#a whole separate meltdown to answer an ask

[distinctlywhumpthing]

It's Never Too Late for Christmas

Alright, look. This might be the fluffiest thing I have ever written. It's barely 1000 words so don't anyone come for me saying I've gone soft. Probably takes place a few weeks after First Night Home. Due credit to @deluxewhump's Wishbone for getting me thinking of the smell of Home. Wow, see what I did there: Full circle.

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“Merry Christmas!” Leo says, immediately wanting to dial it back. He holds out the repurposed brown grocery bag between them. 

Aiden looks down, one arm crossing over his torso. “But...mmm’it’s not…” 

Definitely too much enthusiasm. 

Leo lowers the bag. “Right, yeah. I just thought—well, we only missed it by a few weeks…you know back when we met. I mean… It seemed like…” 

Why had this seemed like a good idea again? 

“It’s nothing big,” he tries but Aiden won’t look at him. Like Aiden’s the one who misstepped instead of vice versa. The kid grips his own arm like it’s a lifeline, fingertips digging into his flesh. Never mind that he’s wearing just a t-shirt in late February. Even with the heat a few degrees warmer than he used to keep it, Leo has to bite his tongue to not ask if he wants a sweatshirt. He tries to limit his questions to the ten thousand a day he can’t avoid. 

“I didn’t even wrap it really,” Leo rushes to say. “It’s never too late for Christmas. ‘Honour it in your heart and try to keep it all the year’, you know��” God, stop talking. “‘Live in the Past, the Present, and the Future’—”

Well, at least he got the kid’s attention. Albeit paired with a confused and I’m-embarrassed-for-you grimace. 

“Please, just take it. Put me out of my misery.” 

Aiden takes a half step back but he does. 

Because Leo told him to. Fuck, this was a terrible idea.  

He holds the bag from the bottom with both hands, as gingerly as if something might be alive in there. His eyes flash up to Leo’s before he reaches inside. He opens his mouth once, twice, like he’s trying to say something, but doesn’t. Instead, he looks to Leo for permission again. 

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead,” he says absently, still stuck on what Aiden stopped himself from saying. 

The way the kid reaches into the bag with all the gusto of sticking his hand into a live fire hollows Leo’s chest. Once his fingers meet fabric instead of whatever horrors he’s expecting, Aiden pulls the bundle out with a little more conviction. 

Leo relieves him of the bag, fingers unconsciously creasing it back up along all the seams, as he watches Aiden unfold the jacket. For the past few weeks, he’s lent Aiden his Carhartt and carried rather than worn an embarrassingly retro ski parka. 

“I—” He looks at Leo, something between disbelief and awe in his face. 

“Try it on—I mean, you can try it on if you want to,” he revises. 

He threads a skinny arm through the first sleeve. 

Leo reaches around to hold the jacket so he can reach the other. “It’s the same size as mine…so you can wear more layers while it’s cold.” 

Aiden fingers the ends of the sleeves. “Thank…you...” 

“The color suits you,” Leo blurts, caught off guard by the shy smile Aiden’s trying to hide while inspecting the coat. A total one-eighty he hopes isn’t just Aiden placating him. 

–––

“Aiden? Are you ready?” Leo calls up the stairs as he heads to the door to get his shoes on. “We need to leave in two minutes if we’re going to—” 

He’s already there. 

Standing by the door with the Converse pulled on, the laces tucked inside, and wearing Leo’s jacket. He bites his lips together as he pulls the zipper up, slow enough for Leo to stop him. When he reaches the top without interruption, he lets his gaze slide over to the new navy jacket, still hanging from its hook, and back to Leo. 

He lets out the laugh he’s been holding in and pulls on the coat. “I knew there was a reason I got this in my size.” 

“Color…mmm’s-s-suits…you,” Aiden says, tucking his chin into the soft collar of the old brown jacket, hiding what Leo is sure is a grin. 

Leo scoops him into a hug. “You’ve been plotting this from the beginning, haven’t you?” He swings them side to side a little, the gentlest roughhousing. Aiden shakes his head against Leo’s chest, he’s laughing now but trying to hide it. “This is absolutely not going to work when I buy you workboots. We are not the same size.” 

Aiden’s reply is muffled so Leo pulls back just far enough for him to lift his head. “Layers,” he repeats, barely able to get it out before he’s shaking with laughter again, pressing his face into Leo’s shoulder.  

“You’re incorrigible.” Before he can overthink it, he presses a chaste kiss to the crown of his head. He smells like home. His home. H— 

Leo backpedals against the possessiveness before he even completes the thought. 

But the part of him that spent countless nights wondering if he’d wake up to an empty house finds it profoundly comforting. The evidence that on the basest, organic level Aiden belongs to this home. Has been engrained in its rhythms and smells. The fabric softener from the sheets he tangles up every night, the lavender shower gel he picked out himself, toothpaste from brushing his teeth after the breakfast they cooked together. 

And not least of all, Leo himself. Wrapped up in his arms and wearing his old jacket. 

Home. 

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[multyfandoms-imagines]

You know what? I wanted to combine them. The anons who asked these can just send me an ask if they want me to answer them separately

Spoiler waning for Lobotomy Corporation

Meltdown!Chesed and Reader angst+fluff

•with his stability taking a hit, seeing the employees collapse like drops of rain on the window, Chesed could not handle the pressure anymore.

•too many have died. Too much blood on his hands. Too much suffering is going on...

•and yet, despite the twisted form he takes, Chesed still remembered one employee. One who caught his eye (no pun intended)

•he tried, really, not to let one more join the many corpses in the rain. His ability seemingly turning off or switching the boosted damage type to keep the single employee unharmed.

•he could hear them talking. Speaking something... Words of comfort, perhaps? Although Chesed's troubled mind is not yet settled down to comprehend such noise...

•he just... knows that this employee talks to him... somehow... not showing any anger...

•eventually, the manager and facility as a whole are able to overcome the ordeal. And their words manage to reach his ears.

•Chesed, of course, is worried, troubled that they may never want to speak to him at all...

•and yet the employee, (Y/N), instead helps to fix his mechanical body. Making sure that Chesed wont break...

•to say the least, Chesed is touched, baffled even. But also remembers how, even in his own unstable state, he also tried what he could to keep you safe. Safe from... harm, from himself, essentially...

•he would be forever grateful that you stuck by his side through thick and thin

•and in turn, Chesed tries to be there for you as much

[cloudcryptid]

HI HELLOso this is a very out of the blue question but if u feel ok sharing how did u go about making ur whf ocs into their own original universe?? a close pal of mine and i have been into whf for years and we still love it but want to separate the ocs we made for it into our own universe w some of the same general themes, so i guess what im asking is, do u have any advice from ur own experience of doing that? u dont have to answer this if u dont want to btw no pressure :3

so i've been thinking on how to answer this one, since i struggle to put concepts into understandable words and honestly i would consider asking @theshiaxartist about it as well as he's the one i did this with, he's usually better at explaining things in my opinion, plus multiple perspectives always helps :>

but also i didn't really?

so me n shiax looked at our ocs and the relations we'd built between them and decided we didn't want to change that, so we just kinda, transplanted it over

are we using whf itself? no, but we are using a lot of the concepts that play major parts in it: -completely isolated island -major mood changing and manipulating drugs -it was supposed to be a better place and ended in dystopia and destruction -etc etc

we took this concept and moved it over to a technically premade world (in actuality it was just bits n pieces of worlds that we'd both made but no longer has use for and so just slapped them all together, we're still constantly adding and developing to it, friend's connected universes are real)

i suppose why it seems like they're no longer fan ocs now is that we're not currently in that portion of the timeline, we've moved on

for us, the events of the isle (our stand in for whf) happened, it is a very important part of the oc's backstory and character development, without it they'd be completely different people but canonly, where we are in the timeline of things is roughly 2-5 years after they escaped and the isle essentially had a nuclear meltdown

we made them our own sorta, think kinda like how aus take the base content and shift it slightly to the left (yes they can shift further out but for the sake of things here, just a little for now)

its a simple and easy option and i think people are a little afraid of ideas being too similar but being heavily inspired is better than being stuck

worlds are large and ocs are fictional have fun

i suppose for tips tho:

-figure out what really makes the ocs, well them, what major events and relations are required for them to stay as they are, keep those or find something similar enough to get the right outcome

-building a whole new world for them can be fun, but it can also get you stuck up in minute details or floundering to have everything explained, it's ok for characters to exist in a void until you can fill it with something (you should also ask shiax about this, his world building is always really fun and he's great for like, looking at how things actually work together, ie. if there's 2 moons, how does that impact things)

-frankly, don't be scared to just rehaul as well, some ideas simply won't work in certain contexts and you'll have to figure something else out

-you are free to play around, nothing is set in stone, make as many different possible worlds and lands and settings until you find the one that sticks people get stuck on making it right the first time and this applies to oc creation too

i know this doesn't really like, set you in a definite direction, but creation is fickle and whimsical like that

[acertainmoshke]

Now that I have a LITTLE more time, care to tell me a little about "Fae and Brownie Draft 4 (JMR edit)" from the WIP Files game? <3

It's been a while so here a link to your post LINK

Oh, thanks! It has been a while and this is my most recent ask/mention but it's the easiest to answer right now (I will get to reblogging/doing all those heads up 7 up games I promise).

So, Fae and Brownie is actually done. It needs a better title but it is all written and I used my tax refund to have it professionally edited (JMR are the initials of the lady I hired). I actually originally planned to make it a series like Ivy and Bean, so every subsequent book would be "Fae and Brownie do X," but now I think it will be a standalone. Unlike basically everything else I write, it is not SFF but a realistic middle grade kids' book.

To go into a little more detail than I did in my intro post, Fae is 10 years old and autistic and ataxic (a physical balance/coordination disability that I have a variation of) and the ONLY kid at school to be nice to her is the new kid, Brownie (who may or may not have ADHD, you decide). Then Fae promptly gets in trouble for a semi-violent meltdown when she's pushed too far and is suspended for a week. She has one fabulous day free of school, and then her parents drop it on her that the aunt she hasn't seen in years is getting divorced and moving in with them. Aunt Lillian doesn't get along with her sibling-in-law, Fae's parent she calls Kiki, for political reasons Fae doesn't really understand.

To put off the inevitable struggle with change, Fae is allowed to go to a sleepover at Brownie's house the first night Aunt Lillian shows up, which leads to a week of adventure, friendship, accommodations, and realizing that even adults might need to learn some things.

This is one of my favorite excerpts:

Now Ms. Luna is on the floor in front of me, bent down like adults do to when they talk to little kids. Not 10-year-old kids, except they still do it to me. Mama says that if I stand up tall and smile and talk to people using the big words I do at home, they won’t think I’m like a little kid. I think she doesn’t understand school.

“Fae, we’re going to work on spelling worksheets. Can you come back to your desk, please?”

Ms. Luna doesn’t look angry. She doesn’t look sad. She doesn’t look anything. But I’m still scared to say no, because that can get me in trouble sometimes.

“Fae, come on. I know you like spelling, and I need you to participate, ok?”

I wonder if teachers ever get annoyed when they’re stuck with the really weird kids.

She won’t go away until I use words, so I say, slowly and carefully, “I want to stay here.”

“I know, but you’ve been here for over fifteen minutes and you can’t miss a whole lesson or you won’t know the words for Friday’s quiz.”

I’m tired. It’s been a long day. I peek over her shoulder and all the other kids are looking at me. Their eyes feel like lasers. I want to go home. And suddenly I’m angry, because it’s not fair. It’s not fair that I’m supposed to do as well as everyone else even though the world hurts me and not them. It’s not fair that people still talk to me like I’m in kindergarten. And it’s not fair that they always look at me like I’m a puzzle or a slug and not a person.

I hate being angry. My anger is red and liquid and fills me up until it overflows. I scream without meaning to. I want to scream “I hate you,” but the words are stuck in my throat, and that makes me even more angry. I know better than to throw things, but all I want is to do what I’m not supposed to. I want Ms. Luna to hurt like I do.

I was going to make a separate post for this later this week, but since this gives me the perfect chance to do it: I am looking for beta readers. It needs new title suggestions and some feedback on plot and flow, but shouldn't have any glaring holes or grammar issues. I'd be happy to do a beta swap if someone prefers. My only requests are that you have some interest in reading children's literature and see this as a disability empowerment story and not one about her learning to "be good" (a disclaimer I always include now after a really weird comment I got the first time I tried to move towards publishing this story).

[songmingisthighs]

Hooked

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

ch. xxxv - NYOOOOOOM

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??? × reader, ateez × reader

A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?

Wooyoung and Yeosang were rushing you into the frat as quick as they could. Wooyoung carrying your bag and Yeosang practically hauling you away.

When you entered the frat, you could see that every single one of them is sitting around the living area. Some were seated on the couch as some were on the floor.

At the sight of you entering, their eyes lit up and smile bloom on their faces automatically.

"Is this an intervention?" you asked, walking slowly to where they are, slightly wary of the situation as they would rarely gather together to talk. More often than not, all communication happens in the group chat.

"Because I swear I'll return all your shirts and hoodies," you said, scrunching your nose in nervousness.

Mingi stood up and glomped onto you, nestling his face into the crook of your neck. He had to hunch because he's way taller than you. "You can take our clothes any time you want, this is not an intervention," he mumbled into your skin before detaching and planting a soft peck on your forehead, "missed you," he grinned.

You instinctively held onto Mingi's ring and pinkie as he led you to sit on the available spot at the left end of the U-shaped couch.

"So? Who wants to start?" Yunho asked, breaking the initial building silence.

The boys looked at each other for a bit before their eyes slowly zeroed in on Hongjoong. At the sudden attention, Hongjoong's eyes widened for a split second before scoffing, "one of you better start because I'm not doing it," he said, crossing his arms.

"But you're the leader," Yeosand stated matter-o-factly with a straight face. The others nodding along, agreeing to what Yeosang said.

Hongjoong grumbled at the fact that they're ganging up on him, using his own title against him. This is one of the rare few times he regretted having his title and even using it to his own advantage sometimes. The K in karma stands for Kang Yeosang, it seems.

You pursed your lips, still nervous and slightly uneasy. Historically, when a person is called by a group or collective, it was never for good reasons.

"So, (Y/N)," Hongjoong started, looking directly at you as his fingers fiddled slightly with the rings in his fingers, "do you like being with us?" he asked.

You visibly swallowed the lump in your throat. You couldn't help but feel like they're kicking you out, or the board is making them kick you out, that's the only reasonable explanation to the opening question Hongjoong threw at you, right?

Unconsciously, you leaned closer to Mingi for security and held his fingers tighter. Mingi thought nothing much of it. "Well, I like you guys like a lot, and living with you all has been great! More than great, actually, I never really had a roommate and initially the thought of having 8 roommates scared me especially because well you're guys and guys tend to be dirty and all, but it turns out you guys are freaking awesome, and I couldn't ask for better roommates honestly," you rambled, grinning awkwardly at them.

Most of them had a look of confusion on their faces. They didn't know why you were talking about your living situation when they're obviously asking about something much more substantial than that.

"(Y/N), sweetie," Seonghwa called out, "we're... glad that you're happy living with us here and we honestly wouldn't want it any other way," "wait, so this is not about anyone having a problem with me living here for quite some time now?" you asked, cutting Seonghwa off.

Wooyoung gasped loudly at your question, "no, it's not, sweetie, believe me! Who'd make you feel this way?" he then snapped his head to San who's sitting next to him, "was it you!?" he asked dramatically, holding onto the collars of San's hoodie, "fuck you, if anyone would've made her uncomfortable, it would've been you with your incessant claim on her as her boyfriend which is as true as Yeosang being able to pop unicorn horn from his ass!" San retorted back, grabbing onto Wooyoung's collars as well.

Seonghwa and Yunho immediately jumped up and separated the two, sitting them in next to Jongho and Yeosang who had been snickering at the childish argument.

Once they both calmed down, they all shifted their attention back to you. "We weren't talking about our living situation at all, we're kind of... needing to ask you something important..." Yunho said, trailing off to look at the others as if in confirmation.

No longer feeling nervous, you just shrug at them all, "okay, shoot."

Though you asked them to talk, they all stay glancing at each other. Even Wooyoung, the most confident man you possibly have ever known, couldn't look you directly in the eyes without blushing.

After a while, the tension didn't seem to dissipate and it started to bug you. "Oh, come on! You guys have seen me naked, what could you all possibly have to say that made you all sweating like an old man in a sauna?" you grumbled, crossing your arms on your chest.

Jongho cringed at your words, "don't put you and a sweaty old man in the same sentence, that image's gonna haunt me for weeks," he complained. San stared at him weirdly, "why would you even think about a sweaty old man?" "It's called prompting," "It's called nasty,"

Yeosang exhaled sharply, bringing everyone's attention to him, "since none of you seems to want to seriously ask her, I'll do it," he glared at the other boys before looking straight at you, "how do you feel, non platonically, about all of us?" he asked directly.

While you tilt your head in confusion, everyone else in the room seemed to broke into a meltdown altogether. Some were covering their faces in their hands, others were slumping so lowly on the couch their asses were basically on the floor.

"I... honestly haven't really thought about it," you shrugged, furrowing your eyebrows, "but I can't say I'm not attracted to all of you, sure we're friends and this might be just a fascination thing, but I really can't deny that I definitely feel something for you guys," you continued.

When they heard you say that, they visibly relaxed.

"That's good, because, well..." Yeosang trailed off, waiting for someone else to say it as a rosy tint bloomed on his face, showcasing his bashfulness to everyone.

Thankfully, Hongjoong stepped up and continued Yeosang's sentence, "because we, all eight of us, also can't deny that we feel something for you," he smiled shyly.

Seeing the boys all soft and shy made you giggle. Butterflies formed in your stomach and you had to admit that you like the thought of all of them liking you more than on a platonic level.

"So... every single one of you has feelings for me?" you asked, trying to make sure before you made your conclusion. All eight heads nod and you can't help but to focus on Jongho and Mingi, "you both too?" you asked them both, eyes darting between the two.

While Jongho grinned cockily and nod, Mingi covered his face with one hand in embarrassment, "yeah, kind of," he mumbled. You giggled and reach to try to pry his hand from his face, wanting to see how he look, "when did you start feeling like that, huh? I thought you only think of me as a stress reliever," you whined but eventually succeeding in prying his hand off.

Mingi raised an eyebrow at you, "the fact that we've been sleeping together combined with how amazing you are, it was never about if I'd fall for you, it was about the when," he said. You couldn't help but blush at his words, "so you liked me because we were fuck buddies?" "it sounds bad when you put it like that, but I was intrigued when I first met you which is why I approached you,"

You then shifted your gaze to the others, "When did you all realize you like me?" you asked, "as cliche as it sounds, it was the night we all did it together," Yunho answered.

"Not me," Wooyoung said, raising a hand, "I realized it like a solid couple of weeks after we started our whole fake relationship thing," he grinned proudly, "I began liking the way I call you my girlfriend more than I would like to admit, but I couldn't think of another person more perfect for me than you,"

It was your turn to melt. You covered your face in embarrassment, letting out a muffled squeal at how cheesy Wooyoung's words are. The others chuckled at how adorable you're being.

"You know, the eight of us talked about it before you came back here," Hongjoong said. You calm yourself down before being able to look at him directly in the eyes again, "and... we just wanted to know whether or not you'd like to date us,"

You tilted your head to the side, "like... All nine of us? One girl and eight boys?" you asked, making sure you're not hearing things wrong. But all of them nodded firmly. "It's not orthodox, I'd have to admit, and usually we would each try to win you over for only one of us, but when we were together last time, it just felt natural and I can't speak for these guys, but I didn't feel jealous whatsoever, because I know that you deserve more than just what I could and am willing to give you, and they can fill in where I lack because you deserve nothing but the best," Seonghwa said. He had somehow moved to kneel in between your legs, hands rubbing your knees gently as his eyes shone what you could only describe as pure affection and adoration.

The others piped in agreement with the eldest. It seemed like they know what they're doing and what they want. So the ball was in your court.

