#again i never follow my own fuckin advice

[ardenrabbit]

your work is all so amazing!! do you have any advice for writers who maybe want to start writing longer fanfictions?

Ahh!! Fhhfkf thank you!!! ;^; I don't know how useful or coherent my advice might be, but here's what's helped me in the past:

1. Know what kind of writer you are. If you work better by starting with a structured outline, do that, but make sure to actually start WRITING the scenes after that lol. If you get more momentum by diving in and just seeing where the story goes, do that, but make sure you have a DIRECTION to go in. A healthy balance of planning and discover-as-you-go is the most fun in my experience. (I usually start by improvising and having fun with a concept and then gradually cornering myself into planning lol. By then, planning isn't a chore; it's just satisfying to see everything fall together.)

2. Don't force an idea to be a long fic if it doesn't need to be. If you feel like your concept would be better served by a short fic, do it justice by not stretching it into a shape it doesn't need.

3. If your concept is bigger and does need a long fic format, make sure you know what threads you're weaving together. Write an actual list of themes, subplots, and character arcs and keep track of them, and figure out how you want to pace them in relation to one another.

4. Have resources prepped! Name banks for minor characters; notes/links to articles on the time period/environment/culture you're writing about; pictures that inspire you; songs that hype you up for your story or the characters... Mostly, if you don't like doing research, START LIKING IT. Find joy in researching the symptoms of hypovolemic shock and the native flora of Northern China. Look up multiple sources for each little topic. (I just keep a messy list of links and notes in the bottom of my docs lol)

5. If you get stuck or bored, revisit the source material. Watching/reading the original story can remind you why you got so excited to write fic about it and refresh your ideas.

6. If you're bored while writing a scene, it's probably boring to read. Don't turn writing into a chore. Think about what needs to happen in a scene and why it matters, find what you care about in it, and follow that. If it starts feeling like you don't need a scene and that you were just using it to fill in time, cut it.

7. My favorite thing: don't be afraid to write out of order. Write little blurbs or pieces of dialogue for chapters way ahead, if you have something in mind! Give yourself a goal to catch up to. It'll help you get the big picture of your whole fic and then fill in the scenes you need to get there.

8. Don't let people tell you what to write!! This goes both ways: if people say "it should've gone like [thing you don't wanna do]," tell them to shush and write their own shit. If they say "it would be so cool if [thing you were already planning] happened," do it anyway! You don't have to change just for the element of surprise. Don't twist the story out of place just because someone guessed your awesome idea. Everyone will be happier for it.

9. Don't settle for your first draft if it doesn't feel right. If you're working on a scene and it doesn't fulfill what you need, restart it from as many angles as necessary until you're happy. Seriously, building off a scene you don't like will make you feel dissatisfied and poison everything to follow.

10. Talk about your fic with people who hype you up about it. If you're not used to writing long stories, do what you need to keep you motivated and EXCITED about it. If asking someone to beta read helps you, do it! (I almost never ask for beta readers bc I'm a control freak, but honestly they can be so helpful.)

11. The forbidden tip: if you lose interest halfway through, it's okay to drop it. Do what makes you happy. You don't owe anyone anything and you're doing this for free. Try to finish it though lol, it's so satisfying to see a work complete. Do it for the dopamine at the end.

Disclaimer: I write long fics 1) because I like to soak in them and savor them and 2) because I don't know how to shut up and write short ones lol. I deeply admire people with the skill to just say what they need to say and wrap up a story neatly.

Also, I don't follow my own advice. Plenty of my scenes have fluff that I could have cut but didn't because Mark Twain is dead and can't tell me what to do lmao

I hope this had something helpful in it 😅 Good luck! 💖💖💖

[xxstylefntsyxx]

Daisuke Darling, You're My Bestfriend

A/N: Part 2, Yall a lot has been going on Jesus if I had a close friends I'd tell yall but just know I'm back for good and I'm sorry to stray! Now yall been clawing up the doors for this one so... TADAAAAAA!!!

Themes: NSFW, Fluff and Admitting feelings *sorry it took so long*

Bestfriend!Daisuke

Who's been pondering his feelings after that day and has been super awkward. You took notice and wondered if you did something that made him this way. Lots of are you okays and are you sures'; you just couldn't put your finger on it, and he was just being a major blocker about it. So you dropped it for some weeks, still worried about him, though.

Meanwhile, this boy was fighting the demons of hell. Your touch is too good for him now, and he felt so unworthy of your smile. He wanted to crumble and sob to you about how he got off with just the smell of you and that he was just wanting to hold you and touch you and! And!

"Daisuke! Pay attention!" Swansea yelled. He slipped up and fell off the small ladder, hitting his ass. "Ow!" He yelped. Swansea rolled his eyes, "Keep your head out yer' ass and keep going! You're not done!" He said, pointing back to a piece of the air shaft he told him to fix.

"Ah shit sorry! It just- like, have you ever been in love like super hard?" He asked. He wiped his knees and checked his ass for any dust. Swansea huffed, "Kid, I have a wife. Of course I've been in fuckin' love before! What do ya' want!?"

Daisuke set down the flame tool and leveled himself with Swansea, "I fell in love with my best friend. Look I'm not asking for a coach, I'm asking for a...dad."

Swansea stopped in his tracks. His face once was angry, and now was sullen and stern. He walked towards him, with his fist clenched around a singular wrench, "Look... I- what do you want to know? I'll tell you, but then you're back to work! Got it?"

Daisuke nodded happily, "Girls are complicated, and I recently found myself liking her. But like I don't know how to tell her."

Swansea grunted, "Son, you're grown. Other girls like her are a flirt away."

"But not like her! She's so nice to me and kind and comforting, and I love her smile. She makes me giggle, and I don't mind getting in trouble with her if it means that I can be with her every single day." He said, thinking about you and sighing in love. Swansea could almost see the hearts in his eyes as he thought about you.

Swansea let a little chuckle out, "Alright son, I see it, I see it. You're in love like I was. I asked my pops for the same advice and he told me the same thing. Guess I thought it would be okay to tell you too. I see you need Swansea Advice, not my dads..."

"Look, I'll be honest. Women are complex creatures that work on scales a bit higher than ours. Course being in love comes easier to them than to us. We wanna bawl up or just flirt it off our shoulders. But then she gives you those eyes of love, that touch that makes you feel alright. She gives you feelings that - yeah, I'd follow her. If that's the one, then you go to her and you tell her. Don't just wait. Never wait cause when you don't see her again, you'll wish you did."

Bestfriend?Daisuke

He pondered about what to do for weeks. He decided he'd own up and tell you! Fuck how everyone else feels. He was sick of the constant running and hiding! You're that girl who can only come once in a life! Its only a matter of time before their back off this dump, and he never sees you again.

"Hell yeah! Fuck it! Time to find her and-"

"RUN!" He heard you yell from down the hall. He squinted hard to see what was behind you. As you got closer, so did the figure.

"What the-"

before he finished, you grabbed him. Then he realized, "Holy shit! Is that Jimmy!?"

He didn't have time before you were whisking him along with you. "Y/N! What did you do!?" He yelled. You laughed loudly, "Fuck that bitch! He yelled at me, so I tipped his coffee, and it fell on his feet! It burned him, and now he wants to kill me... and you because I involved you."

(Insert that meme of the dog with its eyes closed, poor daisuke)

You two ran around a corner before stopping and sliding into a small room. You hushed him until you couldn't hear jimmy. "It was a good prank! I fucking got em'" You were giggling and laughing quietly under the darkness of the room and not noticing just how close you and daisuke was.

Bestfriend?Daisuke

Freak out? Now? Yes.

Shit! This isn't how he wanted to admit his feelings to you. Not in a- what the fuck is this!?

The space was too close, and he only had enough room to slightly move away, but you were pressed against him like a sandwich. He didn't understand what this room was for, but whatever it was for, it wasn't - He felt around, and then he sucked his teeth, sighing. It's a closet for the brooms... why the fucking closet room for the brooms of all places!?

When you were done, you turned somewhat around to face him. "What's wrong, Dai? Are you okay? We can find another hiding space!"

You were almost if it wasn't for the little bit of space granted from moving the brooms close to his chest. He breathed out a, "No! No, please, I'm just... really close to you, don't you think?"

He was flushed out. You were so sexy right there. So cute. He has to tell you, has to tell you how he feels. Before, he never sees this sexy beiw ever again, unless in his dreams. Or his horny flustered events in his room.

You pondered, "What's up with you? Afraid I'll give you cooties? Dick."

Your face turned sour, but he shook his head. "NO! please, no, that's not it! I swear!" He was stammering. You pressed closer, chest entirely too close to his, "Then what is it!?"

"I- I-!"

Bestfriend?Daisuke

"Y/N! Fuck man I've been holding this for weeks okay! I like you! When you're close, you make me feel flustered and very confused, and I don't know if it's cause I like you or if I like you! I've even taken asking Swansea! I'm crazy! I know, but i-"

He stopped. Fuck, he just spilled like a can of beans to you. Poor daisuke, never could keep to himself. You were happy he did it first. Cause now you could tease him for being the loud mouth. Since he likes to call you one.

His face was a deep shade of red. He let go of your hands and wiped them off on his shirt. You did the same because he sweated so bad. "Well, now we know who the real loud mouth is." You tempted, still processing everything.

Even though you felt the same for the past weeks, his offness and blushing got to you. It made you slightly frustrated because of how cute he looked. Made you mad someone so handsome could look so cute when he was in love. But you weren't gonna admit it first. You just couldn't wait anymore.

"Dude, I like you. What's up?" He whispered. You jolted from thought, "Uh! I- I mean, yeah, me too!"

"That sounds so unconvincing!" He half yelled.

You scrunched your nose, "At least I don't sound like a fucking baby! Oh! Y/NN! I likeee youuu! Mwah mwah mwah!" You made fun of him. He scrunched his nose back at you.

He pinched your leg, which made you yelp and hit him. You and him caused a bit of noise, fussing and yelling. You hit his shoulder, and he pushed back against the broom, which scuffed against the floor.

"Ow! You pinch me one more time Daisuke! And I'll-!"

*Eeerrrrrrkkk!*

"You two are in... SO much fucking trouble."

Shit...

"Jimmy." You two said in unison.

UPGRADE LVL.1

Boyfriend!Daisuke

You two went to work, scrubbing and cleaning the walls of the tulper until Curly felt tired. That's what Jimmy said-

"I don't want you two to stop until curly walks down these halls to his room to sleep! Even then, you will clean behind him before you even think of escaping. Shitty brat, I should end your fucking life! And you! Daisuke!" He pointed at poor daisuke on his knees, shirt wrapped around his waist, crying and sniffling.

One thing you know about daisuke is that he hates cleaning even when Swansea makes him. Cries like a little bitch. Spoiled kid indeed. You've occasionally heard him whine and cry while Swansea yelled at him to clean his tools until they shine. Poor thing shaking and crying over tools, snot and drool I mean the whole diva works.

Looked like he went through the worst heartbreak ever when, it's just a snobby boy who never cleaned a dish a day in his life, but will climb in a capsule and fix whatever an old fart tells him to.

Choosy snobby fuck.

"I'm sorryyyy!" Here he was again. Poor daisuke, apologizing for something he didn't even fucking do and crying at the fact that he had to clean. Jimmy berated him, causing him to bend down and wipe his tears off the metal floor, sloppily and half-assed.

You were wiping some of the windows, looking out at the galaxy. You felt a hand around your neck, two quick squeezes, "I'll end you. Don't ever fuck with me!"

You winced but mustered a bastard smile, "Polle says-"

Jimmy growled, "Shut up!" His face was red.

Earning a sniffled snort from daisuke. Jimmy turned around and daisuke went back to sniffling and wiping the same spot.

"YOURE NOT EVEN CLEANING SHIT!" He yelled.

"Polle says-"

"Y/N!"

After doing Jimmy's dauntless task, you two were tired. Yes, but now you two had each other.

Boyfriend!Daisuke

You two were now sitting in his room, cuddled up, talking the day away. He asked you questions about your life at home, and you told him more than he already knew. That comfort you once felt was now filled. His laughter, his sadness, and loving nature showed straight. Why didn't you think of dating your best friend anytime sooner?

Boyfriend!Daisuke

(Alright, I'm tired of the slow jams. We've established it... let's get dirty bitches.)

He turns the music high enough to drown you guys out. You two had fallen into kissing long into your 'Hangout.' He just wanted to make sure their was ambiance so that it could cover up what he was gonna do to you.

"You sure? You can tell me to stop anytime, you know?" He asked you in a low voice. You were breathless, jumpsuit opened, and shirt pulled up. He trailed hickeys down your neck and your collar. You were breathing heavily and nodding, pulling him closer for another heated kiss. He unzipped the rest of your suit to slip his hand underneath it.

Trailing over your cold thighs, he found the lace of your panties, groaning into the kiss. You gasped, swallowed by his tongue and mouth. Lightly his fingers danced over the fabric, warm with your slick and cunt. "Fuck you're hot." He moaned.

He pulled back, and you could see the hardon growing desperately hard in his shorts. "You wanna take it off for me? Give me a show?" He asked with a smirk. You were a bit dizzy from the kissing. Surprisingly, he was good at what he did.

You slowly started stripping, giving him a run for his money. You rubbed your clothed ass, shaking it slightly.

"You're so beautiful~ I never thought I'd see this view ever." He whipsered. Your face felt hot from his words. You turned around now in a shirt and underwear. Straddling his legs, he bounced them slightly., "You're really fucking pretty." Kissing the middle of your collar bone, making his way up with kisses to your neck.

You were moaning, rolling your hips in his firm hands. You gripped his hair when his teeth fond a peice of your neck to bite. He flipped you over on your back, kissing you cheek before winking, "Be back!"

You didn't know what that meant. Like, was he leaving the room? His face slowly disappeared, along with the feeling of your panties sliding down.

"See if I remember what I'm doing... tap me if you need to breathe♡"

Oh

Boyfriend!Daisuke

Oh lord, that's what he meant. Shaking and moaning, he was working your cunt skillfully. Licking long prideful wet stripes up your folds. He circled your clit, sucking it slowly, earning whines from your jolting body. His hands found purchase in your thighs. Crescent moons left angry marks as he held you down with your legs on either side of his head.

"Dai- It's too! Much, fuck! Please!" You whined, trying to remove him. The tufts of his soft hair were delicious. Almost made you cum again, this would be the fifth or sixth? Who cared, it felt so good. Too good. Like crying good, stars in the eyes, you were overstimulated.

You tapped his veiny hand, and with that, he released you. He was panting, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

No shirt on, body glistening, eyes low with lust and plush lips wet with your juices. He looked so damn good. "I... want you. In me, okay?" You said breathless.

PART THREE IMMEDIATELY I RAN OUT OF WRDS!?

[shutupineedtothink]

More Moiraine & Lan (and the Bond) thoughts, because I really just can’t help myself.

Just thinking about how we know every Aes Sedai and Warder share the Bond, but we don’t see any other AS/Warder teams using it as a form of communication NEARLY as much as Moiraine and Lan do.

Like these mofos are having full conversations with head tilts and tiny eyebrow raises and 3 seconds of eye contact from the jump. Sometimes not even looking at each other. And it’s extra great if you’re a show only like me because you only realize it when you go back later after all the stuff with the Bond is explained in 1x04/1x05. Like I remember thinking when I was first watching the pilot ‘wow, these two are really in sync, clearly they’ve known each other a long time,’ but it’s so much more than that obviously.

Now, one easy explanation for this is that we’re just seeing them the most, they’re main characters, and s1 especially does a lot of work hyping up the Bond and how important it is so that we get the full impact of them being cut off later. Makes sense.

But… idk like even Alanna and Ihvon and Maksim, who are actually in a romantic relationship, don’t seem to prefer the Bond as a way to communicate. We even see them have their little diplomatic discussion before Ihvon goes to follow Tomas. It’s an actual conversation. Maksim even prefers the Bond masked, so I guess in that way they kind of have to talk to each other.

