#i’m going to visit one of my favorite aunts and see my favorite cousin

[hvertz]

.

[fireya-x]

family dinner

AO3 Link (for the full tag list) || masterlist

John asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for one night, to save himself from annoying questions from his family. Turns out, you're actually who he really wants.

[9k+ words]

cw: smut, piv sex, cowgirl, handjobs, come eating

Embossed golden script on cream white card paper - it was an invitation to his grandmothers' birthday party, alright. A subtle attempt at elegance from a woman who thought tea and a tin of biscuits solved most problems. John sighed.

He already knew the drill; his mother, every aunt and uncle, cousins and second cousins twice removed would be there, armed to the teeth with baby pictures and probing questions to make him wish he’d stayed in another country in some godforsaken warzone.

The phone ringing cut through John’s meager dinner of takeout curry, one of his favorites, when he was back in his flat for a short time leave. He picked it up and answered before checking, as he usually did, expecting it to be Laswell – but that voice wasn't Kate.

“Jonathan, my dear boy, did you receive the invitation?” His grandmother’s voice was a robust cackle for her age, a force of nature that kept her so fit at ninety.

“Just held it in my hands seconds ago, Nan.” 

“Ninety years young, can you believe it?”

“Never a dull moment,” he answered, picking at the takeaway container lid.

She laughed lightly, then cleared her throat. “Listen, dear. The caterer is extra fussy. Your opinion is special to me, you know that. It’s not like I get to plan this every day”

Here it comes.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m asking you what you want, John. I have everything else planned.” Of course she did. 

“It’s your birthday, Nan. I’ll eat anything,” he sighed. “Toffee pudding can’t be missing from any birthday, though.”

“Of course, that’s a must! Especially with you visiting! You’ve always loved it as a little boy. Now tell me, is your girl more a partial to fish or chicken?”

The fork clattered onto the styrofoam. John almost choked.

“You’ll be bringing someone, aren’t you?”

He should have said no. He should have clarified, for the thousandth time, that his occupation left no room for romantic walks on the beach and candlelit dinners. Maintaining relationships wasn’t something John did, especially when his job included more explosions than birthday candles on her birthday cake. And apparently, eliminating terrorists and global threats was not a suitable substitute for great-grandchildren.

But there was something in her voice. Hope? Excitement to finally see her grandson with a woman at his side? It was her 90th birthday, after all. Who knew how long John would have her still? Seeing him happy was the greatest gift he could give her, and he knew that.

John sighed. “Yes, I will bring someone.”

That she didn't squeal was unexpected, but he knew his mother was right there with her, listening to everything.

Fuck.

What was he supposed to do? Try Tinder, maybe? How hard could it be to find a woman who’d go on a date with him? But John hated every single aspect of using his phone for anything other than texting and calling — and he gave up when the app asked him too many questions about himself.

That’s when he heard footsteps outside his apartment. He remembered that beautiful, chatty neighbor of his. You'd watched his flat and watered his plants a few times when he was deployed. You’d only met briefly, but given John’s sparsely decorated way of living, he wasn’t worried you would steal anything. But his grandmother's plants were something holy to him, and you kept them alive, and that made you a trustworthy person in his book.

And he would be lying if he didn't admit he'd stolen a glance at you here and there, always hidden in a hoodie or a way-too-big raincoat that obscured your figure, and something about it intrigued him.

Before his brain could even process what his feet were doing, he stumbled to the front door and opened it, revealing you, arms full of groceries, struggling to get the key into the door.

“Need help with that?” A low, grumbling voice startled you, and you almost dropped the bag full of fruits and veggies.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

John chuckled, then took the bag from you as if it was something he'd casually do all the time. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, putting the key in the lock. You took the bag from him and wanted to escape this awkward situation with your way-too-good-looking neighbor as fast as possible. But before you could close the door, he intervened.

“Hey, uh, I have a question.” John’s hand ran through his hair, a nervous gesture that betrayed his usual confidence.

“Yes?”

“I – I kinda promised my grandma that I’d bring a girlfriend to her 90th birthday party, and, well –”

“You don’t have one?” The question came out sounding more shocked than you intended. You were certain he had women lining up for him.

“Yeah, I mean, no, I don’t.” His gaze dropped to the floor for a fleeting moment, as if suddenly embarrassed by the admission. You tilted your head, looking at him expectantly.

“So, you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? What’s in it for me?”

“Free fancy food?” He smiled crookedly, and you were done for. How could you say no to that smile? The same smile that had been haunting your thoughts ever since he’d given you his keys to his apartment? Your heart was pounding.

“It’s a date,” you said, the words slipping out before you could overthink it. The relief that flooded his eyes made something inside you flutter.

“Thank you, I owe you one. Six p.m. on Friday, alright?”

“What should I wear?”

John wasn’t prepared for that question. And he didn’t mean to check you out – but he did. His eyes wandered from your boots, over your hips, up to your breasts – where his gaze lingered a second too long— and then to your face.

“It’s a garden dinner. I’m sure you’ll look nice in anything,” he said, the words feeling ridiculously inadequate the moment they left his lips.

“Very helpful, thanks.” He braced himself for a sarcastic retort, but you chuckled, shaking your head. “I’ll figure it out. Have a nice evening.”

You retreated to your apartment, leaning back against the closed door, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Your heart was still pounding. Did John, your neighbor, ask you out? The same John who seemed so unapproachable, wrapped in that aura of intensity he always wore, who disappeared for weeks on end to go on “business trips” and returned with a deep shadow under those blue eyes? 

What did he even do when he disappeared? You'd never asked. Even when he'd given you his keys so you could look after his flat while he was gone, there was nothing that gave away what exactly he did or where he went.

The small conversations you’d shared had always been just that— small nothings, polite exchanges with your friendly neighbor. Still, those infrequent encounters always sent your stomach into a nervous frenzy. 

You rummaged through your closet, trying to find something that screamed “I'm a cool, collected woman who casually dates mysteriously handsome men ” without looking like you’d overdone it. A garden party could literally mean anything, especially since you knew nothing about his family. Were you supposed to pick a nice, flowing dress or stick with casual jeans and a shirt? You had no idea.

You stopped your mind from spiralling further. It wasn’t a real date. It was a fake date . 

What were you thinking, agreeing to this? You were doubting your own sanity — but then you remembered the crinkled corners of his eyes when he smiled, the warmth that radiated from him when he’d helped you with your groceries – saying “no” to him wasn’t even an option. There was something about him that drew you in, a gravitational pull you couldn’t resist, even if it meant playing pretend.

The sundress you wore – he couldn’t even pinpoint the colour, something soft and warm, summery, like the sky just before dusk – hugged your curves in all the right ways, the delicate straps showcasing the elegant line of your neck and collarbone. His gaze traced the gentle swell of your breasts beneath the thin fabric, the way the skirt flowed over your hips, his mind already picturing how it would look bunched up around your waist when –

Fuck.

A wave of heat - he knew it so well, yet hadn’t felt it in what seemed like forever - crashed over him, settled deep in his gut, tightening his muscles, making his cock twitch.

He shifted uncomfortably, desperately hoping you hadn’t noticed the way his pants suddenly felt about two sizes too small.

He’d usually never been one for flowery dresses and delicate gold jewellery like the earrings that decorated your ears. They clashed with the brutal reality of his world. But on you, it was devastating. You were an innocent, oblivious creature walking straight into his hardened, cynical world without even knowing it. And somehow, against all logic and years of self-preservation, he wanted to corrupt every part of you.

His gaze snapped to the flesh of your delicate thighs that left little to his imagination, those toned legs wrapped around his waist while he pulled you closer and –

Jesus fucking Christ, get a grip.

He forced himself to look away, clenching his jaw so hard he thought he’d pull a muscle.

This was his neighbour. You , who’d watered his plants, borrowed his toolbox, offered a smile whenever you met in the hallway. The one who’d agreed to this incredibly stupid idea. You were doing him a favour, for God’s sake.

“Ready?” He shoved the word out harsher than he’d intended, the sound completely alien to even his own ears. But before you could answer, he shut his door and ushered you towards the exit. He needed air. He’d preferred an ice bath, preferably yesterday.

You didn’t mind adapting to roles and play pretend at all, but as soon as you arrived at the estate, your confidence got humbled. The house was huge, and the driveway alone was already filled with floral arrangements and all sorts of birthday wishes – an enormous ninety made out of entirely blush pink roses and lavender decorated the front yard.

The garden party was in full swing already when you two arrived. The air buzzed with the sound of laughter and chatter, clinking glasses and the distant beat of a live band. John seemed oddly out of place in between the flowers and the brightly dressed guests, like a lone wolf who had been dragged to a tea party.

But as soon as you stepped further into the event, the warm air surrounding you, the scent of freshly cut grass and citrus, the smiling faces all around you, your anxiety about the whole thing lessened. 

“Don’t worry too much," John's arm brushed against yours as you navigated through the clusters of guests. He reached out to grab two drinks from a passing waiter’s tray. “The worst they could do is show you my childhood photos.”

He offered you a drink, and you took it from him, smiling. “Somehow, that’s not as reassuring as you think it is.” You earned yourself a deep chuckle that rumbled through his chest and did decidedly inappropriate things to your equilibrium.

When John took your free hand into his like it was the most normal thing in the world, you felt like this was going to be the easiest task. For a fleeting moment, it was easy to forget you were living a lie.

Until dinner.

The seating arrangements were strategically orchestrated, it seemed, to maximize family bonding - or torture, you hadn’t decided which. You found yourself sitting between John, radiating a mix of polite restraint and his usual natural intensity that set your pulse racing, and a woman with the same kind eyes as him.

“This is my mother, Eleanor,” John had introduced her earlier, her smile so warm and welcoming you’d almost forgotten you were supposed to be playing a role. She seemed almost too impressed when you'd introduced yourself, as if she couldn't quite believe he was telling the truth about having a girlfriend. 

You'd prove them wrong, not for their sake, but for your own growing satisfaction at seeing John surprised.

You were no stranger to the barrage of questions about your single status and lack of a partner from your own family, so you knew how tiresome it could get. You braced yourself for a similar interrogation.

Across the table, John's grandma beamed at you with a delight that melted your heart. You understood then what this was all about for him — fulfilling his grandmother's wish to see him happy, settled.

On impulse, you reached out to grab John’s hand beside yours, your fingers threading through his, offering him a reassuring smile, pretending to bring out your best I-am-so-in-love look you could muster. 

He seemed taken aback, his entire body stiffening for a split second as if your touch were an electric shock. But then he recovered quickly, his fingers tightening around yours with a gentle pressure that sent goosebumps dancing up your arm. He raised your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against your knuckles that lingered a heartbeat too long.

Your breath caught in your throat, your gaze fixated on the curve of his lips, the way his beard scraped against your skin. Your stomach did a somersault, your senses flooded with a rush of longing that was as unexpected as it was undeniably thrilling.

“So,” John's aunt leaned across the table, her voice a bit too loud, as if intended to break the spell you’d fallen under. “What do you do?”

You blinked, momentarily disoriented, your gaze reluctantly leaving John’s hand and focusing on the plate of food a server had just placed before you. Shepherd's pie. But not just any shepherd’s pie. This looked like a culinary masterpiece compared to the frozen meals you were used to eating all the time.

“I work in healthcare,” you answered, your mouth already watering at the sight of the culinary heaven before you. “I’m an ER nurse.”

“Oh, wow,” his grandma chirped from across the table, her eyes twinkling with genuine interest. Her comment, however, was quickly drowned out by his aunt's next, slightly more probing, question.

“I'm amazed you two met with such busy schedules. To be fair,” she added with a sly smile directed at John, “I'm shocked Jonathan managed to find someone at all with his occupation .”

Your fork, laden with a generous portion of creamy mashed potatoes and perfectly seasoned mince, froze halfway to your mouth. Your earlier questions about the nature of John’s job came rushing back. What exactly did he do? You knew he was often away for extended periods, you even kept his plants from dying a slow death from time to time, but his reasons had always been vague. “Business trips,” he’d called them, with a shrug and that infuriatingly handsome smile.

“Right,” you managed, forcing a light laugh as you carefully set your fork back down, your appetite momentarily forgotten. “We make it work. We talk a lot on the phone."

“You do?” His mother, ever the perceptive one, turned to John, her brows raised in what you could only describe as disbelief. “How come you always tell us you can’t contact us?”

John cleared his throat and his hand reached for his beer, his fingers wrapping around the cold glass. “Kate makes some exceptions,” he explained, his gaze fixed on the drink.

Kate? Your mind scrambled for context, your internal “John’s-Life” file coming up short. “Kate” let him make exceptions? Who was Kate, and more importantly, what kind of job required someone to ask permission to make personal phone calls? And why did you feel jealous - you had absolutely no business to feel this way. 

“Who’s Kate?” You asked, reaching for your champagne flute, unable to hide the accusatory edge creeping into your voice.

“My boss . Sort of.” The golden liquid got caught halfway in your throat. First name basis with his boss? His family knew his boss? So many questions came up, and you were slowly starting to panic. You were supposed to be a believable girlfriend, but you were scared the mask was slipping away by the second. 

“Oh, right, Kate. Sorry, darling. You know how my weeks have been lately. It's a wonder I can remember my own name half the time.”

“She must be happy for you, too,” his mother commented, delicately spearing a piece of fish with a precision that made you suspect years of etiquette training lay beneath her impeccably polite facade. “Finding someone special, I mean. Might even spare her some of your, shall we say, moods .” She glanced at John, her eyebrows arched as if she was sharing a private joke with the entire table, except you.

Moods? You’d always found John to be quiet, reserved, perhaps a tad intimidating at times, but never moody. 

You glanced at John, who was pointedly studying his plate, the faintest hint of a flush creeping up his neck. You wouldn't have thought the man capable of embarrassment. It made him seem unexpectedly human, and somehow even more attractive.

You were about to ask for clarification when Nan seized the conversational reins. “So, darlings,” she asked, her gaze moving back and forth between you and John, her smile widening expectantly, “How long have you two known each other?”

“I think six months?” you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips.

At the exact same moment, John declared, “Almost a year now,” his voice deep and steady, completely contradicting your rushed estimation.

You froze. The silence that descended upon the table was deafening. 

“Has it already been that long?” you exclaimed quickly, forcing a bright smile and injecting as much wonder and mock surprise into your voice as you could muster. You prayed that your sudden rush of amnesia would be enough to distract them from the giant, elephant-sized hole you’d just blown in your story. You reached over to slightly squeeze his hand. “I suppose time flies when you’re in love.”

You snuck a peek at John, expecting to see panic, maybe even annoyance, but what you found in his gaze made your heart skip a beat. He was watching you intensely. And that smile playing at the corner of his lips? It made something dangerous and delicious twist low in your belly.

“I believe that,” John’s grandma chimed in, her voice warm with the wisdom of nine decades lived. “You two are very lovely together.”

Eleanor nodded in agreement. “She’s good for you, Jonathan. Maybe having someone special to come home to will make those long missions away a little easier.”

"Speaking of which, how’s that new posting treating you, lad? Heard it’s a bit of a hot zone, eh?” John's uncle boomed across the table.

“It has its challenges,” John replied, taking a long sip of his beer as if to fortify himself for the inevitable round of inquiries. “But it’s good to be back in the field.”

You frowned. Field? Posting? What kind of job involved working in a “field”? And what exactly made it a “hot zone?” You felt more and more confused by the conversation, it was as if they spoke an entirely different language, a language riddled with code words and shared experiences you weren’t privy to.

“That I believe,” his uncle answered, also reaching for his beer as if to toast to a shared understanding. “Bet your rank will get you far, though.”

You felt John tense beside you, his hand tightening around yours, not letting go. His family's casual acceptance of his frequent — and apparently lengthy — disappearances made you increasingly curious. You knew by now he often travelled for work, but something about the way they spoke, the underlying thread of concern laced with pride, hinted at a world you were only just starting to glimpse.

“I imagine those long stretches apart must be difficult, darling,” John's aunt commented, her gaze fixed on you with a sympathy that only deepened your bewilderment. “But I’m sure you’re used to it by now, working in a hospital and all. Those long shifts must be a challenge, too.”

You smiled, still confused about what was going on—but you also saw an opportunity. It was time to take control of the narrative, to steer this conversation into a territory you could navigate — even if it meant bending the truth further than it had already been twisted.

