#but i’m also worried that actually talking about it WILL make me have a breakdown

[onesweetbeautifulsong]

venting a bit don’t mind me

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[nickfowlerrr]

everybody talks

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, a bit of angst. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. nipple play. if i’m missing something that needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: almost 7.7k

notes: happy halloween 👻 so i had an idea for reclusive neighbor!bucky meeting reader when she stops by his house with a group of kids for trick or treating, and this is very much not that but i think it still works lol. also, i wrote this in a day? i don’t think i’ve ever written more than like 4k in a day before so, yay me!

i wanted to participate in @witchywithwhiskey’s horror movie hoe-a-thon but i decided so last minute and then thought the deadline was the 31st, but i absolutely read the guidelines wrong bc it was actually yesterday and i missed it lol. i’m linking her event still though bc i did use a quote prompt! 🖤

The loud shaking of the wobbly cart you grabbed in your hurry precedes you as you make your way through the ridiculously crowded grocery store. Normally you would have been mortified - probably would have left the cart and ventured off to grab what you needed sans basket - but you don’t have the time to be concerned about the looks you’re getting as you walk fast down the aisles. 

When your sister asked you for help organizing a family halloween party, you didn’t realize she meant an actual little community family friendly party for the street she lived on.

You had gotten two frozen pizzas, a bag of candy, a case of soda, and some random bags of chips you were sure your nieces would love, just last night. That would have certainly been enough for you, your nieces, and both your sisters, but unfortunately, that wasn’t where the guest list ended. 

The look on her face when you showed up to her house with just those few things would have been funny if she wasn’t already on the brink of a breakdown.

Her husband was out of town for work and she was doing all the halloween prep for Sid herself, thus why she enlisted your help with the party and your younger sister’s help for the trick or treating plans.

Before she could snap and completely lose her cool on you, you were already rushing to the front door, keys still in hand, promising you’d be back within the hour and she had nothing to worry about.

That’s how you found yourself among the crowd of the woefully unprepared this afternoon. 

You loaded the cart with six more frozen pizzas, three family servings of the deli’s hot and ready fried chicken, two packs of halloween cupcakes, two more cases of soda, an extra case of water, and three boxes of capri suns before you started filling the cart with the halloween party snacks you found in the holiday section. 

You were getting a workout as you pushed the basket, less shaky now thanks to the added weight, heading to the candy section to grab a few bags of whatever they had left.

You were distracted by the end cap display as you turned down the aisle and didn’t see the man standing right in front of you, accidentally running into him. Though, running into him sounds like an exaggeration. With how heavy your basket was, and how sturdy the man before you was, it was more like a bump - a love tap. He didn’t even really react to it aside from looking over briefly to you and your basket.

Even still, you apologized profusely, rambling an apology about not looking where you were going before you finally got an actual look at your victim. 

Your words stopped almost abruptly when your eyes met with crystal blues. His stare was icy, but not cold, moreso piercing.

He blinked and broke your trance, offering you a shy smile before he looked away.

“It’s okay, you’re fine,” he said, eyes fixed back on the shelves of candy.

He was dressed in dark denim jeans and a black crewneck sweatshirt, his hair was dark and down to just above his broad shoulders, and the stubble that lined his strong jaw suited him well. You didn’t realize you were staring again until he looked back up at you.

You forced yourself to smile then, ignoring the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and rising to your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you offered with a nervous laugh before you forced the cart behind where he stood to go onward. 

You could have sworn you saw a blush rising to his cheeks as he smiled to himself, avoiding your gaze, but you weren’t entirely sure. 

And you definitely didn’t have the time to ponder on it.

Instead, you began your own search of the shelves to find not only your nieces’ favorites, but your sisters’, too. 

They were both working hard to make their kids’ halloween a good one, they deserved a little treat themselves when all the work was done. You, on the other hand, still single and child free, were planning on treating yourself all night. You were there to help, sure, but most of the work wouldn’t be done by you. You were looking forward to seeing them off to trick or treat and plopping down on your sister’s couch to watch movies for the rest of the night - handing out candy, of course, should any kids come by.

Once the party was set up and over, you’d be free for the night and you couldn’t wait.

You were lucky to find most of what you were looking for, but couldn’t seem to find the last kind of chocolates you wanted to get. 

As your eyes scoured the shelves, you found yourself looking back over to where the handsome stranger still stood. His brows were furrowed as he held up two boxes of full size candy bars, seeming to be debating between the two.

The look of concentration on his face was endearing, you could almost chuckle at how serious in thought he seemed to be over candy.

You smiled to yourself, returning to your search. As your eyes left the man, traveling instead to the rows of candy in front of him, that was when you saw the bag you needed. In the section right where he was standing, because of course they’d be there. 

He huffed in exasperation before you watched him drop both boxes of candy into his cart. He turned to head down the aisle in your direction and his eyes widened slightly when he saw you still standing there.

“Oh, sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I.”

“No, you’re fine!” You assured him as you left your basket, walking closer to him. “I just needed to grab this,” you said, looking up with the bag in hand. He hadn’t moved from where he stood as you approached, so you were inadvertently in his personal space - but he didn’t make any attempt to move from you. In fact, he looked almost frozen. 

His bright eyes were on you, one hand on his cart, the other clenched by his side. He seemed to go a bit ridge at your proximity, like he didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but he relaxed after a second after seeing your soft smile, blinking at you as his cheeks burned. 

You quickly backed away, hoping to not make him more uncomfortable and to not embarrass yourself further.

You grabbed onto your cart and looked his way once more, meeting his eye again as his sights were already on you. 

You smiled shyly, “Sorry, again, for hitting you,” you offered, “happy halloween.”

He didn’t respond verbally, but he did give you a small nod of acknowledgement.

Your smile grew tighter before you turned and made for the check out, sighing as you rolled your eyes at yourself, mentally chastising yourself for being such an awkward inducing mess. 

The lines were long and as you waited, you had to field a call from your sister, promising her you were checking out and would be back at her house soon.

You finally got through the line and were on your way out the sliding door when your cart almost crashed into another. You gasped as you pulled at your cart to stop, the heavy weight carrying it forward, its momentum causing it to almost ram right into the cart beside it.

The doors were only big enough for one cart to go through at a time, so you looked up to offer whoever it was you almost crashed into the lead.

It was your turn for your eyes to widen as you once again were met with those piercing blues.

“I am so sorry, I’m not doing this on purpose, I swear,” you laughed nervously, backing up a bit so he’d have room to go through the doors. “Go for it,” you said.

He shook his head, “Please,” he gestured for you to go in front, “ladies first.”

Had you not been in a hurry, you would’ve argued that he should go ahead, but seeing as your phone was lighting up with messages from your erratic sister, you smiled and pushed on forward. “Thank you,” you breathed.

You were trying not to pay attention as he followed behind you, but when you got to your car, halting your basket at your trunk, you couldn’t help but notice as he stopped next to you.

You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. He smiled this time, popping his trunk, “What are the odds?”

You tittered, not knowing how to respond. You couldn’t help your smile though as you turned back to your trunk and started putting the bags in.

He himself didn’t have much in the way of bags, and was finished putting his stuff away and taking his cart back by the time you were halfway done putting your stuff in your car.

You saw as he approached his door from your peripheral, and looked up and over in his direction as he abruptly stopped just before he was about to pull open his door.

For a second, he looked like he was about to turn around but then thought better of it, reaching for the door handle again before pulling away once more. 

He squeezed his car keys in his hand before he turned back around, completely this time. You blinked at him, in a bit of a stupor as he came up to you. You waited for him to speak as he opened his mouth before quickly shutting it, taking a breath, then anxiously licking his lips.

“I’m Bucky,” he introduced himself a bit stiffly before his lip quirked up in a nervous half smile. Your brows raised of their own volition before you gave him your name in turn.

He seemed to be relieved by your reply, as if he was worried you would have ignored him, before he took another step closer to your car. “Can I give you a hand?”

“Oh, uhm, sure. That’d be great, thanks.”

“Big plans for the night?” he asked as he slid the packs of soda and the water into the car.

“My sister is hosting a little halloween party for the families on her street before they head out trick or treating tonight, I’m helping her out with setup and food. But after that,” you sighed, putting a few more bags in, “I’m planning on just watching movies between trick or treaters. Nothing crazy. You?” you asked, looking over to him.

“I’m planning pretty much the same. I don’t know how many trick or treaters to expect, I’m new to the neighborhood and… maybe haven’t been the friendliest neighbor,” he cringed to himself as he grabbed the boxes of juice. “But I got the full size candy bars, so…”

“Sprung for the full size, huh? I’m sure those kids’ll love it. You’ll be the talk of the block,” you joked.

His chuckle had you smiling so hard you had to bite your lip to keep from looking like an idiot.

Bucky took the last of the bags from you and set them carefully down before he closed the trunk for you. You were hanging onto the cart, waiting to say bye before you walked it to its home, as he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets before he spoke. He had that anxious look on his face again, his eyes down at the ground while he licked his lips mindlessly before he met your eye.

“I, uhm,” he seemed to register where his hands were then and took them out of his pockets, “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, but, did you maybe, want to exchange numbers?” he asked, bright blue eyes bearing into yours.

Your lips parted unbidden, eyebrows raising in surprise, or more like shock, as your eyes widened.

“You- you want my number?” you asked stupidly. You didn’t give him a chance to answer though before you continued, “Uhm, yeah,” you nodded, “sure.”

The delicate smile on your lips grew as you reached for your phone.

You exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes before you were finally headed back to your sister’s place.

You were smiling like a fool as you drove, a sense of giddy taking over you. This kind of stuff never happened to you. You were still in a bit of disbelief as you pulled into your sister’s driveway, calling her to help you unload but deciding against telling her about your little grocery store meet cute. At least until the party was underway and her stress levels came down.

—

Grumpy. 

That’s the word you would use to describe your current state.

This was not how tonight was supposed to go. You should be lounging on a couch watching scary movies with a bowl full of candy right now, not clopping down the street in your wedges - a last minute costume thrown together as your niece held your hand and pulled you along with her while your sisters and baby niece strolled behind.

Sidney had thrown a fit when she learned you wouldn’t be coming along for trick or treating and only calmed down when you finally relented and agreed. But of course, you couldn’t just go out in what you were already wearing, no, that would be too easy. You absolutely needed a costume. 

At your sisters’ and niece’s goading, you were forced to put something together. 

You were already in all black, so you snagged the leftover cat ear headband your sister had and made your already done eye look a little more exaggerated. You all left soon after, your niece’s jubilance as she skipped out of the house easing your annoyance at the change of plans. As you started down the driveway, you were cursing yourself for not having brought your sneakers, and your sisters for both having smaller feet than you.

You walked up to house after house with your niece, taking turns switching who was going up to the door every two or three houses. In between houses, you finally told your sisters about the guy you met at the store earlier, how attractive he was, how he helped you load your car, and how he asked for your number before you went your separate ways.

It was nice to be able to talk with them about it, it had been a long time since it had been just the three of you together - no obnoxious boyfriends or overly talkative husbands to interrupt your conversations. You had to say, you were starting to feel a bit more grateful for your niece’s insistence on you joining them.

As you talked to your little sister while she held her daughter, you both watched as your niece tugged on her mom’s hand, refusing to go up the pathway of the house you were now at. As you looked around, you realized everyone else seemed to be avoiding the house, too. You weren’t sure why, though. The porch light was on and there was a cute, though solitary, ghost decoration that would greet you as you walked up the path to the house. 

“What is up with that?” you asked aloud.

As your older sister walked back over, she answered your question. “She doesn’t wanna go, she says it’s haunted.”

You fixed your niece with a look, “What do you mean haunted? Who told you that?”

“Evan and Fifi. They said the metal man lives here and he kills anyone who tries to come in.”

“The metal man, huh? Well,” you said, making a point of looking all around the front of the house, “it looks to me like whoever lives here is ready to pass out candy to anyone brave enough to knock. The lights are on, and did you see the ghost up front? They’re probably just as excited about Halloween as you are.”

“No.” she responded flatly.

“No?” you scoffed. “Ohhh, okay,” you exaggerated, “I get it, you’re too scared to go. That’s all you had to say, Sid, no shame.”

“I’m not scared,” she argued, her face scrunched in annoyance at your insult.

“Really? If you’re not scared then why won’t you go knock on the door?”

She floundered for a second before she narrowed her gaze at you. You wanted to laugh at the low growl that radiated from her but held it together. 

“We’ll all go,” she finally decided, looking all three of you in the eyes to make sure you were all ready to accompany her.

—

It had been two hours since the trick or treaters had started their nights. 

Bucky could hear the laughter and screams of playful fright as family after family and group after group of friends passed by his house. 

The bowl of king size candy bars sat on his coffee table untouched as It played on his screen. 

Every now and again he’d get up and look out the kitchen window, hoping to see a dead street to make himself feel better about the lack of trick or treaters, but only found the streets full of people.

The more time that passed without a single knock or ringing of his bell, the worse he felt. 

He could lie and say he didn’t know why he was taking this so hard, he wasn’t one to complain about his solitude, but truthfully, he knew why.

He had heard the neighbor kids talking about him the other week, telling tales of horror about the metal man who lived next door. If seeing his arm was all it took to spur their tales and ignite their fear of him, God, he didn’t even want to know what would come if they found out even a little bit of his past. 

And if it wasn’t the kids starting their own urban legend at his expense, it was the adults who would gossip about him at their backyard barbecues. The mysterious man who lived alone and kept to himself was an easy target for lowly neighborhood gossip, and the few people who had pieced together who he was seemed to be tight lipped about it. Anytime they saw him in public, their eyes would bug and they would quickly avert their gaze, like they were scared what would happen if he knew they knew. It’s not like his identity was a secret, but he wasn’t planning on striking up a conversation with them to let them know that. Especially not when they looked at him like that. Like he was some kind of monster.

Even still, he didn’t want to be the social pariah on the block. He hated to think that anyone was scared or weary of him, though he knew most of them were.

He sighed heavily as he checked the time once again. 

So much for that ghost helping to dispel his bad reputation. He’d be requesting the money he spent on it from Sam later, it was his idea for him to get halloween decorations in the first place. He should have known it wouldn’t have helped.

As his phone unlocked with his FaceID, he was tempted to send a message to the woman he’d met earlier in the day. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he hadn’t felt so disarmed by someone in a very long time. And the fact that she was gorgeous, and didn’t seem the least bit frightened by him, was a nice feeling, too. 

But she was probably watching movies and relaxing by now, he didn’t want to be a disturbance. Tomorrow, though. He’d definitely be messaging her tomorrow.

Another sigh left him as he locked his phone again, tossing it on the coffee table before making his decision.

Bucky paused the movie before he stood, bowl in hand, prepared to take it to the kitchen and shut his porch light off on his way upstairs. It was only gonna get later and he had to accept that no one was going to trick or treat at his house this year.

But just as he was setting the bowl down on the table, he froze.

Was someone actually coming up the porch?

He swore he was just hearing things…but then came a knock.

—

“You can’t just stand there, Sid, you have to knock or ring the bell, pick one.”

“No.”

“Ugh,” you exaggerated with an eye roll, turning to look at your older sister, “you live with this everyday?”

“Everyday,” she replied.

“Sid, if you don’t knock, you don’t get candy,” you told her.

“If I don’t knock, I don’t get murdered.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll do it myself,” you shrugged, adjusting the cat ears on your head.

You raised your arm to knock on the door, but Sid stopped you, pulling it back down.

“I don’t want you to get murdered, either!”

“Sidney,” you laughed, kneeling to get on her level, “I promise you, no one is going to get murdered. This house isn’t haunted and a murderer doesn’t live here.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” your little sister chimed in, earning a glare from you before you couldn’t help your laugh, shaking your head before turning back to your niece.

“I just met Evan and Fifi at the party, and I know for a fact they were just trying to scare all of you guys. I doubt they’ve ever met whoever it is that lives here. Now, do you trust me?”

Her reluctant nod was your answer.

“Okay. Then I’m gonna knock on the door, and we’re gonna get some candy. Cool?”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” you nodded with a smile before standing back up.

Sid inched back to stand in front of her mom, pulling her arm to hide herself behind as you once again went to knock on the door, this time following through.

You knocked and heard footsteps from within, smiling as you waited for the homeowner to open the door.

Once it opened, though, you found yourself completely taken aback. 

Your breath caught in your throat as a newly familiar pair of brilliant blue eyes met yours.

Bucky stood at the open door, bowl of full size candy bars in hand. He looked just as surprised to see you there as you were him. 

He tilted his head at you, a lopsided grin spreading on his face.

“Trick or treat!” Sidney yelled, seeing the big bars and coming to stand in front of you.

Bucky looked down, smiling as he showed her the bowl, “Happy Halloween,” he said, allowing her to pick which one she wanted.

“I know how this looks, but I swear I’m not stalking you,” you promised.

“I don’t know, it seems like a lotta coincidences for just one day,” he smirked, cooly leaning against his door frame. “Nice costume,” he complimented.

“Ha, thanks,” you smiled, touching the cat ears once again. “Nice ghost,” you nodded toward the lonely decoration, “Really livens up the place,” you teased. 

