#I don't see the connection but anyway let me assure you: You Are Wrong

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Nothing quite like having two interactions in as many days that make me go "WTF????"

[navybrat817]

Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[luvhughes43]

you're a father? | jack hughes

journalist au! masterlist

summary: jack calls his brother quinn after finding out his ex girlfriend had his baby, and his current girlfriend hid the news from him.

word count: 0.6k

"quinn?" jack was already hyperventilating when the call connected. he had just found out that he was a father. something that his girlfriend of the past few months had hid from him.

alone in his vancouver apartment, quinn was awoken by the call of his brother. he was immediately worried, because what could possibly be so bad that his brother was calling so late at night.

quinn bolted up in bed, "what's wrong?"

"i- ohmygod," jacks words came out rushed. he felt like he was going to be sick.

"jack? breathe!" quinns voice was soothing on the other end of the line. jack tried to focus on his brothers calming words and the comforting sound of his voice. "can you tell me what happened?"

jack shook his head, forgetting for a moment that quinn couldn't see him. "i need... i-"

"are you hurt?" quinns voice was now panicked. never in his life had he heard jack sound so worried and upset.

"no, no i'm not" jack stuttered, his breathing slowly starting to calm down as he put the call on speaker and rested his head against his arms. "just, god i don't even..."

"okay, you're okay..." quinn rubbed at his eyes.

jack sat still for a minute, trying to stomach the mess that was his life.

"y/ns pregnant- was pregnant. we have a daughter" jack swallows hard. "she had tried reaching out to me and..." he couldn't bare say viviennes name. "and um, vi- she uhm, she saw the message before i did and-" jack starts crying again, violent sobs consuming him as he thought about his baby, and how y/n must've thought he had abandoned her.

quinn sat absolutely rocked by the news. "how do you uh, know that-"

"i saw the messages" jack manages to gasp out. "and i saw pictures and q, that baby is mine" jack crys out, digging the palm of his hands hard against his closed eyes.

"she was so mean to y/n. like threatening her and the baby... ohmygod" jack had to lay his head on his arms again. he was glad that he was sitting down, otherwise he was sure his legs would have gave out.

"do you need me to come get you?" quinn asked immediately. he wasn't exactly sure what he was getting jack from, but he would do anything he could to try and alleviate his brothers pain.

"i need to see my baby..." jack replies tiredly, all the crying and hard hitting emotions wearing him out. "and y/n, i need to see her again. i just dont.. i don't know what to do" jack trailed off, and a silence followed.

the boys sat on the phone together, neither saying anything. what was there to say anyway? no amount of talking things over would fix what had already happened.

jack moved his arms and let his head fall onto the marble countertop that was his island. he rolled his head over the smooth surface, hoping it's coolness would alleviate some of the pressure building in his forehead.

"what do you need me to do?" quinn finally asked.

"don't tell anyone. i'm going to figure it out" jack replied tiredly, his voice muffled by the countertops surface.

"okay... but you'll call me. like, every few hours"

"i'll call you when i have an update" jack responded.

"are you sure you don't want me to come up there?" quinn asked, mind absolutely reeling from all the news.

jack ponders his brothers suggestion. "i'll call you"

"i love you."

"i love you too," jack whispered back.

with the assurance that jack was somewhat fine, the boys both hung up the phone.

[littleragondin]

Goodbye and thanks for all the love ｡o○♡

So here we are. After five fantastic weeks, it's time to say goodbye to Nomoto, Kasuga, Yako and Nagumo. I miss them already, even though I don't think any of them will truly leave me for a good, long while.

This show is just beautiful. It may seem unassuming, quiet and more leisurely than a lot of other shows but it's worth the watch. I can only recommend it - I said it before, but do yourself this favor. I think everyone can find something healing and comforting in this story of gentle, caring people being kind to each other. In the messages it shares with you with a tenderness and reassurance that made me soft.

Watch the show for how it tells you that not following the expected path society and family have for you may come with struggles but it's still worth it, that you need to go after your happiness and that there will be people here for you through it. That it's never too late to do those things that will make you happy.

For the way it gently takes your hand and tells you that yes, there are challenges, and hard times, and difficult emotions, and pain, but that there is kindness and there is love, too - and that will help. For how it reminds you that you have to be a little selfish to sustain love, be it platonic or romantic, accepting help and voicing your need and reaching out to hang out. And yet, that you are not a burden. That the people who love you want to spend time with you, to do things you will love, to cook for you and share a meal.

Watch it for so many more reason, because I honestly think everyone will find something in there that resonate with them and their experience, that may even help them feel seen.

On a more personal note, as someone who lives far away from their family and doesn't have a lot of people around them IRL (let alone other queer people), it felt so healing to see Nomoto and Kasuga, who are about my age, have those realizations a little later in life, and find those connections anyway. To follow Nomoto discovering herself and to see her be assured that there is not right or wrong way to be who she is and that she knows what label fits her. To see Kasuga slowly opening herself to new experiences. To watch them fall in love and make new friends and build their life and their family the way that makes them happy and fulfilled. All of this brought me such comfort and gave me so much hope that things will be ok.

So goodbye ladies, but hopefully not farewell. I hope we get to see more of you, of your little family and your friends, of that new start we are ending this part of the story on. Thank you @furritsubs for making this available to those of us who don't speak Japanese (and for all the little cultural and culinary notes along the way, they truly enhanced the experience!~♡).

And to the show itself and everyone who made it... Thank you for those stories, thank you for the kindness with which everyone is treated, thank you for the warmth, the gentleness, the ever present love.

And most of all, thank you for the hope.

[sequinsmile-x]

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Seventy Five

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends,

You may notice that this finally has a number in place of the '?' for the number of chapters in this fic over on Ao3. I love Stained Glass Windows, but it feels like it is coming towards it's natural end - although don't worry too much, there are still 25 chapters to go!!

And, if there is an appetite for it, I do have plans for a wider set of shorter fics for this universe - just little insights into their lives and their family.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter - and as always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.4k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She was anxious. 

Before she had children and Aaron and the team around her - the family she’d found in the most unlikely of places - she’d never felt like this. Never experienced the fear and pre-emptive grief that came along with loving someone the way she did now. It was strange to look back on her previous self, to imagine moving through life purposely avoiding the connections she now couldn’t imagine her life without, the love and belonging that she felt worth every difficult moment that came hand in hand with it. 

She groans as her stomach rolls, her leg bouncing up and down as she stares at the clock on the wall of her doctor’s office, desperately willing for time to speed up, for the final minutes between her and her appointment to melt away.

“Sweetheart,” Aaron’s voice draws her out of her head, her eyes meeting his as he rests his hand on her knee and squeezes, stopping her leg from bouncing up and down as he smiles softly at her, “Everything will be okay.” 

She huffs out a breath, closing her eyes as her stomach rolls again, her nerves mixing in with the nausea that was had been constant for a week, “I know,” she swallows thickly, “I just…”

She drifts off, not sure how to put it into words, how to tell him that the anxiety that something was wrong had crawled under her skin. Despite her symptoms - her constant exhaustion, nausea that didn’t go away, a familiar ache in her breasts and an annoying persistent metallic taste in her mouth - she had convinced herself that she wasn’t actually pregnant. That somehow the half a dozen tests she’d taken were all wrong and she was imagining all the signs she’d experienced when she was pregnant with Lily.

“I know,” he assures her. He knew her well enough that sometimes she wondered if he could truly read her mind. He squeezes her knee again, his smile kind, his dimples carved out in his cheeks with endless patience and love for her, “But everything will be okay,” he repeats, “No matter what the doctor says in there.” 

She smiles tightly at him, “How can you be so sure?” 

He winks, his eyes sparkling, “Because everything is always okay when I’m with you.” 

She laughs, the sound forcing its way out of her chest, pushing past the anxiety that had settled there, and she shakes her head as she reaches out to run her fingers through his hair, “You are adorable,” her smile gets wider as he scrunches up his nose at her, “It’s a shame no one ever believes me.” 

He’s about to respond, his smile wry and comforting, when a nurse steps into the waiting room, “Emily Hotchner?” 

She tenses again, all the work Aaron had put into trying to calm her down gone in an instant. He squeezes her knee once more before he reaches for her hand, linking their fingers together as they stand up. 

She smiles and nods at the nurse, “That’s me.”

“Right this way, Mrs Hotchner,” the nurse says as she indicates a door down the hallway, “Dr Gibson is ready to see you.”

As they walk into the OGBYN’s office, Emily tries not to think about the last time she was here. Tries not to think about the miscarriage she’d had earlier that year, the very thing she knew was contributing to the endless anxiety thrumming under her skin. When they walk into Doctor Gibson’s office, they make polite small talk, Emily’s chest tight as they sit down opposite her doctor at her desk, her eyes fixed on the other woman’s face as she tries to read her smile. To see if there was anything lingering under her unshakeable professionalism. 

“I won’t leave you hanging, the blood tests confirmed you’re pregnant,” Doctor Gibson says, her smile getting wider when Emily almost sags in relief, her shoulders immediately lighter, “Based on the HCG levels I’d estimate about 7 weeks but we’ll have a look on the ultrasound to confirm.”

Emily huffs out a breath and her hand falls to her stomach, her thumb tracing back and forth below her belly button. Aaron squeezes the hand still firmly wrapped around his, and when she looks at him he’s smiling, his eyes shining with tears that make them look like deep pools of honey, and she wonders if this baby will have his eyes instead of hers. 