“Speaking of long stretches,” you interjected, shooting John a look that was equal parts challenge and playful invitation. You’d gone from wanting to bolt to wanting to play this game, see how far you could push him, how convincingly you could both lie. “Remember that road trip we took last fall? The one where we got hopelessly lost in the Scottish Highlands and ended up sleeping in the car?”

As you spoke, you noticed that everyone else at the table had dived into their food, the initial round of introductions and polite inquiries fading into a comfortable murmur of conversation. Nan beamed at you both, her fork hovering over a generous slice of shepherd’s pie, her eyes twinkling with the quiet pleasure of seeing her grandson – even a pretend version of him – happy.

Beside you, John stiffened, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of surprise and what you could only interpret as wary amusement. “Ah, yes,” he murmured, his voice low and rich, like velvet draped over steel. “Scotland. Beautiful, isn’t it, love?”

“Beautiful?” you countered, tilting your head and letting out a soft laugh that you were fairly certain sounded far more genuine than it should have. You couldn’t help but admire his quick thinking, the way he effortlessly picked up on your cue and played along. “Those winding Highland roads. They were more treacherous than romantic, if I’m being honest. I was certain you were going to drive us straight off a cliff at least a dozen times.”

His smile widened, revealing a flash of teeth that made something deep inside you melt a little. “I assure you, love, my driving is impeccable. You were simply distracted.” His gaze lingered on your face for a beat too long.

A delicious warmth flooded your cheeks. “Distracted? I seem to recall you being the one with wandering eyes," you countered, your voice dropping to a low murmur as you met his gaze head-on. You weren’t sure if the heightened awareness you felt buzzing between you was a product of the lies you were weaving or something more.

“That’s because you are quite the sight to behold, love,” he said, his voice husky, the words brushing against your senses like a caress.

You stared at him, your mind scrambling to process his words, their unexpected sincerity throwing you off balance. Had he just complemented you?

“You are—” He paused, his gaze sweeping over you, lingering on your chest. He didn’t even try to hide it. You held your breath, waiting, as the air thrummed with a sudden, unexpected intimacy.

“Breathtaking.”

What was he doing? you thought, your heart pounding. Was he still playing the part, or was there something more simmering beneath the surface? And why did the possibility excite you?

The air thickened, the sound of his family’s conversation fading into the background as the world seemed to shrink, the space between you charged with an energy that was impossible to ignore. You weren't sure if you wanted to laugh or lean across the table and kiss him senseless.

Just as you felt yourself leaning into that dangerous impulse, Eleanor cleared her throat delicately.

You both startled, like students caught whispering in the back of the classroom. John's cheeks, you noticed with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction, were flushed a faint shade of pink. Even a man like John wasn't immune to a mother's watchful gaze.

“Those rolls are delicious, dear,” Eleanor commented, and turned to you, her tone light but her eyes sharp with amusement. “Why don't you have one?” 

You reached for a roll, suddenly starving, the earlier tension dissolving into a relieved chuckle as you caught John's eyes. He winked at you, a playful glint in his blue eyes. You winked back, feeling a warmth spread through you caused by the man sitting beside you, a man who, despite your best efforts to resist, was quickly becoming more than just a convenient prop in this game of play pretend.

You'd managed to escape the clutches of the dinner table without completely blowing your cover, even when, at some points, you weren’t so sure how nobody saw right through you. But then came the real challenge — mingling. The party had moved inside the house, and you were separated from John. 

You silently cursed yourself for agreeing to this whole fabricated scenario. What if you told completely different stories to his relatives? What if someone asked you about his work, for God’s sake?

Glasses of port in hand, John’s extended family seemed very determined to catch up on months’ worth of news in one evening. You did your best to smile politely at every occasion, your inner monologue continuously reminding you to simply not say anything stupid.

Suddenly, a very chipper and well-dressed woman intruded on your personal space, waving her phone in front of your face. “You must be John’s girl!” she exclaimed, and before you could even answer, she swiped through numerous photos. “Look at her – isn't she adorable!”

You leaned in, attempting to make eye contact with the child in the photos while subtly taking a step back, her perfume a bit overwhelming. “Absolutely adorable,” you agreed, putting on a wide grin, and the woman beamed. “Oh, I can’t wait to see what children you and John will bring into this world. Aren’t they the greatest thing?”

Children? Your smile faltered. You opened your mouth to respond, to stammer out some vague response about “one step at a time”, but before you could even get a word out, the woman had moved on, already excitedly showing off her offspring to the next unsuspecting relative. 

Note to self: Avoid eye contact with anyone holding a baby photo, you thought, your internal panic rising. This whole “fake girlfriend” thing was rapidly becoming a high-stakes obstacle course, and you weren’t sure you were agile enough to navigate it without falling flat on your face.

You were trying to reach John, a plate of sticky toffee pudding on your plate, wanting to show off that you were going to try his favorite dessert – when a booming voice cut through the chatter, catching your attention. “There he is!” A tall, older man with curly hair approached John and shook his hand with a force that could crush granite. “That last mission you pulled off? Absolute textbook. A captain leading his own task force? The old man would be bloody proud.”

John’s posture stiffened ever so slightly. “Cheers, uncle,” he responded, raising his glass, his gaze darting towards you for the briefest of moments.

Mission? Captain? Task force?

The people around you, completely oblivious to your internal meltdown, continued chatting, casually dropping words like “deployment,” “classified,” “weapons,” and all other sorts of military jargon as if they were discussing the weather.

Suddenly, everything fell into place.

All those late-night departures, when you heard heavy footsteps echo through your shared hallway; the vague explanations about “work trips” when you met him outside your apartment; those calls he received at odd hours, his voice tight, his tone clipped, echoing through your shared walls; those calls that always seemed to coincide with a breaking news report or some global crisis. John, your sweet, infuriatingly attractive, seemingly normal neighbor – was leading a deadly task force.

Not that it was any of your business what he did. He owed you nothing.

Then why did this feel like such a blow? That he didn’t tell you beforehand, throwing you into the midst of his family who were clearly all about that life, and leaving you in the dark, making a complete idiot of yourself?

You had been looking forward to trying the famous dessert all evening, but suddenly, your appetite completely vanished. The plate that you held suddenly felt as appealing as cold porridge.

“Everything alright, love?” John approached, noticing the shift in your mood.

You forced a smile, hoping it was convincing. “Peachy,” you replied. “Just, fascinating, hearing everyone’s stories.” You stabbed the pudding with your spoon, not sure where the feelings of anger came from.

You shoved the plate into his chest, forcing him to take it from you. “I just need some air.” You turned and made your way towards his Nan’s beautiful rose garden.

He’d lied to you.

Well, maybe not lied, exactly. Maybe it was the sudden awareness of the danger that shadowed his every move, who he really was, who he was compared to you.

You had every right to feel foolish, to even agree to such a stupid idea. But betrayal? You had no idea where it came from, it seemed like an overreach for a situation that had been, from the beginning, just a constructed lie.

Stepping out into the cool of the garden, you breathed a sigh of relief. The scent of flowers seemed to calm your racing mind a little, a welcome contrast to all the voices you just escaped. You found your way to a small bench underneath an old oak tree, sinking onto the cool wood, straightening your dress doing so.

You didn’t hear John approach, but then again, stealth was probably part of his many talents. You didn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, stopping right next to you, an arm leaning on the backrest of the bench.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, frustrated by all these emotions you were feeling. “Well, the food is excellent, your grandma is adorable, and I haven’t witnessed any international incidents first-hand - yet. So that’s a win, I guess?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, a welcome contrast to the tension that had been knotting your stomach ever since you’d pieced together the things about his life. You’d grown accustomed to that sound, to the way it rumbled deep in his chest, unexpectedly gentle for a man who, apparently, spent his days navigating a world far removed from yours.

He shifted slightly, settling beside you on the bench. You felt the heat radiating off him in the cool air of the evening, an awareness that lingered even though he wasn’t touching you.

“Look,” he began, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt, a gesture that was strangely endearing on a man who usually was so confident. “My life –” He gestured vaguely towards the party, the house. The unspoken explanation – “ my life is a full-blown, military-grade soap opera ” – hung in the air between you.

“You know,” you interrupted him, turning to face him. “A little heads-up about what you do would have been nice. Especially that it’s such an important thing in your family.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. It wasn’t fair to throw you into that without a warning. I guess because it’s so normal to me, I just completely forgot about it.”

“I’m a nurse, I don’t really specialize in disarming bombs or whatever it is your uncles like to do for fun.”

He laughed then, a full, hearty laugh, that made your heart flutter faster in your chest.

“It’s not funny.” You said, looking away. “And I know I have absolutely no right to feel – ” you struggled to find the right word. 

“To feel –?” he prompted, leaning a little closer.

“Disappointed,” you breathed. “It’s silly, I just felt like I was left out of inside jokes during dinner. I tried so hard to not let this lie slip, but it could have been so much easier if I had known.” You took a deep breath. “So, while I was keeping your plants alive," you added, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice, "You were out there doing what exactly? Neutralizing threats? Saving the world? I missed that chapter in the ‘Good Neighbor Handbook.’”

You couldn’t help the edge that crept into your voice. At first, it had just been a fun little game, a chance to play dress-up and enjoy delicious food. But now, now it felt different. You were, suddenly, uncomfortably aware of just how much you didn’t know about the man sitting beside you. 

The silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the gentle chirping of crickets and the soft rustling of leaves overhead. John stared at you, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

“You probably think I am a complete idiot,” you continued, the words tumbling out in a rush, a jumble of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher. “I'm sorry, I'm being absolutely dramatic –”

The words died on your lips as his hands shot out, cupping your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks with a touch that was both possessive and unexpectedly tender. His gaze held yours captive, those blue eyes burning with a fierce intensity that stole your breath away. And then, without a word, without warning, his mouth crashed down on yours.

His lips were hard, demanding, hungry, devouring yours as if he couldn’t get close enough, his tongue tangling with yours in a desperate, unyielding dance. 

It was primal, raw, untamed. It was the kind of kiss that stripped away the pretence, obliterated the boundaries, and left you gasping for air, your mind reeling, your body aching for something you couldn’t name but craved with every fibre of your being.

Time seemed to stand still — the garden, the party, the lie — it all faded away. There was only the feel of his lips on yours, the light scrape of his beard against your skin. The taste of him was intoxicating, the heat of his body radiating off him in waves.

Eventually, he pulled back, his breath mingling with yours in the night air. His hands lingered, resting on your face, slightly tracing the lines of your jawline. His gaze was wild, eyes dark and burning into you with an intensity that made you want to melt into a puddle.

You stared back, your mind racing. This was the moment the lines blurred. There had been something there — you felt it. It was more than pretend, more than just playing a game. Desire. Interest. Even though you felt like you no longer knew this man at all, you wanted to get to know him all over again. Taste him, touch him — you blinked, trying to collect your thoughts.

“Would you prefer to leave?” John's hand, still warm from its possessive grip on your face, gently brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture both intimate and oddly reassuring.

You shook your head. “It’s your grandma's birthday. You can’t just leave because I feel uncomfortable.”

“I think we’ve both had enough of the party for one night,” he murmured, a quick smile flashing across his face. “I’m going to let her know you aren’t feeling too well. Alright?”

He leaned in again, his lips brushing against your cheek, then, with a low rumble, he whispered in your ear, “Wait here.”

In front of both your apartment doors, the silence was an awkwardly long stretch. It felt like you were both trying to understand what had just happened, unsure where to begin.

“So, um,” he started, then stopped, running a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that you found strangely endearing. “Thank you for coming.”

You nodded and smiled, “Of course. It was nice to get the dust off this dress again.”

He leaned towards you slowly, and your breath hitched. For one heart-stopping moment, you thought he might kiss you again – would he? Was what happened in the garden just an impulsive decision?

But he hesitated, the moment frozen, and there was something indecisive happening between you. But you didn’t mean to push, neither did he.

He cleared his throat and finally spoke. “Good night,” he said, his words careful, as if he were holding back from saying something else.

“Good night,” you echoed, your voice barely a whisper. The small hope that you'd taste him one more time evaporated.

You turned, your hand reaching for your door, keys almost to the lock, when strong hands grabbed you, spinning you around in a dizzying motion. Before you could even register what was happening, his lips were on yours again — silencing all those unspoken doubts and hesitations.

This was real. You felt it; your heart screamed it; the way his mouth was devouring yours, displaying a hunger and desire that shouted it from the rooftops.

Your hands tangled in his hair, holding on for dear life, as his tongue traced the seam of your lips with a possessiveness that made your knees weak. You felt the rumble of his groan against your mouth as he backed you against your apartment door, his body moulding against yours as if he was starving for the feel of you. You were breathless, lost in the heat of his touch, the way his hands roamed your back and finally settled on the curve of your ass.

You realized then that you had always dreamed of kissing this man, silently, secretly, whenever his eyes lingered on yours for a beat too long right there in the hallway. You’d always dismissed those fantasies as wishful thinking, but clearly, he’d been wanting the same.

You heard a click as the lock on your door was turned, and you felt as his hand fumbled with the doorknob behind your back – all while his lips were still on yours, occasionally wandering to kiss your jaw and giving you an opportunity to breathe. He cursed under his breath, and before you even processed what was happening, he shouldered the door open and pushed both of you back into the darkness of your apartment.

The familiar space of your home was suddenly transformed, and John's touch was the compass guiding you. He didn't release you, keeping you close to his body as if you might slip away. With a smooth movement, he shoved the door shut, tossing your keys somewhere onto the floor.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you up flush against him, the gasp that escaped your lips quickly swallowed by his next kiss. He carried you, your legs wrapped around his waist, until he reached your couch, where he gently laid you down, his body hovering over yours, his eyes devouring you, making you feel incredibly vulnerable.

The sofa dipped as he planted his knees left and right next to your legs, and he leaned to hover over you. You were both breathing hard, the only sound in the silent room. The only light illuminating you was the sliver of moonlight spilling through the window above.

“Is this still pretend?” you managed to whisper, your voice a shaky breath.

His eyes locked onto yours, the slight smirk on his face sending a thrill to your core. His hands moved to your hips, deliberately grinding them against his groin. You gasped as you felt the hardness of his arousal pressed against you, hyperaware of the thin fabric separating your most intimate parts.

“Fuck, no,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. He moved his hips again, his hands slowly but intentionally pushing up your dress.

Your skin felt like it was on fire; your head was spinning. 

One of his hands moved up to the line of your dress, and with a rumble in his throat, he pulled the fabric aside, exposing the swell of your breasts to his hungry gaze.

His pupils dilated, his eyes dark and intense, as he stared at you like a starving man presented with a banquet. You'd never been so incredibly turned on, no man had ever made you feel this way— John’s simple gesture of delicately tracing the skin around your nipples made you moan so loudly you immediately threw a hand over your mouth, slightly embarrassed.

“No, let me hear it all. You sing so beautifully, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hand gently moving yours away, his touch a mixture of possessiveness and unexpected tenderness.

"John,” you breathed, your voice a shaky sigh.

“This bloody dress,” he groaned. “Wanted to rip it off you the second I saw you standing at my door.” His voice was raw, unfiltered – gone was the nice, gentle neighbor; this was the Captain coming through, the darker, more commanding side of him that should have scared you, but only served to intensify the desire swirling inside you. You wanted to know all about the man he left behind as soon as he stepped into this building.

“Every fuckin' time I saw you in the hallway, those quick hellos were never enough,” he confessed, one hand tightening on your hip, the other slowly trailing down your skin beneath the hem of your dress. His touch was agonizingly slow, leaving a trail of heat in its wake that made you lose your mind. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His words were so honest, it caught you off guard completely. It must have shown on your face right then, because he smiled in return. “Never thought I’d stand a chance," he admitted. "You always seemed out of reach.”

You frowned. “Out of reach?”

He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Figured I’d never stand a chance against the queue of blokes lining up at your door.”

“John, what? A queue, for me?” You laughed, your disbelief genuine, gesturing towards yourself.

He sighed, sitting up, his fingers playing with the lace trim of your panties as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You’re beautiful, and tonight, I learned it’s inside and out. You're you, and that's fuckin’ wonderful."

You shook your head in disbelief. His words made your entire body tremble.  He wasn’t just looking at your body; he was seeing you. And it felt extraordinary.

