#and for the people that were around when i came out to my parents and it sucked real bad - i'm doing a lot better now :)

[yamumsyadadd]

consequences

part of the Marquita series. Talks of consent, sexual assault, Jenni’s trial.

It had been odd at home for a few weeks. Your mami and Irene were always talking in hushed voices, both with frowns on their faces. Sometimes random people in suits would be in the living room when you got home. 

Olga was busy with the baby, Mami with whatever secret she was dealing with and your mama? You weren’t exactly sure since she had gone radio silent on you. 

Alexia knew it was time to have a conversation with you. After Rio was born, she and Jenni had sat you down to have the sex talk. Answering all the questions you had, emphasising not to look up things on the internet again and letting you know that regardless of your sexuality, they loved you. 

The conversation they needed to had was around consent. None of your guardians thought you’d be having sex, or really doing anything inherently sexual, but with the trial coming up it was a conversation needed. 

You were simply going through the motions. Confused as to why your mama wasn’t talking to you, even why you Tio Rafa wasn’t replying. Your phone was now left at home or in your mamis car more often. You didn’t have social media, something both parents were extremely strict about. 

Sometimes you wanted to fight about with them, but then you remembered when Olga let you use her phone and you were scrolling through her instagram, the amount of hate messages, death threats and overall mean comments she received had shocked you. 

There were moments, at school with you friends, that you felt like you were missing out because they all had instagram and Snapchat, but you reminded yourself about the awful things said to Olga and you didn’t think you’d cope with that. 

The house was eerily quiet when you came home from school. There was no baby noises, or tv. Olga and Rio weren’t in the kitchen, office or in your Mami and Olga’s room. The lounge room was clean, untouched from the cleaner. A apart of you felt forgotten. They had gone out somewhere and forgotten you. 

In a major act of defiance, you found your phone and downloaded instagram. To you, this would get their attention, make them feel bad for forgetting you. The ramifications of it didn’t even float in your mind. 

It took at least half an hour to figure it out, following a few of your friends from school, as well as your Tia, Abuela and a few of the Barcelona Women’s team members but not your mami, mama or Olga. 

You were so wrapped up in discovering how to use the app, you didn’t hear the keys in the front door, or the sounds of both your mami and mama walking down the hallway. It was only when your mama plucked your phone from her hand, eyebrows creased, did you realise they were there. 

“Hey!-“

“Since when did you allow her to have an instagram Alexia?” You felt your body fold into itself. 

“Never. Marquita, you aren’t allowed instagram. You were told this!”

Both your mami and mama were standing in front of you, mami with her arms crossed and her usual frown, your mama with one hand on her hip, the other looking at your phone. 

“Why? Why did you break our trust and make an account. You know how people are, the cruel things-“

“I know! I know okay? I guess I felt left out. All my friends have it, you guys have it. Even Nala had an instagram!”

Your mama sat down in front of you, giving your phone to your mami, “this is a conversation that your mami and I need to have. Without you around.” 

“Why are you here?” It clicked in your brain, your mama was here, in February, she was supposed to be in Mexico, playing a game in a few days time. 

“We need to have an important, honest conversation with you.” Your mami sat down next to you, grabbing your hand. 

“Are you sending me back? I’ll delete the instagram! I’ll do whatever you want but please-“

“Stop, Amor we aren’t sending you back.” Your Mami looked towards your mama, giving her a slight nod. 

“Do you remember how Spain won the World Cup in Australia?” You nodded your head, of course you remembered, “there was a moment on stage that something happened. The head of the RFEF did something to me, something I didn’t like and didn’t ask for. Because of this, he stood down and there were charges filed against him and a few others. They were saying some really horrible things to me. About you, about my career and your mamis career.” You could tell she was getting emotional, maybe even a little embarrassed. 

“There are certain people in this world that think they can get away with things. Usually it’s men, but sometimes it women too. If you don’t want to do something, hug someone or kiss them or whatever, never let them pressure you. It’s important that if you’re not comfortable, you don’t do it. Even if it’s a feeling in your tummy that you don’t understand, listen to it. You call me, mami, Olga, alba, abuela, or anyone on the team. We will all be there.” 

“Okay.” 

“Do you understand what we are saying?” 

“Yeah. Don’t let anyone make me feel uncomfortable.” 

“The same applies to you. If someone tells you to stop, that they are uncomfortable, you stop. Straight away. If someone expresses their discomfort after the fact, you listen, you apologise, you don’t do it again.” 

“Okay I understand.” 

“The reason” your Mamas voice broke as she spoke again, “I’m here is because we are going to trial. Your mami, Irene, Tio Rafa, Codi, they are all going to talk at the trial, I’m going to talk at the trial. That’s part of the reason I’ve- we’ve been so hesitant on you having social media. These people, they have been really really cruel, so have the people online and neither of us want you exposed to that.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” You asked almost shyly. Both nodded at you, “when I was on Olga’s phone, I went through her instagram. I saw the messages she gets.” 

“Yes. It’s not pretty, your mami and I get them too. Alba probably does. All the girls on the team. When you’re a bit older and, um, sexual activity we will revisit this conversation. Do you have any questions about anything?”

You shook your head. At this current time, there were no questions to be asked. It was a lot of information to take in. The thought of kissing a boy or girl, was too much to think about. 

“We are just going to have a chat about your instagram and phone privileges. Do you have homework to get done?” 

It didn’t take long for the house to become loud again. Olga and Rio walked in right as you started your homework. Olga gave you a kiss on the head as you took Rio from her. Leaving the two of you in the lounge room as she went to join your Mami and mama in their room. 

Sometimes you were jealous of Rio. He was just a baby, a baby that had no expectations, no homework, no chores. His only job was to just survive. 

A short time later, your mama, Mami and Olga came out of their room. Your mami taking Rio from you and your mama wrapping her arms tightly around you. 

“We have all come to an agreement. You can keep instagram on a few conditions.” 

“Okay?” 

“1. You make that account private. No one is allowed to follow you expect your friends, family and the girls on the team. If you don’t want them to follow you, you don’t have to accept it, but you cannot accept any strangers. Understand?” 

A small smile crept on your face, “I understand.” 

“Okay, number 2. You have to give the email and password to us. We are allowed to check what you’re looking at, who you’re following and who is messaging you. I know it seems like it’s controlling but it’s for your own safety.”

“Yes! Yes okay!” 

“Wait, don’t get too excited. There’s one more thing: every night, at 8pm, your phone is to be in our bedroom. Just because you are getting instagram, doesn’t mean you’ll be allowed to be on it all night.” 

You nodded quickly, before launching yourself at your mama and then mami and Olga. They were giving you a taste of freedom, they trusted you and you wouldn’t let them down. 

Secretly, you would search your mami and mamas names. Reading the horrible things people said about them made you feel protective over them. They were the best people you knew, the strongest, most loving. It took a lot of self control and conversations with Mapi, but you learned to ignore it. 

[luvfae]

CLEAN, PT 2

summary: after rehab, you reunite with thanos, sharing love, passion, and a fresh start together.

parings: thanos/choi su-bong x f!reader

warnings: mention of addiction, swearing, smut, oral (both receiving), fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (don’t be an idiot), p in v.

part 1

Three months ago, Thanos had dragged you—kicking, screaming, and cursing his name—into the same rehab facility where he had gotten clean.

Today, you were walking out.

With no family to pick you up (Thanos didn’t even know if you had any who cared), he was the one waiting.

Three excruciating months apart. He spent every day wondering if you hated him, if you were okay. But no calls from the facility meant you weren’t doing too bad. Meanwhile, you had spent those months drowning in withdrawal, fighting everyone who tried to help, refusing therapy—until eventually, you gave in. And for the first time in years, you felt normal. You started to remember the girl you used to be before the drugs took her away.

Then came the shame. The time lost. You should’ve graduated from art school by now, but instead, addiction had dictated your life. You regretted cutting off your family, pushing away friends until you had none left. You regretted how you had treated Thanos when all he ever did was try to save you.

And now, standing at the door, your hands trembled. Would anyone even be waiting for you?

Then—

“Y/N.”

You blinked.

Thanos.

You didn’t think. You just ran.

Throwing yourself at him, you hugged him so tightly it knocked the wind out of him. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice shaking. You pulled back slightly to look at him. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me,” he murmured, brushing away your tears.

“I didn’t deserve your help,” you admitted, pulling away completely. He caught your hands, grounding you. “I was so awful to you. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know what it’s like to be an addict,” he replied. “Everyone deserves help.”

Sniffing, you wiped your eyes as he led you to his car.

It was strange. You had known Thanos for nine months, lived with him, had sex with him, and yet… you didn’t really know him. Your brain had been so fried on drugs you barely retained any information.

And Thanos was the same. He had taken care of you, paid for your rehab, seen you at your lowest, and yet he didn’t know who you were.

Maybe it was time to change that.

The car ride was quiet at first. You were still getting used to the feeling of sobriety, of being aware. But as the city passed by through the windows, you glanced at Thanos.

“I used to paint,” you blurted out.

He looked at you. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Before everything… I loved painting. I was good at it, too. I was supposed to graduate art school a few years ago. Art was my dream.”

Silence settled for a moment before you continued. “I had a good life. A good family. My parents weren’t perfect, but they cared. I had a future. And then I got caught up with the wrong people.” You swallowed. “I let it ruin me.”

Thanos tightened his grip on the wheel. “It’s not too late.”

You let out a small, breathy laugh. “You sound like my therapist.”

“Well, your therapist is right,” he said, glancing at you. “You’re clean now. You can start again.”

You didn’t reply, just watched the city blur past.

“What about you?” you asked. “How did you get into rapping?”

Thanos smirked slightly. “It was either rap or go to jail.”

Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, waiting for him to explain.

“I was a street kid,” he said. “Grew up bouncing between different family members. No real home. I got into some bad shit—gangs, drugs, fights. Ended up locked up a few times as a teenager. But music…” He sighed, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “Music was my way out. I started writing lyrics in juvie. Got out, kept at it, got lucky. Somehow, I made it big.”

You stared at him, realizing this was the first real conversation you’d ever had. “Do you love it?”

Thanos was quiet for a beat. “Yeah. I do.”

You smiled softly. “I’d like to hear your songs sometime. Really hear them. Not just in the background while I’m high out of my mind.”

His lips quirked up. “I’d like that too.”

And for the first time in a long time, you both felt like you were finally getting to know each other.

Thanos had loved you before—loved you in your worst moments, through the chaos, the anger, the addiction. But this version of you? The version that was bright-eyed, passionate, full of life again? He loved this version even more.

As he stole glances at you in the passenger seat, he really saw you for the first time. Your cheeks had filled out, your skin looked healthier, your eyes were wide and alert instead of hazy and half-lidded. And that smile—soft, genuine, real.

You were beautiful.

He pulled into the driveway, and you blinked, tilting your head.

“This isn’t the place I remember,” you said, glancing up at the massive mansion in front of you.

Thanos shrugged. “Bought a new house while you were gone.” He put the car in park and looked over at you. “Wanted to leave the bad memories behind and make good ones here instead.”

You let out a small laugh. “House? More like a mansion.”

Thanos smirked, pushing open his door. “Being rich and famous has its perks.”

You stepped out after him, following him inside. The space was opulent—high ceilings, sleek furniture, stunning artwork lining the walls. You turned in slow circles, taking it all in.

“I’ll donate them to charity,” Thanos said.

You glanced at him, confused. “What?”

“The paintings,” he clarified. “I’d rather have your art on my walls.”

Your cheeks burned, and you ducked your head, kicking at the floor. “I haven’t picked up a paintbrush in years,” you admitted. “Not sure I even can anymore.”

Thanos smiled. “I bet you can.”

Before you could argue, he took your hand and led you up the grand staircase, past a few closed doors, before stopping in front of one. He pushed it open, revealing a bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the entire city.

“This is your room,” he said simply.

You stepped inside, breath catching. It was beautiful. Warm-toned, cozy, welcoming. He walked over to the closet and pulled open the doors, revealing racks of neatly hung designer clothes, tags still on them.

“I even got you a new wardrobe,” he added.

You stared at the clothes, shaking your head. “Thanos, this is too much,” you whispered. “After everything I put you through… You shouldn’t have to take care of me anymore.”

He turned to you, gaze steady. “I want to.”

His words sat heavy between you. No hesitation, no doubt.

For the first time in a long time, you felt happy.

Real, genuine happiness. The kind that made your stomach flip and your heart race.

Or maybe it wasn’t just happiness. Maybe it was something deeper, something terrifying in its intensity.

You stared at him, eyes brimming with tears. “Thank you.” Your voice was barely a whisper, afraid that if you spoke any louder, the moment would shatter.

Thanos met your gaze, unwavering. “You’re welcome.”

You stepped forward hesitantly. “I don’t remember a lot from when I was using,” you admitted. “But I remember you.”