“That was the intention,” he laughed, a little too glumly for your liking. “You guys are actually the first trick or treaters I’ve had all night, so I guess it didn’t really do its job.”

“Sorry, you guys know each other?” your sister asked.

“Yeah, uh,” you turned briefly, “this is Bucky,” you said.

“Bucky from the grocery store, Bucky?” your little sister asked.

You gave her a look you hoped Bucky didn’t see before answering, “Yes. That Bucky.”

Your sisters introduced themselves to him and as he switched the candy bowl from his right hand to his left, extending his palm to shake their hands, you noticed a glimmer coming from  his left side.

You moved over a bit to allow them room to shake hands and as you looked closer, you realized that, peculiarly enough, his left hand wasn’t made of flesh. 

You scoffed a laugh to yourself at his “metal man” moniker. That made some sense now… In fact, a few things were clicking into place. Bucky, you thought…Bucky Barnes? The Bucky Barnes. You wondered how you hadn’t noticed earlier, not that it mattered, but you were staring, like kind of a lot, at him when you met at the store, and even when he was helping load your groceries. You really must have been distracted by just how gorgeous his face is.

Now that you were really looking at him again, you noticed just how built he was. Strong arms, solid chest, nearly six foot tall if you had to guess. 

Your sister’s laugh brought you back to reality as you followed her gaze to Sid who was now taking a bunch of bars from Bucky’s bowl as he held it out for her again.

“I doubt anyone is coming my way again, so please, take what you want,” he offered to all of you.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you smiled as your sisters each took a bar of their own. “We’ll uh, let you get back to your movie,” you said, remembering his plans for tonight.

“The movie, yeah. I think I might have to start it over, actually. I went on my phone for a minute and looked up to see a blood covered bathroom but I have no idea how they got there,” he huffed a laugh at himself.

“Oh, what are you watching?” your little sister asked.

“It,”

“It? No way, that’s so funny. That’s the movie you were gonna watch before we left tonight, isn’t it?” your older sister asked knowingly, a smirk no one but you and your younger sister would ever catch flashing for a microsecond on her lips as she looked at you pointedly.

“Yeah,” you swallowed thickly, “it is,” you said, trying not to let the awkwardness that was eating at you consume you entirely.

“You should stay and watch it,” your little sister suggested, to your complete and utter mortification. Your eyes shot over to her, and you swear, if looks could kill. 

“I’m not just going to invite myself-”

“Come on, like he minds,” she turned to look at Bucky then, her hands still on her stroller holding her baby, “you don’t mind, do you?”

You peek over at Bucky, unsure of how you would even react if you were in his position. He met your eye and his lips quirked in a soft smile. “Not at all. If you wanted to, that is,” he added, offering you an out.

You looked at him a moment before looking over to your smugly smiling sisters and your niece as she tore into one of her candy bars, standing safely between the two of them. You inhaled sharply before looking back to a waiting Bucky. 

You nodded.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Sounds…fun.”

“Great, well we were heading back anyway. So, see you later?” you sister bid. 

“Or not,” your little sister added teasingly before she shot her gaze over to Bucky once more. “But we do have her location, just so you know,” she added seriously, a hint of a warning in her words.

“Ooo-kay,” you said, breaking the forthcoming tension, “I will text you guys when I’m on my way back,” you told them, urging them to get going.

“It was nice to meet you, Bucky. I trust my sister will get home safe,” your sister said directly.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he responded gallantly while your face felt as if it was literally on fire.

What was this, it was like your parents were dropping you off for your first date in high school. But somehow worse.

She nodded, “And thank you for the candy. Sidney,” she called, getting her daughter’s attention, “what do we say?”

“Thank you! Happy Halloween!”

“You’re very welcome,” Bucky smiled. “Happy Halloween.”

—

It wasn’t long before you found yourself sitting on Bucky’s couch, a glass of water you had desperately needed sitting before you on the coffee table and Bucky sitting to the left of you, but keeping a respectable distance.

“I’m really sorry about my sisters, by the way. They can be a lot,” you huffed a laugh.

“Don’t be,” he brushed off, “It’s nice to see, honestly.”

You looked over at him, he seemed a bit forlorn before he came back to himself. 

“You know, my niece was almost too scared to come to your door. She said this house is haunted, that ‘the metal man’ lives here and kills anyone who tries to enter.”

“Ah, I see word travels fast when it comes to children.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of like their own urban legend.”

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully as you laughed, lifting a leg up to cross under your thigh as you turned to face him on the couch.

“What?” you asked, “Don’t you want to be an urban legend?”

“Not really,” he laughed with a shake of his head, turning to face you better as well. “Especially not when it leaves me with bowls full of king sized candy bars no one seems to want.”

There’s a pause before he continues,

“Honestly… I don’t like knowing people are scared of me. I mean I’ve known, for a long time, that they are, it’s just.. Different when you can see that fear on their faces, in person.”

You didn’t even realize you were moving as you scooted in closer to him while he spoke.

“I thought the city was bad, but ever since I moved out here, it’s all so much more intimate. The stares are a lot more pointed.” He laughed humorlessly at himself, “I heard a couple kids talking about my arm a few weeks ago and tried to tell myself I didn’t care, but I’ve been wearing nothing but long sleeves every time I go outside now. 

“I’m not ashamed of it,” he said quickly to clarify, “I just, I don’t want them to have to be scared of me.”

“They shouldn’t be scared of you just because you have a prosthetic arm,” you argued, knowing they surely knew nothing else of who he was, “and their parents should probably be leading by better examples.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “what can you do?” He swallowed the lump in his throat that was forming at your defense of him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring all this up-”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s on me. I am incredibly skilled at killing conversations before they even begin.”

“I don’t know about that. You don’t know me well yet, so you don’t know how big of a deal this is, but, I like talking to you,” he smiled. 

You had to look away from his gaze, breathing a laugh as you did. 

The movie was playing on screen, but neither of you were paying any attention to it as you continued talking.

Each time Bucky laughed at your lame jokes, you swore you felt like you were flying. You talked about everything and nothing. You got to know each other better, asking questions about life and preferences and favorites and what-ifs. The conversation flowed so easily, you never even really had to think about what to say next. That definitely wasn’t usual for you, and you liked it. You liked him.

Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned flirty, and again, it was completely effortless. 

Your knees were pressing against one another as you sat across from each other, almost side by side on the couch.

You laughed in unison at a cheesy line Bucky tried on you before a jump scare on the screen had you quite literally jumping. Without thought, you leaned into Bucky, and he had no qualms about it as you hid your face in his shoulder.

He laughed lightly, his arm coming around you and gently rubbing your back before you forced yourself to pull away. His warmth was so nice and welcoming, but if you didn’t back up, you would’ve tried to nuzzle right into his side - you couldn’t risk the embarrassment.

As you turned back to sit next to him though, he kept his arm around you and tugged you in a bit closer. 

You briefly wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, because you definitely could. You thought it might beat out of your chest at any moment as his warm cologne invaded your senses.

“Sorry, I guess I just assumed you liked scary movies,” he laughed.

“Ya know what’s funny is I actually hate scary movies,” you told him, “the It movies are some of the very few that don’t scare me.”

“Oh, that was you not being scared?” he smirked with a raised brow.

“That was- it just, it caught me off guard,” you defended with a smile, absentmindedly leaning more into his hold.

You had never gotten so close to someone in such a short amount of time, emotionally or physically. 

It was foreign, but you enjoyed it. It may have been sudden, but it didn’t feel rushed. 

“You get scared easily?” he asked.

“I’m the biggest scaredy cat I know,” you admitted. “I’m not hard to get a jump out of, I get scared of literally everything,” you laughed at yourself.

You turned to look at him when he didn’t say anything and felt your breath catch in your throat for the second time that night. He was so close to you now, and his eyes were piercing as he took you in, lingering on your lips and sending a chill through you.

The energy between you seemed to shift from something light and playful to something more charged, deliberate.

Your eyes drifted to his lips despite yourself, too.

He leaned in just a touch closer to you and your lips were mere inches away as he spoke,

“You’re not scared of me,” he said, though you weren’t sure if it was a question or not. Still, you responded as if it were.

Leaning in, brushing your lips against his, you breathed, “No.”

His hand was on your head then, keeping you close to him as he pressed his lips against yours, it was fervent, yet delicate, as your lips moved against one another. 

You moved a hand to hold onto his left shoulder and he tugged your body to move you completely over his lap while he continued to lead the kiss.

His metal hand found its way to your plush waist as he held you, squeezing you lightly and inadvertently causing you to sink down lower into his lap while your upper body melted into him.

His hand slid from your waist to your ass, grabbing you through your leggings, kneading your ample flesh in his large palm.

You moaned into his mouth and that seemed to spur him on because in the blink of an eye you found yourself being flipped onto your back as he pinned you beneath his large body.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting, your hands fisted in his sweatshirt as his wandered your curves. 

“Do you have a bed?” you breathed, pulling him back down to be closer to you, wanting desperately to have his lips on yours once more. He nodded.

“Glad you asked,” he returned, voice low and husky.

You yelped as Bucky lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you with ease while you clung to him like your life depended on it. If he dropped you, you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover from the embarrassment. But as he began up the steps and his hold didn’t falter for a single second, you realized maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about.. He held you like you weighed nothing and honestly, it sent a new wave of arousal through you as he reached the door of his bedroom.

He tossed you down on his bed carefully, but stopped you before you could begin tugging your leggings down your thick thighs. 

You looked at him, confused and with a touch of worry you were about to be rejected.

“I’m sorry,” he began, “I should’ve said this before I brought you up here,”

That did nothing to ease your worry…

“I really like you. And I think there could be something real here between us, I don’t want to ruin that. So if you were only here for one night,-”

“I really like you, too,” you cut him off, eyes gleaming into his, “And I think you’re right, I don’t wanna ruin it either. I wasn’t planning for this to be a one night stand, but if you want to take things slower, I don’t have a problem with that.”

“No, I’m good with where we were heading, I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t want this to be just tonight.”

You nodded, a little breathless as you smiled up at him. 

“Same page, then.”

“Good,” he grinned before pushing you to lie back on his bed as he descended upon you. 

His lips were on your neck and as he sucked on your sweet spot, you couldn’t contain the soft moan that passed your lips. 

His hands found the waistband of your bottoms and he pulled them down as much as he could manage before you lifted your hips and wiggled a bit to assist him in getting them off of you. 

You pulled impatiently at the buckle of his jeans, earning a chuckle from him before he got to work taking them off. 

While he got rid of his jeans, you pulled your shirt up and over your head, catching on the cat ears you had forgotten you were wearing. You threw them all to the side, unclasping your bra as Bucky shrugged his sweatshirt off over his head in turn.

He was back on top of you in an instant, pulling your bra off of you and tossing it to land with the rest of your discarded clothes off the side of the bed.

His large hands immediately went to your breasts, admiring the soft, heavy feel of them in his hands while he palmed them, squeezing slightly as he felt you.

You mewled under his attention, eyes closed in delight as his touch only added fuel to the fire burning in your core. 

When he leaned down and took a pert nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking on your tit, your hand found his hair as you gasped at the sensation, holding him to you, enjoying the feeling of his mouth on your breasts.

You could feel the wetness growing between your legs as he continued to have his fun, unconsciously rutting his thick cock against you when you’d moan for him.

As he traveled down your body, his hands following your curves and his lips kissing every inch of you that he could, he paid special attention to your tummy before he traveled even lower. 

You were a writhing mess as you felt his warm breath on your folds. When your hips bucked up into his face and you felt his lips brushing your cunt, you whined obscenely at the feeling. Bucky laughed tauntingly, holding your hips back down as he poked his tongue out past his plump lips, lightly licking your folds and your sensitive clit as you gripped his hair and urged him closer, wanting, needing more.

He finally took mercy on you after a long, torturous minute, spreading you open for him before he ate you out like a man starved. 

His tongue glided all over your slick cunt, dipping in and out of your tight entrance, before coming back up to flick your clit. 

He drew figure eights over the sensitive bud and you swore you were about to come undone from that alone, but when he sunk his thick digits into your dripping pussy, curling them just right, rubbing against that special spot perfectly, you were seeing stars as your thighs threatened to clamp around his head while you shook from your orgasm. Your walls clamped down on his fingers as you came and he moaned at the feeling as he worked you through the high, more than ready to finally get his cock inside you.

“Doll, you look so gorgeous like this,” he admired as he held himself above you, “naked and sweaty beneath me. Like a fucking goddess,” he praised, grabbing his erection and positioning himself at your entrance. 

“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked, running his cockhead up and down your dripping slit. 

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you moaned pathetically, spreading your legs as wide as you could for him.

“Mm, I love the way you say my name, doll,” he groaned as he pushed just his tip inside your tight cunt, moving in and out of you as you whined for him.

“God, please, Bucky, please fuck me! I want it so bad,” you whimpered. “I wanna feel you fill me up, please.”

The growl that left his throat had your pussy fluttering, squeezing around nothing before he finally gave you what you wanted.  With one hard, deep stroke, he was fully seated inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you gasped sharply, your hands gripping onto him wherever you could as he began to set his pace. With every thrust of his hips into you, he was hitting deeper and deeper inside your cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” you cried.

“There you go, sweetheart. Take all ‘a my cock inside this tight pussy, taking me so fuckin’ well,” his hands were tight on your hips as he fucked into you. “This what you wanted, doll?” he panted, his pace never faltering as he fucked you harder, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his balls hitting your cunt with his every thrust filled the room, mingled with your moans and whimpers and his grunts and growls. “Wanted this big dick to stretch you out, huh? Wanted to feel me fill you up with my hot cum til I’m dripping outta you.”

One of his hands left your hip and instead went to grab at your breasts again, his large hand palming your tit as he squeezed and kneaded, flicking his thumb over your nipple and only adding to the pleasure threatening to send you over the edge.

“God, yes! Please, fucking yes, Bucky, please, please, please, please” you begged pathetically, reaching a hand down to find your clit, working your bud in circles as your walls tightened around his thick cock. 

Your eyes were about to roll into the back of your head as you moaned senselessly, Bucky’s hand leaving your chest and nudging your own away from your clit. He replaced your hand and circled your clit perfectly as he continued rolling his hips into yours, his pace growing more erratic and the words leaving his beautiful lips growing filthier the closer he got to his own end. 

With one perfectly angled thrust, you were crying as your body shook at the intensity of your orgasm. Wave after wave of nerve tingling pleasure lighting you up as you rode out the high. Your toes curled, legs wrapped around him as much as they could be while he grabbed at your body, falling down closer to you as he moaned, holding your body tighter as he pumped his hips, “Fuck,” he growled as he pushed himself as deep inside of you as he could, his eyes squeezing shut, holding himself there as he came, his body shaking some as he attempted to thrust once more. 

You moaned at the feeling of him painting your walls, your hands in his hair as he buried his face in your neck, holding him to you. He stayed inside of you for a long minute as you both panted, trying to catch your breath, while he ensured he got all of his load out before he finally pushed himself up off of you, gently sliding out of you.

He flipped over next to you, laying on his back before he pulled you into him. Your hand rested on his chest as you laid in his left arm.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed, your fingers playing in his chest hair mindlessly as you worked to catch your breath.

His hand was running up and down your side soothingly as he moved to try and meet your eye.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’m better than okay, honestly. That was…amazing.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he smiled, “but still, I’m sorry if I got carried away. I tend to run my mouth when I’m, uh,” he fumbled with his words, “ya know, in the moment.” 

He looked so bashful, you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his expression.

“You just said all of what you just said, but you had trouble with that?” you tittered, rubbing his chest before turning further into him, laying on your side as he stayed on his back, propping his right hand under his head as he relaxed into the position. “But really, Bucky, you don’t have to apologize. I don’t know if you could tell, but…I really liked it,” you simpered sensually.

Bucky smiled at you as you leaned up to meet his lips in a soft kiss. 

“It’s probably way late now, right?” you asked as you pulled away from him. “I should probably head back.”

Bucky sat up after you, “Do you have to?” he asked softly.

You looked back at him, his blue eyes set on you. You nipped at your lower lip before shaking your head lightly. A new, sweeter excitement washing over you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you could stay for the night,” he offered. “I was hoping I could take you for breakfast in the morning?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes as he waited for your response. That giddiness you felt earlier came over you once again as you held his gaze.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

[reiding-writing]

hello!!!! could i get a continuation fic for "breaking the ice"? this time it could be like after a hard case and reader actively seeks out spencer for comfort (CONGRATS ON 1K FOLLOWERS!!! <33)

BREAKING DOWN [CLIMACTERIC]

/ˈbreɪ.kɪŋ daʊn/

spencer just wants to be there for you when you need him, but you get overwhelmed by his constant worrying and push him away, only to crawl right back into his embrace when you really need it.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, reader is mean to spencer in the beginning but apologises later, child death, guilt, reader having an emotional breakdown, angst to hurt/comfort

spencer x cold!reader | hurt/comfort | 2.4k | climacteric event

a/n: hit two birds with one stone for this one, god sometimes i forget how much i like writing characters suffering man-

this fic is a continuation of ‘breaking the ice’, but can be read as a stand alone!

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!

climacteric event masterlist!!

