#we were both so depressed but the high from it all was worth it... at the time

[foldingfittedsheets]

Here’s a story about the time I almost lost my virginity. This is of course a social construct and by a broader understanding had already been lost years earlier at a sleepover with my best friend. But I digress.

I was dating a boy in high school. I shall call him Drama Boy. DB was big into theater, he made home movies and did stage performances at his high school.

Now. I must make this notation here, because the ending to this story will be savage otherwise, but DB put entirely too much of his mental well-being on my shoulders. He was often depressed and it was my job to constantly be helping him to regulate that.

The night our story took place we had been dating for eight months. During those months had been a ludicrous amount of making out and groping, even one lusty fumble that almost ended in penetration I vetoed on the grounds of not having a condom. It’s worth noting the first time we made out I felt physically sick to my stomach but I assumed that was normal.

But our parents didn’t give us much opportunity to really do anything like we imagined real sex to be. Until he came over for a movie night and my parents left on a date.

Scandalous, some might say, of my parents to leave us unchaperoned. But my parents were very blasé about sexual topics. They knew I was well educated and careful. Their leaving was possibly a gift of privacy rather than carelessness.

So when DB arrived for our movie night, we both knew This Was The Night. The night we’d lose our virginity.

We were both nervous and excited. The weight of societal pressure blanketed both of us, convincing us that this was the most momentous night of sex either of us could ever have.

DB chose a wretched movie. We sat through the first part dutifully before we started making out sloppy style. As I’d said previously, we’d done plenty of making out and hand stuff. Which is why I noticed that DB did not seem to be as… rigid as he had on other occasions.

A kinder more mature lens has softened my perspective. He was so nervous. But at the time I was a bit offended that I wasn’t arousing enough to have him standing at full mast. Still, we forged ahead.

I sat patiently while he tried to unhook my bra, boredly watching the terrible movie in the background as he soldiered manfully toward defeating the two clasps containing the bounty of my bosom while insisting he didn’t need my help. It took about five minutes.

That out of the way we made out some more. Then DB pulled out his pièce de résistance. A condom. This was a big get for him. His family, unlike mine, were horribly conservative and of the opinion that marriage was worth waiting for. So his opportunity to secure this vital piece of equipment had been slim.

In fact, it had been so slim, that what he pulled out was an:

Unlubricated

Glow in the dark

Novelty condom

From a vending machine

At the bowling alley.

I wasn’t terribly enthused about any of those qualifiers, but I held my tongue.

Then came the worst part. DB couldn’t admit that the stress of performance had unmanned him. He continued to pretend his wobbly erection could facilitate the rigorous activity of putting on a condom. He attempted to force the dry clinging rubber down his dick as it softened like pudding under his fumbling hands.

I butted in and made with more kissing, certain that seeing me naked had been such a let down that he was going limp because of me. Surely the sight of my boobies should have been enough! Because they weren’t, I was convinced he wasn’t really into this deflowering at all.

It didn’t help that my enthusiasm for this activity was fueled purely by teen hormones rather than actual sexual attraction. Perhaps he felt the same. It was one thing to watch his penis with clinical curiosity but another to think that my young boobs didn’t excite the same lust I felt toward boobs.

Nevertheless. The condom was more or less on. With momentous energy he tried to jam our anatomy together and rolled a critical failure. His penis lost all rigidity and oozed away from insertion.

Panicking and embarrassed he exclaimed, “I think I put this on wrong!”

To my horror he began trying to remove the condom and put it back on the other way. Health instructors of ages past screamed in my head that the condom had now been stretched and unrolled.

Trying to jam it back on was certainly not safe, especially given the slackness of the anatomy in question. It would certainly tear- if he could even get it back on.

I broke out in a sweat watching him attempt the magic trick of convincing a flaccid penis that it really wanted to get better acquainted with a desiccated rubber tube prison.

“I just remembered!” I exclaimed.

He looked up at me, wretched with despair.

“I promised my parents I wouldn’t have sex tonight. I just remembered! Sorry!”

This could go down in history as one of the most bold faced and terrible lies ever told, a blatant falsehood on par with declaring the sky was green. But his face broke out in a terrible relief.

He disposed of the abused condom and I resecured my bra and we resumed watching the horrible movie, both of us relieved in our own way to set down the burden of Losing Virginity.

The next day I broke up with him.

This remains to this day one of the most savage things I’ve ever done, breaking up with someone the night after impotence.

But remember, dear reader! It wasn’t just the sex! His depression had already worn away my patience and our communication. The foibles of the night before had just illuminated the gaps where we couldn’t talk to each other properly. I was constantly comforting him over something, shoring up his brain chemistry with my relentless positivity.

I’d like to say that’s all it was, and look more charitably on my young self. But truthfully my tender pride had also been badly stung that I wasn’t worth rising to the occasion for. Comforting him over this latest mishap when my feelings were hurt was more than I could swallow.

DB took the breakup very poorly. About two weeks later he lost his virginity with the new girl he was dating. He called me to brag, sniffing through the airwaves for hints that he’d hurt me back.

When I congratulated him with utter sincerity and not a whiff of jealousy he was furious.

We stopped speaking for years, except on our mutual birthday when we’d wish each other a cordial “Happy birthday.”

He messaged me out of the blue one day years later to catch up. He was working in food service now. Was it true I was a lesbian? Yes, I assured him, that was true. He thought that was pretty cool.

Then he told me about this bisexual girl he worked with who was interested in a threesome. Did I want to have a threesome with him and his bisexual coworker?

The audacity. I couldn’t believe it. My mind filled with savage retorts like, if you understand I’m a lesbian why do you think I’d want you to be part of that? Why wouldn’t I just sleep with her without you?

But I remembered the utterly ruthless way I’d dumped him and as penance I swallowed all of the things I wanted to say and instead politely told him I was seeing someone, but thanks for the offer.

And that was it. He’d managed to shoot his shot not once, not twice, but three times, and never managed a home run. He struck out that last time, and we never spoke again.

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #4 You’re worth is more than a penny.

Imagine dis…

We all read and saw fanfictions about either Jason, Constantine, Bruce, or even Jazz raising Danny when he became younger due to Clockwork’s interference, but what if we reverse the roles?

Alfred Pennyworth was raised by Phantom.

It was early 1900 in England where it is common for children were being sold like cattle for a penny. Among the rows of yelling parents who are willing to sell a few of their children for a few pounds to help themselves or the younger ones at home, one parent was loudly exclaiming that his child is merely worth more than a penny. A nameless child with skin and bones as a body, at the tender age of 6 years old he already knew the horrors of child slavery. Some were never seen again like the ones he saw outside playing tag and others return to their parents in a body bag. He also knew that no one would want a skinny child like him so he waited for the inevitable beating at this man’s house, He refuse to call that man his father nor that dingy four-by-four wall home.

Suddenly a distinguished gentleman walked past him and he was just in awe at what he had sawed. A young man that seemed like in his early 20s has a face of youth yet has an air of maturity around them. Wearing the cleanest pair of white waistcoats and black trousers, shaggy black hair, and striking blue eyes.

It was obvious that he was an errand boy looking around for new workers, his mind supplied.

The man looked at him with raised eyebrows and couldn’t help but think that this person may buy him out of this man’s clutches and put him to work that may or may not end his life.

The older man who saw the interested look of the errand boy tried to advertise him as his worth is merely a penny.

…

Danny was merely taking a break from his kingly duties after months, years, and centuries have passed since his adventures as Danny Phantom. Visiting a newly made dimension in the eyes of the king of Infinite Realms, he made his way through the early 1900s for some sight-seeing, with the insurance from his advisers, court, family members, and consorts (Tucker & Sam) he went and enjoyed the view and contemplating that why does Clockwork give him his farewell in a form of a cryptic message such as a father of a bat needs saving from his unexpected fate,  as well this universe felt like something interesting is bound to happen.

Being the High King of the Infinite Realms the realms itself chose him as their champion and king through countless rights of ascensions throughout the years.

Seeing that child slavery is still a thing at this point in time made him want to turn around and go to another realm less depressing than this time and come back later when they abolished slavery.

Though he caught an eye on this thin scrawny little boy who is nothing but skin and bones that the tiniest gust of wind will push him on the brick pavement, the boy’s parents however saw him taking interest and tried to get rid of the boy seeing that he was nothing but an extra mouth to feed due to his “responsibility” as a parent and tried to sell him for a penny.

Danny weighed the pros and cons in this situation, raising a mortal child may be both rewarding and satisfactory but the fact that he cannot break the ancient rules to make him immortal that was placed by the Realms themselves to uphold the balance between the living and the ancient realm, but he can bend it to an extent, so that if he can extend longevity in his lifespan to at least reach a century or so.

Added to the fact that Clockwork gave a message to protect him.

Bought the boy for a penny and carried the child towards the disguised horse carriage.

Now, how to explain to his family that he acquired a mortal child?

…

The nameless boy widened his eyes in surprise as the “errand” boy actually bought and carried him gently towards a clean carriage that looked like is owned by a king.

After making him sit beside his employer, his employer began asking him questions.

Such as his age, and name. likes, dislikes, and many other confusing questions.

At the mention of not having a name his employer began to frown, looks like he has made his new employer furious and he hasn’t even begun to earn his keep.

After a tense silence, his employer declared that HIS new name would be Alfred Pennyworth, as the word Alfred means counsel as he stated that he can see his future and that he would counsel different men who wish his advice, and Pennyworth, as his father is a fool for selling him for a penny as he is worth more than that.

At the time the nameless no…, At the time Alfred didn’t know what is the warm feeling on his chest that made him long for this man’s approval. He may be naïve or far too trusting for putting his trust in a man he met for a few minutes but at the time his only thought was he had his own name that he owns.

When the carriage stopped his employer carried him out of the carriage, and what greeted him is something he would never forget.

An endless green sky stretches along the horizon, A large black castle that reaches the sky that has growing vines all over its walls, at the front an entire estate dedicated to different and extinct plant life to flourish, and rows and rows of servants lined up and dressed in the fanciest clothing for maids and for all genders bowing ever slightly greeting and welcoming back their master in unison.

He looked behind him and around him for the master of the house but when he couldn’t see one, he turned his attention to the one who bought him as he is quite sacred for upsetting for not greeting the master in his own house.

But as he turn to the man for a plea for help he caught the small smile that his employer gave him and nodded towards the directions of the servants.

That was the time he learned that the man who bought him and gave him a name is his supposed master.

…

The next few days were confusing to the young Alfred Pennyworth, as he expected to be working on the animal shed or any menial tasks yet he was treated like a prince.

Free to learn what he desired, learning skills that he would never think of learning, free to eat anything his heart and stomach desired, free to have a soft bed to sleep on as well as having toys to ensure that he was not bored, given a wide variety of possible hobbies to take his mind off things. Gained and learned philosophies around the realms as well as had great teachers in teaching him essential things in morals, science, and more. Most importantly gained a family that he never thought he would even have.

He learned how to walk silently as a ghost, be swift in terms of movements waster no action, be present like a shadow, and use any weapon at hand, one’s body is a weapon itself. Discipline thy self in any temptation known to man, to integrate oneself to be unknown, eyes and emotions betray your mind be mindful of your facial and body movement as a single doubt will get someone you love to perish, but most importantly learned his new family’s motto.

Family is family.

Simple yet a powerful motto. No matter how cruel the man who brought and gave him a new life and purpose, the man who he saw as father, maybe in making decisions to ensure that the Infinite Realms stay balanced throughout the entire realms. How ruthless are his aunts and uncle to make sure that everything in between stays in the center of the balance as too much of the brings chaos

When Alfred was merely a teen he was given a blessing by his father, to be able to live a long life while maintaining his morality. One day he may die which is true, but it will be a long time before the reaper takes him to his next adventure.

Spending time with each member of the Nightingale family are memories that will be kept deep inside his heart. His mother Sam, taught him the wonders and secrets of flora, his other father Tucker, taught him how technology is used both in hope and destruction, His uncle Dan taught him about being an impenetrable wall in both mind and body, His older aunt Jazz taught him how to read his opponents in combat as well learning the beauty of human brain, His aunt Ellie who taught and showed him the wonders of the world in terms of the scenery, delicacy and culture, His grandfather Clockwork, taught him to be a cryptic as well moving on and forward as bad things are as natural as breathing and to move on is to let the time run its course.

Last but not least his father Danny, the High King of the Infinite Realms the man who he owes his entire being and life. The man whom he respects and wishes to turn out like him, the man who is proud to call his father. Taught him a multitude of things that one would not expect from a king, Be a Gentleman. A firm handshake combined with looking the other person in the eye carries with it respect, dignity, and strength, Honor Your Father and Mother, Respect Women, Be a Man of Integrity, Take Responsibility, and Work Hard, among the advice he gave and taught to him that they put into his life through action and words.

When WW2 came to his dimension he asked his father to be able to go back as it is still integrated into his blood to fight for the country that he was born into. As well as making a name for himself, to prove to the world his worth is more than a penny, to prove that all of their learning is not to be put to waste.

With the approval of his family, he set out to make his name.

S.A.S. Armed Services, fighting in 15 different operations between ages 18 and 20. A skilled medical and front liner soldier who was decorated. He later joined MI5, as well the secret forces of the Queen and later being knighted by her majesty

…

In this present time, we all know the current Alfred Pennyworth, the kickass ninja butler who is a mystery to the Batfam and has a lot of skillsets that are both surprising and expected to the Batfam. The butler who dared to out Batman the Batman. The butler is willing and dared to ground Batman for not taking care of himself. The butler carries a shotgun out of defense and we are pretty sure he is hiding a hidden bazooka somewhere in the manor. The butler who cooked delicious food and the one who raised Bruce Wayne

…

Working for the Wayne is not set to be permanent but the moment his ward Bruce Wayne becomes a hero just like his father and brings in his own version of a makeshift family he cannot help but stay for the sake of his ward that he saw as a son.

His family was there every step of the way.

Looking at the long dinner table that is filled with food with his ward/ son and his children he can't help but look fondly at the scene in front of him.

This is why he would not eat with the rest of the Batfam, the ambitious dinner or just being complete brings him back just when he was just a little boy looking at his father for guidance.

…

The Bat family are known to be good sometimes great detectives as they were taught by the greatest detective in the world, despite their wit and intelligence they still could not figure out their grandfather/ butler.

Having no presence before WW2 is common, as many orphans joined the war to bring acknowledgment to their names and presences. So when a glowing green letter made its way towards the kitchen counter, just as Alfred took a moment to look when he immediately snatched the said letter and ripped it open to see the contents.

Now mind you this was a never occurrence as Alfred Pennyworth is the epitome of calmness and neutrality so when he tore a letter like a kid who was given his first Christmas present all noise seemed to stop to look at the wide-eyed butler.

Alfred kept reading the said letter with wide eyes ignoring the shocked look of the people around him. Immediately telling Bruce that he will be going on an immediate 2-week vacation without even concealing his own joy in his voice and quickly turned around to pack a suitcase worth.

The entire Wayne’s both adopted and not are now invested what could the letter possibly contain that Alfred Pennyworth himself becomes a kid just by reading it?

Tailing the said butler was hard, following his quick steps which indicate impatience from the patient butler as well as a small smile that indicates fondness immediately became their new case.

Stopping at a large mansion surrounded by plant life that has a gothic aesthetic to it. As Alfred entered the gate he was tackled by a small black-haired blue-eyed child immediately followed by three teens and one large buff young adult.

All of them are hugging and exclaiming joy as Alfred reciprocated each hug with enthusiasm for his age.

Who are they and how does Alfred know all of these people?

 …

PS: If someone out there wanting to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so don’t forget to tag me though.

[lovverletters]

Yandere! Prince × Royalty! Reader

Note that this is a reupload from my previous blog @hyerinrose

T/W : Possessive behaviour, murder, threats, abuse of power, implied forced marriage, controlling behaviour, the drabble kinda lowkey ass

•┈••✦ 🎀✦••┈•💌•┈••✦ 🎀 ✦••┈•

💌Yandere! Prince who were the heir to a prosperous kingdom ruled with an ironed fist by both the King and Queen.

🎀Yandere! Prince who were molded to become the perfect heir to the throne once his father passes. However it comes with a cost of his childhood being close to nonexistent.

💌Yandere! Prince who haven't lost his sanity yet because of you, his childhood friend. You were a royal too like him and the two of you bonded over the struggles of being in line for the throne together. You were the light to his dark depressing life.

🎀Yandere! Prince who grow possessive of you as you two grow older. He was already controlling over you when you were kids, not letting you having another friend other than him. But it only get worse now that you both are adults. Your beauty and worth are attracting too many suitors. He can't have that happened, you're going to be taken away from him!

💌Yandere! Prince who uses his power and influence to chase away your suitors, even at the cost of his parents being angry at him. It doesn't matter, if it mean he can keep you all to himself, that's all that matters. You matter the most to him, no one and nothing can change that.

🎀Yandere! Prince who's last straw snapped after finding out you were to be wed to another foreign royal. That night he poisoned his father and mother and set to become the new ruler of his kingdom the next day. He'd do anything, if it meant cancelling your engagement so you can be wed to him instead.

Drabble under the cut!

💌Short Drabble bc why tf not :

You were currently in a carriage and on your way to pay your friend a visit. After receiving the devastating news of the King and Queen passings, you immediately rushed to comfort your grieving friend, Prince Victor.

His parents sudden deaths meant that he'd rose to the throne to continue ruling his kingdom. You pitied your friend predicament, with becoming a King comes a huge responsibility.

"Poor Vic.. he must be overwhelmed and under so much pressured right now.." You muttered while looking at the scenery outside the window.

"We've arrived, your highness"

The coachman opens the carriage door and stepped aside for you to descend before bowing.You thanked him and made your way inside the palace, it's usual powerful aura felt gloomy with the loss of the King and Queen.

"[Name], how kind of you to pay me a visit"

You heard Victor's voice from behind you.Turning around you enveloped the taller man in a hug, catching by surprise. He recovered immediately and reciprocate it albeit a bit too tightly for comfort.

"Vic! I was looking for you.. and of course I would, the King and Queen are like a family to me. Also, I wanted to be there for you in this rough time"

Victor felt his face burning up at your words, oh if only you knew he was the one behind his parents deaths. You wouldn't be comforting him like you are now.

"I'm glad to hear that, [Name]. We consider you as one too"

After all, you would be part of his bloodline soon once you are wed to him after the period of mourning is over.

For now he'll just have to play up the act of grieving for his parent's deaths.

•┈••✦ 🎀✦••┈•💌•┈••✦ 🎀 ✦••┈•

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (2)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.5k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: PINING, sexual tension, sad backstory, parental issues, more than likely bad swimming terminology, probably some bad work out advice, i'm trying my best lol, tae is too much but i love him, talks of past drug use (not reader or jimin), strong language, mental health things, medication use, allusions to depression, did i say pining?, reader is horny and awkward 99% of the time, can we blame her?, mood swings, i think they are so cute together, i promise more romance is coming soon A/N: Howdy. I know we're having a pretty slow start, but I think it'll be worth it in the end. I enjoy a good slow burn, especially when there's so much awkward sexual tension involved. Thanks for reading!!!

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Waking up the next morning, I was greeted by a loud knocking on my door. Stumbling, I told whoever it was that I was on my way. The knocking stopped but was quickly followed by Violet’s loud voice. My things were here, and I needed to let the movers inside.

“Christian and Kook are here already,” She added. “Managed to get an extra pair of hands, too.”

I changed into a pair of jeans and threw on a pull over. It was not supposed to be as cold today, but I did not think a short-sleeved shirt would be enough to keep me warm. Sliding into my boots, I opened the front door.

Violet was there, her hair in a braid again, wearing a blue plaid shirt and bootcut jeans. Beside her was Jimin, a large smile already on his face. Two other men were here. I was certain I had seen one of them before. He was very handsome with a heart shaped face and soft chin, large, asymmetrical brown eyes, and downturned lips. His hair was very obviously dyed, the blue so bright when the sun hit it my eyes hurt.

The other man was less familiar. His hair was black, styled into a trendy wolf cut, with his bangs pulled out of his face into a ponytail. He had a pure, youthful, and elegant look about him, and a few piercings. There was one on his eyebrow, one on his bottom lip, and so many on each ear I could not count them all. If I could describe him in a single word, it would be cartoonish. His eyes took up most of his face, large and doe-like, with all of his other features soft and small. Like the blue haired man, he was very handsome.

This upset me more than it should have, because despite how wonderful they both looked, all I could think about was how much I preferred Jimin. It was incomparable, actually. While they were certainly my type, I could only see how not Jimin-like their features were.

“Good morning,” I greeted them awkwardly, my voice scratchy. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you both.”

“It’s such an honor to meet you,” The blue haired man’s enthusiasm caught me off guard. Despite me never making the move to shake either one of their hands, he reached for mine anyway. He reminded me of a labrador retriever, and I could imagine a tail wagging in time with his vigorous handshake. “I’m Taehyung Kim. I used to watch you, like, all the time back in the day.”

I knew that name. Studying his face a little more, it hit me. Taehyung Kim, a.k.a., The Seal of Michigan, a.k.a, V. I never understood why he had been given that last one, but it must have some sort of meaning to him because the guy lights up when anyone uses it. He was a famous snowboarder and had been to the 2020 winter Olympics. He was just a few months younger than Jimin.

“That’s very kind of you to say,” I gripped his hand back a bit more now. “I watched you at the last Olympics. You did great.”

He blushed and let go of my hand, “I didn’t win anything, but I had a lot of fun.”

That was true. The kid was brand new on the scene and let some of his nerves get to him. I had learned the hard way that hesitation could ruin a great performance, but I was sure he would do better in January. The Winter Olympics were always a few months ahead of summer, and I would surely be watching Taehyung this year. If I was going to spend time with Jimin then I would need to get along with his friends.

“It’s not always about winning,” I tried to comfort him. “I didn’t win every time either.”

That placated him. Jimin quickly introduced me to Jungkook after. He was an NHL player for the Red Wings. I admitted that I had no idea who he was and never really watched hockey before, but that only made Jungkook swear to make me an avid fan before I left Michigan. For some reason, I believed him.

It did not take long for the movers to get all of my furniture and boxes into the house. With the boys’ help, I was tipping the two men much earlier than I anticipated. All three of them insisted on helping me unpack despite me telling them I could do it on my own. The place was entirely too small for the four of us, but we managed to make it work.

I had told them my bedroom was off limits. I unpacked my clothes and put my underwear away. My room was the largest in the house. With enough space for my full-sized bed, nightstands, and dresser, I was pleased. The only downside was not having a closet, but I did not bring anything nice enough for it to really matter. It was inconvenient but not the end of the world.

I was, however, happy to see more color. My blanket was dark orange, pillowcases covered in baby pink cow print, and the otter plushie Namjoon’s mom made me was resting right in between them. I installed some simple shelving above my bed, warmly lit Christmas lights wrapped around the bars, where I displayed my books and a few of my plants. The rest were lined up on the windowsill beside the bed.