His brows lifted slightly. “What do you remember?”

You swallowed hard. “I remember you force-feeding me when I refused to eat. Flushing my stash down the toilet. I remember screaming in your face, kicking holes in your walls.” A tear slipped down your cheek, but you kept going. “I remember sleeping with strangers, with your friends—right after you told me you loved me.” Your voice cracked. “I was horrible to you. But that wasn’t the real me. I swear.”

Thanos nodded, watching you carefully. “I know,” he said simply. “But there were good times too, right? You remember those?”

You did.

You remembered the way he’d tuck you in at night, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The way he’d run a bath for you after you got sick all over yourself, holding you steady as he cleaned you up. The way he kissed you like he was willing to set the world on fire for you. The way he touched you, loved you, even when you were too far gone to truly feel it.

“I remember how you made me feel,” you whispered, stepping closer.

His lips parted, his breath hitching as your fingers traced up his chest.

“I remember your hands,” you murmured, voice turning sultry. “Your mouth. Your tongue. Your fingers.” Your hand slid lower, brushing over the hardening bulge in his jeans. “Your cock inside me.”

Thanos inhaled sharply as you pushed your palms against his chest.

You had spent weeks thinking about this—about fucking him sober. About feeling everything for the first time.

“You made me feel so good,” you purred. “So fucking good, Thanos.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “My real name is Su-bong,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

You smirked. “Well—Su-bong…” Your eyes darkened with intent. “Let me make it up to you. Let me show you how good I can be.”

That was all it took.

His lips crashed against yours, hungry and demanding, his hands gripping your waist as he backed you toward the bed. You gasped as the backs of your knees hit the mattress, and he wasted no time pushing you onto your back, peeling his shirt off in one swift motion and tossing it to the floor.

You sat up slightly, dragging your fingertips down his toned abdomen, your mouth practically watering at the sight of him.

He was already hard for you.

And this time, you were completely, devastatingly sober.

You dragged your nails down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. His skin was warm, firm—real. For the first time, you were feeling him, not just through a hazy drug-fueled blur, but with a clarity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Thanos—Su-bong—looked down at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips parted slightly as he took you in. “You’re teasing me,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.

You smirked, trailing your fingers lower, letting them ghost over the waistband of his jeans. “Maybe,” you mused. “I owe you, don’t I?”

His hands slid up your sides, rough palms skimming the soft fabric of the shirt he had given you months ago—the same one you had walked out of rehab in. Slowly, he peeled it up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor.

His gaze roamed over you, drinking in every inch of exposed skin, every little mark and scar. You weren’t the frail, hollow version of yourself anymore. You were whole.

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered, his fingers trailing over your ribs, then up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples. You let out a soft gasp, arching into his touch.

His mouth found your throat, lips pressing firm, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck. He sucked lightly at your pulse, dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin, making you shudder.

“Su-bong,” you breathed, threading your fingers through his hair.

He groaned at the way you said his name, his hands sliding down your body, squeezing at your waist, your hips, like he was memorizing the shape of you.

You tugged at the waistband of his jeans, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down, your fingers slipping inside to brush against the hard length beneath his boxers. He let out a sharp exhale, hips jerking forward slightly at your touch.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his forehead dropping against yours. “You really want this?”

You wrapped your fingers around him, squeezing just enough to make him curse under his breath. “More than anything,” you whispered.

His lips crashed against yours again, hungrier this time, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed you back onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs. You gasped as he kissed his way down your body, his mouth hot and insistent against your skin.

When he reached the waistband of your jeans, he hooked his fingers into them, glancing up at you for permission.

You lifted your hips in response, breath hitching as he dragged them down, taking your panties with them, exposing you completely to him.

His eyes darkened, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust.

Then, without hesitation, he leaned down and devoured you.

His tongue flicked against your clit, slow and teasing, sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. Your fingers twisted into his hair, hips jerking instinctively, but he pinned you down with a firm grip on your thighs.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned against you, his breath hot, his voice thick with hunger. “Missed this pussy so much.”

A whimper slipped from your lips as he flattened his tongue and licked a long, slow stripe up your slit before sucking your clit into his mouth. Your back arched, thighs trembling, but just as the pleasure built, just as you felt yourself spiraling, you pushed at his shoulders.

Thanos pulled back, his mouth glistening, brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

You took a shaky breath, trying to clear the haze of pleasure from your mind. “This is about you, not me,” you murmured, pushing yourself up on your elbows. “I’m paying you back.”

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “If it’s about me, then I should get to do what I want,” he countered, voice low, dangerous. “And what I want to do is fucking taste you.”

“Jesus Christ,” you breathed, heat surging through your body.

Before you could protest further, he dove back in, his tongue circling your clit while two fingers slid inside you, curling just right. A strangled moan tore from your throat, your hips bucking as he worked you open, relentless and precise.

It didn’t take long—he knew exactly how to unravel you, exactly how to have you gripping his hair and gasping his name. Your orgasm hit fast and hard, your body shaking as he held you down, licking you through every wave until you were panting, overstimulated.

Only then did he pull away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, looking so fucking smug.

“Fuck,” you muttered, still catching your breath. “I forgot how good you were at that. Feels even better sober.”

His smirk widened. “Unforgettable, baby.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. Pushing him onto his back, you straddled his hips, hands sliding up his chest, fingers teasing over his nipples before raking down his abs.

“My turn,” you whispered.

You kissed down his body, taking your time, nipping at his collarbones, sucking marks into his skin just to watch him tense beneath you. When you reached the waistband of his jeans, you tugged them down, freeing his cock, your mouth practically watering at the sight of him—thick, hard, already leaking.

You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking slow, teasing. His breath hitched, his head tipping back against the pillows.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his fingers curling into the sheets. “You gonna take care of me, baby?”

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his tip, then dragged your tongue along his length, watching the way his stomach tensed beneath you.

“Of course,” you murmured, voice dripping with promise.

And then you took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as he let out a deep, guttural moan, his hands flying to your hair.

Your tongue worked him slowly, dragging along every inch of his length, teasing just to hear him groan. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, letting him hit the back of your throat, moaning around him just to feel the way he twitched in your mouth.

“Shit, baby,” Thanos growled, his fingers tightening in your hair. “Missed your mouth—so perfect, so fucking good for me.”

The praise only made you more eager. You bobbed your head, stroking the rest of him with your hand, slick and messy, making sure to keep your eyes on him. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his jaw clenched, his muscles tense as he fought to keep control.

But you didn’t want him to be in control.

You pulled off him with a lewd pop, kissing up his abs as you moved to straddle his waist. His cock was hard, flushed, throbbing against your soaked folds as you rubbed against him, teasing both of you.

“Hey,” he hissed, gripping your hips. “Quit teasing.”

You smirked, leaning down to kiss him, slow and deep, your fingers threading into his hair. “You always take care of me,” you whispered against his lips. “Let me take care of you now.”

Without breaking eye contact, you reached down, guiding him to your entrance before sinking down onto him in one slow, delicious slide. Both of you gasped at the sensation, your walls stretching around him, molding to him perfectly like you were made for this.

“Jesus,” Thanos groaned, his head tipping back, fingers digging into your hips as he tried not to lose himself completely.

“You feel so good,” you breathed, placing your hands on his chest, rolling your hips slowly, savoring the way he filled you so perfectly. “So fucking good, Su-bong.”

His eyes snapped open at the sound of his real name on your lips, dark and wild with lust. He sat up suddenly, wrapping an arm around your waist, his mouth latching onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as you continued moving, grinding against him, taking him deeper.

You moaned, clinging to his shoulders, kissing him desperately, your tongues tangling, the pleasure building between you like a fire. “Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, rocking faster, harder. “Thank you for saving me. For never giving up on me.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he flipped you onto your back, keeping you pinned beneath him, his hips snapping against yours, hitting deeper, harder.

“You’re mine,” he muttered between kisses, his voice rough, possessive. “Always fucking mine.”

“Yours,” you gasped, nails raking down his back, legs wrapping around him to pull him even closer. “Only yours.”

His pace turned desperate, his thrusts brutal yet somehow still so full of love, his forehead pressing against yours, his hand slipping between you to rub your clit, determined to drag you over the edge with him.

And when you came—hard, clenching around him, gasping his name like a prayer—he followed right after, burying himself deep, groaning into your mouth as he filled you, his entire body shuddering against yours.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, tangled together in the aftermath, your breathing heavy, your hearts racing in sync.

Then Thanos kissed you again, softer this time, lingering. “I still love you,” he murmured against your lips. “I always have.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his damp hair. “I think I love you too.”

And when he pulled you into his arms, holding you close like he never wanted to let go, you knew—you meant it.

You lay there for a while, tangled up in each other, your skin slick with sweat, his breath warm against your neck. The weight of him felt comforting, grounding, like you never wanted him to move.

But eventually, you stirred, pressing a soft kiss to his temple before slipping out of his arms.

“Where are you going?” Thanos mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion.

You giggled, running a hand through his messy hair. “Relax, I’m just grabbing a towel.”

You padded to the bathroom, your legs still wobbly, but you didn’t care. You cleaned yourself up before wetting a towel, you returned to the bed, settling beside him as you began to clean him up, running the cloth over his stomach, down between his legs, gentle and careful.

Thanos watched you, his expression soft, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thigh. “You don’t have to do that,” he murmured.

“I want to,” you replied, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Let me take care of you for once.”

He huffed out a small laugh, letting you do as you pleased, though his hands never stopped touching you—gliding over your arm, your waist, like he needed the reassurance that you were still here.

When you were done, you tossed the towel aside, crawling back into his embrace, peppering kisses along his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

Thanos smirked. “You’re in a good mood.”

“I think you fucked the happiness into me,” you teased, making him chuckle before he suddenly rolled you onto your back, hovering over you, nuzzling into your neck.

You giggled, your hands slipping into his hair, tugging him up so you could kiss him properly. Slow, lazy, sweet.

After a while, you pulled back just enough to look at him, brushing his damp hair from his face. “Thank you for the room,” you said softly. “But… I think I’d rather share a bed with you, if that’s okay?”

He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, his thumb stroking your cheek. “That’s more than okay,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You smiled, burying your face in his chest, and for the first time in years, you felt home.

You still had a long road ahead—staying clean, rebuilding bridges with your family, reenrolling in art school. But those were worries for another day.

For now, you stayed wrapped in Thanos’ arms, making up for lost time, showering him with the love you should have given him all along.

[bubbleggum444]

—❝𐌋ITTLE MIƧƧ AC𝚃IVIST!❞

contents damian wayne x fem!reader, new hero!reader au, fluff + angst (n comfort), 3k+ wc. synopsis he knows all too well what it is like to feel like you don't fit it.

This felt so... wrong. Everything and everyone around ___ was just so frustrating, so difficult to deal with.

She had been an activist for as long as she could remember, fighting for what she believed in. But everything changed when she became a hero.

For better or worse? She wasn’t sure. No—oh great, Starfire just burned another tree down. Just perfect. Yeah, definitely worse.

Time and time again, this path hurt. It pulled at her, tore at her, like two different people were fighting for control inside her body.

One part of her—the old her—was someone who spent hours protesting, climbing trees to protect them, boycotting inhumane brands, and helping the vulnerable.

The other—the hero—was someone who saw, day in and day out, just how much destruction heroes left behind in their wake.

She knew her thoughts must have been tiring to others. Maybe even annoying. But she didn’t care. They weren’t her, and she wasn’t them. No one had the right to tell her how to feel about this.

Still, she could only bite her tongue for so long.

During a mission, Beast Boy casually tossed a used water bottle onto the street.

She hesitated, not wanting to sound like a nag. So instead, she simply picked it up, intending to throw it in a trash can.

Then she heard Garfield chuckle.

"Are you our new teammate or the trashman, newbie?"

Ouch.

Even the other Titans fell silent at the remark.

Her fingers clenched around the plastic, her vision burning. She didn’t dare look at any of them. She was too close to breaking.

So she walked away.

She hadn’t planned to. It was an impulsive decision, but that was who she was—rash, reactive. Always ready to act against injustice, even before becoming a hero.

She kept walking until she reached a park bench and collapsed onto it. The moment she was alone, the tears came. She hated this—hated feeling weak, hated that everything was finally catching up to her. The pressure of expectations, the weight of two halves of herself pulling in opposite directions.

It felt suffocating.

Like the disappointment she had seen in her parents’ eyes when she struggled to balance school and activism. The kind of disappointment that didn’t hurt physically but cut so much deeper.

A shiver ran down her spine as something cold wrapped around her from behind.

Whack!

On instinct, she swung back, landing a solid smack on whoever had just grabbed her.

"Damian?!" Her eyes widened.

"Oh my God, I’m so—"

"No, I deserved that," he admitted, rubbing his arm. "I came after you... I just didn’t know how to approach you."

