#i picked up a new compulsion it’s bad I hate it I hate it I’m going insane <3

[clunelover]

Omg I want to brag about a thing we did last night. So, I struggle with all aspects of keeping house. Tidying is especially rough cause not everything has a place currently so I do get stuck in "oh my god there’s nowhere to put anything, my whole life is a chaotic disaster" wheel-spinning. It also triggers my "just right" compulsions to do something part way, or to watch a child do something "wrong," so I’ve also never really made the kids do many chores, which I know is BAD (although then I also get too caught up in "oh my god we’ve never taught the kids to make their beds or to always pick up after themselves, they’re going to be the terrible entitled/helpless people everyone hates to have as college roommates!!" catastrophizing)…long story short, basically any aspect of cleaning, or not cleaning, can trigger all sorts of emotional crap for me. So, default strategy has been to avoid it all as much as I can, which did get better while I was in treatment, but of course it’s a lot different cleaning up alone while having half the day completely to myself, as opposed to keeping on top of it as a family as part of day to day, full time working parents life.

My therapist recommended that we try doing "walkthroughs" - just 10-15 mins of going through the house as a family, and putting things back that do have an obvious home. Not cleaning, just base-level tidying. Bring a laundry basket with to put things in that belong upstairs, so you’re not running up and down the whole time. I put her off for a week but, since I have therapy today, we finally did that last night, and it was GREAT! C kinda hated it, but he participated the minimum amount. E got kind of into it, and suggested adding picking up in the entryway as part of it, which we did. Idk it sounds so basic, but we’d just never done it before (sometimes Jeremy would clean with the kids but I never participated due to anxiety so it had a hard time becoming part of routine). Anyway, ideally we’d do a walkthrough a couple times a week, which I think is doable. We also finally dug through our "stair bins"- these little oddly shaped baskets that fit on top of a couple stairs, with the idea that you put things in there that belong upstairs, and then when it’s full carry it up and put the things away - but they’d become just a repository for random crap with no home, so we finally cleaned that crap out. I’m so proud! Of finally doing this one bare minimum thing! (Yeah yeah I know, it’s clearly actually difficult for me, otherwise I’d have done more by now…but I do also have to laugh at myself). I can’t wait to tell therapist the good news this afternoon!!

[44-docx]

15/04/24

I had a rough past few days. Two days ago I had one of the worst panic attacks of my life. Thank god my partner was there to help me. They held me and when I saw the look on their face I wouldn’t let myself dissociate. It hurt almost , in the weirdest way, and was so hard but I was able to. And so I didn’t record my food that day or the day after, but I felt okay about the food I ate. Today I feel as though I ate more than I should have and am having shame I dislike the feeling of but I’m reconciling with having put it in my mouth to begin with so I’m sitting with this feeling lol.

Breakfast 8:00

I had all of this. I was kinda nauseous halfway through then it dissipated and I finished. I got hungry an hour after and had this snack. I was studying and needed a pick me up, hence the red bull. I usually try to avoid caffeine but I’ve been TIRED all day :).

Lunch: 12:00

For lunch I had chicken and egg on rice. I added hot sauce and honey. I had that soup and picked out two dumplings and thre the rest out. Then I picked up this little bit my cafeteria was serving. I didn’t like the potato it had because ew it was soggy asf, so I just ate the smoked salmon instead. Didn’t really want it tbh but I ate it and regretted it in my mouth but I can’t spit it out in public like I would alone. Not gonna lie, spitting things out if I don’t like them is a new development that kinda keeps me true to eating only what I like and want. I don’t chew and spit, not something I have ever done! But having the ability to respect myself enough not to swallow something I hate is part of me trying to regulate what I eat. I got cereal for desert, again. I saved this muffin and picked at it for like 2 hrs as I tend to do while I work , it’s a bad habit because I feel like sugar helps me focus…. More on that at 3:30 lol. (Also I did not eat that banana)

3:30 “snack”

So I had this snack which I feel like was rather large. I had a handful of cashews, maybe more, a few bites of yogurt and an orange with a coffee with oat milk. That caffeine kicked me into being able to work again because I was honestly dissociating and was able to get a hold of it again! I’m getting really good at that and am really proud of myself. I started work and got a reasonable amount done and then I noticed my blood sugar dipping again. I am noticing that when my blood sugar feels low I feel out of breath and get super bad brain fog and am not able to work! (Big surprise wow I know) but as somebody who would force myself through work after barely eating I’m noticing just how productive I am when I actually eat - especially when I have sugar. So I got a slushes and oh my did that kick me into high gear lol.

Dinner: 8:00

I had this chicken burger and peeled off the extra bun parts because why do I need that much bread for such wimpy patties??? Like buy smaller buns if you’re gonna be that cheap? Anyways enough beef with my cafeteria. I had half the fries and a load of ranch and hot sauce with honey. It started to freak me out actually having the sauce about halfway through eating it, and then I was like okay let’s just see if we finished it. And then I did . And I’m trying to be neutral about that. I almost wanted more food but then I realized I didn’t want it I just wanted it because it was available and I would freak out if I ate more because I was already full and I should stop. Having unlimited food is really hard as someone who has binges, uncontrollable eating spells where I feel out of control regardless of how much I eat it feels compulsive because I’ve restricted for so long. Trying to recover with a cafeteria is hard lol. But… I stopped myself. I had cereal, I also got a little carrot cake but I realized I didn’t want it so I just ate the cereal. Actually eating the cereal did make me feel like I was pushing myself and made me consider P, but I did not. I’m fine and I’m full and that’s okay. It just feels like sooooo much food. Not being able to put anything back is also kinda ficked up to me because like , I will take something and have to throw it out, which I obviously don’t wanna do but I’ve grown comfortable doing as a part of my healing . Anyhow I’m looking at the carrot cake I smuggled out of there because I didn’t want it but wouldn’t throw out because I may want it later. I have an exam at 9 am so I expect I will be up late studying.

Taking photos of my food has been super freeing. I’m really happy that I started doing this. Throughout the day I have these thought about trying to calculate my food that I’ve had for years. Now being able to SEE what I eat is putting me at ease in a way I can’t quite explain. I feel a sense of freedom from it and I’m not trying to use it in a toxic way either which is nice that I don’t have that compulsion. I’m trying to focus on the fact that this food will fuel my brain for my exam tomorrow morning and and I’m trying to be happy for myself because I did a good job at studying today and avoiding dissociation - and regardless of my marks I think I’ve done a good job here preparing and that puts my anxiety at ease.

I’m on SLYND now which is a birth control. I’ve been taking it for two days now. It may cause weight gain but most people say it doesn’t which is a blessing omg. Keeping this food diary will help me make sure I’m not being adversely affected by the medication to eat more. And that gives me comfort because my last birth control I gained FORTY POUNDS. Omg I can’t even think about it it was so bad . Like with such bad body image it SUCKED. Really made my eating disorder worse for sure. But here I am trying to recover and mitigate the risks in a healthy way by monitoring my appetite and intake💪

Anyways, back to studying.

[mychemicalroadworkahead]

Hi I’m gonna be an insufferable prick and explain a bunch of my comic series because uhm. I really like it.

General content warnings: self harm, suicide, drugs, eating disorder, addiction, death, sexual assault, murder, and probably other stuff but those are the specific things I want you to know of.

First off, characters!

Toby: he’s 20, has adhd, homeless, and like. 5’7”? He’s got roughly shoulder length hair and was dating Jesse first and yeah (I’ll get into the polycule stuff later). He does not like going to bars with Jesse because people always treat Jesse like a little kid (and Jesse always pays for him, he feels bad about both things) but he agreed to go to stonewall inn because he’d been hired at a new job that day and Mikey and Jesse wanted to take him out to celebrate. He killed Mikey on accident because he got scared when the fights started breaking out and had a piece of broken glass in his hand as a precaution and Mikey tried to drag him to a back alley so they’d be safe and Toby got scared and shanked him without realizing that it was him. He realized and immediately ran away. (No he didn’t call 911 because fun fact: EMS wasn’t created in the US until 1973 and stonewall happened in 69.)

Jesse: he’s the mc in the comic, he’s 19, has anorexia (if you saw the original drawings yeah I changed it), and had fungal meningitis as a child that resulted in the loss of his right leg, and because any prosthetics that were available at the time were incredibly expensive and he has the balance of a drunken newborn, he’s wheelchair bound (he does always fold his left pant leg because he thinks it’s funny and also it keeps it out of the way). He started dating Mikey first out of him and Toby. He made it to the back alley where Mikey tried to take Toby and ran into Mikey’s body. He was, understandably horrified. While he was still in shock he made his way home (which took roughly an hour and a half) and realized he needed someone to be with him so he went to his friend James’s house and they. Okay so they end up fucking. And it is a pattern that continues. It’s important to the comic plot I promise. But it’s a whole thing and then James eventually goes okay dude this is really bad for you like I think you should actually talk it out yknow and then Jesse just sorta goes oh yeah you’re right and promptly goes home and develops a self harm addiction and he was. Sorta using random bits of metal he found on the ground outside and a guy sees him picking one up and assumes he’s gonna use it to do cocaine and is like yo if you wanna do drugs with other people I’m about to shoot up some heroin if you want some and he just goes yeah sure and yeah anyway he gets aids. And then he finds out and he kills himself via overdose.

Mikey: he’s trans and 18 and he had leukemia and he wanted to be a doctor and yeah I love him he’s my favorite if he lived long enough he would’ve been an EMT but he didn’t because Toby killed him and he doesn’t know it was an accident so he assumed it was a hate crime and he’s understandably pissed about it because he sees it as like fucking hell I was already gonna die young from leukemia but then my fucking boyfriend fucking shanked me and cut me off sooner than I should’ve been. He also narrates the entire comic so any boxes of text are just him talking. He’s like 5’9” and he doesn’t like sex jokes because they embarrass the shit out of him. He’s only actually seen in the last issue of the comic where he’s in the afterlife which is just the back rooms with Jesse and the fight each other and then just end up collapsing in a corner and Mikey starts sobbing because fuck Jesse killed himself and he feels bad that he felt like that and just starts compulsively apologizing and saying he loves him and idk I think that would be the end of the comic. He’s also got a little heterochromia spice because why not

Benji: he’s 23, Italian American, like 5’5”, has hyperosmia, and is a heroin addict (he’s the one that offered to share with Jesse). He’s also married* to Jane and he loves them very much. He started off with smoking cigarettes and it escalated in the order of weed, cocaine, heroin. He started smoking and drinking as a teenager to try to keep his ptsd at bay (he was sexually assaulted by a friend walking home one night), and it’s a combination of the distraction and high that got him addicted (once he started doing coke he stopped drinking because they were both expensive and he didn’t want to spend that much). He has a decent amount of trust issues for obvious reasons, but he would, and on many occasions has, trusted Jane with his life. He was at stonewall celebrating his and Jane’s second wedding anniversary.

Jane: they’re 25, Native American, queer, an alcoholic, and will fuck you up if you hurt someone they’re close to. They’re also 6’1” and have 4 foot long hair. They’re a cashier at the corner store and they know a lot of people because of it. They have a soft spot in their heart for rats because there were so many where they grew up and they kept them as pets. No one knows what sex they were assigned at birth but everyone they’re friends with accepts that this is unimportant. They’re alcoholism didn’t really have a reason to happen, they were just drinking frequently and one day realized it had been almost three months since they were last sober. It took them a while but at the time of the comic they’re two months sober. They are the one that found Jesse’s body.

Lauren: she’s 22, demiromantic, lesbian, Latina, has adhd and auditory processing disorder, and is a smoker. She works at the library with Jesse and they’re besties. Her favorite genre of book is horror because her dad got her into it. Her mother died in childbirth but her father made sure she had everything she needed and as much as he could provide. She’s incredibly close with her father and she makes dinner for them at his house once a week. She dated Cali for a bit before the comic but they broke up roughly two years prior to the start. She is in fact named after her mother because why not. She was not at stonewall initially but she joined in the riots the second day.

Caliope (Cali): she’s 23, asexual, transgender, is dating Alex, and has bipolar disorder. She’s a bartender at the Stonewall Inn and she stayed through all the rioting. She’s decently polite but if you don’t respect her don’t expect her to give you the time of day. She loves her job and her favorite drink to make is an old fashioned but she hates the taste of liquor. She has been known to mix wine and soda occasionally, but mostly drinks the orange juice when she’s working. She’s absolutely the subject of the song Lola by the kinks.

Alexander (Alex): he’s 21, bisexual, transgender and has ocd. He’s in a t4t relationship with Cali. He works at a gas station and actually adores pumping gas for people because he likes the smell. One of his main compulsions is clenching his hands which he developed because of his job. He has motor tics as a comorbidity with his ocd and his neck is in constant pain because of it. The tics piss him off just as much as his compulsions do. He was bringing Cali dinner and got caught up in the riots on the 28. He ended up with a broken arm.

George: 64, autistic, Italian and Irish, has bipolar disorder and chronic pain disorder, owns and runs the corner store. He’s also Adam’s uncle and was his primary caregiver for about 13 years because his wife’s family died in a house fire on Christmas Eve. He was home sick that year so he couldn’t go. He’s a cheery old chap despite the loss, and tried his best to raise Adam right and well. He struggled with alcoholism for a bit before his wife died, but the circumstances of her death made him get his shit together. He feels terrible for the things he did before he got it together and he wishes the people he hurt could understand how sorry he is.

Adam: he’s 47, Hispanic and Italian, gay, has ocd, and helps run the corner store. His mother was George’s sister in law, more specifically his wife’s sister. He has vague memories of his family, but he was 6 when the fire happened. He figured out a cocktail of over the counter drugs that helped to reduce symptoms of his ocd, but the compulsions still come out occasionally, though they’re mostly in the form of obsessing over intrusive thoughts. He’s constantly very worried about hurting people, and the intrusive thoughts do not help at all. He had a pretty good childhood all things considered, but he was mostly isolated by other kids. His favorite part of working at the corner store is restocking because he enjoys the mind numbing quality of the repetitive movements.

James: he’s 20, autistic, aromatic, African American, and Jesse’s best friend ^. He’s decidedly an artist, in a sense that he spends every available waking moment writing, drawing, or baking. He loves poetry and realistic fiction novels, as well as street art and photography. He once spent an entire day working on an amazing drawing just to be horrendously disappointed when he woke up to discover that not only was it a dream, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what he was drawing. He’s a local handyman and enjoys fixing things. He’s a very loving person and he’s been friends with Jesse since they were kids, as they lived next door to each other and were both bullied in school.

And now for the polycule because I feel like it needs it’s own explanation:)

Polycule in general: okay alright so Toby and Jesse started dating in high school then they graduated a bit after and then a couple months later Mikey graduated and he met Jesse at a library and Jesse worked there so they would see each other a lot. So Jesse asks Toby hey would you be cool if I started going out with this guy in addition to going out with you and y’all would be metamors and Toby is like yeah babe that’s chill and so Jesse asks Mikey out and he says yes and they did all the polyamory rigmarole and then dating stuff and then one day Mikey’s like hey I’d really like to meet your boyfriend and Jesse’s like oh alright so they all meet up and Mikey and Toby get along great and they keep hanging out and eventually Mikey and Toby start dating as well so then they’re all three dating and they do cute little three part dates where they draw names for who gets to pick the food who gets to pick a movie and who gets to pick a board game and they love each other so much.

General setting of the comic: Hoboken, NJ, and New York City in late June of 1969, specifically starting on June 28 at around 3:15 am.

*not legally for obvious reasons, but they absolutely consider themselves to be spouses.

^yes yes I did name them after Jesse James

[littlerosetrove]

My spoiler thoughts for episode 6x14

Why is Eddie simply DRIVING (in a pick-up) so attractive??? How??????

Eddie was soooo sassy towards his Pepa. Bitchy Eddie, my absolute beloved. 😆💕

Also, Eddie jumping to “I can’t marry a stranger.” Ummm, the compulsive heteronormativity is real with this guy. No one said anything about marriage my guy.

Okay. I’m saying this as a married person, but even so, I too would hate to be set up on a blind date, but that’s just me.

Sunset picture in Pepa’s house, that was behind Eddie in the scene! Just a little more detour on McFuckin Sunset y’all!!

“I just feel like I have to perform.” Ohhhh my god this is not a straight man. And Eddie was so =((((( during that lunch scene with the fire fam. He was GRUMPY about a WOMAN texting him. Help, he’s so funny and gay. 😆

Buck is so unbothered about Eddie going on this date with… Veronica? Buck knows Eddie so well.

JFC that bakery scene!! 😳 A very specific worst nightmare right there. Really sucks for the boss lady, but uhhhh glad she realized that hey, removing safety measures is really dangerous and stupid, no matter “the numbers.”