On one hand, you adore them to the heavens and back, you couldn't possibly think of having things any other way. And the thought of having to choose between them doesn't sit right with you. Sure, you're just one person, but you're sure if they're right, things will be okay.

But on the other hand, Seonghwa was right, this is highly unorthodox. Sure, you've heard of poly relationships here and there, heck one of your classmates' sister is in a poly relationship with three girls. But you can't deny you live in a society that's filled with judgment and harsh criticism, more than yourself, you're worried about how going down this path would affect them. And besides, how did one went from not wanting to even have random hookups due to wanting to have a relationship with 8 guys?

"See the look on her face? The wheels are turning in there," you heard Jongho muttered to the rest of them who had moved to kneel in front of you somewhere during your thoughts.

You glared at him shortly before pouting, "I do want to know if there could be something more to this," you started. The boys were about to celebrate when you cut them off, "BUT, I'm not sure on how this is gonna be, let's face it, you guys seemed to realize that you like me after we had sex," "I didn't," Wooyoung cut you off which was immediately shut by Yeosang, putting a hand over his mouth, "feelings tend to mash then and I wouldn't be surprised if it was the sexual pull talking," you sighed.

Their shoulder seemingly slumped hearing you say that. They didn't even discuss that, they were pretty sure that they genuinely like you and want to be more with you. Maybe they didn't want what you said to even be a possibility.

Suddenly, San perked up, "wait, if what you're worried about is whether or not our feelings are the real deal or not, then why don't you just test it? You can just decide later if we're gonna officially date or not. Take things slowly, you know?" he grinned brightly.

Slowly, each of the boys' eyes widened and shone with hope, thinking that San's plan is actually probable.

"Finally, San said something fucking smart for once," Yunho muttered, earning a harsh nudge to his hip by a glaring San.

The idea wasn't bad. It was actually good. This way, all of you can be sure and there would be no regrets, no one got hurt.

You squint your eyes at him, "but what would that make us?" "that's the beauty of it, there would be no official title until we make our decision," he said proudly. You pursed your lips, feelings swaying and leaning on the positive, "and how long do I have to make a decision?" this time, Yeosang answered, "as long as you need, we won't rush you," he smiled gently at you, making your stupid heart flip.

The idea WAS appealing, it was a win-win for sure.

When a smile broke on your face, the boys had to hold themselves together to let you confirm their suspicion.

"I'm in, let's try and see where we all can go,"

Before you could even take a breath after answering, the boys had pulled you forward in a giant group hug on the floor. You found yourself squished by eight men who are hollering, cheering, trying to kiss you, and trying to hold onto you as tightly as possible. While the position was uncomfortable, you couldn't care less.

Because being in the centre of them all felt right. It felt like you belong.

taglist :

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[and-justice-for-zoisite]

𝔻𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕠𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕖 (𝒟𝒶𝓋𝒾𝒹 𝟪 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇)

Official Masterlist

Summary: The reader and David are out exploring the insides of the hollow rock mass on LV223 and soon come to find that they have been separated from the group. After a little bit of aimless wondering and witty banter amongst the two of them, the reader trips over a large rock that she hadn’t seen due to the dark and hurts her knee, and of course, her favourite android is the one to rescue her. 

A/n: Dude I’m so sorry this has literally been sitting in my drafts for a whole year and I’m only finishing it now lmao!

Original Request: I absolutely love your David 8 stuff! Shark week really got me :'D Could you do me a favour and maybe write a little thing for him where the reader hurt their knee on a mission and can't walk anymore? I hope this make sense. Please stay safe and sane!

~

“Dr (L/n), I believe we are lost.”

“We are not!”

“Then perhaps you know where the rest of the group are?”

“Shut it, you.”

The current situation for Dr (Y/n) (L/n) and android David was not ideal in the slightest. She looks away for one second to examine the biological mass she found on one of the rocky walls only to find that she is without human company when she looks back up again. At first, she wasn’t all that worried when she found that it was just her and the android, after all, he was supposed to have a navigation system programmed into him, right? Well...he did, until it malfunctioned. Such convenient timing that was. 

“What exactly are you planning we do about the situation, Doctor?” the blonde android asked, following behind the woman who’s pace was fast. “I’m looking for the others David, what else would you expect me to do??” She asked, irritated at the fact that this mission was becoming more difficult than it needed to be. “Possibly contacting those at the ship and asking them for assistance,” he answered, (Y/n) clenching both of her fists as well as her teeth together as her irritation grew by the second. “We already tried that. And if you hadn’t touched me during your system meltdown,” she stopped and spun around, facing David, “we wouldn’t be in this situation!” David’s brow twitched downward slightly, and he looked down at the irked woman. It wasn’t exactly his fault that he had made contact with her when he had a full system malfunction, he could walk or see straight. And when he did touch her, it caused all of her own gear to malfunction, though thankfully her oxygen tank still worked, should they need to leave the premises.  “There’s no need to shout, Doctor,” he assured her in a gentle voice, to which she groaned loudly and tugged at her own hair as she spun around and kicked a rock. “This is hopeless! I’m gonna die out here!” she fumed, beginning to stomp off to which David followed, “become a biologist, they said! It’ll be fun, they said! What a bunch of absolute tossers-ah!”

In all of her fury she hadn’t noticed the uneven surface below her. That caused her to trip over, and unfortunately she scraped her knee. Now, this scrape wasn’t your usual bit of blood that could be treated easily and brushed off. Not only was it bleeding, but in the actual bone of her knee she felt agony. 

“Uh- Dr (L/n), are you alright?” David asked as he knelt down at her side. “Do I look alright, David?!” she snapped, holding her knee and groaning in pain. “We need to find assistance immediately,” David said, ignoring the anger in her voice as he looked up into her eyes, “can you walk?”

To test that, she tried carefully to hoist herself up and onto her feet. However, the second she did, she cried out in pain and fell back over again. Luckily, this time around, David was there to catch her, and as she fell into him, she felt her face heat up in both embarrassment and something else. 

“Oh dear, I suppose I shall have to carry you,” he said, to which her face brightened in colour and she leaned away from him a little. “Now wait just a second, I’m no damsel in distress here!” she objected, “I can walk just fine on my own.” “You may be resilient, but you risk further damage to your knee,” David pointed out, raising a questioning brow at her, ”surely you’d rather risk your dignity than physical damage, that’s the smarter way to go about business.”

She was about to object once again when she realised that he was 100% right, and maybe she was just taking her anger out on him because he was the nearest person.

When she shut up, David smiled slightly and picked her up bridal style.

It took them a while, but eventually they did find the group, and upon learning that (Y/n) had hurt herself, they immediately retreated back to the ship. 

Once they’d made it back, David treated (Y/n)’s wounds and brought her to her room, where he laid her on her bed.

“Now, if you need anything, just press the assistance buzzer and I’ll be right here,” David instructed as he prepared to leave.

But as he reached the door, she spoke up.

“Hey David,” she called, to which he stopped and turned to face you again, “there is something I need, actually.” “Yes, Dr?” he asked, (Y/n) looking down shyly as she run her hand across the space on her bed beside her. “...some company, would be nice...” she whispered, David smiling sweetly as he nodded and strolled over to the bed.

Sitting down, he carefully laid on his back and drew the girl in with his arms, encasing her in a warm yet gentle embrace. 

She was sorry that she ever yelled at him.

~

[wabitham]

 Amber had the highest grades of them all   She was the one who helped Tara the most when she saw her struggling - with schoolwork and with home life   Sam babysat her too just less frequently. but she started spending more time with Tara because the school asked her to tutor her   Tara had always been a quiet & happy child. If a little weird and talked about her sister far too much. But now?   Now she was quiet in a whole new way   Amber would watch as her whole demeanour would change when Sam appeared and deflate when she would leave   She would watch as Tara would rush to grab their supplies and drag Amber upstairs whenever her mother appeared   She would listen to her parents tut about that poor girl and watch the world pity Tara Carpenter and she didn't quite get it   Until the day she watched Tara have a meltdown in class: she yelled at the teacher and kicked over her desk and stormed out the room   and it was ADORABLE and fascinating. The teacher wasn't even mad. He just sighed.   Amber became fascinated. She had to know every part of Tara. She had to know just why the world bent around her.   (she never found an answer that satisfied her)   from that day Tara became hers - hers to protect. hers to keep. hers to control.   Tara pretty much already does what she wants. So easy and complaint. Just happy to be included. To be wanted. There's just one problem: Sam   So Amber begins to hate Sam because Tara loves her so much. She would drop anything and everything for Sam. Sam doesn't deserve it.   Amber deserves it. She looks after Tara. She helps her. She makes sure she isn't alone.

These are seriously too good to be hidden in the tags 😭 or do you plan on having a separate headcanon post on Amber and Tara? 👀

@krikeymate

Yes, in the American school system you can graduate early. Personally, my last year in high school was super easy because I had enough credits and passed the requirements to graduate after my junior year. The only reason I didn’t was for financial reasons. It’s also possible to drop out of school and still get a high school “diploma” through a GED, a General Educational Development Test.

@flyby1827 Thank you!! That is super helpful and good to know. It also makes the Tara age situation even funnier. I've always considered Tara to be smart - and she still is - but she's now a terrible student. I'm giving her dyslexia (makes Sam figure out how many stops they have left). Who else wants to chime in on this, what else has this baby got wrong with her?

[nerdzzone]

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Note: I’ve decided to make this five parts instead of four. I was originally going to combine this part and the next one, but I feel like it flows better with a bit of separation between them!

Part One

____

Part Two

The rest of our first afternoon together was spent lazing around. Grayson was tired, but continued to refuse his nap so we kept things low key to avoid any exhausted toddler meltdowns. By the time the evening rolled around, I was tired from the stress of the day myself and since I still had to unpack, I went up to my bedroom shortly after we'd tucked Grayson into bed.

I slept a lot better than I thought I would given everything that was on my mind and when I woke up, I could already hear the sounds of breakfast echoing up from the kitchen. Taking a few minutes to let myself wake up properly, I checked my phone and scrolled through social media before getting up, stretching and heading downstairs.

"Good morning," I smiled, finding Chris and Grayson sitting at the island eating some scrambled eggs while Scott leaned against the counter with a cereal bowl in his hands.

"G'morning, Mama!"

Grayson's greeting was said through a mouthful of food and Chris reminded him that wasn't polite before greeting me himself.

"Help yourself to whatever you want," he insisted. "There's some eggs left in the pan or cereal, whatever you can find. Maybe Grayson will even share his apple slices with you if you ask nicely."

Grayson gasped at that suggestion and frantically shook his head.

"No, Daddy!" He protested. "I don't want to share!"

I laughed as he reached over his plate to move the little bowl of sliced fruit closer to his body where he could keep it guarded.

"Not even one slice?" I asked. "But I'm so hungry!"

"Over there!" Grayson giggled, pointing at the counter.

I turned around and saw a few more apples in a bowl, making me smile as I turned back to the boys.

"But they're not nicely sliced like yours," I pointed out. "How can I eat those?"

Grayson shrugged and plucked one of his apples out of his bowl. He looked smug, thinking he'd won, but he was so distracted while he took a bite that he didn't see Chris' hand sneak over until he'd snatched one of the slices and tossed it to me.

"Catch!"

I did as Chris instructed and Grayson's jaw dropped. An indignant huff fell from his lips as he looked between the two of us.

"That's not nice."

Chris laughed, but I bit back a smile and returned his apple.

"You're right, baby," I agreed, kissing the top of your head. "That was mean, but we were just tricking you. You don't have to share your apple."

"Thanks, Mama."

The frown on his face turned back into a grin and I scraped the rest of the eggs that were in the pan on the stove onto a plate before turning back to the boys once I’d pulled a fork from the drawer.

"So, how do you want to work it with things like groceries while I'm here?"

"Just tell me what you want and I'll order it," Chris told me. "They've started doing curbside pick up pretty much everywhere so I was thinking I'd just do that."

"Oh, that's handy, but I meant like money wise. Should I just transfer you my share or do you want to alternate who pays?"

Chris stared at me for a moment as if he was trying to figure out if I was joking before he chuckled.

"I'm not taking any money from you, Whitney."

His voice was firm, but I furrowed my brow in confusion.

"What? Why not? I can't let you pay for everything."

"You're not still working, are you?" Scott asked. "Or is it different since, as a photographer, you're so far away from whoever you're taking pictures of?"

"I'm not working," I admitted. "I think it would be doable if it was, like, family portraits or something like that, but the big photo shoots involve too many people. Everyone cancelled on me last week or delayed my contracts until at least the summer."

"So, don't worry about paying for anything then," Chris shrugged. "It's not like you're going to eat that much, I think I can handle the cost."

He was trying to do a nice thing. He was a very generous person with those that he cared about, but I wasn't going to take advantage of him.

"I have savings, Chris," I insisted. "I'm not completely helpless."

As if sensing a rising tension, Scott put his bowl in the sink and grabbed his coffee mug before turning to Grayson.

"Hey, Gray, let's go see what cartoons we can find."

Grayson nodded eagerly and Chris helped him down from the tall stool so he could follow Scott out of the room, taking his little bowl of apples with him.

"I wasn't trying to imply that you're helpless," Chris assured me once they were out of earshot. "But you're tiny, I don't think that buying you a few groceries for the next couple of months will financially cripple me."

I tried to temper my defensiveness before I answered him, reminding myself again that he was trying to be helpful.

"I know that, but I don't feel comfortable living here for that long without contributing," I told him. "You already give me more than you need to every month for Grayson."

It was true. Since our custody agreement was that Grayson spent fifty percent of his time with each of us, he wasn't required to pay me any child support. But he did anyway. It was something we’d argued about on and off over the years because the amount that he gave me was way over the top. I appreciated his generosity and I did use all the money to buy things for Gray, but most of it ended up in a bank account that I'd opened for him because there was no way to spend it all in one month without Grayson becoming the most spoiled child in all of Massachusetts.

"I like to make sure he's taken care of."

"Which I am capable of doing with my own money when he's in my care," I reminded him. "But I don't want to start that whole conversation again. I just want to feel like I'm doing my part while I stay with you."

"And I appreciate that gesture, but it won't be necessary," Chris insisted. "You can clean, you can cook, do anything like that to help out, but I won't accept any money, especially while you're not working."

I sighed as he stood up to put his plate in the dishwasher while I put mine on the counter, too distracted by our conversation to eat. I knew it would be a struggle to get him to agree to take money from me, but I wasn't ready to back down so I thought of a compromise and hoped he would accept.

"How about we drop it for now," I suggested. "But if this thing goes on for more than a couple of weeks, can we talk about it again?"

Chris paused and crossed his arms. I could tell that he wanted to argue, but I was relieved when he agreed.

"Alright," he nodded, hesitating for a moment before adding a stipulation to the deal. "But we're going to talk about your car too before you leave here."

"My car? What about my car?"

"Grayson told me that it's not working properly," Chris admitted. "He said it sounds angry sometimes and that you haven't gotten it checked out yet."

I rolled my eyes, guessing that was one of those 'secrets' that he mentioned.

"It's fine," I assured him. "It made a weird sound one time last week when I tried to start it, but it's still working. I was going to take it in, but then all this virus stuff happened and I didn't have chance."

"You need a new one," Chris informed me. "That one is getting old anyway. I'll take you car shopping when things reopen."

I laughed at the absurdity of that statement, but I could see the annoyance on his face at my reaction.

"You're not buying me a car, Chris. The one I have is perfectly fine and if it's not then I will take myself car shopping, thank you very much."

"Why do you get so defensive when I try to help you?" He asked, his eyes shifting into a glare. "I'm not going to accidentally think that you're in love with me just because you accept a nice gesture from me. I can take a hint, Whitney, I get it."

My jaw dropped and I couldn't hold back a disgruntled scoff at his insane change of topic.

"What are you even talking about? This has nothing to do with that," I argued. "I wouldn’t have accepted your invitation if I knew you were going to hold that over me and throw it in my face all the time."

“All the time? This is the first time I’ve mentioned it!”

“Yes, but I’ve not even been here for twenty-fours hours and you’ve already brought it up!”

Perhaps it was my harsh, snappy tone that did it or my very valid criticism of his low blow, but Chris' body language softened.

"I just don't get why you get so worked up when I'm trying to help you..."

"Because I don't need help, Chris," I explained. "I might not be Captain America rich, but I do just fine and I can take care of myself. I can buy my own groceries and if I really needed to, I could buy myself a new car. You throwing money at me for things like that makes me feel like you don't value the success I've had in my career or my ability to manage my finances which is, quite frankly, offensive."

Chris dropped his arms so they were no longer crossed and his shoulders relaxed. Clearly, he'd been getting quite defensive as well and had realized it, whether he would admit it or not. I held my head high, proud of myself for explaining my feelings so well and taking him down a notch, but that feeling disappeared as soon as Chris spoke.

"If you were the richest woman in the world, I would still want to buy you a car," Chris started, looking more nervous than the dismissive, self-assured attitude I was getting moments ago. "I'd still want to buy you anything you could ever need because making you happy makes me happy."

My face fell at his confession and my heart clenched again, knowing what the underlying sentiment behind his statement was. It stung more than any hurtful words could have as the sincerity, the genuine care and appreciation, in his voice was heartbreaking. I regretted not adding a condition to our cohabitation that specified he wasn't allowed to say such nice, guilt inducing things as I stared at him for a moment, trying to think of a way to get out of this conversation that was more polite than just bolting out the door. 

Too much time was passing as his words hung between us so, short of any good comeback to his words, I shrugged.

"If you want to make me happy, let me contribute for the groceries."

It was Chris' turn to look shocked now, as he was obviously expecting a more thoughtful response to his rather vulnerable admission, but he pulled himself together quickly and a dry laugh fell from his lips.

"Nice try, Whitney," he smiled, shaking his head. "But that's not going to happen."

Without giving me any more time to argue, he turned on his heels and walked out the door leaving me alone to wallow in my guilt and wonder how much longer I'd be able to keep up my act of nonchalance.

-

There was a weird sense of restlessness in the house that day. Usually, killing a few days at home would be no big deal but, as soon as the stay at home orders came into place that morning, the knowledge that we were now unable to do anything else made it feel slightly more suffocating.

Chris wasn't lying though when he said that he planned to make this lockdown as enjoyable as possible so we managed to keep ourselves entertained as we planned out some of the things we could do. Chris and Scott were compiling a list of old movies they wanted to watch again, I ordered a bunch of puzzles and books (some more child appropriate and some for the adults), Chris dug out an old wiffle ball set he had from when they were kids and Scott organized Chris' video game collection, pulling out all the good ones like their favourite: Mario Kart.

By the end of the day, we were all feeling much more optimistic about how our time at home would go. Especially Grayson. It was finally starting to sink in for him that he got to spend the foreseeable future surrounded by all his favourite people - something that was unfortunately a rarity for him given our situation. He was bouncing off the walls as he threw his ideas into the mix and couldn't wait to get started on all the fun.

The excitement of the day led to another early night for him and I excused myself shortly after, declining the invitation to start practicing my Mario Kart skills.

After our conversation that morning, I was trying to keep a bit of distance from Chris. I wasn't mad and it didn't seem like he had any lasting feelings of annoyance either, but our earlier discussion proved to me that there was still tension and resentment between us. I wanted to let it settle and give him some space so our small disagreement didn't turn into a full-blown argument. Living together after everything we'd been through would be an adjustment period and easing into it would probably be the safest route.

So, I took myself off to my bedroom and lounged in bed watching some new mystery show on Netflix. I started it thinking it would just be a good way to pass a few hours until a reasonable time to go to bed but as usual with Netflix, I got sucked in and before I knew it, it was almost midnight.

I closed my laptop, knowing I needed to get some sleep as Grayson was an early riser, but I noticed the glass of water I'd taken upstairs with me hours ago was empty and my mouth was dry. With a sigh, I dragged myself out of bed, taking the glass to the kitchen to fill it up.

I crept down the stairs, assuming everyone would be in bed already, but I was surprised when I got to the kitchen to see the light on. I poked my head into the room and saw Scott sitting at the little island in the middle of the room, a drink in his hand and a melancholy look on his face.