Verin and Tomas are pretty quiet in general, but still it’s not emphasized that they use the Bond to communicate that much. Perhaps this is also highlighted by Tomas’s advice to Lan that the Bond isn’t the only common language they share with their Aes Sedai.

Except for Moiraine and Lan, it’s like AT LEAST 80%. It’s the primary way they communicate. Because 1. they’re both so naturally reserved on the outside (but feel very deeply on the inside), and 2. I imagine it comes in handy to be extra good at it when you’re on the road searching for the Dragon Reborn and you don’t want everyone around you to know what you’re about.

Then there’s Stepin’s comment from s1 to Kerene, “Can you imagine their dinners?” Which is funny but also very telling. To all the other Aes Sedai and Warders, Moiraine and Lan seem pretty cold and distant, to everyone else and each other. But again, that’s by design to protect their mission. They’re just having conversations no one else can see, even other Bonded pairs. It’s like most AS and their Warders use the Bond as insurance, a fail safe even, to understand and communicate with each other, with normal human communication (i.e. TALKING) as the primary method. But for Moiraine and Lan it’s the other way around.

My POINT BEING, that this adds weight to their storyline in S2. Like they are REALLY struggling because on top of everything else, this fundamental piece of their relationship and communication is just gone. And it opens a door for Moiraine to push Lan away, when she NEVER would have been able to before, practically or emotionally. And he reels from her attacks because he’s just not as good at understanding her without the Bond, when he would have seen right through that shit before, just from feeling alone. So Tomas can say to him, you need to really listen, but 20 years of shared emotional mind reading is not that easy to bypass. You don’t learn normal person communication skills overnight. Certainly not when there’s this gaping hole in your head/heart where another person you probably knew better than yourself should be but isn’t.

Anyway, I think it just adds even more credence to why they’re both so lost throughout most of S2, especially Lan. And what makes them so badass with the Bond but so absolutely uncoordinated without it. And why every other Aes Sedai/Warder thinks they’re fuckin weird. And why we love them, because who doesn’t want to be so fundamentally understood like that? Who doesn’t want their own secret language with someone that no one else really gets, but that person gets you on a level so real it can’t be replaced? That’s what we’re all reaching for, and that’s what they have with each other. For better or worse.

[morgana-ren]

Hello! Came here from ao3, I really love your fics and writing style.

I just wanted to ask (and feel free to ignore if you dont want to answer) since you write a lot of dark content, have you ever gotten rude messages from people or pearl clutchers commenting on your fics?

I'd like to write darker fics but I'm lowkey worried about the reception to some ideas. Thats why I really admire authors like yourself who write with a great sense of attitude. Do you have any advice? Were you nervous when you first started posting dark fics?

Ooh! Interesting question! So sorry this turned into something SUPER long, but I actually have been exactly where you are right now!

So, funny story! When I first started writing fics fuckin' years ago, I desperately wanted to get into writing darkfic. Traditional, cutesy fics— while awesome for other folks— just did not do it for me at all. It was actually something I'd known and understood since childhood and always wanted to foray into. I never read vanilla stories, and I had genuine trouble writing them for a lack of passion or interest. It was something I was deeply interested in and had ambitions for.

It was actually Tomura Shigaraki that made me dust off the old keyboard and begin writing again, and that... Was a huge problem.

See, the MHA fandom was NOT as accepting as it is now back when I started writing— and I hesitate to call it accepting even now. Darkfic was heavily demonized and even fairly rare to come across. It was a fucking wasteland of nosy, pathetic busybodies who thought very highly of themselves and their opinions and dubbed themselves the saviors of the Internet and took it upon themselves to be horrific, vicious little cunts without a single modicum of self-awareness or shame. They got their jollies bending over backwards to antagonize authors who did anything they didn't like by ironically showcasing their own staggering ignorance of how the mind works and making it everyone else's problem in real life. They were very loud and pretentious about it, and unfortunately, some of them garnered quite a following of vulnerable, ignorant children who hung on their every word and command and were tricked into thinking these people had a single idea what the hell they were talking about.

Harassing real people over fictional characters. Using pop-psychology terms they didn't understand. Biased claims that had no basis in reality. Siccing followers on authors. Stalking and doxxing— you name it, they did it with malevolent, self-righteous glee. People getting death threats and doxxed was a very real problem that had some talented, lovely authors disappear from the Internet entirely and put people's actual lives in danger. Over words. On the Internet.

Darkfic authors were one of the groups that were harassed relentlessly. It was pretty rare to find someone brave enough to post it on AO3, leave alone Tumblr, and those that did were pretty much guaranteed harassment on one level or another, whether it was death threats or call-out posts day in and day out, or just cruel, mean-spirited anons. The pioneers of darkfic in that shithole of a fandom were braver than any US marine lmao.

Needless to say, I was petrified. The first fic I sat down and wrote for the fandom (Vermilion) was pretty harmless for the most part, although it dipped its toes in dark subject matter if you were particularly squeamish. If I had my way, it was going to be much, much darker. I wanted it to be darker desperately, but I was so terrified of the petulant, pathetic fandom mommies that literally made it their job to harass authors over fictional characters that I ended up policing myself over it.

The tipping point for me was making friends who with the few people who did have the balls to post it. Authors who were unbelievably talented and didn't give a fuck what some fandom-obsessed weirdo with a superiority complex had to say about it. They actually gave me the courage to be true to myself, and even then, holy fuck it was harrowing at first. I was shaking when I posted the first dark thing I ever wrote on here.

There was an outpour of support. People who loved the story and wanted more. Slowly, I totally overcame the fear with the mix of people in the community being kind and supportive, and simultaneously realizing how utterly pathetic and almost sad the puritanical pop-science fandom police were. Even now, I feel bad for them. No one healthy has that level of fascination and hatred with someone they don't know or something they don't understand that is ENTIRELY OPTIONAL to consume. It's genuinely sad and strange and is far more dangerous than reading about dubious topics in a fanfic.

Slowly, more people started to write darkfic and post it in defiance of these weirdos, and now it's fairly common! I can also say that thankfully, a lot of the weirdo, obsessive puritans have disappeared. I'm hoping they grew up and realized how absurd the whole thing was and are deeply ashamed of their past actions. You don't have to like or respect stories with dark topics, but talking out of your ass and making up reasons why the authors are bad people who deserve to be harassed and die is... Hilariously ironic.

Now, all that being said, I actually have never received hatemail. I was shocked. Hell, I still am, because some of my stories are genuinely heinous. I think I got someone's attempt at it once, but they were either drunk or a 3 year old, because it was literally incoherent. (And it was over the fact I hate Bakugo and not the content of my stories lmao Bakugo stans be wildin' sometimes.)

I think the closest thing I've gotten to a mean comment is someone commenting (incorrectly) that my German translation was off, and one that basically equated to "I love this story but anything more would be too extreme for me," which was very polite and not intended to be rude (although I wasn't quite sure what the point of the comment was lmao)

My best advice? Be yourself. Unabashedly and without fear. Write that dark content and post it with a smile. Your audience will find you, and you'll find so much love and support in the community eventually. Your fics are for you, and if others don't like it? They can act like an adult and not read something that upsets or offends them. Mean words suck, but there is nothing more liberating than spitting in the face of someone who tries to smother you and doing it anyway happily.

Most people who pearl-clutch and sling insults have a tenuous grasp on their own logic and are extremely entitled. I've found that more often than not, they're hateful, reactionary youngsters looking for an excuse to feel superior by pretending they have the moral high ground. They talk out of their ass about things they don't understand and all it does is make them look foolish. Like, they are literally factually, scientifically incorrect most of the time. They are the fanfic/literary equivalent of evangelical white moms having a panic over metal music being from the devil and DND turning their kids gay.

Fanfiction is just that: fiction.

Understanding yourself, your kinks and your own mind can also help immensely. You don't care much if some snotty anon calls you a degenerate if you understand why you write what you do and have no shame regarding it. Understanding the impact of fiction vs. reality, kink science, trauma coping, psychology, and other related topics (depending on what you write) can also help if you want to waste time trying to educate them.

Truthfully though? The funniest response to hate is either not responding at all (oh my God they hate that one) or responding with complete and total nonsense a la "your mom suck me good and hard thru my jorts."

These days? I don't worry about it at all. I write what I write and it brings me great catharsis and joy. I've made incredible friends and met talented people. I've improved my own skills and I have a "productive" hobby. Some folks don't like it? Cope and seethe and piss your pants and suck the liquid back out of the fabric and tell your mom my jorts are feeling a bit dry.

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Italian Beasts Beauty-chapter 12

Just like Italy

Charlotte and Luca have a massive fight. Ada drops a bomb on Charlotte that changes her view on the Shelby's.

_____________________________________________________________

 Just like Italy

Luca grit his jaw and tried slipping past her through yet another gilded hallway in their vast apartment. His shoulders ache from the strong tension vibrating through his back and neck. His jaw was clenched and anger flashed through his green eyes but that wasn’t stopping his little bride from reading the room and dropping her questions. 

He didn't have time to cater to her today. He was going to be late.

“I don't understand why I'm not invited! “ Charlotte knew she was five minutes away from her husband's famous temper boiling over on her. She was following him around from room to room pestering him about his secret meeting today. 

He had been dashing around all morning scrambling to get ready. He'd taken extra care of shaving, adding fragrance and dressing. 

He'd gently moved past her, grabbed her by the shoulders and picked her up to move her, now he looked almost murderous.

“ Pet dogs get out more than I do!” She stomped her foot and placed herself in his path. 

His green eyes flashed with rage, his jaw was shut so hard she could hear his teeth grind. 

He was livid! 

She still had yet to have more than a handful of lessons in Italian but she knew the tone and a few of the words that were being spat out. 

Curses fell off his lips like dripping venom. He was ready to strike. 

“ Fucking insolent child.”  He raises his hand and combs in through his hair. “Fuckin move!” He growled low and menacing. He was towing over her. She doubted at this moment that he had plans of gently moving her. 

“ Did you just call me a child? I'm not a child you dumbass, I'm your wife. I should know where you're slinking off to. You're dressed like it's a date.” Charlotte stood shaking, unwavering in her own kindling rage. Why didn’t he just spit it out?!

“ What did you just say to me?!” There was a literal inch of space between the two lovers. Heat raided between them like a desert strom. Never moving. She really did it now. 

“ For your information, this is a private lunch between me and my ma today, Charlotte. Which I'm now going to be late for.I WILL deal with you when i get back.” He leaned down, gravel filled voice raw and tender. He barely opened his mouth to talk to her. 

“ Your mom loves me!” She snapped at him. It was true. What was he hiding? 

“ Not today she don't tesoro. Today is the anniversary of Angelo's death. You know, the day YOUR FATHER SENSELESSLY KILLED MY BABY BROTHER!” He roared at her. A little bit of spittle touched her face. She refused to blink. Once the realization hit though, it hit her like a ton of bricks crumbling her resolve. 

“ I didn't know. You could have just told me that.” God, she knew it was stupid and insensitive once it came spilling out of her dumb large mouth. 

Pain riddled his face, regret flashing through his usually tender eyes.  

How in the world was she going to fix this with him? She’d fucked up, big time. 

“Luca, I’m so s…”

“ I don't…want. . to..talk.. about..it.” He stood up and grabbed his hat, not bothering to button his jacket as he stormed out. The door slammed echoed through the large and lonely apartment. 

She needed to think about her apology. 

She knew…she knew today she was a Shelby…..

______________________________________________________________

“ London, England please ... .Ada Thorne Shelby “ Charlotte tapped the desk with her well filled nails. She has snuck into his office, a forbidden room even here in New York. She didn't care. She needed advice now. 

“ Charlotte, love is that you?” Ada’s voice sounded so beautiful and cheerful. She missed the Birmingham accent, hell any English accent. 

New Yorkers sounded like drunken Americans slurring their words. Harsh and vulgar. She missed home so much. 

“ Lottie, luv, are you alright.” She asked again. 

“ Not even close! Apparently today is the day my dad killed Luca’s brothers. He didn't tell me and we really got into it. Today I'm Shelby.” She fussed and fummed. She felt so useless at the moment. 

“ He tried. His favorite insult was to call me Shelby when I wasn't a dumb obedient bride.” Ada chuckled at the memories. It had been so many years but Charlotte knew she still missed Freddie. She’d never remarried. 

“ Oh my God! Luca does the same thing!!! He even spanked me earlier today when he was getting dresses like I was a..a pet or his fucking child!” She flopped down on his desk chair.  She felt bad going back and forth with her emotions. She was partially at fault and she knew that. There was no way on Christmas that she’d be okay…why did she expect him to? She spun back and forth around his chair, mindful to not get knotted up in the phone cord. She needed to get her energy out. 

“ I'd have cut his balls off…he's Italian, he'd recognize the threat. What brought that about, the spanking I mean? You're arguing?” Ada’s question rubbed Charlotte the wrong way. She’d instigated it today. Neither one was very good at reining in their temper. 

“ Oh, he rises to the occasion enough.“ She snarked back. She was shuffling papers around his desk out of anxiety and boredom now. 

“ Charlotte! You two need to get the fighting under control. You can't argue like that in front of a child. You need to be a bridge to ensure the safety of this family since your marriage to him ended the Vendetta…if he annuls your marriage…”Charlotte pushed the chair back and stood up.What the hell was she talking about? They didn’t fight anymore then the Shelbys did, was their talk or her marriage ending? 

“Do you know something?” Cold icy fear washed over Charlotte, the undertow of thought that he’d divorce her chilled her down to her soul. She loved him. She didn’t want to lose him but she couldn’t live in another cage.  

“Lottie, lovie take a breath. I can hear you hyperventilating all the way to Birmingham. I’m sorry I spoke out of turn. We're all still trying to process too, Tommy is always raging and pushing us towards…..we’ll you know.” Ada’s tone was pleading, pleading with her to stop and fix everything alone on her end. 

What else was new. 

“Fine, he and I will just deal with this. I apologize, and smile and figure it all out without your help.” She was getting sulky again. 

“ Charlotte, you’ll pull this off. You are ever changing. Polly, Audrey and Tommy spoke in the meeting about you and a marriage to end the Vendetta. Their thought was that because you were so young you'd be….you know, don't make me say it?” Ada’s tone was shifting now. She sounded timid but Charlotte could hear the annoyance building in her aunt's tone.

“ I'd be what Ada?” Curiosity killed the cat, right? 

“ Young enough to be molded to Lucas' liking. Because you are young you are more likely to change and handle conflict in a way that would keep the Vendetta from rising again.  I was deemed too old and set in my ways, frankly, I'm happy that was the consensus.”  Ada’s admission felt like a sharp knife of betrayal. Is that really what they thought of her? A moldable dumb little puppy happy to be given attention from everyone here and there? 

“I have to go, the maid needs me for something.” There was no maid in her sight, she just needed a good cry and a hot shower. She couldn’t do any of this today. 

“Lottie, honey I’m sorry I spoke….” Charlotte hung up the phone. She practically bowled over the staff milling about while she ran into her bedroom and slammed the door. 

She needed her father so much right now. She just needed his strong arms around her telling her everything would be alright…but it wasn’t and it wouldn’t be until she helped fix it….how the hell was she supposed to do that?!

________________________________________________

Thank you for your patience as I update. I'm working through some personal stuff. Sorry everything is getting heavy and angsty.

[fictionfixations]

what the fuck?

[Marquez's power grew stronger by the day during Cyrille's tenure, and his thugs soon retained absolute discretion throughout the Qlipoth Fort as they issued their draconian decrees. The nickname Cyrille the Fool spread throughout the people, and they grew more and more dissatisfied with this puppet Supreme Guardian and her ministerial allies.

In the 14th year of her tenure, rebels among the Architects hatched a secret plot to overthrow Stefan and his cronies. The rebels won over the Silvermane Guards' Captain and planned on luring Cyrille and Stefan to the Silvermane Guard Restricted Zone where they could launch a coup.

That day, the Supreme Guardian Cyrille attended the military exercise as expected, but the rebels never found any trace of Stefan Marquez. The captain played them at their own game, dispatching a fake patrol of Silvermane Guards into the restricted zone with Cyrille, and pushing her into an arsenal chest. The guards then rushed to the far north of Belobog and, under cover of darkness, shoved the unconscious Supreme Guardian in the arsenal chest over the edge of the cliff.

