#and she does ‘does your job have resources to help you deal with that someone to talk to?’

[theirony-of-choking-on-this-dick]

so i had to call my doctor

so i can get a note

so i can submit it my job

so i can use my sick time

so i can take a couple mental health days

[american-dream-novel]

REVIEW: The Ex-Girlfriend of My Ex-Girlfriend Is My Girlfriend by Maddy Court

Whenever I delve into a new project, I make serious considerations about what research is necessary for it. What areas do I lack knowledge in? What is the project focused on, and can I answer to those themes intelligently? The next step is to start finding books I feel might answer those questions and get reading.

When it comes to American Dream, I knew I would have to delve into gender and sexuality. In particular, lesbian identities and experiences, especially those that dyke/butches, etc. experience. I identify as bisexual, but there is something within the dyke/butch/masc labels that, while I do not feel comfortable taking up as my own, appeal to me and my identity.

Because of this and the centrality of the characters' lesbianism — I knew I had to read up. I checked out The Ex-Girlfriend of My Ex-Girlfriend Is My Girlfriend without knowing it was actually dating advice for queer folk. Nevertheless, it proved to be informative!

I read all of Maddy Court's (and friends) advice in one sitting. I'm currently going through a weird phase in my own romantic life — breaking up with my partner of 3 years, exploring polyamory & generally what I want out of relationships, discovering I may not be as sex-apathetic as I’d thought — so on a personal level, Court's book was extremely helpful. If you're a queer person, the book covers everything from new love, getting over someone, finding your place in the community, coming out, etc. There's a little something for everyone. It was comforting, even though I've been out for 5ish years, to read something written for you in mind.

What shocked me the most about reading TEGOMEGIMG (lol) is that I forgot straight people get all these resources about love, relationships, etc. and we don't have that same wealth of resources, which is especially frustrating as our love inherently exist outside of what our society deems "normal" or "acceptable" or the "status quo." This book did a phenomenal job of reminding me that I may be queer, but I'm human, too. In that way, I cannot recommend this book enough!

TAKEAWAYS & IMPORTANT INFORMATION:

On a I'm-researching-for-a-book level, I would not say that this does the job except in a very particular way. This isn't a problem! I'm the dumbass who didn't read the description before checking it out lol. For research purposes, though, these are the things I found most informative:

Transmisogyny is alive and well in the queer community! As a trans masc individual, I'm keenly aware that the experiences of trans femmes/trans women are different from my own, and given Judi is a trans woman (a particularly masc-presenting one at that), the book opened my eyes to some considerations I should have when writing her, what her experiences might be realistically, etc. Central to her character is her feelings of alienation and loneliness. What role would her experiences in queer, sapphic communities have in those feelings? I want things to be nuanced of course, and the question from Ex-Girlfriend that deals specifically with these experiences and frustrations (beautifully answered to by Mey Rude) points to some of those considerations in representation.

The difficulties in finding your queer community, even when you move to a new place or think you've found some great people. Each of the main characters face some level of alienation, both self-imposed but also as a result of their experiences. Eddie really struggles with finding his place, especially in rural Michigan, and I found Maddy's perspective as a midwestern queer illuminating — how her dating life has adapted to the fact that her pool of queer friends and acquaintances isn't terribly large, so she's accepted that LDRs are going to be common in her life.

Compulsive heterosexuality. While I wouldn't call it a central part of Birdie, I do want to explore that part of her. When the story starts, she's with a man — her best friend of 6-8 years, someone she grew to love over time and found attractive. She thinks of him as the one-off guy, even though she's had other partners in the past that were men. Overall, the q's regarding comp het and internalized homophobia were illuminating in this regard, especially as I struggle with both myself.

FINAL REVIEW:

9/10, but not very useful for the purposes of researching queer identities and representation. I would recommend the book to literally anyone — it's such a short read, and you'll walk away with a leveler-head. You'll feel like you're filled up with all this good advice, all this love for yourself, your friends, for the people you will meet. The book soothed a lot of my anxieties, some I hadn't even been able to recognize. For what it is, Maddy Court's The Ex-Girlfriend of My Ex-Girlfriend Is My Girlfriend does exactly what it set out to do. In that way, there's not much criticism to give.

[secondhandbagofholding]

One of my greatest anxieties about being a would-be author is the state of the world of publishing. To be fair my knowledge of it is limited. I don't think it's a world you know much about unless you have already traveled to it by being published, if you are a native there as an editor or publisher, or if you are on the outside looking at brochures for the place hoping to one day board whatever train it is that can take you there so your ideas and manuscripts can become published works. The workings of the publishing industry aren't common knowledge to most people, most probably because why would it need to be? Authors author the books. Publishers publish the books. Readers read the books. Why should the reader need to know what's going on in the other parts of the process? Their part is simple; go to the library or the bookstore, acquire the book, and read it.

But as someone who is part of that last category, the reader, trying to enter into the first category, the author, the blind spot I have for how the second category does its job causes me a great deal of stress. And, to top it all off, reports are fairly constant now that the world of publishing is, like mostly every other industry, overrun now with the idea of cheap and forgettable products. Ursula K LeGuin, on her blog back in the 2010's once talked about publishing and why she wouldn't let certain parts of the industry get their hands on her books, or her, if she could help it. She equated, as many people I have read do, the way books are published at breakneck speed, with little substance and even less polish to how fast food and convenience food appeals to the masses. It's quick. It's cheap. It's forgettable. It might nourish you, but it's certainly not everything you need to survive. I might add, that cases where that is the only source of nourishment available are also deplorable, especially in a society where our resources are almost limitless if we weren't so focused on profit and growth only. Fast food is great sometimes, and can fill gaps when other more wholesome nourishment is lacking or unavailable, but eventually everyone needs something more. Eventually everyone has to have something more filling and healthful. For food, that can be a home-cooked meal or even simply a more balanced meal that provides more nutrients. Something that feeds your body, and in some cases, can expand your horizons. For books, its something that feeds your soul, that challenges you, and equally, something that expands your horizons. Unfortunately, publishing is often easier for "fast food" literature. It sells well, it sells a lot, and it doesn't take a lot of time and resources to publish. And for a lot of people, that's the primary source of literature they consume.

But what about the people who don't want to write "fast food" literature? What about the people who don't want to read "fast food" literature? What happens when the only source left is the fast and palatable? What happens when someone comes along with something new and exciting, but it's not as marketable so it simply fizzles to nothing. It loses the chance to expand horizons. It loses the chance to be the main course of someone's banquet of words, edged out by the fast food that's spoiled the reader's appetite.

The rise and risk of AI are a symptom of this problem. Low cost, low quality, fast turnover, fast production. Growth, growth, growth, growth, growth. And authors suffer because of it, but I think, probably more importantly, readers do as well. With nothing to expand our horizons and nourish our souls, our horizons and our souls atrophy. All because it makes publishers and shareholders money. The consumer, the reader, the eater, the artist, the author be damned.

Guillermo Del Toro I think put it well in a recent interview in London, speaking about generative AI:

“A.I. has demonstrated that it can do semi-compelling screensavers... The value of art is not how much it costs and how little effort it requires, it’s how much would you risk to be in its presence? How much would people pay for those screensavers? Are they gonna make them cry because they lost a son? A mother? Because they misspent their youth? Fuck no.”

Call me pompous, or prideful, or full of myself. Call me whatever you want, but I want to make art that requires risk. I want to make art that makes you challenge yourself and question yourself. I want to make art that has something to say and that makes you feel the entire spectrum of human emotion.

But I worry that I will lose that chance, unable to compete, as many chefs, painters, digital artists, and other types of creators around the world are unable to compete, by the rampant unchecked trend toward cheap, easy to consume, easy to produce junk.

[bugflies00]

RIGHT so the pirate au

well it's nothing very original don't get your hopes up or anything BUT. basically it's mainly lmancrew (with a crimeboys focus) and tntduo centered and it's set in like a medieval-esque fictional setting like basically six of crows minus the magic. like i literally typed six of crows into pinterest to get good images those are the vibes

wilbur's captain of this ship called the l'manberg (ok no but i hesitated between naming the ship or their og town lmanburg but i ended up naming the ship that because i just think it's such a good ship name like . she/her in a boat way. does this make sense) and the crew is niki, jack, eret, fundy and tubbo (well obviously theres more people cause how would a ship Function but the rest of those are Unnamed background characters).

wilbur's also a pretty high ranked official like idk general or captain of the guard idk how the military works i would have to figure that out, but basically he's kinda famous and so's his ship. they aren't participating in a war it's more of like an explorer position because wilbur's known for being a brilliant cartographer and so the previous king just kinda appointed him to this new position to let him fuck off & do his own thing mapping the whole world with his crew. the issue is the old king died with no heir and replaced by his nephew (dream) who's much more controlling and power-hungry than he was and who doesn't want to waste money & resources on some bs like maps. this will create Conflict (im so good at narration guys. Help)

tommy's like a homeless orphan (as he alwyas is) and really needs a job and money and all that and he hears the l'manburg isn't at sea for once and wilbur & his crew are taking a rest at the capital for a couple days before sailing back off again. naturally he sneaks in, lives in the storage room for like a week or two, surviving off scraps of food . then tubbo stumbles across him and almost reports him, but tommy convinces him not to and so tubbo helps him for a couple days. then someone else finds him, and he's brought to the captain and they all threaten to throw the stowaway overboard (they wouldn't actually they're all kinda softies) and tommy's like pissing himself from how scared he is especially cause wilbur's like . this really famous general who's had books and songs written about him and shit (he doesn't know yet hes just an annoying pretentious prick (/lovingly)) so he's like Ohmygod im dead and then wilbur's like . "Can you cook" "erm no" "can you clean" "yeah ig" "Can you fight even somewhat decently" "yeah bitch me and my knives are the best they call me th-" "Ok you're hired" AND THUS tommy joins the crew

and so they keep on sailing with their mission yadda yadda and WHAM they encounter the most notorious pirate crew of the continent, named, you guessed it, las nevadas. and tommy's heard a lot of proper horror stories about them and he's terrified but the crew have fought them off a bunch of times before so they're mainly annoyed because they're gonna have to deal with the frankly disgustingly homoerotic rivalry that their captain and the pirate captain have been passionately engaging in for several years now. THATS RIGHT TNTDUO BABY oh they are so pathetic and so gay it's actually embarrassing they'll have like sword duels . wilbur's the uptight, bitchy, and somewhat pretentious general with perfectly styled hair and ornate coat always huffing and puffing and waxing poetry meanwhile quackity's the fuckin bad boy stereotype with like a half unbuttoned poet or blackshirt (slut) (wilbur cannot stop staring its embarrassing) and he's always hanging off ropes and shit and doing sick acrobatics and taunting wilbur GOD they're so. and yeah they have sword duels where all they do is "distract the opponent" in order to "efficiently win the battle" which is code for "practically make out while hurling insults at each other"

also crimeboys is like "in awe of the legendary general" "who is this child on my boat" >>> "oh my god the general's a prick" "oh my god the child's a demon" >>> "maybe he's not that bad but i would rather die and curse his entire family line than admit that" >>> "that is my brother i would die for him and if you lay a hand upon him you won't have hands anymore" (the funny thing is they both end up with that same level of protectiveness and making the same threats despite wilbur being a like Adult and high ranked official with power and influence and decades of training of elaborate swordsmanship behind him . and tommy is a stowaway fifteen year old orphan with three knives and teeth and a whole lot of anger . but they're both like "no i must protect and die for the other" im sorry i just love them ok theyre so stupid) i just LOVE crimeboys having to go through begrudging bonding instead of instantly being ride or die brothers GIVE ME TO MORE ENEMIES TO FRIENDS TO BROTHERS anyway

also we also get emerald duo in the form of them being co-captains (please pretend that is a thing i know Nothing about anything ever) of this other ship and they're like independent merchants or whatever idk i have not figured out that whole bit yet MY POINT IS they're not affiliated with anyone they just sorta do their own thing and only help people if they want to or are indebted . they help out wilbur sometimes cause he's a dumbass

speaking of wilbur like i said he's had books and songs written about him (his age is kind of a grey zone like on one hand he's pretty young for a general but he's also had time to become this like famous and mysterious figure so can't be Too young . so i think probably like 27-29? smth like that) and one of them was a legend about how he fell in love with a mermaid . yes she had red hair and teal scales and her name was sally BUT SHE'S STILL AN OCEAN MERMAID I KNOW SALMONS LIVE IN RIVERS anyway . also for little tntduo crumbs he's called quackity a siren multiple times (in his mind he's insulting him like "ooh you manipulate people" and everyone around him is like "that is the Gayest thing you could possibly have said") and quackity's like "didnt you date a mermaid" "yeah but sirens are like evil mermaids" "so you want to date me" and then wilbur stabs him

ALSO more about wilbur's character development (this is a bit spoilerish but also it's not like im ever writing this full fic so you're not exactly risking much but just be warned) he starts out like i said as this really uptight military official who started when he was really young and trained really hard and flew through the ranks really fast because he worked his ass off . And so he's Very protective of his rank & title & prestige not so much because he's snobbish but because he worked so hard for it but so it often comes across as him being this like pretentious fuck (well he's also pretentious but thats just wilbur) . also he originally dreamed of being a cartographer and he spent his whole childhood drawing up maps but then he realised he couldn't make a living out of that so he decided to work hard enough to be at the top and then do what he wanted. and so he wears like his tricorn hat with a feather and his ornate coat and neatly tucked in shirt and everything cause for him it's like Proof that he Did it yknow . but then as time goes by, especially in the presence of quackity (who's very antihero-esque and so does not give a shit about ranks or whatever he's a pirate he does his own thing) and also a bit tommy (who was literally dressed in rags until they clothed and fed him but still behaves like a street rat on the most famous ship of the country) he slowly loosens up and he ends up ditching the coat and the hat and instead wears more stuff like loose poet shirts (open because he's a slut) . and so yeah character development through clothing and whatnot

ok so YEAH those are the tidbits that were plaguing my mind the most but there's definitely a whole lot more in my head like ive got a pinterest board and shit

[juniperberries-canisroot]

For the ask game: Vigilant and Nightingale. I was particularly interested in hearing about Chantilly Leice and Melka, but feel free to switch around to other characters if you prefer!

WHOOO YEAH I get to talk about Melka! I like their story cause it's somethin different than what I normally write. Vigilant will be under the cut.

Also ignore why the pics are blue, it was to help me find it easier in the massive sea that is my phone album roll. The letter was to also help me and the reader see each different letter is a different conversation.

Nightingale-If the player wasn't the DB, what would they be doing?

CL would be doing what she's trying to do now, put the DragonBorn legacy behind her, focus on her family (hubby, 3 adopted kids and her 3 dogs), keeping them safe and go about her typical business like DBH contracts, being the Listener, Nightingale and Guild Master, building connections for the Theives Guild and occasional jobs for the Companions and EETC. She does it all. She is also the Arch-Mage so she does the rare jobs for them like killing the anomalies or dealing with some rogue wacko wizard (based on cut content I found on UESP). She also does the occasional odd mercanary job for the Bard's College (I expanded upon it on her story and added a new NPC/someone who had a past with her). She takes up odd jobs as well as our player does in game. Currently her goal is to explore every Nordic ruin, every dank dungeon on both Skyrim and Solstheim. She dislikes the Dwemee ruins due to how loud they are (her Lycan senses amplify sounds).

Melka would be doing what they were before they found out they were the DragonBorn, mostly work for the Companions and helping Kodlak find a cure for the Beast Blood. Melka's story is that they aren't from Skyrim, they're from some other unnamed land where humans had to live underground cause above ground had too many dangerous monsters, along with dwindling resources. They eventually leave that place and travel around until finding Skyrim. They love the cold weather and eventually found themself in the company of the Companions. Most of the other ingame guilds aren't their jam nor do they have any interest in them. When Melka finds out some of the Circle are werewolves, they refuse the Blood. In Melka's land, 'transformation magic' is an evil corruptive magic that permanently turns the human it 'infected' into a monster after some time. It's given by a being of higher power (read, NOT a god, not Aedra or even Daedra), and at first it seems good. It gives the human strength, power, all the things they need to survive. But beings of higher power have no interest in bettering humans. The 'boon' uses the humans body as a host, and eventually the 'monster that was always inside claws its way out'. At that point the human isn't human anymore, it's a monster and must be killed like one. Skyrim challenges alot of Melka's previous opinions and views on various subjects, one being transformation magic, aka the Beast Blood. When Kodlak confides in Melka that he along with Vilkas and Farkas want a cure, somethin impossible where Melka is from, they offer their help in any way they can.

Vigilant-Do your characters follow any religion, deity, do any worship?

CL is very clear in that she does not worship any being, no Aedra, Daedric Princes, beings of higher power like Sithis, ect... However that doesn't change her situation. She is still the Listener, killing souls for Sithis, she's still a werewolf that chooses to keep the blood even after knowing there's a cure, she's still done favours and has various boons from Aedra and Daedric Princes like Mara, Dibella, Kyne, Sheogorath, Sanguine, Meridia and Hermaeus Mora. She's aware doing acts for them is still doing what they want, but she does it 'out of necessity'.

She will place no offerings at alters or shrines, she will not spread the word or teachings of someone, will not bear their symbol, doesn't invoke the name of someone for power, follows no religion, does no prayers. She also doesn't like Akatosh cause she hates being the DragonBorn, so she has a bone to pick with him.