"Hey," I greeted him, alerting him to my presence. "You're up late..."

"I was just FaceTiming with my boyfriend. He's in LA so it worked with the time difference."

"Boyfriend?" I questioned as I headed over to the sink to fill up my glass. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

"It's pretty new," he sighed. "We've only been together about a month now."

"That's so exciting! You didn't want to stay in LA and quarantine with him?"

"No, we thought it was too fresh for us to, like, fully move in together and if I was in LA and not living with him then we wouldn't see each other anyway, so I decided I may as well come here."

"That's really hard," I frowned as I pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. "I'm sorry that you had to make a decision like that."

"It's alright," he shrugged despite the sad look on his face. "A lot of people have had to make much tougher decisions than that lately."

"That doesn't mean you can't be upset anyway."

"I know, but I'll be alright. I'm just glad we've got so many ways to stay in touch." He flashed me a smile and I was glad to see it. Scott was a good guy and one of those people who was usually so positive and upbeat that it was hard to see him feeling down. "What about you? How are you doing with everything?"

"Oh, I don't know," I sighed. "Do you mean the deadly virus plaguing the world? Or the fact that I'm in lockdown with the father of my child who I have a fairly complicated history with?"

"Both," Scott chuckled as he sipped his drink of what looked to be whiskey. "But I was more referring to being here in lockdown with Chris."

"It's hard, but I'm doing okay. It's just a weird situation."

"It'll definitely take some time to get used to for both of you," he nodded. "He felt really bad this morning. He told me what you said about how offensive it is when he throws money at you all the time and I totally agree, but I hope you know his heart was in the right place. He tells everyone how talented you are, he would never want to belittle your career."

"I know," I winced. "I overreacted a little bit."

"No, not at all!" Scott assured me. "He needed to hear it. I've been on the receiving end of it too so I know how you felt, but he doesn't realize how it comes off some times. He's just trying to be generous and help the people he loves."

I nodded and I knew that I should just end the conversation there. Tell him that I understood what Chris' intent was and leave it at that. But my heart overpowered my brain and I found myself opening up before I could stop myself.

"I just don't exactly deserve to be on that list," I reminded him. "And I shouldn't take advantage of any feelings he might have for me after the decision that I made."

"You really do deserve to be on that list," he told me with a smile. "He's really in love with you."

"Love might be a bit extreme," I scoffed. "He's made his feelings clear, I know he cares about me, but it's not love."

"He's not made his feelings clear enough then," Scott countered. "Because he's been head over heels in love with you since pretty much the moment he met you."

My mouth went dry as my brain fought to comprehend that claim while all my instincts were telling me that it wasn't true. Scott wouldn't lie to me, he wasn't that kind of person, but he could be exaggerating especially since he had been drinking. There was an honesty in his eyes though, a look that told me he was telling the truth, but I couldn't accept it, it just didn't make sense.

"That's not true," I argued. "He only ever saw me as a friend until that one night and that night was a mistake."

But Scott was confident in what he'd shared and he shook his head.

"He never saw you as just a friend. You were his endgame from day one."

Perhaps it was a delaying tactic, perhaps it was a nervous response or I was subconsciously trying to buy myself some time to make sense of what he was trying to tell me, but a giggle slipped out at Scott's choice of words.

"Endgame? Is that an Avengers joke?"

"It wasn't intentional," he assured me with a laugh, but he was quick to get us back on topic. "But I mean it. We had a conversation just a few weeks after you met and he was talking about you like you hung the moon. He's been enamoured from the start."

I couldn't wrap my head around it. He was speaking with such confidence, but the words he was saying might as well have been another language. Knowing what I knew about our situation, how things had unfolded between us, how that first night together went down and the aftermath of it, there was no sign that Chris had been in love with me. He cared about me, that much I knew, but to be in love? That didn't add up.

Especially when I'd had those feelings all along as well. Surely, I would have noticed had they been reciprocated.

I'd fallen silent as my brain buzzed, scrambling for any gesture or obvious evidence that I'd missed that might prove Scott's claim, but when he spoke again, I was pulled from my thoughts.

"Do you not feel the same way about him?" He asked. "And there's no judgment here, I can see both sides. I love Chris and I want him to be happy, but I respect what you're trying to do."

I felt my heart rate spike again as my palms grew sweaty in a way that was becoming annoyingly familiar.

I was aware of the importance of this conversation, but I was also aware that I wasn't having it with the right person. If Scott was being honest then Chris must have had his reasons for not sharing the depth of his feelings with me and it felt sneaky and deceitful that I was finding out from someone else. It also felt wrong that the answer to Scott's question was on the tip of my tongue. Chris deserved to know before his brother, but I was tired. Fighting through this mess all by myself was wearing me down and Scott had always been one of those people that compelled you to pour your heart out to him. He was a better listener than most and I needed someone, anyone, to give me some kind of guidance. So the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"I do feel the same," I admitted, my eyes firmly locked on the glass of water on the table in front of me as I worried I'd be too anxious to speak if I looked Scott in the eye. "I love him very much."

"Then why are you so scared to give him a chance?" He questioned. "Just because of Grayson?"

I nodded, but even I was starting to doubt my own motivations.

"We work together so well right now, but if we give it a shot and someone ends up getting hurt then we might not be able to put our feelings aside and keep things peaceful."

"But aren't you hurting each other every day that you spend in love with each other, but not together?" He pointed out. "Yet, you manage to put Grayson first through all that pain."

His words hit me like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head.

It was an excellent point.

We were both hurting from being apart, it was clear from how defensive we got over silly little things like we had that morning. I could only imagine how Chris felt, but it was hard for me to be around him all the time and just keep things friendly when in my heart I wanted more. I ached at the sight of him every time I dropped Grayson off or picked him up, but we still managed to be friendly and polite through that.

"How many of those drinks have you had?” I teased earning a laugh from Scott. “They’ve made you too wise.”

"Not enough," he joked. "But it's true, isn't it?"

"It is true, but it's different," I insisted. "If we were together and broke up, that kind of hurt can come with a lot of anger. Right now, we might be sad or disappointed about the situation, but there's no anger."

"Oh, there was anger," Scott informed me, grimacing slightly. "After Christmas, when he came back from dropping Grayson off at your house there was definitely anger. He slammed doors, stormed around the house, got drunk off his ass and ranted about it for hours. I've never seen him that upset over being turned down before."

My heart sank at that news. I knew that he'd been upset, but I didn't think he'd taken it that badly. I thought he was just a bit sulky, but now my guilt intensified.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion. "I feel bad enough as it is..."

"Oh, honey, I'm not trying to make you feel bad," Scott assured me, reaching over to rub my back as I forced back the tears that had sprung to my eyes. "But it proves that even if one of you ends up heartbroken, you can still put Grayson first because you just did it."

"I didn't, Chris did," I pointed out after clearing my throat. "If it wasn't up to me, if Chris came to his senses and ditched me for some beautiful actress, then I'm not sure that I could be so forgiving."

"Why would he ditch you?"

As promised, there was no judgment in Scott's voice, just genuine curiosity and I shrugged as I answered.

"Because he could have any woman in America."

"Maybe not any woman, let's not get carried away," Scott smirked, his teasing tone making me smile. "But for such a relationship loving guy, don't you think it's interesting that he hasn't been in a serious relationship in about five years?"

That wasn't something I'd put much thought into, but it wasn't the 'gotcha' moment that it seemed like Scott had hoped it was.

"Not really. He's been busy with work the last few years," I pointed out. "And having a baby with me must have complicated his personal life a bit."

"You complicated his personal life the moment he met you," Scott insisted. "That's my point."

He sounded so sure of himself, but the words he was saying were still hard for me to comprehend. I'd always been so confident in my understanding of our relationship and if I was to believe him, it would shatter everything I thought I knew.

"I just don't see why he wouldn't have mentioned this by now..."

"You know how he gets with his anxiety. He's not always the over confident hotshot that people assume he is," Scott reminded me. "But you'll have to talk to him if you want more information than that."

I let out a sigh as I knew he was right.

"There's a lot that we need to talk about," I admitted. "Thank you for this though, Scott, you've given me a lot to think about."

"Anytime," he smiled. "And I completely respect that you're willing to put Grayson first despite whatever feelings you have. You're a wonderful mom and I would be proud to call you my sister-in-law."

I laughed at his outrageous leap from even considering a relationship straight to marriage and shook my head.

"You need to go to bed, Scott," I instructed. "You've clearly had too much to drink tonight."

"I probably have," he agreed. "But I meant everything that I've said. Think about it, okay?"

I nodded as I slid off the stool I was sitting on, wrapping my arms around him in a quick hug.

"I'm here for you too, you know that right?" I asked as I stepped back. "If you ever want to talk about your situation or vent and complain about the distance, whatever you need, I'm here."

"Thanks, Whitney," he smiled before dragging himself off his stool as well. "Goodnight."

I returned his smile and mumbled a 'goodnight' of my own before heading back to bed with all the new information that Scott had provided echoing around in my head. While it had been a very informative conversation, I wasn't quite sure whether I came away from it with the clarity I was looking for or just more confusion.

-

Part Three

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7​ @hockeychick10

[dragynkeep]

you’re 25 full years old screaming at a minor and you’re having a meltdown because someone assumed you were a girl because of the way you type like please stop being crazy

People who choose to hide behind "Anonymous" don't get to claim "you're attacking me because of this aspect of my identity." Nameless gray circles with sunglasses don't have an identity. There is no possible way that ais (or Luke for that matter) could have know that you're supposedly "a minor." You deliberately withheld that information from them when you decided to attack them on Anon, and the only reason you're pulling that card now is because you're desperately trying to pretend that they're just as bad as you are. You misgendered them and got called out for it, so now you're trying to pretend that they're "attacking uwu minors" (conveniently leaving out that one of you is SENDING THE ASKS and the other one is only ANSWERING THEM, so anybody with so much as half a braincell can tell that you're the one attacking and harassing them) so that you can feel better about your misogynistic transphobic ass.

However, you CLEARLY had read Ironpines' pinned post, if you're making claims about their age, so don't think you can hide behind "yOu tYpE LiKe A giRl" as an "excuse" for misgendering them. You knew that ais is nonbinary, and deliberately misgendered them to punish them for *tagging their azula-related posts as related to azula* when YOU didn't want see it and aren't mature enough to use the block or filter-tags options and cultivate your own online experience like a rational human capable of thought.

Also, deliberately turning "typing" into a gendered activity isn't as much of an "excuse" as you seem to think it is. Either you're a radfem that knew ais is non-binary and deliberately misgendered them to hurt them and are now lying to cover your ass since it got called out, OR you're a radfem who thinks "typing" is inexplicably something that can be separated into male/female categories. Either way, you're a RadFem.

Also also, good job trying to gaslight ais into thinking your tantrum is somehow their fault by pretending that they called you a RadFem for "caring about tags" even though OBVIOUSLY they called you a RadFem for misgendering them on purpose, and also trying to gaslight them by LITERALLY CALLING THEM CRAZY for pointing out your inappropriate behavior. Gold star, really.

So, let's take note: You're attempting to gaslight someone because you got called out for being transphobic in your attempts to gatekeep the tags, all in defense of your oh-so-precious girlboss.

And this whole thing started because ironpines got attacked for "lying" that there are toxic people among azula's stans lmao I couldn't make this up if I wanted to XD

You can never say our day is boring at least.

[comfortmarvelimagines]

You are Home, and Home is Safe

heyhey ! deciding to just get it over with and post this tonight (for those of you who don’t know what i’m talking about, a post explaining can be found here. side note, please be nice in my inbox, its been rough getting some of those comments). i am, however, going to continue to tag autistic!reader fics with #whenyoucantfindthequiet and #wycftq, so they’re easier to find. hope it’s what you’re after, nonnie, and i’m so so sorry it took so long !!

features : autistic!reader x mama!nat, lowkey asshole Tony Stark (it’s okay i didn’t make him really mean, just kinda well-meaning but misplaced/ mistimed) 

warnings : uhhh i guess meltdowns, some self-injurious behaviour

Words are hard. Always have been, always will be. 

You haven't always had a family. For years you were passed from foster home to foster home, with a consistent message: you were too much. Your needs were too high, your behaviour too confusing, your struggles too much to deal with. It got to a point where you began to question yourself, your diagnoses and trauma, wondering if it was all in your head or for attention like you were told over and over. 

That changed when you met Nat. 

It wasn’t immediate of course. There was the initial period of complete and total distrust, of another stranger whose life you were thrust into the middle of, floundering and drowning with no support. There was shutdown after shutdown. The trauma of being ignored and punished for meltdowns meant that you’d learned to internalise. You barely ate, and didn’t speak. But Nat met you where you were, unwaveringly. Was always calm, composed, voice level. Kept food out on the kitchen bench at all times, figuring out your safe foods and keeping them stocked. Realised you liked small enclosed spaces and stocked your bedroom with beanbags, pillows, stuffies and blankets, a permanent blanket fort taking up residence in the living space. Perhaps the most wonderful was her commitment to listening to you, with or without words. The superspy was quick to recognise your shutdown states from body language alone and responded quickly, with two option questions and the request to tap the hand of the answer you wanted. 

You almost wanted to feel embarrassed, humiliated, of the accommodations she made so immediately. But she always spoke to you conversationally and never in an infantilizing tone, like so many before her, and the trust you held for her grew. It didn’t always grow in a way that you felt was positive, though. As weeks passed you felt your shutdowns turn into meltdowns and silence into frustrated screams. You didn’t want to hurt her. You didn’t want to feel ungrateful or angry or like any of this was on purpose but somehow she knew. As she held you close after each one she reminded you that your body was unlearning trauma, that you were safe, that you were loved so fully and unconditionally and nothing, including meltdowns, would change that. The way she held you felt like home. 

But no one else was like Nat. Social workers were condescending, school was overwhelming, nowhere was safe. So you stuck to Nat. It wasn’t long after you were placed with her that she pulled you out of school, realising that they were doing more harm than good, and she was always there for homeschool. Not looking over your shoulder, but present. You could hear her humming through the walls, or swearing as she dropped a spoon into a pot of soup on the stove again, and it was comforting. It wasn’t the apartment that was home, per say, but having a parent made it feel like one. If she went to the grocery store or a walk in the park you came with, ear defenders on, clinging to her sleeve for safety. She told you that she loved you a million times a day, until one day you said it back. 

Words came easier after that. Simple things, like asking what’s for breakfast, became routine. It wasn’t just Nat softly illuminating the cramped space with hummed melodies and occasionally vulgar language but you as well, asking for help with homework or explaining a meme. It felt normal, comfortable, okay. The outside world was too much, but inside your home, the anxiety all but melted from your throat. 

You never wanted to leave safety. You wanted to feel it all the time. It was warm and sweet and heavy but in a calm way, like a weighted blanket sinking into your joints. It started as a one-time-thing, after a particularly rough meltdown, but you started sleeping in Nat’s bed. It just felt… right. The panic that set in when Nat left the room and you didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing or if she was ever going to come back was so all-consuming and nauseating that going to sleep alone, in another room, unable to hear her was torturous. What if she abandoned you, gone in the night, social worker beckoning you on to the next uncaring couple, crowded foster family or group home? This way, when you woke at 2am from a nightmare, the first thing you heard was her even breathing. Home. Safe. 

***

Tony Stark was something else. Nat eventually started to transition back to work, and, as being homeschooled permitted, brought you with her. Even in classified meetings where you weren’t allowed in you sat in corridors and made sure you could see her red braid through the frosted glass, glancing up from your laptop every few seconds to make sure she didn’t disappear while you wrote your English critique. The rest of Nat’s colleagues (it felt too weird to just casually refer to them as the Avengers and co) didn’t mention your presence, at least in front of you; it was as if they didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Not that you’d say anything back. Outside of the safety of home it was like the anxiety disconnected your brain from your throat, anything you wanted to say cut off before it reached your tongue. It was frustrating. The first few days ended in meltdowns when you reached the apartment and it felt weird and strange and almost like you were two different people but an all-round embarrassment of a child. It was weeks before things settled into a routine and a pattern of acknowledged non-acknowledgement. A pattern Stark ignored. 

You were sitting at the island bench in the communal kitchen, drinking chocolate milk and typing out an assignment, when you heard both Nat and Tony heading down the hall towards you. They’d just come out of a meeting, you sitting watch outside the whole time, and Nat had sent you to the kitchen to wait for her while she headed upstairs with Tony to drop off some paperwork to an intern. You hadn’t thought much of it. Sure, you didn’t like being away from Nat at all, but if she was clear in where she was going and how long she was going for (provided it was only a short period), you did okay. It was okay, until you heard the discussion from down the hall. 

“Damn, Nat, is that the longest you’ve been away from the kid?” 

“No.” 

“C’mon, Nat. I know the kid’s been through some shit, but this isn’t healthy. For either of you. What happens if you can’t get out of the mission next time? They’re gonna have to be away from you at some point. You can’t be in this line of work with a barnacle of a kid.” 

You’d heard enough. As the topic changed and they entered the kitchen, you didn’t look up from your laptop in greeting.  

*** 

Too much. Too clingy. Too anxious, too needy, too autistic, too much. You needed separation. Give Nat space. Of course she needed to work. The world needed her, and they didn’t need you tagging along. When you got home that night, you headed straight to your room. Buried yourself in the mountain of blankets and stuffies and waited until Nat came to check on you, facing the wall, feigning sleep. You doubt you fooled the former spy but nonetheless, she left you be, a whispered “I love you” hanging in the air as she creaked the door close behind her. 

It was seconds before you broke. It felt like choking. All of the fear that was slowly reduced to an ebbing tide through months of living in a caring environment crashed on you like the mother of all tsunamis, saltwater running down your cheeks and into your mouth as if smothering all the words you wished you could scream. It lasted for hours and hours and it was relentless, painful, as if your heart was being ripped out and an empty throbbing numbness was expanding in its place. You were too much. Too much. Too much. 

Nat stood outside your door at the time when she’d usually be gently waking you up, watching you unfurl and stretch yourself out of the cocoon of blankets you slept in every night. She knew something was wrong from lunch yesterday, and your isolation from her was concerning. She figured you needed space, but the sleep she knew was an act sat at the back of her mind and bugged her all night long. Even with that nagging suspicion that something was up, nothing prepared her for the way her heart sank when she came in and saw your body curled up, eyes red and barely open from exhaustion, pillow and face damp from tears. 

She was at your side in seconds. Your resolve to cut yourself off melted at the sight of her open arms, safe, warm, home. And immediately your body melted. Hands running through your hair, the promise that you were safe, loved, worthy of support, the request to “tell me next time, please, you don’t need to deal with this on your own.” 

For some reason, those were the words that broke out the first sounding sob in the 12 hours of silent crying. It was so loud and gut-wrenching and it almost didn’t feel like it came from you at all and it was such a weird feeling, and all of a sudden you were scratching at your arms to try and re-embody yourself and Nat was breathing calmly and deeply and gently rubbing your shoulders until you found yourself easing back into your physicality.  

“Did you hear what Stark said yesterday?” 

And just like that she figured it out, of course she did, because she’s a trained spy and that’s her job, to put the pieces together and slot the narrative into place. And god, were you grateful, because you couldn’t see yourself stringing sentences together to accuse none other than Iron Man himself of triggering waves of hurt just by stating what you’d convinced yourself was the truth. She was quick to reassure. You are loved, you are wanted, you are always welcome and will always be her child and what you need will always come first. The warm safety settled itself in your belly and you let the tiredness wash over you, drifting on a life raft of whispered Russian lullabies and Nat’s hand rubbing circles on your back. At peace.

Of course, you’d never tell Nat, but hearing her whisper-yell at Tony over the phone for being an insensitive dick was possibly one of the best moments of your life.

[bibbawrites]

Papa and Maggie’s Weekend - Single Dad!Charlie x Owen

THIS IS PART 11 OF THE SINGLE DAD!CHARLIE SERIES, YOU CAN FIND THE OTHER PARTS HERE

Request: none

Word Count: 5924 words!!!

