#or will just say she can’t refer me to an outside therapist

[autistic-earth-genasi]

Bro the fact that I have to go through all of these phone calls and convince so many people just to get a diagnosis and therapy is so crazy. Like here do all of the things that you can’t do, which is why you need therapy in the first place, and only then we will give you said therapy. Insane.

[waynewifey]

aporia — b.w

part one : dear mr. wayne

part two: aftermath

part three: aporia

epilogue

sumary: aporia suggests “an impasse”, a knot or an inherent contradiction found in any text, an insuperable deadlock, or “double bind” of incompatible or contradictory meanings which are “undecidable”. [reference]

pairing: battinson/bruce wayne x reader

genre: drama & romance

warnings: mental health struggle, miscarriage, car crash, a lot of internal dialogue

word count: 2k

A/N: the more i write, the more i put myself in this story. i feel like this ‘you’ is so complex i can’t help but try to explain her further. part four will be bruce’s perspective on all of this + an epilogue. i’m so grateful for the amazing feedback given on the last two parts and for the new followers, thank you so so much. i hope you enjoy this. (also this gif??? HELLO???)

GOTHAM. USA.

— bargaining.

the uncomfortable silence makes you want to scream. she told you that was a normal reaction and they couldn't get rid of those moments, they were essential for your self reflection. the problem was being alone with your thoughts, even for just one minute. they keep deciding you won't recover any time soon. everyone keeps holding you like a cracked vase. even negligence was better than being put under the microscope.

"i don't know what you want me to say" you respond, your gaze anxiously shuffling between the objects in the room. the woman's eyes, however, don't ever leave your face. she holds that journal like a scientist analysing a mutation. like you're some weird thing.

"you should say whatever you feel like saying." that's what she always answers. dr. quinn was extremely stoic, even for a therapist. you still liked her, though, because her pragmatic approach helped you shift your point of view and see yourself from an outside perspective, which made you want to help yourself. after weeks of feeling extra irritable, still trying to forgive your husband for lying to you, you realised maybe everything was too much for you to handle by yourself. you wanted to go back to the real world but before that, you had to do this. a quick chat with your psychiatrist and he gave you the contact to harley quinn.

"i think i've been way too mean to bruce" your confession has her nodding, like that observation had been made sessions before and she was waiting for you to realise that. "he's been so supportive and helpful, but sometimes words just fly out of my mouth and i don't even mean them"

"do you think it's easier to blame him than to come to terms with what actually happened?" you can't answer, because this was all you've asked yourself lately. you were a coward, hiding behind his suffering to prevent confronting yours. it's easy to curse him, to reject him, but it's not what you want to do. lately it feels like you don't have any control over your emotions and actions. you thought maybe if you pushed away the last person that still cared for you, you could disappear in your loneliness and finally stop hurting. "y/n you've been through something terrible. the kind of thing we never think it's gonna happen to us. i know it doesn't feel real, but you have to face it that it is. the thing about trauma... you have to keep living with it. you have to keep going, because it doesn't go away. but this is your life and you don't get to stay on standby. you hurt the people you love because it's better than hurting yourself. you told me you feel bad about it, so why won't you change?"

why won't you? you don't even know where to start. it felt comfortable living in sorrow forever. horrible, but comfortable. again, it was in fact easier to blame him than to accept this was reality. but he's right outside, been waiting for you for two hours, as he has done twice a week for over a month. you weren't being fair to him. he didn't deserve this. dr. quinn sees the defeat in your eyes and sighs in a mission accomplished type of breath.

"think about this, okay? we'll talk on friday." you nod, as if you weren't already overthinking it.

bruce sees you before listening to you. he's created the habit to stay in the waiting room with headphones in, blasting loud music. he didn't want you to feel like he was prying on you. he also didn't want to listen anything you had to say about him. you had the right to be mad at him, given everything that had happened. he knew you didn't mean it when you bomb dropped the word 'divorce' every now and then. it would take you some time to get back to normal and he wouldn't rush you.

you walk to the car quietly and get into the driver's seat. he agreed to let you drive to and from therapy. the office was actually in dr. quinn's house, a little bit on the country side of the city, if you could call it that. it was a 50 minute drive with no traffic, roads empty enough for you to drift off in you thoughts. he watches you drive, eyes brightening up a little more everyday. he realised that trying to shield you from the world wasn't going to work out. you need to learn how to be on your own. he needs to learn how to care for you while away.

"i'm sorry," you caught him off guard, observing the curves of your face. he frowns at the unexplained sentence. you glance at him but look back at the road. "for the way i've been acting. for pushing you away. for being too complicated. i know you're trying to help… thank you for staying."

"darling, of course. for better or for worse, remember? i'm never leaving you. we're getting through this, together. and don't you worry about me, i'll be okay when you are too, alright? you're doing great, i can see how much you're working towards it." he holds out a hand for you and you take it, intertwining your fingers. his calloused palms are softer now, courtesy of the months without batman-ing. they still embrace yours entirely and warm the cold tips of your fingers.

"i love you" the sweetness of that feeling dominates your tastebuds and it's almost like the day you started dating. that innocent type of love that consist of the pure enjoyment of each others company. however, your attempt to savour the moment is ruined by a shape in your peripheral eyesight.

"i love you too" bruce's voice is muffled by the anxious thoughts taking over your mind. the panic starts to overflow. he notices your body getting stiff and the wheel looking loose on your hand. your breathing lost it's rhythm to creaking gasps. there's something wrong. your eyes are frozen in a vehicle. he's seen this van before. maybe not this one, but an identical one, in a security camera tape in court. it looks exactly like the one that took you. "baby, hey, hey. i'm right here." you don't pay any mind to the man beside you. you can't, not when your instincts are telling you to run. not when you can feel the gun getting knocked on your head over and over again. bruce is saying something. the tears are blurring your sight. this is too much.

he's calling you screaming at this point, tears are rolling down your cheeks and you still haven't looked away from the van. there's a bump coming up, the car is dangerously fast and you're not driving at all. he goes for the wheel but isn't quick enough. the tires wiggle, going in their own direction. the car changes lanes, getting in the wrong way of the street. another car is coming and the impact isn't light. your head is thrown forwards, the airbag covering your face. the windshield shatters and little pieces of glass get stuck in your hair. the crash isn't too bad, you're both still awake and only the front has been smashed. but you get out hyperventilating, falling onto the ground and weeping.

bruce gets out as well, only a scratch on the forehead. he has to kneel on the dirt to hold you up. for a while, he doesn't say anything. the other driver is standing, phone in the ear. he's also fine. the cars were the only damage. two other drivers stop by, offering help. you wish he could help you, but it seems as if there's something inherently wrong with you.

— depression.

the weeks following the accident were harsh. it took a while to get you believing in recovery again. you still weren't sure. somehow there was press at the site, so pictures of you crying next to a car crash made it to the papers. there's minor commentary online about you faking it for your husbands popularity. most of the netizens feel desperately sorry for you and have painted you to be their new princess diana, the comparison seems wild to you.

you only go online every three days or so, because you can't resist the urge to know what bruce hasn't been telling you. jokes on you, he's actually been a lot more transparent lately. you agreed that the batman would show up to the sentence of edward nashton, to pressure the jury with his presence. it worked and the criminal got life without parole. the lawyers said that your public presence impacted on his trial, as 20 years was the standard. you were just glad he wouldn't do that to anybody else ever again. the case got national and your family from outside the state, that you not-so-kindly kept in the dark, started making contact, victimising you all over again.

but things were getting better, gradually. it had been almost a year and it felt like that chapter of your life was finally being finished. you were trying to get your life back, including your driver's license. it was suspended for a while after the accident, so now you had to submit a bunch of medical records to prove that you were mentally fine to drive again. that's how you found yourself in bruce's home office, searching everywhere for your documents. you could've asked him where he put it, but he had just fallen asleep in the living room and you didn't want to disturb him.

in one of the desk's drawers, you find a folder with the local hospital logo on it. you open it, shuffling through the papers you've seen before. only one stands out, with "ob/gyn" on the top of the sheet. you wonder if there's anything helpful there. your eyes start reading the words one by one, listing the examinations they've done on you. the subject changes abruptly.

the ultrasound analysis reports the miscarriage of an unknown pregnancy to the patient's spouse.

you feel like you're about to throw up. the world starts spinning as you force yourself to continue to read.

the fetus was estimated to be in the development stage of the beginning of the second trimester. the miscarriage was most likely a result of several mechanical trauma. dilation and curettage was performed with the patient in a medically induced coma.

you try to remember to breathe in and breathe out just like dr. quinn taught you. you expect the tears but they don't come out. the panic doesn't come. it's suddenly so quiet. it's not like a hole has been punched through your chest, it's like you have no chest at all. it's like you don't even exist. you somehow sit down, your body does. you feel as if it's moving on it's own and you're just watching from afar. your thoughts sound so distant, so irrelevant. you can only think of the baby that had once been inside of you and you didn't even realised. you didn't have the time to love him. you've had him there, right there, the thing you wanted the most in the world and he was taken from you. everything was taken from you.

if a tree falls on a forest, and there's no one around to hear, does it still make a sound? it felt like your fall was silent.

[thousandyearphantombunker]

An overly passionate post about Hank Pym and Jan Van Dyne

I’d like to preface this by saying Hank Pym is my favorite Ant-man and that I don’t think he deserves all the hate and controversy he gets, however I’ve noticed a lot of his fans tend to villainize Jan Van Dyne for reasons that I think are personally sort of stupid. A lot of Hank’s fans try to defend him by painting Wasp as a creep who took advantage of him during a psychotic break/the time when he was in that fugue state as Yellowjacket by marrying him during that time- but that’s not how it went down! She married him out during that time out of fear of what he’d do to her (he tried to force harsh kisses on her and sexually harassed her etc) and out of genuine concern! Jan clearly loved Hank and would constantly try and build up his nonexistent self-esteem but didn’t know how- She would try and prop up his ego but kept accidentally feeding into Hank’s weird complexes instead. I will say that Jan flirted with other men a lot but that wasn’t her being unloyal so much as her natural personality- but when you cross that with her being more successful and younger than him and he took that as a sign she wasn’t loyal/thinking she only liked him out of pity or to make herself look better. 

 She wasn’t manipulating him for her own ends, she wanted to help and have a healthy relationship with him. Still, she didn’t know how to handle the situation properly- Hank needed a therapist, not a girlfriend who thought maybe if she complimented him enough, maybe if she propped him up enough they could be good together- she comes off as a person who had no prior experience with mental illness like this- no frame of reference, no idea what to do, and she didn’t seem to understand what was going on- so she accidentally enabled him and made things worse but she didn’t manipulate him. It’s pretty relatable- If you’ve ever had a mentally ill friend or whatever but had no prior knowledge of mental illness, you tend to mishandle things- you become insensitive/mean without meaning to, or you end up enabling bad behavior- it’s scary and Jan’s case she was in actual physical danger! 

I’d also like to say that Hank while not at all stable had some lucidity when he hit Jan, and prior to him hitting Jan he was already displaying emotionally abusive behaviors (Destroying her costume, practically interrogating her) so no you can’t blame it his mental illness- he still had enough awareness of what he was doing (That being said who in there right mind let Hank rejoin the Avengers after he had a severe disassociative episode-I would have demanded he’d go to therapy or be institutionalized if he refused) 

I do like Hank, he’s a complex/interesting character. He has an inferiority complex so deep he’s tried to kill himself, he’s made preemptive strikes to prove his worth to others, he gave himself health issues from becoming Giant-man and it’s again tied to his insecurities. Outside of his suicidal tendencies, he’s got anger management issues, suffers paranoid delusions, disassociates, etc. He’s also incredibly self-sacrificing and is a strong believer in second chances- redemption is what he wanted for himself- what he tries to convince others he can have- so he hopes he can give to others too. Also, he’s a badass mad scientist (Literally that’s what sold me on him as a character) but the point still stands he was a domestic abuser, he refused to get help for a long time until it reached a breaking point and his reputation both in-universe and out can’t ever make a full recovery- like I said he’s complicated, so you can’t just paint him as a wife-beater or say absolved of his misdeeds because of his insanity or someone else egging him on, Jan was a victim plain and simple even if you point out some of her enabling behaviors

But my ultimate hot take? EMH’s Hank and Jan are the most annoying couple- separately I loved them but whenever I saw Janet whine or Hank moan about the other all I could think was- “Please, the love of God just break up!”- I was like kid preteen btw and still found that drama annoying

[warwickroyals]

beginning - previous - next

Mrs. Jennifer Ware is the communications secretary to Nicholas and his mother. David Schuyler, who's appeared before and has been mentioned several times, is private secretary to Nicholas/Tatiana and is one of Alex's Godparents. "The people upstairs" refers to the only people "above" Nicholas's office: Louis's household and staff.

[DOCTOR] Your Royal Highness, this is Grace. She and her mother have been staying at Amanda’s House for three months.

[ALEX] It’s very nice to meet you, Grace. You’ve got my daughter’s name. Well, half her name.

[GRACE] You have a daughter?

[ALEX] Yeah, she’s around your age, too.

[GRACE] Is she a princess?

[ALEX] No, she’s an ordinary girl.

[GRACE] Does she go to school?

[SCHUYLER] I don’t understand why he chose to bring her up like that.

[JENNIFER WARE] That isn’t even the worst part.

[ALEX] Maybe when you’re feeling better you can return to school.

[SCHUYLER] Jesus Christ, why would he . . . ? I’ve seen enough; turn it off.