Melka is from a land where there are no gods. Gods are simply faceless beings from a child's bedtime story, they were never real and still aren't. Even coming to Skyrim Melka still doesn't believe gods are real, and, you can't really blame them. Their world was ravaged by monsters, yet these gods of Skyrim have done things to help their followers? Where were the gods in Melka's land? What have the humans done to never be allowed help from these 'so called gods' of Skyrim, or Tamriel, or anywhere? Why did no gods look upon these humans, clearly struggling to survive, their population becoming increasingly low, near extinction levels and never offer them help or made themself known? So Melka is a bit spiteful against gods. For a while they don't believe in Daedric Princes either. But here's the thing about Daedric Princes, they actively make themself known to mortals. They wander among them in disguise, they speak to their followers, they show them their domain and give them power. Sure you could argue some Aedra do the same things, but they certainly don't do it on the same level as Daedric Princes.

Even when told about the Beast Blood, Melka thinks Hircine is nothing more than a being of higher power giving mortals transformation magic and corrupting them. Fighting feral savages doesn't help, it further proves to them the Beast Blood is a curse and that everyone who has it, Kodlak, Farkas and Vilkas included will all fall victim to it. One day they won't be able to turn back, they will be a monster forever.

[phatburd]

ask game: N, T, W

Some of my opinions are probably going to wildly offend people but let’s go!

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice)

Only three things? Hmm. K. So, for The Old Guard:

First thing - I want more morally grey stories, or Dubious Morality as AO3 tags it, or stories where the characters have to make choices with no good, 100% happy outcomes for anybody. Where helping someone will guarantee that some other innocent will get hurt and suffer. I want to see Nile, et al, make hard choices.

Second thing (of which I am guilty so far) is I’d like to see more solo-Andy in the immediate years after she became immortal and the millennia she spent alone before she met any of the others. There’s a lot of stories to mine there, and one of the reasons why I haven’t touched it yet is because there’s so much to mine there. It’s intimidating. I want to do it anyway. I’m currently focused on the Napoleonic Era for Booker, but I’m not above poking at the Bronze Age Collapse at another time.

Thirdly, I want more fics that explore the future of the immortal team. The past is a great resource, and that's fun to tease out and see how the immortals can fit into historical events. But the future has a lot of potential too. How do the immortals deal with a world where facial recognition technology is everywhere? How does one disappear where every movement is tracked in some way or other?

(I work with some huge information databases in my real world job – the details of which I can’t talk about – and let’s just say I know what I’m talking about.)

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

Booker is not inherently selfish. Full stop.

Let me explain. In the early 2000s I was going through a really bad mental health patch. I kinda fell apart professionally and personally in the aftermath of Bush vs. Gore and pretty much hated everyone and everything.

I don’t know how many people here are old enough to remember the discussions around “enhanced interrogations.” In my really bad psychological state, I read a book that discussed the use of torture through the ages and its ineffectiveness as a tool to gather intelligence. This is because everyone has a breaking point, where they will do anything, say anything, agree to anything, just to escape the pain.

This is the point where I realized the same thing applied to depression and suicidal ideation. At some point, the pain of living becomes so goddamn intense, a person develops tunnel vision and will do anything to stop their own pain. Depression is torture without any visible mechanism. In that case, is it selfish to end your own pain?

This is where shitheads will say, “But what about all other people in your life? You’re selfish because you’ll hurt them!” No, they don’t fucking get it. That’s counterproductive because a person that far down in the hole will think, “Well, maybe they’ll be better off without me then.” The pain is so intense, you're not thinking of others because you can’t. You just want it to end by any means necessary.

What does this have to do with Booker? Yeah, this is the mental state I imagine Booker to have been in for longer than most people have been alive. He wants it to end and he will do whatever it takes, including agreeing to things he probably wouldn’t have if he wasn’t in that mental state.

Is wanting to end your own pain weak or selfish? I’d say no. Anyone who says yes hasn't been there, and I hope they never reach that breaking point to understand what it feels like.

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

I screeched about this when this last season of Star Trek Picard aired. Actually, I screeched about multiple tropes in Star Trek Picard that I fucking loathed. I’m going to revisit the one that pissed me off most, and that was what happened to Captain Liam Shaw.

Technically, what happened to Shaw wasn’t a deathbed conversion, since he apparently made up his mind before he was even officially introduced that he actually liked Seven. But S3E09 gave all the appearances of a deathbed conversion and I flipped the fuck out.

I do not like it when a character has a change of heart right before they die. Dying doesn’t teach a character anything. They can’t be a better person and grow because they’re dead. They can’t have their past conceptions challenged by new experiences because they’re dead.

A deathbed conversion is nice for drama, but it’s also the easy way out, another form of deus ex machina if you will, and I hate it wherever I see it.

Okay, I think that’s enough. I haven’t had any caffeine yet, what a way to crawl out of bed. I did this to myself though. Lol.

[looney-mooney-studio]

Vanessa and Candace as God Teired Homestuck Trolls for the Summerstuck AU! Classpect Analysis below the cut!

Vanessa is a Sylph of Life. Sylphs are healers, but don’t let that fool you- they are more than willing to cause harm if necessary. Sylphs are strong, stable, and willing to do whatever it takes to help others. Sometimes that means providing first aid, but sometimes that means executing a dangerous enemy - the Sylph is very flexible in what help they can provide. Sylphs also tend to be the most mature of their friend groups.

Similarly, Life players are capable of healing, but their aspect is usually born of privilege. Life tends to cut their players a lot of slack from the offset, make things easier for their players, but this isn’t always a good thing. The higher you are, the farther there is to fall, and the harder it is to get back up. Jane fell hard in every timeline she had, and it was only in the timeline where she shunned her privilege and her family name of “Crocker” to start a family with the Egberts that she found real peace.

Vanessa is a bit more cautious and humble than your average Life player. She has her dad right there in front of her to show her what happens to those who fall, and as much as she loves her dad she knows to avoid his failings. And, in the end, it is Vanessa’s insight that gives Doof the ability to leave his past behind and start living in the moment - though it isn’t long before he falls back into old habits and starts acting in service to his future instead. And even then, Vanessa works to heal him again - it is Vanessa that encourages Doofenshmirtz to see things from Perry’s perspective and try to get back in touch with him after their falling out, after all.

Meanwhile, Candace is a Maid of Void. Maids are burdened by their aspect, and are filled with so much of their aspect that they become an overflowing resource. Their job is to take that insanely generous resource of their own aspect from within themselves and distribute it to others. But it’s hard to have so much of one thing, and it’s exhausting to give it to others, especially when you have so much of it that you can’t really stop it from spilling out into everyone else. Usually maids desperately want the opposite aspect, to find a balance they will never find.

Void is the aspect of obsession, addiction, a struggle not against any outside force but against yourself. They often find things disappearing around them, and are determined to have things they cannot fill. Equius wants desperately to be an archer, but breaks every bow he holds. Roxy wants desperately to be a mother and a daughter, but was born in isolation and will never be able to have quite the connection she’s looking for. Candace wants desperately to bust her brothers, by showing someone of authority the thins they create, but will never be able to.

Overcoming that one thing - that one obsession, that one addiction - is INCREDIBLY difficult, and usually other addictions arrive in the pursuit. Equius is addicted to milk and horses and hierarchy. Roxy is addicted to alcohol. Candace is addicted to video games and her phone, and above all else the insatiable urge to show people things, even when it cuts into her personal time and other relationships.

It doesn’t help that Candace is such a wellspring of void. Void deals in the existence and nonexistence of things, the nature of reality and what isn’t there. The potential for things to stop existing around Candace is so incredibly potent that she gives it a name, the “Mysterious Force,” and in the show’s late game learns to weaponize it. By season 4, Candace and the kids know that the Mysterious Force is THE fallback plan for if things go wrong, and in the show’s final episode, Last Day of Summer, Candace is even aware of things that DON’T exist in her reality anymore, even though nobody else does - such as Sporks, kakis, and her brothers. Candace is in fact able to communicate with those in the void, and finds a way to bring everything in it back into existence. Being a Maid of Void is an incredibly difficult role, but Candace is an INCREDIBLE Maid of Void.

Vanessa’s shoes are Heart Pink, because Perry is the player who helps her the most in the game. Candace’s shoes are Life Tan, because Vanessa is the player who helps her most in the game.

[melishade]

Hello!

About the ask game,

Can you do number 19? But make it about optimus and Megatron??

This ask game

Ooo. Fun. Drama. How about...Megatron's psyche during the Dark Timeline before Optimus' rescue

"What are you doing, Megatron?" Optimus demanded.

Megatron sighed to himself as he sharpened his blade with a rock. The environment around him was...dark. He couldn't see anything past Optimus. Part of him knew...this was a dream.

"Taking care of our mess," Megatron replied.

"You mean your mess," Optimus corrected, "Shockwave was your scientist. Your responsibility. If you had forfeited the war as you proclaimed, you should have done something about Shockwave."

"...I'm sure that staying on Cybertron for too long would have reignited the Decepticon movement," Megatron reasoned.

"You killed Airachnid before leaving," Optimus reminded, "I'm sure someone like you would have found the time. But because you did nothing, Shockwave is here. On this world. The human race is at risk of eternal suffering because of your inaction."

Megatron stood up to face Optimus. "How was I supposed to know that Shockwave would come to this backwaters planet? I didn't even know it existed until I was flung through an unstable 'bridge."

"You are Megatron: Leader of the Decepticons," Optimus reminded, "Your name alone either strikes fear or admiration into the sparks of those who would listen."

"I am not that person anymore," Megatron proclaimed.

"You are not a selfish, violent, mech, who only cares about his wants and needs over others?" Optimus challenged sarcastically.

Megatron's mouth formed a thin line.

"You stayed on this world because you wanted to make amends with me, no matter who got in your way," Optimus reminded, "As if that would be enough to repair all the damage you caused?"

"Then what would I need to do so that it will be enough?!" Megatron demanded in anger, "What?! What exactly do I need to do in order to be enough for you?! I am giving everything I have to save your precious humans and fix my mistake! What would be enough for you?!"

Optimus crossed his arms. "You are still making it about yourself, and what you want. No matter where you go, death will follow. And now my comrades are at risk. My home, and the people I love are at risk because of you."

"Of course I know that!" Megatron yelled, "I don't need a figment of my imagination telling me this nonsense! I already know your precious humans are terrified because of my failure! I'm tired of dealing with Hanji locking herself in her office instead of leading like she's supposed to! I'm tired of those humans depending on me for help! I'm tired of training all the titan shifters! I'm tired of dealing with Lara's hang ups about honor and duty! Most of all, I'm tired of dealing with Eren and all of his trauma! I am doing everything to keep them safe because I care! So just-!"

"Shut up!" Megatron screamed as he slammed his fists on the table and sat up from his chair. Megatron took a look at his surroundings and realized that he was on the neutral ship. Megatron sighed in irritation as he looked down at the table full of scattered tools, grateful that he didn't crush any with his strength.

"No wonder you don't sleep," a voice remarked. Megatron glared at Levi as he sat on the table with his legs crossed. He wore his 3D gear, and he was drinking water out of a canteen.

"You look like shit," Levi proclaimed.

"Get fragged," Megatron swore to him as he stood up.

"Just say fuck, you asshole," Levi told him.

"Report," Megatron ordered as he turned on the computer.

"Survey Corps are helping provide aid to refugees," Levi explained, "There's debate about going back to the mainland to help others."

"We don't have the resources, so no," Megatron declared, "What about the Restorationists?"

"Cooperating," Levi simply replied, "They haven't done anything stupid."

"Good," Megatron said as he began searching the database.

"What about Zeke?" Levi asked.

"As long as Lara does her job, Zeke shouldn't be a problem for the time being," Megatron explained.

"...I need your help," Levi confessed.

Megatron froze and snapped his head towards Levi. "What?"

"Yeah, I'm not happy about it either," Levi seethed.

"What could you possibly need help from me for?!" Megatron demanded. Megatron noticed...a rather somber look in Levi's eyes, like he was accepting defeat.

"It's about Hanji," Levi began, and Megatron wanted to scream. For Primus sake, of course it was about her.

(You can ask for more on the link above!)

[march-harrigan]

okay okay, march, i've had ideas tumbling in my head and i *doubt* i'm the first but it's been at least a couple months and my thoughts have been going and anyway--

imagine you've been kidnapped by the hatter, not just you, there's others too, and you've been kidnapped together in order for jervis to work out an idea he had where if he were to have a wonderland cast of the major characters sitting together at a tea party, where would it go. and obviously he's ignoring or doesn't think about the likelihood of it not working anyway because you know, these people were *kidnapped* and likely won't go with it (especially if most of these people haven't even read or watched a media to do with AiW) but that's beside the point-

anyway, jervis is getting frustrated because the idea can't even commence because people are freaking out or cursing him out or crying because great, they're dealing with the hatter, and near the opposite end of the table is you, startled and unsure what to do, because the last thing you remembered is painting something for a client at the park, and messing up by painting with the wrong colour- and now you're here. here, with the hatter, and a bunch of random hostages, and not at the park with your painting supplies and easle and everything you had-

next thing you know, while the hatter is resigning to the idea being a failure, you quip up that you can't be here, you have work, and- because you're one of the few to have actually read the books- someone will have your head. now, this catches the hatter's attention, partly because of your outburst among the others, but also because you're the only one who's said something even remotely Wonderland-esc. and his attention is captured, obviously, and he shushes everyone before turning his attention to you again, asking you to repeat what you just said.

"someone will have my head..?" you repeat as told, before going on. "i've to finish my work. painting, i have to paint- the, uh.. the queen will have my head if i don't finish. and i painted the wrong colour, you know what she'd do if she saw."

(i'm writing this with arkham jervis in mind where, despite his lucidity, he's still in his delusions half the time)

so obviously he *does* know what she'd do, and bada-bing-bada-boom, they're let go so they don't have their head off, and lafbdlinicubqwub yeah that's all i got but you know-- the hatter knows those playing cards have a tough job cut out for them

Okay but consider

instead of leaving right away, this knowledge of Wonderland gives you a valuable resource. It wouldn't be easy of course, but if you can assign the right characters and come up with a reasonable excuse, you could talk your way through the situation and help at least a few other people.

"Hang on... Oh no, no, no!" you might say, rushing over to one of the crying captives. "The poor mock turtle can't be seen at a big party like this. What if someone tries to make him into soup? Ah! And the White Rabbit!"

You hurry to the other side of the table to another of the hostages. This one looks quite agitated. "He's going to be late! We can't have him keeping the Queen waiting, now can we?"

Of course you'd need to be careful. The first few excuses are reasonable enough, maybe, but Jervis isn't stupid. Eventually, he's going to realize something's up and he's going to start questioning you if you push it. So for each person you help, you're making the situation all the more precarious for yourself. In fact, you're endangering yourself because once he realizes he's being lied to, he's going to be pissed.

Of course you could always diffuse the situation by offering yourself back into captivity for the release of the others, but now you're back at square one.

But hey. At least you know how to talk to him. So maybe you'll get through this okay. Just don't try to outright lie and manipulate him again. He won't be so forgiving a second time.

[eorzeaisnotcrash]

I went on and did them all. Help.

Patchouli

It depends on the expansion/patch/reason she’s stressed or scared. Joceline might encourage herself to do her best, remind herself people are depending on her, eat something, get drunk, start a bar fight, take a depression nap, go shopping, rest inside her own head while she lets Esteem have the reins, or work herself up to wring every bit of pain she can from the entity/entities who pissed her off. 

Before 5.X, on the morning of a fight she expects to be particularly difficult, Jojo offers a prayer to Rhalgr.

Jojo mostly paid lip service to begin with, and that was before she lost all her enthusiasm for the Twelve. There’s no coming back, especially now she’s learned the truth about them.

Oh, she definitely wants to protect. The only reason she bothers with some parts of MSQ is lowering the odds of losing any more people she cares about. She may grumble and sulk and play hooky, but she’ll kill what she has to kill, and she’ll side-eye anyone she thinks might hurt her people. And because she’s so good at dealing with threats, finding things, and making things, folks do tend to feel better when she’s around, even when she’s being a brat. She hates feeling stifled, and is careful not to give others reason to feel that way.

Well, there are the dungeons where she has to fight undead. And there’s the Lifestream. Jojo mainly feels this while witnessing Severian say goodbye, and after she and Paiyo Reiyo pay their respects to Edda.

Cinnamon

Jojo does enjoy it. How often she enjoys it depends on how hard they’re working her in a particular patch/expac. She doesn’t feel she has to keep it secret, but it’s something that just doesn’t occur to her to discuss without someone asking about it.

She comes from a big family, and while they weren’t starving, they definitely weren’t rich. The minute she no longer had to spend or sell everything she looted, she became a pack rat. She still is, and even though she now has a house, she’ll probably be that way till she stops existing. Depending on everybody else’s generosity might stretch resources others need for themselves, get her labeled as a mooch, or have her owing favors she doesn’t want or need to.

The weather doesn’t cause Jojo to feel more or less energetic.

Jojo loves dressing up and feasting and dancing and laughing… WHEN SHE CAN. She is not the one to endure a life of work work work and little fun. She doesn’t want all the trouble of being a host and she wouldn’t know where to start, so she’s definitely there as a guest.

She’s quite healthy. Physically.

Nutmeg

She tries to think clearly, but if things are bad (HW, SB, early 5.0 and parts of 6.0) she’s often sad, mad, and/or paranoid, and that definitely affects how she thinks.

She isn’t particularly eloquent when she does it, but Jojo expresses herself with ease.

