showed up at her place for lunch.  He sat at one of the empty chairs, taking the napkin and spreading it across his lap, as Winnifred had raised him with manners.  Then he waited while she served herself first.  Placing some food on his plate, he took a bite, chewed it well, and looked at her.

"So, tell me about her," said Winnifred.  "She must be something if she's got you this bothered."

"How do you even know about her?" he asked.

"Darling, I'm your mother," she smiled.  "Plus, Sam and Steve report to me on any woman who draws your attention.  Don't even try to get them to stop.  I have dirt on them."

"She's a single mother of a six-month-old baby girl," he answered.  "Teacher, living off an inheritance while she's on maternity leave.  The baby's father is a douchebag."  She frowned at him.  "Sorry, he's an associate of one of our rivals.  Swept her off her feet then abandoned her when he found out she was pregnant."

"I already know that."  She took a bite of her salad, then a drink of water.  "What is she like?"

"I hardly know her, but she makes me want to be a better man."  He took another bite of food.  "Her parents basically threw her out and even though she has every right to be angry at her situation, she's so full of light and joy.  The look she has for her baby is a look ... it's a look I want to feel on me.  I would give it all up for her if she felt for me what I feel for her.  I would go legit."  He looked his mother in the eye.  "Is that what you wanted to know?"

She put her cutlery down and placed her hand on his.  "That's what I wanted to know.  Does she know what you really do?" 

"I think she suspects but no, I haven't said anything to her.  I'm having dinner at her house tonight.  She needs some renovations done on her home and I offered to assess them.  Figured I could point some of my more honest subcontractors towards her and give her a good deal."

She sighed.  "You know, I was in your shoes when I met George.  My father didn't have any sons, so I took control of the business after he died, then I met your dad, and he was drawn into my world."  She smiled.  "He could handle it, being a veteran.  Could she handle it if you stayed in?"

For a long interval Bucky didn't answer, then he shook his head.  "I don't want her involved in it.  It would dim her inner light.  Plus, it would make her and her daughter targets.  She doesn't deserve that."  He sighed.  "I don't even know if she thinks of me in the same way."

"Well," she smiled and patted his hand.  "Until you find that out, it's something that you don't really have to worry about, is it?  No matter how it turns out, just make sure that she's protected.  Even just showing up at her place for dinner can make some of your rivals take notice of her."

He nodded.  "I know.  I've already put people on watching her.  I won't let anyone hurt her."

She smiled indulgently at him, then changed the subject to something more trivial.  By the time Bucky left he felt more confident about the dinner.  His mother must have phoned Sam and Steve because when he went back to the office, they didn't make any jokes about him and Andrea.  That lasted until he was ready to go home and change.  He grabbed his jacket, reaching inside a pocket for his car keys, but pulling out several condom packages instead.  Coming out of his office he heard them both snickering and just shook his head at them, before storming out of the main door without a word.  He didn't see the disapproving look Mrs. Parker gave the pair.

When he got to his condo, he showered, shaved, applied some cologne, brushed his teeth well, and put on some dark wash jeans, a button up shirt and a sports jacket.  He looked at the small pile of condoms on his dresser and shook his head again.  Animals: those two were so crude.  It only took 20 minutes to get to Andrea's place which would make him early, so he kept driving until he found a florist, and bought some flowers for her.  She said not to bring alcohol but didn't say anything about flowers.  It wasn't until he was almost at her place again before he wondered if they were appropriate.  When he parked, he looked up lavender roses and groaned at the symbolism behind them; love at first sight.  If he went to get different flowers, he would be late, and she distinctly said not to be late.  With a shake of his head, he grabbed the bouquet and walked up the steps of the three-story brownstone to the door, pressing the doorbell.  Andrea appeared moments later, opening the door.  She looked great, wearing a top and jeans that hugged her in all the right places. 

"Right on time.  Come on in."

He followed her to the kitchen, handing her the flowers.

"These are for you."

She smiled a full smile that made her face light up in a way that made Bucky dizzy.

"They're lovely, thank you!" 

Putting them on the counter she reached for a vase but even on her tiptoes she couldn't grasp one, so Bucky reached over her and put it on the counter.  Quickly, she filled the vase with water, then cut the bottoms of the stems.

"You didn't have to buy me flowers, you know."

"I didn't want to come empty-handed," he answered.  "Where's Lily?"

"I fed her and put her down.  She should be out for several hours.  How have you been?"

Bucky shrugged.  "Honestly?  Nervous about coming over.  I don't go out much."

"A handsome man like you?  I don't believe that."  She arranged the flowers.  "I was nervous, too.  I think I've changed my clothes about three times.  Mind you, the first time was because I leaked."

He frowned at her in confusion, then she pointed to her chest.  It couldn't be helped, as her gesture made him look right there, at a pair of beautiful, full breasts.  Swallowing hard, he forced himself to look in her eyes instead.

"Ah, right.  That must be embarrassing if it happens at the wrong time."

"Tell me about it."  She grimaced, then placed the flowers on the table, which was nicely set for two.  It reminded him of how his mother always set the table for them to eat together.  "Can I ask you something?"  He nodded.  "What exactly do you do?  I noticed your building doesn't have a sign."

"Shit," he thought, then he breathed.  "I can do this." He smiled at her.  "I'm a general contractor.  That's why I know a lot of tradespeople.  What about you?  You said you're on maternity leave."

