#when they realize that the old relationship they had with that easy trust is gone forever. love isn't enough to bring that back

[lgbtlunaverse]

I don't think we talk about xiyao exes to lovers enough. I understand that in canon the "breakup" ended with death and imo it was never going to end any other way (I have a lot of feelings about how jgy is doomed from the start) but even in aus where survival is an option I barely ever see their full potential realized. The fact that there is this heartbreaking gap that is between them now, and yet that, despite it all, they can't stop loving each other. When you have drama this good, why is the conflict relegated to outside threats and we end up with little to no exploration of internal strife, of the fact that these guys have been living a domestic lie for a decade (I cannot stress this enough, the amount of parralels between xiyao and jgy's marriage to qin su are staggering.)

And let me be clear I will NEVER begrudge anyone their hurt/comfort and wanting their faves who are denied happiness and peace at every turn to find it. god knows I need that sometimes. Or even the less healthy but so emotionally devastating fics where the caring isn't good, and it doesn't fix anything- might only make things worse, actually- and xichen ends up recreating his father's fate. I love all of those things. But. Man. This divorce was over 11 years in the making it should take AT LEAST that long to resolve. What do you do when the person you trusted the most lied to you for years? What do you do when the only person who's ever believed in you loses that faith so completely they'd hurt you over a lie without hesitation? I need me some xiyao who try to get over each other for 20 years and fail. I need them to meet after not seeing each other for years and have it hurt like no time has passed at all. I need arguments where no one raises their voice but that feel like a screaming match anyway. Do you see my vision?? Do you see what we could have?

(if fics that do exacly this are out there, recs are of course welcome)

[plantsarepeopletoo]

A defense of Last Twilight ep12

I guess I'll start with things from mostly before this episode. Day's Mom and Night, and how they act with Day.

Night. Day was scared, upset, and wanted to lash out for Night "ruining his life". Day didn't want to take any blame for the accident, because that would be just too much. It is easy to blame Night for the loss of his eyesight. Even so, I do think Day missed having his older brother, as he said in ep12, he never truly wished that Night wasn’t his older brother. Day just needed to realize that his life was not over, he was not completely stripped of everything that made him, *him*. Mhok helped Day gain confidence and hope, which let him finally loosen that knot and forgive Night. 

Day's Mom. This one was harder, because at first I thought she went over the top and freaked out too much. She was gone all the time, probably since the beginning, trusting Night, who was old enough to remember his dad, to take care of his younger brother Day. So from the start, she probably babied Day and treated Night as someone who could take care of himself.

Going off that, she saw Mhok as someone who wouldn't be able to provide for himself, much less Day. He's a violent criminal, of course it'll be hard for him to find a job. He cannot be Day's caretaker forever, Day won't need it, and then what? So she did what she thought she had to, separate Day and Mhok. But as soon as Mhok showed he could get his own job she started to warm up to Mhok. Do I think her knee jerk reaction to lock up Day so he was safe is right? No. But do I understand it? Yes. I don't think it caused trauma, I think Day understood. He had hope that his mom would see him as normal one day. It was a slow journey, but I think she finally did.

Day's mom was so hyper focused on Day that she forgot Night, who has been stuck in the middle, trying to do right by Day while dealing with his own guilt and fear that maybe his mom hated him too. I couldn't imagine the pain was feeling when Night tried to excuse himself from the table. He probably thought he was surrounded by people who didn't want to be around him. That meal was the beginning of the family finally healing over their trauma. Night needed his mom's love just as much as he needed Day to forgive him.

In short: I think Day's family did heal, they did adjust and learn how to love each other again.

Ok onto The surgeries and second chances.

The show is a fairy tale. It's been a fairy tale since the beginning with Mhok and Day being The little prince and the fox. Day starts to learn how to trust and how to hope. He slowly builds up trust and confidence in himself. Only for it to be torn down and he has to start again and again and again.

The show is also a fairy tale like the book Last Twilight. Day's eyesight is a metaphor like the light that Me chases in the book. Yes, it's just his eyesight like Mhok says in ep12, but it's also hope. The first time it bloomed was when Day was brave enough to make his way to Mhok's work by himself. He had just had that healing dinner with his family, and now he's with his boyfriend and everything feels so right.

But it doesn't work. Mhok is still too fearful, and it makes sense he's too scared. Day's worst fear is that people pity him and treat him differently. Mhok's worst fear is his loved ones being taken away from him and he doesn't trust Day can live on his own yet, as we see when they go on vacation. Mhok’s fear makes him lose opportunities as all his attention and concern was on Day, to the detriment of himself. Mhok’s fear only hurts them, and will continue to hurt them. They need to live and grow, Day needs to live without Mhok's support and Mhok needs to see that Day can thrive without his support.

So the first surgery didn't work because in their fairy tale, it wasn't right. Day’s hope was false, but their relationship was not in vain. (I do want to say I really really appreciated that they said that this rarely happened IRL, they didn't use this to strip hope away from real people waiting for this surgery.)

The second chance. So Mhok goes away, they learn and grow and thrive. They live their lives but they do this apart, rather than, as their mother hoped, together. This seems like something they both needed to work through, being alone, before they can be together. I know people don't like time skips but honestly, it's a storytelling device that works here. We get to see the outcome of their endeavors. Mhok is a respected cook and starts making his own recipes. Emotionally he’s matured to the point where he realizes he was treating Day with pity, even if it was because of his sister’s death. Day on the other hand, has graduated, written a book, and is working for a bookstore (owns a bookstore?). The time apart is for them to grow up, and they did. Do I think we need a long sad story to make it all “worth it”, not really, not here. It’s like Day and Night fixing their relationship was such a quiet scene. We know they lived because we see the outcome, it doesn’t need to be sad. All I feel that I am deprived of is Night and Porjai's story (I demand First Dawn! Give me a spin off!). 

Mhok tried to contact Day, realized he was blocked, and probably kept trying. What we do know is his love for Day is constant, but honestly, I don’t think he had the courage to do anything until he saw Day on the escalator. All those feelings felt fresh. Later, I don't think he knew what he wanted to do until he saw Day at the bookstore and Day recognized the perfume. If he had any lingering fears, then the difference between the Day in the library at the beginning of the series and the Day now working at a bookstore for the blind was (i'm sorry) night and day. Mhok still wants to make Day's life easier, but also can see clearly that Day is ok. He is thriving.

Now all that’s left is for Day to accept that Mhok see’s him as he is, without pity, he hesitates a lot in this episode, partly, I think, because Mhok is still treating him the same, holding his arm and pulling out his chair. Does Mhok still see him as less than capable? He doesn’t want to be something Mhok will regret. Day is told by his mom that “This is what normal love looks like,” because she knows her son is still afraid that Mhok’s love isn’t “normal”, he doesn’t want to be someone's burden, he wants to be their freedom, his mum can see this, and she knows how far they’ve come. She gives him the final push he needs to accept that his fears are real, but they are also false, that doubting your worthiness as a partner is the most normal thing of all. Day finally chooses to let go of his own fears, and let them have the second chance. And finally hope actually blooms and Day gets his eyesight.

I do not want to say that anyone's lack of hope or faith or anything is what is keeping them from a successful surgery. I am not blaming Day. Day was ok before getting his eyesight, he is ok after, but he got what he wanted and has grown and overcome so many obstacles. His story isn’t worthless, he has learned so much. Day getting his eyesight is also giving hope to real people who are on that list. Day getting his eyesight back is a nice thing, a bonus, but not necessary to Day living happily ever after. I'm just saying, within this fairy tale, you can see Day’s chances at getting his eyesight back as a manifestation of Day’s hope. 

When we first met Day, even though he had a curable condition, had given up all hope that he’d ever get a transplant. He was angry, bitter, and a mess. We saw him overcome his own fears, gain skills, and experience the world in a different way. We saw him pick himself back up over and over. Day isn’t the same person, with sight or without.

The story is saying hope is something worth chasing after.

Be like Me and keep going, good things will come, even if it's not what you had planned. Even if your life seems like it's been burned to the ground. Keep running after that light, because even if it doesn’t lead you to where you think it’ll go, because life is still worth experiencing.

thank you @rocketturtle4 for the editing

[tavshortfortavern]

Omega (+Alpha) HCs Part 2

Characters: Astarion, Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Laezel

Astarion: Has used his omega status to manipulate people and lure them into a false sense of security. He's just a 'dainty omega' what could he do? Of course they usually end up dead and drained of blood. Fully weaponizes it to his advantage. Deep down he hates having to act like this having been truly helpless before. Definitely got targeted by his old master for being a well known omega highly saught after. He hides being an omega from the party as well as his vampirism so he doesn't get left behind for being 'too soft' or useless. That or be forced into something by alphas who think they can do whatever they want (like his old master). When he meets Alpha Tav he definitely keeps his scent hidden, its easy being undead. But when that secret is discovered he's desperate enough to try and seduce them for protection, even if it disgusts him.

Of course Tav doesn't mind at all and other people in camp are omegas so he doesn't stand out. A huge wave of relief washes over him. His attempts at seduction doesn't work either as Tav has chugged their Respect Omega juice. They do stare at him, he can see the attraction in their eyes but as soon as he catches them, they turn their eyes away like some gods damn altar boy or clergyman. Once that trust is established, he'll keep pressing his flirtations, watching for reactions and wondering when they'll break. Otherwise he stays away from most alphas.

For his heats, they've been terrible experiences for him and probably won't let anyone near him during them until he's processed his trauma. But he trusts Tav more than anyone so he might let them be nearby, not touching or even being intimate but a reassurance they will be around to defend or bring him anything. His nests in the past being under Cazador have been pathetic, with only a ragged blanket and pillow, if he was even allowed those. So when Tav offers to set aside some gold for his nest he's struck with the realization he can build a comfortable nest. It's like his tent at camp, he splurges for fancy throw pillows and blankets, has some scentes candles for ambiance. Wants it somewhere with access to sunlight. It soothes some of his negative feelings during heat. But his nest isn't done yet. A true Rogue, he steals articles of clothings and trinkets from the companions he knows has their scent because it makes him feel safe. Never says anything and will let the companions wonder where certain things have gone while he snuggles in his tent, almost buried under all the items and scents of those he trusts. A far cry from his old nest.

Gale: The real stay-at-home omega. Mans was destined for that. All he wants is to be back in his tower with his cat and books. Now after meeting Tav wants to take them home and cook them something. Never hid being an omega, doesn't see why he ever would. His time with Mystra didn't leave him a lot of time to deal with physical needs and instincts so no scenting or mating bites for him. He waves it off but when he is in a relationship with Tav he's come to prize the mating bite on his neck, kinda showing it off with some outfits that have lower necklines. And look. We all heard that little 'musk' line from Gale. He's quickly getting addicted to Tav's scent. Holds himself back but wants it all over him.

Back in his tower, he had a lovely nest with silken fabrics and fluffy pillows. A perfect soft haven with tons of trinkets he treasures. Theres not much in the way of scented items, only Tara's. Mystra obviously never bothered. But in camp, while the nest isn't as luxurious or expansive, he actually might prefer it over his old one. Unlike a certain someone he asks the companions, rather awkwardly, for anything they could part with for his nest. (ITS PACK BONDING BABY) Wyll's handkerchief, Shadowheart's hair tie, one of Halsin's arm bands, even Astarion left a scarf there (without saying anything bc its too sappy). Gith don't have alphas or omegas but Laezel saw everyone do it and just handed him a dagger, he could use it anyways being a squishy wizard (she a little confused but she got the spirit!) Tav's scent is the strongest one there having spent nights cuddling.

Its the most relaxing thing to snuggle into being surrounded by scents that weren't present before in his life, now he doesn't imagine he can go back without it. During his heats, before he's always waited for them to pass, now he has Tav there and he feels nervous. He's always been a giver so he tries to focus on Tav over his own heat despite his instincts. Tav reminds him that this is about him and him alone as they set him back down in the nest. Gale discovers Tav is also quite talented with his mouth. Scent-wise like most wizards the smell of parchment and leather is there but with something citrus-y and jasmine thats unique to him.

Wyll: Either an Alpha or Beta. Also drinks his respect omega juice. A gentleman to everyone and flirts with anyone who catches his eyes no matter their status or if they have one (Laezel). He was always taught by his dad that alphas were not inherently superior but still had a responsibility to protect those being taken advantage of, everyone is vulnerable to heats/ruts. Even after he got exiled he held on to those principles. Will absolutely beat up Alphas who try to take advantage of an omega in heat or those just generally using their status to do what they want.

If Tav was an omega or alpha, it doesn't change the way he wants to court them first. Ruts are always kept private if he doesn't have access to rut blocker potions and he excuses himself to his tent. He's been saught after plenty of times from omegas and betas from noble families. Is rather wary of letting anyone near in this state. But he trusts Tav to be nearby. Still full on prince charming level of courtship. Will take the lead in a dance unless they say anything. Admires Tav not for being an alpha but for being a good leader and helping other people. He would be a good mediator as a beta for everyone in camp.

Is happy to lend his omega friends a scented item for their nests. Polite and considerate to those in their heat too. Keeps his distance since he knows omega companions might be wary/emberassed to be in heat near an alpha. Deeper in the relationship Tav is heavily scented by him, it always brings a smile to his face whenever his nose catches it. The first time Tav does help him with his rut he always checks in with them. When Tav leaves the tent its with a new mating bite. His scent is probably earthen, from all his time spent traveling, also aromatic and similar to wine. Since becoming a warlock he has hint of the hells on him.

Karlach: Alpha. Hands down. Protector of omegas. The stereotypical strong alpha type but never has the toxic or negative behaviors. Likes omegas since they rarely appear in the hells and she likes how calming they are for her fiery rages. Just a whiff of her omega companions scents sets her at ease. Her rut is a terrible experience though, since her engine kinda fucked it up and also she couldn't touch anybody. She had no one for years while in Avernus.

Pack bonds hella quick to the Tadfools. While alphas don't have nests she does love keeping scented items of her friends nearby. Its a calming effect and a reminder she's no longer in hell. Heck she has a whole world of scents to explore and familiarize again after returning. Is eager to spend her rut with Tav if they're together once her engine gets upgraded. Tries her best but ends up being somewhat rough, gets kinda feral (ten years bruh, ten years of bad lonely ruts) and leaves her partner exhausted in the mornings (if they're both not still going at it).

Sadly, does not give them a mating bite for fear she could end up dying from her engine. Doesn't want to tie them down if her death is certain. In her eyes they're the loveliest mate anyone could ask for, she doesn't want to keep them to herself. But when they go with her to Avernus she will definitely stake her claim with her scent and bite mark. Can't have these devils thinking Tav is anyone's but hers. Under that heavy smell of sulphur, smoke, and metal, her scent is fresh as the ocean, floral and fragrant woods.