“I’m really pregnant?” She asks, not recognising her own voice, the way it cracks, happiness threatening to burst out of her chest, her ribs aching as it pushes at them from within.

She fleetingly feels embarrassed that she’s asking for confirmation again, as if she didn’t already know she was pregnant. As if she hadn’t taken numerous tests and kept the first one in a drawer in their bathroom, an uncharacteristic show of sentimentalism she’d allow herself this once. The feeling disappears as quickly as it had appeared, the smile on Doctor Gibson’s face kind and reassuring lets her know she deals with this all the time. 

“You’re really pregnant,” she confirms, “We have a few things to discuss, but maybe we could do the ultrasound first? Put you at ease?” 

Emily nods, “Yes please.” 

“Okay, you know the drill, Emily,” Doctor Gibson points towards the bed in the corner of the room, “I’ll step out to give you some privacy but pants and underwear off please.” 

Emily glares half-heartedly at Aaron when he offers to help her get undressed the moment they are alone, and it reminds her of when they saw Lily for the first time. When he’d had to help her take her pants off because she couldn’t do it herself, her entire body aching from the car crash that had brought her to the hospital in the first place.

She raises her eyebrow at him and hands him her pants and underwear, smiling softly when he folds them up and places them on a chair in the corner, something he’d clearly picked up from watching her do the same at previous appointments. She lays on the bed and pulls the thin blanket over her lap, immediately reaching for Aaron’s hand once she’s settled. He wraps both of his hands around hers and lifts it to kiss her knuckles. 

When Doctor Gibson walks back in the room Emily feels the anxiety spark back up, and she takes a deep breath, her eyes drifting closed as she tries to gather herself. Aaron kisses her knuckles again, and she squeezes his hand in silent thanks, a show of appreciation for his support, for the way he loves her. 

“Okay, Emily,” Doctor Gibson says as she sits down, “You’re going to feel some pressure from the probe.”

Emily nods, her grip on Aaron’s hand tightening as she clenches her teeth, her eyes still closed as the room falls into silence, the only sound the clicking of the buttons on the ultrasound machine. It feels like an age passes before Doctor Gibson talks again, Emily’s nerves increasing with each passing second. She hates it, hates that she’s already so controlled by her hormones, and she prays to a god she stopped believing in half a lifetime ago that she doesn’t feel this anxious her entire pregnancy, otherwise it was going to be a long nine, ten, months. 

“And there it is.” 

Her eyes fly open as she turns to look, and she gasps breathlessly when she sees it, a tiny blip of a thing on the screen, a white blob standing out against the inky blackness around it. She doesn’t think she’s seen anything as beautiful since the first time they saw Lily, when their rambunctious, sweet, adorable toddler was the same size. A tiny little thing with a lifetime of possibilities stretched out in front of them. 

“It’s okay?” She asks, her voice cracking again, “Everything looks good?” 

Doctor Gibson nods, “Everything looks right on track for how far along you are,” she smiles kindly as she points at the screen, “And that flicker right there is the heartbeat.” 

“There’s a heartbeat,” Emily says, choking on a sob, tears she’d usually be able to repress already spilling past her cheeks as she turns to look at her husband, unsurprised to find his tear filled eyes shining back at her, “Aaron, there’s a heartbeat.” 

“There is,” he confirms as he cups her cheek, wiping her tears away as he leans down to kiss her, his lips soft against hers, and she’s not sure if she’s tasting his tears or her own, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

___

“Do you want to find out what we’re having this time?” 

Emily looks up from the ultrasound photo in her hands and smiles when she looks at Aaron on the other end of the couch, her feet in his lap as he rubs them for her. 

“I don’t think so,” she replies, her lips pressed together again as she looks back down at the picture in her hands. She shakes her head, more decisive this time, “No. I want it to be a surprise,” she smiles softly when her eyes meet his, “It would be nice to be conscious this time when the baby is born, find out first hand whether we have a son or a daughter.” 

He squeezes her foot a little tighter, his thumbs pressing firmly into the sole and he sighs, memories from one of the scariest days of his life, which also happened to be one of the happiest, briefly overwhelming, “Em-”

“As nice as it was for you to be the one to tell me we had a little girl,” she says, cutting over him before they could get into the conversation about labour again, their differing opinions on it having revealed themselves during her doctor’s appointment, “I’d like it to be different this time.” 

One of the first things she’d asked Doctor Gibson, the ultrasound picture she’d been handed still clasped in her hand, was if she’d have to have a c-section this time. She wanted to avoid it if possible, wanted to have the birthing experience that had been ripped from under her last time, and Doctor Gibson assured her that depending on a couple of things as she got further along she saw no reason Emily couldn’t try. Aaron had been hesitant, spouting out statistics Emily wasn’t even aware he’d researched about complications that came from attempting a vaginal delivery after a cesarean. She makes a mental note to talk to him about it another time, to make it clear just how important this was to her, but today, in this moment, she just wanted to settle in the joy that they were expanding their family. 

He nods, “I just want you both to be safe.” 

She shifts closer so she’s sitting in his lap, her side against his chest as he wraps his arms around her, her head on his shoulder as they both look at the ultrasound picture, “I know. Me too. And I’ll do whatever the doctor recommends,” she assures him, tracing a finger over the tiny blob that was her baby, “But if it’s possible I want to try.” 

He sighs again, the fear he felt whenever he thought of Lily’s birth still sitting on his chest. It felt like he was right back there in that hallway, his wife and baby wheeled away from him as he had no choice but to sit there and hope for the best. His request for the doctor to save his wife if they could only save one of them stuck in his throat, a request he knew he’d make again now in a heartbeat if it came to it, their family now even more reliant on Emily’s presence than ever. He wanted her to do what she wanted to do, wanted her to have the experience he knows she feels she missed out on with Lily, but more than anything he wanted her alive and safe with him. 

“Sweetheart-”

“I think we should wait a little while to tell everyone,” she says, cutting him off again, making it abundantly clear she didn’t want to talk about it now. 

He closes his eyes and kisses the side of her head, swallowing down his concerns for now, all too happy to take her lead as long as they spoke about it eventually, “It’s up to you. Who would you want to tell first?” 

“Probably Jack,” she says, smiling softly as she pulls back to look at him, her nose scrunched up as the practicalities of that hit her, “Although we probably will have to tell Haley first in that case, it’s not fair to blindsight her.”

Aaron tightens his hold on her, one of his hands slipping down to her still flat stomach, “Jack is that little bit older now,” he says, stroking his thumb back and forth over her belly, “We can tell him and I can explain to him that I’ll talk to Haley when I take him back to hers. She won’t be blindsighted that way by Jack just announcing it, and we won’t have to tell my ex-wife before anyone else,” he smiles when their eyes meet, nothing but love reflecting back at her, “You come first in this, Em. You and this little one.” 

She cups the back of his head as she drags him in for a kiss, her forehead pressed against his as she breaks away, “Okay, so Jack first,” she scratches the back of his head, “And then the team? Then my mom I guess.” 

He kisses her in agreement, “We’ll have to get Lily used to sharing you.” 

She rolls her eyes at him and lightly bats at his shoulder, “She’s not that possessive over me.” 

He hums, his eyebrow raised as he tugs her impossibly closer, “She told me off for kissing you the other day.” 

“She didn’t tell you-”

“She said ‘my mama’ and slapped me on the shoulder,” he challenges her, his amusement painted across his features as he tries and fails to remain serious. 

“Okay fine,” she grumbles, “We have to work on that. But we have time.”

He smiles and cups her cheek, dragging her in for a kiss, “We have time.”

___

She groans as she spits into the toilet, her hand covering her mouth as she sits back against the wall, her forehead pressed against her knees as she blindly reaches out to press the flush. 

She breathes slowly, trying to settle her stomach, not even attempting to get up from the bathroom floor. There’s a soft knock on the bathroom door and she groans again, pressing her cheek to her knees as she looks at the door.

“Come in,” she croaks, grimacing at the rough sound of her voice, the bitter taste on her tongue. She forces a smile on her face as Aaron walks in, a can of ginger ale in hand that he immediately passes to her, “Thanks, honey. Where’s Lily?” 

“Sleeping,” he says, kneeling down next to her as he pulls the monitor out of his pocket, the grainy image of the toddler asleep in her crib staring up at them. Aaron ignores the way his knee cracks against the tiled floor and he rubs a hand up and down her back, “Are you feeling any better?”

She shakes her head, immediately regretting it as it makes her somehow feel worse, “No,” she complains, opening the can of ginger ale and taking a sip, “I want to have a conversation with whatever idiot called his morning sickness,” she presses her fingers to her lips, suppressing another gag, “I bet it was a man.” 

He clears his throat to cover a smile, “I’m not sure there’s a safe way for me to respond to that so I won’t.”

She smiles, “Probably smart,” she sips her drink again, “What time is it?” 

“Almost 7.30 pm,” he replies, still rubbing circles on her back and she groans again, her forehead back against her knees. 

“I have to go meet my mother soon,” she sighs, “Not sure how I’ll get there without throwing up all over the car.” 

It was a longstanding dinner reservation she had with her mother, something they’d planned before Emily even knew she was pregnant, and right now she couldn’t think of something she wanted to do less than sit in a restaurant surrounded by strong smells. 

“That’s one of the reasons I came in here,” he says, smiling softly when she turns to look at him, “Your mom just called, she said she can’t make it.” 

“Oh,” she says, an odd mix of relief and familiar concern mixing in her gut, “Did she say why?” 