"Teacher," she replied.  "Elementary school.  They weren't exactly happy that a single teacher got pregnant.  Not the best role model."  Bucky tried to look sympathetic.  "Anyways, why don't you stay here, and I'll bring supper out."

"I can help," he offered.

"It's okay.  I've got it."

She brought lasagna, then went back for salad and garlic bread.  For him, she offered soda but poured herself some milk.  Deferring to her to serve herself first, Bucky waited to help himself.  The first bite of lasagna was good; more than good.  It was really good, and he told her so.  That brilliant smile displaying her inner light came out again and he felt his heart beating against his chest wall, wanting to see it more.  They talked about all sorts of things, laughing and joking about people they worked with.  He shared some funny stories about Sam and Steve, while she told him about her grandmother, who lived alone in the house, then invited her to live there after she found out she was pregnant.

"She died when Lily was just a month old but at least she saw her only great grandchild.  Excuse me."

He could hear her crying in the kitchen and got up from his chair, approaching her, then gently pulling her into his arms. 

"You must miss her a lot," he murmured, as he rubbed her back, not believing how good it felt to hold her, but wondering what else he could do to comfort her.

Andrea nodded, then pulled away and reached for a tissue.  "Sorry to lose it like that," she sniffed.  "My parents weren't happy with me, but she just took me in, no questions asked.  I think my parents are also angry that she left me the house.  I got the feeling they were counting on it to fund their retirement dreams."

"Why don't I help you clean up and you can show me what needs to be done," he suggested. 

She agreed and they cleaned up the dishes together, then she took him to the third floor, showing him the water stains on the ceiling, an indication that the roof needed replacing.  From there, they walked down to the next level, and she showed him a bedroom with water damage around the windows, which looked original.  He took a good look at them, reluctantly noting that they needed replacing.  The main floor, where the living room, kitchen and dining room were, seemed to be in good shape but she pointed out that there were water stains on the ceiling in the living room.

"The bathroom is right above this corner, so there must be a leak," she said.

"Might be that," he stated.  "I would have to open that ceiling up to be sure.  There might be an opening in the brick façade there that's letting water in.  Not the easiest thing to fix without tearing something apart."

She stopped in front of a door.  "This is the worst part," she said, as she opened it, then turned on the light that lit up the stair well.  He followed her into the bottom floor, where she turned on another light then showed him the electrical panel.  "This isn't good, is it?"

He looked at the mass of different wiring that snaked out of the panel, giving out a long, ominous breath.

"No, it's not.  You have aluminum and copper wiring mixed together in there and that's dangerous.  It's a fire hazard.  Fixing this would be a priority and it won't be cheap because they'll have to rewire the entire house.  That means they have to open walls and ceilings up, replace the junction boxes.  It's a big job, will cost a lot of money, and will take a while.  You wouldn't be able to live here while it's being done."

"Shit," she swore, then she started crying again.  "I knew it.  I had another contractor in here and he said none of it was a big deal.  I went to the bank for the money based on what he quoted me.  I should have known he was stringing me along."

"May I ask who you talked to?" asked Bucky, concerned it was one of his guys.

"Sitwell Renovations," she said.  He felt relieved that it wasn't one of his.  "Do you know them?"

"Yeah, they're sleazy," he replied.  "Do you have someone you can live with?"

She shook her head.  "No.  My closest friend is in a one-bedroom flat, and my parents won't even answer my calls.  There's no one else I know well enough to ask."

Just then the overhead light went out and they were caught in darkness.  Bucky felt her hands on his chest and placed his on her arms to steady her.  As their vision adjusted to the darkness, he could make out her face in the faint glow from the light in the stairwell.  She was so beautiful in the dim light.  Her pupils were dilated, and she looked up at him in a way that made him feel like a teenager again.  He really wanted to kiss her but instead he pulled his cell phone out and turned on the flashlight, aiming it at the floor.

"Smart idea," she said.  "I should get a new light bulb in there."

He shook his head.  "Honestly, you need to move out of here until you get the wiring redone.  I'm serious about it being dangerous.  The longer that mess is channeling electricity the bigger the risk of an electrical fire."

"I have nowhere to go." 

Her hands were still on his chest, and she was looking at him in a way that made him feel something he never felt before.  There was a rushing sound in his ears, but he felt like he could hear both of their heartbeats at that moment.

"Move in with me," he offered.  "I have a three-bedroom apartment.  It's in a secure building, with in-suite laundry.  You can take Lily's furniture with you, but it's fully furnished so you don't need to bring anything else.  I'm working everyday but I can be the general contractor for this job, get it all done the way you want, with all the proper permits and qualified tradespeople.  We can work something out for payment because I'm doing alright so I don't need it up front or all at once."

She stepped away from him.  "Why would you do that?  You hardly know me."

He swallowed and looked down before looking at her again.  Tell her the truth.

"I like you, a lot.  You've been dealt a bad hand, and I can help you.  I don't expect anything from you ... you know, nothing like that."  He ran his one hand through his hair.  "I think you need a break and maybe a friend."

While he spoke, she moved away a little bit more.  Her face had changed, become harder and less trusting.  No, I'm not being a creep here.  Please, let me help you.

"I think you should go," she said, in a voice that was barely more than a whisper.  "Please, just go."