[JENNIFER WARE] You know what I’m about to say, don’t you? I was just telling Julianne the other day, like, what is it? “Julie, Am I a fucking mute or something?”  I’ve said this so many times: Prince Alexander is not his brother—

[SCHUYLER] I know, I know—

[JENNIFR WARE] You cannot just throw him into the wild unprepared.

[JENNIFER WARE] He needs notes, Sky! In bullet points and bold or else he won’t fucking read them! He’ll just skim them on his way there and the next thing you know, we have a member of the royal family telling a little girl in palliative care that she’ll get better one day.

[SCHUYLER] Jen, it was an honest mistake.

[JENNIFER WARE] Maybe so, but The Charlatan purchased the rights to that clip yesterday afternoon. This morning they uploaded it to Facebook. Our little mistake sits at over seven-hundred-fifty-thousand views. Over fifty-kay comments, the vast majority of them derisive in nature.

[JENNIFER WARE] The reputation of our second-in-line is holding on by a thread. It’s just been free-falling ever since he left the Prime Minister’s daughter. Even in the press briefings I’ve noticed a change in . . . temperature. That’s why I’ve waylaid you before the meeting. This is too intimate to bring up in front of the others.

[JENNIFER WARE] Listen, I feel for you. You and him were friends. The rest of us were just his employees.

[SCHUYLER] I’ve been here since 6 a.m., whatever emotional pandering you’re about to do, please make it quick.

[JENNIFER WARE] Fine, I’ll summarize. You know those boys, you’ve known them since they were babies. Most people stay with the palace, what, five, six years? You’ve been here for fifteen.

[SCHULERY] There aren’t many opportunities outside the palace. The job market isn’t the best.

[JENNIFER WARE] Don’t bullshit me. You’d began the process of transitioning out back in 2017. Everyone knows what happened.

[SCHUYLER] The late Prince of Danforth’s death was an unprecedented crisis. The family needed me.

[JENNIFER WARE] Right. And they still need you. We’re representing the future King of Sunderland, we can’t have stories of dysfunction and incompetence going to print every Sunday.

[JENNIFER WARE] Talk to those boys. Not as a private secretary, but as a surrogate father.

[SCHUYLER] I doubt they consider me as such. Well, you’re all they have.

[JENNIFER WARE] God knows you give them more attention than your own child.

[SCHUYLER]  Yes, for all the good it does. Neither are keen on listening to my advice.

[JENNIFER WARE] That’s not what the people upstairs think. They think you were the one who pressured Prince Nicholas into seeing a therapist. Oh, and one last thing: they were also saw the little clip I just showed you. The meeting you set up between Prince Alexander and The King has been canceled. Like I said: these mistakes have consequences. Talk to those boys.

[SCHUYLER] Bastards.

[spencer-reids-adventures]

if and when you have the time and brain space I would love to see your take on emily trying to get an adhd diagnosis (preferably with jemily or just gen! bonus if reid can help her out a little)

Spencer shows up at Emily’s house to pick her up for a film festival, and she answers the door half dressed, eyes wide and frantic. Spencer can see into the living room, where here TV is on, the laptop is open on the coffee table, and two books and a kindle are laid out on the couch.

“I’m so sorry,” Emily groans. “I thought I had more time, and then I forgot where I put the shirt I wanted to wear, and then I got distracted by this video of a guy cleaning a really gross carpet, and—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Spencer says calmly. “Even if we miss the first film, we can just catch the next one. That’s why it’s a film festival. No worries.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Emily mutters as she stalks back to her bedroom to finish getting dressed. “I can’t ever seem to get my shit together.”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Spencer says. “Has it always been this way for you?”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I’ve always been, you know…flaky.” She grimaces when she says the word, as though it tastes bad in her mouth. 

Spencer frowns. “Have you ever been tested for ADHD?”

Emily freezes with her sweater half on and stares at Spencer.

“Of course not,” she scoffs. “I did great in school, despite everything.”

“That doesn’t mean much. You could still have it. It would explain a lot.”

“I don’t need to make excuses for my behavior, Spence. I’m flaky, that’s just how I am. I’ll probably always be like this. I just have to deal with that.”

“Do you have a therapist?” 

“Yes.”

“Consider bringing it up to them,” Spencer says. “Just consider it. Okay?”

They eventually make it to the film festival, and Emily puts it out of her mind…until later that night, when it pops back into her consciousness. And despite her reluctance, she follows Spencer’s advice. She considers it.

A week later, she brings it up to her therapist and he agrees to do a screening with her. Before she knows it, she’s being referred to an outside clinic for ADHD testing.

She feels silly walking into the building. She’s a grown woman, not a hyperactive 10-year-old boy. If there is something wrong with her, it should have been caught earlier, when she was a child. She doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t need this. She should leave—

There’s a chirp from her pocket and she pulls out her phone to check her texts. There’s one waiting, from Spencer.

Hope everything goes well today. I’m proud of you.

She sighs, puts the phone back into her pocket, and decides not to leave.

A few days later, she meets with someone at the clinic for a follow-up appointment where they tell her that they are, in fact, diagnosing her with ADHD. The clinician talks about what that means, and her next steps, and asks if she has any questions, but all Emily can do is try not to cry.

All of those things she’s struggled with, all the missed appointments, the lack of focus, being late all the time, all the shame and frustration and anger and disappointment…

How does she reconcile the fact that it wasn’t actually her fault? How is she supposed to accept that maybe she’s not a monster, a terrible person, a bad partner? Her whole paradigm has been shifted, and she doesn’t know how to deal with it.

She shows up on Spencer’s doorstep that night with a bottle of wine and tear tracks on her cheeks.

“Come in,” Spencer says immediately, as if he’d been expecting her. He walks her to the couch and gets her settled with a soft blanket and a box of tissues. He pours her a glass of wine and then snuggles up next to her on the couch with a glass of orange juice and his own soft blanket. 

“Sorry,” Emily mutters.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Spencer promises. “Do you want to talk about it, or would you rather not think about it right now?”

Emily shrugs. “It’s just so much,” she says. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“I’m here for whatever you need, Em. But I need you to know that it’s going to be okay. I know it feels like a lot has changed, but you’re still you. And now you can get the help you’ve always needed. You know?”

“I know,” Emily whispers. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

[danlaw1991]

Need to rant after the latest episode of #911onABC.

Athena instantly clocking that something was wrong when Bobby is given his medal. 🥺

The montage & moments Bobby has with the 118 truly made it feel like a goodbye. I don’t know whether I’m ready for Bobby to leave - be that retirement or possibly not making it out of the finale.

The few moments of Ravi really has me hoping that we get to see more of him in season 8. Such a brilliant character with great dynamics with others. I want to learn more about him & his life outside the 118.

Bobby’s moment with Buck… Absolutely love their relationship. Peter Krause & Oliver Stark scenes are always amazing. The reference to how far Buck has come & the easy acceptance of Buck’s new relationship with Tommy 🥹

Bobby seeing his father again just brought back all the pain from the last episode. Really hope he is able to come to a place of accepting that despite the past he truly is a hero, not just for the people in the field but also for his 118 family.

I feel, or hope, Amir is a red herring & the cartel member that was mentioned to have survived may be who actually caused the fire. Bobby saving Athena from the fire when he wasn’t able to save his family in the fire he caused… A redemption of sorts.

Really hope Bobby survives. If not his loss will impact all the characters so greatly.

The councilwoman using her position to take Mara away from #Henren. Is it ironic that her own grief & loss is causing more. Hope someone is able to help shine a light on the clear abuse of power & get Mara back where she belongs.

Can I just say that Denny pushing the guy away & telling him to get away from his sister was both heartwarming & heartbreaking. 💔 The young talent on this show is amazing.

The Eddie of it all. I can’t help but find it weird how this storyline has been handled. Him seeing Kim & then striking up a relationship instead of going to talk to his therapist is so ‘old Eddie’. I thought he was past this. I suppose it plays up the drama though.

Not surprised that Buck was able to pick up on what was going immediately after meeting Kim and that he confronted Eddie. The fact that Eddie acknowledged something was wrong. 😢

Kim herself dressing up like Shannon to help give Eddie closure is both very moving but also insane. So glad that nothing happened between the pair & it was just a catalyst for catharsis that Eddie clearly needed.

Obviously we’ll see the fallout of Marisol & Chris returning next week. Photos of Eddie & Chris on the bed must be from the finale. I am worried because Ryan stated in an interview that Eddie becomes isolated going into the next season.

Could Eddie ask Buck to look after Chris whilst he gets himself sorted, in a need to not want him to be hurt even more by his actions & trauma?

I’m both excited & nervous to see what the finale holds for us.

[billgavemeextrachips]

My housemate wants me to sweep downstairs and vacuum the common areas at least twice a week because of my cat’s dander. This is triggering a lot of shame about me being a “slob” and also worry that I won’t physically be able to keep up a routine like this because of my Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. But I can’t say no because I need a good reference when I start looking for a new place to live next month, and also I just… Can’t Say No. It’s kind of one of my issues.

 My cat (11 next month) is now on gabapentin for her arthritis pain. I can tell it’s helping her, but the only affordable option is a liquid that I have to squirt in her mouth twice a day while pinning her against me and she hates it. She tries to hide when it’s med time and cries when I pick her up anyway. So that’s a thing I have to deal with.

 Last night I actually did some Google searches about rehoming a cat and I burst into tears. (Disgusting, I know.) Money isn’t too much of an issue yet, and her “behavior problems” are mostly my housemate being an asshole. (Cat is not aggressive, doesn’t pee outside of box, she’s just struggling with grooming now that she’s older.) So I don’t think I’ll have to do it, but even just thinking about giving her up wrecks me.

 My right shoulder keeps trying to climb up to my ear due to tight muscles (painful) and I keep getting a fluttering feeling in the left side of my chest (not painful but scary.) I think these are both stress-related but don’t know how to make them stop.

 I’m supposed to help my family with Dad’s move-out this Saturday. I don’t know how useful I’ll be, being a Physical Wreck™ and all. Nor do I know what I’m walking into emotionally. Mom and Dad have been civil so far (that I’ve seen) but my brother’s birthday dinner was awkward AF and left me feeling very sad for everything we’ve lost.

 I can’t talk to my ex-therapist because she’s bought into (literally paid hundreds of dollars for some scam-ass program) a bunch of life coaching mumbo-jumbo and now I can’t be messy™ with her for even two minutes before she’ll try to make me “look for the positives” and “remember my strengths” and “create a plan” and shit.

 I can’t talk to my best friend because she has the empathy of a rock, and also she just started a new job with an insane commute so if I do call her, I’ll have to listen patiently to her rant about that for half an hour before she even asks me, “So how are things?”

 I can’t confide how I’m feeling about my parents’ divorce to either of my parents (obviously) or to my brother, because Dad straight up emotionally abused him and the last thing he needs is dad’s golden child whining to him because she feels sad.

 I can maybe talk to my kid sister or my grandmother about how I’m feeling about the family stuff, but I’ll have to tread lightly. I can’t talk to either of them about the housemate stuff because 1) my sister has no life experience here, and 2) my grandmother is a clean freak who doesn’t like cats so she’d be the opposite of helpful.

 Meanwhile my self-esteem is in the shitter because I keep ruminating on my family’s fucked-uppedness, and where’s the line between being kind versus enabling the assholes in my life, and who would ever love me, etc., etc., etc.

 And to top it all off, an employee I’ve been hounding for overdue paperwork for months just pulled a stunt that I can only describe as “malicious compliance.” I passed it on to my boss via email and told her I actually wanted to cry. (Again, ew gross, I know.)

 I must be ready for my full cyber-conversion because I’m sick of having feelings about anything.

[daja-the-hypnokitten]

Jukebox reviews part 28! For context, see my post “A Project”     under this same tag. If you want to see a full list of his EMCSA   stories, they can be found here, sorted alphabetically.And if you want to see some of his drabbles, check out his blog at @jukeboxemcsa

Double Vision

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

1/2/2016                                       mc ff

First - ok, do the Ljosalfar also exist in the world of this story? (then again, are the Ljosalfar even a distinction from the Dokkalfar that existed pre-Christian influence? I dunno, the mythology is fairly incomplete as it stands, and none of this has anythign to do with the story so why am I spending so much time on this anyway?) Second, why does getting hit on the head give Jo the Second Sight? Or did she always have the capacity for it, and the hit just catalyzed it? REGARDLESS, as none of that has anythign to do with the actual control part of the story, moving on. It's a good story. Very fantasy, but I grew up LOVING mythology, so even though I'm a little rusty on it, seeing something drawing on myth is lovely. And the idea of control that most folk dont' notice, and that even though she *does* notice it Jo can't resist? It works within the context of the story. The actual control we see is fairly pedestrian by EMCSA standards, but the worldbuilding done around it means I like this story much more than I might have otherwise. 8/10 spirals 

 Wide Awake

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

1/2/2016                                       mc mf md

This falls into the therapist abusing trust trope I strongly dislike, but outside of that it's well done and put together. If you like the trope, give this one a read! 

 Take Me Home Tonight

 date uploaded   date updated     Tags

1/9/2016                                       mc mf md

I don't know what to say about this story. It's so far out of my general realm of control I like that I have no frame of reference for it. It's half possession, half mind control of a different sort, and just not my style. But If you like dream and possession magic, give it a go? 