Her chest tightened.

She hadn’t expected anyone to follow her. Least of all Damian.

She couldn’t stop the fresh wave of tears that spilled over, but this time, he was ready. He pulled her into another hug, and she let herself sink into it, gripping onto him like she might fall apart otherwise.

"There’s nothing wrong with being someone who picks up trash," she mumbled, voice still thick with emotion.

"That’s a decent, respectable job."

Damian huffed a small laugh.

"That’s not funny—"

"I know."

He tilted her chin up, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. His green eyes searched hers, steady and unreadable.

"I’ve noticed how much you’ve been pushing yourself, ___," he murmured.

"Stepping out of your comfort zone. Going against things you once believed in."

His hand brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary.She held his gaze, her breath catching.

"It’s admirable," he continued, voice softer now. "And... I understand more than you think."

She swallowed hard.

She barely knew Damian. Out of all the Titans, he was the most closed off.

Yet here he was. In a park. In the middle of the night. Holding her. Comforting her.

Was it always this warm at this time of year?

Her voice wavered slightly when she spoke. "Meaning...?"

He exhaled, thumb brushing over her cheek like he was afraid she might break.

"Meaning I’ve been where you are," he admitted. "I know what it’s like to feel like an outsider. To think that no matter what you do, you’ll never truly fit in."

His voice dipped lower, carrying something raw beneath it.

"And it hurt deeply. I rejected those who tried to help me because they were different, yet I embraced the pain from others simply because they were my familiars."

The air between them felt heavy—not with awkwardness, but with something deeper. It was as if their hearts had silently intertwined, speaking in a language beyond words. The weight of unspoken emotions filled the space between them, their rapid beats echoing a conversation only they could understand.

She felt it. The way her heartbeat stumbled, the way something in her chest tightened painfully.

And she could feel his too. Beating, racing—just like hers.

The silence between them was fragile, delicate, like the moment might shatter if either of them spoke.

With one arm dropping to his side, the other wraps itself around her shoulder in a gentle side hug.

"Let’s go get some dumplings," he murmured. "There’s a Chinatown nearby. The vendors stay open late."

Slowly, she let herself relax against him, nodding.

"Okay," she whispered. "Let’s get some pho."

As they walked along the cobblestone streets, ___ let out a quiet giggle.

His cheeks kind of look like dumplings…

She bit her lip to suppress her laughter, but Damian caught it anyway.

His gaze flickered toward her. "What’s so funny?"

She shook her head, smiling to herself.

"Nothing," she said softly. "I’m just really excited for the food."

Damian narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. But he let it go, walking just a little closer to her as they made their way down the dimly lit street.

And for the first time in a long time, ___ felt like maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t so alone after all.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

© — ggυɱi '25

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated

ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼ .ᐟ

alsooo BB would NEVA be like this. I just needed a "bag guy" for the story :)👌🏻

[deliciousangelfestival]

Change Of Heart - 5 (Edited ver.)

Character: Bucky x Female! Reader

Theme: Angst, tragedy, romance.

Summary: The interviewer asked her a provocative question:

“If you were offered a million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Without hesitation, she replied with a smirk, “Give me one dollar, and I’ll leave him this second.”

True to her word, she walked away, leaving the man stunned and searching for answers. Now, he’s desperately trying to find her, grappling with the haunting question—why would she leave him so easily?

And is there more to her departure than a single dollar could ever explain?

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky stood near the dock, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat. The waves lapped gently against the wooden posts, a rhythmic sound that did little to soothe the restlessness inside him. The sky had begun to darken, shades of deep blue swallowing the last traces of daylight.

"Sir, it's getting dark," his secretary reminded him softly, standing a few steps behind.

Bucky didn't respond immediately. Instead, he exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "Did your parents divorce?"

The secretary blinked at the sudden question. "No, sir. But my sister did. She divorced her first husband."

Bucky hummed, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the ocean stretched endlessly. "Was it the right choice?"

"I think so," the secretary admitted. "She smiles more with her second husband. He was divorced too. Somehow, they complete each other. It’s like they both learned from their past mistakes."

Bucky finally turned to look at him. "How long have they been together now?"

"Five years."

Silence settled between them. Bucky lowered his gaze, staring at the ground as if lost in thought. His parents divorced when he was young. His father changed wives like the seasons, to where Bucky had lost count of how many stepmothers he'd had. And his mother—she had become a well-known rich cougar, the kind who made headlines.

When two broken people come together, they begin to heal. But what happened between him and you... something still hurts deep down. Though both of you completed each other, seeing you leave felt like it wasn’t enough.

Bucky had spent years running from his past, avoiding the feelings he buried deep within himself. He'd been afraid of truly connecting, terrified that giving in to love would mean vulnerability—and he’d never allowed himself to be vulnerable. But with you, something changed.

He started to open up, piece by piece. He had found solace in your presence, a kind of comfort he never thought he’d experience. You made him feel like maybe it was okay to be human.

But even as the wounds began to heal, a part of him remained fractured. The scars weren’t completely gone. And as he watched you walk away, that deep-seated fear—of losing someone, of being left behind—came rushing back. He realized he wasn’t as whole as he thought he was.

Without another word, Bucky pulled out his phone. His fingers hovered over the screen momentarily before he made the call. He held the device to his ear and started walking, his steps slow and aimless as he paced along the dimly lit dock. A few streetlights flickered, casting long shadows over the worn planks beneath his feet.

The therapist answered after a few rings.

"My advice?" The voice on the other end was calm. "Let her go. Don't stop her. If she wants to come back, she will."

Bucky’s jaw clenched. His grip on the phone tightened. He didn’t agree.

"Do you have any sexual desire toward her?"

"No," he answered without hesitation.

"Do you feel safe when you're around her?"

"...Yes."

"Do you want to come home faster when you know she's waiting there?"

Bucky exhaled through his nose. "Yes."

The therapist paused before asking the last question.

"Do you have feelings for her?"

This time, Bucky hesitated. His lips parted, but the words didn't come as easily. "...No." But his voice lacked conviction.

The therapist remained silent for a beat before finally speaking.

"It will grow on you. Just wait and see."

Bucky lowered the phone, staring at the dark waters ahead. The wind picked up, tousling his hair, but he barely noticed. His chest felt tight, the answer lingering in his mind.

Had he really meant it?

The Next Day

Bucky followed you.

He shouldn’t have, but he did.

He was already waiting by the dock when you returned from your scuba diving lesson. You looked different���lighter, freer. The usual quiet presence he was familiar with had been replaced by someone more expressive, more alive. You laughed while talking to strangers, engaging with them in a way he had never seen before. When you were with him, you spoke to his colleagues, sure, but never like this. With them, it was polite conversation, surface-level. But now? You were glowing.

And Bucky didn't know how to feel about that.

You spotted him standing near the railing, and your smile faltered for just a second before returning. Surprise flickered in your eyes, but there was something else too—relief, maybe.

"You're still here," you said, your voice carrying a mix of disbelief and quiet gladness.

Bucky was about to respond, but then his gaze caught on you peeling off your wetsuit.

He froze.

It wasn’t like you were undressing provocatively—you were simply taking off your gear. But in the two years you'd been together, neither of you had ever seen the other completely bare. You had shared a home, a bed even, but always with an unspoken distance.

His throat went dry, and he forced himself to turn away, his jaw tightening.

Bucky had seen countless women undress before, but this—this was different. This was you. And it was as if some part of his brain refused to process it. He waited in silence, staring at the dark water until he heard your footsteps approaching.

You had changed into dry clothes and now stood beside him, leaning against the dock railing.

“I guess Grandpa won’t allow you to come home,” you said.

Bucky let out a dry chuckle. “How did you know?”

“Just a hunch.”

He exhaled sharply, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’re right. But I guess… I failed. You don’t want to come back.”

“Not yet.”

Silence. The waves rolled in and out, filling the space between you.

You looked out at the sea, your expression unreadable. Then, as if speaking more to yourself than to him, you asked, “Do you ever wonder why we’re compatible?”

It was a good question. Because in truth, on paper, you shouldn’t be.

Most marriage contracts like yours didn’t last. Some couples couldn’t even stand each other for the duration of their agreement. They broke it off before the ink had dried.

You exhaled through your nose, then said with a smirk, “Because both of us are ambitious as fuck.”

Bucky scoffed. He almost laughed, but he held it in, shaking his head instead.

Then, in a quieter voice, he asked, “If you love me, why are you leaving?”

You turned your head to look at him. Your eyes were softer now, but firm, steady.

“Bucky, I know you’re not ready for this. And I won’t push you. You need to figure it out yourself.”

His chest tightened.

He had spent years figuring himself out. Years battling the demons that kept him tethered to his past. But had he actually moved forward?

“I used this marriage contract to get money,” you admitted. “To have a higher status than my father. Feeling superior to him gave me satisfaction.”

Bucky swallowed hard. He understood that. He understood it too well.

He had never wanted to be in a relationship—not out of fear, but as an act of rebellion. His parents' marriage had been a disaster, a revolving door of broken vows and replacements. His father cycled through wives like a man cycling through business investments. His mother had responded by becoming one of the most infamous rich cougars in town, collecting younger lovers as if to prove something to the world.

Love, as far as Bucky had seen, was nothing more than a transaction.

He had despised it.

But now, standing here, he wasn’t so sure.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “So this is goodbye, then?”

“For now,” you said, your voice gentle. “I just want to do what I’ve been holding back. I want to grow up.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at that. “What do you mean? We’re already in our thirties.”

You smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. It was knowing, understanding.

“I mean growing up from the trauma.” Your voice softened. “Bucky, both of us were stuck as kids because of what happened to us. Our pasts kept us frozen in time. But I don’t want to stay stuck anymore. I want to move forward. I want to leave the trauma behind.”

Bucky didn’t say anything. He couldn't.

“The reason I didn’t come back,” you continued, “is because I still love you. And that terrifies me. I’m running away because I can’t be near you without feeling everything too much.”

Bucky sucked in a slow breath.

This was the first time anyone had ever said those words to him like this—with honesty, with vulnerability. It was the first time he had ever received a love confession that wasn’t transactional, that wasn’t tied to expectations.

And he didn’t know what to do with it.

You stepped back. “I hope that the next time we meet, everything will be different.”

Bucky watched as you walked away, disappearing into the crowd. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe for a long moment. Then, slowly, he let out a shaky exhale.

Something was shifting inside him, something he didn’t have a name for. It wasn’t just loss. It wasn’t just regret.

It was something deeper.

A few moments later, he pulled out his phone and dialed his therapist.

When the call connected, his voice came out rough, almost reluctant.

“I think I’m starting to have… sexual desires toward her.”

There was silence on the other end.

Then, finally, his therapist sighed.

“Well, Bucky,” they said, “it looks like you’re finally catching up to your emotions.”

He decided to leave you alone, but that didn’t mean he stopped caring. No matter what, you had been there for him for two years. Marriage contract or not, you left a lasting impression on his life.

When he returned, his grandfather was waiting for him, clearly hoping you would step off the plane with Bucky.

When he saw Bucky coming down alone, Tom clicked his tongue. “You’re an idiot.”

Bucky sighed. “Give her time. She’ll be back.” Even though he's not sure when you'll be back.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

One Year Later

The café inside the park was quiet, tucked away between tall trees and winding pathways. The morning sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled light onto the wooden tables.

Bucky sat alone, a tablet in one hand, a coffee cup in the other. He scrolled through reports, half-reading, half-listening to the sounds around him—the soft chatter of other patrons, the occasional bark of a dog, the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Then, a voice behind him made him nearly drop his tablet.

“I see you’re still a workaholic.”

His heart clenched. He knew that voice.

Slowly, he turned around—and there you were.

You stood before him, looking different yet familiar. Your skin was sun-kissed, your hair slightly lighter, and your presence felt… freer. There was an ease in your posture, a confidence in your stance that hadn’t been there before.

For a moment, Bucky just stared, as if making sure you were real. Then, a small smile tugged at his lips.

“I don’t work as much as I used to,” he admitted.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you pulled out a chair and sat across from him. “Really? Who’s been keeping up with all your work, then?”

“My parents.”

That made you pause. “Your parents?”

He nodded, setting down his tablet. “Yeah. I finally faced it. The whole mess.”

And it had been a mess. For years, he had avoided confronting the real cause of his fears—his childhood. He thought that refusing to engage in relationships was an act of defiance, proof that he had broken free from his parents' toxic cycle. But in reality, he had been trapped just like them. Stuck in the same story, just playing a different role.

It wasn’t fair.

They had lived their lives—moving on, getting remarried, collecting younger lovers, burning through money—while he had been the one frozen in time, afraid to take a single step forward.

So he had done something drastic.

He had cut them off.

No more allowances, no more endless funds. Their luxurious lifestyles had been fueled by company profits, and Bucky had put an end to it.