It felt like he had just been doused with a bucket of cold water.  Reluctantly, he nodded his head and moved forward, waiting while she stepped aside to let him pass.  Without a word, he went up the stairs then to the front door, looking back at where she stood at the doorway to the basement.

"I'm sorry if I offended you.  My offer is genuine.  If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

He opened the door and stepped out into the night air, taking a deep breath.  Then he unlocked his car with his remote and got inside, looking at her brownstone for several moments before starting his car up and driving away.

Part 2>>

Series Masterlist

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[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Wally West: Barbara, you ever faked it?

Barbara raises her eyebrow as Dick eats her fries.

Barbara Gordon: You're asking me this while we're out to lunch?

Wally: I'm positive Artemis faked it last night. Mostly because she told me. I don't know how to handle this.

Barbara: Don't concern yourself, we all fake our orgasms with guys. It's not you, sometimes I'm not in the mood.

Dick: What loser did you fake it with?

Barbara: You could never tell.

Dick stops eating and looks at Barbara shocked.

Dick: You didn't fake with me.

Wally (enjoying this): I should order dessert.

Barbara: The beach incident and the time you decided to sleep with me when you were downtrodden when Kori broke up with you.

Dick: The two times we had sex?!

Barbara: That's riiiight.

Dick: Wait, wait, wait, the- we only had sex two different times! You faked it twice?!

Wally: I'm just going to eat your burger.

Barbara (laughing): Oh yeah. I have no idea how you're able to satisfy Corey, you were boring and annoying. That time you came into my apartment, soaked in rain I was like 'I just cleaned the carpet', that is how low my libido was that night. Then you were like, 'Kori hasn't returned my calls, can't we have one night together?' It was like I had nothing to do that night so I was like sure I'll check if this vagina still works in a wheelchair.

Barbara smirks, showing her honesty.

Wally swiped Dicks burger as the man was shocked at this new information.

Barbara: That was me paralyzed, but I can feel down there, and hoo-boo, I laid there like a limp fish. It was like 'Christ, you can't hit that spot.' Being real with you, you weren't my first orgasm.

Wally (ordering cake on the small pad at the table): I vault that stuff. You want to split a cake?

Dick: I could- I can hit the spot!

Barbara: Not with me, baby. Not with me. You're personality clashed at every turn. Why do you think I ended things and wanted that stupid rumor of us dating squashed? I trust Wally won't tell anyone.

Dick: Shush, Wally. Barbara what about the shaking and panting?

Barbara: I'm good, aren't I? The dates were already bombs I thought maybe we would be great at sex, a nope

Barbara takes a sip from her soda. Dick stares in the distance and holds his head down.

Dick: You faked... You faked... But I'm Dick Grayson. This can't be.

Barbara: Ask Kori, she's probably doing it with you.

Wally (already calling Kori): Kori, have you faked it in the relationship?

Kori (on speaker, gasps): Who told him?

Dick whimpers.

Kori: Sometimes I'm tired, it's not you, baby. There are factors.

Barbara: Or you're annoying as fuck.

Barbara cackles as Dick lays his head on the table.

[darth-memes]

I really mean it. Don't trust any review that you see online about anything Star Wars. Specially the Acolyte and the latest series. You would be surprised how many are made in bad faith, and with the Acolyte they have multiplied. Talk to your friends that have actually watched it and talk about it in a reasonable way. It's ok if you don't like the series or decide is not your thing, as someone who has really liked it, I know that it's far from perfect. Don't engage with reviews online unless you really really trust the person, because many are made with bad faith and/or nostalgia-tinted glasses that honestly make people forget how the original trilogy really is. It's the reason I stopped reading or watching ANYTHING resembling a review related to Star Wars because it is surprising how easy it turns into a toxic rant that many times can be boilt down into racism and misoginy.

Honestly, even avoiding all of that, with the Acolyte I almost burnt out of the fandom of how terrible it was. I luckily didn't received any hate myself but I have a friend who posts information and fun facts between other things (doesn't do reviews, or opinions, it's mostly all factual(if you have an instagram follow him in @skynobi_starwars, he is always on top of the latest news and posts frequently but without spaming)) on instagram and he was showing me the amount of comments just spewing hate whenever he posted anything about the series and it was disgusting. He said that there had always been some, but they had basically multiplied.

But that's his situation, mine was in real life. I have a coworker who also loves Star Wars and his mask fell off when on episode 3 the wItches showed up and suddenly all of his critiques were about the amount of black people and lesbians that were there. By the next episode everything was just shit and how they should fire the entire team. Basically screaming and being impossible to talk to. Which honestly made me really sad because he had always been a person with who I could talk to about anything Star Wars related. Worst of all, a younger coworker who was wondering if to watch the series entered into watching "reviews" that were outright lying about what happened in the episodes or of people that straight up didn't watch it. He showed me a few and they were all the same. I had to spend a good while proving to him how the series was review bombed even before starting and just proving almost every lie those people were telling and how most of it. It was exhausting and terrifying, I was also really worried because this coworker is very young and what he showed me bordered some alt-right beliefs that should be near NOBODY. And, holy shit, was this a slide to the far right pipeline.

The only reason I didn't burn out is because I have a trusted group of friends with whom I could comment the episodes and have fun making jokes about it. Curiously, my dad also watched it and enjoyed it. But that's basically that's all I had to reduce my feedback of Star Wars for WEEKS to not burn out with how everything was going both online and real life.