He watched you intently, his eyes filled with a longing that mirrored your own. “I kept thinking about what you were hiding underneath those baggy clothes,” he confessed, his voice a husky whisper, his fingers slowly sliding your panties down your legs. He felt you shy away from him a little, a smirk on his face stole your breath, as he pushed your legs apart with his calloused hands. “Like I said, so beautiful.” He whispered, his voice so rough with what you could only describe as lust. It made you shiver.

“You know,” you whispered, “The funny thing is, I thought exactly the same.”

“What do you mean?” You watched as he slowly ran a hand along your thighs. A ragged breath escaped your lungs, and you struggled to continue speaking.

“You’re incredible – there’s no way you didn’t have someone to –”

“To what?” he asked, suddenly stopping his movements, his gaze intense. “Willing to take a chance on a bloke who doesn’t know a thing about flowers or romantic dinners? Who spends more time on planes than in his own flat? Whose idea of a good time involves dodging bullets and disarming explosives?” He let out a self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head.

He was being so completely honest with you, so vulnerable, it sent a sharp pang through your chest. He was seeing you – the real you, hidden beneath the baggy clothes and carefully constructed walls – and for the first time that night, you were truly seeing him . John, who looked like he could bench-press a small car, who radiated an aura of danger as naturally as he breathed. 

He wasn’t some playboy who brought women home every other night, like you’d assumed. He could have any woman he wanted – and yet, here he was, his gaze tracing every inch of your naked body.

He liked you. He’d thought about you.

It felt surreal.

“Best decision I’ve made in a long time,” he murmured, leaning closer. “Asking you, I mean. Thinking I could never have you, and now –”

You held your breath, anticipation coiling in your stomach. “Now what?” you whispered.

“You’re mine.” He growled, and before your brain could even process what happened, his mouth was on your clit, kissing and sucking like he finally got to taste that delicious meal he was promised. 

“Oh god–!” you moaned, your hands instinctively gripping his hair, your nails digging into his scalp. He moaned, and the vibration of it against your skin made your legs twitch uncontrollably.

John’s touch was relentless, his tongue swirling against your most sensitive flesh, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you that were unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. You arched against him, your hips bucking involuntarily, craving more of the delicious friction that was driving you to the edge of madness.

He seemed to sense your desperation, the way your body was begging for something more. He pulled back, his gaze meeting yours, his eyes dark with a possessiveness that both thrilled and terrified you. His hand replaced his tongue, fingers gently caressing your sensitive clit. “Look at you,” he murmured. “So fuckin’ hot.”

“John,” you breathed, you were speaking without any control over it.

“What do you need, love?” he asked, his voice thick with lust, his hand never ceasing its tormenting, exquisite torture against your aching core.

“I – I need –” You couldn't form the words. Your mind was blank, and your body was trembling with need that eclipsed all rational thought.

He seemed to understand, his gaze softening, a knowing smile curving his lips. He rose slightly, his hands moving towards the belt buckle, groaning as he released himself from the confines of his trousers.

He stepped out of his pants, the sound of fabric hitting the floor echoing in the sudden silence. His shirt followed shortly after, and you were captivated. His body was hard, sculpted muscle, his arousal straining against the fabric of his boxers, proof of the desire you'd awakened within him.

You watched, mesmerized, as he slowly peeled off his boxers, his gaze never leaving yours. His hand reached down, fisting himself, and your breath hitched at the sight.

“Still think you’re not attractive to me, love? Look what you’re doing to me,” he let his thumb slowly run over the head of his length, spreading the drop of pre-come that formed there, and he must have known it was teasing you, driving you mad. “Tell me what you want,” he commanded.

You opened your mouth to speak, to voice the desire that was burning through you with the force of a supernova, but the words caught in your throat. All you could manage was a whimper as your fingers were digging into the cushions, hips arching upwards, instinctively seeking out friction you craved.

You felt like if you couldn't have him, you might die.

“Uh-uh.” His hand reached forward to grab the soft flesh of your tits, one after the other, and his thumb brushed a teasing circle around your nipples, the pressure increasing just enough to make you gasp. "I said, tell me what you want.”

“You,” you confessed, the words torn from your very soul. “For God's sake, I fucking need you.”

John's gaze intensified, his eyes dark, and the corner of his mouth twitched, a predatory smirk playing on his lips. He loomed over you like a predator about to claim his prey. With a growl, he leaned down, pressing his mouth on yours, and you could feel his erection pressing between your folds.

One of his hands shot out, cupping the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair, holding you captive. 

“You’re going to get everything you need, love,” he breathed, and followed by his promise, he entered you in a deliberately slow movement, almost torturous. He moaned, so raw and primal, it made you clench around him, and your entire body ignited as he filled you completely. His size, his heat, the intensity of the sensation – it sent your senses into overdrive, causing you to dig your nails into his back.

“Ohhh fuck,” you moaned, your voice a breathless whisper, lost in a world of sensation he'd created with his touch.

He paused, holding himself perfectly still within you, savoring the feel of your body clenching around him and the soft moans escaping your lips.

You whimpered, arching your hips up instinctively, desperate for more, aching for him to erase every thought, every doubt, every worry, with the overwhelming pleasure that throbbed between you.

He chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down your spine, and then he moved. Slowly at first, deliberately drawing out the sensation, his hips rocking against yours, each thrust a slow, agonizingly delicious torture that had you clinging to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your nails leaving trails of fire on his skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice tight with need as he buried himself deeper. “You're so fucking tight – so fucking wet.”

But even in the haze of pleasure, a primal instinct took over. He needed more. He rolled you both over, shifting his weight so that you were straddling his lap, your legs draped over his thighs, your core aligned perfectly with his arousal. He kept his eyes locked on yours as he reached for the hem of your dress, his fingers working quickly, impatiently, to free you from the loosely hanging fabric.

“Now,” his hands found your hips, guiding you closer, his thumbs stroking the sensitive flesh. “Ride me, love.”

You looked down at him, at the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes, the way his chest heaved with each ragged breath, and a surge of confidence, of pure, unadulterated lust, washed over you. You began to move, supporting your weight against him by running your hands through the light fur that dusted his chest. 

His hands dug deeper into your skin as you increased the pace, moving faster, harder, riding his cock wildly, completely lost in the pleasure.

Every movement sent jolts of pleasure through you. He watched you, his gaze never leaving your face, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath as if he were hanging onto your every move.

“Fuck, yes,” he growled, his voice thick with approval. “Like that, love. Ride me hard.”

His words were a primal command, a challenge that sent a thrill through you, making you even bolder, even more daring. You leaned forward and kissed him, biting his lip, drawing a groan from him that resonated deep in your core.

He tasted of salt and desire, the scent of his arousal filling your senses, making you wild. His hands were guiding your movements, matching your intensity, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge of release.

With each thrust, you felt the coil of pleasure tighten inside you, building towards a crescendo that threatened to shatter you both. You moved faster, harder, your body driven by an instinct as old as time itself. His touch was a brand, marking you as his, and the possessive hunger in his eyes as you rode him, almost send you over the edge alone.

He was groaning now, his words a jumble of incoherent pleas and praises, his fingers digging into your flesh as he struggled to maintain control. You felt him tense, the muscles in his thighs and arms bunching beneath your touch, and you knew the storm was about to break.

“Don’t stop,” his voice was raw with need, his gaze burning into you as if he wanted to sear this moment into his soul. “Come for me, love. Let me feel you shatter."

And with one final, earth-shattering thrust, you did.

A shudder ripped through you, a wave of pleasure so intense it stole your breath away. Your walls clenched around him, a thousand tiny sparks of sensation exploding behind your eyelids. Your name tumbled from his lips, a breathless groan, as he held you tighter. You cried out, the sound swallowed by his eager mouth as he captured your lips in a desperate kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over you, leaving you trembling, weak, utterly undone.

After you came down from your high, you watched him intently as he was also struggling on the edge of release. Driven by need and desire, you slowly let his cock slip out of you. He made a sound that sounded animalistic, a groan, low and deep in his chest, an expression of frustration. Your hand moved instantly, your fingers finding his length, circling him, stroking him with a deliberate, unhurried rhythm. Your fingertips traced a feather-light path up the underside of his shaft, lingering at the sensitive ridge just below the head before gliding back down to the base, your thumb brushing teasingly against the swollen vein that pulsed with his arousal.

His head fell back against the cushions, his eyes closed, a ragged breath escaping his lips as you continued to tease him, your touch the only cure for his aching need. You watched him, mesmerized by the play of muscle beneath your hand, the raw power he embodied even at that moment of vulnerability.

“I can't –” His fingers dug into the cushions, his body tensing as if fighting against the tide of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him.

You smiled. The power thrumming between you was intoxicating, addictive. “Can’t what, John?” you whispered, leaning in, your lips trailing a teasing path along the hard planes of his stomach. “Can’t hold back anymore?”

His answer was a strangled groan. His body went rigid, and the wave of pleasure that followed was written all over his face. His hand shot out, not to stop you, but to grip your wrist. His fingers tightened around it, his control started slipping, shattering, as his release washed over him.

You whispered small praises, and watched, fascinated, as his release spurted over your hand in hot, pulsing bursts. His hips were stuttering, his cock, hard, thick in your grasp, throbbed, and the remnants of his release felt warm against your skin. He was completely at your mercy.

You’d never felt this bold, this empowered, this reckless. Before you could overthink it, you raised your hand to your mouth and licked his come off of your fingers.

Your wish to taste him, it couldn’t get any more him than this. Salt, sweat, and something so uniquely his. It made your walls clench around nothing, sending a new wave of excitement through you.

John’s gaze snapped to yours, his eyes wide, a flicker of something dark and possessive flaring in their depths as he watched you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and reached out, his hand resting on your neck, his thumb slowly stroking along your pulse. “You’re something else, you know that, love?”

A nervous giggle escaped your lips. The sudden awareness of your actions, the intimacy of the moment, sent a wave of shyness washing over you. “I, uh,” you trailed off, averting your gaze, unable to meet the intensity burning in his eyes. Your cheeks burned, and you wanted to hide.

John’s hand shifted, his fingers tracing the curve of your jawline. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Don't shy away from me now, sweetheart,” he murmured and softly ran his thumbs over your lips. “Not after that.”

“That was –” You struggled to find the words, your thoughts were a mess. “I've never –”

“Never?” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek, the scent of him filling your senses, making you dizzy.

“Never been that bold,” you admitted, your gaze dropping to his lips, their fullness suddenly a source of endless fascination. “Or wanted someone so intensely.”

A dark smile spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with triumph and something that sent a delicious thrill through you. “Good,” he growled, the word a low rumble that vibrated through you. “Because you're mine now, love. And I'm not about to let you forget it.”

And then, before you could protest – not that you had any intention of doing so – his lips crashed down on yours. It wasn’t gentle. This kiss was a possession, a claiming, a wildfire consuming everything in its path. His hand shot out to grab your neck, holding you close to him.

This really wasn't pretend anymore.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for saying my family shows favoritism towards my baby cousin?

(This is copied from my Reddit drafts because my partner told me tumblr would be better for this and I trust them)

Okay this is a long one so I’m just gonna throw out fake names for everyone and everyone is white middle class Americans

I, Op, 20M, I’m a trans man not accepted by my family. This is relevant

Renee, 20F, my twin sister

Bea, 16F, my younger sister

Lee, 35F, my aunt on my father’s side

Lucas, 2M, my cousin, son of Lee

Suzie, 5F, my cousin, daughter of Lee

My father, 44M, the patriarch of our whole family

My mother, 45F

Grandpa, 76M, paternal grandpa, previous patriarch

Grandma, 74F, paternal grandma

So I’m sending this in on Christmas Day of 2023. For some context, I still live at home, but it’s more of a roommate situation now that I’m an adult. Renee lives on her out-of-state college campus but visits for holidays, and Bea is still a high schooler. Lee, her children, and her husband who isn’t relevant to this (I love my uncle, we just literally never talk) live across the country. My father is losing the battle with cancer and can’t travel, so we had two separate christmases this year, one with my immediate family and one with Lee. Grandma and Grandpa went to Lee’s, which was awesome for me because that meant I got to avoid them this year!

As the character list above states, I’m (one of) the oldest of the five grandkids with my cousins being born a lot later than me and my sisters. My family is a traditional WASP family and staunchly conservative with Aunt Lee actively being a cop right now while my parents and Grandpa served in the military. Growing up undeniably queer was hilarious, I know. But the family dynamic wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, my family did a good job of trying to hide the fact that Renee was the favorite child lol, but that was more on the basis of her having the same traditional values that they do until Aunt Lee had Suzie, then she obviously became the favorite. Fine by me, she’s an adorable girl and I love spoiling her. Also, ACAB does apply for Aunt Lee for being complacent in this system, it’s not just the most relevant part of the story besides explaining how she fits into the family dynamic

But then Lee had Lucas a few years later and the focus in the family shifted to him. At first, it was baby fever making everyone dote over him (and I’m guilty of this too) but after a while, I realized that the fever hasn’t died down. If we had family reunions, everyone would flock to Lucas and I would be the one watching Suzie. For a toddler, she’s a great conversationalist, but it was still sad to see all her aunts and uncles and cousins showering her baby brother with attention and not her. And then the comments started. That my father would only refer to Lucas as “my nephew” even when talking directly to Lee (unhinged to witness in person). That Grandpa was so happy to finally have a grandson (felt great). The lady-killer comments and guessing what profession he’s gonna go into based on how chubby of a baby he is (the money’s on Linebacker, little dude is built like a truck). Stuff like that

None of these comments were ever made about Suzie when she was born, and I really don’t want to admit that it’s because Lucas is a boy, but thats the only answer I can think of when trying to understand the favoritism. Lucas is showered in gifts and love and while I know newborns need that, Suzie received nowhere near this much attention. Lee’s husband doesn’t go to family functions because he works full time, but I heard Suzie mumble at Thanksgiving last month that she wanted to go home to daddy. It broke my fucking heart, so I called him and she got to FaceTime with my uncle until my phone died

At this point, I’m not even upset that the family ignores my obvious trans-ness as I’m over a year on T (paid for by myself too) in favor of my boy cousin. I’m upset that Suzie is getting left out of the fawning while she’s still super young and she could grow up resenting Lucas because of it.

Anyways, so this morning we opened gifts as an immediate family and I got to FaceTime my significant other as they unboxed their gift from me and we were having a good time until my dad FaceTimes Grandpa. Grandpa answers and Dad immediately asks how his nephew is. Lucas is pushed in front of the phone and all I can hear is asking about how Lucas is, is Lucas talking yet, is Lucas reading yet. I manage to squeeze my head in and ask about Suzie and Lee’s voice off camera says that “oh she’s fine, just snobbish.” Snobbish? A five year old?

And here’s where I’m probably the Asshole. Honestly, I’m looking between ESH and JAH here, but would perfectly understandable if tumblr decides YTA. My response to Lee’s comment was: “well maybe she wouldn’t be if everyone didn’t pick Lucas as the family favorite.”

My dad smacked me upside the head, Renee and Bea got really pissed off, and the FaceTime went quiet until it was cut off and Grandpa called back to talk to Dad privately. Bea called me an asshole and while my Mom got onto her for her language, Mom agreed that I was.

My dad came back from the phone and did the silent point towards his bedroom, y’all with shitty parents know the one. Because I’m twenty fucking years old and pay RENT here, I shook my head, grabbed my keys, and went to go hang out with my significant partner and work friends. We had a great time and I’m currently in the car with my significant other while typing this. I’m gonna spend the night at their place and go back in the morning to see how bad the damage is. My significant other says I was justified in what I said, but two of my work friends (one who’s a Cishet guy who grew up in a similar household and another who’s a new dad with his own son) say that what I said was uncalled for and rude. They explained that I had no right to weaponize Lucas and Suzie like that and I understand that. I’m just tired of Suzie being neglected and, selfishly I know, I’m tired of how my identity is ignored as well

So, tumblr, AITA?

TL;DR, My two year old cousin is the “only” grandson in the family. The family ignores my male identity and my baby cousin’s five year old sister to fawn over the two year old. Am I The Asshole for pointing this out point blank in front of the whole family on Christmas morning?

What are these acronyms?

[itsphoenix0724]

omg omg omg i’m so obsessed with leander x reader, please could there be more??? maybe where they all talk it out and the parents really see how inlove they are and gives them their blessing. So now they don’t have to hide the relationship and everytime Leander and Eris visit, she jumps in his arms and hug him. And her siblings are like ” ew we get it. ” and reader says ” i don’t even care enough to talk back, I love him too much”

and she realizes it’s the first time she says I love you to Leander and she blushes and he looks at her with so much love and he says i love you too, and leanders mother and feyre just look at them with awe. Even rhys and eris seem happy for them, and all the cousins just make fun of them.

