#i love protective found families the most

[luveline]

hello lovely angel!! humbly requesting zombie!steve au, perhaps more of jealous steve? i love their dynamic so much💗 maybe someone is flirting with reader, and enter protective steve:)

thanks for requesting! fem, 2k

You tend to think of it in two weird halves. You love Steve, and you never would’ve known that without the end of the world, so things are okay. Sometimes you wonder if he ever could’ve loved you if he hadn’t been so close to you for so long, but he loves you in this insane capacity of softness that says otherwise. Like, soulmate style. 

It didn’t begin that way. Steve your reluctant guide, and you his unlikely saviour. You’d stopped him from dying at the very start of it all and he couldn’t leave you behind. And Steve, he’d been mean to you. He didn’t want to take care of you initially, but you’d grown to get along. You’d argue black and blue and he’d still rub your back at night. 

There are so many moments you’ve shared that make what you have all the more special. A hundred different memories from before you’d ever kissed. You think about it now, watching him across the firepit as he shows a young girl, Cassandra, how to braid her hair. 

The one that’s sticking today is when Steve got really bad food poisoning for the first time. When you’d known you were in love with him for a while, and when he’d stopped pretending he didn’t know. He’d been sick everywhere, on both your shoes, and you’d rubbed his back through everything.  

It was nice to take care of him. Nicer that night when you’d shared a bed and he’d hugged you half to death. 

He has no idea how much he means to you, or how much those moments with him kept you going when you were all alone. You’re lucky now to have found community, but those stolen hours in bed with him hugging him and getting to be his support, you wouldn’t have made it here without them. 

“Hey.” 

You look up as a man sits down. A boy, a man —what do you call twenty somethings? You don’t feel like a woman most of the time, but you are. 

“Hi,” you say. 

“I’m Jamison.” 

“You’re Eddie’s friend, right?” 

“Who, Munson?” Jamison makes a kidding face, a disgusted scrunch of his eyebrows that falls away to more friendly fondness. “Yeah, we go back. You’re Eddie’s friend too, right? I saw you guys taking out some laundry a few days ago.” 

Jamison is handsome. He has tan skin, short hair, and a crooked nose. His smile is disarming. If you hadn’t fallen in love with the handsomest guy around, you might feel nervous under his gaze. 

Time spent ugly under Steve’s reverent handling makes you confident. You genuinely feel prettier knowing Steve loves you, and it makes it easier to be yourself with strangers. 

“Eddie’s awesome,” you say easily. “I thought he was gonna kill me when we first met, but he’s too nice.” 

“Nice, really?” 

Jamison is casual, as people go. You wonder what his motivations are for talking to you at first, but as conversation stretches, littered with the cracking pops of the fireplace and brief pauses of surprisingly comfortable silence, you realise he’s just talking. Maybe he’s lonely. You know how that feels. 

He tells you that he and Eddie had been in a rock band together before the apocalypse. You’d known to some extent that Eddie was in a band, but Jamison tells you all the details you’d been missing. They were called Corroded Coffin, four members, Eddie played guitar and Jamison thought he was pretty fucking good at it, actually. 

“I don’t think we would’ve been, like, Metallica. But we could’ve been good. We were gonna make a record.” 

You smoke sympathetically. “I bet you could’ve been.” 

“What were you doing? Before all this?” 

“I honestly barely remember,” you say quietly. Your life before Steve is a blur, and it’s painful, too. “Things are harder now, I know that. I wish every day that we could go back to how things were, you know, I miss TV and grocery stores and my family.” You lick your lips. “I wish things were different, but somehow, I think I like my life now. I have stuff to do. Is that crazy?” 

“It’s not crazy. Everything fucking sucks,” —you both laugh— “but that’s not crazy. I’m lucky, I still have my dad, and my friends. There’s purpose in being here.” 

You nod emphatically, just once. “Exactly.” 

You have purpose, now. You get to be a friend, a girlfriend, a confidente. You take care of people. 

It all comes back to Steve, at the end of the day. Would you change the world if it meant never having met him? 

Nope. 

You glance across the fire for him, but he’s not there. 

You put your arm behind your back and bend, looking for him. 

“Looking for someone?” Jamison asks. 

You deflate with relief when you spot him standing near the gaggle of tents about fifty feet away. He’s looking at you from over Robin’s shoulder. You wave, and he waves back with a big smile. 

Something seems a little wrong. 

“Steve,” you explain. 

“He’s your boyfriend, yeah? Eddie told me you’ve been together since the start.” 

You don’t bother correcting him. He might not mean together as how you’re thinking it. “Yeah, that’s him. Have you met him?” 

“Kind of. We all thought he was a huge dick, back then.” 

“He sort of was,” you say. “I mean, we all had our own stuff going on. I get that I’m biased, but he’s my favourite person I’ve ever met. He’s so kind, I don’t think I could describe it to you or anyone just how much he cares about people. I wouldn’t be here without him, and… I don’t know, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but if you ever wanted to meet him again, he’s amazing. He’s a great friend. He’s so fucking funny, he makes me laugh every day.” 

“He’s sort of giving me the stink eye,” Jamison says. 

You wave your hand weakly. “He has raging jealousy issues.” 

“Shit, am I getting you in trouble?” 

“No, never!” you say, tempted to laugh. “He doesn’t get mad at me for stuff like that. He’s normal, I promise. Just sensitive.”

You tell Jamison that it was nice talking to him because it really was, but you’ve been missing Steve for hours already and you need to get back to him before you go totally bonkers. 

He’s sitting on the floor in the tent. The weather has been beautiful lately, you could sleep under the stars if you weren’t scared of being zombie charcuterie. Steve has stripped down to just his jeans and socks, no t-shirt or shoes to be seen. He has his sketchbook splayed open on his thigh, but he abandons it the moment you kneel down. 

“Hey,” you say. 

Steve folds his book closed, pencil between its pages. “Hi. Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?” 

You shuffle in to take his hand. Clumsy touches, his fingers warm and a tad clammy between yours. “You told me yesterday that I have a smile like an angel. I know you were kidding, but I still felt it.” 

“I wasn’t kidding,” he says, wrinkling his nose with a smile. “You think every compliment is a joke.” 

“Don’t make me laugh so much, then.” 

He squeezes your fingers gently. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself to Jamison. Just, I knew him already from school. And he did not like me.” 

“That’s okay. He seemed nice, I think you’d get along if you met now.” You kick your shoes off and crawl as close to him as you can get. He looks up at you, but you look down at his lap. “What are you drawing?” 

“I was just trying to touch up that landscape I did of the river,” he says, a sheepishness to him as he opens his sketchbook. 

You read it with affection, trace lines and hatchings in awe. “Steve, I really wish you had time and space to do this stuff properly. Not that you aren’t doing it properly, just, I know you could make something just as beautiful as this with paint.” You slide to be sitting properly, putting you both at the same height, so you can meet his eyes as you continue. “Did you know what you wanted to do, when you were finishing school? Did you ever think about art?” 

“I thought about it.” His lips quirk. “Mostly about how my dad would’ve kicked me out if I said something that stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid.” 

“I know.” 

That would’ve been a nice life. You and Steve living together, with a basement for his paintings, or a garage turned studio. You’d read books together every night like you do now, and you’d scrub paint smudges off of his cheek. 

You love him so much it must give you an aura. 

“I’ve got nothing to worry about, huh?” he asks softly. 

You drift in, tipping your head back for a kiss you don’t take. “I don’t know, Steve, Jamison used to be in a rock band.” 

He scoffs in disgust. You think it might be a mixture of anger at Jamison and himself. “Who wants to date a rockstar?” 

“I might’ve.” 

You’re teasing, of course, smiling as your kiss draws nearer, and nearer. 

“Well, I can be a rockstar,” he says quietly, warmth of his breath on your lips. “Just give me a chance to get there.” 

You brush the tip of your nose against his and hold your breath. “That’s okay,” you say, letting it rush out of you in a huff, your excitement to be kissed too much to bear, “I like my guys all mixed up. Preferably good at track, and swimming, but with a soft side. Kind of guy who fills a sketchbook up with my face.” 

Steve lists to the side. Your lips are so close, you can feel the phantom of them against yours as he moves in. “It’s not just your face… it’s your hands, your arms… your everything–”

He cuts his own explanation off with a soft kiss. That softness swiftly hardens, turns rough, ten long seconds of sweetness before his hands coming up behind your head and he’s pressing inward, deepening the kiss, and giving you little room to breathe. 

You have no intention of dating any rockstars, but his jealous streak has nothing but upsides for you. Steve knows that his jealousy over the innocuous is his own problem, his own insecurity that he’s working on, and while you sympathise with him (after all, haven’t you yourself worried he’d find someone else he liked more?), you have to confess to enjoying the edge to his kissing. 

You make a pleased, humoured sound as he breathes you in like you’re a drug he’s been waiting for. He gets sloppier, and you can’t help pulling away to laugh. 

“What?” he asks, thumbing at your cheek in a soft juxtaposition. “Sorry, am I being a dick?” 

“No, it’s fine. Kiss me how you want to.” 

Steve kisses your cheek softly. “He knows you have a boyfriend, right?” 

“He knows.” 

Steve hums like he’s smiling and nudges your nose with his, until you part your lips, and he wades in for another dose. 

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Eddie is in the middle of his biggest campaign yet, meanwhile you're sick and while out for errands you end up running into your ex.

Slight Dom vibes from Eddie. Older Eddie x reader (Eddie is 42, reader is late twenties) protective Eddie. 18+

❤️

"The campaign is the biggest one I've planned yet and all the guys are excited for it. I'll be m.i.a for a little while so try and behave while I'm gone" you sprawl across his bed and love the way his eyes darken at the sight of your naked body.

"I guess. It's more fun when I misbehave though" you reply impishly and that makes Eddie smirk just a little bit.

Sweetheart are you going to be good for me or not?" Eddie asks patiently while you pout and settle back on the bed.

"Maybe" you shrug and Eddie shakes his head torn between adoration for you and exasperation. He leans down to kiss you, loses himself in the sensation for a moment or two.

He can't get enough of kissing you, he can't get enough of feeling your body pressed against his and watching you come undone. He can't get enough of spending time with you and being with him.

He's never felt like this before until you, just so full of love and adoration. For the first time in his life he's actually considering postponing a campaign but eventually the little nagging voice inside of his head (that sounds suspiciously like Dustin) forces him out the door.

"If you need anything then you call me, okay princess?" you nod along but he knows you would never interrupt a campaign, "I mean if baby anything at all" he's still hesitant to leave but you practically push him out the door.

"Go or we all know Dustin will be here in seconds if You're even a little bit late" he scoffs but knows you're not wrong. The little butthead would send the cavalry.

With I love yous exchanged he's then out of the door and on his way to the campaign.

❤️

You were planning to hit the bookstore in town and then heading to Family Video for a movie to watch while Eddie was gone.

His campaigns were meticulously planned out and you knew this session could last most of the afternoon and some of the night.

It was so hot to watch Eddie when he was so passionate about things he loved and you had even sat in on a campaign or two, made up a character and genuinely enjoyed playing with Eddie and his friends.

Truly it would have been nice to join him today but you had been feeling out of sorts since last night and Eddie refused to get you any more sick, he had gently ordered you to rest up as much as possible and call him on the landline the minute you felt worse.

It took long enough to even get him out of the door to even go to campaign so there was no way you were interrupting him after he had spent so much time on it, you had your movies, medicine and a new book, along with soup and hot cocoa. You would be fine.

The fresh air helped and it was always lovely to see Hawkins in the fall, the gorgeous oranges, rust and golden hues of the trees, the chill in the air and Halloween decorations dotted around the town.

Your peace ends up interrupted by a very unwelcome figure. Your ex. Alastair.

"Has the freak left you all alone today?" You ignore Alastair and walk past him. God what did you see in that asshole? It was only a couple of months but you should have seen that he was a douchebag from the start.

Thankfully you had dumped him and moved on. You had found Eddie who treated you like a queen, who adored you and loved you so much.

"I'm talking to you. Stupid bitch" Alastair snarls and he grabs your arm. The violent tug makes you lose your balance and you stumble.

"Let of me" you snap and his face turns puce but before he can do anything else someone blocks him from your view.

"Clear off dickhead" its Steve and he's glaring at Alastair whose face drains of colour.

"You know I'm glad it's that freak who has you now. At some point he will get sick of your bullshit as well" he snarls and walks away.

You're teary and just want to go home. The glow of your perfect morning with Eddie is long gone.

"You okay?" Steve asks kindly and you nod still feeling shaky. You're furious that Alastair has ruined your day and gotten under your skin again, tears of fury blur your vision and Steve softens.