And I know that there's a lot of toxic parts of the Star Wars fandom. My recommendation is not engage with any of the big names in the fandom (you know who I am referring to, specially in Youtube). Again, it's not that you cannot be critical, there is a lot to be critical in Star Wars, there is also much that one may dislike, but there is a line. And a lot of people that called themselves reviewers crossed and are so far away in their delusion of how anything that Disney does becomes an attack against them that they will never be able to enjoy the saga again. But raging like that will just result in another Rise of Skywalker, not another Empire Strikes Back.

Instead, look for friends with who you enjoy talking about Star Wars and have fun watching, playing, reading, etc with the saga. Because at the end of the day that's what we want, to have fun with it and enjoy the journey. Sometimes it may disappoint, but if you are always looking for that like a big part of the fandom that posts online, you are never going to enjoy it again.

And isn't Star Wars better when you focus on what makes you happy about it than on what you didn't like?

(Also, again, watch out for the people who are being racist, mysoginistic, homophobic... I can't emphasize how even I, that I try to curate as much as I can my experience in the fandom, I found them fast this time)

[daemonwritesstuff]

AEGON II & HIS BELOVED AELLARA TARGARYEN

A/N: this is yet another trade with my best bud @sugutoad !! I’m so happy to do yet another one of these and I hope I did this one with justice (I think I’m just gonna go dig up a hole and die in there once this is posted 🧍) but I will forever be grateful to do so many matchups with ya 😭❤️ here ya go! and yes this is aegon x anna’s OC!

It was a peaceful evening for the two couples Aegon and Aellara, they spend their nights together in each other rooms or someone deep into the night with no one around, it was just them together in the world.

 Aellara and Aegon’s relationship was a secret, no one knew about them only his family did, including his sister-wife Helaena, she understood their situation and aware of how in love they were, she wouldn’t interfere with them…

One night where Aellara and Aegon usually met up frequently, this time they were in his own chambers… When Aegon and Aellara are in each others arms she decides to ask a question to her beloved and it was a very simple question that no one should really be upset about, she asked the boy “Are we ever gonna be together?” Aegon got out of her arms in confusion, why was she asking such a question?

“Of course we are…” Aegon assured her but it really wouldn’t last long and the tension started getting more stronger, Aellara was losing her hope… her thoughts kept bugging her, telling herself that maybe this love was not meant to be.

She had said it out loud… not knowing that Aegon was still with her, he got up and started yelling at her… telling her that they will be together but Aellara is sick of hearing the same thing, if Aegon really loves her and wants her then wouldn’t he do something about this marriage he was in and finally be with her?

“I… I don’t think this was meant to be…” she said as she let out her sobs, her pain, everything single horrible thing she has ever thought of, she let all of it out during this breakdown, before Aegon could even say a word she unstably got up, lifted her dress and started running away sobbing, Aegon’s soul was screaming at him to tell his guards to go after her, to stop her, but the words… nothing could come out of his mouth as his heart kept putting pressure on him and he started crying.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It’s been a few days since he was last spoken to Aellara, she has not spoken face to face with him recently and he began to grow anxious, waiting for her to come back to him so he can be in the comfort of her arms, the real place he called “home”.

He decided to use his sword and start attacking a wooden statue (meant for using swords) to let out his anger, Criston just happened to be waking by and stopped by and asked Aegon if he wanted to duel with him, and without a doubt he did… this lasted for a few hours until Aegon has gotten tired and decided to sit down.

Aegon told Criston how he can make it up to his beloved, Aellara… how he can fix things with her once again, it took Criston a few moments to figure out something and tell him, he told him that he can invite her somewhere she wants to go, no questions or anything, just to take her. He also added that he can divorce Helaena somehow and try to plead to his mother to let him marry Aellara.

Aegon who listened to Cristons words decided to do exactly what he said, he had got the cooks to pack him and his mistress a meal, one of his liking and of her liking so he can make it up to her, after the meals have been cooked and brought to him Aegon bumps into Aellara and tells her to come with him and he has a surprise, she was a little bit suspicious of what he was doing but never declined, just giving short answers like “Ok”.

He wanted to take her dragon to go and eat but Aellara took a liking to his dragon and insisted that she would like to go on his dragon, he could never decline anything his beloved wanted, so he decided to take her on Sunfyre and fly off to the destination he planned to take her.

Once they arrive they got to a garden that they both enjoyed going to here and there for dates, it was also the same garden he also took her to on his first date with her. They start talking like they normally do and after some time after talking there’s a silence, but Aellara decides to break that silence and lean over to kiss him, and then Aegon gives her a few pecks back and they both smile sweetly to each other.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

After their pleasant little picnic they enjoyed Aegon takes her to go walk up a hill, enjoying the view of the sunset, he tells her “Do you ever wanna just run away?” Aellara giggles at his silly question and jokes back with him, causing him to start joking back with her and telling her (terrible) jokes that make her crack up.

