#//gotta sprinkle angst in somewhere I guess

[despairs-memorial]

💗 Relationships / lovers

💚 Friends / family members

Put both cause while they are technically yet..how about for the polycule! For whoever in the group you like

Putting this under the cut bc it's going to be long, but polycule talking time!!

Gundham

"To speak on the alliance that I have found myself in... the White Mage's presence has been astonishingly serene, though I suspect the She-Cat and Possessor of the Singularity is partially to blame for it. Her powers of healing have done much for me, especially after the power emitting from my demonic beasts have lacerated my mortal form.

"The Singularity's presence was promised to me for some time as the one that is my soul's companion. However, I admit that his presence has done much to make my very soul grow more grotesque. In time, I am sure that he will give me the power to truly achieve my goals of dominating this pathetic world!

"The Dark Queen is still my closest mortal companion, however. I entrust to her the arcane secrets that I hold closest while she shares with me her own findings. I am grateful to be with her in such a relationship. While I had assumed at first it would just be us... I was unaware of how fulfilling the pact between us would be with more.

"Tch.... the Tamer of Automatons... his very presence no longer grates on my nerves as they did before, though his incessant whining is less befitting of a mortal and more akin to a hellhound!" He sighs a moment. "Though... there are times when I believe we are able to reach understanding. Rare as they are, it does peak my interest."

-----

"The Angel is the only member of my clan that I hold dear, and it has been quite some time since she has recognized my presence. However, despite the loss of our relationship... I am grateful that she has found joy and sanctuary where she is now."

Sonia

"Where do I begin? I am deeply grateful to Mikan. While she is the only one that is able to withstand the power of the films that we both enjoy, it is wonderful that I am able to share this interest with someone else without fear of judgement or scaring her off. Though, her kindness and gentle nature is wonderful to experience. I am thankful to have her as a partner.

"Hajime resembles a hero of legend from Novoselic, though I believe he is even better than that. He is kind and understanding, and I am grateful for his patience and for taking the time to further my understanding of Japanese culture.

"The Overlord of Ice is the first person I felt I had ever had a full understanding with. His love of animals, confidence, and essentricities have charmed me for some time, and being in a relationship with him along with our other close companions has been nothing less than extravagant.

"Admittedly, I was hesitant to be involved with him, though with how much he has changed, I am believe that we have been able to reach an understanding. There are moments when he tests my patience more so than the others, but I am glad to be with him."

-----

"Perhaps they are too permissive, but my family are rather happy with me and continuing to uphold our family's name as I continue to remain in Japan. I can only hope that they will be happy with my partners once they are able to meet."

Kazuichi

"Uh... heh.. well, I-I never really imagined having a girlfriend, nevermind more than one and boyfriends, too, bu tthey're all really great. Mikan is always so sweet! She'll listen to me ramble for hours after I get hurt doing something, and she'll apologize to me and try to cheer me up in some way or another! Plus, i-it's great to have someone that can understand just how nervous I get all the time. Maybe it's bad when we're both freaked out, but th-that doesn't happen often enough to really be an issue, or at least I don't think anything is particularly wrong with it.

"Hajime's my fucking soul bro! I-I didn't think that he would be serious at all when he made those jokes before, but I'm kind of glad that those times thinking about it ended up coming true in a way! I-I'm actually a little surprised by how light he is sometimes. I can life him up, no problem and get him to help me with some things...

"I...I um... I still feel more than a little bad about how I treated Sonia before... I know I made her uncomfortable, and while I lose my fucking mind everyday over how she found it in her heart to forgive me for constantly screwing up with her and making her so upset... I-I'm still a little worried that I'll end up reminding her of it again, so I try to not be with her alone and with another one of our partners. I think it's helped a lot with our relationship, too.

"And speaking of another person I feel bad about... H-he mostly pisses me off still! How can he stand to act so high and mighty?! Even if he is tall, good looking, and a smooth talker, he's still one of the easiest out of all of us to fluster, and on top of that, he's started treating me like a damn dog and keeping shit to distract me! I-I mean, I don't dislike it, but... but... sh-shut up!"

----

"Family... um... that's not something that's great to talk about. My dad is kind of a bastard, but I still.. I don't know. I love him, but when he's pissed off, he'll beat me up, and I'll be out of commission for a day or two. Guess that's a benefit of dating a nurse, though, I don't have to worry about it messing with my schedule too much anymore!"

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Five Little Ducks

Fandom: DC Comics, Batman

Summary: Bruce finds a magically de-aged Jason.

Chapters: 9/13

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Zatanna Zatara

Additional Tags: De-Aged Jason Todd, Magic, Babysitting, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, POV Third Person, Bruce Wayne is Not Okay, Bruce Wayne Tries, Jason Todd Has Issues, Childhood Trauma, TW: Self Harm

Chapter Nine: Career Day

Jason swung his feet, still eating hotdogs. "Mr. Wayne?" Jason whispered.

"Want another hotdog?" Bruce asked. Jason shook his head. "You sure?"

"I'm alright... Can I still get more hot cocoa?" Jason asked.

"Of course, Jason. You okay?" Bruce replied. Jason shook his head. "Still scared?" Jason nodded. "That's okay... The adrenaline will wear off, and everything will slow down in your head."

"How do you know?" Jason asked.

Bruce took a breath and reached to mess up Jason's hair. Jason flinched away, and Bruce nodded. "Sorry, I forgot you weren't-." Bruce trailed off.

Jason looked down at his feet, and Bruce poured him another cup of cocoa. Steph returned with marshmallows from the other kitchen. "I knew we had chocolate marshmallows somewhere," Steph smiled. Jason smiled at her.

She sprayed whipped cream on top of his cocoa and sprinkled the marshmallows. "Jason, I gotta go," Steph whispered, "It was nice meeting you."

She opened her arms, and Jason hugged her. "Do you really have to go?" Jason whined.

Steph nodded. "Yeah, but you're in good hands... Be good," Steph whispered. Jason nodded. She left Jason alone with Bruce.

"Jason, are you sure you're full?" Bruce asked.

Jason nodded. "Are you gonna tell my mom about tonight?" Jason whispered.

Bruce shook his head. "Still feel shaky?" Bruce asked. Jason nodded. "Yeah... How about we go for a ride?"

"Okay... But I should probably finish-."

"You can eat in the car. I'll make you another hotdog and put your cocoa in a to-go cup... Unless you'd like to eat first. Sorry if I seem pushy," Bruce whispered. Jason shook his head.

"You're not pushy," Jason replied, "Do you get lonely in this house all by yourself?"

Bruce poured Jason's cocoa into a to-go cup. "Sometimes," Bruce answered. With a tilt of the head, Bruce realized Jason wasn't asking to make conversation. He genuinely cared. "Do you get lonely being an only child?"

Jason nodded. "But you're an only child too... You know what it's like," Jason replied.

"I suppose I do... Still, I'd like to hear about your experience. It's gotta be different now than it used to be," Bruce replied as he wrapped Jason's hotdog in deli paper. They walked to the car, and Bruce handed Jason his food. "Gotham's changed a lot from when I was a child. Crime's not as organized as it used to be. More innocent people getting hurt."

"I guess so... But I'm not scared of the crime. I'm-. Do you ever feel like everyone else has more life than you?" Jason questioned. Bruce furrowed his brow. "Like some people have everything... Huge families, the perfect house, the car-."

"The happiness?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah," Jason mumbled.

The sun rose over the horizon, and Jason shielded his eyes. Bruce pulled down the mirror on the passenger's side. "No one's life is perfect. Even if someone has all those things, they'll always need something else," Bruce replied, "But I get the sense of longing. What do you long for?"

"I wish I had somebody older than me around... Then I wouldn't be responsible for everything all the time. I guess that's selfish, though. I feel selfish for wishing it was someone else. People always say they wouldn't wish stuff on their worst enemies, but is it wrong to wish you had somebody to share things with? Even the bad stuff?" Jason questioned. Bruce nodded. "You probably think that's a terrible thing-."

"You have no idea how much I relate to everything you've said. I think that's been my sole motivation for everything I've done in the past decade or so... I want someone to share my experience with too. I think my second son understood that better than anyone," Bruce whispered. Jason smiled.

"Where is he?" Jason questioned.

"We hit a bump in the road... And things never seemed the same again. We couldn't fix things," Bruce replied, squeezing his knee to hold back tears.

"I hope you can patch things up with your son someday," Jason mumbled as he tapped Bruce's wrist, offering him a gentle hand. "I'm sorry that you can't talk to him right now..."

"Thank you, Jason," Bruce smiled. He glanced over at Jason, who'd quietly given way to tears. "What's the matter?"

"I'm sorry... I don't know why-. I do know why I'm crying... I don't wanna tell you. You'll think it's dumb," Jason cried as he wiped his face. Bruce pulled over.

"I don't think your feelings are dumb... Let me have it, Jason. What's got you so upset?" Bruce asked sweetly.

They stared at one another for a while, and Jason sniffed. "I'm jealous... And I don't wanna be," Jason murmured. Bruce messed up Jason's hair.

"We're sharing something right now, Jason. Maybe you can't take his place, but you can have a place of your own," Bruce whispered, "Would you like that while you're here? To have a space of your own?" Jason stared into Bruce's eyes, all glossy with tears, and nodded. Bruce smiled a gently reassuring smile.

"But what does that mean for me?" Jason asked.

"You're loved while you're here... You're seen while you're here... You're understood," Bruce explained. Jason smiled.

They drove through Gotham while Jason ate and drank, and Bruce glanced at him occasionally. "You know what?" Bruce asked. Jason made a soft noise. "Your smile is the best smile in Gotham."

Jason switched over to a sheepish grin and looked down at his feet. "Thank you," Jason answered weakly.

"It's true. I've never seen a happier smile," Bruce replied honestly, "Reminds me of my son's smile."

"Really?" Jason asked.

Bruce nodded. "Jason, you have your whole beautiful life ahead of you. I don't know what you wanna do, but I know you'll be great," Bruce reassured Jason. "What do you wanna do?"