You felt like an idiot the first time Spencer caught you crying, failing to compose yourself in the office bathroom for no good reason and looking like an absolute wreck because your brain had just decided it wanted to ruin your day.

There’d been a few times since then when he’d caught you on the brink of a breakdown, but you’d masked them better the more he tried to look into your psyche.

“It’s okay not to be okay sometimes,” He said those few months ago. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

That was all said and good but it didn’t mean that you wanted him to be there whenever you were overwhelmed or emotional. Sometimes you needed the space to work through your emotions on your own.

“Reid. Leave me alone.” You turn to him sharply, impatience written all over your features.

He’d been asking you about your emotions for the past fifteen minutes after noticing you turn down one of the sugary treats Garcia had brought into the office and using the small amount of favouritism you had towards him as leeway in terms of you not getting angry.

But you had your breaking point even with him.

The harshness spilling from your lips wasn’t something that was ever directed at him, so much so that it actually took him a second to register that it was him you were snapping at and not some invisible person standing behind him.

He didn’t even have time to respond to you. You were already around the corner by the time he’d come back to his senses.

He didn’t bother you after that.

At all.

There was no small talk at the beginning of the office days, no conversations on the jet between cases. He stopped waiting for you before leaving the office and picking you up coffee on days he knew you’d be late.

It threw you back in time to the first few years of working with him. And it seemed that the rest of the team was feeling the inherent ‘nostalgia’ as well, and not in a good way.

The small lingering glances and silent conversations you’d engage in had completely disappeared, and not having Spencer has the bridge of proper communication between you and the rest of the team made merging your psychological profile with the main behavioural profile for your most recent case three steps longer than it needed to be.

Because he was basically refusing to speak to you. Following your instructions to a T.

It didn’t help that it was a child case either. You always seemed to have issues with those. You worked twice as fast, but also made twice as many mistakes, and without someone like Spencer to filter your thoughts through to make sure that they were all objective it meant that your profile was lagging behind.

The child you were looking for died before you found him.

And by the time you’d reached the jet to fly back to Virginia, you’d already internalised his death as your fault.

You kept yourself together through the airport, through boarding and take-off and until you watched your team members fall into a blanket of uneasy sleep as everyone tried to brush off the emotional wreckage that they’d seen over the last few days and detach themselves from the child they’d failed to save.

You were usually pretty good at that part.

Separating yourself from your work came naturally for you, and it was something you were extremely grateful for when getting rest after a particularly hard case. But children were different.

They always were. Especially when it felt like you had a personal hand in their death.

With an internal sigh you accepted your fate of staring at the beige walls of the jet’s cabin until you inevitably couldn’t take it anymore and barricaded yourself in the bathroom for the remainder of the flight.

Now’s about the time where you’d probably distract yourself by starting Spencer on a tangent. Getting him to talk about something that was completely unrelated to the case you’d just sat through to drown out the voices inside of your head and allow you to rest peacefully despite yourself.

But you couldn’t do that right now.

Half because Spencer was already asleep and half because you’d pushed him away.

And now you had to lie in the hole you’d created for yourself.

You didn’t even end up making it into the bathroom.

You curled your legs up into yourself in the corner chair you’d bagged yourself, rested your elbows on your knees, and covered your face with your palms as the tears started a steady flow down your cheeks.

It was honestly one of the worst feelings in the world. Curled up into yourself with your hands cupped over your mouth to keep your staggered breathing quiet enough to not wake the other agents sleeping around the cabin.

As you sat there, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket, you couldn't shake the feeling of regret for pushing Spencer away.

His concern was always genuine, his presence a source of comfort even when you didn't realise you needed it. Now, in the silence of the jet cabin, his absence felt like a void.

Each tear that slipped from your eyes felt like another weight added to the burden you were already carrying.

The familiar ache in your chest threatened to consume you as you struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to spill over and wake your teammates.

Despite the exhaustion pulling at your bones, sleep remained unobtainable, lost in the emotional maze of regret and self-blame that you’d managed to lose yourself in to the point where you couldn’t even stand up to give yourself some privacy.

You felt utterly alone, isolated by your own actions in every sense of the word. Each passing minute stretched on for what felt like hours, dragging you deeper into the abyss of your thoughts.

You weren’t quiet enough apparently, and you hear a small shift from the long sofa to your right as your emotional breakdown seemingly catches someone’s ears to the point where they’ve woken up.

“…are-” Spencer’s voice is quiet and mildly groggy as he wakes from the sounds of your internal anguish, and he cuts himself off before getting his whole question out.

You wanted him to leave you alone.

“sorry…” He shifts onto his side until his back is facing you, not wanting to pry if you were uncomfortable with it but also not willing to watch you break down if he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.

“I’m not okay Reid…” Your words are caught in between stunted breaths and shaking movements. “I need help-”

Your words sent an ache right through his heart that made him think it was going to split in two. He can hear the tremor in your voice, the shakiness in your tone as you force yourself to be vulnerable with him. And it makes him want to join you in a fit of tears.

If you were actively reaching out like this, it had to be bad.

“I know…” His voice is barely above a whisper as he slowly turns his body, still hesitant to look you in the eyes but wanting to see your expression.

He doesn’t know if you want comfort or advice, but he knows which he’d prefer to give as his eyes land on your face and take in the sight of you, curled up into yourself with tear stains tracking down your cheeks in the cabin’s low lighting.

“But I don’t know how to…” The silence is the worst part of the conversation from his end of things – a silence that was deafeningly loud. His eyes dart between the cabin door and you.

But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t get up, or get closer. He just stays put.

He doesn’t know what to do.

“Tell me how to help you…”

“I don’t-” You barely get the chance to start speaking before your crying renders you effectively mute, your throat filled with sobs that leave your mouth into the palm of your hand as you attempt to silence yourself and not ruin anyone else’s slumber.

He can see your fingers trembling as you hold back the noise. From across the aisle, Spencer watches the way you shake until his stomach ties in a knot just from seeing you distressed.

But there’s nothing he can do.

“Can I try something?” He murmurs his words softly, like he’s afraid of frightening you further as he pulls himself upright on the couch seat to plant his feet firmly on the floor.

You answer him with a nod, too unstable to even think about trying to answer him verbally under the threat of breaking down further.

He pads across the aisle deftly, taking a seat in the chair beside your own and deftly bringing his arm across the back of your shoulders to rub lines against your back.

It’s a somewhat pathetic pat, a mix of fatigue and hesitation mixing in his movements and making his attempt at comforting you feel clumsy and mildly awkward.

But he was trying, and that was the main point.

The awkwardness really held no ground under your inherent need to just feel comforted in the moment, and you take no note of it as you turn your head into Spencer’s shoulder with your hand still cupped over your mouth as you tremble under his arms.

His hand becomes a little more confident once you accept his attempts.

He didn’t know how to help you.

He didn’t know how to soothe you.

And the thought of not being able to save you from yourself was tearing him up inside.

But the least he could do was this.

Spencer’s touch is gentle as he places his other hand onto the back of your head, fingers brushing along your hairline as he encourages you further into his embrace.

There’s nothing he should say right now, nothing he could say right now.

Whatever would come from him would be a string of false assurances he wasn’t sure he would even believe himself.

Instead, he settles for the soft touches, his gentle fingers and trying to soften your breathless sobs into something less heartwrenching.

It felt mildly awkward to be the source of someone else’s comfort — he’d usually been on the receiving end of it — but it was working, and he could slowly feel your shoulders relax under his hands, your sobs reducing to small sniffles as you calmed under Spencer’s influence.

“Breathe…” He whispered the words quietly against the top of your head, making a show of taking deep breaths that you could feel against his chest as a silent instruction for you to mirror.

The rise and fall of his chest underneath your hand was crucial in helping you slowly regulate your breathing to match his, the remnants of sniffles that caught in your throat slowly dissipating until they were non-existent.

The peak of your distress slowly eludes you as you sink down to a gradual calm, and the harsh beating of your heart against your sternum was slowly regulating itself as well until it was soft enough that it didn’t ring in your ears.

Spencer remains quiet as he continues to rub gentle lines over your spine. If he kept you him his grasp like this for long enough, your fatigue might catch up to you and make you fall asleep. And that would be alright with him.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you for trying to help me,” You air out your half-apology once you’re confident enough that speaking won’t send you down another spiral, your words muffled slightly against his shirt.

It’s a sudden break to the small pocket of silence you’d created, and Spencer’s hand pauses for a fleeting second before continuing to trace its path over your back. “You were stressed and I pushed a limit, it was understandable…”

He wouldn’t lie to you and say that everything was alright and he didn’t take it personally. It did hurt for you to be so harsh to him, but hearing you try to apologise made it feel a little better at least.

“I just wanted to help…”

“I know…” You turn your head further into his shoulder until your face is hidden in the curve of his neck. “I’m sorry,”

Your apology, voiced properly this time, elicited a small sigh from his lips, and he adjusted his arm around you to accommodate the new position you were in.

The feeling of somebody leaning on him, relying on him so much for comfort was a rather novel experience. He liked his distance, his personal space, and his preference for not being touched always trumped anything else. But this was different.

“Don’t apologise…” Spencer shakes his head against yours as he murmurs out his words. “Just rest…”

You give him a small hum as your only indication of acknowledging his suggestion, letting out a small yawn into his neck as the consequences of your emotional breakdown catch up to you and riddle your body with fatigue.

You were practically melting into him by now, your weight resting against his side, but Spencer wasn’t complaining.

It made you seem so vulnerable, so small and relaxed and different from how you usually presented yourself to the world.

Once your yawn reached his ears he knew your body was preparing to slip into unconsciousness.

But he couldn’t bring himself to move away from you.

He’d seen you fall asleep before; he’d seen the way your mouth had parted slightly right before a small snore left your lips, the delicate rise and fall of your chest as your breathing evened out and the way your eyebrows furrowed when you fell into a dream.

He didn’t want to interrupt his comfort by moving away. So he didn’t. It wouldn’t hurt to hold you for a little bit longer.

[sophvilla]

Little Menace ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 🧸^᪲᪲᪲

⋅˚₊‧ OT5 X Reader Series ‧₊˚ ⋅

Pairing: Husband! Beomgyu X PregnantWife Fem!reader Warning: General Fluff, Tooth-roting fluff, Written au, Pregnancy, Husband x Wife Genre: When Their Baby kicks for the First time

CHOI BEOMGYU | 범규

Beomgyu gets a little busy at times, but he does do his best to make time for you, especially when your pregnant with his first born.

Whenever He’s at home he brings in your weird cravings and stuffs you need even though he calls out your weird combination of cucumber and mayo, He still is there for you whenever you have a hormonal breakdown you keep having throughout the whole pregnancy.

While you blame on your husband that it’s his fault that your body is changing and getting fat, to which he clearly he refers,

“ Yes baby it's my fault that your body is transforming into a healthy safe place for our little buddy and turning you into a goddess but don’t you dare call yourself fat!! You look absolutely breathtaking as everyday passby and look I also have a baby belly”

In addition to that, He loves hanging out with you together with his group of friends as it kind of puts him at ease, knowing that you're accompanied by those people you’re comfortable to be with.

Today, He was doing some of his usual works in the studio while working on some guitar strings? Chords ? Anyways.

While you sat at lounge chatting and laughing with the other guys right outside of studio when suddenly you felt a kick at your lower abdomen causing you to gasp and telling huening kai to call Beomgyu right now.

No fiber of his being expected his youngest friend to burst into the room, grin filling his face, as he urgently call him, "Beomgyu hurry !! you have to see what just happened!"

With no hesitation, he abandons the followers and quickly follows the boy. he asks him, voice laced with concern, "is y/n okay? did something happen?"

His ‘ stupid friend ’ just giggle as they finally near your room. Kai speak up, "she is okay! but something important really did happen!"

Somehow, it sends Beomgyu more into panic, because just what happened and why is it so important to the point they had to call him?

As soon as , they are finally there, and Beomgyu wastes no time in sitting by your side, hands and eyes inspecting your body for an injury.

You giggle, "calm down, Gyu," you take his hand and guide it to your stomach, "can you feel it?"

"feel it? what do you mean-" he pauses upon the little kick against his palm. he smiles, actually grins, quietly before looking you in the eyes.

You nod with a smile of your own, while he leans down to kiss your stomach then your hand.

He rests his head against your stomach, "how are you, little buddy?"

You husband chuckles softly, "better not cause trouble for your pretty mom," his eyes lock with yours, "I hate to see her in pain or discomfort."

You roll your eyes before patting your husband's head, "you're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

"I would rather only charm you, y'know," he chuckles.

The both of you completely interrupted from your talk from the noise of gagging coming from the oldest friend of Beomgyu, Yeonjun, as He dramatically continue to gag at both of you as well as the pair of guys standing at the door way shook Their head at the oldest acting this way,

Only for Kai to pull out a camera and starts snapping a bunch of photos of the moment in front you saying he'd show this to your baby when he grows up.

Beomgyu snickers a little before teasing, “ Yeonjun Hyung, I’m starting to worry about your age these days, like seriously by the time I officially become a Dad you’d reach the age of a Grandpa, right ?"

As the oldest quirks an eyebrow at Gyu and turns towards you before saying

“ Y/n I Pray to God these days that the your child wouldn’t inherit his father traits, like I swear I can’t handle one Beomgyu already, I’m sure second one would be the death of me .”

With a soft sigh and a giggle, Beomgyu goes back to admiring you, hand rubbing circles on your stomach.

“ He’ll be just like his parents, The second Handsomest Little guy in the World, ofcourse after me !!” Beomgyu replies before receiving a smack from you and his friends.

[sweetfushi]

Hi there!! I would like to request akaashi, iwa, and kenma x reader when he caught reader simping about him to her friends eventhough they haven’t date yet..

🏕anon

HE CATCHES YOU TALKING ABOUT HIM.

fluff | keiji akaashi, hajime iwaizumi, kozume kenma x reader, mentions of a breakdown but nothing happens | word count. 1.9k ◦ notes. my first named nonnie :o

KEIJI AKAASHI.

“I’ve only ever seen him in two places; in class and in the school gym. I’ve never actually interacted with him in either one,” you admit sheepishly to your friends, who are giggling and smacking you in excitement.

“No stop! We’ve talked to him before because we know Bokuto, he’s actually super sweet! He’d totally like you if he doesn’t already– if you just talk to him!”

You practically swoon at the idea, your squeals alongside the similarly high-pitched noises of your friends reverberating through the school’s backfield. Initially you had gathered after class to have snacks and talk after school, but that turned into intense fangirling and wingwoman-ing.

“He’s so cute I could just- agh,” you whine, rubbing your palms on your eyes as you pout at the near certainty of never being able to be with him. He’s so out of your league; playing for the school’s volleyball team, being friends with one of the most popular guys in school, having the calm demeanour that practically every girl looks for in a man. If he wasn’t seeing someone already, you likely still wouldn’t be in his list of romantic options.

Alongside the aforementioned and your lack of spatial awareness, you’re entirely oblivious to the person approaching the bench you’re sitting on, until one of your friends has to grab your face to make you stop talking - stop talking about the very person who’s now observing you curiously. You don’t take the hint until you hear Akaashi clear his throat from behind you and bend down to pick up the volleyball that landed by your feet.

“Sorry about that.”

“O-Oh,” is all he receives from you in response, to which he smiles kindly. A smile that has you inches away from bursting into tears about how much you miss someone who isn’t yours.

He eyes you once more before jogging back to the corner in which he and Bokuto appeared to be practising, your eyes following him as he did so and observing his every jog and step.

Following that interaction, your group falls silent for a few seconds, until you slam your head onto the bench table and let a muffled scream rip from your throat - enough to express your humiliation but also keep it among your friends, unlike your previous conversation.

“Kill me, I can’t ever look that man in the eyes again. Do it now, quick and painless while I’m not ripping my hair out.”

One of your friends snorts out a laugh and smacks the top of your head. “Girl, as if you could ever look that man in the eyes. Don’t worry about it, he was smiling.”

At that, your head snaps up and you launch yourself across the bench until your face is centimetres away from your friend’s. “Was he really? Don’t lie to me, I didn’t see him smiling.”

She shakes her head. “That’s because you were too busy wallowing in your self-pity and staring at us to realise. He walked off like he got the biggest birthday present of his life.”

And as told, Akaashi had jogged back to Bokuto with a massive grin, rather uncharacteristic of the man who typically - at most - cracked an amused smile. Thus, when Bokuto sees him coming back with such an expression, the ball becomes the last of his concerns. He leans over to observe Akaashi closely, humming curiously.

“Did something happen?”

“Ah, nothing really. Don’t worry about it.”

“Akaashi.”

“Bokuto.”

The owl-like man groans and snatches the ball in mock frustration, to which Akaashi chuckles and gently pats him on the back. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to inform anyone that he’d started grinning at the mere sound of you giggling about the prospect of interacting with him.

HAJIME IWAIZUMI.

For the past ten minutes, you and your friends had entered a routine of squealing about the prospect of being Iwaizumi’s lover and shushing each other when the excitement became too loud. Eventually, it reached a point where the latter was no longer done - no one was supervising the volume of your swooning and dreaming.

“He’s so dreamy,” you sigh, resting your right cheek on your right fist.