Brightly colored art now hung on the walls, a large mirror above my dresser, and a peg board for my earrings made the space feel lived in. Whatever books could not fit on my shelves got stacked and put on the nightstand. I still wanted to buy a rug and curtains, but that was on the bottom of my list of priorities.

The boys were all talking and laughing as they worked which helped me relax. I hated being trapped in quiet spaces. Finished with my room, I went to check in with them and move things around. I doubted any of them would get the knick-knacks just right.

“Don’t worry about the decorations,” I said, announcing my presence. Taehyung was staring at two of my paintings with mild panic. “I’ll take that.”

Snatching the photos, I smiled at him. The living room was coming together nicely. Jungkook pushed the dark green loveseat against the wall and all of my throws were on top of it. My largest potted plant was beside it and I decided then I would keep it there. Moving the throw pillows to the floor, I started to put my wall art up. Hoseok complained that I was going to become a hoarder if I bought any more shit. Andrea, however, said that I had great taste, so I listened to her instead.

“You’re a big face of Earthy colors,” Jungkook said, looking around the house. “Lots of plants, too.”

I shrugged, “My fiancé had a lot of succulents and stuff, so I guess it rubbed off on me after a while.”

In truth, Namjoon not only had succulents and cacti, but an entire apartment filled with plants. He had a small garden in the back, vegetables and herbs growing in despite the weather in Colorado making it difficult. The man had a green thumb and loved taking care of things. I had been in charge of them once we moved in together and learned to love it. Even after he died, I couldn’t imagine not having at least five plants in the house.

I noticed the room had gone eerily quiet. I realized then what I had said. It was the first time I had spoken about Namjoon with any of them. Knowing I had made the atmosphere awkward, I tried to break up the tension.

“What colors do you like, Jungkook?”

I could physically feel the mood lighten.

“Black,” His reply was quick. I groaned. He laughed. “What? I like the clean look.”

“It’s not clean,” I argued. “It’s depressing.”

Taehyung took my side, “My house isn’t as decorated as yours, but I have more going on than either one of them. I’m a huge fan of video games and photography so I have a lot of stuff hanging up.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jimin chimed in from the bathroom. He placed himself in charge of getting that room squared away. “His place isn’t as nice as yours. It’s all cluttered and disorganized."

“Nu uh,” Taehyung argued childishly.

“Dude, you have stuff everywhere,” Jungkook shot back, handing me another picture frame.

“They’re lying,” Taehyung told me.

“You’re so full of shit, Tae,” Jungkook sighed.

“Literally the dumbest thing to lie about,” Jimin snarkily threw in from the bathroom.

“Bullies,” Taehyung was addressing me again and this time I could not help my chuckles. “They always gang up on me.”

As the boys continued to bicker, I worked. I finished hanging up the art above the sofa and got to organizing the throws. Taehyung had already pulled out my rug, and I started figuring out how I wanted to place all of the floor pillows. Namjoon never used the couch, no one in his family did, and I had become so conscious of their comfort that I always had a large array of pillows on the floor for them to use. After a few years, I had joined them, and I kept up the trend once I moved to the Springs. The sofa was little more than decoration.

“Damn, these are nice.”

Looking over my shoulder, I was surprised to see Jungkook holding up one of my medals. I was positive I had not packed it and the box he was hunched over was completely unfamiliar as well. Embarrassment and anger swelled up in my chest. I had placed Minho and Tilly in charge of coordinating with the movers so I could focus on work and training Hoseok before I left. If I had to guess, Tilly had thought it wise to ship over a large package of my most prized possessions for some God forsaken reason.

“I don’t know why those are here,” I hoped my voice sounded playful and carefree. I did not want another tense moment. “One of my friends must have packed them.”

“Holy shit,” Taehyung was now holding the medal. “These are heavy. You have so many.”

Walking over to the box, I took out the rest of the medals. Tilly had only packed four of the eight Olympic medals I owned, probably running out of room. Framed photos of me swimming, with the rest of my team, and my coach were also in the box. My swimsuit from the last Olympics I competed at was folded at the very bottom of the box, my goggles and cap wrapped up in the fabric, and underneath it was something I had not been expecting. A framed photograph.

I remembered that night as if it were yesterday. I was eighteen coming off the back of two major wins and making my mark in the athletic community. I had just moved to Denver; Victor had gotten divorced the year prior and his ex-wife moved to Colorful Colorado taking his daughter with her. My coach demanded he was close enough to see her every weekend. It really did not matter to me where I lived, so it was one of the easier decisions I had to make.

I knew Hoseok lived in the area, and we had always been friendly at the meets we had in common. I ended up getting his number from Ozzie and after getting coffee I knew we would be friends for life. The picture was taken at his New Year’s Eve Party. I needed to get laid, he had said, and he knew a few guys he thought I might hit it off with. That was where I met Namjoon.

He was a college student, fresh faced and stumbling over his words. I was charmed by him almost instantly, even if Hoseok was positive the two of us were too different to last. I could recall the smell of fireworks in the air, the way his voice cracked whenever another one would go off, and how excited his eyes looked whenever I asked him about his major. Namjoon spoke for hours about Philosophy, all of his favorite poets, and the way he believed the universe worked. He was so clumsy it was practically a disability, and the loud sounds were so nerve wracking, he flinched whenever the fireworks boomed.

Picking up the small picture, I smiled. It was taken right after midnight. Hoseok’s sister said we looked so sweet that she could not help herself. I had all but ripped Namjoon’s hair out when the countdown began, kissing him before midnight ever came. His hands rested gently on my hips, and he huffed like he had run a marathon when we finally pulled apart. His breath was hot when he went back in for more, panting into my mouth as I clung to him like an addict. It was a beautiful moment. It was a moment I would never forget.

Suddenly, I was no longer mad at Matilda. I was sure it had been her who did this. Minho would not go through so much trouble if he thought it would upset me. Either way, I was happy to have the picture. While I was no longer in love with Namjoon, my heart slowly healing itself and making space for someone new, I would never forget our time together. It was too perfect, too magical; too loving to forget.

“Is that him?” Taehyung asked. The way he said it told me that he knew what had happened. I doubted there was a person in our world who didn't know. “The guy who died?”

I nodded, “His name was Namjoon.”

“Damn, that’s rough,” Jungkook’s voice was very gentle, and I could hear the compassion in it. “Sorry to hear that. Hope you’re doing okay.”

I smiled at him and nodded, “It was a few years ago.”

Taehyung was the one who broke the moment this time and I was grateful for the reprieve.

“These aren’t all of them, right?” He pointed at the medals still in the box. "Olympic medals, I mean."

I shook my head, “No but I guess she just grabbed the ones I had at my house. The other four I keep at my school. They’re in a case in my office.”

The ones Tilly had packed away were from 2012. Andrea had been the one to convince me to bring my other medals to school. Before that I had them all stored in a box in the deepest corner of my basement. I hated looking at them. Hated everything that they represented. The only reason these had been hanging up was because I could not be bothered taking them down.

“Where should we put them?” Jungkook asked.

I shrugged, “No idea. Just keep them in the box for now.”

Truthfully, I had no intention of putting them anywhere. While happy to have the photo of Namjoon and I, my feelings on dragging these things around had not changed. I would be very upset if I lost or damaged any of this stuff. Putting everything away, save the picture, I closed the box back up and placed the photo on my coffee table. I would find a better place for it later.

Like all of the times I had been around him, Jimin bled into the background. I listened for his voice, waited for him to add something to the conversation, but he kept to himself. Even when he left the bathroom and joined the three of us, he only answered in one-word sentences and made sound effects to show he was listening. Taehyung and Jungkook seemed used to it, so I had to believe this was just how Jimin normally was.

“You should come and grab some drinks with us,” Jungkook smiled at me.

The boys were going out for a late lunch since we finished a little later than we had thought we would. I was appreciative that they had invited me out but declined the offer. All of them were disappointed.

“Why not?” Taehyung wiggled a large set of keys at me. I could not imagine what all of them could be for and the sound they made when they moved bothered me. “You worried the food’s going to suck or something?”

I shook my head, laughing, “No, it’s nothing like that. I just don’t feel comfortable going to a bar.”

Jimin smiled at me, a small, tight-lipped smile, and I almost laughed at myself when I realized I was holding my breath. I was being ridiculous. I would call Hoseok tonight to get my head screwed back on.

“It’s not a bar,” It was heavenly to hear his voice again. “Taehyung and I don’t drink. Jungkook just likes to sit at the bar so he can watch the games.”

“Oh,” I replied dumbly. “I guess I can come along then.”

Jimin offered to give me a ride while Jungkook and Taehyung rode in the hockey player's beat up Jeep. He was just as quiet on the ride to the restaurant as he was back at the house, and while I wanted to break him out of whatever shell he had put around himself, I had no idea how. We were supposed to work together and barely spoke. Ozzie was not going to be happy about this.

“What time are we getting your car?”

I jumped, not prepared for the question. His eyes were still on the road, and it looked like he was forcing himself to not look my way. It hurt my feelings, but I knew I would have to get over it. Whatever his problem was, it had nothing to do with me and I would not let it get in between our working relationship.

“Whenever you want to go,” I replied, going back to looking out of the window.

“We’ll pick it up after we eat. My mom invited you over for dinner. by the way. If you're up for it.”

This had been the most he had said all day, but his voice was off. It was embarrassing how quickly I had become attuned to his little mannerisms, but I was so sure that something was wrong with him it was eerie. His tone was flat and disinterested, and I knew I had done nothing to upset him. Something was obviously bothering him, and I would have to silently support him in my own way. I was not comfortable being more upfront and something told me that Jimin would not like my overstepping.

“I might,” I purposely kept my tone light, hoping he did not realize I could see the darkness in his eyes. Looking at him, I asked, “What is she making?”

“Beef and radish stew,” The mundane topic seemed to ease his frown. “She got a yellow corvina from the Asian market yesterday so she’s going to roast it. Do you like fish?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It sounds nice. I’ll go.”

A ghost of a smile graced his pretty face and I felt like I had won the lottery. Carefully composed, I looked back out of the window, hiding my little smile behind my hand. He was quiet again, the only sounds in the car being our breathing, but it felt lighter. Finally, I let myself admire the scenery.

Taehyung and Jungkook were already at the bar when we arrived and as soon as we sat down, the snowboarder was quick to hog all of my attention. While Jungkook watched a baseball game on the big screens, Taehyung talked animatedly about his family. Jimin was quietly sipping on a Coke in the seat next to me. It was strange to see how easily his friends ignored him. Like they knew he did not feel like talking.

“My sisters are both in college,” Taehyung continued to ramble. “Twins. It was a nightmare being the baby brother.”

I nodded along and tried my best to keep up with him. I kept getting distracted by Jimin. He barely moved and seemed to be mindlessly watching the tv. He looked so sad it broke my heart. Still, no one else said anything so I kept my thoughts to myself.

“Oh!” Taehyung gasped, noticing a few people who walked in. “I’m going to go say ‘hi.’ It was so great meeting you.”

With a bright smile, Taehyung told the boys about the group and Jungkook decided to join him. Jimin did not even acknowledge he had said anything. Leaving us alone, the restaurant was loud and filled with their chattering.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, trying to make conversation. Picking up the menu the bartender had left with Taehyung when we first arrived, I gave it a quick once over. “We can split an appetizer.”

Jimin looked tired and sad, but I did not know what to say or do for him. We were not lovers, not even friends. We were a pair of strangers who were expected to work together. This seemed much easier over the phone. I took a nervous sip of my drink.

“What are you thinking?” Just the sound of him talking eased my anxiety.

“Uh,” I had barely looked at their menu and pointed to a random item. “Fried pickles?”

Jimin smiled lazily and looked at me, his eyes amused.

“You don’t sound very sure of yourself.”

I shrugged, embarrassed. “I just said the first thing I saw.”

Putting his cup down, Jimin grabbed the menu from my hands and laid it flat on the bar. We leaned over the small paper, our knees touching. I could smell his cologne now and my mouth watered. He smelled so good I struggled to focus.

“Most of the shit here is awful,” His voice had more life in it now and I was glad to see the corners of his mouth pulled up. “Only things worth getting are the chips and salsa, fried cheese, and pasties. The pizza is fine, too, but not worth the money.”

Talking distracted him from whatever had been on his mind, and it made Jungkook and Taehyung’s behavior odd. They were obviously very close, but if I could see how much happier he looked when he was shooting the shit, how couldn’t they? They probably knew something I didn’t, but it did nothing but rub me the wrong way. My friends would annoy me until I had no choice but to talk back.

“Chips are usually pretty safe,” We both agreed on it. “Do you just want chips? I don’t mind getting you a burger or something.”

He shook his head, “Like I said, most of the shit here is awful. Don’t waste your money.”

I ordered the chips for us, and the bartender was happy to help us out. This place was pathetically empty save us and the group Jungkook and Taehyung ditched us for. They were very loud and rowdy, something Jimin said was completely normal. Apparently, they all knew one another but he hadn’t felt like spending time with any of them.

“Are you feeling alright?” I asked, heart pounding. My anxiety over the question was ridiculous, but I felt like this was a good moment to ask. We were both comfortable and the tightness around his eyes was finally eased.

“Just one of those days,” He replied, voice soft.

I sighed, “I get them, too. They’re the fucking worst.”

He chuckled darkly, “It’s like you wake up and that’s already taken all of the energy you had for the day.”

“Why’d you come to the house?” I asked, flagging the bartender for a refill. “I wouldn’t have been upset if you bailed.”

Jimin flushed, “I said I was coming so I came.”

No, I thought, you thought I was going to be mad if you hadn’t shown up. Hamilton had this poor kid so fucked up and scared it pissed me off. As long as I knew Matt, he had always been an ass, but to think he had his trainee putting shit before his mental health and wellbeing made whatever sliver of respect I had for him vanish.

I took a long sip of my drink, “We can’t work together if you don’t talk to me. That will piss me off way more than you canceling on me.”

“Okay,” He let out a very large breath. “I’ll let you know next time.”

As we ate our chips, we moved into safer waters. Jimin was still less talkative in person, but nowhere near as tense as he had been all morning. I found that music was one of his favorite things, and I discussed my own interests in more depth and detail than I ever had before. Jimin’s taste was varied but stuck mostly in 90s R&B and soft Indie artists I had never heard of. At some point I ordered spicy wings and had to admit Jimin was right- they really were awful.

We left the other two behind to go and pick up my car. Jungkook and Taehyung seemed more than happy to watch us leave and the large table barely acknowledged my presence. Jimin accepted their happy shouts when he approached, hugging the ones who stood up to greet him, and forced one of his small, pitiful smiles at a particular brunette who kept batting her eyelashes at him. He introduced me but none of them seemed to really care. Especially the brunette.

“Let me get your number,” Taehyung said to me, holding out a hand for my phone. “We need to hang out again.”

I was nervous about giving him a way to contact me. He reminded me of Tilly, though ten times more energetic, and she always found a way to get on my nerves (the box being one of many examples). Taehyung had yet to overstep the imaginary boundaries I had, but his complete lack of personal space etiquette was astounding. He touched me more in one day than any of my friends in an entire year. He seemed like the type of person to text every day and send a million pictures of himself doing random shit. Even with that in mind, I handed my phone over. He was too nice to say no to.

“Do you like sushi?” Taehyung asked, handing me my phone. “There’s a great place in Detroit we can go to.”

The idea of being trapped in a car with the snowboarder for 45 minutes was not appealing. I could only imagine how much he could talk when he was really excited about something. I would entertain the idea if Jungkook or Jimin came as a buffer, especially if one of them could sit up front. Taehyung yapping away in my ear would give me the biggest migraine I had ever had, and my anxiety over not being entirely focused on the road would make me snippy and rude.

“Only if I can come,” Jungkook piped up. “You’re not going to Bash without me, dude.”

“Well yeah,” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Y/N has to meet Milo and Darcy,” He looked at me, grinning happily. “I think you would really get along.”

I had no idea who either of those people were, but I did not want to ask any questions. Jimin was inching back towards me and telling the others goodbye, and I did not want to hold him up. Taehyung started making plans that I did not pay any attention to. He could always text me when he figured out what he wanted.

“We have to get going,” Jimin was back beside me. “Y/N’s car is sitting at the dealership. It was good seeing everyone.”

I waved at the table and started walking away before Taehyung could touch me. He was definitely a hugger. Jimin was quick to catch up with me, giggling about my “escape.” It had started to snow again, gentle flurries twisting and turning in the wind, and I had forgotten my heavy jacket at home. The long sleeve I was wearing would do nothing to keep me warm.

“Here,” Jimin taking off his jacket. “You need this more than me.”

Draping it over my shoulders, Jimin told me to zip it up. Stunned, I moved on autopilot and shoved my arms through the sleeves. Everything smelled like him, oranges and spice, and his warmth was still clinging to the thick fleece. I could not remember the last time someone had given me their jacket. Dazed, I followed Jimin out to the parking lot, eyes locked on his back. He was in nothing but a thin, black and white striped shirt.

“Thanks,” I said once we were both in the truck, already shrugging out of the light beige jacket. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He held up a hand, “Keep it. The heater is out.”

I shook my head, “What about you?”

He reached into the back and held up a purple hoodie.

“I’ll be alright.”

I put the jacket back on and buckled in. Jimin slipped into the sweatshirt and started the truck. After buckling up, he backed out of the parking lot. I caught sight of the brunette as we left. She was red faced, shouting into her phone. I looked away. Whoever she was angry with was definitely getting an earful.

“Wonder what Tom did this time,” Jimin mumbled.

“Hm?”

“Tom’s Annie’s boyfriend,” He supplied. “They’re always arguing. Worse than Jungkook and Darcy, they break up every other week, but Tom and Annie are at each other's throats every other day.”

I grimaced, “Sounds like my friends. They finally called it quits last year, but they were insufferable.”

Jimin chuckled, “So, what’s Colorado like?”

I talked to him about Andrea and Seokjin first, how we met and how much I loved their daughter. Hoseok and I’s friendship got quite a few laughs out of him, but those quickly died off when I brought up Namjoon. I told him about the day we met and the coffee date that happened a few days later, and that seemed to brighten up the mood again. Namjoon stories were bittersweet but took up such a large chunk of my life it was impossible to gloss over.

“When’s the toxic couple coming up?” He joked.

“I’m getting there,” I replied.

Hoseok and Matilda had known one another longer than the rest of us. Growing up together, no one was surprised when they finally hooked up in high school. It was, however, short lived bliss. Matilda got caught up in the wrong crowd and began doing drugs. Hoseok had tried to help her get through it, but they could never see eye-to-eye. That started their toxic cycle of getting back together, Tilly going to rehab, her relapsing, and them falling out again. It was not until she went two years ago that it managed to stick, but their relationship was too tumultuous to make it very far. They decided to stay friends and she became a constant member in our group.

“That’s crazy,” Jimin shook his head. “Happy she’s doing better now.”

“Me too.”

The rest of the drive was spent talking about Colorado and how beautiful it was. He stayed away from swimming, mostly wanting to hear about the school I worked at and the places I went to in my free time. He kept me talking for the entire 45-minute car ride, question after question keeping me on my toes. He did not like talking about himself, whenever I tried to switch the conversation to his own interests he barely responded before going back to his interrogation. Before I knew it, we were pulled into the dealership and getting down.

“You can leave,” I told him.

“I want to make sure you’re good before I go,” He replied.

The cashier was lovely, her voice bubbly and sweet as she helped me out. Jimin lingered longer than he needed to, helping me fill out my paperwork and making small talk with the dealer. I took my keys and went for a quick test drive before I was finally able to convince Jimin to leave.

The drive back was quiet. I was used to the silence when I drove, but Jimin’s voice had been soothing. Frankly, I was a bit bored without him around. I decided to call Matila and ask about my medals. She apologized but I doubted how sincere she actually was. After catching up with her, hearing all about the guy she went on a date with, and a five-minute rant about Hoseok spending way too much money on Minho’s birthday present, I hung up before she could give me a migraine. As much as I liked Tilly, she was someone I had very little patience for and her voice, high pitched and loud, was like nails on a chalkboard.

I got back in town a little after 3. Violet and Calvin were both home and watching some black and white Western. Calvin offered to make me lunch, but I was quick to decline. I just wanted some space.

As soon as I got in my apartment, I curled up in bed to take a nap. I was overwhelmed after talking so much and desperately needed to recharge. I set an alarm for 5 so I could make it over to the Park house in time for dinner. Quickly sending a quick text to Hoseok, I turned on thunderstorm sounds and closed my eyes.

Na-Yeon and James were both excited to see me, talking about their days and asking how I was settling in. Eloise was there as well, the twins in the back room playing again. Jimin was going to be late. He had gone for a last-minute swim with Milo. When I asked them who that was, it was Eloise who answered.

“That’s Vincent’s fiancé.”

“Who?” I was even more confused.

“Taehyung,” Na-Yeon answered. “You know he hates that name as much as Jimin hates his, Lou."

Eloise blushed, her entire face turning a bright shade of red.

“Sorry,” She scratched behind her ear. Looking back at me, she sighed, “We went to school together. Old habit.”

Now V made sense. It never occurred to me that Jungkook and Taehyung could have their own American names, and neither one introduced themselves that way either. James came to take the seat beside mine, the dining table more crowded then was reasonably necessary.

“Does Jungkook have a second name?” I asked.

“Ian,” Eloise replied. “He goes by both, so I don’t think he cares as much as Tae and Jimin. I know his girlfriend uses both.”

I assumed that was Darcy. Why else would Taehyung assume she would go with us on a day trip to Detroit?

“They call him Ian on the team, too,” James chimed in. “His name is too hard.”

Namjoon never had an American name, at least, not one I had ever heard. The only person I could think of was Hoseok. A lot of his friends called him Jay, something about an old nickname from school, but that was it. Seokjin just went by Jin, Namjoon went by Joon, and Minho went by…well, Minho. None of their parents used American-Friendly names, and Seokjin’s father’s English was still poor even after living here for so long.

“Y/N,” Na-Yeon brought me back to the conversation. “What banchan do you like?”

“My eomeo-nim made these delicious, braised potatoes,” I answered, thinking back on our dinners together. “Kimchi, of course. My ex made the best braised lotus roots. They were always yummy.”

Na-Yeon seemed pleased by my answer. James and Eloise started rambling about their own favorites. Unlike Namjoon, Mr.Park was a big fan of seafood. He grew up in Busan near the Jagalchi Market, which, according to him, was the largest seafood market in South Korea. Eloise talked a little about her favorite Korean dishes before jumping into what she grew up eating. Her father was Scottish and her mother French, so one night she was eating Scottish Pie and daube niçoise the next. It was fun hearing more about Eloise. I would have never guessed she was a first generation American.

“It’s something Tony and I had in common,” She added. “He learned quite a bit of French before he died. Unfortunately, my Korean is taking much longer.”

“Mine isn’t that great either,” I admitted. “Namjoon’s family spoke English and never liked to make me feel awkward. I can follow a conversation fairly well, but only if you speak slowly.”

James laughed, “I will remember that.”