"I wanna help people," Jason replied, "I wanna do something that makes people feel better... Just don't know how. Nobody's ever asked me that before."

"Not even at school?" Bruce questioned. Jason shook his head.

"Nuh-uh... I think the teachers are more worried about keeping us out of juvie," Jason replied. Bruce frowned. "Thanks for asking me, though... Now I can think about it."

"Glad it's on your mind now. I can't wait to see what you become," Bruce beamed.

[free-pool-trash]

dancing with our hands tied - peter maximoff

here it is you guys... the ✨very spicy✨ sequel to delicate which can be read here <3 (had to keep the rep song title theme going here)

please for the love of god let me know how this is I’ve never written smut before so please go crazy with the asks/comments/reblogs on this one I’d really appreciate it😩😓

word count: 4k 😳 (it’s not all smut dont get too excited)

warnings: +18 content, sexy times, unprotected wrap it before you tap it, swearing, i tried to keep vulgarity on a low level but i decided to just commit towards the end lmao, insinuation to sex from the beginning , some fluff and a tiny bit of angst sprinkled in there too, wandavision spoilers

You can definitely read this as a stand alone but it’ll make more sense if you read delicate first !! enjoy <3

masterlist

The days you spent in WestView had been tiring. Wanda seemed to be losing her composure with each day that passed, you watched how she became more and more skeptical of Peter and found yourself growing all the more anxious with the situation you’d run head first into. But, you were with Peter, your mind and his mind were free of Wanda’s influence and she’d been kind enough to appoint the pair of you your own house in the neighbourhood, a few doors down from her own, so, you couldn’t complain too much.

Today was a relatively quiet day, but you had a feeling that just meant you were in the calm before the storm. Tonight was, apparently, Halloween. Despite the fact that it was nowhere near October, you were more than happy to play along with Wanda’s over the top festivities.

Peter and Tommy had just zoomed into your and Peter’s bedroom, sporting matching outfits and excited expressions as they looked at you expectantly, “Well? What’d ya think?” Peter asked, motioning between himself and Tommy. The littlest speedster awaited your answer with wide, hopeful eyes, wanting validation from his cool uncle’s even cooler ‘friend’.

Yeah, you’d made out on Wanda’s couch but you still hadn’t addressed the question of where exactly your relationship stood. It felt as though the pair of you were both actively avoiding the awkward conversation, opting instead to simply fall into bed together every single night and completely disregard the boundaries of friendship in favour of hearing each other moaning until the early hours of the morning.

With a smile you let out a low whistle, “Looking good boys. I gotta say, Tommy, I think you’re outshining your uncle right now.”

You had to laugh when Tommy smirked triumphantly at Peter, “I told you she liked me more than you.” He boasted proudly and your laughs grew louder when Peter huffed angrily. He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his bottom lip out childishly.

“Y/n, tell him you like me more.” Peter demanded, again, childishly.

You only grinned, “No comment.” You told him airily, making your way to your closet and hesitantly pulling out the latex costume Wanda created for you off of the rail, holding it by the hanger skeptically.

It was Peter’s turn to let out a whistle when his eyes scanned the skimpy looking leotard suspended by the hanger. The fabric mimicked the design of Peter and Tommy’s outfits although it seemed Wanda had gone out of her way to make yours ever so slightly sexier. The leotard was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a silver lightning bolt ran through the light blue material. The only saving grace was the silver tights that hung from the hanger as well, at least you’d have some kind coverage. With one last peek into the closet, your eyes landed on a pair of white, knee high gogo boots.

“Christ…” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing at the thought of wearing the ensemble out in public, if it was cold tonight Wanda would be in for an aggressive telling off. With a deep sigh you turned to the two speedsters who were both staring at you, waiting for you to say something. “I guess we’re all gonna be matching tonight.”

“Sweet!” Tommy exclaimed while Peter only smirked. Peter, with a lot of effort, moved his attention from your costume to his nephew.

“Why don’t you go hang out with your brother for a while? I gotta talk to Y/n for a sec.” Tommy welcomed the suggestion, only nodding his head before he had sped out of your house and back to his own.

A gust of wind hit your face as Peter sped himself in front of you, the man didn’t hide his intentions as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him. Swaying his body against yours and bringing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck. He trailed his lips up your neck, sucking and nipping, smirking when you let out small noises of approval. When his lips reached the spot behind your ear, he gave a final, harsh suck which had your breath hitching and whining when he pulled away.

To be honest, you’d love to be able to call him your boyfriend and be certain that he thought of you as his girlfriend, but at the moment you were perfectly happy with whatever the fuck the two of you had going on if it meant you could keep feeling him against you like this.

“I cannot wait to see you wearing that.” He all but groaned against your ear, his voice deep and gravelly. The butterflies in your stomach went feral at his words and you had to pull your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from letting out a moan from his tone of voice alone, not to mention the fact that his crotch was pressed up against yours, he was excited to say the least.

Your hands slid up his chest and settled on either side of Peter’s neck, you gently pulled his head out from the crook of your nape and teasingly raised an eyebrow at him, “Maybe later I’ll let you help me get out of it.”

A wicked grin spread across his lips, he squeezed your hips in response, tugging you into him even further for some kind of relief then pressed his lips to yours briefly, murmuring against them, “That’s definitely a plan I can get behind.”

Giving him one last kiss, you pried his hands from your hips and pushed him away, “Alright, get lost I need to get ready.”

“Meet me at Wanda’s?” You nodded at his question, letting out a deep sigh you hadn’t noticed you’d been holding when he finally sped out of the room.

After a second of cooling down, you pulled on the outfit and you’d be the first to admit; Wanda knew what she was doing with this one. You looked incredible, albeit a little stupid in the costume, but still incredible.

When you made your way over to Wanda’s to meet up with the others, you let out a laugh seeing as Wanda was essentially wearing the same outfit as you, only with the added extras of a cape and gloves.

“Hey! Why are you dressed the same as Uncle P and Tommy?” Billy asked you curiously, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he glanced between you and Peter for answers. The speedster in question was smirking proudly, his arm finding a spot wrapped around your shoulder.

“Because she’s totally obsessed with me.” He lied with an over dramatic sigh, causing Tommy to laugh.

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs playfully before focusing your attention onto Wanda, “I think it’s safe to say that Wanda and I will be winning best couples costume.” Wanda gave you a knowing grin and a not at all subtle wink in response to your statement.

“Only the best for the best.” She replied, walking forward and linking her arm with yours, stealing you away from Peter who whined in protest, “Oh hush, you can have her back later.”

Telepathy definitely had its perks, one of those perks being you could tell there was more to Wanda than just being an evil puppeteer. The two of you got along extremely well, you were actually growing to see her as a friend. It helped that you knew her story, though. You sympathised with her, knowing full well that if you lost the love of your life you’d probably create a false reality to be with him too. You’d already followed him into a fake reality so you supposed it wasn’t really too much of a stretch to imagine yourself in Wanda’s position.

As the night went on, yourself, Wanda and Peter were sitting around in town square, the twins having run off somewhere. Tensions were high between the interreality siblings at the minute, Peter seemed to be having the time of his life getting on Wanda’s last nerve, poking and prodding at her lifestyle choices.

“Lay off, Pete.” You warned quietly, your stare serious as you felt Wanda becoming impatient with the mutant. Your breathing stopped for a moment and you let put a horrified gasp, your hand clapped over your mouth as you stared at the image in front of you.

Peter’s skin was grey, his eyes were milky and he was littered in what you could only assume to be bullet holes- he was dead- no, you realised as you caught Wanda’s pained expression, he was Pietro.

Wanda regained her composure after a few seconds but the sight of Peter dead was enough to shake you to your very core and you found yourself shaking where you stood.

You didn’t even have a chance to regain your composure before shit had hit the fan. It had happened in a blur, Billy and Tommy were frantic and worried about Vision being in trouble and next thing you knew Wanda was sending Peter flying with a ball of energy after he made a smartass comment about Vision not dying twice.

Quickly, you ran to Peter’s side, he was groaning in pain and looking up at you through squinted eyes, “What the hell was that all about?” He grumbled, hiding his head in your lap when you got down on your knees beside him.

With a sigh you let your body fold against his, wrapping your arms around him and letting your head rest against his shoulder, the image of him bleeding out still too fresh and real in your mind. You could berate him for his brash behaviour another time, for now though; you just needed him close.

“Come on, dumbass. Let’s get you home before you decide to cause more trouble.” You mumbled, pulling him up with you. Ignoring his whining while you led him home, your arm remained firmly around his waist the whole way despite the fact he’d recovered from the blast Wanda dealt him after only a few minutes.

When you got back to the house that Wanda had deemed yours upon your arrival, you finally allowed yourself to breathe. Peter was staring at you with a guilty expression as you released a heavy breath through your nose and shuffled into the kitchen, the heels of your boots scraping on the hardwood as you walked.

Like a lost puppy, Peter followed you. Once he reached you lent against the sink he wrapped his arms around you from behind. He knew you weren’t angry at him by the way your arms immediately moved to grip his and tug them tighter around you.

“You know, her real twin- Pietro… he died,” Peter’s face contorted in confusion when you began to speak, he listened with concern as he could already hear your voice beginning to shake, absentmindedly he caught himself tucking you closer against his chest. “For a second… you must have said something that hit a nerve but for a few seconds…” Your voice hitched and you shook your head in an attempt to knock the image out of your mind, though you had a feeling it would haunt you for as long as you lived. When Peter noticed you’d started chewing at your bottom lip, as you always did when something was causing you anxiety, he gently turned you around in his arms so that he could look at you, his arms remaining firmly around you, yours finding a place resting against his chest.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He cooed, his eyes very much alive and staring into yours.

Swallowing thickly you answered, “You looked like him. You were dead.” You told him quietly and he was sure the look of grief on your face, brought on by the thought of him dying, would haunt him for a lifetime.