After they stop laughing at some point Aellara decided to tell him something that she needed to tell him (before the argument never happened) but she was nervous to, after getting him to listen to her she decided to tell him that she is with a child…

His smile fell, but after a few seconds his smile came back and he picked her up and started spinning her around in joy and starts celebrating a little that he’s gonna have a child with her! But he sooner realizes that the child might be a bastard and is worried about how she’ll react, but Aellara reassures him that she doesn’t care as long has their child has their father with them in their life.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

After Aegon heads back he immediately tries to talk with his parents and his grandfather, Otto Hightower. Aegon immediately tells them that he wants a divorce with Helaena and to let him marry Aellara, she was also of his blood too and it would strengthen more of the bond more.

Viserys refuses this at first because of their traditions and tells him that he shouldn’t try to do that, to keep the tradition going and he focuses on his legos after that 💀. On the other hand with Alicent and Otto also persist and they start bringing up the history of the Dawn’s Empire between House Dayne and House Targaryen (which was kind of stupid to compare that to…)

But after some time, Viserys will allow him to marry Aellara and get divorced with Helaena (much to his sisters joy, she can finally be free from being queen and go back to focusing more on her insects).

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

After some months, Aellara and Aegon are officially married! They got married in the way of Old Valyria since it would strengthen them more through soul and no one would be able to separate them at all, not even the gods.

Their party was amazing and so much fun, lavish but the room was filled with joy, there was a lot of singing, talking and dancing, there was no bad stuff happening at all, all anxiety and fear was gone, it was a refresh for a better life they were about to have. Aellara and Aegon were made for each other and no one could ever separate them, no matter how much they try.

[kimberleyjean]

What did Adam change? (Part 1)

To follow up on my recent reblog about the baby swap, I'm going to take a closer look at Adam where we leave him at the end of S1. Because, by the end of S1, Adam had changed quite a few things... and I'm going to use both the TV show and the book to provide evidence.

To become the Young's real son, I don't think Adam really needed to change all that much. He just says the words to Satan, Satan disappears, and that should be it, right? But no, because Adam goes much further, and I think he does it because he can.

Because Adam has opinions, you see. Opinions on how the world should be and what he wants to happen. Except, unlike Agnes, who needs to write a prophecy and then wait 300 years for her descendant to enact it, Adam can just make it so.

The Other Two Babies

I originally thought about putting all the things Adam changes into a single post, but instead I'm going to make this a short series of posts, because he changes a fair bit. Let's start with where we left off with the baby swap, crack open a copy of the book and discuss the changes for Warlock and Greasy first.

Warlock

Here's some excerpts of Warlock flying home from Megiddo to America (my bolds for emphasis):

It was Sunday afternoon. High over England a 747 droned westwards. In the first-class cabin a boy called Warlock put down his comic and stared out of the window.

...

And now he was going back to the States. There had been some sort of problem with tickets or flights or airport destination-boards or something. It was weird; he was pretty sure his father had meant to go back to England. Warlock liked England. It was a nice country to be an American in.

...

And Warlock flew on to America. He deserved something (after all, you never forget the first friends you ever had, even if you were all a few hours old at the time) and the power that was controlling the fate of all mankind at that precise time was thinking: Well, he's going to America, isn't he? Don't see how you could have anythin' better than going to America. They've got thirty-nine flavors of ice cream there. Maybe even more.

So it's Adam who has sent Warlock back to America, despite Warlock wanting (even, expecting) to be on his way to England. And he's controlling the fate of all mankind.

Greasy

Likewise, he has changes for Greasy Johnson too (the discarded baby who grows up to win prizes for his tropical fish).

The plane was at that point passing right above the Lower Tadfield bedroom of Greasy Johnson, who was aimlessly leafing through a photography magazine that he'd bought merely because it had a rather good picture of a tropical fish on the cover. A few pages below Greasy's listless finger was a spread on American football, and how it was really catching on in Europe. Which was odd… because when the magazine had been printed, those pages had been about photography in desert conditions. It was about to change his life.

Adam is deciding here how to alter Warlock and Greasy's paths. Warlock wants to be back in the UK, but Adam thinks America is better, while Greasy's magazine is changed to American football, which I guess is implying he's going to become an American footballer.

Now, not everyone may be aware, but these parts weren't in the first release of the novel. It only came about later, in the American edition. Apparently the changes were in response to prompting from the American editor, but they got "carried away" making those changes (source).

Season 3 (warning: speculation)

So, do you think this could be relevant for S3? For me personally, the fact that these bits were added later makes me wonder if this was helping to set up for a potential sequel. It's certainly poetic - just like the baby swap that originally involved all three, we are now implying a potential adolescent swap of Greasy, who is interested in American football, and Warlock, who is interested to return to the U.K.

If you've read at all about the hypothetical plot of the proposed written sequel, you'll know that it involved a trip to America, ostensibly to look for a lost Jesus. So, if the next book was originally meant to be about going and finding someone (Jesus?) in America, then Greasy or Warlock could make sense. It would be a switcheroo all over again if Warlock had left for the UK and Greasy for America.

Another alternative is that all three could end up converging in America, since Warlock already lives there and both Adam and Greasy have interests in going there. But if that's the intention, why mention that Warlock wants to be back "home" in the U.K.?

So, those are my possible takes on how this passage can be interpreted. I know there are some theories that either Greasy or Warlock may be the Second Coming. I've also seen a theory now that Adam himself could be a contender (both spawn of Satan and spawn of God - it'd certainly be interesting!). I'm not placing bets on any of these outcomes just yet.