Summary: Part 11 of Single Dad!Charlie, Charlie goes camping for the weekend and leaves Margaux in the care of Owen 

Warnings: referenced drug use, swearing

A/N: i’ve had this sitting around for so long that i actually have almost two more full parts done so i figured i’d get this one out there before they stack up any more haha, i know most of you don’t care about this series much any more but it’s my comfort series so i’m gonna keep writing it for me (and ella, this is our series @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ lol)  anyways, enjoy almost 6000! words of owen and margaux being the cutest little buddies and owen just trying his best 

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ @herbrutals​ @youngbloodblog​ @courageous-she​ @littlemissaddict​ @gloomybrieyxb​ @itsyagorlemmalyn @jatpxmultifan​ @moneybagmgk​ @emeliii1​ @mybradforddream​ @lovesanimals​ (the strike through means it wont let me tag you)

SATURDAY

“Be good, okay?” Charlie crouched in front of Margaux. She nodded sleepily, the early morning wakeup something she wasn’t used to. 

“When will you come back?” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes with a fist. Charlie swallowed, willing himself not to cancel the whole trip. They needed to do this, he had to get used to spending time away from her eventually. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow night. So you and Papa will spend all day today and then all day tomorrow together and then Daddy will be back in time for bed time tomorrow.” Charlie explained, his voice soft. 

“Why can’t I go too?” Margaux pouted. 

“Because it’s a big person trip.” Charlie sighed slightly. He knew this wasn’t going to end well.

“I’m a big person. I’m four!” Margaux protested. 

“You need to be a little bit bigger to come. But I promise we can go camping next week, okay? Just you and me.” Charlie promised, knowing there was nothing Margaux loved more than going camping with her dad. 

“Pinky promise?” She questioned, holding out her hand, and Charlie wrapped his pinky around hers. 

“I pinky promise.” He agreed, before catching sight of the time on his watch. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled. “I gotta go now baby, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m gonna miss you.” 

He pulled the four year old into a hug, biting his lip as she started crying. Maybe leaving when she was tired wasn’t a good idea after all...

“Don’t go.” She sniffled, and Charlie pulled back, kissing the top of her head gently. 

“I gotta.” He whispered. “I love you so much.” 

“Daddy, don’t go.” She cried, throwing herself back into his arms and Charlie felt his eyes prick with tears of his own. 

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He promised. “I love you.” 

“Love you Daddy, don’t go.” Owen stepped forward, reaching out and taking the crying four year old from Charlie’s arms. 

“Go.” He instructed, as Margaux screamed out, Charlie’s heart breaking with every cry of his name. He stood up, hesitating, and Owen gave him a small smile. 

“I’ve got her. Go have fun. We love you.” 

“I love you too.” Charlie replied, and with one last glance towards Margaux he turned and climbed into his car. 

And no one had to know if he cried all the way to the organised meeting spot. 

- 

Charlie’s car pulled away and Owen waved slightly, knowing that his boyfriend would be taking this separation just as hard as his daughter was. The blond boy sighed, carrying the still screaming four year old inside, humming softly as he walked in an attempt to soothe her, his mind drifting back to the first time Charlie had left him alone with Margaux on the first day he had met her.

- 

“Just watch her for a second, I need to pee.” Charlie said, standing up and placing the two year old down next to Owen, before walking away. Margaux watched him go, her face scrunching up as she began to cry. Owen’s eyes widened. What was he supposed to do now? He reached out, patting the top of Margaux’s head awkwardly. 

“Don’t cry.” He mumbled, in what he hoped was a comforting tone. Clearly it wasn’t, however, since Margaux’s cries got louder, causing people to start to stare. 

“Hey, Maggie. It’s okay. He’ll be back soon.” He tried, moving to pat her back. Still no use, and Owen began to panic. What were you meant to do with a crying kid? He bit his lip, still awkwardly patting her back. 

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Charlie heading back over to the table, and Owen breathed a sigh of relief as the older boy scooped up his daughter, holding her close to him and mumbling something in French. Margaux relaxed into his arms 

“I didn’t know how to make her stop.” Owen admitted, as Charlie sat back down, Margaux still wrapped up in his arms. The Canadian boy laughed. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll learn.” He replied. Owen gave him a small smile. 

He sure hoped so, for everyone’s sake. 

 -

As usual Charlie was right. Owen did learn, and now here he was, officially on his own for the weekend with Margaux having a complete meltdown in his arms.

He bounced her slightly, humming the tune  to Stand Tall, hoping the familiar tune would calm the four year old. 

“Daddy!” Margaux wailed, her face red with anguish. 

“Papa’s here.” Owen reminded her, swaying back and forth with her head tucked into his shoulder. 

“I want Daddy.” She protested. Owen bit his lip. 

“Daddy will be back tomorrow but for now, think about how much fun we’re gonna have together! We can paint each other’s nails and get pizza for dinner and watch all of your favourite movies. Or we could go out if you wanted to go somewhere? We could go swimming?” 

“Don’t wanna.” Margaux cried. 

“Okay.” Owen sighed, moving over to the couch and sitting down on it, shifting Margaux so that she was in his lap. Surely she’d tire herself out eventually, especially since it was barely 7am... maybe the best thing would be to just let her cry. 

 So that’s what Owen did, let the four year old cry as much as she needed, as he held her tight and hummed whatever songs he could think of, his fingers tangled through her curls.

-

Margaux cried non stop for the first hour until she fell asleep in Owen’s arms, exhausted from her tears. Owen sighed. He knew there were things to do but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Margaux’s side. 

So he stayed on the couch for almost four hours, Margaux curled into his chest, while he played video games on mute waiting for her to wake up. 

Eventually she did stir, just before lunch time, which Owen decided was the perfect distraction. 

“Good morning princess.” He whispered. “Are you hungry?” 

Margaux yawned before nodding. 

“I found a really cool place for us to go have lunch and some friends we can invite along to come play with us. How does that sound?” Owen suggested and Margaux just nodded again, staring at the TV blankly. Clearly it was going to be a bit harder to get her to talk than he’d thought. 

“Should we get dressed? You can even pick your own clothes!” Margaux didn’t reply, so Owen just stood up, the four year old still held safely in his arms, and made his way down the hallway to her bedroom. 

He kicked open the door, and placed Margaux onto the ground, before opening her wardrobe. 

“What do you wanna wear?” 

Margaux stepped forward and Owen internally cheered at the slight progress. The tiny blonde scanned through her clothes, eventually grabbing at a pair of overalls, before turning back and looking at Owen expectantly. 

“You wanna wear those ones?” He asked, and she nodded, before grabbing onto a Julie and the Phantoms shirt that Madi’s dad had made her. Owen smiled slightly, taking the two items of clothing out and quickly helping Margaux get dressed. 

“Now, what’s next?” Owen mused, hoping to get a reaction from Margaux. She didn’t answer, staring down at the ground as Owen grabbed her hairbrush and settled down with her standing between his legs as he sat on the end of her bed.  

“How do you want your hair?” Owen asked, running the brush through her curls. Margaux thought for a moment. 

“Bun.” She mumbled, and Owen grinned. 

“There’s that beautiful voice of yours. I missed it.” He teased, and Margaux smiled slightly. 

“Okay, let’s get this bun going.” He pulled her hair back, tying it somewhat messily in a bun. “How’s that?” 

“Good.” Margaux replied. 

“Yay!” Owen cheered and Margaux giggled, the sound warming Owen’s heart. 

“Do you wanna go watch Paw Patrol while I get dressed? Or you can stay here and play?” Owen suggested, and Margaux shook her head, clinging to his leg. 

“With you.” She mumbled and Owen sighed but took her with him nonetheless. 

Two steps forward, one step back. 

-

Almost an hour later Owen climbed out of an Uber, before unclipping Margaux from the safety seat, removing the safety seat from the car, and thanking their driver. 

“You ready to make some friends?” He questioned, looking towards the large building that housed an indoor play centre where they would be meeting a few members of the cast. 

“No.” Margaux replied and Owen laughed. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll like them.” He said. 

They entered the indoor play centre and Margaux’s eyes widened in excitement, taking in the various areas of the room, before settling on a high ropes course in the middle of the room. Of course Charlie’s kid would choose the most adventurous thing in the room to be excited for. 

“Owen!” A voice called, and Owen turned to find Cheyenne heading towards them, with his twins holding onto their father’s hands.

“Hey guys.” Owen greeted. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too. And little miss Margaux here, look at how much you’ve grown!” Cheyenne gasped playfully and Margaux grinned, Owen smiling at the switch in her behaviour. 

“Cause I’m four.” She boasted. Cheyenne smiled. 

“So are my little ones. This is Willow and Ethan.” He smiled, gesturing to each twin as he introduced them. “And this is Margaux.” 

“Hi!” Willow grinned and Margaux smiled slightly, leaning into Owen. 

“She hasn’t had very good experiences with kids her age.” Owen explained. “Plus we’ve had a bit of a rough morning.” 

“That’s okay. Why don’t we head back to the table we’re at. Kenny and Sacha are there and Tori and Jadah are coming soon. Kenny booked the whole place out for the day so there’s no rush and no other people.” Cheyenne said, and Owen nodded, following the older man through the entrance and over to a table where Kenny and Sacha were sitting. 

“Hey guys.” Owen smiled, once they arrived at the table. 

“Hey Owen. How are you?” Kenny questioned. 

“Not too bad. Hopefully will be better soon.” Owen replied with a small grin. 

“Daddy can we go play?” Ethan questioned, and Cheyenne nodded. 

“Why don’t you take Margaux with you.” He suggested and the twins both turned their attention to the blond, who turned to Owen, a worried look on her face. 

“You’ll be okay.” Owen promised her, moving to take her shoes off as she clung to him. “I’ll be right here the whole time.” 

“Okay.” She decided, and Owen placed her on the ground, watching as she hesitantly took a hand of each of the twins and allowed them to drag her towards the biggest playground. 

“How was this morning?” Kenny questioned as Owen flopped down into an empty chair. Owen sighed, watching Margaux climb the stairs of the playground, any hesitation already gone.  

“Not good. She was okay until Charlie said he had to go and then she had a complete meltdown. He was about 30 seconds away from cancelling his trip, you could see it in his face. So I grabbed her and made him leave, and then she cried for literally an hour until she fell asleep again.” He said, and Kenny smiled sympathetically. 

“How long is Charlie gone for?” Sacha asked. 

“He comes back tomorrow evening.” Owen bit his lip. “I’m worried about how she’ll go tonight when she realises he isn’t there to put her to bed.” 

“You’ve got this.” Kenny assured him. “We’ve all seen you do it before and you do this all the time with Charlie around.”

“I hope so.” Owen replied. “I’m kinda hoping she’ll exhaust herself here and just pass out tonight.” 

The group laughed. 

“That’s pretty likely.” Cheyenne agreed. “I’m hoping for the same thing.” 

The door chimed again, signifying another arrival, and both Kenny and Sacha stood up to go greet the newest guest. Cheyenne gave Owen a small smile. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, you said Margaux hadn’t had very good experiences with kids her age. What happened?” He questioned. 

“Charlie had something to do, I think it was some beach cleaning thing, so he enrolled her into a childcare program. She lasted a few hours before she got into disagreements with the other kids about her not having a mum, and the bitch teacher backed them up saying she had to have a mum. So next minute Charlie’s being called in to discuss Margaux’s “issues with authority figures”, and she never went back.” Owen explained, and Cheyenne frowned. 

“That’s horrible.” He said. “I’m glad she didn’t go back.” 

“Me too.” Owen agreed. Cheyenne gave him a reassuring smile.

“At least we know with my kids they won’t worry about her not having a mum.” He joked and Owen smiled, instinctively glancing towards the playground, where Margaux and the twins had decided to attempt to climb up the large slides the wrong way, the three of them giggling loudly as they slipped back down. 

“She reminds me so much of Charlie.” Cheyenne commented, following Owen’s gaze. “They have the same adventurous spirit and cheeky personality.” 

“She’s his clone.” Owen laughed. “Everything except the hair.” 

“Personally I think her hair makes her look like your daughter.” Cheyenne said, and Owen’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Really?” His tone was filled with disbelief. He’d never considered that before. 

“Definitely. If people didn’t know they’d assume she was yours biologically.” Cheyenne nodded. Owen smiled slightly. 

“That means a lot to me.” 

“Anytime.” Cheyenne smiled, as they were rejoined by Kenny and Sacha, who were now accompanied by Tori and Jadah. 

“Now,” Kenny started, as everyone sat down around the table. “Should we order some food?” 

- 

So maybe not all kids her age were horrible, Margaux decided as she sat at the top of one of the large towers in the playground. The twins seemed nice enough and her Papa promised her that he would be there, and she knew he wouldn’t let anyone be mean to her, ever. 

“Do you have a brother or a sister?” Willow questioned, plopping down next to her. Margaux shook her head. 

“No.” She said. “Just me and Daddy and sometimes Papa. But he lives in Oklahoma most times.” 

“You don’t have a mummy too?” Ethan asked, joining them. Margaux shook her head again. 

“Do you have a mummy?” She glanced between the twins, who also shook their heads. 

“We have Dad and Daddy.” Willow told her. Margaux grinned. There was no way they’d be mean to her about not having a mum if they didn’t have one either. 

“Do you like Paw Patrol?” She asked, and the twins nodded quickly. 

“Yeah! I like Skye.” Willow answered. 

“I like Marshall.” Ethan added. 

“I like Everest cause she likes snow and I like snow too.” Margaux explained. 

“Can we go on the slides again?” Ethan questioned, and the girls exchanged a look before nodding. 

“You go first.” Margaux instructed, and together the three made their way through the tunnels, back to the slides. 

Yeah, Margaux thought as she followed the twins, maybe all kids weren’t mean. 

- 

After several hours of running around, the three four year olds were clearly exhausted so the group decided to call it a day. 

“Do you need a lift?” Cheyenne asked. Owen nodded, glancing down at Margaux, who was hugged tightly between Willow and Ethan. He couldn’t wait to tell Charlie that she finally had some friends her own age. 

“That would be great, thanks.” Owen smiled, which Cheyenne quickly returned. 

With a few last goodbyes to the rest of the group and promises to meet up again soon, Owen, Cheyenne and the kids left, Cheyenne leading the way while Owen brought up the rear to make sure the kids didn’t wander. 

And before he knew it Cheyenne was pulling up in front of Charlie’s place and Owen was unclipping Margaux’s seat as she clung to the twins, begging to see them again soon. It was only after Cheyenne and Owen promised they’d organise something that she let Owen lift her out of the car and the two of them stood and waved goodbye to the car as they drove away. 

“Come on Maggie, lets go inside and decide what we want for dinner.” Owen said and Margaux’s eyes lit up. 

“Pizza?” She asked. Owen chuckled. 

“Sounds good to me.” He agreed, unlocking the door and letting her in, placing the car seat near the door in case they needed it again. 

“Can we watch movies?” Margaux questioned, squirming in Owen’s arms until he placed her down on the ground. 

“We sure can.” He smiled. “Whatever movies you want.” 

“Nemo?” Margaux suggested as Owen flicked the TV on, going to Disney Plus and finding the movie in response to her request. 

And once the movie was playing Owen settled down onto the couch with her, and was determined he wouldn’t move unless he absolutely had to. 

- 

Eventually it was time for the moment Owen had been dreading. Bedtime. 

“Okay princess, it’s time to go to sleep.” He said, as the credits rolled on Frozen 2. 

“Daddy said he would come back for bedtime.” Margaux frowned.

“Bedtime tomorrow, remember?” Owen reminded her softly. 

“Oh.” She pouted, tears threatening to fall. Owen’s eyes widened, trying to think fast. 

“I know!” He exclaimed, and Margaux looked at him curiously. “We should have a sleepover. We can get your toys and sleep in Daddy’s bed and maybe even watch TV until we fall asleep.” 

Margaux grinned widely. 

“Yeah!” She squealed. “I wanna do it!” 

“Okay, well we’ll have to go get your friends from your room.” He said and Margaux grabbed onto his hand. 

“Hurry.” She giggled, tugging him down the hall to her bedroom. He flicked the light on as they entered, and Margaux jumped onto her bed, eyeing the large pile of Squishmallows stacked at the end of the bed. Madi had bought her one and ever since then she had been addicted to the stuffed toys. 

“Okay, who are we bringing?” Owen questioned, sitting down on the edge of the bed, already grabbing the toy penguin that Margaux never slept without. The four year old frowned at the pile before reaching towards an orange octopus, depositing it in Owen’s lap. She scanned the pile again, grabbing a small brown and white cow, a grey dragon, a green dinosaur and a large purple and blue cat that was almost as big as she is. 

“That’s all.” She decided. Owen nodded, grabbing the toys in his arms. 

“Anything else we need?” He asked, and Margaux grabbed her blanket. 

“Done.” She decided. Owen grinned, standing up. 

“Lead the way Miss Maggie.” He instructed, and Margaux giggled, rushing out of the room and across the hallway into Charlie’s room, leaving Owen to follow her after struggling with the light switch. Eventually he got it off and entered Charlie’s room, dropping the toys onto the bed for Margaux to sort out. 

“Do you want to watch one of those house hunting shows?” Owen asked, flicking the TV on. Margaux hummed in response, too busy figuring out the placement of her Squishmallows to pay full attention to him. 

“What’s it ‘bout?” Margaux mumbled, settling into the middle of the bed. Owen pulled off his shirt before climbing in next to her, smiling when the four year old latched herself onto him in the same way she did to her father.

“It’s about people who are looking for a new house.” Owen explained.

Margaux thought for a moment before nodding.

“Okay we can watch it Papa.” She agreed, so Owen changed the channel to the lifestyle channel. 

Hopefully the show would put the four year old to sleep.

-

It did not put her to sleep.

It was well past midnight and somehow Margaux was still awake, happily watching a couple decide between an apartment close to their ideal location, or a large house a little further out.

Owen yawned, glancing towards the time.

“Maggie, aren’t you tired darling?” He questioned, and Margaux shook her head.

“I’m awake! My Squishmallows wanna know if they buy the little house.” She informed him. “I want the big, big one.”

If Owen wasn’t half asleep he would have laughed at how invested Margaux was, but he was struggling to keep his eyes open and her not being asleep was not something he found funny in that moment. 

“After this we’re gonna turn it off and go to sleep, okay?” He told her, and Margaux frowned, shaking her head. 

“I wanna watch more.” She replied, and Owen groaned. 

“We gotta go to sleep, otherwise we won’t be able to wake up for Daddy coming home tomorrow.” He said, and Margaux pouted. 

“I wanna watch it more. You said I could watch it ‘til I sleeped, and I’m not sleeping yet.” She reminded him, and Owen cursed his past self for using those words, and cursed Charlie for raising such a smart kid. 

“But I’m falling asleep.” He whined. 

“You sleep then.” She answered, and Owen sighed. Time to put his “parent voice” on. 

“Margaux, we’re turning it off after this episode, and we’re going to sleep.” He said firmly and Margaux glared at him. 

“No.” She retorted and Owen tensed up. Now what was he meant to do? Margaux was rarely in trouble so he didn’t really have experience in how to discipline her if she acted out. 

“Margaux Ivy.” He warned. “Do you want to go back to your own bed?” 

Margaux shook her head. 

“Then after this episode finishes the TV goes off and we’re going to sleep. And if you go to sleep straight away maybe we can go get breakfast somewhere in the morning. How does that sound?” He tried, hoping the promise of a nice breakfast would make her back down. 

“Don’t wanna.” She mumbled. “Want Daddy. You’re a meanie.” 

Owen stared at her, his heart shattering at those three little words. 

“You don’t mean that, you’re just overtired.” He said, his voice sounding small, not quite sure who he was trying to convince. Margaux crossed her arms. 

“Yes I do. You’re a big meanie and a bossy pants and I don’t like you now.” She replied firmly.

“Maggie...” He trailed off, not knowing what to do. 

She ignored him, turning her attention back to the TV where the couple were about to sit down to decide between the three houses. 

Owen bit his lip, reaching for his phone to text Charlie, even though he knew the chances of Charlie replying were probably slim. He was probably out of cell range, or already asleep, or both. 