The Fawn and Her Lion (Leander Vanserra x Reader)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 840

A/N: Hi love thank you so much for requesting! I genuinely love writing Acotar Next Gen so much, I'm sorry it took so long! I'm sorry it's a short one, but I hope you enjoy none the less! Feel free to visit again <3

Political meetings surprisingly became one of your favorite times of the year. Not because you particularly cared about court relations but because it was an excuse to see Leander. You pinned your curls back with pins of rubies, donning the blood-red dress. Aurelia had come bounding in and out of your room, opening your closets and jewelry boxes. You didn’t even care about the mess she was making this time, your only focus was on getting to see your boyfriend. It still felt unreal to you that you could call him that openly, that you could scream to every corner of Prythian that Leander Vanserra was yours and no one else’s. 

“Darling,” Your father knocks on your door, and creaks it open with your permission. “Are you ready to go?” You stand from your vanity and turn to face your father, whose eyes shine like flecked starlight. He cups your cheeks in both of his hands, “You look so beautiful, just like your mother. You kids are growing so fast.” He shakes his head, looking at your mother who appears behind him arm and arm with Nyx and Aurelia. 

“What is taking the two of you so long,” Your mother drawls, raising an eyebrow at her mate. 

“Nothing dearest.” He turns, “We’re ready now, yes?” He looks at you and you nod. Nyx releases himself from your mother’s hold and links his arm with yours. 

“Come now sister, we mustn’t keep lover boy waiting too long.” Nyx mocks in your ear, You see Aurelia snickering behind her hand. 

“You’re just angry you’re all alone Nyxie. Maybe you should finally settle down,” You taunt back, nudging him in the ribs with your elbow. 

“And leave the ladies of Prythian to grieve my absence. No thank you, little sister, I won’t be shackling myself anytime soon,” Nyx sends you a feral grin that makes you roll your eyes before his night-drenched power washes over you. You appear in the crowded living room of the townhouse, all your cousins and aunts spread out left to their own devices. Everyone is here tonight, even your Uncle Azriel’s mate who doesn’t usually attend court meetings. You sit with the twins as you wait the tortuous hour for the High Family of Autumn to arrive. You feel the spark of power and you turn to see Eris, his mate, and both of his children. Leander’s eyes immediately find yours and it takes every fiber in your being to stop yourself from jumping into his arms. You let him say his introductions and your parents take their leave before you stand to rise and he wraps you up in his arms, lifting you off of your feet with one strong movement. You spy Cordelia silently saying her hellos to Pandora over his shoulder, and you’re just about to say something when Leander pulls your face down to press a kiss to your lips. 

“I’ve missed you, Fawn.” He mumbles, barely pulling himself away from you long enough to mutter the words. He’s wearing Night Court black tonight, which makes you feel like a thousand birds are unrestrained in your chest. Leander smiles at you and you want to swallow it whole. Not seeing each other for months clearly has taken its toll on both of you. 

“I’ve missed you too Leo,” You smile against his mouth, ready to kiss him again, when you hear your brother miming throwing up so hard he loses his balance and almost spills his drink all over Cassandra’s dress. You level Nyx with your fiercest glare, but it doesn’t do much. 

“We get it already, you both are very much deeply infatuated with each other, can we please move on now?” Cassandra pipes leaning back against the couch she’s chosen as a sanctuary for the night.  Leo’s cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink which makes you want to push him until they light cherry red. 

“I don’t even care,” You cup his cheeks in your hands before brushing back the russet curls that fell into his eyes. “I love him too much to be bothered by your teasing,” You throw back over your shoulder before you even realize your words.  It’s your turn to blush when the gravity of what you just said has hit you. Leander stares at you like you’ve just hung the moon as he smiles at you like sunshine. 

“You love me?” He questions cupping the side of your jaw with one warm hand, his magic stirring under his skin. 

“Well, I thought that would be obvious,” a feline grin splits across your lips as he rushes forward to kiss you again. 

“I love you too,” The words pour over you like melted chocolate, warming your entire body from the inside out. You’re lost in caramel eyes when Nyx starts again with the aggressive gagging. This time it makes you laugh, and you tuck your face into the crook of Leander’s neck breathing in the smell of cinnamon and allspice before you join the rest of your family. 

[adrunkskeletonsduck]

May I please request some Anakin Skywalker x jedi! reader, she’s from earth and she met Anakin during their padawan years. (y/n) has a different Jedi master, they're always excited to see each other after training. A few years later (y/n) and Anakin went to earth to visit (y/n)’s parents at Christmas. Anakin doesn’t know what Christmas is.

Anakin is very much welcome to her home, (y/n)’s parents treated Anakin like their own. (y/n) and Anakin spent time with one another and got together in the end.

honestly we all know Anakin needs some love and a place to call home. Thank you sm for the request!

Hᴏᴍᴇ

➜ Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x reader

➜ Synopsis: Christmas time was something you treasured greatly. Whether it be the gentle caress of the white wisps snow on the once sullen ground or the warmth of the crackling flames casting winding shadows along the house, it was a time you missed greatly. The holiday had been reduced to a far away memory during your time at the temple and now you presented the council a thinly veiled plea to return to your homeworld of earth to bear witness to the celebration after 15 years. Only this time you will bring a peice your new home to the familiarity of your former life.

➜ Warnings: Gn!reader, fluff

➜ Word Count: 2.6k

➜ Notes: I’m abt to hit 100 followers soon and I want to do an event but idk what to do, so pls send some ideas 🫰🏽. Also I’m so sorry for my inactivity last week and this week, I'm just super busy and in all honesty unmotivated asf 😭. Also i got a user name, hehehehe i love it sm, you better like it to >:(

Sᴛᴀʀᴡᴀʀs Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

You remembered your early life on Earth. You remembered playing outside with your friends, coming home caked in mud to be scolded by your mother before she would push you into the shower and help clean you up. You remembered dressing up for Halloween, you remembered watching your favorite channels on nickelodeon and small bits of elementary school. Playing on the swings, talking to your teachers, and getting into petty arguments with classmates. You even remembered when the Jedi had knocked on your door and you agreed to go with them, you remembered the confusion at their words, and how you stood by your mother as they spoke to her.  

A Jedi?  

Your favorite and most prominent memory's, however, where around Christmas. You always were reminded of them as the year neared winter and the air grew cold. You often found yourself replaying them in your head during this time. The smell of freshly baked cookies every Christmas eve, running around with your cousins as you waited for dinner to be served while your aunts and uncles talked amongst themselves, sipping wine or beer. You remembered willing yourself to sleep, eager to wake up the next morning and see what Santa had left you under the Christmas tree.  

It was nearing the middle of December when finally, Anakin convinced you to ask the council about a visit, he had been listening to you talk about the tradition for years and could tell how badly you wanted to go back and experience it all again. The council, although hesitant, agreed and aloud you one other person to take with you for security measures, which you quickly decided would be Anakin since he was your closest and oldest friend in the order.  

The two of you were planned to arrive the week of Christmas, and come back the day after, which gave you plenty of time to take part in the festivities and catch up with old friends. Although you wouldn’t have minded one more day. You were very anxious about how this would go; you hadn't spoken to your parents or anyone from your home world since you had been taken, and the anxiety had been eating at you for days. 

What if they didn’t recognize you? What if they were angry at you for not reaching out? What if they were scared of you now that you were a true Jedi? What if they had moved on and forgotten you while you had clung to memories of them? The list of things that could go wrong only got longer with each passing moment that you and Anakin raced through hyperspace, and the worry seeped into your force signature.  

“I’m sure everything will turn out fine,” Anakin tried to assure you from where he sat next to you in the pilot's seat, but you just shook your head 

“I haven't seen any of them in years, I mean so many things could go wrong! Like, what if we bring the war to them!” you exclaimed, a new horror washing over you. It was Anakins turn to shake his head now,  

“The council gave us a ship with some of the best cloaking technology in the galaxy, the separatists couldn’t follow us out here if they tried. Besides I highly doubt they will turn their attention to a planet so far out.” You never understood how Anakin seemed to be able to soothe your nerves in a way no one else could. Well, you sort of understood, it was probably the small – massive – crush you had had on him since you were padawans at work.  

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding at his words, he was right. There was no reason to worry. “No, you're right, I need to get it together,” Anakin chuckled at your words in agreement, beginning to flip switches in the ship.  

“Alright were exiting hyperspace, buckle up.” You did as you were told, taking a deep breath as you exited hyper space and your home world came into view.  

You had only seen Earth from space once, and that was when you were leaving for the Jedi temple, the Jedi who found you had told you that you were the only force sensitive child from your planet and answering all your questions as you sped away from your home world, watching the planet get smaller and smaller and then disappear as you entered hyperspace. Other than that, though, you had only seen it from the satellite photos that your teacher showed you when you were studying the solar system. 

 It was a truly a beautiful sight, one that made a feeling of awe and joy wash threw you the minute you caught your first glimpse of it. Anakin glanced at you, a smile curling at his lips at your expression, content to see you so happy.  

You were here. You were home.  

The rest of the trip was spent in a comfortable silence until you landed, making sure to hide the ship well, despite its cloaking capabilities. Lucky for you, they lived in the country side in a small town, so there was plenty of forest to wedge the ship in between and under. You kept it not far from your parents' house in case the two of you needed to make an emergency escape. You vaguely remembered where your parents lived, you had faint memories of the exterior of the house but didn’t know the actual address. The council had somehow dug up all the quadrantes and such you needed though and supplied you with them, but you were a bit wary of their accuracy. 

You and Anakin didn’t exactly have very earth appropriate clothes to change into, so you did get weird looks from the locals while walking through town, especially because you were practically skipping out of delight, but you couldn’t seem care less. The excitement of being back here, back home, after such a long time distracted you from their judgmental eyes and Anakin didn’t think he had ever seen you so happy in his life as he watched you point out yet another area, place, or name that had a story tied to it, nodding as you explained it to him enthusiastically. 

The minute you stood in front of the house, you instantly knew that it was the right one, you could feel the two faintly familiar force signatures inside and the beaten down porch and door mat instantly rung a bell of familiarity. You stopped in front of the door, taking a shaky breath and trying to shove all your anxieties down. You looked to Anakin for support, your expression telling him everything he needed to know as he took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze and giving you an encouraging nod. You pursed your lips, your hold on his hand tightening ever so slightly as you brought your other hand to the wood of the door and gave it a firm knock.  

Once 

Twice 

Three times 

It took a painfully long moment before you began to hear the padding of footsteps getting closer, and then stop as the door swung open, squealing on its hinges as it opened harshly. Your eyes widened as you looked at her, your mother, for the first time in fifteen years, it felt like a dream. Your breath hitched in your throat, at the sight of her.  

“I already told you peo-” she started, but cut herself off at the sight of you. Recognition flashing through her eyes as she looked at you. You didn’t give her time to process that you were actually there, throwing yourself at her, and wrapping your arms around her tightly. Tears filled in both your eyes, and she slid her arms around you.  

“Welcome home honey...”  

___ 

It had been five days since you’d arrived, now you sat cozied up on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket in front of the lit fireplace and a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hand, enjoying the sight of your family all together once again. You’d already caught up with everyone earlier, introduced yourself to some of the younger cousins that were a relatively new addition to your family and you’d never met before, as well as your oldest cousin's new husband and your new niece. You’d talked to your aunts and uncles, exchanged tight hugs with them and watched as they looked at you in disbelief. It had felt good knowing that they had missed you as much as you had missed them.  

You watched as your relatives chattered around you, passing around neatly wrapped and bagged presents as they played white elephant on the floor of the living room. The Christmas tree glowed with colorful lights in the corner of the room, and Anakin chatted happily away with one of your uncles. He’d fit in nicely with your family, being excepted with open arms by everyone. Although it had taken him a minute to warm up to your parents, they both had been patient with him, and you could tell he appreciated it greatly. He especially seemed to appreciate the warmth and hospitality that your mother had shown him, and you hopped it had eased the pain of losing his own, even if it was the smallest of comfort to him, you were glad he knew that he had a home here.  

“So,” your mother started, sitting down next to you and pulling the blanket over herself, breaking you out of the trance you were in, “how have the Jedi been treating you these past few years?” 

The entire time since you’d arrived, she had been talking about it like you had simply been gone for a year or two in college, not for fifteen years in a boarding school for people with powers. None the less you smiled at her as you answered, the joy of being home had rooted itself deep in your emotions this past week, you weren't sure it would ever leave. Even after you left.  

“Well, the best it can treat us in the midst of a galactic war,” you joked. She furrowed her brow at your answer, obviously not amused by your joke, “Of course it’s nothing you have to worry about though,” you added quickly in an attempt to reassure her.  

“That doesn’t sound ver-” she started, a deep frown on her face, but she was quickly cut off by Anakin who had seemingly appeared out of thin air behind you and clasped his hands onto your shoulders, sending you a wink which made your face heat up as he spoke,  

“I wouldn’t worry too much about this girl, she knows what she's doing on the field and with a saber.” Your mother, however, didn’t seem very reassured at his words. “Besides,” he continued, “I’ve got her back.”  

She looked at you, a raised eyebrow and motherly judgment painted on her face as if to silently ask ‘just friends?’ for the millionth time that week. You answered with a role of your eyes and a weak glare. She just chuckled, getting up from her spot on the couch, a smile on her face to replace the look of worry that had previously been there as she looked at Anakin.  

“Well, I’m sure she’s in good hands then,” she said pausing as she caught Anakin glancing at you, and a small smirk tugged at her lips, “I’ll give you two some space.” Then she turned, walking out to the dining room were your uncles and aunts sat with glasses of wine and an endless list of topics for conversation.  

“Have you packed yet?” Anakin asked as he took the spot next to you, and you sighed at his words, leaning into him ever so slightly, chasing his warmth.  

“No...” you replied, without looking at him and continuing to watch the game of white elephant that was beginning to come to a close. Anakin hummed at your words,  

“You probably should tonight, we leave at noon tomorrow.”  

“Yeah,” you agreed, “I probably should.” Your hold on your cup of coco tightened, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Anakin, and neither did the gentle sadness that began to roll of you in waves at the talk of leaving. He understood what it was like all too well, and he didn’t want to be the reason you spent the last of a very enjoyable night in sadness, so he cleared his throat and got up, extending a hand out to you.  

“Why don’t we take a short walk?” he suggested, and you nodded taking his hand and letting him help you up. Throwing on a coat, you told your mom that you and Anakin were going to step out for a minute, and you’d be right back.  

Shutting the door behind you as you followed him out, you told him, “I don’t want to think about leaving right now,” he nodded in understanding.  

“Then we don’t have to talk about it.” You didn’t let go of his hand as you walked down the drive way and off the property to begin on your route around the block. At that moment he was like your anchor, keeping you grounded in the moment, and bringing you back to reality. Reminding you that right now you were still on Earth, that for now the Jedi, the war, the Sith, all of it, didn’t exist. For now, all that existed was you and him, here, in this moment. Neither of you would have had it any other way.  

Soon the two of you found yourselves at the park, laying side by side in the fields of grass and staring up at the sky, fingers still threaded together. Anakin was the one to break the silence,  

“y/n?”  

“Yeah?” 

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted and you sucked in a sharp breath at his confession. There was a long pause of silence were the air seemed to become thick as butter, and everything seemed to stop.  All of a sudden you were back at the temple, seeing him for the first time. Your heart was racing at every word he spoke or glance your way, and you were stuttering and tripping over your words while your cheeks flamed a deep red as you tried to talk to him.  

You could feel Anakins nerves as he waited for a response from you, while you contemplated your answers. These feelings were against the code, and admitting them would be your final act of treason. You weren't sure you cared at the moment though. Anakin was already looking at you when you turned to him and pressed your lips to his.  

The kiss was sudden and unexpected, and you could tell he hadn't been prepared for it by the way he froze, every muscle in his body tensing and you couldn’t see it but his eyes were wide in shock as well. But after a moment, his heart beat slowed back to a normal pace and his eyes slipped shut and he relaxed into you, kissing you back, his lips molding against yours in an endless flurry of kisses, each more passionate then the last. His lips were soft and you could taste the lingering sweetness of desert on them as you kissed him.  

