#I was nine when I started wondering if my parents would just get a divorce already

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

How the Bucci Gang Loves (as told by tarot)

tags: gn!reader, headcanons, tarot

a/n: when in writer’s block doubt, tarot headcanon your way out. so i decided to do some more for jjba while working on some fics for a series i really enjoy. in my journey of getting someone i know into jojo, mom2 has finally reached part 5 and she loves it so far. she finds the bucci gang pretty interesting and she loves that they are playing a song by black artists for the first ed. ofc... she seriously questions why they picked jodeci’s horniest song fdfdfsd (sorry mista, everyone gets 4 cards no exceptions lol)

deck: true black tarot

giorno giovanna

the moon, anant, nine of pentacles, the world

giorno isn’t one to buy into cliches and fanciful terms like soulmates or twin flames, but if those connections were to exist, he thinks you come very close to them. to let someone in and see the most intimate parts of himself and be allowed to see the most intimate parts of another person, it can’t be anything less than a bond that goes far beyond mortal comprehension. it can’t be helped either that he wants to spoil you. things you mentioned wanting in passing ー books, food, jewels ー giorno gets them unprompted and relishes the look of surprise and warmth on your face when he presents them to you. he worries from time to time that his position in the gang may land you in the crossfire of any external and internal conflicts passione has, but he vows to keep you safe and believes he is more than able to uphold that promise. marriage likely isn’t far from his mind with such a serious relationship, a proposal will definitely be made in accordance to your preferences once giorno feels that the time is right.

bruno bucciarti

temperance, ten of cups, destiny, seven of cups

bruno believes you’re the right match for him. whether you’re his opposite that somehow matches his personality or someone similar but who brings different perspectives to the table he never considered. he’s experienced loss but by overcoming that loss and continuing to move forward, bruno was able to meet you. there has been many ups and downs in his life since the divorce of his parents and his joining passione but bruno is thankful that his choices in life led to your meeting. his past is just more motivation for him to grow stronger to protect you. he lost his family but now he has the chance to make one with you and his most trusted crew by his side. like giorno, bruno hopes to marry you one day. he’s entertained many times to himself a domestic life with you. a nice house, a few kids if it’s in the cards and many happy moments in between. it’s something that is at the forefront of his mind if a meeting gets too boring and his mind begins to wander. but he is in no rush, content to enjoy whatever phase of your relationship you are currently in. 

leone abbacchio

three of swords, strength, knight of pentacles, the devil

call this man a heavy-weight boxing champion because abbacchio fought tooth and nail to remain in the depths of denial about his feelings for you when he started noticing them. someone like abbacchio doesn’t need a relationship, nor does he deserve one. but once unable to be willfully blind and it’s gotten through his thick skull you want him as much he wants you, abbacchio is a dedicated boyfriend. it doesn’t feel right sometimes, indulging in your relationship after everything he’s done. it feels entirely selfish and he wonders if one day he’ll get his comeuppance and this happiness he has will be taken away. but after a lot of pondering what he would do if that day were to ever come, abbacchio made his decision. just as he fought to deny his feelings for you, he’d fight even harder to keep you. maybe it is selfish and it may even be despicable to others that he would dare to be this happy after everything he’s done, but abbacchio will bear those labels defiantly.

guido mista

the empress, king of wands, za warudo, the sun

flirty he may be, mista is hopeless romantic and when he’s in a relationship the man is on cloud 9. you know, the team knows it and to be honest, the whole of napoli probably knows it. mista’s not ashamed to let the whole world know he’s taken by the most wonderful person ever. should you ever voice your embarrassment and insist he doesn’t have to tell the whole world you’re dating, mista insists you actually gave him the time of day and he isn’t taking that for granted. prepare for many whirlwind dates and finding yourself somewhere in naples you’ve never been, taking in the warm sun and the ocean-scented breeze. even if things somehow go pear-shaped, it’s the fact you went through it together that counts in his eyes. mista is a physical lover and he doesn’t hide it in how he constantly touches you. he likes you and he wants you, but he respects your boundaries and will move at whatever pace you want or will gladly keep his urges to himself for your comfort if it isn’t something you desire personally. for mista, what matters most is that you’re happy and comfortable. he’s a goofball but mista is lot more observant than he looks and is very in-tune to how you feel.

pannacotta fugo

ace of swords, anant, the magician, three of cups

when it comes to the question “who fell first and who fell the hardest”, you fell first and fugo the hardest. it takes a while to get through the walls of rationality and fear of hurting others with his blind rage, but once you do, you find a passionate lover behind it. you’re fugo’s friend always and his partner first and in many ways you help ground him. fugo doubts that his problems with the rage he struggles to keep in check will ever dissipate, but thoughts of you when he is close to snapping tends to help stave off his volatile reactions most of the time. fugo isn’t one to date casually and as such takes your relationship seriously. relationships are give-and-take and fugo does so equally. embarrassing he may find things like pda, if he knows you have a preference for it, he will accommodate those desires in earnest. he simply wants you to be happy and if there is anything you don’t find to your liking fugo urges you to tell him. he can’t rectify a problem if he isn’t aware of one in the first place. he shows his love rather than tells. 

narancia ghirga

eight of wands, the fool, the star, page of cups

narancia falls first and falls the hardest. narancia seldom hides from his emotions, nor does he hide them from othersー as such, your relationship is no exception. he loves you and you know it, he tells you everyday with his words and his actions. you’re probably his first love and he approaches romance with an air of child-like innocence. love is a new adventure and for narancia it is equally as exciting as it is anxiety-inducing. he wants to be with you all the time, but he doesn’t want to turn you off by being clingy. he wants to brag to the world about his awesome partner, but he doesn’t want you getting embarrassed by his bold declarations. in the end though, narancia just follows his heart and let’s everything else fall into place, hoping for the best. trusting others and being unquestionably loyal has gotten him into more grief than he can imagine, but it has also led him to the best people in his life. a pearl is the result of a mollusk defending itself against an irritant with nacre and that result is beautiful. so too are the experiences that make narancia himself. 

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

What Representing Men in Divorce Taught Me About Fatherhood | Marilyn York

I'm six years old, and all I can think about is getting the pink Barbie Corvette! I need five more dollars. Luckily for me, it's Easter, and I know that my dad always hides one coveted five-dollar egg. I also know the best egg is the hardest to find.

This year, I'm ready! Before long, I spot it, right in the middle of my sweet '70s swing set pole! You know, the one that runs along the entire top of the set. I scramble to get the ladder and the yardstick and duct tape it to a broom handle.

I fish it into the pipe, and I shove at it hard. It flies out the other side, and by the time it hits the ground, I'm waiting above it like an expectant father.

The egg cracks open and inside … is the very opposite of my grand prize. Instead, a perfectly formed dog turd rolls out.

I burst into loud hysterics. At the same time, my father explodes with laughter. I run as fast as I can to my room, but he's not far behind.

It's time for one of his talks. "Honey, it was clear that you already learned the important life lesson: the harder you work, the better the payoff. So, it was time that you learned another valuable lesson: sometimes, no matter how hard you work, you just end up with shit!"

And who better to teach just this sort of hard-hitting, direct, and painful life lesson to six-year-old me than my father?

I'm a divorce attorney. I've been practicing for over 20 years. I began in Los Angeles, but I've owned my firm in Nevada since 2001. My firm has a particular sub-specialty: men's rights. My nine female employees and I specifically represent men in divorce and custody battles.

And guess who runs the business end of my law firm? My father.

In my practice, we've represented over 2,000 men, 650 of whom are fathers.

My expertise not only comes from my career but just as much from my personal life. I'm a mother. My children are 23, 15, 12, and barely 3. They come from two different mothers and three different fathers. Hooker!

Let me explain. I helped my ex-husband raise our 23-year-old son, whom I didn't birth, from age 5. I share custody of my 15-year-old daughter with the same father. My 12-year-old son sadly lost his father to suicide when he was just 7. And my 3-year-old is being raised at home with his father and me. I literally live my work every day!

So, what has 20 years of representing men in family law while living my own reality show as a wife, mother, and daughter taught me about fatherhood?

Allow me, if you will, to start with the second thing I learned about fatherhood: men parent differently than women. Big surprise! But their influence is crucial in the development of their children. Do you know any mom in the world who would put dog shit in an Easter egg?

Okay, maybe that's a good thing. Let me better demonstrate this point from my legal experience.

When getting my father clients ready for court, I prepare them for this kind of interrogation:

"Who's your children's doctor or dentist?"

"What's the name of your school principal or even their teacher?"

"What grades did they get on their last report card?"

Nine times out of ten, they miss the majority of these questions. Seriously. Does this mean they don't care or love their children as much? I bet it makes you wonder.

But please, hold your judgement. Here are the questions that my father clients can easily answer:

"If your son could be a superhero, what would his power be?"

"What kind of monsters do your kids fear?"

"How high does your daughter feel comfortable flying in a swing?"

"What makes your son feel defeated?"

Yet, in my experience cross-examining hundreds of mothers in family court, these are the harder questions for them.

Most of us know, motherhood brings with it a sixth sense and an unspoken bond to our children. But what about fathers? Even fathers feel insecure about this reality. After representing 650 fathers, I can count on one hand those that felt secure in their instinctive role and significance to their children.

What's interesting is my anecdotal legal experience suggests otherwise. In 20 years of practice, I've had over 100 men take a paternity test - like Jerry Springer. Seriously. Do you know how many were wrong in predicting their biological relation to the child? Two.

This shocked me and taught me my third lesson: fathers, too, have a genetic bond and instinct about their children from infancy.

Forget where you are for a moment, seriously, and close your eyes. I'd like to ask you to feel. Think about your childhood. Picture your father, his smiling eyes, his strong hands. Hear his deep voice. What did you love about your dad? Did he throw you high into the air? Teach you to ride a bike? Carry you home when you got hurt? Push you when you tried to give up? What did it feel like to have a daddy? Secure? Fun? Challenging?

Now, go back in your memories and erase your father from every scene. This is what the other 40 percent of people's childhoods look like.

Just under half the people listening to me, including my own 12-year-old son, felt sad, angry, or blank during the peak of your joy, while playing along. Eye-opening, isn't it?

Nearly two of every five children in America are growing up without their fathers, or 17 million, according to the 2016 census. Other sources estimate as many as 30 million.

In 2011, I joined the board for a local charity called Nevada Youth Empowerment Project, or NYEP. NYEP is a housing program for homeless girls ages 18 to 24. As board president of this small charity, I've been closely involved and gotten to know the girls and their tragic stories over the years. Hundreds of otherwise homeless girls have come to our program. Their backgrounds and what they have endured would haunt you.

Do you know the one thing all of these girls have in common? They all come from fatherless homes. Sadly, these girls aren't the exception; they're the rule.

My fourth lesson about fatherhood came from the data. According to the Center for Disease Control, children from fatherless homes account for 90 percent of all homeless and runaway kids, 71 percent of high school dropouts, and 63 percent of youth suicides.

While you listen to me speak, you have to be wondering, "What makes fathers so crucial?" Honestly, the answer is complex and better explored by psychologists. What I can tell you is that the data unequivocally tells us fathers are vital and yet laws and society undervalue their importance, making it harder for them to be in their children's lives. Even fathers underrate their own value.

I know this data upsets a lot of mothers, me included. But advocating for fathers isn't about diminishing mothers.

While children deserve both parents whenever possible, this crisis is specific to fathers. The occurrence of fatherlessness is epidemic, the effects are catastrophic, and the causes are male gender specific.

Nearly 30 years ago, leading child psychologist Michael Lamb reminded us: "Fathers are the forgotten contributors to child development." Yet, researchers have found that children with involved fathers have stronger cognitive and motor skills, elevated physical and mental health, become better problem solvers, and are more confident, curious, and empathetic.

Sadly, we've had this data for 30 years, and fatherlessness has only continued to rise during this time.

The main contributors to fatherlessness are divorce and out-of-wedlock births. Every 13 seconds, someone in America gets divorced. That equates to almost 2.5 million divorces a year. Lucky me!

Currently, more than 40 percent, or 1.5 million babies, are born out of wedlock each year in the US.

And this brings me back to the first and most significant thing that my career has taught me about fatherhood: family court is one of the critical places where fathers are disadvantaged, and this hurts kids.

Historically, this maternal preference was solidified in the tender years doctrine, which mandated custody of children under age four be awarded to mothers. This doctrine was in use until the 80's.

As the laws progressed, visitation for fathers improved, but it took a lot of years before the law was finally gender equal. In fact, it wasn't until 2017 that Nevada finally adopted a presumption for joint physical custody.

When I began my practice, and until 10 years ago, the best my father clients could expect was every-other-weekend visitation and maybe a dinner on the off week. While significant legal progress has been made, this long-standing bias against fathers still occurs in the enforcement of custody orders, in child support rulings, and it exists in paternity laws.

All the while, the number of kids growing up without dads continues to rise. Between 1960 and 2016, the percentage of children growing up with just mothers nearly tripled, from 8 to 23 percent.

Paternity laws desperately need more reform to protect the 40 percent of children born out of wedlock each year in the US.

Right now, once custody has been ordered, it's illegal to remove a child from their father - usually a felony. But it's perfectly legal, in all 50 states, for a woman to conceal her pregnancy, leave the father's name off the birth certificate, and never tell him he has a child, ever! How is this not kidnapping?

Just as horrible, a woman can knowingly list the wrong father in a child's birth certificate, deceive him, and a short while later, in many states, the wrong man becomes that child's legal father forever. He's obligated to a child that isn't his. And that child just lost their real father with little to no recourse. This is a betrayal of the worst kind. And the law not only allows it, it creates the opportunity.

This is what we know. Every bit of data we have tells us children need their fathers! The law, its application, and society at large disfavor fathers. The law is improving, but the statistics are not.

So, what can you do? We are the change makers, all of us.

If you're a father, make the effort, do everything you can to be in your children's daily lives.

If you're a mother, encourage and facilitate the relationship between your children and their father instead of trying to interfere or control it.

If you're a child, spend time with your dad, ask him to do something, seek his advice and guidance.

If you're an employer, grant the fathers you employ the ability to be at their children's events, to help in their schools, to take sick days to care for their kids.

If you work in the legal field, help us continue to progress, change the laws, and ensure that they're enforced to protect fathers and their children.

The importance of this pursuit cannot be overstated. The fate of nearly half of America's children depends on it.

I'd like to close by asking all of you to do one final thing. Please, stand if you are able or raise your hand - I'm serious, please - if you grew up without a father, if you raised or are raising a child without a father, or if you are a father who's been separated from your child.

Now, look around: the people really affected by fatherlessness. Really, look. Those of you standing and raising your hands aren't numbers. You're real living and feeling humans. You're the children scarred by fatherlessness.

Now let me tell you who can't stand.

The 1,000 fatherless children who were murdered last year.

The 3,000 fatherless children who died from drugs.

The 3,200 fatherless children who committed suicide last year.

And the 14,000 fatherless children who were incarcerated.

Everyone, please, stand for them! And do everything you can to help the remaining 17 million fatherless children avoid these fates.

Thank you.

==

The statistics on fatherlessness and the impact on development and society as a whole are remarkable. And we've known about them for decades.

https://www.baltimoresun.com/opinion/bs-xpm-2014-10-08-bs-ed-child-custody-20141008-story.html

The negative impact on our children is dramatic. For instance, according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the U.S. Department of Justice and the U.S. Census Bureau, children raised by single parents account for: • 63 percent of teen suicides, • 70 percent of juveniles in state-operated institutions, • 71 percent of high school dropouts, • 75 percent of children in chemical abuse centers, • 85 percent of those in prison, • 85 percent of children who exhibit behavioral disorders • And 90 percent of homeless and runaway children.

If you worked on just fatherlessness, you'd do more good for kids - including and especially black kids - than any bogus woke "systemic racism" campaigns.

[ Source: Pew Research ]

Of course, activists don't want to do anything, both because it undermines their grand oppression narrative by admitting that there are other problems, and because it means the problem could actually recede and make their activism and ideology obsolete.

You might wonder who would be against shared parenting by default. NOW, the National Organization for Women, has spent decades fighting shared parenting bills.

"[Presumptive joint custody] creates an unparalleled opportunity for belligerent former spouses to carry on their personal agendas or vendettas through the children -- and with the blessing of the courts." -- NOW Executive Vice President Kim Gandy.

That is, fathers only want custody of their children to harass and control their ex. According to the experience of an activist.

[antiqua-lugar]

Ooh, I'd love to hear about #19 and #23, for any and all characters you'd like to talk about! :)

!! In a desperate attempt to keep this short, I will do #19 only for the three Tavs that have actually appeared on my blog and #23 only for Caradoc because he is the one I have most material on.

19. Any memories that stick out to you/your Tav about their life pre-tadpole?

Caradoc:

Around a year before the tadpole, it’s technically night but the birds are already singing outside, he’s drunk at the bakery his best friend works at. Their other close friend Kava has just left Baldur’s Gate like every summer to collect new material, new tales and new songs. Like every summer they are deeply aware that this might be the year she doesn’t come back. He’s looking at Felix, a Deep Gnome who almost was a Paladin but instead ran from the Underdark all the way to Baldur’s Gate, where he is now putting a fourth tray of bread in the oven, like every other night.

Caradoc wonders aloud how it must feel to love something so much you keep almost dying for it. Felix just snorts and says almost dying for things is vastly overrated. In his personal experience, their life would not be better if they almost died on a daily basis. His boss might suck but it is way better than a Duergar slaver. Or a Drow.

Caradoc doesn’t say anything because it’s four in the morning and he is drunk as hell and he doesn’t know how to explain that he is a Tiefling and a Wild Sorcerer and he loves his family and he loves his friends and his community and he even loves his job and he knows he is lucky but sometimes. Sometimes. He would like for his life to not be just about keeping his head down and getting from one day to the next.

Elendris:

Forty years after his marriage, ten years after his divorce, ten years before the tadpole, he is working alone at his workshop on a special sword he has been obsessing about for months, he is tired and sleep deprived and accidentally hits his hand. He drops everything immediately and as he is healing himself and feeling relieved that it’s nothing serious he remembers that before his wife used to heal him herself and take him to bed. He is one hundred and forty years old and she left because him because he is incapable of love. He will die alone.

Cedric:

It’s not a specific memory, but a promise. His parents died when he was around six, he ran away from the orphanage he was in when he was around nine and after a year of living on the streets he was taken in by a dragonborn druid who took pity on him and started training him. And he loved it - he liked that it made him feel close to his wood elf father, he liked that when he was a crow no one thought he was a girl, he liked that someone cared and he especially liked that his master was going to go back to his grove with him. It was a promise of a place where everything could be well and he could finally belong. 

Then his master was robbed and murdered in the streets when he was thirteen and his choices were being a criminal with money or an honest man without it, which is not really a choice. The grove is not a promise anymore - just a dream. They would not approve of how he is using Silvanus’ gifts anyway.

23. Share any hcs/anything you want to say about your Tav’s backstory

Caradoc is a Mephistopheles Tiefling from his father’s side and while the details got lost during the way, they are pretty sure The Ancestor Who Fucked Up was a wizard in Thay (who then, presumably, was using his Tiefling children as slaves). Because when I read Mephistophele I think Faust.