 Forever Your Girl

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1/16/2016                                     mc mf md cb rb

Huh, from the title I was expecting this to be a Girls(tm) story, not a superhero story, and not such a tragic one at that. Oh, it has its moments of heat, during the transformation that takes place, but the end of it is just tragic. To be forced to continue loving someone who's dead, unable to truly mourn, No matter how much heat is in the rest of the story, I can't find it hot on the whole with that layer of tragedy underlying it. it's a GOOD story, just ... another one that isn't really erotica to me. 5/10 spirals 

 Trust and Obey

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1/23/2016                                     mc ff hu

This story feels like a cross between Green Eggs and Ham and The Cat in the Hat. I get distracted by the couplets, especially the occasional slant rhyme, and honestly Dr Seuess-esque language in an erotica story is just offputting. 3/10 spirals 

 X, Y and Zee

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1/30/2016                                     mc ff

... There is no IRB in the country that would approve this story, so this isn't just self-funded, but there can't be any meaningful oversight either. Also, her work needs more footnotes. Also, she clearly needs to review what we've learned from the Stanford Prison experiment; any time a researcher directly involves themselves in the experiment, as she did, it skews objectivity, and makes it less generalizable. We also ought to be presented with the method of recruitment; the nature of the recruitment can bias who is likely to apply. Further, any experiment of this sort should have included a boiler plate "you may revoke consent at any time" clause. Which clearly X was not provided. Putting the design/framing of the story aside, this is ... well, clearly it bothers me a little bit, given my science background, in the ways that it betrays the doctor's intentions with it. Which makes sense in context, but I get distracted considering how I'd improve the experiment. And it's a solid experiment for the goal of "how can I make girls want to have sex with me," rather than "how can I test response to authority?" - they *are* two different questions. The external view of the shifting mindset is less to my taste, and X's clear distress makes this less hot than it would be otherwise. 5/10 spirals 

 Kissing Disease

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2/6/2016                                       mc ff mf fd md

Nope, I had to nope out of this one. I can't with stories of a pandemic spreading and people minimizing it until it's undeniable that it has to be worse that they say it is. I just can't. 

 Skeleton Key

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2/13/2016                                     mc mf md

This one is a lot more magic than my preference, though the sudden internal changes are fascinating and add some heat for me. And Merrion acknowledging that he's being unethical actually makes me feel better, in some ways? I at least have more hope that he'll treat Paula right after this. And she clearly is getting something out of it, too, which helps. But it does come down to just being too magic for my tastes - though if you like magical artifacts driving the control, give this one a look. 6/10 spirals 

 The Bigger They Are, The Harder They Fall

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2/20/2016                                     mc mf ff fd hm

I never quite understand how pleasure is that overwhelming for folk. It can be fun to play with, sure, but to make me completely let go around someone who puts me on edge? I don't get it and never will. Especially given the context of their interaction here. Maybe I'm just too ace to ever truly grok it, though. But the way she uses the sensation to take control, to build an effective overload induction as she does? It's well done and well written, if a bit cold for my personal preferences.  7/10 spirals 

 Zone Out

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2/27/2016                                     mc

Another induction, and one that would be *really* good for folk who have trouble staying completely focused on a hypnotist, if it were a recording rather than a text induction, as it was clearly written to be read aloud.  The way it uses the idea of focusing on something other than the hypnotist, and letting their voice (and I want to say her, because I'm hearing Lady Ru'etha's voice reading it in my head, for all it's Jukebox's words) just slip past the conscious awareness. It does, of course, include arousal and orgasm suggestions, so be aware of that if you're susceptible to text inductions, but I also recommend hypnotists read this one and take some inspiration for if playing with folk who are easily distracted when trancing. 9/10 spirals

[consumedbythemossyforest]

It's (Not) Safe Inside - Workshopped

April 22nd, 2024, 1:02pm

My therapist told me that I should start journaling. That it would be good for me to be able to get all my thoughts out on paper. Apparently it would be easier for me to be able to differentiate fantasy from reality this way. She says that if it looks ridiculous on paper, chances are it’s not real. I have to make one journal entry a day until I see her next week as my homework. I don’t exactly have high hopes but we’ll see how this goes.

April 23rd, 2024, 4:54pm

I went on a walk today. It was almost nice. I don’t really like leaving my house. My house is safe. They can’t get to me when I’m inside. But my sister showed up and basically dragged me out. Under the light, she almost looked green, but when I blinked it disappeared. I feel like I can always see Them out of the corner of my eye. Branches where there shouldn’t be branches. I remember when They first appeared or maybe They’d always been there, my siblings and I had always hated going outside, our parents had made us promise to never look too hard at the grass, at the trees, to go where we needed to be and come straight back. I always felt as if the flowers in my neighbour’s gardens were watching me and that roots would sprout from between the cracks in the sidewalk to grab me and pull me in. I’ve always associated the outside with a feeling of hunger, of being watched and followed. I always felt like prey.

After my dad died and my mom locked herself away, my sister changed. She insisted that the outside was beautiful and kind, she described it as a gentle song lulling her to sleep at night, comforting and protective. She’s the one who convinced me to seek help in the first place, and for a while, it worked. I had managed to convince myself that I was imagining the watchful eyes of what I had always referred to as Them. The trees and the vines and the grass, but with a little too much intent to just be A tree, or A vine, or The grass, They were always Them. Huh. I guess it does sound kind of silly written out on paper. Maybe this whole journaling thing will do me some good.

April 24th, 2024, 2:30pm

It’s my dad’s birthday today. He would be 46 if he were still alive. I went out, on my own this time, to visit his grave. I don’t know how, but I just knew that They would leave me be. Maybe because they don’t need my terror when they can have my sadness? I’m not totally sure, but I guess it doesn’t really matter either way. Anyway, I brought a cool golf ball that I found. It was just lying on the ground when I took that walk with my sister. He would have loved it. When I closed my eyes, it was like he was right next to me. Or at least something was right next to me. I’m choosing to believe that it was him though. I don’t want to consider who ( ̶o̶r̶ ̶w̶h̶a̶t̶) else it could have been. I left without looking at the two graves next to his. I’m not sure why, but my eyes just slid over them. They probably weren’t important, but for some reason, I can’t stop thinking about them.

April 25th, 2024, 8:42pm

I can see Them. They’re right outside my window. It’s dark outside but it’s too dark outside the window above my kitchen sink. I’m trying not to look at it because it will be real if I look at it. And it can’t be real. They can’t be real. Please don’t let them be real. At least I am safe inside. 

April 26th, 2024, 3:15am

There was a noise in the kitchen. I thought that maybe it was Charlie before I remembered that she didn’t live with me. I’m not allowed any pets in the house, which is fine by me. The doctor says I’m not capable of taking care of anything other than myself, I’m just glad that it keeps her away from Them. Anyways, when I got to the kitchen, I could have sworn that I saw a Vine slip out underneath the door. Which is obviously impossible. Inside is safe. They can’t get me when I’m inside.

April 27th, 2024, 12:00pm

I’ve plugged every possible entrance into the house. I can see Them. They’re outside. It feels like they’re waiting for something but I don’t know what. When my therapist sees this she’s probably going to send me back to the psych ward. That’s okay though. That means I will be inside and not alone. Inside is safe. They can’t get inside.

April 28th, 2024, 10:27pm

They’re inside.

Edward Robinson, time of death: Approximately 10:30pm on April 28th, 2024. 

Cause of death: Suicide.

Family: Deceased - Father, sister, and brother. Living - Mother.

April 30th, 2024, 3:08am

The Outside is beautiful and it is kind. The Green cradles me as I sleep, its song is a soft lullaby. Come join us. It is safe Outside.

[cheekycherry20]

Yea y’all guessed it. I’m still sad. It’s even worse knowing I’m doing it to myself. My health has taken an extreme toll these pass couple of weeks, I’m pretty sure I had a seizure on Saturday. But there’s nothing I can do, I’m not in control of any of my life situations.

I started working with kids for a good reason. And when I got the job I was honestly suprised. But I was ready to start a career. I made sure I payed attention, I studied, and I was receptive. I didn’t think anyone at my job really liked me, but it was ok. I started working with a kid (the sweet boy I refer to in a couple of old posts) and he completely changed my life. Everything started making sense. I was trying to get an adult drivers permit as well. I havent able to get an appointment at the dmv, but I always try. I finally felt like I was good at something, helping him helped me! I felt on top of the world! At the time, my job had a really annoying insurance policy, so I wasn’t allowed to work with certain kids. I complained every second of the day. I had my first depressive episode of the year, and I felt like everyone at the job hated being at me. The only way out was to get my license for my profession. So I scheduled my test. Soon for my sweet boy, he would start speech therapy. Another life changer. I met his speech therapist and I knew I wanted to be just like her. And it made so much since why working with my sweet boy has more appeal and came so easily to me. We were signing, and I was literally giving him a voice.but he was moving soon. I was his last therapist at my location. I started hanging out with my coworkers outside of work. They’re my first real friends I’ve ever had. I took my test and I passed. I was still sad about not seeing my baby (and not seeing a speech therapist) but my biggest issue was that I wasn’t getting hours at the job. The insurance policy thing was over (FINALLY) ! After I passed my test and complained about hours, I was finally full time. A little bit before sweet boy left, I started working with a girl close to my age. She has been difficult to work with, not because I don’t like her, but because I know I can’t help her. Of course she had other factors going on at home, but I always revert to negative self talk first. There’s nothing that I can do that will insure her independency in her adulthood and I hate myself for that. I hate not being able to help people. The kids go into emotional behaviors and I don’t know what to do sometimes. I’ve started to hate what I do for a living, because it’s not coming easily for me anymore. We’ve hired new people, and the good ones are leaving, so it’s no longer a welcoming and friendly environment. The kids come in after school so I’ve lost my hours. I still haven’t gotten my adult drivers permit either, and I can’t move out without it. My mental health has gone down tremendously. I want say it started after my sweet bit left but I don’t know. My teeth hurt because my jaw is always clenched, My cheat and back hurts because of the hyperventilation from panic attacks, I’m breaking out in hives from stress and my family has stopped talking to me. I’m usually care free when I’m high, but I’ve been getting paranoid lately so I can’t even enjoy myself. And the worst part is that my problems aren’t even that big compared to everyone around me. I feel like I’m always begging for attention.I don’t want to kms now., but I know I’m going to think about it constantly until I do. There’s so many things that I KNOW will make my situation better, but until I get my drivers license I can’t start on anything. I’m trapped in the cycle with no foreseeable way out.

[subwaysurf45]

Code Star

Summary: a code word you and Bucky share is used; but it’s not in a good way.

Warning: panic attack, ripping out hair, addiction(little bit)

Words: 2030

Masterlist!

"Agent. Agent. Copy agent?" Friday spoke through the speakers in your room, it was louder than normal and also in the middle of the night which was the reason you woke up with a gasp.

"C-copy," you spat out, you typically sleep with your mouth open, so it gets dry when you first wake.

"Mr. Barns is calling you, he says it's 'code star'." Your stomach dropped, from all the adrenaline from waking up with a scare and the code, you sprinted down the hall way.

-

It was late and you were in the kitchen, you were trying to separate from your sleeping pills because during your last mission you couldn't sleep because you forgot them, you were addicted to them. So you needed to take a step back, learn to fall asleep on your own.

After asking around there was a tea Wanda recommended, it was lavender tea and she said it's the best with honey. You were currently steeping your bag and had honey beside you.

You took the soggy bag out and turned to the compost bin, after dropping it in and turned around you almost slipped because Bucky was right there.

Standing frozen. Dead face. Staring at you.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You yelled, not caring if it woke someone up, "what's wrong with you?" You realized you clutched at your heart through your sweater.

He was on the other side of the island, but he seemed to be leaning over a bit, he looked down at your steaming mug and then back at you.

"I- I was going to say hi and then I liked the smell of your tea and then when you turned I looked up at you, I-I didn't mean to freak you out, that must have been really scary, sorry." He looked down into the cup again. "What is it?" He finally asked.

You let your guard down a bit, "lavender," you never looked away from him, "and honey." That was the most he'd ever said to you since he showed up two months ago, he stayed in his room the first month.

"Nice," he nodded, his metal arm coming up and rubbing the back of his neck.

"There's extra water, I can make you one." You knew he was going to ask for your cup, but you really need to hit the sack.

His face lit up in the dark, "perfect!" He half smiled.

You poured the other cup and steeped the another bag, then added honey as well. You both stayed where you were on either side of the island.

"Why are you up?" He asked while blowing on the tea, his voice was below normal level.

"Just can't sleep," you sigh and look over to the common room, no one was there but you really didn't want to meet his eyes.

"I get that," he spoke awkwardly and looked over as well, thinking you were studying something.

"I'm-...I'm trying to get if sleeping pills my shit therapist prescribed for me," you looked back at him, his eye brows raised and his head tilted forty-five degrees.

"Sleeping pills?"

"Insomnia."

"Oh..." he spoke to himself and looked down again, his thumb rubbing the smooth ceramic handle of the blue mug that wasn't his. "I get nightmares." He stated blankly, but he didn't look up at his statement.

"Is it..." you tried to find the right words to not trigger him, "before the war, like America...or later on…in life...?" You danced around the question, Steve had told you mentioning certain things can get Bucky really freaked out.

"My mind," he laughed sarcastically, "it likes to mix the two," he pulled one side of his mouth tight.

"Double-whammy," you whispered, then froze at the sound of a giggle, Bucky chuckled. "What?"

"No-I-I just...I get that reference," he seemed proud, his face seemed to fall quickly though, circling back, "my arm is weird, it's like my human arm but the star," he points to the red, "is like sewn in, I don't know what it means but..." he trialed off.

"Well, if you need help, just call a code star, I'll come to your room and bring you some tea, how about that?" You smile.