Shadowheart: Beta or omega. As an omega, only hides her type when necessary if she thinks it would pose an issue. Being under Shar meant secrecy and that meant lots of scent blockers. Nobody even knew her type until later on while in the Shadow curse. Being an omega doesn't stop her from becoming a dark justiciar. Nor does she like using it to her advantage.

Smells like incense, sweet tropical flowers and something subtle. Is wary around an alpha Tav but not as much when they take the time to save her while in the Mindflayer ship. Appreciates it when they don't fuss about her being an omega or change how they think of her. That gets more respect from her than just being an alpha. Keeps a simple nest in her tent. Has the night orchid Tav gave her and once the other omegas began piling everyone's scents in their nest, she does the same

With no memories the only thing she has ties to her past is scents. She could catch the scent of something and suddenly feel a sense of deja vu. Its why she loves night orchids so much. The smell gives her a warm feeling of... Something. Has never spent her heat with anyone, always taught to keep them private and secluded. Once she leaves Shar, she discovers she likes spending it with Tav and mixing scents. Fully believes if she ever loses her memories again, Tav's sent will always be the thing she remembers.

Laezel: Gith aren't born as alphas, betas or omegas. While she's heard about these instincts she's never seen them in real life. So she's clueless to all these courting rituals and practices. Why do you need nests to be comfy? Why are these scents so important? Are you even fit to fight during a heat/rut. Can be offensive but she ends up being better later on. It's just as confusing and foreign as the rest of Faerun.

Understands the whole mating thing though. Of course you want a strong mate. Very much the let the instincts take over type. But what decides who submits or dominates is through battle, not scent. Doesn't matter if you're an omega, beat her in combat or she'll top you. When together with Tav encourages heats or ruts. She can handle all that.

While she doesn't fully understand certain behaviors, she does end up caring for her companions. Doesn't bodyguard or coddle them, they're strong and can sort any disrespectful sort by themselves. She is willing to hand them weapons if they want something with her scent. That's always useful, especially if you want to feel safe.

[eletricheart]

The five stages

(Mother Miranda x Reader)

*image creds to the owner

Word count: 653

I had Lover by Taylor Swift in my head all day long, so this story was mostly a mix of lover with the five stages of grief. This mix is what I believe to be how Miranda would view a love interest.

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Denial

Mother Miranda was mostly a factual person, always choosing the logical option, never allowing herself to have emotions nor getting distracted.

That's why, when she met you, the scientist initially believed you were a spy, sent to distract her. Of course, her theories only got stronger as you would follow her around, always paying attention with a stupid smile on your face.

Miranda considered killing you, it should be easy considering how you went with her to the underground lab…alone. The priestess thought it was all a trick, you couldn't possibly trust her that blindly, you couldn't mean all the compliments, you couldn't blush every time she looked, you couldn't laugh at the things she said, you just couldn't be you.

Anger

Miranda didn't kill you, in fact she explained all of her work, her creations, her failures, everything.

She expected you to run, to scream and call her a monster…but you didn't. You just nodded and paid attention as if the woman was telling you the secrets of the universe.

Miranda wanted to hate you. When she pushed you out of her lab, she thought of hating you.

As she broke the chairs and ripped the papers, the woman realized why she couldn't hate you.

Bargaining

Miranda ignored you for a while, diving deep into her experiments in order to forget the storm inside. But not even the hardest of equations was enough to erase you, so she tried to think logically.

The priestess had a goal, she needed her daughter and clearly your presence was disturbing. Therefore, the woman went to your house to offer you a deal, all you had to do was leave.

You never denied the Goddess, even if her wishes broke your heart, after all it was hers to do as she wants. You obviously left, but not before leaving your number with her, just in case.

Miranda should be relieved, she found the answer to her problems, so why did it hurt so much.

Depression

With you gone it was as if a dark cloud had been established at the village.

Miranda continued her obligations, to the public eye she was perfect, a true Goddess. But in private, her kitchen became a forbidden room, the woman wouldn't get close to the door, not wanting to hear the ghost sound of your laughter. Her experiments were put on hold, using all of her energies to research instead of a practical approach.

Miranda considered calling you many times, but these situations would usually end in laying on the bed throughout the day or murdering the lycans nearby.

What made her call was the memory of a rainy day. It was during the days Miranda ignored you, without telling why. So, you did the most reasonable action in your mind, you sang Taylor Swift under her window with a guitar in the rain…that was the first time she blushed.

Acceptance

Miranda was hesitant with your return, but would never admit it was simply the fear of rejection. However, you saw her as an old friend, smiling and telling stories as if nothing happened.

It took the priestess two months to start courting you. The woman would constantly bring you gifts, most being shiny objects or rocks.

You weren't stupid, you noticed ever since she threw you off her lab. So, you decided to do the same, except that your presents were flowers and baked goods.

By the end of the year, your relationship (in Miranda's view) had gone from possible enemies to lovers. But, the only person who knew was Donna who had the unfortunate encounter with you and Angie attempted to kidnap you…it was very hard to convince Miranda to not burn the doll.

But setting accidents apart, all was well as long as you two were together. You may have known each other for only one summer, but it was clear you would have them all.

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masterlist

[jaymber]

Chippin' In

Timeline 20151 - Protagonist : V Temarii

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Finding the enigmantic "Ebunike" had been an easy task. Dealing with Grayson, an easier one. A single bullet to the head. V didn't think twice, the second his hand connected with the Malorian Arms, he just knew what he had to do. They left the docks for the oil fields in Johnny's Porsche, that had, just like the gun, seemingly called them to it. V could feel Johnny's emotions as if they were his own. The turmoil of excitement and nervousness, like he wanted his host to drive even faster, and the car to stop right now, all at once. Finding his own body was both the closure he needed, and the reminder he was gone, no matter how alive he could feel. V scanned the perimeter of steel, flames of mud, but didn't find anything expect a few shards left behind by the long-gone workers. If Grayson hadn't lied, Johnny's body had either been moved, or sank so low in the bowels of the Earth it had hidden from the world. If the first option crossed Johnny's mind, he soundly, yet eerily, went for the second one. Letting go instead of blindly believing what he wanted to believe. V realized Johnny had changed, or tried to, at least. Burying his old self, again. The merc felt he was talking to Johnny, the real Johnny, for the first time since they met. "Managed one thing for now," the rockerboy eventually admitted, "Not fucked it up, what we have."

But he was, once again, believing what he wanted to believe. "Did you? Johnny, you tricked me. Used me like you did everyone else. It's like you don't even realize you're doing it anymore - pushing everyone away. You fucked it up. Really bad." "Didn't seem like you hated my living guts… until now." It wasn't reproach, it was guilt. It wasn't anger, it was the false idea their relationship couldn't be repaired. V started to wonder if his defensive act wasn't just a way to protect more brittle parts of himself. That, V could relate to. "I don't. Know I should, but… I- I just can't," he reassured, "Would be meeting Hanako by now if that was the case, not still going with your every whim." And maybe Johnny could feel V's emotions as well, his attachment to the engram he didn't want to regret. He sat down and asked: "Is it too late to ask for a second chance?"

"You can't be serious. Johnny, I gave every single gonk in this damned city a second chance. Same goes to you, but- Please, I need you to be honest with me. Don't care what I wanna hear, need to know I can trust you. Hell, I'll give you some leash way if- "Leeway," he corrected. "Uh-huh, that. Just- Don't ruin what we have, just cause you can." "I'll try damned hard." It felt honest. It was all V asked for.

"You got nothing to gain from running from destroying this." This. That something that made their heart beat in a fast, but pleasant pace. That made their eyes look for the other's, and anchored into them. That made their lips crook into smiles, despite everything. This, that unnamed relationship that made V feel like Johnny's hand looked lonely resting on the cold steel. "I know, V. I know."

"I just… don't get you sometimes," V admitted after a peaceful while. "It's okay, V. I was sort of a misunderstood genius, in my time." "Nah, I mean. I saw it, felt it. You liked being back. In control of everything. Could've just ran. Take the pills til I couldn't follow. Yet, here we are. Me - driving. You - on the backseat. Why?" "Eh, you know your way behind the wheel." "Johnny… Honesty. Remember?"

Johnny turned to him, with a quip on the tip of his tongue he swallowed back when he saw the look V had for him, the warmth V had for him. He stopped, and V felt himself take a big gulp of air suddenly. Johnny's eyes fell on his lips, and the same want reached their minds. Yet, Johnny still had to run his mouth. "Fuck, fine. Felt great, yeah. Better than ever. Johnny Silverhand, Rockerboy Legend, back in business! But, the longer I was myself, the more painful that... sharp something near my heart - our heart - got. Only got better when I felt you here, when this stupid wave of relief washed over me."

They kissed, and it already felt so natural. The same ease settled in their minds, the same wave of affection. A single kiss, despite them wanting more. Because they both weren't used to that kind of love. Something simple, and free. Something passionate, yet gentle. Something they truly wanted, instead of pretending to. "Know what you mean," V admitted, "This. Now. World's fucked up. I'm fucked up and you're even worse. And yet… Feels like I finally found a place where I belong when you're around, found a home."

"This can't be good," Johnny said, halfway between amusement and worry. "Dunno, maybe it is. I don't wanna think about it too hard - wanna enjoy the feeling while it lasts." "Same here."

"So, about that second chance… what you'll get me to do this time? Don't ask me to grab a mic, I'd rather go steal an AV and climb that fucking tower myself!" "Nah, your coup at the Orbital Station's enough. It's about Rogue."

"One of the many people you let down. Wanna be friends again?" "Not sure. Maybe I shouldn't insert myself back into her life." "Way too late, Johnny. Backing off now would just be another excuse to ruin your relationship with her." "You're right. Always promised her I would- well-" Johnny was hesitating. His vibrant emotions started to fade, like he was trying to hide them from his host. "Just tell me the truth. All I'm asking." "Promised her a date, long, long ago. Never found the right moment." "Sure, I'll call." "You sure, that'd mean-" "You're trying, Johnny. Can feel it. Can take the body for a ride. Just, be gentle... gentler with it, yeah? No alcohol, drugs, or whatever the-" "No, I mean. Won't that… fuck it up 'tween us?"

A pause. V smiled, than laughed. Giddy at the thought that there indeed was the beginning of a relationship between them now, something Johnny admitted he was scared to loose, but V had felt Johnny's feelings for Alt, and felt his feelings for Rogue's not long after. He knew that that heart he was so closely protecting was bigger than they all thought. "Johnny, I've been around you long enough to know you can handle more than one." "Fuck, V. Maybe you're right."

[forever-sapphire]

Love is Gone

summary: a short story about losing feelings based on the song Love is Gone by SLANDER and Dylan Matthew

pairing: min yoongi (suga) x reader

genre/warnings: angst(?), idol!yoongi, established relationship

a/n: this is my first work on tumblr and my first fanfic in over five years. still figuring things out but i hope you enjoy it!! :))

wc: ~1.5K

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You knew Yoongi was not the most expressive person in the world. He often felt like a wise old soul trapped in the body of a thirty year old. He was quiet and serious in his own way but he has really opened up in the past years. He smiles more, makes more of an effort to be around people.

When you met him your first impression of him was cold and distant, he seemed like the type of man that would observe a situation first before he acted. He gave off the aura of someone that has been through hell and back. As you got to know him you found out that he was a man of many sacrifices.

He’d gone through everything you could possibly imagine to get to where he is now. He’s made six lifelong friends and has a successful career in music, but in the process he’s lost so much. This didn’t mean that he didn’t find anything along the way. He’d grown as a person and has learned and unlearned a lot about himself. If asked, you would say Yoongi was a different person from when you first met him; but still, he was unapologetically himself.

It wasn’t easy getting to know him, but loving him came naturally. It took a while to break his walls down––even now you’re not entirely sure if those walls have completely caved in. You’ve known Yoongi for five years now, been with him for three. He was your support system, the one that got you through your tough times. The constant in a world centered around change. You knew you could trust Yoongi with your heart and soul.

So why was this happening?

It started small.

He zoned out while you were talking about your next passion project––a short film that tackled your fear of growing old without someone to love and someone who loved you in return. You were talking about it animatedly to Yoongi in his Hybe studio. You’d brought some dinner over because he was working overtime. It wasn’t unusual for him to get wrapped up in work, take out was nothing new to the both of you.

He’s tired, you reasoned.

With a small smile you stopped talking. Usually Yoongi was enthusiastic when it came to listening to your passion projects. Sure, he’d zone out before but never about a film you wanted to make. It was starting to become more frequent, you noted. It wasn’t out of character for him to be out of it but the recurrence of it was starting to worry you. 

“Are you okay?”

It took a moment before he shrugged and gave you a faint smile. 

“Let’s go home?”

He knew it wasn’t a question. He gave a curt nod before saving his progress and closing his computer. He had a small studio in your shared apartment. It wasn’t like the one he had in Hybe but it was enough to work from home on days he didn’t want to be away from you.

However, recently it was starting to feel like that room tore you apart instead.

With his enlistment coming soon, Yoongi was focused on creating as much content as he could. He’d be working late nights in his Hybe studio only to come home and continue working in his home studio. You understood how important his work was to him, it was something you knew and accepted even before you began dating. You never competed with his work and would always be there to support him.

Then it was the little things.

Yoongi used to call you his muse, he’d share his music with you before anyone else. He’d lay out the first draft of his lyrics in front of you as if he hadn’t just shared with you the rawest and purest form of his emotions. In his mind you were one and the same. He wasn’t letting someone in his space, it was him and you. One singular unit.

You don’t remember when it started but you realize you don’t know the words to any of his newest songs. He no longer consults his craft with you; now it was him and you. Two separate beings. It wasn’t long before he had released a song you  knew nothing about on his personal SoundCloud––the one only known by you and the other members of BTS.

You received a call from Jimin excited about the new song, asking if you had known about it all along––of course you knew about it, who was he kidding? 

He didn’t notice the hesitation in your voice, the way it falters as you give a soft laugh and pretend you heard about it. You listened to the song as soon as the call ended and your heart falls.

You don’t know what it’s about.

Then it became bigger.

Yoongi usually made sure you would sleep beside each other whenever possible. No matter how tired he was or how late he’d get off of work, he made sure to spend even just ten minutes of rest on your shared bed. He wasn’t always there when you woke up but he made sure you never felt that the bed was too big for you.

You weren’t usually a light sleeper but it started a couple weeks ago when you woke up needing to use the bathroom. Yoongi wasn’t in bed anymore. He wasn’t the type to go back to work when he already packed up for the night. Still, you found him in his home studio, the computer opened to another sound file unknown to you.

You don’t disturb him, afraid to break his concentration. You go back to bed feeling more lonely than you thought you’d be.

You started sleeping lightly after that. Yoongi no longer stayed in bed with you. He’d get up in the middle of the night and stay in his studio. Sometimes you even find him curled on the small sofa that was initially more for decoration than for sleeping.