While Caradoc was happy being Just Some Guy he did sometimes feel bitter about the fact that having to not “stand out” wasn’t exactly a choice. First, he is a Tiefling. Second, he is a Wild Sorcerer. Third, he is poor. There is a reason he learnt to bullshit like a pro.

Caradoc has three parents! His biological parents are both Tieflings and moved to Baldur’s Gate specifically so their children would face less discrimination and they could find a community with other Tieflings and similar Others. His human father is a ranger and gave him his surname and his name. The official story when they attract unwanted attention is that his human father is living with them because he is a dear family friend who lost a leg during a job. 

Caradoc’s best friends before the tadpole are a Deep Gnome called Felix who left the Underdark “Because it sucks” and a dragonborn bard called Kava who moved to Baldur’s Gate to pursue her calling. He and Felix are also roommates. He can’t wait for them to meet his new best friends from tadpole times.

Caradoc’s contacts in the city aren't useful when it comes to defeating the Netherbrain but they are amazing after the battle is done. He can get the rest of the Tiefling refugees out of Wyrm’s Crossing and his friends don’t have to be homeless (although Felix had a heart attack when his best friend reappeared after going missing for weeks with a wizard and a vampire in tow). 

He really likes dancing and he and his friends regularly went to a specific tavern in his neighborhood for it. He sometimes day dreamed of doing it with a partner but he never really fell in love before the tadpole. Gale is in for a treat.

He never told Wyll until Act 3, but like. Fuck the Fists. Little Caradoc did not have a good time with the Fists.

[camaro-and-smokes]

Just humour me, ok? - Is She for Real? Part 5

Warnings: Heavy angst Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, OFC Tags: Angst, feels, OH THE FEELS, hurt

Links to all chapters on tumblr on Part 1 >>

Read on AO3 >>

::::::::::

"So, Allison, can I just run it by you once more so that I'm sure I got it right?” Billy snarled.

Allison took a deep breath.

"Just humour me, OK? So. If I as a man am with a woman and we're married, and we decide to make a baby, we get to be parents. Right? Even if I would do nothing but beat my wife and the kid? It's still my kid, right? Even if I'm put to jail, the kid is still mine."

"Billy..." Steve started.

Billy looked at Steve sharply, pointing a shaking finger at him. "Steve. Shut the fuck up."

He turned back to look at Allison. "OK. So the same goes if I'm married to a woman and we want to adopt. More or less the process goes so that there's a kid who needs a home, we sign the papers and go home happy with a child. Even if it turns out that for some fucking reason we end up divorcing, the mother gets the kid, she becomes a drunk, and the kid lives a miserable life since age seven up until eighteen when she or he can move away from home. It's still their adopted kid. Right?"

"Mister Hargrove..." Allison tried to start.

"No, no, no, I'm not done yet,” Billy hissed, the words flying out of his mouth with a vengeance. “Now, here we have a situation where two adults, who have lived together for nine years, who love each other and who have decided to live together for the rest of their lives, are looking for adopting a kid. They have steady jobs with relatively good pay, they own a house, and have healthy lifestyles, in average, and they both love kids. With them any kid would be loved and cherished from day one until the end of time. And they're literally willing to give a home to anyone who needs it. What they don't have, is a permission to marry each other, and that's because they both happen to like men. So, in this case, when I'm together with my partner here looking for a chance to give a loving home to any kid who needs one, I'm suddenly not suitable to be an adoptive parent to anyone. Can you see my problem?"

"Billy, this doesn't change any--" Steve tried to calm Billy down.

"Shut up, Steve!" Billy snapped. He kept his gaze locked at Allison. "Because I just can't wrap my head around the fact that in order me becoming a suitable parent it seems, that I would have to like to fuck women or marry one, even though neither of those things tell anything about how good of a father I would be." He shook in anger and clenched his fists. "And I know that I would be at least half decent, because I could never hit my child." The last words came out bitterly, accompanied by a big tear, that he swiftly wiped away. He took his jacket and stormed out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him, making both Allison and Steve flinch.

Steve shook his head. “I'm so sorry. He's--this has been very emotional ride for us both. And he wears his heart on his sleeve.”

“I understand,” Allison replied. “I'm sorry too.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Do you know if there's any other option for us to try?”

Allison sighed and interlaced her fingers, leaning her arms on the desk. "I know how important this is to you. I see a lot of applicants who have half the heart in the process than you two do. But our office can't help you with finding a child to be adopted by you. It's just not possible, not after an application is refused. I know it's wrong because, honestly, I think you two would make wonderful parents. I mean that.”

“Well, OK, uh, I thank you for everything you've done. You've been nothing but helpful. And I really am sorry about Billy's outburst.”

“It's alright. He's not the first person to do that. People tend to get very emotional here. Do you need me to call you a cab?”

“No, thanks,” Steve said as he got up and donned his jacket. “Billy will cool off and he'll come back to pick me up. I'll wait for him at the cafe next door.”

Billy came back an hour later and parked the Camaro in front of the office.

Steve walked to the car and sat on the passenger seat.

“Are you OK?” he asked as Billy took the car into the traffic.

“No, I'm not OK.”

“I mean, have you cooled off?”

“For now.”

“Babe, maybe there's still a chance--”

Billy shot a finger at Steve, keeping his eyes on the traffic. “Do not, I repeat, do not say it.”

Steve raised his hands in a placative gesture. “OK, babe. I won't.”

They remained silent all the way home, and the silence continued when they got there.

When they went in Billy walked straight upstairs. Steve remained downstairs and looked up the stairs after Billy. He heard Billy close the door of the room where he had all his stuff. Steve pondered if he would do more good or bad if he went upstairs. When he heard a scream and mirrors shattering he knew that maybe he'd wait just a moment longer, and then take the bin with him upstairs.

Fifteen minutes later Steve went upstairs with a bin and a broom and knocked on the smaller room's door. When there was no reply, he opened it ajar and peeked in. Billy had broken all three full-size mirrors Steve had bought him when they had moved into the house. They had been shopping for drawers, and Billy had checked himself in one of the sample mirrors each time they'd passed it. So, Steve had decided to buy Billy three of them so that he could see himself from all angles in case he wanted to. Billy had blushed and tried to stop him from asking the clerk to get three mirrors delivered. When the mirrors had arrived, Billy had taken him in front of them so that they both had seen themselves throughout, on all angles. Now the room floor was covered with shards. Billy was sitting on the floor under an open window, smoking. His knuckles were bleeding, so Steve left the bin and went to the bathroom to get some bandage and something to clean the wounds with.

He came back with the supplies and sat next to Billy on the floor. "Hand," he said when he had the peroxide ready.

Billy obeyed silently. He winced at the liquid stinging when it touched the wounds, but remained otherwise emotionless as Steve cleaned the wounds and bandaged them.

This is how it always was. Billy breaking himself, and Steve putting him back together, better than new. Steve just hoped that he could stitch Billy back from this blow, too, but he wasn't at all sure he'd manage this time.

"Babe?" he asked.

Billy said nothing.

Steve took Billy's hand in his, and after a while Billy squeezed it. Hard. Steve looked at him, and saw tears streaking on his face. Steve got up pulling Billy up with him. They sat on a small couch in the back of the room and Billy fell on his lap, crying big, ugly sobs.

"I'm so sorry, firecracker," Steve managed to whisper before his own tears started falling on Billy's hair.

When finally all of their tears were spent for the night, they remained on the couch, even though it didn't quite fit two men properly.

"Do you want something to eat?" Steve asked quietly. “You haven't eaten anything the whole day, I guess? You never eat properly when you're expecting something. You went for a run in the morning, you must've spent all your energy by now.”

"I'm not hungry."

"OK. What if...” Steve tried to think of something that could make Billy feel better. “What if we took a shower? It might make you feel better. I know I could do with one. Just a shower, nothing else, OK?"

After a while Billy nodded, and they got up.

Steve let the water run until the bathroom started to fill with steam. There was nothing erotic in their intimacy in the warm shower. They hugged, and Steve washed gently Billy's hair, then his own, and Billy's back, and then they hugged again. When the water started to cool, telling them the boiler was empty, they got out.

"Do you now want something to eat?" Steve asked again.

Billy nodded.

"OK. I'll see what we have in the fridge."

Steve made them eggs, because there was nothing else left in addition to some mayonnaise. He remembered that he had thought of getting groceries after the meeting at the adoption office, but when the meeting had changed everything for them, he'd forgotten all about it.

He looked at Billy, who was picking at his food. He didn't remember seeing Billy this broken in a long time. Maybe on one of the nights when Billy had come to Steve's after Neil had probably, yet again, come up with some new sadistic way to humiliate his son. When Billy had seen Steve, Billy had broken into tears, and Steve had just held him the six hours he'd been there. Steve didn't know to this day what Neil had done then, but he knew how much it hurt Billy.

"I'll call in sick in the morning. I can call to the workshop too, if you want."

"OK."

[kurokoros]

2am spiral feels bad man

[coffeecatsandcandles]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈- 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐲

➵ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | dad!bucky barnes x mom!reader

➵ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.8k

➵ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | divorce, fluff

დ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

You were relieved to see a somewhat familiar face at your daughter’s Parent Day, though you felt your heart leap when you realized it was James Barnes, a man you’d seen only once but couldn’t seem to get out of your head.

Bucky gave a wave with an awkward smile, not knowing if he should say something or just stay where he was- standing with his daughter and three other four-year-olds at his feet. You waved back, and before Bucky could decide, you were already heading straight towards him.

“You know, when Winnie kept telling me about her best friend Willow, I kept wondering when the time would be that I got to meet her parents. I had no idea it was you,” Bucky chuckled, “I didn’t know you had any kids.”

“Mr. Barnes-” you started before he quickly insisted you call him Bucky. It felt weird to say, but you obliged, “Bucky. We met for less than an hour. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Oh really?” he challenged, “Well then I guess I’m just gonna have to stick by you all day. Gotta make sure I know my daughter’s best friend’s mother really well. Don’t wanna send her off on a playdate with some lunatic.” he joked.

You smiled, “We should set up a playdate,” you said, “I bet they’d love that.”

Bucky looked over at the girls, now sitting with their teacher as she went over the arts and crafts project for the day. “Have you been to Parent Day before? Or am I just a jerk for not realizing sooner that you’ve been here the whole time?”

You laughed lightly, trying to keep your voice low so you wouldn’t interrupt the lesson. “This is my first Parent Day. I could never make it before because of work. My days off finally lined up with one and I really wanted to go. It’s Willow’s favorite day. Maybe you’ve met Pietro? He’s been to one.”

Bucky felt his heart shatter. You were married. He was just a creep trying to make moves on you. He pushed the gross feelings for himself aside, a new demeanor taking over him. One that was clear that the flirting was over, that this conversation was strictly platonic. “I don’t think I have? Maybe if you described him?”

“Really tall, dyed blonde hair with dark roots that he’s insisted on keeping since college.”

Bucky tried to reach back into his memories to get an idea of what your husband looked like. “Doesn’t ring a bell,” he said, “sorry.”

“It’s okay, he’s only been to one,” you said, “I remember you saying Winnie has a sister... How old is she?”

For some reason, the way you remembered that little detail made his heart skip. He also felt a little bad, you clearly remembered something so miniscule and he couldn’t bother to remember anything about you. “She’s nine. She’s in fourth grade with Ms. Palmer down the hall.”

“Really? My son had Ms. Palmer.” you smiled.

Married with two kids? Bucky really had to shake this little crush- the last thing he wanted to be was a homewrecker. Before he could ask you about your son, the teacher had released the kids to their parents to fill them in on the project. You and Bucky separated, going to be with your daughters on opposite sides of the room.

Throughout the project, Bucky would try to sneak peeks at you, specifically your hands. He wanted to see the ring- the proof that you were married. Unfortunately for him, you had many rings on, making it more difficult for him to tell if you had a wedding ring. But sure enough, there was one on your left ring finger, bringing a stab to his heart. A gold band with an emerald stone. He caught the clearest glimpse of it as you were helping Willow write out her name on the back of her project.

Bucky had absentmindedly helped Winnie with her project too, though his heart just wasn’t in it like it normally was. He was lucky Winnie was also pretty independent, so she didn’t ask for help often. By the end of Parent Day, all the kids had completed art projects to take home- Bucky would happily add this to his collection of his daughters’ artwork, though the memories of this one might slightly dampen his spirits.

You did have a point, Bucky talked to you once, and you were working. Who was he to assume he knew everything about you? To assume you didn’t have a life of your own- a husband, two kids, a fantastic job. There were times he was caught in this idea that the world revolved around him; it only seemed to happen when he was around a beautiful woman.

What he didn’t know was that on the rare occasion he wasn’t looking at you from afar, you were looking at him. You had to admit, he was really cute. You hadn’t felt like this in a long time- the giddiness. It felt wrong- he was the father of your daughter’s best friend. But wrong in a rebellious, sexy way. Like a forbidden attraction.

As everyone began packing up at the end of the day, you decided to approach Bucky and Winnie, Willow not too far behind you. “If it’s okay with you, would you want to come over? I feel like the girls definitely need some more time together.”

For a millisecond, Bucky’s eyes widened. What kind of sick game were you playing? And you made sure to say it in front of the girls so he’d look like the bad guy if he said no. This wasn’t going to help his attraction to you, but he also couldn’t say no.

Winnie gasped, immediately clinging to Bucky’s legs. “Can we, Daddy? Can we, can we, can we?!”

“Please, Winnie’s dad? Please?” Willow asked, nearly clinging to his legs as well.

You laughed lightly, pulling your daughter back by picking her up. Looking at Bucky, you could tell he was struggling to say no. “Yeah, I guess we can, Win.”

“Yay!” The little girls exclaimed, Winnie jumping up and down and Willow wiggling in excitement in your arms.

“Okay, I’ll see you at four?”

Bucky smiled, “Yeah,” he gave you his phone number to text him, “that sounds great. We’ll see you later, right Win?”

“Yeah!” Winnie exclaimed, waving goodbye to you and Willow as Bucky walked out with her.

Your heart seemed to skip a few beats when you realized that Bucky would be at your house. He’d sit on your couch, he’d drink your water- he’d be in your home.

Was your house even clean? Willow was in a messy room phase. Your son, Elliot, had a habit of leaving his schoolwork on the kitchen counter. You were never home enough to make sure your home was picture perfect. Surely as a father of two kids himself, Bucky would understand that homes aren’t always as put-together as they are in magazines, but you wanted to be the exception. You wanted to show him that your life wasn’t as messy and unkempt as it felt.

Not too long after leaving the elementary school, you found yourself waiting in the pickup line at the middle school, rolling down the window and waving your hand when you spotted Elliot. More and more every day, you swore he was beginning to look like a carbon copy of his father. His face lit up when he saw you, picking up his pace to get to your car.

“Hey beautiful boy,” you said, ruffling his hair as he got in the front seat, to which he bashfully smiled and leaned away from, slightly embarrassed.

The hardest thing for you to accept was that your kids were getting older. Elliot especially, as he was your first child and getting to the age where he didn’t want to seem like a baby. Willow was still in that sweet spot where you and her father were her favorite people on the planet. Elliot, on the other hand, was getting older. And with that age came embarrassment when you showed your love and him insisting on being more independent.

“How was school?” you asked, Willow beaming from behind you in her car seat, still excited for her playdate in a few hours.

“It was fine. I got an A on my history project,” he said, setting his backpack at his feet as you drove out of the pickup line.

“Way to go, bud! That’s awesome!”

“Are we going to see Dad at all tonight?” he asked you, making you sigh. You knew that’d be the next thing he asked, as if spending time with you wasn’t enough. You’d just worked all day, every day for the last week, getting home when both the kids were asleep and leaving before they woke up. You hadn’t seen him in a week, and he still wanted to see his Dad instead.

“He’s gonna be working, so no. Not for a while. But Winnie is having a friend over later. If you want, I can call one of your friends’ moms and see if they would want to come over too.”

You peeked over at Elliot, still focused on the road ahead of you. In the split second you saw him, you could tell he was a little upset with this news. “No, it’s okay.” he sighed, “I’ll just work on my homework.”

You decided to say nothing in response, pulling into your driveway and turning the car off as Elliot began to make his way into your home. You helped Willow out of her seat, and upon entering your home, you were pleased to see that it wasn’t a total pigsty. The worst thing of it all were the few dishes in the sink left from the kids’ breakfast, but that could be fixed in minutes.

You turned to your four-year-old daughter, playfully putting your hands on your hips. “Okay, Willow. You and Winnie are gonna be playing in your room, right?”

Your daughter giggled at the sound of your fake bossy voice, “Yeah,”

“So if I go up there, and there’s clothes and shoes and toys everywhere, what do you think I’m gonna say?”

“To clean it- but it’s not messy, mommy! Look!” She grabbed your hand and the two of you made your way up the stairs. And sure enough, Willow’s room- for the first time in months- was nearly spotless.

“Daddy helped me when you were working!” she said, obviously proud of herself.

“He did?” you asked, smiling over at your daughter, “You did such a good job!”

Letting Willow change her clothes, you exited her room and pulled out your phone, making your way back downstairs. 3:58. Bucky and Winnie would be there any moment.

So, I brought the kids home and the place WASN’T a total pigsty, care to explain why?

You sent the text to Pietro, and within a couple minutes, you got a reply. You must’ve caught him while he was between his lectures.

I know you’ve been stressed covering Pepper. Just thought you could use a nice surprise.

You smiled. Less than a minute later, he messaged you again.

The hardest part was Willow’s room. I don’t know where that girl gets it from, she’s a mess.

You chuckled.

It was a nice surprise. Thank you. And she gets it from you, dummy. Don’t think I’ve forgotten what your dorm used to look like.

Within a few moments after hitting send, there was a knock at your front door. You heard Willow squeal from upstairs, running down to answer the door with you.

Bucky’s breath hitched at the sight of you opening the door, completely ignoring his daughter running inside to play with your daughter. “Hi,” he said, noticing the ring on your finger yet again. Of course you wanted something non-traditional, it was just like you. But it was almost like it was mocking him. He couldn’t see you without seeing that emerald stone on your finger. The constant reminder that he was treading dangerous territory by having a liking for a married woman.

The playdate went on as you both expected- both Winnie and Willow got along like long-lost sisters and enjoyed each other’s companies. They brought you imaginary tea in teacups when they had a tea party, and both you and Bucky were their patients when they decided to play doctor. But their interactions with you were limited, and for the most part, you and Bucky were left alone in the living room.

You talked about Elliot and your job, he told you about Rebecca and how he was a veteran and mainly focused on being a stay-at-home dad now. Though occasionally, he did offer to fix any leaky faucets or busted engines around his neighborhood.

“So you’re kind of the neighborhood handyman, then?”

“I guess you could say that,” he laughed, “Although there was this one woman about a year ago- I think she might’ve purposefully broken her stuff.”

“Really?”

“She was older, recently divorced. I mean, I could relate, you know? I figured she needed a friend, or something else,” he laughed, “but every week, there was a new thing she needed me to fix.”

“Oh, she wanted to get in your pants, for sure.”

“Now I see that,” he laughed, looking at his watch and realizing it was a quarter after six o’clock, “Oh, Becca should be finishing up her rehearsal soon. I better get going.”

You stood as Bucky briefly left to retrieve his daughter. You could hear how upset the girls were that their playdate was over, but Bucky quickly recovered, saying this definitely wasn’t going to be the only time they got to spend time together. You heard Willow and Winnie say goodbye to each other, and Bucky and Winnie soon came down the stairs hand in hand.