The rebels carried out a search operation for three days and three nights in Belobog, but never found any trace of Minister Stefan Marquez. To this day, people still attribute the death of the seventh Supreme Guardian and the disappearance of Cyrilla to Marquez's political conspiracy — a claim that, according to Belobog historians, to this day remains inconclusive and unproven.]

(if there are any typos, in the text above im sorry but its a lot of text)

okay so i read this because. yknow how in hoyofair (that one with the mix between genshin and star rail. i wasnt interested in star rail but it was there so i watched it anyway. but yknow like Cyrille's Doll? that one creepy one about her. so i decided to read the thing and um..)

so. listen.

he manipulated a child into trusting him and relying on him for everything. that everything would be okay and all that shit. but it was all for his own gain

then when the rebels were going to do something he got his guards to fuckin shove her in a box. AND THEN PUSH HER OFF A CLIFF? WHAT.

and. bruh was just never found? HELLO? WHAT? EXCUSE ME? okay i mean its fair i guess cause idk you could die somewhere out in the snow and never be found but like

HUH?

[I started keeping a diary because of Mr. Stefan. He said that keeping a diary is a good habit for a lady to keep. He also said that keeping a diary is a very lonely affair, and that if I'm scared of being alone, I can just read aloud the diary to him.

To be honest, it's really hard to keep a diary because nothing interesting happens to me — I won't read this part to Mr. Stefan as he'll get sad, and I don't want him to be sad. I wish I were my sister, because she knows everything. She always tells me fun stories and is always telling me about the interesting people she meets.

It was only later that I realized most of my diary was about Mr. Stefan. Sometimes it's recounting our conversations, sometimes it's recording what I've learned from him, sometimes it's simply recording my mood while I wait for him to visit again.]

HHhhh

[I know you must be nervous right now, Cyrille, but I hope you can remember what I warned you before: Don't be intimidated by loud and empty threats. As long as you stand firm and follow my advice at all times, any pushback or complaint is just temporary white noise — something that will fade away as we draw closer to the end of the plan and ultimately become a picture painted together by us.

I sometimes still think of when I met you, more than ten years ago. You were a timid little girl back then, too shy to talk and lacking confidence in yourself. But I found something special in you — a one-of-a-kind temperament that even a genius like Cyrilla doesn't have. And it's precisely because of this unique talent of yours that I decided to stay with you, and help you build up the beautiful future that you deserve.]

okay so that thing that she has that Cyrilla doesn't have is either him buttering her up OR its that Cyrilla is smart enough to know who to trust and when she's being manipulated while Cyrille isn't. That's not to say that she's dumb, but it's more like because she was a kid and never got pushed to do anything else, that she could just 'rely' on Stefan that turned her into who she became, like just a puppet while Stefan has a bunch of power in the background.

i wonder if theres more on this but i dont think its ever explained what happened to her sister (she just went missing). maybe Stefan really did take Cyrilla out. Anyway it'd also be all too easy to lie and be like 'i looked for her but i couldnt find her' since it'd already been awhile since then right with no finding in sight? so it could hardly be expected to find anything. i just dont believe him when he claims that.

[Remember, Cyrille — you just have to trust me. I would never lie to you.

Your sincerest friend, Stefan]

yeah and you can go fuck yourself stefan what the hell?

im so startled by this quest im not gonna lie

[snormynight]

I think I’m going to pass Izzy around the crew to cope lol. This started off as o/uizzy but I realized Frenchie/Roach is soooo 🥺☺️💞 so here’s a thing about Frenchie and Roach making Izzy something (🥣) for his nausea and a cold. Emeto mention but nothing serious.

Izzy shivered violently and two warm hands came up and adjusted a blanket around his shoulders. He heaved a deep sigh from the depths of his gut but before he could get the breath out he was sucking it back in, chest heaving with a wheeze.

“Hhh…h’aiSHH-uH—huh- aiSHUU!”

The force hurt his stomach and he grimaced feeling the pressure in his head from being stuffed up. He sniffled wetly, absolving the use of a tissue.

“Hey quit that,” Roach warned. “You’re just sniffing the drainage into your stomach to prepare for a reappearance. And believe me, no one wants that. Just my medical observation.”

Izzy wanted to protest, but he knew that Roach was right. He was feeling more nauseous by the second and he could no longer blame it solely on the sea. A hazy look crossed over his eyes before he geared up for his second chance at using the tissue.

“hhRESCH-shuu! ESHHhue!”

Roach began to hold the tissue to Izzy’s face but Izzy snatched it out of his hands taking his advice. He gurgled a blow that ended into two coughs, crumpled up the tissue and threw it on the floor. Roach nodded in defeat. “Okay.”

When the Sun began to set, a couple of the Pirates gathered on the mast to futz around and Izzy couldn’t bring himself to join them. Instead he was folded over the side of the ship gripping the edge with all of his might. His stomach bobbed with the need to empty itself. But for the most part he hovered in between gagging and spitting small loogies into the water. He was still sweaty even with the cool night air on his back and he groaned, nose buzzing with the chill.

It was dark, the only light emanating from the top of the mast and from within the captain's quarters. Izzy heard footsteps approaching but was much too occupied with his itchy nose to address them. Frenchie sidled up next to him slowly leaning over to try to look at his face. Izzy steered straight ahead, avoiding eye contact at all costs so Frenchie followed his gaze to the sea.

“Um…what are we looking at here exactly?”

Izzy‘s hands traveled up his crossed arms to his shoulders. Frenchy heard him sniffle loud and thick. He coughed profusely trying to cover the congestion up. Frenchie opened his mouth again but Izzy held up a gloved hand.

“Can’t you just ‘be’ with the ocean a bit? You effervescent sing songy twat.”

Sure a bit of hostility wasn’t unexpected from Izzy, but Frenchie did feel this was a bit unwarranted. He swallowed nervously but pressed on, noticing the little tremor that held Izzy’s body.

“Yeah, ’spose I could. Never been much for parties.”

This got Izzy’s attention. He turned to look at him and at the same time, his nose itched for a need.

“Arehhh-‘nt you th-hih!…the fuckin’ bard?”

Frenchie stilled, caught in a lie and watched as Izzy winked an eye, stiffening his face to obviously stave off an upcoming sneeze. He fumbled around his chest, looking for his handkerchief. Frenchie clocked this, pulling out his own, a quarter with a patch he’d sewn onto it. Izzy accepted it and clasped it against his face. Frenchie watched his eyelids fall and eyebrows raise.

“Huh’ESSHuh! H-hhei-ish! hEHt’chzhuu!!”

He pulled away from the handkerchief, looking quite dazed. Frenchie held out his arms, steadying him on his feet.

“That I am,” he said, answering the question. “Doesn’t mean I don’t deserve a break.”

Frenchies' warm hands contrasted starkly to the cool night air, which felt more like a nippy chill to Izzy. He shivered and bit the inside of his cheek, trying to calm the hammering of his heart. The hands left him for an agonizing moment before one found itself on his back, steering him away from the edge of the ship.

“And the bard says you ought to have a bit of a lie down.”

Izzy pulled away, embarrassed by the subtle attention. “Fuck you I don’t care what the bard says. When you’re granted first mate you fuckin’ act like it.”

Izzy’s words rang in the air, a cruel reminder of how replaceable he was. He looked like he wanted to add something, but doubled over in a cough that sounded like it wanted to bring something else to the surface. Frenchie moved to help him, but Izzy stumbled away.

“Izzy, I hadn’t meant—“

But Izzy wasn't listening, going to curl up on himself in a corner again. Laughter rang in the background from the mast. Frenchie watched defeated.

Later that night, Frenchie sat sullenly at the counter, away from the other crew. He stuck his finger in his sauce, swirling it around aimlessly. When Roach had finished serving the last of the crewmembers, he reappeared behind the counter, throwing a towel over his shoulder and placing his hands on his hips.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Frenchie pressed his lips, looking over his shoulder. He turned back and leaned in.

“It’s Iz. He’s running himself ragged.”

Roach raised an eyebrow, reaching for a knife to sharpen. “And that’s your fault?”

“Well, no. Don’t think so, at least. But I suppose I’d like to do something about it.”

Roach sighed, shaking his head. “Frenchie, you beautiful man you, with your heart of gold. Some of us are lost causes.” His sharpening slowed. “I tried with him already.”

Frenchie shrugged. “No yeah I know that. Just think maybe there’s more we could do… something else. Maybe a dabble in the languages of love Pete was on about. I dunno.”

Roach nodded in agreement, but he wasn’t totally sure what he meant. He looked around his kitchen for inspiration. As hardcore as Izzy was, he bet he would seldom find comfort among knives and sharp kitchen tools. Roach admired Frenchie’s gumption though and continued to search until his eyes fell on the big soup pot in the corner. A recipe brewed in his mind and he turned back to Frenchie who’s eyes lit up with the same connection.

“Sounds kinda lovely, don’t you think?”

Roach beamed. “I know what we’re going to do today, matey.”

Later that day, Roach and Frenchie traipsed around the ship searching for Izzy. In the end they didn’t have to look very far and found him huddled on the bow, shaking miserably. He sneezed harshly into a clenched fist and gave into a barking coughing fit, before turning at the sound of footsteps. Frenchie caught the greenish tint to his face.

“Ah how are we faring now?,” Roach said cheerily. Izzy sighed with a wheeze, crossing his arms on himself.

“What’s left of my stomach now belongs to the trenches. Was that the update you were hoping for?”

Frenchie looked at Roach. “We were hoping, actually, again, to get you to retire to your chambers. Could be nice don’t you think?”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Could be. If there wasn’t so much work to do. Leave me be; I’m still on watch.”

Frenchie nodded, having expected this response. He pulled Roach closer with him. “That’s fine. We just thought you’d like to have a taste of this here soup. I’ve a cup here but there’s a whole tray set up on your bed. S’ easy on the tums.”

Izzy blinked the stars away, taking in the scene before him. The two of them presented a large steaming pot, with chunks of light meat and vegetables, swimming in a swirling broth. The mentioned bowl was offered to him. He accepted it quietly when his stomach clenched in a hungry pain.

Frenchie smiled softly before lowering the pot to the ground and ladling a shallow spoonful. When the bowl filled, the warmth reached Izzy’s fingertips and he was surprised to find the steam melt away some of the soreness in his breath. He lifted the bowl to his lips, obscuring the blush rising to his cheeks from the other men, though he supposed he could just blame it on the illness or the heat if it called for it. The broth ran down his throat, soothing his aching chest and he could hardly wait until it reached his pained stomach. His brows knit together, trying to keep the bubbling emotions at bay.

“It’s…” he choked at the tail end of a mouthful. “It’s fine.” His hand hovered over his stomach. “It’s pleasant.”

Frenchie beamed, soaking in Izzy’s gratitude while Roach smiled fondly at Frenchie. He almost forgot why they were standing there until Izzy spoke up again.

“I think I’ll pop down and have a look at it myself.” He murmured. Frenchie could swear he looked just a tad more sleepy. “Evening, boys. I trust you’ll keep a lookout.”

Frenchie and Roach watched as Izzy slinked away and then disappeared into the brig. When they were sure he was gone they clasped their hands together and fell onto the deck in a fit of giggles.

“Yes!” Roach hissed. “We did it!”

Frenchie laughed, scrambling into a sitting up position. They backed up to lean against the wall, but Frenchie didn’t miss how the two of them still had one hand linked together. He swallowed against the night air.

“How’d I do?”

Roaches laughter died down and he smiled at Frenchie with twinkling eyes. “You were fantastic. I haven’t seen ambition like that since the last plundering. You are a vision.”

Roche scooted ever so closer to Frenchie and leaned over placing a tender kiss to his cheek. Frenchie felt his face warm up and chuckled bashfully, facing Roach but avoiding his eyes.

“What was that for?”

Roach sighed, pressing his curls up against the wall with an upwards tilt of his head. He pulled Frenchie’s hand to his chest.

“You’re being promoted. To sous chef.” A pause, and then he added a little quieter, “if you’ll have me.”

Frenchies chest warmed up in a similar nature to Izzy’s stomach when he had had the soup. He squeezed Roach’s fingers gently.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

[getitoffyourchestofficial]

hi this is a lot im sorry. i love to say words and dump shit that upsets me with no real correlation. my bad /gen (genuine) (idk if you know tone indicators im sorry ough)

you dont really Have to cook up a proper response to this i just need to put it somewhere where i wont immediately get piles of advice that i cant use. i know its well-meaning but ultimately the whole situation is ou of anyones control

(also putting this 🎪 here so i can try to find it later)

im stuck in a sisyphean nightmare of a weekly cycle: i have a good day -> my mood skyrockets -> i have a bad day -> my mood plummets -> rinse and repeat. at this point i think it might be a mental condition bc something doesnt even really have to Ruin My Day, i just have to face a minor inconvenience and then suddenly im all doom-and-gloom depression for 3-5 business days before springing back up as if nothing ever happened to do it all again. my mom says i might have bpd or bipolar disorder (i always get the two confused) because she has it and we just havent seen anyone about it, mostly because we dont have the money to see any doctors most of the time. i also kinda dont wanna have either of them? not in like an asshole way but in a these-people-face-stigma-that-i-dont-know-if-i-can-emotionally-handle way. in a im already queer and fat and poor and disabled in multipled ways and overall unsavory to neurotypicals/cishets/Default Settings way. yknow

todays inciting incident was a shitty shitty halloween carnival that didnt even have the thing i was excited for, didnt have any food, had lines that were miles long (hyperbole), was too hot, and i only got 8 shitty halloween things from -- half of which were lollipops, with half of those just being the same 2 flavors but Again. we stayed for 2 hours before my mom decided she didnt wanna be out of the house anymore as usual. i cant be too mad at her because shes mentally ill in the direction of "i dont want to go anywhere because my anxiety will spike" but unfortunately im mentally ill in the direction of "if i cannot leave the house to Do Things at my own pace at least once a week i will fall into a deep depression" so we clash pretty bad most of the time. this was also following multiple minor inconveniences mind you. and was also trailed by multiple minor inconveniences. it just has not gone well. this halloween is just shaping up to suck bc i was supposed to have a whole party but we had money issues so it had to be cut down to just 2 people for a sleepover, then one of them went out to see his grandma in another state and the other is apparently in the fucking hospital right now??? at least according to his posts. and i cant blame them for these either! schedules conflict and sometimes you go to the Fuckig Hosital. its out of anyones control but it still feels like shit. so its looking like my only shot at having any fun this halloween is the trunk-or-treat at my school and idk if im even allowed to go bc i had to drop out for mental health reasons and they told me i wasnt allowed on school grounds anymore. idk if that applies here. which btw. way to make a depressed kid feel worse. you can NEVER come to this high school again or we'll ARREST YOU. fuckin bullshit. BUT thats off topic the synopsis is that this halloween sucks so far and i dont really expect it to get better which extra sucks bc im turning 18 next year and i dont wanna let this be the last hurrah for my number one favorite holiday. i cant host fucking parties for my friends after then. im gonna be busy trying to fuck off to the other end of the country. i wont have TIME for it. idk. it sucks. this sucks. fuck art and fuck you /ref (reference) /nbh (nobody here)

Ik you don't want advice for this so I'll just put it on the blog.

And idk if you want it but here's a tea

☕

[weabooweedwitch]

I say this as someone who's followed you for years and with as much kindness as possible:

Get the fuck away from your mother. Ditch her fuckin ass. She's repeatedly making things worse and refuses to learn. You need to get away from her, for your own good.

I know I might be repeating what other people have said, or even what you have thought of doing, but holy shit this bitch is actively ruining your life through sheer stupidity.

I hope things get better

I feel bad that people have to keep giving me this kind of advice because I realize it's the most obvious answer, and there are multiple reasons separating from my mother would be good for us both. I feel bad that i keep sharing all these worrying stories and worrying people and then at the end of the day, I'm way too scared to actually try and fix things. I just worry so much about not being able to take care of myself, not being able to drive, what if I go somewhere and it's harder if not impossible for me to get to work, just. I worry about everything. Honestly the thing that worries me the most is keeping my job or not being able to transfer if I went somewhere else. My wage is currently $19 an hour, my 58 yo mom was making $22, so like, I'm helping hold it all together with rent BECAUSE of that income. I'm so scared of losing that.