Messages between OPJ and Char

OPJ one day without you and she hates me

Charlie’s reply was almost instant. 

Char  she could never hate you O, i promise

Owen sighed, glancing at Margaux who had tucked herself into a ball with her chosen Squishmallows surrounding her, and was mumbling something under her breath in French. 

OPJ  she said, and i quote, that i’m a “big meanie and a bossy pants and she doesn’t like me now” so yeah, pretty sure she hates me

Char what happened?

OPJ she got sad at bedtime so i promised her we could watch tv until we fell asleep and now its 1 in the fucking morning and she’s still awake watching house hunters and i told her its time for it to be turned off, like the asshole i am, and she said no so i used my parent voice on her and now she hates me and she’s still fucking watching tv and i don’t know what to do

Owen had barely pressed send when his phone began to ring, Charlie’s photo appearing on his screen. 

“Hey.” He answered sadly. 

“Give the phone to Margaux.” Charlie’s voice came through the phone and Owen didn’t respond, holding the phone out to the four year old. 

“It’s for you.” He said, and she glared at him, but took the phone nonetheless, face lighting up when she heard her father’s voice. 

Owen flopped backwards onto the bed, relaxing instantly as Charlie’s scent engulfed his senses. He zoned out, just focusing on breathing, until he was jolted back to reality by Margaux poking his cheek. 

“Daddy wants to talk to you.” She informed him, and he took the phone, pressing it back to his ear. 

“Yeah?” 

“She’s gonna go to sleep now.” Charlie said, and Owen breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you.” He whispered. “I’m sorry I disrupted your night and bothered you when you’re trying to have time off.”

“You didn’t.” Charlie assured him. 

“I couldn’t even get her to go to sleep.” Owen mumbled, glancing at Margaux, who was already fast asleep, just proving how tired she had actually been. “I’m a failure.” 

“You are most definitely not.” Charlie replied firmly. “You’ve made it all the way til now with no issues, even after the complete meltdown she had this morning. Parenting isn’t always easy Owen, even I struggle with overtired Margaux.” 

Owen sighed, reaching for the TV remote and turning the TV off, engulfing the room in darkness. 

“Fuck, can you just promise me you believe me? I’m too high right now to figure out a better argument.” Charlie whined and Owen giggled, only just noticing how out of it Charlie actually sounded. 

“Kid free time is going well then?” He teased, thankful for the lighter topic. 

“I haven’t been this high since she was born, it’s nice to be able to smoke without worrying about her waking up or not being sober by the time she gets up the next morning.” Charlie replied, and for a moment Owen felt an overwhelming sadness for the 18 year old Charlie who had been forced to grow up so quickly, with no chance to be an actual kid himself. 

“I miss you.” Owen admitted. “It’s hard being here with her without you.” 

“You’re halfway there babe, just keep going.” Charlie reminded him and Owen blushed slightly at the pet name. 

“I will. Thank you again, for getting her to sleep.” Owen replied. Charlie hummed in response. 

“Any time. How was the rest of your day?” He questioned. 

“After you left she cried for a bit, and then slept until lunch time. And then we went to this indoor play centre thing with Cheyenne and his twins, and Kenny, Sacha, Jadah and Tori, and Mags loved the twins.” Owen recounted. 

“She did?” Charlie cut in, and Owen could hear the smile on his face. 

“She did.” Owen grinned. “She begged me to see them again soon, so you’ll have to organise something with Cheyenne. Then we just had pizza and watched some movies before we went to bed.”

“Sounds like you had a great day.” Charlie replied. Owen opened his mouth to respond, but instead yawned, eyes drifting shut for a second. 

“Go to sleep babe.” Charlie’s voice was gentle and Owen nodded, before realising his boyfriend couldn’t see him. 

“Okay.” He answered. “Night Char, I love you.” 

“I love you too Owen. See you tomorrow afternoon.” Charlie replied, before hanging up. Owen let his phone fall to the pillow, too tired to even plug it in to charge. 

And with Margaux’s steady breathing in his ear, he finally drifted off to sleep. 

- 

SUNDAY

Owen woke the next morning to Margaux attempting to braid his hair, Bluey playing quietly on Charlie’s iPad. 

“You awake Papa?” Margaux questioned. Owen hummed in response. 

“Yep.” He replied, voice deep with sleep. “You doing my hair?” 

“Yeah.” Margaux responded simply. After a moment she spoke up again. 

“Are you still mad with me?”

Owen sat up, reaching out to the tiny blonde. She wriggled closer, settling into his arms. 

“Oh darling no, I could never be mad at you.” He told her. Margaux thought for a moment before looking back up at him. 

“Do you still love me?” She asked, her voice small. Owen’s heart shattered. 

“Of course I still love you. You’re my little girl, I will always love you. Just like how your Daddy will always love you no matter what.” He assured her. 

“But I was mean to you.” Margaux frowned. “And Daddy said that’s naughty.”

“It is naughty, but I forgive you. Because I know you were just very tired.” He told her. She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry Papa.” She said quietly. Owen pressed a kiss to her head, playing with her curls like he knew Charlie did, hoping the familiar gesture would reassure her.  

“I know honey, it’s okay, I promise.” He whispered. 

“Love you.” Margaux mumbled, pressing her face into his neck. Owen smiled, wrapping his arms around her tightly and squeezing. 

“I love you too.” He replied. “Now how about we get dressed and go out for breakfast?” 

“Yeah!” Margaux grinned, perking up instantly at the mention of food. Owen laughed. 

“Okay then, let’s do it.” 

- 

Just over an hour later the two of them were curled into a tiny booth in the back corner of a café, the table chosen especially to try to remain unnoticed by any fans that may have been around. Owen loved the fans but sometimes they could be a little much, and having Margaux with him made him hyperaware of how necessary it was to remain anonymous. He had no idea how Charlie did this. 

Owen glanced around the room, picking at his eggs. There didn’t seem to be anyone around who might recognise them, but there was never a guarantee that they wouldn’t be noticed.  

“Can I have some of your one Papa?” Margaux questioned, catching Owen’s attention. 

Owen’s head snapped back, his attention now solely on the four year old in front of him. 

“Which one darling?” He asked. 

“That one.” She pointed to the cooked tomato that he had pushed off to the side of his plate. Owen nodded, placing it on her plate and shaking his head when she dipped it into the leftover maple syrup. Charlie really was raising his clone. 

“Are you full?” Margaux questioned after scoffing down the tomato, eyeing his eggs. Owen chuckled, scooping the eggs onto her plate too. 

“Hungry this morning huh?” He teased. Margaux grinned at him, her mouth full of his eggs. 

“Patrick says it’s cause I’m a growing girl.” She informed him. 

“I think Patrick is right. You were only tiny when I first met you and now you’re huge!” He emphasised the last word and Margaux laughed loudly. 

“You’re silly Papa.” She said between laughs. Owen grinned. 

“Excuse me?” A voice came and Owen’s heart stopped for a moment, looking up to find an elderly woman smiling at him. 

“Yes?” He answered politely. She didn’t look like the type to watch the show, but you could never be sure. 

“Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to compliment you on how well behaved your daughter is.” She smiled and Owen couldn’t help the light blush that covered his cheeks. 

His daughter. 

“Thank you.” He replied and the woman nodded, smiling at Margaux, before wandering away. 

Owen took a deep breath, collecting himself, before tuning his attention back to Margaux. 

“You ready to go kiddo?” He questioned. Margaux nodded, so Owen stood up, taking her hand and leaving the cafe, thanking the waitresses as they left. 

“So what do you wanna do today?” Owen asked as they began the short walk back to Charlie’s place. Margaux pulled a face as she thought. 

“Can we watch some more House Hunters?” She questioned, making Owen laugh. 

“Of course we can.” He agreed. 

- 

It was just after 2pm when Margaux shifted in his arms, where she had settled down to watch House Hunters hours ago. 

“Papa? I’m hungry.” She mumbled. Owen played with one of her pigtails. 

“What would you like to eat?” He asked. 

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, as Owen’s phone vibrated in his pocket. 

“Why don’t you have a little think then.” Owen suggested, pulling out his phone and smiling when he saw Charlie’s name on his screen. He answered quickly. 

“Hey!” He greeted. 

“Hey babe. I’m just leaving now, will be home in maybe an hour?” Charlie’s voice came through the phone. 

“That’s great, we can’t wait to see you. We were just talking about getting some lunch, would you wanna pick something up on the way home?” Owen asked. Charlie laughed. 

“I can do that. Anything in particular?” He questioned. Owen turned his attention back to the blonde in his arms. 

“You decided on what you wanna eat yet Maggie?” He asked. She shook her head. 

“No.” She replied simply. Owen chuckled. 

“Want Daddy to pick something? He’s coming home now and he’s gonna get lunch for us on the way.” He suggested. Margaux lit up at the suggestion. Or maybe the idea that her Dad was on his way home. Probably both. 

“Yes please.” She grinned. 

“Hey Char? Your pick. Just not pizza cause we had that last night.” Owen informed the older boy. 

“Okay cool, I’ll see you guys in like, 30 minutes then.” Charlie answered, and Owen could hear his car starting in the background. 

“See you then.” Owen smiled. He really had missed Charlie, and he knew Margaux had missed her father just as much, if not more. 

“Love you.” Charlie’s voice came, breaking Owen out of his thoughts. 

“Love you too.” Owen replied, before hanging up and turning to Margaux. “Okay Maggie, what house are they picking?” 

The four year old paused, thinking. 

“The blue one.” She decided. 

“With the pool?” Owen checked, and she nodded. 

“Yeah that one.” She said. He looked up at the TV, just in time to see the house again. 

“Cause it’s got a pool?” He questioned. Margaux nodded, settling back into his arms again. 

“And it’s blue.” She giggled. “Blue house and blue pool. That’s the best one.” 

“You know what? I think you might be right.” Owen laughed, and the two of them turned their attention back to the TV to find out which house the couple chose. 

-

Just under half an hour later Charlie arrived home, unlocking the front door and entering the quiet house, his arms full of Chinese takeout. 

He could hear muffled giggles coming from his bedroom, so he dropped his bags and headed down the hallway, entering his room to find Owen and Margaux curled up in a pile of Squishmallows, the lifestyle channel playing loudly on the TV. 

“Daddy!” Margaux exclaimed, jumping up and throwing herself at him. He stumbled, but caught her, handing the food off to Owen so that he could properly hug his daughter. 

“Hey baby.” He greeted, squeezing her tightly as she clung to him like a baby koala. 

“I missed you.” She whined. “Don’t go away again.” 

“I’ll try not to.” He laughed. “Did you have fun with Papa?” 

She launched into a complete recount of her weekend as Charlie placed her back down onto the bed and plopped down next to Owen, snuggling close to the blond in greeting. 

“You survived.” Charlie grinned, placing a kiss to Owen’s shoulder. Owen chuckled. 

“Barely.” He replied, scooping fried rice onto one of the paper plates that the restaurant had provided. Charlie shook his head.

“But you survived. That’s all that matters.” He said, and Owen glanced at Margaux before nodding. 

“Yeah it is.” He agreed. 

And as Charlie settled back into Dad life, he couldn’t help but wish that this was how life could be every day. 

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 34

A/N: Soooo this is the penultimate chapter.  This feels very bittersweet to post because we all know how the series turned out.  Anyway, other stuff happens to, but the series...🥺

August 8th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was thinking about last night.  Again.

And she shouldn’t be.  She was having breakfast with the team for God’s sake.  Everyone was eating pancakes or waffles or avocado toast and she was fantasizing about William fucking her raw from behind and watching him through the mirror.  She could swear she still felt his slick and hard cock inside of her.  She could swear she still felt him pounding her from behind and grabbing on to her mouth to silence her and—

“Aberdeen.”

—her whimpering and trying to be quiet and the same time—

“Aberdeen.”

—and his low, guttural grunts as he fucked her and made her be quiet and—

“Aberdeen!”

She snapped out of it.  She looked to her right to see Jason looking at her like she was crazy.  “Your phone is ringing,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world – because it was.  The thing was blaring out for God knows how long and she was just sitting there.

She grabbed it, not bothering to look at the number, and brought it to her ear.  “Hello?”

“So what did the boys get up to last night?”  Alec Young’s voice asked from the other end.  

That brought her back down to earth.  She got up out of her seat and made her way towards the doorway, where it would be much quieter.  “What did they get up to?” she feigned ignorance.

“You can’t tell me that after a win like that all they did was go to bed,” he said in a tone of voice that made Aberdeen want to punch him through the phone.  She couldn’t believe he was the one responsible for editing her piece, that it was him who was a deciding factor on whether or not she got a job with the magazine.  “Did they sneak girls into the hotel?  Prostitutes?  Did they get one for Matthews for scoring the overtime winner?”

Aberdeen sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.  William Nylander fucked the president’s assistant.  They’ve been carrying on a secret affair for the better part of a year now and nobody has a fucking clue.  They were so desperate for each other that they broke every bubble guideline so he could fuck her raw in her bathroom as she bent over the marble vanity.  How’s that for a scoop?  “With all due respect, Alec…”

“Aberdeen, come on.”

“I’m trying to take the more balanced approach, the more human side, the—”

“There’s gotta be something!”

She sighed again.  She knew he was more or less her editor and all, and her job depended on him, but she was on her last nerve.  “You want something?  Okay, here’s something.  Two days ago Courtney Muzzin and her daughter Luna stood outside of the Royal York Hotel with a giant sign on Bristol board that said ‘We love you, Dada’ and aimed it directly at Jake’s window,” she said, the edge very evident in her voice.  “I can’t lie, Alec.  I can’t just make up stories about drugs and prostitutes and whatever else you think is going on here.  They can fucking sue me.”

“Aberdeen, we need a story.  If you don’t give us the story, you’re not working at Toronto Life.  That’s it,” he said, hanging up.  

Aberdeen felt her chest tighten.  She couldn’t do it.  She couldn’t go back on her morals.  She couldn’t just…betray her friends.  Her family.  Her work family, but her family nonetheless.  She had to stay resolute.  She was going to get this job, and she was going to get it whether Alec approved of her story or not.  She was going to get it whether Alec wanted her there or not.  She was going to get it whether he liked her writing or not.  She was going to prove him wrong.  She was going to do it on her own terms, with her own talent.  She was going to bank on herself.

When she got back to her seat, Jason was still eating his breakfast.  She picked up her fork and ate a piece of watermelon before moving on to her yogurt parfait.  “Who was that?” he asked.

She shook her head slightly, signaling that she didn’t want to talk about it.  But when Jason continued looking at her, she knew he wasn’t going to let it pass.  “The guy that’s responsible for editing that article I’m submitting to Toronto Life,” she said.

“What did he want?” Jason asked.

She sighed.  “He wants a story filled with booze and drugs and women, because he’s convinced so many of you are still like that,” she began.  “He thought we would have ordered a stripper or something for Auston last night for scoring his overtime goal.  He doesn’t think Courtney and Luna Muzzin standing outside with a sign about loving daddy is going to sell magazines.”

Jason nodded his head in understanding.  He’d been around hockey for such a long time – he understood completely where Alec got his mentality from.  “And you refuse to write that.”

“It’s not just that I refuse to write it.  I can’t write it.  None of it would be true.  Imagine me writing about you guys with hookers and blow?  I’d get sued!”

Jason chuckled.  “And he doesn’t get that?  How’s this guy an editor for a prominent city magazine?”

“Beats the shit out of me,” Aberdeen shrugged, fiddling around with her spoon.  “But…that’s my issue.  I’ll figure it out.  I’ll write something that will blow his mind and make him wonder why he ever thought he wanted me to write about hookers and blow in the first place.”

Jason smiled.  “Atta girl.”

Jason continued to eat as Aberdeen continued to fiddle with her spoon.  She looked across the room briefly to see William chowing down on some avocado and a piece of toast.  He was scrolling through his phone and, periodically, would look at something Pierre would show him one-third of space away at the table.  Less than ten hours ago his body was pressed up against hers.  Now they were separated by a sea of tables and hockey players.  

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked Jason suddenly.

“Anything,” he didn’t even look at her when he answered.

She hesitated for a second.  “If…I mean…if things don’t go the way we want them to go tomorrow…” she began.

“You mean if we lose,” he interrupted, finally staring her dead in the eye.  “You can say the words Aberdeen.  It’s okay.”

“If we lose tomorrow…I…what should I do?  Like, how should I act?  What should I say?  I don’t want to make you guys even more upset by saying the wrong thing.”

“I doubt you can make anyone on this team upset—”

“Jason.”

He sighed.  He set down his flatware and brought his hands together.  “I think being there physically is good,” he began.  “Like, just being a presence.  Telling the guys you’re there if they want to talk.  Don’t bring it up unless we do.  Some guys are more open.  Others bottle it inside and never want to talk about it.  You have to figure out who’s who in that sense.”

“I just want to be a good…support.  I don’t want to be that person that seems apathetic because I don’t care about hockey as much as you guys.  I know how important this is for all of you.  I know how hard you guys are working to get it done.  I just want to make sure everybody, like…knows that, you know?”

“They know, Aberdeen,” Jason said confidently.  “And I’m not just saying that.  Trust me.  They know.”

***

“How many words do you have now?” William asked through the FaceTime call.  They were lying in bed together.  Virtually.  As always, he was less than 50 feet away in his own bed.  Aberdeen felt cold without his touch, now that she had felt it in the bubble.  It took every ounce of strength and willpower within her not to sneak into his room and beg him to fuck her again.

“I’m at five thousand right now,” she answered.  “I got a call from Alec today.  He’s such a dick.”

“It sucks that you’ll have to work under him.  I mean, if he’s even your editor at the magazine.  He might work in a different department or whatever.”

Aberdeen shuddered at the thought.  Him becoming her boss would be a nightmare.  Beth Zadakis – who Aberdeen originally met with – would be the much better choice in her eyes.  “Here’s hoping he is in another department,” she bit her lip.  “But enough about me, Willy.  How are you feeling about tomorrow?”

“I don’t know…” he said, giving his own shrug.  “I’m not nervous or anything.  I just…I know what I need to do.  I know what we need to do.  We just gotta do it.”

“D’you remember what I told you before we got in here?  That I’ll love you whatever happens?” she asked.  William nodded his head.  “That still stands.  Whatever happens tomorrow, I love you.”

William nodded his head gingerly.  “If we lose…” he began softly, “it’s gotta be, like, a media blackout for at least a week.  Until they make us do those exit interviews or whatever.”

“Deal,” Aberdeen nodded.

“It’s gonna be bad if we lose, Aberdeen,” he warned her.  “You’ve never experienced it before because you don’t watch or whatever, but they’ll be saying a whole bunch of shit—”

“—I won’t listen to any of it—”

“—No, Aberdeen, listen,” he cautioned, his tone of voice more serious.  “They’ll be saying a whole bunch of shit about me.  I didn’t produce, I didn’t perform, I should get traded, blah blah blah.  Same shit, different day.  I’m always the scapegoat.  I just…I know how emotional you got when you read up on everything near my birthday.  I just don’t want you getting upset.  I’ll never forgive them anyways, like in general, but I’ll really never forgive them if they make you cry again.”

“I won’t, Willy.  I don’t – you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I just want to protect you, minskatt.”

“I know you do,” she smiled softly.  “But none of that matters.  All that matters is that I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***

August 9th, 2020

In the end, it wasn’t shitty play.  It wasn’t a patented Leafs Meltdown™.  It wasn’t that they weren’t trying.  It wasn’t even anything bad.

It was just a hot goalie.

That was the most Aberdeen could have asked for, she guessed.  She didn’t really know, because at this point, she was devoid of emotion.  Everything in her was just…empty.  She couldn’t feel a thing.  That was, until, the camera showed a close up of the bench, and she saw Jason hunched over, his head down.  

That was when the tears started.  She couldn’t care less about Kasperi beside him.  It was Jason that she cared about.  Here he was, near the end of his career, signed with his hometown team for league minimum trying to chase his dream of winning a Stanley Cup with the team he grew up watching.  And now, in this wonky season of benched home openers and valued leadership to a stopped and re-started season due to a global pandemic, everything around him came crashing down.  Having to leave his family, his wife, his four daughters, all to chase the dream, all for it to disappear.