“Go grab your stuff from the kitchen, we’ll leave in a second, okay?” Bucky said gently to his daughter. It really warmed your heart how much he loved this little girl, you couldn’t imagine how loving he must’ve been with his other daughter. He was so gentle, so kind. They definitely had a wonderful example of a good human being as a father. When Winnie left the living room, Bucky looked back at you, a bright smile on his face. “We definitely need to do this again.”

“Absolutely. I know Willow is not going to stop talking about this for a while.” you giggled.

You noticed him step closer and closer to you, but you didn’t back away.

“It was really nice seeing you again,” he said. Before you could reply, and before Bucky could stop himself, he leaned in to press his lips against yours.

The kiss didn’t last very long, in fact it lasted less than a second, but it was heaven. Bucky couldn’t shake the feeling of your lips briefly on his even after he pulled away, but he knew it wasn’t right.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay,” you insisted, bringing your hands to his shoulders to calm him down, “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”

“You don’t have to tell your husband, I promise I won’t do it again- but if you want to and he kicks my ass, that’s fine too. Just let me know before he does, because I’m not much of a fighter-”

“Bucky,” you said gently, “I’m divorced. I’m not in a relationship.”

Your words rang in his ears, almost as if the very idea that this was okay was an idea that his brain rejected.

“But- you’re wearing a ring,” he commented, gesturing at the gold band with an emerald stone that’d been staring at him since he first noticed it.

“Oh, that’s not a wedding ring- well, it kind of is, it kind of isn’t. We were still kind of broke when we actually got married, so he got me this not too long after Willow was born. Both her and Elliot were born in May, it’s their birthstone.”

There’s a pause as Bucky tries to wrap his brain around the concept and make himself believe that you are actually single like him. “But, whenever you talk about parenting the kids, you always say ‘we’, I just assumed-”

“He’s still very much a part of their lives. We co-parent, but they live with me. He still has a key to the house- we’re just not together anymore, but we’re still friends. I have the papers to prove it.”

Bucky sighed in relief, “Okay, thank god.” he said, making you laugh, “but still, if you don’t want me to do it again, I won’t. I should’ve asked.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the problem,” you said, noticing Winnie turn the corner with her jacket and bag in hand, ready for Bucky to pick up Rebecca and take her home.

You leaned in close to make sure she wouldn’t hear. “I do want you to do it again.”

-

tagged: @katzvelvet @melissad1974 @treatbuckywkisses @lcandothisallday @whatinthestyles @rebelliousburgeradvocate @prentisswrites @blue786sworld @lets—be-honest @stillthatbetch @seybox @danielle-leah1997 @buckybarnesbitch00000000 @glupolizam @livstilinski @5lutty5arah @whoreforbucky-barnes @multifandom-girlie @witchy-whore @jackiehollanderr @babebr @dearmasaddict @itsmeatballworld @bbgem329 @silentkiller2374 @stumbleonmywords @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @bitchacho25 @dreamerglassesgirl @rosepetalsinwinter @winterwhore @shytypeaq @spadessaga @foundinthefridge84 @rebeccapineapple @rosadiazsprecinct

[ceciiibaby]

A Morning to Remember (18+) Part 2

Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for all of the love and support that you have shown to Part 1 of this story!!!! I love this community so much and I am incredibly excited to keep adding on to this series while we wait for more Fezco content 😓 As always, if any of you lovely human beings have any suggestions for a potential story or even just general feedback, please do not hesitate to let me know. I utterly hope you enjoy this filth 😌

Warnings: Smut on top of smut, passionate and loving Fezco, mentions of praise kinks, swearing, and fluff towards the end

"Oh fuck baby. Your fingers feel so good." As (Y/N) feels her eyes gradually begin to roll towards the back of her head, she can't help but think about all of the times that Fezco has made her feel this way. It would probably come as as surprise to some, given the young man's distant and unapproachable demeanor, but Fez has always cared about the feelings of others. Years ago, when Ashtray came home from his first day of school in tears, the only thing that Fez wanted to do was make him happy. He wanted the tears to stop as quickly as they had started. And he never wanted to see them flow down his little brother's face again. That, to him, is the true definition of love. "How the fuck am I supposed to love somebody and not do what I gotta do for 'em?" These are the words that he told (Y/N) the first time she asked him why he cared so much about taking care of her. Before meeting Fezco, (Y/N) could not remember the last time that someone in her life had gone out of their way to do anything for her. After her parents decided to get a divorce when she was just 10 years old, (Y/N) quickly learned how to set her thoughts and opinions aside for the sake of her family. She never wanted to upset anyone or make them feel worse than she knew they already did. The silence became her comfort zone, and that is where her Fezzy had found her, all those years ago.

It was not easy, in the beginning, for (Y/N) to let her boyfriend do so many things for her. But there was no limit to his kindness, and he wanted her to see this. As their relationship progressed and the lovers began to do what all teenagers in love inevitably do, (Y/N) was pleasantly surprised to discover just how much her man wanted to please her. Fez would never hesitate to spend hours with his tongue between her legs, showing her in seconds the things that he could not say. This was his home away from home, and as he tasted her sweetness and felt the way her body responded to him, Fezco knew that he would never get enough of this paradise that only he would ever know about.

For (Y/N), the feeling was much deeper than the orgasms. The physical release that he gave her body was wonderful, and she always went to sleep feeling like she was on cloud nine, but the strongest effects of their lovemaking were felt in her brain. Fezco knew her body, but he also knew her mind. He knew how much it aroused her to have his undivided attention. And he knew that after being considered a second thought for a majority of her life, (Y/N) was dying to be a priority. She would never verbally say this to him, out of fear that she would sound selfish, but Fezco could see how much she wanted to be admired. His angel was craving some appreciation, and he would not rest until he knew that she was fully satisfied.

"I wanna spend the rest of my life just like this, baby. Feeling all of your sweet juices running down my fingers. Fuck, I wanna taste you so bad, angel." "Fez, if you don't stop talking like that, I'm gonna cum." Fezco can't help how he feels in this moment. He wants her to know how much he loves it when she has an orgasm because of him. "You feel that, mamas." He has his clothed erection pressed into her thigh as he watches her grab the sheets from the bed under them. (Y/N) is certain that she is going to explode once she feels more pressure being applied to her clit. She suddenly feels the heavy weight of Fez's cock against her thigh, and as she knows that she cannot hold her release back any longer. "Open your eyes, beautiful. Let me see your face while you cum all over my fingers. Fuck, baby. How the hell did I get so lucky?" Although this is not the first (or the last) orgasm that has come from Fezco, (Y/N) is overwhelmed by the incredible feeling that courses through her body. "Hey angel. You're okay. Take a deep breath for me. You did so good." (Y/N) is certain that she is going to cum again when she opens her eyes and sees Fez sucking her juices off his fingers. The moans that fall from his lips are enough to give her the energy that she needs to push him down onto the bed. "It's my turn to take care of you now." Fez immediately wraps his arms around her waist and sits against the bed's headboard. "You already have, gorgeous." (Y/N) playfully rolls her eyes at this and rubs her hands down his warm chest. "You know what I mean, smartass." They stare into each other's eyes as they laugh, feeling their love lingering in the air around them. "I know, mamas. But I don't want you thinking about me. I'm good as long as you're good." (Y/N)'s heart swells more than she thought it ever could. She loves this man with every fiber of her being. And she is going to make sure that he knows it.

"Oh fuck, (Y/N). Your pussy feels so good." The sounds that she is making on top of him has Fezco's mind in shambles. Grabbing onto the headboard for stability, (Y/N) can only close her eyes in pleasure as she feels every vein on his cock rubbing the inside of her walls. "Mmmm. Damn, mamas. I'm not gonna be able to hold on much longer. You look too fucking good right now." (Y/N) moans out louder than she intended and Fezco pulls her body against his, smashing his lips against hers. "I got you, angel. Let it all out for me." Fezco places one hand on the small of her back as the other holds her face above his. He feels her walls clenching around his cock, and he knows that she won't last much longer. Looking into her eyes, Fez is positive that he can see his future. This is his person, his one in seven billion. And no one else will ever be enough for him. "I'm gonna cum again, baby. Fuck. I love you." He can't wait any longer. She is truly perfect. "I love you too, baby. So much. Now cum for me, sweetheart. I'm right here with you. Forever."

[insomniacwritersblog]

the friendships between the five girls in murder most unladylike are really important and here's why

this will contain SPOILERS for all nine books in the mmu series, so read at your own risk

*cracks knuckles* i don't actually crack my knuckles, but this is probably gonna be long, so settle in

ever since once upon a crime came out i've been back on my mmu bullshit, and i was thinking about how good and important the friendships between daisy, hazel, kitty, beanie and lavinia are, and how much they all support each other, which is so important. here's why

kitty: i'm starting with kitty, because out of all of them, she has the most solid support unit in her family. she has a nice middle class life, with a nice family. her parents also seem to have a pretty solid and healthy relationship (in top marks for murder, we find out her mother is pregnant, and given that kitty and her sister are already in their teens, this indicates that their parents have a pretty healthy sexual relationship; obviously pregnancy can happen easy, but i hope you get the point). anyway. in jolly foul play, kitty's younger sister "runs away", which kitty is worried about given that her sister had been involving herself in the fallout of the murder and the gossip about the older pupils at the school. the rest of her friends help find her sister. i can't think of many other instances where the murder cases get personal for kitty, but when she needs her friends, they're there for her. another note, kitty is really protective and close with beanie, and has beanie stay with her during the christmas holidays while her parents are away because beanie's mother is ill (this is in the case of the missing bunbreak which is a short story - also! - kitty gets beanie a dictaphone because beanie isn't so good at writing stuff up)

beanie: out of all of them, beanie is the one that seems to value her friends the most, and this really shows. most obviously is in jolly foul play, when beanie knowingly puts herself between her friends and the girl they just discovered is the murderer. beanie. who originally has this nickname because she is physically small. she ends up in the school hospital afterwards, but she was able to protect her friends. beanie's friends are also very protective of her, probably because she is so loveable, which we see in top marks for murder. remember when her dad shows up by himself, and beanie is freaked out because she had recently seen a man strangle/attempting to strangle a woman in the woods? she goes running off, and her friends go after her and hug her and reassure her. good stuff.

lavinia: lavinia as a character is complicated, but here we go. she is very much the "gruff character with a heart of gold" character, but it feels pretty reasonable. in the very first paragraph of the first book, it is mentioned that lavinia comes from a "broken home" i.e. her parents are divorced. i think we find this out even before we find out hazel is chinese. so yeah, given that divorce was pretty uncommon in the 30s, escpecially among wealthier people, i think this affected lavinia pretty hard, and as a result of the fallout from her parents' marriage, she decided she didn't need anyone (this is my interpretation, take it or leave it, but i have proof. it's mentioned that lavinia has older brothers, so i think even when she was a child growing up, lavinia didn't have the experience of parents who loved her and each other, that their marriage was on the rocks for a while, and eventually they decided to just end with divorce, damn the repurcussions, damn the fact that it will be a talking point at their daughter's school). she also doesn't have a significant best friend, which must feel kind of lonely in her dorm because kitty and beanie are best friends, as are daisy and hazel. but she's not entirely a lone wolf, even if it seems like it at first. daisy and hazel's first case is finding lavinia's tie, because lavinia asked them for help. when daisy inducts lavinia into the detective society in the fourth book, it's because lavinia asked to be part of it, and even though she mocks daisy's solemn rituals, hazel notes that she seems pleased to be part of it. when daisy and hazel come back to school at the start of the book, lavinia makes a "we didn't really miss you" comment, but hazel can tell she doesn't mean it. hazel also notes that lavinia seems pleased when the others tell her and daisy about lavinia being good at tennis; this contrasts with the tennis exhibition scene later in the book when her father's fiancée is cheering her on. essentially, lavinia's rejection of parental figures means that she probably values her friends all the more, and the support they give her. a couple of instances of her being a good friend to the others that stick out as well: in jolly foul play, when kitty's sister binny is found, and binny says she is hungry, lavinia is the one to give her some chocolate. lavinia also decides to crash at kitty's during the christmas holidays rather than spend them with her father and his fiancée. this has got too long, let's move on.

daisy: a bit like lavinia, daisy can be a bit mean to/reject others, which i think comes down to her confidence and self-assurance. these are great personality traits, don't get me wrong, but there can be downsides to them. for example, in jolly foul play, daisy feels less self-assured about her friendship with hazel because hazel and alexander have started to write to each other after meeting on the orient express (i'd also point out that this is at a time when daisy probably needs support more than ever because she and her family are probably still dealing with the aftermath of the murder and murder trial, which was probably quite a big deal). at one point, hazel sees daisy making lists and writing notes about the murder, the things that hazel usually does during an investigation. we can put this rejection of friendship with hazel down to daisy's insecurity. even earlier in the series is arsenic for tea, where i can think of two significant moments. firstly, daisy and hazel see her mother secretly making out with a man that is not daisy's father. rough, which is why afterwards hazel comforts her. the second instance is when daisy and hazel overhear a conversation between the butler and daisy's father, and without complete context, it seems to confirm that daisy's father is the murderer. at first daisy won't acknowledge it, and hazel has to practically put the words in her mouth, which is a pretty tense and emotional moment. it's not really an argument, but hazel has to force her best friend to confront the fact that her father may have committed a murder, which again ties into her self-assurance. in the first book, hazel writes about the honourable daisy wells; popular, pretty, clever, the daughter of a lord. she is storybook perfect, but in the second book, we see that things aren't as perfect as they seem. daisy finds out her mother's infidelity, and later fears that the father she adores may be a murderer. her self-assurance about that everything in her life is golden begins to falter, and so she relies on herself and her friends to work through the murder case. daisy is also a good friend though, especially to hazel. yes, she can be mean and teasing sometimes, but ultimately she is a good friend. when hazel's grandfather dies in a spoonful of murder, the first thing we hear daisy say about it is "i guess i'm coming to hong kong then". hazel needed daisy and daisy is there for her. daisy comforts hazel through grief over her loss, jealousy about her new baby brother, and guilt about the subsequent kidnapping and murder that takes place. and in death sets sail? daisy saves the life of hazel's youngest sister may. literally, because may is maybe seven or eight, and probably can't swim. hazel and her family and everyone else is panicking, but daisy kind of just runs straight into the situation, never mind the danger, she has to save hazel's sister. and she does. also a couple of things to note about this scene, when daisy turns to look back just before she goes overboard, hazel wonders if it was because amina was watching, and daisy wanted to impress her. but hazel also hears daisy say her name just before she goes overboard. in that scene, through all the stress daisy was thinking about hazel, her friend, and saving her friend's little sister.

hazel: finally, we come to hazel. out of all of them, maybe even more than beanie, i would say that hazel values her friends the most. for the obvious reason, her family lives on another continent, and therefore it's important to have some strong connection with the people she does have near to her. at first it's just kind of necessity? when she first comes to deepdean, hazel is shy and no-one really talks to her, and she is pretty much just a sort of curiosity, very much the "other". it is after daisy watches hazel's failed experiment in fitting in with the other girls, and realises how she is clever and observant and puts on an act for others (which hazel also recognises in daisy), that daisy decides that they're going to be friends. it's also my theory that this then leads to kitty, beanie and lavinia befriending her a bit more. while they probably weren't unkind or r*cist to her, they probably let the "otherness" of hazel's ethnicity and nationality act as a barrier to properly getting to know her, which was probably exacerbated by the fact that hazel is quite introverted (compared to amina for example, who is very outgoing and lively, which meant that everyone at deepdean immediately loved her - there is something to be said about the fact that people probably didn't regard amina with the same amount of "otherness" because if they can have a asian pupil at their school, why not an african one?). hazel is also a kind person, which makes her a good friend to the others. near the end of death sets sail, she helps look for the cook's brooch which had been a gift from daisy, and later comforts kitty about not having a boyfriend. but hazel also relies on her friends, and they support her. when hazel's grandfather dies and her father wants her to come home, she insists on having daisy with her. kitty tells hazel about the fact that alexander is clearly pining for her. in the first book when everyone is discussing the teacher that has gone missing (because she's been murdered) beanie brings up a rumour that the teacher is "an agent for the East" then panics and apologises to hazel (something hazel notes that only beanie would think to do). there are other facets of hazel and her friendships, that i could explore, but i am tired and this has gone on long enough.

if you have reached the end, congratulations. hopefully you enjoyed this essay length ramble about female friendships in the murder most unladylike series

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 5

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationship, swearing, past drug use, alcohol

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes:

Parts ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR

Your injury, and consequential recovery time, couldn’t have come at a better time. The harvest was done and the apples had to rest before being pressed, which meant Frankie was now free to start working on your home. The work didn’t often require more than two hands so the days found you doing menial tasks being his gopher.

“You know,” Frankie had had to explain to you, “Go’fer this, go’fer that.”

This mainly consisted of you passing him tools while he was swearing under his breath in the attic, or groaning after rapping his knuckles under the sink, or white-faced and clinging to the weathervane on the roof. 

You had discovered Frankie’s sweet tooth on the first day of renovations, not noticing until after he’d left for the day that more than half the cookies you’d baked that morning were already gone. Making sure he was kept happy, you had a new treat ready for when he walked in the door. 

He was a coffee drinker though, and while you owned a coffee press you had never actually used it yourself, preferring tea leaves for your dose of caffeine. You’d tried, the first morning, to make a cup for him. You even googled How to Make a Cup of Coffee? to make sure you didn’t fuck it up. 

You could laugh about it now, but the look on Frankie’s face after he’d taken his first sip made you worry you had poisoned him. He had spat the black sludge out and handed you back the mug with a look of bewildered disgust. Apparently, you needed to grind the beans first, who knew?

An efficient, if not quite comfortable, rhythm had been forged between the two of you over the past week and a half. Frankie would arrive at nine in the morning, scarf down half a dozen treats while discussing the day’s projects. You would run to town in his truck (yours was still at the autobody shop awaiting parts) and buy any supplies that would be needed while he set up the worksites and organized the tools that would be required.

You had added popping into the local café for a large coffee for Frankie and a red rooibos latte with almond milk for yourself. The first couple of days you had bought him a brownie too but stopped after he’d only half-finished the first one and mumbled through the crumbs in his mouth that yours were better. It only took you three days before the owner had your order ready for you before you even walked in the door, five days before you noticed the sidelong glances the little old ladies were giving each other as you walked out.

Small towns, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes, had the unique benefit and downfall of everyone knowing everyone else’s business. They’d quit with the hardly-concealed smirks if they knew how awkward working with Frankie was becoming.

You had been sure, in the immediate aftermath of waking up in Frankie’s arms while his truck sat in your driveway, that he was never going to speak to you again. The two of you and hopped out and began explaining away whatever conclusions Jacquie and Mark had made. Then Frankie, without even looking in your general direction, told Jacquie to get you inside and have your wrist looked at. 

To his credit, he had taken care of everything regarding your truck for you. The tow truck came and hauled it to the yard, Frankie had commandeered the inspection report and, after calling them out on trying to swindle you into buying unnecessary parts, had ordered what was needed and paid. 