"Come on. I'll walk you home"

❤️

When you head back to Eddie's trailer your head is pounding and Alastair's words play on your mind. It was no good giving that assholes opinions the time of day, the thing is he always managed to say things that got under your skin or that he knew would hurt the most.

It was hard to ignore him and even though you shake up you still refuse to call Eddie. In all honesty you were nervous to say anything about this. He was so protective of you that you worried he would actually knock Alastair out for grabbing you like that.

You didn't want Eddie in trouble so you resolved to keep quiet. Though if Alastair came near you again you were absolutely kicking him in his tiny little balls.

...

You had been strangely quiet since Eddie had arrived back home, usually you were slightly mischievous, chatty and would tell him all about your day. He told you all about the campaign and how well it had gone, you seemed genuinely excited but there was still something bugging you that Eddie couldn't figure out.

Were you still feeling sick?

"Eddie, do you get sick of me sometimes?" the question hangs in the air and Eddie gapes, what? Where the fuck was this coming from?

"Of course not sweetheart. Why would you ever think that?" You shake your head and cuddle up close to him. He held you tightly, trying to soothe away what was worrying you. What happened from this morning to now?

"No reason, I just wondered that's all" he frowns and holds you closer to him, determined to let you know how much you mean to him.

"I love you sweetheart. I could never get sick of you. Please never think like that because it will never happen" the words seem to relax you but Eddie is still suspicious about why those thoughts were even on your mind.

He's determined to find out and he doesn't have to wait very long.

❤️

Steve visits that afternoon and Eddie's worries deepen when he asks if you're okay after yesterday.

"What happened yesterday?" he knew there was something that was bothering you. He should have pressed a little bit more last night but he knew you would tell him in time. He's anxious now that it's something really bad.

It must be judging from your question last night, something had put those thoughts on your mind and now he was closer to finding out what.

Steve frowns. "Did she not tell you that dickhead of an ex was hounding her?" Eddie freezes and shakes his head.

"Shit no, she looked like she wanted to tell me something all night but kept closing up. I should have known it would be something to do with him" he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to control his anger.

Not that he was angry at you, no way. However he was angry at your ex and his inability to leave you alone. Anytime Alastair saw you it caused him to act like a complete dick, he's pretty sure the guy must naturally be an ass or he didn't like the fact that you dumped his ass.

Either way Eddie wasn't going to let the little fucker away with hurting you. He thanks Steve for telling him and for being there for you, even though he wishes he could have been there himself.

He doubts very much your ex would have said anything when he was around and was one of those people who liked to get their targets on their own.

Once Steve leaves you arrive back home shortly after, you kiss his cheek and take your bag full of groceries into the kitchen.

Eddie follows you and wraps his arms around your waist while trailing soft kisses over your neck.

"Hey princess, Steve came over today to ask how you were after yesterday" you stiffen for a few seconds but relax when he soothes you.

"That was sweet of him. I guess he told you what happened with Alastair? I've been meaning to tell you, it's just trying to find the right words but yeah he was his usual self and he grabbed me..." You turn to him but he's extremely quiet.

You must notice the dangerous glint in his eyes because you cup his cheek and reassure him that you're fine and everything is okay.

Eddie holds you close and kisses you, he's fuming that your ex dared put his hands on you and you quietly tell him the rest of what happened and by the end of it he's pissed.

"I love you so much sweetheart, so fucking much and if that asshole bothers you again then I swear I'll knock his teeth out" he seethes and you shake your head not wanting that to happen.

"I love you Eddie and I don't want you in trouble for that asshole" you rest your head on his chest and he strokes your hair.

"Oh I won't get into shit but he might" he mutters and plans to have a word with your shitty ex. There was no way that douchebag was getting away with hurting you.

"Eddie" you warn him and sigh when you get one of his charming smiles in return.

"I promise you princess that I won't harm a hair on his head even if he deserves it" Eddie vows and you nod believing him. Whatever he had planned though would likely be something Alastair would never forget.

...

Funnily enough Alistair doesn't bother you again and when you ask Eddie about it he simply says they had a little chat.

Knowing how protective Eddie is you can just imagine how that went. It must have been something that got through to him because in the rare times you did see Alistair out and about in town, his eyes would widen and he'd rush away clutching his privates and letting out a squeal.

"Eddie what the hell did you do?" you ask torn between amusement and exasperation.

"I just told him to leave my girl alone or he'd maybe be an appendage less" he shrugs innocently. "No one tries to hurt you and gets away with it" he kisses your forehead and you stifle a smile as the two of you head back home.

❤️

[tmpestuous]

Moth to a Flame - 7

series masterlist

summary: Bucky Barnes was the love of your life, and you were his. There was no denying it. But after two years of dating, you found yourselves on different paths and decided it was best to go your separate ways. The only problem was how drawn you’d always be to him even after moving on.

pairing: College!Bucky x Reader

warnings: blackmail, angst, toxic relationships, arguments, cheating/infidelity (all over the place..)

word count: 6.5k

a/n: this is a long one… a few time jumps but the next 3 chapters will be a lot closer in timeline. enjoy!

—

Sleep struggled to reach Bucky in the past week; he found himself tossing, turning, and ultimately resolving to staring up at the ceiling until his brain decided to turn off and let his eyes shut. His anxiety had been through the roof, and though it was not a new feeling for him, it felt a lot worse with you at the forefront of his worries.

Natasha and Bucky were the only ones who decided it was worthwhile trying to make amends with you. Well, and Pietro. But their plan to talk to him fell short every time Wanda placed a barrier between her brother and her two friends with the most intense glares.

“He’s not up for talking.”

“Wanda, please,” Natasha pleaded. “You can’t seriously believe that Y/n would be capable of doing something this outrageous.”

“I don’t,” Wanda retorted. “But what else am I supposed to believe? Regardless of if she wanted to keep it a secret or not, she decided to do the former. She didn’t tell anyone. We could have prevented this.”

“But shouldn’t that tell you she’s in this situation a lot deeper than she wants to be?” Bucky questioned.

“It tells me that she still felt the need to protect herself over all of us.”

Bucky sighed to himself at the memory, rubbing his face as he prepared to face the day with yet another 3 hours maximum of rest. Not even a cold shower could wake him up enough, the resolve of shutting his eyes while leaning his head against the shower wall tiles cut short by Steve’s knocking on the door.

Alerting his best friend that he’d be out of the bathroom soon, he shut the water off and quickly made his way back to his room after wrapping his towel around his waist. Thankfully, Bucky knew Natasha would be brewing coffee in the kitchen as the redhead succumbed to a similar path as him. 

After getting dressed, he walked out, seeing the steam of the coffee come from his mug on the kitchen counter, Natasha already sipping on hers.

“Have you checked your email yet?” She asked as Bucky blew into the mug.

“No, why?” 

“Bucky, the Stark Internship acceptances went out yesterday and you’ve been holding all of us in suspense.”

“Shit,” Bucky said after a sip before setting his mug back down and pulling out his phone, quickly opening his email.

Natasha watched as Bucky scanned his phone, his face looking more disappointed than relieved.

“Well?”

“I- um,” Bucky stammered, shaking his head before putting his phone away. “I didn’t get it.”

“Bucky–”

“It’s okay, Nat,” he cut her off. “I did get that job with Y/n. I guess I’ll just take that one.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Steve interjected as he walked into the kitchen, grabbing his own coffee mug that Natasha had left him. “Wanda isn’t gonna be happy.”

“I need a job, Steve. That’s it.”

As much as Bucky wanted to get close to you again and keep an eye on you, he had worked so hard for the Stark Internship. Part of him hated that he had to go work for you instead, especially since it also added to your uncomfortable situation with your boyfriend. It was a lose-lose for the both of you, but he needed an internship. He didn’t want to beg his dad to bend some rules and give him a spot in the family business. This was his only option.

But Steve was right. Wanda wasn’t happy. The group had met up for lunch later that week when she found out and Bucky heard every inch of it. About the lies, the betrayal, about how she can’t imagine even looking you in the face again. Luckily for Bucky, he had to head out for his first day anyway, and ended up leaving during her lecture. 

Bucky could tell from Pietro’s face that he didn’t agree with his sister, but Bucky also hadn’t had the chance to have a conversation with him about you. It was no use asking him there. Natasha had texted him all about her calling Wanda out for being insensitive about the situation, though Bucky didn’t have the energy to reply before walking in to see you.

It had been a week and a half since the incident, and his nerves were eating him alive. Half of him felt the way Wanda did — confused, hurt. He agreed that he would have believed you’d set your pride aside for your friends. But the other half of him knew you wouldn’t just betray everyone like that. After your conversation outside of the hospital—the tremor in your voice, the fear in your eyes behind all of the tears.

“Because it would only make things worse for him. For me. For you.” 

God, he wished you had just told him everything. You immediately shut him down upon his question on what Atlas was holding over you. He knew you.

After calming his racing heart, Bucky got out of his parked car and walked towards the entrance of the building he was told to meet you at. The receptionist was nice enough to let him in even though he was half an hour early, but only because you were already in your office. 

He took a deep breath after making it to your closed door. His closed fist ghosted the air, waiting for the knuckles to press on the frosted window of the door, but his gaze was set on the shadow moving behind it that hadn’t even noticed his presence. Bucky knocked ever-so-lightly, not wanting to test how impossibly expensive the glass was, and the shadow behind the door froze before making its way towards the door. 

Once the door was opened, Bucky was greeted with your gaze, a slightly confused look on your face before you looked over at the clock on the wall.

“You know you’re early, right?” You asked as you turned your attention back to him, but Bucky couldn’t stop looking at you like he couldn’t believe you existed. He hadn’t forgotten anything about you but he had never spent so much time without seeing you, whether in front of his face or across the room. “Bucky…?”

“Sorry,” he said as he pulled himself out of his thoughts, though still staring at you. “Yeah, I know I’m early but I’ve had a really rough morning—well, week— and just kind of really need to dive into some work to distract myself so I thought maybe I’d make a good impression of being overly punctual so you’d let me in.”

Bucky wasn’t usually a rambler. He was a one-liner kind of person, never having too much to say out of fear of saying more than he needed to. You could tell he was anxious, so you nodded and stepped aside to let him in the lab.

It was bigger than what Bucky imagined—open space save for a few tables and some computers atop them. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows and your desk planted in front of one, papers scattered all over.

“I hadn’t really gotten started on anything yet,” you broke the silence. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you to take the offer at all if I’m being honest. I told them to keep you as a last resort since I knew how much you wanted the Stark Internship and that you’d probably take that.”

“I didn’t get it,” Bucky said as he faced you, his back previously to you while he took everything in. Your face was now riddled with more confusion than when you saw him outside your door. 

“What do you mean you didn’t get it? You were a lock for it, Tony even talked you up to his dad.” Bucky shrugged, looking away from your gaze on him. He honestly didn’t want to talk about the dark cloud that had been looming over him since he read the rejection email. Part of him wanted to reach out to Tony and ask what went wrong, but he had felt so defeated lately with everything going on that he didn’t even bother. “Are you okay?”

Pulled from his thoughts for the second time today, he looked at you again and nodded. “I will be.”

You nodded once in return. “Guess we should get started then.”

Bucky was grateful you weren’t being distant with him, but rather the contrary. After you explained all the research directions to him, detailing every instruction on how to collect, analyze, and sort all of the data coming in, everything seemed normal. Your banter was normal, you offered small talk here and there. It was like Bucky finally had his best friend back. 

He hadn’t realized how long it’s been since the two of you had a normal conversation that wasn’t teetering on the feeling of walking on eggshells. He knew he shouldn’t get comfortable given the current circumstances, and was further reminded of that when you spoke up again after a decent pause in your conversation. 

“How is everyone?” 

Bucky looked up from the binder that had his attention to see you hadn’t looked up from your computer screen, probably out of anxiety.

“They’re alright, just… navigating things, I guess,” Bucky answered sincerely. “We all haven’t really talked much about anything, honestly.”

You nodded without saying anything else.

The last thing Bucky wanted to do was to tell you how Wanda’s feeling about him working with you, or about how Natasha and Steve have been more distant with each other than usual given their disagreement on the situation, or how Sam barely likes to be in the room after he hears your name. Everyone in the group was on edge, and unfortunately, it had to do with you. But he wasn’t going to let you beat yourself up over it. It was the last thing you needed. 

You had removed yourself from the group without a word. You packed all of your things when Wanda and Natasha weren’t in the suite, taking everything to what Bucky now knows was your new apartment. It wasn’t cheap by any means, but your parents did agree it was better than paying thousands of dollars for a shared dorm. 

Bucky could tell you were at least content that you weren’t forced to stay with Atlas, whether at his stupid frat house or his own dorm. You never enjoyed it even when you were on good terms with him, so Bucky could only imagine the disdain you held for it now. 