I've had people ask if there's any family I can go to and the only possible option would be maybe my father who is in another state, I cannot remember if it is in Illinois or Missouri (ugh, they may have passed recreational weed but thats the only good thing thats came outta thar state in like the last 2 decades). And I don't know if that would be good either. But it's an option I'm beginning to consider. But I am sort of still in the reconnecting process with my dad and we've butted heads a few times and he also has his own physical and emotional issues. Actually I think he is where I inherited a lot of mental illness from because he also has an anxiety disorder and we are almost positive he has equinus like me. He also has developed type 2 diabetes and I am really bad with sugar impulse control, what if I hurt my dad because I can't stop bringing sweets into the house and he eats them too 🥺

It just. Personally makes me hate myself to even think of "hiya pops, we've barely spoken in the last 10 years, I've been really ahitty about talking to you consistently since we've said hi again and lost my temper with you a few times, hey I know you're on a fixed income and out of a job right now (or was, maybe he has one now, we've spoken so little idk) but is it OK if I come live in your house as a whiny codependent barely functioning weed addict of an adult?" 😅

But yeah I just. This is really. It just never ends. I keep fighting myself and beating myself up on "who's right, am I right, am I wrong, am I overreacting, whats going on, what do I do, someone tell me what to do because I'm too stupid to do things right" and it's just. I also still love my mother even if that love is being increasingly mixed with resentment. I worry about her ability to take care of herself because her health is getting worse and, like, I worry about her mentally a lot. Like this tooth infection she has, is because she doesn't have the best dental hygiene, and had fillings and such, and even after needing fillings still takes shit care of her teeth, and was putting off getting like broken teeth and such taken care of, and, they're now having to pull SEVEN of her back teeth. She'll need dentures to eat certain foods now. And I'm not better, I basically stopped brushing my teeth for many years because I literally expected to be dead before they rotted out of my mouth and now I'm scrambling to adopt that routine again, and also like.

Sorry but my mom and a dentist literally lied to me when i was a little girl and said i had several cavities because they thought i would be scared into brushing my teeth and all that did was convince me everything was pointless and needed to give up since it was already damaged, and she refuses to apologize or even acknowledge how that literally helped me develop a complex and felt helpless when SHE LIED TO ME, A CHILD, HER CHILD (and also i think my difficulty keeping routines is a combination just needing to apply myself and having adhd issue because like, I've been pretty good with my skincare at least)

I just. I love her but I hate her. If I'm not careful to keep myself calm I'm going to escalate to the physical level. And to be honest I've had the opinion for many years that, all those times my mom told extremely age inappropriate stories to little tiny baby Miranda about her experiences with assault and domestic violence, even as a kid I would think, "well you like don't listen, you shut people down, you insist youre always right, I want to hit you all the time too, maybe it wasn't them but maybe you got yourself hit by constantly pushing everyone around you to their breaking point" like clearly that's not a healthy thought to have and I. I am kind of convinced at this point that almost every single bad thing that had ever happened to this woman was her own fault in some way shape or form. But you could also say that about me

What's scary is that I can't even think of going anywhere without having savings first and I'm constantly being pushed to my limits to the point I don't HAVE any savings, it's all getting sucked up. I dunno how else I can get out of this pit and I'm just, mentally worn down from any entire life of this. I feel useless and exploited at home and then I go to work and feel useless and exploited at work and by society. Like. Life feels so bleak. My Canadian friend is getting in worse health. I still have a lot of affection for him but he's also uh done and said a few things I really disagree with on personal levels and it, gives me some pause, like. I genuinely am so sad all the time. I need to go back to the psychiatrist to get some medicines again but, I am working and making enough money that after my state insurance expires in October, I'll have to go through my work, and that doesn't 100% cover everything so, j wouldn't be able to afford anything at that point

Just. Ugh. I try to write down my thoughts and listen to music and try to write on my other blog to cheer myself up but I just. What can you do right. What am I good for. What is anyone good for. What is this world itself good for. Our entire species is gonna go extinct with climate change anyways. Why should I keep struggling and suffering like this when it's. Idk. Arguably all for nothing. We'll all be nothing more than just dogs following commands and paying bills until we die

[your-subby-creature]

Honestly after I sent that ask I went to go sit down and draw horny stuff to get it out of my brain 😭 I can't edge for very long either but I might try no touch... and hypno! I've never properly tried it, so I'll definitely be giving your recommendations a listen. You may be stuck in denial Creature, but you seem to be corrupting me further <33

Speaking of corruption, I've never actually been teased before like I was in your message and it instantly made my brain feel all fuzzy 😖 I had to take a minute to remember what I was doing-

Awww you're so sweet! I paint more than draw, but I've definitely made a couple horny paintings in my day. I'd love to see if you're open to showing, otherwise I hope it helped! It's always a bit of fun for me even if I haven't done horny painting in a while, maybe I should again soon sometime!

In terms of corruption, if a little teasing and suggestion is all it takes to get you this far, I'd say you were pretty corrupted already! That isn't to say I'm not eagerly waiting to make it worse, though! Hypnosis is a fuckin blast, my only advice for your first trance is don't *try* to fall into trance. Get out of your own way and treat it like horny meditation, just chill out and listen and follow. Your brain will get trained over time, and trying to force it to do anything only distracts you and stresses you out. Additionally, if you find you enjoy it, it is essential to look into hypnotic safeties! Miss Lilith has one on her site that's pretty good, but there are plenty around!

Lastly, I'm overjoyed that you liked my teasing, that I got you a little fuzzy. Though I may be a sub, I'm also an incorrigible tease with a way with words if I have the motivation to be, and you're certainly motivating me. If you need more, don't hesitate to pop into my messages, I'm always happy to make you feel all needy and brainless. Maybe you could make me needy and brainless too! That sounds like a fair trade, don't you think? <3

Thank you for the lovely response, and I hope you have a wonderful (and hopefully horny) night :^)

-your Creature

[lokis-army-77]

To add to my rant. Also, be warned. I used my voice to text, and it likes to put periods where periods should not go. And it also can't understand my country accent, sometimes.

I just don't understand how these people are the way that they are. Like I grew up in the church the same as you, but somehow I can see through all of the deception and the weirdness and the blatant lies? You say you can't trust everything you hear. So you need to go research for yourself, but when I do that and I come up with an answer that doesn't follow the bible.You say i'm radical and a devil worshipper, and it makes no sense. Like, i'm just doing what you told me to do, apparently, you don't follow your own words of advice. Because you are blindly following a 2000 plus year old set of texts that were never written together and have been compiled over hundreds of years and translated from 3 different languages into other languages. And then translated again, and there's 20 billion versions of the Bible because no one can agree on anything. And you think that that's a primary source document, even though there's so many changes. As a historian, it is insane that anybody would ever look at a book and live their life through that book knowing.That it's gone through revisions and everything, and your only excuse is that the bible says that you're not allowed to take or add to it??? Like be fucking for real right now.

And don't even get me started on people thinking that having the bible in the government is a good idea. Do you know how many people I have had to tell that the founding fathers? Either one didn't believe in God. Two weren't christians or three were christians, but i've literally had been stated, saying that the bible has no place in government or in policy making? Like google is free and you can look up the quotes with primary source documentation that thomersonJefferson didn't give a fuck if god wasn't in the government and benjamin franklin didn't really care about going a fuckin church, we all know this man went to france and was hoein it down with the french whores.

I'm gonna fucking lose my mind.

I know this probably doesn't make sense, and there might be spelling. Errors, but I used by voice to text and it likes to put periods and words.I didn't say where I didn't say them.

[carmenized-onions]

hi! this isn't related to chicago's kindest (which is amazing btw, can't wait to read ch. 6) but i saw that you're in film/tv and i'm wondering how that's going for you!! i've always been passionate about film but i'm not currently pursuing it in school, so i wanted to know what you're currently doing with that (if you're comfortable sharing) or if you can give any insight to people looking into going to school for that industry!!

Oh my lovely lovely summer child.

I'm gonna tell you a bunch of shit. And you're gonna do me a favour, you're gonna listen to none of it. You're going to completely ignore any advice anyone gives you, and you're gonna do what the fuck YOU wanna do. Not everything has panned out perfect for me, but I will never ever ever regret pursuing film, and I have every intention of coming back to it on an actual career stand point.

Right now, I'm not in film or tv (career wise. I stay fuckin' writing my scripts tho, it's vv important to do that on the side). Alas. Such is life. I do admin. Cute lil' desk job. I like it. The people are nice, as are the hours, as is the idea of consistent cash flow.

Film for a lot of people is either gig based or teetering on being laid off if you've got a permanent position or a union job that, if you're being honest with yourself, you are scared it's gonna become dead end. That's right out of school, at least. That's probably gonna be like, the first 5-10 years. I'm only on year 2. It's fucking hell. It goes by slow and you feel like everyone is succeeding more than you. I want you to know, they're not. You're not falling behind-- My mentor, a prolific director/writer (like worked with Netflix and shit) said so, so it's not just me saying so.

We're amid strikes and union busting and revolutions-- It's so complicated, rn. And honestly, I got my degree in the pandemic-- The entire industry is absolutely still feeling the effects of that. I'd also add here, while I think my information is vague enough to go for all of North America-- I am Canadian. So if you live in a major U.S city like Chicagooooo or New York or Los Angeles-- You're going to have a radically different experience than I am in Toronto.

If you feel comfy DMing me, we can chat more about your interests! I love film, I love to write-- I love to direct. That's what I did in school, and I'll be damned if I don't do that shit again. But those things do take time to be allowed to do professionally.

The best advice I can give you: When you're in school-- Socialize. Do your best on student films, because if you beef it it goes around FAST. I had a fantastic reputation in Film College ngl, and it served me extremely well. Keep up your connections.

Get a good consistent job that gives you a schedule you can work with, then work on your own film shit on the side. Get weird. Stay learning. I'm gonna start going to local improv because that's what all the writer's i've known do. And they have careers now. So. Yknow.

Things I wish I did different:

I fucking hate applying to festivals, but you have to do it, i'm so sorry.

Every. Summer. Apply for an internship. Any internship. Any film internship, rather.

You will be okay if you study a little bit less and spend time with your peers a little bit more. That didn't neccessarily impact where I am now-- But it's just something that looking back i'm like... I didn't need to take these notes... I shoulda went to that party my friends begged me to join.

And if you want bluntness? My classmates who took production management/producer courses? They're all the ones with consistent film jobs now. But like. Again. Do what the fuck YOU want. Don't follow the money, it won't end up feeding you.

This was a lot, but again, feel free to DM me if you want even more deranged ramblings. I'm happy to go into more personal detail-- It's honestly vv important that you go to a film school that's actually fuckin' WORTH SOMETHING-- Because a lot of them are snake oil. I love/hate my College tho. Love them because I learned more than I would anywhere else. Hate them because that was psychological torture everyday I think I had a panic attack like 3 times a week.

LOVE YOU HOPE THIS WAS USEFUL GOOD LUCK BABY!!!

[wittyrosebush]

Dream SMP Reacting to a Witch!Hybrid

Pronouns: they/them

Includes: Dream, Quackity, Wilbur, qnd Tommy (PLATONIC)

Warnings: Meantion of drugs, swearing

A/N: This is based off of the canon characters and is set in the time of the Pogtopia/Manburg war!!! I might write a second part if this goes well. Also, this is the first thing I have written for this fandom, so I hope I get the character personalities correct. This is not beta read, so please don't attack me on my poor grammar skills. 😅

I hope you all enjoy!!! 💙

Dream

He was mining when he first met you

Dream heard a malicious cackle on the dark side of the cave and slowly drew his sword

He decided to charge towards the strange noise and was quickly met with an invisible body under him

He furrowed his brows and felt the body shuffle out from under him

"BEGONE STRANGE MAN"

"... excuse me?"

After a moment, Y/N's potion has worn off

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-"

Dream chuckled and put away his sword, deciding the person in front of him wasn't a threat

After Y/n calmed down, the two had a talk, explaining the situation

Turns out, you had thought of a joke while mining for redstone (hence the laughter)

"So where is your hat and huge nose? You are really attractive for a witch."

"Luckily, I got my attributes from my father. What was that last part?."

"Wait, what about your hat?"

"I haven't done laundry in a few days.... hold up did you just say I was attractive?"

Ever since then Dream has had you by his side partly because he is a little clingy creating potions for him and the rest of the dream team

"How do you feel about cursing children?"

"I'm not that kind of witch, Dream."

"But what if he was being a little blonde bitch?"

"DREAMWASTAKEN I SWEAR TO GOD-"

Loves bringing you stuff to use for your projects

Need blaze rods for a new brewing stand? Done.

Need lapis lazuli so you have a chance for better communication? Done.

Anything you want? Done.

He will literally go to the nether for a few hours and come back with his arms full of whatever you need

And if you don't need anything or just need to take a break, he'll spend the day taking you anywhere that he think you would be happiest

He has you make him a lot of potions, bragging to everyone on the server how much better at creating potions you are

"Y/n's potions last longer, are more effective, prettier-"

"Are you sure? I think-"

"Tell me what you think, I fuckin dare you >:( ."

Overall, he is your #1 supporter

Quackity

The day had been long, dealing with Schlatt definitely tires a guy out after 5 minutes

On his walk on the outskirts of the Manburg wall, he spotted a suspicious row of blaze powder leading to the woods

Dawning his armor and a sword, he followed the trail to a small hut

He could see the outline of someone in the hut nervously pacing around

Deciding what he thought was the best possible option, he knocked on the door of the hut

There was immediately the sound of glass bottles falling on the floor and muffled words

Soon, the door swung open to reveal a disheveled being with a nervous grin

And Quackity went from tough to awkward

"C-Can I help you with something?"

"Uh, do you waNT SOME DRUGS?"

"ExCuSe Me?!"

Everything was going to shit

After a moment of awkward staring, a glass bottle tumbled off the brewing stand

Upon focusing on what was going on behind the two people trying and failing to act normal, they both saw that every brewing stand was on fire

"ARE YOU ACTUALLY MAKING DRUGS?!"

"NO I'M JUST REALLY BAD AT THIS POTION."

Finally putting the fire out together, the two looked at their now soot stained clothes

The witch hybrid ran a hand through their hair and sighed

"Well this is completely ruined."

Quackity frowned a little hesitant to offer his help

"If you need to you could borrow some brewing stands-"

"Really? *-* "

On the walk back to Manburg, you explained who you were

Quackity was still a little confused

"Wait but what potion were you even brewing?"

"Fire resistance."

He immediately burst out laughing, which ended up with you slapping his arm repeatedly

Eventually, you two became the definition of the "friends to lovers" trope

You often helped him de-stress after stressful days in office with Schlatt

He'd try whatever you recommended

"I'd suggest putting quartz on your nightstand."

"Cool!"

Later that night, you forgot something at his house

Once you walked into his house, you could see stacks of quartz next to his bed.

He really trusted any advice you could give him

And on days where people would criticize you for being part witch?

Big Q will attack anyone

Even if he knows he will lose

And at random parts of the day he'll just tell you oddly inspirational thoughts

"You are a bad bitch, dare I say a bad witch. Own that shit."

"That is oddly motivational, thank you. :) "

Wilbur

The former president was strolling along the side of a river, trying to form a coherent plan of action

Upon noticing a person trudging out of the water fumbling with glass bottles, Wilbur jogged over to them and put a careful hand on their shoulder

"Are you okay?"

The person moved the soggy hat out of their face and smiled

"Yeah, I just fell in the water while trying to fill up some of the bottles, but thanks for checking on me!"

He hummed in response, wondering why he was already so interested in the being before him

"Well I should probably get going, but thank you!"

"Wait! What's you name?"

"It's Y/n, and you are..?"

"Wilbur Soot, it was an honor meeting you, Y/n."