"What? Like a friend?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Okay," he smiled and nodded, "alright," his fingers drummed on the counter, "I'm gonna take this back to my room, but I'll remember that." He nodded and left, but caught himself at the corner to the rooms, "hey, agent," he spoke normal, you looked, "if you're gonna be my friend, don't ask 'what's wrong with me?', because trust me...I’ll talk you to your grave." He smirked.

“Noted, Sargent.” You’ve never seen him joke with you before, it felt comforting.

-

'Code star' had never been used for its newer purpose before, as the friendship and relationship grew 'code star' became 'code lavender', it happened after Bucky called 'code star' once while he was having a panic attack, you took so long to make the tea he was passed out by the time you showed up.

'Code lavender': make a tea, meet in the kitchen.

'Code star': panic attack, drop everything a come.

You sprinted down the hallway to the very last room, you could hear laboured breathing as you got closer. Typically you'd knock softly and come in quietly, not this time.

You whipped open the door to see Bucky staring slightly down on the edge of his bed, he was rocking back and forth as his fingers ripped and pulled on his long hair. His pupils blew wide and his lips curled causing his teeth to flash, he didn't even look up at you.

A loud bang from your knees hitting the hardwood didn't phase him either, you tired to duck down to meet his line of eye sight but you couldn't get down enough.

"Bucky, look at me!" You pulled his hands out of his hair, as you made him drop them to his side you found a pile of hair outside his thighs, "oh god," you whispered, your hand unlacing with his to pick up the locks, the free hand of his went straight back to tugging. "Don't do that, don't do that." You hushed and took it out again, a tuff came with it. "Bucky, look at me," you said calmer now, you needed to be the example. "Bucky, nod if you can hear me."

He didn't nod, his eyes stayed locked on your chest. They didn't move there, he was already looking there, it was like he was looking through you.

You kept his hands clumped in your right hand and your left hand began to trace around his face, starting at his cheeks that were dry, little circles led to cross the bridge the nose a couple times. You also started humming, a song you heard Bucky and Steve sing once while drunk and having fun.

His eye brows seemed to raise for a second at the tune, but he quickly fell back into his short shallow breathes. You kept going, your finger gently tracing his cleft chin, it was always something you pinched when joking around with him.

"Wake up, Bucky," you whispered after finishing the song, you started the tune again. His breathing seemed to slow a little and his almost black eyes moved around a bit, "there you go," you cupped his cheek, now just shifting your thumb back and forth. You didn't know if he'd start to pull his hair out again so you kept both the metal and flesh hand covered with your left.

His breathing went to normal, his rib cage expanding wide as he took voluntary breathes. His eyes were shut tight but you felt him lean into your hand that was still holding his cheek.

"Are you with me?" You asked softly, he leaned into your hand again, his hand slowly made it up to his face and he placed his hand over yours, gently guiding it down to his lips; his kisses to your palm were long and filled with their own language.

"I'm here," his voice cut out and became a breath, but you heard him. His eyes looked up before his head moved, he locked eyes with you and something changed.

It was like he was seeing you for the first time, eyes a little wide and confused; but knowing at the same time. They became misty the more he looked, he was never one to cry so he dropped his head to cover the tears.

"It's okay," you hushed, he dropped your hand and leaned forward, basically throwing his entire body weight onto you. You fell back to the floor and he cried in your chest, you saw some of his hair fall with him. "Let it out," your arms wrapped around him and began to rub all along his back, huge, gentle, soothing rubs.

"I-I killed you all," his voice sounded like a dog panting from his short breathes that came when he talked, "I- couldn't s-stop," his 's' slithered like snakes as he tries get sufficient air and talk.

"We're all here, just a dream." It was the same mantra, "we're all here, you're safe, it was a nightmare, you're out of it now. There you go, big breathes, you're doing great, you're a pro at this, keep breathing." You let the broken record play, he seemed to get smaller at every praise.

He sat up and leaned against the bed, Bucky pulled his sleeve around his fist to hold it tight. When he wiped his face it was aggressive, like he was mad at himself. He just stared at you like he always did, you were alway involved in his dreams so he needed to look at you to stay grounded.

"Sorry," his 's' still slurred, "I-...I'm sorry," he wanted to say something else, you could hear it in his tone. His head dropped, Bucky almost fell over at the sight of his hair, "did I do that?" He asked, his nose turned up.

All you did was nod, any verbal answer would've sounded almost grossed out or accusatory. He sighed and looked between the hair and you, he wanted to say something, he'd already stopped himself once.

"Tell me," you whispered.

"I want to cut my hair," Bucky responded softly, "I-I also want to sleep on the floor from now own." He seemed ashamed of the second ask.

"You like the cold?" You tried to figure him out.

"That and it's...comforting...I think," Bucky scratched his head, his metal hand slowing at the thin spot from tugging, "it just grounds me, I'm not used to fluffy things- nicer things."

"How about a mattress pad, you're back will scream at you in the morning." You tried to lighten the mood, he smiled a bit and then nodded. "How about you come sleep in my room tonight, just so I can keep an eye on you and if you want to sleep on my firm mattress you can hop on, how's that?" You stood and held your hand out, Bucky nodded and clapped his metal hand to yours.

You led him down the hallway and to your room, it was really quiet and almost off putting. You slept barefoot so the sound of soft footsteps from your feet was the only thing you heard, Bucky wore socks.

He went straight to your bed and felt the mattress, both hands pressing down on it to see the give it has. You felt a little happy when he was nodding in a positive way; his bottom lip also pouted out.

Bucky slipped in and you joined as well, he stayed still for a while, on his back and staring at the ceiling.

"Y'know, you can cuddle," you whispered, without another second to blink Bucky's face rested on your chest, his arm circled your body completely in a tight hug. Your hands found their way to his back and to his hair, softly lulling him to sleep, "I'll cut your hair in the morning."

"Love you," he murmured.

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter seven

Chapter Seven

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine. Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels. Chapter Warnings: major fluff word count: 3.9k From the beginning <3

Spencer wakes up to the sound of Amoreena calling for her mother and the feeling of Y/N’s arms wrapped around his middle, finding her way to being the big spoon during the night.

“Dad? Where’s my mom?” Amoreena calls again from outside Spencer's door.

“She’s in here, but don’t come in yet, give her a minute to wake up,” he calls back, hoping she listens and doesn’t come barging in.

Y/N lets out a deep sigh as she sits up, still naked under the covers from the activities from the night before but not concerned in the slightest. She gets out of bed and grabs some fresh shirts from the closet before finding both their underwear on the floor, tossing them at Spencer and telling him to put everything on.

Once they’re finally dressed she opens the bedroom door and scoops up the little one, bringing her back into the bed with them so they can all cuddle.

“What the heck?” Is all Amoreena can ask, “why are you in here?”

“We had a sleepover,” Y/N explains softly, holding Amoreena closer to her and Spencer snuggles in too. “I’m thinking about moving my stuff into here too, so that me and your dad can share and we won’t wake you up by talking at night.”

“Is that why GG’s dress is hanging up there? Are you getting married?” She was full of questions, as always.

It makes them both laugh, “what if we already got married?” Y/N teases her, poking her side lightly.

She starts to pout, real tears forming in her eyes as she pulls away from them to sit at the foot of the bed, “why would you do it without me?” they both rush to console her, wrapping her up in a group hug.

“Not for real, we were just pretending to be married honey, I promise,” Y/N tries to explain softly, “did you want me to have a wedding?”

She nods softly, “like in Enchanted, but I’m your daughter and you marry Spencer and you can have a big puffy dress and I can get one too, can I be the flower girl?”

“Of course we’ll get married for you, just the three of us can plan something okay?” Y/N compromised, making a reference Spencer didn’t understand.

“We have to do it in New York like in the movie,” Amoreena was very serious, looking at them with a stern gaze.

There was a whole world of movies and music that built Amoreena’s personality that he was going to have to learn, he was going to be spending a lot of late nights on Disney+.

“We’ll find a way,” Y/N agreed before kissing Amoreena’s forehead.

“Okay,” she smiled nice and wide, wiping her tears away and cuddling in-between Spencer and Y/N.

She turned more towards Spencer, placing her head on his chest while Y/N spooned into her. The three of them cuddled up in one knot, and Amoreena was a snuggle bug. She cuddled right in and made a tiny home in his arms and he was going to hold her for as long as she wanted to be held.

Y/N couldn’t stop smiling at him, he’d glance to her every few minutes to see her gaze hadn’t moved; she was so content seeing the little family they made, all together and happy as they snuggled up closer and closer till Amoreena felt like she couldn’t breathe anymore and pushed them both away.

“I need to go feed the chickens,” she whispered, still on Spencer’s chest as Y/N got out of the bed, “would you like to help, dad?”

He kissed her little forehead before she sat up, “I’d love to, can I put some jeans on and meet you downstairs?”

“Sure!” She cheered, jumping off the bed and running out the door. Her feet smacking the hardwood floor, making the floor creak and pop as she marched down the cold wooden steps.

“How are you feeling this morning?” He asks Y/N with a small smile, remembering what happened the night before.

She nodded softly, smiling while she suppressed a laugh, “I feel like a teenager again, like my mom's going to know I lost my virginity the second I see her.”

Spencer laughed too, “you haven’t?”

“I said again,” she laughed again, sitting back down on the bed and laying her head in his lap, “I wouldn’t say I’ve been celibate all this time, but yeah no one’s done that with me in a while, it’s normally just me and these bad boys.”

She put both hands in the air, doing jazz hands as she raised her eyebrows, “I love you,” the words had their own agenda as he said them unconsciously.

“I love you!” She wrapped her hands around his shoulders and pulled him down into a big kiss, making the classic smooch noise as they pulled apart and smiled.

“Can I take you on a date this week? Maybe Thursday night, because you don’t work on Fridays?” he felt nervous as if she wasn’t pretending to be his wife currently like she’d reject him for some ungodly reason.

“Yeah, I’d love that, my mom won't mind doing Amoreena’s bedtime routine, she’d probably love to have a sleepover at their house,” Y/N’s eyes were gleaming at the prospect of spending more time alone with him.

He placed his left hand on her stomach softly, staring at the ring on his finger before letting his eyes trail her body. She was in just a pair of underwear and a shirt that used to be her grandma's, beautiful as ever as the sunrise cast an orange glow over her.

His wife.

“Thank you,” she cut into the moment of silence, “for last night.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

She got up and sat in his lap then, straddling his hips and holding his face in her hands so she could get a good look at his chocolate eyes, she ran her thumb over his cheeks, kissing the freckle on top of his eyebrow and the tip of his nose gently, “she has your nose.”

Knowing she saw it too made his heart physically burn, it caught fire in his chest and he felt like he couldn’t breathe “yeah?”

“My mom said she looked like a Who when she was born,” she pushed his nose up with her finger like he was a pig, “it’s so perfect and cute.”

“Thank you,” he can’t help but feel emotional.

“Hey,” she teases him again, “It was my turn to say that, so bear with me for a second before I get too emotional at 7 in the morning.”

“Okay,” he whispered, ready to listen intently to how she felt about him.

“You told me something very difficult for you, that was a secret I’m sure no one else knows about, I can tell by the way you panicked last night that this is a serious anxiety you have about never being a father,” her voice was soft as she brushed his hair behind his ears, running her fingers through the curls ever so gently. “You’re a father, hopefully of two”

It made him laugh as a tear trickled down his cheek, pressing his lips together as he listened, not wanting to disrupt all the thoughts she was going to unload on him because it was a ticket into her mind. He was finally learning her feelings and what she thought about him, not just in a fairytale glow, but in the ugly as well.

“If you ever want to talk about her we can,” she changed the subject.

“Maeve was probably a wonderful woman if you loved her enough to wish you had kids with her, she’s technically the reason I have Amoreena, you wouldn’t have donated again without what happened to her,” she made a great point, bringing a positive light to the worst day of his life.

“You’re a wonderful man and I love you very much, being open with me was really appreciated, getting to do what we did last night was very special to me, so thank you,” she smiled softly before kissing him on the lips again.

“Thank you for being the person I can talk to about this stuff, it’s been really scary,” he admitted softly about to cry when they heard the front door slam close.

“And she’s off,” Y/N smiled again, pressing their noses together. “You need to go with her, she’s very impatient.”

“I know,” he smiled. “But I need to tell you that it runs a lot deeper than what you saw last night. I’m a mess in here and it’s not going away overnight because I’ve found my family.”

“I know,” she nodded ever so softly so their noses brushed again. “I am always here to talk, or we can get you a therapist or sign you up for groups, anything you need to feel better, I’m here to assist in making this beautiful brain feel more loved.”

“Thank you,” he whispered again. “So, if I planned a big date night and requested that you wear your best princess dress and meet me at the door for 6, you’d be down?” He teases her.

She couldn’t help but laugh, “sure, cutie, any colour dress do you want me in?”

“I think red would fit the theme I’m thinking of,” saying a little of his plans and not too much, unsure exactly what he wants to do with her first.

She pinched his cheeks as he smiled, “I don’t get any hints?”

“Nope, and I have chickens to feed,” he said, moving her off his lap and getting ready for the day finally.

—

They both sent Amoreena off to school with a hug and a kiss at the bus stop, exchanging I love you’s and saying they’d see her once she got home. Then Spencer kissed Y/N goodbye as she got ready for work, heading to the main house to talk to her mother about Thursday.

He knocked on the front door, being told to come in, he was family now after all.

“Good morning Spencer, would you like some breakfast?” Linda offered with a big smile, exactly like Y/N’s.

“I’d love some,” he gladly followed her into the kitchen, taking a mug of coffee and a homemade cinnamon roll from her. Amoreena already had one this morning before the bus, leaving a single missing spot in the middle of the pan.