In addition to this passage in the book, we also see some interesting changes made by Adam which are featured more prominently in the show - one's that have implications for the ineffable husbands.

Part 2 coming soon!

Thanks as always to everyone at the @ineffable-detective-agency (including @noneorother, @embracing-the-ineffable, @lookingatacupoftea, @251-dmr, @somehow-a-human, @maufungi, @havemyheartaziraphale, @theastrophysicistnextdoor, @dunkthebiscuit, @komorezuki, & @ghstptats).

[bibibbon]

Did I ever saw the MHA movies? No. Never bc I know it would be a BK fest (as if canon isn't one too)

But talking about Nine...

It makes me wonder how Nine would approach Izu ?

Bc shig in canon is this and ....I hate it for the simple fact he decided to be amicable to BK.

Hi @mikeellee 👋

I know you haven't watched the movies but nine and izuku have interacted and fought each other during the movie, while nor deep or meaningful conversations took place the movie does establish them to be enemies as izuku is against nine stealing kasumo's quirk.

Nine is very hostile towards everyone who isn't his team so unlike shigaraki there is no bias where he is amicable to one character and hostile towards another.

Due to this iam going to assume your question is: what if nine was in shigaraki tomura's position?

Nine in this scenario starts out with his team that is founded after he helps them and he already has the ideology that the strongest in society should rule while the weak should stay in their place.

By having nine attack the usj with just his small highly skilled team trying to take down the symbol of peace it adds a lot more meaning and symbolism as

1) it makes sense for society to underestimate their attack

2) it would intoeduce us to the main villain group and their real capabilites early on

3) we would get more time to flesh out and develop the found family bond of nine's team

It's during the usj arc that we get both nine's ideology introduced and that we see that same ideology being indirectly challenged by

1) who nine is trying to take down (all might)

2) Izuku midoriya himself

This is because nine is trying to destroy the own natural order he pleads and praises by taking down the strongest person in society. Nine is trying to destroy the already establishes hierarchy where all might is clearly more powerful therefore, making him a hypocrite. However, he could plead his case and use the argument that all might and his reign of peace is inevitably coming to an end so nine will take this opportunity fight and prove himself to be the strongest and bring about change to the system.

Izuku midoriya as well as many other characters like eri or nejire are interesting characters that end up contradicting the system and ideology that nine has in place. I mention izuku midoriya specifically because he is the only charactwr our of the others that I listed that is involved in the usj arc.

In the usj arc nine will figure out that izuku holds a powerful quirk which would cause him to develop mixed emotions. On one hand nine would be intimidated by izuku as he has the ability to take over as the strongest and choose to uphold the status quo which nine wants to annihilate and change into what he label's the natural order of things. However, on the other hand nine would also relate to izuku as both of their quirks have horrible consequences in their body and would feel a sense of hatred as he sees another person discarded by society because his quirk is too strong.

Due to these feelings nine chooses to investigate the case of izuku midoriya further and choose to recruit him onto the team as a means of disabling the threat and also gaining a power tank on his side.

This feeling and motivation is reinforced by the sports festival arc where nine is introduced to both izuku and todoroki. However, another person also enters nine's field of vision: katsuki bakugo. Nine feels like he could manipulated bakugo to fit a narrative and mold that he wants him to fit and exploit him to show society that the strongest are being oppressed by the weak. This is a mistake that nine makes and he learns that this is a grave mistake through the consequences he receives (the kamino arc) and the new information he gathers during the kamino arc.

Through research and the kamino arc (where izuku and bakugo are kidnapped) nine finds out that izuku was quirkless. This would be an interesting development as izuku was and may still be someone who nine thinks should be at the bottom of the cycle but also izuku is too similar to nine. This discovery would send nine spiralling what does this mean for him? His ideals? His plan? People will suffer, people have suffered and people are suffering. Nine's plan wouldn't change a thing but would just make one group of people suffer less than another group of people.

Nine would have to go back to the drawing board and his interactions with izuku become more frequent trying to understand izuku and izuku trying to understand him. They fight, they argue, they talk and all of that to reach a middle point. What should be done with society? It's flawed, they have managed to acknowledge that but upholding the status quo would do no improvement and changing it to have it be a cruel cycle of the strong abusing their power would also be a horrible thing.

With all of this occurring one thing that brings nine and izuku closer to one another is the overhaul arc, specifically one character Eri.

Eri infulences them to meet a middle ground one where society isn't determined by power of quirks but a society where everyone has potential and is taken care of. No people aren't born equal but a sample of equity can be achieved if they try hard enough.

Izuku meets more people who got exploited by their quirks and so does nine. Nejire is a good example of a character being bullied because of her quirk and she is a direct foil to izuku midoriya which makes her more interesting

[vsaintsin]

I spent all of Draft One completely ignoring the uncomfortable situation I had going with 's vs s' when it comes to singular and plural nouns and my sudden inability to comprehend how they function. I kept going "No, don't get hung up on the issues, that's what editting is for, just get through the draft and leave the treasure hunting for later".

Guys. I'm having a fucking meltdown. There is no standard. There is no standard?! You're telling me I could say Ceres's or Ceres' and both are right? You're telling me it's supposed to be boss' but we all hate that so it's boss's? You're telling me that punctuation is actually just vibes and you can actually legally make it up as you go because it's all hocus pocus and nobody knows what they're talking about?

This is liberating, actually. I will be abusing this information.