“She said she’s not feeling great,” he replies, “Apparently she hasn’t been sleeping recently.”

She hums, her lips pressed together as she tries not to jump to conclusions, trying to assure herself that any slight change in her mother’s behaviour didn’t mean she was drinking again. 

“She did look tired when I last saw her,” she says, her stomach rolling as the nausea climbs up her throat again, “I’ll make sure she’s okay when I stop throwing up,” she groans as she shifts so she’s hovering over the toilet, grateful when he shifts with her, automatically holding her hair back, “Which at this rate might be when the baby comes.” 

He winces, “The ginger ale isn’t helping?” He asks, and she throws up in response and then glares at him as she sits back up, her expression screaming what do you think as she spits into the toilet and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand, “Sorry,” he mumbles, reaching for the glass of water on the counter and handing it to her before he flushes the toilet, “We’ll figure out what helps this time around, sweetheart.” 

She sips the water, the coolness of it soothing against the rawness of her throat, “I hope so,” she blows out a slow breath, “I don’t remember it being this bad with Lil,” she smiles softly at him, “Thank you for looking after us.” 

He moves to sit beside her, his arm around her shoulder as he encourages her to sink into his side. He kisses her temple, “There’s nothing else I’d rather do.”

She smiles, and opens her mouth to respond before she catches the scent of his cologne, the usually comforting smell causing her stomach to roll again, and she turns just in time to throw up into the toilet basin. 

“Cologne?” Aaron asks, wincing as he rubs her back, and she nods, humming in confirmation as she breathes in and out as slowly as she can. He stands up and kisses the back of her head, “I’ll shower to get it off.” 

“No, Aaron. It’s okay,” she says, “I’ll get used to it.” 

He looks at her like she’s crazy, his smile incredulous as he pulls his shirt over his head, “And what? We won’t snuggle in the meantime? Absolutely not.” 

She presses her lips together to contain her smile and she fails, the grin that spreads across her face totally at odds with how she was feeling otherwise, “You’re right, what was I thinking,” she says, winking at him, “As soon as I feel like I can stand up without throwing up, I’ll join you.” 

He smiles as he strips off, his clothes barely making it into the hamper, and she makes no attempt to hide the fact she watches him as he steps into the shower. She sighs contentedly when the water switches on, her stomach finally settling a little, and she reaches for the baby monitor, running her finger over the screen, over the image of her sleeping daughter, and she starts to imagine what the new baby would look like. Whether it would be a boy or a girl, whether they’d look more like her and Lily or Aaron and Jack. If they’d have her nose and Aaron’s smile, or the other way around. 

Her stomach rolls, the brief reprieve she’d had already long gone, and she groans whilst pressing her hand into her lower stomach, “You’d better be the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, kiddo.” 

[clavissionary-position]

Ikeprinces and Their Voicemail

Some of these are a bit suggestive so MDNI please!

Jin: Hello, hello, Jin Grandet here; grande in more ways than one. I know what you're thinking. Is this an x-rated hotline? I assure you that is definitely not the case... unless you're a fine-bosomed lady, that is. Single and ready to mingle? Stay on the line, sugar-tits *beep*

Chevalier: *voicemail goes straight to the beep*

Clavis: Hello? *proceeds to have a fake conversation with the caller as if he's actually there* That'll get the flour out of your hair asap. Oh, that's fascinating. I'm so sorry to hear that. Nice legs, you say? *beep*

Leon: Hey there, you've reached Leon. Sorry we missed each other. But it'd be boring if we connected without a little interference, yeah? Kidding, kidding! Just leave a name and number and I'll get back to you with the funniest joke you've ever heard―guaranteed *beep*

Yves: You have reached the Fifth Prince of Rhodolite, Yves Juniper Oswald Kloss. I'm sorry I can't be here to take your call right now, so please leave your name and number after the tone. Unless you're Clavis. Then please hang up and toss your phone into the nearest river―*sound of phone accidentally falling into the toilet*―Are you serious... I wasn't even in the bathroom :(

Licht: This is Licht. I'm not available right now. Leave a message. Give me back my phone, Nokto *beep*

Nokto: Mmmmnnn hello. I had every intention of answering your call, but I'm a busy man with places to be, deals to sign, lips to... You know what I mean... If there's anything I can do for you, do leave a name, number, and a brief description of yourself so I can pick out the perfect pair of―Licht, come on, I wasn't done with―*beep*

Luke: *sound of snoring for 30 seconds cut off by a beep at the end*

Sariel: This is Sariel. My apologies for being unable to receive your call. Please leave a name, number, and 10-word description of what you are calling about. I must stress that it has to be 10 words or you risk my losing interest. Just kidding. Or am I *beep*

Rio: Hello! Rio here! Woof! I don't... actually know why I did that into the phone... Oh well. Let me know what I can do for you and I'll see if Silvio is available to foot the bill. Spoiler: he is. I love Emma today and everyday! *beep*

Keith: I'm so sorry I couldn't be here to take your call! Please let me make it up to you! I know I'm nothing special but if there's anything you need help with―pulling weeds, maybe? Or doing your taxes? Or being your alibi for a future murder... No―NO! Murder is wrong! Please don't murder any―*beep*

Silvio: I ain't here. Leave a message after the fuckin *beep*

Gilbert: Hello. You've reached Gil. I'm sorry I can't take your call right now, because I'm sure you wouldn't be calling just to waste my time. You're smarter than that, right? Hehehe, that's what I thought. Anyway, let me just wash this blood from my hands and I'll get back to you *smiles through the phone*

[unmotivated-student]

If something else is controlling Roier's original body I would like the spiderbit reunion to be super dramatic telenovela type, like, can you imagine it?

"Cellbo!"

When Cellbit hears that voice he can't help but feel the urge to start runing towards Roier to wrap him in a hug. But he doesn't.

He wanted his husband to be happy.

He believed his husband would be happy even if he was not by his side, and there he was, smiling as he used to before Purgatory.

But... Why didn't it feel right?

"¿Qué haces ahí parado, pendejo?"

Although Roier talked to him, Cellbit did not answer. He didn't even move an inch.

Roier just looked at him, smiling and shaking his head, then, as if Roier had read his mind, he approached Cellbit, giving him the hug he longed for.

But something felt weird, it was not how he expected his reunion with his husband to feel after so long... Why did he still had the feeling that something was wrong?...

"I missed you Guapito" Roier said in his ear as he tightened the hug.

Cellbit's skin crawled.

It was now clear.

That wasn't his husband.

"Where is my husband?" Cellbit asked trying to stay calm.

"What are you talking about pendejo? I'm here" Roier responded, letting out a soft laugh.

"You are not him"

"Did the radiation go to your head or what? It's me"

"Stop lying to me! Tell me where Roier is! I know you're not him!"

"Are you... sure?"

That "Roier's" smile became sinister and a chill ran down Cellbit's spine.

"Well, I guess I couldn't expect anything less from a detective like you, so... tell me, how did you know? ... It was because of those cheesy nicknames of yours, right?... You see, watching romantic comedies isn't my thing, so I never paid attention to what nickname belonged to who... I admit it, that was careless of me but I didn't think you were coming back..."

Cellbit didn't say a word, he just clenched his fists trying to contain the rage he was feeling.

"hey, why don't you say anything? Did the mouse eat your tongue?" said the impostor with a smile on his face.

Cellbit couldn't hold back anymore. He he took out his knife and lightly pressed it against the impostor's neck.

"what? you want to scare me?" "Roier" asked while laughing cynically.

Cellbit did not say anything and pressed a little more, managing to make a wound from which a little blood was already beginning to come out.

"Oh, you don't want to keep doing that"

"why? because I may regret it later? don't worry, I can assure you that it won't be like that"

"Oh, well... Yeah, you will... you see, you haven't discovered the whole truth about me the truth about me"

"What?" Cellbit lower his knife.

"This body does not belong to me" "Roier" whispered in Cellbit's ear.

"What-..? What do you mean by that?"

"You're smart Mr. Detective, come on, connect the dots..."

Doied let out a sinister laugh as he watched Cellbit's anger grow as he realized. He could see in the brazilian's eyes his desire to kill him right there.

But at the same time he could also see how Cellbit had to restrain himself from fulfilling that desire.

Doied was really enjoying the view.

"why?" was the only word that could come out of Cellbit's mouth.

"why? I just wanted to have some fun and not live in the shadows for a while, I just wanted to know what it was like to be him"

"Well, you already did it, now give me back my husband"

"Uh, I can't do that, I have a kid, right? I want to meet him"

"I won't let you get close to Pepito"

"Why not? Don't you want to see a child happy to see his father after so long? I heard that he missed me..."

"You are NOT his father, Roier is"

"You're such a party pooper, what did Roier see in you? Anyway, why don't you let me have some fun...?"

"I will not let you escape"

"What are you going to do now then? Torture me until you squeeze everything I know out of me? you wouldn't do that, and I doubt the others will trust you after your "bloody adventures"... I doubt you even trust yourself"

Cellbit looked down. It was true.

"How do I know you are telling the truth? How do I know you're really in Roier's body?"

"you'll have to trust, or would you be able to risk killing me and your husband with me?"

Cellbit knew he couldn't. He couldn't put Roier's life at risk.

"I knew it" Doied smiled "Well, see you later cat boy, have fun catching rats, solving puzzles, or whatever you do for fun... I want to go meet some people.."

Doied took a few steps and then stopped.