“Would you be able to watch over Amoreena on Thursday night so I can take Y/N out on a real date?” He asks with all the confidence in the world, knowing her mother would say yes regardless.

“Oh absolutely!” She beamed, “what were you planning?”

“Can you keep a secret?” He asked before picking up his coffee with his left hand.

“That’s her grandfather's ring,” Linda pointed it out with a smile growing on her face, it was motherly pride if he’s ever seen it, “she finally did it.”

She must have told her mom the plan, her long-time dream of marrying a good person in that field. Someone to have a family with, someone to give Amoreena siblings and all the extra love in the world, and she picked him.

He nodded softly, “last night we got pretend married, and Amoreena got very upset when she learned we did that without her.”

Linda nodded with a soft smile, “they’re attached at the hip, sometimes I think Amoreena is just a clone of her and then I met you.”

He laughed through his nose, eyes wide as he smirked, “well, actually I might be her father.”

Linda sprouted the same expression Y/N had last night when she found out, “huh?”

He sighed, “I donated sperm the month before she got pregnant with Amoreena, my friends said there should be more geniuses in the world and it’s not like I was getting married any time soon.”

Linda just smiled and shook her head with that same sigh of love that must run in the family, she walked over to him and gave him a small hug as he sat at the kitchen table.

“So, Spencer, tell me about yourself?” Linda asked as she sat down beside him with her own coffee and cinnamon roll, getting to know her son-in-law for the first time ever.

He was in there, laughing and bonding with her for over an hour, seeing Y/N drive down the driveway towards work from the kitchen window with a smile. Discussing his ideas for the date, telling her about his family and the dream he always had about running away to a place like this.

“Fate is funny like that, she knows what you need and when you need it,” Bob cut into the conversation, listening from the back door for a few minutes. “you're here for a reason, Spencer.”

He felt like he was on the set of an old movie about family love that always had a happy ending, he didn’t believe that any of it was real. For a second he wondered if he’s been in a coma for the last week, that this was all just a fever dream after crashing his bike on the way to the park, it was all too perfect.

He thanked them for breakfast with a hug, becoming a hugger to fit into her family and he didn’t even mind it. It was nice to be loved truly, not just because they were obligated to, but because they wanted him in their family.

—

His next stop of the day was Penelope’s apartment, he knocked on the door softly and waited patiently for her to answer, smiling wide at the surprise of Spencer behind her door.

“I need your help,” he says before she can even welcome him.

She was still in her robe, a sleep mask over one eye and her hair standing in every direction known to man “what did you do?”

“Nothing, I need a womanly touch for the date I’m planning,” he admitted, turning pink at the embarrassment of coming to her for this.

“What’s the plan?”

“Can I tell you on the way there?”

She raised her eyebrows, “come in and give me a few minutes, you can explain why you’re wearing a ring while I change…”

“For not being a profiler, you sure are good at this,” he avoided her question as he walked into her apartment, sitting right by her bedroom door so he could talk to her through the door.

“It’s a really long story, but essentially her fiancé died when she was 23 so she’s terrified of real weddings and wanted to just tell me she loves me and call me her husband without waiting or making a big fuss about it all,” he explained it as simply as possible. Not sure if he should tell her about the chat he had with Derek. “And we found out I might be Amoreena’s real father anyway.”

She peaked her head out the door, nothing on now and not wanting him to see. It wasn’t like she got naked when she was drunk and shown him everything before, he just laughed as she smiled at him. “If you need help tracking down any other kids, I can do it?”

He felt a little betrayed but he understood, Derek and Penelope had a bond where secrets never slipped out but they did tell each other everyone else's, “he told you?”

“No, I knew you donated because they did a background check into you at the bureau, and I was the one who had to send them the files,” Penelope admitted. “I wanted you to be the one to tell me, but I don’t think you ever would have.”

He shook his head softly, “I just wanted a family one day however I could get one, and when Rossi met Joy I knew it could bring me the same kind of happiness he has with her and Kai."

“You’re going to be a wonderful dad Spencer,” she tried to not get all teary-eyed as she stood behind the door with nothing on, “anyway continue?”

She slipped back into the room and the two of them continued to yell their gossip back and forth through the door before she finally walked out in her most Penelope outfit to date, “and we’re taking my car. It’s top-down weather, finally.”

It’s not that she was a bad driver, it’s just she barely followed any rules. She drove too fast and passed people when she shouldn’t and it stressed Spencer out, but he was too in love to really be bothered by it today. Taking an hour-long journey to Richmond, pulling into the Edgar Allen Poe Museum.

He was a member here, paying them every month to take care of the grounds and the cats, even tracking down some rare pieces from Poe’s collection to donate to them. He was their favourite customer and patron, and they were very excited for him to finally introduce his new love to one of his favourite places ever.

He rented out the Enchanted Garden for Thursday night, being trusted there alone after hours and granted a key to lock up before he left. Penelope and he picked out lights and blankets, what kind of dinner they’d have and drinks.

“So I’ll make sure your picnic basket is all ready and here waiting for you to arrive,” Penelope planned, reading through the list of things she was going to do to help on Thursday afternoon. “What kind of wine does she like?”

“Oh,” Spencer took a second to think, she might want some wine but she’s also hoping to get pregnant, it could help but it could be a hindrance, he didn’t know how to reply.

“Does she not drink?”

“Can you keep a secret?” The second time he asked that question this morning.

“No fucking way,” she whispered, smacking his arm. “Already?”

“No, I’m not sure, we only tried yesterday,” he feels the anxiety in his chest as he explains it, “It doesn’t work that fast which is why I don’t know if we should.”

“Believe me, wine is a good baby-making tool,” she smiled. “I’ll add some anyway and if she does, she does, if she doesn’t oh well, you know where I live.”

It was so easy with Penelope, she understood everything he did without questioning him. Rooting for him and his future family behind closed doors, always trying to get him with someone in the years she knew him, wanting him to get all that “sweet, sweet loving” Derek raved about.

“Do you think she’ll like this? Be honest.” His anxiety slipped back up his throat and past his vocal cords.

Penelope wrapped him up in a big hug, remembering the statistic that people with Autism and anxiety sometimes relaxing better when held with a certain pressure applied. It worked every time.

“She loves you, you wouldn’t be trying for a baby or wearing that ring if she didn’t,” reassuring as always.

“Do you know anything about Taylor Swift?”

It makes her laugh as she pulls back, “why?”

“She’s Y/N and Amoreena’s favourite person on the earth, I know nothing about celebrities, you know that, and I was thinking about getting them tickets or something this summer if she’s doing anything?” He was desperate to do anything to make his girls smile. “I need a Taylor Swift crash course, is there a new Taylor Swift fan for dummies book?”

“Spencer Reid, do I have news for you,” Penelope wrapped her arm around him once again as she rocked him back and forth with glee, “Rossi’s stepdaughter is her is a socialite in New York and one of miss Swifts friends… let's see what we can do.”

And with that, they left the museum with Penelope's arm still wrapped around him as they went back to her car, listening to Taylor Swift while she spat facts out to Spencer, helping him learn everything he could for his wife and kid.

—

He was the only one home when Amoreena got off the bus, running into his arms and giving him a big hug, “Dad!” She cheered the second he held her, kissing the top of her head as he carried her back to the house. “Where is mom?”

“She’s out buying a new dress for a date we’re going on,” he couldn’t help but over exaggerate his voice when he talked to her, it made it more magical for her little world. “How was school?”

“Awesome!” She swooned, “we started our fathers day presents early cause we won't have class after next week.”

He playfully gasps, stopping abruptly in his tracks to look at her in shock, “You can’t tell me anything about it, they’re supposed to be surprise gifts!”

“I know,” she laughed wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning against his shoulder while they walked, “I just wanted you to know one is coming, you always tell me about your gifts early, like at the museum.”

“Well, thank you for telling me,” he kissed her soft forehead softly before smiling.

She was so smart, her mother had raised her to be the most caring and considerate child. She picked up on everything, she wanted to please everyone, she was the sweetest ever.

“Do you have any homework tonight?”

“Nope! Can we watch a movie?”

He just held her cheek to his in a hug while they walked, “of course my sweet Amoreena, what would you like to watch?”

“It’s a surprise,” she whispered, struggling out of his arms and to the ground before running towards the house without him.

He walks in to see her standing in front of the tv with the remote, flipping through the channels and opening Netflix. Going to her mom's profile, down to the watchlist and clicking on the Taylor Swift Reputation Tour before taking off up the stairs to go get something.

“We made this a few months ago,” it was a piece of paper that she handed to him. “It’s the rules for when mom finally got a date, you’re her boyfriend right?”

He opened the folded lined paper, “I am,” he smiled.

Boy/girlfriend rules:

Must be royalty of some kind (or smart like a wizard)

Has to know all the words to Taylor swift’s songs

Likes to read books all the time

Have to like all the candy Amoreena doesn’t so that someone can eat the leftovers from her Halloween candy bag.

Has to be able to name all the Disney princesses

Must like cats. No if’s and's or butts.

It made him laugh, every rule was clearly Amoreena’s idea and Spencer must have ticked off all the boxes if she’s calling him dad already.

“You have to learn all the words to Taylor Swift, then you’ll be her boyfriend for real,” Amoreena informed him. “We have to follow the rules.”

“Well then, put the captions on so I can sing along,” Spencer compromised.

She hugged him with a big smile “you’re the best dad in the world.”

“You’re the best daughter,” he whispered as he held her back. “You make every day better by just being here.”

“So do you,” she replied before kissing his cheek softly and settling onto the couch beside him. “Thank you for wanting to be my dad.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s.”

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 12 FINALE

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: How lovely it has been, to go on this journey with you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to every person who has liked, reblogged, or left a kind comment on this story. Combined, you all have genuinely changed my life. I'm writing more than ever, more consistently, and I'm having a blast. So if you like this story, and wish it wasn't ending, well... maybe don't worry too much. There will be a sequel of sorts, same timeline but new reader, instead focusing on Cassandra. Also oops this is hella long. And mostly dialogue. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB, Pt 11: Cadence

Chapter 12: Cadence (Reprise)

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

Truth be told, she had never expected much of anything to come from this. ‘Twas not that she thought her daughter to be talentless, or that she denied the capabilities of the servant-turned-teacher, rather that she knew just how difficult it was to keep Daniela’s attention for any measure of time. Even as the weeks went by with undeniable progress, there was a part of her awaiting the collapse of it all. How long would this instructor last? How long before they were drained of blood, either for some perceived insult, or merely out of boredom? Surely, in the end, Alcina would not need to lift a single finger.

And yet here she was, at the end of a concert, pride roaring within her chest. What had she missed? What clues had eluded her, what had changed within her child’s nature? She knew that there were hints of deeper affections, fragments of a would-be love, but she had thought them miniscule. Thought that those feelings were doomed to crash and burn, unable to live up to the expectations set by decades of romance novels. Well, maybe they had failed. Maybe, somehow, Alcina had missed something else entirely.

The thought might have sent a shiver down her spine, if she weren’t so readily distracted by praising her youngest child… or by the looming shadow of a life-changing revelation.

“Mother… we need to talk. I… I have a confession to make,” Daniela explains, hesitantly slow, but with a conviction she rarely ever showed. Taken aback by the unexpected announcement, Alcina pauses, silently awaiting some form of elaboration. Instead, Daniela takes her hand, pulling her towards a set of chairs. They sit gingerly, each feeling the weight of terrifying possibilities upon their shoulders. When she at last continues speaking, she does so without a trace of showmanship or false bravado, trading it in for heartfelt sincerity. “I love them. All of this- these lessons, this concert- has been for them. For my sweet, innocent little songbird.” So here it was, the birthplace of her fears, brought forth from her mind into reality.

“I was afraid you would say that,” Alcina muses, leaning back into the chair with a deep sigh. Something itches in the back of her throat, and she yearns for her pipe, or even just a normal cigarette to distract herself. Without one, she is left to metaphorically chew on her thoughts. Realistically, there has to be some way to deal with this, some way that she can convince her daughter of the sheer foolishness of this mess. “Daniela… how can I put this in a way you will understand, hmm?… The two of you have only known each other for three months. There is no chance that you truly love them, or them you. How close can you possibly have become?”

“When have I cared about anything for three whole months? I dedicated myself to-” Daniela is cut off by the sound of the door opening, revealing the rest of her little family. It was guaranteed that they would have heard the conversation from outside, seeing as they were all inhuman, though they perhaps intended to intervene. A single hard glance from both of the room’s occupants convinces them to change their minds. “Wait, Ava, can you get us some tea, please? Something tells me I’ll need a soothing drink soon.” Hesitating in the doorway, the butler in question eyes the both of them, naturally tempted to stay and fill the role of a therapist.

“I do believe my daughter gave you an order, Ava. Don’t tell me you have forgotten the stipulations of your agreement with Mother Miranda?” Alcina interjects. With that said, the butler finally moves, exiting with an apologetic bow. An awkward silence hangs in the air once xe closes the door behind xerself, as Daniela takes a moment to recall her place.

“Three months is a long time for me. I put all of my energy towards both them and what they taught me, almost every single day. Even when their work kept them busy for too long, I still practiced, because I wanted to make them proud! For all my flirting, I’ve never bonded with anyone this way before now,” she says, hating the way her voice gets a little shaky. No matter how much confidence she has in her own writing, it is another thing entirely to be convincing out loud, with a truth she had been hiding for so long. All of her practice had been with lies. Now she had to contest with the hope that the strength of her emotions would be enough. “That song we played together, at the end, they wrote that for me. Doesn’t that mean something?”