“This company is not a charity,” he had told them. “You’ve used its assets to fund your lifestyles for too long. If I let this continue, we’ll go down in history as the first corporation to bankrupt itself paying alimony.”

His father had been furious. His mother had scoffed. But in the end, they had no choice. They had to start working.

They had been terrible parents. But, ironically, they turned out to be decent employees.

"Both of them have stopped acting childish," he said. His parents had also stopped playing the roles of sugar daddy and cougar. It turned out money was the solution.

Now, here he was, sitting across from the one person he had waited a year to see again.

"I fixed my relationship with my parents, especially my dad," you replied.

"That's good to hear," he responded.

After spending some time with your dad, you realized that without the rivalry, he's an easygoing person. You started contacting him daily.

“Why did you come back?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “Does this mean you don’t love me anymore?”

Your gaze softened. “No. I never stopped loving you.” You smiled, almost shyly. “I just had a feeling this time would be different.”

Bucky exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair. “I see. So you’ve completed your self-discovery?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

The conversation between you flowed effortlessly, lighter than it had ever been. You talked about your travels, the people you had met, and the experiences that had changed you. Bucky listened, occasionally throwing in a sarcastic remark or a teasing comment, making you laugh. It felt easy—natural.

Then, as if it were nothing, you casually said, “I broke my leg climbing down a mountain.”

“What?!” His eyes widened, panic flashing through them.

You laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Some nuns from a nearby chapel helped me. They took care of me for a month.”

Bucky frowned, his mind racing. So that’s why you didn’t post an update for a month.

You nodded. “Yeah. They prayed for me.” Then, after a pause, you admitted, “I’ve never prayed before. But I started to. Admitting my anger, my sins… it made the weight feel lighter. I guess I’m sharing my burdens with God now.” You studied his reaction carefully. “Do you think I’ve turned into a religious freak?”

Bucky shook his head. “No. As long as you found peace.”

Silence settled between you, but it was a comfortable one.

Eventually, he cleared his throat. “Do you want something to drink?”

You grinned. “Yes.”

“Caramel Macchiato, hot, less sugar… right?”

You blinked, then gave him a thumbs-up. He smirked before getting up and heading toward the cashier.

When he returned, he placed the coffee in front of you, watching as you took a small sip.

Then you said, “On my way here, I passed by a cinema playing Interstellar.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered with interest. That was his favorite movie—the one he always watched when he had time alone.

“Really?”

“You interested?” You pulled out two tickets and held them up.

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Let’s go.”

As you both walked side by side, he glanced at you.

“You know,” he said, “you could share your burdens with me too.”

You turned to him, your expression unreadable.

Was that… a proposal?

Bucky continued, his tone calm but firm. “We’ve known each other for two years. You left for one. And yet, you came back with the same feelings. And I waited a year for you to come back.”

Your heart pounded.

This time, it wasn’t just a contract. It wasn’t a transaction.

It was something real. Something earned.

And for the first time, you weren’t afraid of it.

This time, there was a difference between them.

Before, they had been trapped—chained to the past, repeating old patterns, clinging to wounds that refused to heal. They had mistaken their pain for identity, their fears for inevitability.

But now, they had changed.

Not because time had passed, but because they had made the choice to move forward.

They had faced their demons, made peace with their scars, and learned to let go. Bucky was no longer a man protesting love out of spite. And you were no longer someone running away to find yourself.

You had both found your own way—separately.

And yet, in the end, that path had led you back to each other.

-The End-

Epilogue:

Bucky suddenly remembered something. “I should call Grandpa to let him know you’re back.”

You chuckled. “Oh, I already met him when I landed. That’s how I knew where to find you.”

Bucky smiled and shook his head. Even after a year, you still cared about Tom.

After watching the movie, he will take you to meet Tom. His grandpa will welcome you with open arms and finally stop calling him an "idiot."

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[heartsriki]

CANDY HEARTS ⌇마음

FLIRT ALERT! series⌇Sim Jaeyun | Next

pairing ᝰ jake x fem!reader | word count: 4.0k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ co-workers to lovers, fluff, kissing, light teasing, semi-oblivious reader.

synopsis — You and Jake are co-workers at a candy shop. You are content by just doing your job, until someone leaves little candy hearts with cheesy, cryptic messages for you every shift. At first, You think it’s just a quirky joke—until the messages start feeling a little too personal, and you begin to wonder if this is more than just fun and games.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊guys this might be my favorite fic Ive written.. may this love find me (PLEASEUHH)

The first time it happened, you didn’t think much of it.

It was a slow afternoon at Sugar Rush, the tiny candy shop where you worked part-time. The scent of warm caramel and melted chocolate clung to the air, mixing with the faint tartness of fruit gummies from the bins near the register. You were restocking a jar of cinnamon drops when you noticed a small candy heart sitting beside the cash register, pastel pink with tiny white letters stamped across it.

You Make Me Melt.

You assumed it had fallen out of a bag, maybe left behind by a customer. It wasn’t unusual for people to sneak a piece or two while browsing, even though there were very clear “NO SAMPLES” signs posted all over the place. With a shrug, you popped it into your pocket and moved on.

The second time, you started to wonder.

This time, the candy heart was perched on the tip jar, wedged between a crumpled dollar bill and some loose quarters. It was green, a little faded, and read: You’re My Favorite Treat.

You frowned, glancing around the shop. Jake was a few feet away, lazily refilling a bin of sour belts. He had a bad habit of getting distracted, usually by sneaking a few pieces for himself, but at the moment, he seemed content just swaying along to the pop song playing through the store’s speakers.

“Hey, Jake,” you called, holding up the tiny candy. “Did you leave this here?”

He turned, eyebrows raised, then took a few steps closer, peering at the candy heart in your palm. “Hmm,” he hummed, lips twitching like he was fighting a smile. “Looks like someone’s got a secret admirer.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right. Because nothing screams romance like mass-produced sugar with weird messages on them.”

Jake grinned. “Hey, don’t underestimate the power of candy. Love and sugar go hand in hand.”

You huffed, but didn’t push further. Maybe someone really had left it there by accident. Or maybe Jake was just messing with you—he was the type to do something like that just to see how long it would take you to notice. Either way, you tossed the heart aside and got back to work.

But then it kept happening.

Every shift, without fail, another candy heart would appear. Sometimes on the register, sometimes on the shelf beside the fudge display, once even in your apron pocket. They were never the generic ‘Be Mine’ messages. No, these were different. More… personal and sometimes they even came with notes.

Bet You Think This is a Coincidence.

You hum when you count the register, did you notice that?

Your nose scrunches when you’re trying not to laugh.

I like the way you say my name.

That last one made you stop.

You turned the tiny candy over between your fingers, a slow warmth creeping up your neck. This wasn’t just a random joke anymore. Whoever was leaving these wasn’t playing around.

the message was staring back at you like it was waiting for you to put the pieces together. But you didn’t. It was just a dumb piece of candy, right? A quirky prank, maybe. Nothing more.

Still, the words lingered longer than you wanted them to.

Shaking it off, you shoved the candy into your apron pocket and turned your attention back to the shelves. The display of chocolate truffles had gotten messy again—probably thanks to the group of kids who’d come in earlier, pressing their sticky fingers against the glass case while begging their parents for more sweets. You crouched down, carefully rearranging the rows, making sure each piece was perfectly aligned.

From behind you, Jake’s voice cut through the quiet hum of the shop.

“You know, you’re really dedicated to those chocolates.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t turn around. “Well, considering I work here, yeah. Kind of comes with the job.”

Jake chuckled. “Sure, but I’ve never seen someone so passionate about symmetry. It’s almost impressive.”

You heard the sound of a stool scraping against the floor and knew without looking that he’d made himself comfortable on the other side of the counter. He had a habit of doing that—watching you work instead of doing his own tasks. Not that he was lazy. If anything, Jake was weirdly good at his job when he actually put in the effort. But more often than not, he liked to hover, cracking jokes and tossing gummy bears in the air like he had all the time in the world.

“You’re just looking for an excuse to get out of stocking the licorice again,” you muttered.

“Maybe.” His tone was light, teasing. “Or maybe I just enjoy watching you concentrate so hard. It’s like… adorable but also kind of terrifying.”

You scoffed and finally turned to look at him. He was perched on the stool, elbow resting against the counter, his fingers idly spinning a wrapped caramel. His brown eyes glinted with amusement, but there was something else there too—something unreadable.

For half a second, you wondered—

No.

No, this was Jake. The same guy who once spent an entire shift trying to convince you that the gummy worms were alive. The same guy who had gotten his hand stuck in a taffy machine and acted like it was the funniest thing in the world. The same guy who—

“You’re staring.”

You blinked, heat creeping up your neck. “I’m not.”

Jake smirked. “Pretty handsome, right?”

“Shut up.” You huffed and turned back to your chocolates, determined to ignore him. “Go do your job, Jake.”

“Yes, boss,” he said, and you could hear the laughter in his voice.

As you straightened up, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye—a tiny, heart-shaped candy resting near the caramel display, just barely visible behind a stack of boxes. A fresh one.

You swallowed, glancing toward Jake, who was now whistling as he walked toward the licorice section.

You shook your head. No way.

It was probably just a coincidence.

The rest of the shift passed in a comfortable rhythm—restocking shelves, ringing up customers, and trying not to get roped into one of Jake’s ridiculous debates (this time, he was insisting that caramel was superior to chocolate.).

But by the time the evening rush hit, you were starting to feel it. The weight of the long day pressed into your shoulders, your feet aching from standing too long. You weren’t about to complain, though. It wasn’t like working there was particularly difficult—just repetitive.

Jake, on the other hand, seemed as energetic as ever. He practically bounced between tasks, chatting with customers, sneaking pieces of candy when he thought you weren’t looking, and somehow still managing to keep things running smoothly. It was unfair, really, how effortless he made everything seem.

You were wiping down the counter when a little girl, maybe six or seven, shyly approached the register, clutching a bag of chocolate coins. She barely reached over the counter, her curly pigtails bobbing as she peeked up at you with wide eyes.

“Hi there,” you greeted, offering her a small smile. “Is this everything for you?”

She nodded, then hesitated. “Um… I don’t think I have enough money.”

You glanced at the bag in her hands and then at the crumpled bills she carefully pulled from her pocket. She was short by at least a dollar.

Before you could say anything, Jake swooped in, leaning casually against the counter beside you. “Hey, kiddo,” he said, crouching down slightly to her level. “You know what? Today’s your lucky day. We’ve got a special deal going on.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “A deal?”

Jake nodded solemnly. “Yep. It’s called the ‘Awesome Kid Discount.’” He plucked the bag from her hands, scanned it, and subtly covered the difference with a few coins from his own pocket. “And guess what? You totally qualify.”

Her face broke into the biggest grin. “Really?”

“Really,” Jake confirmed, handing her the bag. “But you gotta promise me one thing.”

She leaned in, waiting eagerly.

“Make sure you enjoy every single piece, okay?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “I will! Thank you, mister!”

Jake grinned as she ran off toward her waiting parents, practically bouncing with excitement. When he straightened, he caught you staring.

“What?” he asked, flashing that boyish smirk of his.

You shook your head, crossing your arms. “That was… really sweet of you.”

He shrugged like it was nothing, reaching for the spray bottle to wipe down the counter. “Eh, it’s just a couple of coins. Besides, how could I say no to that face?”

You didn’t respond right away. It wasn’t about the money, and you both knew it. Jake had a way of making people feel special, like they mattered. Whether it was an old customer who’d been coming in for years or a little kid with a few crumpled dollars, he always made time for them.

You turned back to the register, but your stomach felt strangely warm.

It was probably just the sugar in the air.

Right?

By the time the shop started winding down for the night, you were exhausted. There was still closing work to do—mopping the floors, refilling displays, making sure the candy bins were sealed properly—but just thinking about it made your muscles ache.

Jake must have noticed because the moment you sighed, he grabbed the mop from the back closet and waved you off.

“Go sit,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. “I got this.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

He jerked his chin toward the counter. “Seriously. Go. You’ve been on your feet all day.”

You frowned. “So have you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t complain about it,” he teased.

“I wasn’t—”

He raised a brow, daring you to argue.

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Fine. But just for a minute.”

Jake smirked, clearly pleased with himself, and got to work. And as much as you wanted to be stubborn, you had to admit—it was kind of nice, watching him take over without question, moving easily through the store like he belonged there. Like he was looking out for you.

You wouldn’t think too much about that, though.

You were just tired. That was all.

You walked into the store to find Jake already behind the counter, spinning a lollipop between his fingers like he had nothing better to do. The bell above the door chimed as you stepped inside, and he glanced up, his face lighting up like it always did when he saw you.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, pushing off the counter. “I thought you called out.”

You rolled your eyes, tossing your bag into the back room before tying your apron around your waist. “You act like I’m late.”