It was another one of those nights. You felt him shift on his side of the bed. You felt the sheets move and heard the rustle of his indoor slippers on the floor. Soon you hear the door creak and the sound of his footsteps fade into nothing.

“Don’t go tonight.”

Your plea falls on deaf ears, no one is there to listen.

~ o ~

“What did I do?”

Your voice is firm and a silence hangs over the two of you. This wasn’t the silence you were used to. No––silence with Yoongi was supposed to be quiet, comfortable, safe.

Yoongi’s mouth opens slightly, only for him to close them again soon after. He’s struggling with his words, grasping for answers. He wanted to tell you so badly that it wasn’t you, it could never be your fault, but he couldn’t find the words to express himself. He didn’t know how to stop you from hurting, he didn’t know what he should do knowing that he was causing your pain.

He wanted to say he was sorry. He didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did. Feelings fade, people change. There was nothing he could do. He wanted to hold you, comfort you, tell you everything was going to be okay. Before anything, you were his friend. But he knew he shouldn’t.

Instead he remains quiet, unable to meet your gaze.

“I’m sorry.”

Silence.

“Don’t leave me.”

Nothing.

“I want you here with me.”

Your voice finally cracks, the tears starting to fall.

You can’t breathe. You feel sick to your stomach. You knew this happened but you never thought it’d happen to you. No, this can’t be real. You’ve been a good person your whole life. Sure, you’re no saint but you avoided hurting people as much as you can. You do good deeds every now and then––sharing your umbrella with a stranger, being there for a friend. You’ve never saved someone from a burning building but you’ve never harmed anyone intentionally.

You feel weak. If you weren’t already sitting your knees would’ve given out. You try to wrap your head around it, try to process how it could’ve happened. It was slow, it started small. It was the zoning out. The secrecy when it came to his music. The late night work sessions. It was everything. You saw it coming, you should have, but you denied it with every fiber of your being. How could he just decide he didn’t love you anymore?

“I’m sorry,” his voice was barely above a whisper. He leaves you there, lost and in pain.

You know this isn’t easy. Sobs wracked your body. This was the one moment you’d allow yourself to break, you told yourself. You cry your heart out, clutching at your shirt, the pain swelling in your chest. You promised yourself you’d be strong, that you’d let it out then let it go. But it wasn’t that easy. As you hug yourself tighter you know it won’t be a linear process. Your heart was broken and Yoongi had taken a piece of you with him. You can make all these promises to yourself and still break but you’d move on. You have to.

Your voice catches in your throat, you wish Yoongi would hear you and deny it.

“Your love is gone.”

[chickenfics]

Scars

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader - Western AU

Summary: Running from a past that haunts you and a future that is unsure, the last thing you wanted was to take up with a stranger. Strangers, you'd learned, are almost always more trouble than they're worth. But when dangers from the life you're trying to leave behind get too close for comfort, drastic times call for drastic measures, and the stranger you'd once feared becomes the only person you can trust -- and perhaps the only person you'd call your friend. Now you both just have to make it out alive...

Word Count: 7.1k

Content warning: violence, blood, injuries

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future chapters!

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Chapter 8

“See that forest up ahead?”

You shielded your face from the sun and squinted into the distance.

“You mean that grey blob?”

“No,” Bucky replied with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. You glared at him and he smirked.

“I have little time and even less patience for that. It’s too damn cold.”

“You started it,” he defended, but before you had a chance to continue your bickering, Bucky was leaning sideways in his saddle and holding out the map.

“There,” he pointed. “That’s your grey blob. And that,” he ran his finger up to where a small line cut through the forest -- a river. “That’s where we’re crossing. Pigeon Rock is a day’s ride from there. The safe house isn’t far after.”

You studied the map, followed the line he’d traced.

“We’re close.”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded, sitting back into his saddle and folding the map, putting it away in his saddlebag.

“Real close.”

Bucky turned to look at you.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Real close.”

As you both started towards the grey blob of forest in the distance, the horses at an easy lope, you tried to ignore your conflicting feelings. You should be happy that you’d made it this far. You should be looking forward to making it past Pigeon Rock, further and further away from the threat of the others finding you. But all you could think about was Bucky and how, very soon, he’d be reuniting with his friends. Very soon, there would be no place for you in his life. You’d always known this would happen. In fact, you’d expected it, back when you’d taken up with Bucky. But so much had changed.

Bucky had saved your life, and you’d saved his. You’d grown fond of him, as impossible as that seemed, and even worse, you’d grown used to his presence. You’d gone too soft; you were reliant on his company, and now that you’d be alone again, you risked making mistakes. You’d have to be especially careful, even more vigilant than you had the past few weeks when you’d have two pairs of eyes instead of one. The thought of going back to your old life -- of constant fear around every corner and behind every path you took, the loneliness that you hadn’t even realized you’d been feeling -- it terrified you as much as it made you desperate.

And desperation was as good as death. It made you weak.

So you tried to ignore it. That was what you did when you felt any unwanted emotions -- tried not to look them in the eyes in the hopes that they would go away. But unlike a wild animal or a particularly persistent stranger, you couldn’t escape what you were feeling no matter how long you waited it out. It would always be there, looking back at you whenever you unfocused your vision. At least it had one benefit: the time passed quickly, and soon the sun was setting over the plains.

You went to sleep that night with an uneasy feeling like a rock sunk to the bottom of your stomach.  

The next morning, you and Bucky made quick work of packing up camp and saddling the horses. Both of you were eager to get moving, it seemed -- and as many bad feelings as you were having, you couldn’t deny that part of you that was happy to be getting further and further away from your old life. Every mile you rode to the North was another mile between you and Mickey. You hoped that you’d never have to see his face again outside of your nightmares.

A few hours after sunrise, you noticed Bucky watching you. You’d been silent all morning -- but then, so had he. The realization that you’d both be arriving at your destination soon had forced a feeling of change into the air. It was easy to fall into the monotonous routine of traveling when your destination was so far away -- but now, with the end drawing near, you both had to face what was coming next. And what that meant for the two of you.

You weren’t sure what Bucky was thinking -- if he had even considered the fact that you’d be going your separate ways, or if he didn’t care. The idea that you might be alone in your disappointment at never seeing Bucky again was more painful than the idea of returning once again to your solitude. But Bucky was just as quiet as you were, and unreadable. It was he, however, that broke the silence.

“Hey--” you looked up from where you’d been staring at Horse’s mane. “You alright over there?”

“Me? I’m fine,” you lied. “...Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, his voice a pitch higher, maybe a bit more defensive than usual. “Just… thinkin’.”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“You know--” A gunshot rang through the plains. The horses tensed and you and Bucky whipped around, looking behind you to where the sound had come from.

“Shit,” you muttered.

“Shit,” Bucky agreed.

You glanced at each other, then wordlessly urged the horses forward with the new sudden need to reach the forest as quickly as possible. At least there you would have some cover. As you rode beside Bucky you tried to think about what that could have been. It was possible it had been nothing. But then, it was also possible that it wasn’t. You rode harder towards the trees.

There was always something. Always something, and it was always chasing you. You wished for once in your life you could just relax -- just for a moment.

The trees came into view and out of the grey blob, you were able to see branches and the thicket of the forest. You reached it by midday, and only then did you slow. You hadn’t heard anything else since the gunshot, hadn’t seen anything suspicious, but you and Bucky were still alert. Even as you entered the shelter of the trees you stayed alert, because there was always something.

“I don’t know if we should camp tonight,” you said. Bucky glanced at you in acknowledgment before looking away, a thoughtful furrow in his brow. He always looked so grumpy when he was thinking. Under different circumstances, you would have found it sweet.

“That gunshot was close by.”

“The horses need to rest.”

“If we stop and they don’t, they’ll overtake us.”

“If we don’t stop we’ll run our horses out, and then what do you expect us to do?”

You frowned, frustrated by what he was saying even though you knew he was thinking just as logically as you were. You didn’t butt heads with him often, so when you did it was unfamiliar, and it made you antsy. You didn’t like bickering, but you were also used to making all your own decisions. In that way, at least, it was sort of nice not to have to be the only one. You’d much rather be arguing with Bucky than alone.

“Besides,” he was saying. “You don’t even know if that was anyone.”

“Oh yeah, of course. Because guns just go off on their own, generally.”

Bucky glared at you and you raised your eyebrows.

“I don’t need to know if that was anyone -- the chance that it could be is enough.”

“How have you not run that animal to the ground yet?” he muttered, jerking his chin towards Horse.

“Seriously?" you demanded, because ‘fuck you’ seemed a little too harsh for something like this.

“Look--” you shook your head and turned away, but Bucky continued. “I get it, alright? I know what you’re sayin’, but I think we should camp.”

You took a deep breath. If you made camp, everyone would be able to get some rest, but there was the chance that whoever had set off their gun would come across you. If you didn’t camp, you wouldn’t have to worry about that, but you also wouldn’t get any sleep. And Bucky was right about the horses.

“What if…” you shifted, turning to look at him. “What if we travel west for a mile or so?” The shot had come from directly behind you, so…

“We’d be out of their line of travel,” Bucky finished your thought.

“If they’re not actually following us, they’ll miss us completely.”

“And we can cut a diagonal in the morning. Stay on track.”

You raised an eyebrow alluringly. Bucky’s face shifted from annoyed to reluctantly skeptical, which told you that he’d decided to agree with you.

“Yeah?” you grinned.

“Yeah, alright. Compromise, or whatever,” he mumbled, then sent you a smirk.

By the time you made camp, the moon was climbing into the sky. The temperature had dropped and, with the coming of winter, would no doubt continue to plummet. You draped blankets over the horses, but it was an easy mutual decision not to light a fire. It was too risky, as much as it would have helped. Instead, you and Bucky gathered all the blankets you had into a pile. You stared down at them, a hand on your hip.

“Here,” Bucky muttered, stooping down. “You take the extra one.”

“Buck--”

“No. I don’t get as cold, anyway. It’s…” he waved his metal arm in gesture. You blinked at it, then furrowed your brows.

“Okay,” you reluctantly agreed. “But if you get cold you have to tell me, or I won’t talk to you until we reach Pigeon Rock.”

“Oh, well in that case-- ow,” he winced as you smacked him on the arm, then grabbed the blankets from his hand.

The night, as always, was loud. The shuffling of the horses, the buzz of crickets -- you even heard an owl and a few coyotes going about their nighttime business. Gradually, though, another sound joined in.

You couldn’t seem to stop your damn teeth from knocking together.

It had been nearly an hour and you were still awake. Bucky had rolled over ages ago and was breathing evenly, but you were freezing, even with your two blankets. You hated this time of year. Despite all the time you’d spent braving the elements, you’d never done well in the cold. And, up until a few months ago, you’d always spent the night in a tent, and often you’d spent the night with someone laying by your side.

You shivered harder at the thought, knowing immediately that you’d rather freeze tonight than ever go back to that. It was what had kept you sane, these past months as you lay much like you were now, huddled against the bite of the cold and wondering if you’d make it to see the sun or if some traveler would come across your corpse. Because you would have traded any imaginable sort of comfort to get away from the rest of them. So really, if you considered it, the cold wasn’t that bad.

Still, it made sleeping difficult.

Barely ten minutes passed before you couldn’t take it anymore. Sitting up, you huddled back against your saddle and wrapped the blankets tighter around yourself. You obviously weren’t sleeping tonight, so you might as well get comfortable.

“Y/N,” a whisper in the darkness. You looked up to see Bucky’s form, half sat up, watching you. “Come on.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I can practically hear your bones knocking together. Come on over,” he gestured with a small wave. You blinked again -- and then a few more times just for good measure -- before slowly standing up.

“You sure?”

“If it means I can finally get to sleep,” he replied with mock exasperation. “Then yes.”

An unavoidable part of yourself couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, and Bucky groaned.

“No, no -- don’t do that, you always make me feel like a horrible person when you do that. Just,” he sighed, voice lowering a bit. “Just lay down, would you? I mean -- i-if you want to, I don’t…”

“No, it’s okay. I mean, thank you.”

You were both stepping around each other so carefully. So you made a decision for the both of you and lowered yourself carefully down next to him. He shifted, moving out of your way and giving you space to lie down. Then he spread his blanket out over top of the two you had wrapped around your shoulders.

“Damn,” he muttered when his hand brushed yours. “You really are cold.”

“How are you not?” you managed around a shiver, but Bucky just shook his head and repositioned himself so he could pull you to his chest. “Wh-- What are you doing?”

“Body heat,” he replied, eyes already closing again. His hand rubbed absentmindedly up and down your back. Now that you actually took a moment, you realized that you were starting to feel warmer.

Not bothering to let yourself feel self-conscious -- that would come in the morning, you were sure -- you curled your legs up, pressing them into Bucky’s thighs.

“Better?” he asked. “At least you’re not gonna freeze now.”

“I was never gonna freeze,” you mumbled, scooting closer to him, folding your hands against his stomach. You were finally starting to get some feeling back.

“Uh-huh,” he sarcastically replied.

A wind blew through the forest and you tucked your face into the fabric of Bucky’s shirt. He lifted a hand, shielding you with his arm until it died down.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your own breath feeling warm against your face in the cocoon of blankets and bodies the two of you had created.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, looking down at you for a moment.

It was the last thing you remembered before you fell asleep, the way that those grey eyes had found yours with a cautious eagerness that was held so far down it was drowning. He looked at you like he was trying to pick apart something he'd seen in the landscape a hundred times before but was just now getting a good look at. You wanted to ask him what it was, but by the time you got the courage to, you were already asleep.

________________________________________________________________

He was hugging you when you woke. As a child, you’d had a little stuffed rabbit your mother had sewn from dress scraps. It was the one thing that had truly been yours -- the one thing that had come from her hands specifically for you. For a while, it was your everything. You used to hold it to your chest, arms wrapped around it while you slept. Bucky was holding you just like that; tight to his chest. His arms were crossed in front of you, his left hand propped up, fingers curled, and his right resting against your collarbone.

You’d cried for ages when you’d lost that stuffed rabbit. You hadn’t been able to sleep for days. Your mother had promised to make you a new one, but it wasn’t the same. Somehow she knew that, with her kind eyes and their understanding sadness. Your father threatened to make you sleep in the barn if you couldn’t pull yourself together. Mickey had laughed.

When Bucky woke up, he took a deep breath through his nose. You found yourself taking a deep breath with him, face tilted to try and watch him; understand him. His arms shifted around you as he lifted his head, blinking around before laying back again. You could feel the way his body was different now that he was awake. He was tensed, ready for movement, and you felt him try to pull his arm out from under you without being disruptive. After a weak tug, he stilled. Turning slightly, you let your hand find his against your chest.