The front door opened, and I could hear loud talking. Eloise sighed. Whoever was with Jimin did not pass her inspection it would seem. She and James seemed to have a small conversation with their eyes. The men were still at the front of the house. Finally, Eloise looked away and scowled.

“Must have brought Milo and Tae over,” She muttered. “I’m going to go check on the twins.”

Eloise left the table. James told me to ignore her. She and Milo did not get along for whatever reason and she chose to ignore him. It was not my business, so I accepted that explanation.

I prepared myself for a bad interaction. So far, Eloise was such a quiet and sweet person I could not imagine anyone actively disliking her. Then again, this was Taehyung’s fiancé, and he was the nicest, most bubbly person I had ever met. It did not seem likely that he would hang around bad company. It could just be a case of personalities clashing.

“Annyeong,” Taehyung greeted us brightly, immediately finding me. “Babe, come say hi.”

A massive, pale man followed in behind him. Milo was a good-looking guy, bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, with a solid build. He reminded me of the male swimmers I worked with, his huge size and bulging muscles intimidating. His fashion sense was not as good as Taehyung’s. Ill-fitting black bottoms and a Rick and Morty t-shirt that made me want to roll my eyes. I was definitely biased, my loyalties already in Eloise’s corner. I did not need to know a backstory to be weary. The dude looked enough like Matthew Hamilton to make me dislike him just off principal.

“Milo, Y/N,” Taehyung introduced, gesturing between the two of us. Behind him, Jimin snuck into the kitchen and gave his mom a kiss on the cheek as a greeting. He looked nice in his gray tracksuit. “Y/N, this is my fiancé, Milo.”

I managed a disingenuous smile, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” He replied. His voice was smokey.

“Where’s Lou?” Jimin asked, coming around to greet his father.

“Checking on Harper and Cam,” James told him.

There was not enough room for all of us to sit at the table and I ended up giving up my seat to Na-Yeon. Jimin helped her set the table while I was put in charge of gathering Eloise and the kids. Walking down the hallway, I found the kids’ playroom and knocked.

“Dinner’s ready,” I announced, poking my head inside.

The room was bigger than I thought it would be. Each side was decorated in stereotypical boy and girl colors, Cameron’s bed and wall art a wide variety of blues and teals with dinosaur decals on the walls, while Harper’s was a mix up of baby pink and white. Her bed had more stuffed animals on it than I could count and all of them seem well loved. Their toys split the room in half, a large, circle rug in the middle of it all. Most of the toys were thrown on the floor and Eloise was telling them it was time for them to clean it up.

The children looked so cute in their little matching outfits. Harper’s black hair was braided down her back and the ribbon tied at the end of it matched her cream-colored overalls. Cam’s hair was on the longer side as well, falling to his shoulders with a slight wave. His bright red converse stuck out against the rather plain outfit he was wearing, and I had to assume he put up a fight behind them. Harper started to sing the Barney song as they cleaned.

“Feeling, okay?” I asked their mother. She was sitting in the chair on Harper’s side. “You ran off pretty quickly.”

She shook her head, “It’s nothing. We’ve never gotten along.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Do you want to eat here? I’ll sit with you.”

She smiled, “We can play nice, don’t worry. Thanks, though. I appreciate you asking.”

Dinner was as uneventful as Eloise said it would be. She and Milo greeted one another and then acted as if the other did not exist. I stood up to eat, Taehyung, Milo, and Jimin with me while the others sat down. Cam was excited to talk about school and Harper rambled on and on about her imaginary friend Butter Squash. They were both very sweet and it made me miss Dani. The last time I saw her was when we went skating the weekend before I left.

Taehyung was as talkative as ever. His touches also become bolder. By the time I left, he had an arm around my shoulders and his body pressed against my side. Milo was unbothered by our closeness. He and Jimin spoke the most and again the guy I knew when no one else was around seemingly vanished. This one was too put together, too closed off, and no one, and I mean no one, seemed to care. Every time he laughed half-heartedly or nodded along with whatever Milo was talking about, I felt more confused. Why was he so hot and cold all of the time?

During my drive back home, I tentatively attempted to listen to the radio. I only lasted around a minute or so before I switched it off. I needed silence. The Parks were such a lovely family, but tonight was too much. Between unpacking and Taehyung, I was drained. Hoseok had asked me to call him when I got home but I was going to wait. If it was important enough, he would call me himself.

I fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow, my medication making it a dreamless night.

The rest of the week was quiet. I called my friends back home to check in Thursday morning and was happy about Hoseok’s progress. The kids were really liking him, and he thought he may have a permanent job for next year if I decided to keep working with Jimin. I told him not to get his hopes up.

Jimin and I spoke through text daily. He was still going about his normal routine while I brainstormed training and scheduling. By Saturday I was ready to start testing out different ideas. We both seemed eager to get started, actually. Sunday, like I expected, was very quiet. That was his mom’s day, so I tried not to bother him. Violet and Calvin kept me company.

The Andersons were nice people. Violet was always coming to the back and inviting me to join them for breakfast, and her husband enjoyed asking me about my life. Calvin was far more personable than his wife was, but they managed to balance one another out. Sunday evening was the first time I noticed Calvin’s memory issues. He had no idea who I was. I came inside and Violet had to tell him I was their daughter Nancy’s babysitter. He was under the assumption that she was still 10. I left them alone when Violet asked me to pick her up from school. She came out back a few hours later to thank me for going along with everything, and I made sure that she had my phone number in case she needed me to help out if things got out of hand.

It was still dark outside when I left Monday morning. Jimin and I agreed to meet up at 6 am to start our day, but I wanted to get to the gym early. Time to set up and get myself in the right headspace was important to me.

The location he had sent me was more remote than I had originally anticipated. Jimin owned the little gym. It had been a swim school in the past and the place he had first learned he loved the water. He and his mom went to classes together when he was young. The place had been too expensive for the previous owners to keep up with and they were planning on selling it, but Jimin bought it off of them and converted it into a public gym/pool.

In our text exchanges he called it his retirement plan, but I was sure the place meant more to him than that. He had no interest in it until after the cancer diagnosis. If I was to over analyze it, I would say he was trying to hold onto a happy memory. This was their place before sickness and death ran through his family. I would imagine anyone would want to keep something that held so much sentimental value if they could.

Pulling into the parking lot, I was first struck by two things. One, it was open and there were people inside, and two, it was huge. Most of the building was nothing but windows giving me a great view of the muscled men inside. Bright fluorescent lights made my sensitive eyes hurt, and I could hear the faint sound of music coming from somewhere near the gym. The small group of men were together, all of them lifting and spotting each other while talking, and a sense of dread filled my belly.

I was always anxious when I went to a new place, but a new gym was a nightmare. I had bad experiences in the past. Overly friendly creeps who liked to stand around and watch me while I worked out. None of the guys inside gave off bad vibes, but I was still in my car and none of them laid their eyes on me. A woman in a gym was like a drop of blood in water. I had to hope they were not sharks.

Gathering courage, I grabbed my duffle and made my way inside. A pretty, dark-skinned, young woman was sitting at the receptionist desk, and I felt more at ease. If they left her alone then maybe they would not cause me too much trouble either. The music was louder inside, and I recognized the Ciara song. It was a great one for cardio. Fighting the urge to dance, I greeted the receptionist. She put down her magazine and gave me an award-winning grin. She had a nice, dimpled smile.

“Hi there,” She had a thick, Southern accent and I could not tell you where she might be from. I was awful at telling them apart. “Do you have your membership card?”

I laughed nervously, my grip on my bag tightening. “No. I’m here to train with Jimin Park. He said I should have something on file.”

She nodded, her smile unwavering as she looked at her computer and asked for my name.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” I replied, foot tapping along to the Lil Wayne song that came on. I had this one on my own workout playlist back in 2008. I could not help mumbling the words under my breath, “She-she-she lick me like a lollipop.”

“Found you,” The girl grabbed a few sheets of paper from a pile on her side of the desk. “Just fill these out for me and we’ll get your card printed. Your fees have been paid already so no need to worry about that.”

I nodded, half listening. This song was great. Why has it been so long since I last heard it? I went to the gym all the time. I needed to put it back on my playlist. Honestly, the entire Carter III needed to find its way back into my rotation.

“My name’s Giselle if you need anything,” The receptionist pointed to a cluster of chairs right at the front entrance. “You’re super early so Christian isn’t here yet, but I’ll give you the key to the pool room so you can do whatever you need before the boss gets in.”

I smiled at her, “Thank you, Giselle.”

“Anytime, ma’am.”

It took me a few minutes to fill the paperwork out and scan my ID, but Giselle made everything as quick as she could. One of the men working out had come by to ask for some wipes to clean off a few of the machines but left without anything more than a ‘good morning’ thrown in my direction. When we passed by the rest of them on the way to the pool house, we were completely ignored, so it was safe for me to say that they would not be a problem for me in the future. Creeps were never subtle about their creepiness.

“I have to double check with Christian, but I think I’m supposed to give you a spare key,” Giselle said, unlocking the pool. “I’m just going to be sure before I promise you anything. Don’t want to get fired.”

I could tell she was joking. Jimin did not strike me as the type of guy to fire anyone over something like that. It only made sense for me to have a spare key since we would be coming around so much, and I would feel bad about disrupting the staff whenever I needed to get inside. They did not get paid enough to deal with that on top of all of the rest of their duties.

“We keep it locked until 9,” Giselle continued, leading the way inside. “Then we close it back up at 5. Maintenance comes in every Tuesday to treat the water, so you’ll have to be out of here no later than 7. Boss man knows this already so you shouldn’t have any problems with that.”

The pool room was very bland and bare bones. The smell of chlorine hung heavily in the air while the lights around the pool walls illuminated the dark room. It was very big, and I itched to go for a quick dip. The coolness of the water would be nice against my skin. I had grown hot with nerves and gotten a little sweaty.

“We have a few other staff members that will be in around the same time the boss man comes in,” Giselle continued to give me the rundown. “I’m sure he’ll introduce you to everyone just in case you need anything. I’d say make nice with Yoongi first. He’s our in-house massage therapist.”

Pointing to a door on the far-left wall, Giselle let me know that was the pool locker room and the door right next to it was a shortcut to the back offices. Management, marketing, and facility supervisors were usually all back there and I would more than likely never see them. They were not the most social people and worked from home a lot. I could tell by Giselle’s voice that she did not particularly care for management.

“Drew should be here by now,” She checked her smart watch. “She’s the general manager. I’m going to go and grab her and see about that key. She might come back to say ‘hi’ but don’t hold your breath.”

I chuckled, “That bad?”

Giselle rolled her eyes, “Drew’s fine, but Dominic is usually following her around everywhere and he’s annoying. You’ll get what I mean if you ever see them together.”

I laughed, “I’ve had my fair share of weirdos. Thanks again. I appreciate you showing me around.”

She beamed, “It wasn’t a problem. You gave me a reason to get up from the desk, so I’d say it’s a win.”

We spoke for a few more minutes until a very large, bulky man popped his head in looking for her. His black t-shirt clung to him tightly and his shorts were a hideous neon pink color. He did have a nice smile, one that took up most of his face and teeth so white they looked fake. Giselle introduced me very quickly, and the man, Sam, turned out to be one of the personal trainers on staff.

“You’re the Olympian, right?” Sam asked. Jimin must really like people who talked a lot, because I had never met more outgoing people in my life before moving here. Everyone he surrounded himself with was just full of energy, and I wondered if it was purposeful. Jimin himself was a rather quiet and sad person. “Jimin talks about you all the time.”

I laughed awkwardly, face heating, “That’s me.”

“Sick,” Suddenly an image of Sam surfing in California flashed through my mind. He just seemed like the type. “Well, I have to go and help out a client, but it was nice meeting you. Gigi, can you go back up front before Drew pitches a fit?”

Giselle sighed heavily, “Tell her I’m coming,” Looking at me she asked if I was okay on my own. “Come and get me if you need anything, okay?”

After assuring her that I was fine, Giselle left behind Sam. The two of them bickered like an old married couple, and I wondered about their relationship. He did call her a little nickname. I shook my head. Regardless, I had other things I needed to take care of before I could get lost in thought about two strangers.

Unpacking my duffle, I threw on my whistle and stopwatch before getting to work on my schedule. I had brought a lot of my personal swimming gear with me like training bands, coach communicator, and forearm fulcrum. Back in the day, I was the brand ambassador for Finis, so I had a lot of their products. The tracksuit I was wearing was from Speedo, and I had so much of their stuff for the same reason. Being a famous swimmer had its perks.

I had planned on doing a lot of drill and some short-burst efforts with Jimin. He had been without a PT for a few weeks now, and while I trusted him to stay in shape, it was no secret someone would be performing less on their own than with guidance. I did not want to over work him when he was, for all intents and purposes, been on a vacation. So, while I wanted to rush head-first into training, I would try to ease into things a bit before going full asshole on the kid. Like Victor would say, “Three times a week for three weeks.” After that, he was going to be at my mercy.

It was just past 6 when Jimin walked into the pool room. I was flipping through my training plan for the day and humming along to the music blasting through the speakers, echoing off the walls. Whoever was in charge of the playlist had a thing for the early 2000s.

“Morning,” His soft voice brought a smile to my face. He sounded tired. “What do you think about the place?”

Stealing a look at him, I had to hold back the gasp that I wanted to let out. He was wearing a black tank top and shorts giving me a great look at his skin. Embarrassed by my reaction, I internally scolded myself. I needed to get over this crush already. I was about to see a lot more of his body once he went to the back to change. I bit my lip. I had no idea how I was going to deal with him in a speedo.

“It’s very nice,” I was happy with how nonchalant I sounded. “Wasn’t expecting it to be so big.”

I wonder what else is big… I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. I really needed to get my mind out of the gutter. Scratch that- I should have dealt with this problem the second I realized it was there. I was going to force myself to call Hoseok today. He would know what to do, and if not, at least I could vent a little.

“Sleep okay?”

I jumped out of my ever-degrading thoughts.

“Yeah,” I sniffed. “Had fun with your mom? I wanted to give you two some space, so I stayed to myself.”

He smiled and I melted. Yeah, this needed to stop. I was too grown to be acting like this around a man.

“I appreciate it. We missed you at dinner, though. My dad kept complaining that things were quiet now.”

I chuckled, “Eloise and the kids not loud enough?”

He shook his head, “She didn’t come over.”

He tossed his sports bag next to mine and pulled out his swim gear. I caught a flash of his speedo and quickly looked away. The visuals going through my mind were distracting enough.

“Do you want to go over everything before I get changed?” Asked Jimin.

I shook my head, “No, go ahead. It’s going to be a chill day.”

“You got it, coach.”

I did not breathe until I heard the locker room door slam shut. Tossing my clipboard onto my bag, I roughly rubbed my face. I needed to pull myself together.

My attraction was easy to ignore and forget about when he was not in my face, but the second I got my eyes on him it was all I could focus on. I was awkward and fumbling all over the place whenever he was around. I focused on him far too much, far more than I should be due to our relationship, and it was driving me insane. I needed to take a breather, but I did not have enough time and I did not want to make him worried. Jimin seemed like the type of person who would become consumed by anxiety if he thought I was upset with him in any way. No, I would have to suck it up and get through this training session like an adult.

The locker room door opened. Jimin’s bare feet were loud against the gray, stone floor. I refused to look at him. I wasn’t ready yet. Bending over, I grabbed the clipboard and cleared my throat. I was hoping to get him in the water first, and then I could safely conduct myself in a professional way. The less skin I had to see at a time the better. I pointed at the pool.

“Like I said, it’s going to be an easy day,” He was walking away from me, and I felt the tightness in my chest lighten. “You’ve been without a trainer for a bit, and I’m not sure how intense your workouts have been since. Your warmup is just 10 minutes of easy swimming, and then we’ll go over our main set.”

I heard him get into the water with a splash and relaxed. I could handle him in the water. No one looked good with those stupid goggles on. I walked to the edge of the pool, clipboard in my hand, and stole a quick look.

As suspected, he did not look as potent like this. His hair was hidden beneath a red and white cap, and blue goggles obstructed most of his face. It was impossible to make out most of his body as he glided through the water, but I got a great look at his arms. He was more muscular than I gave him credit for. He was smaller and more lean than other swimmers, but I could see why he was able to dominate.

He was very fast, but I could already tell he was pushing harder than I wanted him to. Blowing my whistle, I let him know I only wanted him swimming at 80% effort. Jimin pulled a face and lifted his goggles up. Now that he was stagnant, I got a clear look at his chest and swallowed thickly. He needed to start moving or else I might have a heart attack.

“Why?” He was incredulous.

“Like I said, I don’t want you to overwork yourself. You’ve been on a vacation for four weeks now and we need to work our way back up to more intensive sets. It’ll only be for a couple of weeks.”

He pushed back again, “I’ve been coming here every day for hours. I think I’m fine.”

I shook my head, “I’m not trying to be a dick, and I’m not calling you a liar, but I am skeptical of the quality of the training.”

“But-”

“I haven’t been here to see your routine,” I cut him off before whatever smart ass comment he was planning to say could even come out. Jimin’s annoyance was plain as day, and I was not about to put up with a tantrum. “I’m known for being a hard ass, and I’m going to push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed before. You can ask Coach Bunch about me if you want. I will make sure you’re in the best shape of your life this year, but not at the expense of getting you injured.”

He took a deep breath before responding, “With all due respect, I’ve been putting in a lot of work by myself. I don’t think I need kid gloves.”

I smirked, cocking my head to the side. “Is that what you think this is?”

“Isn’t it?” He shrugged, pouting.

He was cute when he was mad.

“Humor me,” I replied. “We do things my way for the week and if I think you’re good to go by Friday then we’ll get back to normal training. How does that sound?”

Jimin thought for a moment before smiling at me.

“I can live with that.”

I chuckled, “Good to know. Now, put your goggles back on and finish your warmup. We’re wasting time arguing.”

As I suspected, once we started our drills, he did not perform up to the standards I had for him. Even at 75% what he was capable of, I could already see the areas he needed to work on. His butterflies were beautiful, but I could pick apart his breast and back strokes. I was happy with his free swim at the end, and I was going to start there the next session. I was hoping by starting off with compliments that we could become more comfortable with one another before I had to get serious. Those breast strokes would drive me insane until he could execute them perfectly every time.

“How am I doing?” Jimin asked during a cool down, doing a few laps before we started our drills again. “I know my breast strokes aren’t that great. I’ve always struggled with them.”

At least he was self-aware, I thought.

“We definitely have stuff to work on,” I replied. “Don’t worry too much about that right now. We can start talking about it more next week.”

He sighed, annoyed, and I laughed. He was very grumpy when it came to his swimming. Not wanting to upset him again, I decided to give him something.

“I would like to watch you swim a bit more and make a plan before giving you my opinion. My coach used to do that with me, and I found it helpful.”

We trained until eight-thirty, and I looked over my notes while Jimin cooled down. We did not talk as much as I would have liked, but it was probably for the best. His body was distracting, and I did not think I was doing a very good job at hiding my reactions to him. He did not seem to notice, or he was simply sparing my feelings, either way he was happy to keep relatively quiet. We only talked about training while he was in the water, and I was grateful he was maintaining his professionalism.

“When will we be back again?” Jimin asked, his last few minutes running down on the timer. “You said Wednesday, right?”

I nodded absentmindedly, in my own little world as I flipped through my notes. I had more than I thought I would have, all of them having to do with fixing his form and how we could go about it. New exercises, grueling training days, and a few new tools that I was not sure he had ever used before, would mold him into a swimmer I would glow with pride over. Park had always been a talented man, but I wanted to see if we could reach for something more. Something bigger and better than he could have imagined. I wanted to make Matthew fucking Hamilton look like the incompetent bastard I knew him to be.

“We’re done for the day,” I sighed, clicking the alarm off. “Do you want me to come for your night swim?”

Jimin ripped the goggles off, rubbing his eyes and already going to release his cap. I bit down on the inside of my mouth. He was so pretty and soft, and the way his muscles flexed as he swam to the edge of the pool made my stomach flutter. I looked away before he hoisted himself out of the water. I did not need that image floating around in my already depraved head.

“You can come if you want,” He replied casually. “I’m mostly hitting the gym when I’m here in the evenings. I only take a dip for thirty minutes and leave.”

I hummed, fighting the urge to look at his body. I focused instead on my breathing and writing down what he had just said. I did not want to forget that. It might be useful for me in the future. If we could exercise together, it would give me an opportunity to guide him through some of my favorite tricks to help with swimming.

“Will someone else be with you?”

“Probably Jungkook and Darcy. They’re my usual gym buddies when Milo is working.”

“Darcy’s his girlfriend, right?” I wanted to see if my hunch from the other night was right.

“Yeah. They’ve been going out for a couple of years now. She’s alright. Not as shy as you.”

I snorted, “You think I’m shy?”

Then I made a critical mistake. Looking over at Jimin, I nearly choked on my own spit. His skin was perfectly smooth, not a blemish in sight, and cream-colored. His body was just as pretty as his face, smooth abs and a tiny waist that led to toned and thick thighs. The tiny scrap of red fabric covering his private area did not stop my eyes from glancing. I looked away before I started to stare.

Hoseok was going to have a field day with this.

“I know you are,” He teased, his voice so soft and sweet. I briefly wondered what he would sound like in bed. I fought desperately to rid myself of that imagery. This could not be happening right now. “You’re so shy you can’t even look at me right now.”

His cocky attitude should have annoyed me, but instead it only further fueled my lust. Every time I had seen this man, he gave me such tonal whiplash it was beginning to drive me insane. First it was this innocent little angel facade that quickly became sarcastic and witty when he decided he could play around without me getting angry. Then it was the whole sad puppy thing he had going on for the last week. Now here he was, practically naked and getting riled up over me telling him what to do, and puffing his chest with confidence I never thought he was capable of. It would have pissed me off if I did not find him ridiculously attractive.

“Go get dressed, Park,” My voice was clipped and too harsh. I winced and quickly worked to soften the blow. Getting defensive only made me look worse. “We can get breakfast if you’re not busy. My treat.”

“Sure, coach.”

When I heard the locker room close, I let out a deep sigh. My sexual frustration was getting in the way of my work, and I hated it. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I sent Hoseok a text.

Me: I think I’m crushing on Park

Me: Help me get rid of it

The reply did not come until I was done packing up my things. The workout stuff I had brought with me had been useless today, but I was afraid of forgetting where they were the next time I might need them, so they never left the bag. My phone vibrated just as I was done zipping up my bag. I could hear the shower in the locker room and clenched my thighs together. I was still thinking of how pretty his belly was, the tattoo on his ribs pitch-black against his pale skin, and how solid his calves looked. I unlocked my phone and nearly cried laughing when I saw the response.