She often tries to put herself in the other person’s shoes, assuming it’s not one of the times she’s so overworked and angry that she doesn’t care, but whether she can or can’t is on a case-by-case basis. If it’s a case of someone acting like they want X but then doing a more convoluted Y, she won’t get it. If you talk about achieving A, but are acting like issues B, C, and/or D are no big deal, she won’t understand what’s going through your head. If you’re worried for somebody’s safety, worn out from your job, or unhappy because you‘ve been bereaved, betrayed, and/or dehumanized, she can definitely empathize.

The situation has to involve her convictions to begin with. If Jojo feels pressured into or dragged into something, she’ll keep thinking about the odds of crashing and burning. If she WANTS to do what she’s doing, she’ll believe in it more readily, but she’s never 100% immune to doubt.

The horrible things that keep happening in 2.55 and 3.0 show her a couple of nasty realities. One, trusting people is dangerous. People in power (and this causes no problems whatsoever considering who the not-dead Scions need to interact with in Ishgard), mysterious crystals who claim to want to protect the star, non-combatant associates who arrogantly order everyone else around. Two, the Warrior of Light is not a person. She’s a weapon to kill what other people want her to kill; she’s dumb muscle to stand there quietly while other people make plans, and have emotions, and receive encouragement and comfort. Not long after she finally starts getting over these realities, she visits Noesis and is slapped in the face with proof that she and others have been taking orders from a primal. Great. And then there’s the end of her visit to Elpis, when she learns that she and her loved ones have been tapped in a time loop and she’s basically told Hydaelyn to kill Minfilia, and hey, the old world actually is kind of nice now that she’s seen it with her own eyes, but it has to go. She is immeasurably sorry she’s learned all of these things.

Clove

Jojo doesn’t do it on purpose, but people do start feeling safe around her when they believe they can depend on her. If she doesn’t like you or what she’s been press-ganged into doing, you may be able to feel the god-killers’s hostility rolling off of her, and that plus the lovely aromas of cheap wine and the blood of her enemies she can’t be bothered to wash off can be pretty unsettling. Now THAT she does on purpose.

She’s quite easygoing when she feels like a person. If she feels taken for granted, betrayed, dehumanized, lied to, stuck with people she doesn’t like or trust, or like she’s being talked down to -or if someone she cares about is being similarly abused -she will get cranky. She doesn’t bother to hide it and she wouldn’t be much good at it if she tried.

It depends. She would rather stay clean, but if her mood is too bad for too long, she can become quite unhygienic and stay like that for a while. If anyone has a problem with it, they’re welcome to go be the Weapon of Light while she takes enough time for herself to have a bath.

If she does, she’ll look for some running water and get the worst spots. Maybe if it rains hard enough she stands out in it.

Safety is having adequate shelter and food and funds. Safety is also being around people you can trust, as well as having skills and weapons to handle the times you aren’t. Safety means low odds of the place you lay your head being obliterated in a war or apocalypse… and safety means not being constantly thrown at a zillion enemies with little to no battle plan. Jojo chooses to do some dangerous things, but she definitely wants safety for herself and others.

Frankincense

Sometimes she thinks about what she needs to do in the future, or what she had no business doing and should never do again. Nidhogg and Esteem make themselves known with no effort on her part -she’s not likely to find anything scarier than them when she looks within.

If you’re curious or enthusiastic about something that she is. Or if she thinks you’re adorable and wants to see you thrive. Or if you do or say something that makes her think “wow, so cool!”

How old are you and which expac is this? She’ll always make an effort to keep things clean for the little ones and respectable elders (even if she can’t switch off the cynicism), but deep down she’s still twelve summers old. In HW-SB she generally does not care about self-censorship and is a bad bad girl.

There’s some Insane Jojo Logic behind some of what she says and does, but she always understands her own motives.

It depends on when/where they meet her (and therefore the amount of angry resting face she displays) and how they try. Even when she’s not in edgelady mode, if you approach her the wrong way she will become unsettled and shut you out, and you’ll have to work extra hard to learn about her.

Myrrh

Jojo originally hoped they went to one of the heavens. Then her fellow Scions told her about the Lifestream. She’s fine with the ancestors not watching over her -being dead, it’s not like they’d be able to help her much. (She eats those words at the Final Steps of Faith and again before the Dying Gasp.)

Oh, she’d get bored very quickly. She can be quiet with her own thoughts, though.

Sometimes Starlight makes her a little sad, because that’s about when the crap in Ul’dah happened, and she spent most of the holiday grieving the dead and dreading the day the Ascians went buckwild with no one to resist them. 

As long as they don’t intend to sic a god/gods on anyone, Jojo stays quiet and lets others meditate or worship as they see fit. She might even join in; it can’t hurt. In the case of the kami, between the not drowning and the interactions with Tsukumo, she straight-up converts.

While she can see physical damage and maybe feel sad about the waste of life, Jojo’s senses are pretty dull when it comes to this.

Scents of Samhain OC Ask List.

Celebrated from October 31st to November 1st, Samhain heralds the end of the harvest season and the onset of winter, or what the Celts considered the “darker half” of the year. As one of the major Celtic fire festivals, Samhain holds a place of significant importance, marking a period when the veil between worlds is thin and spirits are more likely to make an appearance.

Patchouli: Grounding, protection, and spiritual growth.

What does your OC use to anchor themselves emotionally during times of stress, or when they are feeling afraid? Do they think of a specific person? Focus upon their religious faith? Reflect upon a firmly held belief? Or something else?

Does your OC have any particular rituals or actions they perform for good luck, perhaps before embarking upon a risky venture or new activity?

How in touch is your OC with the spiritual beliefs and traditions of their culture of origin? Have they ever moved away from these? Perhaps only to return to them later?

How protective is your OC of those about whom they care? Does this ever come across as controlling or stifling? Or do they provide a quietly reassuring presence?

Are there specific times or places where your OC feels particular in touch with things beyond the everyday - whether the divine, the occult or the world of the dead.

Cinnamon: Warmth, prosperity, and vitality.

Does your OC enjoy feeling cosy? Perhaps being snuggled in blankets or wrapped in furs? If so, then is this something that they get to enjoy very often? And is it something about which they are quite private?

Is your OC someone who tends to store resources to get through the winter (or times of hardship in general)? Or are they more inclined to assume that things will work themselves out somehow - or even rely upon the generosity of others?

Does your OC feel more energetic or motivated during warmer seasons or when in hotter climates? Conversely, do they feel inclined to "hibernate" during colder weather?

Is your OC someone who enjoys feasting and carousing? If so then are they likely to be hosting such an event? Or more likely to be attending as a guest? If they don't enjoy such things, then what is the reason for their aversion?

Is your OC generally quite healthy? Or do they often come down with colds and minor ailments? Are they perhaps even a bit of a hypochondriac?

Nutmeg: Clarity, spiritual fortitude, and insight.

Would those who know your OC describe them as being rational and clear-thinking? Or are their thoughts often muddied by conflicting emotions? Or are they easily distracted by irrelevant details?

Does your OC find it easy to explain their views and opinions? Or do they find themselves grasping for the right words? Or perhaps stumbling over how to phrase something?

Is your OC easily able to empathise with others? Can they put themselves in someone else's shoes? Or are the motives and actions of others frequently a mystery to them?

Does your OC have the courage of their convictions? Or are they often beset by self-doubt or paralysed by indecision?

Was there a specific event or conversation which opened your OC's eyes to a particular reality? Do they ever regret learning the truth and feel nostalgic for their former innocence?

Clove: Safety, cleansing, and amiability.

Is your OC someone who makes those around them feel safe? Or is there something about them which others can find rather unsettling? If so, then is this the case constantly, or only in certain circumstances?

Is your OC generally easy-going? Or are they sometimes fussy, irritable or curmudgeonly? What tends to put them into a bad mood? Are they good at concealing the fact? Do they even try?

How important is cleanliness to your OC? Are they keen to wash and bathe as often as possible? Or can they go for extended periods without being troubled by any social expectations around personal hygiene?

When away from the comfort and convenience of amenities such as baths and showers, how does your OC keep themselves clean and fresh? If they do at all?

What does safety mean to your OC? Is it emotional or financial security? Or protection from physical harm? Is safety something for which they aim - either for themselves or others?

Frankincense: Connection, introspection, and purification.

Is your OC prone to introspection? Or do they not often look within themselves? If so then is this purely by inclination, or do they fear what they might discover?

What makes your OC feel an instant sense of connection to another person? A shared sense of humour? A common cultural heritage? Enjoyment of the same activities?

Is your OC a model of purity and innocence? Or are they prone to bawdy humour, sexual innuendos and cynical retorts? Perhaps they give the appearance of purity, but underneath things are a great deal murkier?

Does your OC ever do things and then afterwards find it hard to explain why they acted the way that they did? Or are they always clear on why they spoke or behaved in a certain way, even if they choose not to admit it to others?

Is your OC someone who other people consider easy to get to know? Are they, in fact, quite wrong about this?

Myrrh: Meditation, spiritual awareness, and grief.

Does your OC believe that their ancestors or dead relatives watch over them? Does this bring them comfort? Or would they actually rather they didn't?

Is your OC able to sit in silence with their own thoughts? Are they able to clear their mind and meditate? Or would they quickly become fidgety or bored?

Is there a particular date or season when your OC is more likely to reflect upon grief and loss? If they are grieving for a specific person then do they find times such as anniversaries or namedays particularly difficult?

To what degree is your OC mindful of the religious and spiritual beliefs of others? Even if they do not share them?

Is your OC sensitive to locations where great loss or suffering took place? Do they believe they can sense the echoes of past events? Or are they oblivious? How do they respond emotionally to being in such places?

[daechwitatamic]

Chapter 2: A Long Time Coming || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Complete Faith (Masterpost)

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader; {background SJ x OC, mentions of YG x OC, and HS x OC}

Rating: Soft R overall, this chapter: PG-13

Wordcount: 47k total; this chapter: 6218

Summary: It’s Taehyung himself who admits that it’s usually around the one-month mark that he starts to lose interest in his relationships. So even though you’re helplessly crazy about him… when you start dating, you feel like you’ve got an expiration date from day one. But will it be Taehyung’s issues that get in the way, or your own?

Alternate summary: coworkers to friends to lovers to idiots to lovers again

TW/CW: Full list on the Masterpost. This chapter: just strong language and alcohol consumption

Notes: This fic is complete and will be updated every Friday evening (EDT timezone).

A HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you to @kookstempo for the amazing (and ongoing lol) beta job tytytytyty!

Chapter 2: A Long Time Coming

April

The morning meeting, three hours after Ben’s departure, is unbearable. You can barely stay awake, and Nikki is shooting you what is the problem looks that you try desperately to ignore.

When the meeting ends, you book it back to your office, abandoning the daily routine of walking back with some Nikki/Jimin/Yoongi combination.

“Go away,” you hear her tell someone (probably Jimin) ruthlessly. “I need to talk to Y/N privately.”

“You could be a little nicer about it,” someone answers her lightly, and it isn’t Jimin. It sounds like Taehyung, actually. “Is she okay?”

Well, now you’re mortified. You glance at the small mirror you keep on the bookshelf to confirm that, yes, your eyes are still puffy and red, even though you stopped actively crying sometime early this morning. And yes, the bags under your eyes are a clear tell that you hadn’t slept. And yes, your makeup is doing nothing for you today, and yes, your hair looks like all you did was run a brush through it because… all you did was run a brush through it.

“Go away,” Nikki tells him again, not answering his question at all, and knocks on your door.

“Unlock,” she demands from the other side of the frosted glass.

You want to give her a hard time, but you don’t have it in you to be a troll right now. You unlock the door and step back to let her in, closing it quickly behind her. You think you see the shadow of someone loitering just down the hallway, but you ignore this. You sit back at your desk and put your head in your hands.

You need like eight or nine more coffees if you’re going to get through this day.

“You are being extremely weird,” she informs you. You keep your head in your hands and say nothing.

“Y/N? What’s the deal? Spill.”

“I truly don’t even know,” you tell her honestly, squeezing your eyes shut. “Ben showed up at my place last night. We had a huge fight, I even tried to kick him out at one point, make his ass drive three hours home at midnight. Things went from 0 to 100 in like, seconds. I just totally blew up at him out of nowhere.”

“It isn’t out of nowhere,” she says, her voice even quieter, as if she is afraid to say the truth too loud, as if softer will make it hurt less. “You’ve been furious at him for weeks.”

Not weeks. Months. You don’t know what changed – is it just the distance? Is it truly his job? Has he lost interest, fallen out of love with you? Is he over the whole thing? Does he have another girl in his new city, waiting for him to come home? It’s all possible, frankly.

“So did you break up?” she asks, finally.

You shake your head. “Not technically. But he and I definitely need to talk.”

She looks at you, warning playing across her features. “Y/N…”

You put up a hand to stop her. “Don’t lecture me, Nik, please, I can’t take it right now.”

She purses her lips, respecting this, but clearly holding back words. On your desk, your phone – your work phone – rings and you reach for the receiver.

“Human Resources, this is Y/N, how can I help you?”

Nikki stands, giving you a tiny wave, and mouths, Talk later? You nod, listening to the party on the other end of the line.

You take your lunch in your office, not wanting to field any more interrogations. You’re just standing to throw away your napkin when your phone buzzes.

[12:34 pm] Ben: Hey

[12:34 pm] Ben: I guess we should talk?

[12:37 pm] You: Yeah. I guess we’d better.

[12:39 pm] Ben: I’ll pick you up at 7?

[12:40 pm] You: that’s fine rn, I’ll let you know if that changes… if I have to get Sierra or anything

[12:55 pm] Ben: See you at 7.

You decide a few hours later that you deeply, desperately need more coffee. You get an after-lunch energy slump most days, but after barely sleeping last night it is hitting you hard today. You head towards the staff room, clutching your coffee mug.

Taehyung is there, filling a Styrofoam cup with hot water and ripping open the packaging for a teabag.

“Hey,” he smiles at you, shuffling aside so you can stick your mug under the spout for the coffee.

“Hi,” you say back, glancing at him. You do a quick double-take. Taehyung is generally pretty smiley, it’s one of the reasons you never took him too seriously – he never seemed that serious himself. But today, something is off. His eyes look tight, his shoulders too tense.

“Um, are you-?” you say, surprising yourself. You hadn’t really made the decision to inquire, but here came the words anyway. “-Are you okay?”

He looks at you, then fishes for a sugar packet for his tea. “Right as rain. Thanks.”

You chew on your lip, filling your mug to the brim and scooting over to the fridge for the little jug of creamer kept in there. “You sure? You look… stressed.”

When he just looks at you, you backpedal quickly. “I’m sorry – don’t take that the wrong way. You look great. I mean, you look fine.” Oh my GOD, what is wrong with you? “I just, I didn’t mean to overstep. I just – I only-.”

“Y/N,” he stops you gently, your name coming out of his mouth like a sigh. “Relax.” He takes a breath. “I’m okay. Thanks for checking.” He opens his mouth, his eyebrows bunching up quizzically, but then Jimin breezes through the door.

“Ah, my two favorite coworkers!” he grins. “Coffee time?”

“I’m telling Yoongi that he’s not your favorite,” you tease. “And you know Taehyung doesn’t drink coffee.”

Wait. Since when did you know Taehyung doesn’t drink coffee? Your brain is shorting out up there. You decide to make a hasty retreat, telling the guys goodbye, and head back to your own space.

You call Sierra from the car on your drive home.

“Hi Tiny,” you say. “I can’t call you at bedtime tonight, so I’m calling now.”

“Why not?” she asks.

“I’m going out to dinner with Ben,” you admit.

“OooOooohh,” she teases. “Are you two going to kiss?”

“Oh my god, don’t be such a giant weirdo!” you laugh. “If he’s really nice to me, I’ll let him hold my hand.”

A few minutes later, she tells you, “Mommy wants to talk to you.”

“Okay. Bye, Tiny. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Here’s Mommy.” There was silence and then your mother’s voice – “Hello? Y/N?”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Are you busy on Sunday?” she asks. “I keep forgetting to tell you. Sierra’s got a violin recital.”

Noooooo no no no no no no no. “Are you on speakerphone?” you ask cautiously.

“No.”

You lower your voice to a whisper. “Okay, how long do you think this thing will be? Can I sneak out after Tiny’s turn?”

Your mom laughs, and for a second things feel really normal. You feel light and okay and wow, it’s been a while since you’ve felt that.

“There are ten students,” she says, thinking out loud. “Less than ten minutes per kid… probably around an hour and a half of them playing? Then there’s a little reception after – finger sandwiches and that kind of thing.”

You groan. “You know I love Tiny more than anything on this Earth, but that honestly sounds like torture.”

“We’ll pick you up at 10:30,” she tells you, as if you had said it sounded like a glorious day and you couldn’t wait. “Wear something pretty.”

At 6:00 you’re in your closet, digging around for something pretty - not for the nine-year-old’s violin recital, but for your dinner with Ben. You finally choose a more conservative black dress with long sleeves and a keyhole back. Appropriate. It looks like mourning wear.

When Ben pulls up outside of your apartment building, you walk quickly to slide into the passenger seat. He looks over at you as you shut the door and buckle up.

“Hi,” he says. “You look really nice.”

“Thanks,” you say, feeling weirdly shy. He starts to pull away, the silence ballooning between you, and you truly cannot take it.

“Ben?” you say tentatively. “I know we’ll talk it all out... and we should wait until we’re out of the car… but I wanted to say I’m really sorry for cursing at you like that.”

“That’s all you’re sorry for?” he asks, not looking over.