The rest of the day went smoothly, and so did all of the following days Bucky worked with you. He felt back in his element, even though he only got to spend time with you for a few hours in a day. But they were the best hours of each of his days; he cherished them a lot more than he anticipated. Bucky was also grateful he could at least give Natasha updates on how you were doing, given how open you’d been about everything and your halted communication with everyone else. 

Not only were you doing great work with your research, but you were slowly getting your relationship with Bucky back. Having those moments to catch up kept you both so sane.

For instance, on the week of Halloween, you both were talking about costumes and plans, as this was your final Halloween in college.

“I didn’t change my plan for my costume, though,” you said as you highlighted a completed task in your planner. “With everything going on, I didn’t have the time to think of anything else but it’s not like Catwoman was a bad idea to begin with.”

“I guess we’ll still be matching then,” Bucky responded with a chuckle as you looked at him with a surprised face.

“Batman and Catwoman come out on top,” you grinned. “Are you guys even going out this year?”

“Same old party at the sorority house on Kirkland,” Bucky leaned back in his chair. “You going?”

You nodded. “Guess I’ll see you there, Batman.”

And you did. Bucky honestly had to control himself as the sight of you in the hottest Catwoman costume he’d ever seen in his life. Atlas was there, much to Bucky’s dismay, but it didn’t stop him from grinning at you from across the room when the guy wasn’t looking and Sharon wasn’t paying attention. It was a grin you also had no problem in returning before looking away with a face that let Bucky know you were definitely blushing underneath that mask. 

He liked that he still had that effect on you.

More weeks went by and before everyone could process it, it was the week before Thanksgiving. Bucky knew the holidays always made you excited, but your joy was nowhere to be found this go around.

Bucky obviously knew why, with the Friendsgiving tradition you all had coming up, without your attendance. It was bugging him all day to the point that he didn’t even want to go, but he’d never hear the end of it if he bailed. 

3 days before the dinner, Bucky promised Natasha he’d pick up all of the cooking tools and ingredients to take to his place where it’d be happening. He knew she’d only asked him given she and Steve weren’t currently on the best of terms. Bucky usually hated being put in the middle of things, but he let it be for the sake of everything else currently happening in his life.

Bucky and Natasha had also built a much stronger bond in a few weeks than they’d ever had in years of knowing each other, so he tried to see it more as a favor to her instead of her avoidance of Steve.

Natasha wasn’t in her suite, but she let Bucky know the door was open so he wouldn’t have to knock. As soon as he entered, he saw Pietro sitting at the dining table, typing away on his laptop before looking up at him.

“Just the person I wanted to see.”

Bucky chuckled, “Are we gonna talk or is your sister going to banish me again?”

“She’s not here, but she’ll be back soon. What are you doing here anyway?” Pietro lowered his computer screen.

“Picking up some things for Nat then headed to the lab,” Bucky sat across from Pietro. “But I’m in no rush, so tell me everything.”

For the sake of time before Wanda made her way back to her dorm, Pietro kept everything concise. He didn’t hold back, though, telling Bucky about the tape, about him being dragged from the internship fair and his dorm the following night, about you keeping everything to yourself out of fear of putting everyone’s lives in danger. He also mentioned Atlas threatening you with hurting Bucky if you got close to him again, making Bucky realize what you were talking about outside of the hospital.

“There has to be something we can do,” Bucky asserted, his chest aching as the realization sunk about how much you’d been suffering.

“Not yet,” Pietro lifted his computer screen again. “But I have already thought out a plan. It is not going to be easy for you or me at all, but it is the only way.”

Understanding what Pietro meant, Bucky nodded. “I’ll do anything for her, Piet.”

“I know. She won’t like it, but we have no other options. But you absolutely cannot tell her, Barnes.”

Bucky sighed and nodded. Ever since he started working for you, with you, you two were closer than ever. You cracked jokes together, you ate lunch together. You confided in each other about your days, your current stressors. You were best friends again. As much as Bucky wanted to know you weren’t alone, he knew Pietro was right.

Almost as if on cue, Wanda walked through the front door, Natasha right behind her.

“I smell trouble in here,” Wanda spoke up as she set grocery bags down on the kitchen counter. 

“No trouble,” Bucky shook his head and stood up from his seat.. “Was just keeping Pietro company ‘til you came back. I’m gonna take all the things for tomorrow and head out now.”

Natasha eyed Bucky before he whispered to her, ‘I’ll text you’. She nodded in response before helping him grab everything and walking him out to where he was parked outside. Bucky assured her once more that everything would make sense very soon before getting in his car. 

The entire drive to his apartment, the time he spent dropping off the ingredients, then the drive to the research building — he couldn’t take his mind off of you. Bucky, of course, was somewhat relieved that he wasn’t projecting his thoughts about Atlas onto you; but he felt sick to his stomach knowing that you had been suffering for these past few weeks, that you trusted Pietro and not him to know your secret, that you would throw your freedom away to protect him.

Yes, you were protecting yourself as well. You were keeping your job, the work you’d spent so much time and effort on for so long. You weren’t uprooting your research. But there were ways for you to get out of this. He could have helped you, he could have saved you.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to look you in the face and tell you he knew everything. That he was going to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe. But Pietro made it very clear he couldn’t tell you, and he couldn’t go back on his word. Not when it would ruin everything.

So as he sat in his car, mulling over how he was going to play pretend in front of you, Bucky devised a plan of his own. He just needed to get through the next few days.

Once he was calm, Bucky walked into the building, smiling at the receptionist who had told him you had just come in a few minutes ago. With a small ‘thank-you’, he walked to the elevator and headed upstairs.

Once he reached the sixth floor to make his way to the office, Bucky saw the last person he wanted or expected to see.

“Bucky Barnes,” Atlas said with a smug grin. “Been a bit since I’ve seen you, how’s your friend holding up?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I have work to get to. See ya around.”

As he walked past the blonde, Bucky shook his head. He could do so much to him. He could beat the smug look off his face and the ego out of his personality. He could ruin his life. But he wouldn’t.

“You know, the Stark Internship is amazing.”

Stopping in his tracks, Bucky looked at Atlas from his peripheral vision. “What?”

“The Stark Internship that you applied for. I’ve only been there about three weeks after someone dropped out, but it is the best professional experience I’ve had,” Atlas chuckled. “I’m honestly surprised she didn’t tell you. Quite a shame you’re missing out, but I can’t say I’d be thrilled working with you.”

And then he was gone. While Bucky was left shell-shocked in the hallway, left to face you. 

Walking into the office, you looked up from your desk, your eyes softening from a more irritated look once you’d realized it was Bucky in the room.

“Bucky, hey,” you said with a half-smile. “You came just in time, I have something to tell you.”

“I saw Atlas outside.”

Making your way in front of your desk which you were standing behind, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I figured, considering he just left. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about actually.”

“So you did know,” Bucky said softly, the familiar ache in his chest from earlier making a reappearance.

“Knew what?”

“That your boyfriend got the Stark Internship I wanted.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was going to tell you—”

“Just because I saw him outside and you knew he’d rub it in my face? Would you have told me if I didn’t see him or would you have kept that from me too?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stared at Bucky in disbelief before letting a scoff out, tears welling up in your eyes immediately.

“Wow.”

“Y/n–”

“I don’t know why I would ever believe that we moved past everything,” you shook your head, going back to your desk. “I found out that Atlas has been working at Stark today. That’s what I was going to tell you as soon as I saw you walk in the door. I didn’t know he was working there or I would’ve told you from the first second he stepped through Stark’s doors, Bucky. And I can’t believe you would stand there and think that I’d do otherwise when we’ve been so… normal.”

Bucky exhaled a deep breath before rubbing a hand over his face, his gaze then fixated on his shoes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he looked up at you as you were trying not to cry, making his way over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders as you avoided his stare. “I’ve had… a day, filled with information that has been tearing my brain apart but that is no excuse for accusing you of lying to me. I’m sorry, dragă.”

Sniffling, you looked up at him with a soft smile. “It’s okay. Maybe we should get to work, okay?”

Bucky was surprised you even forgave him, watching as you walked back to your desk and sifted through some papers. 

But he didn’t press on the issue. Not even the next day. Or two days after. 

It was the morning of the friendsgiving dinner that Bucky had been more than dreading the whole week. Sharon was talking his ear off about outfit choices as he got ready for the day, having to work then rush back to his place and help prepare for the god forsaken dinner. 

But all he could think about was you and the distance you held between you and him for the past four days.

He couldn’t blame you at all. He overstepped, he lashed out and he couldn’t be upset if you didn’t trust him anymore. After weeks of blind confidence in him, he brought you back to square one. Alone. 

“Bucky, are you even listening to me?” Sharon said with blatant irritation, snapping Bucky out of his thoughts. 

“Sorry,” he said before pulling a sweater on. “I have to head out.”

“Seriously?”

“I have work and then the dinner with everyone and I’m just— I’m sorry, Sharon. I’m stressed. You can stay here and get ready, wear the blue dress.”

Before she could respond, Bucky was rushing out of the door, ignoring everyone swamping his apartment after finishing their responsibilities for the day. 

Anxiety had a way of rearing its head for Bucky at the most inconvenient moments, but this, by far, was one of the worst cases. He was counting his lucky graces that he made it to work in one piece, though his anxiety would only get worse the second he had to work alongside you while you were upset with him.

He caught a bit of a break when the building’s receptionist told him you were running late, though it was so uncharacteristic of you to be late to anything. 

Maybe traffic was shitty. Your route from your new place was different from his. 

Even then, you were always early. Usually an hour or two before your clock-in time. Taking a leap, Bucky texted you.

Bucky: Everything okay? Monica told me you were running a bit late.

No response. Bucky rubbed his eyes, knowing he really didn’t need something to add to his list of anxiety triggers at the moment. Deciding it was best to throw himself into work as a distraction, Bucky kept himself busy for an hour.

He’d worked with you long enough that he knew how you ordered all of your research virtually. Color-coding, organizing all of your results by order of the universities they were coming from, ranking the results in order of responses by question.

This research was huge, a study done through an intense survey of students from some of the biggest and most prestigious universities in the country. Being backed by a company as big as Oscorp among others had colleges falling at your fingertips for a chance to be included. Beyond just wanting to work with you, he was so immersed in your work. The least he could do was advance it a bit more for you as you were running late. 

So he did. And an hour and 20 minutes after Bucky walked into the office, you were outside of the door cursing to yourself as you rummaged through your bag in search of your key to the office. Bucky walked over and opened it for you, leaving you staring at him with your hand frozen in your bag and tears in your eyes.

“The door was open,” Bucky said softly, taking in your frazzled state. “Are you okay?”

Wiping your eyes and smearing your mascara as you rushed inside the office, “I had this stupid lunch with Atlas and his parents and it was awful and all I wanted was to leave but I sat there like the good girlfriend I’m supposed to be and listened to him goad on and on about everything at Stark Industries and then diminish everything I’m researching like he’s—”

“Hey,” Bucky shut the door and pulled you into a hug. He noticed you stopped yourself, about to spill everything to him but for the sake of keeping his and Pietro’s plans, he just held you. “You’re okay, I promise,” Bucky looked down at you and cupped your face in his hands, wiping away some of your tears with his thumbs as you sniffled. “I know how much you hate being late so I started on some work. I got through analyzing about 80 results when you came in, color-coded and organized them how you like, all by each school.”

New tears made their way onto your face, Bucky immediately worried he hurt you though you assured him otherwise. After a few beats, Bucky was taken by surprise as you quickly leaned up and kissed him, letting both of your mouths move against each other with unspoken adoration and love before you pulled away breathless.

“I’m— I’m sorry,” you said, stepping back out of Bucky’s grasp, his lips a brighter red now and his cheeks flushed as he looked at you. “I know I hate my ‘boyfriend’,” using your fingers to make air quotes, “but you still have a girlfriend. I’m sorry, I let my emotions kind of take over.”

“I kissed you back, you know,” he said without hesitation.

“Bucky, we can’t—”

“Why not?” He asked as he stepped towards you. “I kissed you back. I kissed you back when you kissed me at that party. I kissed you back now.”

“You still have a girlfriend, Bucky. I just got overwhelmed because nobody’s… cared for me, like that in a while. It’s been so long and I kind of forgot how it felt. But I overstepped and I shouldn’t have.”

“I don’t love her,” Bucky admitted. “I have never loved her, I won’t ever love her. Hell, I didn’t even ask her to be my girlfriend.” 

He stepped near you again, back in your personal bubble as he inched his face closer to yours. He caressed your face with one of his hands once more, before leaning down and kissing you again like it replenished the air in his lungs.