This man spent the rest of the night thinking about you and who the hell you were

He didn't know much about the mysterious person, but he did know that they were one of the most alluring people he had met in a long time

It was weeks since he saw you, Wilbur nearly gave up searching

That was until you walked into him on a rainy day

The brunette immediately went in defensive position and pulled the stranger to his chest, despite the dampened clothes

"Um, Mr. Soot?"

He looked down to see you and his face lit up

"Y/n! It's a pleasure to see you again."

He took a small step back and kissed your hand

No one can convince me that Wilbur "Gentleman" Soot does not flirt by giving hand kisses

The two went into Pogtopia and Wilbur almost immediately wrapped his coat around you

"What were you doing out there? The rain is coming down so hard you must not have been able to see well."

"I was going to ask if I could borrow a few golden carrots for a potion I'm making."

Wilbur nodded and walked towards the stared and whisper shouted down

"TOMMY BRING ME SOME GOLDEN CARROTS!"

"BUT WILBUR, I-"

"PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME LOOK BAD IN FRONT OF THE STUNNING WITCH!"

The boy at the bottom of the stairs grumbled and the tall man sat next to you once more

After a few minutes of Wilbur fawning over everything you did, a blonde male walked up the steps and glared at Wilbur as he handed you the carrots

"Simp..."

Wilbur dramatically gasped as you chuckled next to him

You eventually started coming over to Pogtopia practically every day

Most of the time it was to see Wilbur, but the rest of your time was spent creating potions for the war

As the nation grew, you were brought out of your shell more with Wilbur introducing you to everyone

He didn't want you to feel uncomfortable in a new place

You often walked along the same riverbank where you met

You have definitely pushed each other off a few times

He keeps small things that you enjoy on him at all times

He keeps a tiny bottle of sand from the river you met at, a piece of your old robe, and so much more in his pockets

Whenever he feels like he's in a dark place or justneeds to ground himself he takes out one of the items and just holds it close.

Mans is so in love

Tommy

He met you in the nether while you were farming netherwart

The blonde was thrilled to find a new fortress and decided to raid it before reinforcements came

Seeing a sleeping figure next to a bed of sould sand, he took a few congident steps forward

Once close enough, he poked you with the stick

"You good?"

"I was good when I was asleep."

"AYE I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD SO-"

After arguing for what felt like hours, you both stormed off to find both exits being blocked by wither skeletons

Tommy had gotten beaten up pretty bad after the fight so you took him back to your hut to get all patched up

"I didn't even need your help. I'm tougher than I look."

"You legitimately passed out twice on the way here."

"HOW DARE YOU, I WAS RESTING MY EYES!"

After a few hours of healing and a ton of laighter, you two became the most chaotic duo in the smp

This british raccoon child would often steal small potions to pull pranks

But unless they were really important and you needed them back, you'd always join in on the pranks

He tried to get you to make a potion using the 'Tubbo Bath Water' one time

It did not end well

At the point in your friendship where you revealed you were a hybrid, Tommy was so confused

"That makes no sense, witches are still humans, right?"

"Yeah..?"

"So how does that make you a hybrid?"

👁👄👁

"Listen here you little shit-"

He likes to show you off to anyone that can listen

"You think you're special? HA! I have a best friend that is part witch and they will kick your ass. >:)"

He is really interested in everything you do but will never ask

But if you tell him about what you're doing unprovoked?

Tommy would get so happy

He is so excited to learn what you have to teach and would be one of the best friends ever

[abundanceofnots]

The door to the darkened alley next to the Alibi Room opens behind him, letting out a jumble of voices and loud music. Mickey expected Ian to find him there sooner or later. That’s why he’s so surprised to see that it’s not his husband pushing the heavy door open with his hip, his hands occupied by holding two glasses of beer, but Tami, his—

Well, whatever they are to each other.

Strangers, mostly. Both holding the title of Gallagher family appendages—the husband and the baby mama—who occasionally shared a laugh over some Gallagher bullshit. But that has always been as far as their relationship went.

“Occupied,” he informs her curtly before he takes another drag of his cigarette.

Tami smiles, undeterred.

“I was actually looking for you,” she explains as she lets the door close behind her, cutting the sounds from the inside to mere thumps again.

“Look, if you’re already tired of your baby daddy’s dick, I can’t say I blame ya, but you’ll have to find someone else because, on principle, I don’t fuck Lip’s sloppy seconds—”

Tami makes a face. “Jesus fuck. Is that really the only reason you can think of why I might want to see you?”

His eyes dart around her head of hair as he tries to look at anywhere but her, suddenly feeling very tense.

“Yeah?”

“Well, fuck you, too. No, here, listen.” She passes him one of the beers. “I saw the way you looked back in there and thought you might wanna talk.”

Mickey’s felt sick all evening. Ever since their big announcement when Ian threw his arm around Mickey’s shoulders, squeezed him tight, and gave him that blinding grin before he told everyone the good news.

There was clapping and noise, so much fucking noise. People were reaching out their hands to tap him on the shoulder or shake his hand, and it made Mickey feel like those hands were all grasping his throat while his blood was pumping in his ears.

His plan was to spend the rest of the party here, where he could breathe again, chain-smoking his way through the ordeal. He thinks he’ll be sick if he drinks anything right now, but he takes the glass from Tami anyway.

“About?” he shoots back noncommittally.

“Why you’re scared.”

On instinct, Mickey scoffs out a laugh. “Fuck off, I ain’t scared.”

“Right,” Tami replies, giving him a pointed look over the rim of her glass as she takes a sip. “That why you’re hiding out here during your own party?”

“Just needed to—” Groaning in exasperation, Mickey pinches the bridge of his nose and composes himself. “I just needed a second away from everyone congratulatin’ me. Or callin’ me daddy Milkovich. Or fuckin’ Kermit asking if I was gonna be the mom or the dad—” He cuts himself off again, measuring Tami with a hard stare. “What’s it to you, anyway?

She responds with a sincere smile.

“Believe it or not, I was scared of having a baby, too.”

Mickey’s brows furrow in confusion. “That why you decided to have another?”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not scared anymore.”

“Sounds fuckin’ stupid.”

“Maybe,” Tami admits with half a shrug.

They spend the next few minutes in silence, Tami drinking her beer and Mickey finishing his smoke, his own beer left untouched.

“But you’re a chick, you know, so it’s different,” Mickey states resolutely after he lights another cigarette, confident he’s found an argument she couldn’t dispute. “You have, like, all those motherly instincts and shit. I don’t.”

For some reason, she snorts and shakes her head. Then, her expression softens again, and she says, “I have it on good authority that there’s one little boy who basically worships the ground you walk on.”

“He’s five. Fuck does he know,” he retorts back derisively, immediately chastising himself because Freddie knew a lot, in fact. Most importantly, how to get underneath Mickey’s skin.

Not that he didn’t love and pester Ian just as much, obviously. Everyone loved Ian, the charming motherfucker. But Mickey and the kid had a special bond, much to Lip’s irritation.

Freddie was one of the main reasons Mickey decided that he was ready to have kids all those months ago. He isn’t so sure of it now, though.

He takes another drag and lets the smoke out through his nose.

“I never thought I’d be this,” he explains ambiguously, not just meaning being a guy who gives enough shit to smoke outside a bar. “Always knew how to survive. I was good at that. I was gonna see forty, most of it behind bars, maybe fifty, if I was lucky enough and didn’t lose a fuckin’ limb at some shitty construction job. And then, one day, I wake up to a tire iron to my spine—”

“If that’s a metaphor, I don’t follow.”

“—and next thing I know, I have a whole ass husband, a fuckin’ condo on the West Side like some yuppie, and I catch myself sayin’ things like, fuck it, let’s have a kid. What’s wrong with me? I can’t fuckin’ do this, can I?”

The truth he’ll never admit to anyone, probably, is that Tami’s right. He is scared. Fucking terrified, really. Because there’s a kid who will have him for a dad, and Mickey feels sorry for it.

The poor bastard isn’t even a proper baby yet. It’s just a sonogram stuck to their fridge. A baby-like matter that Ian’s app insists is the size of cauliflower now. When Mickey finally managed to spot one in Whole Foods, he found himself apologizing to it for some bizarre reason.

He doesn’t want to be like his dad. He wants to do this right, but he doesn’t know if he knows how.

“The most important thing?” Tami breaks the silence then, reading Mickey’s reaction correctly even when he doesn’t say anything. “You don’t bail on this kid. Or Ian, because he’ll need you to be there just as much.”

Mickey bites his cheek and nods. There’s a chance he’d say more, ask Tami for advice even, maybe, if, at that very second, Ian didn’t come out to join them, bursting out of the alleyway door as if summoned.

“There’s the pops-to-be!” he cheers a little too loudly with a smile that splits his whole face. He stumbles forward on clumsy feet and envelops Mickey tightly in his arms. “I was looking for you.”

“Fuckin’ octopus-man,” Mickey laughs, careful not to let the drunk idiot spill his beer. “How much did you have to drink?”

“Just a couple beers,” Ian answers as he nuzzles into Mickey’s neck.

“Such a fuckin’ lightweight.”

Humming his agreement, Ian snags Mickey’s glass and knocks down most of its contents in one go. He belches before saying in a low voice, “I was planning on dragging your ass to the bathroom later and having my way with you, but since we’re already here, alone...”

He already has his free hand palming at Mickey’s dick over his jeans when Tami makes a sound behind him, something between a snort and a cough.

Ian’s eyes take a minute to properly zero in on her.

“Tami! Hey!” he greets her with exaggerated excitement. “You’re here, too. Why are you here, too? Something wrong?”

Tami looks pointedly at Mickey. “Wanna tell him, or should I?”

He seriously considers being honest for a second, but his next words are out before he can stop them.

“Your brother’s girlfriend was tryna jump me.”

Tami almost chokes on the incredulous huff of laughter she lets out. She finishes her beer and shakes her head, staring Mickey down.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Mickey, I swear to God. Forget I ever said anything,” she barks at him as she goes for the door.

“Hey, Tami,” Mickey stops her last minute. “Thanks, or whatever.”

Tami rolls her eyes. Still, just before she slips back inside, she throws a quick smile over her shoulder.

“Did you just thank her for trying to fuck you?” Ian inquires stupidly when the door closes behind her.

“Sure,” Mickey sounds off without further explanation.

He turns back to his husband and lightly pats his cheek, letting his hand slide all the way down to his junk in hopes of pointing his attention in the right direction again. “So, about those plans you had—“

But all of a sudden, Ian’s white as a sheet, giving him a look of absolute horror.

“What?” Mickey asks, mirroring his look.

“Think I’m gonna puke.”

“’ Course you are,” Mickey has enough time to groan before Ian bends in half and proceeds to throw up on the sidewalk.

Mickey takes a few steps away, trying to give Ian some privacy, but he’s stopped by a hand clutching his wrist and pulling him back.

“I’m so sorry, Mick,” Ian says in between spits as his hand slides down to hold Mickey’s awkwardly.

“Hey, that’s okay,” Mickey tells him gently—just as gently as he strokes his back in big circles. “I’m here.”

[boldlyvoid]

New Romantics | Part Four

18+

Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.

Categories: Fake dating, neighbours, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, Angst with a happy ending, Smut *as selected by my poll on what you wanted to read*

Warnings: Season 9 Spencer (no Maeve arc), Angst, kissing, drinking, police training mentions, case details, canon typical violence, self-doubt, autistic!spencer, age gaps (24/33), FWB relationships, anxiety attacks, crying, misunderstandings, oral sex (both), penetrative sex, Perv!Spencer low-key, public sex, quickies, multiple orgasms,

Word Count: 5k

a/n: what could possibly go wrong next?

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | epilogue

She’s been asleep barely 2 hours when he shakes her awake, “Hey, when did you need to get ready today?”

“Uh?” She sits up and rubs her eyes, “we don’t have to leave until 1 so, like 11?”

“It’s 8:30, did you want to stay and sleep more?”

She looks at him and sighs, “are we okay?”

He nods, “can we just call it even?”

“Sure,” she agrees without knowing what she did wrong. It was more than just snapping on Tuesday, which is what she was still hurt over. “But I’m going to go, I need to change and stuff.”

“Yeah,” he nods but his smile is sad and she knows she’s fucking it up more.

She gets out of his bed, once it was the warmest bed she’s ever known. Any bed she shared with him was, but now it felt cold and uninviting and there was an unspoken knowingness that they were both genuinely upset.

“I’m still your fake girlfriend for the next 24 hours… can we make them count?” She asks, avoiding eye contact so he can't see her cry if he says no.

“Come here?”

She gets back into the bed and she cuddles into his chest. He holds her for a moment, “you’ve been the best girlfriend in the whole world. Do you really still want to be friends after this? Have I fucked up that bad?”

“Oh honey,” she places a hand on his cheek and looks at him softly, “I will be your neighbour, your best friend, your co-worker, carpool buddy, coffee friend, girlfriend, whatever you need as long as you’d like to have me around.”

He remembers the first time she said that and she knows because his smile is the same. “I love you.”

It hurts, “I love you, too.”

She kisses him quickly, attempting to pull back when his fingers grip her hair and his tongue is on her lips and she’s following his lead again.

“No,” she whispers, “I can’t.”

“Oh,” he stops and his hands drop to his sides so she can get back up.

“I’m going to go get ready, but I’ll come back when I’m done?”

“Yeah,” he nods again.

It breaks her heart to get up and go, she grabs her shoes and she sneaks out of his room, finding her keys in her pocket, she opens her own door and cries the second the door closes.

She cries in the shower, she cries while fixes her hair, she cries while she has lunch. Every song reminds her of the situation, every section of her apartment reminds her of him, the stupid door where they first kissed is closed and she wishes he was stable enough to bang on it and demand an answer.

Whatever was going on between them was reaching a bubbling over point, she can only store so much emotion before she explodes on him.

As soon as she is in her dress, makeup on and ready to go, she walks into his apartment to find him struggling with his bowtie, it makes her smile for the first time since she left his room this morning, “need help?”

“Yes, please.”

She walks over to him and repeats the same movements he attempted, making the bow look pretty before smoothing her hands over his dress shirt and looking up at him. “Handsome as ever.”

“You’re always beautiful,” he compliments her right back but his voice is still as sad as the night before.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on in there?” She pries, tapping his temple with her index finger, “you’re my best friend and I don’t like seeing you sad.”

“I heard what you said yesterday,” he whispers, “about how if you were just using someone you would have picked Derek.”

“And?” She doesn’t get why it’s a big deal because it makes perfect sense to her in her mind.

“And it hurt me,” he snaps, “quite a lot!?”

And the dam breaks.

“Because I proved to them that I’m not using you? Spencer do you know what I meant by that?” She snaps right back.

“What else could it mean?! Clearly I’m not hot enough for you to just fuck and toss aside—”

“I meant that I love you and that’s why I’m with you! If I was just using someone for a job then I’d fuck Derek cause he’s a one and done, toss them to the side and never see them again, kind of guy!”

“And?” He repeats her word choice in a snippy tone that makes her furious but she knows he’s just trying his best to understand her.

She sighs loudly and obnoxiously, “and you’re a take him to meet your mom, marry and have his babies, love him for the rest of your life and one day scatter his ashes, kind of lover.” Crying by the end, she wipes her tears and tries to stay somewhat presentable-looking.

He’s silent, eyes wide as he takes in all her words, “I have always loved you,” she adds, “and no matter how fucking angry I am or how stressed or upset, I am never going to stop loving you, Spencer.”

“Me either,” his tone is still just as upset, “and that's the part that sucks.”

“What do you mean?” She just poured her heart out to him and he still doesn’t get it.

“I LOVE YOU!” He screams it at her with his hands thrown in the air, “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire fucking life and it’s driving me crazy!”

“It’s driving you crazy?” She can’t help but laugh like she’s losing her mind, “I have been doing everything in my power to make you understand that I love you and you keep thinking I just want to be friends!”

“Because you said you loved me like a friend the first time?!”

“No, I fucking didn’t!” She is so frustrated she’s turning the same colour as her dress, steaming from her ears like a cartoon character.