You push back the wave of defensiveness. “No,” you admit. “Not the only thing. But it is the thing I’m most sorry for.”

He nods, eyes on the road. “I appreciate the apology,” he says finally.

You don’t speak again until you’re at the restaurant.

“I…” he starts, then stops. He tugs a hand through his hair, looks around the room, taps his fingertip against the table. Then he tries again. “Y/N, I just really don’t understand what happened.” He looks at you, eyes almost wild. “I mean, seriously, what the hell happened?”

“I have the same question,” you tell him quietly. This is it, this is the moment. You barrel ahead before you can lose your nerve. “But not about last night. What happened between, I don’t know, December and now?”

In his defense, he takes this seriously. He hears what you are really asking, and he stops, and he thinks for a minute.

“I don’t think there’s an easy answer to that,” he finally admits. “Nothing happened.”

“Right, exactly,” you jump in. “Nothing happened, but here we are. I blew up last night because I’m stressed over my mom’s situation, and I worry like crazy about Sierra being okay, and it’s a lot sometimes and then everything with you boiled over when you touched on that…” You pause, looking at him, feeling a little helpless. “I take full responsibility for blowing up last night. I apologize – I am so sorry I said those things. But I don’t think we’ll be okay until we figure out how we got to that point. How I ended up so fed up, you know?”

He nods, but keeps his eyes on the tablecloth.

“Ben,” you say… afraid to ask the question, but knowing you have to. “Do you still want to be with me? Really?”

“Yes,” he says simply.

And it isn’t enough. It isn’t what you need. You need him to say yes and I love you and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and I’ll do better and, fuck, maybe even you mean so much to me, I can’t imagine losing you.

But all he says is yes.

“It… hasn’t felt like it. For a while.”

It’s hard to say this. It’s hard to admit this. It kicks your pride in the dick, it makes you feel weak and pitiful, but he needs to know, doesn’t he?

Ben furrows his brow in frustration. “I don’t know what else to do, Y/N,” he says, exasperation laced through his voice. “I keep telling you – I’m so busy with work. And then when I am awake it’s like the middle of the night, and you’re asleep… and then when we do talk you just nag me-.”

“It isn’t nagging to communicate my needs,” you say, hearing the edge in your voice but unable to soften it. “This isn’t enough for me and I am trying to make you see that.”

You lock eyes across the table.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he says, and this is close enough to what you need to hear that you feel yourself breathe again.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you whisper.

“Me too,” he says. It is, yet again, just not quite what you need.

“Are we okay?” you ask. You feel so small and it really truly sucks.

“That’s entirely up to you,” he says, and he sounds cold again. “You’re the one who doesn’t think this is enough for them.”

You huff in frustration. It feels like you’re having two separate conversations.

“Ben,” you say, trying to explain yourself. “On the days where I don’t hear from you, I honestly feel single. Like, so lonely, no one to tell about my day… and then add on top that I’m missing you, too. I’m not telling you that you aren’t enough for me. I’m telling you the current amount of talking is not enough for me. This isn’t going to work if nothing changes.”

He grimaces. “I don’t know what I can promise you, Y/N. I’m already doing my best. I don’t know what else I have to give.”

You look at each other, a stalemate.

“Can’t you just try?” you finally ask, all the air leaving you with the words. It’s tiny and it’s desperate, and it makes you feel pitiful. “Can’t you just promise to try?”

Before you go to sleep that night, you get a text.

[11:42 pm] Ben: Goodnight, sweet dreams

“I think,” you say seriously to Nikki on Friday night, “I might be the most in love I have ever been in my life.”

She looks at you flatly, tired of your shit already and it’s only 8 pm.

“No, I mean it,” you tell her, pointing a finger. “This is what life is about. I want to get married. I want longevity.”

“Y/N, they’re just onion rings.”

Seokjin walks by at that exact moment and throws you both a grin. “The best damn onion rings you’ve ever tasted, right?”

“Yes,” you say emphatically. “That’s exactly what I was trying to tell her.”

There are about six of your coworkers (mostly Nikki’s friends) crowded around the table, plus a handful of Jin’s friends that you don’t really know. Yoongi is somewhere in the middle, talking animatedly to his girlfriend, who is – side note - adorable.

Jimin and Taehyung are way at the other end, laughing so hard they are practically crying, holding onto the table for support, as they compare pinky sizes. Every time they catch their breath and get it together, they lose it all over again at Jimin’s teeny pinky barely making it to the knuckle on Taehyung’s. You don’t think either of them is even drunk, they’re just honestly that ridiculous together. Taehyung’s friend is with them, laughing along, but you haven’t been introduced.

Seokjin had been buzzing around for a while but he finally settles in next to Nikki. “No Ben?” he asks, and Nikki elbows him, as subtle as an elephant.

You glance at your phone again. Nothing. Your heart sinks into your stomach, disappointment followed by a wave of anger, just as it had every time you checked your phone between Thursday morning and now.

“Nope,” you say curtly. “That’s part of why I’m trying to marry fried foods now.”

“You could do worse,” he says seriously.

Not only is Ben late – he promised to be there by 8 and he’s later with every tick of the clock – but he hasn’t texted you even once today.

So much for trying harder.

After chatting with Seokjin and Nikki for a little about the tv show you finally caught up on, you stand to go order a new drink at the bar. Beside you, the couple sits with their heads close together, talking very quietly about something. You leave them alone, not wanting to intrude.

A decent chunk of the crowd has moved to the dancefloor as the restaurant staff pushed the tables aside to move into Bar Mode for the night. Taehyung and Jimin are still at their end of the table, talking to two guys you didn’t know. You don’t see Yoongi and his girlfriend anywhere, but he hasn’t told you goodbye so you figure they’re around somewhere.

At the bar, you lean over and tell the bartender what you’d like, then straighten back up while you wait. The guy next to you turns and gives you a little smile.

“You with that group?” he asks, beer glass in hand.

“Yep,” you answer shortly with a tight-lipped smile. What a dance it is – being friendly enough to not get called a bitch, but not so friendly that you get called a tease.

“I’ve been watching for a few minutes,” he says, and you think, That’s not creepy at all, please continue…. “It doesn’t seem like you have anyone to talk to over there. Why don’t you sit here for a little for some conversation?”

Who said I want conversation?

“No thanks,” you say, and the bartender slides your drink over to you. You point at Jin so he knows to put it on the party’s tab.

“Come on, be a good sport,” the guy cajoles. You frown. He doesn’t seem to notice. “What’s your name?”

You take a small step backwards, but he moves with you. “I’m going to go back with my friends,” you say firmly, but still with that little smile.

“Hey -,” he says, reaching for you as you step away, but then there’s a heavy arm over your shoulders and a solid body pressed against your side.

“I wondered where you went,” Taehyung says, smiling down at you. It’s not the boxy, happy smile. It actually looks kind of… dangerous. You must be drunk. Behind the smile, he looks a little pissed. His eyes are glinty. It’s kind of hot, but you tell your brain to heel.

“I’m right here,” you say with a coy smile, playing along. “Did you miss me?”

The guy at the bar is opening and closing his mouth like a fish, slowly flushing red.

“Have a nice night!” you chirp, and you let Taehyung wheel you around and walk you back towards the table, his hand moving from your shoulders to the small of your back as he guides you.

“I hope that was okay,” he whispers, dipping his head low so you can hear him. “I was heading over for a beer and your body language didn’t look good. Did I fuck up?”

“You didn’t fuck up,” you assure him quickly, “but I don’t want you to think I’m helpless! I could have handled it.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t need to handle it,” he tells you. Instead of going back to where you had been sitting with Nikki and Seokjin, you join Taehyung back on the other side of the table with Jimin. Your legs press together as you sit, but you’re buzzed, and you’re pissed at Ben, and Taehyung looks like Taehyung, so you make the very quick decision to not give a shit and just let it be. Your back is tingling where his hand had rested.

You sit there talking for a while with Jimin and Taehyung, who introduces you to his college friend Jungkook. You’re laughing so hard you rest your head on your arms for support when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You look up to find Ben staring down at you, very sober, and clearly unhappy.

“Ben,” you say, straightening up right away.

“You look comfortable,” he says flatly, eyeing how closely you’re sitting to Taehyung. You move quickly, not just away, but up – scrambling to your feet unsteadily.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you ask him, not even caring that you have quite an audience. “That’s what you have to say? I’ve been calling and texting you for -,” you glance at the time, “ten fucking hours! Not to mention that I heard exactly zero words from you yesterday day or night!”

“Are we really doing this again?” he asks you, stepping closer, voice low.

“What do you mean again? Again indicates that we ever stopped! You couldn’t even make it a full 24 hours acting like you give a shit about me!” You are uncomfortably aware of all the eyes watching this go down, and so is Ben.

“Let’s go outside and talk,” he suggests.

You’re furious at his audacity, but you know he’s right. You follow him away from the table, casting an apologetic look at the guys as you leave. The air outside is cold – spring has been in full bloom (no pun intended) during the day but the nights have been chilly. The cold air sobers you immediately, and you feel the anger seep out of you, leaving a hollow, devastated sadness instead.

“Ben,” you say softly. “Do you recognize how fucked up it is that you ignored me since our conversation Wednesday night, then showed up here two and a half hours late only to immediately make a dig at me like I’m doing something wrong?”

“What was with you and that guy?” he counters, gesturing back at the restaurant’s lit windows.

“Literally nothing,” you say evenly. “He works with me, I was talking to the whole group of my coworkers. But that is so far from the point.” You stop talking, walk a few steps, then turn back around. “I can’t do this anymore. I cannot do this one more day, Ben.”

He cocks his head at you, frowning. “Threatening me with a breakup again?”

You shake your head. “It’s not a threat. I really mean it. I just truly do not have it in me to keep doing this, fighting, feeling heartbroken even when we’re together… I can’t take it. I’m sorry… I have a lot of love for you, but…”

But I deserve better than this.

“But it’s done,” you finish.

“You’re unbelievable,” he says, voice still low, and steps toward you. “I’ve driven here three times this week, and you want to act like I’m not doing my part? What a delusional fucking bitch -.”

“Hey!” someone shouts from the door, and with a fresh wave of absolute shame you think it’s Taehyung rescuing you a second time in less than an hour – fuck, you really need to cut your losses and go the hell home – but it’s Seokjin, coming through the front door, Nikki hot on his heels.

“Fuck off, Ben!” she tells him sweetly. “Y/N said you’re done, we all heard her.”

“Go inside, you guys,” you tell them quietly, so embarrassed you could just combust.

They don’t; they stay frozen in place, watching the situation before them. Ben turns and walks back towards where he must have parked his car, not looking back. You watch him go and feel…. Empty. Your chest hurts, your feet hurt, your eyes burn, you need to get home now.

You face Nikki. It’s hard. You want the sidewalk to just swallow you up. It can let you out in a few days when the shame has ebbed a little. She doesn’t let you get away with that for even a second before she rushes forward to wrap you in a hug.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly.

“I really, really, really want to go home,” you whisper back. “But I do not want to go back in there and look a single person in the eyes.”

She looks at Seokjin and they have what appears to be a very effective silent conversation. He nods, she nods back.

“Stay here,” she tells you. “Get an Uber – I’ll go home with you. Jin will get me in the morning. I’ll just run inside and grab your purse and your coat, okay?”

You close your eyes, practically sagging with relief. “Nikki, you are literally my favorite person on this planet.”

She giggles and gives you a smooch on the cheek, and then hurries inside to hunt for your stuff.

The bar inside is crowded as midnight creeps closer, and Nikki struggles to make her way through the packed dancefloor and over to the table that Jin’s party had claimed. Once there, she starts poking around the coats, looking for your fuzzy one. She is halfway aware of the conversation happening behind her as she picks up one coat after another –

“-boyfriend?”

“Yeah, his name is Ben. We’ve met once or twice. He’s… eh.”

“I hope I didn’t cause an issue… we were just talking.”

Nikki watches out of the corner of her eyes, slowing her coat hunting so she can eavesdrop longer, as Jimin shrugs at this.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Even if you did cause a thing, seems like you probably did her a favor. She could do better.”

“Definitely,” Taehyung agrees, and Jimin slaps his chest playfully.

“Hey, what do you care, anyway? You and Y/N barely even talk. You interested?”

Taehyung opens his mouth to answer this, and then spots Nikki hovering near them, your coat in her hands. He freezes, eyes widening comically, mouth still open, and flushes deep red from the neck up.

Nikki grabs your clutch off the table and waves it at them. “I heard nothing! I know nothing! I came in, I got the coat, I left! Goodbye!”

She leaves them before anyone can reply, pushing back through the crowd, making her way back to your side.

When your alarm goes off in the morning, you reach out and press the button without opening your eyes. You press your face into the flat mattress, breathing, assessing. Nikki is still asleep next to you, snoring lightly. You can hear rain hitting the air conditioner. You do not seem to have a hangover, though they do sometimes sneak up on you once you’re up.

So here you go. It’s morning, and it’s time to get up and live your life. Which is now a life without Ben.

You don’t move, not even lifting your face from the mattress. Finally, you bribe yourself with the promise of so much coffee, and you get up, shuffling towards the bathroom.

Nikki finds you in the living room about half an hour later, the coffee cup between your hands as expected.

“Morning,” you greet her. “There’s coffee. I’ve got juice in the fridge, too.”

“Thank you,” she says, eyes still mostly closed, as she makes her way into the kitchen. You hear the fridge open and then close. She joins you on the couch with a heavy plop, pulling roughly at the blanket you have wrapped around your legs, trying to stick her feet under, too.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, untucking a corner so she can slide her legs under. “Sheesh.”

“It’s cold in here,” she says defensively. Then, “How are you doing?”

You shrug. The honest answer is terrible but you don’t want to say it. “I’m okay. It just feels…. weird.”

She sighs, leaning against you. “I know it isn’t really helpful right now… but I think you did the right thing. And it will feel better, with time.”

She’s right.

It isn’t helpful.

[2:34 pm] Jimin: heyyyy did you make it home safe last night?

[2:37 pm] You: if I didn’t, it’s a little late for you to help!

[2:38 pm] Jimin: why are you like this.

[2:40 pm] You: lololol. Yes, Nikki came home with me, all good. Did we miss anything amazing?

[2:42 pm] Jimin: YES. We switched bars and Tae’s friend Jungkook did karaoke with us and he has THE most amazing voice, I’m not even kidding. It was mindblowing.

[2:46 pm] You: I won’t lie you to, Jimin. I am not sorry that I missed karaoke.

[2:29 pm] Jimin: You are no fun, Y/N. No fun at all.

[2:30 pm] You: rude.

[2:37 pm] Jimin: So like… I’m only asking because I want to make sure you’re alright…. But that looked kind of bad last night. Are you okay???

[2:38 pm] You: ugggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[2:39 pm] You: can everyone pls just collectively forget that all happened, it’s so embarrassing

[2:40 pm] Jimin: please don’t feel embarrassed, we all care abt u.

[2:42 pm] You: I broke up with him

[2:50 pm] Jimin: Y/N I am SO sorry. I hope you’re doing okay. We love you.

[2:51 pm] You: who is this ‘we’???

[2:52 pm] Jimin: WHY ARE YOU LIKE THISSSSSS

[2:54 pm] You: lololol I love u 2, see you monday

Sunday starts the same as Saturday – a brief second of peace as you first wake up, and then the stomach-pain sadness that comes as you remember.

But you are going to get up, put one foot in front of the other and all that shit, until it feels better.

First, coffee.

--

You clutch a bit of the hem of your floral dress between your thumb and forefingers and rub it absently. The bald head belonging to the man in front of you mostly blocks your view, but if you lean a little to the left you’d see the most nervous foursome of preteen girls you’ve ever seen in your life, seated with their string instruments on the humble stage at the front of the room.

Sierra’s recital is being held at a cultural center in town, previously a library built before the turn of the century. The high ceilings make for great acoustics, you’ve been told. The string quartet begins their first number again, after one of the girls’ music stands had tipped and dumped her sheet music on the floor. They’d had to stop and regroup, electing to start again. The stand-tipper was still beat red, and the girl to her left looked clammy and sweaty from nerves.

Your phone buzzes on your lap, and you do an honest-to-god double-take when you see the name on your screen.

[11:37 am] WORK – Kim Taehyung: do you think it would make them less nervous if I sang along really off-key?

You wheel your head around, scanning the crowd, eyes wide with disbelief. Is he here? Why? And when the fuck did you put his number in your phone?! You have, truly, zero recollection of that happening.

Your phone buzzes again.

[11:38 am] WORK – Kim Taehyung: other side :)

You peek behind you the other way, more subtly this time, and catch his eyes a few rows back. He grins and you feel yourself smiling back. He jerks his chin towards the empty seat beside him and raises an eyebrow. You don’t even think about it before you are murmuring, “Excuse me,” to the people you have to step over to make your way out to the aisle and back to him.

“Hi,” he whispers, still smiling, when you sit. He smells good. Heel, brain, heel!

“Hello,” you whisper back. “What on Earth are you doing here?”

He points at the stand-tipper, who is still bright red even as their first number comes to a close. “The very stylish tomato up there is my little cousin.”

“Wow,” you say. “I don’t think I love any of my cousins enough to sit through something like this.”

He laughs at this, which causes a few heads to turn. An older lady behind him reaches up and whacks him on the shoulder with her program. He gives her a sheepish face and she sits back again, satisfied with her scolding.

“My aunt,” he explains, voice barely even loud enough to be considered a whisper. You’re watching his lips very closely to understand what he’s saying. No other reason. You nod silently, not wanting to be his aunt’s next victim.