“No, but you are predictable. Same routine, same time, same sigh when you walk through that door.”

You blinked at him. “I don’t sigh.”

“You do sigh,” Jake insisted, leaning against the counter. “It’s like a little huff, right before you clock in. Like you’re mentally preparing yourself for another day of dealing with me.”

You snorted. “I am mentally preparing myself for that.”

Jake clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch. And here I thought we were friends.”

You shook your head, fighting back a smile. It was always like this with Jake—teasing, effortless, like the two of you had been friends forever instead of just co-workers.

As you stepped behind the counter, something caught your eye. Right beside the register, nestled between a stack of receipt paper and a jar of lollipops, sat another tiny candy heart.

You froze.

It was pale yellow this time, stamped with the words: Did You Miss Me?

Your fingers twitched at your side.

It had been a couple of days since the last one. You’d almost forgotten about them, chalking it up to some random prank or a coincidence you didn’t care enough to figure out. But now, seeing another one sitting there so blatantly—like it had been waiting for you—you couldn’t ignore it.

Jake’s voice broke through your thoughts.

“You okay?”

You glanced up to find him watching you, head tilted, curiosity flickering in his warm brown eyes.

You quickly scooped up the candy heart, rolling it between your fingers. “Yeah, just… found another one of these.”

Jake’s gaze flickered to the tiny candy in your palm, then back up to your face. His lips twitched, but he said nothing.

You sighed. “Are you sure you don’t know where these are coming from?”

He shrugged, feigning innocence. “Maybe you do have a secret admirer.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

Jake leaned in slightly, resting his elbows on the counter. “What? You don’t think someone could have a little crush on you?”

Your breath hitched before you could stop it. His tone was teasing, but there was something else behind it—something softer, something unreadable.

You swallowed, glancing back down at the candy heart.

If this was some secret admirer situation… why did it feel like Jake was the only person who could possibly be behind it?

The shift passed in a blur of ringing up customers, restocking shelves, and dodging Jake’s ridiculous antics. But no matter how much you tried to focus, your mind kept drifting back to that tiny candy heart still sitting in your apron pocket.

Jake had definitely been smirking when you asked about it. And the way he said secret admirer? That lingering tone, the way his eyes stayed on you a beat too long—it was messing with your head.

But this was Jake. Your annoying, playful, way-too-charming-for-his-own-good co-worker. He flirted with everyone. Right?

So why did it feel different when it was you?

You were restocking a shelf of assorted chocolate bars when you felt a presence behind you. Before you could turn, Jake reached over your shoulder, grabbing a candy bar from the top shelf. His arm brushed yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him at your back.

“Need help?” His voice was low, teasing, way too close to your ear.

You tensed. “I’m literally already doing it.”

“Yeah, but I figured I’d make myself useful.”

You glanced over your shoulder—big mistake. He was close, leaning in just enough that you could see the faint dimple in his cheek, the warm brown of his eyes focused solely on you.

Your stomach flipped.

He was definitely messing with you.

You huffed, grabbing the candy bar from his hand and shoving it back on the shelf. “If you’re so desperate to be useful, go clean up the display case.”

Jake chuckled but stepped back, raising his hands in surrender. “Yes, ma’am.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

The worst part? He wasn’t even really flirting. At least, not in a way that would make it obvious. He was just being Jake—close, playful, always toeing the line between teasing and something else.

Your first mistake was answering Jake’s messages.

Your second mistake was letting him talk you into whatever this was.

“I still don’t understand how this happened,” you grumbled as you trudged alongside him down the sidewalk.

Jake stuffed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, a lazy grin on his face. “It’s simple. I called, you answered, I suggested we hang out, and boom—here we are.”

“You ambushed me.”

He scoffed. “Ambushed? No. Strategically intercepted? Maybe.”

You shot him a look. He had definitely intercepted you. One minute, you were leaving the bookstore with a new novel tucked under your arm, and the next, Jake appeared out of nowhere, falling into step beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He had gasped dramatically upon seeing you. “Fancy running into you here. What a coincidence! What are the odds?”

(Zero. The odds were zero. He had texted earlier asking what you were doing, and like a fool, you told him.)

Now, you were headed toward some vague destination he refused to tell you about, half-annoyed, half… intrigued.

“Seriously, where are we going?” you asked as you dodged a crack in the pavement.

Jake grinned. “You’ll see.”

Not long after, you arrived at a small, tucked-away arcade nestled between two larger buildings. The neon sign flickered slightly, and through the glass doors, you could see rows of game machines blinking with colorful lights.

You raised a brow. “An arcade?”

Jake shrugged. “Figured we could use a break from all the sophisticated, mature work we do at the candy shop.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, stacking chocolate bars is so top notch.”

He laughed, holding the door open for you. “C’mon, humor me.”

The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia—the hum of machines, the occasional chime of a jackpot, the sound of kids groaning in defeat.

Jake immediately made a beeline for the change machine, exchanging a few bills for a handful of tokens. He tossed one in your direction.

“You are playing,” he said before you could protest.

You sighed but pocketed the token. “Fine. But I’m picking the game.”

Jake smirked. “Deal.”

It turned out, you were ridiculously good at air hockey.

Jake, however, refused to take his losses with grace.

“No way,” he said as you sent the puck flying past him for the fifth time in a row. “You’re cheating.”

You smirked, resting your mallet on the table. “I’m winning.”

He pointed at you. “Same thing.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Maybe you’re just bad at this.”

Jake narrowed his eyes. “Okay, you know what? New challenge.”

Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist and tugged you toward the claw machines.

You stumbled slightly at the sudden contact, your pulse skipping for reasons you refused to acknowledge. “What—”

“You think you’re good? Let’s see you win something from here.”

You scoffed. “Oh, this is how you’re gonna redeem yourself? A game literally designed to scam people?”

Jake grinned. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

With a sigh, you stepped up to the machine. The glass case was filled with plushies, some cuter than others. One in particular caught your eye—a small, stuffed bear with a red bow.

You fed a token into the slot, gripping the joystick. Jake leaned in closer, watching intently.

“Alright,” he murmured. “No pressure.”

His shoulder brushed yours, the warmth of him distracting in a way that should not have mattered. You tried to ignore it, focusing on maneuvering the claw just right.

You pressed the button, holding your breath as the claw descended… grabbed… lifted…

And dropped the bear at the last second.

You groaned. “I hate this game.”

Jake laughed. “Alright, alright. Move aside, rookie.”

You stepped back, crossing your arms as he took his turn. He was all confidence, cracking his knuckles like this was some grand mission. You watched as he carefully maneuvered the claw, his brows furrowed in concentration.

He pressed the button. The claw dropped, grabbed the bear…

And actually held onto it.

Your jaw dropped. “No way.”

Jake turned to you, smug. “See? Just takes skill.”

You rolled your eyes. “Or dumb luck.”

Ignoring you, he retrieved the plushie and—without hesitation—pressed it into your hands.

Your fingers curled around the soft fabric. “What…?”

Jake stuffed his hands back into his pockets, suddenly avoiding your gaze. “You wanted it, right?”

Your heart stuttered.

It was such a simple thing, really. Just a stuffed bear. Just a silly arcade game.

But the way he had given it to you—so casual, so Jake—made something warm settle in your chest.

You swallowed. “Thanks.”

Jake shot you a lopsided grin, the tension slipping away. “Don’t mention it.”

An hour later, after too many games and way too much laughter, you found yourself sitting on the curb outside, sipping a milkshake while Jake scrolled through his phone beside you.

“This was fun,” you admitted, surprising even yourself.

Jake glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He smirked. “Told you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t get a big head about it.”

Jake chuckled, then took a long sip of his drink. After a moment, he said, “So… if this was a date—”

“It wasn’t.”

“—but if it was,” he continued, ignoring you, “would it have been a good one?”

You hesitated, then glanced at the stuffed bear still tucked under your arm.

You exhaled, tilting your head at him. “Maybe.”

Jake grinned. “I’ll take it.”

The next shift started like any other—except now, you couldn’t unsee it.

The teasing, the little moments that lingered just a second too long, the way Jake always seemed to be watching you with some kind of quiet amusement.

And, of course, the candy hearts.

You found one waiting for you by the register as soon as you clocked in. Soft pink, with the words:

You Think About Me, Don’t You?

Your stomach flipped.

It was getting harder to ignore the truth.

The candy hearts weren’t random. They weren’t some inside joke or coincidence.

They were from Jake.

And you were pretty sure he wanted you to figure it out.

Halfway through your shift, you decided you were going to catch him in the act.

For weeks, he had been slipping those candy hearts into your space without you noticing. That meant he had to be sneaky—waiting until you were distracted, picking moments when your back was turned.

So, you planned accordingly.

You made yourself look busy, stacking lollipops near the front, organizing shelves that were already perfectly fine. But out of the corner of your eye, you watched him.

And sure enough, after about fifteen minutes, he made his move.

You saw it happen in real time—Jake, casually leaning against the counter, fiddling with a bag of chocolates while you pretended not to notice. Then, when he thought you weren’t looking, he reached into his pocket and slipped a tiny candy heart onto the counter beside your register.

Gotcha.

You whirled around just as he was about to step away. “You!”

Jake froze mid-step. “Me?”

You pointed at the candy heart. “You.”

He glanced at the heart on the counter, then back at you, face unreadable. “…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, really? So that just magically appeared out of nowhere?”

Jake shrugged, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Maybe the candy shop is haunted.”

You snorted. “Yeah, haunted by you.”

Jake grinned, but there was something different about it this time—something softer. “Alright, fine. You caught me.”

Your breath hitched slightly. Even though you had known, hearing him admit it sent a strange, fluttery feeling through your chest.

“So… all this time?” you asked, voice quieter.

Jake nodded. “All this time.”

You swallowed. “Why?”

He held your gaze, something unreadable in his eyes. “What do you think?”

You didn’t have an answer. Or maybe you did, but saying it out loud felt like too much.

Jake must have sensed it, because instead of pushing, he reached into his pocket again and pulled out another candy heart.

He held it up between two fingers, letting you read the words stamped across the surface.

Kiss Me.

The air between you changed.

Jake meant it as a joke—probably. His smirk was still there, but you could see the way his fingers twitched slightly, the way his breathing slowed just a fraction.

He wasn’t expecting you to take him seriously.

Which is exactly why you did.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you stepped forward, grabbed the front of his apron, and pressed your lips against his.

Jake made a startled noise against your mouth—like he hadn’t actually thought this far ahead—but then he melted into it, his hands instinctively finding your waist.

It was sweet, a little clumsy, the faint taste of sugar lingering between you.

When you finally pulled away, Jake just… stared at you.

Completely caught off guard. Completely flustered.

You had never seen him speechless before. It was kind of amazing.

Finally, after a long moment, he blinked.

“…So, uh,” he said, voice slightly hoarse. “You did get the message.”

You smirked. “Took me long enough.”

Jake exhaled a laugh, shaking his head. “You just kissed me in the middle of our shift.”

“You literally asked me to.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

You shrugged, turning back to the register like your heart wasn’t racing. “Well, maybe next time, don’t challenge me.”

Jake just watched you, a dazed smile on his face.

“…Next time, huh?”

Series Taglist — next • prev

@saphiranishimurashan @elairah @baribaaari @m1kkso @letwiiparkjay @jellyluv4eva @manuosorioh @moontyun @mbsnow @taesanoreohair @tiny-shiny @glimmerinaaa @e-r-i-15 @starbyeol1512

- if you weren’t tagged you need to fix your visibility!

[wizardandpirate]

Info for my Lil' Doey AU

I don't know how much I'll do for this, I honestly wasn't planning on continuing it initially, but I want to now:] I've got at least one more art piece in the works^^

Could anyone tell me what color each kid is? Q-Q I've seen so many people putting Jack as yellow, but I could've sworn he was wearing an orange shirt when he fell in. Until I figure it out in the future I'll make Jack yellow and Matthew orange.

What is this AU?

The lil' Doey/Small Doey AU is one where, with every bit of denial I could put into it, Doey is still alive. Instead of dying, he split into the 3 children used to make him. This leads to the player finding and trying to take care of them all while looking for a way out.

How they meet

The player will have hid from Huggy for about a week I think? Which is a long time, but my excuse is the prototype enjoys the hunt too much and Poppy managed to evade him for long enough that the player wasn't a main focus.

Jack will have been secretly sneaking the player food and such, too afraid to get close.

The player would meet Matthew after being rescued by him from Huggy. He would kind of apologize, telling them they could punish him for what happened if needed, but that the other 2 don't deserve to be out there alone.

They'd meet Jack after putting the clues together he'd been leaving the food around. The poor thing would be incredibly scared, but calm down a lot upon seeing Matthew.

Kissy would find them after a bit of exploring and looking for Kevin, because how could she not be part of this family? Still needs a lot of medical attention, but would be very relieved to see you and not be alone.