Leaning you against the wall, you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck, kissing him back with every ounce of energy you could give as he used his free hand to grip your thigh and wrap your leg around his waist. After a few minutes, you both pulled away, catching your breaths as you stared at each other with longing eyes.

“I don’t think you know how long I’ve been waiting to do that again,” Bucky said as you giggled a bit. “I’d continue but it’s probably not best to christen our place of employment that way.”

“Shut up,” you said playfully, pushing him back softly, keeping your hands on his chest. “I still kind of feel bad.”

“Don’t,” Bucky shook his head, placing his hands on your waist. 

“Are you sure?” You asked, not fully convinced. “I know how long it took for you to move on and I’d hate to ruin that.”

“I promise. I’ve been racking my brain on how to end things with her anyway,” Bucky reassured as he rubbed your waist softly. You nodded without a word, running a hand through his hair, your attention suddenly elsewhere. “Where’d you go, prinţesă?”

“The dinner’s today,” you said softly, still not looking at Bucky. He could hear the melancholy in your tone. “Are you going?”

“Nat might kill me if I don’t,” Bucky joked, which made you smile a bit. “Why do you ask?”

“I wish I could be there.”

Bucky pulled you back against him, kissing your forehead. “Me too.” 

After you and Bucky decided it was best to get back to work, the rest of the day moved swiftly; you and Bucky were back to your normal dynamic once again, though clearly slightly different. 

Bucky was anticipating going through a myriad of situations before he could truly savor your lips on his again. When you kissed him all those weeks ago at that party, it was more solemn—an apology for what was about to come. Though your kiss came out of whatever impulse you had, Bucky had been feeling all those urges too. 

He wasn’t the cheater type at all and, honestly, the thought of it did make him feel like shit. But he didn’t want you to blame yourself for his actions. He wasn’t lying when he said he was trying to break up with her, but something about ending things right before the holidays also made him feel shitty.

As the day moved on, Bucky’s anxiety creeped up on him again. The looming dread of walking into his apartment and having to sit at this dinner pretending like nothing was wrong wasn’t going away anytime soon. Bucky could tell you sensed he was off with the way you were staring at him as he put his jacket on.

“Everything okay?” 

He looked at you and shrugged. “In theory.”

“The dinner will be fine, Buck,” you offered him a smile, somehow knowing how to read his mind as always. 

He felt bad leaving you here at work to attend the dinner you were always excited about. He insisted on grabbing something together, so you at least had enjoyed food with him. However, you warned him of the wrath of the Russian redhead if he showed up to dinner on a full stomach. He couldn’t help but chuckle because he knew you were right. 

You gave him a tight, warm hug before he left. He knew you needed it, even more than he did. He wanted to tell you then and there that he was going to help you, that he’d get you out of the situation you were trapped in. He debated so hard internally, but, once again, he told himself he had to keep his word. 

Once he left the office and made it back to his apartment, Bucky took another moment of silence in his car after parking in his assigned space. A calm before the storm, he convinced himself. After taking a few deep breaths, he got out of the car, locked it, and walked to the entrance. He did his best to quiet his mind as the elevator made it to his floor, as he twisted his keys in the locks, and entered his buzzing apartment.

“It’s about time!” Sam exclaimed from the couch, seated with Steve, Thor, and Pietro in the living room. “We were about to play poker without you.”

“You can go on ahead, I gotta shower,” Bucky said as he shrugged his jacket off. “But when I get back, you’re all getting your asses kicked.”

Smirking at his friends’ complaints as he walked down the hallway, Bucky made his way into his room, seeing Sharon still getting ready.

“Hi,” she said monotonously, sighing when Bucky responded with a ‘hey’ in the same tone. “How was work?”

“Fine,” Bucky responded shortly again, putting his shoes in the closet and grabbing his towel for a shower. As he headed out the door, Sharon stopped him with a question.

“Are you upset with me or something?” Her tone was clearly one of frustration, which Bucky wasn’t in the mood for. “You’ve been avoiding me all week.”

“I’ve had quite a shitty week,” Bucky admitted, knowing it wasn’t too far from the truth. “I just need this dinner to be over with and some time to decompress before we have a talk.”

“A talk? About what?”

“Us,” was all Bucky said before heading to the bathroom. 

He made sure to take an extra long shower, needing a moment to relax before the thing he was dreading all day. He noted Sharon wasn’t in his room when he came out of the bathroom, and he was kind of grateful for it. 

Once he was dressed, Bucky checked his phone as it buzzed, seeing a text from you.

Y/n: hope the dinner goes okay. Still wishing I was there ):

Bucky: Me too. I promise everything will be okay soon.

Y/n: I hope so. 

Y/n: can’t quite stop thinking about earlier.

Bucky knew what you meant, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it either. It was the only thing on his mind, the taste of having you back was consuming his entire being. 

He had to tell Pietro the plan needed to start. Soon.

Bucky: Me neither. You still at the office?

Y/n: might sleep here if I’m being honest

Bucky: I’ll stop by later tonight.

Y/n: no christening the office

Bucky chuckled at his phone.

Bucky: No promises. See you later.

After putting his phone to charge, Bucky stepped out to the living room. The boys were all outside on the balcony, while Wanda and Nat were in the kitchen. He didn’t see Sharon at first but then she stepped out of the half-bathroom and turned her gaze away from Bucky immediately.

“Bucky, would you mind setting the table? Ask Pietro to help you.” Wanda asked from the opening in the wall to see through to the kitchen.

“Yeah, no problem,” Bucky said as he turned towards the dining area after grabbing the plates, seeing Pietro walk in, assuring Bucky that he had already heard his sister. “I guess twin telepathy is a thing.”

Pietro chuckled. “How is she?”

Bucky waited for Pietro to place the table mat in front of a seat before placing a plate. “She’s alright, but I can tell she’s hurting.”

“I was thinking that we should get a start on the plan soon,” Pietro spoke quietly, not wanting anyone else to overhear. “I would hate for this to drag into the new year.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Bucky grabbed the utensils once all of the plates were set, passing half to Pietro. “This weekend?”

“That would be optimal. There is a party at their house on Saturday.”

“How do I get their attention in just two days?”

“You will,” Pietro reassured. “Trust me. After tonight.”

Deciding not to pry further, Bucky thanked his instincts as Natasha and Wanda walked into the dining room with the food. Bucky and Pietro helped free their hands and placed everything on the table, the girls calling out to everyone else.

Bucky could sense Sharon’s tension as she sat next to him, but he opted to do his best to ignore her. He needed to break things off sooner than later.

Once everyone dived into their food and made conversation, Bucky didn’t say much. He hadn’t even realized how empty his stomach was until he started devouring his plate.

“Slow down, Barnes,” Sam joked from across the table. “I know you hate talking but you still gotta chew before you swallow.”

Bucky shot him a glare before resuming his task at hand.

“I think he isn’t talking for other reasons,” Sharon spoke up, surprising everyone at the table, especially Bucky who now stared at her incredulously. “What? You clearly invited me here as a placemat for your missing traitor.”

“Excuse me?” Natasha said before Bucky could retaliate.

“I don’t know why I’m here when Bucky so obviously wishes Y/n was here instead. That’s why you’re cheating on me with her, right? That’s what your silly little job is? Become her lapdog again?”

Bucky chuckled. “You should stop talking.”

“Why?”

“You should stop talking,” Pietro interjected, Wanda silently urging him not to get involved. “Since we are bringing up accusations, why don’t we speak about you cheating on Bucky?”

If Bucky could get whiplash from how fast he turned his head towards Pietro, he would have. “What are you talking about?”

“I have been holding my tongue for a while,” Pietro started. “But I do not think I can sit by and watch you stay with this woman as she is involved with the man ruining the life of the woman you love.”

Bucky was very much confused 30 seconds ago, but he was even more confused now.

“Pietro, I don’t know what you saw—”

“But you do know what I saw, Sharon,” Pietro interrupted. “You and Atlas outside of the fair, kissing. Plotting against Bucky and Y/n. He and his friends took me forcefully while you warmed up to Bucky like nothing happened. Like you didn’t know why I was injured that night. Like Y/n was the traitor when you have been the parasite this entire time.”

“Pietro, why would you not tell us this?” Wanda asked, in as much disbelief as everyone else at the table. 

Pietro stared at Bucky, though Bucky was racking his brain trying to process what the fuck he just heard.

“Y/n is being blackmailed by her boyfriend. I couldn’t admit anything without jeopardizing her safety. But I’m sure it will be jeopardized now,” Pietro threw a smug look Sharon’s way before calmly turning back to his food.

“Bucky—”

“Get out.” 

Sharon pleaded with him, but Bucky cut her off once more.

“Get the fuck out before I throw you out of here.”

With tears in her eyes, Sharon rushed out of the apartment, Bucky standing up to lock the door behind her before walking back into the dining room.

It was so silent, Bucky once again became self aware of his racing thoughts, needing to break the ice—a rarity for him.

“Is there anything someone wants to say?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, rubbing Nat’s shoulder while she was trying to process everything and staring at his best friend. “How do we kill this asshole?”

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Celestial

Summary: Snapshots of your relationship with Kamala Khan. This story takes place in the Family AU.

Warning: fluff, small amount of angst, mention of panic attack, self harm, first kiss, shovel talks, Kamala is head over heals for the reader and the reader is trying their best, mention of past trauma

Note: Tagging @jusnough for the idea!

Word Count: 4.2K

It wasn’t the most ideal of timing. A lot was happening, especially with the trail you were preparing for. Your parents were stressed. You were stressed, which was 100% understandable, but Kamala wanted to plan something special and then maybe ask you to be her girlfriend. Baby steps. She couldn’t get ahead of herself. There was a plan. First, ask your parents permission to date you. Second, she needed to survive the shovel talk they no doubt had for her. Third, ask Tony for a favor. Finally, take you on a date and make it a great day. Easy. Simple. Kamala was going to throw up.

She found your parents in the kitchen. You had a checkup with Helen, so it was a perfect time to walk to them. Natasha saw her first while Wanda focused on the lunch she was making. “She should be done soon,” the Black Widow said to her. “She’s with Helen.”

“I know,” Kamala said. “I was wondering if I could speak with the both of you.” Natasha raised an eyebrow in question. Kamala believed she was fearless. She fought alongside the Avengers, looked danger in the eye, and did not back down. It was impressive for a high school student. Starring down your parents was a new level of fear she’d never experienced. “I want to take Y/n on a date, and I know she has a lot going on, but I want to do something nice for her,” the couple stayed quiet. “She means a lot to me,” Kamala decided to continue. “I don’t know everything she has been through, but I know I’d never hurt her like that. I mean, I may hurt her. But not intentionally,” she added on quickly. “I am sometimes an idiot,” Wanda chuckled. “I think I should shut up.”

“Probably for the best kid,” Natasha smirked. Kamala cringed and scratched the back of her head. The Black Widow leaned on the counter and narrowed her eyes at Kamala. “You are about our daughter,” Kamala nodded. “Being with her won’t be easy.”

“She’s been through a lot,” Kamala turned to look at Wanda. Some days may be good, others may be bad.” Again, she nodded her head. Kamala knew healing wasn’t linear, but she was ready to catch you when you needed her. “She may lash out, shut you out, or blame you for feelings she can’t place.”

“Are you committed to that?” Natasha asked.

“Yes,” Kamala answered without hesitation. It was not going to be easy, and she knew that. Even her friends told her to stay away, and she tried. But there was something about you that kept drawing her in: your shy smile, the soft look in your eyes when you hung out with your brothers, and your laugh. Your laugh was Kamala’s favorite. She loved hearing it.

“Okay,” Natasha said. But if you hurt her, not even Danvers will save you.” Kamala gulped and watched the couple focus back on making lunch.

“Right, got it. Aye, aye, captain,” Kamala gave them a salute, spun around, and headed towards Tony’s lab. Phase 1 and 2 was a success onto Phase 3.

Delete Created with Sketch.

Natasha sighed once Kamala was out of earshot. “What is it?” Wanda asked, nudging the Black Widow with her hip. Is it hard to believe our daughter is dating?”

“No,” she washed her hands and dried them. “Well, yes, but that means Hill won the bet.” The witch laughed and shook her head. She was not part of the bet between the older team members on how soon Kamala would ask you out. Natasha had her bets on after the trial, but the heart wants what the heart wants. Wanda knew how good Kamala was for you, but the mother bear inside her worried. You’ve gone through so much. She wanted to protect your heart as much as she could.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Calm down,” Kate said. That was the opposite effect the archer was going for. It heightened your anxiety as you passed back and forth in her room at the Avenger tower.