You had, naturally, argued against this but you both knew you weren’t in a position to afford it. Frankie shut down your arguments gracefully, and broke his apparent vow of silence, with a gruff “I’m just doing it so I can drive my damn truck without you changing the radio station.” The absolute charmer.

It was your damn house, though, so you decided you'd talk as much as you wanted and it would be up to him to interact. Either that or you had music blaring from the radio, never playing his favourite country station purely out of spite. 

Never quite sure if he was listening or not, you rambled on about anything and everything. You explained your vision for the house and the plans you had for a greenhouse in the yard. Memories from your childhood were described in great detail, as were embarrassing stories from your year in college. Baking tips, waxing poetic about your love for sunflowers, interesting animal facts, you'd even downloaded a Word of the Day App and made a game of fitting the words into your daily uninterrupted monologues.

It took three days for Frankie to break.

You had been reminiscing about your trip to Disneyland as a child when he abruptly cut in, voice muffled due to the nails being held between his lips.

"You never talk about it."

You assumed he was referring to the little all-day nap you’d shared in his truck, as it had yet to be spoken of, but were taken aback by the slight accusatory tone.

"Talk about what?"

He took so long to reply, you started to think that he had interrupted purely to shut you up. The silence demanded an explanation though, so you kept your mouth shut and waited.

Clambering down from the attic, where he had been strengthening the trusses throughout the sagging section of roof, Frankie pinned you with his gaze and softly repeated himself.

"You never talk about it. The time in your life when you were married." He must have seen your hackles rise because he quickly set down the hammer and held his hands up in a placating wave.

"You still haven't answered my question about being in the army," was your quick response, finished with an ever-so-mature, "so there."

With a resigned sigh, Frankie twisted his hat around backward and scrubbed his hands across his face. "Come on" -waving you towards the patio doors- "these kinds of conversations require fresh air and a drink."

Reluctantly you followed him outside but rather than sinking down onto the porch swing you opted to lean against the post facing it. Opening two ciders, which you now had free access to, you handed one to Frankie and watched him over the top of the bottle.

Half of your drink was gone and your mind had wandered to greenhouse and flower garden placement before Frankie spoke again. His voice low and quiet catching you by surprise.

"Yeah," he broke the silence with another ragged sigh, "I, uh, I served. Started in the Air Force, worked my way up to Special Tactics Squadron. Made enough noise there to get recruited to Delta Force."

"Oh, fuck," your exclamation was soft with shock "you've seen some shit then." Blast your runaway mouth and its inability to wait for your brain to catch up before blurting out your inner thoughts. "I'm sorry!-"

"No, it's okay" Frankie interrupted, trying to reassure you and remove the horrified look that had come across your face. 

"No, no, that was totally uncalled for. Brad, my um, my husband, he was a Marine. He hated talking about it, said no one liked talking about it. I should have known."

"It's not that," Frankie reassured you again, "You were the first person to ever ask me about it, in all the time I've lived here. Just took me by surprise."

Leaning over in the swing, Frankie pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed you a photo from inside it. Five men beamed up at you. You could recognize them from a few of the photos that had rested on Frankie's mantle, they looked older in this one.

"Tell me about them?" you asked, knowing that most of the request was due to curiosity but a small part of you hoped that if you kept him talking you could avoid the subject of your marriage.

The sun was beginning to set and you'd long moved inside to eat dinner by the time Frankie was done sharing. It must have been cathartic, you mused, for him to bare this much about himself. He had never looked more relaxed in all the time you'd known him, which wasn't saying much and it could just as easily been due to the amount of alcohol thrumming through his system.

The room fell into a companionable silence, each of you digesting the information that had been revealed. You were in awe of the fact that, despite the life of violence he had witnessed, Frankie still maintained his humanity. Even after a messy divorce and lost custody battle, Frankie continued to choose the path of healing. He was clean, was fighting for shared custody of his daughter again, running his own business, and still had found time to endear himself into the town's hearts.

Frankie was, for all his sharp edges and gruff words, a sweetheart.

It put into stark comparison how Brad had reacted to the lemons life had served him. Born into an upper-middle-class home, the only son, doted on by his parents, Brad had been raised into a life where every door was open to him. Despite this, or maybe because of it, he had grown hateful of those weaker than him. He was controlling but had just the right amount of charm to pass it off as caring.

"I've met men like that," 

You nearly jumped out of your skin from surprise. Looking at Frankie with wide-eyed shock you wondered again what the hell was in the cider. This was the second time you'd poured your heart out to a virtual stranger, but this time you hadn't even realized you'd started speaking your thoughts aloud. 

Squaring your shoulders and holding Frankie's gaze you continued, almost challenging him to find someone worse than Brad had been.

"He made me quit college because he said he wanted to start a family. Then berated me and acted like it was all my fault every time the pregnancy test came back negative. You know what that asshole did?" Tears were threatening to fall but you held on to Frankie's gaze, "He had gotten a vasectomy months earlier. I didn't find out about it until after he died; going through paperwork that had been stored in his desk."

Frankie was up on his feet now, pacing around the kitchen island, too distraught to keep still. How could anyone be so cruel? Let alone be so cruel to someone as sweet and pure as you. He hated seeing you cry but knowing you weren't receptive to people being in your personal space, wasn't sure how to comfort you. 

Acting on pure instinct he grabbed the kettle and started preparing you some tea, not allowing himself to ruminate how he knew which flavour you preferred. Setting your favourite pottery mug in front of you, along with the little honey pot, he also decided to grab the fluffy throw blanket off your couch. 

"I get it now," he thought to himself offhandedly, "why women have so many fuckin' blankets and pillows in every room."

Placing the throw around your shoulders he was preparing to say goodnight and let you have some peace but was stilled by your hand reaching up and covering his.

"Please. Stay."

Part SIX

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[alienaiver]

Half the Battle, pt. 1

Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

find part two here!

warnings: slight angst about childhood/parents fighting/divorce, one (1) bottle of wine is opened, someone is betrayed in Mario Party, NOT beta-read! apologize for any mistakes! (lmk if there’s any warnings i missed!)

wordcount: 5.5k

content: soulmate AU, mild angst, fluff, post-timeskip but slight canon divergence (i haven’t read the manga yet so this is loosely based off of their canon timeskip lives), gender neutral reader, reader is a video editor, reader is bad at eye contact but the details as to why are vague/up for interpretation!

notes: this was made for @gg9183 ​ ‘s wonderful birthday event, a soulmate collab! (go read the other wonderful works!) happy birthday once again, gray!! this was meant to be a 2k one shot but.... plans and inspiration changes sometimes, right? 🥺 so this ended up as a 5k part ONE lmfao i hope thats alright w u!!! part2 will be up asap, i promise!! i hope you enjoy this!!!! 

—————————

Not meeting his soulmate was fine, Kuroo often found himself thinking. The odds of finding your soulmate’s way too low to be realistic anyways, he supported the thought. It’s illogical to spend so much time fretting about it, he finally added for good measure.

Soulmates were a natural part of life, always had been. But with the big wide world filled with over seven billion people, meeting yours wasn’t completely unheard of. But given the powers of soulmates even existing, it wasn’t unrealistic to also believe that some kind of fate would pull you towards each other throughout your lives so that you would meet each other. Kuroo however, prided himself in not caring about soulmates. His life was rich enough. People explaining their feelings about “something being missing until they finally meet them” was incomprehensible to him.

Kuroo had lived for 29 years without being able to see color. And you know what? His life was damn well fulfilling enough. He had a beautiful apartment, an economy that flourished, an adorable cat named Cucumber and good people around him. What would he really need a soulmate for? He could ignore his friends comments on how wonderful the world was in color, if only he would just start looking for his soulmate, how much meaning it gave life. Just because the people in his closest circle had all magically met theirs – not to mention how many of them had already met in Goddamn high school, Kuroo scoffed and was always able to move on.

Even though a lot of people actively made eye contact with everyone they met, even people on the street, to make sure they would meet their soulmate, Kuroo kept his eyes down. He wasn’t insecure, come on, he was perfectly happy! He just didn’t need to be late for a meeting because he got eye contact with some stranger, you know?

His life was in perfect balance as is.. Until yesterday, of course. It had turned out there was mold in his apartment complex so they had to evict it for a month while a crew would go through everything to remove it. He didn’t want to go to his mother’s place, that was too far from his work, but he wasn’t in the mood for a hotel, that was way too expensive, so he turned to his best friend of many years with the biggest set of puppy eyes he could muster and the prospect of making every dinner while he lived there.

“Fine… but don’t get in the way,” was all Kenma had to say.

And so Kuroo spent his last weekend in his own apartment packing things down to make it accessible to the cleaning crew. Cucumber hated other cats with a passion so he couldn’t bring him to Kenma’s, where three cats already happily lived, so his mother would pick him up tomorrow afternoon.

__

He sat on his couch, scrolling his phone mindlessly with Cucumber on his lap who had been stressed with all the packing down, sensing something was up. He was being extra cuddly towards Kuroo who, honestly? Didn’t mind at all. He loved when Cucumber was in mood for cuddles, though it wasn’t very often. He had been told his cat was orange and while he didn’t have a measure for what that color actually looked like, he was happy with his gray cat.

His mother was supposed to arrive any minute now, so he should have gotten up and put the cat in his carrier but it was easier to get him in it if you had two pair of hands. He scrolled through Instagram, reaching a photo put up by Tsukishima of his soulmate, the light-haired manager of their high school volleyball club, with a tooth-eating grin on her face and proudly showing off a ring on her finger, the caption said, This smile makes me wanna brag. Kuroo could physically hear the provocative tone of his voice, knowing he was one of the first in his circle of friends to actually plan a wedding. Kuroo clicked his tongue with a smile on his face and double-tapped to like the picture.

He didn’t know if it was the combination of that post and the fact that his mother was on her way but memories of his parent’s wedding flooded his mind. For a lot of people, weddings felt obsolete in the face of the whole “you already got your soulmate and you know this” thing, so a lot of couples were happy not getting married but just being together. But there was also the benefits of marriage in the practical sense, so some people did anyways, some hosting parties, some not. His parents weren’t married when he came to, but after he turned five they decided to do it so he would be protected by both of them, in case of any emergency.

It had been a small wedding, only the closest family and friends but Kuroo was vivid, so excited about being part of that whole romantic ordeal, even helping his mom find a dress and everything. He had been a huge and important part of the wedding – if he did say so himself. Everyone had been glowing at the day, the food was delicious, there was laughter, song and cheers and everyone had brought so many presents – even some for little Tetsurou, who had been very excited about his new train tracks.

But when Kuroo was seven years old, it wasn’t as romantic anymore. His parents were fighting a lot, he wasn’t entirely sure why or about what because they would never tell him about it, no matter how much he asked. When he tried to listen in, the words he heard didn’t explain anything to him because even though they were yelling at each other, the important words were always whispered, as if they knew Kuroo was listening in.

When he was eight his mom had come into his room, hugged him and with tears in her eyes and said that they were going to move away.

“Where are we going?” he asked simply, no emotion to be read on his little face. He was exhausted from his parents being this way – they were soulmates, right? Why did they fight like that?

“To Tokyo, just you and me, my love.”

That’s when he met Kenma. He had been very closed-off and shy back when they met, he reminisced. He had been a regular kid when he was younger but the way his parents split up – his soulmate parents – had closed him off pretty bad, so it was a miracle he met Kenma and started opening up again.

Kuroo smiled to himself bitterly before scratching Cucumber’s ear. He supposed this was also why he wasn’t interested in his soulmate. So many people had romanticized the whole soulmate ideal so a lot of people forgot that relationships still took work, took effort and just because they were made for each other, didn’t necessarily guarantee that they would stay together. His mom and dad didn’t officially talk anymore, but when he asked his mom as a child whether or not she still saw color, she said that she did. He also found long letters in her bedroom when he was nine, letters from his dad, so he supposed they still talked together, though Kuroo wasn’t let in on it – nor was he particularly interested. And he definitely we wasn’t interested in ending up in a relationship with someone who would end up not wanting to put in the effort for the relationship to flourish.

After Cucumber had been picked up by his mom it was time to leave for Kenma’s place. He carried the last boxes of valuables down to his basement and locked them in before trekking down to the subway with his suitcase and sports bag.

_____

You were late for work, so you scrambled to pack your things. It was Wednesday afternoon and you were supposed to meet in at 3PM, because that was around the time that Kodzuken had planned to finish his recording, he told you yesterday. You were a video editor and had met Kenma through your old part-time job in his favorite convenience store quite a few years back, back when he had first bought his house when he was 24. You remembered talking to him about video games in the store since you also played some, and after a good while of polite customer service and talk about new games, you had started hanging out outside of work as well. When you had then told him you were actually a freelance video editor but just didn’t get many jobs, he had almost instantly hired you to do his YouTube videos for him and general editing and set-ups of his streams. I know video games, not recording equipment, he had told you so many years ago.

Your original thought had been wary, because working for a friend might get messy but Kenma cared a lot about keeping it professional when you were on the clock, which you appreciated very much. In his house, down by his game room, there was a room next door with screens and all the best editing software just for you to play with. Your pay was higher than average for such a “simple” but regular gig but when prompted about it, he simply shrugged and told you it wasn’t up for negotiation and no one was being treated unfair – and who were you to go against such a good pay for a job that you loved doing and wanted to do full-time? With Kenma being a famous streamer and gamer, he often made lots of different videos for various sites so your job hours resembled a nine to five job, easy, even if the hours were off from the more conventional jobs and you usually came in later in the day and sometimes finished off late in the evening – some of his videos had a time limit for a release date of a game, so there was also days where you were extremely busy and scrambling to get the video done right for a release of a game.

As you closed your bag and ran out the door towards the subway, you checked your phone for any updates. If he’d finished early, he would’ve texted you about it, so you put your phone in your pocket and hurried towards his house.

When you arrived you immediately rang the doorbell before catching your breath, you were used to Kenma spending a few minutes before reaching the door and opening it, so when the door opened almost instantly you took a step back before looking up. The one opening the door was taller than Kenma and in a loose dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top - that’s all you saw before your eyes darted down to your feet.

“...Hi! I’m uh… Where’s Kenma?” was all you got out while fidgeting with your purse strap, it certainly wasn’t his boyfriend Hinata opening the door today.

“Oh, hey! You must be his video editor, right? He told me about you!” The man said, pointing to himself with his thumb,

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou! Kenma’s childhood friend! Sorry to intrude, I’ll be living here for the next month, I promise not to get in your way!” As he finished his introduction, he moved aside so that you could enter. As you took off your shoes you heard Kenma’s feet shuffling towards you, “oh hey, welcome, you’re early,” Kenma said with his usual deadpan expression but you could clearly hear the teasing in his voice.

“At least I’m here now, right?” You smiled back, instantly relaxing at the sight of your boss and friend. You turned to Kuroo again, bowed and introduced yourself before taking off your coat and putting it on a hanger, while Kenma and the guy named Kuroo seemed to bicker a bit about whether or not Kuroo should answer the door while he lived there.

“I’ll go set it up, have you transferred the video files to the hard disk?” you asked Kenma as you moved towards ‘your’ office, sending Kuroo a polite smile while keeping your eyes on his neck.

Eye contact was hard for you, it always made you extremely uncomfortable and you didn’t really have any before you felt comfortable with the person. Your mother had often scolded you, saying you’d never find your soulmate at this rate, which you always acknowledged with a hum or a simple yes without starting a discussion.

You honestly weren’t sure whether or not you cared for a soulmate. Your biggest argument to wanting to find one was so that you could see colors, because it’d help your career. Kenma already had his soulmate, so he was the one deciding the color scheme for his videos and helped with the color-related editing, which worked fine as of now, but you would probably appreciate to be able to do it yourself. You had also spent some years coming to terms with your struggles with eye contact and accept that this was just how you functioned. If you missed your soulmate in a random supermarket thanks to it one day, well, you’d be none the wiser, so you felt sure you’d survive without one, but you also couldn’t deny that the sound of a soulmate sounded really nice and comforting. That someone out there existed to fit you, that you were born to love someone who was also meant to love you. You were sure that finding your soulmate wasn’t a dance on roses, it was sure to still be hard, frustrating and maybe even painful sometimes, but you also couldn’t just have all the good, there was a balance that was sure to exist within soulmates as well.

After hours of going through the raw footage from his video game play and slowly editing while watching it, you popped your shoulders and stretched your arms for a moment, yawning as you did so. Your hours were always a bit intense, but that couldn’t be helped when you had six hours of raw footage to work with. Looking at the clock you saw that it was 5.30PM which meant that soon Kenma would wake up from his pseudo-sleep (which was more like a nap in your opinion) to look at your process and ask what you wanted for dinner.

Soon after a soft knock was heard followed by the door opening slowly, Kenma standing in sweats and a hoodie with bags under his eyes, “do you like hotpot?” he asked, and you smiled at him, “sure, are you cooking tonight?” he yawned while he shook his head, “Kuroo is. He insists on a ‘fulfilling meal’, whatever that means.”

You giggled before beckoning Kenma in to see some of what you’ve done so far and making minor adjustments along the way. “Now, something smells delicious and I’m thirsty,” you stated after the two of you had talked a bit about the rest of the video’s plans. As you went towards the kitchen you could hear the sound of of a nameless tune being hummed, pans sizzling from something being cooked and kitchen utensils being used.

Inside, the table was already set with plates and prepared ingredients lying ready for the pot that Kuroo was just about to put on the table. It seemed he had made an endless supply of different side dishes and really put in a lot of work for it, so you looked really forward to eating it and it smelled delicious. You grabbed a glass from the set table and went to the sink to get some water and just as your hand reached it, Kuroo had extended his hand as well to the sink and you accidentally touched.

You both recoiled as if you had been burned and you couldn’t stop the gasp that accidentally left your lips. A feeling was rushing through your body you hadn’t experienced before and you immediately apologized to Kuroo and went back to the table, foregoing the water. You didn’t notice how Kuroo was frozen in place from when he touched you before Kenma called out to him and he immediately started moving again.

You ended up eating shortly after, Kuroo serving the food and talking animatedly about him and Kenma’s childhood, making you laugh quite a bit at their (or more, Kuroo’s) antics and their volleyball days. Kuroo was the type of person to make you relax in his presence and have fun which you didn’t even notice until you got home later that evening and really thought about what a great time you had had. You found yourself surprised by how easily you clicked with Kuroo, a total stranger. It must be his charm, you thought to yourself before going through your night routine. You had to come back tomorrow and finish work, after all. You estimated the video would take you a few more days to finish but that would end up fitting well with the weekend coming, so as you went to bed you felt yourself more relaxed than you had in a while.

_____

“What are they like?”

It was Friday and it seemed you had finished Kenma’s video and therefor you weren’t here for dinner – for the first time in a few days, which did let down Kuroo just a tiny bit. He had talked a lot with you during dinner preparations when you came out from the office and during dinner as well and while you did answer all his questions (which, he admitted, there were quite a few of them) and follow up with your own for him, it still felt… off… talking to you – and Kuroo didn’t like not knowing why. “What do you mean?” Kenma asked, taking another bite into his mouth.

Kenma swallowed a piece of meat before looking up at Kuroo who was stabbing his plate with his fork in what seemed like a useless purpose. He knew he was being a little weird but meeting you was weird, even though he had no reason to explain why.