He was the one to pull away, making you whine quietly and lean forward, chasing his lips. He chuckled at the sound of displeasure you let out, a signature smirk tugging at his lips which made you roll your eyes at and push yourself up.  

“Common,” you said, reaching a hand down to him, “we should start getting home.” He took your hand graciously, letting you help him to his feet as he agreed with you.  

“Yeah, we should.”  

[classypiratevoid]

Imagine if | reader x avengers 

| Imagine if | you x avengers | sorry if anything’s spelt wrong | movie spoilers 

Imagine: Loki needed a place to hide out and you needed a roommate. One thing led to another and the both of you started hooking up, frequently, until one day he left without a word, you never knew who he was until the New York instant.

Imagine: Kong asking you to play video games with him, neither one of you are really good at it so you both get bullied when you had your online matches. Thor always had to stand up for both of you

Imagine: going to a small mom and pop diner with Tony Stark after a long day and eating some burgers and milkshakes. neither one of you really talking about how tough the day was, instead just covering it up with jokes.

Imagine: being Venoms host.

Imagine: getting drunk at a 4th of July Festival and waking up the next day to see you hooked up with Steve Rogers.

Imagine: being the only person who didn't forget Peter Parker.

Imagine: you were married to Pietro Maximoff and Wanda had to tell you he died.

Imagine: (similar to the one above) what if you were the one that took Vision’s life in Infinity War, (just like she did) and had to tell Wanda what you did.

Imagine: (Marisa Tomei version of Aunt May) Aunt May was your mom and Peter was your younger cousin, after he came to live you it didn’t take long to figure out his secret. Of course he doesn’t know you know.

Imagine: the Falcon rescuing you from a burning building or something, he wraps his arms tight around Your waist as you hold on for dear life around his neck. “don’t worry you’re safe now” he says as he takes flight, “I know i’m just not too keen on flights.” You say as you shut your eyes tight and bury your head in his shoulder. “Well, it’s a short flight.” He says with a small smirk as he lands back on the ground, letting you go.

Imagine: Bruce Banner, teaching you Brazilian Jujitsu.

Imagine: irritating Natalia Romanoff every time you have a minor inconvenience with your phone or laptop, like, “hey Natalia can you help me with this? I think my phone is broken. It’s-…” then she just cuts you off with a tired look on her face. like, “let me see it” and all she ever does is turn your phone off and on before handing it back to you but you still show boat it. like, “oh my gosh thank you so much”

Imagine: going on the shopping spree with Pepper Potts after her and Tony got in a fight.

Imagine: you babysitted Cassie way before Scott Lang went to jail and after he got out Margaret asked if you would come with her for a supervised visit. you agreed to it not thinking much of it until that night when Scott friend requested you online, It started off with just catching up as old friends then wanting to know how his daughter was over the years. You knew you would be lying if you said you didn’t find it a little bit attractive how much he cared for Cassie, despite everything he really was a good dad.

Imagine: estranging playlists with Bucky. Like, once every two weeks, you guys give each other a new playlist, his is always filled with some of his favorite songs from 1917-1945 as for you. You always give him playlists filled with songs from 1990-2024.

Imagine: kissing Eddie Brock and then venom takes over and starts French kissing you

Imagine: always making cat puns in front of Nick fury because you know how he lost his eye.

I plan on making a X-Men version 😘and possibly a smut version 🙈

[mrs-johansson]

Chapter 5: Avengers: Age of Ultron - Two Ghosts

Part 1:

“When can I meet her?” Dad asked as he came down to have lunch in my lab. “Soon. I want her to settle in, and I want her to have the hearing aid.” “And how’s that going?” He stood up and walked up to the table. “I’m just gonna run some more tests and we’ll see, maybe next week you two could meet,” I looked up at him.

“How is it that your friends have seen Katarina sooner than I would?” Dad had been trying to meet Katarina for months, but with James at the house and the setting time, I thought she could have a little more time. “Because they are not her relatives biologically. Clint helps me with babysitting and Natasha is… Natasha. Believe me, she’s worth the wait. I swear she has your attitude sometimes even though you two haven’t even met yet.” The proud and surprised look on his face was funny but also such a great feeling to see. “Okay show me some pictures then.”

***

The last couple of months have been hectic. Hiding James has been really difficult, but mostly for him. He couldn’t really leave the house without assistance and he was bothered by that obviously. Even though he’s very introverted and a house buddy, he wanted to get out there and explore the world on his own, which was not possible at these times.

So he stayed at home most days, spending time with Katarina and learning from within the four walls. He watched the news every morning and evening, surfed the internet for information, and read about the time he had missed.

We once visited the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, where he learned about himself and the war, but mostly about the Captain America we know now. James was so eager to know everything and be present that sometimes he got lost in what he actually wanted. He still didn't have a plan for what would come next. I tried everything to make him look further but he got stuck.

Meanwhile, Katarina was growing fast. She’s not even one and she has the abilities and looks of a 3 year old. She knows sign language to a full extent, which she learned in just a couple of weeks.

It is incredible to see how she’s developing day to day, but not gonna lie I miss the previous steps. I wanted to see her open her eyes for the first time, roll over for the first time and I’m not even gonna mention the first steps. I know I complain about great things but these are also great things to miss out on.

When I work, she’s in kindergarten from Monday to Thursday and on Fridays, she stays at Barton's. She already sees Clint and Laura as her uncle and aunt, and the kids as her cousins. They treat her like family, which I appreciate out of this world.

And Natasha, she’s here on most Saturdays, when Katarina is just full of joy. Nat is definitely her favorite, apart from me of course. They bonded on a deep level and it brings me happiness but also so much pain to know that we couldn’t work out.

Maybe if it wasn’t for the break-up, we would raise Katarina together. But it’s never perfect, is it?

On Fridays, which is today, I usually bring dinner to Clint’s house and we have dinner together.

Pulling up to the farm, I could see the kids and Clint playing outside, kicking a ball around. Katarina’s dark brown hair was gently braided into two little braids, and the pants she had on were basically dirty as the ground. She enjoys being outside since at home we only have a flat still.

The Bartons looked up to the sound of the car and Clint alerted Rina that I’d arrived, and she looked my way too. Her attention left the ball imminently and with those little feet, she started running towards me.

Seeing this was something that made me appreciate every little thing. She was getting older by the second and I wasn’t gonna miss one more minute with her.

I got out of the car and quickly rounded it before picking her up.

“Hi baby,” I gave a kiss to the side of her head, then put her back on the ground and kneeled in front of her. “Your hair is so pretty! Did Laura make it?” I asked. “No, Natasha.” Nat’s here? “Wow, she’s so cool, right?” She nodded. “How was today? Did you have fun?” “Yes, we painted. I made you something,” she took my hand and insisted on getting inside.

Getting the take-out dinner I picked up Katarina and made our way towards Clint and the kids. “Hey guys, I got us Chinese today,” I greeted the three of them. “Copper, why don’t you guys take the food inside? We’ll be there in a minute,” I gave him the bags of food and the three of them walked in, Katarina grabbing a hold of Lila’s hand.

“What is she doing here? She hasn't been returning my calls for over a week. And I know she wasn’t on a mission,” I turned to Clint. He looked inside then at me with a sigh. “I don’t know why she didn’t talk to you then, but now she’s here to talk. It seemed pretty serious,” he said. “Great, just perfect.”

Walking inside, the kids already settled around the table, Laura and Natasha unpacking the boxes. “Hi,” I said. Nat picked up her head and I couldn’t describe the look she gave me. “I was just saying the other to Clint, how much I craved Chinese but he didn’t get me any,” Laura’s voice made me look away. “Because it was in the middle of the night and we live on a farm,” Clint stepped in. “I’m glad your craving will be fulfilled,” I said.

Grabbing the plates, I had to step next to Natasha. “Nat,” I nodded her way. “Y/n.” The urge to read her mind was so tempting but I promised everyone that I won’t use it on them. “You haven’t been returning my calls,” I said as I reached the shelf.

“It wasn’t a phone conversation that I wanted to talk about,” she said. Voice tense, body language just strict. “We can talk after I put Katarina to sleep.”

***

Katarina insisted that Natasha would be the one who stays with her until she falls asleep, so I did the dishes so that Laura could relax a little, but she kept my company throughout.

“Dinner was weird,” she said. “What do you mean?” “You and Nat. What’s going on?” I stared at the water as it flowed through the sink. “It’s been strange for a while. She’s dictating herself from me, from us really. She canceled last week’s Saturday and hasn't answered my calls since. Of course, Rina asked for her, because she’s obsessed with her. But nothing. And last week too, like she was distracted at all times. And if it was work she would definitely tell me.” “Maybe she’s seeing someone,” she casually threw it out there. “You think?” I stopped the tap and dried my hands. “What else could it be? It’s Natasha, you and work were the only option she could be occupied with, but there’s no you anymore, and if it’s not work… Maybe she found someone,” the sad smile on Laura’s face was something strange. I know she loved us together but I didn’t think she would actually prefer us over other relationships. But she also probably knew something.

“So, can we talk?” Natasha walked down the stairs, and both of us looked her way. “Yeah, let’s go outside. Good night, Laura,” I said to the woman. “You too guys.”

As we made our way outside I played all the scenarios in my mind about what could happen. Maybe she did find someone and wants to disappear from my life, or maybe it is a work thing.

We were a great distance from the house and we didn't talk a word on the walk. Then she stopped at almost the end of the lot. “I know about Barnes,” her voice was filled with anger. “And?” I shrugged it off, trying to act cool.

“Y/n, are you insane?” She stepped closer, veins popping out on her neck. “He is dangerous! And you let your daughter around him? There’s a chance that he’s gonna be that killing machine again, and what are you gonna do then, huh? Or what if HYDRA finds him? That’s why you won’t let anyone over to your place! And what about Steve? You’re just gonna let him suffer and look for him when you know damn well that he sleeps in your bed, eats your food, and plays with your daughter every day.” “You have no idea Natalia how fucking hard it is for me! If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have found Katarina. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for him!” By now we were yelling at each other and I was glad the house was far away.

“I’ve been trying to help him settle in, to come up with a plan. But nothing. He doesn’t even want a glance at the future. For the past several decades he wasn’t Barnes, he wasn’t the Bucky Steve knows… But he’s trying to be the old him. He wants to learn and be human,” I explained but as I spoke she only got angrier. “How are you falling so easily into this? Y/n how can you be so naive after everything that happened?” Her hands spread to her sides, confusion hitting her face. “Naive?” I scoffed. “Every single day when I go home, I think he’s not gonna be there anymore. That he left, that they took him. For months I’ve been living on the fucking edge, scared to leave my daughter alone with him, scared to fall asleep next to him. I’m not naive, I just don’t want to make him feel even worse,” I said and turned around to walk back.

“No.” She simply said and I looked back at her. “No, you are just scared to be alone. You can’t be alone and you just won’t admit that,” she caught up to me and stood right in front of me. “Don’t ever talk to me about hating to be alone. I became a mother overnight, and I wasn’t gonna do this alone.” “But you are not alone,” Natasha took hold of my hand. But I took it away and shook my head. “I am.” “Y/n don’t shut me out now,” the want in her eyes was something I missed every day but I couldn’t let this happen. “I’m not shutting you out, but we talked about this. I can’t do this, not now… James is there and Rina, I-“ I stumbled over my words, didn’t even know what I wanted to say. “James…” She said quietly like she knew immediately. With the look she gave me, she definitely knew.

“You guys are a thing, aren’t you?” Her shoulders dropped. “We’re not a thing,” I looked away, shaking my head. “Oh don’t fucking lie to me. I know you, Y/n. You two are fucking for sure,” she got mad again, but mostly she looked disappointed. “What if we do? You have absolutely no right to question who I sleep or don’t sleep with. We broke up, Natasha. We ended things because it didn’t work. I’m sorry that I’m trying to move on. It hurts me like shit, that he’s not you, that it’s not us! I wanted you, Nat!” I yelled at her. She has no right to speak to me like that. “I wanted all of you. We had each other and now we don’t. So you don’t get to decide what I do with my life.”

***

“Good morning everyone,” Steve walked into the meeting room with Maria following him. Files in her hands she handed one to everyone. The team gathered around the table, while Steve presented our next mission.

“As you all know, we found another HYDRA Research Base. It’s in Sokovia, Europe. It is the base where we tracked Loki’s scepter and the plan is to retrieve it. The files have everything you need to know before we take off. Tomorrow morning we leave at 5. Any questions?” He looked around and everyone was silent. “Alright, see you tomorrow.”

***

Taking Katarina out of her seat, we made our way upstairs right away. It’s how the days go, in the mornings I drop her off at kindergarten and after work I get her and we go home to James.

After the meeting, I went to Stark Industries and we worked on some new projects and I finally finished Rina's hearing aid so I’m very excited to try it with her.

Opening the front door, I noticed the flat was awfully quiet. James usually is always on the couch when we get home, watching the news but now he isn't. The tv was turned off, no sign of James in the living room.

I shut the door behind me and put Katarina down, who took off to her room immediately. “James?” I called out once. Maybe he’s sleeping. I checked the kitchen and the balcony, but nothing. Bathroom empty. Then I made my way to the bedroom to see it was also without him in it.

And then I noticed an envelope. Lying on his pillow. My heart dropped and I couldn’t think of anything else other than he had left.

With shaky hands, I took hold of the envelope and saw my name written on it. Opened it and saw the handwritten letter. I sat down on the edge of the bed and read it.

Hey Doll,

We both knew this was coming for a long time now, but I think neither of us thought that it woulduld actually happen. I had to leave. For your and Katarina’s safety. I am a liability and it wouldn’t be safe for you two if I had stayed. I also didn’t want Steve to find me, he had enough trouble with me the last time we saw each other.

I won’t contact you and I don’t want you to contact me. The only communication I want is Katarina. I’d like you to send pictures to the address at the bottom every month. Just one picture of Katarina.

I am truly sorry and I promised I won’t leave you again, I am sorry that I broke this. But please forgive me, Doll.

Your James.

[stiles-banshees]

Good Things Come in Threes: Chapter Two

Summary: Growing up on the East Coast her whole life, Summer Hastings always longed for more. The niece of Penny Benjamin would often fly out to the West Coast every summer to visit her aunt and cousin. Summer didn't realize how much her life would change that night she called her aunt to book her plane ticket when she was 18 years old when a certain Jake Seresin answered the phone.

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Warnings: 18+, swearing

Word Count: 3k

The young women walked to the lounge in the middle of the compound carrying bagfuls of snacks and wet hair from their showers. The pair wore similar outfits since Summer was wearing Natasha’s clothes. They sported oversized navy tees (Nat in black, Summer in dark blue) and gray cotton shorts. The walk to the lounge had been relatively quiet, the only noise coming from the light chatter of the girls. The lounge is empty when the girls walk in, and Summer relaxes.

“Wanna watch the Outsiders?” Nat asked.

Summer hummed as she spread their snacks across the table in front of the couch. Nat took her time queuing the film. Summer sat on the couch and curled into herself when she felt a little chill.

“Blankets?” She asked.

“I’ll grab some from the drawer,” Nat pointed to a dresser set up in the corner. “Grab the headbands and facemasks?”

Summer fished their skincare essentials out of Nat’s bag, smiling when she realized Nat got her favorite brand. Nat threw a blanket to Summer before plopping herself down on the couch, putting a headband on, and then laying her head down in Summer’s lap. Summer carefully squeezed a bit of the facemask onto Nat’s forehead before using a brush to spread the product around.

“I missed this,” Nat sighed, closing her eyes while relaxing.

“You always loved being pampered,” Summer laughed, smearing some of the mask on her friend’s cheek.

“And now I have to deal with all those men.” Nat wrinkled her nose, causing Summer to lightly smack her arm.

“Bradley and Bob aren’t that bad.” Summer whispered, grinning as she thought of her other friends.

“No, but Hangman and Coyote are,” Nat assured.

“I thought you liked Javy?” Summer asked.

“He’s bearable when the blond idiot isn’t around,” Nat answered.

Natasha’s facemask has been fully applied, and Summer tapped her shoulder as a sign to sit up. Summer places her headband on her forehead before switching positions with her friend. She jumped when she felt the cool mask on her cheek.

“I’m definitely with you no matter what since you’re my friend and all, but why don’t you like Jake?” Summer asked her friend quietly.