Your eyes watered as you took in his face. Scanning every part of it, his brown eyes that made you melt, the dimples that could still be faintly seen even when he wasn’t smiling, the lips that took up the vast majority of your thoughts and that tiny furrow between his brows as he looked down at you with worry.

You loved him.

Of course, you’d known this for years. But you needed him to know, and even though you were already well aware the overwhelming feeling is mutual, you needed to hear him say it.

His thumb running under your eye pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He whispered softly, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb ran back and forth over your cheek bone. Your stomach flipped at the pet name and you nuzzled against his touch.

“Good. I don’t want to lose you ever again.” You confessed, looking up at him through your lashes fondly as his lips formed an almost sad smile.

Gently, he brought his lips down to meet yours, pouring his heart into the kiss, hoping it would make up for the turmoil he felt responsible for causing you. Too soon, he pulled away.

“Believe me, I’m never leaving your side. I mean come on, I’m without you for like three days and I end up being mind controlled by my sister who isn’t even my sister.” He chuckled out, a grin growing on his face as you began to smile too. He let his eyes close blissfully when you brushed your nose against his, a toothy smile on your face.

“You, Peter Maximoff, are completely hopeless.” You whispered through your smile as he opened his eyes to look at you. His own face sporting an adoring smile.

Your heart skipped a beat the second his next words passed through his smiling lips, “Without you, Y/n L/n, yes I am.” Within a second your arms were around his shoulders and your lips were moving frantically against his. Peter’s hands wasted no time in sliding down to your thighs, gripping them and propping you up onto the kitchen counter.

Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist and your hands got lost in his hair, keeping him as close as humanly possible while his lips migrated to your jaw.

An appreciative hum left your throat as he lapped at the underside of your jaw, leaving a mark before trailing his lips back to your mouth. His tongue licked at your bottom lip as he kissed you, moving it into your mouth the first chance he got. Peter moaned into your mouth when you gave his tongue a light suck.

You grinned at the sound and leaned your weight forward so you were primarily resting against his body, your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body, your ass barely resting on the counter by that point. Welcoming your movements, Peter’s hands glided up from your thighs to grip your ass and pull you from the counter completely.

He carried you clumsily through the halls of the house, bumping into furniture and pausing to press your body against walls, his eyes closed and lips never separating from yours. You were about a foot away from the stairs when you felt your back make contact with the plaster behind you, your chest heaving when Peter abandoned your lips in favour of littering wet kisses across your chest, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake.

You let your head fall back against the wall, enjoying the sensation of Peter nipping and licking at your skin, the man diving back to your neck as soon as he realised that your head thrown back made it entirely exposed to him. You released a breathy moan when his lips ghosted over a sensitive patch of skin, he moved his tongue frantically and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath hitting your bruised skin.

“Peter…” You whined when he pushed his crotch up against yours, pressing you further into the wall smirking against your neck when you called his name.

“Yes?” He asked teasingly, rutting his hips against yours once more, deliberately attempting to pull another moan from you, he obviously succeeded. His smirk broadened when you let out a huff and tugged his hair so he’d look at you.

Peter swore he was in heaven when his eyes met yours again, your face was red and your eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust as your chest heaved. He could’ve exploded on the spot when you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and looked at him innocently, all the while grinding your hips slowly and firmly against his. Peter clenched his jaw and let his eyes fall shut, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that you were pretty certain the area would have bruises come tomorrow. You were struggling to care about that though, focusing your energy on the man who had you pinned against the wall.

You brought your lips to Peter’s neck, repaying the favour, not detaching until you left a dark, albeit small, purple bruise on the underside of his jaw. Deciding to prolong the teasing for a little while longer you moved your lips up and let them hover by his ear and you began to let out soft little moans in response to his grinding, the action caused Peter’s movements to become more frantic and your lips to form in a smirk as you felt him hardening against you.

His breath was laboured when he murmured, “Let’s take this upstairs, yeah?” Before you could even answer he had sped the pair of you to the bedroom and you let your feet return to the floor.

As he stood in front of you, you took him in, swollen lips and Halloween hair completely tossed, not to mention the tent in his trousers that was very visible despite the layers of his costume. When your bodies collided again, it was a frenzy of hands, the both of you practically tearing the fabric off the other until you were in nothing but your underwear, kissing sloppily and stumbling towards the bed.

Peter’s lips attached to your chest again the second your back hit the mattress. He groped at your right breast while his tongue sucked on the other, swapping over before you pulled him back up to you.

The way he slotted between your legs and how his forehead rested on yours felt so perfect, you couldn’t help but grin.

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” He muttered between kisses against your lips, his hands kneading your breasts as he did.

You were practically dripping by the time his hand slid down your stomach and under the band of your underwear. For someone with super speed he was moving agonisingly slow at the moment, his hand rubbing languidly over your wet core while he swallowed your moans.

“Fuck- God, Peter please.” You whined, your hips bucking into his hand, desperate for more friction than he was giving you.

The sound of your voice, so needy for him, was all he needed before he was pulling your underwear off, tossing the thin material over his shoulder haphazardly and shimmying out of his own boxers, clumsily kicking them away from his ankles, earning a giggle from you.

When he kneeled on the bed between your bent and separated knees you sat yourself up, sliding one hand up his bare chest and resting it against his shoulder while the other slid downward, only stopping once it was wrapped around his shaft. Peter sucked in a harsh breath when your began pumping him softly, the man completely losing it when your thumb swiped over his tip collecting the precum that had gathered and using it to wet the length of his dick as you continued to fuck him with your hand.

As much as Peter was loving the image and feeling of you jacking him off, he knew if you carried on he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Still, he didn’t have the heart to pull your hand away when you were making him feel so good. His head found it’s favourite spot in the crook of your neck and he groaned out against the skin that was littered with little purple and red marks from his earlier work, which he’d be sure to admire later, “Shit, Y/n-“ He croaked through a moan, hands gripping your hips as he fought the urge he had to thrust into your hand, “M’not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that.” He groaned out, almost reluctantly, not truly wanting you to stop while simultaneously craving more.

You stopped your motions at his statement, giggling when he let out a strangled noise of disappointment at the sudden lack of pleasure. Doing the honours, you lined him up with your entrance, letting him take over when his lips connected with yours.

Peter gently pushed you back until your head was resting against your pillow and your back was flush with the mattress. His lips continued to mesh with yours as he pushed into you inch by inch until he bottomed out. The deep groan he released was music to your ears and your hands gripped his biceps when he began to thrust in and out.

A symphony of moans filled the room as Peter had managed to set a steady pace, trying his best not to let his mutation get the best of him, as much as he wanted to just go to town he was determined to make you feel as good as you made him feel and judging by the way your head was thrown back and his name fell from your lips like a prayer; he guessed he was doing an okay job.

In only a few minutes Peter had you gasping and clutching onto him like your life depended on it as he picked up speed, one of his hands reaching down between your bodies to rub your clit, his hips snapping against yours. Soon enough, you felt the pressure in your stomach release, your walls clenching around Peter’s dick as your back arched and you released around him. After only a few more staggered strokes, Peter moaned your name against your lips, finishing inside of you and thrusting lazily, riding out his high and subsequently helping you ride out yours.

You let out a blissful sigh when Peter pulled out and rolled over to lay on his back beside you, his chest heavy and his blonde hair sticking slightly against his forehead.

“That- that was awesome.” He mumbled, intertwining his fingers with yours, holding your hand by his side.

Over the last couple of nights you and Peter had, admittedly, ended up in a similar position but neither of you intended for it to happen. It’d usually start off innocently enough, with cuddling or just talking and then one of you would move in just that little bit closer and things would escalate. But there was something about this time that felt a lot more emotional than the few times before. “It was.” You agreed with an airy giggle, squeezing his hand affectionately.

A gust of air shook you from your haze. Peter had taken it upon himself to clean up the mess the pair of you had left between your legs, a pair of his boxers and one of his t-shirts now adorned your body matching him as he wore the same.

He was on his side facing you, his arms holding you against his chest securely the same way they had the night you’d shown up in WestView and urged him to kiss you. When he took you in, he kicked himself for missing out on so much of you for so long.

He was certain, one of these days he’d actually speak the three words that followed him around whenever he thought about you, but as he watched your eyes flutter closed, he decided the words would be best spoken some other time. He was well aware you already knew, just as he was well aware that you loved him, it needed to be said. Eventually, but not quite yet.

[thorne93]

History Repeats (Part 8)

Prompt: Life’s hard, right? Well throw in a not so great job, a broken heart, and chasing a pipe dream in LA. But could someone come along to make all the bad shit disappear? Or is he just another heartbreak waiting around the bend?

Warnings: language, drug addiction, alcohol addiction, angst/heartbreak, adult themes (??)

Word Count: 1874

Note: Aesthetic made by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​ because she’s absolutely amazing Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​ . Brainstorming from @carryonmyswansong​​

**Song Inspiration: Wanna Be by Betty Who

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

Living with Hayden proved to be nowhere near as daunting and scary as you thought it would be. At first, yes, there were a few bumps in the road. The laundry situation got a little confusing, the chores got a little mixed around, the groceries were nearly a catastrophe, but after a few weeks, the two of you finally had everything all sorted out.

Once the small discrepancies were sorted, he was a delight to have. Nothing changed about your friendship, in fact, it made it a little easier. Rather than figuring out whose place you would head to to hang out, or worrying about someone needing to get back somewhere in time for bed...None of that existed any more. You went to work, and reconvened at night when you got home. 

Sometimes he was still up, waiting for you with a leftover plate of dinner ready so you didn’t have to cook. Other times, he kept a plate set aside with a note telling you how exhausted he was and he was in bed. To you, the notes were sweet. A lot of guys would just text something like “going to bed. Dinner on the counter. Night” or “didn’t make dinner. You may need to grab something.” But not Hayden, he always put thought into it. 