“And jacked, I mean he could probably pick you up easily,” one of your friends comments, waggling her eyebrows and laughing at the drastic change of colour in your face.

You’ve interacted with Iwaizumi a few times, enough to classify him as a friend, but not enough that you’d expect to see him frequently or even anticipate him thinking about you. In actuality, the man doesn’t go a day without you crossing his mind, to the point where he starts questioning where the hell he developed his interest for you from. That’s not to say you’re not an intriguing person, just that he hadn’t had a serious conversation with you that wasn’t interrupted by something - whether that was the both of you needing to head to class or Oikawa yelling his name.

“I’m telling you, I’m getting taller, you asshat,” Iwaizumi grumbles to a very tired and sluggish Oikawa.

“And I’m telling you I don’t care whether that’s true or not as long as you’re still a reliable spiker.”

Iwaizumi smacks the top of his head with a passion so strong it would seem as though the two were words away from killing each other.

The two continue to walk through the school’s lengthy corridors until they approach the gym’s open doors. A message was sent out to the Seijoh team group chat, following which all that came as responses were thumbs up reactions to the message. At least they weren’t ignoring it.

As the two men walk into the gym and toss their bags in a corner, Oikawa can hear chatter and laughter from people other than him and Iwa, sufficient enough to distract him from the impending practice match. After greeting the others and agreeing on a rotation for the game, Iwaizumi’s ears perk up at the sound of his name. He knows it doesn’t come from his lot since they’re too busy stretching to care, so he’s fairly certain it’s coming from the group of girls he can see in the gym’s far other side - the spot reserved for basketball. His interest is only truly piqued when he notices your familiar face.

Though, he can’t just walk over there and question you.

Matsukawa has his hands on the ball, tossing it into the air and catching it. He’s not really paying attention to what Oikawa is babbling about behind him, so Iwaizumi seizes the opportunity and politely asks for the ball from him. Once Matsukawa hands it over with a heavy sigh prior, Iwaizumi practically launches it to the other side of the gym.

“Oikawa, you absolute trash,” Iwaizumi grumbles with faux annoyance before jogging over to get the ball, providing him with enough of a chance to get within your close proximity and overhear your conversation.

“Iwa’s so hot. I need him as mine so so bad. I die every time he talks to me.”

“That is highly concerning,” Iwaizumi intercepts into the conversation after retrieving the ball, to which you scream and slap your hands over your mouth as if you were caught leaking confidential information (which isn’t too far from the truth).

Your friends are gaping and avoiding eye contact with both you and Iwa in an attempt to appear apathetic to the whole situation, something they fail at tremendously.

“T-That was not about you,” you sputter.

Iwaizumi raises a brow and feigns consideration, though he doesn’t say anything to point out the fact that there is no other Iwaizumi in the school, let alone one that talks to you. “I’d hope not. Wouldn’t want you dead now, hm?”

And that’s all he says before flashing you a knowing smile and heading back to his group.

KOZUME KENMA.

The bell above the door jingles as you step into Ukai’s shop. You wave at him as he lights a cigarette and dusts his hands off on his apron. Other than a sweet treat, you’re not sure what else you want and it certainly doesn’t help that you’re a group call with your friends. As usual, you grab your favourite sweet before starting to survey the shop’s contents; from bread to ramen to buns. All the while, you catch sight of Ukai scrolling uninterestedly on his phone.

“I know he’s quiet but trust me, I’ve seen how he is with Kuroo and he’s just reserved,” you retort to your friends as they question your interest in Kenma. “Shut up, I know you guys have all met and talked to him, you know how he is,” you laugh. They all have chemistry together and always tell you about how depressed the blond looks in class.

“Heeey, boss. Heard you’ve taken’ on Karasuno. We’re headed over there now and I wanted to give ya’ my condolences,'' you hear Kuroo tell Ukai, followed by a loud exhale from the latter. Where there’s Kuroo, there’s usually Kenma, so you instantly tense up and feel self-conscious about your appearance and the way you carry yourself.

“If this game is a waste of my time you’re buying dinner,” Kenma finally grumbles.

You feel your heart pound faster and a squeal bubble in your throat. It’s ironic that his tone is that of disinterest yet you’re so very interested in the smoothness of it.

“Guys, he’s here right now,” you whisper into the mic of your earphones.

“No way!”

“Is Kuroo with him? Tell him I said hi!”

“Just your luck, huh?”

You try to tune their comments out in an attempt to steady your breathing before they turn to the aisle you’re in and catch you having a near-breakdown. You’ve never really talked to Kenma one-on-one, Kuroo has always been there. Not that you have anything against the charismatic captain - and it’s not as if you have the courage to talk to Kenma alone. That was slightly juxtaposing in that little to no courage is required to talk to someone who’s of little words.

You finally catch sight of him getting what appears to be his usual, considering how fast he locates the items and tosses them into the basket Kuroo is holding. You continue to walk down the aisle you’re in, in search of a new drink to try.

“Guys, Kenma likes the same pie I do. We’re so meant to be together,” you giggle into the mic, to which your friends sigh and verbally reprimand you for your delusional theories.

“Excuse me.”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice behind you, but move out the way. Kenma grabs one of the drinks he’s eyeing and surveys it in his hand. When he glances at you, his eyes widen to attention. “Hey, it’s you.”

Smiling awkwardly, you nod. “Yeah.”

“Were you just talking about me? I heard my name.”

“Huh,” you say dumbfoundedly, before acknowledging the fact that Kenma had just heard you giggle about your mutual taste for apple pies. “Oh, u-uh, I just noticed that we like the same pies.”

He nods, convinced that you were simply talking to yourself and not giggling to your friends about how in love you are with him. “Have you tried this drink? I don’t know if it’s good,” he asks you.

You’re still a bit dumbfounded by the whole situation and he notices, which is why he waves a hand in your face and calls your name. All you register is that Kuroo now approaches behind him and snickers knowingly at your expression.

“Oh, blondie, you’re so oblivious.”

“Huh? To what?”

“Exactly.”

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post. all that is included in this post, aside from the photos, fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twelve

authors note: you guys are seriously the nicest and most supportive. the comments always make me stupidly smile and laugh cause not a single one of ya'll is gonna let bdj die off. 😭 also, i know a couple of people have commented and asked about the backstory with joe and jadah, and i promise it'll be explored deeper. there's a subplot i'm working towards unveiling here, and it's nearing the reveal part, but we're not there yet! i promise, though, it's gonna be touched on!!!

i also had to chop this chapter in half, because it's honestly so much stuff, so the next update shouldn't take as long cause it's almost done.

the next two are gonna be so fun. maybe some shit will go down too. we shall see.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, some angst, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“So let me get this straight, in the time that I’ve been gone, you and Joe told Callie he’s her dad, you found out Amir and Mariah been fucking behind your back, and you had a semi mental breakdown after running into your father and, plot twist, long lost sister.” She counts each off with a finger, then asking. “Did I miss anything?”

Nodding, you take a scoop of your ice cream before adding, “Joe told me he loves me.”

In true Alexis fashion, she randomly arrived in town the night before, completely unaware of all that transpired in her absence. So, you take this time while Callie sleeps to catch her up. 

“Did I miss anything that I didn’t already know?” You give her a look, and she rolls her eyes, also eating some of her Rocky Road. “Come on, Y/N. Ray Charles could see that man is in love with you. You’re the one being stupid by not reciprocating.” Before you can push back against her, even if she isn’t entirely wrong, she switches topics. “Now when are we gonna go beat Lieriah’s ass? I told you it was something about that girl. She’s a snake.”

Typically the one to defend your friends, it’s hard to find it in you to come to Mariah’s aid. Nevermind the fact that she knows the shitty things Amir has done to you over the years, it’s the fact that she’s supposed to be your best friend but is messing around with same ain't shit ex? You would never do something like that to her, but maybe your loyalty to her has always been stronger than hers to you.

“I’m not worried about him or her. They’re not worth it.” That’s partially true, but the sting of betrayal is slow to pass and even slower to heal. You’ve always had mid to low expectations for Amir, but Mariah? That’s a crushing blow. “I have more important things to figure out.”

She studies you, leaning back against the headboard. “Your sister.”

“Bianca,” you correct. It’s too uncomfortable referring to her as such, even if that’s exactly what she is. 

In the weeks since the big fireworks show—both metaphorically and figuratively—you’ve tried to slowly return to your sense of normalcy. Focusing on Callie—who is an entirely different issue in and of itself that you really need to talk to your mom about—being more on top of things at work, and navigating your relationship with Joe.

He hasn’t been back to visit since Christmas, but you figured as such. Wrestlemania season has arrived, and you know better than anyone how crazy that time is, especially with him main eventing. 

But the one thing you haven’t really allowed yourself to think too much about is Bianca. You’d sent her a vague apology text a few days after your mad dash and explained that you were dealing with some things and just needed time to sort through them. That you’d reach back out when you were ready.

That still hasn’t happened, and it’s entirely intentional. 

“I remember you mentioned that you always wanted siblings?”

“Yeah, cause we have so much to bond over,” you mutter, bitterly.

“Well, you actually do have a lot in common. She’s a teacher, like you. She has a daughter, like you—” 

“You know what we don’t have in common?” You interrupt, feeling the agitation growing again. It’s not directed toward Alexis, just the situation in general. “A father who loves us.”

You were done referring to that man as your father. A father shows up. Like Joe. That son of a bitch isn’t even in the same universe as Joe. 

Her expression softens. You didn’t tell her everything, just enough for her to get the gist that he’s a piece of shit. And you definitely did not tell her about the time you went to see him. You’ve never told anyone that story. Joe is now the only one who knows, and you’d like to keep it that way. It’s just….it’s just too painful. “I had no idea that was the situation there…..I’m really sorry, girl.”

“It is what it is. I don’t need him.” And you’re not too sure if you need Bianca either. “I’m just trying to figure out if I should power through this for Callie’s sake. You should have seen how she and Taylor clicked. I would hate to take that away from her.”

“I get that,” she acknowledges. “You have to make the decision that’s best for the long run, not necessarily how you’re feeling right now.” That’s very easy to say and nearly impossible to do. “Even if you just allow the girls to interact while you keep some distance with Bianca.”

You’re partially intrigued, spooning some more cookie dough. “How would that work?”

“They don’t live here, right?” You nod. “Maybe the girls can talk on Facetime or even play some game on their tablets. That won’t cause you to interact much with mom outside of coordinating virtual playdates, and Callie still gets to spend time with her cousin, or, not cousin."

You sit on her words, not expecting to be as open to the idea as you are. It’s a pretty genius compromise. “You really do give some great advice sometimes, you know that?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she smiles mischievously, and you just shake your head. “Now, who’s gonna knock this bitch Mariah over the head with a steel chair? Me or you? Or should we hit her with a bus, Regina George style?”

“Alexis!”

________

You clearly don’t love yourself because you decided to do both yours and Callie’s washday on the same damn day. A Sunday, at that. Meaning, you have no choice but to get it done because you have work the next day.

And Alexis being in town would be even more of a benefit than it already is if she actually knew how to do hair. Natural hair. She can lay any wig down better than Tae, but caring for coils and curls is another story. It’s why you declined her offer, and she lays knocked out in your bed, while Callie is fast asleep in hers. 

Thankfully, you have an insanely generous and sweet man who’s offered to talk to you while you power through this debacle, noodle arms, sleep deprivation, and all.

“Oh, before I forget again.” You grab the bottle of leave-in to apply more to the next section of hair. Shingling may give you the most definition, but it also gives you the most discomfort. “Can you be here May 8th?” A smile falls on your face. “Our baby is graduating preschool, and I know she’d want you there. I do too.”

“Shit, they have preschool graduations?” He seems genuinely taken back before answering. “But, of course I’ll be there.”

“I know. I used to think they were stupid, but now it’s my kid, so it’s the best thing ever. Her cap and gown should come some time in March, so I’m gonna have one of my old teammates who’s a photographer take professional photos of her.” It’s literally just preschool, but that’s still something she’s accomplished, and you want to commend the occasion the best you can. It’s been years since you’ve had professional photos of her taken anyway. Not since she was first born. “And yes, I’ll get extra for you.”

“How much—”

“Anyways, let me show you the tattoo.” Joe has already done so much, the least you can do is cover the photo costs. Even though you know him well enough to know he’ll find some way to contribute. Thankfully, the side of your hair that still needs to be shingled is clipped at the top of your head, so all you have to do is turn around and push down the thin strap of your shirt to reveal your latest ink. “He did an amazing job.”

“Shit, he did.” Joe’s agreement and approval somehow makes you even more satisfied with the outcome. Your Christmas gift to yourself was finally getting that Moana tattoo Callie has wanted to see on you since you told her you were getting one damn near a year ago. It’s on the back of your left shoulder, a black manta ray, some blue ocean-like coloring with one of your favorite lyrics from the movie: I will carry you here in my heart. You remind me, that come what may, I know the way. 

It’s one of Callie’s favorite songs but also feels like an ode to your grandma as well. 

He then asks, “do you want more?”

Readjusting your shirt and turning back around, you answer, “of course. More Disney but also….” This discussion triggers something for you, something that seems a little out there, but also maybe not. “I saw this tattoo on Pinterest that I want to get for Callie.” You grab your phone. “Let me send it to you.” It’s saved in your favorites folder and thus an easy send. Placing the phone back on the counter, you wait for him to receive and see it.

“I like it.” It’s a baby’s footprint with the name written in cursive and date of birth in print right underneath it. You’ve always wanted Callie’s name on you but couldn’t settle on a design until you came across that one. Something about it just resonates with you. 

Licking your lips, you suggest, “why don’t you get it with me?” Couples getting matching tattoos isn’t something you’re entirely against, you just don’t agree with it for people who are only dating and not married, if marriage is the goal. You remember when Amir once suggested you do so, and you literally laughed in his face. You’d soon rather get branded with a tramp stamp than have that man’s name permanently burned into your skin.

But, matching tattoos for the child you created together with the man you love. That is something you could get behind. 

And apparently so can he.

“Let’s do it.”

“Really?” You’re not sure why, but the ease of his agreement shocks you. It’s not too far-fetched when you think about it. He loves his daughter, and you’ve always known Joe to only get tattoos that have meaning. He could give you a detailed explanation for every piece of ink on his body. 

“Yeah.” There’s almost a sense of excitement in his voice, like he’s eager to have her name on him, to share this with you. “Same location?” At that, you make a face. He laughs. “Inner bicep does hurt, I’m not even gon’ lie to you.”

Yeah, you’ve definitely heard as such, and considering his entire right side is tatted, he’d know. “I don’t know. I have to think about it. I might need to squeeze your hand the whole time, or I’ll end up punching the tattooist.”

He laughs, “you can squeeze my hand.” Joe then asks, “when do you want to get em’ done?” You start to think about it logistically, as well as financially. Tattoos aren’t cheap. “Do you want to go to the Super Bowl?”

His question surprises you because it’s such a change in topics but also….what? “Yup. And Hawaii and Puerto Rico. And then maybe if we have time, stop by Alice in Wonderland.”

He’s too good at matching your sass, retorting, “I can make the first two happen easily. The last one may be a stretch.” Rolling your eyes, you grab for the gel. “I’m serious though. My tattoo artist is based out of Vegas. The game is in Vegas this year. It’ll let me see Callie too, cause I’m having a hard time finding a gap to visit.” As he continues to speak without laughing or chuckling, you realize he’s dead serious. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to go anyway but kept forgetting.”

You need extra clarification. “Like this year's Usher concert where there’s apparently a game too?”

He rolls his eyes, providing the guest list. “It’s me and the twins, their family, some other fam…..we have a whole section, cause you know it's a bunch of us.” It’s still hard to sit on the fact that this man really just invited you to the fucking Super Bowl like it’s dinner at Golden Coral. His eyes soften. “I wanna see her. I wanna see you.”

Joe’s closing statement, so true and vulnerable, is what breaks you from your temporary state of shock. You get the sense he misses ya’ll just as much as you miss him. “Of course, we’ll go. I’m sorry, I just—I wasn’t expecting that.” And it’s true, you weren’t. “How will we get fl—”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of everything. I just need you to show up at the airport.”

That seems to be such a recurring theme with this man. He does everything he can to make things as easy for you as possible. It’s tremendously appreciated and doesn’t go without notice. 

“This is the first time she’ll be meeting the twins,” you realize aloud. Hell, his family at all. 

Joe nods, chuckling. “Yeah, they’ve been on my ass about that anyway. They want to meet her.”

Pinning down the section you just finished, you take down the next. A little over halfway done now. “Whoever you want her to meet is fine with me, Joe. I don’t even really have a say in that. She has every right to meet your family just as much as she’s had to meet mine.”

And it’s true. Unless it could present some harm to Callie, you don’t really feel like you have the right to object to things like that. You have zero desire to interfere with Joe and Callie anymore than you already have. 

“I know. I just wanted to tell her the truth before introducing her to anyone else. Less lies.” Makes sense. Thinking about Callie meeting more family brings a small smile to your face. It’s what she deserves. Family members who actually want to be in her life.

The conversation brings something else to the forefront of your mind, partially due to Joe’s confession to you on Christmas but also a question you’ve wanted to ask him for much longer than you’d like to admit. 