“Oh, my dear… I want you to be happy more than anything. But we both know that your ‘history’ is stained with a number of incidents. You have always been absorbed within those books you read, and the fantasies that they provide for you. It is one thing to enjoy these stories on the side, but another matter entirely to let them corrupt your relations with others. As your mother, it is my duty to keep you safe, first and foremost,” Alcina proclaims, sitting up straighter, trying not to let her frown evolve into a full out scowl. Beneath the table, her hands ball into fists, clutched tight to stop herself from breaking the table. In the back of her mind she could think of little other than dismembering that damned piano instructor. Focusing on the discussion at hand, she takes a deep breath before finalizing her point. “You don’t know what a healthy relationship looks like, nor what it feels like. Your books are not ideal models for reference. One- or both- of you are going to end up suffering, and that is something I cannot allow, regardless of how ‘happy’ they make you before then.”

“You’re right,” Daniela whispers in defeat… or a feigned version of it. A split second later she’s making eye contact with her mother again, lips curling up into a smile. “I didn’t want to admit it, especially not to someone as attractive, talented, and charming as my Songbird, but I didn’t have to. They understood from the very start. We talked about it, about my expectations and my shitty behavior, and we worked on it. We’re still working on it. Maybe there will be bumps along the way, just like in every relationship, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be worth it in the end. What we have is still real, and they make me want to be a better woman. I know they’ve already helped me make the change.”

Once more the door opens, making the conversation pause, as Ava near-silently brings in the requested tea. If a pin had dropped at that moment, it would have felt as ear-shattering loud as a gong. Every second that passed felt like it dragged on, stretched out by the tension in the room, as though xe was moving in slow motion. The ‘clink’ of ceramic against the table makes xer flinch, almost spilling the tea. Neither Alcina nor Daniela react, or even acknowledge xer presence with anything more than their eyes, instead remaining impassive until xe makes a hasty retreat.

“Use what you’ve learned on someone else, then. Perhaps another one of Miranda’s experiments will someday provide a suitable match. But this ‘songbird’ of yours? They’re nothing. A human, a servant, they are not worth your time, nor are they worth mine. No matter what words or songs they weave, or illusions of grandeur they show you, you will end up getting bored of them. I’m afraid it is inevitable, my dear,” Alcina says, as soon as the door is closed once more. Then she attends to her tea, with the composure of someone convinced that they had just won an argument. On the other hand, Daniela was not so quick to give in, some of her worry melting into anger.

“How can you say that? How can you be sure? We were all human, once! Even Mother Miranda was human. And my Songbird is no mere human- they are wondrous, with flowery prose and lovely melodies, with soft-lipped smiles and reassuring eyes, and don’t even get me started on how beautiful they are!” She rambles, voice getting louder with every word. All at once it is too much for Alcina, who sets down her glass a little too hard, nostrils flaring as she stares at her daughter. When Daniela speaks again, she does so with love coating her tone. “We have weathered each other’s anxieties with no signs of stopping. I promised that we would weather yours.”

“I only want you to be happy. I need you to understand where I am coming from. This may be your longest lasting infatuation so far, but you have yet to honestly convince me that this is any different from your past ‘distractions’. I’m sorry, Daniela, I simply cannot allow this to continue,” Alcina sighs, hating to break her youngest daughter’s heart like this. There was only one thing that Daniela had yet to try. Maybe two, if she was willing to resort to begging.

“Can’t you trust me enough to give us a chance? Cassandra of all people seems to understand. Bela went as far as to lie to you, for our sake! She never does anything she thinks will hurt me, or you, or any of us. Please, mother, please. How can you ever know if what I have will last, if you cut it down now? Are you going to wait forever for some ‘perfect candidate’ for me? And what if that person loves someone else? Or what if the ‘perfect’ person doesn’t exist! What if we’re stuck waiting for them like Mother Miranda waits for another child, hmm? Would you have me spend another century alone, my only memory of genuine romance being poisoned by the thought that you broke us apart?” Daniela’s words ring throughout the chamber, echoing a damning accusation, somehow more bitter than the taste they left in her mouth.

All at once, Alcina’s heart takes a hit like no other. Her hands damn-near tremble, her lungs ache, her lips purse, and her brow furrows. So be it, she thinks.

“Bring this ‘Songbird’ here. Let me talk to them.”

—————————

Goddess, you are practically vibrating at the speed of sound, palms sweaty, nervousness trashing your mind. What the hell had Daniela done? Last thing you knew, she was determined to keep your secret, even if meant being unable to celebrate with you. But now you were getting tugged along by her, while tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She had said something about “mother” and “important”. That was all the context that you had been given. When you round one last corner, pulling up in front of Lady Dimitrescu’s study, you are shown a sight that somehow makes you feel worse: Bela, Cassandra, and Ava are all resting outside of the room. They appear exhausted, and motion for you to be quiet as you approach.

“They’ve been listening in on our conversation,” Daniela admits with a whisper. Then she’s pulling you into the study, ensuring that the door doesn’t open wide enough for the eavesdroppers to get spotted. Something told you that Alcina was already well aware of their presence. “Alright, mother, here is my Songbird. What did you want to ask us?”

“Daniela… leave us. My questions are for ‘Songbird’ alone,” Alcina replies, seemingly confirming the absolute worst of your fears. This was where you would die. By her hand, without your lover by your side, after what could have been the happiest night of your life. Of course. But Daniela is not willing to go without a fight. As soon as the words leave her mother’s mouth, she is moving between the two of you, just as she had when she first called you her teacher. Before she can speak, her mother stands up and stares her down. “Don’t make me ask again- there will not be a third time.” When she still hesitates, it is your turn to be brave.

“Hey, it’s okay, we’ll be okay,” you promise her, reaching out to take her hand. Instantly she’s returning to your side, hand cupping your cheek, eyes filled to the brim with sadness. “Firefly… ‘Tell me love, we shall last until the end of days’. I love you. Nothing is going to change that, not now, not ever. We’ll be okay.” Maybe not now, you think, but you’ll be okay eventually. Cassandra and Bela, and Ava I suppose, will make sure of it.

“Okay. We’ll last until the end of days. I love you too,” Daniela says, swallowing the lump in her throat. With one last kiss she pulls away, wishing that her departure didn’t feel so much like a betrayal. She pauses in the doorway, meeting your gaze, unable to bring herself to move until you give her an accepting nod. The door swings into place with a click, sealing the room and your fate.

“So,” Alcina begins, returning to her seat as she does. For now you stay standing, unsure of just about every part of this situation, especially your upcoming role in it. “You have been deceiving me. That alone is a crime worthy of severe punishment, and yet you stooped so low as to do far, far more. I had hoped you had, somehow, managed to teach my daughter a real lesson, that you had inspired a love of music in her, that you had made an honest difference in the way she learns. But all this time… it has been nothing more than a ruse.” The last word comes out dipped in venom, acidic enough to make you flinch. Thankfully, your beloved was not the only person who had a gift with words. More than that, this was a topic that you had spent numerous nights thinking about, making you as prepared as you could ever hope to be.

“You know, as much as I desire to claim that I am that interesting, or that Daniela felt so strongly from the very start, I can do no such thing. The truth is this: Music is what brought us together in the first place. It was the catalyst for our first real interaction, the first time she ever looked at me as more than just another servant or bloodbag. We bonded because of it, and so when we went to play together, to learn, Daniela honestly did connect to it,” you explain, despite the fire in Alcina’s expression. To your surprise, she does not interrupt you, and you take it as permission to keep going. Which was very good, considering that being nervous only made you ramble more. “Music is something we’ve shared for the entirety of our relationship. Even if it’s not something she would do much of on her own, I know that she’s grown to care for it more than she might be willing to admit. And, well…

“Even if you decide that what I’ve done is unforgivable, even if I’m destined to die within the hour, I know in my heart that everything the two of us worked on still matters. Because, like it or not, she is capable of growth, of change, of progress. And even if I die, someone else will come afterwards. Daniela will get to use music as a way to forge connections for the rest of her life, now that she knows it works, now that she knows how it works. And every goddamn time that she plays, or Bela plays, or you play, she’s going to remember me. She’ll remember every moment we spent together, every piece we ever played. I’ll live on in the melodies we made. In the song that you can’t quite place, that gets stuck on loop in your head. In the song the maids sing to themselves between shifts. In the quiet evening when the rain against the window feels so much like a familiar rhythm that your daughters can’t help but start humming along, without even thinking, muscle memories in sync.”

“Are you trying to convince me that there’s no point in killing you? That, regardless, you will be in my life until the end of time?” Alcina’s eyes are narrowed, but there isn’t even a hint of anger in her tone. Just curiosity.

“No, not really. Guess I’m just making peace with my fate the best way I know how- by remembering the echoes I’ll leave behind,” you answer, pausing to wipe a few tears from your eyes. All you can think about is how much Daniela will miss you. How much pain you think she’ll go through. Because at this point, who are you trying to fool with your hope? Yourself, or the people listening?

“Hmm. I think I understand. Now, tell me… what was that you said to my daughter a minute ago, before she left the room? It sounded familiar, though I cannot place it,” Alcina questions, idly toying with her glass of tea. You’re not entirely sure why it matters to her, but you have no qualms delaying the inevitable by answering. Besides, it was a chance to talk about how much you loved Daniela (and you’d never skip such an opportunity).

“It’s a line from a poem she wrote for me. “Tell me love, we shall last until the end of days”. A promise. The song Daniela and I played together… I wrote it in response. My way of doing what she asked of me, I guess. Like I said, she’ll always have the music we shared,” you answer, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“Damn this… I can hardly believe I am asking this, yet I feel I have no choice: Tell me, do you love my daughter? Do you honestly, with your entire being, desire a future with her? Or was this a game of survival you couldn’t afford to lose, that turned out to be more ‘fun’ than you had anticipated? Show me your heart, as it is, bare as it would be if I tore it from your chest, this very moment.” There’s no room for argument in her voice, using the very same tone she reserved for maidens who got a tad too close to refusing her.

“Alright. It was a game. At first. Daniela wanted a distraction, something to entertain her. I didn’t want to die, like I had heard so many of her ‘playmates’ did. I can’t tell you when things changed, at least not for her,” you confess, with a shaky breath. Did that make you a monster? One worthy of death? If so, you wondered if it actually made you more fit to date Daniela. “For me… I just remember her smiling wide at me, hand on my cheek, having just cracked some lame joke. Next thing I knew, well, I knew. We had a spark of something, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to make her happy, you know? All the sudden there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I just wanted to see that smile again, everyday for the rest of my life.

“To answer your question: Yes. Goddess, yes. A thousand times yes. A ‘yes’ for every smile she’s ever shown me, for every butterfly in my stomach, for every time she’s held my hand, for every breath she’s stolen from my lungs, and for every single time my heart has skipped a beat in her name. I love her. I know we haven’t been together long, but the things I feel are undeniable. I will give her every part of myself, for as long as she wants me, for as long as I am blessed to live,” you pour your heart out, weaving your heartbeat into every turn of phrase, spilling your lifeblood onto the very conversation.

“And what will you do if she does change her mind? If she grows bored of you, as she has done with a dozen others?” Alcina counters without hesitation.

“I will weep. I will fall to my knees, and mourn this beautiful thing. But I will cherish every memory she leaves to me. Every moment where I am hers is a moment worth living, worth remembering. It will be better to have loved her with all my heart for a little slice of her immortality, than to love another, lesser so, for all of my life.” With that, Alcina sets her empty glass of tea onto the table, eying you with an unreadable expression. Something seems to stir in her chest, and at last the mask crumbles. She smiles.

“I see. Daniela, you may come back in now. Do not bother pretending that you have not been eavesdropping.” Not even a full second passes before the door opens, revealing a shaking Daniela, both of her sisters quite visible behind her (though they quickly move out of frame, leaving behind Ava, who gives a cheesy thumbs up as the door closes in xer face). She rushes to your side, taking your hand, looking stunned that you were still alive. But what shocks her more is what her mother says… “Of all the women I have ever known, family or otherwise, you are, perhaps, the most determined. Normally only in… ‘spurts’. Yet here you are, defying what I have come to expect of you. It almost feels as if I have been fooling myself this whole time, falsely believing that there is more than one possible outcome. So, ‘Songbird’, I say this: Three months ago, I agreed to give you a chance to prove yourself worthy of my daughter, for the sake of her happiness. Now, I suppose it is only fair that I do so once more.”

“Wait. Are you saying-” Daniela is once again cut off by her mother, who seems eager to avoid a trademark rant.

“Yes, yes I am. For the time being, the two of you have my blessing. I cannot say that I am entirely convinced of your chances at success, but, having seen the strength of your affections for one another, I sincerely hope that you will prove me wrong. Now come here, Daniela. I never got to finish telling you what I thought of your concert…”

—————————

In the glowing comfort of your girlfriend’s room, with the fireplace keeping things warm and cozy, you lay with your head against Daniela’s chest. One of her hands absentmindedly plays with your hair, and you release a sigh of bliss. Ava had assured you that xe would let Daphne know the good news, as xe thought that having one of the castle ladies visiting the servants’ quarters might cause a stir (and Daniela was far from willing to let go of you so soon). Now the two of you were just enjoying time holding each other close. Regardless of Alcina’s concerns, you knew that everything would be looking up from here. Assuming that Daniela didn’t have any more surprise confessions to involve you with.

“That was one hell of a surprise, Firefly. But I’m glad we don’t have to hide anymore. I love you, and I don’t know how long I could have survived without being open with it,” you say, a light teasing to your voice. Beneath you, Daniela chuckles, but holds you just a bit tighter. Then she places the softest of kisses to your forehead. “I’m always gonna love you, Firefly.”