“I mean, is this how they usually act?” He didn’t even know what that question meant or why he was even asking it, nothing made sense! But he had a desperate feeling that he needed to get to know you – he was afraid of what that implied and what suspicions he needed to hold onto, but he was sure it was his gut telling him you were dangerous for Kenma to be around – that had to be it! Kenma was his best friend, his childhood friend, it had to be a gut feeling meant to protect him!

“Who knows, they’re being more polite than usual, I think. But that makes sense,” Kenma replied calmly before adding, “I mean you are a stranger who’s really intent on being social with them over our dinners, they were a bit shy as well when I met them,”

Kuroo nodded and finally took a bite of his own food. He didn’t notice Kenma’s raised eyebrows or the questioning look that was sent his way, so Kenma decided to let the subject rest.

Not seeing you today felt weird to him too and he couldn’t help the irritation building up inside him – you had just met a few days ago and only in the evenings when he was done with work and ready to make dinner – and yet, the thought of you kept invading his mind. He had gotten through work today thinking you were going to be there for dinner so when he came home and found out you wouldn’t be there, the first seed of irritation had been planted – why was he suddenly looking so much forward to seeing you? Had it been like this yesterday too? Why was it suddenly important that you weren’t there? He ended up sitting in front of the laptop in the guest room for the rest of the evening, the document left open and completely untouched.

Kuroo, however, didn’t let the subject rest in his head for the rest of that evening. Hinata was in town, having time off after a big game yesterday so Kuroo was left to his own devices – which really wasn’t a problem considering he had to make the paperwork for a promotional deal for a meeting Monday morning that he had procrastinated making – which wasn’t like him at all, he usually never pushed assignments to last minute and he then realized the reason he wasn’t done yet was because he had spent so much time over the dinner table with Kenma and you, talking even after dinner had been done for a while. You always offered to help him with the clean-up so you also spent some time talking there, drifting off to various subjects far passing the cleaning duties and sitting down again with a glass of water.

He enjoyed your company, it felt... easy, somehow, the sensation that something was off was there but it didn’t really settle in his stomach until every time after you left, as if it was left to grow a bit from a small sensation to a problem, which worried him – Kuroo prided himself as an impeccable people-reader, he was captain for both the volleyball team in high school and college, he knew how to act around business relations so well because he could read them so flawlessly – so the feelings he got from you was unsettling and unreadable and it took some control away from him – and Kuroo always felt uneasy when he wasn’t in control.

____

Kuroo heard your name and almost got whiplash from how fast his head moved towards Kenma, “what?”

“I asked if we should invite them? To game night? Being three is a little annoying in Mario Party.”

“Oooh, that’s a good idea! I’d love to see them again!” Hinata happily exclaimed before taking another bite of the lasagna Kuroo had prepared tonight. It was Saturday and Kuroo had been in a daze the entire day, first at the office for a quick meeting with his boss about a potential partner he might be able to reel in soon and then doing his laundry at Kenma’s and continuing to try and make the stupid paperwork but ultimately failing before he had to make dinner.

“Isn’t it a bit late to invite someone? I mean, they could have plans already...” Kuroo tried, knowing what a pain it could be to be asked to something an hour before it happened and he didn’t want to let you go through that – that’s what he tried to tell himself, at least. In truth? He was a bit afraid of seeing you again, afraid of his potential reactions, since he had spent his entire Friday in a stupor just thinking about you. His thoughts didn’t mean much for Kenma and Hinata though, who was already texting you to ask.  “Oi, no phones at the table, have you parents taught you no manners?” Kuroo chided and Hinata immediately shrank back and apologized – Kuroo smirked, yea the Chibi-chan still had respect for his seniors. But he was quickly pulled back to thoughts about you by Kenma’s phone lighting up again, “they’ll be here in an hour. They’re asking if they should bring anything?” Kenma looked up to gauge Kuroo’s reaction, having noticed something about his friend had been off the past few days. He immediately made a funny grimace before turning it into a smile. “Yea, they can bring a bottle of white wine, if I have to beat you all at Mario Party, I would very much like to be a tiny bit buzzed,” Kuroo said, and Hinata looked at him with wide eyes, “you drink wine!? So grown up!” Hinata exclaimed, to which Kenma just muttered, “or just an old man…” Kuroo didn’t hear that though, too busy to fidget with his hands under the table, suddenly feeling nervous that you were showing up.

Hinata plopped down between Kuroo and you with a controller in hand, “I’m gonna beat you all in this Mario Kart!” to which you laughed loudly, “good luck since we’re playing Mario Party.”

“Huh? Is there a difference?” Hinata asked, making Kuroo belt out a loud laugh as well, holding his stomach, “you just told us you’d beat us but you don’t even know what we’re playing!” Kuroo couldn’t contain his laughter for a bit until he noticed how you were looking at him and instantly retracted his laugh, sitting up straight with a cough, and apologizing for being loud, which confused him to no end. He had never been self-conscious of his own laugh! He knew it could be obnoxious and loud, but he also liked it himself, and-

“That’s a really cute laugh.”

The comment earned you the stares of the century from the three other people in the room, with Kenma in genuine shock – he wouldn’t say he disliked Kuroo’s laugh, just that it was… special.

“Uhm… Uh. Thank you?” Kuroo could feel that his blush went all the way to his ears but he hoped that the light in the living room wasn’t bright enough to catch it. “Yeah uh! Sure! Mhm,” you awkwardly coughed a bit as well before reaching for your glass of wine.

You had brought a bottle of white wine for Kuroo on the promise that you’d get a glass too, saying he was your first friend who also liked wine. The word ‘friend’ had dumb-founded him and he’d just answered “you can have it all,” to which you had laughed and said it’s fine with half, you weirdo.

The game was about to begin but Kuroo was still sitting stuck on the fact that his laugh was cute – cute? Had anyone else found it cute before besides Bokuto and his mom? He wasn’t sure – he sure couldn’t pinpoint them right now anyways. He tried to shake it off and focus on the game, though quite a bit of time was spent explaining the rules to Hinata who apparently had thought they were just playing Mario Kart.

When you were 12 laps into it, it seemed that you were set to win with your four stars and 121 coins. Kenma was right behind you with three stars and Hinata and Kuroo had been left in the dust with zero stars. You had stolen Kuroo’s first (and only) star early in the game, so he was plotting his vengeance in quiet but was getting afraid that the game would end before he could do anything to you – but just as his hopes were at the smallest during the last round of the game, you were put in the same team as him in the last mini game.

Kuroo had a wide smirk when you cheered and said, “this’ll be easy then!” because no, it would not be easy for you. If he had to go down in order to take you down a notch, then so be it. He’d rather Kenma win than you did with stolen goods!

The last mini game was “Tow the Line” where two players were put in a sewing box shaped with nine dots as a grid and two players tied together with a string and the objective was to make the shape with the string as shown in the middle of screen. As soon as the whistle sounded, Kuroo lowered his hands and stopped using his controllers, all with a big grin on his lips.

“Kuroo, what the fuck! Get moving, we’ve started!” you yelled at him as Kenma and Hinata won the first round, signaling the next round began, Kuroo started whistling and looking away from the screen, to which you got up from your seat, “fine, I’ll just take your controller and do it myself!”

Kuroo put his arm with the controller behind him, “nah-ah-ah! You’re not winning this, fiend! That’s what you get for stealing my star!” He grinned up at you with his eyes closed as you stood with your hands on your hips, “come on man! I stole that star in the fourth round! Kenma stole a star from me as well!” you tried, “maybe he stole the one that was yours, who knows! Get over it so we can win!”

But as soon as you’d said that, the third round had just been won and you sighed and flopped down on your seat again, “not cool Kuroo, not cool. I’ll remember this!”

You both laughed as the game made ready to announce the winner, Kenma and Hinata entertained by your antics.

“You can’t avenge something that I avenged in the first place! I only did it because you did me wrong, you know!”

“You can’t use logic on me, it doesn’t apply!”

To no surprise, you won the entire game, even winning one of the two bonus stars given at the end of the game.

After the last sequence and a bow from you there was a quick break before you decided to play some Mario Kart for Hinata’s sake, since his argument was that he lost due it being Party instead. You played quite a few hours and after another toilet break you had switched places with Hinata so Kenma could cuddle up against him. You yawned, drinking the last of the wine in your glass and said, “I should head home, I have a friend coming over for lunch tomorrow.”

Hinata and Kenma both started to get up to say goodnight but you waved at them with a smile, “I can walk out myself, it’s fine!” But Kuroo had already gotten up from the couch as well, so you walked with him towards the hallway where you put on your shoes. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, which Kuroo noted and scowled a bit - he might have only known you for less than a week but for some reason he felt like it had been a lot longer, like you were old friends – it felt strange, to be so close with a stranger. He didn’t know anything about you, really. He knew your name, your job and how you liked some of your vegetables and which meat was your favorite, he knew you also loved cats but didn’t have one (he couldn’t remember if he knew why) and he felt pretty sure he would recognize you in a crowded area – why it was so intense, he was unsure of, he hadn’t tried meeting someone this way before. It had also seemed like having this game night had made you considerably more relaxed in his presence, even joking around with him instead of being polite, which made Kuroo somewhat giddy, though it didn’t really make sense to him as to why.

“I hope you had fun,” Kuroo said awkwardly, as if he had been the host and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I did! I’m sorry I stole your star, though,” you laughed, buttoning your jacket.

“Nah, no worries, as they say, all’s fair in love and war, right?”

You giggled and picked up your bag from the dresser while Kuroo opened up the door for you. As you exited, you turned around with a bright smile, “well, thanks for toni-”

Everything ended up a blur, too bright, too much, too noisy, too… colorful? Kuroo was still looking into your eyes as all that went through him, completely blindsided. As he took a proper look, he could see that you looked just as surprised as him, your eyes wide but still never leaving his either.

“Is… Is this? Are you? Is…” You asked after what felt like both days and milliseconds, I could stare at them so much longer, he thought to himself, the colors only making your face more clear to him. Had you really not had eye contact at all? Had you seen each other for several hours – more than a few times, without looking each other in the eyes at all? Kuroo was more baffled by this happening so late than the fact that it was happening.

He was about to say something, anything, when you promptly turned around, nervously yelling, “I-I uh, I gotta go! Goodbye!” as you hurried out of the driveway and down towards the subway.

“W-wait!” Kuroo belatedly and unhelpfully yelled out as you turned a corner, too late. You were gone. A hand was dragged down his face as a sigh left him, what the fuck had just happened? He obviously needed to talk to you about this, but he also needed to gather his thoughts about all of this, so he slowly closed the door and went back towards the living room, greeted by Hinata and Kenma who looked up at him curiously, “why did you yell?” Hinata asked with his head tilted.

“I think I just found my soulmate.”

[headheartbellarke]

HOME | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anon:  "Hi! If request are open can you do a charlie imagine where him and the reader (she/her) met on a project a while back and have been friends for a while, but the reader kinda had a crappy home life so she gets overwhelmed by charlies family being so loving and perfect and she basically breaks down and feels like she doesn’t fit in and isn’t good enough for him? please and thank you so much, ur writing is amazing!!!"

PAIRING(s): Charlie Gillespie x fem! reader

WARNING(s): mentions of abuse, trauma, anxiety, angst, fluff

WORDS: 2,036

SUMMARY: charlie takes co-star and girlfriend y/n home for christmas but that leads to self doubt in her (im so bad at these) [note: this takes place in 2021]

    As Charlie pulls out the key from the ignition, I sigh, wringing my hands nervously. He unbuckles his seatbelt and faces me, giving me a bright, happy smile.

  “My family is so excited to meet you.” He says, reaching forward to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “What if they hate me?” I whisper.

  My boyfriend, Charlie, and I first met on the set of Charmed – we were both in the first episode, but I left it after that due to scheduling conflicts with my other show, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. I had been a part of CAOS since its first episode – I played the role of Sabrina’s cousin, Sarah Spellman.

  Back then, we were just friends. After I left Charmed, we would text and call each other occasionally. Whenever we were in the same city, we would meet up – but that was hard considering we both had quite different lives. So, we didn’t think of each other as more than friends – sure I thought that he was attractive, but that’s it.

  But, in 2020, after CAOS was cancelled, I got a call from the casting director of Julie and The Phantoms: she was the one who had previously cast me in CAOS, and she believed that I’d be perfect for the role of Julie’s British cousin who joins her school after her parents relocate to LA – I also play Reggie’s love interest.

  I texted Charlie immediately after my manager finalized all the details for the new role. He had been excited and when shooting started in 2021, we were pretty inseparable.

  After a few weeks, I had developed a major crush on him ad the rest of the cast had also picked up on that. They were also convinced that Charlie liked me (which I didn’t believe at that time but later found out that it was, indeed, true) and they used to tease us about it all the time. Finally, a couple weeks before production ended, he asked me out on a date and it’s been really, really great so far.

  We’ve been dating for about nine months now and honestly, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s my home – all my life I’ve always felt lost, but I feel like I truly belong with him.

  Now, he laughs. “Baby. I promise you – they already love you. My mother’s been bugging me to bring you home ever since we started dating, and you’ve already met Megan, and she loves you.”

  “If you say so.” I say, still not convinced.

  He grins and we get out of his car and face his childhood home. I take a deep breath, shaking off my nerves. He knocks three times on the front door, and it opens immediately after.

  A petite, blonde woman steps out, with a wide smile on her face. She opens her arms as Charlie yells, “Mamacita!”

  “Mon chéri. Ça fait trop longtemps!”

  “Je vous ai manqué!”

  I have absolutely no idea what they are saying, but the scene in front of me is so heart-warming. Charlie’s mother is genuinely happy to see her son – one can tell by the way she’s holding him, almost like he’s a little child. Charlie is quite a couple inches taller than her, but he’s nestled his face into her shoulder.

  I can’t stop a grin from breaking out on my face. It’s honestly rather lovely. But I also feel a slight pang in my heart knowing that no one ever greets me like this when I go home.

  They separate from each other and she squeezes his shoulders, looking at him with so much love that I have to look away. I have never seen a mother look at their child like that, with such intense love. That’s dumb, I know. Mothers are supposed to love their children. But all my mother ever looks at me with is disappointment, anger, disgust, and – you get it.

  She notices me next and claps her hands. “You must be Y/N!”

  “Hi, Mrs. Gillespie. It’s so nice to meet you!” I extend a hand toward her.

  “Aw, come here! You’re gorgeous.”

  She pulls me in for a hug too, and for a moment I’m engulfed by the smell of white musk and the feeling of warmth.

  We pull apart and I smile at her, genuinely. All my anxiety has washed away.

  “My son is always talking about you, about how pretty you are and –”

  “Let’s go inside!” Charlie quickly cuts her off, eyes widened as I laugh.

  “But I wanna know what he says!”

  Mrs Gillespie winks at me as Charlie turns scarlet. “I’ll tell you when he’s gone.”

***

    Another roar of laughter erupts around the dinner table.

  Honestly, I’ve never seen a family like this – a family so connected, so loving. All of Charlie’s siblings – from his three older brothers to his little sister are here for Christmas Eve, and all of them are teasing each other, telling childhood stories, and just having the best time. I was, too. That was until I suddenly realized how I don’t fit in here.

  Everyone here grew up completely different than I did. When I was young, about two years old – my dad left my mom and I for another woman. I haven’t seen him since – although, he sends me a postcard and some money on holidays and birthdays. He’s travelling around the world with his new wife and is apparently ‘happier than he’s ever been.’

  The reason he left is because kids ‘freak’ him out and he isn’t ‘ready’ for that kind of responsibility. I mean, it wasn’t like he was fifteen when he had me: he was twenty-seven, and already married to my mother for about two years then.

  Naturally, my mother blames me for her divorce. I was born out of an accidental pregnancy, so my mother made sure to remind me every day that I was unwanted, and my birth was what ‘pushed’ him to leave us. Every single day, my mother told me that I shouldn’t have been born, that I was a mistake, that I was worthless, unlovable and so, so many more horrible things. She used to drink like crazy, and if I accidentally faced her in that state, she would sometimes hit me.

  Years and years of abuse and all that childhood trauma led me to develop a fear of abandonment, trust issues, intimacy issues, anxiety, and depression. Throughout school, I had been closed off, unable to form relationships and friendships with other people. I had feared anything and everything – I couldn’t even maintain eye contact with people.

  Of course, when I auditioned for CAOS and moved away to LA, away from that toxic environment, I got help and turned my life around. (My mother was incredibly happy to see me go since she had married another guy and now has a family with him – so I was the only thing left that reminded her of my father.) I learnt to accept, prioritize, and love myself – but I’m still working on that, of course.

  But, I know, deep down, no matter how well I am, or how happy I am – there will always be a part of me that’s broken. I’ve grown to accept that, accept the fact that I’ll always carry the trauma with me.

  But Charlie doesn’t. He’s lived a good life, and he deserves someone who can give him their everything – and that’s not me.

  As much as I hate to say it, I’m not good enough for him.

  He senses a change in my demeanour and squeezes my hand under the table. I give him a weak smile.

***

    “Y/N/N, what’s wrong?”

  I look up at my boyfriend. He has a look of concern on his face as he takes a seat next to me on the couch.

  I sigh into the quiet. Everyone has fallen asleep, except Charlie and I – we are seated in his living room in front of the fireplace.

  “Nothing. I’m just really tired.”

  “That’s not true, Y/N. You were fine throughout dinner – oh my god, it’s the ice cream, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “The pistachio ice cream that Maman made. It was weirdly bitter, eh? It’s okay, you can tell me.”

  I purse my lips. “No, Charlie. The ice cream was great.”

  “Are you sure? You’ve been down since desert.”

  “It’s not the ice cream, babe.”

  “Okay, then, what is it?”

  He looks at me expectantly, and I can sense that he’s feeling anxious.

  “I just – I realized that I don’t fit in.”

  He furrows his brows, but before he can say anything, I start speaking again. “Charlie, you have such a loving and perfect family. And you know how I grew up. What I went through. So, you know that I’m not used to this. I’m not – I’ve never seen love like this in a family, you know. And I don’t fit in here! While your mother was being so nice to me, I kept wondering when she’s going to scream at me. Or when your father was genuinely interested in me, I kept thinking that maybe he’s trying to find a way to get rid of me. It’s just – it’s just the way I grew up, and I’ll always be like this, Char. Your family is so nice, and it shocks me, honestly. And I think that maybe it’s better if you date someone who grew up the way you did, someone who’s like you. Because I have been broken my whole life, and I don’t think that I can give you everything that you need. I don’t think I’m good enough for you. You’re the best person that I’ve ever met, and I think you should be with someone who’s worthy of you.”

  I whisper the last part, and feel a teardrop fall into the space between my collarbones. I look down because I’m too afraid of what he might say.

  I hear him breathe out heavily and I feel him take my hands in his.

  “Don’t you ever say that.”

  “But it’s true –”

  “Y/N. Don’t you dare doubt yourself. You are good enough. No, you’re perfect. You’re the strongest woman I know. I completely understand why you feel what you’re feeling right now.”

  He scoots closer to me and cups my cheeks in his hands. “And it’s okay. It’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to feel shocked. That doesn’t make you a bad person, nor does it make you not good enough. In fact, it makes all the stronger – you went through so much as a kid, and still, you have space in your heart for me. You know, I never doubt the fact that you love me, ever. Because you always make me feel special, make me feel good about myself and always make sure that I’m happy. You always go out of your way to take care of me, and you always make me feel at home. I don’t want anyone other than you. I love you so much and I never, ever wanna lose you.”