His notes usually consisted of a wishful note on hoping your day went nicely, a comment or two on his own day, and a description of what he made for dinner. One night you came home to a bottle of wine and a piece of chocolate cake he set aside for you, after a particularly bad shift. The gesture had made your heart melt. Another night, you’d mentioned craving cheese so he made extra cheesy garlic bread with spaghetti. Another night, he surprised you with a few chocolate truffles and a can of coke since your head hurt, along with the aspirin already set out. If you weren’t careful, he was going to make you gain weight.

But you didn’t care. Hayden was so caring and sweet and attentive. You tried to repay the favor on days you were off by making him meals, surprising him with his favorite candy, or queuing up the next episode of whatever show you two were currently in the middle of. If he wasn’t feeling up for any of that, you’d freshen his sheets and room.  

And if you two weren’t trying to outdo each other on the level of kindness, you would sit and play cards or a board game. Sometimes you worked on your writing and he worked on lines. Sometimes you even helped each other. You read lines with him and he helped you come up with smoother choruses. 

Life couldn’t get much better for you. Jason was pretty much completely gone from your mind, your work seemed to be getting better and if it wasn’t, you always had Hayden to light it up for you. Hayden’s rent was already helping and he seemed happy to have a space to call his own. 

Now, you were out getting groceries for the week and Hayden was just getting off work. He sent you a text to ask for a couple more things and you made your way to getting them. You grabbed the last bit of stuff that he wanted, the stuff on your list, you checked out, and made your way home.

When you got there, you were surprised by what you found. 

“Hey, there’s...a little person here,” you noted as you got in the door with some of the bags of groceries.

You stepped inside and you saw Hayden crouched on the floor, talking to a two or three year old blonde little girl, playing with her hands and smiling at her. 

“Oh hey, you’re home!” Hayden noted as he looked up at you and grinned widely, taking your breath away as it always did. “And your arms are full of groceries. Let me help.” 

“Oh, no, you’re fine. Keep playing.”

He just rolled his eyes and walked past you out to the car to finish bringing in the bags. You sat them down and went over to the little girl, kneeling in front of her.  

“Hey there,” you greeted softly as she smiled at you and put her fingers in her mouth. “I’m Y/N. What’s your name?” 

Hayden just stepped in and put the bags down before joining you two. 

“This is Briar Rose,” he informed proudly as he gazed at her, then looked back at you. 

His introduction triggered in your head and the realization hit you. His daughter. This is the Briar Rose you two had spent so much time talking about. 

“Oh! Oh my god! This is Briar!” you gasped. “It’s so lovely to meet you,” you said as you took her hand and shook it and she grinned and giggled.

“Briar, this is my good friend, Y/N. She owns this big house that we’re playing in and she’s nice enough to let Daddy stay here,” he said, pretending to press a button on her stomach, making her giggle. “Isn’t that nice?” 

“Yeah,” she concurred, nodding, a happy grin on her face. 

“When did she get here?” you asked, surprised and excited. 

“An hour ago. Rachel dropped her off,” he informed, thrusting his head over his shoulder.

“Ah, gotcha,” you said, nodding, her name bringing up a bit of jealousy. “Well I’m gonna put the groceries up. I’ll make your dinner and get out of your way,” you said.

“Get out of our way?” he asked as you stood up and walked into the kitchen.

“Well, yeah? Don’t you want some bonding time with Briar? I don’t want to impose. I’ll just go to my room and chill or sing or something,” you responded, shrugging him off with a wave.

“What? No. I want you out here with us. I’d love for you to meet her and get to know her. I’m sure she’d really enjoy it too,” he assured.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. Go ahead and make lunch and I’ll get her changed so we can go to the park after.”

“Oh! Or I could make up a picnic lunch and we could take it with us!” you offered, excited beyond belief to be able to spend the day with a child, let alone Hayden’s little angel. 

“That’s perfect. I’ll meet you back out here in fifteen minutes?” he asked as he hoisted her up onto his hip.

“Yep!”

At that, he took off to his room to get her changed and probably get a to-go pack ready for her, meanwhile you set to work on a nutritious lunch a toddler could eat, as well as filling items for an adult.

As soon as you were all set up, the food, plates, and utensils ready, you met Hayden back near the front door, Briar on his lap. 

“I’ll drive, so you can have time with her,” you said with a gentle smile at his beautiful daughter. 

“Really?” he asked, astonished, his blue eyes searching yours.

“Yeah, of course,” you assured, smiling up at him. 

“Thank you. Let me just grab the car seat from my car and we’ll get going.”

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

The three of you shared a wonderful day at the park. It was in the high sixties, warm, with a low breeze. Briar played on just about everything and Hayden joined her ninety-percent of the time, pushing her on the swings, helping her on the jungle gym, putting her on the teeter-totter. You looked on with such awe. Hayden possessed every facet of a father to you - caring, nurturing, fun, involved. So long as he was with Briar, he was smiling and happy it seemed, and it warmed your soul.

He joined you back on the blanket you’d brought. 

“Why don’t you join us?” he asked, excited anticipation in his face and voice as he grabbed a cracker and cheese. 

“Nah, this is for you and Briar. I’m just here to watch.”

“Nonsense, come here,” he said, grabbing your hand and hoisting you up.

“Hayden, no! No, Hayden!” you said, laughing and pulling away from him. “I’m fine. Really!” you said, chuckling so hard your argument was futile. He eventually let go of your hand and grabbed you around the waist and pulled you over to the swings, sitting you down right beside Briar. 

“You gonna swing wiff me, Y/N?” Briar asked with a happy grin on her face as her little hands gripped the chains of the swings.

“I suppose I am. Your dad seems to insist,” you said, laughing up at him as he pushed you once on the swing. 

“You need to learn to let go, a little,” he said as he walked over to Briar. 

“Oh? Just a little?” you asked with heavy sarcasm.

“Yeah, just a little,” he repeated with a wink.

“Push, Daddy! Push! Higher!” Briar squealed and you reveled in watching the two of them before you suddenly got an idea and hopped up from the swing.

You stood in front of Briar and caught her swing as she was coming forward.

“What happening?” Briar said as she seemed curious, scared, and delighted all in one.

“I’m the tickle monster, and I’ve caught you in a trap. The only way to get out of it, is to give me the secret code word,” you said with a fake, silly, sinister look and voice. 

“No!” she squealed and laughed.

You slowly acted as if you were gonna tickle her, letting go of the swing with one arm, the other slowly going towards her side. 

“No!” she cried out again.

“You gotta give me the password, then!”

“Pwease?!” she said, giggling.

“Nope!” you said, your hand inching forward. “Guess again!”

“Pwetty pwease!”

“Almost,” you teased as your hand was almost to her pink jacket. 

“Pwetty pwease with sprinkles!”

“Yep!” you cheered. “Now hold on tight!” You waited to make sure she had a hold of the swing before letting it fall back to her father. She squealed and giggled the entire way back before he pushed her to you again, where you would grab her and pretend to drop her a few times, before actually letting her go. She seemed to love the thrill of the idea of falling. 

The three of you continued to play, and run, and chase, and laugh all over the park. By the end of it, Briar was asleep in her carseat on the way home, and it was already growing dark. 

Quietly, on the drive, you told Hayden, “I’m gonna make you dinner, but then I’m gonna go work on writing.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“No, I want to. I had a blast today. It was amazing. But I think you need time with your daughter.” You glanced back at her in the mirror. “I know how much you miss her, I don’t blame you. So you need to have some time with her though.”

“Yeah, we need to have our traditional night of watching Trolls together,” he mentioned fondly. 

“Dinner in bed, then,” you corrected lightly as you glanced to him and smiled, him returning it with a warm grin, melting your insides.

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

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History Repeats:

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[mirohtron]

Fanfic writer's tag !

i was tagged by my friend @floraljae :] it’s below the cut

1. What fandoms have you written for (but not currently)?

i used to write for bts when id JUST started getting into writing. i never published it bc i hadnt heard of wattpad at the time i think. it’s all lost now so ://

2. What fandoms are you currently writing for?

original work ig ?? i am also writing for skz atm but the progress is so s l o w ...

3. How long have you been writing for?

i’ve been writing since hmm i think i’d say march 2019? or december 2018 im not that sure but i did start taking it seriously around june 2019 that’s when i made my wattpad account and posted poison paradise there

4. On which platforms do you post your stories?

i used to write on wattpad but then it downgraded . heavily . i still post my writing there, but im more active on tumblr, and i post on here and ao3 and wattpad bc yes

5. What's your favourite genre to write?

it’s actually a mix of sci-fi and fantasy !! i also like peppering in a little bit of slice of life :] i’ve been writing more non-magical universes lately but god you Need to know the world building of my first book, poison paradise. yes this is my hubris speaking but it’s So interesting bc there’s lore from multiple universes

6. Are you a pantser or a planner?

it’s both actually. i write from the get-go but for projects i take v seriously like julian and koa, i tend to plan a Lot more. honestly julian and koa is very fleshed out, enough for me to start writing, but the plot needs more work and so does a story in the same universe and city and neighbourhood as it, bambi. also im p sure im not writing it bc i suck at long stories, but u didnt hear that

7. One shot or multi chapter?

multi-chapter actually! oneshots do go with my incompetence tho lmao but i like multi-chapters :) they’re so fun and there’s so much room to see the characters grow. most of my original stories which i take seriously are multi-chaptered

8. What is a perfect length chapter in your opinion ?

it depends honestly. i dont mind a book with varying chapter lengths, because character arcs take different time periods to start and complete, and certain scenes should be left short, and also the reader needs a break with short chapters sometimes so their mind can pick up on what’s still happening. anywhere from 500 words to 2-3k words is perfect for me as long as the chapter feels like a good one as it is

9. What is your longest published story?

im . not sure actually i think it’s lonely? on tumblr i mean and if you count the second part. on wattpad my longest couldve been poison paradise maybe, but it’s unpublished atm bc it needs a character and plot based revamp but like i keep forgetting that lmao

10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?

probably this tbh villain was fun to write but i cant be sure lmaoo

11. Favourite request you have written and why?

OOO definitely the second part of lonely !! i wrote lonely when i was touch starved and the positive feedback it got was so nice :”)) i did kind of struggle with writing the second part but i struggle with writing requested second parts in general (i like requests okay im just incompetent). im happy w how it turned out tho :]

12. Are there reoccurring themes in your stories?

probably yes and probably angst lmao i love sprinkling in that pain. also idk if this is a theme but probably like . hmm i guess characters noticing little things in the person they’re focusing on/object of affection? like little details i guess. yes.