“He’s just…not a good guy. I’m sure he has potential super deep down, but I don’t see it happening anytime soon, and that kind of scares me considering I might go on a mission with him.” Nat laughed uncomfortably.

“Is there any way I can help? Even if it’s just being there if you need me? I know I can’t come on the mission, but maybe I can help you feel less freaked out.” Summer offered.

“You’ve been a great help, actually. Hangman’s a bit more bearable this time around since he’s distracted by you.” Nat laughed again, and the discomfort disappeared as she smeared some facemask on Summer’s chin.

“Oh, just doing my civic duty.” Summer joked.

The girl’s laughter gets cut short when the door to the lounge opens, allowing Javy and Jake to walk in. The two were wearing sweatpants and their own Navy shirts.

“You gotta be shitting me,” Nat grumbled as she finished applying the pink paste to her friend’s forehead.

“Oh my god, are those Oreos?” Javy asked, snatching the package off the table.

Summer got up from Nat’s lap, pulling her legs under her.

“Coyote, Hangman, out,” Nat said as she snatched the pack of cookies from the intruders.

“The lounge is a common space, Phoenix.” Jake gave her a smug look.

“Fine,” The raven-haired woman groaned. “Just one rule; don’t eat all of our snacks. Ask first.” She said, looking directly at Javy.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jake replied as Javy nodded.

The two men got comfortable on the floor in front of the couch. Javy sat in front of Nat while Jake was in front of Summer.

“I have two rules of my own if that’s okay?” Summer grinned, knowing her friend would love the second one.

“Whatcha got, sweetheart?” Jake asked as he turned to face the girl.

“Tonight, you’re all civilians. No callsigns; we’re using everyone’s names.” Summer eyed them all, knowing the importance of their callsigns in their work. 

“Easy,” Jake nodded to himself.

“Simple,” Nat agreed.

“Why?” Javy asked, regretting his question immediately when he saw his two coworkers glaring at him.

“And you guys have to participate in our girl’s night since you crashed. Facemasks and all,” She beamed at her friend.

Nat’s sour look twisted into an excited smile, “Yes!”

“Only if Summer helps me because I wouldn’t be surprised if you decide it’ll be fun if you shave one of my eyebrows off.” Jake glared at her.

“What makes you think I won’t?” Summer asked him.

“I’m hoping you’re in a good mood right now.” He said.

“As long as Jake’s the only one losing an eyebrow tonight. I don’t care.” Javy sighed, handing Nat a clean brush when she motioned for it.

Summer moved to the floor, motioning for Jake to move away from the coffee table as she grabbed another clean brush and her latte from her trip home. Jake followed and sat opposite her with his legs crossed. Summer watched as Javy moved to the couch to rest his head on Nat’s lap, and she smiled softly. Confused, Jake followed her gaze to the two pilots.

“Why are you staring at them?” Jake leaned in to whisper.

“They look cute.” Summer whispered back, still staring at the two.

Jake hummed, turning back to Summer and watching her dip the brush in the jar of pink gunk.

“What’s that supposed to do?” He asked as she painted a streak across his cheekbone.

“Well, it’s not gonna do much in one use, but it’s supposed to help your skin retain moisture. Considering this is probably the only time you’ll use this, it’ll make you smell like me a little until you shower tomorrow.” She said.

Good to know.

“So, is this why you always smell like roses?” He asked, eyeing the jar between their legs.

“That and my shampoo, body wash, and perfume. I like the scent if you couldn’t tell.” Summer laughed.

Jake kept his eyes trained on her face while she spread the paste around. He noticed the freckles peeking from under the mask, the small scar on her lip from biting it too much, and the little gold flecks in her brown eyes. Sure, Jake always thought Summer was pretty, but that was before she became a tangible thing in his life. He didn’t know it was possible, but Summer Hastings was somehow prettier in person.

“All done.” Summer smiled, cocking her head to the side while twisting the cap back onto the jar. “Why are you staring at me?”

“I thought Nat missed a spot. She didn’t.” The man lied, hoping the girl didn’t realize he was daydreaming about them together.

“Uh huh,” She said, unconvinced. “Nat, what’s next?” She turned to see her friend and Javy staring at them the same way she’d been staring at them.

“I would say we could talk about boys, but-” She started, but Javy interrupted her.

“I’m nosy. We’re dishing.” He said seriously.

Summer laughed at his outburst, and the duo made their way over to where she and Jake were sitting. Javy made sure to bring the Oreo’s and Nat brought over the two ice cream pints with spoons the girls had gotten a few hours ago. Summer popped the lid off hers and immediately dug her spoon into the peanut buttercup dessert.

“Well, we know there aren’t any guys for me right now.” Nat shrugged, eating a spoonful of her own ice cream.

“Right, totally.” Summer rolled her eyes at her friend.

Jake laughed at Summer’s pointed hint and positioned himself closer to her.

“What about you, Sum? Any cute aviators or civvies?” Nat teased.

Jake perked up a bit, hoping he was the only guy on Summer’s radar since she’s been in Miramar.

“Are there cute guys? Yes. Have I thought about approaching them? Of course. Will I do it? Absolutely not.” She said, taking a bite of ice cream.

“Why not?” Javy asked with a mouthful of Oreo.

“Cute guys freak me out.” She shrugged.

“Don’t kill me for exposing you, but you basically begged me to introduce you to Jake.” Nat reminded her.

“What?” Jake asked, and Javy started dying of laughter.

“Hey! That was when Jake and Hangman were two different people in my mind. Don’t hold that against me.” Summer whined.

“If you want anything, all you have to do is ask, baby.” Jake nudged her shoulder with his.

“You’re one of the girls tonight. Shut up.” Summer covered his mouth with her hand.

“Look, they’re fighting like a married couple already.” Javy cooed.

“Summer can do better than Jake, don’t make her settle.” Nat shook her head.

Summer dropped her hand from Jake’s mouth and grabbed Nat’s forearm instead.

“Calm down. Nothing’s happened.” Summer assured her friend.

“Yet,” Jake added, and the three others stared at him.

“What’s the deal between you two anyway?” Javy asked as he looked between them.

“What do you mean?” Jake asked his friend.

“You guys haven’t talked about it?” Nat asked as she ate another spoonful.

“You guys have a mission coming up. I didn’t think now was the right time to rehash old feelings.” Summer said awkwardly.

“Aren’t you scared?” Nat asked her quietly.

“Aren’t you against this?” Summer retorted.

“Oh, absolutely. I just feel like you guys should have the conversation.” Nat shrugged.

“Look at you, being all mature.” Jake grinned.

“Dude, it’s almost like you don’t want her blessing.” Javy cringed.

“I’m sure if Summer wanted to be with me, she’d disregard Nat’s perception of me.” Jake turned to see the girl next to him shaking her head.

“That’s not how this works.” Summer said.

“You’d sacrifice our happiness-your happiness for her?” Jake asked, completely taken aback.

“Jake, the thing is that I’m always going to be her maid of honor. And there are only so many ways when that can exist with you being the groom.” Nat explained.

“They’re right. That’s a thing in the girl world.” Javy nodded.

“So, if I have this right, you need her to like me so you can like me?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, exactly.” Summer nodded.

“Now, what if Bradshaw doesn’t like me?” He asked.

“See, that kinda makes it more fun,” Nat said.

“It makes it hotter.” Summer agreed.

“Well, how do you feel about me now?” He asked the two women.

“I still despise you.” Nat hummed.

“I’m actually kinda into you, but her hating you trumps that.” Summer shrugged.

“Goddamn it, Trace. You’re cockblocking me.” Jake groaned.

A laugh is shared between the other three.

“Nat, are you sure there’s no one you’re into?” Javy randomly asked.

“Oh, we’re doing this now?” Jake asked him.

“We’re figuring out your shit, might as well figure out mine.” He shrugged.

“Oh my god,” Summer gasped when she realized what was happening.

“Oh god, here we go,” Jake muttered.

“What’s going on?” Nat asked cluelessly.

“You’re not actually this dense, are you?” Jake eyed her.

“Keep this up, and you’ll never get to kiss Summer.” Nat threatened.

Jake nodded and motioned as if he was locking his mouth and throwing away a key. Summer watched in amusement, her cheeks turning pink underneath the mask.

“I think Jake and I are good to wash our faces, so we’ll be back in a few minutes.” She said. 

Summer pulled the aviator off the floor to follow her out of the lounge and to the communal bathroom.

“You just couldn’t wait to get me alone.” Jake’s chuckle echoed in the room as they passed the showers and to the sinks.

“Yeah, I brought you to the bathroom to make out.” She snorted as she rinsed off her facemask.

Jake followed her lead, rinsing his off as well.

“You don’t wanna make out with me in a bathroom? I’d make out with you anywhere if I’m being honest.” He said while accepting one of the washcloths she had snatched from the table before they left to dry his face.

“Pat dry, Jake.” She reminded him.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He retorted.

Summer pulled her headband off once her face was dry and ran her fingers through her hair to make it a little more presentable. Her freckles were now on full display, and Jake absolutely adored them. Jake balled the cloth up in his hand once his face was dry to stop himself from reaching out to her.

“Not while Nat still hates you.” Summer whispered, giving him a sad smile.

“Not even a pity peck?” He took a small step toward her, and now he could feel the heat radiating from her.

“Close your eyes,” Summer whispered again as her cheeks burned bright.

Jake does as he’s told for the first time ever. He felt Summer grab his hand that doesn’t have the washcloth. Jake felt the way her fingers anxiously slotted their way between his. He waited to feel pressure on his lips, but it didn’t come. Instead, Jake felt Summer press a kiss to his cheekbone. He opened his eyes when he heard her laugh.

“I’ll take what I can get,” The blond huffed.

“What about me?” Summer pouted.

“Summer, the first time I kiss you, I’m going for your mouth, not your cheek.” Jake laughed, pulling the short girl into a hug.

“This sucks.” She pulled him as close as possible, burying her head in his chest.

“You know, we could always kiss and not tell Trace.” He suggested.

“Or, if it gets super annoying, we could stage kiss.” She said, sounding muffled from his shirt.

“Gonna be honest, sweetheart, I have no idea what that is.” He laughed again, trying to pull her closer.

“Come on, Hangman. It’s when you put your thumbs on the other person’s mouth, and then you kiss your thumbs. You’re not that stupid, are you?” Bradley’s voice scared the both of them, and they jumped apart.

“Dammit, Bradshaw. We were having a moment.” Jake groaned.

“In the bathroom of a naval base. Classy.” Bradley joked.

“B, can you just leave? This is embarrassing enough.” Summer whined.

“I came in here to shower; you guys leave.” He pointed at the door.

“Gladly,” Jake said before pulling Summer out into the hallway.

The two awkwardly walk back to the lounge, only to find it empty besides the snacks from earlier and a little note on the table that reads Don’t wait up :).

“How is this fair? Trace can get some ass, but I can’t?” Jake groaned again as he plopped himself down on the couch.

Summer placed her melting ice cream back in the freezer before joining him, practically sitting on his lap.

“Hastings, what are you doing?” Jake asked.

“Can we cuddle? She didn’t say anything about touching.” Summer asked, anxiously biting her lip.

“Absolutely. Smart girl found a loophole.” Jake grinned, pressing his lips to her forehead.

The two settle on the couch. Jake’s lying on his back, and Summer’s on her stomach on top of him.

“What movie were you guys gonna watch?” He asked as he played with her hair.

“The Outsiders, I think, but it’s okay. I get to talk to you now.” She smiled.

“Maybe we can figure out our shit together without the peanut gallery.” He said raspily, and Summer really liked its raspiness.

“Alright,” She laughed. “What do you want, Seresin?” 

“Besides being together in general? I would love for us to be exclusive. We’d go out on dates and dread my inevitable deployments, but I’d always come back home to you. We’d get a dog, so you’re not alone while I’m gone. Getting married could be cool too, eventually, at least, and if you want to. Same with kids. I think it’d be fun to have a few minis of us. Nothing too major, just the fairytale thing most people dream about,” He shrugged.

“Do you have our entire lives planned out?” Summer stared at him with wide eyes.

“No. I’m just saying if I could choose how my life goes, that’s what I’d want.” He explained.

“You want a serious and monogamous relationship with me. And you want us to get married someday, and you want to get me pregnant?” She clarified.

“When you say it like that, I sound like a lunatic.” Jake squeezed his eyes shut.

“It’s a bit crazy, but I get it. I used to have this whole vision about how we’d meet in person for the first time. It’s so embarrassing now, but it just felt right.” She said.

“Your turn to get mushy. Spill,” Jake squeezed her, urging her to go on.

“I would’ve loved to meet in person sooner, but now’s a good time too. I always imagined us having a little cat-and-mouse thing for a few months. Like, just enough tension for other people to notice, but not so much they’d say anything. Penny would lose her mind because I’m her only niece. Nat would act like she is now, but Bradley would be a little more skeptical since you’re older than me. You’d be obsessed with me, though. Not in a creepy way or anything, but anytime someone would think, ‘oh, where’s Jake?’ and someone else would say, ‘he’s probably with Summer.’” She placed her chin on his chest, locking eyes with the blond, and suddenly felt embarrassed.

“I know, it’s so bad.” She cringed.

“I think we can make that happen,” Jake suggested.

“Are you insane?” Summer’s eyes widened.

“The uranium mission’s in a few weeks, so we’ll have to speed up the process a bit, but I think we can make it work.” He nodded to himself as he crunched the numbers in his head.

“How much free time do you think you’ll have?” She laughed.

“I’ll make time if I have to,” Jake said. “We might have to start tomorrow afternoon, though. I think Javy and Nat are in her room tonight.”

“Dammit, now I have to sleep in here.” Summer pouted.

“Not necessarily,” Jake smirked.

-

Here is a link to my masterlist if you'd like to read any of my other writings or if you would like to send requests :)

[followingthefanfiction]

Jason Moran Dezon

Jason Moran Dezon, The Most Dangerous Boy in town

Leo: The Dangerous Nature

Catchphrase: “Hey I’m a terrible person, but I’m a decent guy!” :D

Favorite Ride: The Shooting Gallery

Intro: When he was younger, Jason Dezon would visit his aunt on the weekend. His aunt, Miss Connors, was a wicked woman as you already know. Only three, he would do his best to protect his younger cousin, Sarah Marie. This was a trend he would continue all his life. He did his best to shake off the abuse. The beatings never bothered him, he knew he was just protecting the defenseless child. However, after being called multiple choice words and being told he was a terrible boy, he began to believe it. As he grew older, he visited the Connors house less, and jail more. He was then abandoned by his family, and decided that he would stop relying on anyone to help him or his cousin. His final visit to the Connors house left an impression on everyone. Jason Dezon had had enough of the beatings, and on instinct, pulled a knife on Mr. Connors. This got Jason sent to jail for 2 years. In jail, he was constantly treated like he was nothing. Many others called him a danger and a menace. He decided, that if everyone was going to think of him like that, he would at least have fun with it. Sure, he would be a danger, but only to those he beloved deserved it. Every inmate in prison was there for a reason, so in his mind, it didn’t matter if he hurt them. His family had never cared for him, so it didn’t matter if he hurt them. It didn’t matter if he stole, threatened, or harmed anyone. This was because no one cared if any of those things happened to him. The only person he believed was worth being kind to, was his little cousin. The one who had always believed in him. Unfortunately, when he came to visit the Connors to see her, she no longer believed in him. With her thinking he was as violent as the rest of their family, he had nothing left holding him to sanity. He decided he would make the town burn for how broken he had become. This is how Jason Dezon become The Most Dangerous Boy in town.

Song Title: The Bomb

Song Theme: I could be a murderer and want to kill people, like everyone in town. But I have a tragic past, so you love me ;) …please love me and fix me

Dialogue lines: :

“woah woah woah, you can’t just ask someone why they were in jail for 2 years…”

“I guess I am the way I am because no one saw me as anything else, but I didnt want to be as bad as they thought, so I met the expectations halfway.”

“I would never harm an innocent. It’s just that no one in this town is innocent. I dont think anyone is really innocent. Soooo, yeah, I guess I’ll hurt anyone.”

”You touch my cousin, you fucking die. That’s it.”

”I’m like, the worst person, but I’m also. A lonely person.”

“FUCK YEAH DUDE!!! GET THAT SEXY CAT PLANET TO WORSHIP YOU !”