“I asked if best friends can be in love because I wanted to see if you would say you loved me more than that, and then you fucking said “yeah cause that’s how I love you” which means you love me as a friend?!”

“Because I thought that’s what you wanted?!”

She can’t rub her eyes cause she’ll ruin her makeup but she is so mad she just wants to scream. Pressing her fingers to her own temples, she turns away from him and sighs, she loves him so much and yet this is the most frustrating thing that’s ever happened.

“You are so lucky,” she just laughs, shaking her head back and forth as she turns back to him, “you are so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Why?”

She wraps her arms around his middle and looks up into his eyes with one last sigh, “we have to go or we’ll be late, so I can’t explain all of my feelings right now, so let’s bench this conversation and I can show you just how much I love you when we get back?”

“Okay,” he nods. He rests his hands on her arms and he looks down with the softest glance, he’s still trying so hard to not cry. “I’m really sorry.”

“So am I, I should have listened to you better and explained myself more,” she whispers, “do you believe me now?”

He nods, “I told you, it’s hard for me.”

“I tried my best to be subtle so I didn’t scare you off, but I guess you really don’t do subtle?” She can’t help but laugh, “but I really do love you.”

His hands are on her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss, she melts against him. He breathes her in, it’s the longest and deepest kiss she’s ever had and she honestly feels like he’s taking her soul and making her his. She belongs to him and she knows it, now he does too.

“I love you, too.”

—

All eyes are on her and it makes him smile, she’s the only one in a red dress in a room full of black and white, she stands out like a sore thumb. She looks the most beautiful, she stands beside Spencer with her arm wrapped around his and a huge smile on her face, it makes him even happier to see her smile again.

The hardest part of fighting with her was knowing she was upset and that he was only making it worse. Seeing her smile return is everything to him, he loves her more than words can express and she loves him right back, he can tell by the way she smiles at him; because it’s exactly the same way he’s smiling at her.

“I see that you’ve made up,” Derek interrupts their current dance to say hello.

The BAU team was always so busy on nights like this, they had all the best stories and everyone wanted to hear them, which meant they typically didn’t see each other a lot for the whole night.

“We did,” Spencer smiles. “Thank’s Derek.”

She looks up at them both, confused, “how many of them know?”

“Huh?” He plays dumb but she can see right through him.

“Do they all know I’m not really your girlfriend or is it just Aaron, Derek and whoever else you told?”

“Elle,” he says her name. “I told the first girl I slept with that I was falling in love with you because I needed advice from someone who has already been with me and knows how I get.”

“Sick, cool, love that for you,” she smiles and walks away.

He grabs her and she stops, “I told you how much it hurt that I had no one to talk to and you told all of them? And you couldn’t even tell me you really loved me this whole time? I thought we were best friends Spencer?” She shakes her head, disappointed more than anything, swatting his hand off her as he reaches to stop her.

“Let her go, she’s right to be a little mad,” Derek holds him back. “let her be mad.”

“Why?” Spencer is so new to relationships he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“She wants to be your girlfriend for real, let her calm down and then go apologize and ask her,” Derek's smile is sweet as he pulls Spencer into a hug.

It slowly becomes a dance, everyone is used to Derek being touchy with his friends, he has danced with everyone so far tonight so it’s only fair Spencer has a turn. Spencer holds him tight, eyes closed so he doesn’t have to think about all the attention he’s been getting since they arrived.

“Thank you for always being here for me,” he whispers, “but I have to go see her.”

“Fights like this just make your relationship stronger, it teaches you how she wants you to communicate, she just wants you to be honest with her, always,” he whispers with his cheek pressed to Spencer's, “and angry make-up sex is really fun.”

It makes him laugh, “thanks, but she won’t be sleeping with me for a few days, if my memory is correct then she’s mad for more than one reason.”

“Ah,” Derek gets it, “good luck my friend. Good luck.”

When Spencer pulls away, he heads in the direction Y/N left and follows the hallway as far as it goes. She’s sitting on a bench by a window, staring off at the night sky as she takes some deep breaths. She looks a little more peaceful, she’s had a really rough few weeks and he’s not making it any easier on her.

“I know two things for sure,” he speaks softly but she still jumps a little as she turns to him.

“What would they be?”

“That you’re the love of my life,” he’s confident as he sits on the bench beside her and takes her hand in his. “And I’m an idiot when it comes to love.”

“That is quite the dilemma,” she smirks, her eyes gleam as she looks at him and he knows she was trying not to cry by how glossy they are, but it makes her more beautiful, somehow.

“I’m really sorry.”

“All you have to do is tell me the truth, Spencer,” she places her hand on his leg and leans in with a whisper, “it’s really simple.”

“Truth is,” he whispers right back, lips close enough to kiss, “I’m never going to stop loving you, which means more stupid moments are in my future. Just so you know.”

She giggles and kisses him quickly, “I don’t mind being the smart one in the relationship, but you still have to ask.”

“Will you be my girlfriend and let me love you for the rest of my life, no matter how much I fuck up and drive you crazy?” He teases her, knowing she’ll say yes regardless.

“On one condition,” she can’t hide the smirk on her face and he’s nervous at what she’s thinking.

“Anything?”

“You let me love you for just as long? If not longer.”

He nods, “forever?”

She nods back before kissing him just as deeply as they did that morning, her hands in his hair as she presses his face into her’s with force. She holds him there and breathes him in, pulling back with a classic smooch sound, she smiles again, “you’re my boyfriend now.”

He nods with a small smile, “what should we do first as boyfriend and girlfriend?”

She bites her lip and pretends to think about it for a moment, “fuck in the linen closet down the hall?”

“I don’t have any condoms on me?” Is his only worry, not getting caught, not that all their bosses and superiors were there, just that he didn’t have a condom.

She pulls one out of her bra with a smile, “Savannah gave this to me about 3 minutes before you came over here.”

“How much make-up sex do they have?” He asks as he takes her hand and leads her down the hallway.

She’s giddy and smiling, her heels click on the floor as they rush to the other end of the hall and open the little door. There are shelves with towels and rolls upon rolls of silverware in cloth napkins. A vacuum in the corner, some brooms and just enough room for them.

She pulls him in closer and shuts the door, reconnecting their lips as she pushes him up against it. Hands reaching for his belt she kisses down his neck and he’s like putty in her hands as soon as she strokes him, he moans by accident and she covers his mouth with her free hand.

“Do you have any idea how turned on you make me? I have wanted to fuck you since I first saw you, 6 years ago…”

“Really?” His muffled voice behind her hand makes her laugh. She removes her hand and instead runs her fingers through his hair while taking a moment to look at him and really take it all in.

“Yeah,” she nods, “which is why I asked to sleep with you on the way home from the bar, I didn’t know if I could handle it either it, but I’ve always wanted Doctor Reid from the BAU to rail me. I just didn’t think we’d end up falling in love?”

“No one has ever admitted to having a crush on me and meant it,” he whispers.

“I’m glad I get to be one of your firsts,” she smiles again before he pulls her into another kiss.

She kisses the side of his mouth and then his jaw, down his neck and then she’s dropping to her knees in front of him. He’s hard in her hands but he twitches as he sees her like this, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes as she strokes him, she flattens her tongue and taps the tip of his cock to it.

He has to cover his own mouth or else he’s going to get them caught, he moans at the feeling, closing his eyes and that's when she takes him in her mouth. His free hand is in her hair, careful not to mess it up but enough grip to steady himself.

He tilts his head back against the door with a knock and a sign, “fuck,” he can’t help but talk into his hand which only makes it sound louder in the tight space.

She feels so good every single time and yet this one feels different, he looks down at her and she pulls off, “what’s wrong?”

“I love you,” he shrugs.

He helps her back up to her feet and she backs up against the shelves, “come here?”

He helps her hike her dress up, holding all the material up as he slips her underwear off and takes that condom back out of her bra with a single kiss to her chest. He rolls it over himself and lines up with her, her arms wrap around his shoulders as she looks at him, “show me how much you love me?”

He slides in and they don’t break eye contact as she takes him, her mouth opens in a silent gasp at the feeling, her hands grip his shoulders tighter as she steadies her ass on a shelf and wraps her legs around him while he bottoms out.

With a hand on her cheek and one on her lower back, he pulls out and thrusts back in with a smile as she bites back a moan, she pulls his face in close to hers to kiss him while he fucks her. The hand on his cheek slides down her neck, applying a small amount of pressure that makes her breathing hitch. She swallows sharply before his hand starts to trail over her breasts and then between them.

With a thumb on her clit, he fucks her a little harder while rubbing his thumb in a circle. She’s breathing heavily into his mouth, placing sloppy kisses against each other as they enjoyed each other.

She’s so close and he knows it, and then there is a knock on the door.

“Spence, we have a case when you’re done?” He hears Derek's voice behind the door and he can’t believe it.

“Okay!” He calls back without stopping, instead, he fucks into her a little faster.

“Oh!” She moans by accident before covering her mouth with a slap and wide eyes, moaning behind her hand as she bounces on his cock.

He kisses her hand, making her move it so he can press his lips back to hers and absorb all the noises she was going to make, her hands both reach for his back, gripping his suit jacket so tight he’s afraid she might rip it.

She cums with a shocked gasp, it’s as quiet as possible but it still echos around them as he gets closer and closer. He buries his face in her neck and accidentally moans as well as he cums, stilling his hips as he holds her there, sputtering his hips against hers as they catch their breath.

“I love you,” he manages to say between breaths, “that much.”

“You need to go,” she smiles.

He kisses her one last time before he pulls out, he loves the way she gasps every time he does so. She smiles after, their teeth clashing as they laugh, “I’m going to get in so much trouble.”

“I’m never going to get a job,” she shakes her head as she gets off the shelf and fixes her dress.

He takes off the condom and wraps it in some paper towel on the shelf, he’ll get rid of it later. She picks up her underwear, he thinks she puts them back on, but she really slides them into his pocket for him to find in the middle of the case when he reaches for something important...

—

She rides back to headquarters with Penelope and JJ, both of them want to ask and she knows it. Mainly because she looks like she’s had sex, and also because she asks to stop at the academy so she can get another pair of underwear from her locker.

It’s not until they’re in Penelope’s office that they ask, “what’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” She plays dumb.

“Dating Spencer?” Penelope says, “more specifically, having sex with him?” She mumbles and it makes Y/N laugh.

“In total, we’ve been having sex for 3 weeks now and I’ve had 21 orgasms, and we only really fuck on the weekends cause that’s when we’re not busy…” she grinds her teeth slightly with a raised brow, taking a deep breath, “yeah. It’s really great.”

“Holy shit?” They both look more shocked than she’s ever seen them. “How many has he had?” Penelope asks with a quiet voice, pretending she didn’t.

She laughs slightly, “like maybe 14? He’s really generous.”

“What the fuck?” JJ turns to Penelope and shakes her head and there’s something more there that Y/N can sense.

“Who’s Elle?” She asks and they both turn to her with the biggest eyes.

“How do you know about Elle?”

“She’s the first person he slept with?”

“When?” They both shout.

“So he wasn’t kidding. You guys really thought he was a virgin this whole time?” She looks at them like they’re crazy. “How?”

They both just shake their heads and sigh, stuttering and looking for words they don’t have. “We just never thought he could?”

“Snooze ya loose, I guess?” She shrugs, “so what is the case and how can I help?”

“Right! We have a case,” Penelope snaps back into it, “but seriously Elle? Are you sure you have your names right?”

“Penelope,” she looks at her seriously.

“Right, they’re headed to Roanoke.”

There was a child abduction of a 6-year-old girl, CARD and the BAU were both called out and that meant everyone was mingling on the two floors and they would use as much help as possible.

It also turns out that Anderson’s surrogate went into labour a little earlier than anyone expected; so he and his husband have left for paternity leave early. Leaving JJ without an assistant and she really needs help in the office for this one.

She catches on rather quickly, knowing the protocols from her training and she’s not afraid to ask questions. She’s still in her dress, her heels click on the tiles as she rushes around with files, making phone calls and running from the briefing room to Penelope’s office.

When they finally crack the case and apprehend the suspect, she sits down finally. It’s been 11 hours since the banquet, and she was exhausted beyond belief. She never slept the night before, Spencer was uncomfortable and she was in her jeans and when she did fall asleep, he was waking her up moments later to get ready.

It's Sunday morning at 9 am when Spencer finally returns back at headquarters. She’s sitting at his desk when he comes up and wraps his arms around her, “we’re going home, come on.”

“Don’t you have to debrief?”

“Did that on the way back,” he turns her around in the role chair and tilts her head up to look at him, she’s so tired and he can tell. “You have a big day tomorrow.”

“Ugh,” she stands up with his help, “I did enough profiling today and now I have a whole week to get through.”

“Just to come back and work here,” he smiles, “if you still want to?”

She wraps him up in a real hug and nods against him, “it’s so fun, even with all the murder.”

“Coming home to this is really nice,” he whispers before kissing her cheek quickly, “I’m glad you like it here.”

“Well, well, well,” Derek's voice is behind them. They pull away to see him smiling, arms wide as he saunters over, “if it isn’t the new romantics.”

“Did you have any suspicions?” Y/N asks, he was a profiler after all.

“I knew something was up,” he’s honest. “I knew you guys were actually doing stuff together, I just didn’t think there was so much angst behind closed doors?”

“You have no idea,” Y/N laughs, holding Spencer closer, “it took too long.”

“I thought you were fighting about the job, cause he wasn’t really upset until you were in Penelope’s office, and I heard the rumours even before he heard what you said,” Derek smiles again, “but I also knew you loved him and he loves you.”

“Correct,” she can’t help but smile. “But we really should head home.”

“Home we go,” Spencer agrees.

—

She asks him to unzip her dress the second they’re back in her apartment. She drops the dress to the floor and heads to the bathroom and he’s left alone in her room. It feels different now. He remembers kissing her in the living room for the first time like it was yesterday, he remembers the first time they had sex, the first time he said I love you, and now he’s here and she’s his girlfriend and he’s going to get to make more memories with her.

He’s so embarrassed by how much he’s been crying lately, something about being in his mid-30s was making him feel like he was about to go through menopause— he has never been very openly emotional, but it’s about time he lets himself feel. He wipes the tears and turns to face the wall while he takes his suit off.

He’s been through too much, a lot of which she doesn’t know of. She has promised him forever, whether she means it or not, and he’s worried he’s going to fuck it up before he gets there.

When she comes back, she lays a towel down on her side of the bed and gets in, “guess who got her period on her first day of work?”

“No?” He gasps, playing along with her playful mood. “At least you’re not pregnant.”

“Thank god,” she sighs, “please for the love of God, don’t get me pregnant for at least 5 years? I want a decent career first so that I don't miss much on maternity leave. I really don't want to be benched for having kids.”

He cries again and she looks so concerned as she gets out of bed and wraps her arms around him, “what did I say wrong, Spencer?”

Still facing the wall, he just lets it all out, “I’m sorry.”

“For what, sweetheart?” She attempts to soothe him by running her hands down his arms, “for crying or something else?”

“Crying,” he whispers and she turns him around then.

“Hey,” she looks up at him with the softest expression he’s ever seen, “you are allowed to have emotions, you are allowed to show them and ask for help and tell me when you need something. I’m not going to think you’re too much, or I can’t handle you or think of you as a burden. I know that’s how you feel because it’s how I fell, and we don’t need to go through that together.”

“I love you,” it’s the only thing that feels right to say.

“I love you,” she repeats it, “what made you cry?”

“Can we get in bed first?”

“Yeah, finish getting ready and then come tell me,” she whispers before reaching up and pressing a kiss to his lips.

He slips away to go to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He’s exhausted but he doesn’t want to miss any time with her. He hurries back to her side, getting into bed in his underwear and making sure both his phones are on the night table, charged and ready if they need him.

But until then, he belonged to her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?” It’s the first thing he asks because he knows she has a big day tomorrow. “It can wait.”

“What’s that thing you say about intermittent sleep is actually better?”

“Don’t use my words against me, I do that so people don’t stop me from doing what I think I deserve,” he’s truthful. “I’m not going to ever lie or fib to you again. I hate myself, and if I don’t feel like I’ve done enough I won't sleep or eat sometimes.”