13. Current number of wips?

ten and more if you count my google docs lmaoooo help me please.

14. Three things you have noticed in your writing?

1) i have never ever had a point in which any of my works have been 100% angst-free. there’s gotta be angst somewhere

2) at least one (1) person has shit parents

3) Everybody is Not cishetallo. koa’s agender. julian’s demisexual. roommates!minho is demisexual. roommates!hyunjin is asexual. i think a portion of my characters (fanfic ones not included) being ace-spec has 2 do w me unconsciously projecting my ace-specness onto them but hey! now i know im aegosexual. that’s fun. the flag’s funky too i love it here u guys

15. A quote you like from a published story.

The hero glared. There it was, the defiance. There for the villain to chew up like popcorn, kept crushed between their teeth where it should be.

the villain’s sUCH a creep i cant KWJRKWJGRKJ

16. A quote from an unpublished story.

WAIT WAIT WAIT LMFAO OKAY SO I WAS GOING THROUGH TBIS ONE THING FOR THIS RIGHT AND THEN I SEE THIS

LEE FELIX [allosexual doesnt feel sexy fucky feelings much tho idk huge romantic tho crushes on ppl easily. perhaps bisexual . because i project. [...]]

IM SCREAMING I WAS PROJECTING SO HARD 😭😭😭😭😭

ALSO I FOUND THIS

YANG JEONGIN [demisexual ?? asexual ??? IM CONFUSED FOR HIM ???????? [...]]

character outlining for your first skz fic is always so fun

anyway this is the quote

"With all due respect if you don't leave us in five seconds I will be forced to rap Super Bass until you want to tear your ears out, my good sir."

17. A space to say something to your readers.

im very grateful to have u guys :) does this sound pretentious or stuck up im so sorry 😭 i hope my stories make you happy tho ! (or sad. depends on my goal. i still hope my goal is achieved tho) i appreciate every note or comment or reblog i get on my story, and tbh im pretty sure every writer does. i love u pls take care of urself drink some water im proud of you ok??? 

tagging anybody who wants to join :]

[lilxmcrtes]

“plots please”

3 ( or more ) interesting plots / relationships / connections I can think of for our muses | @thornstocutyouwith | Mun

[ ☆ ] ~ You want even MORE plots? :O With me?? ;u; Alright here goes...

1. Eira does know about magic and aliens and supernatural type stuff, etc. She’s actually part of some agency that tries to keep the peace between all that and the humans. Which of course really just means keeping an eye on them and snooping. Secrets and all that good stuff. She just pretends not to know. Being a conflict of interest, she’s forced to break up with Tancred. ( Would be a much better explanation... ) Then it turns out she needs to protect him because he’s being targeted. He’s supposed to do an important thing or maybe old enemies want revenge. Or maybe he already did a thing that set something off and now he’s the only one that can fix it. Point is, people want him ded :))) Sprinkle in tension of a secret war approaching and angst of being together but not together and finding out things about each other they had no idea about. I sense Wormwood fits somewhere in here... Oo and Aeron could get kidnapped so they gotta get him out along the way ( even tho she’s supposed to focus on Tancred only ). Oh Tancred could not want to and she forces him to come with her. But then Tancred gets taken so she has to pick between them, probably being close to getting Aeron or losing that to get Tancred. Poor Tancred is gonna deserve a lot of apologies for that. Cuz why not give her more reasons to be sorry to him? Not sure what other muses could get involved. Maybe Adom when Aeron gets taken. Adom could get hurt and left for ded ( yet again LOL ) or taken with him ( probably the longer option ) to be tortured so Aeron will give up Eira’s location ( THAT HE DOESN’T KNOW ) to find Tancred. Pre!Oliver could be involved. Ooo sending assassin!Lief? Cuz Tancred could expose his dirty work at the lab ( people like Lief )

2. Multiverse shit. There’s a lead on a body compatible to Bray and Tancred meets Eira in her mutant verse. He calls her Eira and freaks her out because no one calls her that unless they really know her. He explains what’s up and she calms down. The body he’s looking for has a fragment of the M.ind S.tone which I guess allows Bray to hop into that body idk. She offers to help since she’s already looking for her brother so she’ll ask Roman for info that’d be helpful. That actually helps ( somehow ) to finding her brother and what he’s up to. Not good stuff. Then, BIG REVEAL, it’s EIRA’S body that is compatible for Bray since she has a fragment lodged in her brain. Before they can even talk about whether he’s actually going to do anything with that information, her assassin persona, Angel, wakes up as a self preservation thing, attacking him. Puts him in a pretty bad spot. He’s in the hospital and not getting better so Eira goes to this universe’s Tancred for help. Meanwhile getting hunted down because now she knows things like about Angel so she got rid of her headband ( how she can be controlled remotely ) and starts taking suppression medication instead. Though as it turns out this universe’s Tancred has been trying to track her down too because he knows she’s compatible for Bray. They make a deal. He’ll help the visiting Tancred and she’ll give herself up. But having two Tancred’s in close vicinity is BAD. Maybe Tancred was just waking up or maybe he did need help but either way it doesn’t matter cuz it’s gonna be for nothing if they don’t part ways immediately. I’m at a loss for how other muses would fit into this rn but I’m sure there’s something

3. P.rodigal S.on AU ( bc of course lol ) ft. Adom as Malcolm, Oliver from his detective AU?, Aeron who was a suspect and it turned out to be Jace who may or may not have killed Eira ( they’re looking for her ). Maybe Asher is having fun and causing chaos. And / Or Killian.

4. Tripp and Asher. There’s something there. I know there is. Idk what it is yet exactly but my angy boi 2.0 and the Demon of Wrath. Come on.

Bonus: Max ( even tho he’s on my sideblog umbriis ) and Lief. Since he’s dating Riley now, it’s the perfect time to mistake Lief for Riley. Or!! Diego mistakes Riley as Klaus and sees them together and thinks he’s Klaus’ new boyfriend

[a-splash-of-stucky]

Priorities | Two

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky breaks his promise. 

Warnings: Implied smut, nudity, language. Angst. The ‘baby talk’

Word Count: 3.2k

Notes: Written for @buckyofthemyscira‘s 5k Disney Writing Challenge.

I said the angst would get worse and it does! Brace yourselves :D

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist | Tags are open, add yourself here

“Let’s have a baby,” says Bucky.

You’re about five minutes post-orgasm, still trying to catch your breath and calm your galloping heart, so it takes a few seconds for your brain to actually register and process what he’s just said. You lift your head from where it’s pillowed on his chest and look at him through narrowed eyes.

“You wanna what-now?”

“A baby,” he repeats, as he rolls onto his side, forcing you to scoot back and give him some space.  Bucky slings an arm over your waist loosely, fingers idly tracing the bare skin at the small of your back. You prop your head up one elbow so that you can look at him properly.

“Why?” you ask.

Bucky shrugs. “Maybe ‘cause we’ve been married for almost two years? I dunno, I just feel like...we’re in a good position financially, Tony’s all but guaranteed me a promotion, your business is thriving — maybe it’s time, y’know?”

You bite your lip as you mull over his words, not yet convinced. “I dunno,” you mumble, “Having a kid is a pretty big commitment.”

“I know, but—we’re in a good place, aren’t we?” he asks, shifting forward to press his forehead to yours.

“I guess so,” you reply hesitantly. “I just...I need some time to think about this, okay? I want that with you, don’t get me wrong but...I’m not sure if I’m ready, yet.”

Bucky smiles at you, soft and tender. For a moment, he looks exactly like the boy you fell in love with, all those years ago. “Of course, honey,” he murmurs, bending to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’m not saying we gotta do it now — whenever you’re ready, doll. It’s no rush.”

You flash him a smile in return, and pray that he won’t see past the mask that you’ve painted on your face.

Sensing that the conversation is over, you slump into the pillows, groaning in relief as you stretch out your pleasantly-exhausted muscles. Bucky rumbles low in his chest as he slides his hands down your naked back, stopping to cup the swell of your ass.

“Maybe...maybe we could start practicing, though?” he asks hopefully.

You bark out a laugh as you turn to glare at him playfully. “You’re insatiable, Mr Barnes,” you tease.

“Can’t help it, when I’ve got such a pretty wife,” he replies, moving to cage you in with his forearms, forcing you to roll onto your back. You hum as you loop your hands over his neck and tangle your fingers through his hair, bringing him in for a filthy kiss.

“Perhaps you should try your best to convince me — I might make up my mind, sooner,” you say huskily, as you nose along his stubbled jaw.

Bucky pulls back, eyes dark with lust and gleaming with promise. “Challenge accepted, sweetheart.”

—

a-sprinkle-of-sunshine posted at 2.36PM: Kids??

I know I don’t usually make posts on a Sunday, but something’s just happened and I’d really like some advice.

In my last post, I talked about the current status of my marriage (btw, many thanks to everyone who left a supportive comment/piece of advice!). Today, I’d like to share with you a further development.

This morning, my husband brought up the subject of children. Specifically, he brought up the subject of us having children. Basically, hubby said that he wanted to have them. I should also say that he wasn’t in any way pressuring me to have them soon, which I appreciate.

Why am I telling you this?

Well, you all know that I’d like to have some children of my own, one day. I want to raise kids with him, but I do have some reservations.

A friend of mine sent me an interesting article a couple of weeks ago (link), which it got me thinking. From observing my friends and acquaintances, I think that this is an issue that applies to many of us in long-term heterosexual relationships.