“I don’t know what to do,” you said. “I’ve never been on a date before. Kamala approached you and asked if you wanted to hang out with her. You were to be ready at noon, and Happy would drive you to this secret location. She gave you no clue on where you were going. You were oblivious to this being a date until you turned around and saw the smirks on Tommy and Billy’s faces.

The twins teased you until you were a stuttering mess, which got them grounded. This caused you to panic, which led you here with Kate.

“Bug, I need you to breathe,” Kate said as if it was the simplest thing, but you couldn’t. You’ve gone on one ‘date’ since the Blip, and that was with Jason. That needed horribly. Everyone took something from you; they took and took until you were a husk of your former self. “It’s only Kamala.” It was a simple statement that was supposed to lessen your anxiety, but it made it worse. “Sit down,” you sat next to her, but your leg continued to bounce.

“Do you trust her?” You nodded. She’s done nothing to break your trust. “Does she make you smile? Laugh? Do you feel at ease when you are around her?” Again, you nodded. “Do you like her?”

“Yes,” you admitted.

“Then enjoy your day with her. You guys are just hanging out,” you nodded and stood up. Once again, you started to pace. At this point, you would pace a hole in the floor.

“Right,” you bite your thumb. “What do I wear?” You walked over to the archer’s closet. You had a limited wardrobe here, but you knew you could wear something that Kate or Yelena owned.

“Keep it casual. Maybe jeans and a cute top. Oh! Bring that sweater Wanda gifted you. You might get cold.” Your brain slowly processed what she said. She knew where Kamala was taking you. You spun around to face the archer. Kate was looking at everything in her room beside you.

“Where is she taking me?”

“I’ve sworn to secrecy and threatened by bodily harm if I told you.”

“Kate!” You whined and flopped on the bed next to her. She laughed at your dramatics and pushed you on your back.

“You are so cute when you throw a tantrum,” she pointed at your cheek. Your pout deepened. “Trust, bug. Trust that she knows you well enough to not push you out of your comfort zone.” You nodded. In reality, you wanted the date to go well. With the upcoming trial, you wanted to have a good day.

“I’m thinking about the blue jeans and the light pink top. The sweater will go nice with both.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The ride to the mysterious location was fun. You thought it would be awkward with Happy, but Kamala filled the silence with stories. When the car stopped, Kamala was quick to get out first. She opened your door, offered you her hand, and you took it. You stood at the corner of Central Park West and West 76th Street. Kamala spoke with Happy before he drove away. “Ready?” She asked you. You nodded and followed her to the American Museum of National History. You were surprised by the lack of people waiting to get in. A new exhibit opened about the advancement in modern medicine. You’ve been dying to go, but the increase in popularity caused considerable crowds to form at the museum.

Kamala gave you a reassuring smile and led you up the steps of the museum. Her hand is still holding tight onto yours. It was quiet when she opened the door, and no one was in the lobby. “Kamala Khan?” A worker walked over. It would help if you had listened to try to understand what was happening, but you were fascinated by how quiet it was. You could hear the slight hum of the air conditioning. There was no yelling of excited children or the echo of footsteps moving from one exhibit to the next. It was quiet, and you enjoyed it. A weight was lifted off your chest. The tingly feeling you sometimes felt when you were in crowds was gone.

Kamala squeezed your hand, and you looked at the girl. A teasing smile was on her face. “Were you talking to me?”

“I was but you seemed a little distracted,” you felt your body heat up and you mumbled a quiet, ‘Sorry.’ But Kamala shook her head. “Don’t be. Come on. The exhibit you want to see is over here.” You let the girl guide you.

“Kamala,” you said and forced her to stop. You could make a sign explaining the new pop-up. “What is going on? How are we the only people here?” Kamala looked down at the floor, embarrassed.

“I rented out the museum for us. We are going to walk through each exhibit for as long as you want, and then a few of the workers are going to set up food for us. Wanda made your favorite,” she explained. You were a little lost for words. They seemed stuck in the back of your throat. However, Kamala took your silence as rejection. “If you want to do something else, we can.”

“No!” You said suddenly. “Sorry,” you cringed at the sound echoing on the museum walls. “Why did you do this?” Kamala shrugged.

“You mentioned you wanted to see this exhibit but were worried about the crowds,” you mentioned it once. You made an offhand comment while you and Kamala were eating lunch at the tower. She finished training, but you weren’t sure if she was listening. She was. “I asked Tony for a favor, and he pulled some strings, so here we are.”

“I uh-,” you cleared your throat, desperately trying to keep your tears from escaping your eyes. “Thank you.” A smile formed on Kamala’s face, and you allowed yourself to feel butterflies form in your stomach.

“You’re welcome. Come on, let’s see why this exhibit is so cool and popular.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Kamala was not a fan of museums. You could tell she was trying hard to take in the information you were telling her. For the most part, she was doing well, and she wasn’t rushing you. She let you take your time - reading each plague and adding your commentary. You decided to cut her some slack when her stomach growled for food. How embarrassed she got was cute and led to where the food was. A table was set up in the Invisible Worlds display. The colors weren’t as bright and intense, but it was a unique experience to be here with no one else.

“Wanda helped me make paprikash,” Kamala said, pulling back your chair for you and taking her own when you sat down. “So if it’s horrible, blame her.” You chuckled and opened the food container. It was still warm and smelt great.

“Thank you for today,” you smiled. “I’ve been having a great time.” She took a few sips of her water and cleared her throat.

“I know you have a lot going on,” she offered you her hand, and you took it. “But I wanted to give you one good day and ask if you want to be my girlfriend,” you couldn’t stop the surprise noise that escaped your lips.

“Dating me won’t be easy,” you told her. “I come with a lot of baggage.”

“It’s a good thing I’m so strong,” she flexed her free arm. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile on her face. “Seriously though, I want to be there for you and help carry some of that baggage.”

You weren’t sure how to give your baggage to someone. You had a track record of picking ones that hurt you. But Kamala was different. Kate made you admit how easy it was to be around her. She made you smile and laugh. You felt safe. “I may fuck this up,” Kamala smiled.

“Are you saying us?” You nodded.

“I am saying yes,” you smiled. “I am saying yes to being your girlfriend.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Kamala was multitasking, which wasn’t her strongest suit. She was trying to make you and her a plate of food while keeping an eye on you. She knew you would be quiet after the trial, but she was still worried. You seemed lost in thought while you sat near the fire pit. It wasn’t lit, but you were watching it as if the flames were there. “You are holding up the line,” Yelena said. Kamala jumped.

“Sorry, I was-”

“It is fine,” Yelena said, following her gaze to you. It was Billy’s turn to try to pull you out of whatever your mind was creating. “You are worried, I understand,” Yelena said, taking the plate meant for you and helping Kamala add to it.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come up to me,” Kamala saw the smirk on Yelena’s face. “Am I going to survive this shovel talk?”

“I am not going to threaten bodily harm, or my niece would never forgive me,” Kamala was thankful that the Romanoff-Maximoff family accepted you into their home. “This has been the happiest I’ve seen her in a long time; Kamala watched the Blonde put butter on a piece of corn for you. “Her heart has been broken by people who were supposed to protect it,” she sighed and looked at you. The Bartons were now with you. “I am surprised she was strong enough to offer it to someone else. You must be special,” Yelena handed the now full plate back to her. “Don’t misplace that trust.”

“I won’t,” Kamala said before Yelena could walk away. I may mess up, but I would never be like the others.” The Blonde looked over her shoulder, scanning Kamala up and down.

“I know,” the Black Widow smirked. “Just keep it that way, or there will be consequences.”

“I thought you said no to bodily harm,” Kamala called out after her. She heard Yelena laugh.

“I am a Black Widow,” she said. “I can do more than hurt you physically.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Maybe Kamala was overthinking it. Your phone could have died, you could have been sick, or something bad happened, and no one was telling her. It was strange that you missed a scheduled date and weren’t answering your phone. So it was a quick taxi ride from the tower to your house, and she was knocking on the front door. “Kamala,” Wanda answered the door. What are you doing here?”

“Is she here?” Kamala asked. “We were supposed to meet up, and she isn’t answering me, so I just need to make sure she’s okay and safe,” Wanda gave her a sad smile and stepped to the side. Kamala walked in and followed the witch into the kitchen.

“She’s in her room,” Wanda said, pouring her a glass of water and beginning to prepare a small board of snacks. “It’s not her intention to ignore you, but today was a bad day.”

“It’s been a bad day,” Kamala said slowly back and took a piece of cheese that Wanda offered. She remembered Wanda telling her that some days were bad. Wanda crossed her arms and leaned on top of the counter.

“With everything she’s been through, some days are better than others,” the witch sighed. “She had therapy this morning, so maybe that caused it, or it could have been a nightmare or none of the above. We may never know.”

“Can I-can I go see her?” Kamala asked. Wanda smiled.

“Of course. Bring her this,” she pointed to the board. “She hadn’t eaten, but don’t be upset if she didn’t want to see you.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The world seemed to be covered in a foggy haze. Everything seemed to move slower. Your body felt heavy, and it took so much energy to go to the bathroom. You barely heard the knock on your door. “Hey, sweetheart,” it was Kamala. “Can I come in?” You rolled to your side to face the door. You hated that she was going to see you like this. You missed her and you hated yourself that you missed your date.

“Yeah,” you whispered. The door opened, and Kamala came in holding a plate of snacks and glass filled with juice.

“Hi,” she smiled and closed the door. Wanda made you a little snack platter because she said you hadn’t eaten.” Kamala placed the food on the side table. Something inside you snapped. You felt it all day, and you tried to keep it buried inside. Seeing Kamala being so nice after you ignored her all day broke it. Everything came bubbling over. A broken sob escaped your lips. “Hey, hey, why are you crying?”

“I don’t know,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. Can I hug you? Do you need a hug?” You sat up in bed and cried harder.

“I don’t know,” you repeated. You wanted to fall into her arms and be safe, but the idea of her touching you sent shivers down your spine. Why was everything so complicated? Why were you so broken? You began to scratch at your wrists.

“I need you to stop doing that,” you heard Kamala say, but you couldn’t stop. You needed to feel anything besides this suffocating weight. Suddenly, Kamala’s hands grabbed yours, and you fought against her. “I know, I know,” Kamala cooed, pulling you against her chest. Her arms held you tightly down. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe.” Soft humming filled your ears. Your body slumped against hers, and you cried on her chest.

When your sobs quieted down, you pulled away from her. Your head was pounding, and you felt gross. “Hi, khobsurat (beautiful),” you rolled your eyes.

“I doubt I look beautiful,” Kamala shook her head.

“You will always be beautiful to me,” she could make you flustered. “Do you wanna talk about anything?” She kept her hands on her lap but was itching to hold you. Her fingers were twitching. Sighing, you held out your hand for her to take.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you admitted.

“Like what?” she questioned. It was hard to describe this state you sometimes found yourself in. Sometimes, it felt like you were in a pile of quicksand, and no matter how hard you fought, you kept sinking. “This is a bad day for you. That’s what your mother called it.” You nodded.

“They don’t come often, but when they do, they can be depleting,” you explained. “I wanted to hang out with you today but couldn’t leave my bed. So I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said. “I was worried that you went radio silent, so a text would be nice,” you nodded. You could do that even though you had no idea where your phone was. “But I want to be there when it gets bad. I want to see the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

“Even when I miss dates and can’t leave my room.”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “We can just sit here and watch movies as long as I’m with you. I’m happy.” She kissed the back of your hand.

“Thank you,” you smiled. It was nice having someone so patient. If you are interested, there is a new movie I want to watch.” You moved against your headboard with your arms. Immediately, Kamala moved into your arms. She sat between your legs with her back against your front. “Thank you,” you said again. It was starting to not feel like enough. Hopefully, one day, you would find more than those two words.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Something changed. You weren’t sure when it happened. You were looking at Kamala’s lips and wondering what they would feel like on yours. She has kissed you on your cheek, the back of your hand, or the top of your head. You were okay with that, but you wanted to kiss her properly. Could you do that? The last time you felt someone’s lips on yours was Dmitri. “Is that math problem that difficult?” Natasha asked. You were doing homework in her office while she was working on a few mission reports. You chuckled and closed the textbook.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked, twirling the pencil in our hand. The Black Widow nodded and moved to sit on the couch next to you.

“Ask away,” she smiled. Was it an appropriate question to ask your mom? You weren’t sure, but the relationship with your mom wasn’t normal. You continued to twirl the pencil.

“Is it weird that I want to kiss Kamala?” You asked. “Do you think it’s too soon?” You added on. You wished you had captured the look on Natasha’s face - eyes wide and shocked. But she recovered quickly. A part of you wondered if she wanted Wanda to be here for this conversation. Natasha sighed.