“I do that too,” she’s not proud, “are you trying to tell me you cried cause you’re hungry or tired?”

“No,” he smiles, “but thank you for asking for clarification, I like this new system.”

“Me too.”

“I cried because I really love you and I’m realizing this is all real and I’m going to get to make good memories with you, and when you said kids, even in a hypothetical sense, it made it feel real for me,” he whispers the words before pressing his lips together awkwardly.

She glows in the lap light like she did that first night, “it’s a weird concept, isn’t it? The future. At some point I’m going to have known you longer than anyone, one day we’ll have lived with each other longer than we’ve lived apart. We might be grandparents together one day? It’s all weird to think about.”

“Do you seriously want all that with me?” He’s asking because he has another question to ask right after.

“Yes, Spencer,” she laughs. “I really do.”

“Would you like to Marry me?”

“Seriously?” Her eyes widen and her jaw drops and he’s never seen her look this stunned before.

He nods, “my mom isn’t going to able to appreciate my wedding the longer I wait, and if you really mean it; I’d like to have a wedding with my mom there while she remembers me.”

“I know her birthday is coming up, but can we bring her here instead?”

“Why?”

“My parents decided to drive from Salam to here for my graduation and use the flight money on a nice Airbnb for the week. We should do it while they’re all here because I don’t know when they’d be able to come back,” she has had the same worries about her parents missing her life.

“I’ll ask my mom,” he smiles. “So we’re getting married?”

“in like a week,” she laughs, “oh fuck, how are we going to do that in a week?”

He rolls over and grabs his personal phone, he dials a number and she looks even more confused now.

“Hey Penelope, how fast can you plan a wedding?”

~

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New Romantics:

@bunny-script @ficsrecsforhrnybitches @ne--yo-pets @rexorangecouny @valerieweasley @beepbooptoop @coldlilheart @andiebeaword @anonymous-reading

[calpalirwin]

The Falcon and the Newlyweds

Summary: After Steve travels back in time to reunite you and Bucky, he retires as Captain America, but you’re just getting started. (aka exactly like TFATWS but better?)

A/N: All credits to original owners/writers of TFATWS series. Added details/characters and minor storyline changes are of my own imagination. 

Word Count: 6.2k

And away, and away we go!

__

Episode 5

When Sam suggested the three of you go find John, you shook your head vehemently. “No. No, I don’t want to,” you whispered.

“Doll, we’re afraid we’re gonna hurt him, too,” Bucky admitted.

You still continued to shake your head. “I-I’m not worried about us… I-”

“Oh…” Bucky said in sad realization. “Oh, doll. You don’t have to be afraid of him. He lost control, and I think even he knows that. He’s still the idiot we hate. And yeah, by the looks of it he managed to snag a vial of the serum, which makes him like me now.” Bucky shuddered at the thought. “But someone needs to find him.”

“I don’t want to…”

“That’s okay. Sam and I can go. We can take you back to the apartment, and then Sam and I can go.”

“No. Bucky you can’t go.”

“I’m not letting Sam go by himself.”

You looked over at Sam, who was standing there with his hands in his pockets. “Look, Y/N. I know you saw an ugly side to John. I get that fear. Okay? I do. Buck used to scare me the way John just scared you. But Buck’s right. Someone has to find him, and it’s better if we do it. And look, throughout all of this, have Buck and I ever let you get close to getting hurt?”

“No…”

“Exactly. And if it makes you feel better, Buck and I will do the talking. Just come with us so we know you’re not alone. Please?”

“Okay,” you finally nodded. “But please don’t fight him if you don’t have to.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that, much less agree with it,” Bucky tried to joke. “Sam, you still got Sharon tracking him?”

“Yeah, c’mon.”

~~~

Sam led the way to a building that was closed off for construction, easily locating John inside. “Walker,” Sam started.

“You guys should see a medic,” John interrupted. “You don’t look so good.” Long gone was the high and mighty tone he usually addressed you all with. His tone was also void of any attitude or malice. It was chilling to see him looking and sounding so void.

“Stop, Walker,” Sam started again, as John started to walk past you all.

“What?” he scoffed, the attitude and raised voice coming out. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!”

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John,” Bucky said simply, keeping his own tone calm to not anger the other man, and cause another outburst of rage. “Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well.” Sage advice from one previously unhinged super soldier to a currently unhinged one.

“I’m not like you,” John insisted.

Bucky gave a sad shake of his head, and you gripped his hand in yours reassuringly. If John didn’t want to listen to someone who’d been where’d he’d been, and under much worse conditions, that was on John, not Bucky.

“Listen,” Sam stepped in. “It was the heat of the battle, okay? If you explain what happened, they may consider your record. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt. John, you gotta give me the shield, man.”

Slow realization swept across John’s face. “Oh… so that’s what this is. You almost got me. I should’ve known when she didn’t have any smartmouthed remarks for me.” His gaze swept over you, chillingly so.

“Mistakes happen,” you said, your voice quiet. “Let them help you so this doesn’t get worse.”

“You don’t wanna do this,” John said, his attention back on Bucky and Sam.

“Yeah, we do,” Bucky responded.

There was a momentary pause as Bucky and Sam looked at each other, and nodded. In a swift movement, Bucky guided you backwards with his arm, then advanced on John with Sam.

Two against one, you watched as Bucky and Sam tried to outfight John, punches and kicks flying in every direction, vibranium fist colliding with vibranium shield. You pressed yourself against a wall, making yourself as small as possible, heart hammering in your chest as you watched the scene unfold.

Any fear you had turned to blood boiling rage when John chucked the shield, nailing Bucky in the chest as sending him crashing backwards as John advanced, Sam lying on the floor from a hit he’d taken.

“Why are you making me do this?!” you heard John scream as he pressed the shield into Bucky, pinning him between the metal and construction vehicle. He grabbed the shield that Bucky had a firm grip on, throwing Bucky sideways across the warehouse.

Seeing red, you quietly reached down to pull out a knife. Aside from the shootout in Madripoor, you never needed to use any of the weapons strategically placed throughout your suit. And despite everything, you didn’t actually want to shoot John, mostly at the risk of missing and hitting either Bucky or Sam. But while John wasn’t exactly in stabbing range, and you weren’t all that amped to get into stabbing range, you could throw it.

With a slow breath, you adjusted the sharp steel in your hand. You took aim, chucking the knife with as much accuracy and force as you could, watching as the blade hurled end over end before sinking into John’s upper thigh, at the very convenient time that Sam flew straight into him. “This isn’t you, John,” Sam breathed heavily as both men stood face to face.

“We could’ve been a team…”

Not liking the way John didn’t appear ready to give up, Sam launched a rope that locked into the shield, engaging in a weirdly combative game of tug of war.

John lost his grip, and the rope came loose, the shield clattering against the ground. If you were fast enough, you could reach out and snag it. But with Bucky still on the ground himself, Sam holding back John for you didn’t inspire much confidence. Especially when both men dove for the shield themselves. But when Sam tackled John away from grabbing it, both men rolling further away from you, and the shield, you took your chance.

“I. Am. Captain America!” John screamed as he pinned Sam down, ripping Sam’s wings off his suit.

“No, you’re not!” you said, charging into John with the shield with all your might. John’s body rolled off Sam’s, and yours rolled with the shield, clinging on to it for all you were worth as you and John both staggered to your feet. “Shit,” you breathed with a happy grin. “That was cool!” Then, your eyes went wide, before you screwed them shut, raising the shield the block John advancing on you. “SHIT!” you screamed, bracing for impact.

The impact however, never came as Bucky jumped into action at the sound of your voice, raining blows down on John. “Don’t! You! Fuckin’! Touch! Her!” Each yelled word was a new hit, as Bucky fought John away from you.

“It’s mine,” John panted like a child who was being forced to share his favorite toy against his will.

“It’s over, John,” Sam told him.

“It’s mine!” John snarled, taking a swing at Bucky.

Bucky blocked it, grabbing the back of John’s neck with his vibranium hand, and punching him in the face with his other hand. “Y/N, shield!” Sam ordered.

Not needing to be told twice, you tossed Sam the shield as Bucky picked up John, and slammed him into the shield, the force of the impact sending all three men crashing to the floor in a chorus of groaned grunts of pain, the shield lying uselessly on the ground once more.

Bucky was the first to recover, grabbing the shield, and rising to his feet. Wordlessly, he walked over to Sam, dropping it next to him. The look on Bucky’s face said more than his mouth ever could, the anger that he had helped Sam get a shield he’d given up so easily needing no reason to be physically voiced. “C’mon, doll,” he said simply, turning and walking out of the building, leaving John and Sam where they lay.

“We’re not gonna leave Sam here, are we?” you asked in a whisper, jogging to keep up with your husband.

“Right now? Yes.”

“Bucky… It’s been a long day. And I know you still have your issues about Sam and the shield, and what it all means to you. But it’s Sam. He’s our friend, and partner whether you want him to be, or not.”

“I know,” Bucky answered you through gritted teeth. “That’s why I’m only leaving him for right now. Now, let’s talk about you, and what you did.”

You sighed. “What? Are you gonna yell at me about how I should have kept my distance? How you and Sam told me not to engage with John, and how I didn’t even want to go in there in the first place, so I’m completely batshit for doing what I did? That I could have gotten hurt, or worse? I know all that, Bucky. So please, spare me the lecture.”

“That was half of it, yes…” he admitted. “But what you did was also incredibly smart, and got Sam the shield.”

You shrugged. “I just got mad, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but it got Sam the shield. And it potentially saved us too. John was… That’s not a fight I’m eager to have again, that’s for damn sure. Between that fight and the one earlier… Knowing that you’re okay, and Sam probably physically feels worse than I do right now is really the only thing helping me feel somewhat okay right now.”

“Well, let’s get back to the apartment, and I’ll patch you up like old times.”

Bucky smiled fondly at long buried memories. “Mmm. Nurse Y/N. I always liked her.”

~~~

“The GRC is conducting raids to try and find Karli,” Sam reported over breakfast the next morning. “But so far, they only found her followers. They’ve searched a camp nearby, and just like the last camp they searched, nothing. She’s gone. We’ll never find her.”

“Hey, you got your sleeve back,” Torres’ voice chirped as he walked into the living room, and you wondered briefly where he’d come from, but you figured he probably arrived when Sam did, and given him the full run down of the GRC’s movements, much like Sam was giving you and Bucky now. Torres pointed at Bucky’s left jacket sleeve, once again reattached to the jacket he was wearing. “No? Yeah… okay then…” Torres said to no one in particular as Bucky stood there in silence, with his trademark stoic stare.

Still silent, and clearly still angry with Sam, Bucky turned on his heel to exit the room. “Are you off to take care of Zemo?” Sam wondered.

“Alright, good to know you survived,” Torres chipped again in a goodbye of sorts as Bucky stalked off down the hallway.

“He’ll come around,” you said as a half-assed apology for Bucky. “He’s… ya know. So, what else do we need to know about the Karli situation? Or the John one?”

Sam shrugged, looking over at Torres. “What’s our next steps?”

“Captain America killing a foreign national in public? It’s kinda like a big deal. Like international incident big. Folks higher up on the payroll are all over it now. So, unfortunately…”

“They’re taking jurisdiction,” Sam guessed.

“Yeah,” Torres nodded, his attention falling to a duffle bag at Sam’s feet that contained the snapped wings of his suit. “What happened to these?”

“So is there anything we can do?” you asked as Torres started examining the duffle bag.

“Not really. As I was telling Sam, they’ve cordoned off the whole camp, and Karli’s a ghost. After what went down, she’s laying extra low. Like under underground.”

“That’s why it makes sense for us to get involved,” Sam said. “The longer we let her regroup, the harder it’s gonna be to find her.”

“She’s got people helping her from all over the world, on all platforms,” Torres pointed out. “She’s really, really good at this thing.” He ran his hands carefully over the splintered wings. “How’d these break?”

“John,” you answered while Sam sighed, taking in all the information Torres was providing.

“Anyways,” Torres went on, “all we can do now is sit tight, and just chill. Sometimes there’s nothing to do, until there’s something to do.”

“That’s bizarrely wise,” Sam said with a small laugh.

“It means we can train,” you interjected. “Be prepared for whatever comes next.”

“The lady has a point,” Torres agreed with you, his eyes flickering longingly to the shield that lay on the table, remnants of the blood John had splattered on his now gone.

“Yeah, alright,” Sam nodded with a smile, looking at you. “Find your husband, and let’s get to work.”

Thankfully, all you had to do was turn your head, finding Bucky stalking back down the hallway with both yours and his suitcases in hand. “B- Oh, hey. We going somewhere?”

“Home. Well. Sam is. You and I are making a pit stop first.”

“So you finally found Zemo?” was Sam’s guess.

“I have an idea of where he might be, yeah.”

“You know, sometimes you still scare me Buck. The staring. The eerily calm voice. It’s creepy, man.”

“You wanna get to work, or not, Sam?”

~~~

The pit stop ended up being Sokovia, Bucky giving you a full rundown as to why he figured Zemo would be there on the flight over. He also told you of the plan he had. And sure enough, as the two of you walked up to the memorial site, Zemo was standing in front of it, his back facing you.

“I thought you’d be here sooner,” Zemo said as you and Bucky got within earshot. “Don’t worry. I’ve decided I’m not going to kill you.”

“Imagine my relief,” Bucky deadpanned, finger clicking the safety of the gun he had ready at his side.

Zemo turned towards you both, unthreatened by Bucky’s action as his attention focused on you. “The girl has been radicalized beyond salvation. I warned you and Sam, but you wouldn’t listen. Just as stubborn as Steve was, the two of you.” His gaze shifted to Bucky. “But you. They literally programmed you to kill. James, do what needs to be done. Karli has people everywhere. And there’s only one way to make sure she cannot continue her mission.”

“I appreciate the advice,” Bucky answered, his face conveying no evidence of whether or not that statement was actually true. “But we’re gonna do it our own way.”

Zemo chuckled at what he believed to be the naivety of Bucky’s words. “Yeah. I was afraid you’d say that.”

The gun in Bucky’s hand clicked again as he loaded what you knew to be nothing, but Zemo rightfully assumed to be a bullet into the chamber, raising his hand, the barrel of the gun mere inches from Zemo’s forehead. Zemo went pale, but kept his composure calm, even nodding at Bucky like he was giving the man permission to pull the trigger.

You watched as Zemo sucked in his breath while Bucky pressed ever so lightly on the trigger. But all that came out of the gun was an empty clicking sound. Eyes still locked on Zemo, Bucky opened his other hand, the bullets clattering to the ground.

Silently, the Dora Milaje walked up, surrounding Zemo. “Ladies,” he greeted, before addressing Bucky one last time. “I took the liberty of crossing my name off in your book. I hold no grudges for what you thought you had to do. Goodbye James. It was nice getting to know you, Mrs. Barnes.”

Two of the Dora Milaje escorted Zemo away, while the third talked briefly with Bucky about their own plans for Zemo. “It would be prudent to make yourself scarce in Wakanda for the time being, White Wolf,” she added as a small warning.

“Fair enough,” he nodded. Then, “Hey. I may have another favor to ask of you.”

~~~

 After your visit with Zemo, you and Bucky headed home.

“Buck said you got a few good ones in on that new Cap guy. Good for you,” Steve smiled proudly.

“I did okay, I guess. Got out better than Bucky and Sam, that’s for sure,” you shrugged in modesty. “Have you heard from Sam?”

“Yeah, he got back a few days ago. But just as soon as he stopped by, he was gone again. Something about seeing the old man in Baltimore?”

“Bradley,” you and Bucky said in unison. “He’s uh… like you and me,” Bucky added as an extra explanation when Steve cocked his head in confusion. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, if that was a few days ago, where’s Sam now?” you asked.

Steve shrugged. “My guess? He went home to see his sister in Louisiana. You guys still not talking after what happened?”

You looked at Bucky, and shook your head. “No. Bucky won’t say it, but he’s still never forgiven Sam for giving up the shield in the first place. And now he’s even more mad he had to help Sam get it back, because-”

“None of this would have happened if he hadn’t given it up in the first place,” you and Steve gave your best Bucky impression together.