So many women are basically “married single mothers”. They’re single mothers, despite having a husband or male s/o at home.

Let’s assume that mom and dad are both working (as is the case for hubby and I). In most families, when dad comes home, he puts his feet up on the table and chills out by playing on his Xbox or phone or whatever. He doesn’t offer to help with the dishes, he’s not cooking dinner, he’s literally just sitting there. Sometimes, dad doesn’t even come home until it’s almost midnight.  

Meanwhile, mom’s there trying to make sure that dinner’s on the table, that the kids have done their homework, that they’re doing okay in school, that they’ve packed their bags for the next day — looking after the kids, basically. My point is, in most heterosexual families as I’ve described, there’s a clear gender split in terms of child-raising responsibilities.

I don’t want that. Yes, even though I work from home and could devote a lot of time to child-upbringing, that’s not what I want. I want my husband and I to raise a child together, to have equal responsibility, to share the burdens and joys. I don’t want my children to see my husband as a stranger, y’know?

But, with the way that hubby is getting busier and busier by the day, well — I think it’s quite likely that, if we have kids, I’m gonna end up as a married single mom. In my heart of hearts, I believe that our marriage will suffer if we have a baby now. I’m scared that my husband won’t be there to watch them grow up

I know, I know — I NEED TO TALK THIS OUT WITH HIM, and I will, I promise. I’m just...I don’t know what I’m gonna say. I need to think about it, for a bit.

Anyway. Any and all advice on this matter would be much appreciated, especially if you’ve been through a similar situation.

—

Sundays are for chilling out, but apparently, Bucky didn’t get that memo.

You’ve been trying to get him out of the house all day, to no avail. The two of you had rolled out of bed at around lunchtime and, after sharing a long shower, had wandered to the kitchen to cook up some pasta. In the middle of your meal, Bucky had gotten a call from Tony, which was filled with clipped sentences and terse voices. Since then, he’s stationed himself at the kitchen island, laptop open and papers spread out in front of him, frantically making last-minute changes to his designs.

“I’m sorry, honey — maybe later?” he’d said, when you’d suggested going out for a walk.

“Sweetie, I’m busy right now, I’m sorry,” he’d said an hour later, when you’d asked him if he wanted to watch a movie with you.

“Sorry, doll, this code’s got a major bug in it, I gotta try and sort it out, I can’t go right now,” he’d said, when you’d asked if he wanted to go somewhere for dinner.

You want to scream at him in frustration.

You know that you need to confront this issue sooner rather than later, but you don’t have the strength to deal with it right now. After ordering dinner from a nearby Chinese takeout place, you curl up in front of the TV for — yet another — quiet night in, alone. The fact that you’re having dinner by yourself is kind of ridiculous, given that your husband is literally sat twenty feet away from you.

Since you’re not getting much company from Bucky tonight, you decide to head to bed early.

You sigh as you curl up on your side of the king-sized mattress, frustrated by the fact that your husband just — doesn’t seem to have time for you, anymore. A part of you feels guilty for being angry at Bucky, given that he’s only working so hard so that he can save up more money and give you a good life. Nonetheless, you can’t help thinking that there must be a limit to how much he should be working.

It takes two to have a marriage, after all.

You lie in bed, dozing in and out of dreams whilst you wait for your husband to call it a night. Sometime after eleven, you’re awoken from your light slumber by the feeling of the bed dipping with Bucky’s weight as he climbs in. He presses a kiss to your temple as he slides under the covers and curls himself around your back, slipping an arm around your waist to pull you closer. You reach back to give his hip an affectionate squeeze.

“Hey, doll, sorry — didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers.

“S’okay,” you mumble sleepily. “You got your work done?”

“Yeah,” he replies, burying his face against the back of your neck. “Sorry our Sunday got ruined, though. Tell you what — my schedule’s free on Tuesday evening, why don’t I make a reservation at Giovanni’s and take you out for dinner, huh?”

You hum in agreement, lacing your fingers with Bucky’s where they lie over your stomach. “M’kay,” you murmur, “G’night, Buck.”

“Sweet dreams, doll.”

—

When Tuesday evening rolls around, you find yourself sitting at your dressing table, putting the finishing touches to your eye makeup.

You’re in a good mood, today — you had a productive meeting with Peter earlier this afternoon, and he’d gone away promising to look into some of the problems that you’ve been having with your website. Your supplier has gotten back to you with a reasonable price quote for the limited edition notebooks that you’re selling for autumn/winter, and you’ve scheduled the blog post that’s supposed to go up tomorrow.

All in all, a fulfilling day.

Despite being buoyed by your high spirits, there’s a lingering seed of worry in your gut. Your reservation for Giovanni’s is at seven, and Bucky still hasn’t texted you to say that he’s left work, even though it’s already half-past six.

You’ve dressed up nicely for the occasion, putting on a blue dress that compliments your skin tone and fits your body perfectly. You’ve paired the dress with some strappy heels, and have put a little extra effort into your hair and makeup too.

Your phone rings just as you’re swiping on your lipstick.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky says breathlessly. “I just checked the time.”

“Are you on the way?”

“Uh...no,” he says slowly, “I’m still tied up at work.”

You set your tube of lipstick down on your vanity, his sentence settling in like a boulder at the bottom of your stomach.

Of course he’d say that. Of course he’d have to go and ruin what was otherwise a good day.

“You’re coming home late?” you ask, voice a little shaky.

Bucky sighs. “Yeah, honey. I really can’t wriggle my way out of this one.”

You purse your lips. “Okay. I understand.”

“You do?” Bucky asks, sounding relieved.

“Yeah, of course. Your work’s more important than your wife, I see that,” you say sharply. It’s a low blow, but you’re pissed off, and you want your words to wound him deeply, just as he has hurt you.

His sharp inhale on the other end of the line tells you that you’ve achieved your goal.

“No, sweetie, c’mon, just try to understand what I’m—”

“No, you try and understand how I’m feeling, James,” you hiss, fighting to hold back the hot tears of anger brimming in the corners of your eyes. “Am I not — important to you?”

“No,” he says fiercely, “Sweetheart, don’t think like that, I’m just making sure that when we have kids—”

“Oh, when?” you say angrily, “It’s a ‘when’, now? We’re having kids, that’s confirmed, is it? Are you even gonna be there to watch them grow up?”

Bucky exhales harshly. “Honey, we’re not having this conversation on the phone—”

“No? Then when the fuck are we gonna have it, James Buchanan? Hmm? Because you’re hardly ever home, and even when you are, you’re too busy thinking about work to listen to me, anyway.”

“Doll—”

“No, don’t fucking ‘doll’ me. I just—just whatever,” you sigh tiredly, as you scrub your hand over your face, the fight suddenly bleeding out of your system. You’re tired of this. You don’t want to deal with this shit anymore.

“Our reservation’s at seven,” you say, “I gotta go, or I’ll be late. Bye.”

You hang up before he gets a chance to reply.  

You want to hurl your phone against the wall. You want to scream and shout and tear your hair out. You want to rip this fucking dress to shreds, all because of Bucky. He’s just so — ugh.

With an exasperated harumph, you turn back to the mirror and fish a tissue out of your makeup bag, using it to dab at your eyes. You won’t cry, right now; Bucky’s not worth your tears. You finish putting on your lipstick, spritz on a little more hairspray, then pick up your purse and flick off the bedroom lights.

Bucky might not be coming on this date night, but you might as well treat yourself. God knows you deserve it.

On impulse, you pull out your phone and speed dial Wanda. Natasha’s on a business trip to Milan this week, so she won’t be able to join you, but you haven’t caught up with Wanda for a while — this might be a good way to salvage a bad situation. You’ve known Wanda since high-school, and you consider her to be one of your closest friends.

“Hello?” she answers, after a few rings.

“Hey, it’s me,” you say, “Listen, I know this is kinda random, but are you busy tonight?”

“Uh...like now? No, why?”

“You wanna go out for dinner with me?”

“Uh...Wait, like now now? Where? Why?”

“Giovanni’s, and I’ll tell you why when we get there.”

Wanda pauses as she thinks over your offer. “Yeah, why not, they’ve got good wine — lemme just text Vis and I’ll be right over, ‘kay?”

“Cool. Reservation’s for seven, under the name ‘Barnes’.”

“Okay. See you in a bit.”

—

“So, you gonna tell me what this is about?” Wanda asks, as the server clears your menus and re-fills your wine glasses. “You’re all dressed up, but I have a feeling that that’s not for me.”

“Bucky was supposed to take me out on a date,” you reply, as you take a sip of your wine.

“And? What happened?”

You shrug your shoulders indifferently. “He got caught up at work.”

Wanda leans back, folding her arms across her chest as she looks at you critically. She’s wearing a black shift dress, and has piled her long brown hair into a loose bun on top of her head. In addition to her favourite lace choker, she’s also wearing her signature dark lip and smoky eye-liner.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there somewhere. You’re not telling me something,” she says, after a long pause.

You chew on your lip hesitantly as you fiddle with the edge of your napkin. “It’s nothing, just—we kinda had a fight over the phone.”

Wanda clicks her tongue sympathetically as she leans forward to rest her elbows on the table. “What was it about?”

You shake your head, unwilling to talk about the fight when it’s still so fresh in your mind. “It’s nothing, forget about it.”

Wanda arches an eyebrow, clearly displeased by the fact that you’re bottling up your emotions. “I mean...if it was actually nothing, I wouldn’t be here right now, would I? Something’s clearly up. C’mon. Spill.”

You sigh, internally admitting defeat. “Well...okay. He’s been working on this big project, and — uh...actually, it’s not just that.”

She waits patiently as you try to find the right words.

“He’s busier lately...like, a lot busier. It’s been getting worse the last few months, but it all started about a year ago, I’d say. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for him, and I know that he’s doing this for both of us, but—I feel like I’m not the most important thing in his life anymore.”