Kevin would be found in a very damaged looking room, where it looks like he'd been throwing stuff around in an angry/scared tantrum. Wouldn't want to go with the player, and insist you should want to kill him.

Additional lore/ideas

Matthew would have a hard time accepting the player as a guardian figure, not understanding how to be taken care of rather than take care of. He'd have a hard time being reminded he's still a kid, that he's enough, and did his best.

Jack would be struck with the realization of what he did to his parents. Without the memories of the other two kind of mudding up what happened, he'd fully understand, having a hard time not hating himself for it.

Kevin would try so hard to hate the player and struggle so much with being cared for, appreciated, and not lied to. He would help you if it came down to it, but wouldn't want to admit he's almost comfortable.

Kissy wouldn't really know what to do, because without Poppy, trust would be hard. But I think she'd like feeling part of a family again, and not being relied on so much like she was by Poppy.

I don't know if it's canon but I hc the toys have little to no memories of who they were before, and barely understand who they are now, so the player would probably have to tell them what they know about their lives before:(

As for if they'd make it out or not... uhh, you can decide!:) I'd really only focus on their story while still trying to escape, maybe doodle a concept or two on if they'd made it out as a family. But as for now I've got no idea on if they would or not.

[thebreakfastgenie]

so as the most educated Joelologist I know, when did Vienna become his most popular song? I grew up with parents who saw him multiple times in the 70s, he is my childhood, and it's a great song, but it's never been one I knew as like most famous? Yet it tops streaming charts and wins all polls. Did some film/tv show/fandom grab onto it and have a revival? But I feel like in my life so many other songs have been bigger for him

I'm not sure the exact year because time is a soup, but within the last three years or so. It had already taken off in popularity by the time I saw him in January 2023 because it was in the setlist and he commented on it but it's grown more since then I think. But I want to say around 2022? Zanzibar had a trend on the cursed clock app in I think 2021 and I think the Vienna ascent happened shortly after that. I remember some people on twitter being aware of it in 2021 but I think it was still more niche.

It was used in 13 Going on 30 which is probably a big part of it but it's not clear why it took almost 20 years after the movie came out in 2004 for the song to take off. Maybe because of streaming and social media.

You are correct that it was never one of his most famous songs!!!! It was never a single. It was always a popular favorite among serious fans (the breakfastgenies of the past) and it's one of his personal favorites but it was kind of the classic hidden gem. I have mixed feelings about it being so big now honestly!! Yeah it's one of his best songs but it wasn't meant for this! And I don't want him to get tired of it although he still likes You May Be Right and Scenes from an Italian Restaurant so we could be okay there. But it was just not meant to be one of two Billy Joel songs people know!!! It's kinda funny when people find out Vienna isn't on any of the greatest hits compilations until 50 Years of the Piano Man in 2022. They released an animated music video for it last year and people were shocked there wasn't a video for it before.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Not The Abandoning Type – Tyler Owens

I jumped awake, my entire body shaking as I tried to snap out of my nightmare. I quickly turned on the light on my bedside table. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I kept repeating my mantra to try and snap out of it.

"It was weeks ago. It was weeks ago. It was weeks ago."

Suddenly, my best friend popped into my mind. Tyler Owens has been interested in tornados for as long as I've known him. While I studied human anatomy, he studied weather. We bonded over a science project in 8th grade. That year, we won the science fair and found comfort in nerding out with each other.

The only time Tyler and I were ever separated was when I went to MIT for neuroscience and behavior. After college, I came home and started working in a research lab. As soon as I came back, Tyler called me and we instantly went back to being best friends. That is, until a month ago.

A month ago, I was working in my lab when a tornado hit. My lab was completely destroyed. I spent five hours hiding in the storm cellar. The tornado was only about fifteen minutes but it took over four hours for them to clear the area and find survivors. When they pulled me out of the storm cellar, the street was gone. The only thing you could see was debris. And the bodies of people who weren't so lucky.

I moved back in with my parents due to my townhome being hit in the storm, too. Ever since I moved back in, I haven't gone anywhere. I stay at home all day and sort through my files that weren't destroyed in the storm. My phone rings a couple of times a day, but I ignore it.

I was watching TV while my Mom was at the store. I quickly changed the channel when it started showing debris from a nearby town. I didn't relax until I found a channel playing a small TV movie. My phone was ringing upstairs, but I didn't bother to go get it. Both my parents knew that if they needed to get a hold of me, I would only answer the house phone.

Someone knocked on the door so I slowly got up to answer it. When I opened the door, the smile of my childhood best friend greeted me.

"Hiya, darling."

"Hi, Tyler," I said softly. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," he said, slightly clearing his throat, "you haven't been answering your phone. I've tried calling you every day for the past month."

"Sorry," I shrugged, turning my attention to his red truck in the street. My anxiety spiked when I saw the rain clouds rolling in. "I've been a little. . . distracted."

"I understand that," he tried to laugh. "Want to go get something to eat?"

"No thanks," I shook my head, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Have you left your parents' house at all since the storm?" He asked. I looked at him, instantly seeing the worry in his eyes.

"I don't have anywhere to go," I shrugged. "My lab was destroyed. So was my apartment."

"Y/N. . ." He started to say but didn't finish his thought. Instead, he smiled like he had an idea. "What if we did one of our all-night movie nights? We could order pizza and fall asleep while watching as many movies as we can."

"Sure," I mumbled. Without saying anything else, I turned around and headed to the kitchen. Tyler sighed before following me, closing the front door behind him.

I started making popcorn as he walked in. He leaned against the counter and I could feel that he wanted to talk. I grabbed the popcorn out of the microwave when it was ready and poured it into a bowl. He didn't say anything as I headed upstairs. I walked into my room with him at my heels.

"Y/N. . ." He started to say again. This time, he was cut off by a large crash of lightning.

I jumped, covering my mouth when there was a flash of lightning outside. In an instant, Tyler was at my side. He gently grabbed my shaking hands, pulling them away from my mouth. He then pulled me into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around me. I let out an involuntary shriek when thunder echoed throughout the room.

"It's okay," Tyler whispered. "It's just a little rainstorm. Nothing else." He paused before adding, "Tell me about the tornado."

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, pulling myself out of our embrace.

"Y/N, maybe we should. . ." He started to say.

"I said I don't want to!" I snapped at him. "I constantly replay it in my mind, Tyler. I don't want to talk about it."

"Talking about it can help."

"How?" I scoffed. "Talking about it is not going to make the memories go away. It's not going to suddenly make everything better."

"It can help you work through it."

"How would you know? You willingly run into storms, Tyler. Not all of us are brave. Not all of us are fearless. Some of us belong in labs, not chasing damn tornados."

"Y/N. . ." He stuttered.

"You should go," I cut him off.

"But. . ."

"Please," I said, my voice breaking. "Just go."

I turned away from him, wrapping my arms tightly around myself, now facing my window. I could see Tyler debating in the mirror on my vanity. He studied me, maybe waiting for me to turn around. My heart sank into my stomach when he let out a disappointed sigh.

I looked at the ground, tears threatening to stream down my face as I heard Tyler's retreating footsteps. When I heard the front door open and close, I instantly lifted my head and searched for him. My heart jumped when I saw him walking down our front path.

I watched from my bedroom window as Tyler slightly hesitated at the end of our walkway. My breath got caught in my throat when he looked up and over his shoulder. He sighed before walking the rest of the way to his car. He threw his bag in the backseat from the front before climbing in.

I was just about to turn away from the window but stopped when I noticed Tyler not closing his truck door. My heart rate sped up when Tyler jumped out of his truck and jogged back inside. I turned toward my bedroom door when I heard the front door swing open and shut.

My breathing got quicker as I heard his footsteps pounding up the stairs. I let out a small gasp when my bedroom door was roughly pushed open.

"I ain't doing this, darling," he said, out of breath.

"Doing what?" I stuttered. He smirked as he took a few steps into my room.

"I'm not leaving you," he clarified. "I'm not the abandoning type."

My breathing sped up as he closed the gap between us. When he was directly in front of me, he gently grabbed my hands and pulled me closer.

"You need to talk about this, Y/N," he whispered. "What you went through, was not little. It was scary and you've been keeping all of it inside. You need to let it out. Please, Y/N, let it out. That's the only way you are going to get past all of this.

"And who better to talk to than the guy who chases tornados for a living?" I teased him.

"That," he smirked. He paused before adding, "And the guy who loves you with all his heart."

I studied the expression on his face to see if he was doing his usual teasing, but all I could see was love.

"Any girl would trust the guy she loved."

Tyler let go of my hands and gently grabbed my face. I held my breath as he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to mine. We soon relaxed against each other. Tyler kept his hands on my face as I grabbed his waist. As our lips started moving in sync, I pulled him closer to me.

He was the one to break the kiss, instantly leaning his forehead against mine. "I love you, darling," he whispered. "So you have to understand why I can't walk away and let you keep suffering in silence."

I leaned back, avoiding his eyes. I wanted this pain to go away, but I wasn't sure I was ready to talk about it. Tyler gently grabbed my chin and made me look back up at him. The second I saw his soft eyes staring at me, I knew he was the only one I could talk to. Tears filled my eyes as the events of a month ago started replaying in my mind. The second he saw the tears, he pulled me into his chest.

"It was horrible," I sobbed into his shirt. I felt him sigh as he tightened his arms around me. "I can't stop feeling the building shake. I can't stop hearing the howling of the winds. I can't stop seeing the destruction. Every time I close my eyes I see the bodies being dragged into the air. I can't sleep without reliving every moment of it."

"I'm so sorry, darling," he said under his breath. "I wish I was there. I wish I had been on your campus. I wish I had been with you in your lab. I could've gotten you out. I could've gotten you somewhere safe. I could've held you and told you everything was going to be okay. I could've helped you. I'm so sorry I wasn't."

"It's not your fault," I mumbled, slowly calming down.

"I would've been if I had gone to school with you," he sighed. I pulled out of his embrace and looked up at him.

"Ty," I said softly, "you do amazing work. You've helped hundreds of people all over the state. If you had gone to school with me. . . All those people you've helped. . . None of it would've happened."

"True," he said, dropping his voice again, "but I would've been with you."

Tyler leaned in and pressed his lips gently to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I kissed him back. We broke the kiss but remained close to each other.

"Do you have nightmares?" He asked. I looked down and slowly nodded my head. He sighed as he readjusted his arms around me. "What do you do when you wake up from one of them?"

"Nothing," I stuttered.

"Not anymore," he shook his head. "Now, you call the guy who loves you."

"As long as he's okay receiving a call from the girl who loves him at 2, sometimes 3, in the morning."

Tyler gently grabbed my face and pressed his lips to mine. He broke the kiss with a smirk on his face.

"I want nothing more than to be woken up to a call from the girl I love telling me she needs me."

[jayaawrites]

To All The Boys I’ve Accidentally Hit Send To

A/N: This is my first fic!! it’s a To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before AU but with the JJK men, I’m hoping to be able to make this into a multi chapter fic so…. please give me feedback!!

Sometimes, there are moments of complete dramatic irony where all you can do is try your best not to laugh. This moment, where you and Yuki are sitting next to each other, is one of them. The two of you are sprawled across your couch, catching up on Bridgerton as you do every Friday after rehearsal. Her hands are fiddling with the remote, while her eyes are glued to the screen, mesmerized by the scene playing before you.

"Not to be that person, but I don't think I'd ever forgive you if you did that to me," Yuki suddenly remarks, snapping you out of your reverie. You shake your head to wake yourself up a bit. "Did what?" you ask, half afraid of what on earth she could be talking about. Yuki gestures toward the screen, and your gaze lands upon Edwina and Kate Sharma arguing. "I mean, just look at them," she points out. "How do you ever recover from someone you care about so much stealing the man that you love?"

You shift in your seat slightly at Yuki's observations. Is it really that bad to get romantically involved with someone your friend cares about? The answer, of course, is yes. It's been yes for as long as you can remember, and if you had been in this situation two years ago, there would be no doubt you'd agree with Yuki. But that was before, before Yuki and Choso started dating, and you'd had your heart shattered into pieces.

Before Choso had become Yuki's boyfriend, he had been yours. Okay, maybe not really, but he was most definitely fated to be. All your relatives had expected it, and he had even made jokes about it from time to time, commenting on how embarrassing it was that your parents let you do anything so long as it was with him. And while you'd been skeptical at the beginning (when push came to shove, childhood friends to lovers was so overdone), because you were stupid and because you never knew how to say no to his honey-brown eyes and annoyingly beautiful hair, you had fallen for him—and fallen hard.

It had been hell. How are you supposed to navigate a crush that was seemingly inevitable? You'd avoided him for days on end before finding the courage to speak to him like a normal human being. And just when you'd built up the courage to ask him out, Yuki had called you excitedly to tell you that your super-hot best friend had asked her on a date.