  I think I’m fully crying now, as Charlie continues, “It’s okay to feel that way. Take your time. But I’m never leaving you. You’re my person, and you’ll always fit in with me, baby. Always.”

  “Charlie…”

  I look at him properly, and I can see the pain in his eyes as a tear traces along the curve of his cheek. He sniffs, saying, “I’m sorry. I just can’t imagine being with anyone other than you.”

  “Why are you so good to me?” I whisper, my throat still tight from the emotions.

  “Because you deserve someone good, and I can only hope that I’m good for you.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his shoulder as a sob escapes my body. “I’m so sorry, baby. So, so sorry.” I keep whispering that, while he rubs my back, saying ‘it’s okay.’

  “I love you so much, Charlie. Honestly, thanks for being so good to me. You have no idea what you mean to me.”

  I can feel him smile as he says, “I think I have a pretty good idea, yeah.”

***

jatp requests are open <3

[mediocre--writing]

au where steves dad is the abusive one?

ok i saw this whole thing a while back about how nancy slapped steve in s1 and he didn’t flinch or cower away and people said it could be a result of getting used to not flinching...

so steve’s dad is an all powerful, mighty businessman who needs the perfect wife and kid, meaning it has to be that way at home, as well.

steve is kinda used to it. like a little slap here and there are no big deal and he’s a little brat most of the time, so he kinda deserves it.

and, let’s just say, maybe billy moved to hawkins with his mom and her new husband (max’s dad) but he’s still pretty upset with the move. not as destructive, but still mad he’s been pulled from his home.

he befriends steve pretty quickly, they’ve got very similar personalities deep down and they recognize it pretty quickly.

billy’s a clingy friend. he’s the type of person to find one friend and latch on for life.

that’s why it’s so peculiar to him that he’s been friends with steve for almost a year now but has yet to go to his house.

steve’s always busy or his parents are having a brunch party or something. and billy gets it, sometimes you just don’t wanna be at your house and need a getaway, but this is bordering on ridiculous.

ridiculous as in steve has a drawer and a half of his stuff in billy’s vanity, plus a few jackets hanging on the hooks by the door. it’s weird.

and so, one random sunday that billy knew steve had nothing to fill his time on, he goes to his house as a surprise.

he had blissfully ignored the little signs between steve, himself, and his mom. the ones that flinch at loud noises and don’t particularly like bigger men. he figured it was whatever. he’d continue to barge into steve’s life if it was the last thing he’d do.

he rang the doorbell, waited for an answer.

“...nd when i get back there you better get rid of that bullshit you call a sense of humor or i’m gonna give you a real reason to cry!”

billy’s eyes widened at what he’d heard, but quickly composed himself as a man, he assumed john, steve’s father, answered the door.

“hi, how can i help you?” he was buttoning his shirt cuffs and looking annoyed as ever while staring down billy. as if he had better things to be doing.

“i’m here for steve,” billy have a small smile that felt more like a snarl.

“he’s busy right now—“

“but we’ve got a project. it’s due monday and we’re only halfway through,” billy chuckled as if he were telling an amusing anecdote. “you see, i’ve been blowing off our study meetings and he’s been telling me, you know, i’ve gotta do my share of the project, but i’ve been goofing off. you get that? right?

“so, anyway, my moms all on me about my grades and i need this project to boost it up, but i can’t do it without steve,”

john is still staring at billy with a nonamused look on his face.

“what class?”

“english. we’re supposed to compare and contrast whether elizabeth should have gotten with darcy or not. i’m pretty against it, you know. he was so mean to her and his only excuse was that he’s shy? sounds like a load of crap, ya know? but steve’s all for this mushy crap. he swears they should be together forever,” billy chuckles and keeps talking. “you know—“

“kid, if you shut up right now i’ll make sure steve’s down in a second, alright?” john finally cuts him off, looking about ready to rip his own hair out (or what’s left on the sides).

smiling, billy thanks him and walks to stand by his car, waiting for steve.

“go,” john says as he storms into steve’s room.

steve’s eyebrows furrow. his dads gotten mad before, sure, but never just kicked him out like this.

“your little friend... the one with the curly hair... he’s waiting outside for you to complete your english project,” john tweaks an eyebrow as he leans on steve’s doorframe.

steve’s eyes widen then he nods, collecting school stuff, just to make whatever lie billy spewed out believable. he pulls on a shirt and grabs a coat as he makes his way downstairs.

“when you get home,” john starts as he stands near the door, waiting for steve to come down, “we’re finishing our discussion, do you understand?”

“yes, sir,” steve nods as he smiles to his mother, swinging his backpack over his shoulder, which is the wrong move because it smacks and rubs at where the belt had hit earlier.

“go on, don’t keep him waiting,” john opens the door and steve practically sprints out the door.

billy gives a half smile as he gets in the car, steve walking around to the passenger seat and getting in, throwing his book bag in the backseat.

billy backs out of the (ridiculously long) driveway and starts driving out of the neighborhood.

“we don’t... actually have a project i forgot about by some chance, right?” steve asks meekly.

“i’m not even taking english this semester, steve,” billy says as a joke, but it comes out softer and almost sounds like he’s scared to say the wrong thing.

“why did you stop by?” steve asks as the boys pull up near the entrance to the trails that lead through the woods towards the quarry.

billy only shrugs as he turns the car off and gets out, walking down a trail, steve quickly following behind.

“you didn’t answer,”

“i—i don’t know?” billy admitted, shoving his hands into the tight pockets of his jeans. “i guess, i’ve never really seen your house and i was curious,”

steve nods as they continue walking in silence, only the crunching of leaves under their feet.

steve keeps glancing over to billy, wonders if billy can tell what happened by the way steve’s walking or talking.

billy keeps glancing over to steve, wonders what’s going through his head and how badly he wants to cry or scream.

eventually, after about 15 minutes of walking in silence, they reach the peak of the quarry, and billy sits down and hangs his feet off the edge.

he pats the spot to his left when steve stays standing behind him.

steve sits down reluctantly, careful not to scoot too close to the edge.

“my dad is a piece of shit, too,” billy says quietly as he looks over to steve, trying to gauge his reaction.

steve’s big eyes grow even wider before his head snaps over to billy, mouth opening and closing multiple times.

“it’s why my mom and i moved here. she divorced him when i was like, uhh—i don’t know—maybe eight or nine? but he kept bothering us. would show up at night and bang on the door, threaten my me and my mom, all that kinda stuff. it got worse when my mom started dating trevor, he kidnapped me once, when i was 10,

“got me out of school and just took me to his house and wouldn’t let me leave or make phone calls. trevor, he was a police officer in cali, and he was the one who helped my mom find me,” billy smiled as if it was a nice little story. “i don’t know what i would have been like if i’d have gotten stuck with my dad. he was mean and vile and hit my mom and i all the time until we just left, it’s the only thing that stopped it,”

“billy—“

“it’s not a pity story, steve. i’m trying to let you know that bad situations only get worse when you try to solve them on your own. and i know your parents probably won’t divorce or anything, so let me help you because i don’t want something to go too far one day that could have been avoidable if you just had someone,”

“i don’t—“

“don’t what?” billy asked, but it sounded more like a threat.

steve’s eyebrows pulled together and he sucked his lips between his teeth, face screwing up in a way that looked almost painful. “i don’t—i don’t know what i did—“

steve let out a gaspy sob that looked like it hurt coming out of his chest, tears that had been pooling for months finally breaking through the barrier, cascading down his face and, if this wasn’t such a heartbreaking moment, almost made his big brown eyes look prettier.

billy, scooting himself off the edge, pulled steve backwards so he could fall into billy’s chest and let it all out.

“you didn’t do anything, stevie,” billy brought a gentle hand up and down steve’s back and arm, “none of this is your fault, i promise. nothing you have done or will do is ever going to make his actions justified, ok?”

steve nodded his head slowly as he continued to cry, but it was less sobbing and more overflowing emotions at this point.

“do you wanna stay at mine tonight?”

“...please,”

“of course,” billy was tempted to kiss steve on the crown of his head, so he did. “you are welcome whenever you need to come over,”

“i’m scared to go back,” steve whispered, heard only slightly over the high winds.

“you don’t have to go back,” billy whispered in return.

“yeah, i do,” steve whispered again, “he’s already mad you interrupted—“

“interrupted what?” billy asked, wondering why steve left off his sentence.

“noth—“

“interrupted what?”

“was hittin’ me with ‘is belt,” steve said into billy’s chest, quiet as he could.

“stevie,” billy cooed, and, somehow, steve didn’t feel like he was being talked down to. it may have been the way it was said or who said it, but it made him feel safe.

they kept sitting their for another hour, at least, and just enjoyed the noise of nature. not loud men, not threatening home lives, just birds singing and wind blowing and the water lapping below the edge.

[sunmoonandeddie]

marriage story

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 5,641

summary: Fake marrying Bucky was only supposed to be a means to an end.

prompt: college au, fake marriage au, and enemies to lovers

warnings: swearing, talk of past sexual abuse

a/n: This was written for @broadwayandnetflix​ for @bucky-smiles​‘s Secret Santa!  SURPRISE!!!!  I’m so sorry I’m a day late, I just wanted to make sure it was as good as I could make it!!  I really hope you enjoy!!!

You weren’t sure how you ended up staring at divorce papers.

Hell, you’d just graduated college three weeks ago and had miraculously landed your first job that was conducive to your career.

And now, you were a divorcée at the age of twenty-one.

Granted, your marriage had lasted much longer than a lot of those that happened when the two people were teenagers.

It had also been fake, but that’s beside the point.

You read over the divorce papers for the eightieth time since they’d arrived.  Both of you took your individual things, no need for lawyers…

It had all seemed so simple when it first began.  A means to an end.

You were eighteen and stupid.  Desperate.  You had no idea what the consequences would be.

You had no idea that you’d actually fall in love with your husband.

He’d needed to live off campus since he couldn’t afford the on campus housing.  At a minimum of seven thousand dollars a school year, it was ridiculous.  You couldn’t really afford it either, but the school had a rule that you couldn’t live off campus until your junior year, and the two of you were still second semester freshmen.

Then there was the issue with your FAFSA.  You weren’t exactly on good terms with your parents.  And by not on good terms, you meant that you didn’t speak to them.  At all.  Getting their tax information wasn’t going to happen, and it wasn’t like they were helping you pay for college.

But FAFSA wouldn’t let you fill it out as an independent student until you were twenty-one.  Apparently, being cut off from your parents wasn’t enough of a ‘special circumstance’ to allow it.

But, there was one little thing that could fix all that.

Matrimony.

If you were married, you’d have to file independently.  No questions asked about parents.

And the university would allow you to live off campus, too.

It was a perfect solution.  A quick little trip to the courthouse.

Living together had seemed logical.  A little two bedroom apartment was much cheaper than seven thousand dollars for nine months in a dorm room you had to share.

Plus, you had to keep up the illusion to the school and the government that you were married.

Outside of living together though, there wasn’t much needed.  Each of you wore a fake ring when you went to your meetings with your advisor and your classes.  It kept the rabid frat boys away from you, at least.

And then there were the scholarships.  Turns out, there are scholarships specifically for married college kids, and your advisor thought you were just perfect for it because she’d never met such a wonderful couple.

It was all perfect.  Until it wasn’t.

First off, you and Bucky didn’t even really like each other when all of this started.  You only knew each other because you were best friends with Natasha, who was his best friend’s girlfriend.  It had actually been the two of them that had gotten the idea in the first place.

“So, I’m sure you’re wondering why we gathered you here today,” Steve said, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Steve, this is my room.”

This was not how you wanted to spend your Saturday night.  You’d worked a double that day, from eight in the morning to ten that night.

The perks of working at a bar that did Mimosa Mornings on the weekends.  The worst part was that you weren’t even allowed to take a shot or two to help you get through it since you were eighteen.

Stupid fucking law.  If you could work in a bar, you should be able to drink to deal with the customers.  Because fuck, they’re horrible.

But you made more than you’d be making at Buffalo Wild Wings, that’s for sure.

“Can we just get whatever this is over with?” Bucky asked from across the room.  He definitely wasn’t keen to be stuck in a room with you for any longer than necessary.  “I have work in the morning.”

“Same here,” you added, narrowing your eyes at the two who sat in front of you.

Natasha was your best friend and your roommate, but fuck were you ready to put out a ‘New Friends Wanted’ sign.  You could take applications.

Requirement number one: Must not be dating the best friend of the most annoying prick in the world AKA Bucky Barnes.

Requirement number two: Must not be waiting to ambush you in your own dorm room with said prick.

“So, both of you are having issues with the university,” Nat said as she took out a bunch of papers.  “The dorms are crazy expensive and you’re not allowed to live off campus.  Also, FAFSA is ridiculous.”

“And we have a solution,” Steve said, a grin on his face.  He was such a giver.  He loved his friends more than anything in the world and would literally give anything for them.  Seriously.  You’d once watched him actually give the shirt off his back to Bucky when the latter had gotten drunk at a party and puked all over his.

He’d also gotten it on your shoes, and Bucky had just burped and said, “They look better now.”

The disgusting asshole.

“Well, spit it out,” you said, rubbing your temples.  You were still in your uniform, a pair of cut off jean shorts and a tank top.  Your hair smelled like cigarette smoke and someone’s beer that they spilled on you.  “I’d like to go to sleep before sunrise, please.”

“You two could get married.”

Both you and Bucky stared at them like they’d grown two heads.

“I’m sorry…  What the fuck did you just say?” You asked, standing up.

Natasha rushed to continue, still grinning.  “If you two get married, the university will let you live off campus, and FAFSA will let you file as independent!”

“And it’s cheap!  A marriage license only costs like… fifty bucks?  Something like that!” Steve said.

Well…  It wasn’t… a horrible idea, even if you and Bucky might end up killing each other before then.

“I don’t know...,” you said, the whole idea making you nervous.  Marriage?  Come on.

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest defensively.  “I really don’t want to be married to her.  We’d kill each other before we hit our six month anniversary,” he mocked, shooting a glare your way.

“It would only be until you graduate!” Natasha said.  “And then, you two get divorced and it becomes a funny story to tell at parties!”

You shared a look across the room with the brunette.  It would solve your problems…

“Fine.”

Turns out, getting married was a lot easier than you thought it would be.  All four of you went to the courthouse that next Tuesday when all of you had a break in between classes.

You wore a sweatshirt and leggings, your ratty sneakers that were covered in mud along the bottom.  Bucky wore jeans and a university hoodie.

Not exactly usual wedding attire.

Natasha, ever the optimist ever since she met Steve, had shoved a daisy she’d picked in your hair.

And an hour later, you’d walked out as Mrs. Barnes.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you stood up from the couch and walked around the little place you’d called home since you were eighteen.

It had been quiet the first few months.  You signed a lease on an apartment a few blocks from campus and had moved in right at the end of the school year, but he went home with Steve to Brooklyn, New York.

You were alone the entire summer except for the few weekends that Natasha managed to come visit.  The only time you and Bucky spoke was when he texted you to let you know when he was moving in.

And that’s when the fighting had started.

As you stared at a picture of the two of you on the wall, you couldn’t help but laugh.  In the photo, you two were sitting on the couch, holding a cake that Natasha and Steve had gotten you as a joke.  HAPPY 2ND ANNIVERSARY! was written across it in bright blue icing.

It was a far cry from when you two had first moved in.  Everything was an issue.  You didn’t do this, he did that, the both of you wanted to watch different movies and he had brought the television but you’d brought the DVD player.  Everything.  Hell, you’d sleep on the bean bag in Natasha’s dorm some nights because even being in the same apartment as him was too much.

Eventually, there was compromise.  An understanding grew between you and with that, a truce.  You couldn’t keep living like you were.

You were pretty sure the war had finally, silently ended one late night in October.  It was the weekend before Halloween, and you’d had the worst shift of your life.

Your keys clanged as you unlocked the front door, trying to open it as quietly as possible.  Even from where you stood, you could see the clock above the stove that read 1:42 AM.  You were supposed to be off at ten, but that clearly hadn’t happened.  One of the other girls working had gotten sick and you were forced to cover the few hours she was supposed to work alone until close.

And to add onto that, you made less the entire weekend than you had last Friday night.  You’d been hit on, groped, yelled at.  Fuck.  You just wanted to collapse in your bed.

“You’re home late.”

“Fuck!” You jumped in shock, your heart pounding in your chest.  God.  Your anxiety had just spiked and the exhaustion you’d been feeling was replaced with your fight or flight instinct.

Bucky was standing in the hallway entrance, brows furrowed.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to scare you.”  He had on those gray sweats that he looked so good in…

No!  Down girl!  Bad!

It didn’t matter that he was hot.  He was a total dick.

Though, lately he’d be rather kind.  Nice.  There’d been less fights in the past few weeks.

You cleared your throat, looking away from him.  “Yeah, Wanda got sick, so I had to close.”

“There’s dinner in the microwave,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Oh.  Thank you.”

He nodded, before disappearing down the hall.  It surprised you when you heard the bath start, but whatever.  Whether or not he took baths was none of your business.

You were surprised to find a huge bowl of vegetable soup in the microwave.  Huh.  You’d just been talking to Natasha about how much you missed your mom’s homemade version.

Whatever.  It wasn’t like you’d ever be having that again.

You let your head rest on the counter as you waited for the soup to heat up.  Fuck.  Your entire body ached.

“Hey, do you want epsom salt?” Bucky called out from the bathroom.

“Uh, what?” You said as you raised your head.  Even just moving that little made your head pound.

He poked his head out of the doorway, his long hair pulled back in a bun.  “For your bath?  Do you want epsom salt?”

“My bath?  What the hell are you talking about?” You asked as the microwave beeped.

Bucky leaned against the doorframe.  “The bath that I’m currently running you.  Do.  You.  Want.  Epsom.  Salts?”

There was a long pause as the two of you stared at each other.  “Yeah,” you said finally, your voice coming out a lot smaller than you expected.  “That would be nice.”

Once he’d disappeared back into the bathroom, you pulled out your phone and texted Nat.

To: Tasha

Why is Barnes acting weird?

From: Tasha

Which one of you?

Get it?

Cause you’re married?

To: Tasha

Yeah

I got it.

But he’s being fucking weird.

From: Tasha

How so?

To: Tasha

He made me dinner?  At least, he poured vegetable soup from a can into a bowl and left it in the microwave.

Oh

And he’s running me a bath???

V V strange.

If I don’t text you tomorrow

It’s probably because he killed me

From: Tasha

Oh that

To: Tasha

What do you mean

“Oh that”????

NATASHA

ANSWER YOUR PHONE

From: Tasha

Sorry, was talking to Steve

He mentioned you’d been working a lot and how tired you were so I told him he should do something nice.

And I may have told him that you missed your mom’s vegetable soup.

So that probably explains that.

“Hey, it’s ready,” Bucky said as he came into the kitchen.  “I’ve got some towels in the dryer going, so they’ll be all warm when you’re ready to get out.”  He seemed so… laissez-faire about it.  Like you two didn’t fight on a daily basis usually.  He watched as you took a bite of the soup, his blue eyes zeroed in on you.  “Do you like it?” He asked.  “I tried following my ma’s recipe.  Don’t know how well it went.”