Hobi: HAHAHAHA

Hobi: Sex is always the answer

Hobi: Never thought I’d see the day you became a cougar

I have no idea why I thought he would be any help. So, I licked my wounds and messaged Andy (like I should have done in the first place) and knew whatever she had to say would be far more helpful than my stupid best friend’s word of “advice.” I just had to hope it would be enough to make all of these feelings stop.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[stormhearty]

Pairings: Former Rhysand x Reader, Feysand, Tarquin x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Triggers: mentions of depression, relapse, attempts at suicide

Summary: It has been two decades since you left Night Court, leaving the life you had always known. It had been five years since you were in Dawn Court, slowly healing with the help of its High Lord. Now, you had resided in Summer Court, Tarquin by your side through your healing process. But when a mating bond snaps between the two of you when your health turns for the worse, how would you process something that you never thought would happen in your immortal life? And when you decide to confront your former family, would you forgive them for their past discretions? The story of the aftermath of your broken heart of glass.

Note: From this request! Thank you so much for wanting a second part to “Breaking Like Glass”!! I love that everyone enjoyed that fic’s immense angst, so I will gladly give you guys the fluff, romance, and healing the reader needs. And I do hope this isn’t cheesy. I struggled a bit on writing this, whether to debate to make it angsty, but I feel like, it has enough of the balance. Please do enjoy!

Breaking Like Glass | Masterlist

“You know, my stardust, you don't have to do this… We can have our mating ceremony with our family. We don't have to invite Night Court…”

You let out a thoughtful hum as you lounged in one of the lounging chairs in Tarquin’s office, book in hand. You placed a finger on your page before looking over your shoulder at the High Lord of Summer, who looked at you with concern etched on his beautiful features.

After centuries of being with Rhysand, you had always thought that you would be content in not finding your mate. You had thought, and wished, that you would have eternity with the High Lord of Night Court. However, with the fiasco two decades ago, all you wanted to do was heal — fix your broken heart and mind from your torture from Under the Mountain, to fix your broken soul from being ripped apart by your family. You did not want to fall in love — you didn’t want to give your taped-up heart to someone and be worried about having it torn apart again.

You had safe-guarded your heart behind high, metal walls with a fog of darkness to protect it — to protect you from breaking all over again, and losing yourself once more.

But what you had never dreamed of was a mating bond to snap.

And you never thought it would be with another High Lord.

The very moment you had stepped into Summer soil, Tarquin had been nothing but kind and gentle, helping you through your decade of healing. He allowed you to take your time — he allowed you to wallow, he allowed you to be silent, he allowed you to grieve, something that you never were able to do while you were in Valeris. He allowed you to cry in anguish, he allowed you to cry in pain — he allowed the forty-nine years of suffering to seep out of your aching body. And he was silently there, beside you, watching over you… to ensure you were safe and well cared for while you did.

And that was all you could have wished for while you were healing. You didn’t need words, you didn’t need condolences… Tarquin allowed you to heal in the way that your heart and mind needed.

All the while Tarquin healed your broken soul that came upon the betrayal from Night Court, you would be sent back to Dawn Court to mend your mind and body from the tortures of the Attor. The two High Lords worked in tandem with one another… all for you. Both Tarquin and Thesan realized your worth, both realized your importance and believed it was worth their power and time to heal you.

It had been five years since you came from Dawn Court when the mating bond snapped between you and Tarquin.

It was when your nightmares had resurrected themselves from the grave, haunting you thoroughly to the point you had relapsed back from your progress.

You had screamed and clawed against everything that had neared you, your eyes frantic at the absolute fear and dread of returning to that moment in your life — the pain of the Attor and betrayal of your husband, that still lurked in the darkness of your fear. You had hurt yourself, multiple times during that relapse — skin broken with knives, daggers, broken glass — anything that your hands got to… hoping for the pain to seep out of your skin.

But Tarquin was there through all of that — grabbing and hiding everything that you could try to hurt yourself with. He fought tooth and nail to get to you, whispering sweet nothings — that you were worth it, you were worth the pain and anguish, that you were worth everything. And that you would get through the pain — and that he’d be right beside you through it.

You couldn’t feel it, the glow of the mating bond between the two of you — for you were too shrouded in your fear to notice.

All the while, Tarquin felt every emotion you had felt — the despair, the anguish, the pain that wracked your body. He fought back all the tears as he held you against him, pouring as much care and love through the newly found bond.

The relapse had taken an immense hit on your health — you were sick for weeks on end, going in and out of consciousness barely able to make out who had been taking care of you.

When you had been well enough, you had learned that Tarquin, himself, had been the one to care for you during your illness. And you, though you shouldn’t have been, was surprised at that fact. The High Lord of Summer Court took time away from his busy schedule to tend to you. He had owed you nothing… and yet he had taken time to care for you.

“Why did you do that…?” you had asked, storming into his office, pausing mid-step when you had seen Thesan and the Captain in the room. It seemed that you had interrupted an important meeting between the two High Lords — possibly about your condition.

Tarquin looked at you for a moment, a gentle sigh escaping his lips as he looked at Thesan and gave him an apologetic nod of his head. Thesan glanced between the two of you before standing up from his seat on the plush couch and heading your way. The High Lord of Dawn smiled at you, leaning down to press a kiss onto the crown of your head, “Hello, my child… be nice to him…”

The request was confusing to you as you allowed the High Lord and Captain to step out of the room, the click of the door resonating behind you — leaving you and Tarquin alone in that grand room. The atmosphere grew awkward and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip, you glanced everywhere besides the High Lord, and you heard him let out a chuckle.

You frowned, glaring at him slightly before watching him stand up and walk towards you, reaching out a hand for you to hold, “We have much to talk about, (Y/N)…” he murmured.

You stared at his hand, sighing softly before reaching over to place you had on top of his. His had always radiated warmth that you seemed to want to grasp onto often — it was warm and inviting, much like the summer sun he had ruled over. You followed him further into his office, walking past his desk and onto the large balcony overviewing his Court. There was a large settee that Tarquin led you to, sitting you down before he sat next to you, leaving a gap between both of you.

“Now… What was it you were saying, (Y/N)? About why I did that?” he questioned, turquoise hues staring at the massive land of his Court, allowing the summer breeze to greet the two of you.

Relaxing against the settee, you remained quiet for a few moments, eyes fluttering close at the breeze that tickled your skin. When you opened your eyes once more and turned your attention to the High Lord, you were slightly startled when you noticed he was staring at you — something in his eyes sparkling that you were unsure of… or slightly denied.

“…Why did you take care of me when I was ill?” you asked him, not bothering to beat around the bush, “You didn’t owe me anything, this… arrangement between us is only until I get better and can move on from my nightmares—”

“When did I say that this… arrangement is only until you get better?” he interrupted you with a raised brow, “I did not say anything like that. I am allowing you to stay until you want to leave… I’m giving you the choice to stay and to heal the way you need, unlike your time in Night Court. And, I took care of you because I wanted to, (Y/N). I couldn’t let you hurt yourself like you did, to be so haunted by your nightmares every waking second… I couldn’t let you suffer the way Rhysand let you for all those months…”

You flinched at the name of your former husband. It still ached — no matter how long it had been, it still ached hearing his name. Usually, Tarquin and Thesan avoided saying his name around you, both afraid of a possible relapse. You let out a shaky breath, as your eyes stared at something beyond him, a distant stare — feeling yourself move out of your body, a sensation that had started to become normal for you ever since you were in Dawn Court.

Feeling Tarquin’s warmth again, you blinked twice before focusing on him again a small smile tugged on your lips, and shook your head, “…I’m fine…” you whispered, head tilting down to look at your intertwined hands. You took deep breaths, something that Thesan had taught you after your moments of distance.

Tug, tug… you felt something in your chest. Your head tilted in confusion until you felt it again — tug, tug… You lifted your head and looked at the High Lord once more. You saw a twinkle in those turquoise hues, a hopeful look hidden within those depths.

“…What…” you muttered in disbelief, and you felt another tug in your chest.

“You felt it, did you not, (Y/N)?” Tarquin questioned, leaning forward slightly, warm hands gently gripping yours — as if preventing you from running away.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head, too scared for any words to escape you.

How could a mating bond happen? After everything that happened to you, your mind and body were broken, being held together by pieces of tape held together by Tarquin and Thesan — you could barely hold yourself together. Your healing process for the past fifteen years was slow, and there were many times when you believed you would never be okay again. How can someone like you be mated to another High Lord? How can someone as broken as you be another leader of a Court?

Thoughts of insecurities passed through your mind, unknowingly sending them down the newly formed bond. You were startled out of your thought by Tarquin’s hand gently caressing your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“You do not have to accept the mating bond, as of yet, (Y/N)… I will wait, you can heal. Just know that I accept you, even if you are broken and torn. You still have years of healing to do, but I will be by your side — always.”

Tears ran down your cheeks as he shifted closer, pressing his hands on your cheeks to wipe them away. All you can do is nod. Allowing the love and warmth of the bond to slowly heal you.

It had been another five years since then. A little over two decades after you left Night Court to accept the bond. For five years, Tarquin had courted you, cared for you… loved you the way you needed. He did not force anything onto you and allowed you to fall in love with him in such a natural way that it felt second nature to you.

“…(Y/N)…” your mate called out to you, snapping out of your trance.

You blinked and refocused on the present, eyes focusing on Tarquin who had moved from his spot at his desk to you, hands rubbing your shoulders. Tilting your head back, you gave him a smile, reaching up with your free hand to reach up to run your fingers against his cheek as he looked down at you.

“No… I would like to invite them. I think… I need closure from my time there. And…” there was hesitance in your voice at the next words, “I do miss them. I lived with them for centuries, and all of a sudden I cut them off my life for a good reason… there are times when I missed them.”

Tarquin hummed understandingly as he squeezed your shoulders, “Understandable. We will invite them… But I worry—-”

“—- I won’t relapse. I promise…” you moved from your lounging position to sitting up, shifting so you were on your knees, at eye level with him. You felt him wrap his arm around your waist so you were steady as your hands placed themselves on his biceps, playing around with the fabric of his outfit, “I’m better — well, as best I can be — but I know you’ll be there… I will be fine.”

There was reluctance in his features, those turquoise hues trying to find any lie in your words before he gave you a nod.

“I concede…” he murmured and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the hesitancy in his words. Pressing a gentle kiss on the High Lord’s cheek, murmuring a thank you before moving back to your position on the lounge chair, picking up your book once more.

You looked back up to just miss the shake of his head, before he wrapped a hand around your neck, tilting your head up so he could lean down to press a kiss on your lips, “After our mating ceremony, I wish for you to initiate our kisses, my stardust…”

Feeling the warmth of your cheeks you stared up at him, “If that is the wish of my High Lord, then it shall happen…”

He let out a low chuckle before pressing another kiss on your lips, your book forgotten on your lap.

The ceremony venue was extravagant, to say the least — Tarquin, as well as Thesan from what you had gathered, pulled all the stops. The throne room of Summer Court was flourishing with flowers and the summer sun radiating down through all the large windows.

You were a nervous mess sitting in your room. It was still several hours before the ceremony, that you weren’t too nervous for; it was the fact that you were going to meet your old family once more.

The Captain of Dawn, your dear friend, had informed you that the Inner Circle just arrived at the outskirts of Summer Court. And that set off your nerves completely.

You had requested, when you had sent the letter to Night Court, to meet with them before your ceremony — to officially close the wounds between all of you.

And so when a knock startled you out of your worries, you turned around in your chair from your vanity where you were getting ready. Watching those doors open to reveal your old family.

There stood Rhysand, in his Night Court attire along with Feyre, who was at his side. There was a pang in your chest, the pain of their betrayal somehow festering its way back into your heart. But it was slowly soothed out by the warmth of the mating bond that Tarquin seemed to have sent your way. The doors closed behind the Inner Circle, and you noticed the Captain of Dawn stationed at the door.

Thesan’s lover is quite a busybody isn’t he…? You had sent down the bond to your mate. And all you felt was Tarquin’s chuckle as you focused back on the now.

You slowly stood up, a small smile on your features before you watched from the corner of your eye Mor heading to a sprint and giving you the biggest hug.

“… I’m so sorry, (Y/N)…” she apologized, the words repeating on her lips as she squeezed you, burying her head into your neck.

Tears pricked the edge of your eyes as your arms wrapped around her and you buried your head to the crook of her neck, letting the blond curls tickle your face.

“… Mor…” you whined her name.

A sob wracked through the blonde’s body, “I’m just glad you’re okay. That you’re better…” she whispered before pulling back and staring at you, “I’m glad you found your mate. I’m glad that he’s making you happy — that you deserve happiness — after all the shit you went through and everything we had put you under…”

You smiled at her as you felt her cup your cheeks, nodding your head, “… — Thank you, Mor. I’m glad to see you again, truly. I missed you so much…”

A smile tugged on Mor’s features, “We will see each other more… if you let us.”

You nodded your head as she stepped away, allowing the rest of the Inner Court to greet you — hugging you and whispering their utmost apologies and congratulations.

Cassian had lifted you into his arms, something he used to do often when you were his Lady still, giving you a spin, “You will always be my Lady, (Y/N)…” he whispered into your ears, pressing a kiss against your cheek before literally handing you off to Azriel.

A giggle escaped your lips as you hugged the Spymaster as he pressed a kiss on your opposite cheek, “We will forever live with the regret of losing you…” Azriel hummed out, “We had and always will love you… But I wish for nothing but happiness for you…”

Your heart flourished at the words of your former family — the words that you had wished to hear two decades ago — slowly piecing your heart and soul back together. You had known, while you were healing, that they had always cared for you and that never meant to put so much pressure on you, unknowing of your nightmares and struggles after being Under the Mountain.

When you were settled back onto your feet, you turned to face Rhysand. The tension between the two of you was still high and you fought back all the urge to just run away from this confrontation between the two of you. You gave him a small smile before focusing your attention on Feyre who stepped up, reaching out to hold your hands.

“I am truly sorry…” she whispered, leaning forward to press her forehead against yours.

You understood why Rhysand fell in love with Feyre. You had heard of the great deeds she had done for Night Court, for Prythian… she was something you could never have been next to Rhysand. The true High Lady of Night Court.

And somehow, you were okay with it.

Shaking your head, you looked at the High Lady, “…You were just following the feeling of the mating bond. Like I said that night, I cannot fault you for choosing your mate. I cannot fault you for following the tug… I — I would like to extend my congratulations —-”

Feyre shook her head, brows knitting at your words, “Do not, please. I will not accept that not when I have unknowingly broken you along with the rest of your family. ”

You looked at her, nodding your head as you felt her step back and the familiar scent and presence of your former husband taking her place. You lifted your eyes to look into violet ones — ones that sparkled with regret, ones that you were in love with for so long.

Even if it was two decades that passed, you felt like you were still in sync with him, knowing what he wanted. Turning onto your heels, you made your way to one of the furthest balconies, Rhysand following your steps. The large window doors closed behind you, leaving both of you in a pocket of privacy away from prying ears. You could see, from the corner of your eye, the Captain making his way closer to the doors and all you could do was hold a hand up — signaling that you were fine and safe.

Turning back around, you focused on Rhysand who’s eyes were solely on you. Stepping past him, you made your way to the railing, pressing your hands on the warm marble, as you basked in the summer sun.

“(Y/N)…” Rhysand whispered one that was so quiet that the wind barely was able to carry it to your sensitive ears.

“I… I cannot forgive you, Rhysand…” you declared, eyes still closed as you let the warmth of your new home wash over you, to comfort you as you confront your past, “I cannot and do not fault you for choosing her. I can see why you had fallen for her — she’s beautiful, both inside and out. But I cannot forgive you for it. You had broken me so much, that there were many times during my healing that I wondered why I wasn’t enough for you to choose me. Wondering what I have done to make you choose someone else other than your wife who stood next to you for centuries.”

You could hear the shaky breath that Rhysand exhaled as you felt him stand next to you on the balcony.

You couldn’t look at him, every fiber in your body shaking to break again if you looked at him. You needed to be strong — for yourself and for the people around you who worried immensely for your health.

“I know… I know you would never forgive me, (Y/N). I have accepted that truth… I just wish things ended differently, you know? I wanted to let you know, that there was not a moment in our centuries together as husband and wife that I wished you were my mate… that there was not a moment that I did not love you…”

A broken laugh escaped your lips as you opened your eyes and looked up at him once more, seeing those unshed tears in violet hues.

“… And there was not a time where I wished you were my mate… But it seems that Mother had a different path for both of us. One that led us away from each other.”

You reached up, with shaky hands, and attempted to touch him; however, your body paused, and with furrowed brows, you dropped your hand back onto your side. You could see Rhysand’s body slouched slightly as if missing your touch. A forced smile tugged onto your lips as you stepped back, creating a significant distance between the two of you, “… I hope you enjoy the ceremony, Rhysand…”

He knew when he was dismissed and he smiled at you before stepping out of the balcony. You watched with longing and pain as he and the Inner Court stepped out of your room.

“… Probably it wasn’t such a good idea to have the two of you alone together…” The Captain commented, stepping onto the balcony, worry in his tone.

“I’m fine… just give me a moment…” you whispered, pressing a hand against your chest, to calm down your heart. You slouched against the railing for a few minutes, feeling the bond in your chest to help your racing heart.

“…Do you need me—-”

“No… I don’t need Tarquin or Thesan right now. They’re in their own state of panic already…”

The Captain let out a chuckle, “That is true… They have set their mind to ensure that this ceremony would be perfect…”

After calming your heart, you straightened up and gave the Captain a light smirk, “…Busybodies the lot of them…” You stepped back into your room, allowing yourself to fix yourself up before the ceremony, the Captain following your trail.

You stood on the dias of the throne room, Tarquin by your side as the priestess started the ceremony. Your gown was a lovely mixture of blue, much like the oceans that crashed below the castle. The priestess’ words had gone deaf in your ears as all you could do was stare up at the High Lord of Summer, love and affection in your features as well as through the bond.

When the priestess had asked for the two of you to exchange vows, Tarquin looked at you with the same look as you did to him, a soft smile on his features.

“Never in my life, I would have thought to find my mate. I had thought that I would rule my Court without a High Lady by my side. But that fateful day I had whisked you away from Thesan and Dawn Court, all I had wished was for you to be mine.

“My stardust…” the nickname always made your heart skip in your chest, “I had fallen in love with you… despite your broken soul and heart. I was honored that you had trusted me enough to help mend your soul from the nightmares that haunted you, and that still haunt you till this day. But I couldn’t let you know of my affections, not when you had set yourself into healing. So I waited, waited for years and when that mating bond snapped, I knew I couldn’t hold out for much longer. I needed you in my arms, I needed to have your eyes set on me — rather than looking into your past. And when you had your relapse… I had to let you know. I had to let you know that you have someone, your mate, to be with you every step of your healing process.”

You felt tears trickle down your cheeks as Tarquin wiped them away, “You deserve this bond after everything that you have been through… the Mother has gifted you this bond. And I am honored to be at the end of that string.”

A sob escaped your lips and you couldn’t even find the words for your own vows. All you could mutter to him as he pressed his forehead against yours, “Thank you… I love you, I thank you, and I am also honored and blessed by the Cauldron to have you as my mate. Thank you for mending my heart. I am glad to give it to you, and not worry about it breaking…”

You watched through a tearful gaze, Tarquin giving you a radiant smile before leaning down to press a kiss on your lips, “And I would never break it… not your heart that is precious like gemstones…”

You laughed as applause reached your ears, leaning up once more to kiss your mate.

Your heart was safe — mended together once more — and you knew it would never break again.

Tagging list: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @abysshaven @prythianpages @leahoneil @rachelnicolee

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for planning to go to a convention without my partner even though we usually go together?

My partner (21 NB) and I usually always attend different conventions around our area together. We like to dress up in costumes, get pics with celebrity guests, and go to panels and meet-ups and all the fun convention activities together. The problem is.... this past year has been really hard for them mental health wise, and it has kind of sucked the fun out of going to conventions for both of us.

They have diagnosed ADHD and anxiety/depression, as well as what we think is autism, but they are undiagnosed. If I thought they were having a good time attending conventions, I would worry less, but the crowds of people and the noise overstimulates them and they've told me that they feel unsettled with that that many strangers around. They've had a range of minor to major panic attacks at each of the conventions that we've attended for the past year or so.

I usually try to be really supportive of their mental health. They have come a long, long way from the deep depression they were in back in high school, and they have worked hard to get their ADHD recognized and properly medicated, and I'm really proud of them. I have anxiety myself, so I feel like I understand at least a little bit of what they are typically dealing with, in a small way.

However, I also absolutely adore going to conventions. I convince myself every morning to get up and go to work by telling myself that "I'm working to fund my next cosplay," or whatever. A little self-motivation, you know. Costumes and conventions are my biggest hobby. Though I attend multiple conventions, every one is different in its own way, so it feels like it only comes once a year.

And this is where I might be a bit of an AH. I know my partner can't control their mental health, but I feel like I miss out on a lot of the convention whenever they have a panic attack or get overstimulated and I have to sit with them until they feel better. And yes, I know that sounds really bad, and I should care about my partner's well-being more than seeing a panel or a celebrity guest, but conventions are my "once a year getaway" from reality and typical life and all that. I don't really take any other vacations, and I don't really get to interact with any other nerds/geeks/weebs/lovely fandom people except at conventions because my anxiety is mostly social anxiety, and talking to people is hard and social media is intimidating.

So.... I did some thinking, and there are two, maybe three conventions that I'm planning to attend this next year without my partner. I'm not planning on telling them that I'm going without them, I was just planning on not mentioning it at all. I think if I tell them outright that I'm going without them, they'll take it personally and I don't want to upset them. If they ask for a reason that we're not going, I can just say it's financial, which isn't exactly a lie, because I did take a pay cut at work not too long ago. And my partner doesn't work due to their mental health, so I always fund or costumes and tickets and hotels. But I don't want to give that reason outright either, because I don't want to lie unless I have to.

There are two or three other conventions that we go to yearly that we'll still go to together, so I feel like they'll still get to attend and we'll get to go together, but I'll also have my "alone time" at the other conventions and get to do things I don't usually get to do, like late-night events.

If it's worth anything, my therapist supports my idea, because she thinks it'll force me out of my shell a little bit, and force me to stop using my partner as a "social crutch" if I go alone, making it like exposure therapy for my social anxiety.

So tumblr... AITA for wanting to go to a couple of conventions without my partner due to their mental health and my fear of missing out?

What are these acronyms?

[ladylooch]

Listen I know it’s not November but could you write something about reader trying to get Nico to fail No Nut November?

A/N: Challenge accepted, Nico. 😈 This may be my favorite smut I have ever written.

Word Count: 1.0k

Hand on the Bible, you promise the day wasn’t meant to start out this way.

Nico is behind you, fucking you hard as the headboard slams against the wall. You push back against the covered wood, moaning loudly to the ceiling.

“Right there.” You beg him, choking on your moans as he grips your hair, keeping your head tilted back. He loves the way he can see the outline of your features. Your forehead quivers, eyebrows furrowed, nostrils flaring. Your teeth stab at your bottom lip, trying to hold back. “Uhhh.” You finally let lose. Nico pounds harder, thighs clapping against your ass.

“Fuck, you’re going to be so worth it.” He groans. 

But that’s now. Not how this all started.