So Eddie’s “date”? I just wanna know WHAT was Eddie gonna say after “full disclosure”?????? Let the queer man speak!! But also, Veronica (I think is her name) said something about not wanting to break her own heart, which Eddie did say he could relate to. Yeah, I think Eddie IS afraid to have his heart broken again.

Shush Maddie was wonderful during that panic attack call.

Can y’all imagine season 2 or even 3 Eddie just - talking about his not-date like that with Bobby? Buck doesn’t count because it’s well established that Buck and Eddie really… don’t talk about any type of romantic partners with each other. Statistically, they avoid it as much as possible. We Buddie folk know why ofc. ;)

I did see spoilers for this, and it’s true that at least 3 people have told Buck “you died,” but Buck hasn’t said it out loud himself. Yeah, he’s not fully processed it yet, hence I think the death doula in an upcoming episode who will probably help him with that.

Bobby has a praise kink, omfg. 😳😆 Just like Buck, because like father like son fcghvjlkjhg 😳😆

Well, I appreciate that Athena calmed down the audience in a good way, for lack of a better phrasing. Hm, interesting that the bodybuilding son only did it for his dad? Yeah dude, you gotta do stuff that you love and want, not just for what others want.

Damn, the conversation between Ravi and Chimney got dark and got me emotional.

Loved the conversation between Pepa and Eddie. Eddie at least admitting he doesn’t want to be alone. Now the thing is is for Eddie to realize that he’s not alone. He’s with Buck a lot, which… I’m so curious how often he mentions he is with Buck? Like, Eddie wouldn’t hide that he spends time with Buck and yet? Somehow Pepa at least seems to think Eddie only has Chris, when Eddie already has a partner in Buck.

Maddie and Chimney singing to Jee was so sweet. 🥺

So I definitely need more scenes/episodes with Ravi and Chimney. I really enjoyed this pairing/dynamic.

So Novak may be new at dispatch? That was a good call from Chimney, and just great leadership, showing Novak he can still help people.

Oh to be bear hugged by Buck. 🥰

If anyone is saying this was a bad episode, well they’re wrong. This was a great episode! I think it was well balanced in everything. *ticks off fingers* We got: - Chimney processing/working on his grief around Kevin, and understanding he can be a leader. - Ravi is coming back! - Eddie is at least admitting that he doesn’t want to be alone (which helps him get closer to being with Buck, people need to chill). - Hen working on how to deal with Nathaniel in her family's life, with some guidance from Athena.  - Some good fire fam scenes.

[tacit-semantics]

I wish I was a fucked up sea creature I wish some poor scientist was digging me up from under a rock like yeah by all rights this thing should not be able to function WHAT is going on here

[llendrinall]

Our Flag Means Death

The gay pirates show. I am amazed by the fandom reaction to that tv show and I am surprised by my own joyful reaction to it. I don’t remember when I was last so excited about something. I have been thinking about it for the past few days and I think it’s a combination of factors.

One, the show is good. More later.

Two, the show is complete. Yes, yes, we all want a second season, we need it, we crave it, but the show itself is rounded. We don’t have to pick the good bits around the rotten core, we can take it as a whole and enjoy it whole. More later.

Three, we as the public were tired of very bad fiction from the last few years. Or at least I was very tired. I look back and, really? I had erased from my mind that there ever was a Sherlock Season 4 and I’m sorry to remind you now. And, Marvel? And Fantastic Beasts? Giving fandom even less than what Supernatural was giving. No musical motives, no carefully chosen palette to link two characters, just bland consumer-ready fiction.

We were starved for stories with density, with something to pick apart and analyze. I am compulsively reading analysis of OFMD’s elements (food, clothes, hairstyles, music, touch, skin, everything!). There are so many! Fandom is used to not getting what it wants and having to squint and read between the lines, but I think that lately the fiction products were so plain and formulaic that we didn’t even have that. No more, “look at Bucky’s way of moving compared to the Winter Soldier” or “Fandom likes Loki because he is female-coded and women know how it feels to be the second place in affection despite being better”. It was all sugar coating and no filling.

Of course, this answers to how I curate my experience and what I consume. Maybe I am missing on a lot of good takes. But it’s telling that the hottest idea I have read in fandom in the last two years is this essay: Everybody is beautiful and no one is horny (so good! Go read it) which precisely points out that there is a certain emptiness in the beautiful superheroes bodies we are presented.

Now, about the first two points, the show isn’t good because it has an explicit loving queer relationship (it has three!). It is good because it is complete. As audiences we are used to pick little details and squeeze them until we get an ounce of meaning we can drink. And we love it! We hate the frustration of never getting more than that, but we enjoy those contextual details because they make relationships feel real and organic.

Too often, white heterosexual relationships are built on empty ground. There is a man, there is a woman and by the laws of cheap narrative they must like each other despite not showing any chemistry on screen. It’s only natural that the woman would show instant interest on the hero even though they barely talked through the movie. Do I need to give examples? Come on, just think of any movie and tell me, why were those two together again?

OFMD doesn’t build relationships like that. Making the queer relationships explicit doesn’t mean they can now be lazy and simply push the two characters together. No, we still get the beautiful hints, the slowly built tension, the story written and coded in the empty spaces. This is good writing.

The show is complete (despite the devastating need for a second season) because it can be consumed whole. There is no obvious element missing, nor things we would rather not see and that we swallow because we have to. There is not “if only” hanging in the air. Sure, some say they would have liked to see more women and more of Mary, but I’m very happy with what we saw of her in episode 10, plus considering the things we have had to put up with…

 Orange is the New Black was the first show where I saw different bodies (fat bodies, thin bodies, tall, short, young, aging, white, black, brown…). It was so revolutionary to see so many different women! Especially 40+ aged women. But the show is a drama and there is sexual assault and after a couple of seasons it derails badly.

Brooklyn 99 was the first show where I saw “more than one”. More than one Latina woman. More than one black man. Eventually more than one queer character. And it’s a comedy! In which the white male hero actually listens and checks his behavior and apologizes and gives up prizes. But it’s also a cop show and even though they had tackled the topic of racism… Yeah, no.

Galavant is a gorgeous musical comedy in a fantasy setting. Amazing. Very recommendable. It tried new things. There is a different take on masculinity. But the best part are the songs not the story.

 These are shows I like, but all of them have a missing piece. I won’t say that OFMD is perfect, but it is rounded and complete where other shows aren’t. It’s balanced. And it’s always giving content. When you aren’t watching the two oblivious idiots fall in love, you are watching POC representation and colonialism and class relations (oh, boy, class relations) and different definitions of what it means to be a man and just a bunch of idiots making each other better, together, by unlearning toxic lessons.

We were licking at the syrup of dummy cakes, looking for crumbs, and finally, finally, we have an actual cake with filling and cream and an orange –not a cherry, no, an actual orange– sliced in two at the top.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Life Goes On

This if for @buckybarnesplumwhore​

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; grieving, funeral, breeding, handcuffs, warnings are not exhaustive so read at your own discretion.

This is dark! Andy Barber x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You volunteer at the local youth center but when one of the kids meets an unfortunate end, you cross paths with his father. No stranger to grief, you try to help him cope but find it a bigger than task that you expected.

Note: When I started writing, I had no plan. When I kept writing, there was still no plan. And then it just all kinda happened.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

It was too sunny for a funeral. A funeral come too soon.

The service was held out in the sun, rows of wooden chairs and a sombre old priest. You never knew if the Barbers were religious but it was easy to find a holy man in Massachusetts, as easy as those early years of settlement found in textbooks. 

There were no flowers, only two oblong caskets shrouded in black cloth, the name of each of the dead on silver placards, no pictures, no souvenir of who they were.

It was like Andy was already trying to forget them. He was at the front, the grieving widower and father. You were lost somewhere in the middle with his co-workers, there out of propriety more than empathy, and distant relatives who attended out of courtesy, some passing acquaintances who followed the story in the papers more than out of compassion. It was a spectacle and Andy had done his best from feeding the leering onlookers.

You knew Jacob more than his parents. He was younger than you, almost ten years apart. You knew him from the youth group you volunteered for, the same one you'd been in at his age. He was out of place there, he was from a better neighbourhood than the other kids, they called him the rich brat, and he resented himself more for it than he did them.

His attendance kept his mother happy. He didn't like the individual counseling, he didn't talk, so she put him in the group and he talked there. Sometimes. The kids never went on philosophical monologues but they understood each other and shared what they needed to.

Laurie was always late to pick him up. So he stayed to help stack the chairs and you ended up waiting with him, making sure he wasn't alone in the dark. He hated that at first too, until he realised you weren't on the stoop to council or judge. You were just two people, chatting to pass the time.

Sometimes Andy picked him up. He was friendlier than Laurie. Jacob's mother was always in a rush, even on her way home where there was no deadline. She said thanks, maybe, and drove off as she began to lecture Jacob about how he wore his hat. Andy offered you a ride, every time, as if he had some compulsion to be the good guy, the saviour. You always said no, the bus was a five minute ride to your building, fifteen minutes if you walked.

Now Jacob was dead, his mother too. Another tragedy inflicted upon those least likely. Even death didn't stop the whispers, even that venue, the priest's collar, the Biblical dirges, the grim family man in black did not silence them. It sickened you as the service ended and the people rose in a hushed murmur.

Andy left without talking to anyone. The procession of cars would drive through the streets with flags to mark the grieving on their way to the interment. It was as if Andy was doing what was expected more than what he felt he owed the deceased. He was ever the lawyer, formal and curt.

You followed the grey parade. Not out of obligation but out of genuine regret. Jacob seemed like a lost kid, even in death. The rumours, the accusations, the suspicion, followed him. The people didn't watch the dirt fall from the shovel to see him at peace, they watched it as some grand finale to the great show of the Barbers.

When the metal no longer cut and scattered the soil, the crowd thinned out. You stayed as the diggers packed up. You were sad for Jacob, for Laurie. Andy hadn't been there to see the burial. You couldn't blame him but you were surprised. He just disappeared after the service, apparently done with his part in the play. 

You went closer and stared at the new stone that stretched above both plots. Laurie Barber… and her son, Jacob Barber. May they rest. It was as short, as minimal as anything else about the affair. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. You didn't know if Jacob was a bad seed, it wasn't your job to make that call, but he had just been a kid and all that potential was now six feet down.

"Didn't think anyone would stick around," the dark figure stepped up beside you, his steps muted by the grass, "least of all, you."

"I'm sorry, I…" you looked at Andy and then the dirt, "I'll go."

"Wait," he said before you could move, "I thought-- I thought I wanted to be alone for this…" he shoved his hand in his pocket, "but I've been alone since it happened and I'm realising, I'm gonna be alone from here on out."

You didn't say a word. You didn't know what you could say. He'd heard a hundred apologies, a hundred condolences.

"I'm happy someone stayed, that someone cared," he cleared his throat, "thank you."

You nodded and played with the buttons on your cardigan.

"He was too. Happy, you know, that someone cared. I think back now and I realise that you probably saw him more than me. He was always excited to go to the centre but he got in that car and he just… deflated." He shook his head, "maybe this is better. One way or the other, he wanted to get away from me but he never could get away from Laurie. She wouldn't let him go."

He chuckled sardonically but it quickly fizzled in his throat.

"Sorry, I'm rambling…"

"You're processing," you said, "a lot of the kids down at the centre, they lost parents, one way or the other, orphans, fosters… I always told them that they didn't have to make sense because grief never really does."

"Now that makes a lot of sense," he said, "but you shouldn't have to listen to me."

"I shouldn't or you don't think you should say any of it?"

"Hmmm," he hummed, "yeah, maybe."

"I don't get paid to listen to those kids, I just get a time and a place to do so. This isn't different. It's just talking and a lot of that is just figuring things out. Listening is easy, you're doing the hard part."

"Jeez, you come up with this stuff on your own or is there some sort of how-to book?"

You lifted your chin and sucked in your lip. You could tell where Jacob got the bite from.

"Sorry, that was… mean," he said after the silence settled with the dirt, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure," you said.

"You got somewhere to be?"

"No…" you answered cautiously.

"Do you think you might wanna listen to me a little more? I'll buy you a coffee for the trouble."

"You wanna talk? To me?"

"Better than anyone I do know," he snorted, "they all just give me that dumb look. They pity me, judge me. You don't have to say yes but I started now, if I stop, I'll...stop."

"Coffee?" You glanced over at him, "I'd rather tea."

"I'm sure they got that too," he fiddled with the trim of his pocket, "anytime you wanna bail, let me know."

"If I can handle teen angst, I think I can handle you."

🖤

That afternoon wasted away in the corner of a café. It felt like any other day but for Andy, you knew, it was likely the worst day of his life. Likely a day he wouldn’t forget. You sat patiently until the last of your tea was cold. He didn’t finish his coffee, he hardly even touched it. When you checked the time, he looked down embarrassed.

“It’s late,” he said, “I… I’m sorry for keeping you so long.”

“I didn’t have anything to do. I doubt you did either,” you swept up the paper cup and your purse.

“No, really, I mean, you don’t know me. You knew Jacob and I just sat here and talked your ear off for hours. I--” he looked out the window, “I know that when I go home, the house will still be empty. That’s why I’m here.”

You looked past him as he turned back. You chewed your lip, “Andy, have you looked into counseling yet?”

“It feels… too early for that.”

“Too early?”

“I don’t want to let it go. Don’t want to let them go,” he sucked his hands in his pockets, “if I go, that’s what they’ll tell me to do.”

“No, they’d help you live with it, not forget it,” you said, “but I know, it’s scary. Have you done anything? Read anything?”

“Read?”

“Self-help isn’t for everyone and those dummy books aren’t great I admit, but sometimes a start is better than nothing. What about… a routine? Do you have one?”

“I work, I come home, I sleep, and try not to notice they’re gone,” he shrugged, “and repeat. Lot of overtime.”

“You’re still working?” you went to the door and he followed.

“Well, I talked to you. That’s what I’m going to do about it.”

You stepped out into the evening din and spun to look at him. You crossed your arms and stood across from him on the pavement.

“Well, unfortunately there’s an age limit down at the centre,” you said, “but I could give you a number for an adult group.”

“No, I don’t wanna talk to a group of sad parents and widowers. Just remind me how pathetic I really am,” he scoffed.

“Do you think that what you’re doing right now is better?”

“Do you have a degree in this?” he wondered, “what are you doing down at that youth centre talking to degenerates?”

“I have a certificate that says I’m good at listening, but no, I couldn’t afford a degree,” you dropped your arms, “but, will you come down? Sit in on a session. Just listen… for Jacob? It helped him, I think, after a while?”

“With the kids?”

“Yeah, with the kids,” you said, “maybe it will help you decide.”

“Decide what?”

“If you’re going to keep doing what you're doing; nothing, or if you’re going to try. Trust me, after a while, just sitting there, ignoring it, it gets old and it won’t get better.”

He looked down and stared at his leather shoe as he ground his toe into the pavement, “is that allowed? Am I allowed to do that?”

“I don’t see why not. I have parents sit in all the time.”

“But I’m not-- not anymore,” he gulped.

“You are,” you patted his arm gently, “you always will be.”

“What time?” he raised his head.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays at four-thirty. We do accept late arrivals. Kids come in and out. Usually hang out til seven before I let them go.”

“I think I can make that work,” he exhaled deeply, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For putting up with me.”

You nodded and gave a bittersweet smile, “I miss Jacob too. I might be little more than a glorified babysitter but it means something to me. The kids… they feel like they’re mine sometimes. At least on those two nights a week.”

“Well…” he peered down the street, “you need a ride?”

You chuckled quietly, “you now, I think this time, I do.”

🖤

Andy was early. He took a chair near the wall as the kids flopped on the low sofas and into the colourful armchairs. A government grant had seen an upgrade in the lounge, although the kitchen needed some work as the cooking classes were still short on supplies. Dark circles darkened his eyes and the hairline wrinkles around them added to the hollow effect. He wasn’t sleeping.

You waited for the room to quiet. You greeted the kids and went through the usual ice breaker; one bad thing, one good thing, and one way they could improve the bad. Many of them were reluctant at first, they resisted what they thought were cheesy and inane exercises but they all came around. They were able to voice things that otherwise would be kept to themselves and they were afforded a respectful and often rapt audience.

When you finished, you kept from naming your own three. You looked at Andy.

“I’m sorry, everyone, I’m so forgetful. This is Andy,” you gestured to him, “he’s sitting in with us today. Andy, why don’t you tell us your bad thing, your good thing, and one thing you can do to improve the bad.”

He looked startled but he stood and cleared his throat. He glanced around at the kids and the shadow left his face. “Well, I lost a file, there were free bagels at work, and… I guess I could try to look again tomorrow.”