“Didn’t freeze,” you murmured, voice still hoarse. Your breath sent a cloud into the cold morning air. So did Bucky’s laugh.

“You were never gonna freeze,” he replied, his grip on you finding its firmness again. “Never would’ve let you.”

This newness surprised you. The way he was being right now surprised you even though it wasn’t anything you wouldn’t have expected Bucky to do. And it made you realize that even though there was so much you’d never seen, there were parts of him that you just knew.

That morning was the slowest you’d ever gotten up. You rolled onto your back, right into Bucky’s side. His arm adjusted but didn’t move from around you. And you sighed, and you stared up at the canopy above your head, and Bucky did the same. Things were quiet, and you wondered if this was what it was like for your mother. If this was what she’d meant when she’d told you, whispering softly from beside the fireplace, that, “One day, my love, you’ll become a wife. One day everything about yourself will make sense and you’ll finally understand what you’re really here for.”

You wonder if she had truly believed that, with her husband of fury and heavy fists and her son of cruelty. You wonder if she’d believed that that was what she was meant for. You didn’t feel like a wife. And Bucky didn’t seem like the kind of man to become a husband. But you thought that perhaps your mother had been onto something, even if she’d been wrong about most of it. Because, really, you were starting to understand what you were here for. And with Bucky, things were starting to make sense.

You both got up slowly, one at a time. You went first, sitting up, and Bucky’s hand trailed down your back in a brief moment of gentleness that had you turning around and looking down at him. His hair was messy, and the skin around his eyes wrinkled softly as he looked back at you and tried a soft smile on for size. His shirt was rumpled, the blankets bunched around his waist, and you thought to yourself: He’s beautiful. This is what it’s supposed to be like when you open your eyes next to someone.  

You thought about your mother and how much you weren’t like her. You thought about how similar your lives had been, and yet, how different they were. And you couldn’t help but wonder if she’d have ever found this if she’d lived longer than she had. A small part of you died a slow, careful death when you realized that it didn’t matter because you’d never know, and she’d never know what it was like to wake up feeling safe. You buried that part of yourself and placed a marker by its grave. And then you saddled your horse.

Bucky followed you out into the forest, heading North once more. Heading towards an end and a beginning.

You thought about what you might do after you arrived at Pigeon Rock. The plan had always been to cross the river and keep on going. Now, though, you wondered if anywhere was far enough. You wondered if they’d suspected your plan all along. You distinctly did not wonder what it would be like to travel alone again; you’d decided not to think about that until it happened.

It was all you really were thinking about, though, as much as you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t. The thought had already sunk its fangs into the back of your mind and now venom was making its steady way through your veins. It’s tricky, that way. It gets to every other part of your body so fast there’s no possible way to escape it. Because really, that’s the bad part about thoughts: you have to share your body with them. Makes avoidance almost impossible.

You were trying, though.

Thankfully, Bucky didn’t feel like talking. You didn’t consider for a moment that perhaps it was because he was thinking the same thing you were; he had friends on the other end of his destination. You… you just had more running. But that was okay. All of it, really, was okay. Everything was going exactly as you’d planned it to. Everything except Bucky. The world had really thrown you a wildcard with Bucky.

It was bothering you more than you would have liked.

So instead you focused on the grim reality that you were facing -- had been facing for your entire life. And you did what you did best: you made a list. A list of steps, of things you’d need to do, of supplies you’d need to purchase, stops you’d need to make. Towns were sparse the further North you got until eventually, you hit the mountains. You would need to carry as many supplies as you could, and the rest you’d have to hunt, gather, or make. It was going to be difficult. It was going to be dangerous. But then, your whole life had been -- and there was no doubt it would be if you stayed.

Horse tripped over a root and brought you back to yourself. You’d been lost in your own thoughts for most of the morning and, squinting up at the sky, you saw that it was nearly noon. You looked over at Bucky. He was taking a swig from his waterskin -- the last of his supply, it looked like. He tipped it back until it was horizontal, then shook it.

“The river,” you wondered aloud. “I suppose that’ll be our last resupply.”

Bucky looked over at you like he’d only now remembered you were there. He glanced down at his canteen, then nodded before slipping it back into his saddlebag.

“Right…. Uh, actually I wanted to ask you--”

“Shit,” you muttered, suddenly reining Horse back. Just up ahead, peeking through the trees, was a cabin. It was small, set up on stilts, and a tree had fallen onto the roof.

Bucky stopped next to you and followed your eyes. He frowned, sweeping his coat aside and laying a hand on his revolver.

“It doesn’t look occupied,” you said, not daring to be optimistic quite yet.

“No,” Bucky replied, his voice low. “But they never do.”

No. No they didn’t.

“Stay here, watch the perimeter. I’ll make sure we don’t have to worry about anyone shooting us on our way through.”

You nodded even though the idea of splitting up settled uneasily in your chest. But, better safe than sorry -- and better than getting shot in the back. Bucky dismounted, handing you Alpine’s reins, and then pulled his gun from its holster.

“Be careful,” you said. Bucky turned around long enough to give you a nod and a wink before heading slowly towards the cabin, keeping the trees in between him and the few windows you could see from this distance.

You didn’t watch him go. Instead, you scanned the surrounding forest, thankful that it was still daylight. Your eyes began to ache as you searched the underbrush, the different shades of brown and green blending together. Wrapping Alpine’s reins around the saddle horn, you drew your piece just in case. Bucky had made it to the cabin. He was climbing up the stairs, leaning sideways into the door with his gun at the ready.

You heard a shot go off, and the sound of Bucky yelling had you sitting up in your saddle a moment before something caught the back of your shirt. You felt yourself being jerked sideways. Crashing to the ground, you lost hold of your weapon as Horse jumped away from you, rearing up and throwing his head. You whipped around, rolling onto your back and trying to scramble away from whatever had attacked you when a boot landed squarely on your chest, pressing just enough to stop you from moving.

“Where’s your gentleman friend, huh Kitty Cat?” Mickey’s voice reached your ears before his face swam into view, looming above you like every nightmare you’d ever had. You struggled, hitting his leg, but he just looked down at you with amusement.

Another shot rang off, followed by the sound of something crashing through wood. Mickey looked up, feigning surprise.

“Oh? There he is."

“Bucky!” you screamed. Mickey gave you a kick. “Bucky!”

“Shut up,” he spat, leaning over you, grabbing your chin and squeezing. His amusement had shifted to anger as quickly as it always had. You remembered learning that, as a child, how quickly he could change.

You twisted sideways and bit his hand. Teeth sunk into flesh and you tasted copper. Mickey cursed, throwing your head back into the ground. He looked at the blood dripping from his hand with shock, and it was enough that you were able to knock him off balance by shoving his leg. He fell sideways, catching himself just as you began to scramble backwards for your gun.

“No you don’t,” he muttered, coming after you, pulling a knife from his boot.  

You yelled Bucky's name again, hoping he could hear you. Hoping he wasn’t dead. God, what if he was dead?

But you would be, too, if you didn’t do something fast and soon. You turned onto your side, kicking out as you tried to evade Mickey. You’d just gotten onto your knees when an arm wrapped around your neck. Mickey jerked you backwards, and your whole body jolted with a sharp pain as he whipped you around.

“Really thought you could run? Huh? You really thought you could run? From me?”

Tears had spilled onto your cheeks, but you hardly registered that they were there. Mickey smiled. That was the only way you knew. He always smiled a special sort of way when you cried. You reached up and clawed at his face. He leaned back, struggling to get out of your reach while also trying to hold you still, and you managed a scratch down his cheek before he removed one hand from holding you and hit you across the face with it. Your vision went black for a moment. Just a moment, and then you leaned back, got a leg under you, and kicked forward as hard as you could.

Your boot connected with his lower abdomen. He grunted, reaching forward to smack you again, breaking skin this time. You had a small moment of stillness and clarity to wonder why he hadn’t stabbed you yet. Probably for the same reason that a cat risks losing its mouse just to see it squirm. But you weren’t a mouse. A mouse had never shot a cat.

You scrambled backwards, kicking out just in case he managed to get close enough, and through the tears and the blood running into your eyes, you twisted around and found your weapon -- a little streak of silver among the green and the dirt. You threw your hand out, felt as your fingers found the cold material. You squeezed it until your skin felt like it would tear. Mickey grabbed the back of your shirt.

Everything grew very still, at that moment. But you’d look back and remember nothing. Nothing but the dirt beneath your hand and the sound of your own heart beating inside your chest.

He pulled you around, aiming another blow at your face. A single shot rang out. It took you a moment to be sure -- to fully convince yourself that the shot had come from the revolver smoking in your hand. And then it took you another moment to fully register the blood dripping into your lap. Mickey hovered over you, propped up on one of your arms -- the one that you’d thrown out in a vain attempt to block him. Gradually, his grip on your shirt loosened. There was a scarlet hole in the lower half of his face. One side of his jaw was blown out, the bone shining white behind torn flesh.

You gasped, pushing him off of you, and the dead weight of his body took him the rest of the way. He fell backwards into the dirt. You felt something hot and panicked rise up your throat.

He was dead. There was blood on your shirt and it belonged to him. He was laying, unmoving in the dirt that had started to turn red. You’d shot him. And the first thought that cleared through the fog of panic was it’s over. It was all you could tell yourself as you stared down at the body of your brother. It was over.

Somewhere in the time between the gunshot and now, you realized your breath was coming too fast. You didn’t ever consider doing anything about this -- it was just a thought, just a moment of wondering of realization. And then you felt yourself shaking, you felt the adrenaline that always comes with taking a life, only this time with the added weight of knowing exactly whose life you’d just taken -- knowledge that you’d have to live with for the rest of yours. Maybe the part of you that was relieved made it worse, but you couldn’t calm down.

Sound and sight rushed back in and you heard the sound of someone yelling. A sob caught heavy in your throat - tore into your flesh like a dagger. Then there was a firm body against your back, arms wrapped around your middle pulling you backwards, and you were certain that it was Red. He’d seen what you’d done and now he was going to kill you. You hit your fists against the arms, trying to twist out of his grip, and you hit and you hit and you hit -- and it hurt. Why did it…

The gleam of a metal arm caught your eye. You realized that the yelling you’d heard had come from you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky’s voice reached you from somewhere far away. You felt his breath against your cheek, making the wetness of your tears feel cool. No, you couldn’t be crying right now. You reached up and scrubbed at your face.

“No,” Bucky murmured, gently trying to stop you, and you realized too late that your hands were covered with blood.

A sob caught in your throat, choked you, sunk back into your belly like lead. You shuddered.

“Shhh,” Bucky breathed, pressing his cheek to the side of your head. He was sitting behind you, now, his legs around yours, keeping you close, creating a barrier between you and the forest.  

You found yourself leaning back into his chest, and when he felt your weight drop, he adjusted his arms around you, trying to hold you closer even though he couldn’t. You were still crying -- tears cutting trails through the blood on your face. It dripped uncomfortably down your neck. You wanted to crawl out of your skin.

“I… he's…”

“You’re alright.”

“I shot him.”

“I know.”

“He’s still breathing--” you were sure he was breathing. Mickey didn’t die. You’d seen him die so many times, but he always came back. No matter what, he always came back. He'd get up and then he'd hurt you. He'd never forgive you for what you'd just done. He’d kill Bucky and then he’d--

“No,” Bucky said, sounding like the word had gotten caught in his throat.

“He’s… he’s…”

“He’s dead, Y/N.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he whispered, breath against your ear. His arm shifted up to your sternum, fingers flattening on your chest, warm.

You didn’t feel well. What…. What was that…

“Bucky?”

Your voice didn’t sound like your own anymore. Bucky sat up straighter, taking you with him.

“Bucky, I don’t--”

“Shit,” he hissed, pulling his hand away from your stomach. He shoved you off of him, but before you had a chance to ask him what was wrong he was pulling you back down. Laying you in the dirt, Bucky tore open the front of your shirt.

“He got you.”

You stared up at him.

“Fuck,” he yelled, whipping around like he was looking for something before leaning back down.

As he ripped off a strip of your shirt, you began to feel the pain, a sharpness in your belly. It hurt when you breathed.

“Bucky,” you whispered, but then he was pressing the wad of fabric down onto you and your vision went black.

You must have screamed because Bucky was shushing you again when you came to, his warm hand cupping your face, running frantic sweeps with his thumb, but there was still that pressure on your stomach, and god it hurt. You reached up, instinctively clawing at the arm holding you down, trying to stop.

“Stop,” Bucky spoke your own thoughts aloud. The few words you hadn't been able to say. Please stop. It hurts. Please don't.

“Stop, doll, stop. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Of all the things he could have said, that was the thing to bring you enough clarity that you caught up with what was happening. And then you laughed. You laughed, and it hurt, and so you winced as fresh, unbloodied tears began to roll down your cheeks. When your unfocused eyes finally found Bucky’s face, it was twisted with panic -- a kind of panic that made him look so much younger than he was. Immediately your brow pinched together, wondering what was wrong.

You lifted your hand, now also covered in blood that had begun to seep from fresh cuts made by metal, and laid it gently on the side of his face, running your fingers across his skin, the stubble on his neck.

“Y’okay?” you managed. His brow screwed up as he closed his eyes, but then he was looking at you again with an intensity that was more familiar.

“You’re not allowed to die.”

Despite the tears, you smirked.

“You hear me?” Bucky insisted, pressing harder against your wound. Your smirk shifted into a grimace. “You’re not allowed to die. Don’t even think about it. Y/N…”

Your vision was swimming. Your head… something was wrong. Some part of you that was more conscious than the rest laughed. Well of course something was wrong, you’d been stabbed. You couldn’t find your footing.

“Hey--”

“It’s okay.” You couldn’t tell if you’d said it aloud or not -- your mouth wasn’t working and your voice was getting lost among all the blood. It was bitter. You resisted the urge to gag.  

“It’s okay,” you wanted to tell him.

“Hey. Hey, no no no…”

His voice was an echo. The world faded away, slipping into a blank, void darkness. You felt like maybe you'd be alright.

________________________________________________________________

“No no no, come on. Shit,” Bucky slid a hand behind your head, holding it up as you went limp. “Fuck.”

He grit his teeth and pressed down harder on your wound. There was too much blood for him to think about how awful it felt to be hurting you. Then again, you weren’t feeling a thing anymore.

“Shit,” he mumbled again, laying your head down carefully so he could use both hands.

The wound was just above your navel, a little off to the right. The piece of your shirt was soaked through with blood. It had spread onto his hands. Bucky took a deep breath and tried not to look at the red staining metal. He closed his eyes and tried to think. If that bastard had hit any organs, you’d bleed out in hours. If somehow you’d gotten lucky, you could still die of infection before he managed to get you somewhere -- anywhere. He took a moment -- just a short, fleeting second -- to allow himself to be angry. How had things gone so bad so quickly? Why hadn’t he stopped this?