“Stop crying,” Brendan said from beside her.  She couldn’t discern his voice.  He wasn’t giving a command.  He wasn’t mad.  He wasn’t angry.  But it was obvious that he wasn’t happy.  He barely blinked as he looked down at the ice, hands shoved in his pockets.

Aberdeen wiped her tears quickly with the back of her hand.  “Sorry,” she said meekly, knowing she was offering absolutely nothing.  

When the buzzer rang and the teams lined up to shake hands, she made her way out of the box, waiting for Brendan and Kyle to follow.  But they didn’t.  She waited and waited and waited but they weren’t coming.  She peeked back into the room and watched as they stood still, looking down at the ice until the last of the team made their way through the tunnel.  Aberdeen realized then that they were staying because the camera was on them.  Of course it was.  The media was going to squeeze every emotion out of the boys until they were shells of themselves.  She bet two of them were being forced into media interviews right now, barely out of their hockey gear.

When they finally made their way down to the locker room, it was eerily quiet.  That’s the first thing Aberdeen noticed – the lack of noise.  It was so different from just two nights ago when they were all screaming and hugging her.  When she walked in behind Brendan and Kyle, and finally saw their faces, she immediately looked for William’s.  He looked so defeated.  So broken.  For a guy who was very apathetic in front of the camera, making it looked like nothing phased him, he was definitely showing his emotion now.  Her breath hitched in her throat as more tears threatened to spill.  After William, she looked for Jason – then she really had to stop the sob.  

She didn’t know if Sheldon had already given his post-game speech.  She was almost sure he did, because Kyle and Brendan took so long, and because she absolutely knew he wouldn’t end the night with what he ended up saying, the only thing she heard him say.  “Pack your bags tonight.  We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

They’d been through a hell of a season.  A wonky start.  A shitty coach.  A coaching change.  A loss to their own Zamboni driver.  A fucking worldwide pandemic.  A bubble.  The media was never on their side.  And—

“Go to the media room, see how the conversations are going,” Brendan said, his voice low.  “Send Morgan and John out as soon as possible, then make sure the media know about their future availability.  We have to speak to the team.”

She furrowed her brows at him.  Why would he banish her from the locker room so he could talk to the team?  “What are you gonna say?”

“What’s it to you?”

He heart froze.  So he was angry.  And he was taking it out on her.  “Fine,” she huffed.  “I thought we were a team, but I guess not.”

***

Nobody ate when they got back to the hotel.  There was no point.  Everybody just disappeared back into their rooms, probably to pack, probably to wallow in their own self-pity for the night until they had to leave tomorrow and face the world, probably to just lie in bed and stare at the ceiling for hours.  Aberdeen knew that’s what she would be doing.

Well, after she got to the bottom of one thing.

“What did Brendan and Kyle say to you guys?” she asked William on the phone.

“I can’t tell you.”

She furrowed her brows – not like he could see her.  “What?  You can’t tell me?”

“I can’t tell you,” he repeated.  “It stays between us.  In the locker room.”

“I…you’re being serious.”

“Of course I am.  It’s…I can’t tell you.”

Aberdeen knew she wasn’t going to get it out of him.  She’d have to give up.  Not that she wanted to.  “Well, I love you.  I’ll always love you,” she said instead, changing the subject.  “I’m sorry things didn’t go the way we all wanted them to.”

“I am too.  This fucking sucks.”

Suddenly, there was a knock at her door.  She rose up immediately from her bed.  “Please tell me that’s not you,” she said.  “We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

“What’s not me?” William asked, confused.

Aberdeen stopped.  She took her phone off her ear.  “Who is it?” she asked out loud.

“It’s me,” she heard Brendan’s voice from the hallway.

She threw her phone dramatically across the room and onto her bed.  She threw it so violently it almost hit the wall.  “Let me get my mask!” she called out, grabbing one from the dresser before hooking it onto her ears.  She took a deep breath before she opened the door.  When she did, Brendan walked straight into her room.  She was shocked.  “You’re coming into my hotel room?”

“Oh fuck it, we’re leaving tomorrow morning,” he mumbled, waving off her concern.  The door shut behind her as she walked into her own room gingerly, watching Brendan pace back and forth.  He stopped when he noticed her.  “I want to apologize for what I said to you today after the game,” he said.  “It was out of line.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“There are just some things that need to be said to the team only Aberdeen.  Meaning the players.  You’re part of the team but it’s—it’s—”

“Don’t worry.  I get it.”

Brendan stopped, taking a deep breath to steady himself.  “For my entire life I’ve wanted this team to be successful.  My entire life.  I was born two years after their last Stanley Cup win.  And growing up, I adored this team.  And when I was a player – it didn’t matter that I was a Red Wing.  I love them, too, but in a different way.  Not the way I love the Toronto Maple Leafs.  And when I was given the opportunity to be the president, I made sure I would never take it for granted.  And I made sure – I made a promise to myself – that I would be the one to see this team to victory.  And every time that we don’t get to that victory, I break that promise,” he said.  Aberdeen understood completely.  “None of…this is about you, of course.  This is about the team.  This is about promises that we make to each other.  Promises that we make to ourselves.  Promises we make to get better, to succeed, to climb that mountain and get to the promised land.  This is about the integrity of our character.  The pride we have in this hockey club, to put on that Maple Leaf every night.”

Aberdeen stayed silent.  Brendan was bearing his soul to her.  Every word he was saying was impassioned and coming directly from his heart.  She didn’t want to speak, because there was nothing she could say.  She watched as he took a few steps forward and put his hands on her shoulders.  “You’re part of this team, Aberdeen.  I think you always will be to these boys.  You were the soul of this team this year.”

She shook her head.  “I don’t believe that.”

“I do,” he said confidently.  “I know so.”

“How do you know?”

“Because their soul is hurt right now, but it hasn’t died,” he said.  “It’s still there.  They still have it in them.  Just like you have it in you.”

***

August 10th, 2020

Aberdeen stood absent-mindedly off to the side, the bus being loaded with the team’s bags.  Some of the boys had already gotten on the bus.  She should have gotten on too, but her feet were planted firmly in place for some reason.  

Fifteen days in the bubble.  And now it was all over.

“Hey Aberdeen?” she heard Auston’s voice from behind her.  She spun around to face him.  “I’m sorry we couldn’t do it for you.  Like, for your story.”

***

Kasha came to pick up Aberdeen.  She brought Minerva in her carrier, who kept meowing at the sight of Aberdeen.  Aberdeen took her out and cuddled her against her chest, giving her tons of kisses.  

She watched Tyson do the same to Ralph, wondering if he’d still be on the team next year.

***

When she and Kasha got back into her apartment, Aberdeen went straight to her bed.  She plopped down dramatically and only moved when she felt Kasha standing in the doorway.  “D’you want to go out?  You finally have some freedom,” Kasha suggested.  “We can go for tacos, for brunch…”

Aberdeen perched herself up on her elbows.  “Do you think I’m the soul of someone?  Or something?”

Kasha looked at her strangely, but answered the question nonetheless.  “I definitely think you have the capacity to be for someone.  You know I believe in the concept of soulmates.  Why do you ask?”

“For who?”

Kasha shrugged, but a small smile appeared on her face.  “For William.”

“Why William?”

“Because from the few times I’ve seen you to interact together – like last year, and then at the Halloween party – he looks at you like you already are his soul.”

***

“You should come over for lunch one of these days,” Jason said to her on the phone.  “Jen would love to have you over.  I’m sure the girls would love to see you too.”

Aberdeen smiled into the phone.  Jason Spezza was deflecting.  This was not part of their original conversation.  “When you’re okay, maybe I will.”

“I’m always okay,” he defended.

“You’re not right now,” she said definitively.  There was no beating around the bush.  “But you will be.  At your own pace.  And when you’re good to go, I’ll come over.  And you better cook and let me and Jen sip margaritas in the backyard.”

Jason laughed his infamous laugh.  “Deal.”

***

August 11th, 2020

“Media blackout?” Aberdeen asked William on the phone.

William nodded his head on the FaceTime call.  “Media blackout.”

“I’ll come over tomorrow when Kasha’s back at the office,” she said.  “We can cuddle.”

“That’s all I want to do right now, to be honest.”

***

August 12th, 2020

With Kasha going into the office, Aberdeen was able to sneak away to William’s.  He let her in easily, without much fanfare, and he enveloped her in a hug and brought her down with him on the couch as they lay their together, every limb wrapped around the other.  Aberdeen was running her fingers through William’s hair soothingly as his head lay on her chest.  Hockey was still on in the background.  Alex was still playing, and William wanted to support him.  Aberdeen already knew he’d be calling his brother after the game.  

“I love you so much,” she whispered out of nowhere.  She just felt the need to say it.

William looked up at her.  “I love you too.”

“That last night at the hotel, Brendan told me I was the soul of the team this year,” she said.  His comments were still on her mind.  “Do you think that’s true?”

William nodded his head.  “I do.  I think you’re my soul, too.”

***

The kisses were slow at first.  Needy.  William needed her.  He needed to be comforted.  His brother wasn’t around to talk to, and it was the middle of the night in Sweden so he couldn’t call his parents, although Aberdeen was sure they would have picked up the phone if they saw it was William calling in the middle of the night.  So until he could speak to his brother and his parents, Aberdeen would be there for him, kissing him as they lay facing each other side-by-side on his couch.  There to console him.  There to comfort him.

They kissed for a long time.  Such a long time.  It told Aberdeen that William needed that intimate physical contact, not just flat-out sex, and that he was savouring his time with her as much as she was with him.  But who was she kidding?  He always did.  He always savoured his time with her.  It didn’t matter where, or when, or how, or how much they’d lied to the people around them to get some alone time.  By the end of it she was sure her lips here swollen and red, and when she opened her eyes to look at his, his were too.  So puffy.  So soft.  In their glory.

She felt his hand dip beneath the hem of her pants and grab the flesh of her ass to squeeze it.  She hooked a leg over his torso and could feel his growing erection graze her thigh.  She shivered at the feeling, digging her nails into his bicep.  

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Sorry for what?”

“Sorry we couldn’t do it for you and your story.  I won’t forgive myself if you don’t get that job,” he revealed.

“Shhhhh…” she cooed, cupping his face and kissing him.  “What did I tell you before we got into the bubble, hmm?  I love you no matter what happens in there.  I love you Willy.  I always have and always will.”

“I love you too, minskatt.  I need you.  Do you need me?”

Aberdeen’s heart fluttered at his question.  She nodded her head automatically and gave him a quick kiss.  “I need you.  I’ll always need you.”

With their pants and underwear pushed down their legs, William slipped himself into her slowly, watching the look on her face change and hearing the long sigh escape her mouth.  This is what he loved most about their physical relationship.  They could do anything and it would feel like the best time every time.  They could have regular sex.  They could explore a new position.  They could have rough, passionate sex like that night in the bubble.  They could have close, intimate sex like right now.  Each time was incredible.  Each time he loved more than the last.

Each time, William realized how much he needed Aberdeen, and how much Aberdeen needed him.  They needed each other.

“You feel so good, Willy,” Aberdeen’s voice brought him back down to earth.  The pure euphoria in her voice was music to his ears.  “I need you, Willy.  I need you.”

He moved his hips to thrust into her, and so did she.  Their bodies moved together as they always did, and the pleasure they experienced together was paramount to absolutely anything and everything.  

After they both came together, William squeezed his arms around Aberdeen and pressed her against his body even closer than they were before.  He nestled his face into the crook of her neck, dragging his lips along her skin until he got to her ear.  “I need you more than anything,” he whispered.  “You’re my entire life.  You’re my entire soul.”

She believed him.

***

August 25th, 2020

Aberdeen was with Camden when the news broke.  She was spending the day at her parent’s house because Camden had admitted he missed her, so Aberdeen decided to spend the day.  They played video games.  They watched Brooklyn 9-9.  They went on a bike ride around the neighbourhood with masks on and stopped at a local shop to grab some smoothies.  It was perfect sibling bonding time while Siena slaved away in their bedroom studying God knows what for God knows which course come September.  

“Did you see the news?!” Camden asked as he emerged from the smoothie shop with both their smoothies.

“See what?” Aberdeen asked, thinking the worst.  

“Kasperi was traded!” he announced as he handed her the mango smoothie she requested.  

“What?!” she shrieked, grabbing her phone out of her back pocket.  She hadn’t looked at it since they went on the bike ride about an hour ago, because she wanted to spend actual quality time with her brother.  Now, she saw that she missed the alert from the Leafs app on her phone, and a slew of texts from Willy.

“Yeah.  He got traded to Pittsburgh—”

kappy just called me he got traded to pittsburgh just got told r u around? can i come see u? ok so ur not at ur place… ur not at Scotiabank r u?

“—for a first-round pick.”

“A first?!” she shrieked again.  She was shocked.  Shocked.  She didn’t know how Kyle was able to finesse a first-round pick for Kasperi fucking Kapanen.  Her mind was in three places at once as she thought about the trade, her brother standing in front of her, and William’s texts.  For all his faults and questionable judgement in girlfriends, Kasperi was one of William’s best friends.  She knew it would hurt William to see him leave.  That’s probably why he was trying to find her.

I’m at my parents hanging with Cam today.  He missed me.

i know

You know?????

“Cam, I think we should head home,” she said, hopping back onto her bike.

Camden’s eyes lit up.  “Why?  Do you think Brendan Shanahan will want to call you?”

He was so cute.  To think she was important enough that Brendan Shanahan would call her about a trade.  She let him think so.  “He might…” she said, opening the Leafs app on her phone.  “Let’s just go.  You lead the way.”

It wasn’t the smartest choice, but as they biked through their neighbourhood back to their house, Aberdeen read the statement on her phone.  PRESS RELEASE -- -- -- The Toronto Maple Leafs announced today that the hockey club has completed a trade with the Pittsburgh Penguins, acquiring the Penguins' first round selection in the 2020 NHL Draft (15th overall), forward Evan Rodrigues, forward Filip Hallander and defenceman David Warsofsky in exchange for forward Kasperi Kapanen, forward Pontus Aberg and defenceman Jesper Lindgren.

So Pontus was leaving too.  Another Swede.  Aberdeen wondered if William had a strong opinion on him leaving as well, but she doubted it.  She thought about what was going through William’s head as she and Cam continued their bike ride home, but as they turned on their street and they got closer to their house, she noticed a car parked on the street.  A very familiar looking car.

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ…” she mumbled to herself.  

“Whose car is that?” Camden asked, speeding up.  “Don’t people know they’re not allowed over houses anymore?!”

Aberdeen mentally prepared herself as she and Camden walked through their front door.  And that’s when Aberdeen saw him: William sitting on her couch with her mom, mask dangling from his wrist as he held a mug of tea.  “There you two are,” her mom smiled.  

“WILLIAM!” Camden screamed as he kicked off his shoes.

“Hey buddy,” William smiled as he watched Camden’s face light up.  He watched as Camden readied himself to run over to him for a hug but then stopped himself.  It made William sad, knowing Camden couldn’t do what he wanted to do.  “How are you?”

“I’m good!  I’m – do I have to get my mask? – are you staying for dinner – are you going back to Sweden? – are you—”

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down young man,” Orla smiled at her son.  “I don’t think you’ll be needing your mask.  And yes William will be staying for dinner—”

“—YES!—”

“And no, I’m not going back to Sweden.  I don’t want to have to quarantine again.  I’m done with quarantining,” William added.

“Me too!” Camden said, exasperated, as he plopped himself down on the couch next to him, sipping dramatically on his smoothie.  “I haven’t seen anybody besides these guys since March!”

***

Aberdeen was sure William was a near-perfect human being when it came to interacting with Cam.  That afternoon saw them playing street hockey and video games, with Aberdeen even leaving them alone together while she helped her mom make dinner.  When Mirza came home from work and saw William, his face lit up.  Even Siena was happy to see him, despite her stress from studying. 

Maybe this would make it easier for when she had to tell everyone that they were dating…eventually.

William promised to drive Aberdeen home, which meant Orla and Mirza could escape into their room to sleep and not worry.  They gave Cam special permission to stay up well over an hour passed his bed time.  It was only when Aberdeen told Cam that he needed to get ready for bed that she and William had their first moments of alone time the entire day he spent at the house.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t talk about the trade.  I know you’re probably feeling like shit right now seeing your best friends being shipped off.  Are you okay?” she asked as they lay on opposite ends of the couch.  

“Much better now,” he said, his voice soft.  “I love your family.  They make everything better.”

She smiled.  “I think Cam just has so much energy and asks so many questions that it takes your mind off of it,” she giggled slightly.

“That’s part of it, but it’s more than that,” he said.  “It’s your mom’s cooking and your dad’s smile and Siena’s, like, stares.  It’s Cam being so cute.  It’s this house and the vibe, like at Christmas.  It’s everything.”

Aberdeen couldn’t keep the smile off her face.  “For what it’s worth, they love you too.”

“Do you think we’ll have a family like this?”

Aberdeen would have frozen if she was uncomfortable with the line of questioning and what William was insinuating.  But she didn’t, because she wasn’t.  She nodded her head before reaching between their bodies to tickle his fingers with her own in a small, unnoticeable sign of intimacy.  “I do,” she said softly.

“I love you, Aberdeen.”

“I love you too, Willy.”

“Aberdeen?” Cam’s voice suddenly rang out as he walked back into the living room with his pajamas on.

Their hands separated quickly.  “What is it, Cam?” she asked.

“I saw your name all over hockey Twitter.”

Both Aberdeen and William shot up.  “What do you mean?” William asked.

“What the hell are you doing on hockey Twitter, Camden?” Aberdeen asked sternly.  “You’re twelve.”

“Joey at school has an account and he shares it with me!” he said, as if that would make Aberdeen calm.  It just fuelled her anger and made her want to punch a twelve year old boy named Joey.  “It was because Saylor Greene talked about you.  Who’s Saylor Greene?  Does she work with you?” Camden asked.

Aberdeen’s heart fell into the pit of her stomach.  William jolted off the couch and typed something into his phone as he walked outside.  “Give me your phone,” she held her hand out at her brother.

“But Aberdeen—” he watched William leave to go outside.

“I said give me your phone now,” she repeated.  

Camden handed it over.  She began to scroll through the screen to see the tweets he saw, and read what he’d just read.

@leafsbabe34: saylor greene is having a meltdown on her twitter about the leafs. she’s a psycho

@coolcoolcool: good luck to kasperi Kapanen and his psycho girlfriend in pittsburgh.  Pens PR never ever puts up with this type of bullshit so it will be interesting to see what happens to her.  Good riddance.

@amandaaalove44: she brought so much drama to Toronto…bye bye saylor!

Okay…innocent enough.  Aberdeen still didn’t like Camden reading all of this but she didn’t see any mention of her name.  How the hell was she being dragged into this?  She scrolled some more, reading much of the same tweets, and then she saw it.

Aberdeen’s stomach was in knots as she read all the tweets, all the insinuations, and all the outright accusations.  Saylor was naming her without naming her.  Any hardcore fan would probably know who she was talking about.  Hockey twitter would definitely know thanks to the Blueprint birthday video.  She felt sick.  She felt sick as she saw Saylor’s replies to everyone’s tweets, calling them out and being downright rude to people she didn’t even know.  She was sick as she saw fans commenting on the situation and bringing her name up because they knew it was her.  

“Aberdeen?” Camden’s voice was soft, confused, as he watched his sister furrowing her brows at his phone screen.  She looked at him.  “I’m sorry I was on hockey Twitter.”

“You have to promise me to never go on there again,” she said.  “I mean it Cam.”

He nodded his head.  “I was just trying to see what they were saying about William.”

She inhaled.  “Now you really can’t go on there again.  Not until you’re thirty.”

“Sixteen.”

“Deal.  Now come here,” she extended her arms.  

Camden went in for a hug.  “Where’d William go?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said.  “Let me hug you in silence because you’re gonna become a teenager one day and you won’t let me do this anymore.”