“Very good,” you smiled, “alright, my turn at last. My bad thing is I spilled tea on my shirt, my good thing is it’s a dark shirt, and my thing to improve is… wear a bib.” You laughed as you audience stay stone faced, “alright, alright, I’ll just be more careful and not run with hot liquids.”

You sat and started with Danica. She was always the most talkative, that encouraged the other kids. Today was no exception and you had to remind her to save some time for everyone else. Erik was next, then Andre, and Shamea. You almost didn’t notice Andy as he stood and sidled against the wall. Not until he was at the door, he looked back darkly and you saw his chest fall heavily. His nostrils flared and he was gone.

You tried not to show your disappointment, tried not to let the kids notice. They were all caught up in the circle and breaking it was never good. Shamea passed the stuffed bunny to Naima and you focused on her. Maybe it was too soon for Andy, you understood that, but you hoped too that he might have found a piece of Jacob there.

Before the kids left, you handed out the coloured markers and they each scribbled down a few words before a high-five. They passed through the open door in pairs and singles, and you bent to add your own note. You tucked the card into your bag and locked up. Jacob was usually the only one to hang around. Not anymore.

You headed out the front door with a wave to Martha at the front desk and took a gulp of the fresh evening air. There was someone sat on the flat stone at the bottom of the broad rail of the stairs. You recognised Andy as you neared, much too big to be a teen.

“I’m sorry,” he dabbed his nose with his sleeve, “I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay in that room.”

“But you’re still here,” you said.

“I didn’t wanna just leave you hanging but… they all remind me of him,” he stood, “I’m sorry.”

“No more apologies,” you opened your purse and searched, “I had the kids put this together. Actually, it was Milo’s idea. He didn’t know it was you but he wanted to send it in the mail--”

“What?” he took the card and opened it. He turned so he could read it in the yellow light of the street lamp, “oh my god.”

“Is it too much?”

“No, no,” he ran his thumb over the ink, “it’s…” he closed it and tucked it into his jacket, “the only other thing I’ve got is the bill for the caskets. It’s… amazing. Thank you.”

“Not at all. They always surprise me,” you said, “most of the time, in good ways.”

“You need a ride?” he checked his watch.

“I don’t live far,” you waved him off, “but I always appreciate the offer.”

He nodded and frowned, “and if… if I didn’t want to be alone? Would you grab a burger with me? Have you eaten?”

“Not since lunch, I, uh… I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you said.

“You gotta be up early?”

“Nah, not too early.”

“What do you do? I mean, outside of this?” he turned and directed you to his car.

“Data entry,” you sighed, “it’s not very exciting but I work remotely and the pay is decent and I still have time for the kids.”

“It’s a living,” he said as the door locks clicked and you grabbed the handle, “no judgment. Trust me, being a lawyer, it’s really not as glamourous as it seems.”

🖤

Andy’s routine changed. He came around every Thursday and listened. After a few weeks, the kids figured out who he was. They didn’t treat him any differently and even invited him to join in on the teambuilding games you arranged. He wasn’t bad help as you welcomed a few new members from the group home.

That night, you weren’t feeling great. Even the kids hadn’t helped much. You were exhausted and nauseous. You blamed it on the late night shawarma. You said goodbye to the kids and packed up. Andy stacked the chairs without you asking, even when you told him not to.

You leaned heavily on the table and checked your phone before slipping it into your bag. You wiped your forehead and shivered. Some gravol, ginger ale, and sleep would be your indulgence that night.

“You okay?” Andy asked.

“Stomach thing,” you rubbed your middle, “nothing major.”

“You don’t look great,” he said, “well, I don’t mean it like-- are you sure--”

“Oh, gee,” you slid past him and out the door.

You ran to the restroom across the hall and into a stall. You wretched and the acid seared your throat. The bile bubbled in the toilet water and you shuddered. You heaved a few more times and rinsed your mouth in the sink.

Andy was waiting for you in the hall, “let me drive you tonight,” he insisted, “even if it’s just a block away.”

“I can’t even say no,” you grumbled as he handed you your purse.

“What’s wrong? You eat something?”

“I think,” you groaned as he held the door open and the cool air outside chilled the sweat on your neck, “urgh, I hope it’s only that.”

You got to his car and fell heavily into the seat. You slumped against the console as he started the car. He paused as the engine idled and felt your forehead. He nudged you back against the seat and turned his hand to press the back of his fingers to your cheek.

“You got a fever,” he said, “I don’t think it’s food poisoning.”

“Oh, those kids carry bugs like rats,” you muttered, “just take me home, I’ll get over it.”

He pulled out of his spot and you closed your eyes. You leaned against the window, frigid against your forehead and hugged yourself. You dozed off before he even turned out of the lot, the belt keeping you from folding over entirely.

🖤

You woke up between fresh linen. The sunlight was soft in its early hues. It wasn't your bed. You rolled onto your side and your stomach ached from how empty it was. You pushed back the thick duvet, you were sweating. You didn't remember more than the car ride and a few fuzzy glimpses of the bottom of a bucket. 

You were cold again and pulled the blanket back. The door was open and Andy filled it as if he'd heard your grumbles. He stood at the bottom of the bed in a pair of plaid pants and a blue tee.

"Why am I here?" You asked. 

"You fell asleep. You're sick. I couldn't just leave you outside your building," he said, "how are you feeling?"

"Bad," you replied curtly, "I can go," you sat up, "stop by the pharmacy, go hide in my own bed."

"You should stay here," he insisted, "just until the fever breaks."

"Really… ugh," you moaned as your belly clenched, "Andy, I should--"

"Lay down?" He came around and caught your shoulder, "I used to call in sometimes when Jacob was home sick. When he was a lot younger and… I stir up a man cup of noodles."

"You don't have to--"

"It's completely selfish," he interrupted, "it's been a long time since I had someone to take care of or at least it feels like it."

You were light-headed as you tried to stand but he kept you from getting to your feet, "I guess I can stay a little longer."

"Don't act like I don't owe you," he tutted, "now relax. I'll get you some soup. You need something in your system. I got some anti-nausea pills in the cupboard, too."

"Thanks but you don't owe me anything. I'm gonna owe you big."

"Why don't we just call it even then," he backed up, "seeing as that's my bed and my couch, it's really not made for sleeping." He stretched his arms and his shoulders cracked, "especially at my age."

🖤

You stayed another night. You tried to convince Andy to let you take the couch instead but he was a lawyer and rarely lost an argument. It was easier to eat by the evening but you were still dizzy and you couldn't stop yawning. You'd never been so tired.

Despite your uneasiness at overstaying your welcome, you slept more heavily than before. Your guilt didn't keep you awake for long as you sank into a deep sleep and you woke slowly, a murmur escaping your lips as grogginess weighed you down. You were still so very tired but it was already morning.

You stretched and your wrist caught. You winced and tugged at your arm. You sat up in horror as you stared at the metal cuff attached to the hoop drilled into the headboard. You tugged until your arm hurt and your hand throbbed. What the fuck.

"Andy! Andy! What--"

"Shhhhh," Andy hushed you as he entered, "it's okay, you're okay."

"No, I'm not. What did you do?" You pulled again and the metal pinched your skin.

"You're going to hurt yourself," he said calmly.

"Unlock it. Let me go," you struggled as you kicked off the blankets, "Andy, what the fuck?"

"Hey, don't talk like that. It's...nasty."

"I don't understand," you began to pant, "why are you doing this?"

The panic crawled like tendrils up your neck and back. You twisted and pulled but the metal cuff didn't budge. You felt the bed shift and Andy grabbed your shoulder. He forced you down, pinning your other hand beside your head.

"I'm taking care of you," he said, "don't be so ungrateful."

"I can take care of myself. Let me go, please."

"No, you need me," he snarled, "like I need you."

"Andy, you're wrong--"

"Stop!" He covered your mouth, "stop! You don't know what you need. Now be still. Be quiet." He squeezed until your jaw hurt, "don't make this difficult."

He slowly lifted his hand and you didn’t move. You stared at his hand then looked at his face. There was a desperate anger in the depths of his oceanic eyes. He sat back and his jaw clenched as he watched you.

"I'm going to make breakfast. Be good. You need to eat." He backed off the bed and went to the door, "I mean it."

He left you and you listened until pans clinked and clanged in the kitchen below. You folded your thumb against your palm and tried to wiggle free of the cuff. It was too tight. There was only one other way out and you couldn't do it alone.

"HELP! HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE!" You screamed, "someone help me!"

The footsteps hammered up the stairs and Andy stormed in. He grabbed you and clamped his hand over your mouth again.

"Listen, no one can hear you, you got that? Windows are soundproof, but I really don't want to hear it so it's up to you if I gag you."

You blinked and your lip trembled against his hand. Your eyes rounded and you nodded stiffly. He tore his hand away and sighed as he clapped his hands on his legs in frustration.

"Good," he said quietly, "now, let's just hope," he stood and strode to the door, "that the bacon didn't burn."

🖤

You fell asleep again shortly after eating, even with the adrenaline and panic surging through your veins. You woke again in the afternoon. Your limbs were heavy but the fever was gone and your stomach felt better but you were still terribly tired. 

Andy was there. He had a leather file in his lap as he looked over papers and scratched his beard. He sensed your movement and looked over at you.

"Hungry?" He asked, "you slept through lunch."

"No," you smelled your sweat on the duvet, "but… can I have a shower? I haven't...since I got here."

"A shower?" He closed the folder and stood. He set it down and pursed his lips as he thought. "Fifteen minutes," he said as he dug around in his pocket, "I'll be here."

He unlocked the cuff and you rubbed your wrist as you sat up. He stayed close as you rose and stayed between you and the bedroom door as he pointed you to the bathroom.

"I don't have much for you to wear yet but you can take another one of my shirts," he said.

You nodded and closed the door between you. You closed your eyes and pressed yourself to the wind. How was this the same man that you spoke to that day at the cemetery?

🖤

He slept beside you that night. You were on your side, your arm bound again by the cuff with the pillow between it and your head. You were uncomfortable, more so with him against your back. He wore only a pair of boxers. You shied away when he undressed and never looked at him again.

You dozed despite your nerves. You couldn't shake the drowsiness. You just felt more and more tired. When you opened your eyes, his arm was around you. He ran his fingers over your stomach, fingers crawling beneath the baggy tee shirt. You shivered and he nuzzled the back of your neck.

"I was thinking… well, I've been thinking for a while now, how happy we could be," he said, "I'm still young enough to try again, do it right and you… you're young, ready." His hand brushed up to your chest and he cupped your tit, "you're kind, you're caring, you're...beautiful. You’re my second chance."

“Andy,” your voice was brittle as your pulse beat furiously, “what you’re doing, it’s not right. You need to let me go.”

He went rigid and his hand stopped. He unsnaked his arm from around you and the springs coiled as he fell heavily onto his back. In the silence, you could only hear his steady breaths and a low growl.

“No, I’m helping you,” he said, “like you’ve helped me.”

“Andy, please,” you eased onto your back and looked over at him, “this isn’t how you fix this.”

“How do I?” he snarled, “huh? How? You don’t know!” he sat up and glared down at you, “you can’t know.”

“You think hurting me is helping me? That’s what you’re doing.”

“No, no, no,” he bent his legs as he grasped his head and gripped it as if it would crack, “No! I haven’t hurt you. I feed you, I keep you clean, I… I take care of you!”

“Andy,” you reached over shakily and touched his bare shoulder, “this isn’t what I want and I know you don’t want it either. You want someone who really loves you--”

“You love me!” he turned so quickly you yelped. He gripped your jaw tightly as he held himself against you, “you love me,” he pressed his lips to yours and you murmured in surprise, “you love me,” it was a maddened chant as he pulled back, “...love me.”

“And--”

His hand flew up to smother you and he lifted himself over you. His knees pressed to your legs until they parted and his other hand explored your curves through the rumpled cotton. You squeaked and tensed against his touch, your wrist chafing from the cuff.

“Shhh,” he hushed as he pushed the shirt up.

He kept his hand on your mouth as he slid down your body and left a trail of kisses along your torso as he unveiled it. He bunched the tee above your chest and bent to dote on your tits. You shuddered and pushed on his head as you mumbled into his palm.

His fingers tickled along your side and hooked into the side of the drawstring shorts he gave you. He tugged until the string snapped and edged them down as he continued to tend to your chest. You kicked around him and felt his bulge as he leaned into you.

He ripped his hand away and sat up. He grabbed the waist of the shorts and wrenched them down your legs, quickly taking his between them again. You wriggled and batted out at his chest as his thumbs pressed against your hip bones and his hands crept down to knead your thighs.

“I can start again,” he brushed his fingers down your vee and you trembled as they danced along your cunt.

“No, Andy, please, you can still stop--”

“Shhhh, honey,” he pushed between your folds and you gasped, “it’s okay. I’ll still take care of you,” he glided over your cunt and made you twitch, “and the baby.”

He poked along your entrance and you whined helplessly as you reached to the cuff and pulled with both arms. Every muscles in your strained as you tried to break free of the headboard. He pushed a finger inside of you and you cried out.

“Andy, stop, please, no--”

He added another finger and slipped them in and out of you as he purred. You looked at his face and it sent a chill through you. His eyes were dark and clung to the movement of his hand, his brow set and his jaw squared with his intent. He wasn’t the grieving widower, he wasn’t the man lost and lonely, he was a monster.

“That’s it,” he turned his hand and flicked your clit with his thumb, “you want me. I feel it.”

You looked away as your wetness spread to his knuckles and along your folds. He kept his thumb moved as he curled his fingers inside of you and the pressure built as the tip of his touch. You gritted your teeth and shook your head helplessly.

“No,” you whispered, “no, no, no…”

He took his hand away suddenly and you felt empty. He lifted himself on his knees and rolled down his boxers. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t, you only saw the silhouette of his nudity.

He pushed your thighs apart and spread himself over you, his elbow just beside you as he felt around between your bodies. His hot breath grazed your cheek and he kissed it firmly as he angled his tip between your folds. Your thighs clenched around him in a futile act of resistance as he found your entrance.

He pushed inside slowly and brought his other arm up beside you. He forced your head straight and you squeezed your eyes shut. He cradled your head between his hands and his lips brushed yours as he spoke, “open your eyes. Look at me.”

“Andy,” you murmured as he slowly got deeper, “please--”

“Look at me,” he demanded, “look at me!”

Your eyes snapped open and met his stormy blue ones. He bucked his hips and impaled you completely. You exclaimed and grasped his thick bicep in shock, your other hand balled above the cuff. Your legs bent around his thick thighs as you tried to stop him.

“God, you feel so good,” he purred as he began to rock, “don’t I feel good too?”

Your lashes fluttered away the rising tears and you sucked your lip in to keep from making a sound. You could look away as he held your head straight, his hand clamping around your jaw as he other arm bent beneath yours.

The room echoed with the noise of his flesh slapping yours as he sped up, his grunts and groans interlaced with the sickening symphony. You quivered as his pelvis rubbed against yours and stoked the heat in your core. You could not hold back the illicit response of your body as he ravaged it.

Your breath grew heavier and he gulped it down as he kissed you again, forcing his tongue between your lips as he devoured you. The whole bed moved in time with your body and the headboard knocked against the wall as his thrusts came closer and closer together and he buried himself as deep as he could with each tilt of his hips.

He drew his mouth away and pressed his cheek to yours as his muscles tensed and he puffed into the pillow, “this is it, honey. It all starts here.”

“Ah, please…” your voice fizzled and smothered your moan against his shoulder as your body spasmed. Your legs bent around him firmly as you orgasmed and your body arched beneath his desperately.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “that’s it. You take me so well. See… it was meant to… be.”

His breaths grew more rampant with his rhythm. His hand slipped down to cradle your cheek and his thumb stroked your flesh tenderly as he dipped into you over and over. His deep groans grew louder around you. He jerked into you sharply and his motion stuttered. He gripped your hip and held you down as he sheathed himself in your walls. 

He quaked as his hips slowed and he flooded you. He exhaled and as his lungs emptied, the strength left him entirely and he lowered himself over you weakly. His body pressed yours into the mattress, your sweat and his turned sticky as the air settled over you.

He stayed like that for what felt like forever. He moved slowly to lift himself up and he sat back, watching his dick slide out of you. Your thighs shook as your legs splayed around him. You felt his cum leak from you and he dragged his fingers along your cunt and scooped it back into you, coating his fingers in as he pushed them past your entrance once more. He smiled at the wet sounds of your cunt.

“That felt like the one,” he said, “but we can try again...”