The quartet finishes their second piece, and you clap politely along with the rest of the crowd. As they shuffle off-stage, a little boy replaces them at the piano. You sit and try to listen, try not to sneak sideways glances.

When Sierra’s turn comes, you whisper to Taehyung, “I’m going to tell you two things. One: I love this little human more than anyone on this Earth. Two: this is going to hurt your ears, and I am sorry.”

He stifles a laugh, pressing his lips together in mirth, nodding to show he understands and accepts his fate.

Sierra places the violin under her chin, lifts her bow, but scans the crowd instead of looking at her music stand. You know your mom is in the back, you saw her earlier standing with Sierra as they waited for her turn. But Sierra’s eyes find yours, and you give her the most encouraging smile you can muster up. Taehyung, a total stranger to your Tiny, throws a thumbs-up into her line of view for good measure. She takes a breath… and begins her assault on the eardrums of every person in the building.

You feel your smile freeze on your face, and you cannot look at Taehyung or you will laugh, and if you laugh right now it will shatter your poor baby sister’s heart.

--

You separate from Taehyung during the reception to find your families. Sierra greets you with a bear hug, and you lift her feet off the ground and swing her a little.

“I’m so proud of you!” you tell her. “You showed that piece who’s boss!”

She giggles, and you set her back on the ground. Your mother comes to hug you, and you return it. You pick at some fruit salad, chasing a very disobedient grape around the tiny paper plate with your plastic fork.

“Who was that you were sitting with?” your mom asks, and you can tell she’s looking at Taehyung across the room. You refuse to follow her gaze.

“Weird coincidence,” you say, still trying to spear the offending grape. “He works with me, he’s in the business office with Jimin. His cousin is the cellist.”

“He is really cute,” Sierra says, so fucking loudly, and you give her a wide-eyed shut up or perish look.

“ANYWAY,” you say loudly, “I’m going to go anywhere but with you two and do anything but talk about this. Goodbye!”

This is you channeling Nikki, for sure, but it works, and you head towards the food table even though you don’t want more food. God, those two! And neither of them even knew you weren’t with Ben anymore! The nerve!

You pour yourself a cup of (sadly, unspiked) punch just to do something. You glance at Taehyung – he’s easy to find across a crowded room, he’s so damn tall – and see he is surrounded by the program-wielding aunt and his little cousin (who is no longer bright red), as well as a beautiful, middle-aged woman who stands with a cane. You watch as Taehyung glances around, then speaks softly to a young man sitting in a folding chair. The younger man stands, and Taehyung ushers the woman with the cane to this seat. You turn and head back to your own little cluster.

“Let’s talk about how great Tiny was!” you say brightly, hoping to steer the conversation into less potentially mortifying waters. “You were so brave! Were you scared?”

“So scared,” she says immediately. “I was shaking! I could barely see the music!”

“It seemed like you knew the notes,” you tell her, seriously.

She nods emphatically. “I memorized it.”

You meet your mother’s gaze, astonished. She smiles at you, clearly proud. “You wouldn’t believe how many hours Sierra spends practicing,” she says. You actually feel a little bad for your mother… there’s a first.

A little bit later, you make your way into the hallway to find the ladies’ room. Your mom had gotten pulled into conversation by Sierra’s teacher and another parent, and the kids themselves had gone outside to run around and ruin their nice clothes. You’re breathing in the silence of the hallway compared to the noisy reception room when you spot Taehyung again, coming in from outside.

“It’s getting ready to pour out there,” he warns you.

“Oh,” you say, surprised. You hadn’t noticed the clouds roll in. “I guess I better get her inside.”

He nods, then looks at his feet, shuffling awkwardly. “Hey, Y/N,” he says, and then stops. You just look at him, wait for him to find his words, having no idea where this was going to go.

“Listen,” he says, and his voice is gentle, “about Friday night…”

“Oh,” you say again. You don’t mean to. It just comes out.

“I wanted to apologize… if I… accidentally…” He is struggling, and you decide to help him out.

“Taehyung, it’s really sweet of you to feel like you need to say sorry, but you have nothing to apologize for. Beyond nothing, seeing as you helped me out with that asshole at the bar. You didn’t do anything wrong. We were just talking, there’s nothing going on here.”

He shuffles more, unconvinced. “I know that, but I think it looked bad. I just can’t help wondering if you had been at the other end of the table with Nikki…”

“Ben and I broke up last night – which I assume you know because Jimin has a big mouth – but I promise it had nothing to do with you. It was… a long time coming. To say the least.”

He meets your eyes, frowning. “I’m still really sorry. I hope you’re okay.”

You nod, looking away, towards the windows that showed the clouds growing darker and darker, threatening to wash it all away. “I will be,” you tell him. <- Ch 1 | Masterpost | Ch 3 -> Bonus: Taehyung's POV

Thank you SO MUCH for being here!!! Every single like means the world to me. Chapter 3 has one of my favorite moments of the whole story, so buckle up!

[the-bau-quinjet]

One Misunderstanding

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You struggle to fix Bucky's first impression of you. Bucky struggles with his own feelings.

Warnings: angst, Hydra things- like brainwashing and torture, a few curse words, panic attacks, anxiety

Word count: 5609

a/n: this idea came to me very suddenly, but I'm in love with it. Hopefully whatever I just wrote does it justice.

Masterlist

"Everyone, meet Y/N. She's the newest member of our little group, bringing in a whole new level of hacking and tech skills. Y/N, meet the team." Tony introduced you to everyone, eager to share your skills.

You turned to the group, getting ready to introduce yourself further, but instead tripped. You shrieked as you fell down the small set of stairs you were at the top of.

Sam, being the closest, caught you. "Good thing you've got tech skills." He chuckled as you righted yourself, firmly planting your feet on the ground.

"Haha, yeah. I'm not a big fan of violence." You winced as you said it, wishing you could take it back. You didn't want to get into the reasons as to why you don't like violence.

To your surprise, nobody asked why. You would have guessed they would have questions, but maybe they weren't interested in your past. They all had their own issues to deal with afterall.

"Eh, we don't need anymore people for fighting anyway. Welcome to the team." Steve greeted you warmly, as you would have expected from America's golden boy.

You gratefully shook his hand, glad to not have to talk about anything yet. Unfortunately, you tripped again when you tried to move back, falling into the one and only Bucky Barnes.

His hands steadied you, dryly laughing at your clumsiness. "You really are clumsy."

You did you best to not show how embarrassed you were. You couldn't deny the claim. Unless you were fighting, something you vowed to yourself to never do again, you were clumsy.

Being abducted and tortured by Hydra may have made you a competent fighter, but your aptitude for tripping over nothing never left.

"Right, sorry!" You greeted everyone else quickly, eager to get situated in your room. "I'm just going to unpack everything." You waved as you backed out of the room, bumping into the wall as you left.

-

You had just finished putting away your stuff when you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in!" You figured someone would have questions for you.

Unsurprisingly, Natasha was the one to step into your room. Of everyone there, you expected her to have learned about your past. It comes with the territory of being a spy.

"Hi, I was hoping to talk to you." Her tone was friendly, but clearly she was skeptical of you. Again, you weren't surprised.

"I thought you might. I'm assuming you read my file? Honestly, I thought everyone would." You laughed gently, shaking your head at yourself.

"I did. Your file is pretty bare bones though. I did some extra digging... Not everyone else is as nosy as me." She grinned, already pleased with your openness. "So, why'd you pretend to be clumsy?"

"Oh, it wasn't pretend. I've always been clumsy. When everything happened, and I learned how to fight, I thought my newfound agility would help. Turns out, it didn't. The only times I'm even the slightest bit coordinated are when I'm fighting or training, but I wasn't lying about that either. When I escaped, I promised myself I wouldn't hurt anyone else."

"Why join the Avengers at all then?" She looked curious, still unsure if she could trust you.

"I wanted to help people. I just didn't want to use the skills they gave me to do it. So, I learned how to code, figured I could help behind the scenes."

She smiled, letting down her guard. Clearly it would take some time, but you could easily see the two of you being close friends.

"So, nobody knows about what you went through?" She couldn't help but be curious about your past.

"Nope. I don't talk about it much, but it's not a secret. I'll answer anything you want to know." You smiled, eager to try and make a real friend here.

You spent the next few hours answering every question Natasha could think of. You told her about being abducted and experimented on.

That lead to even more questions, basically boiling down to the fact that you're not a super soldier, but you do have enhanced senses- and seemingly enhanced clumsiness for when you're not using them.

You told her about learning how to fight, and the punishments you would endure if you got it wrong. The two of you bonded over the shared experience.

Finally, you told her about how you escaped. When the Winter Soldier escaped, every Hydra effort possible was made to find him. That included you. Resources were spread thin, trying to cover more areas. It was the perfect opportunity for you to get out.

"Really, I owe my freedom to him. Even if he doesn't know anything about me." You felt the tears in your eyes, too many emotions swirling through you to keep it all in anymore. "Since then, I've learned everything I could about technology and coding, which pretty much brings you up to date."

Before she could ask anymore questions, there was another knock on your door. Quickly wiping the tears from your eyes, you called another "come in!"

Steve poked his head in the door, cautiously looking between you and Nat.

"I've been sent to stop the interrogation." He grinned, stepping farther into the room.

Nat rose from her spot on the bed, kissing him on the cheek while rolling her eyes. "It wasn't an interrogation. We were bonding."

"Yeah, over what?" He chuckled, trying to figure out what the two of you had in common.

Maybe it was the look in your eyes, or maybe Nat just likes knowing more than everyone, but she smiled conspiratorially at you before responding. "Girl stuff, babe. Just girl stuff."

You smiled as the couple left the room, grateful for not having to explain everything again.

-

Over the next few weeks, the team constantly teased you for your clumsiness. Well, not the whole team. Nat knew the truth, so she never said anything. Peter never teased you either, although that is likely due to the teasing he endures as well.

Weirdly enough, you bonded with the kid over it, eventually telling him about your past as well.

Normally you could shake it off. They clearly didn't mean anything by it. Except Bucky.

Whenever he said anything, he stared you down. His eyes felt like they were piercing your soul. You're not sure exactly why, but he didn't seem to like you much.

Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have an embarrassing crush on the man.

Really your infatuation started when you first escaped Hydra. His own escape lead to your freedom, so you admired him. When you found out he was working with the Avengers to help people, you admired him even more.

Watching him on missions is really what caused the infatuation to blossom into a full blown crush.

You, however, would adamantly deny that if anyone ever asked. Which is what just happened.

"What?!" You nearly tripped, again, with how quickly you turned to look at Wanda and Nat.

"You heard me." Nat stared at you, a neutral expression on her face. "When are you going to do something about your crush on Barnes."

"I, I don't- I don't have a crush on Bucky." You stuttered, a lackluster job at denying the truth.

"Please, Y/N. It's so obvious!" Wanda joined in.

The three of you hung out a lot around the compound. It was nice to have a support system to lean on when things got hard.

"Well, even if I did, which I'm not saying I do! He doesn't like me. I don't know what I did, but his eyes feel like daggers whenever we're in the same room." You started out strong, but quickly morphed into a sad resignation. It genuinely upset you that Bucky didn't like you.

"I think I might know what that's about..." Wanda bit her lip, immediately feeling guilty at having said anything.

"What!?" You eagerly turned to her, needing answers. You shuffled your way across the room, never fully rising from your seat on the ground.

"I don't know if I should tell you! I'm not even supposed to know, but sometimes his thoughts are really loud!" Her guilt multiplied.

"You have to tell me now! Then I can fix it!" You were practically begging at her feet from your position on the floor.

She looked at Nat, who just shrugged in return. "Not my place, although I would love to hear it."

"Ugh, fine. But you can't tell anyone I told you!" Wanda glared at the two of you, unable to say no to your pouting face. "The first day we all met you, do you remember what you said?"

Your face scrunched as you tried to remember. "I'm not a big fan of violence?"

She nodded, looking at you as if she just told you everything.

"So?" You asked incredulously, unable to follow her train of thought.

She rolled her eyes, having to spell it out for you. "He kind of took that personally..."

Immediately, you sunk completely to the floor. "Oh, god. Fuck! That's not what I meant at all! I just meant I don't personally like using violence! Shit, shit, shit." You continued to mutter to yourself as Nat and Wanda shared a look.

"Why don't you like using violence?" Wanda asked, intrigued by your reaction.

You thought back to your conversation with Nat the first day you got here. You told her it wasn't a secret, it just wasn't something you brought up.

"Can you just look in my head? I don't really wanna explain it, but I want you to know." You asked, glad to share you past with another friend.

Wanda nodded, seemingly doing nothing until realization dawned on her.

"Oh shit." She whispered, not even realizing she said it out loud.

"Yeah." You huffed out a dry laugh.

"Y/N... I'm so sorry." You smiled at her, having worked through most of the trauma already. "You totally have a crush on Barnes though."

That earned a real laugh. "Hey, that's not what you were in there for!"

"It's not my fault! You were thinking it really loudly!"

The three of you laughed together until you sunk back into a pit of despair.

"What do I do? How do I fix this?" You whined, laying back on the ground like a child.

"I think you just need to talk to him. Explain what you meant." Wanda shrugged, unsure of any other advice to offer you.

"She's right. Just talk to him." Nat nodded along as you whined on the floor.

-

After a few days, you finally worked up enough courage to try and talk to Bucky. He had just finished training, so you knew exactly where he'd be: in the kitchen.

Walking in, you were glad to see him pulling ingredients from the fridge.

"Hey Bucky, can I, um, talk to you for a minute?" You stuttered through the words, nervous about what he would say.

He barely looked at you, nodding his head for you to continue.

"I just, I wanted to apologize." You trailed off when his head snapped up.

"For what?" Well shit. How are you supposed to explain this one without ratting out Wanda.

"Oh, well, um... I just thought maybe I said- I did something that upset you. Uh, you just don't seem to like me very much, which is totally cool, you don't have to like me if you don't want to. I just didn't want it to be my fault... Fuck." That went horribly. Taking a deep breath, you started over. "I didn't mean it."

Bucky is looking at you like you have three heads. "Didn't mean what?"

"That I don't like violence."

"So you do... like violence." He'd somehow grown more confused.

"Well, no." You paused, unsure of how to explain yourself.

"Then you did mean it." His soul piercing stare is back.

"I-"

"It's fine, save it. Some people get to choose not to be violent." And with that, he left the kitchen, abandoning his post workout smoothie.

You stared at the doorway, in shock over how poorly that went. You stood there , unaware of the 25 minutes that had passed, trying to figure out how it could've gone better when Steve found you.

"Y/N? What are you doing?"

You didn't hear him, too lost in the memories. Memories of Hydra, forcing you to do things you never wanted to. This happened from time to time if something triggered you into remembering, otherwise you had a handle on your emotions.

"Y/N?" Steve said your name again, concern evident in his voice. He gently laid a hand on your shoulder, trying to get your attention.

Everything happened so fast after that. The feeling of someone's hand on your shoulder caused you to panic. With all the memories of Hydra in your head, your training kicked in instinctually.

You grabbed Steve's arm, pulling him closer to you for better leverage. Before he could question your moves, you flipped him, pinning him to the ground.

The second you made eye contact, you realized what just happened. Horror and regret flashed in your eyes.

In an effort to get off him, you threw yourself backward, knocking into a cart full of pots and pans. The clanging of metal hitting the ground echoed through the small room.

Steve sat up slowly, trying to register the turn of events. You sat in a ball on the floor, tears pooling in your eyes, mumbling apologies over and over again.

Sam, having heard the commotion from the pots and pans, ran into the kitchen ready to fight.

"What- What happened?" He asked in confusion, lowering his arms from their defensive position.

"I don't know." Steve looked at you, still trying to figure it out.

"Y/N?" Sam's voice was gentle, but it still startled you.

You jumped from the ground, rushing to help Steve get up. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to. I never wanted to hurt anyone again." Your breathing was picking up, short bursts of air leaving your lungs. Your hands were shaking as you pulled him from the ground.

Your panic increased as you took in their concerned expressions.

"Hey, look at me." Steve's Captain voice, came out, urging you to make eye contact. You followed orders, breathing rapidly, your whole body shaking.

"I'm going to touch you now, is that okay?" His words were gentle, but commanding, causing you to nod in response.

He pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You wanted to explain, to tell them what happened, but all that came out was a pitiful "Bucky".

"Do you want me to get Bucky?" Sam asked, trying to understand you.

The idea of Bucky coming back caused your panic to increase. You shook your head rapidly, "No! No no no no no." You kept repeating the word, shaking in Steve's arms.

"Okay! Okay, no Bucky." Sam reassured you, voice calm and soothing.

You’re not sure how long you stood like that. Sam moved around the kitchen, cleaning up the pots and pans you had knocked over.

When your breathing steadied, Steve asked, "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

You nodded, leading the two men to the couch in the adjacent common area. You sat for a minute, unsure of where to start.

"Why don't you just lead us through it all?" Steve suggested, still rubbing your back.

You nodded, grateful for the starting point. "I went to the kitchen to apologize to Bucky."

"What for?" Sam interrupted, already confused.

"Sam! Just let her talk." Steve muttered, slightly annoyed.

"Sorry!" He glared back at Steve before turning to you, "Sorry, please continue."

You couldn't help but laugh at their banter.

"Right, I wanted to apologize for what I said the first day I met you all. I realized how it sounded, so I wanted to try and fix it." You paused, waiting for the recognition to hit them.

It didn't take long. The two men nodded, silently urging you to continue.