You were in the kitchen, making yourself a cup of coffee in one of Nico’s t-shirts. The shirt completely covered you just to the edges of your butt cheeks. You walked around like this all the time. You didn’t think anything of it.

Nico came out of the bedroom at the smell of waffles. He shoves his wild hair back from his face, coming to the island where you are pouring more batter into the waffle maker.

“Hi Disney Princess.” You smile up at him, tilting your face for a kiss.

“Good morning.” He croaks, voice coated in sleep. His hand finds your opposite hip with your other side pressing into him. His fingers splay out under his shirt, holding your thigh and fiddling with the waistband of your panties. “Why aren’t you wearing pants?”

“I never do in the morning, unless it’s snowing.” 

“Yeah, but you know what month it is.” You glance at the calendar, seeing today’s date as November 6th. No Nut November can kick rocks in your book.

“Why are you participating in this?”

“Dougie brought it up as a team thing.”

“Easy for him to say, he doesn’t have a girlfriend.” 

“I think his justification is that makes it harder… no pun intended.” He chuckles. 

“You have waiting puss in your bed every night and his bed is empty… and he thinks that is harder for him?” Nico snorts at the word puss. 

“Babe.” He taps your ass at the filth. “Make it easier on me.”

“No. I don’t want you to participate in this!” You laugh, checking the waffle. It needs another minute. “This is a sad month for me. I may slip into a dickless depression.”

“It’s for a good cause.”

“You say that, but are you actually putting money to it?”

“Yeah, the whole team is. Losers have to pay more.” 

“So, if we have sex you’re going to admit that to the team by contributing more to the pot.”

“I am a man of honor, baby.” He nods, picking up your cup of coffee and taking a sip. “And I wanna brag about you too.” He hides his snicker in the cup. You narrow your gaze at him. 

“You better not be talking about that.” You insist, opening the waffle maker again. “That’s between me and you.”

“I did tell Woody your mouth is like a vacuum cause it sucks my soul out.” He covers his face with his hand. “I was so drunk in Vegas last month.” 

“You shit!” You laugh hard, using a fork to take out the waffle. Honestly tho, you’re proud of that. “What did he say?”

“Marry her.” You toss your head back and laugh harder.

“See I knew I liked him. Confirmed favorite.”

You walk across the kitchen to grab plates for both of you. They are a bit high for you so you have to get on your tip toes.

“Oh my god.” Nico moans behind you. His shirt has pulled up on you, exposing the see through backs of your panties. He admires the perfect curve of your ass before squeezing his eyes shut. 

“What do you think about No Nut November now?”

“What if I don’t… nut?” He questions. 

“You can’t.” You know immediately if he slips into you, he’s not going to be done until he leaves a puddle inside of you. 

“I think I can.” 

“Okay. Let’s go.” You take his shirt off, leaving it on the kitchen floor. Nico follows you fast.

And that is how you got here. 

With his cock buried to the hilt as he fucks you, telling you how worth it this is going to be.

You lay down on your stomach, then wrap your calves around his thick thighs, bucking back into him. Nico’s hand wraps around your stomach as he goes aggressively silent. The sound of your skin clapping together fills the room as you work him over. His hand slides down from your stomach, fingertips rubbing your clit to get you clenching him tighter. Your body curls inwards as he starts to thrust deep into you again, awkward, jerky movements that hint at what he is about to do. 

“Come on, Neeks. Fill me.” You beg him as he leans forward to connect your back with his front.

“You.. fuck. Babe!” He groans as he comes inside of you. You follow him, pushed over the edge by his uninhibited moans as he coats your walls. You clench him deeper with each pulse of your orgasm, milking him for all he is worth. Nico collapses onto your back, staying buried inside of you, balls resting on the back of your thighs. You reach around, running your fingers along his spine in encouragement. 

“Happens to the best men, baby.”

“You said that on purpose.”

“Yeah, I wanted you to fail.”

“You pay my fine then.” 

“No, it’s probably 20 grand or something outrageous you rich people decided.”

“It’s like 5.” Nico kisses along your shoulder. 

“I’ll pay you back in blowies.” 

“Sold!” Nico chuckles, rolling out of and off you to settle on his back on the bed. His hand comes to your ass, giving it a gentle pat, then resting there calmly.

“Let it be know, on the record with the New Jersey Devils locker room, that Nico Hischier made it 6 days into No Nut November.” You high five yourself with a snicker. Nico sighs, eyes closed with a blissed out smile on his face. 

“Worth every fucking penny.” His hand slaps your ass hard, filling the room with the distinct sound of a job well done. 

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter 18

Good Luck Charm

Series Masterlist

Previous part: Endgame

Word Count: 9,856

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions of medical equipment, loss, abuse, PTSD, anxiety and depression.

Your slippers shuffled against the ground as you stepped outside onto the porch. With a big blanket around your shoulders and a warm mug in each hand, you walked up to Steve who had been sitting on the love seat all by himself for about half an hour now.

His eyes were fixed on the wooden deck railing, but fondly found your face as you approached in all your comfortable glory.

"A hot latte for the hottie?" You said, handing him a mug of foamy, vanilla goodness.

His smile spread as fast as his cheeks blushed. "Thank you, baby doll."

"Anything for you."

After his gentle hands grabbed the mug from yours, you set your own coffee down for a moment sit next to him and wrap the blanket around both of your shoulders. He was quick to eat up your company, and shuffle closer to you for warmth.

It was that weird time of year where mornings and nights were cold, but midday was blazing. You were well equipped with leggings and a hoodie with thick warm socks that Steve was quite jealous of, while he was in a T-shirt and joggers. But your blanket, body heat, and the hot coffee warmed his body and his heart.

It had been a few days since half of humanity returned, and you were trying to find a good balance of giving him the space he needed to process the events and grieve his friends, time to reconnect with Bucky, all while trying to make sure you were there for him.

As of now it looked like cuddles and long conversations before bed, you sneaking off and working from 4 in the morning to around 2 in the afternoon, then coming home usually to an empty house since the two boys were out doing whatever Steve's and Bucky's do, then the three of you would have dinner together and you'd be back off to bed.

But today was different. You decided not to work at the bakery today because you knew Bucky was going to go tour apartments near by to see if maybe there was a place worth staying near his best friend for, and Steve would be on his own otherwise. Though he was perfectly capable of getting through a hard time on his own, it was always easier when the two of you were together.

With you settled next to him, his eyes fixed right back to where they were before. You thought he was looking out into the neighborhood, until your eyes caught glimpse of a tiny little creature. A spider spinning a web. Not just any spider, but an all black spider with a small red shape on its back.

A black widow.

You immediately understood where his brain was and what it was thinking about, you didn't even have to exchange words when he knew you saw it too. Together you just sat, sipped, and thought about your dear friend. But the more you thought, the more your heart hurt for Steve, so your mug was sat on the floor once again so you could wrap an arm around his shoulders and hold him closer.

Your actions made him grin, and his hand found your thigh. It squeezed in appreciation.

"Way back when we fought Ultron, we all thought for a brief moment that all of us would die in Sokovia. When I brought up that possibility, all she said was that she would never find a prettier view anywhere else than being that high up in the sky." He finally broke the silence. "I was admittedly a little scared, and she was calm as could be. Using her skills to make a positive difference in the world was all she thought she had. She was okay with dying as long as it was at the hands of the greater good."

You nodded, acknowledging that you were listening but understanding he probably wasn't looking for a response yet.

"Clint told us she seemed completely at peace with her decision, like there was no second question. She knew that's what she wanted. She died for the greater good. I've always been scared of dying in battle for any reason. I made peace with it, I accepted that it could happen, but I was always scared that it would. I know that's not what I want."

Now, you knew what this conversation was about. This is what's been looming over his head for months, the moment you knew was coming.

He finally said it.

"That's how I know I can't do this anymore." His voice dropped to almost a whisper.

Usually, those words coming from a lovers mouth were the worst words anyone could hear. But in this context, you were happy for him.

"I know you can't." You nodded with a sympathetic tone.

"You're not even going to ask me to clarify?" Steve questioned.

"I already know. I've always known." Your small, delicate smile brought him comfort. "Since the moment I found out that you were Captain America I've known two things to be true. The first one being that there was nothing you could do to scare me away, and the second being that your time in the suit was coming to an end."

"Seems like that came easier to you than it did to me." Steve noted, feeling lighter now that he's told you. "It's been looming over me for years, and it wasn't a choice I made lightly."

"Of course it wasn't." You agreed. "I've watched you quietly struggle with this since the day we met. All I've ever wanted for you was to find happiness."

"I had a sense of guilt giving it up, like people would die if I didn't keep doing this, but I know now that the truth is there was a time before me and there will be a time after me in which everyone manages just fine." He continued. "I've been at this for far longer than I think anyone expected, and I know it's time to pass the shield."

"I'm happy for you." You stated, your hand now playing with the hair on the back of his head. "I genuinely am. And I'm proud of you. I can't imagine any of your life has been easy, and choosing to try a new path that leads to an easier, more peaceful life is exactly what you've always deserved."

"I just want you to know I wouldn't have made this choice of it stopped me from taking care of us at any point." Steve stressed. "Our life together is now number one with no set backs. Please take this in the most humble and sincere way I could possibly say this, but a lack of income going forward is not anything we need to be concerned about. We're set, and any future kids we could possibly want are set."

You smiled at his words. "Honey, even if you had less than a dollar to your name, I'd still want you to make this choice. I also mean this very sincerely and humbly, but the bakery is doing really well. I would've been happy to make you a stay at home Dad."

"So this is it." Steve shrugged. "I'll go on one more mission to put the stones back exactly where they need to be, pass the shield over to Sam and be done. The last few days of being Captain America, then it'll be the first days of the rest of our lives."

"I've always thought Steve was cooler than Cap, by the way." You grinned, head landing on his shoulder.

"You're just saying that to make me feel better." Steve giggled, snuggling further next to you. "Thank you for all of your support. It means a lot to me. You've put up with a lot to accommodate what I do. None of it when by without appreciation."

"You do a lot to support me too, at this point, I think the bakery would fall apart without you and all the little things you do for us. They add up, and it makes a massive impact on the way everyone functions and business flows." You reminded him. "We're a team, Love. I'll always have your back and I know you always have mine. I can't wait to see what this next chapter looks like for us."

"I don't think I could properly express how excited I am about it right now amidst all of this chaos, but if I think about it for too long I'll cry." Steve giggled.

"It's okay, I believe you." You smiled.

"And now that the ball is rolling on the bakery in New York, I just feel really hopeful that I'll be busy regardless of the fact that I'm unemployed now."

You laughed as you moved your arm down to hold his hand instead. "I think a life with me is a life with the bakeries. I don't think that's considered unemployment."

"Can I apply for a job at Nice to be Kneaded?" Steve joked. "It'll keep me busy."

"Sure thing, I'll forward you the email you can send in your resume and fill out an application."

"Ugh I'm never gonna get the job." Steve pouted.

"Why not?"

"I haven't updated my resume since 1942, and there's a 66 year gap." He explained. "And the owner of the bakery is so beautiful, I'm going to be fumbling over my words the entire interview!"

Your smile widened, as did the swell of your heart. "I actually know her, I'll put in a good word for you."

"Thank you, Sunflower, that would be great." He smiled and squeezed your hand.

"...Stevie?" You questioned softly.

"Hmm?"

"We don't have to kill it, but that spider can't stay there."

Steve chuckled at your words. "It is pretty terrifying, isn't it?"

"Does Captain America protect people against scary venomous spiders?"

"Oh... did you not just hear the whole 'I'm retiring' part of the conversation?" Steve joked.

"Okay... will my big, strong boyfriend protect me against the scary venomous spider?"

"...but.... I'm scared of spiders" his voice jumped up an octave or two, and lowered in volume earning your giggles.

"Maybe we can just burn the house down?" You suggested.

"Yeah, let's do that." Steve agreed with a big smile. "Or we can relocate it together"

"Awwww!" You cooed unenthusiastically. "How about we wait for Bucky to get back and he can help us?"

"That's the best idea yet"

"At least you have a big, strong boyfriend that'll relocate scary spiders for you!" You jokingly enthused.

Steve's jaw dropped, but his smile and giggles prevailed through his feigned display of betrayal. "You know what?! That spider is gonna come bite you!"

"Not under Bucky's watch, it won't" You laughed.

"It's gonna come all the way over here and crawl aaaalllllllllll the way up your arm" With his middle and index fingers, they climbed up your arm with a feathery light touch as to tickle you on purpose. Your laugh was music to his ears as his hand made it to your neck, then he started tickling right at the base of your shoulder on purpose. "And it's gonna bite you right here for being so mean to me!"

As if it was the most contagious disease known to man, your happiness and laughter seeped into his heart and soul, and just being near you had him feeling the same way. Faster than he could process, you were both laughing as he one-handedly tried to fight off your attempts at giving him spider bites through the tiniest, gentlest pinches he's ever felt in his life.

The two of you were too occupied in each others chaos to notice Georgia walking across the street for a chat. Admittedly, she also got lost in the scene happening in front of her.

Your arms flying at Steve as uncontrollable laughter and smiles flew past each other, Steve trying to block your swift hands with only one of his arms. Then, his mug slipped out of his other hand and splashed coffee all over his lap, onto the blanket, and the mug shattered onto the deck.

For a moment, Georgia recoiled, fully prepared to walk away when Steve inevitably got angry at you for the the loss of a mug and a perfectly good cup of coffee.

But instead, she was pleasantly surprised when there was a pause in all movement and laughter, both of you looked down at the mess all over Steve and the porch, then your eyes met each others again, and the two of you bursted out in even more laughter.

"Oh no! Was that hot? Are you okay?" Your hand grabbed into his upper arm, questioning between laughter. "I'm sorry!"

"Not hot, I'm fine." He chuckled, patting the top of your thigh twice. "Don't be sorry! Let me get rid of this broken glass real quick so you don't cut yoursel- oh. Hi, Georgia."

"Hi, sorry to interrupt." She slowly walked up the steps.

"Oh my goodness, how are you feeling?!" You questioned, feeling indifferent about her approaching you and Steve.

"A lot better. I just uh, I just wanted to come over and thank you guys for your help. I don't remember much of what happened but Adeline from two doors down told me about it. You had no reason to help, let alone bring flowers and check on on me multiple times. So, again, thank you."

"We had reason to help," Steve cut in, remembering your sad years over your strained relationship with your once dear friend. He was committed to making this work for you. "whether you believe it or not, we care about you."

"I certainly understand that now." Georgia nodded her head.

"How has Michael been since he's been back? Is he adjusting okay?" You asked, having felt worried about him since the snap.

"He's been alright, it's been a bit of a shock to him but that's to be expected. He was focused on taking care of me but now that I'm better I think he's really processing the events that took place." She explained. "Steve, I also heard you got injured pretty badly in battle. Are you alright?"

Her concern had over his well-being had him admittedly surprised. "I did get bit roughed up but I'm a lot better now, thank you."

"I owe you an overdue apology." Georgia sincerely stated. "All the years you've been here, I wildly misinterpreted your character. It's clear to me now that I let the media, and Michael's opinion of you get into my head at the time you found your way to Greenwood. You're a good man, and I can tell you're an even better guy for the sweetest little lady in the whole town. I can tell you two love each other very much, and I hope you understand I only ever wanted what was best for her."

"I appreciate your apology." Steve nodded. "I think we both agree and see eye to eye on a lot of things, especially only ever wanting what's best for this sweet girl. But I'm not the only one you owe an apology to."

"I agree." Georgia nodded. She approached you with small apprehensive steps, then squatted down in front of your seat and placed her hand over yours. "Baby girl, I'm sorry."

You nodded, and swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I am. Really, really sorry." She squeezed your hand. "You are and always have been one smart, tough cookie and I should've trusted you to make good choices for yourself. I was wrong. I'm happy you have him, and I'm proud of the life you've created for yourself. It makes me happy to see you doing well. It's obvious that you two love each other very much, and I'm sorry for not seeing that until now."

"Thank you" You accepted. Though you would love nothing more than to have things go back to the way it used to be, Steve has taught you a lot about only accepting what's of value to you. Though him, you learned that the bare minimum wasn't the only treatment you should accept in life. He picked your standards up off the floor and held them above the ground. If Georgia wanted a place back in your life, she would have to fight for it. "I love you, and care about you so much. I always have, and I always will. I think this is a good start to reestablishing our friendship, but you know it's gonna take some time?"

Though this challenge was one for her to face, Georgia was proud to see you finally setting healthy boundaries for yourself. The version of you that she was friends with many years ago was a chronic people pleaser who couldn't get any words to leave her mouth that could possibly be taken badly. This version of you was much different, and far more healed and healthy.

“Of course.” She nodded in understanding

Standing up and letting your hand go, she turned to Steve once more. "And Steve, thank you for your service. I really appreciate and respect what you put on the line to save everyone we lost."

"No problem." He nodded before Georgia walked off right back into her own house.

Silence fell between you two for a few moments after her front door closed, until you broke it. "I never thought that would happen."

“Neither did I.” Steve stared blankly across the street.

More silence.

"Do you think she still would've apologized if she knew we were housing Bucky for the time being?" You questioned.

"Some things are better left unsaid." Steve shrugged.

More silence.

"I've been sitting in a puddle of vanilla latte for 5 minutes." Steve stated.

Then your eyes met his, looked down at his lap that was drenched in coffee, then back up at his face.

Once again, you two bursted out into laughter.

After some scrubbing, googling how to get coffee stains out of clothes, a shower, and a load of laundry later, it was like the coffee incident never happened.

Before you knew it, you and Steve were back in New York for a handful of different reasons. The first being location scouting for the new bakery. You dragged Steve around the city for 3 full days with a contractor and a financial advisor, touring empty business slots. Steve kept joking that you were the Prince Charming of bakery owners, you had a theoretical glass slipper and if one of the buildings didn't perfectly fit, it was an automatic no.

But eventually you found the perfect new home for the bakery. And wildly enough, it was in Brooklyn. The entirety of your search, Steve would make a little half-joke half-serious remark that everything good in the city was in Brooklyn. Sure enough, the moment you stepped foot into building, it was an automatic yes. You signed the lease right then and there, and the contractor started taking measurements as you sat in a pretty office with floor to ceiling windows signing paper after paper.

The only person happier than you about this decision was Steve, who had pointed out that the apartment he used to live in with his mom was just down the block. He also told you about how in building the bakery would now be in, used to be a little bodega where him and his Mom would walk to just to buy marshmallow sandwich cookies.

It made you incredibly happy knowing that such a special place to Steve, where he already had fond memories of getting sweet treats would now turn into a whole new place full of even sweeter treats. You'd like to believe that somewhere out there, Sarah Rogers led you to this corner location just to make his boy happy.

That same day, after all the paperwork was done and your wrist hurt from signing the lease agreement, you and Steve walked hand and hand through the streets of Brooklyn. The two of you had done this together many times before, but each time unlocked a special memory for him, and it always made you happy to learn more about who he was before the war.

This time he walked you along the route he used to take on his bike when he worked as a paper boy to put himself through art school. You passed by the apartment he lived in immediately after his Mom died, and surprisingly enough, it looked exactly the same on the outside. Then, you did what had to be done.

Hand in hand, you walked into a bodega and found the marshmallow cookies. You'd never had them before, but apparently they were one of the most popular treats in the 30's and Sarah adored them. After buying a pack of them, ripping them open and doing a little cheers, you each took and bite of the two crunchy vanilla cookies with marshmallow fluff in the center.

You could see the nostalgia flooding his brain, and all you could do was smile. It was the sweetest celebration you could've ever wanted for such a momentous occasion.

Then, you two went upstate for Tony's funeral.

Steve told you over and over again that you didn't have to go. He knew it would be difficult for the Avengers, and even worse for Pepper and Morgan who you'd never met. You were here for work, and already taking time to support him on his last mission as Captain America, and he felt guilty taking even more of your time.

But as he zipped up the back of your black dress, and you straighten out his tie, you reassured him that you wouldn't miss it for the world. He needed you there even though he wouldn't admit it, and you wanted a chance to see the Avengers again, even under such a terrible circumstance.

The two of you stated the night near the cabin after the funeral. The lake was gorgeous, and the cabin you rented was beautiful. It was quiet, quaint, and Sam and Bucky stayed the night with you guys as well.

You could tell the day had taken an emotional toll on them, where the boys used to bounce off the walls when they were all together, they just sat and held conversation instead. One by one the boys knocked out. Steve was first, he fell asleep sitting next to you on the couch. His head fell lnto your shoulder and his face nuzzled into his neck. Then Bucky lost the battle on the arm chair, leaving just you and Sam chatting for hours.

Conversation came easy between you, and you really enjoyed talking to him. You even got a little sad knowing that it was getting late, and Steve had a big day in the morning so you had to cut the conversation off and get him to bed.

Then, the monumental day came.

Steve's last mission.

He expected to have a lot of sadness letting go of such a monumental part of his life, but as he suited up for the very last time he looked in the mirror and felt like he barely even recognized the reflection anymore.

Your arms snaked around his stomach from behind and you rocked forward onto your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek before looking at him through the mirror. Only then did he feel like himself again.

"Lookin' good, Baby." Your cheeky smile made an appearance. "Feelin' good?"

"Surprisingly, yes." He responded with a grin, his half gloved hands held onto your arms. "I'm excited to get it over with, so ready to turn a new page."

"I think Sam is going to be honored. You're making a really good choice passing him the mantle." You reassured.

"I think so too." He grinned.

"One last picture before you go?" You asked.

"Whatever you want." He agreed.

Like a proud Mom, you took a few pictures of the two of you through the mirror, and a few of just him. Then, you, Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Bruce all met up at the smaller time travel machine that Bruce put together and got ready for Steve's last run.

You waited patiently as they briefed, powered up the Time Machine, and got all of their odds and ends in place.

Once it was good to go, everyone got a hug just in case, except for you that got a hug and a kiss. What could he say? You were just special like that.

"Still got it?" You asked, as always before sending him off.

"Always!" Out of his pocket, he pulled the $20 between his fingers to show you before putting it back in. "Got a little something extra this time too"

Steve grinned as he picked up mjolnir, knowing it was the first time you ever saw him wield the hammer. Then, the cheeky little shit winked at you, earning a laugh and a shake of your head.

"Good luck, baby. It's only the weight entire timeline as we know it on your shoulders, so, no pressure." You smiled.

"No pressure at all, easy peasy." He agreed, stepping onto the platform.

"Go get 'em Cap. Love you!"

"Love you more."

Then you had the greatest privilege of all, saluting the captain for the very last time.

He smiled, nodded, Bruce counted down, then he was gone.

Of course time worked differently for the person time traveling, so even though he was only gone for about a minute or two for you, for him it was hours.

You and Bucky both knew what was about to happen, so the two of you took a physical and mental step back as you waited for his arrival home.

Bruce counted down once more before bringing him back, and you saw him immediately. He purposefully arrived away from the machine, wanting to have a special moment alone with Sam.

He sat alone on a bench looking out onto the lake, no longer in his suit, but in some of his old clothes he got from his place a few years ago. Shield in hand, but in a leather case.