“So….” This shouldn’t be as nerve wracking as it is. “There’s something I want to ask you, but I don’t…..I don’t want to overstep.” If he were to tell you that he’d rather you not, that’d be fine with you, one less stressful thing on your plate. But, of course, he’s silent, meaning he’s not going to object. So….you decide to bite the bullet and go for it. “What happened between you and your wife?”

You’re certain he wasn’t expecting that to be what you asked, but to your surprise, he answers. “We were young and got married for the wrong reason. I was 22. She was 21.”

Unsure but taking a big risk regardless, you ask in a small voice. “What was the reason?”

His answer isn’t what you’re expecting either. “She was pregnant.”

It takes a second for you to process what he’s saying. Your stomach is suddenly in knots, chest feeling tight. There’s no way he’s kept something like that from you. No way in hell. “Wait, does Callie have—”

“No.”

And just like that, you know. He doesn’t need to explain. It’s painfully obvious, especially as he looks away from the camera. You have a feeling you've unlocked a painful memory he’d most likely kept tucked away. 

“I’m sorry.” It feels so stupid and unhelpful to say. What does that do for him? It doesn’t take away that experience, that loss that you can’t even begin to imagine. But, it’s all you can offer. “Just—forget I asked, let’s change the subject.” Do you have more questions? Of course. Like, why was there such a gap between their loss and the divorce? But, this is understandably a difficult and sensitive subject, and the last thing you want to do is trigger him more than you already have.

You know better than anyone how awful that can be. 

He agrees with the subject change, going along with the transition of topics, clearly grateful for your understanding. But, in the back of your mind, you can’t help but think about the fact that this man lost his firs child before he could even meet the them, and the child he had who did survive was kept a secret from him for nearly five years.

There’s a sudden sickness and disgust you feel. And it’s not towards anyone but yourself. 

Joe had every goddamn right to be furious with you about your subterfuge.

He still does. ________

“Mama, something is up with Callie.”

You’re thankful Alexis agreed to keep Callie preoccupied in the living room while you have this conversation with your mom, because Callie had another incident just this morning, slamming her door when you told her she needed to pick up her toys.

She’s never done that.

But she has done other things in the past two weeks or so, rolling her eyes or pouting her mouth at you when you say something she doesn’t want to hear, beyond typical tantrums. 

Your mom stops her stirring at the pot to turn around and look at you. “What do you mean? Is she sick?”

“No,” you answer and then realize you’re not entirely sure how to explain it. She’s not being bad, per se. Just….difficult. “She’s just been…..off.”

Genuinely intrigued, and partially concerned, you watch your mom turn the fire on low as she joins you at the kitchen table. “Tell me.”

Shaking your head, you explain. “I thought it was just me, that I was just being overprotective and hyper-vigilant, but when I picked her up from preschool yesterday, her teacher pulled me to the side and asked me if she’s been having sleep problems. I told her no and asked why, and she told me Callie has been irritable. With staff and other kids.”

“Callie?” Your mom seems just as taken back as you were hearing these words. “That doesn’t even sound like her.”

“I know, and that’s what I said at first, but then I thought about it, and she’s been crabby with me too. It’s not horrible, but it’s unlike her.”

A small part of you wonders if it has something to do with you running off on her on Christmas. It would make sense. She was doing absolutely fine before then, but it’s the timing that throws that theory off. You’ve noticed this change only in the past two weeks, well after Christmas day passed, so why the delay?

“What does Joe think it is?”

“I haven’t told him.” It’s not that you don’t want to. You’d just like to have a better grasp of what it is before doing so. Have more actual information to provide him.

“He hasn’t seen the behavior for himself?”

You shake your head. “She’s fine with him. Matter of fact, after his calls, she’s like a completely different child.” It’s watching your mom’s face settle into a look of realization that makes you ask, “what? What is it?”

“Honey” she starts with a soft chuckle. “She’s missing her daddy.”

Her answer catches you by surprise, painting your face with confusion. You’ve had a lot of theories, but that definitely wasn’t one of them. “What?”

Reaching across the table, she places her hand over yours. “Think about it. How would she react if you were gone as much as he is? She’d be a mess, cause you’re her mama, and she has a strong attachment to you. Look how easily she attached and connected with Joe. It’s always been there. Except she knows the truth now, so her attachment is even stronger.” You heed to her explanation, wise and sensible. You hadn’t even thought of it that way. “And isn’t this the longest he’s been gone without her seeing him? She’s acting out because she misses him and probably doesn’t know how to verbalize it, so it shows in her behavior.”

As relieved as you are to have an explanation that makes sense, it’s an explanation that makes you incredibly sad for your sweet child. You know how hard it is for Joe to get away right now, you understand it. It never crossed you that she wouldn’t. 

Devastated, you ask, “what do I do?”

“Talk to her. Try to help her understand. It may not make a huge difference, but it’s something.”

You nod, so so grateful for her, for all that she does for you, for Callie. For all that she’s done. Reaching across the table, you hug her tightly. “thank you, mama.” As much as it devastated you to not have that man in your life, your mom made sure to go above and beyond to make sure you knew you were loved. She played both roles beautifully, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to make her understand what that meant to you. 

You still haven’t really sat her down and explained everything that happened Christmas night, nor has she asked, but you know it’s because she’s trying to respect your space. It’s appreciated, but you also know you’re gonna have to eventually tell her.

Just not now.

Right now, you’ve gotta take care of your baby.

________

Even the energy in Callie’s playroom feels off.

You’re so used to walking in and finding her with that million dollar smile that makes your entire day better. Instead, you walk in and she doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. She just continues to color. 

“Hey, baby….” Disappointed, but refusing to show as such, you welcome yourself in and approach her table. “Is it okay if I color with you?” 

She still doesn’t say anything, just nods, and you do your best not to hide your sadness. You hate seeing her this down, it’s so unfamiliar, and you’ll do just about anything to fix it. 

Sitting down in the uncomfortable seat, you take a couple of her pages and pull out a crayon. “I have an idea.” At that, she looks up, slightly intrigued. “Why don’t we draw how we’ve been feeling lately? I draw me, and you draw you.” 

You scold yourself for not selling it to her better, for not telling her it’s something you sometimes do with your students. Some level of innocent peer pressure. However, she surprises you by agreeing with a simple “okay.”

It takes a second for you to register that it was really that simple. Step one is done. Now for step two. 

Grabbing some crayons, you don’t really concern yourself with skin tone, just getting something out on paper. The two of you color in silence, and you start to offer to put on her favorite playlist but decide against it. 

You want her to really think about what you’re asking. 

It’s when you see that she’s placed down her crayon and is just staring at her picture that you ask, “you done?” She shakes her head, but her eyes are on the table in front of her. “Is it okay if mommy sees it? I’ll show you mine too.”

Handing you the page, you expect an influx of emotions, but actually seeing her literal representation of how she feels is simply heartbreaking. 

She’s drawn herself, frowning, surrounded by broken hearts and a blue tear leaking from her eye. Callie did what you asked. You just wish it didn’t have you feeling so helpless.

“This means you’ve been feeling sad, huh?” You hate how your voice gives away your emotions. This is about her, not you, but it’s so difficult for you to not be impacted. No mother wants to see her child hurting, and Callie currently is. It kills you. “Callie….” Moving up from your chair, you move across to kneel in front of her, taking her hands in yours. “Have you been sad because you miss your dad?”

All you need to hear is one sniffle, and instantly, you’re reaching for her, holding and comforting her.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay, baby.” She cries into your chest, and you have to hold back your own tears.

“Why doesn't he come back?” She asks in between tears, wiping her eyes. “He’s been gone a really long time.” It’s only then you realize that she’s not entirely exaggerating. Joe was last here for Christmas. It’s now the end of January. For a child like Callie, that must feel like an eternity.

“He would if he could, Callie. I promise you he would. Daddy just…he gets really busy with his job this time of the year, and he can’t leave or he’ll get in trouble.” It’s so difficult to explain this to her. WrestleMania season is inarguably chaotic and stupidly busy. Even back in the day, Joe’s trips to see you were most far and few in between during this time of year. And that was before he even had a title. You can’t even imagine how busy he must be as the literal fucking face of the company.

Enough to keep him from being able to come see you and Callie. 

You’ve just gotten so used to the dynamics of him being away for periods at a time that it never occurred to you Callie hasn’t had the same experience. That at the end of the day she’s still a little kid who just wants to be with her dad. 

It’s then that a thought crosses your mind.

“What if…..what if we went to see daddy?” For the first time since you stepped into the room, her eyes actually light up and you notice her tears lessening. “Instead of him coming to us, we go see him?”

“Really?” There’s the faintest smile on her face, and you know then that you’re going to make this happen. You don’t know how or in what way, but it will be a reality. No matter what it takes. 

“Yeah,” you answer, brushing away some of her tears. “You can go see him at his show. He’d love that.” Not as much as she clearly loves the idea alone. “Now, we’d only be able to stay a day or maybe two but—”

“Please,” she interrupts, and you get the sense that she fears you’re going to find a way to say that you couldn’t or shouldn’t go. “I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”

“Baby, you’re already the best girl.” You push back some of her hair, resting your hand against her cheek. “Mama’s gonna make it happen, okay? I promise.”

If you have to sell one of your kidneys, then you’ll just be less one organ, because you’re getting your baby to that damn show. Matter of fact, you don’t say anything to her, but you’re wondering if you can make it to this week’s upcoming show. It’s only Sunday, and that gives you a couple of days to make arrangements and secure tickets. It’s doable, but you don’t want to get her hopes up, so just in case, you say nothing.

And yes, in the back of your mind, you know she’ll see Joe in a couple of weeks for the game, but that’s too long. Your child is hurting. You need to do something now. She can’t wait that long. 

“Thank you, mommy!” She wraps her little arms around you, and just like that, you see the spark and joy that fills your days with light and laughter. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.” Kissing her temple, you release her, realizing something else. “Now we can't tell your daddy because we’re gonna surprise him, okay? Can you do that for me?”

She nods, happily, unaware of the real reason. You know that you can’t tell Joe about this. Well, not now at least. This is not something to be discussed over the phone or even video chat. And if you tell him you want to take her to see him as soon as possible, he’ll know something is up. 

So, you have to move in silence. 

Coloring with Callie commences for a little longer as you value and cherish your time with her, but as soon as she’s down for her nap and before you wake Alexis from hers to tell her the news, you need to do something. It’s in that time bonding with her you realized how you’re going to make this happen.

You’re suddenly immensely grateful for that random conversation you’d had with Joe a while back regarding the fact that he and the twins have had the same phone number since they were in high school.

Pulling out your phone, you scroll through your contacts until you land on the one you need. You type, backspace, and type some more, only sending out the text once you’re fully pleased with it.

You: Hey, Jon. This is Y/N. Can you call me when you get a chance? Preferably sooner rather than later. I need your help with something. And please don’t tell Joe. It’s a surprise. 

________

God clearly wants you to bring Callie to see Joe. 

There’s just too many things that have lined up perfectly for that not to be the case. The discussion with your principal went well, though that wasn’t entirely surprising. You’ve always had a cordial relationship and know she respected your grandma. The whole school system in your town did. That was just her level of impact. But that respect has slid down to work in your favor as your principal told you to take as much time as you need.

“You’ll always have a job here.”

While not a huge concern, it’s reassuring and not entirely unsurprising. Again, your grandma’s impact definitely granted you a level of nepotism. You were slightly surprised when she actually encouraged you to take more time off, pointing out how in the almost nine years you’ve worked there, she could count on one hand how much PTO or vacation time you’ve used. And, it’s true. It was really only when Callie was sick and your mom couldn't help or you wanted to stay home and nurse her back to health that you called out. For the most part, you had damn near perfect attendance.

But, that’s certainly about to change, and you’re thankful you have a job that’s flexible enough to accommodate the change. 

And then there’s the actual getting there. You should have known when Alexis was asking questions about when you and Callie were leaving that she was up to something. You naively chalked it up to her planning her flight out, as there was no way you expected her to wait around for ya’ll to get back. Instead, she was busy buying not just her ticket to come with ya’ll but yours and Callie’s as well.

You instantly felt bad when she forwarded you the itinerary information. You couldn’t see the cost, but you weren’t stupid either. Getting flights out with such short notice had to be expensive as all outdoors. You were just going to put the bill on your credit card and work to pay it off. And, of course, when you offered to pay her back, she nearly cussed you out. As if such an offer was insulting. 

“What good is a trust fund if you can’t spend it on your college roomie and pretend godchild?”

So, while you still felt slightly uncomfortable, you were able to push it to the backburner for the sake of Callie. This is all for her, and you don’t care what it takes to make it happen. Even if it means sucking up your pride. 

And deep down, you know if Alexis didn’t do what she did, Joe would somehow find a way to compensate you. The same way his ass somehow got his card on file at the hospital and covered all of Callie’s medical bills without ever even asking you if you needed help.

You still haven’t talked to him about that, not really having or finding the right time, but it also feels a bit bitchy and ungrateful to be upset with the man for covering his daughter’s medical expenses. 

Then there’s the actual show itself. One thing you were initially concerned about was if Joe has a match lined up for this upcoming week’s show. You two have only had a couple of discussions about it but still enough for you to learn that he’s extremely hesitant to expose Callie to his wrestling persona. 

“I don’t want her seeing me like that, thinking that’s who I am.”

And you understand him fully. Roman may be a fascinating character, but he’s equally narcissistic and ruthless as he is intriguing. The complete opposite of Joe and who he is. 

Still, you’ve worked to help him understand that talking to Callie, explaining to her that he’s playing a “character” could help her understand better. You both are in agreement that she’s too young to watch actual matches, especially his as they tend to get brutal, but she can see certain promos. And she does. You let her watch a couple where the dialogue is safe enough to go over her head. And truth be told, she’s so focused on watching Joe that she's not really paying attention to what’s being said anyway. 

Needless to say, you were massively relieved to hear from Jon that Joe doesn't have a match lined up and his promo is reportedly tame and safe enough for Callie’s eyes and ears. He didn’t give specifics, but from one parent to another parent, you trust his judgment. 

And the most important thing of all is the fact that Callie has done a complete 180. She’s no longer as irritable, just the usual attitude when she’s sleepy or hungry. Just like her mama. And there’s that spark of joy in her eyes. She’s even started packing what she wants to bring with her. She knows you’ll only be there for one night, but even that can’t seem to dim her joy. 

It makes your heart swell. 

All of this brings you to your conclusion that you’re doing exactly what you should be doing. 

“Ahhh, and here it is.” The old woman’s voice breaks you from your inner dialogue as she walks toward the counter, returning from the back. “Sorry about that sweetheart.”

“No worries, Mrs. Ella.” Your eyes light when you see the item in her hand, even if it’s covered by a cloth bag. The fact that it’s ready is more than enough to make you smile. “Thank you so much for agreeing to this.”

She waves off your concern, offering a warm smile. “Your grandma was one of my best friends. As far as I’m concerned, anything you need is a done deal.”

That warms your heart. Mrs. Ella has been the town seamstress for longer than you’ve been alive but doesn’t look a day over 50. She’s not lying either. Your grandma always cited her as one of her “life” sisters. 

“Why don’t we take a look to make sure it’s alright?” She offers, removing the item from the garment bag. She takes the hoodie and turns it over so you can see the back.

In awe, you acknowledge, “it’s perfect.”

Among the many things Joe has gifted Callie, WWE apparel hasn’t really been included in that list. You’ve chalked it up to his hesitation about familiarizing her with his Roman persona. However, you know that girl loves her daddy and will support him in all the things, so you took it upon yourself to pick her up a few items over the holidays. One of those things being a black hoodie with Roman’s picture on the front with him wearing one of his head of the table shirts. Wanting to make it special and personal, you had the idea of customizing it. Thus, asking Mrs. Ella to add to the back, Acknowledge my daddy!, and she did a fabulous job. It looks like that was the original design. 

Pulling out your wallet, you ask, “how much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.”

Your eyes snap to her. “Mrs. Ella, no, this was a rush—”

“Don’t argue with your elders, child,” she scolds, and you smile warmly. “Just show me a picture of her wearing it, and we’ll be even.”

Moved by her generosity, you offer your gratitude again. “Thank you, Mrs. Ella. Seriously. Thank you.” 

Hand over yours, she just nods and then ushers you out the door, “well, you better get a move on child.” 

With a small laugh and one more thank you, you leave out with the hoodie, excited to show Callie and even more, to see Joe’s reaction when he sees her wearing it.

“Y/N?”

Fuck. You’d know that voice anywhere, have known it since you were five years old. 

That doesn’t mean you have to heed to it.

You keep walking. 

A stupid decision, because the footsteps behind you become louder and faster as she asks, exasperated, “would you just talk to me?”

You spin around, suddenly pissed at her repeated question. “Why? Why should I talk to you?” 

You’ve dodged and ignored her texts the same way she did yours, so what’s the issue now? Being on the receiving end must be one hell of an unpleasant experience for her. Not that you give two shits. Mariah is the last thing on your plate right now.

Mariah seems taken back, and that just pisses you off more. How can she not see her wrong in this situation? “You’re my best friend, Y/N. We’ve been friends since we were in kindergarten. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Did it mean something to you when you were fucking Amir?”