You huff dryly. “That seems ridiculous to say, ‘cause if you think about it, he’s working so hard because he wants to give us a good life, but...I feel like he went and did this without me, y’know? Without talking to me, I mean. Like, I don’t need a fancy house with a backyard and a garden and whatever — I just want my husband, at home, with me.”

Wanda nods sagely. “He’s doing what he thinks is best, which — fair enough, that’s great, but that’s not necessarily what you want or need from him.”

“Exactly.”

Wanda hums thoughtfully as she takes a sip of her wine. “Sounds like you guys need to have a heart-to-heart.”

“I know, but he’s never home!” you whine, “How am I supposed to talk to him if he isn’t there for me to talk to?”

Wanda sighs as she shakes her head. “I dunno, babe, I can’t help you there.”

“I know you can’t,” you sigh, “It’s okay, we just need to work things out between us.”

She nods in agreement. “So was this date night supposed to be his way of making things up to you?” she asks.

“No. Well — kinda. He was busy doing work on Sunday, and he said he’d take me out tonight, but, well. I guess that didn’t happen, huh?”

“So that’s why you had a fight?”

“Basically,” you reply. Just then, the server comes over with your food. You get one whiff of the fragrant, delicious smell and already, your stomach rumbles in anticipation.

“Well, babe,” Wanda says, as she digs into her pasta, “If you ever need a place to stay — like, if you need to be away from him for a while or whatever, you’re always welcome to use our spare room.”

You smile at her gratefully. “Thanks, Wan. I hope I won’t need to, but thank you for the offer.”

“No probs. Are we getting dessert after?”

“Sure, why not. I’m paying for this using his card anyway, let’s cash out.”

She cackles gleefully.

—

Bucky doesn’t get home until it’s half past midnight.

He’s exhausted from a day dealing with catastrophe after catastrophe, but more than that, he feels like shit for not taking you out like he’d promised. You’d sounded really upset on the phone earlier, when he told you that he couldn’t make it. Bucky’s tried calling you about half a dozen times since then, and left you several texts, but you haven’t responded to anything.

He’s not sure what kind of mood you’ll be in.

When he shoulders open the door to the apartment, Bucky is greeted by pure darkness. With a weary sigh, he toes off his shoes and turns on the lights.

His eyes are immediately drawn to the blanket and pillows piled up at the end of the sofa, clearly meant for him. You’ve been kind enough to leave him a pair of sweats and a t-shirt to change into, but there’s no note or anything else with the items.

He knows that if he were to try the door to your shared bedroom, he’d find it to be locked.

Well then. A night on the couch it is.

[comebacknow]

Even In The End

The Maze Runner Valentine’s Week

Day 2: Rare Pair Appreciation Day – Newt and Teresa (platonic)

**A/N: Based off this post. Thank you guys for that post, it gave me feels. Hope you don’t mind that I ran with it.  @asrasjulian @overglorified-trash @agent-sapphire @00250 

Angst ahead. I never see any mention of Newt and Teresa interacting with each other.  I realized I needed it.

***

Teresa slowly lifted herself on weak arms, a harsh dry cough sputtering from her.  She gasped a breath, then another. When she was finally able to take a full breath she opened her eyes, steadied her breathing. 

Sand. That’s what she was on, her hands - scarred - and knees sunken at different levels trying to steady her shaking body.  Another cough, a swallow, a blink, a breath.  She lifted her head, looking forward.

The sand stretched on for miles ahead of her, and in the distance there was laughter, there was music.  Tom.. she thought, or perhaps breathed.  She blinked, she remembered. 

No, Tom won’t be here. No one would. 

On shaking limbs and an empty head, she stood.  Balance, right foot sinking deeper in the sand.  A stumble forward, an arm outstretched.  A blink.  Focus, Teresa, focus. 

Another deep breath.  

And then.

A step forward, another shaking step, another arm tossed out for balance as the beach lurched sideways.  Steady, Teresa.

As her boots found their steadied place in the sand, her arms finally relaxing - albeit shakily - at her sides, her breathing a bit calmed, she made her way closer and closer. The laugher louder, the music growing, movements and figures taking shapes.  People, there are people. 

A quicker step, a half jog - no, just walk, Teresa. You don’t have to rush anymore. Just walk.

“Hey there.”

Teresa blinked her eyes at the girl next to her.  Dark skin, curled black hair, a kind face sprinkled with freckles.  “Welcome to the Safe Haven.”

“What?” Teresa breathed out shaking her head. “I don’t understand.”

The girl clapped a small hand on her shoulder.  “Let me rephrase.  Our safe haven.  Looks like you didn’t luck out the first time around, eh?” the girl laughed out.

Teresa blinked at her.  “Is this... is this the afterli-?”

“Sorta. We don’t like to make it that dramatic. Paradise, works.” A toothy smile and then, “let me show you arou-.”

“Teresa?”

Teresa turned toward the low voice, a hint of a rasp to it.  She recognized that face.  Memories swirled just out of reach.

“It’s Teresa, right?” the boy slowly stepped forward, reaching out with a thin dark hand.  “Do you remember me? The Glade? It’s Jeff.”

Teresa emptily lifted a hand as the memories slowly dripped back in.  

“First time we met you were getting out of a coma, too.  Looks like time has a funny way of repeating itself, huh?” the boy laughed, dropping her hand.  “Sorry to see you here.”

Teresa scanned his face, a long scratch deep across his right cheek. “Are the others all here?”

Jeff shrugged. “More than I’d have hoped, to be honest.  But yeah, they’re here.”  He looked over his shoulder and back to her. “Come on.” He turned to the girl, then.  “Thanks, Rachel.  I’ll take it from here.”

The other girl nodded and walked off.  Teresa swallowed, blinked, stepped forward in Jeff’s footprints.  “We could get you cleaned up as much as possible, but you’ll still have those scars.  Not much to do about them,” he chuckled, gesturing to his face.  “Here we are.”

Teresa tore her eyes from the water to look forward.  Face after familiar face, memory after familiar memory.  

“Hey! Look who made it!” The music slowed to a stop as the boy on drums stood nodding at her.  

“Alby...” she started, but stopped abruptly.

“Welcome to the Safe Haven,” the boy continued somewhere to the right of her vision.  “A bunch of us are here so you should...” his voice faded, everyone silencing.

Teresa’s eyes stayed locked on the black eyes across the circle.

The lanky boy stood still as a familiar, younger boy slid off his shoulders, slowly backing a step away.  She knew Chuck’s face, but couldn’t focus on him, could only stare at the black plated eyes, the black veined face ahead.

“You...” came from scarred lips, stained with venom that had been scrubbed off, but never fully gone.  “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Newt,” Alby’s voice came. “Newt, easy. We talked about this.”

The lanky boy took slow, tilted steps forward toward her.

Teresa stared ahead, gaping, until words finally came.  “No, no you were supposed to make it.  You were supposed to be on the berg.”

In a blink, those black eyes were inches from hers.  “Why are you here?”

“Newt, we saved you.  Tom is alive. He saved you!”

The unblinking eyes stared back at her, a slight tilt of the boy’s head.

“Doesn’t seem like it, does it?” 

“We saved you,” Teresa shook her head. A stuttered step back. “I got him on the Berg for you.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” A step forward.

“Newt.”

“Tommy loved you. You were supposed to be with him!”

“Newt, take it easy!” Voices called out around them, others slowly taking steps forward to the pair.

“Why did you leave him?” Black venom landed somewhere on her neck, on her shirt, on her hands.  

Suddenly a hand was at Newt’s chest and Alby was between them.  “Newt, buddy. Take a walk, we talked about this.”

Those black eyes stayed on hers for another minute before he turned, walking off.

“What...What happened? I thought I was fast enough? I thought we made it?” Teresa stuttered out, heat from the fire licking at her burns.  No pain came. Not anymore.  

“It’s not your fault,” Alby spoke quietly from her side.  “You didn’t do it.”

“He didn’t make it,” she breathed. “He was supposed to make it.”

“I like to think we all were,” Alby shrugged. “Can’t help fate. It had other things in store for us.  We’ve just gotta make do.”

“Is he still...?” she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

Alby exhaled next to her.  “Sometimes.  I guess it doesn’t fully go away when you get here.  He’s better, he can’t completely gone here.  But it comes and goes.  Winston, too.  Ben.  Others.”

Teresa shook her head. “It’s not supposed to be like this.”

“Well, it is.  The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can start to accept this place for what it is.”

She looked over to him, past him to the younger boy next to him. A small smile appeared on her face.  “Hey, Chuck.”

The boy’s round face turned to hers with a smile.  “Hey Teresa.  Sorry to see you here, but no offense, I’d rather it you than Thomas.”

She laughed, for the first time since she could remember.  “Me too, Chuck.”

Silence settled between the three before Teresa finally stood.  “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Boots pressed in the sand, a soft crunch beneath them echoed by the waves on her left.  The water blended in with the dark sky.  Ahead, a barely visible silhouette of a boy, head turned down, a lock of hair hanging from his forehead. 

“He loved you too, you know?”

The back of the boy’s sandy blonde hair stayed still, facing the dark waves.  

Teresa waited.  Slowly, the boy turned, hand rubbing a small spot on his chest. Though his eyes were plated black, there was a sadness to them, a realness, something human in them.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it in time, Newt.” Teresa exhaled shakily.  “I thought...” she cut her words off.  There was no use in saying what she thought.  She’d thought wrong.

“You were supposed to be with him.”  

She looked up when the boy spoke.  Stilled, waited, listened.

“I knew I could never.  Not the way I was.” His veined hand dropped.  “Not the way I am.”

A swallow.  A burning behind her eyes.

“Minho?”

She blinked, and nodded for him to continue.

“Is Minho with him?”

She nodded slowly, recalling the boy grabbing Tom onto the berg.  “Yes, he’s there. And Brenda. Gally. Frypan.”

Newt nodded.  “Good.  Good.  I never want to see any of them again.”  His voice broke on the last words,  “I never want to see To-,” he stopped.  A choked breath, and then he buckled.