“Until the end of days?” She asks, in a delighted whisper, grin practically audible.

“Until the end of days.”

—————————

Elsewhere in the castle, a caring mother takes another long, hungry drink from her glass of wine, staring intently into the fireplace. By her side is a silver-haired servant, who wordlessly watches her every move.

“There’s still a chance that this will all end horribly. Only time will tell, of course… but I can’t help worrying for her, she’s my daughter,” Alcina proclaims, gripping the glass hard enough for a web of cracks to form along its bell. But it does not fully shatter. No, it remains just steady enough to still be of use to her. For now. “Of course, you knew about this all along, didn’t you, Ava?... I know that you value how close you are with my children, and I know that they trust in you as much as I do… but if there are relationships or entanglements that I am unaware of, I expect you to tell me, or there will have to be consequences, regardless of your affiliation with Mother Miranda. Do you understand?”

Sighing, the mute servant pulls a notebook from xer pocket, opening it up to pen in a fresh script. There’s much tension in the air, and it only gets worse when Alcina catches a glimpse at what the note reads. As xe hands it to her, she scowls, and the wine glass fully breaks into countless shards. Immediately, Ava gets to work, picking up the largest of fragments with xer bare hands, refusing to complain about the resulting cuts. All the while Alcina stares into the fire, thoughts racing, wondering if maybe this time she could end her daughter’s problem before it was too late. Beginning to brainstorm ideas, she sets the notebook aside. Inside, in perfectly penned cursive, is a very, very dangerous piece of knowledge. The sort that could affect not only Castle Dimitrescu, but the entire village.

“In that case… there’s something you need to know about Cassandra- and Mother Miranda’s lovely little ‘pet’.”

[gailynovelry]

Just cleared 50k on Mindhive! As a celebration, I'm just going to drop a little snippet of the chapter I've been working on today, as a treat. Excerpt below the cut;

At a little after 4PM the next day, I meet Vertigo in the empty hallway outside the facility gym. Close to where I need to go, but not so close that he’s going to get suspicious. The cameras in the walls start to focus on me as I stop in front of one of the AI’s screen panels.

“Vertigo?”

“Nathaniel!” he chirps. “Good evening! If you want to ask after Avery—”

Guilt thumps in my chest as I think of them and Lucine, and more specifically, of how I was going to have to leave the two of them behind. “I’m sure they’re doing fine now.”

One of Vertigo’s cameras looks me up and down. “Quite. They’re almost ready to be released from Medbay. Maybe just a few more days even.” His face drifts across his screen, halfway between a smile and a flat neutrality. “I’ve been meaning to ask after you myself. Lucine was asking whether there was a way to refer a fellow trial volunteer for what she phrased as ‘some kind of [expletive] mental health vibecheck or something.’”

Uh oh. I do not need to talk to a therapist; that’s just another chance for me to fuck up somehow and get my cover blown for real. “What is the policy there, then?”

“I informed her that ReGene only offers therapy if the volunteer themself expresses a need for it.”

Phew.

“Nice of her to be concerned,” I say with a shrug, still wanting to kick the nearest wall. “Though it’s not warranted anymore. I just had a rough patch after what happened with Avery.”

“Understandable. I did as well.”

“And actually . . .” I scratch my chin, grinning at the floor. “I thought I would ask after you, Verti.”

“Really?” His smile broadens and he floats side-to-side in his screen, as if bashful. “Another reason why you are high in the now-a-polite-secret favorite category. On our first day, you all spoke to me as if I were one of you. And now it’s always you and Avery and Lucine asking how I am. Allissa and Jimothy did it too. But everyone else is always asking ‘how is everything else going, Vertigo’ and never ‘how are you, Verti.’”

For a second, I’m touched, and a little torn that this kind of interaction is so uncommon for him. But then I have to struggle against a wince as I remember the truth.

I’m only doing this as part of my escape plan.

“In any case, I am a bit sad,” Vertigo says thoughtfully. “But as Avery is recovering and no new implant malfunctions have taken place, I think I am recovering.”

“What if I had something to cheer you up?”

Every camera in the hallway zooms in on me with great interest.

I start to slide the paper out of my pocket, raising an eyebrow. “You can think of it as a present, if you wa—”

“I have never been given a present!” Verti’s digital face is practically vibrating with excitement. “I am aware of what they are — I am locating references in my “exterior knowledge” database as they speak — but I have only seen humans gifting each other before!”

“Not even a birthday present? You’re . . . two, right?”

“Two years and seven months now.”

“Congrats.” As I unfold and shake out the paper, he starts pinging around his screen like a child with too much sugar. “Okay, so, you’re pretty much stuck in the walls, which means I can’t get you anything physical in any meaningful manner. But the next best thing is data.”

“I love data! What kind of data?”

I stand on my tiptoes and hold the paper up to one of the cameras. “Words. Specifically, descriptionary words that start with V, E, R, T, I, G, and O, which could, in theory, be used to fill out a certain acronym.”

“Valorous, versatile, victorious,” Vertigo reads off. “Oooh. I would not have thought of using these words for myself.”

“I would recommend checking some definitions before you decide to use them. I don’t know how many of them will fit you, specifically. It seemed good to offer them, though.”

“I will try all of them!” A small red light appears in the corner of his camera for an instant. “I have taken a screenshot of your list and will transcribe each of these into the appropriate database. It’s been a quiet night, so I believe I will devote our remaining before-curfew hours to generating new potential acronyms. My audio channels will remain monitored. Yell if you need anything. Thank you!”

As his screen turns off, Vertigo’s cameras all go still. I walk over to a different part of the hallway and wave my arms. The cameras remain staring, fixed, just where Vertigo left them at.

Good, good, okay . . . he’s actually stopped paying attention to his video feed.

(I feel bad for him, honestly. I never realized his processing power was as limited as it is. It’d felt all-powerful when I’d first come here.)

But it’s not a good time to feel sorry for my jailer.

[mxltifaves]

Hate is a Strong Word (Bucky Barnes)

Summary: Bucky x Y/N attends a therapy session after a mission gone wrong. You both love getting on each other’s nerves and after warnings from the rest of the Avengers, you don’t listen.

A/N: I've had this fic in my drafts for like two months and I don't know why I haven't posted it so here it is. Hope you enjoy it. Also, requests are open so If you have a fic in mind feel free to send it.

Ever since you joined the avengers you’ve always gotten along with everyone except with the one and only Bucky Barnes. You two were complete opposites, Bucky was very reserved and only really opened up to certain people while you were outgoing and loved to talk. When Bucky was under Hydra’s control, he was tasked to assassinate a man who threatened Hydra but your parents were killed in the crossfire. They were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Nobody aside from Steve and Tony knew you knew about Bucky killing your parents. Despite knowing that you didn’t hold it against Bucky because he wasn’t himself.

After a mission gone wrong due to you two bickering, you ended up in therapy with Bucky. Tony thought it would be a good idea to clear the air between you two and make sure nothing like what happened, happened again. You and Bucky really didn’t want to do it but it wasn’t like you had any other choice. So there you were, sitting next to each other in a very dull room with a woman sitting across from you.

“Y/N, Bucky, I am Dr. Raynor. I will be your therapist. So tell me why you’re here today?”

As you prepared for your mission, Nat and Wanda came into your room. “Ready?” Wanda asked as they took a seat on your bed.

“Yeah, almost just a few more things,” you responded as you rummaged through your drawers.

“Are you and Barnes going to be okay?” Nat asked raising her brow

“What do you mean?” you asked confused

“Look, we've all noticed your hostility towards each other. It can go either two ways, you end up dead or between the sheets,” the read head raised her brow giving you a knowing look.

“First of all eww, I would never. Second of all, I’m not an idiot. We may argue a lot but we don’t let that get in between the job,” You responded with a serious look on your face

“Okay, if you say so,” she said, not believing you. Before you had a chance to respond, F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke over the intercom.

“Ms. y/l/n, Mr. Barnes would like to know if you are ready to go?”

“Can you tell him I need ten more minutes,” you responded, taking the opportunity to get him annoyed since you were already ready.

“He will not like that,” F.R.I.D.A.Y said

“I know,” you smirked. You sat on your bed waiting for ten minutes to pass. You knew Bucky hated when you took too long which is why you always did.

“You know he’s gonna come looking for you,” Wanda said to you

“No he won’t, he’ll just brood the entire way there,” you smiled.

“I don’t understand you two. There is some sexual tension there and you bicker to hide it,” Nat said confused but yet understood the nature of your relationship with Bucky. As much as you hated to admit it she was partially right. After chatting with Wanda and Nat for 10 minutes, you got up and made your way to the jet where Bucky was already waiting for you.

“What took you so long?” he asked annoyed

“Calm down grumpus, I had to take care of something,” you quickly defended yourself.

**Flashback**

“Because our “boss” is an arrogant ass and enjoys punishing us,” you said rolling your eyes.

“Mr. Stark brought me up to speed on your situation. So who would like to start?” she asked you and Bucky but neither of you answered. “No volunteers?” she asked looking at the two of you completely uninvested. “Okay then, y/n why don’t you start? Why does Bucky aggravate you?” she asked looking in your direction.

“I don’t know, we just can’t stand each other,” you answered

“Look the only way this will work is if you communicate,” Dr. Raynor said

“There’s nothing to communicate so I’m not sure what you want me to say,” you responded

“Okay, what about you Bucky? Why is it that you and y/n don’t get along?” she turned to Bucky who was fidgeting with his fingers.

“As she said, we just don’t,” he said coldly

“Okay, do you trust each other?” she asked

“I trust him, when it counts,” you responded feeling his eyes on you

“What she said,” he responded

“Okay, so tell me about the incident that happened during your mission,” she asked you both.

“We were supposed to gather some information on someone we’ve been trying to apprehend, it was supposed to be easy, ” you said, remembering the events that lead you here.

*Flashback*

“Are you going to be brooding the whole mission?” you asked him, making eye contact with Bucky, but he didn’t respond.

“I guess that answers my question,” you muttered

“So what’s the plan?” Bucky spoke

“He speaks,” you said, “We go in, get what we need, then get out,” you simply said, putting in the earpiece.

“So no plan,” he rolled his eyes

“That is the plan, it’s an easy mission. Just try not to get caught,” you responded.

‘Easier said than done,” he muttered

“Look we go in, you distract and I’ll use this handy flash drive to upload all their files into our servers. Quick and easy,” you explained

“Why do I have to distract them? You do it,” Bucky said

“Because you’re an old man and that doesn’t know how to use technology,” you said rolling your eyes

“I do know how to use technology, for your information,” Bucky said annoyed

“Barely,” you mumbled to yourself.

“Just hurry,” he said. You made your way over to the networking room, making sure nobody saw you or followed you. Once you made it inside you plugged in the drive downloading all the files onto it. “How we doing?” you heard over the comms.

“It’s downloading,” you said.

“Can you hurry it up?” he asked

“No, I can’t. If I hurry the files won’t properly transfer, meaning we would fail the mission and I don’t fail. So shut up and let me work,” You said as you continued typing.

“Work faster,” Bucky said causing you to roll your eyes at him. “I hate you,” you muttered thinking he wouldn’t hear you.

“Feeling’s mutual,” he said back. After a couple of minutes of silence, you heard Bucky speak. “Y/n, you got incoming,”

“I thought I told you to distract them,” you said frustrated.

“There’s only so much stalling I can do. I’m on my way to you,” he said. You tried to work faster but it was useless. The files still had about 10 percent to go, which seemed to go by slowly. You heard the doorknob move, pulling out your gun and pointing it towards it. The door was swung open only to reveal Bucky. “Easy there,” he said. “Jesus, Barnes a little warning next time. I could’ve shot you,” you rolled your eyes. “Trust me doll, you couldn’t even if you tried,” he smirked

“You wanna test that theory out?” you said annoyed.

“Later, right now we gotta get the hell out of here,” he said hurrying you.

“It’s not done,” you said pointing to the screen, only 6 percent left.

“Just leave it. We got enough,” Bucky urged you.

“No, it’s almost done. We can get it all,” you said turning back to the computer.

“Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn?” he said under his breath. “I’ll keep watch, hurry,” he said going back to the door to make sure nobody was coming.

“Shit, y/n we have to leave,” he said as he saw guards turning the corner and making their way to you.

“Wait, it’s almost done,” you said.

“Y/n, now!” Bucky yelled at you.

“Okay I got it,” you said pulling out the drive. “Told you I could do it,” you said. As you were about to exit the room, gunshots started. Bucky pulled you back inside but you were already hit in the arm. “Shit, what the hell?” you cursed looking at your bleeding arm. “Now you see why I was hurrying you?” Bucky asked

“Now is not the time, Barnes,” you yelled at him, putting pressure on your arm.

“Why because I was right and you can’t handle me being right?” he asked

“Can we just get the hell out without dying?” you said

“Can you use your gun?” he asked

“Yeah,” you said groaning in pain. Bucky was the first one to peak out the door, gunshots still firing. He started firing back landing a few shots. You went after him, firing as many shots as you could. Your arm bleeding out more as you moved. After killing most of them, there were only two men left. “I’m out,” Bucky said looking at the empty clip. “Me too,” you said back. Bucky pulled out the knife from his side pocket. He started fighting the two men, landing a few stikes on them. Eventually, the two men were on the ground. “Not bad,” you said a small smile forming. “Is that a compliment?” he raised his brow. “Never,” you shook your head smirking. “Are you okay?” he furrowed his brows. You were clearly losing a lot of blood. “Is that worry I sense?” you chuckled dryly. “Never,” he smiled at you. “Let get out of here before more of them come,” Bucky said looking back at the unconscious men.