He’d realized it too late, climbing the half-rotted wooden steps to the house, that something was wrong. By the time he picked up on the other presence, the man you’d called Red was already shooting at him. Bucky had ducked sideways, lunging forward and tackling him. He slammed his fist forward, but Red ducked out of the way like a rat, and the floorboards splintered under the impact of metal. Kicking the man’s gun aside, Bucky tried to aim his own at his assailant, but Red threw a loose board at him.

It was enough for him to close the distance between them, and Bucky felt himself being shoved. His back hit the floor with a thud seconds before hands were at his throat, squeezing hard enough to make him choke. Oddly enough, Bucky thought of you. Jesus, you’d traveled with this man for how long? And he’d obviously hurt you -- Bucky had seen it firsthand, seen the lasting effects of all the things that had come before, things he didn’t even want to imagine. The thought of him putting his hands on you had something distinctly unpleasant seething up Bucky’s chest.

It didn’t take much effort. He lifted his metal arm and grabbed Red by the throat, shaking him until he let go. Coughing hoarsely, Bucky dragged himself to his feet, keeping a grip on the other man’s throat, squeezing just enough that he wouldn’t get any ideas. Panting, Bucky searched the floor for his gun.

“You,” Red breathed, his voice strained under Bucky’s hand. Bucky ignored him. There it was, his gun. He leaned sideways to get it. “You killed my girl.”

Bucky straightened up and raised an eyebrow, too exhausted to be having this conversation. “Did I?”

He knew he had.

Somehow Red managed to spit. Impressive, considering he couldn’t breathe.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you. And then I’m gonna go outside and--” he coughed. Bucky watched him with a blank expression. “And once Mickey’s done with that stupid bitch, I’m gonna take my turn.”

He’d barely gotten the sentence out before Bucky was throwing him backwards. Red stumbled one, two, three steps, and then a bullet was lodging itself between his eyes. Bucky glared down the barrel of his gun for a second longer than he needed to. That’s when he’d heard the scream. Your scream. Something inside his chest snapped in half, and suddenly he was flying out the door and through the forest, searching frantically for you.

He’d found you a trembling mess, covered in blood that flashed red across his vision -- blood that he’d been so afraid was your own -- and crawling away from your brother. That’s when Bucky realized what had happened. As much as it had hurt to see you so shaken up, he was unable to help his relief that the blood on your clothes didn’t belong to you.

Or at least, he’d thought.

Now, lifting your limp body into his arms, his relief was replaced with dread. It settled on his chest, a heavy lead that weighed him down with every step he took. The horses weren’t far. They’d gotten their reins tangled up in a tree and were grazing as if nothing had happened. As if he wasn’t carrying your unconscious, bloodied body. He almost envied them as he tore the reins loose and tethered Horse to Alpine’s saddle.

He pulled spare bandages from his saddlebag. Crouching down, he propped you up against his knee and wound the fabric around your stomach, pulling it tight. The bleeding had slowed down enough that the edges of your wound were getting sticky with coagulated blood. You were too cold, though, and Bucky felt himself begin to panic. If he didn’t get you medical help soon, you could die. He stood with a renewed urgency.

After a bit of maneuvering, he managed to mount. Alpine sidestepped under the added weight as he carefully wrapped an arm around your body, holding you against his chest.

“Goddammit,” he muttered under his breath, urging the horses into a trot.

Blood was smeared against the front of him. It clung to his shirt. The wind picked up, whipping into his face as Alpine raced forward. One-handed, he wrapped his coat around you, trying to shield you from the worst of it. You’d bled through your bandages already. Bucky cursed again, and the wind stole his voice as Alpine cut through it. He jammed his heels into her sides, and she lengthened her stride.

He couldn’t lose you. He realized it suddenly, all at once; every possible thing that would turn meaningless if you weren’t here with him. He couldn’t keep on going in a world that you weren’t in. You’d fought too hard and come too far to die like this. And, if you could just keep hanging on -- if you could get through this, you’d be free. Your bastard of a brother was dead, and Bucky had taken care of the other man. You weren’t being hunted anymore. You were free.

If only you could stay alive.

________________________________________________________________

Snow began to fall as Bucky rode into camp. The safe house looked different than he remembered it. You were still unconscious, held to his chest and hidden beneath his coat. You’d lost your hat in the fight, so he’d placed his onto your head to shield your face once the snow had picked up. What had started as a flurry when he reached the river was now a downpour -- white powder filling the air, catching on the grass and the dirt. It would be a pileup.

He’d made it here in a day. You’d woken up once, just long enough to cry out in pain and nearly give him a heart attack before slipping back into unconsciousness. The bleeding had stopped several hours ago, but the wound was angry and red. He kept checking it, a part of him hoping that somehow it would look better. The horses were exhausted. Steam rose from their flanks as he came to a rough halt just outside the perimeter. Alpine was wheezing, her breath coming in sharp, hollow gasps. He’d ridden her too hard, but there hadn’t been any other choice. Somehow, Horse had kept up, but he was in no better shape.

With numb legs, Bucky slid out of the saddle. His boots hit the snow with a thud, and then he was falling, catching you in his arms and tucking you against him. You were so cold. He pulled you closer, leaning over you, trying desperately to will some life back into your body.

“Stay with me, sweetheart,” he whispered, adjusting his grip on you. “We’re here.” His breath fanned out in a cloud of cold air. The clouds that your own breathing was making were too small and too few.

“We’re here,” he said it again, feeling his own vision go blurry. He was exhausted.

He heard the sound of guns cocking, of voices, but they were distant in his ringing ears. His eyelids fluttered as he tilted his head up, bracing for a shot or a strange face, wondering how he’d possibly protect you like this. And then, finally, a face swam into view. It was familiar.

“Bucky,” a voice, one he hadn’t heard in a very long time.

“Steve.”

________________________________________________________________

Taglist:  @desert-fern, @arcanebabe

[kkpwnall]

🔀 and Steddie because I am hopeless 🫡

hiiiii annnnna!!! if you’re hopeless i’m a lost cause!! thanks for sending this ask, friend!!

While you go get another drink I think of ways to tell you I'm fine One more vodka soda then you'll never even know that I'm lying I used to wonder why You never said goodbye But now you're off my mind

oooft this one's a doozy and just reeks of denial!!

so what if a spicy little steddie friends with benefits au? one where steve and eddie end up in the same city together (either indianapolis or chicago), and steve's figured out he's bisexual but he's never been with a guy before and he wants to know what it's like.

who better to figure it out with than eddie? he’s got experience, he can show him the ropes, and steve can trust him. and because they're just friends, there's no chance of one of them developing romantic feelings for the other, right? especially if they set out ground rules from the beginning. neither one of them are looking for a relationship.....

but of course, it happens. steve starts to have feelings for eddie. probably did from the beginning if he's being honest with himself (which he's not). probably a lot longer than that. but when he finally figures it out, he doesn't want another relationship that's just meaningless sex. he knows the feelings he has for eddie are real, just like he knows eddie doesn't feel the same way. they both just wanted something casual.

meanwhile eddie has never thought he was worth more than a quick fuck. fun for a hookup, but ultimately too much. he's not someone people stick around for and commit to. he convinces himself he doesn't want a relationship, with anyone. even steve. especially steve. especially because he's been crushing on him for years. but it's cool, he can do casual. he can absolutely separate his feelings from something as easy and meaningless as sex. it's called compartmentalization, thank you very much.

but the thing is, they work. on the streets and in the sheets. they were never exclusive, but they both basically acted like they were.

steve breaks things off (maybe during sex for maximum ouchies. it’s just that eddie is being so sweet with him, holding him like he’s something precious and steve can’t take it anymore. he can’t take a single more second of this tender affection or he’s going to explode and not in the fun way. he’s going to do something stupid like tell eddie exactly how he feels).

so steve breaks things off and shows up at their favorite bar with a new girl on his arm right after their breakup, and it hurts more than eddie ever thought it would so he gets the hell out of dodge that very night.

steve keeps unconsciously looking for eddie everywhere he goes, expecting him to be just around the next corner, expecting eddie to just be there at all their usual haunts, as one does after a breakup. but it's not even a breakup! they were never really together! it's fine, he's fine, he's not even thinking about him.

but eddie's gone to california, and he didn't tell anyone. certainly not steve. not until he shows up on argyle and jonathan's doorstep with all his worldly possessions packed in his beat up old van and asks if he could crash for a while.

eventually steve hears about eddie through the grapevine, and it shocks him to his core that eddie dropped everything, dropped his job, his friends, his steve, and just left like that without even saying goodbye. he stops himself from calling eddie all the time, definitely doesn't think about the things they did together that had nothing to do with sex. about the feelings he thought would go away once he broke things off.

and he finally realizes his mistake. he finally realizes what a colossal idiot he was for letting the best relationship of his life slip through his fingers. for breaking things off and then being upset about eddie not sticking around to deal with the fallout with him, gah he's such a hypocrite!

so in the summer of 1990-whatever, he finally gets all his ducks in a row, packs up his own car, and heads out to california himself. chasing the sun to try and get eddie back in his life, however he'll have him.

send me a 🔀 and a pairing and i'll make up a little au

[michellesmusing]

Blue Pearl - Chapter 2

Oh god, I can't post this on my Goran website... The Shame hahaahah! Here we are..

********

Chapter 2 Father Figure

Willem did remember that one night in December 1996 with Elizabeth on the set of “Speed 2: Cruise Control” in Saint-Martin. He was trapped in his hotel room with her and the night was quite stormy and Windy… He had worked the whole day filming the scenes where he kidnaps Sandra Bullock from the Cruise Ship, and even though he was exhausted after a long day on that ship, the scenes with Sandra Bullock had turned him on for some odd reason… Elizabeth and him ended up under the covers that night, endlessly making love to her like no tomorrow… He liked to joke about Michelle’s temper, blaming it on the weather during the night she was conceived!

Back in 1997, Willem was already the father of a teenager named Jake and wasn’t sure if he was ready to be once again a father… It’s only later during the release of “Speed 2” in Theaters, June 13th, 1997 to be exact that Willem learned the sex of his baby… A Girl! He did remember the overwhelming feeling that took him off his feet, as he would be a father for the second time at the age of 42 years old.

9 Months later his torrid night with Elizabeth in Saint-Martin, he welcomed Michelle into this world and swore he’d be a better father than he was with Jake.. This is where Willem went over the edge for Michelle. She was his precious blonde haired baby girl, it even cost him his marriage as his wife from that time realized that Willem didn’t really care about her, but Michelle.

Willem only did worse by Spoiling Michelle to no end when she was a child and the young woman grew with the idea of taking everything for granted. He couldn’t help it, giving her everything she wanted. She was as cute as a button with her blonde light hair and her baby blue eyes back in her toddler days… Willem was never capable of saying no to his daughter when she was a child.. He was blaming himself for her attitude, but now, it needed to stop, Michelle had to grow up a bit and become a responsible woman.

Michelle had learned at a young age that she was easily attracting the attention of people with her good looks and smart approach. When Willem brought her on the Stage of Spiderman in 2002, Michelle who was five at this time grew easily on everybody’s heart… One of the actresses on Stage once joked in front of Willem and Michelle about kidnapping Michelle, because she was too cute. The young blonde child didn’t find Kirsten's joke amusing at all and ended up in heavy tears in front of them. Willem had to take her in his arms and reassured her that no one would kidnap her and that he was keeping her at his side.

She was indeed Daddy’s lil girl and if Willem had to leave during months for filming, it was hard for Michelle to cope with the absence of her father. Willem was indeed missing the days that his daughter was just a small child, crying for him. How easy it was back in those days… All he needed to do was to take her in his arms and dry her tears…

These days were history as Michelle had grown up into a beautiful and uncontrollable woman. Her father’s fame had gone to her head, and she was enjoying it way too much… She could be despicable toward people that didn’t please her… But there was one person that Michelle always did respect, and it was Miranda the housekeeper. She had known her since she was a teenage girl, and never Michelle mistreated her as Miranda came from a toxic relationship, where she had been inflicted physical abuse for so many years.

That’s why when Michelle went to Vegas, she demanded Miranda to follow her and the housekeeper accepted her offer. She was the only person Michelle could count on, even seeing her as a mother. Michelle didn’t know how many hours she had spent confiding her most private secrets to Miranda.. She knew that with her, her secrets and confidences were kept safe, she never doubted Miranda’s trust at all.

Michelle knew that it was THE day, as Antun was on his way back to Las Vegas. It’s not as if she had the choice to begin with, she would be trapped with this man and had no idea who he was. She could only remember that he once was George Clooney’s bodyguard. She couldn’t remember where she had seen this, but she remembered it well.

Michelle sighed deeply as she sat on the cement floor alongside the pool, her legs slowly sliding down in the pool water, fluttering her small feet against the crystal clear water. Her blue eyes were gazing down at the two drains found at the bottom on the deep end, thinking about her father and Antun. She could kiss her freedom goodbye as she would have this man glued to her like flies on shit…

Miranda approached Michelle as she came out of the house by the patio door. She could tell the young woman was lost in her thoughts, Miranda had known Michelle for over ten years and she knew when something was wrong with the young woman.

“It’s going to be alright Michelle, don’t let it bring you down… Go, get your bathing suit and swim!!” As Miranda encouraged her to dress into her bathing suit, Michelle snorted in amusement at her housekeeper.

“I can’t, it’s my first day and I’m bleeding like crazy! I’d rather stay in my clothes and just dip my feet..”

Plus Michelle wasn’t in the mood at all to swim. She couldn’t help thinking about her ex boyfriend, wondering about the day where she’d wake up and not even the mere thoughts about him would pop up… One day, perhaps, but it wouldn’t be today for sure.

“Oh, I see! No worries, there are days like this. Say, I have prepared the bedroom on the second floor for our guest!” Miranda thought it would be nice to inform Michelle that Antun’s bedroom was ready on the second floor. Miranda was having her bedroom, and bathroom on the first floor as Miranda was living with Michelle… Thus since all the other bedrooms were located upstairs, Michelle wouldn’t really have the choice to live on the same floor as Antun at night.

The young woman rolled her eyes at the brief image of Antun popping in her mind.

“It’s ok Miranda, thank you… Thank you for everything you’re doing for me!!” Michelle was appreciating all the work done by Miranda in the house, and it’s at this precise moment that Miranda caught Dafoe’s daughter in tears by the side of the pool.

“Oh no, don’t cry like this Michelle!!” Miranda got closer to Michelle and sat down next to her on the concrete ground, wrapping an arm around her neck, knowing that she was saddened by many things in her life.

“It’s going to be ok!! Don’t cry like this…” Miranda tried her best to comfort Michelle, she hated seeing the young woman in tears like this.

“My father thinks I can't be an adult at all, he’s sending me this guy to babysit me, as if I was too stupid to take care of myself!!” Michelle angrily cried out to Miranda about what was bothering her.