"Oh and so you don't think I'm evil, I'll give you a hint... don't waste your time with me and go find your husband, okay? Did you know that before we caught him he was looking for you? ha, let's see if you have more luck"

After that Doied walked away leaving a Cellbit full of doubts and regrets behind....

∆•∆•∆

Uh, it could've been better but I'm still not good at writing things like this in English, anyway... you get my vision right?

I was going to write that to prove that it was Roier's body, Doied showed Cellbit the scar but I can't remember well if Roier told him about that 😵‍💫

I also rushed a couple things, my apologies for that 😵‍💫

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Could you explain a bit better what you meant with this sentence about your thoughts on jikook?

"But I also wouldn't be totally surprised if what looks as obvious right now to actually not mean what a lot of us think simply because we're missing information."

What I meant was how can I be absolutely convinced that my perception and understanding of what I see is right when there's so much information that I don't know. Big puzzle pieces missing because I don't have access to them and I shouldn't anyway.

I too see what so many people who ship/support Jikook see. Of course I can say that I'm not blind, it's so obvious that both of them leave a certain impression that leads people to believe they are/might be in a relationship together. And we say that based on what we see and our own understanding of relationships. Wether we are in one ourselves or maybe we recognize the romance signs from those around us or from fiction. The point is, most of us are able to identity certain markers that can indicate that. I'm starting to sound way too technical by using this language, ugh. Anon, we all know what love is or what it looks like. The same with attraction. That's it. It's that simple. And we see it when we look at other people, be it on the street, in a cafe, at the cinema or on the screen.

But does this mean there are no chances of us being wrong? Of course there are. We show our social self to the world and we perform our own self and in connection to others. And it differs depending of where we find ourselves in private or public spheres.

In that case, Jimin and Jungkook have this entire life outside of what we see and most importantly what they want us to see and what not. They have friends and acquitances we have no idea about. Maybe they spend their day with those people on an almost daily basis and we wouldn't know because perhaps there are no photos. You see what I mean?

Nevertheless, shipping within common sense is fine. It's about having fun and getting giddy at seeing how they are together and thinking there is more to it. But of course it's not always like that. It's more of an ideal situation in which not many people find themselves in. The rest are invested. Which on a surface level would be easy to criticize or mock, but aren't all fans invested, regardless of their interests in BTS and their role in the fandom? There's that common understanding that the group showed up in people's lives when they needed it. And while it is true in a positive sense, it also showed up when people are having some unfulfilled emotional needs. That's not something to feel ashamed about. We humans can be so miserable and unhappy and depressed more and more and we see it everywhere. That's another facet of getting into the fandom and consequently going down the shipping/supporting road. Because whether we are sad or happy with our lives, we are still sappy and in love with the idea of love. And we go down the rabbit hole and it feels so nice. Until it doesn't and suddenly it's ugly and some people want out. They get miserable and instead of making their peace with it, they send anon asks that start with "I'm an ex-jikooker" and so on.

Anyway, bear with me, I'm close to having a conclusion to all this. So, what does this mean? Should we all have or always express some doubt because we have to be anchored in reality? So we don't find ourselves being called delusional or sick for believing something so simple as two people who might be in love? No. And you know why I don't feel guilty? Because I'm not the one doing it. I'm not the one behaving in a way that makes people believe I may be in love with my bandmate. I'm not the one ok with having that being made public or have flirty conversations on public platforms. And they are also not idiots. Let's be very clear about that. They are not. If we can draw conclusions so easily based on everything we see, rest assured they too are aware of how they come across. They are not some rookie idols six months into their debut at 15 years old. They are adults and this is the image they are fine with projecting. Be it real or not. Me or you and everyone else who is interested in them will see it. And if turns out we were wrong, two things to have in mind. Some people will feel shitty for various reasons. Some selfish and crazy, but a more common one would be having to accept that our beliefs are wrong, that we spent time and time again talking and thinking about something that made sense, based on logic and all of a sudden, it is not. But that's something each has to deal with.

What it is very important to note though, is that this is not a one way street. Opinions were made based on content and things those two people have said to each other and about each other. If one is delusional for drawing conclusions it's also because Jimin and Jungkook had their contribution to it. What we do with that is entirely our own responsibility. Some go bat shit crazy, like a group did when holding hands on the street of Paris was the rave for a few days and others will have other reactions. But let's not demonize fans completely and diminish the role of those who are actively offering the "material".

Seeing so many people in the fandom holding their breath waiting for "jikook to be debunked" is a lot more pathetic than those who ship them. I wonder if that same expectation is there for all the other ships that involve Jimin and Jungkook. My guess is not, which tells you a lot. It's a waiting game that is done through sending the same ill intentioned ask to bloggers to rile them up. It's making blogs or turning them into spaces for ex-jikookers. It's about making polls to have shippers and ex-shippers talk about how they would react when/if it ends. It's a game in which there is the need to win. Those who are not enjoying or aren't directly involved are not only eager to participate, but they are the ones who create the games, which says a lot more about how this one damn ship can really affect people from all corners of the fandom.

[luvyeni]

Dude sameeeee, I'm totally capable to find people attractive (in a sense that they're good looking or have a great energy/style) but I've rarely ever been actually attracted to anyone, at least not in a physical/sexual way

After a lot of thought I have identified myself under the demisexual umbrella, as in needing a deep connection or knowledge of someone before wanting to get involved romantically or in any other way, but it could also be just acesexuality which I'll discover once I get in some sort of relationship, since I never have before

Obviously our experiences, preferences and needs can be entirely different, but with all of this I just wanted to assure you that there's nothing wrong with the way you feel about other people and relationships, we know that this society has influenced and imposed many standards and rules that shouldn't be there, let it be heteronormativity, monogamy, sexism obvs, but also what attraction and love entails

We have always been told that with your partner you're supposed to be loyal, sexually active, always in tune with your preferences, that it should aim for marriage and kids and whatnot, and we are understanding that, individually you won't agree, want or need all or any of those things, not at a certain age, not with someone else, or with only one person

Idk if I'm making sense, but yeah, these lines of platonic, romantic, and sexual relationships have always been shown as strict and defined, when they're nothing like that, not for anyone, so don't let it make you feel bad or guilty for however you feel or experience things, don't force yourself to fall into this box and category, or let alone feel the need to stay with someone, do certain things without your complete consent and desire

Those labels shouldn't matter either, I feel demi because that brings me some clarity, but it doesn't apply to everything, and it shouldn't be a rule either, so this uncertainty of yours could be solved once you find the 'right person', or it could simply not be changed, like ever, because there's nothing wrong in the first place if you simply don't feel the need to take part in those activities with anyone

...

Jesus I feel like I said a bunch of nothing, but anyways, sorry if it's too long or uncomfortable idk, but yeah, be unapologetic with your preferences and desires, be free of taking your own time with partners and relationships, and make yourself feel safe and looked after, your piece is what matters the most over anyone else's expectations

Love u, bye

i love this so much and i love you too , i struggled so hard with you this for a while cause i felt like no one would get it in my family since they see everything as black and white, either your gay straight or bi , it's not like they'll be weird about it , it's just having that conversation with my parents would be exhausting, but luckily she won't be asking for grandkids since she knows i have no desire for kids anyway and she has 5 already so that's plenty.

[naivesilver]

ASK MEME HUH? 😏 prepare yourself here :^)

okay okay so. (for the kid fic ask) 2 or 8 (toddler) or 3 (teenager)? with any parent child combination you feel like

I know this is a prime chance to write some angst but I have entered silly mode at some point lately so you get AU silliness only SLIGHTLY tinged with angst, I hope that's alright ssadkajshdnkbfk

(It also got longer than I'd anticipated, F in the chat for us all)

Kid/Parent Fic Prompts

3. "Everyone makes mistakes, it's okay."

"Hey, August, your dad said I'd find you..." Emma trails off, stopping halfway through the door as she takes in the scene before her. "...here. What are you guys doing?"

To Marco's credit, his son is, in fact, sitting in the shed just like the man had said. The only issue is that he's not alone - in fact, a swooping three of the kids in his care are crowded around him, typewriter pushed to the side as they peer at something taking center place on the table.

August looks up from it momentarily to shoot her a slight grin, which does nothing to soothe her confusion. "Scientific research."

"On a lamp? Thought that had been patented a while ago."

"Yes, but this is a monad lamp. We're trying to figure out if there's actually a cricket in here."

Emma's gaze moves to the object in question, eyebrows raised. "And that other guy's letting you? Isn't this literally attached to his hip most of the time?"

"We traded for the day!" The smallest of the puppets chirps excitedly, all but bouncing on August's knee. "Gina's showing him around, and we get to hang out with Gemini!"

"I see."

The problem with these kids, in Emma's mind, is that while they might have fairly contrasting personalities, there's something in them that betrays their connection even at first glance. Cedar's a sweet girl and the strange one with the metal arm is prone to brooding, and the two younger boys (she needs to find better nicknames to differentiate them than Big One and Little One, honestly - they bring to mind Tweedledee and Tweedledum, sometimes, but they'd probably take offense to that) are just unruly children like any other, and still they all share faint traces of past events that make her understand August a little bit more.

Right now, for example, the man has got a boy perched on his lap and Cedar leaning onto his shoulder, the other boy sitting on the tabletop with his ruined legs dangling over the edge, and yet they're all looking at her like they're about to tell her to take a leap of faith...or blow something up and ask her for help, at least, given Big Pinocchio's tendencies and those of the guy they call P. Emma should be backing away before it's too late, honestly.