He pulled his fingers out of you and admired the slickness that glistened over them. He reached down and gripped his dick, half-soft and spent. He winced as he began to stroke himself and let out stifled moans between his teeth.

“Maybe this time,” he purred as he angled himself inside of you again and lifted your legs against his torso. He bit his lips as he trembled, his cock oversensitive and overworked, “as many times as it takes, honey.”

[homerforsure]

Whumptober No. 5

betrayal / misunderstanding / broken nose

(Hockey AU)

***

He’d always thought the night Jay took the picture would be the worst of it.

Buck’s hands were clutching the rails of Jay’s iron headboard, where Jay had wanted them, where Jay had placed them after stripping Buck of his clothes, saying “Don’t let go.” His slow, sexy, predatory smile was the last thing Buck saw before the silky black blindfold was tied in place. Jay was gone after that, climbing off the bed, telling Buck how good he looked and what he thought he might do and Buck had arched into the words until he was begging to be touched.

“Be patient,” Jay had purred, appeasing Buck with a single finger drawn shiveringly down his thigh. Buck could feel that he’d climbed back onto the bed, but Jay was too far away and he wasn’t teasing; he just wasn’t there. Stretching out longer on the mattress, trying to find him, he’d said, “What’s going on up there?”

Then the flash went off, the bright light cutting through the thin fabric of the blindfold. Jay swore, “Shit. Fuck,” and when Buck let go of the bed with one hand (one hand because maybe he misunderstood, maybe it was fine, maybe he’d laugh and put his hand back and they’d-)to push the tie away, he’d seen Jay, crouched above him with his phone in his hand.

If he’d asked, Buck might even have agreed. He liked posing. He liked having his body appreciated. But Jay’s expression was the alarm of being caught red-handed and Buck knew, knew with a sinking feeling of dread and betrayal, that Jay wasn’t just taking a memento to savor later. He was taking a picture of Rangers center Evan Buckley, naked, smirking, and vulnerable, to use exactly the way those kinds of pictures get used.

Buck forced Jay to delete the photo, made him prove that he’d done it, and then had somehow managed to get himself dressed and down to the street to get a ride without throwing up. His face burned the whole drive home and for half of the night.

And that was the worst of it until five years later. In a new city. When Buck was finally playing the way he’d always known he could. When he was finally earning the respect of his team and the hockey world at large. When he started thinking he might stay. That was when the anonymously authored post was retweeted and reblogged and shared and gleefully discussed on all corners of the hockey internet.

MY WILD NIGHT WITH AN NHL ALL STAR

The Good, the Bad, and the Kinky

His agent’s was the first text he saw when he got done with practice: “Do NOT respond yet. Call me first.”

It had taken another couple messages before Buck realized what he wasn’t supposed to respond to and in the meantime, the texts kept rolling in. Half of them from numbers he didn’t even have saved in his contacts.

“Dude, is that shit true?”

“Are you okay?”

“Do you know who it is?”

“You dog 😜”

“You never told me you were into that 👀”

“Ignore it, Buck.”

“We’re all with you.”

“Fuck that guy.”

“Hey if you need something to take your mind off of it💋💋💋”

“Evan, Mike from the Tribune. If you want to set the record straight, please give me a call.”

From the looks on the faces of his teammates as they tried to pretend they weren’t stealing glances at him, they were getting messages of their own. Hen was the first one to start to approach him with a look of concern, but Buck avoided her, grabbing his bag and sneaking out the door without bothering to hit the stationary bike like usual.

“What the hell did you do to piss this guy off?” Geoff said as soon as he answered Buck’s call. “More importantly, what else does he have on you?”

“Nothing!” Buck answered, nearly merging directly into another car as his hands shook on the steering wheel. “What do I do? How do I fix this?”

“I don’t know, Buckley. None of my other clients get up to shit like this. You need to get yourself a publicist. I’m going to get in touch with Grant and make sure they’re not already shopping you.”

His agent hung up and Buck’s phone continued to buzz and chime all the way back to his apartment.

There were cameras outside which there almost never were. Mostly only hockey fans cared about pictures of hockey players and the press was limited to the arena and their official events. Maybe one or two regular guys who Buck knew by name. It was just his luck that he lived in LA where there were almost more cameras than there were disasters to photograph.

“Buck! Do you know who the author is?”

“Have your teammates seen the post?”

“Are you worried about other former partners coming out with similar stories?”

Buck pushed past them, but the questions followed him inside. His phone didn’t stop. His mentions were a nightmare on every platform. He shut Twitter as soon as he opened it and saw his name in the trending topics. The statements put out by the Kings and Buck’s agent condemning the piece and the interest in it were drowned out by outlet after outlet picking up the post and sharing it out wider and wider.

Can you guess this NHL player by his sexcapades? (Hint: It’s exactly who you think)

Hockey players used to be the humble, hard working gentleman of sports. What happened?

Should the Kings trade Evan Buckley? Can they?

Nash should make Buckley sit for embarrassing the team like this.

Aw, man, don’t do that. Sitting’s a little tough for Buckley right now

🤣

And I thought it couldn’t get worse than the time he fucked that mascot in Carolina

{This post may contain explicit content}

😵‍💫

🤮

Excuse you, Gritty has standards

[98 more posts]

Whether from a latent masochistic streak or just because he didn’t want to look away and find that the story had gotten bigger while he was gone, Buck couldn’t stop refreshing the pages. He read Jay’s words over and over again as his stomach roiled. If it had all been lies, Buck wouldn’t have spent the morning pressed into the corner of his couch, hoodie pulled up over his head like armor. If it had all been lies, he could have made a fiery statement, condemning the mystery author and condemning everyone who thought they had a right to consume and critique another person’s sex life.

There were some lies, of course, but it was true enough that Buck’s heart clenched with it. True enough that he could remember how he felt when it was happening, during the three times they’d been together before the photo. Soft and desired and joyful. There was a part of him that was still exposed to Jay, that always would be, this man with the sharp wit and the sharp smile who got Buck bare, begging and biddable all to make him a joke. As he read the smug asides in the unforgiving narrative, he could hear Jay’s voice in his ear.

The sixth time he read it, there was an addition.

Edit: Ha ha wow this really blew up. Doing an AMA at 6 eastern if you’re looking for more dirty details.

And for the first time, Buck felt the burn of tears in his eyes. Furious. Powerless.

The buzz of his phone started making his skin crawl so he shoved it between the couch cushions and tried not to think about it. He sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around, rocking just a little as he felt panic creeping in.

What else could Jay possibly have to say? Would he make up more and more audacious lies as long as he had an audience? Would an NHL team want to touch Buck when he was done?

Were there more pictures?

It was the fourth night, the night that Buck caught Jay. Not the first night with the blindfold. What if? Buck shuddered, sinking lower, deeper into the couch, folding himself tighter and smaller, trying to crush the mounting, hopeless fear. He was there for a long time.

When the gentle knock hit his door, Buck jumped and then crouched tighter into his ball. He didn’t answer. There was no one he could face right now.

The knock came again.

Then the door opened.

Buck was up like a shot, nearly falling over the coffee table as he whirled around toward the intruder. Eddie stood in the doorway, holding up one empty hand and pulling his key out of the door with the other.

“Just me.”

“What are you doing here?” Buck asked, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie to hide the fact that he’d been digging his nails into his palms for the last hour.

“Well, you took off. And you weren’t answering your phone.”

Hot shame flushed across Buck’s skin. Eddie knew. Eddie had seen the article and the articles about the article and the tweets about the articles and been shouted at by the cameras outside and Buck wanted to sink into the floor.

“Notice you didn’t take the hint.”

The attitude in Buck’s response didn’t faze Eddie at all, “Do I ever?”

And that almost made Buck feel like smiling, because no, no he didn’t. He said, “No. But there’s always a first time.”

Eddie came a little further into the apartment and Buck felt crowded. Eddie always seemed to take up so much space around him. Maybe it was just that Buck felt his presence most strongly than anyone else’s. Especially when he was like this: arms crossed, focused, not letting Buck wiggle out of a conversation that he didn’t want to have.

This time was no exception. When Buck turned and went back to the couch, compulsively refreshing the comments on Jay’s post again as he went, Eddie followed right after him.

“I came by to make sure you were okay,” he said and Buck flinched again, hating that Eddie knew. Hating that the team knew.

“I’m fine,” he answered, keeping his eyes down and away from Eddie. “Coach is going to rip me a new one tomorrow, but my agent hasn’t called me to tell me I’m being traded so yet so I guess that’s-”

“Who the fuck said you were being traded?” His voice was loud enough that Buck looked up, surprised to see the intensity of anger in Eddie’s face.

“THN. NHL Network did a round table on it too, but they didn’t think anyone would take me. Oh, then Kirk Davis did a radio interview.”

Everyone had picked up those soundbites. Even through the heavily bleeped broadcast, the future hall-of-famer’s opinion on Buck had been crystal clear. At least that wasn’t new information for Buck. Davis had all but refused to shake Buck’s hand when he first joined the Predators and was a big part of why his tenure there had only lasted until the trade deadline.

“Kirk Davis is a fucking asshole. There’s a reason they never made him captain.”

“He’s not the only one who said it.”

“Then he’s not the only fucking asshole out there.” When he didn’t respond, Eddie came around the couch to stand face to face with him, noticing the open comments page as he did. “Christ, have you been reading that shit all day?”

Somehow it made Buck laugh. “It’s the same shit I’ve been reading for 8 years. Since I got drafted. Buckley’s a distraction to his team. Buckley’s an embarrassment to the game of hockey. Buckley cares more about getting laid and partying than he does about winning. It’s guys like Buckley that hurt the NHL.”

His voice pitched up as he recited the familiar accusations, staring somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder because Eddie already knew all this about him. Eddie was the opposite of Buck in every way. He would never make himself the center of attention. He’d never do anything to make his teammates ashamed to play with him. He’d never be so stupid as to go home with a guy like Jay.

“Buckley’s finally getting what he deserves.” Buck whispered.

“Look at me,” Eddie said. When Buck couldn’t, Eddie reached out, setting a light hand on his shoulder that got tighter when Buck tried to shrug out of the hold. “Hey. Look at me.”

He moved his head into the space where Buck was staring into the middle distance and waited. Until Buck couldn’t help but flick his gaze to meet Eddie’s. Once he did, he found a furious compassion that startled him.

“You don’t deserve this, Buck. You did nothing to deserve this. It is not your fault. Nobody in our room thinks it is. Bobby doesn’t think it is.”

Buck shuddered under the weight of the words. He wanted to pull himself free and he wanted to step in closer, “My agent told me I should own it. Post a couple thirst traps and a middle finger on instagram and just wave it off like another classic Evan Buckley weekend.”

There was a time when he would have. Times when he had. But this wasn’t a ridiculous paparazzi photo outside a bar, it was… It was private. It hurt.

As if reading his mind, Eddie said, “That’s not what this is. Fire him if he wants to make you pretend this is okay.”

“I just keep thinking if I was anyone else. If I was someone good, they’d all go after him and not me. I didn’t even do anything to him, Eddie. I didn’t-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Eddie tugged him forward and his arms were tight around his back. Buck should have tried to fight it, but he couldn’t help but fall against his chest and cling on. “You are someone good,” Eddie said, making Buck’s breath hitch. “And if you weren’t, it wouldn’t matter. It’s wrong. They’re wrong.”

“I shouldn’t have trusted him,” Buck confessed into the soft fabric of Eddie’s shirt. “I was so stupid back then. I just wanted- I wanted him to like me. And I’m still- It still hurts that he didn’t. How fucked up is that? He did this. And I still just wish he liked me.”

One of Eddie’s hands moved up to cradle the back of Buck’s head. They were swaying, just a little, Eddie rocking them gently. “I know,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

He managed to keep from crying, but Buck couldn’t stop his breath from coming out in soft, stuttering gasps. Couldn’t keep his fingers from digging into Eddie’s back. If he thought about it, he could imagine this post too (Evan Buckley cried like a baby on my shoulder AMA), but Eddie would never do that. The warm heat of him against Buck’s chest was like a blanket hiding him from the world. It was the most vulnerable he’d been all day and the most sheltered.

Eddie didn’t let go until Buck pulled back and even then he didn’t go far, “Have you eaten since practice?”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to without throwing up,” Buck said honestly.

“Do you want to order something from-”

The timer on Buck’s laptop shrieked and they both jumped. Eddie recovered quickly, but Buck’s heart leapt into his throat. He’d almost forgotten. How could he have forgotten? Pulling away from Eddie, he turned off the timer and refreshed the post, looking for the link he knew would be there.

“Come on, Buck, really?”

Eddie reached out to slam the laptop closed, but Buck shoved his hand in the way. “I have to, Eddie. He’s doing an AMA. I have to-”

“I’m not going to let you torture yourself reading what a bunch of sick assholes have to say, Buck. No way.”

“I have to.”

“No, you-”

“Yes, I do!” He shouted it, standing up to look Eddie in the eye. “I have to read it. I have to see it now because if- if- if I wait and it gets reposted- I have to know if he has- I have to-”

“Buck,” Eddie said, putting his hands on Buck’s arms, trying to rub calmness back into him even as Buck’s heart-rate accelerated. “What does he have? What could be worse than what he already-”

“Pictures,” Buck yelled. “I have to know if he has pictures.”

A dark, dark look came over Eddie’s face and he stopped rubbing Buck’s arms to squeeze instead. “You think he has pictures?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Buck whimpered. He saw himself as if from above, stretched out long and lewd against Jay’s sheets. He imagined ten thousand other people seeing it. “He took- I caught him taking one. Once. But I don't know if it was the only one. I don’t- I can’t let them get out. If he has them, I have to know. I have to report the post. I have to-”

“No,” Eddie said.

“Yes, Eddie. I have-”

“I hear you. Okay? I hear you, but I’m not letting you do that. I’m not letting you put any more of that garbage in your head.”

“Eddie.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll report every goddamn post.” Lifting one hand, Eddie stroked a thumb softly along Buck’s hairline. “Let me do it. Let me protect you.”

Buck swallowed hard, fear and relief and longing fighting for control of the tears that were building up again. He didn’t want Eddie to see any of that. He didn’t want Jay’s words in Eddie’s head. But Buck really really didn’t want them in his own. He wanted someone to protect him. “Thank you,” he said, falling forward again to rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” Eddie replied, rubbing his hands firmly up Buck’s back.

Eddie wouldn’t let Buck sit on the couch while he monitored the thread. He fished Buck’s phone out of the couch and made him answer the important messages. From Maddie. From Bobby. From Hen and Chimney. Then he’d told him to order food from the Lebanese place they always ordered from when Eddie came over, asking for extra of the pickled turnips. All the while, Eddie’s fingers slammed onto the keyboard, that sound the only reaction he gave to any of the posts.

It should have been unbearable, letting Eddie comb through the messages. Even without seeing them, Buck knew what they were like. He blocked people every week for the same kind of thing. But Eddie had a defense against them that Buck never had: he didn’t believe they were true. Not even a little bit. He didn’t believe there was a chance that Buck was getting what he deserved for being a show off, for never being a points leader, for being open and soft hearted, for being himself. Eddie believed Buck deserved to be protected and he was ruthless about it.

“No pictures,” he said, a while later, when Jay had finally stopped replying to every comment on the page. “And the rest of it is… well. It’s nothing new.”

“Really?”

“Really. I think it’s done.”

Eddie closed the laptop as if by making that gesture of finality, he could make the words true. Buck, allowed back on his own couch, let himself believe it too. Let himself lean into the safety of Eddie’s arm over his shoulders, breathing in a deep sigh of relief as they caught the Canucks game.

The next morning, Jay’s story was hardly anywhere to be seen. It was replaced. By an essay in The Players’ Tribune. It excoriated Jay. It called out Kirk Davis by name and hundreds of online posters by their bad intentions. It praised Buck’s grace, tenacity, and backhand shot and it demanded respect and compassion and privacy from anyone who called themselves a hockey fan. And it wasn’t anonymous.

[auroracalisto]

she will be loved, part two

requested by @kpopgirlbtssvt​: Omggg would it be okay if I send in a request for a part two for “She will be loved”?🥰 It’s soooo cute and I love rereading it because it makes me so happy!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🤧🥰💜💜It’s so softttt

pairing(s): adoptive! dad! elijah x child! female! reader, family! mikaelsons x reader

word count: 1.3k words

warnings: reader has nightmares, written in third person, child reader

author’s notes: okok so i loved writing this, first of all.  considering turning this into a series because i could do so much with this.  that’s kind of why it’s an open ended sort of thing (if you read, it makes sense, i promise).  also writing children is so fun.  like.  i have always been around children bc i’m the oldest grandchild and i also have like,,, five younger siblings.  i just,,, it’s fun to put what i know into writing and it’s really easy for me to describe how a child could act because of how familiar i am with them.  i feel like that’s another reason i like writing this so much is because i am familiar with how they act omg,,, anway enough rambling and if you read all of this, kudos to you, because i probably wouldn’t have.  thanks for the request and be sure to look out for more!!!

part one

"That little," Kol took in a deep breath, closing his eyes.  He sat down on the couch, composing himself.  