**END FLASHBACK**

“You know thinking about it, I’m not really sure how we screwed up. I mean we got what we went there for. There might’ve been some unprecedented events but we still got what we needed,” you tried to defend yourself.

“I think it’s not really about the mission itself it’s more your relationship with each other,” Dr. Raynor said

“I’m not really sure what kind of relationship you are referring to, but like we’ve said we just can’t stand each other,” you said.

“Why do you think that is?”

“I tried to be nice when I first joined the Avengers but cyborg over here was a complete ass so I stopped trying to be nice,” You explained

“Mr. Barnes, you have anything to say?” she looked at Bucky. Bucky stayed silent not wanting to partake in the conversation.

“See? Complete ass,” you said shaking your head in annoyance. “You know what, I’m done. This is completely useless, you can give us the okay to go back on missions or you can’t I don’t care,” you said as you stood up and left the room. You got outside and let out a breath, tired from that useless therapy session. After about twenty minutes Bucky finally got outside. “You know I don’t hate you or anything,” Bucky said causing you to turn to look at him. “What?” you asked confused

“Fourteen years ago, I was sent to kills someone. There was a couple that saw so I had to kill them too. I remember their names. When you joined and saw your last name I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. I killed your parents, and I’m sorry,” Bucky said avoiding your eyes.

“I know,” you said softly

“You know?” he asked confused

“Yeah, I’ve read your file. Everyone you’ve killed while under Hydra’s control, every single person,” you said

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because I know that wasn’t you. And being angry towards you wouldn’t bring them back,” you explained.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized once again.

“I know,” you smiled warmly. “Come on, I need to eat,” you said as you started walking away. “This doesn’t make us friends right?” you stopped to ask.

“Never,” he smiled softly. “Good, we wouldn’t want that now,” you teased him.

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Goodbye - Epilogue (Captain Syverson)

MASTERLIST         P1          P2          P3          P4          P5   

A/N: I happy cried writing this. I apologize for it’s delay but sincerely hope it was worth the wait. Enjoy! 

If I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or want to be tagged; please let know!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF, language, a hint of smut, more fluffy domestic goodness, reference to PTSD

***********************************

An arid summer’s eve laid upon them yet a welcoming, cool brisk dispersed through the night’s mellow sky. It was one of those magical July nights, a night that didn’t cause you to swelter miserably. At least not as fast as usual. Y/N gazed up at the array of luminescent stars glistening down on her sighing contently. She eyed the big dipper with ease thinking back to every astrological book she’d homed over the three decades.

Her hand grazed her bulging belly soaking in the last days before her son’s arrival. She leaned her head against the cool cushion contemplating the peaceful the evening. Soon her thoughts drifted to her husband, Sy putting their two miracles, Luna and Oliver to bed. Her eldest, Oliver was the definition of a blessing in disguise. Now her baby was five and the celebration of Luna’s third birthday long past. Where did the time go…every mother greatest fear.

Briefly, Y/N closed her eyes listening to the music laced in the wind. Soon they would be outnumbered, something both of them were slowly coming to terms with. Sy cherished the swell of her belly and the fullness of her breasts secretly wishing for as many kids as humanly possible. 

Y/N, on the other hand figured three was plenty but Sy was a tricky one, a handsomely tricky man who worshipped the ground she walked on. A different man from their initially rocky start. Granted, looking back on the beginning of their relationship left a small twinge in her chest, he’d tried his damndest to make it up to her every day since leaving that hospital.

Sy had gone through hell and back clawing his way from death’s vicious grip. Rehabilitation had kicked his ass but he persevered gradually gaining strength after every tedious therapy session. Needless to say, the last couple years weren’t always roses and butterflies. Oh no, there were times when Sy admitted defeat, yelled in unbridled anger, and genuinely resented the cards he’d been dealt.

But it brought them here together, in this moment, forever thankful of their ever-growing family. And for that she would be infinitely indebted for the rest of her days. Thankfully after two intensive years of non-stop motivation and assistance, the only sign of his accident was a minor limp Y/N found absolutely loveable.

Cicadas pierced the silence as lightning bugs alit to life. Sy’s heavy steps protruded along the wood stripped floors making his way towards his magnificent wife. The swivel of the sliding door popped Y/N’s serene daze. A thunderous voice echoed; “Baby?”

Y/N hummed sensing him approach from behind. His meaty hands met the crook of her neck massaging her swollen shoulders. An uncontrollable exhale escaped her.

“Hey good lookin’.”

His lips brushed against her moisturized skin grazing her collarbone before roaming towards the corner of her lip. Taking his own cue, Sy continued his trail of hot kisses down her chest wavering towards her plump breasts. She moaned in pure bliss.

“If you keep that up, you’re going to send me into labor.”

Sy stopped, a chuckle reverberating from his chest; “Ain’t that a good thing?” His Texas twang was the equivalence of freshly churned butter, a noise so familiar her heart still soared to cloud nine.

Choosing to ignore his sass, Y/N found herself staring upwards at the stars and many constellations. Sy’s large frame settled into the chair beckoning her towards the setta lounge chair. Y/N nodded unwilling to deny her handsome husband a minute longer sliding into his lap. His heat immediately emitted to her core warming every bit of exposed skin.

“I see you made it out in one piece?”

Sy’s massive arms engulfed Y/N’s changing body perching his chin atop her shoulder.

“Hardly! If I have to read Uni the Unicorn one more damn time I might have to be committed.”

Y/N jokingly slapped his shoulder; “Oh c’mon. You love seeing Luna’s beaming smile or else you wouldn’t give in to her every night.”

“Sure, she’s cute now but wait til she’s datin.”

“Nope, nope. She’s still gonna be my sweetie.”

Sy considered his wife’s words coming to a conclusion that she was shamelessly right. His girls had him tightly wound around their fingers. He wasn’t your average fool, no he was now a family man fool. If someone told him this is where his life path would’ve led him, he’d have blatantly laughed in their face but now he saw no other future than the one right in front of him. The numerous doctors and therapists saved his life but Y/N truly revived him from the perverse melancholy of PTSD.

The woman who hung the moon, balanced his universe, the woman who miraculously gave life to two healthy children, and the woman he once stupidly shoved aside. That was in the past and for the first time in his life, Sy looked forward to the future, their future.

Together they sat tangled as one listening to nature’s melody. After leaving the city, they’d purchased ten acres ready to rear their children outside of hectic city living.

“Baby, have I told you I love you today? Because if not shame on me.”

“Only bout a million times but who’s counting.”

His arms draped around her waist tenderly rubbing her jutting stomach.

“God, you are so fucking sexy like this.”

“Like what? Bloated and gassy?”

Her sarcasm was undeniable.

“No, horny and swollen with my child.”

“Man, you really know how to get my hormones raging….”

“Seriously babe, I love seeing pregnant. It’s incredibly hot. Bigger boobs, higher sex drive, these curves, I mean who would complain?”

“Ha ha. Well, that makes one of us because I feel like a whale.”

Syverson didn’t miss a beat; “But a very sexy whale.”

“Kids go down easy?”

“If by easy you mean fifteen minutes of reading with light back rubbing, and a fight over that squirrel night light, then yes, they went down easy.”

“Thank you for the peace and quiet. Sincerely.”

“Anything for you, baby.”

“Any more thought on what to name bubba here?”

Y/N caressed her belly protectively searching for catchy names.

“What about… Henry?”

Sure enough, Y/N nodded liking the ring of it; “Henry Syverson. Sounds pretty awesome if I do say so myself.”

He held her jaw lightly guiding her to face him admiring the sparkle in her eyes.

“Well cowgirl, I can’t wait to meet him.”

“I can’t believe we’re about to be outnumbered.”

Her pulse accelerated at the terrifying notion alone but Sy remained calm, cool, and collected.

“Y/N, we’ve got this. You and me, together. We’ve mastered two already, what’s one more?”

Her newfound nerves evaporated. Y/N squirmed trying to stretch her sleepy bones. A sensational moan flowed from his lips. So, Y/N repeated her previous movement wiggling her hips for full effect.

“Darlin, that feels fucking fantastic.”

“Mmm, yeah?

Taking charge Y/N kissed him sliding her tongue along his lower lip. With every passing second the intensity skyrocketed; Y/N passionately kissed him. Syverson devoured her like a man starved deepening the connection. Breathy pants circulated around the air. Before Sy could enunciate another vowel, his zipper was down and Y/N palming his hardening dick. He was damn glad he married a minx. His head back launched against the cushion at the sensation coursing through his veins. Y/N made quick work unbuttoning his pant clasp tugging the offensive material below his knees.

Sy’s fingers danced over her hips clutching at the sheer nightie. Silently taking his cue, Y/N raised to her knees giving him full access. Sy didn’t hesitate ripping the material watching her round breasts shimmer underneath the moonlight.

“God baby. You are gorgeous.”

“And to think you almost passed all this up.”

His laugh was hesitant thinking back on his former idiotic actions. Y/N allowed him a couple seconds of consolation before snapping him out of his self-hatred inner monologue. Her hand gripped his chin forcing his gaze; “Don’t do that, honey. Our past is what saved us. You are the only man for me.”  

He plunged two fingers into her soaked pussy jolting her system. Her hips moved as Y/N fucked herself atop him. Sy watched on in awe basking in marvel.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I gotta be inside you. Now.” Choking out the final word Sy knew he wouldn’t last long at this rate. He teased her clit rubbing his bulging tip teasingly along her most sensitive part. Y/N slid down his thick cock relishing in his fullness.

Every push and pull succumbed to a harder thrust. Sy held on for dear life losing himself in her sweet essence. Fireworks sparked beneath her lids as Sy pulsated within her velvety walls. Underneath the stars, two lovers made love uninterrupted for as long as the darkness lingered. Two mind- blowing orgasms later, two lovers remained intertwined and imperfectly in love.

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

“Mommy! Dada!”

Little feet pattered down the hallway nearing with every step. Y/N’s lids were sleep heavy enveloped by muscular arms.

“The rascals are awake and on the prowl.”

“Too awake. It’s Sunday! The day definition of rest.”

“Not when you have kids, hon.”

“Quick! Kiss me before the barge in.”

Sy leaned closer admiring his wife’s morning beauty sealing the deal. Milliseconds later their bedroom door burst open as two little people climbed the chest located at the foot of the bed. Grinning smiles in tow, Oliver and Luna snuggled towards their drowsy parents. Oliver landing atop Sy’s bare chest and Luna snuggled Y/N’s welcoming bosom.

“Mama! You pretty.”

Y/N grinned at her beautiful baby girl wondering just where the little baby she gave birth to went. Her heart ached wanting to memorize every last detail.

Sy’s booming bravado could awaken an entire hotel spinning her kids into endless giggles.  

“Good morning my cubs!”

“Daddy, we’re not cubs!”

“To me you are.”

Y/N shot him a glare; Sy joined in breaking into a fit of laughter; “Who’s hungry?!”

“Me!”

“Me, me, daddy!”

Jumping up and down, they were ready to greet the day bushy-eyed and energetic. Momma was in serious need of a strong cup of peppermint tea.

“But first lemme kiss baby Hen.”

Too distracted by husband caressing her loving belly, Y/N sighed at the newly created nickname.

“Hen, huh?”

His magnetic eyes travelled to hers; “You like?”

“So much. But let’s address the real elephant in the room… What’s for breakfast?”

Oliver continued jumping as Luna squirmed in Sy’s strong arms.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Y/N feigned coyly suppressing her glee; “Hmm, I’m thinkin…...WAFFLES!!”

“My favvvvorite!!”  

Shuffles of tiny feet waddled echoing down the hallway. Sy placed a loving kiss on her forehead; “Take your time sweetheart. I’ll watch the monsters.”

“You’re a godsend.”

“Only for my girl.”

Heavy footsteps followed suit. As much as Y/N treasured the last few months of pregnancy. With that being said she was more than ready to greet her bundle of joy. Out of nowhere a pain shot through her spine down to her pelvis knocking the wind from Y/N.

“Ouch...” She rubbed her stomach; “Hungry little man?”

Again, another kick radiated her body. Y/N ventured forward heading towards the loud noise coming from the kitchen.

Splash. Glancing down, Y/N noticed a puddle between her legs staring wide-eyed; “Shit, shit, shit!”

A dull ache riveted feeling overwhelming pressure on her uterus. Warm liquid dripped down her inner thighs. This could only mean one thing; show time.

“Sy!”

No response.

“Syverson! Get your cute butt up here! NOW.”

Sy magically appeared out of breath, concern written all over his face; “What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

With her contraction temporarily paused her brain was able to formulate words; “I uh, believe my water just broke.”

“Holy shit.”

“Language, damnit!”

Sy threw her a stern spirited look; “Hi, Pot. I’m Kettle.”

“Hush it and make yourself useful. Suitcase is in the hall closet by the front door. I’m gonna grab my slippers. Meet you in a jiffy.”

An arm reached for Y/N; “Ah, ah. Not so fast. I moved them two days ago. I had this weird feeling buggin me and well, ya.”

Taking a deep hearty breath, Y/N collected her impulsive thoughts; “Okay, let’s’ get the littles buckled and do this, baby.”

“One sec.”

Locked in his hug, Sy wanted to remember every detail of Y/N, just like this, in the home they built and the family they were blessed with. Words were no longer necessary. But just as quickly, another wave of contractions hit Y/N sending her hurling over.

“Okay, moment over. Let’s get the show on the road.”

And just like that the once too painful burdens Syverson lugged with him the past years vanished never questioning his luck and life again eternally grateful to the woman who simply said I do.

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

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