"Where is he? I don't see him?" Bruce questioned.

"Well bring him back!" Sam panicked.

"I did, I thought I-"

"Then where is he?"

"Guys." You cut in. They both stopped and looked at you. Then you pointed at the bench. "Over there."

Both of them looked at you with a confused expression on their face, until Bucky elaborated. "That's for you, Sam."

"Me?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You" you confirmed with a prideful grin.

He hesitantly made his way towards Steve, and watched the conversation from a distance. There wasn't very many words that needed to be exchanged, but even just thinking about how Steve was taking his life into his own hands and making such a big change for the happiness of his own self for once had you choked up.

Just a few weeks ago, he couldn't even fathom fighting for himself. Now, he had moved an entire mountain for his own future.

While this was happening, Bucky filled Bruce in on what was going on. You could hear their conversation, but your eyes never left Sam and Steve as you leaned against a tree.

A few moments went by before the two boys shared a nice hug, Steve stood up without his shield and made his way over to you.

Without a word and a big smile on his face, he reached his hand out to hold yours. Your connected arms swung as you made the shirt walk back into the cabin.

It wasn't until you both stepped inside and closed the door behind you that your arms flew around his neck and his lips pressed against yours.

"Congratulations, Baby!" You said enthusiastically.

"Thank you, Sunflower!" His smile was so uncontrollable he couldn't even get his lips to close enough to kiss you again even if he tried. "Couldn't have done it without you."

"I brought something to celebrate" You noted with a smile just as big as his.

"Champagne?" He questioned.

"Even better," you denied, walking away into the kitchen before pulling something out of the cabinet. You hid it behind your back before approaching him again. "Hold out your hands!"

"Okay" he giggled.

Swiftly, you placed a package of marshmallow cookies in his hands and his smile widened.

"I've been thinking about your Mom a lot since I got the place in Brooklyn, and I was thinking about how happy she would probably be if she knew you were taking a step down from fighting literal wars, going to space, and time traveling." You explained.

"Oh, if she knew anything about what I've been up to since she's passed, I think I would've given her a heart attack." Steve agreed, feeling a bit emotional knowing someone has been thinking of her just as often as he does.

"She deserves to be included in this celebration, considering she made you, and you've been worrying her from her peaceful rest since the moment you lied on your enlistment form."

"That, she does." Steve agreed and handed you a cookie before grabbing his own.

You held it up a bit as you presented a toast. "To the Rogers finding peace."

He giggled at your words before tapping his cookie against yours and eating it. Amused that this was the second time this week the two of you had cheered and celebrated with marshmallow cookies.

Steve finished chewing, swallowed, then an expression you didn't quite recognize spread across his face. It was like he wanted to tell you something, but hesitated and was now internally analyzing the words before they left his lips.

"What?" You asked, cocking your head to the side.

"Did you notice I was a few seconds late?" He asked.

You knew there was a statement beneath the question he asked. The wheels started turning as you wondered what he was getting on about. "I did. A few seconds for us was a few hours for you... what did you do?" You raised a curious bow.

"You know, that essay you wrote about Peggy really stuck with me." He started, you immediately smiled. "Had me thinking a lot about how I found a lot of peace over the lack of control while being in the ice because I got to know what happened to her. She got married to a man I rescued in the war, had kids, lived a full life."

"I already knew that, because I wrote that essay!" You joked, earning a good laugh from Steve.

"Very smart! Remind me to give you a gold star later!" He chuckled. "But she never got that for me, so I took your advice and paid her a visit."

"You just saw Peggy?!" You questioned with wide, sparkly eyes.

"I did." He told you, still a little cautious in not wanting to offend you. "Obviously she was a little shocked because she thought I was dead, but we sat down and had a nice conversation about what had happened and what was gonna happen. But most importantly I met her kids, and told her about you and that essay you wrote."

"No way!" Your smile widened, and your hands found his shoulders.

"Yes way! She was genuinely delighted to hear about us, and gave her best wishes. She also wanted me to pass along a hello to you, and let you know that she thinks you're beautiful. Oh, and she’s that I get all the cookies I want whenever I want them.”

“Stop it, that’s so cute!” You squeaked. “This is like the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me! And you got more closure, which is incredible! What a great day. I’m so happy for you, but I’m also just so happy in general. What an honor”

“I love you, Baby." Steve stated with a big smile, hands pulling you close again when they found their favorite spot on your hips. "I'm so thankful every single day that I found you. You've been a beacon of light in my life, I wouldn't have ever made it here without you to guide me."

"I love you too." You sighed contently, as his arms wrapped around you. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. We deserve this life together."

"We've been through so much to get to this moment. Thanks for sticking with me no matter what. I know it was hard and painful, and definitely illegal at one point, but I hope now I can prove to you that it was worth it."

"You don't have to prove it. You already did. It's been worth it the entire time, and I'll always choose you no matter how illegal it becomes." You smiled and squeezed him tight. "You're the bestest, coolest, loveliest human I've ever met."

"I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you." He kissed the top of your head.

"You've gotta propose for that one, Love." You poked.

"I'm working on it!" He said defensively, causing you to laugh.

And working on it he was. Because even though life proceeded as normal when you made it back to Greenwood, there was still a lot happening.

Bucky found a cute little apartment that was perfect for him not even two blocks away from the new bakery in Brooklyn. It felt like the perfect middle ground of still being close to you and Steve, all while still being able to live where he wanted geographically.

Shortly after Bucky moved out, you and Steve headed out on a trip to California to visit your Mom. This was a tricky one for Steve, because your relationship with you Mom was a tricky one for you.

Although your relationship with her was something you were actively improving since she came back from the snap, Steve still knew that her approval of him didn't mean much to you. But he was still old fashioned in the sense that he still at least wanted to meet her, and ask her for permission to propose to you before he popped the question.

Whether he felt like her permission or lack there of would actually make a difference for him taking what he wanted was a wash, but he wanted to do it anyways just to be able to know that he tried at the very least.

This was his second time visiting California with you, and he loved it just as much this time around. You guys stayed in your childhood bedroom at your Mom's house that resided in a lazy town on the bay.

He learned a lot about you from the charm of the house alone. The pictures on the walls of baby you, teenage you, and early adulthood you. Conversations exchanged with your mom over breakfast where she never missed an opportunity to share her favorite stories of your antics growing up. He also learned a lot about your Dad because of how frequently he came up in almost every conversation, and he desperately wished he could've met him. Just from what he's heard, he could tell a lot of who you were came from him.

Every night, you and Steve would go out onto the dock to watch the sunset and listen to music together.

You shared stories with him about what felt like endless hours of you sitting on the dock with your dad. Back then, the hours felt long and gruesome. As if sitting and watching the little creatures in the water beneath you was some sort of torture, but as you grew up and towards the end of his life, it became a sanctuary. It was the only place he seemed to be truly calm and relaxed as his memories and executive function left him. By that point, you wished the hours were endless rather than having a metaphorical clock ticking over his head.

Then, when the moon was out and the sky was dark it would somehow evolve into you and Steve slow dancing under the stars.

During the day you'd take him out and show him all of your favorite old spots. Hole in the wall food joints, family owned ice cream shops, the tide pools, and even long drives up the coast to the same music you would dance with him.

It was relaxed, easy, and Steve passed your Mom's unspoken test with flying colors. He sneakily got her approval two days before you guys left California while you were in the shower.

She was so happy about it that Steve almost had to keep you away from her as much as he could so she didn't ruin the surprise.

Then, on your last night in town, you guys walked over to the dock just like every other night since you've been here. Only this time, it was a little later. Dinner ran late so by the time you made it out for one last night, the sun was already setting.

But it was okay, because when the two of you approached hand in hand, and he watched your face twist up with a billion different emotions when you realized that the dock was covered in flowers and lit up with the soft golden glow of dozens of candles, it was all worth it.

At first you were sad because you thought it was for someone else, and the dock was now unusable for you and Steve on your last night. But as he continued walking towards it, and his hand holding yours was shaking and a little clammy, only then did you realize what was happening.

He could barely even get a single word out, let alone present the ring to you and get down on one knee before you were already saying yes. But he was thankful for your enthusiasm, because it instantly took his nerves away.

The ring was perfect, the proposal was perfect, and dancing under the twinkling stars and amongst the burning candles was perfect.

Your fiancé was perfect.

Knowing that he listened to your stories and took them to heart, and incorporating a special place that reminded you of your dad into your love story made you weep happy tears and he held you close and swayed you to the music.

Happy tears seemed to be a common occurrence between the two of you recently, and each little drop was well deserved and worked for.

That night when you got back to your Mom's place, you didn't even have to tell her the news before she flung her arms around you and Steve at the same time in a big bear hug. It was safe to say she was over the moon.

Just to make things even better, that night you and your Mom ended up having a really nice heart to heart. A lot of the issues you've had with her since you were little were addressed, and she apologized for encouraging you to stay with your ex after she realized how bad the relationship actually was. For the first time ever, she told you how proud of you she was, and how amazing you were for the success of the bakery. She promised to visit you out in Greenwood again, and see the bakery and Brooklyn on opening day.

For a little while, your life had felt like an embarrassment of riches, like or was going just a little too well for just a little too long.

Especially when Steve set off on a personal journey of trying to discover who he really was without jumping from battle to battle. It felt like every day the two of you would set off on a little adventure to try out something new.

Between work going so well, and all the fun dates you were going it, it felt like a smile didn't leave your face for months.

Long drives to little towns in the area, pottery and ceramics classes, yoga, pilates, meeting new friends at bars, then getting dragged home and put to bed, hosting dinner parties with you little Greenwood family, then doing the same thing all over again but in Brooklyn with friends you had made over in the big city. It was exciting, new, and you'd never seen Steve quite so radiant before.

Life was easy for a while, but with highs came lows that couldn't be ignored. The closer opening came for the Brooklyn bakery, the harsher the deadlines, and the more stressed you became.

Focusing on one bakery alone was a full time job in itself, but adding in another one had you practically ripping your hair out in the final few months.

All the choices fell on you, all of the paperwork fell on you, and all of the management choices that still needed to be made for the Greenwood bakery were on you as well, and there were no amount of shoulder massages and support Steve could give you to change that.

It was pretty much accepted that the only way out was through, and it would get much much easier once the new team of employees were trained and the doors were opened.

However, the stress took a toll on your body and landed you in the emergency room one fateful night. For the past year, your periods had become more and more painful. The second day of your cycle every since month Steve would try his best to console you through the pain. Hugs, back rubs, heating pads, painkillers, wasn't enough this time around.

You were throwing up, full body chills, goosebumps raised on your skin, and he couldn't get you to uncurl yourself from the tightest little ball unless it was to roll around in discomfort or getting up to vomit again. As much as it hurt his heart to have to bring you somewhere that had such traumatic experiences associated with it, you tapped out. The pain was so bad that you'd rather go to the emergency room than deal with it any more.

Luckily, the worst part was sitting in the waiting room. You sat curled up on his lap, and he held you so snug to him, it's like he was trying to hide you away from all the awful memories. When they finally took you back, they gave you so many pain killers that you were higher than a kite for the rest of it. Lots of exams, two doctors appointments, and a few medical bills later, they decided it was your birth control that needed to be switched.

All was well until a few months later when you woke up nauseous, and ravenously hungry at the same time. Having pushed through it, and gone to work, you called Steve on your lunch break to rant about how grouchy you felt, and how everything was getting on your last nerve.

He decided to stop by and drop off your favorite food to cheer you up since you still had a long day ahead of you. When he gave you a big long hug to try and make you feel better, you started crying because of how nice he was.

That's when it clicked in his head that your period was a whole week late. He brought it up cautiously, and you both agreed that you'd be taking a pregnancy test after work.

Steve picked up a few different kinds from the store, and both of you separately processed what this all meant while waiting for the time to come to have a real answer.

By the time you had gotten off of work and Steve ushered you straight up the stairs, you had gone through all seven stages of grief, and acceptance for whatever the future held for you. Mostly because you knew that no matter what, Steve would be incredible, and you were ready to take on anything life threw your way as long as he was there to hold your hand through it.

That's exactly what he did. You took the test, flipped it face down, and brought it out into the bedroom where you snuggled up together and for three whole minutes, he comforted you and reminded you that it would be okay no matter what.

The timer he set on his phone went off, you asked him to flip the test over.

Both of you read it at the same time, Negative.

Your eyes found each others faces to gauge any sort of reaction. He saw your lip wobbling and tears pooling in your lash line, and you saw him trying his absolute best to hide every drop of disappointment.

"Hey, it's okay." He reminded you with nothing louder than a soft whisper. When his gentle hands tucked your hair out of your face, and he grinned just to bring you some comfort, you fell apart. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry" You apologized, shoving your face into his chest. You didn't know if the apology was for your emotions or the disappointment you were both feeling but left unspoken.

"Don't you dare apologize, my love." He said sweetly, protectively cradling the back of your head. "All I wanted was your health to be a priority, that's why the test was important. As long as you're okay, I'm okay too."

As always, you took his words to heart. You never expected to be so disappointed by the negative result when you weren't actively trying to get pregnant in the first place. You also weren't expecting to be so effected by the tiniest shimmer of sadness in Steve's eyes when he read the test.

Your period showed up the next day, but the thought of having a baby intruded your every waking thought for the next month. It felt like the only time you weren't actively thinking about it was when you were working, but even then, you'd read deadlines printed on papers and wonder if now was a good time.

But then you realized now was a great time. The bakery was set to open in just a few short months, then most of the responsibility would be handed over to staff who was training hard to handle it. Steve was doing better now than ever, and wedding planning hadn't even started yet.

Much like Steve didn't want to propose until he retired, you didn't want to plan a wedding until the bakery was open for business.

With downtime promised in the future, and a sparkly engagement ring on your finger that reminded you of your sweet handsome boy, you decided to just talk to him about the possibility of even just trying.

Just like always, Steve was a thoughtful guy. He choose all of his words carefully through all of your long conversations about the decision to have a kid. You knew he so badly wanted to say yes, in fact, you swore if he was a dog his tail would be wagging every time he even thought about it. But it was a big choice and a huge life change, he wanted to make sure it was really something you wanted and not something you felt pressured into since that one fateful day.

It took 3 more weeks before both of you were wholeheartedly committed to the endeavor with the agreement and the knowledge that it might mot happen right away.

The prospect settled in your mind, and you just enjoyed the journey while you allowed work to be your main priority at the moment. And with so many deadlines approaching, you really didn't have any other choice than to just let the universe work it's magic.

The closer opening day became, it was like the bakery had become your and Steve's child. The two for you spent weeks in the store in Brooklyn painting walls, assembling endless amounts of furniture, directing deliveries, and decorating the lobby to live up to the very high standards of the Greenwood location.

By the time the kitchen was fully stocked, employees were trained, and the whole space was perfect from head to toe, you were both exhausted.

The very last night before opening, you checked every last screw, every bulb in the bake case, every seam in the wallpaper, and quality controlled every last desert on a finalized menu, you and Steve quite literally laid sprawled out on the floor of the lobby.

Steve took a good look around, and was so incredibly proud of all the blood, sweat, and tears you shed to make your dreams come true. He knew that if his mom was around to see what this building had turned into if not her beloved bodega, she would be absolutely thrilled to have something like this in the neighborhood.

You laid flat on your back, looking up at the expertly painted ceiling mural and the chandelier, every crystal hung from it by the will of your own two hands.

Then, your rolled over onto your stomach, and your hand pat right in the center of Steve's chest.

"It's midnight, and I have to be back here at 4 in the morning. Maybe I should just have a sleepover." Your exhausted grin took over when you saw his sleepy face.

"You should get a few hours of real sleep before your big day, pretty lady." Steve denied, getting up off the floor and offering his hands to pull you up off the floor. "It looks incredible, you did an amazing job as always."

"It's funny that you think I'll get any sleep at all" You stood, then gave him a kiss. "I really couldn't have done it without your help, so, thank you, Baby."

"Anything for you." He smiled. "I can't wait to see it in the morning, I have butterflies just thinking about this place full of people."

"You and me both." You squeezed his hand. "You don't think the rug clashes with the wallpaper? And the chairs match the wood on the booths?"

"Stop, it's perfect." Steve put your mind to rest. "Just like you!"

"Yeah yeah yeah," you giggled, walking behind the counter. "I guess you're pretty cool too. There's a few cookies left from the test bake. You want some?"

"Wait! Hold on" Steve said dramatically, walking away from you and out of the store.

You stood there confused for a few moments, before he walked back in. Nothing had changed, but he did approach the counter.

"Hello, I'm your first customer!" He enthused.

You giggled, looking at the case that was empty besides 2 chocolate chip cookies. "Hi there, Honey! What can I get'cha?"

"One chocolate chip cookie please" He smiled.

You knew he was recreating the moment the two of you met, though that felt like lifetimes ago, you could never forget the vivid memory of seeing his handsome face for the very first time.

"Okay, but I'm giving you two, because I think anyone who orders one cookie is lying to themselves." You said, putting the cookies in a bag for him.

"Why thank you very much!"

"I don't think I've seen you around here before, are you driving through?" You joked.

"Something like that." He chuckled.

"Well I hope to see you around here again soon, and here are your cookies." You handed him the bag.

"How much do I owe you?" Steve asked.

"They're on the house."

"I couldn't possibly accept that" Steve denied, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. Out came the very same $20 bill the two of you have been passing back and forth since the day you met. You smiled and shook your head at him as he handed it to you. "You have a big day tomorrow, I think it's your turn to hold onto the good luck charm."

You accepted the pass off, "this doesn't mean I lost this argument, did it?"

"It totally does" Steve did a little happy dance.

"You're a cheeky little shit, but I love you."

He laughed at your statement, "I love you more!"

"I have a little surprise for you" You noted.

"You do?" His eyebrows raised.

Nodding, you pointed to an empty slot in the bake case. His eyes followed to read the tag, Sarah's Sandwich Cookies.

His big blues met yours again with the happiest puppy dog pout you've ever seen in your life, if that was even possible.

"What you said about your Mom really stuck with me, and I wanted to make sure her and her love for cookies were honored in a place you hold special memories in. So, marshmallow cookies are permanent and exclusive on the menu for this location." You explained.

He didn't have much to say, but he did walk around the counter and wrap you up in a big hug. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you."

"I wish I could've met her." You noted.

"She would've loved you so much, probably more than me." He giggled from above you.

"Impossible" you denied.

He gave you a kiss before letting you go.

"As much as I'd love to stay here forever and ever, I really do want to make sure you get some sleep." Steve noted.

"We can go now." You agreed, heart nervously pounding in your chest. "hey, really quick do you mind checking the oven to make sure it properly cooled down while I lock this register?" You asked.

"Sure thing, sweet thing" he nodded.

As he walked off, you smiled to yourself and your stomach filled with butterflies. You let him get a few paces ahead of you before leaning into the doorway of the kitchen while watching him reach for and open the oven doors.

He checked the temperature of the internal thermometer, which looked normal to him, but then, he stopped.

"Hey, I think someone forgot something in here!" He shouted for you, not quite understanding.

"That's odd, what is it?" You approached from behind.

"A cinnamon roll, but just one, and it's on a... plate?" He looked at it again. "Did you guys even make cinnamon rolls today?"

You smiled and shook your head at his wholesome cluelessness, but all of his attention was directed at getting the cinnamon roll out of the oven.

"No, we didn't." You denied. "But why would that be there in the first place?"

"Maybe someone wanted to warm one up them forgot about it" He pondered before pouting at it. "I don't know if that's more sad for the cinnamon roll or the person who forgo-"

Then he stopped.

His eyes met yours and his mouth fell open.

"Why would there possibly be a bun in the oven?!" You continued questioning with a huge uncontrollable smile, even though you were positive he understood now.

"You're lying." His eyes went wide, smile slowly spreading across his lips as tears welled in his eyes.

"No I'm not." You shook your head again with a chuckle and walked towards him. Out of your back pocket, you pulled out a very positive pregnancy test and showed it to him. "I'm definitely pregnant, like, super pregnant."

"You're pregnant?!" He blinked back his tears, one fell right down his cheek. "Like, right now?!"

You wiped it off with your thumb as you laughed at his question. "Right now."

"Holy shit!" He smiled, his hands landing on your shoulders, gently shaking them very enthusiastically. "You're pregnant! We're having a baby!"

"We are, we really really are!" You shared his enthusiasm, shaking his shoulders right back.

"Oh my gosh! When did you find out?" He questioned, eyes wide and staring at you in disbelief.

"Three days ago, I would've told you sooner but I wanted to surprise you." You explained, wiping another happy tear off his cheek.

"That's crazy, this is so crazy." He chuckled, finding himself unable to stop the tears from dripping down his cheeks. "How are you, are you feeling okay?"

"I've been constantly nauseous and trying so hard to hide it." You giggled at your own confession. "But other than that, so far so good. Are you feeling okay?"

"I didn't even know it was possible to be this happy or this in love but for some reason I'm feeling both at the same time, and I don't know what to do with myself." He confessed.

You smiled at his state of emotion, and smothered his face in kisses as he processed the news you just told him. Then, the news sunk in and his arms wrapped around you, and he took his turn smothering you in kisses.

"I'm so excited to go on this journey with you, this is incredible" he cried happily.

"You're gonna be the best dad ever." You cheesed, squeezing him back.

With two fingers under your chin, he raised your head and pressed a long, loving kiss on your lips. His palm rested on your cheek, and you sleepily sighed at the comfort of being held by your favorite boy.

"God, I love you so much." He confessed once more for the billionth time that day. "This is the most selfless thing anyone could ever do for someone, and I get to spend the rest of my life spoiling you rotten every single day and I'm so happy about it."

"It was so hard for me not to immediately tell you" You giggled. "But it was worth it to see you cute little face."

"Now I really want to make sure you get some sleep!" He enthused. "Oh, also..."

He pulled away from you and reached into his pocket, then pulled out a crisp $10 bill and handed it to you.

"What is this for?" You questioned, unable to hide your smile.

"Extra good luck! 10 for you, 10 for me, 10 for cinnamon roll." He explained.

"Never in my life have I felt quite as lucky as I do right now." You accepted.

$30 worth of good luck or not, the universe sent you Steve Rogers, and that was the day you won the lottery. That made you the luckiest girl I'm the whole world.

"Baby, if you need anything, and I mean anything, you better tell me to get it done for you. Hungry? I'm gonna find you a Michelin star meal. Tired? You better believe you're getting a full body massage. Can't reach the top shelf? Ring a bell and I'll bring a latter." He told you, and you could tell he was being absolutely serious. "I don't want you lifting a single finger, and I mean it!"

You chuckled and shook your head. "Don't say what you don't mean, because I'm going to be needing you a lot of that's the case"

"Being needed is literally all I've ever wanted in life" Steve accepted your statement.

"Well now with our little cinnamon roll on the way, we're both going to need you more than you'll ever know." You kissed him, and wiped the last of the happy tears off of his cheeks.

"You're right, it really is so nice to be needed."