Something you can’t identify flashes in her eyes followed by apparent hurt. “Are you serious right now? You’d really believe him over me.” It’s hard to tell how sincere her watery eyes are or if they’re performative. You’ve never known her to be fake, but then again, maybe you’ve never really known her at all. “That’s fucked up.”

Finding some level of compassion and understanding for the woman you called your best friend for almost your entire life, you try to offer her the benefit of the doubt. “Okay, let’s say you’re not fucking him. At the very least, you’ve been telling him my business while ignoring my texts and calls. Like, what the fuck, Mo?” 

She shakes her head. “He came to me, worried about you—”

“He came to you nosy and upset because I cut it off with him, and you fell into his trap.” How she can possibly fall for Amir’s bullshit is beyond you. She knows how he is. Hell, she’s been right beside you, up until recent weeks/months, dealing with his bullshit. So, her excuse is just that—an excuse. “And even if he was, as my best friend, you should know that’s still girl code violation.”

It feels almost silly citing that, but the morals behind it still ring true. You would never talk to Caleb about things going on in her life when you know they’re not on good terms. And you damn sure would never fuck him. 

“Girl code?That’s funny coming from you, because you didn’t seem to to care about girl code when you were fucking another woman’s husband and had a whole ass baby for him.”

Her words stop you dead in your tracks. Any facial expression you may have been showing is dropped and neutral. Even your voice is softer, less accusatory. “Excuse me?” 

For her to say that to you, knowing how sensitive a subject that is truly takes you by surprise. Truly. 

It doesn’t stop there though. “I mean, forreal, Y/N. You’re up in my face about Amir, but aren’t you still fucking Joe? Shit, how many niggas do you need?” It’s hard to believe the words coming out her mouth, so angry and hostile. But, even her volume rising has you stumped. It’s like she wants to draw an audience. “It’s not enough to be one man’s whore, but you still gotta have another on the side?”

Truly baffled, all you can ask is, “where is this coming from?” 

She sucks her teeth, just as irritated, if not more by your question. “It’s always been this shit with you. You do whatever the fuck you want and don’t care who you hurt or betray in the process!”

And now you’re just straight up confused, because what have you ever done to her? Cause that’s what it sounds like she’s implying. Like you’ve done her wrong. Like you’ve been doing her wrong. “What are you even talking about?”

“You got Joe. You got Amir. Shit, when is enough enough for you?” She scoffs, and it’s hard for you to even look at her let alone listen to all the hurtful things she’s spewing. “Like damn, find a new hobby. Focus on raising your kid—”

And that…..that is the moment that you’re no longer confused, or hurt, or saddened to hear your best friend say such awful things. You’re pissed. Cause one thing no one can convince you you’re not, is a good mother. You’ve dedicated your entire life and being to taking care of Callie, making sure she’s straight. That’s always been your priority, and for her to suggest otherwise….those are really fighting words. 

You step toward her, finding all of the will in the world not to shatter her jaw. “You and I have so much history. It is the only reason I’m not whooping your ass right now, but know this, Mariah. This was your freebie. Fuck with me again, speak on my child again, and I’ll bash your fucking head into the nearest wall.” It’s not a threat. It’s a promise. “Stay away from me, bitch.”

You don’t give her time to respond or even yourself the chance to lay her out, you instead rush to your car, locking the door and speeding out of the parking lot. 

Your knuckles are nearly white with how tightly you’re gripping the steering wheel.

It’s been a while since you’ve been this hot. Years maybe. Amir would piss you off, sure, but never to the extent of your emotions in this moment. It truly took all resolve and imagining Callie’s disappointed face at not being able to see her dad  because you got yourself locked up for aggravated assault to keep you from beating Mariah’s ass. She knows better than anyone that you don’t play about your daughter, so for her to include Callie in her mud slinging is not only repugnant but hurtful.

She’s supposed to be Callie’s godmother. 

But beyond that, you’re having a hard time reconciling with the rest of the things she was saying. It didn’t feel like something that’s been building up over the past few months. No, this was different. Much…..deeper.

Regardless, you don’t have time to deal with this shit. You need to put your focus on preparing to bring your little girl to see her dad. 

Mariah can fuck off. 

She’s always been all bark and no bite anyway. 

________

“Mommy.”

Callie doesn’t even have to say anything else for you to know a request is to follow. 

“What's up, sis?”

She climbs on top of where you lay on the sofa, you and Alexis watching some random dating show she swears up and down is the best thing since Love is Blind. So far, you’re entirely unimpressed. Granted, reality shows of any kind have never been your cup of tea in the first place. 

Your YouTube history is mostly crime documentaries and Bloodline videos. 

She climbs on top of you, throwing her arms up and shouting, “dance party!”

Of all her typical requests, that’s one you haven’t heard in a while. 

You’ve always raised Callie with music, even back when you were pregnant, you would take your Beats and place them on your belly. It’s seemingly worked because this child loves music, so much so that you two would have random “dance party’s” where you’d blast music and dance around, no care in the world, just the two of you.

You haven’t had one in a while, but seeing Callie so happy, a stark contrast from how she’s been is more than enough to get you up and on your feet. You look over at Alexis. “Come on, Lex, it’s dance party time.” 

She feigns a gasp, looking at Callie for approval. “Do I get to come to this party?”

Callie giggles and jumps on the sofa. “Of course! Everyone can come to dance party!”

What’s also ironically funny is the fact that you and Alexis used to have dance parties all the time in your dorm, just often with much more explicit Travis Porter, Speaker Knockerz, type music and a lot of ass shaking.

“Well tonight, it’s just the three of us,” you laugh, grabbing your phone and opening your Spotify to figure out what will be your kickoff song. It’s when your eyes land on that one though, you know you’ve found it.

Connecting your phone to your Bluetooth, you confirm the connection and hit play. 

We're a thousand miles from comfort, we have traveled land and sea

But as long as you are with me, there's no place I'd rather be

“My favorite white girl song ever!” Alexis shouts, starting to dance with Callie who’s just as excited about your selection. Together, the three of you dance and sing when the iconic chorus hits. 

If you gave me a chance I would take it

It's a shot in the dark but I'll make it

Know with all of your heart, you can't shake me

When I am with you, there's no place I'd rather be

At some point, Alexis grabs your phone, recording and capturing the laughter and joy you experience dancing and being silly with your very, very best friend. Callie’s laughter could revive any soul, and it’s so genuine. Even more, you know a large chunk of it is her excitement to see her dad in a couple of days.

And that makes it all the more special. 

Eventually needing a break and time to catch your breath, you laugh as the song ends and the next one starts. Lex and Callie immediately go at it for round two, spinning around and dancing to Dance the Night. 

You take a second to check your phone, seeing that you have a Snapchat from Joe. Frowning, you open the message confused as to why he’s using that and not just text. He only has the damn app because you made him get it. He’s not very big on social media outside of occasional Instagram posts. 

Swiping it open, you see why he was messaging you on there.

Because your wonderful best friend sent him the video she recorded of the three of you dancing.

Joe: How do I save this?

Joe: Fuck it. It’s too confusing. Just send it to me.

Laughing, you chew on your bottom lip and type out a reply.

You: You’re such an old man. 😩 

You: But yes, I’ll send it, even if I didn’t know Alexis was recording to send it to you...

You: Callie loves “dance parties” lol 

Joe: I love her laugh. She looks so happy…

You: I know. ❤️ She loves music. Def my kid.

You: Skillet is next on the queue, btw. 🙃

Joe: Don’t know what that is, but if I had to take a guess, it’s some rock shit.

You: You know me so well. 😊

Joe: Of course, baby.

Leaving his thread, you realize that if she sent it to Joe, she probably posted it to your private story as well, which is fine. You only have people on there you know and trust to keep the contents within that space.

But, it’s in checking the views that you see Mariah not only watched but screen recorded your story. It’s strange, normally you wouldn’t think twice about it. She’s always screenshotted and screen recorded stuff you posted, and you did the same with Micah. 

But now…..

Now, it feels wrong to share these moments with her. She’s lost that privilege. 

Moving to your contacts, you ignore her old Snapchat name she never uses anymore and instead just block her primary one from seeing your stories, and that includes close friends. And interestingly enough, when you check your texts, you see one from her muted thread that momentarily causes you to pause.

Mariah: Kinda stupid to ice out the one person who knows everything about you. 

But the pause comes and goes, Mariah always says shit, and that’s where it stops, the saying. She’s always been the mouse of you two, and that shit ain’t changed.

Closing up the app, you switch back to Spotify and focus on what’s before you and not behind you.

You have all the people you need in your life. 

Mariah can fuck off.

[i-heart-hxh]

I was rewatching HxH recently and I’m kind of confused about Killua’s doubt about Gon’s friendship in the CA arc. Gon has told Killua multiple times that he is his best friend and even stated that Killua was part of his current life goal (meeting Ging but specifically introducing Killua to Ging). So why is Killua wondering if he’s a teammate or a friend during the palace invasion? Nothing actually happened up until that point to make it seem like Gon no longer considered him a friend so where is this doubt even coming from? I just don’t get where this “which is it” crisis even came from. Gon never suggested Killua was no longer a friend but now he has to pay the consequences of not knowing what’s going on in Killua’s head.

And on that note, I think it was unfair of Killua to part from Gon letting him think that his actions caused the separation. Especially when he is clearly contrite and was in the middle of a psychotic break when he snapped at Killua.

Hi! This is a great question, and something that confused me my first time through the series as well.

I actually talked about this topic here as an addition/extension to @tjlnn22's awesome post about how the aftermath of Gon's date with Palm and Gon's concern about Palm during the palace invasion played a role in Killua feeling uncertain about his role in Gon's life. I highly recommend reading the whole post because it makes the series of events more clear and understandable and lays it out with actual manga pages, but I'll talk about it a bit here as well. (Apologies if I end up repeating myself some--I sometimes I like to restate things in case it's helpful to someone!)

It is strange that Killua fixates on this friend/tomodachi vs comrade/nakama topic during Chimera Ant Arc, after Gon declared Killua his best friend in the whole world not long ago at all. As the audience, I think we're supposed to question this as well--after all, that declaration from Gon at the end of Greed Island was a major moment in the series, we haven't seen the two of them have any major falling out, and Gon hasn't directly said anything to Killua that might contradict them still being best friends. So, why this crisis all the sudden?

Killua's insecurity boils down to two major factors:

Gon wants to fight Pitou alone, and Killua defines himself in relation to Gon via acts of service--his self-esteem hinges on how useful he can be to Gon. (Remember when he nearly died and the last thing he said was apologizing to Gon for not being of more use?) Gon denying Killua the ability to fight alongside him in such an important mission likely feels to like a rejection to Killua, to a degree. Think of how much it meant to Killua to be relied upon by Gon in the dodgeball match. This is in conjunction with Killua feeling like he failed Gon when he fled from Pitou and left Kite to die, and also the needle's effects in general (causing him to flee when up against strong opponents) make Killua feel like a failure, someone unworthy of being at Gon's side.

His sense of his place at Gon's side is also disrupted by Gon's date with Palm and Gon being worried about Palm during the mission. There is very strong evidence (again, here) that the date and aftermath of it seriously impacts Killua, including over the longer term, and makes him wonder who he is to Gon, anyway. This idea gets brought up again and again, and when Killua has his sobbing breakdown in front of Palm, it's because he's thinking about the possibility that Palm means more to Gon than him.

It's both of these factors, not just one or the other.

Chimera Ant arc keeps circling back to questions around Killua's relationship to Gon and what the meaning of it is, specifically bringing up the concept of romantic love directly around it repeatedly. As the audience, many of us find it confusing that Killua is wondering if he's still Gon's friend when their status as friends has been so clear throughout the series and never seemed to fall into question. Even Gon choosing to fight Pitou alone doesn't explain the crisis Killua is having over this.

I personally think this crisis is really about Killua's romantic feelings for Gon, with the language somewhat obfuscated because ultimately this is a Jump manga and I believe Togashi knows people who understand the subtext will get it (keep in mind just how much subtext there is in this arc overall), and those who don't will just puzzle over it a bit and maybe consider the context the rest of the arc provides. Killua himself also might not have full awareness of or be unwilling to admit to himself fully why he's so upset about this situation and therefore mentally frame it as "friends or comrades," too. It's basically about how much he means to Gon, regardless.

If you remove Killua's romantic feelings for Gon from the puzzle, the conflict he's having doesn't entirely make sense, but when you do consider it, it suddenly makes a lot more sense. He's worried about whether Gon sees him the same way he sees Gon, and because he believes Gon is "dating" Palm and has feelings for her, he's struggling with what he sees as a mismatch in their feelings for each other. Is he Gon's beloved #1 person and partner, or is he just someone Gon works with to reach goals? Does Gon love Killua the way Killua loves Gon, or not? It's a common trope in romance, something you'd see in a shoujo manga. Taken in conjunction with all the other romantic subtext in the series, it's a conclusion that works for me. I think it's just lightly "coded" to keep it somewhat below the surface and have some plausible deniability.

On your final point, we actually don't know what Killua said to Gon about the parting because we never saw the full conversations between them on the subject. During the separation, Killua teases Gon about what happened during Chimera Ant Arc, but he doesn't blame Gon or say that Gon is why they're splitting up. If anything, he emphasizes it's because he decided he needs to be with Alluka and protect her. So, I don't think it's fair to blame Killua for something he didn't actually do, as far as we know.

[imfinereallyy]

Steve getting Venca’d is a plot line I thoroughly enjoy, but I feel like there is a path I haven’t really seen taken yet. Like, I’ve seen canon divergence where he gets vecna’d instead of Max, or he takes Max’s place, or I’ve seen it written as a season five (with Eddie back, of course), but hear me out, hear me out…

What if Steve starts the symptoms of Vecna (kind of like Vecna’s backup plan), but Steve never gets used? Like, they do their original plan in season four. Steve doesn’t really notice his symptoms until it’s too late; they are already in deep with spring break. Steve thinks about volunteering in Max’s place, but he knows if he says something, then the party has two people to worry about, and he knows Max would be too stubborn to change the plan. So he proceeds on. They go forth with the plan (Steve gets some horrible visions throughout spring break but manages to keep it to himself. Eddie notices something is off but is too focused on not dying to ask questions), and everything works out kind of the same as before except they win and everyone makes it (Eddie and max are still messed up, close to death but they make it).

After a few weeks (months probably), everyone is starting to heal and move on, but Steve just can’t. He’s still really messed up from his visions. The way they manipulated his trauma (about his parents, about being valued only with sex and money, Nancy, the kids, and his sexuality). It haunts him every day. He didn’t die like the other teens. He didn’t get to confront it like Max. Steve is just stuck in this mental hell and doesn’t know how to move on. Doesn’t know who to talk to. If he even should talk to anyone.

At this point, I feel like Eddie and Robin would notice him slipping. Robin is his platonic soulmate, his capital P, she may be frazzled, but she would most definitely notice when her best friend is not himself. Robin gives him space at first, but she can tell it’s only getting worse and decides it’s time to do something.

And Eddie, despite how much his past self would beat him over the head for it, likes Steve. He’s a good guy. Saves Eddie’s ass more times than he can count, even after the whole Upside Down thing. He likes to spend time with Steve; actually, almost all his time that isn’t spent with the kids and Wayne he spends with Steve, so of course, he notices Steve wasting away. Eddie noticed that Steve only really perks up when everyone is together in one place (Also, Eddie only has like slight romantic feelings for him at this point; his motivations at first are purely innocent, but as time moves on, he starts to fall for Steve and vice versa). So Eddie decides to spend more time with him one on one. Give him a safe space.

I’m not really sure how the rest of the plot would go. The party definitely gets involved, but they don’t notice for a while and make it worse at times (they are kids, after all), and the adults do their part too. I also think it’s an opportunity to talk about everyone’s unresolved trauma, like it doesn’t all go away magically after the defeat of the big bad. I think Steve having unresolved vecna visions is a perfect example of that.

Give Steve the breakdown he deserves and the support he clearly needs. And, of course, make it Steddie.

———

maybe I’ll write it, I’ve got so much to write, but maybe I’ll DO IT.

[koralinewrites]

I saw a post on your main account that you listened to DAYLIGHT! If you don't mind, could you let me know what you think of it?

OOH YES!

Okay so, just to preface this, I’ve ONLY ever listened to Laito’s audios, so his is all I’m gonna be talking about. Obviously there’s gonna be a few spoilers- I personally REALLY loved his tracks. I know there are people who don’t like it because of the storyline and such, but I don’t really care about all that. I loved it for two things. 1) It shows off Laito’s thought processes and what goes through his head and 2) Daisuke Hirakawa’s performance was amazing.

I LOVE angst. I love reading it, writing it, everything. And this has a lot of angst. I mean, the one person who he’s fallen in love with is dying, and there’s quite literally nothing he can do. I think Track 4 was the one that actually got me to cry at the end, when he’s having a mental breakdown. We get to learn more about how he views himself. He doesn’t think of himself as someone who should HAVE these feelings. He’s Laito Sakamaki: a vampire who lies and manipulates his way through life (basically a direct quote, btw). He doesn’t know what to do about these feelings. Lust and pleasure was all predictable, it was second nature. But when someone he genuinely cared for showed up? He had no idea. And then to pile onto these confusing feelings, that same person was going to die. And he couldn’t do a thing. His default was to get rid of the root of the problem, aka you.