“1.) I don’t sound like that. And 2.) I’m right. None of this would have happened if Sam had kept the shield. Not the shit with Walker anyway.”

“But Sam’s still family. And we’re still Avengers. And we still have a job to finish with Karli,” you pointed out.

“What? So you want to go to Louisiana and find Sam?” Bucky asked you.

“That would be a start.”

“Doll, we just got home. Don’t you wanna be home for a bit?”

“Not when there’s still work to be done. And you and Sam gotta put this whole mess behind you once and for all, because all Riga proved was that it takes all three of us working together to take down John.”

“And that barely worked,” he reminded you.

“Which is also why we all need to train together. Not you training me here while Sam does God knows what in Louisiana. We need to be an actual team here, Bucky.”

Bucky sighed. “Alright. I’ll book us a flight first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Why not book it right now?”

Bucky looked at Steve, clearing his throat before leaning in close to your ear. “Because of reasons I can’t say in front of your brother, doll.”

Your eyes went wide and your cheeks turned bright red at Bucky’s insinuation while Steve clapped his hands loudly together. “Okay. I think we’re done here.”

~~~

You’re sure we’re in the right place?” you asked Bucky as you approached a dock crowded with people and supplies.

Bucky only nodded as he climbed in the back of a truck lifting a huge pallet with ease at the same time you heard Sam’s voice wonder “How do we get it off the truck?”

“You’re welcome,” Bucky said as he set the pallet aside, turning to see Sam’s shocked expression.

“Surprise,” you grinned, waggling your fingers in a wave at Sam.

Sam stepped around the truck to get closer to you and Bucky, the shock on his face now a questioning look.

Bucky set a suitcase down on the bed of the truck. “Just dropping this off. Sign for it, and we’ll go.”

“Bucky,” you hissed under your breath. This was not part of your plan at all.

“I called in a favor from the Wakandans,” Bucky explained to Sam.

Before Sam could say anything in response, or you could berate Bucky under your breath again, a pipe started hissing loudly, and a woman was rushing over. “Sam!”

Sam wasted no time in rushing over to assess what the damage to the pipe was and how to go about fixing it, grabbing a nearby wrench as the woman looked at you and Bucky.

“Hi,” you smiled at her.

“Hi,” she smiled back.

Bucky sighed, watching what Sam was doing before going over. “Hold on, hold on. You gotta go up.” He took the wrench from Sam, pushing him out of the way, quickly tightening to the loose bolt on the pipe until it stopped hissing.

“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?” Sam asked as Bucky set the wrench aside.

Bucky thought about it for a second, looking at the vibranium appendage. “Well, I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m right-handed. So, this is the boat, huh?”

“This is it,” Sam nodded.

“It’s nice,” Bucky complimented. “You want any help?”

Sam looked at Bucky, sighing deeply. “Yeah…”

You and the woman looked over at Bucky and Sam, rolling your eyes. “Men…” you muttered. Then, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Sarah,” she smiled back. “Friends of Sam’s, I take it?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Mmm,” she nodded, her eyes roaming over Bucky. “And who are you?”

“I’m Bucky,” he grinned charmingly at her.

Sam punched him in the right arm as hard as he could. 

“Ow! What the hell, Sam?!” Bucky growled, rubbing at his arm.

“What is it with you and people’s sisters, man? How did Steve not beat your ass?”

Sarah’s eyes went wide as she looked at you, yours and Bucky’s name clicking in familiarity. “Oh!” she said, a hand covering her mouth as she looked at you, “I’m so sorry!”

You howled with laughter as Sam hit Bucky in the arm some more. “Seriously?! How did Steve not obliterate your ass?”

“He was like a foot shorter and weighed maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet,” Bucky shrugged. “Now will you stop hitting me? Doll!” He turned to you with puppy dog eyes to help him. “Weren’t you the one saying I needed to learn to be friendlier to people?”

“Friendlier, not flirtier,” you clarified, tears rolling down your cheeks from how hard you were still laughing. “Now help Sam with the damn boat, Sergeant Charmer.”

It was an interesting morning watching Bucky and Sam work on the boat, while you helped Sarah in the house making meals. “It’s probably a good thing Bucky’s from another time,” she commented as she caught you staring dreamily out the window for the millionth time.

“How do you mean?”

“A man that looks like that, and knows it? In today’s society? Not usually a good mix.”

“Oh, those types have always existed,” you said with a small chuckle. “Bucky and Steve used to fight them quite a bit.”

“And you? Having to fight off the hoards of women that no doubt threw themselves at a man like that?”

You laughed again. “Very rare occurrences. Bucky is, uh… attentive that way, I guess.”

“Well, you’re lucky to have a husband like Bucky. Men like that are hard to come by, believe me.”

“Oh, I know. Funny thing is, if you ask Bucky, he’d say he’s the lucky one.”

“Well, lunch is about done if you wanna bring these plates out to them for me.”

You thanked her, loading the plates up in your arms before walking outside and over to where Bucky and Sam were. “Lunch time!” you called out.

Both of their heads swiveled in your direction, Bucky clutching at his heart dramatically. “Oh, a woman after my own heart.”

“Sarah made lunch, I just helped,” you told him, handing him a plate.

Sam snickered, taking his own plate from you, “Thanks for helping her,” he told you, then in a louder voice that was almost a shout, “Thank you, Sarah!”

“You think Karli’s gonna throw in the towel?” Bucky asked, as you all took a spot and dug into your lunch.

Sam shook his head as he swallowed his bite of food. “I think she’s gonna double down.”

“Any idea on how to stop her?”

“I got Torres working on something.”

“Well, Zemo says there’s only one way.”

You all said nothing for a minute, eating your lunch and thinking quietly to yourselves before Bucky broke the silence. “Well. Y/N and I gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Gonna get a hotel room for the night. Crash, ya know?”

“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

“Well, there’s two of us. We don’t wanna impose, or anything. I really just came to give you that,” Bucky nodded at the suitcase the Wakandans have given him for Sam.

Sam snorted. “Like Y/N didn’t all but march your ass on the plane to get here. So just stay here. The people in this town are the most welcoming people in the world. They don’t care if you wear small T-shirts, or if you have six toes, or if your mom’s your aunt-” Sam rambled.

“Okay,” Bucky cut him off with a chuckle. “I get it. I mean, you know, the people are nice.”

You and Sam laughed too, before Sam pointed at Bucky, “But don’t flirt with my sister.”

“Why would I do that?”

Sam looked at you, “He doesn’t get it, does he?”

You shook your head, “He never really did.”

“What don’t I get?”

“It’s how you interact with women in general, Bucky. They find you charming,” you explained. “Niceness is mistaken as interest.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous.”

“Just keep the charm around my sister in check, or I’ll help Y/N cut you up, and feed you to the fish.”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

~~~

That night, instead of a hotel, you and Bucky slept in the spare bedroom of Sarah’s house, while Sam offered to take the couch.

Both of you awoke to the sounds of Sarah’s sons making a ruckus down the hall, and Sam’s tired call out of “Hey!”

You rolled on your side, to find Bucky already looking at you with a smile on his face. “What’s got you so happy this morning?” you asked, kissing his nose.

His shoulders shrugged. “Something about this is nice. Waking up next to you in a house. Sound of kids.”

You gasped softly in a teasing manner. “James Barnes, are you saying you want a quiet domestic life?”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead. “You knew that was what I wanted. What our lives were supposed to be like when I got home. You wanted the same thing too, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. I still do. I just didn’t know you still did, given how much everything’s changed.”

“For a while I didn’t. My focus was… elsewhere. But it’s been something that’s been on my mind again since you’ve been back. But I wanted to give us both time to adjust. Catch up for lost time, just me and you. And then… ya know. But yeah. This,” he twirled a finger about the room, and the sounds of the house coming alive, “is still something I want.”

“Well, it’s still something I want, too.”

His kiss was heavy with need as his lips crashed into yours. “God, I love you.”

~~~

The shield bit deeply into the tree Sam hurled it at. “Son of a b-” he muttered, dashing over to wedge it free.

“You need something it can bounce back off of,” Bucky told him.

“You need something it can bounce back off of,” Sam repeated in a mocking tone.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “C’mon, I got an idea.”

The idea ended up being taking rubber mats to bound around the trees, Sam giving it a test once they were done. The shield bounced off the mat, flying straight back to Sam who caught it with ease. “Yeah, alright,” he conceded. “That’s way better.”

“How’s the shield part feel?” you asked.

“That part feels weird.” He launched it again, the shield ricocheting off one mat into another before Bucky caught it. “The legacy of that shield,” Sam continued, “is complicated to say the least.”

“When Steve told us what he was planning, I don’t think any of us really understood what it felt like for a Black man to be handed the shield. How could we?” Bucky spoke up.

You and Sam shared a look, Sam jerking a thumb at you, “Well, I understood. And so did she. But glad you’re finally catching up.”

Bucky sighed, “Fine. I didn’t understand. Point is, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.” He lifted the arm the shield was on towards Sam for Sam to take.

“Thank you,” Sam said sincerely, taking the shield.

“Whatever happened with Walker, it wasn’t your fault,” Bucky went on to say. “I get it. It’s just… that shield… For a while it was the closest thing I had to a family. Or it was a huge part in me getting my family back anyway. Because if Steve never took it up in the first place… Well, when you retired it, it felt like giving up. Made me question everything. Like first Steve retired. Then you retired the shield. Everything that saved me was done. Like I was nothing but a completed mission.”

You and Sam stayed quiet, letting Bucky spill out the confession he now found the words to express. But after a long enough pause on Bucky’s end, you reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I know both Steve, and the shield mean a lot to you. But it doesn’t define you, Bucky,” you told him softly. “You are not who you are because of Steve. He might have helped, but he is not the reason. You are. You’re the one who put in the work.”

“She’s right,” Sam agreed with you. “You gotta stop looking at other people to tell you who you are. Let me ask you, you still having those nightmares?”

“All the time,” Bucky nodded. “It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier’s still in me.”

“You up for a little tough love? You wanna climb out of that hell you’re in, keep doing the work.”

“I’ve been making my amends.”

Sam scoffed. “No. You weren’t amending, you were avenging. And teaching Y/N in the process. You were stopping all the wrongdoers you enabled as the Winter Soldier because you thought it would bring you closure. But if it actually was, then your nightmares wouldn’t be happening. At least not with the frequency they still do.”

Bucky looked at you, both of you thinking about Yori back home. “You’re not allowed to talk to Sam anymore if you’re gonna blab everything I tell you to him.”

You smiled, knowing he was only teasing. “We’re a team, Bucky. Looking out for each other is what we do.”

Bucky shook his head. “Definitely not a team.”

“Nope,” Sam agreed with Bucky.

“We’re not that good,” Bucky laughed.

“Definitely not,” Sam agreed again.

“We’re professionals.”

“Definitely.”

“And uh… partners?”

“Coworkers.”

“But, we’re also a couple guys with a mutual friend.”

“But the friend’s now gone,” Sam pointed out.

“So we’re a couple of guys.”

“I can live with that.”

“Perfect.”

You snorted at their boyish back and forth antics. “The word you’re looking for is ‘family’ actually,” you interjected.

“Just uh… call us when you have a lead on Karli, and we’ll be there,” Bucky told Sam.

“Yep. And uh, thanks for the help. Meant a lot.”

“Course,” Bucky clapped Sam on the shoulder, and you and Sam gave each other a quick hug. “C’mon, doll. We got a flight to catch.”

~~~

Back home with no idea for how long, you and Bucky set to work on a more rigorous training for you.

Mornings quickly became filled with drilling you in various hand-to-hand combat techniques in which Bucky barely broke a sweat, and you ended up drenched in enough of your own for the both of you.

While you relished in your morning routine with Bucky, it was the afternoons you found particularly interesting after you came out of the bedroom to find Bucky sitting in front of his laptop. “Whatcha looking at?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you peered at the house listings on the computer screen.

“Domestic dreaming,” he said, not taking his eyes off the screen as he patted the sofa cushion next to him for you to join him.

“Oh, so when you said you still wanted this, you meant you wanted it now,” you teased as you moved around him to take the offered seat.

He shrugged. “Figured it couldn’t hurt. Thanks to Stark, everyone that’s still around is pretty well off. And I forget when exactly, but at some point Steve and I were able to get our GI funds.”

“That’s nice,” you noted, now understanding why finances had never seemed to be an issue despite neither of you actually working.

“Yeah. And I figured raising a family in a shoebox apartment isn’t part of that domestic dream. So…”

“So here we are,” you supplied.

“So here we are,” he repeated with a nod. “Oh, this one looks nice,” he said, clicking on one of the options.

“It is,” you agreed, watching as Bucky clicked through the pictures of the 3 bedroom home. “Big enough to raise a family. Small enough to not be obnoxious.”

“Mhm,” Bucky murmured, the mouse hovering over the link to schedule a viewing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned.

After that, it wasn’t uncommon for yours and Bucky’s afternoons to be filled with meeting with realtors and attending open houses, weighing all your options in the evenings. And with the type of dedication Bucky had towards house hunting, it wasn’t long at all until you found a place you both fell in love with.

“C’mon, doll,” he roused you one morning like he always did. “Gotta go train.”

Normally you bounded out of bed, excited for a new day of training exercises, but today you swatted a hand at him, batting him away. “No,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket up over your head, and turning away from him, the action making your stomach roll. You let out a long, low groan.

“You feeling alright?” he asked, his voice taking on a note of concern. Hands pulled the blanket from your face, before he was feeling your forehead, checking for any unusual warmth. “You don’t feel like you have a fever,” he noted with a frown.

“Gonna be sick,” you announced, springing from bed and racing for the bathroom.

Bucky followed worriedly, one hand pulling your hair out of your face, the other rubbing soothingly at your back as you dry-heaved into the toilet. “Okay, no training today. We do have the meeting with the realtor later to sign the last of the papers and get the keys. But I can ask Steve to come keep you company while I go do that if you’re not up for it.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head and rising shakily to your feet. “You don’t have to bother Steve. It’s just a stomach bug, I’ll be fine.”

“Well, let me at least help you back to bed, and make you some breakfast, okay?”

“Fine,” you conceded, letting him support your weight as he led you back to bed. “But I’m not hungry,” you told him as you pulled the blanket close around you in bed.

“Not hungry, or worried you’ll be sick if you eat?” he questioned the validity of your statement.

You stuck your tongue out at him.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “At least try to eat some toast for me? Maybe having something in your stomach will help.”

“If you get it to me before I fall back asleep, I’ll try,” was your compromise.

Quickly, Bucky raced into the kitchen, as you closed your eyes wondering why you suddenly felt so miserable. When you’d been sick in the past, there’d always been signs leading up to it. But this sickness had caught you completely off guard. 

“Gotta sit up for me, doll,” Bucky’s voice had you opening your eyes again, spotting him standing next to you with a plate in his hand.

You groaned, sitting up against the headboard and taking a begrudging bite of the toast.

He chuckled again. “I forgot how stubborn you get when you’re sick. Way more than you normally are.”

“Not sure how not wanting to vomit toast, and wanting to sleep makes me stubborn, but okay,” you said, taking another slow bite.

“Aren’t there usually signs before you get sick? I thought there used to be signs.”

“There are signs. Or there’s supposed to be. I dunno what the heck is happening.”

His brows pulled together in curious confusion. “You’re not…” his eyes shifted to look at your stomach pointedly. “Are you?”

Your eyes went wide at the suggestion, before you shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe?”

“Shit…”

“Would it be bad if I was?”

“No!” he rushed. “God no. Just…”

“We talked about all of this back in the forties, it became irrelevant for decades, and now that we started talking about the possibility of it all again, it’s all happening at once.”

“And we still have the Karli situation, yeah. But it’s fine. It’s more than fine. Do you want me to run down to the pharmacy?”

“Please?”

Ten minutes later, Bucky held you tight as you waited on the test lying on the bathroom counter with wide and tearful eyes. “Holy shit…” you both breathed in unison, as a small plus sign appeared in the result window. “Holy shit!”

__

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