The end 🌟🤍

@patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84 @bitchy-bi-trash @crazyunsexycool @openup-yourmind @selella @kattreffic @benedict-squirtle @magnificentsaladllama @calwitch @avengersinitiative2012 @rogersbarber @daddywattpad4945

[autistichalsin]

I love my mom but the lying and guilt tripping gets to be so much sometimes.

IE she overheard me talking about getting my brother a ticket to fly to comic con with us. She got pissed about money (fair enough I guess since he still lives with her and my dad) but then I brought up we were helping, and she got mad at me saying she missed my college graduation because of money so why didn't we help?

I just about lost it. I BEGGED her to come. I offered to pay for all the hotels or plane tickets. She's scared of flying so wouldn't do that, and won't let my dad go anywhere without her, so that was a no. And she said the drive was way too long, she'd be really uncomfortable, and my dad couldn't take that long off work.

She didn't come because she didn't think it was important. Bottom line.

In fact, I even mentioned at one point before the graduation I was grateful, as much as the pandemic sucked, that the graduation would be getting livestreamed because it meant she and my dad would see it no matter what. And she (granted, drinking at the time, but still) said it was horrible for me to celebrate people dying just so I could have a graduation.

EVERY TIME I brought up my graduation, she never showed the slightest interest, nor the slightest bit of sympathy that she was missing it. She went out of her way to blame me, act like I was the one being unreasonable. She continued showing absolutely no interest for my Masters graduation, so that I ended up not even bothering to travel (online program) because I knew no one would be there for me anyway, so why bother.

I didn't even get to go to my high school graduation, because it was an online program on the other side of the state. I had to be held back a year when depression hampered my academic performance, and my older siblings had already dropped out; in desperation, trying to motivate me not to do the same, my dad promised me that if I made it, they would too. So I worked through, got the credits I needed... and nope. My mom screamed that my dad spent too much on getting the car up to pass inspection standards (how does that even make sense) and that we therefore couldn't afford to go. So I didn't get to attend that either.

And you know what? Honestly, I made my peace with it- with the fact that my mom will never care about me the way she cares about my sister, that she just doesn't think my successes are worth celebrating (unless she can brag to someone online to seem like a good parent, I guess) and lacks the empathy to understand why me having my parents with me at major life events is a big deal. I worked through that and made my peace with it and have quietly decided I am not even going to bother inviting them to any future events I have, unless maybe I get married one day, I guess, though I feel she'd still try to find excuses not to go to that if it was more than a four hour drive from her.

I could deal with all that. But she fucking LIED about it to guilt trip me. She lied that she WANTED to come and it was money preventing her. That I never tried to help her get to me. And that's the part that hurts the most. That she wasn't there to celebrate when it mattered, but now has the nerve to lie about it and play victim, as though I'm the reason she wasn't there.

She always does this shit! When I was a senior in undergrad, there was an undergraduate research symposium everyone in my major was required to present at. It was ALSO on Zoom, so no excuse not to make it. I asked her and my dad multiple times if they'd like to see my present my research paper on a Japanese death cult and the effects it had on Japanese culture. They BOTH declined. So I invited my grandma, who was happy to be invited, and my best friend even walked her through setting up Zoom for the first time. AFTER the event, when I was telling my mom and dad on the phone about my grandma loving my presentation, THEN my mom got livid and said she had NEVER been invited, and of COURSE she would have come if she had the chance, why did I invite my grandma and not her?

She doesn't want to share in important things with me but then she gets pissed if I then share them with others instead. I guess she wants to feel so important that her declining would make me refuse entirely instead (as with my Masters degree ceremony?) I don't know.

I'm just tired of this man.

[genericpuff]

Hey quick question.

How do you know if you should make a webcomic? I have this story idea that’s been floating around in the back of my head that I think could work well for a comic series. But the problem is I’m mainly used to writing screenplays and more traditional writing.

What I’m saying is, how can I tell if making a webcomic is worth it or if I should stick in my comfort zone?

I mean, there's no definitive right answer when it comes to "knowing" if you should make a webcomic. It really just comes down to you. Do you really like the medium? Do you feel your story has to be told within that medium to achieve its goals?

Same thing goes for whether or not it's "worth it", it really comes down to how you define that. For some people, simply posting their comics online to a few readers each week is worth it. For others, if it doesn't get into print or publishing or whatever have you, it might not be quite so justifiable to keep up with. Neither is better or worse than the other, both reasons are valid because it ultimately comes down to what we as individuals are trying to accomplish and what we define as "worth it" on a personal level.

I actually live on both sides of the spectrum right now because with Rekindled, posting it on Tumblr and getting all the great feedback and company through the audience it's gained makes it worth it. But that worth was defined by my expectations going in - I wasn't making Rekindled for money (legally I can't), I wasn't making it to get an Originals deal or anything of the sort, I was just making it because I found myself deadset on going through with it after months of it living in my head rent free, and so what I've gotten out of it as a result is very much worth it, all I was really looking for was maybe some other readers who would enjoy reading a transformative 'foe fiction' from a former LO fan and I've found those readers in spades simply due to the demand.

Time Gate, on the other hand, was something that I wanted for years to be a 'successful' project, defined more by actual tangible growth and gain. Because I came up with it as a kid, for a long time it was my "magnum opus" project, the thing that I wanted to see get turned into books and an anime and a video game and all those sorts of things as 'proof' of how good it was. Of course, I know now years later that those expectations were WAY too high and it resulted in me feeling incredibly depressed over it for ages. It made it hard to work on and even though I did have some readers, I didn't see it as "worth it" because my expectations were a lot higher than that of Rekindled's going in. But that was simply a matter of experience at that point, because I had been making original comics for so long, when I went into Rekindled I knew a lot more what I was capable of, what I wasn't capable of, and what boundaries I was willing to put down for myself. Even still, I do still want to return to Time Gate some day and when I do, I want to still treat it like a series I want to get off the ground as an actual published piece of work - it's just that this time around, I actually know how to make those steps and be proactive in my approach (and I know where to keep my expectations) which is certainly a perspective and skillset I didn't have when I was 15 LMAO

I will say, realistically speaking, it is a lot harder to pursue webcomics as a writer, because the reality of this medium is that most people who go into it are artists who learn how to write to make a webcomic, not the other way around. Unless you're willing to learn how to draw - which is a whole other skillset that requires years of work and patience - you're likely going to have to seek someone to collaborate with and - I cannot stress this enough - it's not going to be someone you simply find on reddit who's willing to work for free. Again, many of us as artists went into webcomics with a project already in mind, so most artists are already working on their own passion projects, trying to convince someone else to work on yours is just not realistic or fair. I'm fortunate enough to have @banshriek along for the production of Rekindled and even then I still pay for their contributions out of pocket, they're as invested in an LO rewrite project as I am (and thus they're given a lot of room to make suggestions in both the set designs and the writing), and I still had to carry the first 20ish episodes on my own before they joined along, i.e. I would still be making Rekindled if they weren't onboard, but having them is a massive help that's taken the comic to a whole other level in its artistic production.

But that doesn't mean it's hopeless! There's a lot of interest right now in webnovels and writing comic scripts is still a completely viable way to get into the comics industry if you're really interested in doing so (fun fact: before I was making comics, I wrote fanfiction! This is probably not shocking to hear all things considered LMAO) There's a reason Webtoons owns Wattpad now, webnovels are a no-brainer when it comes to adaptations to visual mediums, and webcomics have become part of that environment by extension. So at the very least, if you want to get your story out there, there are loads of ways to do it that don't require you to make a comic - but if you really want to make one, there are ways to get into that industry through writing in other ways such as pitching scripts to comic publishers and/or going indie with webnovels. Ultimately, if many of us webcomic creators stopped drawing our works, we'd still be coming up with stories to write, because that's what's really at the heart of these sorts of projects. So even if you can't get into comics right away due to lack of visual artistry, that doesn't mean it's off the table forever ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Sorry, that was a lot of rambling but I hope it helps ! Remember to keep your goals and expectations manageable, and most of all, write lots! You'll be doing it anyways regardless of whether or not you get into comics, so whatever value you see in getting into comics is up to you to determine! You don't have to know right away, it might be something you'll find along the way or have to adjust as you get more experience, but don't stop yourself from getting creative and messing around until you find out what works! You won't know if it was worth leaving your comfort zone until you try it <3

Good luck! (•̀ᴗ•́)و

[mixedcontents]

Thinking about how Alan and Alice love each other so much and what they're willing go go through for each other. Alan willingly being trapped in the dark place to get Alice out all his fighting for her and Alice willingly sacrificing herself in the second game knowing she'll be going to the dark place despite her absolute terror of the dark and her wanting to see and capture Alan/Scratch so badly she was willing to make so much of their apartment dark so he'd show up and her depression and grief so bad she probably would have succumbed to it had it not been for Barry who she did not like at all til after she got to know him truly without her husband and Barry loved Alan so much even though he went to hell and back he tried pretending it wasn't real and a reaction to the trauma of losing Alan and he spent the time since protecting and continuing Alan's work (being turned into shows/movies) and yet spent so much of his time caring for Alice in her grief despite his own saving her pulling her out of that darkness until she was able to pull herself out and stand on her own and yet even from across the country busy with Alan's work and meetings to get it perfect so Alan would be proud and happy with it were he there Barry still checks in with Alice daily and is gonna come back at the drop of a hat should she not reply for one day just all the love there and in the dark place we see Alan loving Alice wanting to get back to her and that's reflected a lot in the graffiti but also we see Barry there to like Wheeler Street and whatnot and then Saga and her grandfather and grand uncle and despite not knowing them feeling that connection and coming to love them they do everything to try to help and protect her walking into the dark place themselves her love for her daughter and husband her love for Alex Casey just it may be a horror story but at its heart Alan Wake is really a love story and it has been one of my favorite games since I played the first one and American Nightmare when they first came out 13ish years ago I was finishing up high school and so in love with the game for it's story and characters and unique and incredible game play and I desperately wanted all my friends to play and love it too and i desperately wanted more and then alan wake 2 was worth the wait and not knowing we'd ever have a sequel and then some it took what made the first game incredible and the love the fans had and the story and introduced new mechanics and characters and just built upon what made the first game incredible and more and I love it so much I was going through a really rough time and I was spending most of my time in bed trying to sleep the pain away and my depression getting bad bc i was unable to physically do anything and my mom was getting really worried about me as we waited for my specialist appointments (my mri for my knee is tomorrow finally!) And so I was like what can I do to convince myself to at least get out of bed and sit up for a while so i splurged and bought a ps5 earlier than planned just so i could play Alan Wake 2 cause it was the one thing I really wanted to do little did I know that the game would become the reason for getting out of bed excited for a new day and that it would help keep my own darkness (depression due to chronic pain and injury) at bay truly both games hold special places in my heart and mind for both what they are but also what they mean to me for the horrible things i was going through when playing them for the first time and the way they brought so much light and joy to my life may be a bit silly sounding to some but it means the world to me I truly am excited to play the dlc lake house when it comes out and I'm excited to see where Sam Lake goes next be it Alan Wake or new games I know I'll be happy to play em 💜💛🧡❤️

[tizzyizzy]

Ed's Song vs Izzy's Song

Both scenes involve troubled leather-wearing pirates putting themselves out there to the crew of the Revenge through the medium of song. But what are the differences?

Captain Instigated vs. Crew Instigated

It is Ed who is the first to sing, much to the bafflement of the crew. He has feelings and he wants to express them to a supportive group. This leads into Buttons's experimental tone based singing and Ed's idea for a talent show. The crew are totally on board, but this is still Ed, as captain, setting the agenda.

Calypso's Birthday is an event the crew come up with, separately from the captains. In fact, the holiday itself is a kind of defiance of authority. It's a "pretend holiday" that a captain can "fall for", and Stede agrees to play along. Izzy even isn't even there for the initial planning. Izzy's role comes later; his singing is a contribution to and complement to a tone already set by the rest of the crew.

Emotional Low vs. Emotional High

Ed is at his lowest point in the narrative so far. Stede, a man he opened his heart to for the first time in his life, abadoned him. His hopes for a gentler life have been shattered. His conversation with Lucius and singing to the crew are desperate attempts to elicit the emotional support that Stede was the first to give him. And the crew are supportive, even asking him to sing again.

Izzy sings at the peak of his emotional health in the series. He is no longer obsessing over Edward. He's developed trust and friendships with the crew. The fact that Izzy is putting himself out there, wearing makeup and singing in front of these people, is proof of how far he's come.

This is reflected in their clothing choices, or lack thereof. Ed has dragged himself out of his depression pit and looks like it. Izzy is wearing makeup and a flower, and has never appeared so gussied up.

New Relationship vs. Tested Relationship

While Ed did pal around on the Revenge, and Lucius in particular offered him relationship advice, he spent most of his time and emotional energy on Stede. For everyone on the crew, except perhaps Lucius, seeing Ed suddenly being so vulnerable and open with them was something of a shock. They rallied, but from their expressions it's clear they aren't initially sure how to react. They're up for forming a closer relationship with Ed, but this is just the start.

Izzy's relationship with the crew had been developing in every season 2 episode before his solo. It started with Izzy reluctantly allowing himself to be hugged by Fang, and has included him saving the crew from a suicidal Blackbeard, a gift of a peg leg, and chats about trauma with Lucius. Izzy's song can be seen as a gift to the crew, or even a love song to them. It is his relationship with them that has allowed him to feel safe enough to come out of his shell.

Implications?

While both characters are trying to connect to the crew, when we compare Ed's experience to Izzy's, it's easier to see how Ed's actions and emotional situation were not ideal. All it takes is one conversation with Izzy for Ed to start regarding the crew with suspicious or resentment again, more of an emotional threat like Stede than a source of comfort. He swings in the other direction and attempts to kill all but two, whom he kidnaps.

While Izzy does not have an Izzy figure in his life to express disgust for his soft, unpirate-like behavior, it's doubtful that he'd pay them any mind at this point in his emotional development. If, for example, Ed had insulted him after this song, Izzy would have told him to fuck off.

It's also worth pointing out that Ed's song was followed with him suggesting a talent show and toying with the idea of giving up piracy. These actions are both out of character and that latter is a pretty extreme, impractical suggestion. Ed seems to be flailing around, uncertain about his identity and desires.

While on the surface, Izzy's makeup and singing might seem like an even more extreme change, both a appropriate for the event he is participating in: a party. While he is trying something new, he is doing so within the confines of a space and time designated for such activities. He isn't even the most garishly dressed: he was specifically emulating Wee John, who appears in even more elaborate drag. His core personality hasn't really changed much. He still says fuck and can be abrasive. He smiles when he watched Stede kill Ned Lowe, unbothered by the violence as usual. He's still a pirate.

Of course this is not me saying "Izzy good, Ed bad". It just shows the difference between two characters at different points in their story. It was good Ed was reaching out for help, but he was emotionally fragile, and overcorrected at the first challenge. Izzy had to go through hell and be forcibly adopted to get where he is.

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way: Chapter 9

Dark!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Tommy Miller x reader (secondary)

Masterlist

Spotify playlist

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, and both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

Pacing is a bit off for reason's I'll explain at the end so uh have mercy. I shifted thing a bit but I think it'll make the last chapter better.

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

If we had a daughter I'd watch and could not save her The emotional torture From the head of your high table She'd do what you taught her She'd meet the same cruel fate So now I've gotta run So I can undo this mistake At least I've gotta try... -Labour, Paris Paloma

It was cool out, and the fall leaves crunched under Joel heavy footsteps, shuttering and flittering as he pulls you across the lawn, screaming his brother's name in vain, horse shouts. 

You were supposed to rake tomorrow. 

“TOMMY! TOMMY! TOMMY!” was all you could say, all sense having left you as soon as you were thrown around in the kitchen. It was another slap that brought you back to reality, opening your eyes to come face to face with the man who had beaten and loved you in such harsh contrast this last year, pulling you both to stand on top of a chair. Your shirt felt wet from how much you cried and were still sobbing, but you have enough thought, just barely, to stop screaming for Tommy… he let go, and you wanted to run, wanted to protect your baby… but you’d get nowhere. You look down at the crowd that gathered, all men you recognized, some you liked, some you knew were just waiting for Joel to relinquish you to them… and Lorenzo, his normally droopy bedroom eyes opened wide with fear.

This is how you’d die, isn’t it?

Joel yanked your face back to him. “They ain’t gonna save yuh, little one. Not even Tommy would save you, you know that, right, for all you cry for him, he still chose me over you. He chose Maria over you, because you are NOTHING! You were nothing but a pastime to him but me?” A rush of calm as he held your chin tightly, nails digging into the skin and clawing your face open. “I love you, princess, and all you do is hurt me.” His voice was soft, small, and for a foolish moment you think maybe he already peaked in his rage… until a strong, painful punch in your sternum knocked all breath out of you... and again. and again.

You hear Lorenzo call out your name, and through your sore throat and abused body, you manage to get out and small ‘don’t’. You hope Renzo knows that’s meant for him. Don’t do it. Don’t risk your life for me, I’m not worth it.

Joel throws the rope over the tree branch, and as you look at your surroundings, you are struck with horror at the realization that this is the tree in which Nick’s skeleton lay at the foot; an area you always intentionally avoided since Joel brought you out here so, so long ago. The rope that his hands hung from as Joel skinned him alive was across from you… was that your intended fate? Would he really do that to you, 8 months pregnant? Or would he kill you and preform some sick, botched c-section?

He fashioned a noose around your neck.

“Joel, Joel please, I’m sorry”

“I don’t fucking care!”

“THE BABY, JOEL!” You sob, pleading for your child's life. “Please, please just wait until I give birth, then you can do whatever you want but they shouldn’t be punished because of me!”

“You’re right, she shouldn’t” Joel always referred to the baby as ‘she’, despite no evidence. He pulled the rope tight, causing you to choke and stand on your toes to keep breathing. “This is your fault.” He slapped you, making your head swing wildly to the right. “It’s your fault I’m hurting you.” He slapped you again, and you felt blood leave your mouth. “You hurt me!” He screamed, and another slap. The ringing in your ear doesn’t prevent you from hearing him as he tells you that you are hurting the baby yourself before delivering his final blow. You can’t focus your eyes at all… but you can hear him, although you wish you couldn’t. From the loud voice and the feel of his breath, he’s right in front of you. “I should tie us both up, little one, and kick this chair out from under us, end it all, is that what you want?”

No, absolutely not. Even after everything, you didn’t want Joel dead, and it hurt you to hear the pain in his voice, just as it hurt to see the betrayal in his eyes as he learned of Tommy… You loved him, you loved him, you loved…

“N-o!” you choke out, the harsh rope burning on your throat.

“As much as I know you want me to,” Despite the fact you said no, he was so convinced you hated him. “You don’t get to win, cheating bitch.”

He hops down, rope in hand, tying it to the bar of the chair and leaving you gagging and rasping on your tippy toes for air on the chair. He mutters his usual threats to the men, that anyone who helps you or touches you is dead, and you watch him walk away towards the house. 

So you stand there for what feels like forever, attempting to pull the noose off but you can barely breath, can barely see, can barely hear… you can, however, feel your precious baby kicking.

One by one, the men get bored and wander off inside, until two bodies are left.

You register Lorenzo’s smell, alcohol and those strange gross cigarettes he smokes, hoping up on the chair and quickly taking you down. You can’t stand, and Lorenzo barely stops you from completely collapsing on the ground. He yells at Jack to help him carry you inside, but Jack hesitates, no doubt not wanting to die… but after back and forth, another arm is lifting you up, and your heavily pregnant form is stumbling back to your home.

“Hey, stay with me sweetheart, we’re gonna get you back, okay? But I need you to stay awake, I think you’re concussed”

You don’t answer; you can’t answer, really… even as you slowly start to gain a little focus. Lorenzo is talking you through it. ‘Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot.’ Although you’re certain Lorenzo could carry you on a normal day, 8 months pregnant was another story.

You weren’t sure what his plan was, but it didn't really matter as Joel was waiting inside for you.

“Jack, take the girl.”

Lorenzo spoke up. “Joel, calm down, I know damn well you didn’t want her dead-”

“Jack, take the girl, and cover her eyes.”

You try to say no, to tell Joel to stop, but words don’t form like they should… Joel wouldn’t listen anyway.

So, there you are, stuck in Jack’s arms which were oddly tight, protective and comforting as Lorenzo’s blood splattered on you both, Joel pistol whipping him hard before shooting.

Lorenzo’s body falls to the floor as a clump of deadweight, and as Joel grabs you, dragging you into the room, all you can glimpse is Jack frantically trying to stop Lorenzo’s bleeding as your only friend screamed in pain on the floor.

When the door closes, Joel is a new person, pulling you to him and onto the bed. He was sat up against the wall, holding your back to his chest as your body wracked in sobs. Lorenzo was dead, you were in pain, and you were so, so scared for your baby. Could they survive what Joel had just done to you? You were certain it was over for now, Joel was back to his lovey, post-violence state had already set in… but what about next time? Joel had been safe for months… months where you didn’t run, you cooked and cleaned and serviced him and fucking hell, you fell in love! You loved him! You were the best possible wife you could’ve been, all while carrying his child, and even the mere suggestion of waiting on having another instead of pumping them out like he wanted, and he nearly killed you.

Was he trying to kill you?

Lorenzo said he wasn’t.

But you weren’t sure…

Lorenzo…

Despite the protruding stomach, he began to massage your core, and you were too violently ill and dizzied to protest. You’d be too scared to even try, anyway. You weren’t sure how long he tried until he gave up, but it felt like forever, minute after minute of your shaking, aching body crying in his arms as he tried to bring you to orgasm with his hands before realizing you weren’t the slightest bit wet. Your body didn’t even have it in you to attempt to betray you this time.

So Joel just held you, and held you tight, so tight you couldn’t hardly breathe again and you had no choice but to try and relax yourself until the sobs bubbled down to gentle hiccups and a steady stream of tears.

“Why do you make me do this to you?” Joel spoke, his voice croaking and you suddenly notice tears on your neck. “Why do you make me hurt you?”

“I d- I don’t know.” You gasped and tried to answer through the shaking tears.

“I don’t want to do this, you know that right?”

“Uh-uh”

“You make me act like this. I’ve been good to you, haven't I?”

“Y-y-yeah-ah.”

You almost killed me and our baby.

“I feed you, I care for you.”

“Y-yeah”

Tommy fed me. I cook for you.

“I make love to you, I make you come, don’t I?”

“Yeah.”

You rape me.

“You’re my wife”

You kidnapped me.

“I gave you a child.”

You forced this on me.

“I gave you a life here, free from your father.”

You ripped me away from Zach and June, you sent Tommy away, you killed Lorenzo.

“But still, you treat me like dirt.”

I cared for you. I’ve been a nurse, a servant, a cook, a whore

“You cheated on me with my own brother”

I was terrified of losing my virginity, and Tommy was safer than you.

“You disrespect me”

I asked a question.

“You know why I do this, right? It’s for your own good. Our baby needs a good mother, she needs a mother who will love her unconditionally, who will always be there for her, to be a good example. I can’t have you running around making her feel unwanted, can I?”

“No.”