This is where I got kinda confused , because a similar thing was happening in More Blood but he didn’t want to kill Yui because he loved her. The way I understood it was he’d rather be the one to kill you than to see you die slowly and painfully without him being able to do anything. Plus, if he was the one to try to kill you, you’d probably resent him and it’d make his life easier. You wouldn’t be nice to him anymore. It’d be something normal, predictable. Something he’s used to, because, let’s face it, he doesn’t know how to handle genuine compassion. But then you don’t. You don’t hate him for trying to murder you- in fact, you welcome it. And this confuses him. You’re not supposed to act like this, it just makes his job harder. Why aren’t you doing anything the way it’s supposed to be done? The way he’s used to. And so, he thinks it’s a problem with him. So he turns that knife on himself, and it takes you getting hurt for him to realize that getting rid of himself wouldn’t accomplish anything either.

Also, as I said before, Daisuke Hirakawa’s performance is AMAZING in this. I’m obsessed with, I can’t remember if it’s Track 3 or 4, but the scene where you’re in the school infirmary and have a coughing fit. He obviously freaks out and his voice deepens in worry. But then. When he leaves, he puts on that happy mask. His voice lightens, and it’s back to that higher-pitched sound it was originally. And that made me want to SMACK him. Like, sir- STOP. Stop hiding behind that mask, it’s obvious you’re worried. Come on.

When Laito’s thinking to himself, when he has that mental breakdown in Track 4, the way his voice shakes and deepens and how he yells and curses and punches a wall and just- AUGHHH. This man. He so obviously cares, but he doesn’t know what to do with all of these feelings he’s never had to deal with before. I just…. God.

Sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted. If you can’t tell, I’ve had this rant in my head for a WHILE. He just makes me so ILL. Please, people, send in more Laito related asks, I have so many thoughts-

[grailfinders]

Grailfinders Viewers' Choice #29: Alice Kuonji

today on grailfinders I desperately see how broken a character who does nothing themselves can be, because we’re making Alice Kuonji from Tsukihime, but she’s also in FGO now, so at least I’m saving myself a future headache. Alice is a Necromancer Wizard because we need an ungodly amount of magic, and also necromancers are just better summoners if all you want to do is summon. ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵉˢ, ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵒʸˢ ⁽ᵖʳᵒᵇᵃᵇˡʸ⁾ ᵃʳᵉⁿ’ᵗ ᶻᵒᵐᵇᶦᵉˢ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈᵒ ʳᵉᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗ ᵃ “ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ” ᵃᵍᵉ

well I thought I was being clever.

anyways, check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here! I’m taking the next month off as far as vc builds go since I already have a sizeable backlog I need to catch up on and summer isn’t doing me any favors, so the next poll will hopefully be in August!

Ancestry & Background

starting things off nice and normal, Alice is a Satyr.

okay hear me out.

in the nasuverse, Alice Kuonji is a Witch, which is actually a type of fey, and thus not a human. while there are several races of fey that can be played in D&D, a lot of them can be ruled out quickly. Centaurs have the wrong number of limbs and focus on physical attacks, Faeries are just too small to work, and Changelings have a central conceit that we wouldn’t use in any capacity.

that leaves us with Hexblood, which is… fine, I guess, I guess you can use the eerie tokens as more familiars, but Satyrs are one of the most powerful races you can pick in D&D, and Alice is kind of busted, so it fits a bit better. besides, we’ll have plenty of familiars from magic alone, don’t worry.

as a Satyr you are, of course, a Fey, so spells like Hold Person straight up don’t work on you- already off to a great start for your immortality. you can Ram people which is not something we’re using, but your Magical Resistance more than makes up for it by giving you advantage on all saves against all magic. your Mirthful Leaps let you add extra distance to your long and high jumps, which actually fits rather well with your ability to levitate, and as a Reveler you get extra proficiencies. I’m actually going to keep Performance for a lil somethin’-somethin’ later, but you get Deception too, to hide your true nature from humans.

most of your ploys come from your ancestors, making you an Inheritor of their power. that gives you proficiency with Survival and Arcana.

Ability Scores

first is Intelligence- a lot of your ploys have weird conditions and drawbacks you have to keep in mind when you fight, so you have to fight smart. second is Wisdom- you’re actually not that great with the modern world, so most of your actual knowledge isn’t book smarts. of course, wisdom doesn’t have a mechanical benefit here, so it’s lower. third is Constitution. it’s not how much you can bleed, but how hard you can get hit and keep getting up. you have like 18 guts stacked on you by default, so… that’s a lot. your Dexterity is just above average to hopefully keep you alive until level 20. that means your Charisma isn’t great- you’re a shut-in among mages, which is really saying something. of course, we’re dumping Strength. you have other people to do that stuff for you. well, not people, but still.

Class Levels

1. at level one, all wizards get an Arcane Recovery, so once per day you can regain a few spell slots on your short rest, with the total level of all the slots equaling half your level, rounded up. speaking of, you also learn Spells, which you cast and prepare using your Intelligence. since you use a spellbook for these, you can also learn spells by copying them down from other wizards, and with six spells now and two more every level, you won’t be left wanting.

that being said I don’t have all day to exhaustively talk about every spell you’ll learn as you level up, so I’ll break them down into two categories: Familiars and Spells that Make You Die Less. if a spell doesn’t fit into either of these categories, or there’s something specific I want to point out, I’ll do it here, otherwise check the character sheet for the full spell list.

that being said, there’s two spells at level 1 I need to touch on- Detect Magic, because everyone needs an information dump at some point so they can follow along, and Fog Cloud. it’s not exactly Flat Snark just yet, but it’s a start.

2. second level necromancers become Necromancers, so you’re a necromancy savant, so copying necromancy spells is faster and cheaper. you also can reap a Grim Harvest, so whenever you kill a living creature with a spell you get double the spell’s level back in HP (or three times if it’s a necromancy spell). I don’t think this really works for Alice, but we don’t really use it in this build anyway, since you tend to use summons, so it’s never really “you��� killing anything. the first couple levels are a bit slow, but things pick up when we can actually summon stuff, don’t worry.

you also learn Sleep this level though. No real reason for it tbh, but it felt like a faerie tale thing a witch would do, which is kind of your MO.

3. at third level you learn second level spells, so now you can make Darkness happen whenever you want. this doesn’t actually make it nighttime, so it doesn’t really affect your spells, but I figured I’d get it anyway as an homage.

4. use your first Ability Score Improvement to round up your Constitution and Intelligence to cast better and live long enough to cast even better later. remember, bonuses to your constitution affect your health retroactively, so you get 4 extra HP this level!

Prestidigitation is the cantrip you give someone when they’re just good at everything, and Alice can levitate, so… Levitate.

5. fifth level wizards get third level spells, and while I won’t go into much detail, you can celebrate gaining your first summoning spell, Summon Fey. you’ve had a couple ploys by now, but this is the first time one’s been really able to help you in battle.

6. at level six you can command Undead Thralls, giving you the Animate Dead spell for free, and whenever you summon undead, they come out with extra HP and damage. while this encourages us to stick only to undead, ploys are whatever the hell you want them to be, so feel free to experiment with the other summoning spells. like Tiny Servant! now you can make an adorable teapot minion to carry out your will. if you overcharge the spell, you can make a whole cutlery drawer do your bidding!

7. seventh level wizards get fourth level spells, and surprise surprise it’s more summoning!

8. at eighth level you gain the Gift of the Metallic Dragon instead of an Ability Score Improvement, so you learn Cure Wounds for a solid healing factor, and Protective Wings, giving you an even better shield. well, it’s not better yet, but shield is +5 AC and this right now is +3, but without using spell slots.

9. ninth level wizards get fifth level spells- Bigby’s Hand is our best simulacrum of a giant murderous you… for now, so I guess this is Flat Snarp’s final form… or is it?

10. tenth level necromancers are Inured to Undeath, so you resist necrotic damage and your HP total can’t be reduced. period. this is a secret tool that will help us later.

also, if you really want a great shield you can use Otiluke’s Resilient Sphere to lock yourself in a resilient sphere. nothing can pass into or out of the sphere, so make sure you summon your lackeys before hiding away in it.

actually don’t do that, most summons require concentration, as does this spell. once again, the rules of dnd prevent us from having a good time in dnd, shame.

11. eleventh level wizards get sixth level spells, and now you can create a Wall of Ice. the moon throws icebergs at people sometimes, don’t ask me for context. also you can Create Undead this level, but only at night! just like your ploys, eh? that’s what we call “flavor”. just. don’t actually lick the zombies.

12. in your final NP you kind of… become the snarp? I guess? so that’s why Tasha’s Otherworldly Guise is here.

13. thirteenth level wizards get seventh level spells, and you can turn the entire world into a fantasy land thanks to Mirage Arcane, letting you warp everything around you whenever you so wish. you can also create your own ploys this level using Create Magen. it’s worth pointing out that this spell normally has the drawback of permanently reducing your max HP, but we can safely ignore that because you’re a necromancer.

14. at fourteenth level you can Command Undead, forcing an undead creature under your control until you take someone else over. you can also use this on intelligent undead, but it won’t last nearly as long. your best ploys are someone else’s anyway, so it works.

15. at fifteenth level you can use eighth level spells, like Control Weather. I’m pretty sure this also can’t make it turn to night, but I’d let you do it, fuck it it’s an eighth level spell.

16. sixteenth level wizards get another ASI, to bump up your Constitution again. you can also use Telekinesis now. sometimes the moon throws a carnival at people, it’s fine don’t worry about it.

17. seventeenth level wizards get ninth level spells. Invulnerability makes you invulnerable, and True Polymorph lets you turn random objects into faerie-tale creatures. it turns out the rule-breaking ultramage really likes ninth level spells, go figure.

18. eighth level wizards learn Spell Mastery, letting you cast one 1st level spell and one 2nd level spell for free at will, so you know we have to grab Find Familiar and Levitate. you have way too many familiars and levitation is just something you do for funsies, it all fits.

also, you get Wish. yeah that’s just a thing you can do, idk how there’s any kind of plot with you around I’ll be honest.

19. use your last ASI to grab the Tough feat for 40 more HP. yep.

20. with our last level you get the wizard capstone, Signature Spells, two third level spells that you always have prepared, and they also get a free cast each day. so of course we’re getting Animate Dead and Tiny Servant. whimsical and horrifying, all in one go!

Pros & Cons

Pros:

thanks to the power of necromancy, building and maintaining an army of 30 ploys is not only possible, but not even close to the upper limit you can wield. you could even get the actual 108 you brag about all the time! not only that, but you’re not just limited to shambling corpses, having access to various kinds of fey, elementals, and magen to make some clever clogs under your control.

invulnerability makes you completely immune to damage for ten minutes, which is a long time for a wizard to be able to do whatever the fuck they want. even before that, you’re pretty durable for a spellcaster, with almost 200 HP, access to your own healing, and even having the option to clone yourself and come back time after time.

you have Wish, so you can literally just do whatever you want, forever. yes you have a good chance to lose the spell forever if you abuse it, but still, using it the right way once can end any problem you could possibly have.

Cons:

like most spellcasters, the good shit comes in the endgame, so you’ll have to survive a pretty long time on your lonesome first. you don’t even get any summons until level 5, so hopefully that’s when your campaign starts.

invulnerability is nice, but most of your damaging spells that aren’t zombie-related require concentration, so you’ll have to choose between turtling and living forever or doing stuff and being at risk. if you’re playing to character the former is the correct answer, but it might not be that fun in-game.

that ploy army requires upkeep, and the more you make the more spell slots will be used on just those zombies day after day. at a point, your zombies will be getting taken out in one hit, so just keep that in mind before you burn half your slots each morning.

[charcubed]

Look, I personally lose nothing if Lokius doesn’t become explicit canon. And if that were to become the case, I’d also have no regrets for saying for years that that would happen in the show by the end ¯_(ツ)_/¯

I’ve said it before, but by now it would be Disney/Marvel’s loss, NOT mine. Whoever wasted or limited the potential would be the idiot, not me.

I’m simply never gonna feel crazy for noticing what’s happening in a story or silly for daring to hope it’ll be brought to fully satisfying narrative completion. That's just a me thing. Maybe this is because at heart I’m stubborn! But I’d like to think I’m not unreasonable. I can’t control whether writing stays consistent or censorship is overcome... But I just do my best to construct solid arguments, and as long as those arguments remain solid, I stand by them :)

I know not everyone would say the same, or they consider this to be "hope" or "optimism," but I see it as logic based in noticing what the text of a show/story is doing. And personally I also consider blatantly evident subtext to be "canon enough," so if we get my personal minimum, my happiness may still outweigh any potential disappointment for me.

However. Here's what I've come here to say today, in reaction to things I've seen floating around in the fandom:

While I do understand on some level why people worry that Lokius won’t be more explicitly canonically romantic because it could be censored by Disney.... At this point, I don’t understand how people can think Loki/Sylvie will still happen.

As of right now, there’s no way to argue for that in my opinion. (I'd like to see someone try.)

The show has set up a fun but very simple situation from basically the start:

They made romantic love a point of relevance in the show’s story. More specifically, they pointed out Loki's desire for a "real" romantic love, and had him learn the lesson that he doesn't deserve to be alone. They didn't HAVE to do all of those things and tie them together. They CHOSE to make romantic love relevant – and they have actively continued to choose to do that, to the point of including a mirrored dark love triangle in s2 ep3. That narrative thread simply has to be fulfilled.

So if they deliberately established that Loki wants and needs a “real” love, and his relationship with Sylvie was referred to as "fiction" so she cannot be a real love for him.... Who does it have to be?

Obviously it has to be Mobius. And of course, the whole show points to Lokius also, for countless more reasons than just this simple breakdown. But pointing this element out is the simplest argument one can make.

So either...

1. They take Lokius to full narrative completion with explicit canon, as they should and as I expect them to,

or

2. Loki's desire for a real love is left unfulfilled, open-ended, and/or made clear through subtext that it's Mobius.

Those are the options, if you ask me!

This is aside from how Lokius’ love story is now even at the core of the show’s themes and plot, which is an insanely strong vote in favor for their future canonicity.

But for the purposes of this post, I’m talking about whether we'll get explicit romance specifically, like a love confession or a kiss – and I do actually genuinely think we'll get both of those things. I'm not trying to force you to agree with me, but just to be clear, that's where I'm at with it and have been since 2021 lol.

So in regards to worrying about Loki/Sylvie...

They were never really a romance (yes, even in season 1) and they sure as hell aren't now. I can’t imagine they'll become one even IF Lokius is left subtextual.

So what actually remains to be seen is if the writers got to go all the way with Lokius, or if that central queer love story was censored on some level in the end.

My hot take is no one should be ~worrying~ about Sylki at this stage of the game. Free yourselves, people.

If the story starts abruptly going in a Sylki direction, even with only 3 episodes left, I will certainly be the first to say so lol. But I simply sincerely, truly doubt that'll happen.

(Hot take in the footer: this is not the post to get into this at length, but in case this comes up… In this house we do not use the word "queerbaiting." It is a useless, nearly-meaningless, insufferable term that devalues the legitimacy of subtext and queercoding more often than not; it's rooted in the idea that media must hit arbitrary and inconsistent checklists often set with cishet approval in mind; and it perpetuates a focus on the false and harmful myth that many creators are "cowards" instead of leaving room for nuance and the fact that industry censorship still exists.)

[astralwukong]

Jealous Blake breakdown lmao

yang makes a comment about diana and blake realizes yang has eyes for the first time since meeting her because yang has always been eyes on her since day 1 and blake is not used to it lmao. “AAND??” she’s pissed lmao and i was on the floor

yang proposes to bring diana to atlas and blake is immediately like I’M COMING WITH YOU and laughs nervously. the funniest part if that 3 seconds apart ren does the exact same thing when victor says he wants to go kill grimm with nora, so like for those wondering, yes, this was 100% intended as jealousy lmao also jealous renora and jealous bumbleby parallels all over this movie, i lived

in the airship blake brings up how much her relationship with yang improved an awful lot like im sorry but she’s marking the territory lmaoooo no seriously maybe she wasn’t doing it on purpose but she was all over this out of the blue so im taking it as subconsciously wanting to draw the boundary lmao

finally after all the talk they had with diana, blake asks yang to open the airship so she and diana can fight the grimm and yang is uncertain about it obviously, so blake takes the opportunity looks at diana then back at yang and goes “well, you HEARD DIANA, we’re warriors” in the most mocking tone like sorry she’s like, you wanna see strong women there you go bitch lmao i can play this game too. and she goes fight the grimm like she’s definitely not showing off lmao. I’m utterly obsessed with the subtle roast im sorry but this woman is territorial it drives me nuts lmao

overally im glad it wasn’t like....exagerated or bordering unhealthy, which could have been a worry of mine. it was just very cute and played as a joke and it got resolved immediately, by the middle of the movie they all forgot about it and actually i got the vibe that both blake and yang were both a little into diana lol. renora’s jealousy arc was uhm nasty, for comparison, like they actually almost fought about it but that’s probably because the movie is set during v7 and i mean you can see that renoras are not doing well, plus victor was purposely causing the drama while diana was not. you can tell both the bees end up being fond of diana’s friendship!! and they also have some sweet talks all three of them soooo. yeah, it was very lovely!!