“I can’t tell you if it’s too soon or not. That is for you to decide,” you groaned and let your head fall back. The Black Widow laughed and pulled you back into a sitting position. “When it comes to kissing and sex, we both have a complicated relationship with it.” You frowned. Slowly, it dawned on you what she meant.

“How did you learn how to trust someone with your body like that again?” You asked. Natasha grabbed your hand and placed them on the back of the couch.

“A lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms,” the Black Widow teased. You rolled your eyes, but your frown remained on your face. “I slept around hoping it would be different, but never until I started seeing Wanda.”

“How?”

“I finally felt safe with her. She made me feel seen. So,” she cringed slightly. “If you feel those things with Kamala, then maybe it’s the right time to open yourself up to that again,” Natasha pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t force it, though, Firefly. You and her have all the time in the world.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were trying to pay attention to the story Kamala was telling. You were lying on the tower’s roof - the night sky was blanketed with stars. It was your turn to plan a date, so you decided to picnic atop the tower. It was peaceful. It felt like you and her were the only people in the city. “Why do I feel like you aren’t listening?” Kamala teased.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “I got stuck in my head.” The girl frowned. “I’m okay,” you promised and sat up to reach for your phone. Opening up Spotify, you began to play music. “Do you want to dance with me?” You asked.

“Yeah, sure, I can dance,” you giggled at her nervous rambling. You both stood up; her arms went around your waist, and you put your arms around her neck. It wasn’t really dancing; it was more like swaying side to side to the music. “I had a good time,” she broke the silence.

“Good. So did I,” you glanced at her lips but looked away. Carefully, she spun you in a circle and brought you back into her arms.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You titled her head. “Where was your head when I was telling you an amazing story?” You chuckled.

“You,” you paused. “You make me feel like my troubled heart is a million miles away. You make me feel like I’m drunk on stars and dancing out into space,” you let out a shaky breath. “When I get lost, I know your arms will be reaching out towards me.” Gently, Kamala cupped your face and forced you to look up at her. “This may go wrong,” your voice shook as your nerves got the best of you. “But can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Kamala sighed. Time seemed to slow down as you inched closer. You could feel the warmth of her breath, and you fought your mind to stay in the present. You tried to push away the darkness that threatened to overtake it.

“Khobsurat,” she whispered, her voice pushing away the darkness. Your heart pounded in your chest, and a soft flutter stirred in your stomach - a mix of nerves and wonder. Then it happened. Her lips touched yours, gentle and tentative. It was soft, warm, and sweet, sending a cascade of warmth down your spine.

For a second, you forgot to breathe. Everything else vanished - no more nerves, no more doubt. Kamala pulled away and rested her forehead against yours.

“Thank you,” you were surprised by that. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“You’ve earned my trust,” you whispered. “You’ve been so patient with me. I-” you couldn’t say it yet. The words felt trapped in your throat. But Kamala nodded.

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Yes,” you smiled. This time, her kiss was more aggressive. She felt more confident in her movements. Her touch was soft against your skin. Natasha was right. This felt different. It felt full of warmth. It felt like love.

[shxxxbi]

EVERYTHING THAT WASN'T INCLUDED IN LOVE SEA THE SERIES 🌊

Episode 4 (Chapters: 12 - 14)

<-prev

Breaking a promise

Rak felt like shit here. He had called Mook to extend his stay but his secretary had refused sternly; so after Mut spent two nights pleading for him to stay, Rak tried to find an excuse to keep his promise. He considered telling his secretary that the manuscript wasn't finished, that he needed more time, even considered telling her all the boats had sunk and it was impossible for him to go back to the mainland. But in the end, he had no choice but to admit defeat. He felt terrible for breaking his promise to Mut, meanwhile the younger boy appeared almost unfazed. His face was "just the usual, totally normal one, with the usual smile and the same look. Not a hint of regret."

"If he didn't care, then why would I?"

So Rak picked up his phone and transfered Mut the money for "his services". Now more than ever, Tongrak was convinced that all that had happened between them was just sex. Mut sold his service and Rak had bought it. Nothing he hadn't already done before with other people...

...yet, Rak had "never felt this hollow"

How much would it cost for you to go to Bangkok with me?

That hollow feeling in Rak's chest kept expanding. Memories of the time spent together with Mut flashed through his mind until a sudden warmth urged him to move. Tongrak was confident in his decision, in asking Mut to go with him. However, he still insisted that what he was feeling was not love. That it was just personal pleasure. And if he could afford it, what was the problem?

"The guy sold his service anyway. Right?"

WHAT!!!??

She didn't like this man at all. That's what Mook kept telling herself when she saw the man her boss had brought back with him. He made her feel "as tiny as an ant". Mook had screamed so loud upon hearing what Rak had done, that the airport staff almost came over to ask what was wrong.

"Brought back, as in purchasing?! Are people buying and selling men now?!"

I don't trust you

Mook wanted to back down the moment she met eyes with Mut. She wasn't familiar with men at all, the only men she was close with were her family members and Rak. Mut intimidated her, with his big body and his dark and scary face, so much so it made her want to cry. But no one could be trusted this days, what if this man assaulted Rak? What if he stabbed her boss with a knife in his sleep?

"She had to protect Rak!"

Mut, on the other hand, found her amusing. She was so small, he could "probably blow her away with a puff". But he was never one to bully someone weaker, so he turned to Rak.

"What should i do? If I show respect, she won't back down. But if you tell me to handle her, this little lady won't stand a chance."

Little Trivia: Rak's house

Contrary to the show, Rak's house is on the 27th floor of a very luxurious condo complex in the heart of Bangkok. It has 3 bedrooms, with the main one featuring a large wall window that offered a wonderful view of the bustling streets below. As for the other two bedrooms, one is a guest bedroom and the other one a study crammed with books. As for the kitchen, it is entirely made of Italian marble and has, basically, never been used.

Bro, are you crazy?!

This phone call actually happens after Rak and Mook have already set off to work. Mook had been waiting outside the door to Rak's house as soon as the sun was up, too terrified to enter on her own and find the two men fucking in the living room, so she waited for Mut to let her in. After the secretary and her boss had left, Mut gets a call from Palm. The younger boy kept shouting and calling him crazy, but Mut knew very well what he was doing. Many people would describe him as very mature for his age, but Mut knew he still tended to act childish at times. Just like he had done now. Following a man to the mainland with no plan whatsoever, simply because he was unwilling to let him go. Mahasamut knew that their paths would most likely never cross again, this was the only opportunity he had to keep Tongrak close. And he would not let it go.

Little Trivia pt.2: Mahasamut's age

Mut's age is never explicitly confirmed in the novel, however thanks to Khom we can figure it out. In "Love Sand", the story of Khom and Connor meeting and falling in love takes place when Khom is 19 years old. Many characters of Love Sea appear as side characters, including Palm and Mut. Palm is described as a boy around 17 years old, while Mut is "a few years older than him and around Khom's age". Fast forward to Love Sea (that chronologically takes place a while after the events of Love Sand), Mut describes Khom as his "younger close friend and brother". Also, in the prologue of Love Sea, Tongrak tells us that Khom is a decade younger than him. Since Rak is about to turn 31 and the two boys are around the same age, with Mut being apparently slightly older, Mahasamut should be around 21-22 years old, making the age gap between Mutrak around 9 or 10 years!

DISCLAIMER🚨: I have not read Love Sand, all the infos I have written come from people I know that have read it. Therefore, I apologize if something is incorrect🙇🏽‍♀️

Can you read the report and understand it?

Fortunately for Mook, Mahasamut had decided to go to the hospital alone and not drag her along. Said report was currently being examined by Tongrak and poor Mook couldn't help but wonder why her boss was smiling like that. How could a report make him so happy? She didn't understand anything of what was written, she didn't know a thing about STDs. How could she, she had never even had sex with anyone. Her confusion faded when Mahasamut explained he was clean, only to be quickly replaced by embarrassment at his next words.

"Maybe next time we can skip the rubber. I promise I'll pull out"

Yet, nothing could prepare her for Rak's answer

"Who said you have to?"

Mut kept teasing Mook for a while after that, while Rak observed them in the distance

"They get along very well. This is nice. The room isn't quiet anymore."

What if I say I won't agree to it?

Mut read the contents of the contract: Tongrak would provide him sixty thousand bahts monthly as compensation and cover all of his living expenses, including housing, food and even education, if he wished to pursue it. However, Mut had obligations as well: not disturbing Rak during working hours, not doing anything Tongrak disliked and, most of all, their relationship would end immediately at the writer's discretion. There was no love, nor commitment included. Mahasamut had to supress a growl in his throat. He disliked what Rak was doing, disliked how he was treating their relationship as if there was nothing but sex between them, nothing but money. But he knew this was the only opportunity he had to get close to Tongrak and he couldn't let it slip away, even if he wouldn't have much time. So, all he could do was clench his fists and hide his thoughts with a perfectly fine smile.

So, you're saying you can love me, Khun Tongrak?

Being very fair-skinned, when all his blood rushed to his face, Rak easily turned a bright red that let everyone know he was blushing. And Mut's words had him blushing hard. Tongrak had experienced every kind of flirtation imaginable from both men and women, but just a few words from Mut were enough to leave him speechless. Had the younger boy not read the contract? Had he not realized there was no emotional attachment between them, only money? How could he be so brazen in asking for love? But, most of all, why the hell did Rak's heart skip a beat?!

Vivi was very impressed by the island boy. She knew there must have been something special between them if Rak had brought him home; just as she knew how much her friend deeply craved for someone's love, even if he refused to admit it.

"You can just call me Vi, no prefix needed. And if Rak ever dumps you, just come to Big Sis. I like you."

"That might be difficult," Mut declined, "I won't let myself get dumped so easily"

And Mahasamut had never been more serious. He wouldn't let Tongrak drift away from him.

"I didn't say you could come in" "But you didn't say I couldn't come in either"

Here Mut actually enters Rak's room and sits on his bed, while the older man is busy playing on his phone. Unable to ignore Mut's gaze any longer, Rak put his phone down and looked up at him.

"That's better. Didn't anyone tell you that when you talk, you should make eye contact with the person you're talking to?"

Finally they talk about the contract, about their conversation downstairs and about how Rak doesn't believe in love, and this all but puts a sad smile on Mut's face. So, the younger boy reaches out to hold Rak's hand and intertwine their fingers.

"I know you don't believe in love, but I never said that I don't [...], you can't stop me from loving you."

Tongrak was at a loss for words. Confusion was written all over his face. He had never dealt with a situation like this before. He had never met anyone who said they'd love him.

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

THIS. THIS IS THE MOMENT I HAD BEEN WAITING FOR.

In the novel, this does NOT happen. Or, better said, it is not a kiss on the lips. It's a kiss on Rak's temple. Now, why am i putting so much emphasis on this, you might be asking. I think this is another masterpiece of improv by our ship captain Khun Thitipong. In the novel, there is A LOT of emphasis on the fact that Mut desperately wanted to kiss Rak's lips but, since he had just made a very important speech about pursuing Rak and making him change his mind about love, Mahasamut decided that he couldn't give in to his desire. He wanted the words he had just said to embed themselves in Rak's heart. To make Rak think about him, about them, as more than just what happens in bed, and that is something that would take time. So kissing his lips had to wait. Now, after making this such a big thing, I don't think Mame would just suddenly change her mind for the show. Therefore, if 1+1 is 2 and the shit-eating grin on Fort's face and Peat's eyes are anything to go by, I assume Thitiwhipped decided to take matters into his own hands. Also, it seems Peat hinted at this himself in the reaction video for episode 4: after watching the kiss scene, Peat himself asks Fort if the kiss was scripted or just his improvisation.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk 🫳🏽🎤

[otrtbs]

Hi I hope you're doing well 🌷

I had a question. I'm totally asking out of pure curiosity, it's not a criticism or anything of the sort.

In ahb (this masterpiece of yours) Sirius's favorite painting is Degas' Dancers.

I wanted to know if you knew the background of this painting and if making it Sirius' favorite was a deliberate choice or if you had no idea at all.

Because the Ballerinas in Opera Garnier in Paris were all really young and mostly, they were poor. The dancers were often their family's hope to crawl out of misery.

The audience was full of men.

In fact, the sad flip side was that there was a whole prostitution network behind the scene. With these young girls. Men could pay for backstage access to watch ballerinas change and sometimes rape them.

So Degas was a big customer.

That's how he painted the dancers and most of his works.

That's again how he sculpted the ballerina, her tutu was added meaning the 14 year old girl was posing nude.

Degas is also suspected of being Jack the Ripper, there are a certain number of credible leads and potential evidences.

That's why I was wondering if you knew.