Her phone buzzed from beside her.  Brendan’s name flashed atop of a text message.  I’m taking care of it.  And as she continued to hug Cam, she could hear William’s voice vaguely from outside on the deck.  “This is twice now with a girl you’ve dated.  TWICE!!!!!”

***

August 26th, 2020

“How many words do you have left?” William asked as he massaged Aberdeen’s shoulders.

“I’m just editing,” she said, reaching her hand over and placing it on one of his.  “I’ll be done within the hour.  I promise.”

William bent down to give her a quick kiss.  “You got this.”

***

To: Alec Young [young@torontolife.com] Cc: Beth Zadakis [zadakis@torontolife.com] Bcc: From: Aberdeen Bloom [aberdeenbloom@gmail.com] 23:15     08/25/2020

Hello Alec and Beth,

As requested, here is my 10,000-word report on the NHL Bubble experience.  Please note that I have also included photos to accompany the text.  I have received express approval from those in the photos that they can be used for this article.  If you would like me to send proof of permission, please let me know.

I hope you enjoy my work and choose it for publication in Toronto Life.  I understand that the article may, perhaps, be a departure from what was expected.  However, I believe the work speaks for itself.

Best, Aberdeen Bloom

***

August 27th, 2020

“So what happens now?” William asked.

“We wait,” Aberdeen said, her breath shaky.

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

The Kiss

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female!OC (written in second person)

Rating:NC-17

Warnings: lots of sexual tension, use of a knife, slight violence, sexy times at the end, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), Jack being himself cause that comes with a warning, I think that’s all

Word Count: 2,606

Author’s Note: Welp I am still alive and do remember how to write! Its been so long and I am so sorry about that! I hope to get back to posting more regularly and catching up on request and doing a few new things soon. Cross your fingers, manifest, pray, whatever you do I need all the help I can get! I hope you all enjoy this little fic with the cowboy! Feedback is always always welcome and encouraged! Happy Valentine’s Day y’all!! As always a big thank you to @clint-aww-no-barton​ and my Jate’kara clan both for emotional support and putting up with my ass and my meltdowns 

ao3 link for story

    “Ginger I don’t know about this.”

   Your voice held a slight tremble which made you curse yourself mentally. You looked over yourself in the mirror before letting your gaze fall on the woman behind you. 

  “Henley you look absolutely incredible. Jack won’t know what hit him. Plus this is honestly a very calm mission for it to be your first,” she gave you a smirk as she finished the last of the lace up on the back of the dress. 

  It was a breath-taking dress. It was a deep red and it had a beautiful skirt with a slit up to about your mid thigh just enough not to show off too much and a corset top that had a heart shaped neckline which was super fitting for the occasion. 

  Statesman, a secret agency you worked for had learned of a couple selling Top Secret government information. They were using art of all things as a front to do so and tonight they were holding a large gala at the capital as a celebration of the day. Valentine’s Day and the art was all to be focused around love. Statesman finest senior agent, Agent Whiskey, or Jack was set to take the couple down but him showing up alone to an event such as this one was far too risky so here you were. You worked tech along with Ginger and one of the two women who held jobs at Statesman. You never minded a dress and heels, something Ginger curled her nose up at, plus you had all the proper training so you accepted the offer to hang off Jack’s arm. 

  That thought alone was what made you tremble. Not the mission in itself. Not the knife that sat cool against your thigh. No it was pretending to be Jack’s girlfriend for the night. You wanted so badly for it not to be pretend. 

  “Henley?! You ready?” 

  Ginger’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned to her and gave her a nod. 

  “I’m ready as I’ll ever be.” 

  “Hey you never know this may lead to something,” Ginger finished the sentence in a sing song voice and you felt the small hope blossom in your gut. 

  You had already promised yourself you wouldn’t get your hopes too high but with every single step you took down the hall to the conference room it seems to grow. You pushed the door open and walked into the room. Champ, Tequila and Jack all stood around, their heads turning your way and all of them wore a look of pure shock. Tequila let out a whistle before smirking and glancing at Jack. He stood there his eyes raking over you several times before they met yours. The two of you shared a look that could only be sexual tension. 

  “What? The senior agent doesn’t have a line for once?” You smirked as you walked closer to Jack. 

  A crooked smirk spread across his face and he took your hand, kissed it and then twirled you around. 

  “I have to say darlin’ you are the first woman to ever render me speechless,” you couldn’t help the blush that rose on your face. 

  “You two better get going,” Ginger spoke as she glanced from her tablet to the tv in the room. 

  “We will follow you and be at the rendezvous point just in case you need backup. Get them in custody and get them back here,” Champ gave you both a nod which you returned. 

  “We got this boss. You ready darlin’?” Jack held his arm out for you and you took it. 

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” you gave him a nervous smile and the two of you headed out of headquarters. 

  Your nerves had built up to an almost shaking manner by the time Jack and yourself walked into the building. There were more people than you thought there would be, couples bustling about and Jack’s cologne was starting to make you dizzy. You had to focus. There was a job to do and you had to push your feelings for the man on your arm aside. 

  “I think with all these people it’s going to make this a lot easier on us,” Jack whispered in your ear.

  “I sure hope you are right.”

  The two of you wondered around glancing at the art that scattered the walls. People talked about details on the artist and their work, champagne in their hands. You glanced around catching the sight of the best dressed couple in the whole place and something in your gut knew. You gave Jack a small nudge and nodded your head over in their direction.

  “That has to be them,” you whispered as you looked up meeting his eyes for the first time that night. 

  “You ready to do this darlin’?”

  You gave Jack a simple nod and a smirk to lift your confidence. As you walked away you felt Jack’s hand on your wrist stopping you in your tracks before pulling you to him and wrapping his hand around the back of your neck. His lips crashed against yours and your shock only lasted seconds before you kissed him back. The entire world around you fell away and so did your trembling nerves. When he pulled apart the two of you seemed to share the same tension filled look as you did earlier in the conference room before you broke off and went your separate ways. You glided now, with your head held high as you stepped up the stairs. You knew that the room they were secretly meeting clients in was mere steps from the stairs and you knew it would draw the woman’s attention to follow you. You sent your senses into overdrive feeling another presence behind you and hearing the sound of heels trying to be quiet.

  “What are you doing up here?” Her voice was sticky sweet with an edge to it.

  You spun around with a smile to match. The next few moments seemed to move in slow motion but all so fast. 

  “Oh just looking for that room there,” you pointed with a smirk as the both of you seemed to break into action.

  She was too slow for you and the second she charged at you, you dodged before slamming her against the nearest wall your knife just inches from your throat and her body pinning her to wall.

  “Selling Top Secret government information will get all the right peoples attention honey. You only thought ya’ll were being slick, hate to break it to you but you ain’t,” you spun her around spitting the words as you took at the handcuffs that had been rested by your knife and slamming them shut around her wrist.

  You walked her down the stairs and saw that the room was a bit of a mess and her partner was lassoed on the ground seething in anger. Jack walked to you with a smirk of pride on his face. He jerked the man up and the two of you started to walk out of the place. Jack tipped his hat at a few people in the room with apologies.

  “Well done darlin’.”

  “Thank you Jack. I had such a rush I didn’t even hear all that happening. I wouldn’t expect any less from you though,” you smirked throwing him a wink.

  You loaded up the couple, blind folding them and then heading back to Statesman headquarters. The debriefing was short and simple. You could finally breathe again or so you thought.

  “I don’t think we should let such a dress go to waste. Let me take you somewhere,” Jack spoke as he leaned on the table looking down at you.

  “Well then let’s go cowboy,” you reached out your hand and he took it with a smile.

    The restaurant was probably the nicest you had ever been in. Even in the dress you still felt like you didn’t belong. A piano player skillfully played on a small stage not far from your table but it was low enough that Jack and yourself could carry on a decent conversation. The two of you discussed your side of things during the mission, laughing in all the right places and took bites of food in between. Jack took the last bite of his food and he gave you this look for a moment that you caught. You raised your eyebrows at him which soon gathered together in confusion when he stood up.

  “May I have this dance darlin’?”

  “Jack people will stare.”

  “As they should you are the most beautiful woman in the room, hell in the world,” a smirk crossed his features and you blushed.

  You took his hand and he pulled you to the empty place next to the stage. He pulled you close and began to sway with you. Your eyes met with his and the two of you shared that look once again.

  “What was that all about?” You suddenly asked.

  “Might need to refresh my memory darlin’. I ain't got a clue what you are talking about,” the smirk on his face told you differently but you rolled your eyes and blushed a deep red again.

  “The kiss back at the gala. What was that?”

  “Darlin’ I think we both know the answer to that,” he pulled you closer his forehead touching yours.

  “I need to know for sure Jack. I’ve wanted this for far too long and I-.”

  His lips were on your suddenly but this kiss was different. It held a different hunger but it was softer, more gentle. When he pulled away you couldn't help but let out a whimper you wondered if he could hear.

  “I’ve wanted this for far too long too darlin’ and if you’ll have me I would want nothing more.”

  The smile that spread across your face could have lit the entire world up.

  “Of course I’ll have you Jack.”

  The two fo you shared another quick kiss full of laughter and smiles as the song finished up.

  “Why don’t we get out of here and head back to my place,” Jack whispered in your ear and you simply gave him a nod.

  You stopped by the table, Jack leaving a large enough amount of money to cover both the bill and the tip and the two of you practically ran out of the building. 

    Hands were everywhere as you both struggled into the door of Jack’s home. You couldn't even make yourself stop long enough to look around. All that mattered in this moment was the man who’s lips were attached to yours. Jack suddenly reached down and picked you up from under your knees and you let out a giggle as he did before reattaching your lips to his. You threw his cowboy hat off and discarded it somewhere along the way to the bedroom before lacing your fingers into his hair. It earned a grunt from him before he deepened the kiss. You felt soft sheets suddenly as Jack laid you down across his bed. He hovered over you finally detaching himself from you. Both of you panted with swollen lips for only a few seconds before Jack’s lips began to pepper across your skin. He left a trail of them across every last bit of visible skin before he dropped to his knees over the edge of the bed. You sat up, sitting back on your hands to watch him. He removed your heels slowly as he kissed along your legs you pulling you bottom lip in between your teeth at the sight. His lips made their way up your legs alternating between the two and moving your dress when need be until he came upon where your knife still sat strapped to your thigh. He threw you a smirk before his fingers brushed across your skin to unfasten it and remove it carefully. Then his lips followed causing you to let out the first moan of the night. He eyed your clothed center before moving your panties aside and without much more of a warning dove in. You jumped and let out a gasp that feel into a moan before grasping at his brown locks and pulling at them. His hand snaked up and pushed lightly on your stomach to make you lie down before his arms wrapped around your thighs. You were a mess at this mans mercy and my god had you dreamed about this too many times to count. For a few seconds you almost thought that’s all this was, a dream. That was until your first orgasm rocked through you and you were thankful for Jack’s arms or you might had suffocated him between them. He came up smiling and licking his lips. You pulled him up and kissed him again moaning when you tasted yourself. 

  “Jack I want you now,” you almost whimpered in desperation.

  “Oh darlin’ I know. I want you too. First gotta get you out of this dress,” you couldn't help the laugh as he pulled you up.

  You spun around for him and he gently started to unlace your dress, his lips falling along your shoulder and what was exposed of your back and neck as he went. You let your eyes flutter closed and took in the moment you were in and how real it finally felt. This was happening and you couldn't believe it but it was. Finally the dress pooled at your feet and you turned to help Jack out of his clothes letting them join yours on the floor. The two of you fell back into bed finally burning skin on burning skin.

  “Jack please,” you whined again giving him a begging look.

  “I got you darlin’,” he kissed you on the nose before he lined himself up with you.

  He buried himself inside of you and it was the most wonderful feeling you had ever felt. The two of you seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces so perfect and carved out just for one another. He moved first at a slow pace before you were begging for more. Your nails making soft scratches along his back as he rocked into you. His lips left marks in places only the two fo you would know about.

  “Faster Jack please,” you moaned out loudly.

  He obliged moving his hips quicker and harder. You were so close again and you grasped at him like a lifesaver. Your head flew back and without warning you let go. Your pussy squeezed around him and your entire body shook. Jack was soon behind you burying his head into your neck as he moaned and whimpered. He kept a slow pace until the both of you came down. He pulled out of you and rolled over pulling you with him. He held you there, both of you panting before it seemed the two of you let out a smile and looked at each other. 

  “That was…”

  “Amazing,” you finished his sentence in hopes you were correct.

  “It was better than that. Everything I have always thought it would be and more.”

  “Wait you have thought about us together?” You sat up and looked down at him.

  “Well hell yeah darlin’ of course I have.”

  The smile that spread across your face almost hurt but you couldn't seem to care. He pulled you back to him the two of you becoming intertwined in each other. He laid a kiss sweetly on your forehead and you closed your eyes. In that moment you finally felt safe and loved and you never wanted that feeling to end.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl​ @arcadianempress​ @discogrrl​ @immundusspiritu​ @someplace-darker​ @thisis-theway​ @ohpedromypedros-main​ @scribbledghost​ @on-the-razor-crest​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @spookyold-saintjm​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @princess-and-pedro​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @littlevodka​ @all-hallows-evie​ @mack4676​ @perropascal​ @prettyboyskywalker​

[my-mt-heart]

There's something that's been bothering me for some time. When Find Me came out (or even just when spoilers came out), it became obvious that fans didn't like it all, that the episode caused some of them to stop watching the show and that the most triggered group of fans were those whose AK needs for her spin-off. And this also showed how much she underestimated them, thinking they'd watch any shit that was thrown at them. But as if there wasn't enough, she showed tremendous disrespect to them. Around Find Me, there was an interview done by Kristen Acunula or whatever her name is, and she asked AK why she trolled fans. And she answered that she didn't, but she was not about to do things on the show only because fans want them. I'm paraphrasing here, but Kang's attitude has thrown me off as being an arrogant one. Of course, you'll never satisfy everyone but saying it out loud that you don't care about fans is weird, to say at least.

We also can easily assume that AMC wasn't thrilled with fans' reaction; they for sure saw how it blew up out of proportion and caused massive damage to their main show as well as to the spin-off.

So, what could've been their reaction to that? They could be angry at Kang, but the truth is, they'd agreed to such a storyline, so they also had misjudged fans' expectations.

Could they do something about it? And I don't mean doing a damage control in interviews, but a real thing like changing the script a bit? In one of the recent interviews, Kang admitted they sometimes change things based on fans' reactions. When Find Me came out, they had already been shooting season 11 (I think episode 1 or 2), so the changes would haven't been big, but still a showrunner can always adjust following scripts.

AK's words gave me some hope, but then I read other interviews and read synopsis and tracking spoilers, and it really looks like Kang have totally separated Daryl's arc from Carol's, even things she says about the storyline suggest that the disaster with Find Me did not affect her in any way. Does she think fans, those she needs the most in upcoming years, going to sit and watch the following episodes with Leah and Daryl as if their arc was a heart of s11? She already admitted that the heart of this season is also Carol's and Aaron's shared arc. I mean, I have nothing against Aaron, I love him, but it has been a while when I continued to watch the show merely for Carol and Daryl (and I'm not even a shipper, just adore their friendship), and in my opinion, Kang went too far after the cave nonsense. I did not watch 10b and 10c, and now it looks like I'm not going to watch 11a either because my favourite show should provide me with joy, not ongoing depression and meltdowns. Angst is great when you read a book or watch your favourite show, all episodes in one evening. Otherwise, the fun began to change into misery. And so now I'm seriously considering not even watching spin-off because AK has lost my trust completely, giving injustice to my favourite characters, and I'm emotionally exhausted. God only knows what she's going to do to them in the spin-off...

I'm guessing I'm not the only one with such struggles. So, my question is, what on earth Angela Kang is doing? Do you have any idea?

Wow. A lot to unpack here. Frankly I’m not sure I have the mental capacity right now to touch on everything, but to answer your main question, “What is AK doing?” AK is being a showrunner, which means striking a balance between accounting for audience feedback and trusting her own creative voice to do Caryl’s story and the story as a whole justice. Everyone has different visions. Unlike everyone, AK has the authority to see hers through and she’s not going to give it up to every person who thinks theirs is better. So unfortunately, there are going to be some choices we don’t understand or agree with along the way. I definitely have my fair share of grievances with her style of storytelling, but in no way do I buy there’s any conspiracy going on or that she hates Caryl and Caryl fans. Just by following the narrative closely so far, she seems pretty trustworthy to me (in terms of making Caryl romantic that is), but if you want to skip out on the spin-off, that's your choice. As for what she says in interviews, I'd be careful about misinterpreting those. For example, she did not say Carol’s and Aaron’s arc was the heart of S11, she said the food crisis in Alexandria was. And saying she isn't trolling fans is not the same as admitting she ignored them.

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [13]

Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14

➜ Words: 4.3k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

“I’m in love with you,” he asserts.   “Gross.”   Your answer is instinctive. But you’re not disgusted with him. Your features don’t twist. Your lips don’t become lopsided. Rather, the word is stated blankly. Impulsively. After all, you’ve conditioned yourself to respond like that — like anything in relation to romance is now awful.   “Yeah.” Jungkook sighs, hair shagging over his forehead as he looks down. “I know. I’m pretty disgusted with myself too. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still in love with you. Fucking head over heels and all that crap.”   You’re rendered speechless, about to ask him if he’s fucking with you, if this is some kind of sick joke.   But then suddenly, Jungkook sighs loudly, startling you. His rigid body deflates, the tension in his muscles leaves and he knocks his head back, taking a deep breath. “God, it feels so good to be honest. With myself and with you.”   The sun is setting over the horizon, the warmth soaking into his skin and softening his edges. The pair of you face each other in the middle of the empty sidewalk on an equally empty campus. There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to take cover.   You wonder how long he’s felt this way for.   You’re conflicted, unsure what to tell him. “Love’s a strong word, Jungkook.”   “I’m aware.”   “H-How are you even sure?”   The dark-haired man looks you in the eye, his own becoming half-lidded. His breathing turns shallow, heavy in his chest and out his parted lips. “I’m sure.”   You know Jungkook well enough to recognize his earnest sincerity. There isn’t a shred of doubt in his gaze nor his expression. He doesn’t waver once in his bold conviction. There’s only truth.   “Well…...shit.” The words sink into you. The claws and pointed ends of each syllable nick into your flesh. In an instant, your impassiveness is torn from you — your placid state taken — your stoic face uncovered. “Fuck. Fuck!”    You scream up into the sky, turning around, hands in your hair. What he’s saying registers and you hate it. You hate that love has to mess up every single relationship that you have. Goddamn. You can’t keep that disease away from affecting the people you care about most.   Jungkook watches you have the small meltdown with widened eyes, not sure what to do or say. But then you whirl around after a moment, determination set in your features. All of a sudden, you grab his hand, patting it with your other firmly as if you were a doctor coaxing and comforting a patient.   “We can overcome this together.”   “What?”   “It’s okay. This happens. If you’re friends with someone from the gender you’re attracted to, it’s natural you end up having a crush on them. It’s expected actually, considering we spend so much time together and interact so much. People encounter this issue all the time, but we can overcome it, Jungkook. Together.” You put your hand on his shoulder, eyes sympathetic. “I’ll help you get over me.”   Jungkook can feel his left eye twitching.   Of all responses, he did not expect this one. You’re acting like his therapist and that he’s got some kind of illness. You even end up thanking him for telling you the truth.   Jungkook might actually need to see a therapist after talking to you.