"Doesn't that thing talk, anyway?" She hears herself asking instead, as if that were the most pressing matter. "Can't you just ask?"

"He's recharging," Cedar replies, ever the most helpful of them all. "That's why P left him at home. Grandfather said Gemini's not allowed to be around us unsupervised anymore, since the last time he tried to teach some nasty words to-"

"Hey!" The Pinocchio sitting on the table glares at her, a thunderous look on his face. "That's none of your business! Don't be a snitch!"

"It's not snitching if it's true! You only want to know because you've got a point to prove, anyway."

The boy sniffs haughtily, turning away. "I don't need to prove anything. I'm right. We've all got a cricket, so P should have one too."

"You're wrong. I never got a cricket, and Dad doesn't have one either-"

Emma can clearly see August barely stifling a laugh, the bastard. "Don't let Jiminy hear you say that, Cedar- I can assure you, he helped me quite a lot before he got a degree."

"I don't have a cricket," the little one says, beaming, seemingly unbothered by the squabble. "I just have Gina."

"Gina counts."

"Gina does not count, she's a duck." Cedar sighs, shaking her head of dark curls. "Why are you so worried about this, anyway? Your cricket isn't here, either."

One would expect Big Pinocchio to have a snappish retort for that, as well, and yet, none comes. Instead he seems to curl even further into himself, his glower even deeper, like a turtle tucking head and tail into its shell. "Yeah, but he was there," he mutters, much lower than before. "No one else could see him, so they thought I was making him up, but I wasn't. He was real, and I wasn't crazy."

The two adults exchange a look, the mood grown a tad more somber all of a sudden. This, perhaps, is the other thing these children have in common, and it's much less amusing than the first one - they have had some awful experiences already, for being so young, and sometimes they mention it in such an offhanded way, it sounds like everyday stuff, like making the bed or running errands.

Maybe it was everyday stuff for them, before. That doesn't make it more reassuring, either.

"That's okay." August sounds softer, too, as he leans closer to the boy and tries to meet his eyes. "We know you're not crazy. Those boys in your old school- they didn't have the full picture. Everyone makes mistakes, when they don't have the full picture."

And that, a smidge more teasing, once he has finally gotten Pinocchio to look up: "And I mean everyone. You know, Emma here, she didn't believe I was made of wood, in the beginning. Guess who proved her wrong later."

"Seriously?" Emma exhales heavily, relieved that her friend has been able to handle the situation so well and yet resigned to the fact that August continues to be, well, himself. "You only butt into this argument to throw me to the wolves?"

"You wouldn't want me to get in the way of a scientific debate, do you?"

If this were a normal conversation between the two of them, she would tell him to stop being so cheeky; but as it is, there are three more people in the room with them right now, people who have barely stopped looking wary and guarded before returning to their analysis of an otherworldly piece of machinery. There is little Emma can do beside playing along, distracting them from whatever effects the past still has on them all. She owes them that, at least.

"Alright," she says, dragging a spare stool closer and finding a spot near the table, mindless to how Cedar moves to lean on her instead, as is the nature of things.

"Let's crack this, then. I came over to ask something else, but you guys got to me. Show me what you've got, Gemini."

[rosietrace]

Melodic Misconceptions 🎹

Track 19: Filler yet again but there's a little Yuren so 👁️👁️

Synopsis: Victoria Shard was a former member of the popular idol group [ Poisoner ] from NRC corporations. After discourse with her group leader, Victoria decided it was best for her to leave and pursue her solo career in a record label run by her parents.

It had been half a year since her separation from her old group, and Victoria had never been more successful. But now she has a new problem. She must return to NRC corporations in order to mentor the seven idol groups.

Ellis Clawthorne is a member of [ (Co)-connect ] the most recent group under NRC'S belt. With no experience as an idol, Ellis must persevere in order to succeed and pursue her dreams.

Will both girls be able to adapt to their current situations?

✐ ✎_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_✐ ✎

Author's note: BAM. NEW TRACK (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ��-⁠)⁠✧

I mean, sure, it's filler. But I kinda wanted to rest easy before the rest of the plot progresses, y'know?

On the other hand, I blame the "Melodic Misconceptions 🎹" discord server for making me so obsessed with Yuren 😭 Y'all have got me in a chokehold when it comes to Yuren-

Also, woo! A small glimpse of Zen and Ellis's podcast! I'm probably gonna try and do a couple segments that feature moments like that ^^

Anyway, I'mma continue revamping the SHI staff's profiles-

But other than that, please enjoy this track! Reblogs are recommended though :') gotta help out a fellow writer-

──ㅇ─────↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺───ㅇ────

"Saw your music video, and was unsurprisingly impressed."

Victoria let out a hum, gently smiling at Circe."Thank you… It seems you and Jiyoon share the same thought." She commented, making him smile a little more.

Circe chuckled."Can you blame us? That song's Grammy-worthy material." He sent her an encouraging smile that was enough to widen her ghostlike one.

"I see…."

"Anyway, I saw those posts Zenith made about you and… A certain actor."

She inhaled, knowing where the conversation was going. Circe put down his guitar and sat a little closer to Victoria.

"...."

"Listen, I'm not judging you based on the kind of guys you're seeing, but-"

"Eh? Whatever do you mean?"

Circe deadpanned at her."Vic, I'm not gonna be rude here, but your chemistry with Aguri Harper is a little too strong. It's almost unsettling."

She squinted her eyes."Circe, don't get the wrong idea…" she murmured in response.

"I'm trying, but it's kinda hard not to assume you're in a relationship with that guy." He bit his inner lip in irritation.

Victoria sighed softly, gently ruffling his hair."I can assure you that I don't have that kind of relationship with Aguri." She promised. Circe couldn't help but notice her smile.

It became even more ghostlike. Almost invisible.

He smiled awkwardly, looking away."Right…. We'll just disregard the fact that you're on a first-name basis-"

"Circe!"

"Pffft-"

──ㅇ─────↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺───ㅇ────

Mayuu hummed proudly, satisfied with the success of her mentor's music video. She knew she didn't need to worry since she isn't Victoria's manager, but she couldn't help but want to support her nonetheless.

Yuuta snickered, playfully leaning his head against Miren's shoulder. The latter sent him a bewildered look."Looks like Mayuu's in a good mood~" Yuuta said.

Carol didn't bat an eye, refusing to look away from her book."Can you blame her? Any type of success for our group would be able to put Mayuu in a good mood." She replied emotionlessly, continuing to read her book.

Yuuta shrugged lazily, scrolling through Twitter before he frowned."I think we gotta start deleting the hate comments…" he muttered.

Miren raised a brow and looked at the contents of Yuuta's phone. Not long after, he frowned as well. Albeit with an irritated expression.

"I agree…."

Mayuu sighed."I'll take care of that issue. In the meantime, you all rest up before our next charity concert in the next couple of weeks." She pushed up her glasses, beginning to type in her phone.

"But on the other hand…" she sent Yuuta a look of disapproval."Stop flirting with Miren on Twitter. We don't need any rumors swirling around…"

Yuuta gave her an amused smirk."Can't help it, little miss manager. He's just too cute~" he teased, giving Miren a wink.

Ignoring his words, Chizuko looked around."Huh…. Where's Ellis?" She asked, expecting no answer.

Juvia walked inside, still in her pajamas."Oh, she's hosting a podcast with Mr. Zenith…" she quickly answered, walking into the kitchen for a cup of hot cocoa.

Carol huffed."Let's hope things aren't too chaotic…"

Yuuta rolled his eyes, leaning against Miren's shoulder once more and holding him affectionately.

"We can't guarantee that, Miss Ann.."

──ㅇ─────↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺───ㅇ────

Ellis cackled from the unexpected yet utterly hilarious joke Zen cracked.

"Hahaha! True, I couldn't help but find Carol running into a wall while reading, a bit amusing too!"

"Hehe, see?"

Zen leaned against his hand, giving Ellis a playful grin and a peace sign. To which Ellis responded with a heart sign.

She liked the podcast. Very much, actually. It felt nice to have a sort of side career aside from being an idol.

Being a podcaster made her feel a little free. To express herself more widely while discussing topics that she's always wanted to talk about. Even if they were a little odd.

Hell, Ellis loved being a podcaster. She just holds back her neverending joy about being one.

As Zen ended the podcast from there, he sent Ellis a happy-go-lucky-looking grin. And she easily sent him an equally playful smile.

Zen snickered."I'm liking this podcast thing so far. I could get used to this!" He exclaimed.

Ellis nodded, equally as enthused."Mhm! It's only been a week since we first started this weekly podcast, and I already love it." She commented, taking off her headphones and preparing to leave the room.

After picking up his phone, Zen sighed almost dramatically."We gotta hurry, though… Mayuu's gonna scold us for not coming back after our usual curfew.."

Ellis snorted."True- But other than that, I can't wait for our next podcast together!!" She cheered, fighting back the urge to jump up and down in a sort of childish manner.

Zen felt a pleasant smile grace his face.

"Yeah…. Can't wait to continue working with ya, Ellis~!!"