You couldn’t help but moan around the spoon as the warm soup went down.  Even reheated, it was amazing.  “This is your mom’s recipe?  It’s amazing.”

His cheeks flushed as he tried to hide a grin.  “Thanks.  I’ve missed her cooking.”

It was silent as you finished up the soup, the only sound being the spoon clanging against the bowl.  It wasn’t until you set your dishes in the sink to wash the next day that he spoke again.

“Oh, I got you this,” he said as he pulled out a box.  “I saw my advisor and he knows that we’re married and he mentioned that we still don’t have rings, so I just went and grabbed a ring from a thrift store.”

It was then that you noticed the simple silver band on his left ring finger, glinting in the low light.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said as you took the box.  But your breath was stolen from your lungs as you opened it, revealing a gorgeous diamond engagement ring with a matching diamond wedding band.  “It’s…  It’s beautiful…  Thank you…”

“You’re welcome,” he said softly, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Uh, you go ahead and get in the bath.  I’ll bring you the towels when they’re done.”

As you sat in the bath, you couldn’t help but stare at the rings that now resided on your left hand.  They glinted in the low light of the candles that had been placed in various places around the bathroom, most likely lit with Bucky’s lighter from the local smoke shop.

They were absolutely stunning.

Maybe… just maybe… this marriage wouldn’t be as bad as you first thought it would be.

You glanced over at the table as your phone buzzed, running to it.  Maybe it’s Bucky…

But your hope was dashed as you realized it was Natasha calling you.

You hadn’t realized you’d been crying until a drop of water fell on the screen.  Wiping your eyes, you brought it up to your ear.  “Hey, Tasha!  What’s up?”  You couldn’t help but wince.  You sounded like a fucking real estate agent.  Perfect and peppy and… not you.

“Hey, I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing,” she whispered, as though she was trying to keep someone else from hearing.  “Bucky got the divorce papers today and I figured that meant you did, too.”

Ah, another thing.  He’d been staying at Steve and Natasha’s place since all of you had graduated, and the time had come for the divorce.  He’d gotten all of his things out within two days, except for the hoodie you were currently cocooned in and your wedding rings.

“I know how much you love this place,” he’d said with a wry smile.  “So you can have it in the divorce settlement.”

It had been a joke.  The divorce settlement.  Like you two had actually been in love and things just hadn’t worked out.

“You aren’t gonna change the Netflix password on me, right?” You asked as you stood in the doorway of Bucky’s room, arms crossed over your chest.  “Because I’m still paying for half of it.”

Buck grinned at you as he taped the last box shut.  “I don’t know…  Might change it up on you.  Have it all to myself.  Then my suggested movies and shows won’t be so fucked up,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, glaring at him.  But there was no heat behind it.  “We have separate profiles on there, you dumbass.  So if Gossip Girl is on your suggested, that’s your fault.”

The laugh that erupted from his mouth made him throw his head back, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Seeing Bucky Barnes laugh was one of the Seven Wonders of the World.  It was better than the Great Pyramids of Giza, the Taj Mahal, and the Great Wall of China all rolled into one.

“We’re still gonna have Thursday night movies, right?” You asked, trying to ignore the way your voice cracked.

In the three years since you’d gotten married, Thursday night had become your sort of fake Date Night.  You two would order takeout and watch movies until the both of you passed out of the couch.  You both changed your availability at your jobs to let them know that you couldn’t work Thursdays.  Not even Natasha and Steve were allowed to intrude.  It was just your special night to hang out.

“I’ll bring the food.  Do you want Thai or Mexican?” He asked, his features a little softer.

“I’ll text you what I want,” you said.  Biting your lip, you toyed with the rings on your left hand.  “I guess I should give you these back, huh?”  You started to slip them off, but he stopped you.

“They’re yours,” he said, his hand closing over yours.  His blue eyes shimmered in the light as you swallowed.  “Keep them… as a reminder of your former husband.”  The corner of his mouth twitched, but you couldn’t tell if he was going to smile or frown.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you said, suddenly surging forward to hug him.  “Even though you’re super annoying.”

Bucky laughed as he wrapped his arms around you just as tight.  “I’m gonna miss you, too.”

“How’s he doing?” You asked as you moved to what had formerly been Bucky’s room.  It was now completely bare, except for a single gum wrapper on the floor.  You sank down against the wall as you stared at it.  Extra wintermint gum.  Because he absolutely hated spearmint.

“About as well as you, I imagine,” she said slowly, choosing her words ever so carefully.  “I don’t know.  He went out for a walk a few minutes ago.  But he locked himself in the guest room for hours after getting the papers.”

You let your head fall back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as you tried to stop another onslaught of tears.  “This is what we wanted,” you said, your voice cracking.

A pause.  You could feel the tension even through the phone, a can of worms Natasha was about to open.  “Is it?  Is this what you wanted?”

“This was always the plan!” You retorted, the tears coming in a wave now.  “We’d stay married until after we graduated and then we’d divorce.  No drama, no court, no lawyers.  Just a means to an end.”

You could hear her whispering to someone that you knew was Steve on the other end for a few seconds, the sound muffled.  She’d probably covered the speaker.  “Do you want me to come over?” She finally asked.

“No,” you said with a sigh, rubbing the hell of your palm against your eyes.  “I just wanna… curl up in bed and watch cheesy movies and never come out.”

You didn’t understand.  Why did this hurt so bad?  He was just a friend.  You two had never even kissed, for crying out loud.  This wasn’t some fanfiction where you two fell into bed one drunken night and then woke up with feelings.  This wasn’t an ‘Oh no, there’s only one bed’ type of deal with 100K+ words on AO3.  You two were just friends.  Really.  There was no happy ending for the two of you waiting.

“Are you still gonna go to the Barnes’s Fourth of July party?” Natasha asked, her voice softer.

You pulled your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on your knee caps.  “There’s no point.  We’re not married anymore.”

“Sweetheart,” she chided.  “You know he’d want you there.  So would his family.  You’re still a Barnes, even if you change your last name back.”

“I don’t know,” you said, chewing on your bottom lip.  “I like the last name Barnes better.  It’s not like I have any connection to my old last name.  Maybe…”  You swallowed.  “Maybe I should keep it.  It costs money to change it back, after all.  It’s on my license now.”

Ah, yes.  Because your license had expired while you were married and you’d had to get a new one.

“You’re a Barnes now and forever, hon,” she teased.  You could hear her smile through the phone.  “And you know Winifred would be pissed as hell if you didn’t go.  You’re her daughter now just as much as Bucky is her son.”

God, the tears came on like a tsunami when you remembered the Barneses.  George, Winifred, Becca, all of them.  Especially Winifred.  Sweet, sweet Winnie that had become your mom in the years since you’d met her.

“Bucky, I don’t know about this,” you said as you walked up the steps to his place.  Or, rather, his parents’ place.  “I should just go home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed as he searched for the right key.  “I’m not letting you drive the way back just to spend Christmas alone.”

Truthfully, it was stupid to even suggest.  Your apartment that you shared with him now was over eight hours away, and it was two days before Christmas Eve.

God, how the hell did you end up here?  You’d been planning on spending it alone, just like you had Thanksgiving.

But when Bucky had come back from the break and realized that you hadn’t gone anywhere, it’d prompted him to ask why, which had then resulted in him insisting on you accompanying him to New York City for Christmas with his family.

“What if they don’t like me?” You asked, barely audible.  In truth, you were terrified.  This was your first holiday season that you were away from your parents.  Thanksgiving had been strange, and you had certain it wasn’t going to get any better up until a few weeks ago.

Bucky stopped suddenly, looking at you with big blue eyes.  “Sweetheart, they’re going to adore you,” he said, more sincere than he’d been since the two of you had gotten married.  “How could they not?”

“You didn’t!”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t like me either.  And then we got to know each other.”

He had a point.

You grumbled, staring down at your boots.  They were still covered in snow.

“And besides, Ma hasn’t shut up about meeting you ever since she found out about you,” he muttered as he finally found the right key.  “Dad said she’s been obsessively cleaning the house since she found out you were coming.”

As soon as the opened the door, you were hit with a wall of sound.  A woman with the same shade of hair as Bucky rushed forward, trapping the six foot man in a hug.  “YOU’RE HOME!”

“Winnie, come on, don’t suffocate the boy.”  A man with Bucky’s eyes appeared, his hands shoved in his pockets.  He was trying to appear nonchalant, but the second he was free of his mother’s grasp, he was dragging him into another hug.  “I’ve missed you, son.”

“And you must be his wife!” Winifred Barnes said, suddenly turning on you.

“Ma, she has a name.”

“I know that!”

“Winnie–”

You were pulled into a hug, and you were suddenly overwhelmed with feelings.  Maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t hugged your own mother in so long, or maybe it was just because Winifred was that lovely of a person.  Either way, you were tearing up as she hugged you tightly.  You gave her your name as she pulled back, looking over your face.

“Oh, you’re even prettier than Jamie said!”

Your cheeks flushed as Bucky grumbled out a quiet “Ma…”

It was then that you were swept into the apartment, finding it bustling with people.  You were then introduced to the rest of his family: his younger sister, Becca, who was going to be a senior in high school and was SO grateful to have a new sister, his aunts, his uncles, his parents.  The entire apartment was bursting with people even days before the actual holiday.

It wasn’t until after dinner (which was absolutely delicious) that you were able to capture a quiet moment in the kitchen, helping Winifred wash dishes.

“Thank you for having me over,” you said, to break the silence.  It wasn’t uncomfortable, surprisingly, you just felt like you needed to vocalize your thanks for what was probably the third time.  “It means a lot.”

“Any friend of Jamie’s is a friend of ours,” she said as she rinsed off a plate.  “And we’re so grateful for what you’re doing.  He mentioned that it helps you, too, but…  Our family can’t afford to pay for his housing.  We can barely make his tuition.”  She looked at you with crystal clear eyes that seemed to bore into your soul.  “We’re so happy to have you.”  She then paused, glancing over at the side of the sink, where you’d set your wedding rings just to make sure they didn’t slip off in the water.  “You know, I was so happy when he asked for my ring.  He’s always dreamed of giving it to a girl.”

“What?” You asked, looking at her in shock.

Winifred paused, her brows furrowed in a way that really reminded you of your husband.  “Did he not tell you?  The engagement ring is mine.  But he saved up over the summer to buy a matching band for it.”

Your heart raced in your chest as you stared at the rings.  Bucky had gotten his ma’s ring for you?  But… why?  You two were barely friends at this point.

“I would’ve been spending Christmas alone if it wasn’t for him inviting me,” you said, breaking her stare to look down at your soapy hands.  “He found out I spent Thanksgiving at home and almost shit a brick.”  You rushed to cover your mouth, to apologize, but she just snorted.

An easy smile tugged at her lips.  “Holidays are a big thing for our family, and I guess we passed that down to Jamie.  Everyone comes to town for about a week and we spend it drinking and shooting the shit, baking.  We can’t afford much, so our gifts are usually just spending time together,” she said.

“It sounds nice,” you whispered as you scrubbed absentmindedly at a pan.  “My family… even when I still talked to them, we were never big on holidays.”  Winifred had gone quiet beside you.  “It was always just us.  We’d eat dinner together and sometimes I’d get a present, but mostly it was just spent like any other day.”

She took a deep breath, setting a plate on the drying rack.  “What… happened?  If you don’t mind me asking?”

“I… confronted my parents about the sexual abuse I went through as a kid,” you said slowly, swallowing around the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat.  “My cousin…  He, uh…  He’s only a year and a half older than me.  From the time I was… four or five, I think, to about twelve, he would… you know.”  The kitchen felt deadly silent, and you were so glad that the rest of the Barnses, including Bucky, were in the living room.  Even though he knew the basics of what had happened, you never told him details.  “And my parents would punish me for it when he got caught.  They blamed me.  They’d ground me or spank me or… whatever.”  You let out a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood.  “They didn’t really take it well.  It doesn’t matter though.  I’m fine.”

You were shocked when you were suddenly pulled into a tight hug.  Winifred’s arms formed a cocoon around you and you could feel her tears on your face.  She was only an inch or two taller than you.  “That was not your fault,” she gasped out, holding you to her.  “That was not your fault.”

Before you realized what was happening, you were clutching onto her as hot tears streamed down your cheeks.

You didn’t know how long she’d held you before she leaned back, wiping away your tears.  Or at least, trying to before they were replaced with more.  “You are not what he did to you, you hear me?” She asked, wiping at her own face.  “You are always welcome here.  We’re your family now.”

“What’s going on here?”

The both of you turned to see Bucky in the doorway, his sea blue eyes wide.  He was holding a few extra plates that had been left behind.

“Nothing,” she said with a watery grin.  “Just… talking.”

“Here,” he said as he walked over and put the dishes inside the sink filled with soapy water.  “I’ll finish up with my wifey here, and you go clean up before dad freaks out because you’re crying.”

She barked out a laugh, nodding.  “Fine.  Fine.  You know how he gets if I’m upset,” she said, kissing your forehead before leaving.

“So… You actually okay?” Bucky asked as he took over rinsing the dishes you washed.

The smile that found its way onto your lips was real, surprisingly, as you said, “Everything’s great, Jamie.”

And even though he let out a groan, he was smiling, too.

It was after that trip that you’d started calling him Jamie.  It just… felt better rolling off your tongue than Bucky ever did.  It was also when holidays in Brooklyn became a permanent thing.  Anytime Bucky went home, so did you.

They were your family.

But now…  Now what?  Did you lose them like you lost your parents?

Granted, losing your parents wasn’t exactly the worst thing.

“Sweetheart?  You there?” Natasha asked, bringing you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you said, shaking your head to clear out the cloudiness of your memories.  “Yeah, I’m–”  You broke off as you heard a knock at the door, a frown tugging at your lips.  “Hold on, Tasha, I’ll call you back…”  You hung onto your phone as you walked to the front door, peeking through the peephole.

Bucky?...  What the fuck was he doing here?

You opened the door wide, shocked to find him crying.  His eyes were puffy and red, his nose running.  “Jamie?  What’s wrong?”  You reached forward to touch his shoulder, shoving your phone in your back pocket.

“Don’t sign those papers.”

“Wait…  What?”  Now you were even more confused.  Your brows furrowed as you pushed his hair back from his face.  God, he needed a haircut.  Maybe you could…  No.  Not the focus right now.

He stepped toward, half inside the apartment that had been his, too, just two weeks before.  His large, calloused hand caressed your face.  “I don’t want to not be your husband,” he said, his voice cracking.

Your heart thundered inside your chest and you were half sure this was some kind of trick of your mind to soothe its aching.  “What do you mean?”

“I want to make this work,” he said as he cupped your face in his hands.  “I… I want to actually have Thursday night Date Nights and take you out and when we go home for the holidays, I want to kiss you under the mistletoe my ma always hangs up, and I want you to wear my ma’s ring.  I want to be your husband.  Please.”

You didn’t realize you were crying–yet again, fucking damn it–until he wiped them away.  “I don’t want to not be your wife, either,” you said, your voice shaking.  “I love you, I love you so much.”

His lips met yours in a blazing kiss, holding you closer than you thought possible.  “I love you more,” he whispered against your lips.  “I’m never letting you go.”

You dragged him inside, shutting the door before kissing him again.  “You’re staying here.  None of this bullshit of you staying with Tasha and Steve.”

“Gladly,” he chuckled, holding onto your waist.  “But only if I get to sleep in your bed.”

“Only if we can shred those divorce papers.”

The moment was interrupted by his phone ringing, and you couldn’t help but giggle when you saw it was Winifred.  He shot you an apologetic look as he answered it.  “Hey, ma.”

She was speaking so loudly you could hear her clearly.  “Well?!  How did it go?!  Did you ask her?!”

“Yes, I asked her,” he said slowly, squeezing your side.  “She said yes.  I’m with her now.”

Both of you flinched away as she screamed in excitement.  “GIVE HER THE PHONE!  GIVE HER THE PHONE!”

You smiled as you pressed it to your ear.  “Hi, mom.”

“BABY!  I’M SO HAPPY!  NOW WE CAN HAVE A REAL WEDDING!”  She was speaking at a hundred miles an hour.  “Do you want a summer or fall wedding?  I think it might be too late to do summer, but I’m sure we could scrounge something together!”

You giggled as Bucky stole kisses from you while she was speaking, distracting you.

“Sweetheart?  You there?”

“A late summer wedding sounds perfect,” you said, unable to wipe the grin from your face.  “Absolutely perfect.”

[binniedeactivated]

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧. || 🌪💦 (1.2)

[ m.list ]

➦ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐏𝐎𝐂 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

➦ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐮

➦ 𝐖/𝐂 | 3.6k

➦ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 | 𝐈𝐧 ��𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

➦ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

POC = person of color

“I think we should give the bridge to heesung”. soobin suggests at the soundboard with headphones on, listening to the recorded single over and over again.  yeonjun ignores soobin’s overly loud tone and pushes his headphones off his ears. “what makes you say that?”.

“I think he can hit those notes at a better range”.

“let us hear it”. beomgyu requests, with taehyun and kai backing him in agreement. soobin unplugs the headphones and drags the slider to the bridge duration, allowing the song to blare through the speaker. the four of the boys nod, seeing where he was coming from. all with the exception of yeonjun whose phone consistently buzzed in his pocket. he fishes it out and reads daniel’s caller ID before putting a finger up.

“hold on guys I have to take this”.

he steps out of the studio and into the much quieter hallway to answer. it was rare that daniel ever called him so he knew it had to be something serious.

“hello? what’s up daniel?”.

“dad? are you coming?”.

yeonjun checks his watch, seeing that it was past 6pm. daniel should’ve been home from basketball practice by now.

“what do you mean am I coming? your mom didn’t come pick you up?”.

daniel sighs into the phone looking around the empty gym. it was just him and his coach left to leave.

“no I think she forgot again. and she’s not answering her phone”.

as much as yeonjun wanted to curse into the phone about leah he kept himself in control. he never wanted his kids to hear him talking about their mother that way. but sometimes she really pissed yeonjun off with her carelessness and there was no other way to express it in her absence.

“don’t worry danny I’m on my way alright? call your sister and tell her I’m coming to get her from ballet too”.

after hanging up the call yeonjun rushes back in the studio and shoves his coat on while frantically grabbing his car keys. “everything alright hyung?”. kai asked, immediately reading yeonjun’s frustrated facial expressions.

“yeah it’s alright I just have to go pick the kids up. leah forgot. text me about any changes made to the song”.

he made his drive on the freeway quicker than the speed limit but that‘s just how yeonjun was. he hated when his children were the last to leave anything, especially when it was due to leah’s forgetfulness. in the car he even tried to dial her number a few times only for it to go straight to voicemail. he wondered what the hell she could be so busy with that could make her forget her children. even if yeonjun had the most hectic day at work, they’re the number one thing he’d never forget.

once he was in front of the school he shuts the driver door and jogs into the gymnasium, shaking the coach’s hand with an apology.

“I’m so sorry about this coach. there was a little miscommunication between me and my wife today”.

“it’s no problem yeonjun I completely understand”. he chuckles finely. but yeonjun did feel bad. he didn’t know what the coach had planned for the evening. suppose him waiting with daniel ruined them? he was truly sorry and embarrassed.

he coupled daniel’s hand in his, “thank you for waiting with him. I’ll make sure this never happens again”.