Any other fun tidbits of English that we know about that seem made up? I'd like to know just how much I'm allowed too break this bastard language before it's actually a crime.

[honorthysalad]

Screw the ghost shit, this is the biggest mystery in HGSN. If Chapter 22 doesn’t open with a full telling of Yoshiki’s tragic backstory: the birthday party where he received 11 copies of the same book from 11 different people, then idk if I can continue reading…

[bunnihearted]

the earth is getting hotter and hotter and nobody's doing anything about it but im misanthropic and depressive because i can see nothing that inspires hope 🤙

[triglycercule]

halloween is like in a month and as worlds worst procrastinator (self declared title) i think i'm finally gonna fufill my dreams and make an animation meme of the mtt with that one happy halloween junky rin song (but ughhh i need to decide on costumes i'll give them!!!!! off to the drawing board!!)

[truecorvid]

.

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

A memory is a funny thing to lose, isn't it?

(TW for mental and emotional manipulation, and suggestions of domestic abuse)

(A rather serious/angsty one-shot based on a rather silly drawing of mine)

Of all the things Demeter had begun losing during her time in Macavity's well cultivated, rotted-boards-beneath-the-ivy, poorly painted rose garden, the most surprising, perhaps, was the sure and steady fading of the memories she had carried of her past life. Or what was left of them, anyway.

It sounded….strange, but she had only started noticing it recently, when periods being left to her own devices had stretched longer and longer, allowing the odd quiet in her quarters to permeate between her ears. It felt as though she was being held underwater, unable to think of then or when as she gazed up to the sun peering through the muddy surface; only here and now. There was only the present - there had been nothing else before Him.

Some days, left alone a touch too long, or tangled too deeply in one of Macavity's more philosophical tilts at turn-of-phrased intercourse, it felt like a chore to wade through even her basic short-term memories. What had happened in the morning, the evening before, last week - to say nothing of the long term. That had never happened before. The more time passed under his roof, the more things seemed to…muddle. As though every edge of every thought was runny, sliding through the cracks of her mind like the membrane of a damaged egg, too slippery to scoop back into its broken shell. 

All she knew was this place. All she knew was…was him, she supposed. 

Some evenings, when left with her ears ringing in her gilded bird cage, when everything seemed particularly bad, she would climb to her favourite window, broken only in so many thousands of webs from the outside, and press her paws to her eyes until she saw paisley touched circles and stars swim in the depths of her darkness, just to see something again. 

This usually sufficed for a moment, small pleasures, until it did not, and she would press harder and harder, desperate to clear the blurriness from her mind and coax something forward from the snapped seams of her subconscious that was not this place and the hungry cats who roamed it. Anything clearer than a wisp or a fragment. 

That night was a very, very bad night indeed. But with it, she managed. Broken and aching, she finally managed it. 

Nights were dreadful and muggy and near rotten smelling in the summertime of her memories; most cats who did not have other, far off places to return to, and lived within the confines of the chain-link fence (not a cage - her mind is quick to remind her - not a prison) would often venture from the confines of their winter suited dens to sleep outside. Sometimes, the clearing would be filled with cats strewn about, seeking some sort of refuge from the stuffy confinement of their awnings, a general grumble of discontent in the air. 

Other times, like this particular one, the threat of a summer shower, having weighed heavily in the mist for days now, kept them begrudgingly hidden, shadows occupying every other nook and crack in the wall; that was hardly better, but it was better than nothing. At least air was circulating, then.

Demeter can feel herself there, peering out from eyes that could not possibly be hers now, down at paws that were still too big for her body.

She wanders through the fog, hopping from perch to perch slowly and deliberately to buy herself more time…for something. The more she wanders, the clearer the layout of the yard before her becomes, even if she can barely see it; this place is familiar. 

This place…is not home. She is already home, isn't she.

The humidity brings out a copper tasting smell of metal to the forefront of her nose, which means she's getting closer to where she wants to be. She climbs up the wilting boxes, gripping canvas bags between her claws when she slips, until she reaches the top of the drainpipe's mouth. Her favourite spot to hide.

Demeter jumps down, expecting the gaping mouth of darkness ready to swallow her whole, only to find it already occupied. She freezes, feeling angry and disappointed and…relieved.

The other cat in the pipe visibly startles at her vertical entrance, nearly hitting its head on the solid lead above it, but pointedly bites off the hiss of surprise that very narrowly escaped…him. Him, yes, that's right. 

This particular tom has always been jumpy and skittish, Demeter thinks - kindred - but it had gotten worse around the time she was remembering. She cannot recall exactly why. 

She stares at him, slowly lowering her irritated tail to the ground, and he stares back. She feels as though caught red handed doing something she shouldn't - but she wasn't doing anything wrong, was she?

“It’s late,” a voice says at last, disconnected from the body before her, as though coming from another memory entirely. Demeter is nearly positive it's his; it’s comforting and familiar even as it echoes with a scolding, but Demeter cannot remember this tom. At least not by name. Not anymore. “You should be home.”

“I…don’t want to go home,” she finds herself answering, digging her overgrown claws in the near-mud below, watching as it wells between her paw pads. Everything is hazy - even the ground is melting.

The tom's face pinches ever so slightly like they all seem to when she says things like that, but he does not tell her to run along as she expects. He squints at her instead, his features muddling in the middle of his face, thoughtful, making a noise that sounds…neutral. Calm. Resigned. Hmm.