──ㅇ─────↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺───ㅇ────

Tagging:

@starry-night-rose @windbornearchon @nem0-nee @fumikomiyasaki @sakuramidnight15 @authoruio @geminiiviolets @knights-escort @twsted-princess

[nebulations]

[ID: A collection of tweets by hors d'oeuvres (horse divorce) @/corviiid. They read:

anyway the real dichotomy in ace attorney is narumitsu who dance around being effectively married on the soulmate plane for 30 years before having a tearful revelation in the middle of a murder-conspiracy vs klapollo who are like wanna go on a date after work yeah okay sure 

phoenix is like apollo. take it from me, a married man. ur love life WILL be torrid for 2 decades. 3 if u count the years when u were 8 and working out the connection b/w homosexuality and court but it WILL be worth it. apollo is like klavier is bringing thai food to my apartment

judge: well then. mr. wright? what is this decisive evidence? phoenix: (this is it... i can't afford to get this wrong!) phoenix: TAKE THAT! everyone: ........ judge: this is your wedding ring phoenix: yeah. miles please help edgeworth, standing at the opposite bench: 

kay: you gotta put yourself out there mr edgeworth i mean you never know! mr right could be just around the corner edgeworth: ? no, it's a work day. he'll be in his office downtown. kay: what? edgeworth: what? 

klapollo. is so good and so funny. diva rock-star prosecutor who is like human form of the concept of vtubers. net worth of a small nation state. has his own barbie doll. dating: man who has invented a category called "most normal person on earth" and is trying so hard to win it 

apollo is like klavier i cant date you i would feel guilty if we were dating but i didnt support you by watching your new reality/lifestyle show but i cant because its on at the same time as the local news and i have to write the forecast in my pocket notebook every night

klavier is like ach i understand boyfriend forehead. you are too insecure to join me on the red carpet. i assure you that everyone will find your suit that you bought from target as charming as i do and apollo is like no i know that 

thinking about phoenix wright getting his badge back after eight long years and immediately taking on a case without checking who his client is and then when he finds out his client is an actual fucking orca he's like Aw brother. Golly gee. Well this might as well happen

trucy, mouth full of pocky: so you'd think klavier is the cool one in the relationship. but actually he gets excited about well drafted contracts. it's not him phoenix letting trucy give him a pedicure: so it's apollo? trucy: no phoenix: well, that's all the options trucy: yeah 

naming one child kristoph and one child klavier is really like going these are my two cats this one is named geoffrey and this one is named placemat

does anyone remember that one tumblr post about what if there was an anime where every episode is the protagonist dodging the first episode of another anime because she wants to be just some guy. realising that that's apollo justice

orphaned when father died in a fire and mother disappeared and lost her memory? that's just how it is. won't look into that. raised in a foreign country by a guy who becomes an infamous insurgent? don't want to talk about it. will never bring it up. i want to be a solicitor

phoenix becoming an attorney to see miles again proving he's been thinking about miles for 15+ years and never stops and then in investigations miles proving that he thinks about phoenix like eight times a day every time anything happens but never by name that's too intimate

just a whole ass relationship of miles microwaving a lasagne and thinking This microwaveable lasagne. once so cold, is now warm to the touch. Much like my heart, which was changed by... that attorney

maya voice That's why you bought out the grocery store's entire supply of bratwurst? To meet Edgeworth?! and then edgeworth doesn't even like bratwurst

halfhearted bratworth joke

(miles edgeworth tripping over a crack in the sidewalk) That's right... I could have fallen so much farther if I had not been caught by a certain / End ID]

in honour of twitter violently lowering itself into a pit of lava, i’ve started saving some of my favourite tweets from my twitter account in case it all goes down. i guess i’ll start posting them here on tumblr in chunks - the ace attorney ones go here, though i know i haven’t been all that active lately!

this is also a heads up that i’ve made a new general blog @corviiids for all the yammering that’s been on twitter up until now. if you’re INTERESTED in yammering, you’re very welcome to come over and follow me there too.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi I’m the anon that asked for the Soul Eater x Twst Crossover. I really liked how you went about it plus if you’re up to it could you do a Crona!Reader x Vil, Malleus, Leona and Lilia?

I can already imagine Vil’s outrage on their lack of good posture. 🤣🤣🤣

I Love This

Crona was such an interesting character that deserves the world

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I'm not going to include how they would deal with fighting you mostly because without the influence of a certain someone you have no reason to be fighting

plus i don't think they'd stand a chance (but if they did I'd write ab that separately) but anyway...

Malleus Draconia

“What’s wrong, are you ill?”

Your constant deprecating attitude has him pretty baffled

But you are one of his first friends ever so who is he to judge

Not to mention for you to even seek him out you’d have to have a soul connection anyway

He finds himself taking on the more active role in your friendship

“I assure you (Y/n), you are more than capable of being my friend.”

“Nooo, I’m sure I’m worse than scum of the Earth.”

“Yeah, you can say that again.”

“Silence Ragnarok.”

He makes it a point to see if he can separate the little monster from you

Mostly coming up unsuccessful

But he’s more than happy to zap him back into you when he’s being a big nuisance

And since he knows that Ragnarok only seems to bother you when your alone–

“I’ll have to stay by your side then. After all as your friend that's my goal.”

You tend to struggle with basic things even more so than him

And in the way that people are confident with their friends only he is more active with you as well

“Stop whining (Y/n) you’re so–”

“Oh my Seven! Is that–”

“Hello (Y/n), care if I sit with you?”

“I don’t know..I don't know how to handle this kind of situation.”

“ No worries, I’ll help you deal with it.”

Lilia Vanrouge 

“Oi don’t put yourself down like that!”

He still won’t mind this at all 

Because you’re less likely to put yourself out there

He can be the one to push you

Of course into situations he controls

“Ne ne (Y/n) what are you doing? Hiding over here?”

“Ragnarok was getting restless so I–”

“I was getting restless?1 You were the one wishing you could touch that stiff’s tail!”

“It was just a thought, I wasn’t going to do anything..”

“Hehe, how cute! How about we play a game! All three of us, together!”

He’s both an accessory to Ragnarok’s shenanigans and his absolute enemy

He appreciates how much of a blocker your counterpart can be when it comes to other love interests

Though he’s determined to build up your confidence

At least enough so that you’ll let him marry you in the Briar valley

“Now you can handle this can’t you?”

“No No! That’s what I’m saying! I can’t do this!”

“Of course you can, dear aren’t I with you?”

Vil Schoenheit

“What did I say about slouching?! And your head, hold it higher?!” 

“Don’t yell, I really can’t deal with that right now.”

“I’m not yelling, I’m scolding you! Fix your face!” 

You are so right 

He simply can’t stand it

Everything you do is such a waste and he can’t bare to continue his student-career with you…being you 

So forceful beauty treatments, etiquette classes, and confidence exercises

He knows you could be just perfect practically at his level if only we could get you to behave

That's not even considering the even worse behaved Ragnarok 

“Again you miserable leech!”

“Hey! No need for the names Princess boy!”

“Can we really not do this now it's only going to make him angry at me and later he’ll–”

“What did we just learn, (Y/n)!?”

“Not to mumble…”

“And what are you doing now?”

“Sorry but i just don’t think I can deal–”

“Ah ah, we’ll practice on your speech after this. No spouse of mine is going to be so deprecating.”

Leona Kingscholar

“You’re saying this is too hard for you?” 

“Yeah.”

“Too bad.” 

That's his mentality to a lot of your issues 

As long as you're able to do what he wants he doesn’t care

Or so he says 

He’ll slowly encourage you to respect yourself a bit more

And in his opinion his disregard for how you feel is better off in crushing your crappy reality

Now Ragnarok will probably have to survive multiple attempts at Leona trying to turn him to sand

“Stay still, so I can get this dirt off your back.”

“AAAA I’m  A Part of them, You CAn’t!”

“Try me.”

[saezurufeels]

Chapter 47

It's always only a matter of time until I break while waiting for a translation, so I figured a summary is good enough to base my interpretations on 🤡

Anyways, my reaction's under the cut

So in 4 years Sugimoto went from looking kinda dusty, to possessing the jawline of a Greek God. ok

I'm falling at the perfect, upside-down triangular constellation of his freckles 🥰 🔭

University educated and street smart. Lay me to rest

And on top of that he has a good intuition and teases Nanahara with such precision. Truly the son of Yashiro.

The gossip and speculation about Doumeki's alleged woman and dating situation has me cackling. In the next chapter they're gonna start discussing his favourite sex position over some cakes

Mentally inserting myself into that blunt rotation

But, if there's anything I've learned reading Saezuru, it's that you shouldn't trust the tales and gossip in town

The timeskip has not been forthcoming about Doumeki's motives. We're seeing contradicting scenes and behaviours from him

It's clear he is after Yashiro, but he may be dealing with different matters concerning the group, or his lady friend

I mean, when has this manga ever neglected its context?

On to Yashiro

I feel like I don't have much to say. I'm just absorbing and waiting for what's next

The biggest takeaway for me is that unsurprisingly Yashiro doesn't have a defence mechanism to shield him from his own self-perception, which is manifesting itself in severe self-loathing

It's out. It can't be undone. I think it's important to talk about how and why this should have been prevented. But that's a topic for another day

That aside, let's look to the future

The point that Yashiro is at right now: 1) he is reflecting on his life with dread and disdain, and 2) he realized that the people who have done him harm are wrong for what they did

So, at least we have number 2. The tricky part is obviously building up a sense of self-worth

I think that it's absolutely possible to hold both beliefs at the same time. You can hate yourself and blame yourself, and still recognize that someone has harmed you. Our minds are sporadic like that

It's interesting to see that Yashiro no longer connects rape with a hot fantasy, but rather, with real, devastating consequences. But again, this realization isn't a victory for him, as it stands right now. I feel like he needs to be on suicide watch

Yashiro thinking about Doumeki while he's having sex with Inami is a strategy he's always used to distract himself from the pain. When he's hit in bed, he thinks about the last person that was nice to him. He even used to think about Misumi.