Miranda secretly thought that Willem had made the right decision by sending Antun. Michelle was left by herself and she was indeed in need of a guide in her life by now, Antun seemed like a good choice, thought Miranda. He was tall, and had this calm aura and he wasn’t an eye sore either… He could only be beneficial for Michelle…Miranda thought he could be some sort of a father figure for the young woman, as it was obvious that Michelle always did seek this kind of figure from men. Perhaps it was explaining how her last relationship went down the drain like this.

“Come on, dry those tears and enjoy the day ok! Would you like some tacos for lunch, Michelle?” The young woman dried her tears from her cheeks and shook her head at Miranda.

“Nope! I’m just cranky I think! I will relax near the side of the pool. I’ll just eat the leftovers from last night… Don’t cook anything for lunch Miranda, I’ll be fine… I swear, I’m ok!!”

The housekeeper returned to her full height and left Michelle by herself as her cries slowly diminished.

“Alright, I’ll be inside if you need me, ok?” Michelle nodded at Miranda and watched her returning inside her house…

Meanwhile in Los Angeles, Willem made sure for Antun to be driven to his private jet as the Croatian man was ready to leave for Las Vegas. Willem had taken the short ride between his mansion and the airport with Antun, just to make sure that everything had been well explained for Antun.

“She’s sometimes not easy and you will see it rapidly. I want her to take her responsibilities, I don’t want her to go out every night and pay treats to everybody, they don't care about her. To them, she’s just the ungrateful daughter of Willem Dafoe, that’s all. If possible, I want her to invest more time in her dance studio and less time clubbing.”

That was easier said than done, thought Antun as he took place on the backseat of the spacious BMW owned by Willem, taking off his dark sunglasses, revealing his green eyes. Antun had already seen that Miss Dafoe wasn’t easy to deal with, but that didn’t really stress him at all. Michelle couldn’t be worse than all those Mega Stars a la Miley Cyrus, or Madonna… Not that Antun had been a Bodyguard for Madonna, but he could only imagine. She was just a young woman yearning for attention, and the way she treated people badly was just a shield she was using to protect herself.

“Don’t worry Willem, I’ll be there for her and I will make sure that she behaves well.” Willem had already planned everything, even stealing Michelle’s SUV keys, so Antun would be the only one authorized to drive her, oh wait, Willem’s SUV, because once again Willem was the one who had bought Michelle the Blue Lexus RX 350 to his daughter when she moved to Vegas.

Willem rummaged through his pants pocket and handed the set of Key Fobs to Antun.

“There you go, she’s not authorized to drive without you by her side… You’re old enough to know how to deal with her, but if she wanna drive, it’s with you, or she ain’t going anywhere. Keep the keys with you at all times, no exception.”

Willem was indeed crystal clear with Antun’s tasks. The 51 years old man nodded his head and agreed with Willem. He was being paid for a job, and Antun would do as Willem wished, no discussion needed at this point.

“What else can I say? I think I’ve said everything I wanted… And don’t hesitate, if Michelle ever gives you a hard time and I really mean it, you’re calling me right away, ok? I really mean it Antun!!”

Willem was completely stressed out, he had the feeling he had forgotten everything he wanted to tell Antun and the dark haired man ended up chuckling in amusement at Willem.

“Come on, take it easy Willem. I’m going to be fine…” He patted in a friendly manner Willem’s shoulder, hoping to reassure the man. Even though Antun sounded 100% confident, he didn’t really know Michelle. His first encounter with him had left a cold trace between them, as Michelle displayed her lack of enchantment toward him. Of course, she didn’t know him as well and Antun would allow her to get to know him, unless she wouldn’t want to.

The BMW soon arrived at the airport and pulled over on the tarmac near Willem’s private jet. Both men exited the Series 7 BMW and Antun was helped by the driver with bringing his suitcases in Willem’s jet.

“One more thing Antun, be gentle with her… I love her, she’s my daughter, she’s my flesh and blood. I don’t deserve an award for best father of the year, I know I’ve been absent for a major part of her life, but I will always love her and I don’t want anything bad to happen to her.”

Antun briefly smiled at Willem, capable of feeling what Willem was asking. Antun would give everything in his life to get 3 more minutes with his son Josh, who passed away when he was 8 years old.. So he perfectly fathomed the way Willem felt toward Michelle.

“No worries, I’ll take care of her!” These were the last words said by Antun before Willem hugged him and returned back to the BMW. Antun climbed into the Private Jet and installed himself in a seat, while the pilot was taking care of boarding his suitcases inside the private jet.

The flight went pretty well from Los Angeles to Las Vegas, almost no turbulence and Antun was quickly driven from the Harry Reid International airport to Michelle’s mansion in less than 40 minutes. To be honest, Antun wasn’t that thrilled about that job offered by Willem, and there were many reasons why… He had accepted to do this job, because he had known Willem for Decades, way before Michelle’s birth. It was also paying well, and he knew it was just a 5 month contract. Once Willem would be done with filming his new movie in Japan, his contract would expire.

A man working for Willem, picked up Antun at the Airport and drove it to Michelle’s mansion. The tall man stepped out of the car and retrieved his suitcases from the trunk of the car, he then tipped the driver and headed toward the large entrance of the luxurious house. Antun stepped on the porch nervously and rang the bell several times, before Miranda showed up at the door.

“Oh, hello sir!!” Miranda, who was as short as Michelle, had to lean back her head to have a complete look at Antun.

“Please come in! Let me take care of your luggage!” Miranda rushed to help Antun with his luggage and the Croatian man flashed her a smile.

“No worries, don’t, please Ma’am. I’m fine!” He didn’t want Miranda to help him with the suitcases, he was ok and he thought she already had enough to deal with..” Miranda nervously laughed in Antun’s presence and still didn’t want him to be worried about his luggage, she’d make sure to store them in his bedroom.

“Your bedroom will be upstairs, and if you wish I can give you a tour of the place in a few!” Antun nodded his head, and accepted Miranda’s offer for the tour of the house. Even though he had seen a bit of the place 24 hours ago, he still had no idea where his bedroom was located.

“Ok, how about going outside, to the pool huh, would you like a beer?” Miranda proposed to Antun to drink a beer by the side of the pool and he agreed. It’s not as if he would refuse this offer, on this hot and dry day typical of Las Vegas.

Miranda was extremely nervous around Antun for different reasons, the main being that Antun was an attractive man, but Miranda had to stay professional… She was also stressed, because she was frightened by Michelle’s reaction once she would meet him for real, Antun. Miranda pointed out the backyard and explained to him that Michelle was outside by the pool.

“Be careful though, she’s very cranky…” Miranda bit the inside of her cheek before revealing why Michelle was cranky.

“It’s that time of the month!” She giggled after revealing Michelle’s mood.

“Oh, I see.. Alright, I’ll be careful!” He said in a playful manner, not really scared of a woman on her period… He found it more amusing than frightening at this point.

There she was, sitting up on her sun chair with a Baseball cap covering her head and keeping her face in the shadow. She was wearing the same pinkish overall cotton as yesterday, but this time she was barefoot and she had rolled to her knees the bottom of her legs sleeve.

He slowly walked to her, dark sunglasses covering his green eyes. As soon as he got close enough to her, he caught the soft sunscreen scent emanating from her warm skin. She had a fair complexion due to the fact that she was blonde, and sunscreen wasn’t even an option for Michelle, she absolutely needed to apply layers of sunscreen on her skin, or else she would get sunburns.

“Hello, Miss Dafoe!” He flashed her a smile and the next thing he knew, Michelle looked up at him and quickly stood away from her sun chair and left the pool yard in a hurry, not even greeting him, which left Antun quite perplexed. He pushed his tongue against his cheek, a bit surprised by her reaction, but not really surprised to be exact. He snorted as the young woman disappeared from his sight.

“Alright!? I almost feel like at home” He said in a joking tone as Miranda stepped outside after seeing Michelle strolling back inside in a hurry.

“Oh no, so sorry!” Miranda sighed, disappointed in Michelle’s attitude.

“She can be a pest sometime. Really… Please enjoy your beer, and would you like some Tacos?” Antun agreed to eat some Tacos cooked by Miranda. She came back outside with the Tacos Plate and an bottle of Corona topped with a lime for Antun that was sitting at the patio table nearby the pool

“She’s quite cranky, I think you were right!” Antun once again joked about Michelle’s cranky attitude. Miranda tried to apologize as she thought it was an awkward situation.

“I’ll talk to her in a few. I don’t know why she’s acting like this with you sir!” For some reasons, Antun had a precise idea why Michelle was being this obnoxious with him.

“No, it’s ok… Let her alone. Give her time…” Antun knew better than going after Michelle, she was angry and it would only aggravate things by going after her, trying to change her mind.

The day passed by and Antun texted Willem to tell him that everything was alright with Michelle. He wanted to reassure her old man, because Antun was aware that saying the truth would’ve enraged Willem and caused havoc between him and Michelle…

Antun went to bed early that night, he was exhausted with the last two days that had drained him mentally and physically. He had eaten a good dinner with Miranda tonight, and Michelle had locked herself in her bedroom since the minute she left the pool this afternoon, so everybody in the large mansion was asleep by 11 eleven pm.

Antun wasn’t anxious at all concerning Michelle’s temper. She was indeed intense, but hey, that’s what happens when you conceive a child on the set of an Explosive Movie like “Speed 2: Cruise Control”… Antun knew the whole story about Willem and his torrid night in Saint-Martin, Willem once told the whole story after drinking too many mimosas..

6:48 AM, Las Vegas Time

The gentle notes of the piano awakened Antun from his deep sleep, to say that he had needed this sleep badly was an understatement… He slowly sat up in his bed and rubbed his sleepy eyes as he tried to recognize the song played by Miranda through the instrument downstairs… It was Orinoco Flow by Enya, at least this is what he concluded. Curious, the 6’4” man stepped out of the bed and dressed into a pair of sweatpants and a dark gray t-shirt before coming out of his bedroom, because by now, he wasn’t living alone anymore, but trapped with two women… He just couldn’t wander in his underwear in front of them.

He discreetly descended the spiral staircase and as he reached the middle of the staircase, he caught Miranda standing on the hall of the first floor. Her index finger straight up in front of her lips, motioning at Antun to stay quiet as Michelle was playing on her piano. Antun continued his descent at the bottom of the staircase, making sure not to disturb Michelle, who was indeed deeply focused on the instrument.

Antun’s green eyes widened as he reached the bottom of the staircase and caught sight of Willem’s daughter covering this famous song by Enya on a piano.. It was simply perfect, her fingers were running on the piano notes as if she had played the piano her whole life… He made sure not to interrupt her, both standing in awe a few feet away from Michelle.

Her short blonde hair was a mess as Michelle had fallen asleep with wet hair last night and she was wearing a Smurf Pajamas, which amused Antun. Under her harsh behavior, was trapped a little girl that was yearning for affection and kindness, but Michelle didn’t know how to cope with all of this, which was the reason she was putting on that shield. Antun was no Psychologist, but it was quite easy to interpret her behavior and the reasons behind it…

An hour later, Miranda cooked breakfast for Antun and Michelle. The temps were already high at 8 in the morning, Michelle had taken place by the pool a few minutes after playing the piano, dipping her feet again in the water of the deep end of the pool. No words have escaped Michelle’s lips yet toward Antun, she was still going on with ignoring him, but Antun knew that she would have to speak someday, or else it wouldn’t work between them. He knew she didn’t have the choice, and she was irritated by all of this, because for once in her life, Michelle had been told NO by Daddy…

Dressed in a black swimwear trunk, Antun entered the pool and swam toward Michelle who was sitting on the concrete ground near the end of the pool. Only her small feet were visible underneath the water and as Antun approached her, he caught the annoyance plastered all over her face. He knew how to deal with that, she was used to being complimented, and this is what he was going to do to break the ice. At least, he’d try!

“That piano riff was beautiful…” He said, smiling at her while having an arm resting on the side of the pool, keeping his head out of the water. That’s when Michelle snorted at Antun.

“I’ve played better…” She retorted. The reflection of the crystal clear water in her eyes had turned them into an intense shade of blue, she had dried traces of the sunscreen on her face, and a baseball cap covering her messy hair.

“No, I assure you, it was good!” He kept on complimenting her, and there it was, the faint of a smile finally brushing her delicate lips. She couldn’t say she wasn’t enjoying being complimented by Antun, at least nobody would’ve believed her. There he was, standing at 6’4” tall, dark haired, with a firm muscular shape, and a voice to die for… and Bonus as he was in his 50’s…

Michelle then kicked the water with her feet, lightly splashing Antun in the face, sending water against his dark sunglasses. She giggled as Antun acted surprised.

“Oh! You’re playing a dangerous game, Miss Dafoe!” He warned her with an amusing tone, only teasing her, and Michelle did it again, a mischievous smile growing on her lips.

Antun approached her and his large hands gently grabbed her by the waist and he lifted her up effortlessly in the air as if she was a ragdoll.

Michelle screamed and ended up laughing as Antun threw her in the water, while she was still fully clothed. She rubbed her eyes from the chlorine and swam away from Antun as he was seen laughing, proud of his little prank on the young woman. Her short hair was all wet and she had lost her cap in the water. Antun retrieved it and gave it back to her. At least he had broken the ice, she was by now speaking to him, which was a big step taken for both of them.

“Urghhh!!” She groaned at Antun, splashing him with water.

“I’m all wet now!!” She tried to appear angry in front of him, but Anton could clearly see her lil game, she still had this little smile stuck to her lips… He laughed goodly as Michelle exited the pool with her drenched clothes and entered her house to change.

Miranda was seen coming back outside when she caught Michelle in her wet clothes.

“Oh my, what happened?” Miranda was flabbergasted as she caught Antun, laughing in the middle of the pool.

“I gave her the attention she was craving for… Now she’s talking to me…” Antun smiled, proud of what he had achieved so far with the young woman.

[norwegianwoodtarot]

BEFORE YOU READ

This is a re-upload of an old reading, I have absolutely no memory of when this reading was done so keep in mind that the date on this post is inaccurate and the some excerpts may be outdated. Enjoy!

This ones a long one so strap in!!

Today's reading is focused on the romantic relationship between Harry and his soulmate. This reading will tell the dynamics of this relationship, rather than the timeline-unless specified otherwise.

For this, I put out an initial spread, just to see the dynamic in their relationship, I ended pulling a couple more cards for some clarification along the way, and ended with a little spread of Oracle cards. A couple readings ago, I told you all how I forgot to write down some cards I pulled, in this reading, I ended up getting most of the cards I pulled, but for a couple of the clarifiers, it totally slipped my mind. I get so caught up in messages, I forget sometimes, but thankfully, we're only missing a couple cards. Let's do it!