“it’s really fine yeonjun, you two drive safe!”.

yeonjun bids him a good “you too!”. in exchange before walking daniel to the car. they weren’t even in the car for five seconds before daniel already started his shenanigans. he threw his backpack in the passenger seat and climbs in, strapping his seatbelt across his chest and placing his feet on the dashboard.

“daniel? what did I tell you about that? get your feet off the dashboard”.

he slides them off and huffs his breath. “the front seat is better when you sit that way”.

“oh yeah? what happens if you get into a car accident like that?”.

daniel huffs his breath again and this time adds an eye roll. a message pinged at his phone, and if yeonjun was side eying him correctly he could’ve swore he saw a smirk spread across his son’s face.

“what are you smirking for? who is that?”. yeonjun questions, speeding on the freeway again.

“my girlfriend”.

yeonjun looks at him oddly. “girlfriend? when did you get a girlfriend? you’re only nine years old”.

“yesterday”.

“and you two exchanged numbers that fast? what does her parents think?”.

“dad why are you being so weird? we’re just texting”.

“you’re too young for a girlfriend. and you guys better not be talking about sex”.

daniel fake gags at his father’s words.

“do you even know what sex is?”. yeonjun adds.

“yes dad I know”.

“and that you shouldn’t---”.

“I shouldn’t be having it until I’m 18. I know”. 

being that they were born in the times of advanced technology yeonjun knew he couldn’t quite control his children’s media consumption. he knew they had to know about some things, sooner or later. no matter how much they knew though yeonjun always kept a strict hand. he wasn’t going to just let them go be wild just because they were knowledgeable.

“good, wait here while I go get your sister”. yeonjun parks perfectly in front of the ballet studio and gets out of his car to go fetch her. once he was out of sight daniel immediately unlocks his phone and deletes the text messages he knew his father would flip out about if he saw.

yeonjun sincerely apologizes to the ballet instructor just as he did the coach, promising that this mishap wouldn’t happen again. the more he apologized the angrier he became at Leah, the one who was truly at fault here. nevertheless he grabs myla’s hand, complimenting her about how cute she looked in her purple tutu. she soon climbs in the backseat, scrunching her face up at her older brother.

“daddy how come daniel always get to sit in the front seat?”. she whines.

“because he’s the oldest myla. plus you’re too small for the front seat. we’ve talked about this”.

she crosses her arms and mumbles, “that isn’t fair”.

“life isn’t fair”. daniel rebuttals.

“shut up daniel”.

“you shut up ugly”.

“guys. if I hear another argument on our way home I’m going to make you two hold hands for the rest of the night”.

“ew!”. myla blurted.

“I’d die if I touch her”.

“then stop arguing then. I only want to hear compliments”.

myla fiddles with the ruffles on her tutu for a short moment. “you know what? I love you daniel”.

the oldest boy slowly looks back at her, wondering what in the hell she could possibly be talking about. yeonjun smiled a little obviously pleased that she was being obedient.

“every time I talk to you, you make me feel smarter“. she continues.

“dad! do you hear your daughter? this is why I’m the good child”.

yeonjun knits his eyebrows, “okay number one daniel, you’re not the good child. number two myla what did I just say?”.

the girl pouts her lips a little in response. “daddy I’m hungry”. she whines shifting the subject. that reminded yeonjun, this was around the time leah was supposed to have the kids home already and cooking them dinner. he had the urge to curse again but withheld them for the sake of his children’s ears.

“after we pick up your brother we’re going to go home and eat okay? I’m kind of hungry too”.

on days where the kids had to stay out for extra activities, yeonjun’s mother did the honor of caring for logan until either one of his parent’s picked him up. yeonjun couldn’t be anymore grateful to have his parents involved in his children’s life. all three of them loved their nana and papa dearly, and this showed the most as soon as she swung open the door, both daniel and myla running to hug her and then going straight for their papa.

“oh! look at my babies!! me and your papa was just talking about you both!”. she jeers, and yeonjun smiles before hugging her. “hey eomma”.

“hey junnie, I wasn’t expecting to see you today”. she comments after kissing him on his cheek. yeonjun sighs, already knowing who she was referring to.

“come on, me and your nana bought you both some snacks”. yeonjun’s dad waved off to both daniel and myla, sensing that his wife had something to talk to yeonjun about. once the kids were out of sight the two of them continued their conversation. she safely straps a sleeping logan in his car seat.

“come on eomma”. yeonjun semi-whined, not wanting to talk about it at all. she purses her lips anyways.

“you already know what I’m going to say junnie. you need to divorce her. she’s only good for giving you babies”.

“she’s the mother of my children I can’t just divorce her”.

“yes you can. why are you taking so long to do it? wasn’t she the one that was supposed to pick the kids up today?”.

“yeah....she was”.

she throws her hand on her hip. “and then? did she forget? again?”.

“eomma I really don’t want to talk ab--”.

“what kind of mother forgets her kids junnie? tell me. did i ever forget you when you were little? like ever?”.

“no, you didn’t eomma”.

“so? don’t you see what’s wrong?”.

yeonjun clutches the handle bar of the car seat. he could hear the kids making their way into the living room again so he decided to quickly wrap up the conversation.

“i can’t be alone in this eomma. I really can’t”.

“look daddy! nana and papa bought us sweet rice cakes!”. myla proclaims while twirling the packet in her hand.

“oh god, that’s way too much sugar”.

“don’t be like that junnie. they can eat as much sugar as they want”. his father defended, rubbing the top of daniel’s head while daniel was sticking his tongue out at yeonjun.

yeonjun shakes his head and laughs. he carries the car seat while giving both of his parents a hug, thanking them and telling them how much he loved them before he drove home with his children, overthinking what his mother said.

“okay guys it’s been a long day, make sure you take your showers. Daniel you go first”.

the oldest scoffs, “what?! why me?”.

“because you don’t like to take them. make sure you actually get in the shower this time. don’t just stand outside and leave the water running”.

he huffed his breath for at least the twentieth time today, marching his way to his room. “fine!”.

“and use soap!”. yeonjun shouts directly after him, sitting the car seat on the kitchen table. to his surprise Logan was already woken up by the sound of his voice, fluttering his eyes and curly eyelashes up at his father upon contact.

“hey lolo!”. yeonjun coos, “did you miss me?”.

the baby’s cheeks mold into a small grin, especially since he was finally out of the car seat and instead in his father’s arms. his father’s arms were his favorite place to be.

“daddy can we have rice and chicken for dinner?”.

yeonjun pulls open the fridge gazing at the array of food choices. “yeah what kind of chicken though?”.

“ou! can we have barbecue?”. Myla adds, pulling herself atop of the stool at the kitchen island. yeonjun scrunches his nose, “barbecue chicken with rice? What about baked? With some garlic maybe?”.

“oh what about cheese too?”.

yeonjun snaps his finger with an idea. “what about baked garlic Parmesan chicken?”.

“omg! Daddy can I help you make it? Please please please?”.

“yeah just make sure you wash your hands and stuff okay?”.

this was especially one of the times where yeonjun wished he had home help. sitting Logan down in his high chair was never an easy task to do because logan was quite attached to yeonjun, and he didn’t like sitting down all the time. It took ritz crackers and a handful of yogurt melts to finally get him in his high chair for yeonjun to be able to cook and feed the rest of his children.

this atttachment even went as far as bath time rituals, which yeonjun did with the baby everyday. logan had a baby bathtub for himself but he never liked it. sitting down, looking at his father instead of touching him was enough to drive him insane so he always cried. instead, he liked taking showers with his father. where yeonjun could hold him tightly to his chest while the warm water soothed his backside. he loved the way yeonjun sang to him in there, rubbing his hands through small black strands of hair.

okay, maybe logan is a little spoiled too, but so what.

“dad? do you think I can use some of your body spray tomorrow? I want to smell good”. Daniel asks while forking a piece of chicken into his mouth.

“For what?”.

“For his stinky girlfriend”. myla intercedes.

“you shut up. how do you even know about her?”.

“I know everything”.

“you guys sound like you want to hold hands?”. yeonjun threatens.

“no she started it. but dad can I use some? please?”.

“yeah you can. but why don’t you just ask me if I can buy you some of your own?”.

“because you’re going to say no”.

“when have I ever said no?”.

“when I asked you to buy me a gun like the one on grand theft auto”.

“Daniel that’s a real weapon. A powerful one at that. you can kill people I’d never buy you that”.

“well, anyway, I need to smell nice. I want to show her that she’s with a real man”.

both Myla and yeonjun laughed at the end of his sentence. sometimes Daniel was too delusional for his own good.

“you guys are laughing right now, just wait and see”.

“don’t worry Daniel we will”. Yeonjun playfully promised, knowing Daniel was going to spray himself into a stinking nightmare.

now daniel’s shenenigans were the funny parts at night in the Choi residence. But for yeonjun the most soothing part was when they were all sleeping soundly in their rooms, where he could gain a clear enough head to properly think about what he was going to next in circumstance.

maybe Leah had a knack for clockwork, but she always came into the house when Logan finally fell asleep. And she’d always come into their shared bedroom and get ready for bed as if nothing happened. This is what ticked off yeonjun the most.

he watched her take off all her jewelery and place it in her jewelry box, saying not a word to yeonjun even when she walked in the room.

“so? what happened today?”. he begins, refusing to let her go to bed without having this conversation.

she rolled her eyes. “what are you talking about yeonjun?”.

“you were supposed to pick up the kids today. And even when I called you and even when Daniel called you , you weren’t answering your phone”.

“I had meetings back to back today. I can’t respond to every call that comes to my phone”.

“regardless of your meetings you should pick up your kids. those are your kids Leah. do you know that? Why are you putting work over them?”.

she nonchalantly undresses, changing into her pajamas. as she did so yeonjun couldn’t remember the last time he even touched her body. not that he wanted to anyway.

“Don’t start this yeonjun. I had a long day”.

“So did I”.

“so? What do you want me to say? I’m sorry I forgot yeonjun. I get busy”.

yeonjun stared at her in utter disgust. “What is wrong with you? Be honest do you even want this marriage anymore?”.

of course she wanted this marriage, it provided her with the financial stability she needed.

“Of course I do. But not if you’re going to keep nagging me about the same old stuff”.

“It’s not nagging. why should I have to remind you to do this stuff? you’re a mother before you’re anything else”.

she turns over, throwing the blankets over her shoulder. “I don’t need a speech. I said I was sorry alright?”.

“I’m so sick of you saying sorry. I’m so sick of it”.

“you know what?! how about I just fucking leave you yeonjun? How about that?”.

having awoken from her nightmare Myla crawls to her parent’s closed door. she was hoping to snuggle with her dad but she was a little startled by the yelling. she was hesitant to do anything so she only stayed quiet hoping they’d be finished soon.

“don’t do that. I shouldn’t have to take care of the kids by myself when I have a wife. I want you here. That’s why I’m being like this”.

“I heard you the first time! I said sorry! What else do you want from me? I’m trying my best!”.

“No you aren’t and that’s the problem”.

her silence made yeonjun get out the bed, needing a break before he said something he didn’t mean. he was already pissed that she was repeating the same pattern, but even more pissed that she didn’t seem to care.

“you’re so fucking ridiculous”. he spat just before grasping the door handle and closing the door behind him. he wasn’t expecting to see Myla just a few inches away from the door though, staring up at him innocently. she swallows. she never heard yeonjun that angry before and it kind of scared her.

“daddy? are you okay?”.

“what are you doing up Myla?”.

“I had a bad dream and I was wondering if I can cuddle with you maybe? but you look upset”.

he crouches down to her level pulling her in for a hug.

“I’m not upset baby. Of course you can cuddle with me”.

“daddy? do you and mommy hate each other?”.

“no. I don’t want you to think that okay? we were just talking don’t worry. do you want to go downstairs and eat a rice cake with me?”.

“yes please”.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

JL Fic Recs: Angst With Happy Ending Pt. 3

Hey all!!

OKAY, so... I somehow LOST the original ask that this list was supposed to attach to, so I’m going to just offer it as a standalone list, because I need it posted for another ask I have, LOL.

So, for whoever asked about 2 months ago for Angst with a Happy Ending, this one is for you, LOL. I’m sorry, I have no idea why your post disappeared from my drafts. Enjoy, all, a rare List Without an Ask :). ENJOY!! And as usual, add your faves! <3

ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING Pt 3

See also:

Angst With a Happy Ending

Angst With a Happy Ending Pt. 2

Angsty Fluff

A Room of One's Own by whitchry9 (K+, 2,174 w., 5 Ch. || S2 Timeline, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Coma, John Whump, Worried Sherlock, POV John, Angst, Friendship/Bromance, Hospital) – When a severe head injury lands John in a coma, somehow he ends up in Sherlock's mind palace. It's actually pretty nice there, and John is entertaining the notion of staying there, rather than returning to his broken body. But Sherlock isn't taking it as well, and John can feel him breaking around him.

To the Nines by suitesamba (M, 2,724 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism, Pining, Angst, John Whump, Time Travel, Fortunes, Time Jumps) – John skips forward in time, and Sherlock reads the signs that point to nine. John knows he’ll eventually be with Sherlock, but the waiting is nearly impossible, and his body is a lot more than transport. A foray into magical realism where all the canon events occur, and a hell of a lot more.

Reversed by whitchry9 (K+, 3,072 w., 6 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Medical Anomolies, John Gets Shot) – The man pointed his gun at John's chest, right at his heart, and shot.' Wherein John is shot, and Sherlock is the one panicking.

Bridges by sussexbound (M, 6,602 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TLD / S4 Fix It, Love Confessions, Mending Relationships, Moving Back In, Pining Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Past Abuse, Shaving) – The silence between them is deafening, interrupted only by the hum of the traffic outside, and the soft click-clunk of the plastic cups Rosie is playing with on the floor beside them. It is the first time they have been alone together, since Sherlock’s birthday. It’s only been two days, but it feels huge, important, like there is a precarious bridge stretched out before them both that they need to at least attempt to traverse.

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalized Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by "accident", it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

The Hand You're Dealt by Lady Sam Mallory (T, 12,092 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Light Violence, BAMF John, Doctor John, Injury, Friendship) – Sherlock, John and several others are trapped in a building when an explosion disrupts the crime scene they are working.

Kintsugi by distantstarlight (E, 14,772 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Regret / Remorse, Loneliness, Separation, Drug Use, Healing, Protective John, Sad Sherlock, Dev. Rel., Complicated Relationships, Love, Angst With Happy Ending, Sherlock is Called Freak, John’s Penance, Voyeurism, Doctor/Caretaker John, Guilty John, Detox, Fingering, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Slight Non-Con Turns Enthusiastic Consent, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes becomes estranged from the man he had once considered his best friend after John lets him down horribly in public. It seems that the world's only consulting detective will be on his own once again...or will he?

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names, Panic Attack) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Wonderful, Etcetera. by VictoryCandescence (T, 16,955 w., 3 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Alternate Timelines, Brotherhood, Homophobia, Suicidal Ideations, Mentions of Drug Use, Friendship, Different TRF, Sherlock’s Past, Victor Trevor is Past Boyfriend, Depression, Hallucination?, Love Confessions, Christmas, First Kiss) – Sherlock thinks everyone would be better off if he had never existed, including and especially himself. When he finds himself in a world in which his wish has been granted, he begins to think perhaps even he could be wrong – but it takes an unlikely chaperone to make him not only observe, but understand.

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Silhouettes by allonsys_girl (E, 28,585 w., 7 Ch. || Canon Compliant, POV John, Heavy Drinking, Sad/Depressed John, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunion, Foot Jobs, Blow Jobs, Infidelity, Cheating, Drug Use/Abuse, Anal, Switchlock, Rimming, Parentlock) – Sherlock and John find comfort in each other's arms, but as ever with these two, it's not your typical relationship. It's fluffy at the beginning, gets deeply angsty in the middle, gets porny at the end.

A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

The Winter Garden by Callie4180 (T, 31,213 w., 13 Ch. || Post-S4, Retirement, Christmas, Slow Burn, Grown-Up Rosie, Parenthood, Rosie’s Cat, Angst with Happy Ending, Holidays, Beekeeping, Magical Realism, Sherlock POV, Sherlock’s Violin, Future Fic, Sussex, Honey, Magical Healing Honey, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Scar, First Kiss, Touching) – As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing.Almost...magical.

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Inscrutable to the Last by DiscordantWords (M, 48,842 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Alternate S3, John’s Blog/S3 is a Story By John, Divorce, Marital Difficulties, John is a Mess, Emotional Reunion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Grief / Mourning, Pining John, First Kiss, Adorably Clueless Sherlock, Nostalgia, Love Confessions, Eventual Happy Ending) – He wasn't Sherlock, he couldn't work miracles. All he'd ever been able to do was write about them.

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love,  Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU ||  Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) –  A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Sussex, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Background Case Fic) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

[contentconsumer]

hi! I hope you’re day is well, I was wondering if I could have a stranger things season 4 ship?

Physical : 5’6 and curveyish I guess. Dark blonde hair but when it’s in the sun it’s kinda golden. Green eyes and I’m a bit of a tomboy. I typically wear converse high tops, jeans or black leggings, and some sort of band t-shirt. I also wear lots of jewelry. But there’s also a hippie side of me as well.

Personality: I react more on feelings (most of the time). I cry when I get compliments, I cry easily. I like to be alone but I don’t want to be lonely. I get called weird a lot, mainly by my sister or people I barely talk to. Constantly making THATS what she said jokes. I’ve been going through depression for a few years now, along with anxiety. So I’m not a huge fan of parties or putting myself out there. My enneagram top three numbers are: two (considerate helper), four (intense creative), and nine (adaptive peacemaker). Also want to include my zodiac sign: Sagittarius with a Pisces moon and Leo ascending.

Hobbies : I’m constantly listening to music. Some of the bands I like are Greta Van Fleet, Nirvana, Mazzy Star, Led Zeppelin, Weezer, Lana del Rey, Coldplay, Radiohead, Bob Seger, The Zombies, Del Water Gap, David Grey, The Velvet Underground, Sleeping at Last, Fleetwood Mac, Hole, and Aerosmith. I love horror movies, my favorite would have to be Halloween. My favorite movie in general is Dazed and Confused. I love being creative. I actually want to start playing electric guitar so if my uncles guitar goes missing, just say you don’t know what happened. I love camping and lakes. I’ve collected rocks since I was literally 2, so everytime we go camping, I’m always looking at the ground. I also love the rain! But I hate really cold weather.

Family life : I love my family, but I can get in my head a lot which can cause me to be distant and far away. My parents got divorced when I was young and I used to be really close to my sister but people drift apart I guess. I also don’t have a good relationship with my father. We don’t even talk.

Be happy starshine 😂

i ship you with eddie munson! a man that can teach you electric guitar and shares a love for music and slight distaste for parties. i think you two could binge horror movies all night instead of going to the party everyone at school was talking about, he's also very understanding of your depression and anxiety suffering with similar feelings himself. also i can defo picture you two going camping around hawkins finding secret spots that only you two know about, causing the rest of the gang to become worried at were you two had wandered off to this time haha. i think your relationship with eddie would probs be friends to lovers as i think he worries you're too good for him or he's underserving of you but you end up making the first move.

thanks for requesting ! i hope you enjoyed <3