His fantasies of Doumeki are cute, but it's also up to Doumeki's next move to see how things unfold

Thus, I'm not really a believer that Yashiro needs to make the next move. Y's "next move" was having sex with Inami. Clearly, not what Doumeki had in mind lol. It's up to Doumeki to let Yashiro trust him not vice versa

Also, I'm not sure if I got this right, but Inami was ok with just exchanging information with Yashiro? Like, sex was not on the table until Yashiro substituted giving out info with sex? If yes, that's telling

You know what's underrated? Doumeki showing up at Yashiro's apartment the next day 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

I mean, Yashiro didn't even have to lift a finger and this grown, self-assured, attractive, and admired man, is rushing to his feet

The sexual and romantic tension between them when they're face to face beside Inami's car....you could cut it with a knife. It's my new favourite panel

I honestly can't even describe how much this whole scene pleases me. If I'm ever gonna use the term alpha male non-sarcastically, it's when I talk about Doumeki in this scene

Doumeki's confidence in this chapter has me quivering, honestly

Judging from Yashiro's facial expression at the end, I wouldn't be surprised if he got goosebumps from D's self-assured attitude

[blueeyedgeorgie]

The One That Got Away-Dream Was Taken

Pronouns: She/her

Word Count: 2.4k+

_____________

'You're gonna be there, right?'

Y/n bit her lip, reading the text message for what felt like the millionth time. She had texted him 40 minutes ago, yet no reply. This had become so much more common recently and she had no idea why. Maybe it wasn't such a big deal, but it felt important to Y/n. Clay would never leave her on delivered for more than ten minutes. Even when he was streaming, he'd text her before he had begun, telling her when he'd be finished.

Tonight was an important night, they had been planning for this for months. A few members of The Dream SMP server had come out to Florida to meet up. They had planned to meet up for dinner and maybe a bottle of wine at Y/n's house afterward.

Y/n admired herself in the mirror, she wore a black dress that complimented her body well. She felt gorgeous for the first time in weeks. Usually, she didn't rely on items to make her feel good about herself. Clay was always there to compliment her or assure she was pretty. But recently, he just seemed to disappear.

It felt so hard to connect with him recently, Clay had become so quiet. Every time she texted him, she was left on delivered for hours if she wasn't left on read. It was rare for him to even send a brief text back to her nowadays. Weeks had passed since the last time Y/n was able to see Patches or hang out with Clay.

At this point, it felt like Y/n was at war with herself. Half of her was so demotivated, maybe it was time to finally leave Clay alone. The other half was demanding they had to keep trying, their friendship was just going through a rough patch right now.

'You know why you're trying to hold onto this friendship, you have feelings for him.' Y/n swallowed hard while the thought of Clay appeared in her mind again. It was true, she had grown a small crush on her blonde friend. But it wasn't her fault, It was because of the way he use to be so protective of her. The way his face lit up when he laughed. The way he just knew something was wrong. 'But that doesn't matter. It's obvious he'll never feel the same way about you.'

Before she had gotten another chance to argue with herself, Y/n's phone had buzzed. Clay? ...Wilbur.

'Hey, I'm gonna uber to the restaurant in the next few minutes. On your way?"

Letting out a sigh, she typed away. 'Getting in the car in five minutes.' She took one more glance at herself in the mirror. "He's going to be there, I know it."

"Y/n!"

"George!" Y/n smiled, picking up her pace as soon as she spotted her friend. Their arms wrapped around each other, holding one another tight. "It's so good to see you."

George let out a short laugh, "It's good to see you too, Y/n." He pulled away from the hug. He had dressed in a suit, they had planned to meet at an expensive restaurant for the night. It was recommended by Clay, it was one of his favorites.

"Anyways, we should go find our table, I think Wilbur's already here."

The pair walked side by side, friendly banter being spoken between them as they entered the restaurant. Nostalgia immediately hit Y/n as they passed through the doors, it wasn't her first time here. Multiple times in the past, Clay had brought Y/n out to eat here. The first time they ate here was the first time she had seen him in a suit.

"Y/n?"

"Oh, yes?" The h/c girl had quickly snapped back into reality, looking to her right. "I'm sorry, lost my train of thought for a moment."

"It's fine, I think I see Wilbur." George motioned to look across the room, there at a round table was another friend from the UK. Wilbur sat down, looking at something in his lap.

Biting down on her lip, Y/n had to fight back the urge to yell aloud; "Wilbur!" And run to him. When the lanky man had noticed his friends, he smiled and stood from his chair.

"Wilbur!" she whispered quietly, trying not to disturb the other tables. Quickly she shuffled over to give as big a hug as she could.

"Y/n!" He whispered back, returning the exact energy she gave.

One by one, more and more friends had arrived. Everyone seemed so happy to see each other. Eventually, it seemed as though each person was lost in a conversation... besides Y/n. She had been staring down at her phone, she was still left on delivered by Clay. 'What a dick.'

"hey, Y/n." Her head shot up, looking across the table. Niki sat there with a smile, "Just curious, is Clay showing up tonight?"

Y/n's smile faded for a second, only to reappear. "I... I doubt it. I haven't received a text message back from him, and he hasn't answered any of my calls for these past few days." She ignored George and Nick, who gave each other a certain look as she spoke. But at this point, it didn't matter. Clay wasn't going to ruin Y/n's night with her friends.

"Here, let me try and call him... would that be alright, Y/n?" George was already standing as he spoke, his phone in one of his hands.

She flashed a faked smile at him, "Yeah, I don't care, Gogy."

With that, George had excused himself from the table, already beginning to pull up Clay's contact before he even reached outside. Y/n help her breathe for a moment, watching her British friend disappear around the corner, out of sight. Usually, 'out of sight, out of mind' made sense, but not in this case. Y/n could feel her stomach doing backflips as she glanced from her phone, checking the time, only to look back to see if George had returned yet. It practically felt like time had slowed down, trying to drag these few minutes out as long as possible.

When George had returned, Y/n could already tell he didn't have good news. Just by the look on his face, she knew Clay had flaked out on all of his friends.

"Clay's gonna be a little bit late, he's bringing a surprise with him."

"A surprise?"

What surprise could Clay possibly be planning? Whatever it was, Y/n hoped it would be something to help keep their friendship from breaking apart. "Did he mention how long it'd take for him to show up?"

"He said, 15-20 minutes."

"So let's just order drinks now, he can get whatever he likes when he shows up.

If time wasn't slow enough while George was on the phone, it felt like she was stuck in time. Y/n had begun to pick at her nails nervously, this was going to be the first time they saw one another in weeks.

"Hey," Y/n felt Wilbur place a hand on her shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts again. "Look."

She glanced up at the entrance. There he was, wearing the suit she had seen him wear for the first time. A giant grin was on Clay's face as he walked, he looked to his left. And there she was... a blond-haired girl wearing the exact same dress Y/n had picked out for tonight. Y/n could feel her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"Hey guys," Clay spoke as soon as he came into earshot of his friends. Looking over the table, his eyes looked with Y/n's for a short second. "I want you to meet Elise."

One by one, Elise had introduced herself to each of Clay's friends. But when she reached Y/n, it felt like a stab in the stomach. "Omg, hi! You must be Y/n!" She was pulled into a quick, bone-breaking hug, "I love your dress! Oh, we're matching! How cute!" She just seemed to perfect, she was so much better than Y/n.

While an extra chair had been pulled up the table, everyone was lost in conversation. Except for Y/n, she had stayed quiet. Every now and then, she'd look over to Clay, who sat across the table. Their eyes would lock every couple of times, a strange feeling laid in the pit of her stomach when it would happen.

It seemed as though Wilbur had caught onto Y/n's anxiety. He was quick to offer his hand, allowing his friend to hold it under the table. Wilbur had always been a good friend to her, if Y/n wouldn't tell Clay about something, she'd turn to her brunette friend. So of course, he knew about her feelings towards Clay.

After placing everyone's orders, Y/n just couldn't take it anymore. Standing, she moved across the table. "Clay, could I get a moment to speak to you outside?"

"Uh, sure... Y/n." He was hesitant to stand. Before leaving the table, he had whispered something into Elise's ear.

The short walk outside was quiet. There was obvious tension between them. When the front doors opened, Clay had begun to speak.  "I-"

"No. Not right here. Around the corner." Y/n didn't stop walking, making a direct beeline for the alleyway on the left of the building. She could hear Clay let out a sigh behind her, only making her fight the urge to yell a brief; 'fuck you,' at him.

When they were finally around the corner, she had turned on her heels to face the 6'3 man. "What the fuck, Clay?"

"What?"

" 'What?' You don't get to ghost me for weeks then reply with, 'what?'  Do you know what a dick move that is? Where have you been?" She practically hissed at him, crossing her arms as she spoke. If it was possible, steam would leave her body from how upset she was.

"I've been busy, Y/n."

"Busy? So that means you cut me out of your life? After being friends for months?"

"You aren't the most important thing in my life, Y/n. You should know that." It was Clay's turn to give Y/n a nasty look. But at this point, she didn't care.

"I know, I shouldn't be the most important person in your life, Clay. But that doesn't mean shut me out of your life." She snapped at him, pushing herself up against his chest, "You know what would've been nice? Not being left on delivered or read. It would've been nice if I could receive a text every now and then catching me up about your life."