"Honestly, Wanda told me that was why he always seems mad at me. You have to know, I never meant for it to come across that way! It's more of a personal, 'I don't want to be violent' than shunning others for doing what's necessary." You took a deep breath, not eager to relive the conversation.

"Anyway, I told him I didn't mean it. I just couldn't explain it right, and he got upset, which makes sense!" You turned to look between them, not wanting them to think you were insulting Bucky in any way. "I don't hold what he did against him. It wasn't his choice, and I completely understand that. I just couldn't put that into words when I was talking to him, and I made everything worse."

Tears popped into your eyes again, upset at what he must be going through. You weren't with Hydra for but a tenth of the time he was, and you didn't endure the same level of brainwashing.

"He said something about some people not being able to choose not to be violent, and then he left. I don't know how long I was standing in the kitchen replaying the conversation, but it brought up bad memories for me." You sighed again, working up the nerve to tell them everything.

"Wanda and Nat already know, but I guess it's your guys's turn. This was so much easier to just have Wanda read my mind." You laughed at your own joke, the two men sharing a concerned look.

"I was taken... by Hydra. They experimented on me, gave me enhanced senses, trained me to fight, and punished me when I did something wrong." Again, tears sprung into your eyes, occasionally falling down your cheeks.

"Why wasn't this in your file?" Steve questioned, more to himself than you.

"I haven't got a clue. I guess nobody knew about me? But, I escaped. They didn't brainwash me like they did Bucky, because I don't have the serum. Or, at least, I think that's why." You shook your head, refocusing on the important parts.

"When every available Hydra agent was tasked with searching for the Winter Soldier, I took it as on opportunity. Their resources were spread thin. I was able to getaway."

You went onto explain your reasoning for joining the Avengers as a tech specialist, trying to convey the same earnestness you did with Nat.

"You can ask Nat or Wanda too. Nat found out day one, Wanda a few days ago." You wiped your tears, hoping they believed you. "Actually, Peter knows too."

"I was stuck in all those memories when you came into the kitchen. I didn't even register that you were in the room, so when you touched me I freaked out. I never meant to hurt you!"

You looked at Steve fearful that he would be upset.

"Y/N, I believe you." You cried tears of relief at his statement, genuinely exhausted from the day. "It's not your fault, and you didn't hurt me. Just caught me off guard. You're surprisingly agile when you want to be." He tried to lighten the mood, glad to hear you laugh.

"Well, I train in the middle of the night sometimes. I- I want to be able to get out if I'm ever forced back there." Your voice was quiet, admitting a secret you hadn't even told Nat.

"We won't let that happen." The sternness of Sam's voice surprised you.

"Thank you." You wiped your tears a final time, looking between the two men. "Now, what do I do about Bucky?" You refocused your energy on fixing your relationship with the super soldier.

"He never would have said what he said if he had known." Steve started the conversation, defending his friend.

"I know. I don't hold it against him, I just wish I could explain. I get so nervous when he looks at me like that." You rambled, too tired to filter your thoughts.

"Like what?" Sam asked, eager for more information to tease Bucky with.

"Huh? Oh, I don't know. Like he can see into my soul." You deadpanned, earning a laugh from both men. "I just want him to like me." You nearly whined, upset by your poor relationship.

"Like you, huh?" Steve grinned. Nat and Wanda chose that exact moment to walk into the room, eagerly joining the conversation.

"Barnes? Did you tell him how you feel?" Wanda squealed with excitement.

You buried your head in your hands, avoiding the knowing looks the four of them were surely sharing. "Not exactly." You gestured to your head, hoping Wanda would figure it out and share with Nat.

"Ooh... It didn't go well, basically Barnes got upset, Y/N flipped Steve and had a panic attack, then told these two everything." Wanda explained to Nat quickly, trying not to make you relive it.

"We need a plan." Nat declared.

"No, I just need to learn how to have a conversation with the man." You rolled your eyes at yourself. "I'll try talking to him again." You went to leave the room, turning around to glare at them. "And none of you can say a word of this to Bucky."

-

Despite you request, Steve still tried to talk to Bucky.

"What's up with you?" Steve questioned, trying to subtly pry into Bucky's thoughts.

"Nothing. Why?" Bucky answered in a questioning tone, trying to figure out Steve's motives.

"I heard you talked to Y/N is all. How'd it go?" He gave up on the subtle approach pretty quickly, knowing Bucky wouldn't answer a question that wasn't asked.

"How did you even hear that, punk?" Bucky deflected.

"Not the point. Answer the question."

"Not great. I messed it up." Bucky sighed, annoyed at himself for barging out of the room. "She said wanted to apologize, that she didn't mean what she said." He ran his hands through his hair, struggling to explain where it all went wrong.

"Would've been fine if I could follow what she was saying. She was rambling about me not liking her, which you and I both know isn't true. Ugh, i've never been mad at her. I'm mad at myself! At Hydra for making me a monster! How could she ever like me if she doesn't like violence? My entire past is violent." He huffed, having worked himself up again.

"You're not a monster, Buck." Steve started gently.

"I know you think that." Steve gave him a pointed glare. "I know, okay? But what does she think?"

"Maybe you should try talking to her. You might be surprised by what you learn." Steve clapped him on the shoulder, trying to reassure him, before leaving the room.

-

Everytime you tried to talk to Bucky, something got in the way. The first time, he was called in for an emergency mission before you even got the word hello out.

The second time, Tony walked into the common area, completely oblivious to the tension, and put on a movie.

The third time, Steve and Nat interrupted you. You were just about to apologize again after an awkward greeting when the elevator doors opened. The sounds of the cheerful laughter and stolen kisses didn't really set the mood for confessing your past with Hydra.

The fourth, and final time, was the most embarrassing.

You walked into the room on a mission. You were going to talk to him, no matter who decided to walk in.

"Bucky, I really need to-" and you tripped on a toy Morgan left out, causing you to tumble to the ground. That would have been embarrassing enough, but there's more.

In your effort to get up, you tripped again, hitting your head on the coffee table, causing you to bleed profusely.

"Shit." You cursed yourself, holding your hand up to your bleeding forehead.

"Are you okay?" Bucky rushed to you from the other side of the table, concerned with the amount of blood spewing from your head.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Unfortunately, you chose that moment to jokingly reference your past.

Some of the people who tortured you had a sick sense of humor. Whenever they would hit you hard enough to make you bleed, they said something about only having one head. A play on words because of the greek serpent with multiple heads.

"Head wounds bleed a lot, I'm lucky I only have one." You froze instantly, unsure if he would have had a similar experience. Slowly, you looked up in an effort to make eye contact.

Bucky was also frozen in place. Clearly he understood the reference.

"Wh- where did you hear that?" Bucky struggled with his sentence, trying not to flashback to his time at Hydra.

"Oh my god. I'm so so sorry." You instantly started apologizing, trying to backtrack. "I really need to learn when to stop fucking talking." You said more to yourself than him.

"Where did you hear it?" He asked again, putting more power behind his words.

"Um, well, i've been trying to tell you for weeks now, but um, I also kind of, have, um, well, you see-"

"Just spit it out." There was the slightly miffed Bucky you were used to.

"I was taken. By Hydra. 9 years ago. Um, they forced me to learn how to fight. Tortured me if I did anything wrong. Forced me to do things..." You trailed off, realizing you didn't need to give him many details. He has first hand experience.

"Y/N, I-" You cut him off before he could say anything else.

"That's why I don't like using violence. I only know how to do that stuff because they made me learn it. I didn't want to use the skills they gave me." You took a deep, grounding breath.

"I don't blame you for anything you were forced to do. It wasn't your choice. You're not a violent person, and your past actions don't define who you are. You're here to help people. That's what you chose. That's who you are."

You made eye contact before you continued. "I've actually wanted to thank you for the longest time."

"For what?" He was incredulous, wildly caught off guard by everything you've said.

"The only reason I had an opportunity to escape was because 2 years ago, you escaped. If Hydra's resources hadn't been spread so thin trying to find you, I probably would've never got out. So thank you. For being strong enough to fight back."

You smiled at him, still unsure of how he was feeling.

"I... I'm so sorry." To say you were stunned was an understatement. What the hell could he have to be sorry about? Sure he was a little rude, but from your point of view he was completely justified in hating you.

"Bucky, you have no reason to be sorry. You didn't know, and I couldn't get out of my head enough to tell you. You just make me nervous." You clapped a hand over your mouth, shocked at having said what you just said.

You could see his face fall ever so slightly, causing you to jump back into your explanation.

"Not because I'm scared of you or anything! Hell, I could probably take you in a fight." You winked, trying to lighten the mood. It seemed to work, judging by the slight smirk on his face.

"I just, I've looked up to you for so long. Your determination to do good after everything you've been through is really inspiring. It's actually why I wanted to join the Avengers in the first place. I never would have-" You would have kept rambling if he hadn't stopped you.

"Y/N, I am sorry, and I do have reason to be. There's no excuse for what I said to you in the kitchen that day. Even if I didn't know, I threw everything you've been through back in your face. If someone had done that to me, I probably would have had a panic attack." He tried joking, but by the way you froze he could tell he struck a nerve.

"You had a panic attack? I'm so sorry! God, I just left you all alone and-"

It was your turn to cut him off. "Actually, I was kind of frozen in place until Steve touched me and I maybe threw him to the ground... Then I had a panic attack..." You smiled, trying to convey the joke. "So, I wasn't alone. Sam was actually also there. If anything, it made me better friends with both of them because I told them everything. So I have you to thank for that to." You playfully nudged his side.

He ran his hands through his hair, then down his face, clearly trying to deal with his own guilt.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up about it. You didn't know. It happened. We're good now, so we can move on." You smiled, trying to cheer him up.

"How are you so relaxed about all of this? You were tortured for years... I..." He was genuinely curious, trying to find a way to cope with his own pain.

"Well, even before that I always thought therapy could be helpful for me, so I really jumped in full force when I was free. Plus, if you can't joke about something, you haven't really moved on. Some days are harder than others, but I just try to appreciate the people I have now and the good experiences I've been lead to." You kept the tone light, trying not to get too emotional.

He just stared at you for a few minutes, making you questions everything.

"I mean, it's totally different for you though! I was only there for 7 years, you were forced into all that for like 10 times as long. I didn't mean to belittle-"

"I think you inspire me just as much as you say I've inspired you." He cut you off again, a small smile growing on your lips.

"Well, in the spirit of our newfound friendship, can I be totally honest?" You bit your lip, nervous about telling him the truth.

He looked nervous as well, but nodded anyway.

"I kind of, maybe, sort of have a crush on you." You watched his expression carefully, although there was really no need. His face easily gave away his surprise.

"You..." He stuttered, moving his fingers between the two of you. "Me? But, I was so mean!"

"What can I say, I saw through the facade... Well, really Wanda accidentally read your mind and told me why you were so upset around me when her and Nat teamed up to get me to tell you how I feel." You rambled again, realization dawning that you accidentally outed Wanda.

"But you can't tell her I told you that! She didn't mean to! She just said you think really loud sometimes and it's hard not to hear it! She did it to me too actually, I mean I told her she could look in my head so I wouldn't have to explain everything again, I know so lazy, and that's how she confirmed my crush on you." You said it all with wide eyes at a rapid speed, unable to control yourself around Bucky.

You slapped your hands over your mouth, forcing yourself to stop talking. Bucky looked on in amusement, slowly reaching to pull your hands away from your face.

"I won't tell her, if you get dinner with me tonight." He smiled cheekily, relishing in your blush.

"That's a deal I'm willing to make." You reached your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek before running to get ready.

***

Bonus:

Sam whined playfully as he looked at the high scores. "Whose username is 'God is a spoon' and how did they get so good at this game?"

He looked around the room, eying any suspicious candidates. Everyone denied it, throwing out accusations left and right.

It was another of Tony's team bonding nights and he chose VR games on the oculus. Obviously, Beat Saber was a top contender amongst the group.

You walked in with Bucky, unaware of the conversation going on, but immediately joining it.

"Peter! I bet it was him!" You playfully nudged the younger Avenger, having formed a close friendship in the early days. "What am I betting on?" Everyone laughed, happy to see you in a good mood after being so stressed for so long.

"Whose username is 'God is a spoon'." Sam chuckled after filling you in. You and Bucky settled on the couch, cuddling next to each other.

"Oh, that's me. Why?" You looked around curiously, trying to figure out what they wanted. "Is it a weird username? It was actually one of the catchphrase things in Just Dance on the switch, I didn't just think of it." You tried to justify yourself, causing more laughter.

"You?! How did you get all the highscores on this game? I thought you were the clumsy one."

You made an exaggerated face to show how offended you were, playfully swatting at Sam.

"I'll have you know, 7 years of Hydra 'training' and experimentation has its perks." You joked with the room. "One of them being I can beat your ass at pretty much any video game."

"Oh, you're so on." Sam smiled, glad he could joke around with you about it.

Meanwhile, Tony looked incredulously around the room, being the only one in the room who hadn't heard about your history, he was rightfully confused.

"I'm sorry, 7 years of WHAT?"

[silverbladexyz]

Congrats on 100 followers!!

Can I request a match up??

Name: Trinity

Pronouns: mostly they/them

Personality type: INFP

Star sign: Leo

I normally get on well with people who are kind and have a tolerance for others. I can't stand people who are rude or have disrespect.

Hobbies: reading, writing, listening to music, baking and I love dressing up fancy for no reason udbdur

Faun facts: I had ADHD, I really enjoy classic lit, I'm studying Health and Social Care and English literature. My favourite book rn is The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald and The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky

As much as I love Poe, I'm.always matched up w him so not him please dudjdu and not Mori or Fukuchi

HIIIIIIII TRINITY!!!! TYYYY 🤧🤧🤧 and I hope you like your platonic matchups!!! Sorry if I didn’t do it well!

The images used are not mine. They belong to their original owners.

Calculating...

Your sibling figure is... HIGUCHI ICHIYO!!!

-Higuchi does have some experience with being someone’s sibling. After all, she does have a younger sister whom she would sacrifice anything to keep her happy

-She is glad to have someone whom she can confide in and trust. I don’t think Higuchi has that close of a relationship with her Port Mafia colleagues, and her little sister is too young to know most of the stuff that Higuchi has to deal with. However, she will tone it down for you if you wanted

-Higuchi would be serious most of the times, but it is mostly for her job. When she’s not in the Port Mafia and is spending quality time with you, her serious personality falls and she acts like any normal sister would. You two would either be chatting and laughing amicably, or just sitting in comfortable silence at the end of a tiring day

-Higuchi will be respectful of your boundaries. She knows how much little privacies mean to her, so she won’t push you to tell her everything, but if you’re willing to share some tea, she’s down for it

-BAKE WITH HER. I headcanon that Higuchi is actually a great chef if she had the time and resources, and she learns pretty quickly too, so teach her a few simple tricks and she would be whipping up the best cookies and macarons you have ever seen in all of Yokohama. However, she enjoys baking with you more, as she does like having someone to talk to

-Music? Higuchi is down for any type of music, but due to her job she doesn’t have much time to listen to it. So in your free time, you two would listen to your playlist on Spotify while sitting in comfortable silence <3

-I feel like Higuchi would also like reading, since her real life counterpart was a bookworm. So drop her some classic lit recommendations, and she’ll come back to you a few days later ready to talk about and discuss the books with you. Sometimes there’ll even be a friendly competition on who could read the books the quickest lol

-If you are feeling down or upset because someone made you that way, Higuchi will try her best to comfort you, but really her sort of comforting is ‘get revenge on the one which made you sad’. She will stop if you ask her to, but it doesn’t stop her from ordering her subordinates to teach that person a lesson

-However, if you are insecure, Higuchi will offer you a hug while letting you sort out your thoughts in silence. She will do anything to make you feel happy and comfortable, and she wants to help in any way possible

-Also, give her some fancy clothes and dress up with her!!! Higuchi doesn’t know this, but she’s actually really pretty (have you seen some of her Mayoi cards? She looks so nice hddfjjssdh) Just give her a fancy but simple black dress, put some decorations in her hair, let her hair down, and you have yourself a stunning Higuchi that can woo all the people of Yokohama. SHE LOOKS FINE ASF WHEN SHE DRESSES UP SO PLEASE GIVE HER SOME FANCY CLOTHES

-As we know, Higuchi will go to lengths for the people that she cares about, and you’re no exception <333

-Overall, Higuchi tries her best to be a great sister figure to you. Please give her more platonic love, she needs it <3

And your parent figure is... ODA SAKUNOSUKE!!!

-Hands down, he’s the best Dad

-You like reading and writing, he likes reading and writing... boom, you’re adopted now <3

-Jk, but you two would have a great parent-child relationship

-Oda will always listen to you, and he will try his best to help you if you needed his help. Even if it was the most trivial matter, Oda will still try to assist you

-Speaking of reading and writing, you both recommend each other books and you both read each others’ writing. Oda is great at giving feedback, even when sometimes he is a little blunt, but his feedback always helps to improve your writing

-I reckon Oda would be open to trying out new things with you. If you teach him how to bake, he will pay very close attention and follow each of the steps methodically, and his end products are so good that the children always eat them up in a few seconds lol. Don’t worry, he always saves some for you <3

-Oda probably doesn’t listen to much music, but give him some song recommendations and he’ll immediately listen to them. Bonus points if you create a playlist for him, because he will be listening to it whenever he has time and it helps him to focus

-If you like children, Oda would ask you to look after the children once in a while. Don’t worry if you’re not good with kids, because his kids are well-behaved (well... most of the time) The kids look up to you as an older sibling figure, and you’re part of their family now too <33

-If you feel sad, anxious, depressed, etc. don’t be afraid to go to Oda. He will never spill your secrets, and he is great at comforting you! Oda also gives very good advice, and he’s probably better than a personal therapist lol. You can tell him everything and rest assured, he’ll take your secrets to his grave. However, he wouldn’t mind giving you a hug and just letting you know that he’s there for you

-He will also cook you your comfort food!!! Just imagine him in a pink apron, skilfully cooking something that you liked while also pouring a cup of your favourite drink for you. His cooking is better than any food you can order in a restaurant 😋

-Overall, Oda will be the best dad to you, and I promise you that you cannot get anybody better to be your parent figure

Last but not least, your mentor is... PAUL VERLAINE!!!