Since there is this whole chapter where they insult Picasso (as they should) I found it strange that Degas being a known major p*do did not receive the same treatment.

Ps: I'm french, I don't know if I made any mistakes writing this, if I have please excuse me I tried my best 🙏

Okay hi, hello! I am doing well and I hope you are as well! You have unlocked Art Historian Thesis Nat, so I am going to put an extremely lengthy post under the cut, I'm so sorry (this is literally my area of study,,, i fear i am incapable of being brief about this)

I do want to clarify that right off the bat, I don't necessarily think many of these art historical figures are "good people". Like none of them are the best, most moral, upstanding citizens you should model your life after (but they're also dead sooooo). But I also understand that I did take some time in my fanfiction to make my hatred for Picasso very clear, and so I can also understand the confusion in not extending that same hatred towards Degas. But there are a few reasons for that, that I'll try to explain below!

The direct historical documentation of Pablo Picasso's violence towards the women in his life is vast and damning. If you want particularly good insight into his violence and abuse, then I recommend reading Marina Picasso's (Picasso's granddaughter) memoir titled: Picasso: My Grandfather. I also recommend Françoise Gilot's (romantic partner of Picasso) books, Life with Picasso and Picasso and Matisse. It is through the memories of the people who loved Picasso and who loved him in turn, that we hear of his sadistic nature that drove his lovers to suicide and we get personal letters that he wrote to Gilot in which he says things like "Dora, for me, was always a weeping woman… And it’s important, because women are suffering machines" and "For me there are only two kinds of women: goddesses and doormats." His granddaughter has this to say about him: “He submitted [women] to his animal sexuality, tamed them, bewitched them, ingested them, and crushed them onto his canvas. After he had spent many nights extracting their essence, once they were bled dry, he would dispose of them.” And Gilot says: "I am the only one to not have been sacrificed to the sacred monster(…) and is alive to tell the tale. He was a wonderful person to be with, it was like fireworks, amazingly creative, so intelligent and seductive(…) but he was also very cruel, sadistic and ruthless with others and with himself (…) It was the greatest love of my life, but you have to protect yourself (…) The others did not, they clung to the powerful minotaur and paid a very high price."

Why this matters: The evidence for Degas being so virulently misogynistic and cruel towards women is extremely less substantial and more speculative in nature.

Degas being Jack the Ripper. Degas being Jack the Ripper started off as a tiktok theory posed in early 2024, (though you can find an article as early as 2004 written by The Guardian's art critic here) and while fun to think about and speculate, it isn't true. August and September and November of 1888 is when the Jack the Ripper crimes were committed in London and Degas was in the South of France at that time receiving medical treatment because he was in extremely poor health. (Which you can find in The Letters of Edgar Degas edited by Theodore Reff (I'm sure there's. free PDF version out there somewhere)). Also, self-admittedly speculative, but Degas didn't visit the East-End of London when he did make his excursions to London because he was classist 😭. So, it would be odd for him to know the ins and outs of the streets where the murders took place. And also he had failing eyesight starting at 36, so the odds of him being Jack the Ripper are extremely slim.

The Ballerinas Yes, while it is true that the ballerina's were often subject to horrific conditions and were prostitutes for the "wealthy" patrons of the opera house, this does not mean that Degas partook in that. in fact, most historical documentation surmises he didn't. Degas considered himself a "realist" painter rather than an impressionist painter, wishing to document "real life" in all of its ugliness, beauty and unstylized truth. Therefore his primary concern was documenting the opera house and ballet in all of the moments, not just when the girls were dancing on stage. And in many of his paintings, Degas captures the opera patronsn in his ballerina paintings as lurkers behind the stage curtains as sinister black shadows, or as men predatorily watching in nice suits (e.g. Ballet, 1876 and The Rehearsal of the Ballet Onstage (1874)). But Degas himself, was NEVER a ballerina patron, he is even quoted as saying "People call me the painter of dancing girls. It has never occurred to them that my chief interest in dancers lies in rendering movement...". (now this is not because Degas was morally outraged at what was happening to the ballerina's, but because he viewed the men abusing the girls as committing a sin against God by sleeping with prostitutes). But while Degas had access to backstage, he was never a customer. And in fact, Degas is a notorious, well-documented celibate. This is because Degas believed sleeping with women would make him lose his special painting ability. No lie. Here's a direct quote from Vincent Van Gogh in his a letter to his brother Theo about the artist: "Degas lives like a little lawyer and does not like women, for he knows that if liked them and went to bed with them, he would become intellectually diseased and would no longer be able to paint." Degas was also known to reject ballerina's advances as well (again, fearing women would take away his magic painting power).

Feelings towards women By all accounts, Degas friends describe him as being reclusive towards women to being jovial with them, but always kind to them outside of a working environment. He even developed friendships with his fellow contemporary women painters. In a working environment, Degas was obsessed with perfection, demanding ballerinas contort their bodies in painful positions, and making them hold those positions for hours at a time. By all accounts, this was not because he hated them, but was obsessed with capturing their movements, the limitations of the human body, and he demanded perfection from himself. (x x x) (i.e. his obsession for his work and drive for perfection as a painter made him demanding and harsh towards his subjects, not his pure hatred of women).

Conclusions: So by many accounts, Degas was not particularly fond of women, and had little regard for his dancers. But the claims that he must have slept with the ballerina's and been a patron/customer "because that's what all men did back then" are not backed by any evidence. only evidence to the contrary. I went in on Picasso because those that were close to him have written first-hand accounts of his monstrocity. This is not the case with Degas. So, while I didn't tear him down like I did Picasso, I wasn't lauding him as a saint either. I highly recommend reading the article called Degas's Misogyny by Norma Broude which details the ways in which modern times have run away with this idea of Degas being a sadistic woman-hater and how we've gotten to this point. Anyway, TLDR; I was aware of the dark "underside" of the Paris Ballet at the time in which Degas was painting his works. Do I think he is Jack the Ripper and a man who participated in ballerina prostitution? No, not at all. At the end of the day, I am just an art history girl, telling anyone who will listen that there is not enough documentation on Degas to take these claims as 100% truth, or put that man up there with Picasso. Peace and Love! <3

[nosyrobin]

THE WHITE BAT

prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Summary: thinking you were not real, changed their minds as they catch you on camera leaving Damian’s room. When they question him, he won’t answer at all.

Checking the cameras, Tim’s eyes widen while showing Bruce and the others. Seeing a figure in a white costume similar but not close to Batman himself leap out of Damian’s window. Transforming into a white bat, vanishing into the night.

Time passed as Damian walked through the door to the manor.

“Damian..do you have anything to say about this?” Dick says, holding the white cloak he had put away before he went to school.

Damian didn’t expect to come home to his brothers and father questioning him. Questioning him about his most important souvenir from someone he found intriguing. He had already made his mind up with scenarios incase this came to happen. But this was too soon for his liking. Damian’s knitted brows and his brothers looking at him with Bruce awaiting an answer to his first son’s question.

Damian was currently seated on the living room couch. Hands clamped up together on top of his lap, dare he look at his father’s glare. Bruce opened his mouth to speak about this situation. “So? Are you just gonna sit here and act as if didn’t catch you having some random person’s clothing in your dresser?” He said in a low tone, a tone to use when questioning his victims that did crimes. Damian met his father’s eyes, scoffing as he stayed silent.

“Who was that person?”

“Do they know your identity?”

“Why do you have their cloak?”

“What were you thinking?!”

Questions spew quickly from his family. His jaw clenched in annoyance as Dick waved the cloak in his face. Damian grabbed the cloak quickly, dick tried to grab it back before Damian moved back. The tanned boy looked ready to defend the cloak’s honor to stay away from his family itself.

Dick, who was gonna use physical force was stopped by Bruce. Bruce putting a hand strictly on the acrobat’s chest. Dick’s eyes widen at his father, “Bruce! What are yo—” Bruce gave shake of his head at the oldest of the boys. Dick turned to Damian, and Damian held a tight glare. His teeth baring, holding the white knight’s cloak to his chest.

“I don’t have to get you an explanation Grayson! It’s my life, I can protect myself.” Damian said back as dick rolled his eyes. Tim just stood by with a weary look meanwhile Jason was actually loving this scene. Smirking as he can definitely see his brother had gotten attached to a certain bat.

“But can they protect themselves against you?” Bruce said with a gruff tone. Damian stood up straight with confidence. Holding your cloak to his side as he held his head up high.

“I know so.”

White bat!reader tag: @amber-content @minkyungseokie

[windywriter]

THIS IS A LITTLE IN REFERENCE TO THIS POST SO PLEASE CHECK IT OUT, ITS GOOD I PROMMY

I feel like if youre dating izana you're also sort of with Kakucho as well? It's a mutal love of sorts.

And I don't think kakucho would be jealous or upset about you entering izanas life (not that he would even complain even if he could). In fact I feel like hed probably be pretty happy that Izana found someone to love like that. The both of you end up bonding over your shared love of Izana. And though your "king" may be selfish and strict the both of you are his eternally loyal and adoring servants.

Kakucho also probably acts as sort of translator/middle man for Izana wherever you guys get in an argument. Though he does have a bias towards izana and will take his side in most arguments. Even begrudgingly, but he does try and compromise. It's not the healthiest but he's sweet enough you can't help but give in.

I think itd be funny if Kakucho sort of catches feelings for you while the two of you hang out. He probably wouldnt even realize it until it just hits him and he goes "Uh oh" because 1) youre izana's lover already and 2) hes probably never really had a crush like that before. It'll probably go unrequited but i think it would morph into a similar unflinching loyalty he has w Izana. It's a comfortable companionship. Both of you sharing silent glances that contain entire conversations. Hushed giggles as you two wander the streets. Kakucho would probably offer to teach you some self defense but since his idea of "training" is raiding criminal organizations you declined.

As for Izana, he wont show it but i think hed be a little happy that the two of you are getting along. Just a little. Though if he sees that the two of you are too close for (his) comfort he will pull you away.

Spoilers for the different timelines:

In the bad timeline where Izana becomes the defacto leader of touman, you'll see even less of Kakucho and your relationship will be strictly profressional. He'll visit now and then but usually its just to tell you that izana will be home late. The time you two do get together slowly becoming less and less candid as you dance around the elephant in the room. The both of you know that Kisaki is nothing but a bad influence on Izana, but neither you nor Kakucho can truly do anything about it. At least Izana has his "kingdom", so you guess it can't be all bad.

In the Botan timeline, I feel like his crush might turn into a crutch because the both of you loved izana and now hes gone. And while he wouldnt be as bad as Izana, i can definitely see Kakucho becoming protective to the point of being posessive. Mostly because he's worried how Mikey, and by extension Sanzu, would react to your existence. But also because youre the last piece of Izana he has, just as he is to you. And maybe, he'll start to understand the way Izana felt about you. Its a doomed relationship but its the closest thing to love the both of you will get.

Isn't that nice.

In the good timeline Kakucho is practically apart of the family. And while you are close with the other members of Tenjiku, you talk with Kakucho the most. He still acts as a mediator between you two but his judgements are a little less biased. He also helps around the house a bit too now and then. If you and Izana do ever get married he will cry the entire ceremony.

[arggghhhsstuff]

heyy i would like more of how thalia's time as a tree affected her. was she asleep? was she conscious at all? did she feel trapped, or at peace? could she tell when someone was approaching? did it change her?? chat did it change her. does she miss it??? she is not the same girl she once was, that is much clear. but why, exactly. what changed. i have so many questions

[imagine-to-be-a-pike]

"the knights were more loyal to Merlin than to Arthur" "they would have left Arthur for Merlin" no. Shut up. Nobody loves you

[mischiefprincess]

I've been thinking a lot about Loki and Frigga these days, I don't think she's an evil, manipulative monster like some people but I do think she's a very flawed mother, from what we see in the movies she's very quick to justify and sugarcoat Odin's actions, Yes there's a deleted scene where she confronts him about Thor's banishment but it was deleted for a reason, in the movie itself we see her telling Loki that "there's always a purpose to everything your father does", she's always defending him, never her sons and that tells us a lot about the kind of mother she is, idk if it's bc she puts her position as queen above her position as a mother but she always stand by Odin's side no matter what.