In a moment Teresa’s knees were in the sand, inches from the boy’s.  Newt was hunched over, body arched forward where he knelt.  She put arms around his neck, felt a shudder beneath her hands.  

He pulled himself back from her arms, sitting back on his knees.  The plated black eyes faded, almost to a too dark brown, almost to his original color - though glassy, filmed over, tears dripping their way down faded black veins.  “I couldn’t do it, Teresa. I couldn’t do it.” The words spilled out of him as Teresa clutched his shoulders in front of her.

“I know.”

“I couldn’t let him see me like that.  I thought he’d have you.  I thought he’d have you.” 

“He’s not alone, Newt. He’s not alone.” She squeezed his shoulders.  “He has Minho. He has all of them.”

Newt’s heaving breaths slowed to a steady rhythm again, his eyes clearing from the tears. 

“Hey,” Teresa smiled, dropping her hands into her lap.  “Remember that time, a while back, when we had just escaped WICKED?  Aris jammed the lock on that door and Tom had just made it under?”

A small smile appeared on Newt’s scarred mouth.

A breath. She continued.  “Remember how he flipped Janson off before running?”

“Yeah,” a choked, crack of a laugh came from Newt.  “He did it again when we jumped out of that window.”

“Out of a window?” Teresa raised her brows.

“Yeah,” Newt smiled, staring at a spot in the dark sand. “We had just rescued Minho - or rather, he’d rescued us - and Tommy’s brilliant idea was to jump out of a thirty story window into freezing cold water below.” A sniffled laugh.

Teresa exhaled on a laugh of her own.  “That sounds like him.”

“He flipped Janson off then, too.”

“Seems like a signature move.”

“Yeah.”

A breath.

A memory. 

A laugh.

Teresa tilted her head.  “Remember in the Scorch?  Walking up those sand dunes toward those mountains?”

“Those damned mountains,” Newt laughed.

“You hated that idea.”

“I did,” Newt looked up now, any trace of tears gone.  “I thought it was the dumbest idea I’d heard and this is after Tommy dragged us into a maze with Grievers.”

“Tom had a knack for dumb ideas.”

“He did,” Newt nodded.  “But we always followed through on them.”

Teresa shrugged, pulling her legs from beneath her and repositioning herself a bit more comfortably.  “That’s because we always knew he’d get us out in the end.”

Newt nodded and then stopped, tilting his head, brows coming together in a question over his black eyes.  “Did we, though?”

They shared another loud bark of a laugh, letting it echo across the waves, back to camp on the other side of the beach.

“I suppose not,” Teresa smiled.

“I guess you agree to some bloody stupid plans when you love someone,” Newt’s laugh faded, his eyes darkening a tint.

“I guess you do.”

A breath.

Another memory.

Another breath.

“He loved you, too, you know.” Teresa repeated.  “With everything he had.”

Newt only nodded, eyes locked on the sand between them.

“Even if he never said it.”

His eyes shifted to her’s now.  His head tilted up, looking at her straight on.  “I know he did.” A look of confusion came over his face. “He told me every day.”

Teresa tilted her head.

“Just like he told you every day,” Newt nodded to her.  “He told me when he thanked me for making him a runner.  When he kept his eyes on me as we ran though the maze, making sure I kept up with my stupid leg,” he laughed.

Teresa smiled at the way the boy’s eyes started to lighten, the faded darkened veins softening in the moonlight.

He continued.  “He told me when he helped me climb up those stupid dunes, and then, of course, back down them.”

“He told me,” Teresa smiled at her memory, “when you all came in to rescue me. Before the Scorch, I mean.  When he pulled me out of that testing room.  And when he sent me down that zip line before him, do you remember that?”

Newt laughed.  “We were so worried when he didn’t come after you.”

“I really thought he was still in that building.”

“Nah, I knew he wasn’t.” Newt shook his head.  “He was just being a hero, as usual.”

“How about when we found him at that party?”

“Yeah! How about that?” Newt tosses his hands in the air, before leaning back on them. “We’re out here running around the desert, fighting off cranks and he’s out here partying it up with them.”

Teresa barked out another laugh, curling over her knees where she sat.  She lifted her head back up, wiping her eyes.  “I swear, every time I reunited with him, one of us was unconscious.”

“Do you remember that time Jorge stole that truck - Bertha?”

“You fought so hard for shotgun, I thought you were going to take a swing at Minho.”

“I almost did,” he laughed.  “Since that day any time I’ve called shotgun nobody’s argued. Not once.”

Teresa threw her head back in a laugh, basking in it.  

A breath.

Silence.

Teresa opened her mouth.  Closed it.  Opened it.  “I’m sorry, for the way I did things.”

Newt stayed still, black eyes focused on his hands.

“I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“You were,” he offered.  “In one way or another.”

An inhale.

An exhale.

“Thank you,” Newt’s eyes found hers, “for saving him.  For getting him out.”

Teresa nodded.

“I know you loved him, too."

Teresa swallowed. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save you.”

Newt shrugged. A sniffle. His head tilted back to look at the stars, and Teresa found herself doing the same.  “Tommy saved me every day.  Even in the end.”

Teresa smiled at the stars.  “Yeah, I guess he saved us all.  Even in the end.”

He sat on the edge of the shore.  He could still hear their laughter in his memories, even over the sounds of the waves, coming toward him but never quite reaching him.

He tilted his head back looking at the stars, grateful for every moment with them, every laugh, every hand grasped in darkness, names whispered, eyes locked.  They had both saved him.  Even in the end.

[kyliafanfiction-archive]

Tagged by @stargazerdaisy

Rules: Answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions.

1. Coke or Pepsi: Coke, probs. As much by accident as anything else, I drank coke a lot more often and so have a stronger taste for it.

2. Disney or Dreamworks: Uhm… I don’t care?

3. Coffee or Tea: TEA! MOTHER FUCKING TEA!

4. Books or Movie: The Book

5. Windows or Mac: Windows. I have an irrational hatred of Macs and all Apple Products.

6. DC or Marvel: DC, mostly because I hate Marvel/The MCU right now, but I don’t care for comics either way.

7. Xbox or Playstation: Xbox, if I gotta pick.  

8. Dragon Age or Mass Effect: Dragon Age.

9. Night Owl or Early Rise: Night Owl.  

10. Cards or Chess: Chess.

11. Chocolate or Vanilla: Vanilla.

12. Vans or Converse: Is this a shoes thing? I don’t care.

13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash or Adaar: Trevelyan

14. Fluff or Angst: Drama with sprinklings of Angst and a fluffy/fluffy-adjacent ending.

15. Beach or Forest: Forest

16. Dogs or Cats: Cats

17. Clear Skies or Rain: Rain. Rain, Rain, come right now.

18. Cooking or Eating Out: Eating out. Or better yet, ordering in.

19. Spicy Food or Mild Food: Mild, largely. Though I like spice more than I did when I was younger.

20. Halloween/Samhain or Solstice/Yule/Christmas: Uhm… Christmas, if I hafta pick?

21. Would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: Forever a little too cold. Would keep me awake more.

22. If you could have a superpower, what would it be? Shapeshifting. Hell, I’d settle for being able to take on any human shape, let along animals or like, fictional ones.

23. Animation or Live Action: Live Action

24. Paragon or Renegade: Paragon, largely, because of the poor design of the renegade system.

25. Baths or Showers: Showers

26. Team Cap or Team Iron Man: Team Cap is a Hypocritical PoS and I Hate Bucky.

27. Fantasy or Sci-Fi: Fantasy

28. Do you have three or four favourite quotes? If so, what are they:  

“Man is a reasoning, rather than a reasonable, animal.” – Alexander Hamilton

“I have too much respect for the idea of God to make it responsible for such an absurd world.” – Georges Duhamel

“I'll be more enthusiastic about encouraging thinking outside the box when there's evidence of any thinking going on inside it.” – Terry Pratchett

“It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.” – Aristotle

“Man is by nature a political animal.” – Aristotle

“War is a matter not so much of arms as of money” – Thucydides

“Majority rule will only work if you're considering individual rights. You can't have five wolves and one sheep vote on what they want to have for supper.” – Larry Flynt

29. YouTube or Netflix: Netflix

30. Harry Potter or Percy Jackson: Harry Potter, if I must.

31. When You Feel Accomplished: When I get shit done.

32. Star Wars or Star Trek: Babylon 5 or Stargate Sg-1

33. Paperback Books or Hardback Books: Hardback

34. Handwriting or Typing: It is often easier for me to come up with the start of chapters or scenes on paper. But I type faster.

35. Velvet or Satin: Satin, I guess?

36. Video Games or Movies: Video Games

37. Would you rather be the dragon or own the dragon? Own the Dragon

38. Sunrise or sunset: Sunset

39. What’s your favourite song? “The Freshman” by the Verve Pipe, right now.

40. Horror Movies yes or no: Nah

41. Long hair or short hair: I like my hair short.

42. Opera or Theatre: Neither.

43. Assuming the multiverse theory is true and every story ever told has really happened somewhere, which one of the movie/book/tv show/game/etc world’s would you pick to travel to first? Depends. Am I guaranteed I won’t die/be infected/get my mind stolen from me/etc?

44: If you had to eat only one thing for the rest of your life what would it be? Salad

45:  What instrument would you like to learn? None

46: Can you art?  Yes. I can write. And writing is an art.

47. What’s a practical joke you wish you could pull, but haven’t? I’d love to spend a whole day pretending that my work-line is the Help-Desk in Hell.

I don’t have 47 people to tag, but I’ll tag who I can:

@sunnydaleslut @mayorwilkins @rorysummersblog @carry-on-my-wayward-wesley @mossomness @wlwbuffy @scienceofficer-willowrosenberg @luscious2 @emoreggiemantle @gay4maclay @kathubs @sleeplessbutdreaming @profoundly-grey @colleensheadspace @vesperass-anuna @evieoh @ anyone else who wants in.