“You ever create elaborate plans to murder people, then almost go through with it? I do that every day. All day. Isn’t fire pretty. Why are you backing away :) am i scaring you >:)?”

“listen, dude,,,, you rock. But auto tune? Not in style anymore, sorry buddy.”

“Oh I remember you!! The guy who wanted to be a smoker stripper whatever at like age five! You’re so cool.”

“Who… the fuck… is that creepy ass doll. If she gets close to me, I’ll kill her. I don’t care if we are dead.”

“I’m killing you all starting with Ocean. You think I’m kidding? I’ll find a way.”

Character Thoughts:

Ocean is gonna die and I’m gonna kill her myself

Noel is awesome, he wants to fuck and die. Same buddy. Also, he took care of Marie all these years ya know? He’s gotta be worth something.

Mischa. Sarah Marie Connors, if he breaks your heart I break him. Thats like my job as your older brother figure.

Ricky, my dude, you are weird as fuck, but I respect you. You horny? Be horny. Even for cat ladies. Just treat them right.

Keep the doll fuck away from me. Creepy ass shit.

Choirsona thoughts: 

Havent met anyone yet. Get ready for me world. 

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Sunday

So before my writer’s block cracked open in August, someone I believed was my friend sent me this writing prompt that actually did produce some quality writing in about 20 minutes. She sent it to me right before Mother’s Day, which is historically a hard day for me to deal with because of my relationship with my mom. I posted it on Mother’s Day, and I maybe reblogged it once. And today is Sunday, and the prompt is for Sundays, and I wanted a trusted friend or two who I don’t think saw this before to see it here, and I wanted to add onto it. I know I’m posting a lot here and I’m not sure who if anyone is looking at it, but the words are helping me. So I’m going to keep doing it. Anyway, this was the prompt:

Here’s what I wrote:

Sunday

My mother always prioritized convenience over connection. When I was a little girl, Mom never minded the twenty minute drive to the river to drop me off with my grandparents daily, because they provided free childcare for me when she worked. It was convenient. I set up camp at Gramma and Granda’s; that’s really where home was, even though the address listed on my school and medical records said Not Their House. Once Gramma died, and I was closer to twelve than eleven, and Mom felt confident I could handle myself alone without getting her outwardly accused of being a negligent mother, all of my connections became her inconvenience. Pull her out of the school district she’s grown up in and move her into the closer, more convenient one. Who cares if she doesn’t have any friends? Who cares about her missed connections? Who needs connections when you have convenience? Geographic closeness will always conquer emotional closeness on Mom’s list of what’s important. I started living for Sunday. The same twenty minute drive once a week to visit Granda, one of exactly two people I felt lovingly connected to, and the only one still living, became a chore. My connection didn’t matter, only her perceived inconvenience did, but I still got to have it on Sunday. I still got to go to the little river town church where my favorite aunt and uncle and cousins all went; I still got to watch baseball on cable with Granda in his little retirement home apartment. He sold the house and split the money four ways; twenty-five percent to Mom and Dad. He didn’t want the money and he didn’t want to live there anymore without her; there were too many stacked years of memories; too much connection from which he couldn’t escape the heavy loss. He didn’t want to live anywhere without her, really; he didn’t want to live without her. Period. Granda started regularly asking God to take him so he could be with His Doe and not in this little apartment where he lived only for Sunday and the scraps of connection he used to feast on every day. Mom called him a drag. She echoed his wish that God would just take him as often as he made it, but she didn’t want him to regain his treasured connection, she just wanted to pile up more of her own convenience. She hoarded convenience like a dragon hoards gold, and regardless of how much she felt was stolen from her or who she felt took it away, that was the loss she felt. Mom despised Sunday. Sunday took more than just a stray coin or two from her abundance of convenience; and my connection to Granda; to the river town; to the rest of my family; never adequately compensated her for her deficit. It grew every week; my debt for insisting on the connection grew with interest each Sunday, but I let it grow until Granda died too. He finally got to reconnect. At least I hope that’s what happened with him and Gramma; they’re together now, somewhere, everyday, connected. I’m not sure about it though. I don’t go to any church on Sunday anymore. I don’t even make a twenty minute drive. But I’m home and always connected.

I should have subtitled this post Connection and Convenience.

I’m posting this again here because I’m feeling the same dismissal and disregarding of my connections from the person who sent me this prompt originally that I have always felt from my mom. She’s like oddly echoed my mom on so many levels for me in the past two weeks of sitting in fairly extreme social anxiety. Like an echo, it’s not exactly the same as the original sound, but it’s close enough to be recognizable. I thought we were connected. Because of my past with my mom, I’ve been unfortunately set up to believe that anyone who willingly spends time with me and/or talks to me where I get to say things too must love me. But almost always, they’re using me. And this person definitely was. I was convenient company, not a real connection. As soon as I became inconvenient, I wasn’t connected anymore. I try my best to not ever operate like that. I certainly never intend to treat other people like they are just a convenience to me, and I try to convey that I am willing to deal with a fair amount of inconvenience for a real connection. What I give is always real. It comes from a genuine, sincere place. But sometimes things in my own life come to the surface, like serious anxiety and trauma triggers...like practical impediments like sickness and travel and family emergency...like whatever. And I know those things happen in other people’s lives too, so I try to never be inconvenient whenever I possibly can. I know people have families and other friendships and careers and health conditions and their own trauma that makes it difficult sometimes to connect with me in convenient ways, and I try my best to be alright with that. So when someone else treats me cavalierly...makes it very clear that although I am willing to wade through some inconvenience for them, they aren’t willing to feel a drop of it from me...ever...regardless of what the inconvenience is...it hurts a lot. It hurts because it always takes me back to my mom. It triggers most of my anxiety and trauma and self-esteem damage triggers. So that’s where I’m at this Sunday. There, and I’ve been watching Derry Girls kind of staggered with amazing friends, and Granda Joe really makes me miss my own Granda.

TV show actors ^^^^

Real Life Me with my Gramma and Granda ^^^^^ Whoever reads this? You’re not convenient company for me. I feel like you’re an important connection. I hope you feel that way about me too. <3

[thecreativemystique]

If manifestations are real

You’re here. You’re finally here on my side of the country, in my city where you always said you’d be. I’m in the city with you, not living together yet but I made it, and you did too. We’re dating, we’re together. We speak daily, see each other a few days a week unless we’re busy - which happens to be often. Us artists take our work home with us but I love every second of it. But sometimes you come over just to watch me work while I sip my wine and have music playing in the background. These nights we spend together that end in us tangled up together. Sharing details about our day as you watch from over my shoulder and place a kiss on my neck. My favorite spot as you know.

On the weekends we hang out with our friends, with my brother and sister and their significant others. We go places, do activities, find new places to try, all the fun things we said we’d do together. We have dinner at 12 chairs, fornino, and of course Joe’s Shanghai because that place is, and always will be a favorite. I take you to Calexico and you brag about how California tacos are better than here in BK which I don’t disagree. You just love to push my buttons but I let you because it makes both of us laugh. I show you all my favorite spots in a city that I call my home, a place where I always felt like myself, my REAL self. Sometimes we go out east to visit my family, spend tie with my parents, aunts, uncle and cousins. I’m not afraid if introducing you, especially to my mother. Seeing you in the dynamic doesn’t scare me as much as I thought it once would. But as I see it happen my fear ceases to exist. 

Sometimes we go out west to visit your family, your friends. Sometimes it’s up north, sometimes it’s SoCal. Either or, you know I love both. We watch sunsets, we walk by the water, we share street food with each other. You take my hand as we walk down the boulevard telling me this is the best love you’ve ever had. 

We share our traditions, or culture, stories from our upbringing and what its like to be raised by immigrant parents, or parents raised by immigrants. Things I thought most people wouldn’t understand but you do. The good, the bad, the ugly, the dirty, and the beautiful parts.

In the nights we stay up talking, joking, having sex, watching netflix, laying next to each other in blissful comfort. Neither of us wanted to admit what we feel, what we had been through, but we trust each other. I never thought it was possible to trust someone this much, I thought it was a myth, that it was something I only read or see on TV but you make it real because you ARE real. The closeness, the vulnerability. I overcame fears because I want to be with you more than I’m afraid of being vulnerable. We learned from each other. The lessons we knew we needed to learn. You helped me to rely on others, to be open with others, to be weak and dependent, to ask for help and let people help me. And with my fierce independence I helped you feel safe and secure when you’re alone, to have fun alone, to feel like yourself when you’re alone.To know the difference between wanting and needing. We’ve grown with each other, became better, stronger for each other all with the intention to continue to grow with and for each other.

I open up to you in ways I haven’t opened up to people before. And the best part, you don’t look at me like I’m crazy, or that I’m from another planet. Even if you thought as such you never make me feel alien for it. I don’t need validation, and you know that, but you let me find comfort in you without the fear of feeling like I made a mistake. And though its sometimes challenging for you, you open up to me. I let you be the weak one when you need to be. You want to be strong for me because I AM strong for you and for myself, but you know when to put away the façade and take a break. We lay down on the couch, your head on my chest as I play with your hair. Your long, dark, silky black hair that I love so much. You talk as if no one is listening, opening up about things you keep buried deep. I respect your boundaries and you respect mine but we ask each other questions and tell each other our concerns without having any worry.

And when we look at each other and into each others eyes, we know it, better than we’ve ever known. We’re in love, and we always will be.

[purplesurveys]

1610

Habits

Do you tend to speed when you drive? Never. The pandemic and it forcing me to stop driving for a while apparently took the aggression out of my driving habits and I rarely overtake or go anywhere above 40-50 now.

Do you smoke cigarettes? Theoretically I could still accept a stick or two socially, but I just never smoke now. I don’t see the point or enjoyment in doing so and just entirely prefer vaping.

Does your temper flare a lot? It only kind of does at work situations, like when I’m under a million deadlines or if the people around me aren’t doing as well or as fast as I’d want them to.

Do you get emotional easily? I find that I’m as emotional as a rock these days. But occasionally I’ll still get my bouts.

Do you get obnoxious when you’re drunk? Back in college this was the case, but not anymore. I’m more of Drunk Fun Aunt Robyn these days, just regularly making sure everyone is still having fun and included in the conversations lol.

Which shoe goes on first? Whichever’s closer to me.

Are you lazy? Sometimes.

Name one thing you do that people always tell you about. That I am a raging workaholic.

Are you superstitious? Not at all, which I find so incompatible with Filipino culture lol.

Do you get bored with relationships quickly? Well with the last one I didn’t. I’m not sure what I’d be like in any theoretical future relationship I’d get myself into 

Can you sleep without blankets covering you? Yes, especially in the hotter months.

What position do you sleep in? Side.

What do you do when you’re angry? I rarely feel anger these days tbh, but when I do, I am pretty non-confrontational. I just rant to whoever, like my sister or Angela.

What do you do when you’re sad? Most of the time I just stop what I’m doing, look out the window and process my emotions while tuning everybody out for a few minutes. I used to listen to RM’s mono to calm down, but since Indigo came out I’ve been turning to that instead.

Who do you call when you have a bad day? Nobody; I just deal with it in my own way until it passes.

Your ABCs

A - is for the last person that made you ANGRY. I honestly can’t remember. I’m very hard to piss off these days.

B - is for BEER you prefer. Not a fan of beer. I don’t even have a preference because they all taste the same to me.

C - is for do you have a CAT? I do not.

D - is for can you DANCE? Nope.

E - is for do you have your EARS pierced? I do and impressively enough they haven’t closed despite the fact that I haven’t put on a pair of earrings since I was 10. I still put on accessories on my ears from time to time but they’re clip-on now; I accidentally ripped my left earlobe piercing open years ago so wearing a pair of earrings is impossible now.

F - is for your best FRIEND. Angela, Reena, and Andi.

G - is for did you ever watch GUTS on Nickelodeon? It doesn’t ring a bell, so probably not.

H - is for the last person who HUGGED you? My mom. I - is for close your eyes.. what IMAGE do you see? I can ‘see’ the brightness of my laptop screen but otherwise it’s just dark.

J - is for have you ever been to JAIL? No. I’ve visited police stations before but I haven’t had to spend time in jail.

K - is for when is the last time you flew a KITE? Grade 5. 2009. We made kites for science class.

L - is for the LOVE of your life. First thing I thought of was Kimi.

M - is for the last piece of MAIL you got. Not mail, but packages - last items I received were the Christmas presents I got for my cousin and his fiancée (a film camera) and my dad (a Fitbit watch).

N - is for do you remember NERF guns? Yeah. We never had our own as toy guns weren’t our thing, but we had cousins who had them when they were younger and we played Nerf guns with them too.

O - is for do you OWN a car? It’s technically not mine (my parents bought it) but it’s designated for me. Case in point, if my mom and I ever have to use that car on the same day I’m usually given priority for it.

P - is for your favorite PASTTIME. Going to museums or doing anything BTS-related.

Q - is for do you like peace & QUIET? It can definitely be calming when I need it, but generally I prefer some hustle and bustle in the background.

R - is for do you like the color RED? Sure! I prefer darker shades of it though.

S - is for how many hours of SLEEP you need to function? 6-7 if I have to work the next day. Anything fewer than that and I’d feel like shit.

T - is for what TIME is it? 6:46 PM.

U - is for what is UNDER your bed? I’ve got a loft bed now, so technically what’s ‘under’ my bed is my workspace and my reception area for when I have friends over.

V - is for what you did last VALENTINE’S day. Ooh, I can’t remember. It was a weekday if I’m not mistaken? so I just reported to work that day and didn’t do anything special.

W - is for do you drink a lot of WATER? I barely get to eat and drink throughout the day, but I do catch up come dinner. I drink so much water throughout the evening lol.

X - is for have you ever had an X-RAY? Yes.

Y - is for the last person you YELLED at. I was telling Dev to get her shit together because I was assigned to drive her home, but having had one too many drinks she was being too rowdy and clumsy and I didn’t want that kind of behavior in my car, much less in the shotgun seat.

Z - is for have you ever watched ZORRO? Nope.

Random

Who do you wish you could hang out with right now? Eh, nobody. I was with my family the entire weekend and also spent most of today in a car, so I want to spend the rest of the evening on my own. I even gave my family a heads-up that I no longer plan on leaving my room once we get home and to please not disturb me lol.

Name one thing you absolutely can not stand. Clients with unrealistic or extreme requests.

Where do you spend most of your time? If not at home, you can typically find me at a Starbucks.

If you could fly, where would you go first? I’d go to Seoul.

What was the best vacation you’ve ever been on? My East Asian cruise was awesome and I want to do it again just so that I get to go back now that I have a deeper appreciation for both Japan and Korea.

Have you ever hit a squirrel when you were driving? Well we don’t have squirrels here, but I’ve also never run over an animal.

Did your car ever break down? Not break down, but it did run of battery one morning while on the way to work. I was very fortunate to have been at a gas station when it happened because then I had people to help me out and let me know the next things I had to do.

What’s your favorite thing to do on the weekend? Rest and catch up on content to watch. Occasionally I’d head out on my own to go somewhere random.

What radio station do you listen to most often? I usually go for either 93.1 or 99.5, but I haven’t listened to the radio in a while as I connect my phone’s Bluetooth to the car stereo instead.

Pick one: Papa John’s, Dominoes, or Pizza Hut. Pizza Hut. I had one very salty experience with Papa John’s and haven’t felt like trying it again; and Domino’s doesn’t really scream anything special to me so I haven’t felt the need to try it out.

What is the longest amount of time you’ve been awake? A little over 24 hours. What would you do if you found out the world was ending in one week? Spend the remaining time with family.

Do scary movies make you paranoid when you watch them alone? It depends on the plot. Like I’d get paranoid if horror movies would make the littlest of things a plot point, if that makes sense? Right after I watched The Ring (as in, credits just started to roll), the phone rang and it damn near sent me into a frenzy lmao - this sort of thing is what I mean. But stuff like The Shining, Midsommar, The Exorcist, etc I’m fine with.

Name one thing you’ve lied about recently. Saying I’ll check out this Disney+ recommendation given to me by a relative when I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to fit it into my schedule. What is the worst movie you’ve ever seen? I’d say The Notebook was pretty cringey from the get go.

Who was the first person to ever give you flowers? I had a ‘7 Roses’ segment on my 7th birthday party (similar to 18 Roses) where my male relatives and family friends handed me flower plushies...so them, I guess.