Joel buried his wet, crying face in your hair. “So it’s not really my fault, is it?” It was like he was begging for forgiveness, for absolution, justifying it to you, to himself, maybe even to Sarah…

You answer him, sleepy, head throbbing and you feel like you could throw up. “No, it’s my fault.” and it was. It was your fault for not leaving with Zach, for not taking him up on countless offers he made in letters Lorenzo passed between you, offering to run away with you and June and Lorenzo… even continuing to beg into the pregnancy, but you ignored him, causing many fights between you and Lorenzo. It was your fault, and now Lorenzo was dead or dying and you were trapped with no way to contact Zach, no way to get to him…

He caresses your head and body. “Yeah, it’s yours, but it’s okay, I forgive you. You’ll do better, I just know it.” Joel sounded like he was about to fall asleep too. “You’ll be good for her. You’ll be a good mom for Sarah.”

If you weren’t so fucking tired, the revelatin of the extent of Joel’s dellousions would be shocking to you, but you couldn’t find anything shocking anymore.

“I spoke to Tommy the other day.” He sat up, laying you down into bed and tucking you in. “He’s doing good.” A kiss on the cheek and he continued his talking. “I was think’n, maybe after she’s born, we could see Tommy a little bit? Not much” Joel was quick to warn. “Maybe just… once every month or two… so Dolly can know her uncle?” He was back to using Dolly… “Would you like that? See’n him a little bit here and there?” He was offering you an olive branch.

“Y-yes, I’d like that.” Tommy… seeing Tommy again… You wanted him so badly, you missed him so much it hurt… Lorenzo was a blessing, he was like a brother, but Tommy was someone special. A kind, soft heart in a world of monsters…

“Go to sleep, little one. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

You thought you shouldn’t sleep, given that you were clearly concussed, but Joel was so warm beside you, big and broad and protectively wrapping his arms around you… You allow yourself to drift off; there was no use fighting it anymore.

But tomorrow wouldn’t be a new day. Tomorrow would be the same thing. Cooking, cleaning, baby, sex… every day for the rest of your fucking life.

The next morning Joel brought you eggs and toast... Breakfast in bed like a good husband… You waited until it was safe to ask about Lorenzo.

Hesitantly, Joel let you go see him… he was alive, but barely. The gunshot went straight through, thank god, but the wound on his torso was already looking infected, and his face was deeply swollen and bruised; Jack was no nurse. 

But Lorenzo was still Lorenzo. “Hey sweetheart, you look like shit” 

You smile at him. “Yeah, you’re not exactly Han Solo yourself.”

“Now, how come you know who Han Solo is but you don’t know Fleetwood Mac?”

You go on to explain the comics and Joel telling you all about it while you care for his wounds, making little jabs at each other until you are done, and he grabs your hand; sincerity in his voice.

“What happened? After he shot me… what happened?” 

Lip quivering, you answer. “Nothing, really. He took me into our room and he-he held me and cried-”

He furrowed his brow at that. “He cried or you cried?”

“B-Both” You whimpered.

“Jesus”

“And he-he-he he told me I made him do it, that it’s my fault and I was a bad mom-”

Lorenzo groaned, and went to scrub his face, but yelped and winced in pain from his pistol whip. “Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me. I know I call you stupid and dumb and… I don’t understand why you stay, I really don’t… but…” He reached out and took your hand. “But this is not your fault. Even when you stay, even when you make him mad, it’s not your fault, and you are not a bad mom.”

You allow yourself to cry as he tells you, being perhaps the first person to say…

This isn’t your fault.

Two days later was when Joel left you next. You had sworn up and down you would forgive him so long as he got Lorenzo the medicine he needed, and tried your best to give him the best makeup ‘I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, Joel, I’ll do better next time, please don’t kill me’ sex you could give to smooth it all over.

The closet was locked; he kept your shoes in there, as he did any warm coats or gloves or anything that made aid in running away, but you didn’t care. You were going to the barn, you were taking a horse, and you were getting far, far away from here. You had a tinge of remorse for leaving Lorenzo; Joel will surely take it out on him, but you had gotten him his medicine and with it, a fighting chance. 

Right now, you have to run. Nothing mattered more than your baby’s life.

It was cold, crisp, but not unbearable in your sweats, socks, shirt and jacket. You had to find your way to your family farm, find Zach and go. Joel didn’t know June existed, so she was safe from his rampage… if you were lucky, your dad might be who Joel takes it out on. Joel had told you if you tried to run, Zach was the first person he’d go to… but you wondered if now that Tommy was gone, Joel might go to wherever the hell Tommy was first.

You loved Tommy, there were few people who you loved like Tommy… but you loved your child more, and you prayed that Joel would go to Tommy first, buying you and Zach some time.

As you ran through the woods, your thoughts were scurried, desperately trying to find the barn in the darkness; there were few stars and no moon, and you had never been taught a sense of direction… You weren’t sure how to get to your family farm, but Christ, you were running for your life right now. 

SMACK! You ran into a tree, no doubt adding to the horrific bruises on your face as is, but that's nothing compared to the horror of Nick’s skeleton under your body. You barely manage to cover your mouth from the scream as you fall backwards and scramble, trying desperately to get away.

As you run into a pair of legs, a hand covers your mouth this time and you scream, loud.

You are turned around and are suddenly face to face with Jack.

“Jesus fucking christ!” He whisper-shouts. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

You immediately begin begging. “Please! Please don’t tell Joel, I’ll go back! Please Jack he’ll fucking kill me, he’ll kill my baby please don’t tell-”

“Shut up!” He hisses, standing up from his crouched position to run his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCK!” Jack begins pacing, considering his course of action. “We’re going back to the house.”

You nod obediently.  You could figure out how to escape later, right now you needed Jack to keep a secret. You’d do whatever you needed to.

“Please don’t tell him, please” You sit up on your knees, wobbling with the belly but giving your best attempt to look pretty. “I’ll do whatever you want.” You’d suck him off, he could fuck your ass

“Jesus Christ, he’s got you fucked up.” Jack turns out, groaning, before helping you stand. “Get up, we gotta talk to Lorenzo, he’ll… fuck he’ll figure something out.”

Jack started walking, and you hesitated… you aren’t sure of you can trust him… but damn if you don’t have any other options. You look back and into the woods, debating your choices.. When you see a glint of silver in the grass near the skeleton.

A jackknife, the one Joel used to skin and castrate nick. You had no weapons… so you took it. It had a smooth wood handle with an ivory inlay, with a blunted out edge… the button struck a little as you practiced switching it in and out.

Not hearing your footsteps on the leaves, Jack turns around and urges you on.

He instructed you to stay put on the side of the house. He said Joel isn’t due back for a few hours, but just in case. Not long after, a stumbling and swearing Lorenzo is walking outside under Jack’s support.

“Of all the fucking times you wanna leave, you had to chose when I’m barely alive, huh?”

“I’m so-”

He holds up a hand. “Stahp.” His boston accent was thick with irritation and pain. “I’m just fucking with yuh, kid. Let’s get you to Tommy.” He began to walk, with Jack’s help, to the barn. 

“But Zach-”

“Tommy is closer. I know where Zach was gonna take you, I’ll give Tommy the instructions.” He turned to Jack. “You need to go. Joel is gonna kill you if she and I left on your patrol.”

Jack shakes his head. “No, I don’t think he’d”

You spoke up. “He would. He told me he… he knows you and Tommy still talk. He doesn’ trust you.”

Jack groans again, rubbing his face.

Lorenzo continues. “Swing by and get Maura, anyone in proximity to this is in danger.”

“Fine, fine. Meeting in Boston?”

“Rapid City, we’re not there in 4 days, keep going. You know the plan once you get to Boston.”

You turned to Lorenzo. “Zach, Joel said-”

“Relax, sweetheart. Jack and I’ve had an escape plan ready to go just in case, and that involves your brother.”

The plan was for Jack to go to the farm and get Zach… if all went well, you’d meet up in Boston. There they’d find a friend of one of Lorenzo’s sisters, Tess, and she’d help you… You weren’t entirely sure about all of this, but Renzo would bring you to Tommy… Tommy would keep you safe.

Lorenzo wasted no time. He saddled up quickly and he and Jack helped you on the horse. You thanked Jack as he and Lorenzo hugged goodbye, and Lorenzo took off galloping for as long as his wounded body could take. He slowed down after half an hour, his weakening body slumping up against yours, telling you how to get to Jackson and what to tell Tommy should he fall over… If Lorenzo passed out and off the horse, there was no way to get him up in your condition… 

Somewhere along the lines, you  found yourself apologizing, apologizing for causing so much trouble, uprooting his life, uprooting all their lives, Tommy’s happy life in Jackson…

“Sweetheart, knock it off, I mean it.” He said in that harsh but loving tone. “Joel… he said you were nothing, that you were nothing to Tommy but that’s not true. I love you, Zach loves you, and Tommy absolutely loves you. We are doing this to give you and that baby a chance at survival.”

You continued into the night, until a group of men on horses approached with dogs.

“Lorenzo Alverano!” He shouted, and the men looked at each other. Quickly, you and Lorenzo were sniffed out for infection and hurried off into the city limits and brought to where you sound found out was Maria and Tommy’s home, the men banging on the doors.

It was Tommy who answered. 

You didn’t look like yourself at all.

Even under the dim porchlight, Tommy could see the expanse of bruises and scratches on your face, your black eye, the hanging and strangulation marks and rope burn, the busted lip, the considerable amount of fat you’d lost… and of course, your 8 month round belly.

“Oh honey…” Tommy murmured before rushing to take you in his arms. “What did he do to you?”

You cried heavily in his arms as he guided you inside where another woman watched, questioning Lorenzo on the situation at hand. You were introduced to her, Maria, and although she was straight to business, you didn’t feel unwelcomed. Tommy would care for your emotional needs, Maria was planning your escape.

It was decided when she spoke. “Lorenzo, you’ll never make it to Casper the way you are, you’re staying here.” She turns to Tommy. “Take one of the travel bags and go.”

“Maria. ” You didn’t know if he was going to protest or what, but Maria stopped him short.

“Go. She needs you.” She looked… Sad, almost, as she turned to the men. “Get Lorenzo to a safehouse with a medic.” Back to Tommy. “You, get the horse and the bag and go. There isn't much time, Joel is gonna come barreling and we need to prove you’re gone.” 

Back and forth, Tommy looked at you, then Maria, then you, then Maria… before standing up. “Okay.” and he headed out the door in a hurry.

Maria looked at you sympathetically. “Do you remember me?”

You tried to think… she looked familiar but- oh. “The first day.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Joel… I wanted to stop him, but I was trying to broker a deal to keep Jackson out of his grasp and…” Maria shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m honestly amazed you lived, knowing Joel.”

“Yeah.” You huff out. “Me too.”

“Tommy’ll get you to Boston, get you safe, take care of you…” She looked sadder, the more she talked…

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t help but over apologize, it was ingrained in you now. “But once my babies safe, I’ll leave you and Tommy alone. He’ll be back and you’ll never hear from me again.”

She didn’t look like she believed you. “Sure. He’ll be back…” did she believe herself?

Despite Maria and Tommy’s insistence to hurry, they took their time saying goodbye, Maria grasping tightly to his body.

“I’ll be back, Maria. I swear. Get through the winter and I’ll be back first thaw, okay?”

Maria didn’t sound like she believed Tommy either.

One hand was around you, holding you tightly to him while the other guided the horse, urging it on to run as much as it could… you needed distance, as Joel likely already returned to the house and discovered you were missing by now.

It was a long while before he spoke.

“What did he do to you, honey?” It was that soft, low, ever-calming tone he used on you that never failed to make you felt into him… “How did this happen…”

You couldn’t help but tell him the story of the last 8 months since he’s been gone. The pregnancy, Lorenzo, the freedom, and exhausting housekeeping with a giant belly… How Joel began to see you as his wife, his maid, a person to make babies and clean the house… not as a person like you had thought.

Finally, you told him how Joel beat the ever-living fuck out of you, how he hung you from the tree and left you for dead… and how you called for him in your hysteria. 

Tommy rested his head on yours, taking in the smell of your hair as he apologized for not being there for you.

When it was clear you weren’t getting much further, Tommy guided the horse to an old abandoned house he knew off in the woods. Tommy knew this area well, having made this trip many times throughout the years. The sleeping bag you were sent off with was intended to be shared between two people for body heat, but not necessarily a heavily pregnant person… the fit was tight, but nonetheless 

you were comfortable in his arms. You were always comfortable in his arms.

“I’m glad you’re here, Tommy.” You spoke softly, drifting off to sleep.

“I am too, honey.” Tommy kissed the side of your face, and as the tiniest peak of light shown through the horizon, Tommy and you drifted off to the small amount of sleep you could before continuing on your journey to Boston, to start a new life.

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

CW For a bomb threat on kids between the *******'s

*********************I work at a day care, it's week 2, and between waking up from nap and snack time we received a bomb threat. Our building evacuated around 100 kids to a nearby church. People where there to set up a anniversary party and were incredibly kind. They set up a tv for the kids to watch a movie, brought out water and crackers for our poor kids who didn't get their snack, and tissues for the teachers who were crying. its me i was teachers. I did great getting the kids to safety butt as soon as the action ended i was a mess. not long after a bunch of people arrived. My day care does child care for workers at the nearby hospital we are a part of so pretty soon lots of people where there including the hospital president, HR, and on sight counseling which I took part in. Turns out it was a middle school pulling a "prank". Law enforcement said they have never seen a building full of children evacuated that quickly and safely. Several of us are new. **************

this being said... I am exhausted. I cried a lot and my anxiety drained me... but I wrote this chapter bc writing helps me cope. So.... it's not my best writing but that's okay.

chapter 10 will probably take a while to see, because I need it to be perfect, absolutely perfect for you guys because you all deserve it. You maaaaaayyy just a small drabble bc there was a scene i wanted to include but it just didn't fit!

I go on a trip next week where I'll finally get to see Matchbx 20 who ive had tickets for since 2020 but covid ruined it lol...

I'm also working on a joel one shot for ya'll

anyway thak you all so so so much for your continued support!!!!! I love you all very very much

Reblogs are the best way to spread and support, but comments mean the world. I know not everyone likes to share dark content on their blog, but even a kind anon is such support!

Anyone got any guesses for the grand finale? I would looooove to hear some theories!!!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @tidlewav3 @bunnnyy-dummy @slutfortimotheechalamet @foggymoonbanana @dinsbaby @miraclesabound @jenna-ortega @primosworld @marclovers @threeheadedlamb @secretwriterpp @the-fox-den

@bitchyglitterfox @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@lunar-ghoulie @pedritosdarling @dreamonseems @alwaysdjarin @amoramorquetepintas @milla-frenchy

[acourtofthought]

Feyre and Nesta hated how their father handled things and because of that they did not have much love for their father who was not a "fighter". As a result they chose his opposite when it came to who they ended up with, they chose two impressive warriors.

"How you were treated by your father as you were growing up helps shape your view of men in general and what you expect of them"

Compared to her sisters, Elain did love her father and it seems his gentle nature was something she latched on to.

"he was smiling mildly at his beloved Elain, the only one of us who bothered to really speak to him at all."

My father smiled freely, laughed readily, and doted on Elain, who in turn doted on him.

My father murmured his praises to Elain, who beamed at him and rested her head on his shoulder.

When depressed her father turned inward and shut down, not entirely different from how both Elain and Lucien have processed their past traumas though I will say Lucien definitely does not like to sit idle.

When happy, Elain's father smiled freely and laughed readily (similar to the Lucien we saw in book 1 and the Lucien we got hints of once he left Spring - he's not fully himself yet but it's easy to see who he is when not dealing with the all the heaviness).

And her father was business savvy to a certain extent:

I spied my father hunched over his desk, a little scale before him as he weighed an uncut ruby the size of a duck’s egg. He was clear-eyed again, and moved with a sense of purpose, of vibrancy, that I hadn’t seen since before the downfall.

“I’m thinking of buying the Beddor land,” my father was saying to Elain, who was the only one of us listening to him. “I heard a rumor it’ll go up for sale soon, since none of the family survived, and it would be a good investment property. Perhaps one of you girls might build a house on it when you’re ready.” Elain nodded interestedly,

The only reason his hand was forced with the three ships at the start of the series was because of bad deals made by the three generations before him.

Elain never seemed to care that he did not fight for them in the cottage, seemed to hang on to his words when he spoke of business deals and only ever seemed to desire his affection. To her, that was enough.

So it's worth paying attention to how SJM made sure to continue drawing even more parallels between Lucien and Papa Archeron:

Elain's first real love (her father), the man she held in high regard, and her mate share a way with words and intelligence.

And just as her father was very open with his affection and praise for Elain, SJM has written Lucien to share that characteristic as well. He was soothing and comforting with Feyre when he thought she had a nightmare and is complimentary of his female friends, always speaking highly of them.

I like how she's basically taken Elain and said, "I see your stubbornness when it comes to the mating bond but I'm going to literally make it impossible for you to not fall for Lucien in the end because I'm going to write him to be everything you respect and desire AND he's going to share a bond with the first man you ever loved."

That last part is huge because Elain can't talk to anyone else about her father without it bringing up negative emotions for them.

In Lucien (and even Vassa), SJM has given Elain another person who she can fondly remember her father with as they too share in those similar memories.

This post was inspired by @lorcanisdabest recent post:

[hawnks]

OH ACTUALLY i have strong feelings about "should we kill these people?" and what it meant for geto

when they first see each other, geto is like "i survived, shoko fixed me up. but that doesn't matter." and he looks at the dead riko

but THEN. THEN. gojo says something to the effect of "this isn't your fault/i was the one who messed up".

and it's like... uh. gojo. no. of course this is geto's fault? he also messed up? BOTH of them were supposed to protect riko. it's not like geto wasn't there, he just let his guard down (like gojo did when toji first stabbed him... literally minutes ago).

when gojo says this he's thinking about his power-up and how he's finally grasped reverse curse technique and he's basically high on power.

but to geto, he thought his best friend was MURDERED and riko got SHOT IN FRONT OF HIM and then he was left half-dead and spared, on purpose, when gojo and riko were both killed.

and now gojo is acting like it was all on him. like geto isn't even worth holding responsible for this, like it wouldn't make a difference if geto was stronger; gojo was the one who should have been stronger.

then gojo asks if they should just kill these people. geto must have realized just how vastly different the two of them had become. their friendship never recovered from that moment.

Gojo really fucked up when it came to Getou, and I think that’s part of the reason why it haunts him so much, why he’s never been able to move past it, or even leave the highschool.

I think you’re right about him treating Getou as like…. less important? Less relevant? For Getou this was THEE moment of his life, the culmination of SOMETHING he hasn’t quite figured out yet coming fresh off it. It throws him into severe depression, and Gojo just kind of — leaves him behind. Gojo is affected by the Riko situation, but overall it was a net positive for him. He got his unmatched power. He won. And he goes on acting like it.

But Getou lost everything that day.

Also Gojo being the strongest and yet still considering killing those people; what was Getou (as less than the strongest) supposed to do? If even God’s Disciple can’t withstand the pressure of the sorcerer world, how was he supposed to?

[theosconfessions]

The Miscellaneous questions for River and his man/child, i mean husband.

i actually loled haha!! thank you for asking, love.

MISCELLANEOUS: Is money a problem? River: its not. i think we're lucky that blake got drafted and makes a good amount of money playing football. we literally got married while we were still in high school and a good majority of kids that do that are NOT in the same position we're in right now.

How many cars do they own?

Blake: we own two. one for riv to take the kids around when im not home and one for me to take to practice/games all that stuff.

Do they own their home or do they rent?

Blake: DUDEEEE if my apartment couldve magically grown with every kid we had ..then i would still be renting. good memories in that place

River: better memories in a place where we actually have room for kids..and me.

Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside?

Blake: we're balls deep in suburbia right now. his parents live out in the country and FUCK I WANT IT SO BAD.

Do they live in the city or in the country?

River: suburbs ..for now.

Do they enjoy their surroundings? River: i was fucking DYING in that apartment. i think having the house kinda gives me space so i dont really necessarily feel like im suffocating.

Blake: you feel like your suffocating?

River: in your man cave apartment i did yeah.

What’s their song? Blake: i gotta do it' so high school'-taylor swift

What do they do when they’re away from each other? River: we dont constantly text eachother but little pics through the day i think. gives us time to be you know separate people and lets us enjoy whatever we're doing at the moment without being glued to our phone all the time.

Blake: i demand sexy riv pics every night im away [smirks]

River: demands a strong word.

Blake: you know what i mean. i APPRECIATE sexy riv pics every night.

River: dude. looking like a douchebag.

Where did they first meet? Blake: we went to school together [smirks] friends first.

How did they first meet? Blake: we were in the same gym class and he fucking PELTED me with a dodgeball man. love at first sight. for me.

Who spends the most money when out shopping? Blake : *points to riv*

River: treats.

Who’s more likely to flash their assets? River: oh my god blake. he does it during games. FINED ALL OF THE TIME.

Blake: worth it [smirks]

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? River: me. hes not coordinated at all. youd think he would be but....

Any mental issues? Blake: oh god yeah. i mean...

River: i have depression. the past years been kinda.. i dont know. but i am doing better. im getting better

Blake: my boy.

Who’s terrified of bugs? River: i think both of us? fuck that shit.

Who kills the spiders around the house? Blake: Nellie

River: definitely Nellie.

Their favourite place? Blake: [smirks] theres this little ranch up in chestnut ridge. i love taking him there. just me him. no kids.

River:thats a good place [smirks]

Who pays the bills? Blake [raises hand] and proud of that shit

Do they have any fears for their future? River: i think that...we went through a lot of rough stuff in our separation and i just..do not want to go through that again. i think we're on a good path right now and i want to stay on that path

Blake: i think what riv said yeah. the last thing we both wanted when we were having problems was a divorce. and its something i do not want. i guess thats my fear for my future. i just wanna be good for him. i know i wasnt in the past.im trying to be now.

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Blake: me for SURE.

Who uses up all of the hot water? Blake: again me for SURE. but he can crash the shower whenever

River: me time,babe.

Who’s the tallest? Blake: me. rivers a short shit.

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? River:thats definitely blake. i LOVE showering alone but hey.

Blake: wont turn down that DICK.

River: gross.

Who wanders around in their underwear? River: [points to blake] he hasnt learned.

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Blake: River for sure.he has a pretty voice though. love to hear that shit.

What do they tease each other about? River: i like to tease him over how much of a pussy he was for me back in our first starting dating days

Blake: i cried after we fucked for the first time. for real. and id do it again.

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? River: me. blakes taste is .....

Do they have mutual friends? River: not anymore.

Who crushed first? Blake: oh me for sure. unless riv is about to say something i didnt know

River: i never really considered that AT ALL until you kissed me that one day. you werent on my radar at all i was so into my girlfriend at the time

Blake:until ....

Any alcohol or substance related problems? River: no we both quit that stuff when teddie came along.

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? Blake: we are good boys [smirks]

Who swears the most?

River: i think me and its purely because of my dads influence i swear to god.