-Congrats on getting the biggest red flag in BSD to be your mentor lolz /j

-Verlaine is strict. He expects you to do your best, and he is literally like ‘effort comes first, results come second’

-Which meansss that you barely have a moment to rest, since Verlaine would be constantly training you. Not only because he wants you to have adequate skills to be able to complete a mission, he also feels proud when you grow into a stronger person under his tutelage

-He will tone it down a little if he sees that you couldn’t really handle the things that he teaches you. Verlaine doesn’t want you to stress out, and stressing out on a mission would be the last thing you want

-Nowww let’s see. You would mostly be learning assassination skills from him, but in the rare moments where he finally decides to give you a break, you two would normally sit in comfortable silence; you reading a book, him writing a poem

-As you become a better and better assassin, it was nearly time you said goodbye, but did you want to? No! So you told the Boss that you wanted to keep training under Verlaine, under the reason that you wanted to be sent onto international large-scale missions as well. Fortunately, Mori accepted your request

-I feel like Verlaine would definitely teach you French and/or other languages, since you would be going on international missions, having a couple of languages under your belt would be pretty useful

-Verlaine is pretty patient while teaching you. He has this way of teaching that is the quickest and most efficient, but he wasn’t the King of Assassins for nothing. He trains you up even more for your missions now, but he does give you more breaks, and even advice on anything that you ask!

-^One time you had to attend a fancy ball for a mission, but you didn’t know what to wear. Fortunately, Verlaine was able to whip out an outfit for you that not only looked stunning, but was also easy to move in. So the next time you’re in this dilemma, ask him to help because his clothing taste is immaculate

-If you mess up and/or make a mistake, I feel like Verlaine would be a bit serious while reproaching you, but afterwards he’ll gently teach you how to prevent that mistake again. He is kind of intimidating though, but he does it so that you can learn. Afterwards, he would say ‘good job’ and basically encourage and compliment you

-Despite all of his strictness, Verlaine cares about you! He may not show it directly, but it’s in the little acts that he does, like teaching you a footwork that is less likely to injure you, giving you longer breaks etc.

-He isn’t that used to platonic affection though... so when you literally showed up at his door with some freshly baked macarons to thank him for being your mentor, he just kind of froze and was quite confused, but he handled it pretty well. Verlaine secretly loves your baking, but wouldn’t ask you on how to do it... please teach him <3

-Overall, Verlaine is a strict but good mentor. And you should know that once he cares for someone, he cares deeply

@the-mourning-stars

[studiojeon]

troubled outsiders | intro - jjk

| summary | -  how you two end up pining for each other.

warnings: none :) 

content: idol!jungkook x student!oc, friends to lovers (because it’s THE superior trope okurrrt), jungkook is quiet and shy but a social butterfly when needed (and when it comes to oc but you’re not supposed to know that yet), oc is both a badass and a socially akward queen, she has TWO friends and only because one is dating the other (like... same), the Lee Charyeong is her bestie, oc works at bighit and feels like everyone either fears her or hates her, author nim is a crackhead and has no plot planned for this series whatsoever (doesn’t know if she’ll keep this up, we’ll see).

words: 1.93 k

His presence was overwhelming, to say the least. Even if he were surrounded by six hundred other equally handsome men, somehow, to you (and the majority of the female population, at that point) he was as captivating and magnetic as they come. Jeon Jungkook didn't pay no mind to no one, but sure as hell everyone became hyper aware of his existence and essence in time. And that didn’t exclude you.

Yet, as nonchalant and indifferent as the man could be perceived, in reality he was more considerate and friendly than the aura he exuded. You knew this because working in the same company had to teach a thing or two about the people who literally carried said company and the whole industry at some point, still you barely knew four or three people, including your assistant and Jungkook, whom you had met once.

The opportunity of working at the company had come to you out of the blue, quite literally, you were attempting to send one of your assignments in when an email appeared in your notifications during your sailor moon study break. 

HYBE Entertainment

We’re glad to inform you that you’re being recruited for the position of Logistics Manager in one of our sub companies, BIGHIT Entertainment. We’ve thoroughly looked through the CV you’ve submitted and are very interested in your capabilities and what you can contribute to our organization. One of our other managers will gladly meet you on a day you can both agree on. Make sure to answer this email to get more details about your interview.

“Nani!? THE FUCK?” sure as hell that your eyes and cognitive functions were deceiving you (ADHD) you went over the text a little over three times in a row before the message settled in your mind. This was sus. 

Before even considering a reply you made a quick call. “Fucking Lee Chaeryeong” you spat on your end of the line. “You did this, didn’t you?”.

Her silence was more than enough to have you cursing her under your breath. “I don’t know what exactly you’re talking about but it most likely was me. Does it have to do with a sex toy in particular?”

“No” you denied almost monotonously, guessing the pile of boxes in the corner of your room with her names on them was what she referred to. “Does anything come to mind if i mention BIGHIT FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT?”

It was her. All those conversations during the summer about how badly you wanted to work in the entertainment business as marketing staff of some sort had their effect on your friend, who, despite all your excuses and denials, knew you better than you and your mom combined did, and because of this, was sure as hell you were not making a move towards that goal whatsoever. So, being the boss bitch she was, she took matters into her own hands, was what she explained.

You concluded that was the reason you had reached a point in your life where you had more experience than most recently graduated kids in your field, because Chaeryeong had you moving every summer break. You had been the manager of a coffee franchise and convenience store during you junior and senior years, and also figured a way to improve the marketing management strategy of a fucking restaurant while at it. Not to toot your own horn, but you were kind of cool.

Or not. “I hope this job satisfies your workaholic ass for once, I’m running out of ideas”. Chaeryeong spat before hanging up.

Sure as hell it would. 

On friday afternoon, you made your way to the HYBE INSIGHT building and introduced yourself to your recruiters who promised to give you a call at some point. “It went fine” you told Chaeryeong once you were in your car. And it was the truth, however you weren’t so sure if they would actually hire you at some point since well, you were a girl in a male dominated industry and, in your opinion, there were always better people than you. “Wanna go grab coffee?”

“I want to. But, I have practice today. I’m actually on my way there. Please avoid driving through Hongdae today, this shit’s packed.” You sighed and thanked her for the heads up. You missed your friend, badly. You hadn’t seen each other in three weeks, and you didn’t even live so far away from each other (you did, but it had been worse before). You two had very agitated lives to say the least. Chaeryeong was a kpop group member, and well, you were jumping from job to job and getting your phD in Business Management at the same time. It was hard to find moments to spare together during some periods of the year, but you guess the anticipation made your encounters better.

“Talk about anticipation” you slammed your forehead against your desk, taking a breather after such an anxiety packed situation. Short story: you got the job (for some fucking reason). And you had gone through a whole week of expectancy and anguish. Not getting that job would have broken your heart, and ego at the same time. 

You guessed the law of attraction tactics Chaeryeong had taught you had sorted their effect and were what led you to your current position in life.

“Miss _____, your presentation’s ready” your work assistant gave you a comforting pat in the back as she took a seat somewhere next to you. You were nervous, shitless. It was your fifth week at the job, and being the proactive woman you were, you had collected lots of data in order to come up with a resources management plan.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and more than a hundred people sat in front of you, waiting for your speech. Including him, who you’d once bumped into accidentally during one of your data recollections runs inside the building. 

You hated having the need to impress others yet, hence your anxious behaviour. But this was a decisive moment in regards to your validation in your new job and how you’d continue to be perceived during your work stance (no reason to panic at all)… you needed to get it together.

“I think I just pissed off a bunch of old men right now,” you told your assistant right after you got off stage. “I need a bathroom break”. Linh gave you a reassuring smile, one she always had plastered on her face.

“Take as long as you need to. I’ll give you a call once the rest are done”.

The commute to the bathroom was unnecessarily complicated in your opinion. You had spent a little over a month rushing through the hallways of the building and you swore every single day your spatial orientation got a bit more fucked up. There was no way there wasn’t a single bathroom on the floor you were in, that would just be atrocious. “It’s not completed yet” someone said beside you as you stared at the half empty map the company had projected on a wall next to the elevators. “Where do you need to go?” 

Kim Taehyung of all people in the world was talking to your ugly and unworthy ass. Your breath caught in your throat and after staring for at least five seconds your body finally reacted to your orders. “Oh, um… the bathroom. I’ve been looking for it for a good ten minutes” you explained with a nervous laugh.

“Trust me, I get it. I still get lost over here” he smiled gently. “It’s in the hallway in the middle of the next hallway” 

You laughed at his very ambiguous explanation. “Thank you” you bowed your head and made your way to said destination.

It was in the hallway to your left, not your right, and it took you a while to figure out that new piece of information. Once you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you realized that you looked considerably tired and exhausted from all the social interaction you had undergone throughout the day. You were used to the side stares and whispering you’d get whenever you entered a room at that point, but some days you just wished you could get a break from them. After all, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look Korean at all, and that you also didn’t fit the stereotype of a foreigner.

You got that from your mom, both the non Korean features and social fatigue. But that wasn’t even the problem most of the time, it was your friendly and smart nature which she had also passed onto you. Some would consider it a blessing, but to you it was a burden, like a clear glass that shielded you from introducing yourself into other people’s realities. You had few friends and people to trust, but in your everyday life you had to deal with the pressure of standing out too much and that came with a lot of negative energy from others. You sigh as you spray your favorite fragrance on yourself. You could be feeling like shit, but no one will ever catch you slipping.

But that excluded him apparently. You hadn’t noticed that on the other side of the hallway was the men’s bathroom and the realization hit you as you were calmly getting some tea from the vending machine. “Good afternoon” the man greeted you as he made his way out the hallway, but stopped in his tracks right after he noticed you. “_____! Hi” he smiled at you and you wanted to die, suddenly forgetting what you were ordering in the first place.

“H-hi Jungkook” You smiled back, poorly attempting to put your wallet back into your backpack. 

“Need help there?” he noticed your agitated state and held your bag for you. He smelled just as heavenly as you had expected, somewhat between big dick energy and flowers. Oh, and he also remained as kind and polite as you remembered him.

Seeming as if he wasn’t planning on continuing his path to wherever he was heading to in the first place, he stood quietly by your side, waiting for you to be done with your deal. “How have you been?” you break the ice for him.

Quickly, you grab your tea and start walking back to the auditorium together, unaware of your surroundings or the suspicions that could arise. “Busy, but very good. How have you been? I saw your presentation earlier… I wish I understood half of what you said but you still sounded amazing”.

And you would never admit it out loud, but you were positive you were blushing (and falling in love too - platonically, of course). “Oh god, you think so? I basically told them they’ve been doing things wrong all along so maybe you’re the only one who’s appreciative of my work” you handed him the second can of iced tea you bought without him noticing. You swear his eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. “Payback for the other day” you smile at him.

The first time you two had crossed paths you didn’t look nearly as glamorous as you did now. In fact, you looked incredibly disturbed and in pain, carrying a huge pile of paperwork in your hands. But as soon as sweet Jungkook noticed your state, he offered you a hand and somehow ended up helping through your multiple data collecting trips that afternoon. It was a nice day.

“Anytime” he took the can in his hands with a shy look on his face. “Unless I’m practicing, you know…” you look down at his feet, with huge black boots engulfing them, and you smile due to their contrast with his personality. “Here, i’ll give you my number so you can call me whenever you need to put all those papers back. Hopefully I’ll be around” he added as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Way to get a girl’s number, my god.

[lunavadash-creates]

How would Jacob realize that he’s in love with Reader?

Hello Nonnie! Thank you for your patience I finally have time to go back to writing! Here are some hc for you, I hope you'll like them! I had so much fun writing them!

Jacob:

It’d actually be pretty cute!

He saw you hanging out with one of his Rooks - maybe it’s your brother, maybe it’s your cousin or a friend. Immediately he found you attractive and just in his type

He decided to learn about who you are. It’s nothing suspicious, after all, he is the leader, he needs to know all the unfamiliar faces that appear in his gang, right?

He accepted the explanation of who you are and let you hang out around as long as you wouldn’t get involved or cause trouble neither for him nor his Rooks

You, of course, accepted the deal, promising to behave

Soon Jacob realised that while hanging out with his Rooks he was looking for you in the crowd

If you weren’t there, he would let out a sigh and carry on with his evening

But if you WERE there?

Oh lord

He would buy you a drink

Invite you to his table

Ask you casual questions about why are you hanging out here, what do you think about his gang etc

HE WOULD TRY TO IMPRESS YOU SO HARD

He would literally bet with anyone about anything as long as it makes you look at him

Shooting while drunk? Check. Stealing a carriage? Check. Drunk Parkour? Check.

If he saw you outside of a pub he would still try to impress you. Be loud only to catch your attention, he would even go as far as doing some risky shit

Also, he would try to make you smile and if he learnt you are in a tough situation (lack of money, lack of place to stay, health issues, terrible job, a bully taking you as his/her target) he would do anything to help you. That would include buying expensive medicines for you, finding you a place to stay, finding you a job, even giving you a proposition to work for him. And if there is a person treating you badly he would visit them personally. After that, no one would bully you again

But! Despite doing everything above for you, he wouldn’t realise he was in love. Love in his life is something almost non-existential. Not because he doesn’t know how to love, but because no one really loved him in his life. His father was a dick, who wanted to train him. Evie and he always compete against each other and fight. There are times when they work together, talk or help each other, but you don’t see them hanging out or having fun together. They were raised together, they know each other's abilities so it’s safe for them to work together.

But love? Literally, the only person that actually loved Jacob with a capital L was his grandmother that raised Evie and him for the first few years of their lives. After Ethan appeared and took them back, all the love became just a distant memory

So he needed someone to make him realise he’s in love. Maybe it was a Rook, jokingly saying that the Boss is in love. Maybe it’s Ms Nightingale saying that she knows the look of a person in love. Maybe it’s Evie being angry that Jacob “wastes” resources only because he has a crush. Whoever was the one to enlighten him, he decided that he wants to carry this on

Confessing would be hard but he does his best. And one day he appears at your place. Maybe he has flowers, maybe a beer or a wine, maybe some sweets. He would take you somewhere, to show you London from the highest rooftop. And then he would confess that he cares for you.

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Fixed: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 4 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 3: Love So Soft

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s shorter than my usual updates but I’m busy so sorry for the delay. My final exam dates have come and all I can do is pray right now lol. Please pray for me if you can, this sis is out here writing fanfics for yall instead of studying so, haha. ANyways, enjoy babies! Shit happens in this chapter.

Warning: Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Word count: 5K

Chapter 4: Fixed

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. Your hands shook every time you got a flashback and even though you were numb to emotions that entire day, tears threatened to spill whenever your mind took to you to that overpriced kitchen again.

Now that he had gone to a dangerous and unnerved assaulter from a Dad trying to take care of his daughter, your mind wouldn’t put anything past him. You knew that in the back of your mind that he was a mobster and your ‘friendship’ was alarming to say the least, but now there was no denying his resources and power and the very obvious threat to your life lingering in the air.

At least before you had the luxury to be oblivious and ignorant, not anymore though. Steve felt even more unhinged and liberal now, even messaging you daily, greeting texts that you obviously ignored. He knew you both were aware that you never handed him your number and he felt no need to hide his pursuit.

You read most of the messages, not bothering with a single reply though. You tried to block him but somehow your phone would still receive messages from his number, even though his contact would always peek back at you from the otherwise empty blacklist.

As if his torment wasn’t ample, another message thread from a different number would forward you alarming images, photos of Grace in her daycare, on a class trip to the park and even her playing in your backyard. You had no doubt that this was another game of his to show you his resources.

You skipped daycare for a few days, your mental health worse than it was after the carnival attack, because now you had a personal tormentor and you cursed yourself for falling into this mess. At times, you believed it wasn’t your fault really, you just helped a kid and this situation spiraled itself but what would pointing fingers now get you? The harsh truth was you were in a calamitous situation now and every step from now on had to be thought out.

So, you let Grace attend her daycare and acted if nothing was amiss or altered, after the few initial breakdown days of course, kept going to your job and earning the bread. You considered your options, you really wanted to go to the cops or a higher fair power but those were few these days, almost non existent in your city. You also vaguely recalled meeting three of the Captains of the PD at Sarah’s birthday, all smiley and doe eyed for Steve. You knew they wouldn’t help, fucking kiss-asses.

Maybe you would have to move somewhere else, perhaps to your hometown, at least till things cooled down or better yet were forgotten? But that trail was very predictable and you didn’t want your parents in this mess.  

You also came to know that Steve had inserted himself in the other spheres of your life. You were sure your location was always being sent to him, the knowledge a courtesy of the black car following you while you travelled to home at some late day’s end.