Elijah looked over at him, smirking.  "What's wrong, this time?"

"Nothing is wrong," Kol cleared his throat.  "I just... cannot find her, for the life of me."

Elijah's eyes narrowed.  

"Hide-and-seek," he quickly spoke, standing back up.  

"Yes.  And you're a vampire.  You should easily be able to find her."

"Unless," Rebekah said, walking through the room with a laugh.  "Klaus found her first and took her to a better hiding spot."

"Is that really what happened?"

Rebekah shrugged, watching Kol groan and vampire speed off to find little [Your name] and his pain in the ass brother.  

REbekah sat down across from Elijah and she smiled at him as she did.  "How are you?"

Elijah looked at her and rose an eyebrow.  

"With [Your name].  I know how much of a handful children can be."

"Right," Elijah sighed softly.  He sat down the book that he had been reading and he began to frown.  "Her dreams are getting worse."

"Her dreams?  Did you not use compulsion on her?"

"We did.  Klaus and I both did.  Kol tried, as well.  But  it just wears off after a couple of days and the dreams are worse than before."

"Has she been able to tell you what they were about?"

"You've been around [Your name], yes?  She does not often wish to speak much of her dreams.  She'll talk about everything else," he chuckled softly.  He quickly moved to sit up as he heard [Your name] laugh and run through the hallway.  

At this point, Kol wasn't using his vampire speed.  In fact, he was taking his time, taunting that he was going to catch her.  

[Your name] ran into the sitting room, rushing over to Elijah, giggling the entire time.  "Daddy's base!" she quickly exclaimed, climbing onto Elijah's lap.  

Elijah let out a soft laugh and he wrapped his arms around the small girl as Kol came over, his eyes narrowed at [Your name].  He points to his eyes, before pointing right at her.  

"I'm watching you.  As soon as you get up, I'll get you."

"No!" she yelped, laughing as she hugged onto Elijah.  

Kol rolled his eyes before he left the room, leaving Rebekah and Elijah there with [Your name].  Elijah was quiet as he listened to [Your name]'s soft breathing.  

"[Your name]," he softly said, gently shaking her awake.  "Don't go to sleep yet, it's only seven—"

His wishes were drowned out by [Your name] getting comfortable in Elijah's arms.  She was sound asleep in the matter of minutes.  The nightmares of that evening had yet to plague her little mind.  

Elijah looked over at Rebekah with a frown.  "I hate to say this.  But I wonder if we will have to have a witch's help with her dreams."

Rebekah pursed her lips.  "That Bennett witch owes me a favor.  Do you think she will help?"

"And have more people know about [Your name]?  No.  They will not be using her against me or any of us."

"Then I guess we will have to see what else would work."

Elijah frowned but he nodded.  He knew that she was right.  Elijah looked down at the little girl asleep in his arms.  

"I'm going to go put her in bed.  Hopefully, she doesn't sleep too long.  Klaus's last fiasco completely wrecked her schedule."

Rebekah couldn't help but laugh.  "Maybe Klaus should be in charge of fixing it for you since he's the one who ruined it."

Elijah shrugged and stood up, cradling [Your name] in his arms.  He carried her into her bedroom and laid her down in her full sized bed.  [Your name]'s little eyes quickly opened and she looked up at Elijah with wide eyes.  

"Stay," she quickly said, her little voice was barely louder than the clock that ticked away on her wall.  

Elijah frowned softly and he nodded, laying down beside his daughter.  He pulled her into his chest and listened to her once again fall asleep.  

—

Elijah didn't know when he fell asleep, but he knew it had to have been shortly after [Your name] did.  She was out of bed when he woke.  Her clothes from the day before were tossed in her little clothes hamper, but she had made a mess picking out her new outfit for the day.  

Elijah left his daughter's room, searching for her.  

He heard laughter coming from the kitchen and he followed the noise, seeing Klaus literally throwing pancake batter in [Your name]'s direction.  

"What—"

"—stay out of this, brother," Klaus said, glaring in the child's direction.  "She is the one who started this—"

"—started what?"

"She told me I was ugly."

Elijah pursed his lips for a moment, clearly holding back a laugh.  "What?"

"She looked at me and said, Klaus, you're ugly."

"I did not!" [Your name] exclaimed from where she hid behind the island.  

Klaus looked at Elijah, and then placed his hands on his hips like an angry Karen.  

Elijah rolled his eyes and he sighed, walking over to where the little girl sat. "[Your name], did you tell Klaus he was ugly?"

[Your name] quickly shook her head.  

"Don't lie to me."

Her eyes widened and she looked up at Elijah.  Her breathing picked up and the tears immediately began to form.  "What?  I am not lying, daddy..."

Elijah continued to frown at her, prompting the child to cry.  She quickly hugged onto Elijah, shaking her head.  

"I'm sorry, daddy, I didn't—"

Elijah gently rubbed her back.  "If you did, I just need you to be honest, [Your name].  Calling someone names isn't a nice thing to do.  You're a good girl, aren't you?  So why would you call your uncle something bad?"

"I'm sorry," [Your name] cried, looking up at Elijah with tearful eyes.  

"You don't need to tell me sorry.  You need to say sorry to Klaus."

Her eyes widened a bit and she quickly nodded, coming out from behind the island.  She looked up at Klaus, her little face covered with tears.  If she continued to cry, there's no doubt that snot would cover her face as well.  

Klaus frowned as he watched her.  

"I'm sorry..."

Klaus's features softened and he bent down in front of her.  

"Sorry for what?" Elijah asked from behind them.  

"Sorry for calling you names..."

"It's alright, [Your name].  Just... don't do it again, okay?"

[Your name] nodded and quickly calmed herself down, going to hug Klaus.  Klaus sighed and hugged her back, lifting her as he did so.  He sat her down on the counter by the sink.  He grabbed a kitchen towel and gently cleaned up her messy face.  

"These pancakes aren't going to cook themselves, now are they?"

[Your name] watched Klaus with big eyes as she shook her head.  

Klaus smiled.  

Elijah watched as Klaus helped [Your name] carefully stir the rest of the batter before Klaus made the pancakes his daughter so desperately wanted (according to [Your name], not to Elijah).  

Elijah didn't realize how much would go in to being a parent.  However, he knew that she was learning.  Her little heart and her little head was figuring out how to do things as she went.  It reminded him of his family when they were all young.  

Elijah sat down on a stool as he watched his daughter.  

The nightmares that plagued her were truly something for concern.  But she didn't wake up crying the night before.  He was hoping that it was simply because of a traumatic past that he had yet to figure out.  But until then, he would be keeping a watchful eye over her, and he knew his family, Klaus included, would keep their own eyes on the little girl.  

part three

[dumdumsun]

Forever and Never

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this series ❤️ I’ve had so much fun writing this and am very proud of and excited for it, I can’t wait to see how people react to this. Um I know there are plenty of warnings for a first chapter, but I promise it’s not as depressing as it sounds. It’s just that this story can deal with heavy stuff sometimes, so I just wanna let you know that. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, death, sexual assault and mental illness

Word Count: 3194

—————————————

One: Hi, My Name Is

“So, what was your time in Pennsylvania like?”

“Uh… I’d have to say it was the best… and worst time of my life.”

“Best and worst, huh? Would you like to elaborate?”

“Well, I, uh… I mean, I don’t really know how to, like… explain it. It’s a lot. I don’t even know where to begin… Or how I would even word it or anything.”

“Well, you told me you like television and movies, right? You know those shows and movies where the main character tells the plot as, like, their life story? Maybe you could try that.”

“You aren’t… You aren’t serious, are you?”

“You’ll know when I’m joking, trust me.”

“Oh… Okay, then. Well, um…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi? My name is… (Y/N)? This is my life story, I guess.

So, if we’re going to talk about my life in Pennsylvania, we’re going to have to start with my life in Kansas, first. I had two loving parents that soon turned into one at the too-young age of nine years, when my mom died. I remember her as one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known. She had this way about her that was so carefree, yet she gave a shit about everything. You could never pin a thought to her because she never let you in on what was bouncing around in her head. She was stubborn and patient and lively. I miss her so much. I don’t usually think about her unless it’s a particularly hectic day, which I then resort to talking to the ring I wear on my left pinky finger at all times. Wasn’t anything special, just some cheap ring with a little emerald inside she found at a thrift store. It used to be hers and she’d wear it on the exact same finger. My dad said she’d want me to have it.

My dad is my favorite person. He isn’t the most… present, though. His mind is never set in one place, always racing with hundreds of unrelated thoughts. It’s why when you finally drag him back into reality, he can’t repeat a single sentence spoken to him. Regardless, he’s all I had for a long time. I never really learned what he does for a living, but I just know that it forces him to leave town sometimes. Well, more like all the time. Before my mom died, it was easy for him to leave for weeks on end, but when he became my only guardian, he didn’t really know what to do with me. It was like he completely forgot how to take care of a child, his child. When I turned twelve, that was when he started travelling again. I would then be home by myself for a month to eight weeks. In these times, I had no choice but to learn to cook for myself, go grocery shopping and housekeep. I became pretty independent at a young age. It wasn’t like Dad left me totally alone, though. He would call every two or three days and he sent me two hundred dollars every two weeks. Like I said, I don’t know what my dad did, but he was definitely getting paid. At the end of eighth grade, Dad had a particularly long trip to go on, so he sent me to Pennsylvania, where his sister lived.

Pennsylvania was partially the best part of my life because of my family. My Aunt Pam was like a second mother to me. She was never able to have another child after my cousin Jacob and she’s always wanted a daughter of her own, so that’s what I was to her. The daughter she could never have. I’d often find her staring at me with a bittersweet smile on her face, watching my every move with a sense of pride, but when I’d ask her what was wrong she’d only brush it off as her admiring me. My Uncle David didn’t necessarily view me as a daughter, but he certainly treated me like one. When he wanted to spend time with Jacob, he included me as well. We’d usually go on drives around the town, but I always fell asleep to the soft and serene music that filled the car from the radio. On the weekends, we would head down by the lake and spend hours learning to fish.

I hated it, but I couldn’t complain. It gave me a sense of certainty to live with a father figure who didn’t leave me alone every two or three months.

Jacob was like a brother to me. He’s a year older than me, which, to him, meant that he had to protect me at all costs. I always assumed it was because he always wanted a younger sibling, and I was the closest he was ever going to get to that. I always felt as though I’d never be able to equal Jacob on an intellectual level because he practically had the IQ of Albert Einstein himself. I felt inferior to him until I found out how much of a joy he really was. On the weekends, he would beg me to accompany him in a movie marathon. I learned that Jacob was a huge fan of Tim Burton (his favorite was Beetlejuice). He’s the only cousin I’ve ever known. Mom and Dad didn’t like each other’s families, so I never met anyone besides this little family. Moving in with them meant that they’d have this huge burden on them.

Yes, I almost forgot to mention that I struggle with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or OCD. It just means that my mind is flooded with these crazy and unnecessary thoughts and so my behavior is affected by them. For example, if I were to blink and felt I put more pressure on my left eye than my right, I would have to repeatedly wink with my right eye until they felt balanced. Sometimes I can’t enter a room until I have inhaled eight times. If I scratch an itch on my left knee, I have to scratch the right one in the exact same place. At the sink, even if I don’t use both knobs, I have to hold both in my hands. And when I turn them off, I often have to check about four times before I am certain they’re turned off all the way. I know, it sounds tiring. Just imagine being on my end, having it be a part of who you are. I can’t do anything to stop it, I wish I could. I was always afraid to make friends because of this. If I couldn’t be balanced, I’d freeze, and I mean actually stop whatever I’m doing and stand still, until my body felt as if I were balanced once again. Who wouldn’t make fun of me for this?

Apparently, no one gave a shit about it. After moving to Pennsylvania, I made quite a name for myself at school. Literally. My name was Zip. I have no fucking clue how that ridiculous name came to be, but that’s what I went by day after day. One could say I was considered popular, but it wasn’t like I actually spoke to anyone. When it came to extracurriculars, I only participated in theatre. I never was part of the cast, just the stage manager. Secretly, I wanted so badly to audition and be a part of the magic they created on that stage. Not to boast or anything, but I had the talent and potential to be a starring role. But I could never bring myself to break out of my shell. Nonetheless, being stage manager still got me quite the attention. Everyone was always so nice to me, so I felt a little bad for not considering any of them as friends. That was until I met Dina.

Dina was new to our school sophomore year. She had this sort of light to her that attracted the pesky moths that were our dull and boring school body. We had the same social status in school. People liked our personalities, so we were well-liked and accepted without doing much to prove ourselves worthy. She was sweet and compassionate and so fun. I didn’t mean to become her friend, but she was so welcoming, despite being the newcomer. We became close friends, but not best friends. We already had people filling those roles.

Dina’s best friend was Sydney Novak. Sydney moved to Brownsville around the same time as Dina, so the two became best friends quickly, but Sydney wasn’t very popular at all. She was shy and introverted, but I thought she was nice enough. I liked her and thought she was a pretty cool person. We weren’t necessarily friends, we were just well acquainted simply because we were both close with Dina. The transitive property, if you would. I just wish we could’ve talked more, our relationship was pretty much nonexistent.

Speaking of nonexistent relationships, let’s talk about Richard Berry. I honestly don’t want to even think about him, but he played a role in my life that was too vital to just offhandedly mention. For some odd reason, Ricky Berry was absolutely in love with me. It was so obvious to everyone except for me. Sophomore year, he expressed his love through the most arrogant and cheesiest of pick-up lines and compliments. I wasn’t so easily won over, if you could guess. I tried being good friends with him, but he’d always fuck it up when he tried to initiate intimacy. I didn’t want to hold hands with him in the halls or receive “friendly” cheek kisses. I’m not what you would call affectionate, especially towards people I’m not close to. It’s just never been comfortable for me. Junior year, everyone around me was buzzing with excitement when they heard Ricky was going to ask me to be his girlfriend. The cheerleaders, who got to know him through his high school football career, constantly pestered me with reasons as to why I would be so lucky to date The Richard Berry. Granted, he became less of a dick junior year, so I thought, Why not?, and accepted. Being in a relationship with Ricky was the most one-sided… anything I had ever been a part of. He was undeniably enamored with me, but I couldn’t find it in myself to reciprocate those feelings. He would show me off to his family and friends like a trophy, but if someone asked me if I had a boyfriend I’d go, “I mean, yeah. I guess”, so not a very healthy relationship. It also didn’t help that Ricky knew nothing about boundaries.

One night, we were in his bedroom, studying for a science test. Ricky wasn’t focused at all and kept trying to kiss and cuddle with me. I let him for awhile, but then he took my book from me and set it on the ground beside his bed. He suggested we have sex right then and there. Now, I was never a prude and definitely didn’t wait to have sex for the first time, but I never wanted Ricky to be my first. He hadn’t earned enough of my trust to even touch me suggestively. So, of course I refused. Ricky only took that as me teasing him, so he advanced, nearly forcing himself on me. Using all my might, I shoved him off of the bed. He stood to his feet, utterly confused, but I only gathered my things and left his house. He tried following after me, but I ignored him until he turned and went back into his home. The next day at school, he was holding me and kissing me and showing me off to everyone like he always did. As if nothing happened between us the night before. It was difficult to do, since he was so inconsiderate, but I managed to break up with him. He tried to deny that we were Splitsville for about a week, but everyone caught wind of our break-up. Once everyone knew about it, it became true for him. I never really felt comfortable with being intimate or open with guys after that.

Besides with Stanley Barber, of course. Stan was my best friend in the entire world. I told only my deepest, darkest secrets to him. And he told me his. The only things we really had in common were our lack of mothers and our hideous bacne. Stan lived a few houses down and was eager to get to know me a week after I moved in. I’d never met anyone in my life like Stan. He was so awkward, but loveable. I don’t know, I guess he reminded me of my mom. The way he didn’t care, but he so clearly did. Whenever I wanted to talk about something that was difficult to voice, we’d smoke to ease the tension. Of course, this wasn’t how we always communicated. Despite his nervous stuttering, he was easy to open up to. Stan provided a sort of security in my life. He was never going to leave me and that put me at ease when hanging out with him, which we did regularly. I don’t know when exactly I developed a crush on him, but I never wanted it to surface in our bond. He was to never know. It was just a stupid crush, right? He was a guy who wasn’t family and was so unbelievably caring towards me. It was bound to happen, but that didn’t mean he had to be aware of it. Though, it was a little hard to keep such a secret when we’d both made out twice already. The first time was while I was dating Ricky, the kiss was very awkward and ended after about a minute and a half. The second kiss was just half a week after my breakup. That time, we’d both known what we were doing. And I may be a little biased, but you couldn’t have even thought to fake the passion in that makeout session. We never talked about either of those kisses and remained friends both times. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that we didn’t become anything more afterwards. It was for the best, though, because two weeks before spring break, my dad returned from his job in Georgia and moved me to Kansas again. The move was so abrupt that I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to anyone besides my family.