[restinslices]

Before y’all ask, YES I am working on Everything pt4.

However, I wanna rant real quick. TW for shitty ass feelings.

Idk if this is just me, but I have such a love hate relationship with the fact that I take meds for my depression and anxiety. On one hand it’s like “dude, you really need these meds. They help you. For fucks sake you’ve been hospitalized before”. On the other hand it’s like “why do you need meds to feel ok? Why can’t you just be normal? For fucks sake, you’ve been hospitalized before and kept bouncing between hospitals for over a year”. Surely this can’t just be me that’s felt this way right? I know I need these meds, but I hate that I need them. I went without meds for months and felt fine, but then the depression hit and I had to go on them again, so idk, I kinda feel like “damn. I’m never gonna be normal” and that’s so ass. And my shit is BAD. The persona I have online may seem very free and “I don’t give a fuck. Imma do me” but that is so not me irl. I’ve had to leave class because my panic attacks. School (before I went to an alternative school) was extremely difficult because so much of it was social work and for some reason my brain just shuts down. I’ll legitimately start shaking if I gotta talk to someone I don’t know. I get anxiety when I think about crossing the street. My brain is dumb as hell and I know this. And bitch the depression? Just take me out the game cause shit gets wild. I’ll neglect my responsibilities, my hygiene, I’ll just sleep all day so that I don’t have to think about how much I wanna control alt delete.

So believe me, I KNOW I need meds. I just hate that I can’t function like a normal person without meds. When it came to my ptsd, it got better. I can stay home alone, I don’t panic as much as I did when I hear cars passing, I can walk by myself without worrying about getting attacked, if my dad were to text me right now I’d be annoyed instead of scared, shit like that. It took like, 4 years but it got better. I don’t see me ever getting better when it comes to this and being what’s considered normal. Some days I’m ok with that. Some days I’m not.

And bitch while I’m typing, peep game. So my dad was abusive, hence the ptsd. Once I got away from him, I never spoke to him again as you can imagine (he kept harassing me through text but speeding past that-). But I never imagined that my dads side of the family would never speak to me again as well. And don’t get me wrong, they’re not my favorite people. One cousin in particular can never come around me again for a specific traumatic reason but we’re gonna move past that and focus on the bigger picture. And I’ve tried to keep in touch with certain people and my mom even asked one of my cousins that I actually like to check in on me because it isn’t fair that everyone dropped me, but no one is doing their part. That cousin never contacts me and I’m always reaching out. It’s always me calling. Me checking in. Why can’t y’all do the same? I’m the bitch with trauma. So I stopped calling and we’ve stopped speaking. And apart of me is like “Slices, they’re your grandparents so maybe technology is hard” but another part is like “they have multiple phones. How hard would calling me be? What about my cousins and aunts and uncles that never make the effort with me too? Why am I doing all the work and these grown ass people aren’t doing shit to keep our relationship growing?”. It’s just not fair. And I know “not fair” sounds childish because life isn’t fair, but that’s the only way I know how to describe it. It’s just not fair. The whole court shit happened when I was 14. I am 18 now and none of y’all have tried. And it’s not like I would just visit so our relationship ain’t that deep. Nah. I’ve lived with these people. Our family was close. So like?? And all my dad had to do legally for us to possibly start talking again was go to counseling, and he hasn’t done that yet and never will. So it’s like, why am I not worth holding onto or fighting for to anyone on that side of the family? What’s wrong with me?

I’m getting sad as fuck so imma end this here and go watch some edits or smth. This isn’t some cry for help, I promise. I’m not finna take myself off the Census. And this isn’t me fishing for anything. I’m just ranting. It’s a lot easier to do online, yk? I don’t feel like I’m bothering anyone with my shitty ass feelings because you can always just skip it. Sorry for bitching on main. I’m still the strong leader of our bread slices cult💪🏾🍞

Also the beginning is NOT an attack on people waiting for Everything pt4. I just know people are waiting for it and I’m working on it, but I feel like buns and those chapters are longer so they take longer to put out.

[aesopsoul]

holiday niche

(nov. 29 2021)

our holidays used to be spectacular, a gigantic event that lasted until the next week, having the time of our lives with endless gifts, wonderful food at all times of the day, and the best part? family. 

now, i’m not one that is extremely immersed within the family, like my other kin. as time progressed, however, i’ve come to conclude that i adore observing and absorbing my family and their little niches that only occur in the holiday season. 

as the years come and go, holiday gatherings have dwindled down to just my parents and sister, my grandparents and aunt.

which i believe my family has agreed to be just enough.

i suppose the best way to define our little cluster of a family is "tight-knit." i never knew much of the family drama until fairly recently, and i learned that there’s a pretty good reason we don’t visit cousin jennifer and don’t go out of our way to see her snot nose kids, either. every member of our family has something slightly off with them, that seems to come out more often than not during the season of giving. 

my aunt’s favorite aspect of the season is seeing my sister, me and my father, she loves to talk to us and only us.

it's always has been that way. we won’t even have the time to take our shoes off or to put down the food we brought with us before she swoops in to take us to her bedroom and watch the newest funny video she’s found online.

her room, while a bit cramped, is a safe place. lit mostly by natural light, candles, and a single lamp, it’s cozy and safe. incense burning and the sound of water filtering through a mini rock formation that sits on her dresser, her posters from korean bands and japanese films covering her walls from corner to corner, polaroids and printed family photos from the 2000s, her rabbits, and scenery stuck in her mirror that sits on her vanity, in which is covered in multiple hairbrushes, korean skincare, miniature figurines, and a stack of photos not yet hung up. the floor pillows and blankets covering the carpeted floor offer a sense of comfort, since we all can’t fit on her twin sized bed safely anymore. 

if we weren’t hanging in her bedroom, it would be the kitchen/dining room that we all would be in. my grandmother seemingly permanently stuck within the confines of the kitchen, whether it be by the counter or over the sink, i would sit on the barstools or stand by the oven and talk to keep company, telling of my recent affairs with the general public between my jobs as a barista and a cashier, there are always quite the characters. my grandparents tend to not leave the house as much, simply with their fear of the current global pandemic and world affairs (as well as my grandma never getting her license renewed), my aunt takes them on outings as often as she can, depending on her insufferable job at the county police force. my grandma always tells me that she’s glad im able to relay the funny and bizarre aspects of the world to her as often as i can, and always says “oh im glad i don’t work, i simply would not be able to handle it!! people suck.” and while she is right that people do suck, i also love seeing people and how they get excited about whipped cream on a hot chocolate or the polite chuckle in response to kids crying in the cart behind them.

i love being around people and just observing them.

with dinner drawing near, my grandma always calls out to the rest of us, despite the fact that we’re all still in the dining room,

“now go grab something to drink!”

and we listen, my sister and i head to the finished basement to the mini fridge; stocked with sodas, chocolate milks, and waters. selecting a sevenup or sunkist, we are offered a glass by my grandma for such high-end drinks. 

once we are all seated at the table, and food is passed around, my grandpa- seated at the head of the table- asks my father- who is seated at the other end- if he had caught the game last night. it never mattered what the game was; basketball, baseball, or football, my dad’s response was always “i saw half of it, turned it off whenever we were so far gone there was no chance.” and with a hum in response from my grandpa, he would divulge into a play-by-play to my dad of the final moments of the game, regardless if the points were 45-2, with our designated team being the 2. With always the dreaded questions of how school or work has been lately, i love to tell of the fun characters that come into the coffee shop in town, or how my classmates still don’t know the difference between your and you’re. treading lightly on the current political climate, since so many of us have such opposite views, it’s better to just sigh dramatically and go “it’s been rough” and leave it at that.

the clinks of forks and knives against the fine china as someone gets up to get another helping out of the linked crockpots, dinner slows until the final fork stops. in which we are left to clean up and talk of anything new and exciting that’s left to discuss, as my grandmother retreats to the kitchen, and my aunt, sister and me into her bedroom, we let the adults talk until it’s time for dessert of either a pie, cake, or an array of small treats. either way, the main aspect that always brings us back to harmony is food. and nobody knows it better than my grandmother. 

regardless of the season or time of year, there is the comfortable routine that is always brought on by the smaller part of our family, and frankly, im glad we stopped with the overwhelming amount of family within one place. the stuffy air, and the lacked avoidance of political and social talk. perhaps it was always meant to be this way.

[calmatejoto]

I’m in a weird but temporary place in my life. I’m at a low, not rock bottom, per se, but a low.

I can either drown and disappear completely or say, fuck it and thrive. I never would have guessed that this is what entering my 30’s would have looked like.

My sis, my best friend since birth, resents me. She’s been thriving in a new way and has entered a new chapter in her life and I know, she hates that I’m still sticking around her because she feels like she’s still having to take care of me. I thought that the two of us, moving in with my cousin, in my mom’s hometown, would of helped bring us close again but it’s really done the opposite.

Besides that, my relatives here, are back on their bullshit. The same bullshit we experienced growing up, where they’d ignore us and not invite us places, despite having had heart-to-hearts back in 2022, when one of our uncle’s passed.

Fast forward to last weekend, my mom came to visit and it was, weirdly, the most therapeutic visit. I’ve never had a conversation like that, where I felt like I was talking with a parental figure and not someone trying to keep up with me and my sister. We both talked and it was like therapy. I didn’t realize how alone I’ve been and no longer having that outlet with my sister, where we can talk with each other about everything, has really been awful. I’ve realized that I’ve been trying to convince myself that, that relationship is still active but it’s not. Finally accepting that, through the release of talking with our mom, has been so liberating.

On top of that, she’s adamant about me moving back home to LA. She was insistent; telling me to just go. That I wouldn’t be able to accomplish what I want to do and need to do, out here in Ventura. That I would thrive and that she knows I would. She even suggested I get a dinky job somewhere back home, to just have money coming in, and that knowing me, I’d only stay a month before I’d force myself to find something better and in my field. I couldn’t help but stare and slowly smile because for the first time since July, I’ve been seen and heard.

Being able to vocalize how miserable I’ve been, was so liberating. It was healing. I haven’t felt this positive about what my future in a minute. Perhaps, since we first moved out and my parents moved out of state, back in the Fall of 2021.

I have a potential job lined up. It’s very promising and quite frankly, exciting. If all things go accordingly, I’ll be able to work back home, stay with my aunt during the week, and return to Ventura on my days off to do whatever I need to do for my work week ahead. To see how quickly this company was to reach out to me, has been very validating. I have a background in working with fashion designers and talent, mainly singers and musicians, and in trying to talk to my sister and relatives about wanting to get back into that line of work, has only fallen onto deaf ears. I’ve just learned to keep quiet bc there’s no point in talking about that with people who aren’t even in that field.

My friends back home have also been very supportive and are also adamant about me moving back. It also doesn’t go past me that I keep making new friends back home, whenever I’m back visiting. It’s crazy how loud the universe is about me going back.

But I’m ready to be selfish again, to put my needs and dreams first.

The last time I felt this way was back in 2014. And the synchronicities with 2014 have been quite potent, it’s crazy. That was a year in my life where I was thriving and doing everything I ever wanted to do. I was freshly single, working with one of my favorite London designers, traveling to NYC, alone, for the first time. Being able to buy everything I wanted and needed, with no worries. It was a very liberating time and I think it’s time for another 2014. This time, in a new way.

It’s humorous to look back at how even during the midst of the pandemic, I was thriving with my small business but something’s got to give because I’m tired of this maudlin career I’ve been stuck in. I’m ready for my time in the sun again. I don’t like having to thrive out of spite because that’s something I’ve had to do my whole life but this time, I actually want to.

I wanna rub it in their faces.

[mina-van1104]

💕Here's pictures of me & my family when I was a kid. 22 (twenty-two) years ago today January 4, 2002 Grandma Thoia Ly Van who I was very close to who lived in Sparks, Nevada passed away in the same house my family still lives in. Can’t believe it has been 22 years. I miss you. You were my first grandma to pass away. Still think about you & cry about my grandma at times especially today even though it has been 22 years ago. This grandma was on my dad’s side of the family. My other grandma on my mom’s side passed away in 2013 whom I love very much too. Here’s all pictures of me & my grandma when I was a kid/baby with my family. Commemorating/celebrating the 22 year anniversary of my Grandma’s life & day of death memorial.

•

Everyday I would come home from school either to hangout with my older sister Catherine Van-Schwartz & my close cousins/friends at my one of my other aunt’s richer house near Diedrichsen Elementary & Mendive Middle School (good schools we went to back in the day that were still considered good schools) but my most favorite part of the day was coming home from school getting picked up from school from after my Cross-Country/Track & Field practices or my Wintergaurd/Colorgaurd Flag/Cheer/Gymnastics/Dance team practices (after my grandma died) & after practice I would go to my actual house where my grandma lived at my house where I still live in today.

•

I was very close to her. My grandma was my BEST friend. I would tell her everything & hangout with her all the time & watch Our favorite TV shows: Mister Roger’s Neighborhood, Zaboomafoo, Reading Rainbow, The Price is Right with Bob Barker were our top favorite shows. We would sing & dance together, play cards, build stuff together, take care of our 2 live pet parakeets 🐥, live pet mice🐭, & take care of our live pet guinea pig together that we had, we would also sit in the sun together & talk about everything. I would tell her everything. I told my grandma I loved her everyday & good night every night before she died.

•

I remember so clearly at age 9 (exactly 2 months after having my birthday) bright & early in the morning Jan. 4, when the paramedics came to resuscitate & do intense CPR on my grandma at my house from her bed & they put her on the carpet floor while my dad, mom, aunts, older sister, me & some of our other families came over to our house to say one last good bye to my grandma.

•

As I was the one who closed my grandma’s eyes with my hand after she died on the floor after Paramedics couldn’t save her after doing CPR & said our good byes & cultural/ritual prayers, the paramedics carried her away in a huge black bag on a gurney when after they left, our good (original) close neighbor friends who were white including Joyce Ferguson/Fergusons (Joyce) who were still alive back then, came over to hug us & asked if they could do anything for us.

•

Love you grandma. She was 93 years old. Died January 4th-22 years ago in 2002. My grandma was the sweetest, most beautiful, nicest person in the world (including my other grandma who passed in December 1, 2013 at age 88 ).💕

•

I remember my grandma still looked at me & my dad but grandma couldn’t talk anymore that she was silently saying “good- bye”. I’m glad I still got to see her look straight at me before my grandma died a few minutes later (22 years ago today). Our other family members were there in time to see her right before she died. She was my BEST friend. I still have vivid dreams about you, grandma & I know that’s a real visitation from you as well as other dreams of my dead loved ones. Love you grandma. Happy 22nd year in heaven. 💕 Rockin’ it in heaven!🤘🏼🤙💕

•

Here are pictures of me & my grandma when I was a kid & baby. I am the youngest of our family in our household. That baby in the orange beanie who my grandma is holding, is me. All the rest of the pictures is of me & I’m the youngest of our household. Here are pictures of me & my grandma & my family. Reminiscing about Grandma. Also, that’s me in the pink hugging my grandma at her birthday party with her cake at our house. All pictures are of me & my grandma in it.

•

That’s how much I love our house-filled with MANY good memories, living in the same house literally since I was born. My family living in the same house since it was first built in 1990 before I was even born. My family who lived in Nevada since 1979 (45 forty-five years ago). This house is filled with good memories & grandma’s legacy. Love you grandma. Happy 22nd year in heaven today, Grandma Thoai Ly Van. She was 93, strong & lived a happy life who always had a smile on her face. I am so grateful to still have such a good family today.💕

•

Song played on Instagram is called "Scars in Heaven" by Casting Crowns 💙.

# January4th # 22YearsAgo # Grandma ✞♡ # Selfie # Nurse # Coach # NativeNevadan # StopAsianHate # Biden2024💙 # JesusChrist 🦂 # Buddha # GuanYin # MotherMary # NevadaBornAndRaised # HakkaChineseRaised # ProChoice (though, in politics) # Equality # Justice # Healthcare # Running 🏃🏻‍♀️ # PositiveVibes # LoveDrivesOutFear # NevadaNative # athletic # HomeMeansNevada # Nevada # UNRnevadaAlumnaMay2016

•2019:OlderSisterCatherineVan&Adam Schwartz’sWedding&TheirWebsiteOn: https://www.theknot.com/us/catherine-van-and-adam-schwartz-aug-2019•ReminiscingMoreThan200PeopleCame.