Tarot

Two of cups

Little bit of a soulmate confirmation here lol…we love to see it. There is a very easy flow to this relationship. I think in the beginning with their friendship, whatever one or both of them had to do before the romantic relationship started, may have caused a couple bumps in the road (personal and within the connection) but the minute it's 'official' and romantic love is confessed, it is a very harmonious and stable connection. Effortless and secure. Trust and loyalty. Picking up that nurturing aspect again, this will come before anything and will feel very natural.

The Empress

This soulmate has natural maternal instincts within them. That's not to say this person is definitely a mother or a female, I think these instincts are within them either way. They come off as very nurturing and humanitarian. They may be very well known for being very maternal and caring. I'm seeing someone at a house party, tidying up the bathroom after they use it lol. I think Harry and this person are bound to have a child/children together. We've talked about the healing aspects of this relationship and how there is a lot to heal here. One of them being outlooks on life. Before I began typing out this reading, I got an ask that was very similar to this energy. I think the soulmate may have grown up with distorted views on life. This may be hinting towards them possibly having a l more toxic home life. I think what they were taught about life, love, religion, culture, etc. may be a bit on the more close minded side, and whether or not they still believe those philosophies they were taught, there may be some guilt when going against them. As an example, their parents may have always encouraged them to get a "realistic" job when they wanted one that was more outlandish and "unrealistic" by society standards and there may be bit of guilt or hesitation when they want to begin projects or jobs that fall into the "unrealistic" category. I'm also seeing there could have been a bit of rebellion against organizations as they got older and away from the influences of their parents/ guardians, but still some "guilt' relating to past teachings. I think Harry will help them heal these distorted views and philosophies. As another example, if they open up to Harry about different teachings they were taught as a child and how that effected their views and guilt in their adult life, he may help them realize that their beliefs aren't wrong or to be looked down upon, they are just different from what they were taught at a young age. This will help give them a sense of freedom and relief.

The World

Something else that I've mentioned before-I do think these two will be quite the adventurous, traveling team. What I am also getting, is right at the start of their romantic relationship, it is going to be a complete clean slate for them. They would've gone through the majority of their transformations-there may be some more healing to do--but in terms of where they are in their life, I think they are going to be very open and very free. This feeling of openness and freeness is going to make them feel like they’re on top of the world and this connection is just gonna enable that even more. With that, I think they are going to grow, learn, and l explore about many different things together. I think traveling will play a big part in that. They're going to go explore new places and learn about different cultures and just be free to live life how they want. They're going to feel like they're in an entirely different body, an entirely different world, entirely different mindset and that's going to give them the urge to live life to the fullest.

Death

This relationship is just very freeing all around. I'm seeing a caterpillar going through metamorphosis and coming out as this l beautiful butterfly. It seems very 'too good to be true’ almost like something you'd see in a movie or a book. Something you'd see in a romcom. But I also think this energy is well deserved for the both of them. They have gone through a lot challenges and deserve a break. I think I've mentioned this before, but I believe Harry and this soulmate have a lot of past life connections and those may have been more simplified-in terms of the journey to their union-I think in this lifetime, they chose to shake things up a bit by making it more challenging. I think they have worked so hard to overcome those challenges, that this union is perfect and so freeing for them. Again with this freeing energy, it's just so powerful.

King of Pentacles

I do think that the union of these two will have a domino effect of many things-one being success in their careers or maybe a change in career-This union and this connection will cause both of their careers to take a wonderful path. That could involve gaining more financially, seeking out desired endeavors, etc. There is just an overwhelming sense of success in the career life. They may work together on some creative projects. We know Harry is very creative with his music career, him and his soulmate may be interested in similar creative mediums or they may be interested in different ones but will teach the other about what they know.

Eight of Swords-Reversed

When the Eight of Swords is upright, it represents being trapped. Reversed, it's representing freedom, new perspectives, and self acceptance. We have the obvious reoccurring theme of freedom. I'm also circling back to that feeling of a new start/clean slate. There's this feeling of re-birth, but this time we're leaving behind the toxicity and despair-this time we're practicing self love and knowing our worth. They will both have gone through tremendous self-love journeys, but this relationship will really be the cherry on top.

Oracle

Forgiving and Learning

The abundance and love in this relationship is really going to show these two what they lacked in past relationships. They are going to learn what they deserve in a relationship and what a real loving, strong relationship is. This is love like they have never felt, and there is going to be a perfect balance of give and take. This will also teach them that past connections weren't punishments, but more of them needing to learn and prepare for this relationship, and it's definitely worth the wait.

Release Your Ex

This could be a message for Harry, his soulmate, or both. I know we've talked about this soulmate's past toxic relationships and the possibility of some of those being romantic, so this could pertain to that. This could also just be the release of all past romantic entanglements for both of them--they are not needed anymore, it's just the two of them.

Retreat

These two may be the type of people to go off the grid for a bit. Again, this traveling energy is heavy. There may also be a time where at some stage in their romantic relationship, they may do a little retreat from the public eye. I don't think this is a relationship they will display to the world in general, especially in the very beginning, but I think there may be a time where Harry takes an extended break from the public eye-maybe to start a family? Unclear.

Playfulness

I'll let this card speak for itself: "to recapture romance, allow your youthful spirit of fun to shine"

That’s all for now!! Hope you enjoyed!! ✨🌙💙

[the-aro-ace-arrow-ace]

It's been snowing the past couple of days and i keep catching myself wander back to Five as a fellow c-ptsd haver, because it's so much more than just flashbacks

- Five with a complex relationship with his name, having days when he's thinking about choosing a different one, but just forgets about it and stays with "five"

- Feeling like he'll never really belong anywhere and everything is fleeting- Bad days when the intrusive thoughts can't seem to stop, and Klaus was holding that knife so close, with just one movement he could kill him, he could kill any of them, it would be so easy to kill himself, but shUT U P-

- Hyper aware of the fact he's physically younger than his siblings, with how most of them live and the unpredictability of life, he could be burying them the next day again

Hating being alone because it reminds him of the apocalypse, but feeling like he doesn't belong, so he's stuck in a loop

- Sick of losing his family and friends over and over again, with wanting to just make it stop, playing with suicidal ideation

- When the commission day memories are coming back, and he fully remembers *killed so many people*

- Struggling with insomnia and fearing to fall asleep because of the nightmares, sometimes sleep paralysis, when he can see nothing but the faces of people they made seconds before they died, and he can hear the pleading before the shot

- Can't stand the sound of heels against the floor, silence, and complete darkness

- Immediately distrustful to people the second they look at him with a studying expression

- Not remembering majority of his life, like most of it was covered in fog

- Starts to internally panic when anyone raises their voice around him (canon tho)

- Hates the cold and the snow, the dry and unforgiving heat, not really trusting the fireplace either

- Who talks to himself so often because he keeps forgetting others are there

- Angry his life was fucked over by a matter of seconds, and angry at the handler and his father for making him like this

- Getting teary eyes when hit by the realization he survived everything. His childhood. The commission. The apocalypses. He's seen so much, done so much, and he's still kicking.

- With extreme sense of shortened future, not knowing what to do because normally a human doesn't have a restart at 58, that's such a long time but he could die any minute because what if the brain is also that old and will fuck up the young body

- Who panics and blinks away the minute someone reminds him of the handler or his father, be it with clothing, features or mannerism

- Flinching at certain phrases and accents (especially posh london ones)

- Can't stand action and movies around the cold-war era, because of the destruction and bombs, reminding him of the 60s apocalypse, the commission and some cases his apocalypse

- Feeling guilty about leaving his siblings go trough so much shit from their father

- With depersonalization & derealization, or overall disociation, struggling with feeling real, because the body couldn't process it all before

- With memory issues and repressed memories coming back in the middle of the day

- Problems with actually feeling human and belonging somewhere

- Calling bs that someone wants to genuinely hang out with him

- Finally discovering hobbies and what he enjoys

- Feeling disgusted, or thrown off guard by people making gentle, kind or reassuring comments, because "have i gone so soft and bad that people take pity on me?", but hating it, because "they care about you, they're just checking up on you"

- Complex relationship with physical touch, wanting to make up for it, craving it, but hating it at first, slowly easing into it and opening up

- Once comfortable, never letting go of a hug first

- Who seeks happy endings in stories, because it gives hope that his life can turn out still bearable

- Rightfully pissed that he had no childhood and not much of a life either, making up for it now

- Struggling with eating and drinking because he forgets he has stable access to food and water

- Emotional flashbacks and numbing, but goes from 0 to 100 real quick upon sensing a threat

Ever so often slipping back into old apocalypse habits

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Rich!Phil (2) Masterlist

part one

American Psycho/American Beauty (ao3) - prettysweet

Summary: Dan, the new bad boy, who has been attending Phil’s high school for only a week has girls all over him and everyone knows he fucks girls almost everyday. Two weeks later Dan takes a liking for Phil. They fuck. Dan fucks other people. Phil doesn’t.

Bury Your Flame - botanistlester

Summary: After receiving a dragon egg when his grandfather passed away, Phil is forced to ask for help from the local dragon tamer. As he soon finds out, Dan Howell is nothing he’s been expecting. Infuriating, ludicrous, and completely lacking respect, Dan is everything Phil hates. But Phil will do anything to make his grandfather proud, even if that means getting help from the local cluck.

Crossing the Line (ao3) - dakogutin

Summary: After billionaire Phil Lester meets an unfortunate incident that ends him up in hospital with no memories, Dan Howell— a mistreated employee convinces Phil that he is Dan's working-class husband to get back at him with the many hardships he faced as an employee. What could go wrong?

Imagine Living Like a King One Day - pianodan

Summary: Southview Boarding School isn’t a castle and Phil Lester isn’t royalty, but he has everything. His father owns the school, he’s popular, has the best room, gets all the best treatment – there are very few things that aren’t handed to him on a platter. Dan is a cleaner/Phil’s personal maid there, and he isn’t as lucky. Everyone seems to take an aversion to the outsider, including Phil (at first).

Living is Easy with My Eyes Closed (ao3) - TheUKAmazingDan

Summary: September 19, 1976

Dan Howell liked pretty things and a pretty guy, but not the one who was interested in him. No, Dan was infatuated with someone he couldn't have.

based off of the Colors music video by Halsey.

Sail Away With Me - paradisobound

Summary: It was a fluke. Dan shouldn’t have ever gone with Sam to a party on a yacht. He shouldn’t have trusted her to go. But in a chance encounter, he ends up in bed with Phil Lester, a billionaire CEO of a luxury clothing company. When he thinks he’s screwed up enough, he realizes he’s in way too deep. Because Phil Lester has fallen in love with him. The catch: Dan gave Phil a fake name and all Phil has to remember Dan by is the tattoo on his hip and the necklace he left behind.

Sugar Daddy, Sugar Baby (ao3) - Spring_Haze

Summary: Dan Howell is a nineteen-year-old student who is going though the motions. He seeks guidance and companionship, finding it unexpectedly in Phil Lester, a millionaire filmmaker who happens to be seeking companionship and partnership. The two men enter into a consentual sugar relationship agreement that, over time, becomes much, much, more than paper.

Sweet Sugar Meeting - trysomecats

Summary: Rich CEO and businessman Phil Lester is fed up with being lonely, which is why he decides to become a sugar daddy. Dan ends up being the perfect candidate for a sugar baby. 

Take a Trip Into My Garden (Got So Much to Show You) (ao3) - thesassykels66

Summary: Daniel, a polite professional gardener, happens to be in love with someone he shouldn't be.

And his name is Philip.

The Mansion - trysomecats

Summary: Dan is oddly satisfied with his position as a servant for Phil Lester, until he finds out that Phil had originally bought him for things aside from housework. 