My life in Kansas for the second time was something I’d never want to experience ever again. Since it was a little late in the year, I finished junior year online. For some unexplained reason, my dad had us get new phones and new numbers, so I lost all contact with my friends. I had no one to talk to and it wasn’t like my dad paid much attention to me. I remember spending every waking moment with him when I was younger, talking or playing games or watching television. It used to be so fun being his daughter, but when we moved back to Kansas, I just felt like this huge burden in his life. Our relationship was strained and he clearly had other priorities in his life. Like whatever he left back in Georgia. I’d see his phone ring and the same number from that state would pop up before he’d leave the room and privately talk with whoever. It wasn’t the secrecy that was off-putting to me, it was the fact that it was so much more important to him. Once again, I was ignored by the one person in my life I wanted to spend the most time with. So, you can imagine the joy I felt when Dad had to go back to Georgia for work. I had been attending public school for my senior year and left not even a full month in. It didn’t bother me, I had no friends and nothing to leave behind. Mid-September was when I moved back to Brownsville with Aunt Pam. Everyone accepted me right back in. Especially my classmates. As I walked the halls I heard whispers like,

“Oh, my god, is that Zip?”

“Zip’s back! Where’d she even go?”

“I thought she died.”

The only person I really wanted to notice me was Stan. I missed him so much, I even got into his favorite band to have something to remember him by. I remember the day I got back to my aunt’s house. Jacob had picked me up from the airport and was driving me to the house. He was attending community college, but was still living with his parents. As we drove, he tapped his index fingers rhythmically to the shitty pop music that played on the radio. “So, what are you excited about for senior year?”

“Not much, I just missed Dina and Stan. Theatre, too. I wonder how they’ve been doing without me.” I chuckled. Jacob huffed in amusement.

“But you didn’t miss Ricky?”

“Fuck, Jake, you know I didn’t miss him for a second.” I frowned, waving my hand in dismissal. My cousin tauntingly laughed at me. Had he actually known about what happened between Ricky and I, he wouldn’t have teased me. In fact, Ricky wouldn’t even be alive that day if Jacob found out. No one knew about the incident, not even Stan.

Pulling up in front of the house, we got out of the car and headed to the trunk to pull out my bags. I tried carrying them in, but Jacob insisted that he do all the heavy lifting and simply asked me to carry my backpack and close the trunk. I did what little I was asked of and headed to the front door to greet my aunt and uncle inside, but stopped. In the corner of my eye, I saw movement from the Barber residence. Turning, my eyes locked on Stanley, who was frozen beside his car. He was wearing his work uniform and staring at me with the most bewildered expression on his face. It was like he thought himself to be hallucinating my existence. Smiling, I simply waved at him before walking back inside. When he got home from work that night, he headed over to my house and knocked on the door. I answered with a grin on my face. “Stan!”

“If it isn’t the famous Zip, showing back up in my life.”

“Ugh, do not call me that.” I rolled my eyes playfully before bringing him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin at the top of my head. I would’ve stayed there all night if I could’ve. When Stanley pulled away, my heart hollowed and a pit formed within my stomach. I felt unfinished, unbalanced. And I hate imbalance. He asked if I wanted to hang out and I accepted his offer. All we did was lay on his floor, listen to music and get high, but in that moment, that’s all I needed.

Bloodwitch, a joint, and Stan laying by my side.

—————————————

Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit

[marinetteplztakeabreak]

okay now that we’re in the middle of a hiatus and the fandom is mostly calmed down

I’m one of the very few people who’s actually hoping for a Lila redemption arc? I don’t want her to be friends with Adrien or Marinette or anyone she’s really really hurt, but she is still like 14 and we don’t know her full story and I honestly want to see her grow and be a person and make some actual friends and get some hobbies. Again, I think she’s burned the bridge with a few characters, but that doesn’t mean she can’t ever be friends with anyone else

and anyway, my ideal takedown/ redemption arc for Lila is one where she unknowingly lies about having several disabilities that other students in the class actually do have

BUT I don’t want it in a “oh actually, Lila, you dumb fool, I have real medically diagnosed tinnitus, so I know that’s not how it works, haha everyone look at Lila the stupid liar” kind of way

I want them to be like stupid levels of understanding and try to bond with her

(detailed explanation of my Lila arc under the cut, obviously don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with the idea of Lila being redeemed)

Lila is like “oh... actually... I can’t participate in the PE final... I have scoliosis... that I just found out about right now” and Juleka is like “oh! I have scoliosis too!” and Lila is panicking because she’s about to be called a fraud, but instead Juleka just happily sits with her for the entire PE final and rambles about stuff and is super happy to have a bench buddy

Alix mentions that she has tinnitus and Lila is like “wait what? why aren’t you in front of the class?” and Alix is like “oh, for me it’s kind of a waves thing? on good days, I can hear her from anywhere in the classroom, and on bad days, nothing can really help me hear? so Ms. Bustier just gives me lecture notes that I can read and it works for me.” And Lila is completely expecting to be called a fraud but Alix is just like “it’s super cool that it does help you, though! everyone’s different! If you ever want to compare notes about what helps, you can text me!”

Lila starts to say the beginning of a well practiced and overly researched speech about how she can’t go on a field trip because she has a super rare medical condition and Max just pulls her aside and is like “hey, I know it can be scary and you feel like you have to justify yourself, but you really don’t have to give super personal information all the time. It’s totally fine if you are comfortable, but really, I know from personal experience that Ms Bustier and this class are super understanding. You can just say ‘personal reasons’ or something and we’ll all leave you alone. You’re allowed to have privacy.” and Lila is like “huh”

this is getting long but basically, eventually she talks to someone in the class with ADHD or anxiety, I’m going to say Alya for now, so she literally catches Lila lying about knowing some celebrity, and instead of being angry or judgemental she’e super discreet about it, she pulls her aside like “hey, I know it feels hard to make friends, but I promise you, people do think you’re interesting as you are, and we care more about you than the people you know.” and she doesn’t even call Lila out for lying? she’s literally just like “u dont have to know celebrities”

and then Lila actually finds out that there’s at least one actual compulsive liar in the class. And, if you didn’t know, Lila’s not an actual compulsive liar, and I’m not going to get into a rant about that now but... She lies on purpose, and tells planned lies with an agenda, whereas compulsive liars don’t usually plan to lie or have a reason for lying. So anyway, Lila gets actually caught lying, and someone, lets just say Nino for the sake of picking a character, is like “hey i know its hard but you do still have to apologize, even if you did your best, you still messed up and you’ve got to own up to it. I believe you that you’re trying to be better but you can’t just use mental illness as an excuse.” and Lila pulls out the fake tears and is like “you don’t understand-” and Nino is (not in a rude way, just trying to be kind) like “I can’t understand you exactly, no, but I literally did have a problem with compulsive lying and I have a therapist, so if you want to talk about it I probably understand more than you know” and Lila is like “oh.”

and anyway, Lila’s arc doesn’t come through someone she’s harassed trying to defend her, and it doesn’t come from her being traumatized into being nice, it just comes from her classmates treating her like a human person, and doing their best to understand her while also actually finding ways to make things accessible to her so she stops being able to get out of things. And then it turns to “hey Lila, just so you know, you don’t HAVE to give explanations for not wanting to go places, you can just SAY if you’re uncomfortable.” and she starts getting called out on it a little bit more, but in a friendly way. Her classmates are just like “Lila please just tell us what you want, I don’t need your medical history, I’m not going to do a background check, just, say you want to borrow a jacket and I’ll let you borrow it. I literally have an extra hoodie”

But simultaneously, everyone with a disability “in common” with her starts latching on to her and opening up, and they actually hold her accountable for listening to their needs. And Lila, who already has the mindset of “oh u are legally required to help Disabled Person or everyone will hate you,” which is literally the basis of half of her plans, is now surrounded by classmates who are asking for her help with reading things because they’re dyslexic, or asking her to grab a textbook from across the room, and asking her if she has any heating pads, and, well, Mylene actually bought her some heating pads when she was faking having cramps earlier, so she might as well lend those out so that she can get more credit with her classmates

And it’s not because she *cares* obviously, she’s just doing it to get them to rely on her, and to get on their good side

and then she’s invited to join the disabled students activism club, and it would look suspicious if she didn’t join, so she agrees, and then whoops, she is now working to do actual charity work-- because it’s really nice to have such solid evidence for her claims, and some charity work that she can actually point to solid evidence for if she ever gets called out-- and honestly it is pretty stupid that its so hard to get accommodations on tests for students with anxiety, because aren’t those the students who are the most afraid to talk to the teachers-- not that Lila cares. And it’s super dumb that no one even knows proper etiquette for helping people in wheelchairs,, and people keep Leaving Things in the Hallways that make it too narrow, and-- Lila doesn’t care at all though, and she definitely doesn’t care about her “friends” in the club because they’re not her friends, and she totally does not cry when she finds out that most of them are literally self-diagnosed, and then it turns out that Mylene was actually wrong, and she probably doesn’t have Lyme disease like she thought, and no one judges her or treats her any different? they’re all just like “oh thats great! glad you could keep getting new information!”

and Lila realizes that literally no one will be mad if it turns out she doesn’t have any disabilities. Except also, she’s starting to become more and more sure that she Does have several things wrong with her, because apparently it’s Not Normal to feel constantly on guard when she’s around other people, and apparently it’s Not Normal to just have days where you literally cannot drag yourself out of bed in the morning and then get hit with terror that if you tell anyone about how numb you feel they’ll immediately think you’re unworthy as a human being, and she’s like, oh, huh, i should  look into that

and anyway Lila doesn’t even try to be a good person at first she just wakes up one day and is like “what the heck when did i get actual friends and passions and hobbies,, i did not sign up for this” but she does start making an effort to be worthy of them and she ends up growing a whole ton once she’s given a support system

and anyway i know lots of people are uncomfy with Lila and that’s fine, but i’m continuously a sucker for “evil devil child is actually a pretty decent human being once their basic needs are met and they feel safe” trope

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Soulmarks, Part 12

First part

Previous

~~~

Tim was separated from the only two people in the country he knew within seconds of the lunch bell ringing.

Marinette had been called up by the teacher. Apparently, she was class president last year and she held the duties until the next election. She gave a tiny sigh as she released Tim’s hand and gave both him and Adrien kisses on the cheek before heading out with Mme. Bustier.

Adrien, at least, was still in the room. Unfortunately, though, he was completely surrounded by his classmates, who were all clamoring for pictures of his notes.

He crossed his arms over his chest awkwardly as he stood outside the door, waiting for either of his friends to appear.

The door swung open and out walked Lila.

Damn it, he’d held Marinette’s hand too long and her bad luck had rubbed off on him.

He sighed. “What do you want?”

She smiled sweetly at him, twirling a lock of her hair in her fingers. “I just wanted to show the new kid around some.”

“Wouldn’t that be Marinette’s job as class rep?”

Lila sighed and shook her head slowly. “Oh, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but… I wouldn’t get too close to Mari.”

He raised his eyebrows. A little late for that, but he supposed he may as well ask: “Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, she’s a bit of a bully.” She looked at the ground. “Did she ever tell you about all the times she tried to ‘prove’ that I wasn’t actually disabled? Just because she didn’t like me? We hadn’t even talked, she was just mad I was talking to Adrien!”

A frown made its way across his face. Sure, it wasn’t at all like the Marinette he knew, but how well did he know her? He’d never seen how she interacted with people she didn’t like… and hadn’t he seen just how ruthless she could be when she wanted to that first day with ‘bowling’? In the way her expression hardened when Joker or Harley were mentioned?

He leaned against the wall. “There are other things?”

Lila’s head jerked up in surprise. “Huh?”

“You said ‘for one thing’. That implies more.”

“You’d think bullying would be enough…” Said Lila with a frown, but she continued: “Secondly, I think she’s a gold digger.”

His mind wandered to the few times Bruce had tried to buy something for her. How she’d ended up hiding money around for him to find so he couldn’t force it back into her hands. He gave a soft laugh. No, he wasn’t concerned about that. “Well, I can say she isn’t.”

Besides, if anyone here was a gold digger, it was probably Lila. Her eyes had lit up at the Wayne name. Projecting much?

She didn't seem all that convinced. “I just think it’s a little suspicious that she goes after you, Kagami, and Adrien. The girl has a pattern, and it’s money.”

He snickered. “Okay, and what about Chloe Bourgeois?”

“Chloe?” Said Lila slowly. “How do you know about Chloe?”

He frowned. “She’s in our class, right?”

“Well, yes, but they don’t talk or anything. How’d you know about her?”

“Simple: I’m her soulmate.”

Lila blanked. There was a few moments where she apparently rebooted, and then she scoffed. “Are you sure about that? Marinette likes to lie. A lot.”

“Pretty sure. Unless you know some other designers, who live in France, who bakes a lot, who carries a yoyo in their pocket, who also happens to love her parents.”

She finally stopped twirling her hair, shoving her hands in her pockets as she mulled this over. “Congrats on finding your soulmate,” she said in the same begrudging tone that siblings use when their parents make them apologize to each other. “But…”

“But…?”

Lila leaned forward conspiratorially. “I think she might be working for Hawkmoth.”

Don’t. Laugh.

He shook his head, pursing his lips together tightly to stop himself from laughing. When he was sure that he could keep a straight face, he mumbled a “yeah, no.”

She shrugged. “Don’t believe me? She disappears during every akuma and she’s never been akumatized. I’m telling you, she’s working with him!”

He couldn’t help it anymore, he snickered. Sure, the girl had gathered some pretty good evidence, but she’d come to the complete wrong conclusion. Before he could really come up with a reason for why he was so convinced that she couldn’t be working with him, he spotted Marinette running back to the classroom.

Tim watched her eyes narrow when she spotted Lila and raised his eyebrows. Sure, three out of four of Lila’s points were wrong, but the first one still concerned him.

Marinette gave a forced smile as she came to a stop beside him. “Ready for your tour? I even got special permission to take you out of school for lunch today,” she chirped, holding up two tiny slips of paper.

He smiled faintly. “How’d you manage that?”

“I let it slip to the principal that I was showing around Tim Drake-Wayne. They practically begged me to keep the school food away from you.” She winked, then her eyes found their way to Lila. Her smile lessened. “Lunch is almost over for you, Lila, you should get something to eat. What with your weak immune system and all, we wouldn’t want you to get sick, would we?”

He narrowed his eyes slightly and glanced at Lila, who sighed like this was a regular occurrence.

“Fine, Mari, I’ll leave. I know when I’m not wanted.” She leaned up and kissed Tim on the cheek before he could really react. “A presto,” she said, sending a grin over her shoulder as she walked off.

He gave a tiny wave and then glanced at Marinette.

“You’re crumpling the papers.”

She snapped out of it and frowned, looking down at the passes. She loosened her grip and started smoothing them out with her fingers. “Right. Sorry. Let’s go.”

~

She should have warned him about Lila. She had no clue what the liar had said about her, but it clearly was affecting Tim. Earlier he’d been holding her hand and now he would barely even look her in the eyes.

She stared at the empty cup of coffee in front of her as they waited for the waiter to come back with their food in silence.

A tiny part of her was tempted to just let Lila have him. She’d managed to get everyone else, had picked off all her friends one by one. Even Adrien would usually eat with Nino. At this point, she was starting to think it would be easier to just let go of the hope that she could really have friends while she lived in Paris. It would certainly feel better than grasping onto him desperately only to lose him…

She pulled her yoyo from her pocket and started messing with it.

One attempt. She’d give herself one attempt.

“What did she tell you?”

He looked at her. Finally.

“She obviously told you something. What was it?”

He finished off his coffee and set down his cup. “She said you’re a bully.”

“Well, she’s a compulsive liar.”

“She said the same about you.”

She cursed as her yoyo tangled itself and started fixing the string. “And you’re going to believe her over me?”

He reached across the table and gently pulled the yoyo from her fingers and started working the knots out. “Normally, I wouldn’t, but…” He sighed lightly. “Would she really have a reason to fake an illness?”

Marinette blinked, then shook her head. “That wasn’t the first lie I figured out. The first one was --.” She cut herself off and gave the waiter an awkward smile as he set down a plate of waffles.

The teens mumbled their thanks and he left.

She switched to English for her next sentence: “She lied about being friends with Ladybug.”

He raised his eyebrows.

She frowned. He didn’t trust her. Great. She had proof, at least. She scrolled through the Ladyblog for a while before handing over the video of Lila claiming to be Ladybug’s best friend.

“So... she lied once to seem cool to her new classmates and you decided that was enough to never trust her again?”

She wanted to kick something. Seriously? She pulled her yoyo back from him and started pulling on the string as hard as she could. She needed her yoyo back. She needed to calm down. She needed --.

Her eyes spotted a black and purple speck on the horizon and she squeaked.

Fuck. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t get akumatized. She wouldn’t be able to fix things if she was akumatized. She couldn’t let someone die because of her --.

Tim followed her gaze and cursed quietly. “Listen, Nette, I’m sorry! I believe you!”

“I’m not stupid, Tim! I know you’re just saying that!” She hissed.

Angry tears formed behind her eyes. All the emotions she’d been holding back since Hawkmoth had begun his reign of terror were threatening to fall through and she couldn’t let that happen. God, she was feeling so much and she couldn’t handle it and she couldn’t allow herself to even try and someone was letting the akuma in and --.

She shut down.

Her emotions went from feeling like they were suffocating her to being practically nonexistent. She sunk in her seat, barely even paying attention to all the people scrambling for cover as fast as they could. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything at all.

The akuma paused inches away from her yoyo and she watched with a blank face as it slowly turned around and fluttered out the way it had come.

“Nette?” Said Tim quietly, his eyes not leaving the akuma.

She closed her eyes.

One attempt, she told herself. One last attempt.

“I’ll admit, I definitely didn’t like that Lila was getting close to Adrien and it made me more bitter and skeptical about everything she said than I should have been… but I still caught her in actual lies. About who she knows, about the things she’s done, about her illnesses, about everything. And I called her out on it every time, it’s why she’s so determined to keep everyone away from me. With more lies, of course, but they always have just enough truth that everyone believes her and nothing I do ever seems to be enough to convince them.”

Tim said nothing for a moment…

And then she felt his hand rest over hers.

“I believe you… but --.”

She groaned. “Great. I tried. Want a tour before we stop talking to each other forever?”

“Not like that. I’m just saying… for all of her lies, she was projecting: bullying, gold digging, lying…”

She nodded slightly. “Sure. So?”

“She also accused you of working for Hawkmoth.”

Her eyes snapped open.