Ofc we know she asks Odin not to kill Loki in tdw but that's just the bare minimum she could do, she always does everything thinking about pleasing Odin above all, she goes visiting Loki as a illusion, in secret to not anger her husband, when Loki is going through the trauma of finding out the truth about his adoption she never acknowledges any responsability for what she and Odin did, she justifies his lies agian by saying he lied to protect Loki

She doesn't acknowledge Loki's pain or his right to be angry at them, she tells him he's their son as if that's enough to heal his wounds, she doesn't ask for forgiveness and doesn't offer Loki any comfort bc her husband was taking a nap and she had to stay by his side at all seconds, it doesn't matter that her son had his whole sense of identity stripped away from him, holding Odin's hand was way more important than giving Loki a hug or anything else

I think at some moment Loki realized that she cared more about being Odin's queen than being their mother bc she'd never stand up for her sons and defend them from the abuses Odin put them through, she just kept justifying it bc she wouldn't dare going against her king, it must've hurt for Loki, realizing that he was truly all by himself in Asgard, he couldn't count on his own mother to publicly defend him from the humiliations he undoubtedly suffered, she would just sneak into his chambers and whisper some words of encouragement privately but when in public he was entirely on his own and he knew it

That's why I care more about Loki reuniting with his friends/found family than him going to New Asgard or to Asgard in the past, I have no doubts that he loves his family with his whole heart and he wants to see them again but I love the new family he built for himself in the show, he has Mobius who will defend him with everything he has and will be his emotional support, validating his feelings and genuinely listening to him, he NEVER felt like he belonged in Asgard but in the show he finally found his place, he found the people he belonged to (as stated by the crew) and he fought to save them for hundreds of years so there's no way I'd want him to leave his new home for him to go back to the place where he was mistreated, belittled and mocked just for being who he was, I want him to stay in the place where feels free to be his true self thank you very much

(Ofc that doesn't mean I don't want him and Thor to reunite again, I just think it's best for him to stay with the people he chose to be his family)

[philosophiums]

hi sam!! so i was skimming through the jjk official character guide and gege says he enjoys drawing people in a clash of opinions—he’s so good at that. it got me thinking, do you have any specific thing you lean toward when writing character dynamics?

hi mariam!!!! <3

ooooo god what a thought provoking question let me put some effort into this

i'm sure the most obvious thing that i love is a sort of like. attack dog/handler situation. it doesn't even have to be romantic, and it can also extend to blade/scabbard or gun/bullet. anyway. it's very explicit with chuuya and umbrius, but it also exists with two other pairings in their universe (though, granted, the universe really allows for it given.... everything). but it is something that i really love. the blind faith/loyalty, the inherent violence, the care and keeping, deep levels of protectiveness from both parties. god you just can't beat it it's so fucking good

but i also really love a situation where characters are talking past each other. they're saying the same things, they're agreeing with each other, but both of them are so wound up for an argument that they're still arguing even though they're on the same page. it feels very real to me, where intellectually you understand that you are agreeing with each other, but you're not saying it exactly the same way, and you were both kind of hoping for a fight but you're not getting it, so you make it one anyway. in the right scene with the right characters with the right amount of stakes happening Anywhere Outside Of The Conversation i think it can have good emotional payoff for the characters and the readers. it's not miscommunication but it's toeing the line and i think that's fun

also i think my years in the aftg fandom/writing andreil fic (and reading tgcf later didn't help either) show through with this one but i love characters (romantic relationship especially but i have it in some friendships too) where they just Get each other. not to the point of reading each other's minds or making predictions but just like. "yeah i know you're stressed because of the way you're doing xyz right now so i'm going to suggest we go have a cigarette" or "well it's 2pm and they're not Here so they have to be There. no i don't need to call them where the fuck else would they be" or "i'm going to say this thing and i know you're going to disagree with me but you need to hear it bc i know what you need right now and it's not coddling." like just... characters who tick to the same rhythm and are able to rotate unobstructed inside of each other's orbits

[hoperays-song]

The Gang In My Continuation Fic Explained

Most of these are based on how I read into the characters in both movies so clearly they are personal interpretation, you don’t have to agree with them. I hope you enjoy tho!

--------------------------

Marcus:

- Comes across as intimidating a lot mainly due to his appearance.

- Is actually a really nice guy, just typically really stressed out worrying about his kid (now kids), brothers, and their finances. He’s a bit silly in nature and protective, he loves taking care of others in any way he can.

- Has relaxed a lot after Sing 1 due to their debt being paid off (thanks Nana) and is mainly just focused on making sure his kids are happy and safe.

- Very much family oriented and spends pretty much every single moment of his day with his family. He doesn’t really feel the need to expand his social circle past this radius either, he just wants to be with his family.

- Decently overprotective of Johnny due to his mum dying when he was young (and him being his last piece of her) as well as Johnny’s struggles with both his health and social life as a child. He constantly is worried about his son and if he’s ok and happy, sometimes being overbearing without meaning to. He just wants his son to have a good life.

- He will primarily show affection in form of Acts of Service and Quality Time, but uses a lot of Words of Affirmation and Physical Touch (hugs, hair ruffling, forehead kisses) with his kids.

- Was disowned formally when he was 24 but had always had a horrible relationship with his birth family. He changed his name to Marcus when that happened.

- Out of the gang, he’s the mediator. He’s the bridge between Stan’s chaos and impulsivity and Barry’s bluntness and cool nature. He typically ends up settling their arguments and only propsed the idea of the gang out of necessity.

- Came out as Demisexual after doing research to support Johnny (who identifies as a Demiboy).

- Had a punk phase growing up which is wear his jacket (that’s now Johnny’s) originates.

- ADHD and struggles a lot with abandonment issues as well as rejection sensitive dysphoria. He is now in therapy though.

- Within the troupe, he’s closet to Rosita and Norman, mainly due to them taking care of Johnny while he was in jail as his son’s foster parents but also because of their more calm nature.

- The best way to describe him is: stressed, worried, and slightly overprotective dad.

-----------

Stan:

- Basically looks like a (very slightly) chiller version of a party loving college student.

- He’s always full of energy and down for whatever, even if it’s a bad idea. Very much a daredevil and adrenaline junkie, he’s never really been one for rules and is a trailblazer of his own path in life.

- A bit more obviously fun-loving compared to how he was in Sing 1 now, due to his debts being paid off (thanks again Nana) and his family’s relationships being on the mend.

- Spends a lot of times with his brothers and family, as well as being  the social butterfly of the group and actually having a fair number of friends outside of it he hangs out with.

- Like Marcus, he is also a bit overprotective of Johnny (though definitely less than his older brother). However, he does also enjoy teasing Johnny constantly.

- Primarily shows affection to everyone through Quality Time and Gift Giving, even though the gifts are typically junk food that Marcus has banned from the garage for Johnny’s health apparently (Johnny and Barry appreciate these gifts).

- Was never close with his birth family and cut off contact when he was 20 to go to college with Barry, who had been his neighbor growing up and who he had considered his baby brother.

- Out of the gang, he’s the energy. He always wants to do something and is pretty impulsive. He was onboard with the robberies from the start and did bicker with Barry about wether or not they were nessicary for a while.

- Deliberately unlabeled about his sexuality and a huge supporter to his family when they came out.

- Still dresses like a university student with a lot of jerseys and a thrifted letterman as his style hasn’t changed since uni.

- ADHD and struggles with sudden changes in routine and rejection sensitive dysphoria. He is also in therapy now.

- When he met the theatre adults for the first time, he became fast friends with Gunter due to their similar personalities, but he is also decently friendly with Buster as well.

- The best way to describe him is: fun-loving, teasing, and energetic uncle.

-----------

Barry:

- Comes off as rude a lot due to how quiet he is and very few facial expressions in public.

- While he is very blunt in both nature and speech, Barry is very passionate about things, just isn’t one to use a lot of things to express that. He is also highly intelligent and is on track to get his doctorate degree.

- He has started to focus more on getting his degree compared to Sing 1, now that he has time since he isn’t constantly working due to debt (Nana is a godssend).

- Prefers to spend any time he’s not with his family alone, is the exact opposite of Stan in this case. However, this rule is a way to see if Barry considers a person family as he does not really see people as friends. They’re either family or strangers.

- He is somewhere in-between Marcus and Stan’s levels of overprotectiveness of Johnny. He is the closest to Johnny out of him and Stan and has been the boy’s confidant since he was little, so he typically knows more about the situations that the other two. He does also join Stan in teasing Johnny though.

- Primarily shows affection through Quality time, particulary in the form of body doubling. The only exception to this rule is Johnny (who he does have a soft spot for) and will occasionally use Words of Affirmation or Physical Touch (mainly short hugs).

- Was raised in a group house in foster care and never really connected with anyone there. Has no contact with anyone from his birth family either.

- Out of the gang, he’s the voice of reason. he protested the robberies in the first place and was the one to insist on them learning medical training first. He’s the direct contrast to Stan.

- Has been out as bisexual since grade school and was bullied for it for awhile before Stan stepped in. Was the first to put together that Johnny was gay and supported him.

- Was the quiet kid throughout school and still dresses in a lot of his old hoodies (the others now belong to Johnny as they are the closest in size).

- Autism and can go mute at times. He struggles a lot with social cues and social norms, typically needing Stan to interpret, and overstimulation as well. He is also in therapy.

- Unsuprisingly to his family, he isn’t really close to any adult member of the troupe. He’s always struggled with connecting with people. However, he is fond of Rosita due to how much she helped Johnny while they were in jail and will occasionally play games online with Eddie.

- The best way to describe him is: blunt, straight-forward, and protective uncle.

[frenchphobe]

dot talking to wes’ grave in the thanksgiving episode at the end

[multishipper-baby]

Thinking about how the whole Deya situation resolved because having the family fight makes me big sad :c

[save-mohamed-family]

My campaign is verified and added to the Gaza Donations page with number 192.

Thank you for documenting my campaign from the following accounts:

@sar-soor @heba-20

@el-shab-hussein

@90-ghost @soon-palestine

@ibtisams @marnota @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @i-am-aprl @northgazaupdates @fallahifag @fairuzfan

I love you all 🙏🙏♥️🌹

I am Mohammed Almanasra, 32 years old, married, and a father of three children: Abdulrahman, 6 years old, Sarah, 4 years old, and Lina, 3 years old.

My story began with the loss of my parents and four of my sisters, who were bombed and lost their lives along with their children after the events of October 7 and the severe war on Gaza. Now, I am facing a severe injury to my leg, which is at risk of amputation if I do not receive the necessary treatment. My wife, children, and I are displaced, without parents or siblings, and my wife is also suffering from uterine cancer.

Recently, I moved to the south of the Gaza Strip, fearing for the lives of my children. We left behind our memories and our new home, for which we had not finished paying the installments, in addition to losing my job. Currently, I live in a tent that does not protect me from the heat of summer or the cold of winter, and without the minimum necessary livinng basics including water, food medical care, clothe and even bedding .

I suffer from a chronic asthma and severe attacks from tightness and an extreme allergy in the ear and I need medicine that are not available, or very expensive .

Under these difficult circumstances, after five attempts at displacement and narrowly escaping death from the bombing, I am trying with all my might to protect my family, the most precious thing I have.

My dreams were shattered, and my house was destroyed, and I found myself living in a tent no larger than 4 square metres. My work turned from a tailor to a street vendor in order to barely buy a few crumbs of bread to feed my children.

Look at what happened to my children because of the intense heat and the insects that thrive in the summer season. Every day, I take them to the hospital to treat them due to poisonous insect bites. I implore every kind-hearted soul to help me protect my children.

My son, Abdul Rahman, has a deep passion for playing football and is a devoted fan of Real Madrid. He always dreamed of playing football at his school, but the war prevented this dream from coming true.

Where are you, Real Madrid fans ?

Help Abdul Rahman achieve his dream.

Every donation will make an enormous difference in helping me save my family.

I feel very sad and embarrassed to ask for help, but I have no other options left. I know that this request is difficult, but I also know that there is still humanity and living consciences and I believe in miracles.

Your support during this extremely difficult time will give us hope in the midst of devastation and despair.

If you have any inquiries or questions, feel free to ask me, please!

To everyone with a compassionate heart,

To all who understand the essence of humanity,

This is a message from my innocent children, who trust that their words will reach everyone who truly understands the meaning of childhood.

We cry out to you, asking you to feel our sorrow and pain, and to extend a helping hand to us in this time when we are in desperate need of your mercy and compassion.

My name is being repeatedly added to many public and private donation campaigns. Please, be a support for me in this difficult situation.

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/1yYkNp5U3ANwILl2MknJi9G7ArY4uVTEEQ1CVfzR8Ioo/htmlview

@communistchilchuck 🫶🇵🇸

@nabulsi

@sayruq

@communistchilchuck @90-ghost @sar-soor @fairuzfan @ibtisams @fallahifag @vakarians-babe @palipunk @palestinecharitycommissionsassoc @stil-lindigo @vakarian-shepard @northgazaupdates

@faggotfungus @ghost-and-a-half @three-croissants @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @marnota @northgazaupdates

Sincere greetings & thanks

Mohammed & the family