The Real Reason Why (ao3) - maytheday

Summary: The Howell family goes to Mrs. Lester's birthday party, where Dan meets a boy named Phil.

~~~~

bad summary (and title, really) but im proud of this one (at least i am rn) so you should read it maybe

The Starbucks Game (ao3) - aby55al (abyssa1)

Summary: Rich boy Phil puts an inappropriate word for his name at Starbucks and his barista Dan gets embarrassed having to say it. Then they have sex.

we’ll never be royals (extended) - phanimist

Summary: royalty au where phil's the kind handsome prince and dan's a poor commoner who dreams of becoming world class musician. phil's parents hold a ball so he can meet his suitors, but he ends up falling for the pianist instead.

[uselessidiotsquad]

Hello hi if you'd like to share some Mhonde fun facts (esp Mhonde x Raja ones) i think we'd all appreciate it

Little lucky guy sparks joy

Have a mound of Mhonde Facts! Sorry for this being a late reply, been busy.

He belongs to the College of Statics - while he loves new innovations, he prefers trying to perfect and solve old problems in new ways - not come up with stuff from scratch.

As the youngest of 6 siblings, didn't really have any choice but to be a well behaved progeny since all the easy tricks were done and ruined already by his older siblings.

He doesn't get along with a lot of Asura in that he thinks common decency and manners are more important than curiosity alone and discovery. Along a similar note, he's a fairly private person and is THE GUY you can trust with secrets. Steel-Trap Mhonde does not blab at all and actively looks down on gossipy types.

Mhonde tends to stick his tongue out when he's really thinking or working hard on something, it's just an automatic response. Though it does make for some rather amusing faces when others walk in to see him >:P! because he's focusing.

This isn't actually his first relationship, he had dated around a bit before but nothing really stuck, but there were no hard feelings either. He's still on good terms with many of them and they still work together on projects from time to time.

He and Raja are still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship and haven't really gone into the logistics of longer term prospects. They've decided they'll cross that bridge when they get to it and not ruin the now with future worries.

Mhonde is very expressive both with his facial features and with his ears alone and Raja has started to be able to pick up his body language even when he's being polite. Mainly, when dealing with people that frustrate him but he's still trying to be civil but the ears are screaming 'I'd love to drop you off the side of Rata Sum right now, with a lead parachute.' They can often have full conversations just with body language alone.

Mhonde is the only one among his family to be fully blonde! The rest of them are brunettes/light brown. Good ol' recessive genes.

He's also extremely giggly.

The Tiniest Beeb is almost the least gremlin in some ways of my kids! Calguais wins that. Mhonde isn't super mischievous or gremlin-ish. However, that doesn't mean he's not willing to be petty on occasion to those who deserve it. This primarily means sabotaging other Asuras projects after they made rude and lewd statements about his girlfriend. As a member of Statics, structural integrity is important to him. Especially when he knows which areas are likely to crumble and fall directly onto the complicated machinery of others. Interesting knowledge, that.

Mhonde does not like being picked up even by Raja and it embarrasses the daylights out of him. If he gets too embarrassed, he will cover his face and his ears will curl to try and hide his face too. She has learned this and will usually squat, kneel, or sit to talk with him instead of picking him up.

The two of them went to her designated shrine to Raven once - Mhonde not being too familiar with the Spirits. Raven chose not to come in person to give an audience but one of the birds flew and sat on Mhonde's head the whole time. They bother considered it a thumbs up of approval. He was very excited to see the bird use a stick to try and get a grub out of a log - because it was using new ideas to solve old problems too.

Mhonde has a habit of resting his chin in his hands and giving Raja puppy eyes or just an endearing stare but doesn't always want her to know - so he uses the fact that he's got almost no vision to be like 'Oh no, I was thinking and didn't realize you were there, sorry'. He knows. He did it on purpose and will again.

Holding hands has proven to be a bit challenging, so he'll often just prop his arm on his head at the elbow to be able to reach. It does look a little silly but it works!

And lastly, he has absolutely no interest in Pact or Big Scale events. He thinks the focus should be on the home front before it is on the global, which is where he helps out. Though the proton forge is his specialty, he is also a good architectural planner and engineer for solving more mundane issues like infrastructure, running water, and power.

[spicywhumper]

@febuwhump 2024: day 13. "you weren't supposed to get hurt".

series: crimson history | rating: mature | word count: 1,388

cw: implied/mentioned stepcest, non-con, child abuse, memory alteration & blood/gore-ish deaths.

Jennifer can't breath. this is not what was supposed to happen.

she has stopped trusting on her gut somewhere along the way, stopped trusting when that feeling on the back of her head became too annoying. if she ignored her instincts, she could ignore that there's something wrong with her. she could be soothed by the agency's healers telling her that the layer of magic on her Core is protective magic. it's traditional for magician parents to cast deeply rooted shields in their children, and her mother was her coven's Head Magician.

her stepsister escape was a bloodshed, guards tried to stop her and she killed each one of them. violently, tearing them apart like the feral devil she's supposed to be. paired with how it hapened five weeks after mom's death (death that was her stepsister's fault)...

the therapist said that haze, foggy, even completely gone memories was normal.

childhood in a coven is rough, Jennifer was only nineteen when half of her peers had their entrails scattered across the groud and their heads bashed beyond recognition.

her hands tremble, she spent the last three days reading journal after journal, scroll after scroll, given to her by one of few guards that survived her stepsister's  second escape. if sixteen year-old Jessica was feral, twenty-nine Jessica is destruction in human shape.

but as she reads and reads...

she'd be destruction too.

the first journal she opened, randomly, was a rough start. a random page from the time between Jessica's first escape and Jennifer leaving the coven. memory spells, intertwined with the shield, bound by mother's blood... by mother's sickness.

my daughter, blood of my blood, she's clever but she's emotional. she turned a blind eye, I noticed. she loves Jessica enough to care about her, to want her to be fine. she's selfish enough to ignore the signs so her heart isn't broken.

more selfish than she realizes, or it's easier to read my relationship with Jessica as favoring my stepdaughter. or she just doesn't know what Masters like to to with their Dogs.

written the night before, she turns the page:

a coven that prouds itself of bloodlines, that's what we are, and I was fool enough to think that Jessica wouldn't value bloodline like this. even after Jocelyn all but abandoned her to me, even as the only person that does love her is Jennifer.

but even the wise commit mistakes. Jocelyn's death has awaken something in her. the angry, bloodlusting devil that not even ten years of conditioning can tame. when I gave her the order of the next mission, when i told her to switch. something inhuman came out.

but not even the deepest hellfire can burn through the protections placed around the bunker.

when I came out, half of my guards had been ripped apart. the blood soaked throught the stones. and Jennifer was there, waiting for me. hands shaking, covered in blood, growling. that's why I coerced the strongest yet malleable werewolf I could find.

a shame werewolves have the urge to attack in close range. half-breds are still weakened by silver blades.

Jennifer feels the scar, the one dangerously close to her heart, sting. she had been told it was Jessica...

it's an easy decision, blood of my blood, spells casted on her by me are almost impossible to break. tampering with memories might work well, might turn her into a drooling vegetable.

my reputation is valuable enough.

after reading that, she thinks that's the worst thing that her mother would write. just to be proven wrong by the other entires, by the entries about... the Dog.

the training, the torture. Jennifer's brain is flooded by foggy images of Jessica. her muscular shape, looking much older than she actually is since she's barely more than a toddler. whippings, cuttings, used as a punch bag, burns.

and rape.

so much fucking rape.

Joan had considered Jessica mature enough at eleven (when Jessica easily looked sixteen, and it doesn't make anything better). Joan doesn't hold back any details about training her own god-dammed stepdaughter into a weapon and into a sex toy.

Jennifer almost throws up when that stupid spell  shows in her notes.

she needs to stop, and does throws up when she remembers that time she found the empty birth control pills. she throws up as she remember finding Jessica on the bathroom floor, bleeding and in pain. a few weeks after Jennifer accidentaly commented about the pills to mom, she didn't even noticed, back then, the connection.

she can't remember everything, but remembers enough.

and like a sadistic fool, she found Jessica and immedietly informed mother. the mysterious "straighjacket psycho" stopped her activities two days later.

three months ago.

three months ago Jennifer delivered Jessica back in the hands of the woman that abused, tortured and raped her.

just to be abused, tortured and raped all over again.

Jennifer steels herself and reads the more recent journals, the ones about that gap. they're all praising for Jennifer and joy for having her favorite warm fuckable body back. the last four entries are finally when Joan mentions the weapon side of what she used the "Dog" for.

Jennifer carefully hides the journals and the scrolls.

she sneaks into the HQ, they keep blood and hair samples of all their agents, including the ones currently inactive. like captain Caroline Fletcher. who was the one handling the "straightjacket psycho" case, went missing for almost two years. came back with zero memory of what happened at that time, but even healthier than before the Incident.

if Jennifer's gut is correct, Fletcher is her best be at finding Jessica. maybe she's not, maybe Fletcher doesn't know anything about Jessica, there's a chance Fletcher wasn't with Jessica during all that time (she recognize the magic, but it has been ten years). 

sleep deprived, exhausted, angry and disgusted: she self-banishes to the gamma-class safehouse.

"agent Morgan?" Fletcher asks, lowering the shotgun after recognizing her. "uh, hey, what's wrong?"

"have you seen Jessica?"

she frowns: "am I supposed to know who that is?"

she's not lying, she's genuinely confused. Jennifer, with a shaking hand, she grabs her phone and shows Fletcher the picture. the only picture she has. fifteen-year old Jessica smiling, an arm around Jennifer's neck and looking much, much happier than she actually was.

Fletched immedietly recognizes her.

"what-"

"have you seen her or not?"

"why?"

"because I need to know if she's fucking alive!"

"I'm notoriously hard to kill," she sounds almost the same. almost. raspier, raspier in the way Jennifer had hear multiple times: you can scream enough to damage your voice.

"Jessica," she breathes.

"people usually don't call me that."

"I-" she steps forward, Fletcher's on her way, ready to shoot if she moves too fast.

"stand down, little soldier," Fletcher huffs, but does what Jessica says. "yeah. I'm alive. what else do you need?"

"apologize," Jennifer keeps eye contact and kneels, she hears Fletcher small surprised noise. "I didn't- I didn't know. you weren't supposed to get hurt."

"a coven known for being bloodlust, for harsh punishment, for shaping children into ruthless soldiers. what you expected to happen to a deserter after over ten years?"

"they gave me Joan's journals," the nonchalant, almost mocking, posture changes to cold. to paralyzed cold Jennifer is familiar with, from every time someone knows she had been hurt. "I'm not- I'm not sure I knew back then. Joan messed with my memories. I didn't know when I... report your location."

"how you found me?"

"I'm on the SAR team, on the agency. I have access to recent blood samples."

"and?"

"healing with magic infuses blood with it, I recognized it. you hid well, took me two months to find you. took them three months to find a way to catch you."

Fletcher gasps, the realization that it was her blood that led to Jessica... to her being caught, clearly shocking her. Jessica notices, she focuses on her: "come here," she calls, gently, and Fletcher obeys. "you come here too, you look awful."

"I- but I-"

"just move your furry ass before I let you freeze out here."

a small smile forms on her face without even meaning to: that's still some of the girl she lost all that time ago.

[sowerrr]

The ‘cocooning’: A new clothing brand’s orgin story.

TW: depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation.

Hello! Hope you are having a great day. If you’re new, my name is Kennedy Harris, and I own the latest fashion brand: SOWER. In today’s article, I will discuss how the ‘cocooning’ was my most significant catalyst for starting SOWER. I will strive to answer questions like “What does SOWER mean?” “Did you even like fashion before the ‘cocooning’?” “What is the ‘cocooning,’ and why does it even matter to the brand’s creation?” So buckle up, get your tissues ready, and put on your blue light glasses, because this is gonna be an emotional one. Enjoy!

So now you might be asking: what was so crucial about sixth grade? Well, sixth grade was the first time that school did not come easy to me. I had just finished the best school year of my life (and that opinion still stands as I write to you in the 12th grade), and immediately once I entered middle school, I felt a very negative shift within myself. So many new changes were happening; I was going through some of the most pivotal changes that puberty had to offer, I was being separated from my peers, and, most notably, doing the schoolwork that my teachers gave me was actually hard.

These things led to a steady decline in my grades, and I couldn’t have been more distraught. Admittedly, I’m a bit competitive, so I wanted my grades to be high, and it felt like I was letting myself down. But, what really put the nail in the coffin for me was thinking that I was letting my family down, letting my mom down. And I couldn’t deal with that.

Anyway, before I knew it, my room was a mess, my sleeping patterns were ridiculous, I was exhausted all the time, and I cried every day after school. I knew that what was happening to me and around me wasn’t normal in the slightest. On top of that, I was also realizing that I didn’t trust anyone to know about this information. I thought that if I told my family how I was feeling, I would be burdening them, and I wouldn’t tell my “friends” because they were all gifted kids and seemed to be able to handle everything.

As I said before, I try to find ways to fix my problems, especially when I am in a bind and feel like I have no one else to turn to. So the first thing I figured was, “I need to earn money so I can get a therapist. And maybe, just maybe, I can go back to being my old self”. That goal wasn’t strong enough to rid me of my suicidal thoughts, however, and I continued my downward spiral. My grades were getting worse, my relationships were getting worse, my mom was expressing more and more disappointment in me, and I was getting closer and closer to the point of not being able to take it.

But one day, a particularly bad progress report graced my mother’s home screen. I had been lying to her about my grades. I mean, she still knew I was doing poorly, but she didn’t know that I was doing this poorly. And I thought to myself, “This is it; she’s going to give me a spanking.” I had never gotten a spanking before because of my good behavior and grades, and to think that my mother was finally going to give me one, really made me feel like I was a no-good, lowlife scum who was better off gone. I had finally driven the woman who meant most to me to the point of hitting me, of punishing me.

But she didn’t.

She gave me mercy. She believed in me and my ability to pull myself back up. And at that moment, when she told me that, I figured that I could do this, I could live for her. I can live, I should live, because someone actually believes in me. Once that was over, I started to hone in on finding a true purpose for myself instead of just living for my mother. I didn’t find it, however, until about the 7th grade.

I was still depressed during the seventh grade, so I couldn’t work on it in full force, but bit by bit, I started building a brand around the lemon drawing. I made descriptions for the first collections, I drew up a few sketches, and I could even vividly picture in my head how I wanted everything to go. I chose SOWER because it’s ‘power’ with an ‘s,’ and I thought it would be too on the nose to call the brand ‘sour.’ When the pandemic hit, I started taking SOWER more seriously by drawing up more mockups and establishing characters. Things were really starting to come together. However, the first year or so of me putting more force behind it didn’t bear any fruit. But I hope that this third year is really the charm!

Welp, that is all from me today! Hope you have a great rest of your day. Sorry, I didn’t get to talk about my new brand mascot today; I promise you that I’ll have all that information in my next article. Stay tuned!

Remember to be kind to yourself and accept yourself for everything you are and may be. Kennedy, signing off!

SUBSCRIBE TO THE EMAIL LIST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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[isuara-ez]

I’m sorry but if you don’t think the C2 endgame relationship were earned, or think they were regressions for the characters in any ways, I think you might have zero media literacy.

Fjord, and jester. Beau and Yasha, Caleb and Essek, are all relationships where the attraction was started for immature or unhealthy  reasons, that all matured over the course of the campaign into attraction for real tangible reasons.

Sure, Jester initially crushed on Fjord because he was tall handsome and fulfilled a fantasy of a chivalric knight, and tried to woo him like her mother would woo a client, but when it was clear that wasn’t working she stopped and just let herself be herself around Fjord, and that’s when he fell in love with her. If you don’t think there was real love there, go rewatch the pirate arc, and just everything after. It’s clearly built up.

And that’s the most straightforward of these arcs, yet the most commonly misrepresented by people who hate this really wholesome pair for very contrived reasons.

Beau and Yasha’s arc is a bit more complicated, but still pretty easy to follow. Because of how past relationships hurt her, Beau had been using sex as basically a pain killer. It was a tool for her, we see that very early on in the campaign. Her attraction to Yasha seems immature and purely physical, but then they fought along side each other day after day, and to quote Marisha, Beau formed a “crush forged in battle” and then, episode 69, Yasha fell under control of Obann, and suddenly Beau felt betrayed again, and realized she was having feelings she probably didn’t think she could anymore. It’s no coincidence that this is where she revealed she had feelings for Jester. She was finally able to Accept that she could have these feelings. When Yasha comes back Beau doesn’t trust her right away, but once she gets over it, she picks up right where they left off. And after everything Yasha had gone through, she probably hadn’t thought she’d ever love someone the way she loved Zuala. And here comes someone who spends months with you, fighting alongside you, flirting with and seemingly courting you, and then putting so much effort into a date to impress you, of course she fell in love with Beau.

Once Beau started to stop treating her attraction to Yasha as purely sexual and realized she had romantic feeling too, Yasha reciprocated.

And Caleb and Essek, I don’t see as much straight up misunderstandings about they’re arc so this’ll be shorter. Yes, the relationship starts out as toxic, they’re lying to each other to get what they want from each other, and Caleb is falling right back into his old habits, and Essek is much the same, attraction is a tool for these too. But just like the the mighty nein saved Caleb, they save Essek. And during the Aeor arc, they’re attraction to each other stops being a tool, and they build trust. Essek, see the people he loves in do much pain, and he weeps for them, because the mighty nein saved him, but not there, friend, who he thinks probably deserved it more. Then everything in the finale shows how Essek and Caleb have built a new relationship based on Trust.

There nothing wrong with preferring other ships over the canon ones, seriously you’re allowed to have head cannons, just stop trying to find a way to call the canon relationships problematic, rushed, unearned, out of character, or that it was “probably a business decision”

These are clear arcs, about maturity and healing. Sometimes love is messy, and I like seeing that reflected in fiction.