~~~

Next part

“I can’t wait to see what Lila does”

Me, staring at my outline, which just says “Lila but better but also stupid”: yeah me too buddy

Taglist

@pawsitivelymiraculous @golden-promises @salty-fang @kitsunebell @sassakitty @octobitch @glastwime859 @miyla-lokidottir @onlyabatfan @ira-sairain @2confused-2doanything @ultimatetornshipper @ladybug-182 @laurcad123 @we-want-mini-mini @roguishredaxion @just-reblogs-by-h @futursworld @magic-miraculous @nathleigh @smolplantmum @vroomtaka  @emimar7 @toodaloo-kangaroo @charme-de-malchan @spicybelladonna @fusser90 @indecisive-mess-named-me

[yikesharringrove]

what's your saddest hc about stevie?

I have so many. Buckle up.

Um, there’s nothing really serious, everything is fairly vague so I don’t think I can think of any specific content warnings but it is angst so be careful. There’s like one mention of sex I think too.

Basically, I cannot see him without some mental health issues. Specifically anxiety and depression and ptsd.

I also have a fic that will probably never see the light of day where Steve has OCD and it kinda goes into how his compulsions begin to take more concrete form after the Upside Down and the actual monsters and how he begins to develop new routines and tics that go into all of that. It gets pretty spicy.

But here’s a smattering of others:

After talking with Nancy in the alley in season 2 in his gym class, he skips the rest of the school day and cries in his car.

His mother has forgotten his name three times. He chalks them up to her having a lil too much wine, but it still hurts. 

At the beginning of working at Scoops, Robin fucking hated him on principle and he was really distant from her because he felt he deserved it for how he used to act in high school

Steve hates his own company bc he wears such a strong facade with everyone in his life when he’s alone he doesn’t even know how to act bc he doesn’t even know who he is

He realized he liked guys from a young age and spent a very long time hating himself for it

He made a case for himself to go to the local community college to do some general classes and find what he wants to study before re-applying to a four-year university, but his dad told him he’d rather have a deadbeat for a son than have Steve embarrass him like that

In third grade, Steve accidentally called his teacher “mom” enough times that she became genuinely concerned for his home life and tried to arrange a meeting with the principal

He lost his virginity to a senior girl when he was a freshman, and he tried to ask her on a date the next day and she laughed in his face and he tried to swear off relationships (until Nancy and we all know how that ended for him)

He sleeps with his blinds closed because the pool freaks him out, but he also sometimes gets a weird feeling like someone’s watching him and he doesn’t know if that’s from the idea of a demogorgon out there, or the idea that Jonathan took photos through his bedroom window

He didn’t tell Billy he loved him until Billy said it first because he was too scared that he felt more for Billy than he did for him. Which means that they were a solid two years into their relationship and fully living together before either of them had the courage to say it

At the end of season one when he’s sitting next to Ted Wheeler, he was waiting for his parents, whom the lab had called some hours ago, to come and pick him up. They never showed. When he got home he realized that his mother had answered the call, but they decided that their trip to Spain was more important and went to the airport as scheduled instead

He lashed out so hard in high school mostly as a cry for help and attention because he didn’t know how else to get those things other than being popular and a bully

Keith has made him almost cry at work at least once a week

He didn’t go to senior prom bc he felt like it would just be sad, only to find out at school the following Monday he had been voted prom king as a joke, and he felt kinda relieved he didn’t go bc then he avoided that humiliation

Claudia Henderson called him a good boy to his face once and he nearly had a breakdown over someone telling him something kind about himself

He once had an idea that the only reason he doesn’t get in trouble at school is bc his dad donates so much money to the shitty high school, so he tested his theory by not doing any homework for a month and even going as far as to graffiti some of the lockers, and all that happened was one (1) meeting where the principal told him “I don’t want to have to call your parents” and nothing else. Steve knew if he failed his dad would blame him, but the schoolboard was worried that if Steve failed his dad would blame the school and pull out his donations and funding. Sometimes Steve thinks that’s the only reason he graduated

He once asked Nancy not to call him an idiot, because even if she meant it endearingly, it still hurt his feelings and she told him not to be so sensitive and he never brought it up again

Once Hopper arrested him and Tommy for being minors and drunk in public and held them overnight. Tommy’s parents came as soon as they could to sign him out and take care of the protocol I’m too lazy to look up but am sure exists, and Steve’s parents didn’t show for two days and Hop felt so bad for the kid he just let him off with a warning, throwing away all the paperwork. So technically, Steve has a clean record

He absolutely self medicates you cannot change my mind

Having dinner with the Wheelers was the first time he felt a proper family dinner, where you all talk about your day and bicker a lil bit. First time he had dinner with the Byers it was even more overwhelming because that’s how it feels to be a part of a real proper family

His favorite class he’s ever taken was woodshop. He’s actually really good at building things and figuring out how to bring an idea to life like that and visualizing how dimensions and pieces fit together. It’s the only class he’s gotten an A in but his dad told him manual labor is unnecessary and other stupid shit and wouldn’t let Steve sign up for the next level of the class

That’s all for now because this got LOOOOONG, but yeah. I bit of Steve angst for your troubles.

[fitgothgirl]

Sorry to keep complaining about this the last few months or so, but faaaack I’m so addicted to the internet/news/social media/screens. The compulsion is so strong to always be checking and scrolling. I always find myself screaming internally to do literally anything else, or even nothing, to just be off my phone/computer for an extended period. And even just thinking about it and trying to plan for it makes me want to pick up my phone even more. I 1000% believe that this stuff has similar effects on our brains as cocaine… I think I keep coming here to talk about it because it’s a way to vent about it, which is good, but also to still be online and sharing and getting likes and whatnot. But when I feel those feelings my reaction should just be deciding to get offline… (But here I am…)

I think a lot about what it was like pre-internet. Because even if I went all out and deleted all social media and changed to a flip phone or even landline, it wouldn’t be the same, because I just know there is this whole second reality that everyone is concurrently participating in. As a millennial born in 1990, I had a taste of what it used to be like before the internet really took over our lives around middle school, but it’s getting harder to remember. But I know there wasn’t this cloud of a virtual reality hanging over all our heads constantly. Everything was just what it was in that moment, on its own. People weren’t split between the present moment and the virtual world. You would talk on the phone with others or send letters, but otherwise there was just tangible reality. No things going viral, no planning how you’re going to share an event to your story/page, no being expected to be available at all times, no FOMO, no deciphering the true meaning/inflection of someone’s text, no influencers. People got validation in normal quantities at normal intervals. If you weren’t at home, you couldn’t be contacted (at least easily). We took pictures just for our own memories, to be printed and put in albums that would only be seen by others when we had company. People’s lives wouldn’t be upended by one thing they said ten years ago. We read the paper in the morning and watched the news at night and that was it for news for the day. Things moved slower, our minds were calmer, we could be alone with our thoughts. I know it wasn’t a utopia and we all still had problems and stressors and politics, but it was so different. I just want to be free of this urgency to connect/share/scroll/be validated.

Of course there are all the amazing good things that the internet has done for us with being connected to others when we feel alone in one way or another (like what I’m doing right now), or having all the information in the world at our fingertips, etc. But the negative stuff is just as impactful as the positive and we're just hearing more and more about how bad this is for us mentally/spiritually and physically, it’s such a double-edged sword; teen/tween confidence is sinking and suicides are rising, misinformation is fucking everywhere, we’re constantly exposed to every single little horror that happens. We see all this hate and anger it just begets more hate and anger within us. And everything is so amplified right now with covid. I’m nauseated with information overload and I’m always angry, but I still can’t stop. Ugh.

Thanks for listening to my boomer-esque technophobe rant... That I’m posting on social media... Lol.

[kitty0boy]

So it’s like 2 am rn and I’m tired but can’t sleep so I wrote this down quickly. It’s a little Marichat fic that probably won’t be very good because I’m running on like 5 hours of sleep. I’ll probably fix spelling mistakes tomorrow or even just delete this but for now, enjoy.

—————————

The class decided to have a picnic to celebrate their last year at Francois DuPont high school. They were about 17 now, some were 18. Everyone lounged around, eating pastries, talking about their first day back from summer and just genuinely having a good time. Unfortunately Adrien’s father had instructed him to go home so while he packed his belongings, he listened to his friends conversations. That was when he saw a younger girl run up to Lila.

Now Adrien knew he had a lot of fans, as Chat and as himself. The older and more, how you say, well defined he became, the more fans he acquired. Though when it came to Chat, being a fangirl was much more dangerous. At one point it got so bad that Ladybug had to schedule an interview with the Ladyblog telling them to stay away during akuma attacks. They would quite literally, chase after Chat while he was being chased after by an akuma. He even saw one of them pretend to be hurt so he would swoop in and save them. Yeah very dangerous stuff. Which is why it was quite a scared to hear that Lila was a fan.

“Of course I’m a fan of his, in fact, I’m quite close with one of Paris’s superheroes.” She spoke, hiding the lying tone to her voice. As irritating as she was, he had to admit she was good. “Really?” The girl squealed. She was on the younger side, maybe 13 or 14, about his age when he first got his Miraculous. “Oh leaving so soon Adrien?” She said in a sickeningly sweet voice. “Yeah, my father again.” He replied, trying to sound friendly. “I can walk you home if you like! I wanted to speak with Mr. Agreste anyways. About our up coming photo shoot.” Damn it, he’d almost forgotten about that. He hated shoots with Lila. Adrien had always liked physical affection, but with her it was almost unbearable. “No that’s ok, I can walk him.” Marinette offered, stepping in to shield him from the object of his discomfort. And what a beautiful shield she was.

Her days of pigtails were over, instead she would wear her hair in different styles everyday. Today was a half up half down style with space buns, very reminiscent of her fight as Multimouse. She has also settled for a mint green t-shirt and a black skirt which clearly paid homage to his superhero self. It was nearly impossible to wipe the Cheshire grin off his face as she strode over, picnic basket in hand. He was visiting her while she finished the little paw prints along the hem of the skirt, but of course she wouldn’t know that. “Wow miss, I really like your outfit! Where’d you get it?” The girl squeaked rushing over. Her eyes shining with pure joy. “Oh why thank you, I actually made it myself.” She curtsied, very adorably in his opinion. “Wow that’s so cool! Could you make me one?” If she got anymore excited she would float into space. “You know, I can get Chat to stop by if you wanted.” Lila chimed in, drawing the girls attention back to her. “Really?” She turned and ran towards her new favourite person. “Of course I can, my boyfriend always seems to find me.” She faked a gasp and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “Whoops.” She exhaled. The class gasped. That was what she was looking for.

“You’re dating Chat Noir Lila?” Marinette snickered, silencing them. It was clear that Lila had more influence over the class now. As much as they all loved Marinette, Lila had successfully made herself more interesting. “Yes I am, but I wasn’t supposed to say that. Oh no, I’m going to get into so much trouble.” She delicately placed her fists over her chest for added effect. Marinette burst out laughing and that’s when Adrien slowly started to back away unnoticed by his friends.

He ran and ducked into an alley way making sure he wasn’t followed. “Oh come on kid, I didn’t even get anything from the picnic. You should have at least slipped me something.” Plagg groaned. “I will after I go sort this mess out, it’s dangerous if people think Lila is dating me, she could be targeted by Hawkmoth.” He rationalized. “Big deal, if she gets akumatized we can just purify her no problem.” “Uh yeah Plagg it is a big deal. What if Hawkmoth kidnaps her instead, as much as I don’t like her I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.” “Well kid if she gets kidnapped because she lied about dating you it’s not your fault is it? Now can I at least finished eating?” He sighed, Plagg was right. If she got kidnapped now she only had herself to blame. An idea did pop into his head. Maybe if she was proven wrong, she might stop saying things like that, and he knew the purrfect purrincess to help him achieve his goal. “Later, Plagg Claws Out!” A flash of green later and there’s stood Chat Noir, in all his leather-clad glory. Hopping onto the roof, he made to move towards them when the sound of shouting caught his attention.

“Do you realized how dangerous it is to even say things like that!” Marinette squeaked, really living up to her super identity and the mysterious multimouse. “You can’t just tell people you’re dating superheroes for attention Lila, you’re safety could be at risk.” She pointed, Lila seemed to be unphased but there was something about her posture that showed she was guilty and ticked off. “I already told you I didn’t mean to let it slip, I have a rare condition c-“ “called Liars Luny or something like that right?” Marinette interrupted. He had to hold back a laugh at her clever remark. “Marinette that was incredibly rude.” Rose intervened, and one by one everyone turned their faces to Marinette, a glared placed on almost all of them. All but Nino and Alya, who had long discovered Lila’s manipulative ways. Though they were still afraid to say anything about it, they didn’t want her to get akumatized after all.

“Look Marinette, if you’re jealous just say so, I won’t be mad. I’m sure a lot of other women would love to get their hands on my sweet kitten. I mean, considering your outfit it’s pretty obvious you have a crush on him.” You know, for a compulsive liar, Lila seemed to be good at getting the truth out of others. Marinette’s face turned pink and her fists began to clench. Her back stiffened up too, was she really jealous? Or was it just his imagination. Maybe he hoped she was, he had fancied her for a while now but he never made a move. Suddenly his classmates were surrounding her and she looked like she was on the verge of tears.

His anger from earlier started to rise to his chest as he let out a low growl and leapt off the roof. Thankfully, his years as a model made him a fairly decent actor as well.