"As I said, I was busy."

"Busy! That's your only excuse, pathetic. I can tell you're busy, you have a girlfriend and I never got to meet her."

"Well,-"

"Am I the only one who didn't know about her?"

Clay froze. he knew this was the end of the line for him.

"Clay." His silence spoke loud enough. "I'm happy for you, I really am. But... it fucking hurts, you know." Y/n let out a short giggle, she could feel her eyes watering. "I loved you, you know. I loved you so damn much. If you told me to do something, I'd do it with hesitation. But it's crystal clear the feelings aren't mutual."

"Y/n..."

"No, it's fine. I'm gonna leave. Don't worry, I've ruined the night, I'm sorry. Enjoy your time with your friends, Clay. Don't let me rain on your parade any longer." Y/n had stepped back, trying to move past her friend.

"Y/n, listen to me."

"Move, Clay. God damn it."

For a few seconds, Clay continued to try and catch her attention, refusing to let her past. "Y/n, shut the fuck up. Listen to me." Out of frustration, Clay had grabbed onto the girl's shoulders, pushing her against the wall. Y/n looked down at the ground, batting back tears. "Y/n..." he sighed, moving one of his hands under her chin gently. Carefully, he made her look up at him. He always hated seeing her cry.

"I'm an idiot. A big one. Y/n... I love you too. I just didn't think you felt the same, so I decided to push you out. I looked for love somewhere else and I found Elise. But Y/n, I really do love you."

"No, you don't..." Y/n whispered softly, she shook her head as a dumb smile appeared on her face. "If you loved me, you would've made a move. You wouldn't have closed me out of your life for weeks. You wouldn't have found someone new to love. Please don't bullshit me, Clay. You know I'm not stupid."

"Y/n..." clay could feel his heart begin to crack, it hurt to see her like this.

"Please just let me go," her voice was soft as she spoke. He really did hurt her heart. "I want to say goodbye to my friends."

"I..." Letting out a sigh, he stepped back, "alright."

Clay watched as Y/n disappeared around the corner, wiping tears from her face. Why was he such a fool to let her go?

Y/n smiled as soon as her table came into sight. It would all be quick and easy. As soon as Elise noticed her, she stood from her seat. "Oh my god, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit chilly outside," Y/n replied, pulling Elise in for a hug. "It was so nice to meet you. You're such a lovely girl to talk to."

"Right back at you," Elise smiled at Y/n, taking her seat again.

One by one, Y/n gave each of her friends a hug goodbye. When Wilbur held her, she was quick to whisper something brief to him: "Walk me to my car?" Wilbur nodded, taking her purse for her as they walked out. On their way out, Clay had passed by them. He kept to himself, looking the other way when Y/n came into sight. When he was out of earshot, Wilbur spoke up.

"Are you okay?"

"Honestly, no. I just wanna go home and cry." Y/n let out a huff of breath. She was speed walking to keep up with her tall friend.

"Do you want me to tag along?"

"Please." As the night continued on, it seemed like both Clay's and Y/n's moods had changed drastically. While Y/n was at home watching movies and laughing with one of her best friends, Clay was stuck in the place that reminded him of Y/n, thinking about how she'd be the one who got away. Did it hurt him? Yes, but he deserved it. He was the one who ruined it all. Nothing would be the same after tonight.

[ladyintree]

she starts to smile,  because while she didn't know back then what mikayla was going to mean to her someday,   it makes her happy knowing that she gave her some bit of comfort back then.   mikayla always did the same when tai felt alone and struggled to connect with anyone.    ❝  I didn't realize it meant something to you.  it meant something to me, too, ❞   she assures,  shrugging her shoulders.   ❝  you were one of the only people in our class who,  like,  I don't know--  talked to me back then. ❞   it's funny thinking about how their relationship turned out those following years,  but maybe this was always inevitable anyway,  ever since the game of spin the bottle.  her eyes roll and she lets out a soft laugh.  ❝  says you—   you were always a way bigger asshole than me,  ❞   she claims teasingly,  because she's not even sure if that's actually true.   her perception of mikayla has always been skewed for many different reasons.  she doesn't need her to finish to know what she's trying to say,  her head nodding slowly.   ❝  —  it's okay, ❞   she says quietly.   ❝  now,  I can give you whatever you want,  ❞   she says quietly,  rubbing her hand over her arm.  ❝  —  with limitations,  ❞  she adds,  quickly glancing to their surroundings,  because there's not much they actually can do here.   it's an attempt at a joke,  even if it's mostly empty,  because it's hard to stay lighthearted about their situation.

she lets out a sigh,  relieved to hear that mikayla's content.  she smiles again,  trying to focus only on her,  ignoring their surroundings no matter how hard it can be.   ❝  it's enough for me, too,  ❞   she says quietly.   it's a big part of her even choosing to keep fighting every single day,  because she's not sure how she'd keep going on without her,   no matter how determined she's always been.   she brings her closer,   pressing a long kiss to the side of her head.   ❝  good,  ❞  she whispers.   ❝  because one thing i'm always going to be sure of is that I love you,  mikayla,  ❞   she says,  just in time to pull back again for her eyes to meet hers,   showing her how much she means it.

her brows furrow as mikayla pulls back,  eyes following hers down to their hands.   she doesn't know what's on her mind,  but her hand gives her a small squeeze,  silently telling her it's okay,  whatever it is.  she's thrown off when she mentions marriage,   still unsure where this is going.  her eyes follow hers again as she looks up,  their eyes meeting once again,  and she tries to process what she's saying.  it almost threatens to make her panic —    not because she doesn't love her with everything,   not because she doesn't see a life with her,  not because she doesn't want to marry her,   but because it means submitting to the wilderness.  it means accepting their fate,  accepting that they're actually stuck here and the idea of going home may not even ever be a reality.   she's had to adapt to that way of thinking months ago,  when she first failed to rescue her team.  but this is different —  it feels like mikayla is accepting that this is their life.  and maybe she's not wrong to.  it's been almost a year of living this way,  almost a year of making this their home and learning how to live with that.  and mikayla's right to suggest it—   they would have never gone here at this age back at home,  but it's what they've come to be out here.   this is taissa's wife.  so she ignores the way it feels like admitting defeat,  ignores the fact that if they're ever brought back home,  things are bound to be different.  all she wants to think about right now is saying yes to her.   

❝  you want to be my wife?  ❞   she says quietly,  a small, shy smile tugging at her lips as she nods her head slowly.  there's a slightly hint of hesitation in her eyes,  but it's not about mikayla,  and she can feel it immediately,  so she tries to clarify before mikayla gets the wrong idea.  ❝ I don't want to believe this is all there is for us.  all of this—  I still want to believe we're going to make it home some day. ❞   she takes a deep breath before going on.   ❝  but I do know that I couldn't be in this place without you.  I—   I don't think I could ever be anywhere without you.  yeah,  mikayla.  i—   ❞   she cuts herself off,  a more teasing expression on her features as she tilts her head to the side.  ❝  —  wait,  that is a proposal, right?  ❞    she teases, unable to stop herself.

mikayla's not sure how much faith she could put in tai's words, not because she thinks tai will forget it, but because if they're still here in a year, she doubts the date will matter to any of them anymore. it's already started to not matter to her, losing track of the day, the month, because it feels meaningless now that every day just feels the same.

“ kind of hard to forget. ” again, not because of any feelings she might have had at the time, but because even just some handmade card was special to her, something completely unfamiliar to a girl who never received anything before. “ well— that was before you grew up to be an asshole. ” she knows it's the opposite, that she's the one who got meaner as they got older, especially toward her. mikayla shakes her head, because she would have never expected tai to give her anything before— if anything, it would have only made her feel suspicious, like it was some kind of joke for someone she assumed hated her to be the only one acknowledging her birthday. “ no, it's fine— probably better you didn't. my dad would've... ” she trails off, not wanting to finish the sentence, because he doesn't deserve to be thought about.

she doesn't think she'll ever get tired of hearing that from her, almost tempted to ask tai to say it again, but she stops herself, not wanting to come off as too desperate for validation. her brows furrow, hand squeezing hers. “ no, baby, this is— this is enough. just being with you is enough. i don't need anything else. ” that's not entirely true, because being back in civilization with her would be preferred, but mikayla can't let herself dwell on that, forcing herself to be grateful for what she has in the moment. mikayla closes her eyes, hating to think about the possibility that they might not be together some day, because it's the only thing that really keeps her going, but she chooses not to argue, to insist that she won't let that happen. “ i won't forget. i promise. ” it feels impossible to, anyway, knowing that this is the only good thing she's ever been sure of.

— that makes her consider something else, pulling back from tai just slightly, looking down at their intertwined hands. she opens her mouth, then closes it again, hesitant to say anything at all, because it feels stupid, bringing it up. but she loves her, and this might be all they ever get to have, so she ignores her nerves, forcing herself to speak before she could second guess herself. “ a few weeks ago, i think, akilah said something— about, like... um, marriage. ” she grimaces, afraid to look up at tai, afraid she sounds ridiculous. “ i didn't say anything about it then, because it felt... dumb. and it's not something i would've ever thought about at this age before all this, but— ” mikayla lets out a shaky sigh, steeling herself to finally lift her gaze and meet tai's eyes, trying to muster up all the confidence she has. “ but i don't know what's going to happen out here, if we're going to— you know. but i do know that i love you, and i'm always going to love you. so it's not... the worst thought in the world. marrying you. ”