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova’s Notes - Dracula Daily - May 25 + 26

The Suitor Squad speaks!!! Ahhh love them <3

Checking in with my favorite wet cat man, Seward is….not doing too well. Let’s listen to his podcast, shall we?

“Ebb tide in appetite to-day. Cannot eat, cannot rest, so diary instead. Since my rebuff of yesterday I have a sort of empty feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth the doing…”

Awwww John :(((( to quote Zuko, “That’s rough, buddy.”

Notice how he speaks here. Of course, beside the obvious abruptness and the fall in his appetite today, he also uses the word “rebuff” to describe Lucy’s rejection. Not to Merriam-Webster you, but I wanted to give a quick definition of rebuff because it actually surprised me when I read it:

“an abrupt or ungracious refusal or rejection of an offer, request, or friendly gesture.”

As expected, John is taking this pretty hard because to call Lucy’s rejection of him “abrupt” or “ungracious” is just…untrue? To be fair, we only had Lucy’s side of the story, but that just doesn’t sound like Lucy. I mean, she literally *cried* at the thought of causing him pain!! I’m not trying to police his words here — obviously, it’s his mental breakdown diary and he gets to choose the language — but it does show that he’s not taking this half so well as Quincey (probably) is, and Lucy totally read the vibes right when she worried about him walking away from this broken-hearted. Bro is in the trenches here.

Soooooo he turns to his work at the asylum for help. He really needs to get some better coping mechanisms, but at least we get to meet Renfield!

“In my manner of doing it there was, I now see, something of cruelty. I seemed to wish to keep him to the point of his madness—a thing which I avoid with the patients as I would the mouth of hell. [paragraph break] (Mem., under what circumstances would I not avoid the pit of hell?) Omnia Romæ venalia sunt. Hell has its price! verb. sap”

One thing I love about Dracula is that all of these characters have their own little quirks when talking. Stoker does a fairly good job of giving each character a unique “voice”, which I appreciate. Jonathan writes in a fairly meticulous way with long paragraphs of describing landscapes (plus, “lizard fashion”, of course). Mina writes in much the same way, but different. She seems to break into a more playful style of writing, as you can see with her “???” and “two-pages-to-the-week-with-Sunday-squeezed-in-a-corner-diaries”. Lucy, of course, probably has the most unique voice so far because her letters seem to be written impulsively. In one sentence, she laments how miserable Seward and Quincey are and in the next she celebrates how perfectly happy she is. It’s an active and emotional stream of consciousness we get to see unfold in her letters and — I’ll bet — in the way she talks.

Seward is a new voice and he already is showing a few quirks here. It’s interesting to see how this voice changes since we know he’s actually *speaking* these words, not just writing them down. Unethical behavior with Renfield aside (stop baiting the patients Seward!!!!), notice how he makes a mem. for a rhetorical question.

I find this fascinating because Jonathan does this mem., or memorandum, when he wants to remember something — such as recipes for Mina. But Seward does it when he wants to self-depreciate his own phrasing. Unless, he’s seriously asking the question to remember for later, which he might honestly be due to his next sentences (and in that case, oooooh buddy you’re going to be regretting asking that in a few months). He hits us with a Latin phrase which translates to (from what I could find), “All Rome is for sale” and then ANOTHER ONE which means “a word to the wise” or “enough said”.

What can we garner from this? Other than liking Latin, John likes self-deprecation and also philosophical thoughts about hell, or at least the metaphor of it — and that’s what he wants to save for later. Very interesting!!!

Describing Renfield (who’s 59, huh), I like how he touches on selfish vs. unselfish influences and how that affects humans. I find it interesting that, contrary to popular belief, being unselfish is what Seward would consider to be more dangerous — though it makes sense from his logic.

A selfish person would keep themselves close and be cautious about putting themselves in too much danger. After all, your life is not worth much if you put it at risk and that’s even more true in an asylum. Using “armor” and a “centripetal force” with self as the “fixed point” as metaphors for this kind of behavior is fascinating.

Meanwhile, someone “unselfish” or to put it a different way, acting under the influence of someone else for some unnamed reason (duty, love, etc.) will likely stop at nothing to achieve that goal once they’re put on it. It’s also dangerous to another person because they might not know what that goal is — and might end up being collateral damage as a result. Seward is keen to find out what Renfield’s reasoning is because he doesn’t want to be that collateral damage (and because he’s a curious, semi-unethical doctor buutttt). I like how he adds that only a series of accidents can balance this kind of centripetal force. Thanks for the metaphorical science lessons, Seward!

On to Quincey, my beloved. <333 His letter is to Arthur!

“We've told yarns by the camp-fire in the prairies; and dressed one another's wounds after trying a landing at the Marquesas; and drunk healths on the shore of Titicaca.”

So from the opening lines, we can gather that Quincey and Arthur (and yes, Seward too) have been globetrotting together! Because Titicaca is in South America and the Marquesas happens to be a collective of islands in the Southern Pacific Ocean. Quincey later refers to Seward as their “old pal at the Korea” which *could* mean Korea the country, or as this forum comment section speculates, could also mean the Korea Strait.

It’s super sweet that while Quincey and John want to drown their sorrows in wine, Quincey doesn’t hesitate to invite Arthur to celebrate his engagement to the love of his life as well as theirs oof!

It does seem like Quincey didn’t know before that Arthur was the one Lucy was in love with, because he seemed to speak vaguely to Lucy that he “must be a good fellow if you loved him” and “he’ll have to deal with me if he doesn’t know his happiness”. But, to me, it seems a little too much like what you would say to your friend if you didn’t know the other person. I’m getting a generic “he’ll date you if he knows what’s good for him” vibe.

My guess? Arthur probably wrote to Quincey saying “I’m engaged!!! To Lucy!!!” because they do all know each other and are friends, but maybe Arthur hadn’t wanted to share his feelings with the boy group just yet (he seems like a private person, since Lucy couldn’t get a read on his feelings) or wanted to keep it a surprise until he knew for sure his feelings were reciprocated. Of course, once Quincey received this letter, he put together that “ohhhh Art was my rival the whole time” and probably slapped his knee about the whole thing. It doesn’t stop him from inviting him to the next gathering, though!

The other theory I have is that all three of them knew they loved Lucy and each amicably agreed to still be friends, no matter who she chose (if she chose any of them). It would definitely make sense since Quincey talks about him and Seward “mingling their weeps” as if Arthur would know what he means by that. Additionally, it would make sense, since they all know each other pretty well and likely would know if they all were in love with the same woman, right? That could be why Seward and Quincey were so quick to ask if there was someone else — I mean, yes, that’s always the obvious ask when your proposal fails — but this could add another layer of meaning to their asking.

As for Quincey’s generic approach, that could be explained by him not knowing whether it was Seward or Arthur that Lucy loved (or, perhaps, an unknown third person) and he didn’t want to ask Lucy who it was in that moment, figuring he would find out later if it was indeed one of his friends.

No matter the theory, this letter says a lot about Quincey’s character! He’s obviously a good and honest man for not hesitating to invite his friend to the gathering, even when that friend is engaged to the woman he’s in love with as well. There’s not a lot more to be said about this that hasn’t already been said — but yeah, Quincey is definitely in my top 3 favorite Dracula characters and this is part of why.

Finally, Art’s letter to Quincey!

“Count me in every time. I bear messages which will make both your ears tingle.”

As this is a telegram, he has to make this short and sweet. But make your ears tingle??? Art???? Lol, I’m presuming this is about the proposal or about some other hot gossip (if it’s explained later, I genuinely forgot — again, it’s been two years since I’ve read the book and I keep feeling more and more like a first time reader).

Either way, I hope this is the year we stop calling Arthur boring (if we haven’t already), because he already doesn’t sound boring from just this message and it’s in telegram format.

He sounds like a guy you’d like to party with. “Count me in every time”, “make your ears tingle”? Sounds like a party guy to me! And obviously, he had to be fun-loving and resourceful enough to Quincey if they’ve traveled the world together (and, maybe have seen combat? — not quite clear on that one).

I’ll definitely be keeping a close eye on Arthur this read around. Since I was among the people that called him boring in 2022, I want to see if there’s more to him than meets the eye!

[hiccupbutpurple]

Don't know if youre still taking asks for the WIP thing, but

-Half runaway AU - Vigcup ?

Damn this has been here for so long I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long! I will always take any excuse to talk about the random fics I have lol! I don’t have my laptop rn so I’m just gonna have to go off memory.

This is basically one of the fic ideas that I had cause of Vigcup week way back then before I got distracted with a bunch of other plot lines and whatnot, it’s also what lead me to writing one of my published wips which has kinda replaced it. I’m probably never gonna actually publish it cause the main fun elements if it I’m adding to that fic, so I’ll do a full rundown. (Also I’m fairly sure I was inspired by CantMakeMyMind on Ao3’s fic Dragon Soul).

- Hiccup is half living on Berk and half out exploring. He mainly just spends his time around the archipelago (trying to avoid the villages that would report him to Stoick) until he’s older because he was worried people would be suspicious of him leaving. After years of spending more and more time away, he realises he can just start leaving for days (using camping or something as an excuse if necessary but considering he’s not making trouble for Berk they aren’t too concerned).

- He goes out and discovers the hunters and he tries his best to avoid them until he is captured by Viggo. Hiccup is used to Vikings hunting dragons (also he hasn’t defeated the red death just yet so there’s still raids happening) but bonding happens after he gets captured. Viggo is actually willing to listen to him (basically the first human to do so) which endears him to Hiccup, likewise Viggo is impressed by his intelligence and they are more willing to try understanding each other. During this time Viggo also meets his Skrill and they bond, setting off the trend of Vikings having peace but it’s mich harder with the Queen still in control.

- As they work together more they start to fall for one another and soon Hiccup opens up about Berk. Viggo is constantly trying to get him to leave Berk and join them fully but Hiccup wants to protect the dragons and try and make peace. There’s some B plots with Gobber trying to work out what Hiccup is doing too since he’s suspicious of him, especially when he noticed Hiccup feeding the dragons extra fish and the dragons in the arena keep escaping.

- Hiccup is going in and out of Berk and the hunters, but after Stoick is nearly killed, Hiccup decides that he and Toothless should go and attack the nest. Hiccup never had the character growth he did in canon, or the connections, so I feel like his immaturity and lacking impulse control is heightened (more then it already is at least). It’s also a bit of a breaking point considering how stressful secrets are, the war, meeting new people and his unresolved trauma.

- At the same time, Viggo decides that if Hiccup won’t give up on Berk fully, he’ll basically call out Berk for its treatment of Hiccup himself and solve the war (and maybe make the relationship a definite thing in the process). He arrives after Hiccup leaves and everyone on Berk is like ‘who the hell is this, why the hell is there a fricken Skrill, and why does he want Hiccup.’ That’s when they realise Hiccup is gone again. After noticing the burns on Stoick, and finding Hiccups normal travelling bag still in the forge, and some helpful tips from Gobber, he puts the pieces together and flies off to save Hiccup.

- They get to the nest (which he and Hiccup has discussed on a few occasions) and finds a downed Hiccup and Toothless near the Red Death’s body. Toothless is awake and shows him Hiccup with a half bitten off leg. Viggo then does the amputation and cares for him back at his headquarters. (This was one of the main plots for one of my og Day One Vigcup week fic lol)

- Everyone on Berk is left to wonder what happened for weeks, some thinking it was a trick (traveling Viggo = Odin) or Hiccup being kidnapped or something, (Stoick is having a nervous breakdown) until Hiccup finally returns. Explanations are given, vigcup kisses are shared and after teaching them a little more about dragons, Hiccup’s work is done and he decides to join Viggo to travel, help the hunters make money without hunting, and be in love. Gobber still lives under the belief that Viggo is Odin, the eyepatch doesn’t help.

[forever-rogue]

cute Steve idea got to me and it won't leave. 😫 husband! Steve and reader are talking about kids and they both get super excited about the idea. and when they talk about it more Steve notices the reader slowly drifting,staring into space. then she says she worries about not being the mom that a child needs, being good enough for them, because they deserve love. then Steve cheers her up saying " you will be the best mom!" "but I cant take that title away from you, mama steve" fluffy fluff 💜

AN | If you’re going to have babies with someone, I think Stevie’s a good choice 🥺🥰

Warnings | Discussions of children/pregnancy

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 1.1k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Negative.

Despite what you would have thought, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. You heard a knock on the bathroom door that pulled you back to reality and reminded you that your husband was on the other side, also eagerly awaiting an answer. Unfortunately, you knew that his reaction wouldn't be the same as yours.

You opened the door slowly and shook your head as you held out the test to him. He took it gently, his fingers brushing against yours as he looked over the test before turning his attention back to you. He tried to read your expression, and leaned in to press a few soft kisses to your lips. 

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he brushed his thumb over your cheek as you nodded. Suddenly you weren't so sure if you were relieved after all. You did want to have a baby, Steve's baby, but you were terrified of the idea of actually having a baby. It was a complex web of emotions and you couldn't stop the swell of emotions that caused tears to well up in your eyes, "honey."

"I-I don't know, Stevie," you admitted and looked away, not wanting to have a complete breakdown. You knew if you met his eyes, his soft, sweet eyes, you'd cry that much harder, "I-I think I'm alright."

"Hey," he put his finger under your chin and tilted your face up towards him. Your lip trembled as you looked at him and he tutted lightly. He took your hand in his larger, warmer one and started to lightly pull you towards the bedroom, "c'mere."

You sat down at the edge of the bed, hanging your head. Steve got down on his knees in front of you, hands resting on your thighs, "talk to me, sweetheart. What's wrong?"

“Steve,” you put your hand on top of his and gave it a gentle squeeze. You knew what you wanted to say - what you had to say, you just weren’t sure how he would respond. That was the worst part of all, “my first thought was that I was happy it was negative. Relieved.”

“What?” his expression faltered as you looked at him with big, worried doe eyes, “what do you mean? I-I thought…we wanted this? Do you not want to have a baby anymore?”

“N-no, I do,” you promised and he seemed to relax a little, “really. I’m just…getting to this point, where I’m actually testing to see if I’m pregnant makes it seem more real. It is real. But I’m…scared, Stevie.”

“It is scary,” he agreed softly, reaching up to cup your cheek in his hand, “and honestly, I can’t even imagine being in your position, because you’re the one that has to go through a whole pregnancy. I’d probably be more worried if you weren’t nervous, angel.”

“You always know what to say, huh?” you put your hand on top of his and brought it to your lips to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles, “I love you, Steve.”

“I’m your husband,” he grinned; he loved getting to say that and loved telling anyone that would listen that you were his wife, “I’m always here to support you. I love you so, so much.”

“I know,” you slid off the bed and onto the floor, plopping down in front of him. Steve wasted no time in pulling you into his lap and settling his hands on your hips in a firm but gentle grasp, “you are going to be a wonderful father, Steve. Any kid - our kids - are going to be so lucky to call their father. But I…I can’t…I’m worried I won’t be a good mother. I feel like you’re so good with kids and babies - I mean Eddie’s baby adores you and the kids look up to you so much, especially Dustin. And then…there I am. I don’t know if I’ll be a good mom.”

“Baby,” he took your face in his hands and gently peppered soft kisses all over your face, “you are going to be the best mother ever. I have no doubt about that. We are going to be the best parents ever. Or the most metal as Eds would say. You’re going to be the best mom.”

“Steve,” your heart felt like it was full to bursting with his soft words of reassurance. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in and kissing him, “I love you. But no one can replace you, Mama Steve.”

“I love you,” a pretty flush of pastel pink welled up in his cheeks as you looked at him with nothing short of pure adoration, “but I mean it, angel. It’s not going to be easy, I mean we’re going to be bringing a whole new human into the world. A human that we’re going to be responsible for…I think we should be nervous. But I also know that together we’ll be able to figure it out. Look at all the shit we’ve gotten through…we can survive a baby.”

“Yeah,” you worried your bottom lip between teeth before nodding, “I think you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” he teased softly before brushing a few rogue strands of hair out of your face, “hey, we’ve got this. I mean it, baby. And if you ever need a boost or a bit of reassurance, you know I’m here for you. Always, my queen.”

“Such a dork. The kids and Eddie have really gotten to you,” you laughed lightly as a few tears rolled down your cheek. He reached up and gently wiped them away, “thank you, Stevie. I…I really can’t wait to have your baby.”

“I can’t wait to get you pregnant,” he leaned in and nudged your nose with his before kissing you softly, “but, if you want to wait a little bit longer, we can do that too. There’s no rush, no need to do this right away. When you’re ready, we’ll do it.”

“I…I think I am ready,” you promised, “I just…as long as you’re with me, I think - I know we’ll be okay. I might just need a little bit of reassurance every now and then.”

“And I’ll be here to give it to you,” you sighed wistfully as you melted into his arms and let him hold you tightly, “I’ve got you, angel, I’ve always got you. I love you.”

“I love you, Stevie.”