Hence, here you were, watching Bridgerton season two with one of the people you considered your closest friends and pondering the ethics of fucking her boyfriend.

"Well!" Yuki gets up and stretches as the end credits start to roll. "It's getting late, and we have early rehearsal tomorrow, so I guess I better head home. Don't forget to bring an extra water bottle for me tomorrow if you can!" She grins at you and gives you a small peck on the head to say goodbye. You grin weakly up at her from where you're sitting.

"Bye, Yuki!" you wave goodbye and lock the door behind her as she leaves before collapsing back onto the couch with a groan.

Fuck.

You're screwed. Heavily. You need to get over Choso ASAP. You sigh and feel around the table in front of the TV before finding your laptop, wiping your hands clean of food before opening it up and drafting an email:

dancedancerevolution@icloud.com

Dear Choso, Remember that one time someone new moved in next door to you? We were six and some of the kids in our class had been making fun of you for only being friends with girls, and so when your eyes had landed upon the beady eyed brunette child who'd arrived with his parent I can still recall how your eyes had begun to shine a bit brighter when they landed on him. you and him became fast friends and because you were boys you'd do everything together. I felt horrible. all I could think was that I was a failure because I was a girl. it took weeks of me acting out towards the two of you before you'd pointed out the obvious : I was jealous. Back then it was easier, we solved the problem of jealousy through communication and you promised to include me more. So why is it this time my jealousy doesn't seem to want no matter how much you and Yuki include me in everything? When did my feelings become so overwhelming? It sounds stupid but I truly never meant to fall in love with you, and if I'm being honest I regret doing so. But I'm getting better, I swear I am. If not for your sake then for mine. So I can stop feeling little pricks of pain every time I see the two of you together. with all my love, your best friend

You finish typing and close your laptop with a sigh before switching your focus to the TV. Sure, your love life may have gone to shit, but at least you could focus on somebody else's.

[impulseheaven]

snapes matchmaking

cw: fem reader , bullying , ravenclaw reader , uncannon characters

wc: 3.1k

synopsis: Draco always saw himself getting with a fellow Slytherin, probably a girl picked by his father. Though it came as a surprise to him whenever a Ravenclaw caught his attention.

You know who Draco Malfoy is, everyone does. He's the son of the infamous Lucius Malfoy, and a bully. Despite these things you’ve never been a target of his antics, if anything it seems he’s respects you in some way.

You're a pureblood, and your parents are both well respected auror’s which causes them to be a bit more wealthy than most families. Every year you get new books, keeping your old ones on your bookshelf that sit in your room at home. New robes every year along with new shoes that have a cleaning charm on them to prevent them from dirtying.

You kept yourself nicely groomed, getting a fresh trim to the ends of your hair every four months, always having polished nails, and hair is always done up in some way. Your friends like to tease you sometimes, saying how you're a perfectionist when it comes to anything.

Today was just another day, you woke up and did your morning skincare. Carefully applying everything evenly, then applying minimal makeup that enhances your favorite features. You put on your uniform and made sure your blue tie was perfectly straight, casting a quick charm on your skirt to get rid of any creases or wrinkles. Tying your hair back into a perfect half up half down style, you did a once over in the mirror before slipping on your shoes and grabbing your leather school bag.

You slid your wand into your robe pocket and walked down to the great hall, slipping into your usual spot next to your friend Cho Chang. She said a small ‘Hello’ before taking a bite of her toast, you smiled as you loaded some food onto your plate.

You both preferred to sit in silence in the morning, saving the gossiping for later in the day in the courtyard. Once it was time to go to class, and your first class of the day was positions. This class was a mix of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, which wasn’t a huge problem as the two houses were more peaceful together than other combinations.

You walked into the classroom and walked over to your desk, which you shared with a fellow Ravenclaw. As everyone piled into the room, Snape was standing at the front of the room seemingly waiting for everyone to arrive before speaking. “Today you will be brewing the Edurus Potion, I will be picking new partners.” At this a few groans were heard throughout the classroom, mostly from Slytherins. Snape’s eyes scanned throughout the classroom before he started listing new partners, said people moving around the room to get to their new spot.

“__ with Malfoy.” You sighed, although Malfoy had never bullied you in particular you still aren't fond of his attitude. You picked up your bag and walked over to the empty seat next to Malfoy. Despite his attitude you knew he excelled in potions, and you did too so this will be an easy grade for the both of you. As soon as everyone got into their groups, Snape wrote the page needed on the board and told everyone to get to work. You grabbed your potions book out of your bag and flipped to the page on the board, you noticed Draco stood next to you not getting his book.

You looked over at him, “do you not have your potions book?” He clicked his tongue, “left it in my dorm.” You only hummed and slid it to the space in between you two, “could you get the ingredients while i prepare the cauldron?” He hummed and read over the needed ingredients before going to gather them.

As time went on throughout the class Draco noticed how polite you were being with him despite his.. personality. So he slowly stopped being so rude and just hummed and followed your lead, not really up to being a jerk at the moment. Finally the potion turned the correct color and you raised your hand, only lowering it once Snape walked towards you two.

He looked at the both of you before looking down at the potion, “Twenty points to both Slytherin and Ravenclaw.” You couldn't help but smile as Snape rarely gave points to other houses besides Slytherin. “Thank you professor.” Snape hummed shortly before dramatically walking with his robe blowing behind him. Eventually class had ended and you said a polite ‘Bye’ to Malfoy before exiting the class.

As the day passed on Malfoy couldn’t forget about you, of course he saw small glimpses of you in the halls and in class. He knew of your blood line and your parents due to his father mentioning them one time but he couldn’t remember why.

Once all his classes were over he met up with his group of friends in the courtyard, they rarely sat outside but today was a nice day with a small gust of wind every now and then. They all sat near the tree, where that incident occurred with him becoming a ferret. As Pansy was gossiping with Enzo and Blaise he noticed you stroll in the courtyard alongside Cho Chang.

He never knew you two were friends but as he thought it over it made sense. You were quite similar but despite that his eyes stayed on you and watched you two sit down on the grass, your legs layed out crossed and you propped yourself up with your arms behind you.

He watched as you two conversed, but as you let out a laugh he noticed how loud it was. Usually this would irritate him but he felt how his stomach fluttered. He clicked his tongue and looked back over to his friends, not missing Pansy’s eyebrow raise signifying she caught him staring at the girl.

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the conversation with his friends, not noticing the new pair of eyes on him from across the courtyard.

As you and Cho caught up your eyes caught sight of the familiar platinum hair, taking a double look as you stared at him smiling with his friends. No doubt they were gossiping about something, you felt how your ears burned whenever he had a devilish smirk on his face as Blaise whispered something in his ear. Probably about some Gryffindor you thought.

You only looked away as you heard Cho let out a small gasp, turning back to her as she had her brows raised. “__ are you staring at Malfoy?” Her voice waved as she said his name, as if it was some curse. You only shrugged, “he’s pleasant to the eye.” Her shocked expression turned into a judgy look.

You sighed, knowing what was coming. “You cannot like him __ he's a bully, and it’s rumored he's a death eater .” As she said the last part he voice lowered significantly. You huffed, “Cho I appreciate the advice but I doubt i’ll even speak to him.” She hummed, “well whatever you do just remember who he is at least.” You nodded and the conversation shifted back to normal.

As the days passed on you noticed that Snape continuously paired you and Malfoy together although you didn't mind it anymore. He lost the snarky attitude and was more relaxed around you, mostly letting you take the lead in the potion making unless you needed help.

Though today you had to stay in your dorm, suddenly getting hit with a cold. You never minded getting a bit sick, using it as an excuse to take a rare break from school.

Whenever you came back the next day you were on the way to potions whenever someone fell into pace next to you. You looked over and couldn’t contain the surprised expression on your face whenever you see Malfoy next to you.

“Where were you yesterday?” His voice was smooth and firm as he spoke, looking straight ahead. You said a small ‘oh’ before readjusting the strap of your bag that was perched on your shoulder. “I had a small cold.” He clicked his tongue, “Why didn’t you get a healing potion from Madam Pomfret?” You shrugged your shoulders. “I used it as an excuse to rest, as I rarely take days off from school.

He huffed “Never miss again, I was stuck with Goyle that git made me do all the work.”

You smiled slightly, “isn't that your friend.” He rolled his eyes, “barely, he just follows me around.” As you both arrived to potions he held the door open for you, both of you walking into the class. Before you two could separate to your respective seats Snape called you both to his desk. You looked over at Malfoy with a raised brow and he shrugged slightly to show he had no idea either.

You both walked to the professor’s desk and stood in front of it, he didn’t look up from the paper he had in his hand as he spoke. “You two will be partners for the rest of the year.” Your eyes widened slightly and you glanced over at Malfoy before looking back to your professor. He waved you two off and the both of you awkwardly walked over to his desk.

“Do you know what that was about?” You turned to the blonde with a curious look, he only shook his head as he glared at Snape.

Draco knew what Snape was doing, he knew as soon as Snape met his eyes from across the room with a barely noticeable smirk. He huffed and knew to mention it to his father over winter break.

Thankfully today the work was just a two page front and back assignment, writing in detail about a potion of your choice that you've brewed in class this year. You turned to Malfoy, “what potion are you doing?” He lifted his head from looking down at his parchment, “Im doing amortentia.” You hummed, nodding “I think i’ll do that too.”

You two began to write in silence, the only sound coming from the shared table was your quill’s against parchment and the occasional tapping from you as you pondered your next sentence.

Eventually you finished your paper’s, quickly reading over it to make sure it was to your standards before standing up and handing the papers over to snape. As you walked back to your seat a foot stuck out into the walkway and before you could register it you tripped over. Letting out a gasp, you caught your on your palms as you fell so your face didn't smack against the cobble floor. As you stood you heard Snape rather loudly say “Detention to you Nott.”

You stood up, aware of how red your face had become due to embarrassment. You ran your hand’s over your uniform before quickly shuffling back over to your seat. As you sat back down Malfoy turned to you, “You alright?” You nodded, “‘m fine, just a bit embarrassed.” A sheepish smile spread on your face, Draco couldn't help as his face flushed slightly whenever you smiled.

Once the class ended you took your time packing up your bag, letting out a breath as you pushed open the door. Draco was leaning against the wall, pushing himself off of it once you exited the classroom. Once again he fell into a pace next to you, “Malfoy aren't you friends with Nott?” He clicked his tongue “Sadly.” You huffed out a small laugh, “do you know why he did that?” He only shook his head, “No but i’ll make sure he apologizes.” You looked over at him with a smile, “Thanks.” He smiled back at you, saying bye as he went down the hall to his next class.

Throughout the day your face flushed as you remembered Draco’s smile, something he rarely did towards anyone that wasn't his friends. Are you and Draco friends? You hummed to yourself and saved that question for later.

You decided you would do a bit of studying for your Transfiguration test you had next week, liking to be ahead of your studies. You collected the needed supplies from your dorm before venturing to the library, finding a secluded spot near a window. You set up all your things and took a seat, quickly getting sucked into your studies that you didn't notice the pair of footsteps coming up behind you.

Draco smirked as he noticed you weren't paying attention to your surroundings, sneaking up behind you. He lifted his hands and placed them on your shoulders “boo.” He pulled away as you yelped slightly, turning around in your chair with a glare. He only smirked at you as you glared at him, he moved to sit down in the chair across from you.

You huffed and placed your quill down, taking the opportunity to take a small break. “That was not funny Malfoy.” You shook your head as he only shrugged, “I found it funny.” You rolled your eyes, “of course you did.” He watched as you stretched your arms, taking notice that you’ve probably been here for at least an hour by now.

You picked up your quill again, looking back down at your parchment as you spoke “are we friends Malfoy?” He raised his brows at this, straightening his posture a bit. “Do you want to be friends?” You looked up at him, “If you want to, then yes.” As you spoke that ever so charming smile slid onto his face again, causing your stomach to flutter with butterflies.

From then on you called him Draco, and he addressed you by your first name rather than your last. It became a habit for the both of you to walk to and from potions, chatting about any new drama the two of you heard or about a new assignment in a class.

Of course Draco’s friends picked up on this, watching as he glanced at the Ravenclaw table during meals, how he watched you as you passed him in the halls, how he would constantly be talking to you potions no matter how many times Snape told him to be quiet.

Honestly they were a bit shocked at first, but once they all spoke about it they realized it made perfect sense. You both had well respected families, both of you were physically attractive people, your grades were as good as Draco’s and some were even better, and your personality perfectly balanced with his.

One weekend all of them were lounging in the common room, Draco sitting by himself in one of the armchairs, Pansy sitting on a pillow with her back against the couch Blaise and Theodore were on, with Enzo and Mattheo on the other couch. Pansy clicked her tongue, “Y'know Draco we would all love to meet that little Ravenclaw you always hang out with.” At this Draco tensed, he knew how his friends were and he wondered how you would react to their personalities.