"I take it then you didn't come along just to pay me a visit, did you?" 

Demeter rocks to her hind legs, holding onto the reflexive "no" that sits heavy in her mouth. She licks absentmindedly at the moisture beads on the ends of her whiskers, tastes the salt there, hoping for…she wasn't sure what she was hoping for, exactly. No anger? Mercy? No; this tom was not one to deal punishment for nothing wrong done. Something else?

"Very well," he sighs at last into the resounding silence. Demeter feels her chest unwind. He shifts, an unspoken invitation coaxing her out of the heavy fog and humidity before it becomes rain. Demeter - still caught - sees no reason to reject it. "At least stay with us until the morning."

Us. Yes. A moment of visual clarity sparks through Demeter's subconscious. There was more than one cat in that pipe that evening. 

A smaller body shifts in the tom's arms, blinking open sleepy eyes to stare at the intrusion while she squeezes past to sit beside them. It does not have any discernible features in her memory, but she sees it there, clear glass eyes shining in the low light. 

Wait…Him, too. She sees him there.

This kitten is a newer one, but she's seen him 'round before; he smells mostly of his parent and milk, just a few hairs bigger than a teacup. He is wholly unbothered by the startle that still prickles along his father's back (the smells echo one another, she thinks distantly, like a call-and-response; they are family), but he does not seem particularly thrilled by her presence, either. If anything, he looks mostly grumpy from being woken up, watching critically as the older tom licks her head to wick the wet away. So she won't be feverish the next morning; she vaguely recalls somecat saying that. She tolerates this, focusing her attention on blinking back at him so he knows she's not a threat.

Demeter always liked the kittens, even when they were loud and messy and troublesome. Even when they cried and bit and wiped their noses on her. They were funny things, and lots of work, but Demeter liked them just the same. Her aunt has kittens she was allowed to help with, and she'd spent many Sundays kitten-minding there; maybe that's where she'd seen this one before. 

The kittens make her feel…purposeful. Useful, even. Someday, she will have kittens all for herself, and she will take care of them all on her own instead of just minding them. A whole, happy family. That is what Demeter wants. 

She watches as the kit yawns and whines his discomfort, brow furrowed, uncertain whether he would prefer to be away and cooler or held closer and warmer. He sticks his tongue out at her; she returns it.

Seemingly satisfied with her impromptu bath, the other tom draws back and notes her pinpointed interest. She feels the warmth of a smile just beside her temple.

“Perhaps I can trust you to mind him tomorrow?" he asks lightly. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it." He certainly would not, though she appreciates the white lie. "And you're very responsible, aren't you, Demeter?"

Demeter winces, as though struck. Her name aloud sounds like broken glass in her memories. The ringing threatens its return on the horizon. She covers her ears with her paws.

Tomorrow, he said. It is always like that with him when they play this…Demeter is too old for games. Next week, we’ll be reading a new book - you'll enjoy it, it's one of my favourites. Next month, the mice will come out of their hiding, and you’re just about old enough to join the hunting party, aren’t you? Next year it will be time for your first Ball proper, you must be excited! And on and on and on. The conversation seems the same every time they speak. It’s as though he knows what she is thinking of doing; offering small trinkets of fancy as incentives for her to stay a while longer. But that was silly; he couldn't possibly know what she is thinking. Only Macavity knows what she's thinking.

"We were having a bit of trouble, weren't we?" he breezes on past the ringing, softer now, as though he hadn't said anything at all prior. He speaks gently to the baby, who turns a considerably less cranky expression up towards him, nudging insistently at his jaw until he is licked as well. "It's too warm out to be sleeping indoors, but too wet to be sleeping outdoors. Poor thing. We've had to compromise."

Demeter considers this, the air in her lungs heavy and damp. She will drown soon, she thinks. Here…there. When he turns to look at her again, Demeter sees his face in startling clarity for just a moment, eyes bright and colorless like a windowpane. Like the baby, she thinks. Just like the baby. "And that's why you were out and about too, isn't it? Good thing you found us then. I'd say this is about as tolerable as it will be until morning."

Until morning. 

Afternoon. 

Evening. 

Morning again.

Over and over.

Demeter feels herself nod, suddenly grateful for…the excuse, and as she does, the clarity begins to fade again. The tom and kitten say no more, voiceless now as she starts to forget them. The fog seeps in the cracks. She feels herself burrowing closer to whomever these strangers are, grasping desperately at the threads before they are lost again. She misses them, but she doesn't know them. She remembers how they smell, how the downy flesh of the kitten's ear brushes her chin, how her bones are suddenly loose and free of pain even caught against the pipe’s side. The summer heat is stifling, and the thicker coat under her cheek does not help, but she feels safe here. 

She was safe there, she thinks.

I wish I were back there.

And as soon as she does - as soon as the betraying though creeps up her spine - the memory fades and disappears. Back to the storm clouds - where the window panes are broken and splintered. 

Demeter buries her face in her knees, seeking out the blurry stars and clear glass and a hint of that kitten's scent. She does not cry, even as it begins to rain outside, but she mourns as the ringing returns. She has all this time left for mourning.

And tomorrow, beneath the heavyset press of Macavity's paw on her neck, she will remember nothing of it at all.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...