Infatuation only lasts so long. Personally, in your humble opinion, you aren’t hot shit anyway. You’re not that great. Jungkook will get over himself when he sees you for how you really are.   If anyone’s ever liked you, they won’t for long — you have evidence of that.   “Hey, buddy!” You give finger guns as a greeting, making sure to not get too close to him.   “You don’t need to patronize me.”   Your voice releases stiff laughter. “Alright, bro.” You put your fist out for a fist bump, but Jungkook completely ignores you. He walks right past you with his hands in the pockets of his open coat.   “Are you coming or are you going to stand there like an idiot?” he asks, briefly glancing over his shoulder.   You scoff.   Ever since the whole traumatizing confession, nothing’s changed. But at the same time everything has.   Jungkook doesn’t act any differently — he still glares at you, calls you stupid and a witch. But you also begin to notice how affectionate his physical gestures are, when he taps your arm, when takes your shoulder to guide you away from a crowd, when he pats your head.    And your efforts of keeping things as platonic as possible inadvertently makes everything awkward. It’s even worse now that you’re literally spending so much time with Jungkook. Exclusively. It’s just him, and for the months to come, it will only be him.   You’ve already decided within the first minute that you won’t ignore him or distance yourself. You can’t. Not with the upcoming internship, and not when you’ve had that happen to you. You won’t do such a cruel thing to someone else. Jungkook will always be your friend no matter what and you’ll make sure of that.   You catch up with him. “You know, I haven’t showered in days. This is like three-day old hair. Greasy, right? I just get so lazy showering.”   “Right.” He ignores you.   It goes silent and you noisily clear your throat. “Man, I had the worst shit today. It was explosive, dude.”   “You really think toilet humour is going to make me stop liking you?” Jungkook stops in his tracks and you halt in a delayed manner. He shifts towards you, glaring. “What do you take me for?”   You pout. “At least I’m trying.”   “Try harder.” He pauses. “For the sake of both of us.”   You’re befuddled over his answer and when he starts walking again, you quicken your pace to match his. “What? You don’t want to like me?”   “Not if you don’t want me to. I just wonder what’s more difficult,” he hums thoughtfully, “You trying to get me to stop liking you or me trying to make you like me.”   “I already like you,” you mumble.   “See?” Jungkook points out abruptly as the corner of his mouth quirks into a subtle smile. “That’s not going to help with my situation.”   “Sorry.” Your cheeks puff in your pout.   “Neither is that,” He says and when you quirk your head to the side, brows furrowing, he grins boyishly. “Stop worrying about it before you give yourself wrinkles. Save your energy for the internship. I’m the least of your concerns.”   He’s wrong.    Jeon Jungkook is the biggest thing on your mind lately.

Kim’s Wedding Cake Company sits in the middle of Imlings Avenue.    It’s a bakery played in between two small boutiques. It has tan brick walls and the shop’s sign is slightly worn around the red letters, but still legible. The doorway is narrow and crowded by two large glass windows on either side that invites onlookers inside for a session of cake tasting.   The bell chimes as Jungkook pushes the door open, keeping it wide until you’re able to step in.   The cream walls and the floorboards create a cozy atmosphere like you’re home. But what sets it aside from an intimate abode is the paintings of wedding cakes on the walls and the rounded tables with chairs around them for customers to sit at.   A counter is curved at the corner of the room, cutting off the main area from the back. The moment the bell stops ringing, a short woman comes frantically stumbling out from the doorway.   “Welcome!”    She grins and the wrinkles around her eyes crease. Her brunette hair is in a bun, strays falling to frame her face. The woman is maybe around her early forties. “Congratulations on your engagement!” She grabs her binder and starts flipping. “Do you have an appointment?”   “Oh no! He and I…” You point at Jungkook and then back at yourself, flustered. “We’re not like that.”   Jungkook is holding back laughter, watching you flounder about. You’ve suddenly become so anxious at the idea that the pair of you are engaged. He turns away to look at the woman. ���What she means is that we’re your interns.”   “Oh, thank god.” The woman sighs, stepping back. “For a second here, I thought I had completely forgotten about an appointment.” She turns on her feet, placing her hands on her hips and shouts, “Namjoon! Honey! We were supposed to get our interns today?!”   From the other room, a man’s voice screams back. “What?!”   She goes closer to the doorway, shrieking, “Our interns! Were they supposed to come today?!”   “No! They’re coming in a week from now!”   “Then why are they standing right here?!”   “What?!”   “Why are they standing here?!”   You exchange a look with Jungkook, not sure what’s going on. At the same time, a stocky, tall man in the traditional chef's uniform emerges — white double-breasted jacket, black pants and an apron. “I heard you, I heard you.”   “Did you mark it wrong in the calendar again?”   “I swear I didn’t—” The older man’s eyes widen as they catch the two of you standing there awkwardly. You lift your hand in salutation and he laughs. “Well, what do you know! Here they are, today! Welcome to our home!”   Namjoon opens the wooden separator, comes out and wipes his hands on his apron haphazardly to shake both of your hands. His wife sighs and follows closely to greet you. “You must be Y/N and Jungsook?”   “Jungkook,” he corrects in dismay while you try to hide your giggles.   “Right, right. My bad. My name is Namjoon and my wife here is Sejeong.”   Sejeong smiles. “I’m glad you’re both on board. Do you have any experience doing wedding cakes?”   “No, we haven’t.”   “It’s alright,” she reassures, “We’ll teach you along the way.”   “We need all the help we can get.” Namjoon sighs. “Ever since Soohyun went on maternity leave, we’ve been swamped up to our chins. Doesn’t help that it’s wedding season.”   “Auntie.” A four foot eight girl comes out from the back, her long black hair tied into a ponytail at the crown of her head, and coral apron tied around her body. “The chocolate’s melted—”   The girl freezes on her spot, big eyes pinpointing onto Jungkook. You glance at him, and he looks at you with a small shrug.   “Has it?” Sejeong smiles and brushes past her. “I’ll go check.”   The younger girl doesn’t move and Namjoon smiles. “Oh, this is my eighteen year old niece, Yuna. She’s working here part-time to help out, mostly on the weekends when she’s not at school.”   “Nice to meet you.” She timidly approaches Jungkook, clearing her throat and batting her lashes at him.   Jungkook blankly shakes her hand. “Hi.”   You extend your own hand and it’s only then that she seems to notice you and reluctantly shakes it. “I’m Y/N and this is Jungkook.”   “Jungkook,” she murmurs after you. “So you’re going to work here till August?”   “Yes, they will.” Namjoon laughs heartily. “You should go help your aunt look at the chocolate, Yuna. You can only learn if you know what you did wrong or right.”   “Fine.” She exhales and drags her feet away, throwing a fleeting look to Jungkook over her shoulder.   Namjoon re-directs his attention to the two of you with a softened smile. “Let me show you around!”    The back area is a short hall that splits into three. The door to the left is a room with a table and chairs, posters of wedding cakes on the walls and happily married couples on their wedding day. “This is our only private room we have. It’s just in case a couple has a large party with them or would like some privacy when we have our consultation.”   You peek your head into the room across from it. “That is our staff room and our bathroom and where our offices are. You can always eat your lunch or take a break here.”   Namjoon leads you the other way and it’s to the place you know best — silver countertops, stoves, ovens, and sinks galore. “And this is our kitchen. We have a fridge here where we keep our cakes, a small fridge, our pantry. You’ll get yourself familiar pretty soon, don’t worry.”   You return from the tour back to the main area, asking questions along the way which Namjoon is happy to answer. The pair of you also offer more insight into what you know and he’s pleasantly surprised that his two interns are more experienced than expected.   “It can get pretty hectic around here during the wedding season. Some days we just have appointments and cake tasting all day. Other times, we’re rushing to make a wedding cake for the following day or we might be at the wedding venue getting it all set up. We usually open up shop around eight in the morning and you guys are let off at four.”   “Don’t worry, if we have to stay late to catch up on work or finish a cake up, you’ll get paid handsomely.” Namjoon grins. “We work five days a week. Sometimes you’ll have to come in on the Saturday if we have a wedding on Sunday, but it’s not often. Any questions? Comments?”   “Um…” You exchange expressions with Jungkook. “No, not really. I think we got it.”   Suddenly the older man bursts out laughing, startling you both. “You two don’t have to be so anxious! I was a student once too. Don’t they say wedding cake internships are one of the hardest ones you can take?”   “Uh.” Jungkook gingerly smiles. “We’ve heard of that.”   “Yep.” The older man bobs his head. “That’s what I thought. But don’t worry, it’ll be a lot of work, but it’ll be fun. Just don’t get on my wife’s bad side and you’ll be fine and dandy.”   “Are you talking badly about me?” Sejeong comes from the back, glaring at her husband.   “Oh, there she comes.” In spite of his playful warnings, Namjoon laughs, dimples marked on each side of his cheek. He leans over to plop a kiss at the top of her head and waltzes into the back, leaving her sighing.   “That man. Hopeless, I swear. Anyhow...I hope you both are ready!” Sejeong claps her hands together. “No time like the present to start learning and diving into it! We have a couple arriving in an hour for a consultation and I want you guys to lead. Should be easy enough!”   The two of you nod, preparing yourselves.   //   Both Namjoon and Sejeong give you a few moments to yourselves to breathe and not be overwhelmed. But you’re kind of excited. It’s a bit surreal that one moment you’re sitting in a lecture hall learning about theory and the next, you’re in the real world, about to apply all the knowledge you’ve gathered. For a while now, you’ve missed working and being more hands-on.   You glance down to your coral apron they gave you. Jungkook is in the same one and while he grumbled about not wearing much pink before, he looks cute in it. You wanted to take a picture but he didn’t let you. Self-conscious Jungkook is one you’ve seldom seen and admittedly, endearing.   “They seem really nice.” And in love. It’s pleasant to see. Even with how disgusting romance is.   It just isn’t often that you can look at a couple and not think about their inevitable doom.   “Yeah, they are. Thankfully. God knows how many strict head chefs are out there.”   You wonder what it’s like to own a business with your husband and work together all the time — though you don’t voice your question aloud. You have an inkling Jungkook would flirtatiously answer ‘that could be us’ and you don’t need to be distracted by him right now.   His presence is a distraction enough.   “How about Yuna though?” You elbow him lightly in the ribs, giving a nudge while wiggling your brows. “I think she likes you.”   Jungkook’s expression blanches. “She’s still in high school.”   “I’m just kidding—”   “And some other girl showing up is not going to stop me from liking you any less than I do,” Jungkook says nonchalantly, stating it like it’s a fact. He’s unaware of how your face heats.   You quickly take a drink of water in an attempt to cool down. Goddammit — he’s being a distraction already without you having to set him up.   “You still owe me that favour.” You clear your throat, changing the subject. “Remember? When you challenged me saying you could pipe better than I can temper chocolate.”   “I thought we called it even.” Jungkook grins, cutely with the mole dotted underneath his mouth.   “Nu-uh. That’s not fair and you know it.” You put your foot down. “We agreed the loser would have to cover for the winner when they go on break or make a mistake. And you lost, Jeon.”   “Already planning on making mistakes?”   You sulk. “No. I just want you to have my back.”   “You already have that,” Jungkook says tenderly with a smile. “And a lot more.”   Your mouth is filled with cotton. The corner of his mouth curls even more, relishing in your surprised expression. He doesn’t even bat a lash and merely looks away when the bell to the front entrance rings. “Welcome to Kim’s Wedding Catering Company.”   You tear your eyes away from Jeon Jungkook’s profile. “Do you have an appointment?”   “Yes, we do.” The woman smiles, dressed in a white beret and trench coat, her cheeks blushing. She’s accompanied by another woman in a leather jacket who’s holding her hand. “It should be under Lee.”   “You must be Sungkyung and Victoria, congratulations on your engagement.”   The both of them glance at each other, sharing giddy smiles. “Thank you.”   “Right this way.”   Jungkook leads them to one of the wooden tables, setting out a book as you grab the slices of cake on the plate from the back, all decorated and labeled. Sejeong who’s been watching at the counter gives an encouraging thumbs up.   “So your wedding is being held during the beginning of September?”   “Yes and we’re planning to cut the cake during the evening,” Sungkyung says as Jungkook jots it down on his sheet.   “Will this be an outdoor or indoor wedding?”   “We’re planning to have it outdoors in a garden.”   “That’s nice.” Jungkook smiles. “Do you have any themes in your wedding? Any colour scheme?”   “We have butterflies and we have green and purple as our colours.”   “And how many guests do you have?”   “About a hundred.”   “Okay.”   You come to the table with the long plate and two forks. Both of the women are excited, eyes lighting up as you place the cakes in front of them and take a seat beside Jungkook.    “This one is vanilla cake with buttercream. It’s simple, but a classic. This one is coconut cake with coconut cream. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting, chocolate with ganache, lemon with custard filling and fondant, strawberry with salted caramel filling and fondant, and the last one here is carrot cake with butterscotch sauce filling and chocolate buttercream icing. Take your time.”   “I really like this one,” Victoria whispers to her fiancée, fork points to carrot cake. “Or at least the icing part.”   “I prefer this one.” Sungkyung indicates the strawberry cake and takes another bite.   “We can always mix and match,” you tell them with a smile. “It’s possible to do strawberry cake with buttercream.”   “Buttercream usually tastes better than fondant, but if it’s hot outside, it might melt.” Jungkook’s brows knit together and you look at him, humming for a second.   “Well, we always put a layer of fondant over the buttercream so they also get that smooth look and we wouldn’t have to worry about melting.”   The boy nods. “Yeah, that would work.”    “That sounds really good.” The two women smile at each other. “How much would it cost?”   “Ummm…” Jungkook flips through the binder, memory failing him. He finally finds the table of all the prices on the tenth page. “For us, it depends on what kind of cake you end up choosing and how many tiers it’ll be, but it should be around four hundred to five hundred. For a hundred people, I’d recommend…..uh…”   “Three to four layers.” You finish his sentence and Jungkook looks at you gratefully.   You leave the two of them to finish up the cakes and to discuss with one another.   Sejeong who’s been waiting at the back has her compliments prepared. “Great job, you two. Couldn’t have done it better myself!”   It’s stressful to remember the details, but luckily Sejeong is merciful and allows the two of you to shadow her as she goes out to explain the designs, possible flower arrangements on the cake and discuss how they want it to look. She also goes more into detail about prices, providing the women with a write-up of what it would look like.   When the consultation is finished, there’s not a moment to breathe.   You’re ushered into the kitchen where Namjoon is working on a wedding cake.   “So I already baked these babies yesterday and let them cool down in the fridge. I’ve also made the buttercream just now. Today we crumb coat our cakes and colour fondant. Tomorrow, we’re going to cover the cakes with fondant, put dowels in and stack our tiers, and decorate, then it’s all ready for delivery! Easy, huh?”   “Umm…”   The older man laughs noisily from his chest. “I’m guessing you two know how to crumb coat cakes?”   “Yes, we do.”   “Great. Then this is all on you. Make sure not to mess up! It’s the bride and groom’s special day! People only have a wedding once...hopefully.”   There’s not any pressure whatsoever.   Namjoon leaves, coming in and out to help with his wife and niece cleaning the front and watching over your shoulder. But he has little to say to both you and Jungkook when he finds your techniques sufficient.   The cakes are placed on a turntable, bench scrapers and offset icing spatulas in hand. You add a thin layer of frosting to trap cake crumbs and prevent them from popping up in your finished cake. And while you crumb coat two layers, Jungkook does one and goes to colour fondant.   Namjoon teaches him, rolling the fondant into a ball and kneading until it’s soft and pliable. A small dot of pink is added and he kneads the colour until it’s blended.   Once you’re done with the cakes, you help Jungkook with another ball of fondant, kneading until your arms are sore. Afterwards, the two of you assist Sejeong and Yuna, organizing the shelves of baking pans, various coloured ribbons, and bins of cookie and cake cutters.   It’s tiresome, but you feel rejuvenated when they let you try some of the spare cake slices they offer. It’s delicious, melting on your palate and Namjoon jokingly quizzes both of you on what kind of icing works best with what cakes and what ingredients are in each of them.    You’d like to say you won.   They also teach you how to answer emails and phone calls, and both you and Jungkook arrange a few appointments for next week. The day is over before you’ve realized.   “Good work, you two!” Sejeong praises. “You’re very fast learners.”   “I heard you rank high at your school.” Namjoon smiles in spite of your modest protests. “I believe you know her as Miss. Kang. She speaks highly of you two and I’m not disappointed.”   “Jungkook, I heard you wanted to be a Chocolatier?” Namjoon asks and the boy is like a deer in the headlights, doe eyes rounded. He nods slowly.   “Yes, that’s my long-term goal.”   “When we have a moment then, I’ll work on something with you,” he promises with another dimpled smile and Jungkook is visibly enthused. “Anyway, I hope nothing was too overwhelming. Get a good night’s rest and we’ll continue tomorrow!”   They close up shop as the sun sets over the horizon and Yuna waves wildly, bidding Jungkook farewell. “Bye, Jungkook!”   He makes a noise, a small ‘bye’ to her before the two of you turn away after waving to the married couple. You walk down the street together, towards the bus stop where it’ll guide you home.   “That wasn’t bad.”   “Yeah.” There’s a pause. Jungkook smiles at you. “It wasn’t.”   Silence eventually falls in between the spaces.   You can feel your eye bags deepening, your bones creaking with every movement. You’re exhausted from the long day, unable to utter a single word, but the quiet that settles is comfortable rather than awkward.   Your feet are moving on their own against the pavement, the sounds of cars moving past shaping the white noise of the city. It’s a long way back home, but as you glance at Jungkook, walking alongside him with your footsteps synced together, you’re glad he’s here.   The two of you have each other for support.   You’re unknowing to how Jungkook shares the same sentiment. He takes a glimpse of you when you don’t notice, stealing glances like he’s stealing candy. The smile on his face softens.   His own words echo back to him— “I just wonder what’s more difficult,” he had hummed thoughtfully, “You trying to get me to stop liking you or me trying to make you like me.”   It occurs to Jungkook that he’s found his answer. He realizes he can’t ‘overcome’ his feelings. He can’t get over you like you think he can. 

If you rejected him, his concern of making you uncomfortable would far outweigh these simmering emotions inside of him, but you didn’t. The fact of the matter is that Jungkook knows your aversion is towards love, not him. And with such uncertainty and possibilities, it’s impossible to get over you.

It won’t work. Not when you’re you. 

So Jungkook chooses the other path — the other approach.    He makes the decision right then and there. Instead of idly standing by and allowing you to sprout nonsense and drive him even more crazy, he’s going to act. He’s going to actually do something about his feelings—    Jeon Jungkook is going to court you.

[firstagent]

Regarding my question question about final episodes rankings, I was specifically asking about ranking each season finale.

Oops! I can do that one too. This time with a little more commentary! Note that I'm leaving out tri. for this one since it's not fair to judge all of part six against singular episodes.

Appmon- On top of the great action sequence fighting Leviathan, it leaves Haru with a truly gut-wrenching choice with devastation at the end no matter what he chooses. Yet it's still a remarkably hopeful ending on top of that!

Tamers- Takato's determination shines through in the final battle with D-Reaper and there's nothing quite like the little dork saving the world and the girl, followed by probably the most emotionally brutal separation ending.

Frontier- It only happens a couple times, but Takuya meltdowns are super warranted and super underrated moments. It takes a lot to pick him back up and forge ahead with a strong final fight. The silly melodrama in the hospital at the end is just a bonus.

Adventure- The standard to measure to measure post-climax scenes by, ending with one of the most iconic moments in the franchise. The ho-hum build up and the execution of the Apocalymon fight is all that holds this one back.

Adventure: (2020)- The most visually impressive last fight, following all the right steps to make the ending as sweet as it can be. The notion of telling the story and the final enemy being reborn are appreciated throw-ins.

Savers- Strong final battle as you'd expect from Masaru, but missed a chance to defy expectations and keep the Digimon around in a series trying to prove co-existence is possible. Still a much cleaner execution of the time-jump epilogue.

Xros Wars- As much fun as the final battle is to watch, there's so little emotion behind Taiki and Shoutmon saying goodbye that it's fair to wonder how much of an impression the whole thing made on its lead cast.

Hunters- I still absolutely insist that if Tagiru had been framed as a scrappy underdog on top of an overeager ball of energy this ending would have worked great. Appreciated his moments of doubt, but they'd be more powerful if we were really behind him.

Zero Two- All of the concepts introduced are solid and appropriate to the series, and it's impressive they worked such a giant cast into it, but epilogues that raise more questions than answers is seldom a good idea when you won't be hearing from that world for the foreseeable future.