Enzo hummed in agreement, “yea you're constantly staring at her during dinner, kinda creepy dude.” At this Draco rolled his eyes, “I do not, but I guess I can ask her.” He looked away as he thought it over, I mean if you can deal with him then why wouldn't you like his friends.

The next day it was a Saturday which meant no classes, so you were seated in the library reading a muggle book called ‘little women’. You never cared much about bloodstatus, although your parents were a bit more prejudiced. As you were reading you heard as Draco walked towards you, immediately knowing it was him from the way it sounded. You lifted your head as soon as he rounded the bookshelf corner, you smiled at him and made room for him on the small bay window seat. He slid into the seat next to you, not caring as your legs brushed against one another.

“Hi Draco” you closed your book but made sure to remember the page number. He offered you the soft smile that seemingly was only reserved for you. “Hi __, I have a question for you.” You hummed at this, turning your full attention to him. You noticed he was a bit hesitant so you smiled as a way to tell him to continue, “yknow my friends right?” At this you nodded, remembering how Nott tripped you in class a couple of weeks ago.

He glanced away for a moment before looking back at you, “well they’ve noticed we’re friends, and well they are nosy. They want to meet you, but if you don't want to, I completely understand.” He was silently referring to the incident with Theodore, knowing why you would be hesitant. He noticed how you drifted off into thought before nodding, “where would it be?” He couldn’t help but smile, “In our common room, tomorrow.” You smiled and nodded.

The next day you met up with Draco in the dungeons right outside the portrait to enter the Slytherin common room. He pushed off the wall once you neared, “if you want to leave just let me know alright?” You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. If Draco was honest was a bit nervous, over the past few weeks he’s grown to like you. A bit more than he realized, and he knew that if you couldn't handle his friends he would have to forget such feelings.

He said the password as the portrait opened, you trailed behind him into the common room. Immediately it was evidently different from the Ravenclaw one, but it was nice nonetheless. You spotted Draco’s group that was sprawled around couches near the fire as you two walked over to the group.

You and him sat down on the unoccupied couch, and you looked around noticing literally all of them were staring at you. Immediately you could tell it would be hard to win over Nott, and Riddle but that didn't bother you. You turned to Pansy who was in the armchair near the couch you were, she had a curious look in her eye as she looked at you. You offered her a smile, “what lipstick do you use? It’s gorgeous.” You were being completely honest, you loved the dark red lipstick she was wearing. At this she immediately smiled as she told you the name and brand, complimenting your hair.

Once Blaise saw Pansy talking to you he butted in and joined in, along with Enzo. Draco smiled to himself, immediately recognizing that you and Pansy would get along quickly. He was nervous about her, knowing her tendency to be a bit too blunt. Theodore snickered to himself as he looked at Draco, which caught his attention. “What?” Theodore only shook his head as he smirked, “you're whipped.”

nav.

[lemotmo]

I’m curious to see the response Ryan gives for his personal thoughts on what’s going on between Buck and Eddie.

But at the same time I’m not excited for the melt down it’ll probably cause since he still can’t give anything away so people are gonna end up dooming 💀😂

Listen, at this point I've given up on asking people to use their common sense. We've been saying this over and over again, but for some reason there are always people that will see the worst in these interviews and who spiral and doompost afterwards.

What do they possibly expect Ryan to say? He can't just come out and say:

"Hey everyone! Guess what?! Eddie is gay!!! And he desperately wants to bone Buck!!!! WHAT ABOUT THAT BUCK AND EDDIE THING HUH?!!!! YOLO!!! LOL!!!"

So yes, he'll skirt around the topic and he'll say some deep and meaningful things about the Buddie friendship and how important it is for Eddie. I expect him to tease a little and give some vague answers, but that's really the only thing he can say. 🤷‍♀️

And like clockwork, people over on Twitter will start yelling that he is baiting them. Pffff, seriously-- if it wasn't for some good sources, I would have deleted Twitter ages ago.

The influx of some newer fans (both BT and Buddie) when Buck came out as bi has made the 911 fandom a worse place to be in my opinion. Some of these people are ruthless. The way they talk to professional journalists is appalling and downright rude. I always have so much second-hand embarrassment when I read some of their comments.

((I'd like to make a note here that I'm not talking about ALL new people in fandom, just some of them and most are over on Twitter. I've met a lot of lovely new people here on Tumblr who know how to behave normally and who are genuinly excited to join this fandom. Welcome to all of you!!! Seriously!!! It's nice to have some new voices and fresh input.))

As the second anon said, some of them were almost threatening Jeff Conway, telling him that the fandom would be upset with him if the interview didn't give them what they wanted. I mean... WTF?! This guy interviewed an actor of a TV-show. He is only going to write about what Ryan said. This isn't life and death here! It's just a silly little TV-show interview!

This isn't even about fandom etiquette anymore. It goes beyond that! This is about human decency. Just because you are online and anonymous, doesn't mean that you get to act like a total *sshole towards an entertainment journalist or towards actors and other fans for that matter. I have seen some vile Ryan hatred on Buddie-Twitter. Safe to say I blocked all of them.

I truly don't get it. How were these people raised? Didn't their parents or guardians ever talk to them about kindness and decency? Did some of them grow up with social media without any kind of supervision and somehow it desensitized them to normal human behaviour and social cues? What went wrong?!

I don't know you guys. Maybe I sound old to some of you.🤷‍♀️ But I've been in fandom spaces for a very long time now, so I know what I'm talking about.

Whenever I speak up about something like this, I get messages in my inbox calling me a 'boomer'. I didn't know that asking for simple human decency and politeness made someone a 'boomer', but if that is the case, I'll gladly take that title. Because some of these fans' behaviour on Twitter is seriously getting out of hand.

So really, the message here is: Stay away from stan-Twitter if you can, but if you like it there (no judgement 😋 You do you!) do make sure to block wisely, even within the Buddie fandom if necessary. Don't share, reply or make screenshots, because none of us should condone or share these people's shitty behaviour.

[angelsdean]

sometimes it feels like people (not you) infantilize mary the same way they infantilize jack. like she's almost 30 she's not 18 (not saying she's equal in maturity to her sons). she was an adult for a decade and chose to be a mom and then got upset because her adult children were adults and told them they weren't enough to overcome her grief (she has the right to be upset to be clear, i just feel like her wording was cruel in a way she might've not realized) and they have a right to be hurt that she isn't even trying to move on (from their perspective). (im 25 so maybe im biased tbh)

like imagine if your mom came back and then said "hey you aren't my sons. not the ones i want anyway. i can't be around you." like that's kind of cruel even if it's born out of deep hurt and not what she intended to say.

yup i touched on some of the age stuff in the ask i just answered, but yea this.

like i've said it a million times how much i understand her perspective and sympathize with her. i even wrote a little ficlet from her POV exploring her feelings of grief. i feel a lot for her in this situation. but i can feel bad for her and ALSO feel bad for sam and dean too. like there is no limit on who gets my sympathy / empathy. feeling for one of them doesn't make the others the bad or wrong ones. they can all be hurt in different ways and i can feel bad for all of them.

like you said, her words come off unintentionally (!) as cruel. dean later laments that this is hard for them too, that she's been gone their whole lives. now she's HERE. of course they're going to want her around. of course they're going to want some kind of relationship with her. of course the inner child in both of them (but i think dean especially bc he remembers her) is crying out for a shred of parental affection.

and it's hard, because mary is riddled with her own grief. and they give her time and space and she still doesn't seem to be working thru anything, instead she throws herself into hunting to cope. it's not until 12x22, when dean has to BEG her to look at him, his adult self, and really see him that she seems to finally overcome that grief.

but yea, mary hurts them with her actions. she doesn't mean to, and her situation is complicated and i'm sympathetic to her, but she hurts them nonetheless. and her age shouldn't be an "excuse" or something to throw around like a trump card to say "ok well it doesn't matter that she hurt them because she's younger than them now and they shouldn't be asking anything of her." she was their mom at 28. she was their mom at 24. she is always going to be their mom, and they have always seen this young woman (through pictures, memories, and time travel) AS their mother. they're not wrong for seeing her and going, "hey mom" and wanting a relationship with her.

also yea as someone roughly her age (29) i am like, if i had been dead my kids' whole lives and came back i'd want to know them? and spend time with them? even if it was hard? i'd be like, okay tell me everything. i'd also, probably, indeed be babying them bc the last time i was alive they were my babies. like "you still like pb&j with the crusts off? and uhh sam....you like...milk?" lmao

[rafaelcb]

"Yes," he smiled, nodding his head, "just not with my own two hands." That would have been a feat. Where Rafael knew plenty about houses in terms of selling them, he couldn't say that he knew all that much about getting them built, what went into making that happen. Thankfully, for him, he knew plenty of people who understood the process, though. "I hired a local to lead up a construction crew and it all came together pretty well." Now it was a sort of castle on the hill, the dream home that he had spent so many hours going over plans for, picking out this and that, discussing options. His smile softened when she asked if he was close to his parents still, nodding his head. "Very much so. My father serves on the board of the company, my mother -- well, you'll see, but she stops in a lot with food." That was Isabella, though. When she wasn't baking or cooking for her son, she was volunteering at the hospital, or attending book clubs. He could only hope to be half as active in his life when he got to be his parents' age.

"So it's not something that you're used to," he nodded with understanding. Rafael got it -- he did. When people lived in different areas of the world, they were going to be used to different things. Sometimes that meant that they craved a little bit of spice and flavor, and sometimes it meant that they were going to sweat their way through eating something that wasn't bland. Different strokes, he knew. "I'll… try my best not to," he grinned, taking a bite of his food and letting it rest on his tongue thoughtfully, before chewing it down and asking, "so when you moved out and you were able to try all of those foods that you didn't have before, were you nervous? Or excited, and wanted a little bit of everything at every moment that you could have it?"

And then, the deep question. One that he mulled over for a moment, reaching for his glass to take a sip of wine moving it around in his mouth thoughtfully. "I needed to get out of New York. That wasn't negotiable, I lost my job, I had just ended a relationship," which was a very glossed over way of saying that his wife had filed for divorce and he had been fired from a prestigious firm, but they would cover that when the time was right, he knew. "Moving to Maine on a whim based on a job offer was a big undertaking, and I definitely spent a while wondering if I had made a mistake. I thought New York was cold, this was cold. The work was… decent. Steady. Not nearly as high profile or dramatic as the cases that I had taken on in New York, so that was a change, but eventually I started to find my people. I made friends with a local blueberry farm -- he's since passed, but I'm still friends with his family -- and he was my first real client. Then he helped me get more clients based on word of mouth. And I started to realize that there were big hearts in small towns, and despite my," he raised his brows a bit, "high tastes and rough exterior, I think just getting to know the people helped to soften me. If that makes sense."

"So you did build it? In a round about way?" Aurora had been joking, but the way Rafael spoke about building something so beautiful out of nothing; because he could, because he wanted to; caught her off guard. "That's such an amazing thing to do, I bet they're so grateful. You guys are close, I take it?" To say she was in awe by that piece of information was an understatement. Aurora was by no means from a modest background; her parents owned a lake house in north Sweden and she grew up in Lapland - a childhood woven by winter dreams. But, she hadn't necessarily reached the stage where she surpassed her parents success either, and she knew they wanted her to. She wanted to. She just wasn't sure how yet. But when she did, if she did, she'd want to give back too. "Oh, we're so polar opposites!" she said. "I do like spice, don't get me wrong but we're Swedish - well German and Swedish - but I was raised in Sweden, so bland and dull runs through my blood. Actually, a little grotesque to some." Sipping her wine, she smiled. "You know, I never had anything like curries or things specifically from other cultures until I moved out at sixteen." She shook her head. "So where you had spice, my life was pea soup, pickled herring, a lot of bread," she laughed lightly, "Don't be too jealous."

Aurora's eyes wandered, this time around his kitchen. She'd already noted the bar they were sat at, it didn't particularly bother her - if anything, it felt on brand. A table with many chairs for someone who, no matter how many friends they had, was solo? It didn't make sense. She didn't have one either; most of her dinners were eaten in the living room, over her laptop. Also pretty on brand. "–How did you know you'd done the right thing?" she asked, her hands landing back on him again. She wasn't sure if she'd meant to vocalise the question but it was out now, dancing between them as it waited for her to add context. "Living here, I mean. When did it start finally start falling into place?"

Because God knows Aurora couldn't wait for it to be her turn.

[navree]

people talk about pumped up kicks as the premiere "school shooting song that is really catchy" but they're fools because i don't like mondays by the boomtown rats is right there and has been for nearly fifty years.

[peppermintbutch]

Anton compilation

[carbonateddelusion]

pretty people <3<3<3 beautiful bois and gorgeous gorls <3<3<3