“Fancy seeing you here my purrincess.” He purred walking over to the group. “You look radiant as always.” Lila stiffened but quickly tried to look relaxed as she confidently strode towards him. “It’s nice to see you here too kitten, couldn’t stay away from me I see.” She smiled, it almost looked genuine. It didn’t take long for her possi of classmates to follow behind, leaving Marinette standing there clearly distraught, he growled again as a tear slid down her cheek. Keeping it cool, he cooked up a response. “Umm, I’m sorry but do I know you?” He said in mock confusion. The class gasped slightly, “Of course you know me, didn’t you just call me your princess?” Lila chimed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “No. I have no idea who you are, I was talking to the lovely lady in green and black. She is radiant isn’t she, and she looks fantastic in my colours.” He replied cooly. Before anyone had time to react he ran through the crowd and picked up Marinette, twirling her in a circle. She giggled slightly, her throat a little strained. She placed her forearms on his shoulders, intertwining her fingers behind his head as he slowly lowered her to the ground. “What’s wrong love?” He reached up, gently brushing a tear from her cheek. She got the hint to play along. “Nothing I’m all good kitty.” She smiled genuinely and he smiled back. Ignoring the eyes of everyone around them. He held up his arm and gestures to her skirt. “Do you see all of these little paw prints? She sewed them all herself! It took her 4 hours too, I almost couldn’t draw her attention away from the stitching.” She blushed and buried her face in his shoulder, oh mon dieu she was so cute. “And these shoes,” he scooped her up bridal style and she laughed. “See the little toe beans, how adorable.” The girls squealed and ran over to admire her craftsman ship while the boys kept glaring daggers at Ms. Lie-la. “Ok now stand back everyone! We have to show you how it spins.” Marinette cocked and eyebrow at him. “How it spins? Excuse me sir but my pronouns are she/her.” He chuckled before pinching the black fabric of her skirt. “No I mean this, you did wear shorts today did you not?” “I did.” She confirmed. “Good,” he subtly winked at her before continuing, a little louder than necessary, “Wouldn’t want everyone else seeing what’s mine now would we.” Before she could register his words he held a hand above her head and gave her a little twirl, her skirt flowing beautifully in the wind. “See what’d I tell you? Absolutely beautiful.” He turned and smiled down at her, she blushed back up at him. Dieu, he could happily die drowning in her eyes. The two of them seemed to be in a world of their own, just looking at each other.

Until a voice snapped them back to reality. “I can’t believe you! You filthy cheater!” As well as a liar, Lila was a good actor. Tears streaming down her cheeks, arms straighten and hands curled into fists. He rolled his eyes before forcing them to look at a more revolting sight. “Like I said miss, I have no idea who-“ he paused “Oh wait I remember you! You were the liar that nearly got Marinette expelled weren’t you! The one who tried to intervene when Onii-chan was akumatized just because you disliked Ladybug.” He didn’t mean to get so angry but he couldn’t hide it anymore. His hand gripped Marinette’s shoulder a little more tightly than he would have liked but she wasn’t hurt by it. Everyone gasped on cue and turned to Lila who stood there pale. Karma is a bitch isn’t it? In his fury he barely registered Marinette’s hand on his arms. “Come on Chat, let’s get out of here.” She whispered. Coaxing him back to the present. “Yeah ok, I’m sure your friends will deal with her.” She smiled at her classmates who had turned towards Lila with furious looks on their faces. “Did you have a place in mind mousinette.” She giggled at that. “Well there’s always that spot you took me to the first time you came to visit, remember where it is?” She smiled. “I don’t think I would forget that.” He turned towards the crowd. “Welp, me and the princess will be taking our leave now, though I did enjoy seeing you all again.” Then he stooped down to pick her up bridal style as she giggled. For good measure he placed a light kiss to her temple before racing off towards that lovely spot they had just discussed.

“WHAT THE F***.” The fangirl screamed after all the confusion.

———————————

So it’s been a month or two since I first posted this and I decided to clean it up a bit and add a few more details to it. Not that this is suddenly going to blow up but I do like the impurrovement (hehe I have puns for days). So yes, if by some miracle you are reading this, I hope you enjoyed!

[lailyn]

This Magical Journey Called Multiple (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Loki/Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Drama, Idiots In Love, Mpreg

Summary: Loki thought he had struck gold this lifetime around, having found not one, but two loves at once. This new life he is carrying could only be a blessing, so why isn't everybody happy?

“I am not injured,” Loki insisted. “It was the heat, it must have gotten to me.”

“It’s still a good idea to take it easy, Bambi. Heat stroke is one of those things that can hit you from out of nowhere,” Tony said.

At Stephen’s mildly-impressed look, Tony gave a modest shrug. “We’ve been together how long? Of course I’ve picked up a few things.”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “At least something good has come out of it.”

Ignoring Tony’s indignant ‘Hey!’, Stephen conjured a tall, cool glass of water and offered it to Loki, who looked all manner of singed save for his armour. “But Tony’s right. There may not be external burn injuries, but we humans are about seventy percent water, and I’m guessing you’re not that far off either.”

“I’m not a child,” Loki grumbled. Nevertheless, he dutifully accepted the drink and took a few long gulps, stopping abruptly when a sudden nauseous feeling assaulted his senses the moment the water hit his stomach. “Tony, please don’t make that face. It’s making me want to do things.”

“I can’t help it. It’s my fault. I should have - ”

“No should haves, could haves,” Loki interrupted. “Stop it. Shit happens.”

“Language,” Tony admonished lightly but his body language was still steeped in guilt.

“Guess I’ve picked up a few things too,” Loki murmured, nodding gratefully at Stephen as his husband stepped in to wrap an arm around Tony’s shoulders. Not only was the Sorcerer Supreme a good lay in bed, he was a mind-reader too. Loki sure got lucky this time around.

Tony straightened up a little in Stephen’s one-armed embrace. “Glad you guys had my back or I would have been smoked brisket.”

At the mention of brisket, the nausea reared its monstrous head again and Loki gagged.

“Let’s get you out of the sun.” Stephen was beginning to sound worried now. “You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine,” Loki said, swallowing compulsively. Before either of his overbearing husbands could argue, (they were always so noisy when they fussed) he corrected himself, “I will be fine.”

“Right,” Tony snorted. “Nice try. Come on, up. Next time, don’t skip breakfast.”

Stephen snorted even louder. “And the frying-pan said to the kettle, 'Avant, black-browes'.”

“I don’t know what you just said, but it can’t be good,” Tony grunted, nearly toppling under Loki’s weight, who really was more unsteady than he was letting on. “Will you boom-boom-whoosh us a portal already?”

Stephen shook his head and wrapped his arm around Loki’s waist, taking on some of the burden.

“I can walk,” Loki whined.

“Sure you can,” Stephen said kindly. “We just happen to do it better.”

__________________________________________________________

Tony didn’t know how anybody could sleep with the AC blowing full-blast in their face but Loki did just that, and for twelve hours straight too. Their not-strictly-human husband had never slept for such a long stretch of time and it could only be a testament to his exhaustion.

As he closed the bedroom door behind him to give Loki some privacy while he freshened up in the bathroom, his worried eyes met Stephen’s equally troubled gaze.

“Think he’s coming down with something?” Tony asked quietly.

“He seemed fine yesterday when the call came, and he was fighting fit," Stephen mulled as they walked back toward the kitchen together. “Wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, he took down those Doombots like they were nothing. He did that flashy move of his, you know the one where he’s like ribbon-dancing in the sky, except his ribbons turned into deadly blades the minute they came into contact with a Bot.”

“I have to take your word for it, I guess. I was kinda busy keeping a few buildings standing,” Stephen said enviously, as it was a sight he wouldn’t have minded seeing himself. Watching Loki in battle was always a spectacle, even back when they were still rivals.

Tony must have misconstrued the envy in his voice and decided that a little teasing was in order. “Aw, I’m sure you were great, honey.” He reached out to squeeze Stephen’s bicep. “Feeling a little sore there?”

“I held them up by magic but thank you for asking,” Stephen said dryly. “I wouldn’t mind a massage though, if you’re offering me one.”

“I’ll see if I can fit you in my tight schedule.” Kisses stolen in passing whilst walking down hallways were often sweet, made sweeter still by the relief Tony could feel bleeding through their locked lips. It had not been too long ago that they had almost lost Loki to that terrible illness, and it was that same shared fear that had plagued both Stephen and him since yesterday.

As they sat back down to their now-cold breakfast, he could see just how much Stephen’s face had brightened. The appetite that was almost killed by JARVIS’ mid-meal interruption to inform them that Loki was finally awake came back with a vengeance, and Tony shoveled his eggs into his mouth like a man starving.

It was after a few bites that he deemed his hunger momentarily sated enough to broach another issue that had been weighing on him.

"How was Loki...the night before last?" Tony asked tentatively.

It was an arrangement only recently agreed upon that they made use of the ten bedrooms in the penthouse, with each claiming a bedroom of his own and still having the freedom to choose where and with whom to spend the night. It came about after Stephen's odd hours and Tony's unpredictable work frenzies clashed with Loki's need for absolute silence when sleeping.

Tony had never met a lighter sleeper in his life. So when Stephen got called out on Sorcerer Supreme business for three nights in a row, it did not surprise either of them when Loki, tired of the interruptions to his beauty sleep, set fire to the bed.

Tony wished the mercurial God of Chaos could spare the custom-made, eiderdown-covered Alaskan king bed...alas, new beds he could always buy, but there was only one of Loki.

"Sleep in separate bedrooms! It's the secret to a happy marriage, don't you ever watch The Crown?" Pepper had said, rubbing salt into the wound the next day when he called her up the next day to moan. "God knows you have enough rooms to sleep in a different one for every night of the month."

Which was an exaggeration of course, for only the top floor of the penthouse had four bedrooms on the same floor, one for each of them, and the biggest, most lavish one reserved for when they needed to spend time together as a proper throuple.

Clearly perturbed by Tony's question, Stephen carefully set his fork back on his plate. "Could you be more specific?"

"Did he seem a little...impatient to you?"

"Impatient?" Stephen frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You know…" Tony drawled, "More...urgent. Demanding."

"You mean horny," Stephen deadpanned.

"Shhh. You know he doesn't like that word!" Tony whispered loudly. "It depreciates his aesthetic."

Stephen chuckled. "You can say horny, Tony. Loki's not here."

"And now he is," a sultry voice suddenly spoke from behind, and Stephen nearly yelped.

"Loki!" He gasped. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," Loki said coolly, sliding into the empty chair beside Tony, to whom he directed his next question. "So what else does he say about me when I'm not here?"

"Only the most flattering things, sweetness." Tony rubbed his hand up and down Loki's back. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm drunk on sleep." Loki's nostrils flared as he tried to kill the oncoming yawn but failed. "But not bad. You?"

"Nothing an Advil or two can't fix." Tony reached out a hand to stop Loki from stealing a piece of toast off his plate. "I think Stephen's wanting to take your spinal fluid or brain tissue or something first."

Stephen rolled his eyes. "Just your blood will do."

"Why?" Loki whined. "I hate those adamantium needles, they itch like a bitch."

Tony let out a scandalous whisper. "Language!"

"I want to make sure there's no electrolyte imbalance and that your sugar level's okay. You were vomiting quite profusely yesterday," Stephen said,

"I'm not anymore," Loki pointed out. "I feel absolutely fine."

"It's just a precaution, Loki," Stephen tried again but before he could say anything further, Loki held up a regal hand.

"And I can tell you with absolute certainty that my blood sugar level is very low because I am very, very hungry and if you do not feed me within the next thirty seconds I will eat your face," he growled. "Literally."

Stephen slowly, wordlessly, slid his plate across the table.

"Thank you, Stephen," Loki said sweetly  before attacking the egg-white and quinoa omelette with gusto. He swallowed the first bite and made a face. "This is nasty."

A heated debate and a number of mortal threats later, Loki was well on his way out the door. “Anytime today, Stark. Get a move on.”

“Can’t you go?” Tony pleaded. “I’ve never done my own grocery shopping before.”

Stephen looked at him incredulously. “You don’t have to do anything. You just have to prepare the money when he asks and make sure he doesn’t buy out every stall he happens to like.”

Loki tapped his foot impatiently. “Shall I go by myself then?”

“No!” Both Stephen and Tony said in unison.

“Nice try, Bambi,” Tony added. To Stephen, “You owe me.”

“This and more.” Stephen kissed Tony quickly. “Bring him back in one piece if you can. Oh, and I’m speed-dial number one, two and three on both your phones.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.”

Stephen's eyes disappeared behind his smile. “Loki, babe? Can you come here for a sec?”

Loki marched back to where Stephen and Tony were still huddled by the kitchen counter. “What is it now?”

Stephen dropped an effervescent electrolyte tablet into a glass of water. “Drink this before you go. You need to replenish your electrolytes.”

Loki groaned. “Stephen, I am electrolyted up to my eyeballs. Enough, please.”

“Today’s going to be a hot day, according to the weather forecast,” Stephen warned. “Can’t risk you getting dehydrated again.”

“It can’t possibly be hotter than yesterday," Loki said. He turned to Tony. "You need to figure out how to increase your heat resistance to Doom's fire-breathing Bots, I can't be covering you all the time. What if I'm not there?"

Stephen’s gaze vacillated between his two lovers in alarm. “Are we expecting any trouble today?”

“No, it was simply a theoretical question,” Loki said patiently. “Tony needs to build better suits.”

“And you need to see a sleep hygienist,” Tony said, just as sweetly. “Can’t have you burning any more beds. We are living in a high-rise, you know.”

Loki shrugged. “It’s not like both of you can’t fly.”

Stephen chuckled, “He’s got a point.”

“Whose side are you on?” Tony grumbled to himself. “Are we going or what?”

Stephen sighed. If he had not made prior arrangements to visit Kamar-Taj that day, he would have been more than happy to take Tony’s place.

He kissed Loki, a tad harder than usual. "Be careful, you two."

Loki laughed. "We're going to the market, Stephen, not off-world to another planet."

“Thank you for the reassurance, Loki.”

Loki’s kiss took Stephen by surprise, not so much the hard pinch Loki gave his cheek. “You fret too much.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s sweet.” Loki’s green eyes glinted. “Makes me want to eat your face every time.”

__________________________________________________________

Strolling the gorgeous Botanical Garden in the Bronx at this time of year was...interesting. Being public figures, it was a given that they would be recognised, but most everybody gave them a wide berth, wholly content with admiring from afar.

If Tony had reservations before, they disappeared quickly enough. Loki’s excitement and appreciation for the diverse arrays of artisan foods was contagious, and as they went from stall to stall perusing the seasonal produce on offer, Tony found himself in danger of doing the very thing he had promised Stephen he would keep Loki from doing.

“That was the best goat cheese I’ve ever tasted,” Tony gushed, arms laden with carrier bags full of cheeses, preserves and a variety of herb-infused olive oils. “You sure this is enough?”

“Nope,” Loki said. “But next week we can get Stephen to come with us and buy some more.”

“Sounds like a plan. Your ice cream’s melting.”

Loki held it out and Tony took a lick. “That’s yum.”

“You can have it if you want,” Loki said, sounding suddenly faint.

Tony frowned. “What’s the matter?”

Loki took in a few deep breaths, his face suddenly the colour of parchment. “I don’t know.”

The ice cream cone slipped out of his hand onto the ground when he abruptly bent at the waist, propping himself on his knees. “Just...give me a moment.”

Tony fumbled with the bags, managing to shift them all onto one hand, freeing the other so he could take Loki’s arm. He led his husband to a bench and sat him down.

“Do you feel sick again?” Tony asked, palming Loki’s forehead. His hand came away clammy. “ Do you need some water?”

Loki nodded his head to the first question, and shook his head to the second. His throat bobbed up and down erratically as though he was trying very hard not to lose the content of his stomach in front of all these people.

“I’m calling Stephen.”

“No!” Loki lunged to try to snatch the phone out of Tony’s hand, but the sudden movement sent a jolt of pain like a knife to his stomach. He doubled over and moaned in pain.

“Loki.” Tony dropped onto the bench and placed a hand on the small of Loki’s back. “Shit, shit, shit.” He stabbed the speed dial on his phone and began to pace. “Come on, come on, pick up.”

By a stroke of fortune, Stephen answered before the first dial tone ended, his “Yeah?” a cross between irritable and amused.

“We have a situation,” Tony said tensely.

“That bad, huh?”

Stephen’s indifference was expected given Tony’s propensity for drama, but today was not the day. "Strange, I’m not kidding. I think you need to come get us.“

"Loki may not have the patience for fresh produce and mingling but I’m sure I can trust you to keep him from terrorising the poor farmers for a few hours,” Stephen said, letting out a small chuckle at the imagery. “Or has he stabbed someone already?”

Tony remained uncharacteristically silent.

“Tony?” Stephen began to feel uneasy. “Please tell me Loki did not actually stab someone?”

“Loki’s not feeling well."

There was a sudden pause. When next Stephen spoke, his voice sounded strange. "Well, come on home.”

Loki lifted his head, as though he was listening in on the conversation all along.

“Can you walk?” Tony asked quietly. He helped Loki to his feet, only to regret it a second later. He did not think it was possible for Loki’s face to go that many shades paler, but it did.

Tony cradled the phone to his ear and quickly pushed his swaying husband back onto the bench. “Yeah…that’s a negative.”

Another pause ensued; thankfully it was a shorter one this time.

“Stay where you are.”

TBC