Aiden told you whereabouts were easy to track, when you inquired ambiguously. Another instance was when you went to the bank to deposit cash for your debit card, you came face to face with an enormous amount already there. Somehow, the limit on your credit card was also extended. How, you knew. The clerk told you about an email you must have gotten in regards to it, you dismissed that justification away and told them to not accept the cash. To sum the discussion, they weren’t helpful and had no policy against anonymous donors.

Aiden, your trusted coworker cum pal, sensed the shift in your aura and fidgety form very easily, pestering you with questions and you decided to turn to him, stressed and tired and ready to do something. His questioning eyebrows made you confess vaguely but you refused to tell him the extent of it. Just that his prediction came true and you needed help. Let’s just say, Aiden was a good man.

With time, Steve’s ‘affectionate’ messages became deranged, and you found it harder to act nonchalant in your daily life. You were thankful he didn’t come to visit you, possibly occupied with the rumored war between the mobs. You just prayed for a few more days of ignorance, just enough time to think and do something.

“What do you mean someone collected her?!” You had a hard time controlling your voice, you were about to burst, in tears or with anger, you didn’t know.

“The man was verified in the emergency contacts and we got a letter signed and approved by you to skip the day an hour into the first activity.”

“A man? Emergen-, wait no! What fucking approved letter?”

You had three emergency contacts, your mom in another state, Aiden, and one of the other kid’s mom you had grown close to. Aiden was with you at work all day, so did someone disguise themselves as him? And what was the deal with the letter signed by you? You surely didn’t remember writing and authorizing one.

The boy, Pietro, who had been the receptionist for as long as you could remember, shuffled through the chaotic piles of paper and presented a letter to you, and your blood froze as your eyes skimmed the font.

Your beautiful cursive stared right back at you and you knew that no one would ever be able to distinguish between this penmanship and the one in the pocketbook in your clutch. No one but you. Even though you knew you had not written it, the slightly different ‘f’ and ‘g’ told you everything.

Your signature at the bottom though, was done quite perfectly and that made you even more scared.

“I did-, I didn’t write this! What the-” Your widened eyes met Pietro’s from above the paper but all he offered you was a meek smile. Your hands shook with rage and for the first time in your life, you had the urge to slap someone really bad.

“Maybe your family had an emergency to take he-”

“No, you don’t get it!” You stopped yourself from getting frantic, willing yourself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Today of all days, things had to mess up.

He didn’t know you had no family in this city, that you had a mobster after you or the subtle threats that his hired spy sent to you.

Was going to the police an option? Aiden already told you that the cops were as good as Steve’s men. But this was about your missing kid! You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. And you were giving Steve way too much credit, what if he wasn’t behind this all? Come to think of it, what if the other number wasn’t his?

Relax yourself! Thinking of disturbing theories wouldn’t help anyone. You thought you should go to the cops, just in case. No mentioning of Steve, just a woman with a ‘missing child’ report.

‘Missing Child’ left an acrid taste behind and you were too close to a breakdown, but your whole journey of single-parenthood taught you to kick vulnerability aside, well most of the times.

You turned and were about to leave, but Pietro stopped you. “If you are going to the cops Ma’am, they require 8 hours of inactivity or disappearance time for kids under 5.”

Well look who just read your mind.

You huffed and kept the tears at bay, your mind thinking of what to do then? Grace was obviously taken-

“How could you let a toddler leave without informing the parents?” You knew your anger was channeling out at the wrong man but didn’t he all but hand Grace to the stranger?

You beat him answering and inquired, “What did the man look like? Do you have any footage? Anything?” The wrinkles in your forehead and stress creases on your face paired with the eyebags betrayed your age surely. You were sure you had aged more this week than an entire decade, juggling your normal life with the hovering threat.

“You shouldn’t be this worried Ma’am.”

The fucking audacity.

“Your daughter recognized him, she all but ran to him and this other little girl he came with. You should maybe ask your parent-friends around? A blonde family perhaps?”

As all the emotions drained from your face and terror took over, the young lad in front of you looked smug. You wondered as if you imagined the faintest of smirks on his face.

You crumpled the letter in your hands, seething with rage as you stepped in your car. Oh, you were mad, more wrathful than ever. You could take any hits on you, any threat but not on Grace, never on her.

You were stupid, you had already decided you wouldn’t put anything past him but unknowingly, you did put this past him. You thought this man had a shred of decency to not use your kid in this adult war, being a parent himself and all but what a surprise! You were wrong.

You drove to your home, your thoughts a mix of trepidation, anxiety and fury. You were scared of him and his reach and resources but if he put Grace in any type of danger; whether to teach you a lesson or use her as bait or both, there’d be consequences.

Lord knows you killed a man a month ago Grace was threatened.

You had one thing to do before contacting Steve about Grace but you never got to do it because unexpectedly the bastard was in your home. In your home.

The black sports car outside was a huge giveaway but your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door with your house key. The banter and giggles from inside alarmed yet calmed you; the dread of confrontation and the assurance of Grace’s safety reigned your mind.

As the door opened painfully slow like a horror movie, the sight that met your eyes made you sick with a feeling of failure. It wasn’t gore or blood or grunge, it was Steve bouncing Grace in the air and catching her while Sarah twirled around in the living room.  

This man was craftier than you thought, every action of his was calculated, each a refined step. You had been so preoccupied to avoid direct encounters with him in your little family’s life that you didn’t think he had other ways. He was always looming around with Sarah and as Grace began to trust Sarah, she consequently began to trust her blonde guardian too.

As you slammed the door behind you, Steve’s eyes snapped to yours and his smirk made you want to punch him so hard. The smugness on his face while he let Grace down without breaking eye contact told you he had no regret, no remorse. In fact, he was loving every second of this cat and mouse chase between you two.

You were a millimeter close to losing your shit, the only check being the kids in the room. But you were mad and he was going to know it.

“What the hell, Steve? Messing with my kid?” You threw your clutch onto the couch, Steve haughty by the reception of his sent message but still holding back because of the kids. He called Wanda and you didn’t really notice where she came from but you did register Steve asking to take the girls to the park for a ‘private discussion’.

As Grace passed by you, you grabbed her arm lightly, making her look at you with doe eyes resembling yours. You gave her a smile trying to ease her, but you knew she was smart enough to sense the change in the atmosphere.

Apparently, the whining Sarah wasn’t.

You looked back to Steve, your hold still on Grace and continued with a frown and raised eyebrows, “She isn’t going anywhere, not out of my sight and obviously not with you or your goons.”

Wanda had the audacity to look offended and you scoffed at her, eyes staring Steve’s down.

“Honey, I don’t think the kids should hear what I think you have to say right now.” He said nodding to Wanda to take Grace.

“You must be deranged to think I trust Grace near anyone even remotely related to you! Take your people and get out.” You held your hand up to stop Wanda and pointed towards the door with the most menacing glare you could form.

Grace looked incomprehensibly between you two, concern and confusion on her face. That might have been the first time such a tone was used in your household. The grumbling Sarah was close to throwing a tantrum, irritated by the change in the playful air or the lack of attention to her, you didn’t know. She was hanging on Wanda’s forearm, her feet slipping on your printed rug. Wanda was trying to not look hurt still by your previous statement, distracting herself by the blonde kid and you were baffled by her obliviousness to all this.

Steve, the beefy blonde Lucifer, was furious and seething. His white knuckles and ticking jaw were the most obvious giveaways, the fingers just itching to beat the shit out of someone no doubt.

Was he imagining striking you into compliance into his weird playhouse game complex? You wouldn’t be surprised given the extent of his attempt to ‘win’ you over.

The ‘get out’ tone and blatant disrespect was a bruise to his ego for sure, and by you, a middle-class woman nonetheless was a worse injury. Steve was the deadly boss to armored men in the vicinity, the kids’ father figure, according to him, and Wanda’s stern yet kind employer.

People had been killed for less and there you were, standing in all your glory, being the only person alive to reject Steve Rogers and now, the only to raise your voice at him.

You almost scoffed at his impudence to look offended, what did he expect? For you to submit to him after the stunt he pulled? His reach was scary he proved today and that any future with him in your life in any way, was a fearsome possibility to entertain but you’d be damned if you went down without a fight.  

“You can’t make me leave; we both know. You don’t have the physical edge nor the mental one. I have no problem drawing out G-U-N-S in front of the kids or to throw the warnings around, although I would prefer not to.”

Your free hand itched to slap him, like how his did minutes ago. It wasn’t a mankind problem about men thinking they were entitled to everything; it was a Steve Rogers’s problem. Of course, with him consent didn’t matter. If he had a ‘housewife, kids and fences’ fixation, he’d make it come true.

“Do you even listen to what I say? Or your own words even? Please, go ahead! Traumatise my kid and also yours in your wooing process! Why are you so obsessed? Leave us alone, you freak! I just ignored few messages!” You had a hard time maintaining your cool, if there was any left. You were sure you were scaring Grace and no matter what happened next, you knew she was already traumatized by this entire ordeal already. You were so sorry, so, so, so sorry to your poor baby caught in this mess.

You knew, no, you hoped, he wouldn’t pull out the gun, his actions at the carnival a proof, you remembered how he hid his gun on finding Sarah. That threat was empty but the next one wasn’t, his words making you freeze in your spot.

“I think you keep on misunderstanding me, sweetheart. I don’t make empty promises,”

Posh word for threats.

“For starters, maybe I should pay my future in-laws a visit in their blue duplex. They might need help with the vast garden they have, it is the season for ‘violets’, isn’t it?”

As you froze with your parents being brought up, he also cooled, albeit differently, smirking once again gaining the upper hand, not that he lost it if you were being honest.

“Isn’t threatening my kid enough for you, Steve?” You hated how your loud voice almost broke, your anger slowly subsiding into helplessness and you hated that. You hated his guts, his entitlement, his claim; everything about him.

“You still don’t see it, do you? Our family of four is the most important thing to me right now and I’m not above doing anything to save it.”

“There is no family of four Steve! I keep explaining and you keep coming back to square one with all this bullshit!” The curse word did tick Steve off but he would correct that later, when bigger things weren’t at ploy.

“Your ignorance makes me a little mad sometimes sweetheart and that is why I have to do all I do. You haven’t realized we need each other yet, but I’m staying until you do and even after that, I promise. You know how much it pissed me off to see your tickets and the packed suitcases after I’ve been nothing but nice? I was so generous to spoil you with my riches but instead I find that in your finances.”

This fucker knew. Of course, he did!

You were wondering in the back of your head what had prompted this visit with so many threats and warnings and anguish. He was pissed even before you ‘acted out’, he tracked the tickets and the plan and that meant he even tracked-

“You have so much to learn, but luckily you interact with quite a few people. I am most tempted to start out with this Aiden guy, trying to be the hero and giving you all the ideas. Maybe I should visit him?” Steve wondered out loud, and you flinched at his suggestion, hating how you were trapped by this man.

You couldn’t live with yourself if anyone got hurt because of you, be it your parents or Aiden or any other possibility Steve would come up with. Of course, Grace was your peak priority but you doubted he would hurt her as he threatened to harm them.

“Steve, please.” The fire was almost out, your hands trembling, Grace worried and Steve smug.

“Let the kids go and I think we can come to a conclusion.”

“Steve this needs to stop.” You said, your breaths heavy and helplessness clawing away at you.

“I won’t repeat myself.” He voiced out with a threatening edge, gesturing to Grace and Wanda, clearly telling you to first get the kids out.

For a deranged fucktard, he sure cared about the kids a lot.

You loosened your hold on Grace, patting her arm softly and nudged her to Wanda. Wanda received her little hand and enticed the kids with the promise of ice-cream. Sarah clapped her hands and as the trio left, Grace did look over her shoulders at you in concern and for permission, majorly in concern though. You nodded and waved, a tear dropping as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were still staring at the door, not wanting to meet Steve’s stormy blue orbs when he began, “Today was a slip up that I won’t tolerate again. Neither the cursing nor the dramatics.”

We aren’t in a fucking play, what the fuck is he labelling as dramatics?

Your eyes slowly flickered to his, and you had a hard time not letting the tears escape except the one traitorous one earlier. The fatigue, the worry of Grace’s disappearance, the threats to your friends and family were all catching up to you. It took all in you to stay strong and not fall down right now.

“Steve this isn’t funny anymore. It’s sick and you know it! I just said no! Was that so inexcusable that you had to follow up with this? You have violated me for that, broken into my home and now kidnapped my daughter! At what extent will you stop?” You broke down finally, arms a flailing mess as fat tears rolled down. Nothing scared more than the helplessness this moment. He won and he knew it. The carnival incident was nothing in comparison to this. The only good thing you could hope in all this was a safe Grace but that too only if you complied, which seemed like what you would do now given your attempts at fighting back and scampering have failed laughably.

“Gosh, I forgot how theatrical women are. You are smart darling; you know what I want from day one, just a happy family. Nothing that horrendous has happened and especially not as badly as put it. I’m just looking out for you and me in the long run.” Steve slowly treaded towards you, his hand extended to pat your arm comfortingly but you involuntarily flinched at contact and stepped back. Steve clearly didn’t like that as he caught your arm in a bruising grip and jerked you towards him. Manhandling you as your wet hands rushed to ease his grip was not a tough task for Steve, a surprise to none.

“Stop trembling like I’ve actually done something to harm you!”

Steve clearly didn’t know how to comfort women and it showed.

You stopped with the cowering away, even though it disgusted you to be this much in close proximity with your assaulter. He clearly had anger issues and no clue how to solve them. You needed to steer the conversation right and get him out. You could see your hands visibly shake as you put them on his chest, just to create some distance and in a way of surrendering to not fight. The tears slowed but you don’t think they stopped; it was hard to tell with a million other things on your mind.

As your eyes made contact, Steve loosened his grip, clearly a bit satisfied by your submission, as he began counting to help you breathe. As much as you hated to admit, it helped you and you got a flashback to the time when you freaked out on him about Grace at that extravagant dinner date. That was a sweet gesture then, not so sweet now. Funny how drastically things change with time.

It wasn’t so much Steve’s help as it was your own mind telling you to be fucking smart about the whole ordeal right now.

“Good. Better. Now let’s talk. Why were you planning to run away? I’ve been busy and coming home to find out that wasn’t joyful, you know.” His smile suggested a better mood than before but his voice, his husky voice always had this daring edge that almost challenged you to defy him but at the same time warned you of unpleasant consequences if you did.

“Steve, I’m scared.” You spoke with utmost honesty. “The part of the world you associate yourself with scares me. You can’t blame me for not wanting that life for Grace, I mean you have a kid of your own. Wasn’t the carnival attack specifically on Sarah?”

The reasoning was right but you knew you triggered him the moment his smile evaporated. He either felt insulted as a parent or disrespected in his profession or probably both.

He was fighting his inner demons already and you pointing it out was a slap to his face, a hit he didn’t want to take.

“That was a slip up, I admit. Never again. I’m only human, okay?” He convinced himself and you, his grip tightening a bit again.

Oh no, not the right direction to take.

You reckoned he still had nightmares about it like you, he really did love Sarah a lot, all things aside.

“Besides, I am looking out for you! Out for you and Grace and Sarah. I remember my promise of never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

You definitely didn’t trust his security or his people because what sort of a mobster let his daughter get targeted and possibly abducted? You definitely didn’t know the whole story or if it was just a bad day but he wasn’t a person that deserved some slack. Despite all this, you knew what all he held above you, above a common man. He might not be ‘Kingpin’ skilled but a threat to you nonetheless.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Is that what you call following me around, huh?” which you immediately regretted.

“Trust the process, baby. Everything is just to protect you.”

Is that what he called stalking even Grace around and twistedly enough, sending you proof of that? The anonymous thread of photos was another nightmare of yours, thanks to him. The last being a candid photo inside Grace’s room, her sleeping in her bed this morning and that’s when you decided you needed to get out. Of course, that didn’t go as planned.

“How am I supposed to do that when you have cameras in my house?!” You scoffed and he reeled back at the accusation, having the nerve to look impressed at being uncovered and caught red-handed.

“Oh my fucking God, it was you! You sick pervert!” You jumped out of his grip, your eyes wide and horrified. “I wasn’t aware of what to make of it but of course, it was you! Who else would be sick enough to do that?” You let out a humorless chuckle. You always put things past him even when you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. When will you ever learn huh?  

You were full on panicking yet again, this man was an assaulter, a stalker and a creep too. It would have made a good dark, psychological thriller for you to watch if you weren’t the protagonist about to suffer his obsession.

He reached out to steady you again, but you whipped and stumbled back, realizing too late that you elbowed Steve’s nose so bad that there was a crunch. That, right there, was the look a man real-fucking-furious on Steve’s face and now you could see the feared mobster, the man who was personally terrorizing you under the beautiful, Greek God façade.

Steve reacted so fast even with an injury that in a split second, your view of his face turned into a view of his crotch.

“You do realize that there are others ways for me to teach you obedience? I think it’s fucking time you show me your gratitude for my care and attention and apologize for your misconduct and unkind response.” Steve spoke with a hoarse voice, a voice running out of patience and just about done with defiance.

His hand fisted your hair, maintaining eye contact while he nodded between you and his crotch. You knew what he wanted, what he was expecting as ‘thanks’.

“Steve, please no, you don’t-”

His other hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you from speaking as he warned, “I think you have done just enough talking for today, so why don’t you put that tongue to a better use and show me how sorry you are. Better make it convincing because I’d hate to pay one of your friends a visit and then bitch about a nasty blowjob.” He smirked at the end of his monologue, eyes shining with triumph and amusement.

You wouldn’t let him harm anyone else, you couldn’t. You and your daughter were already knee-deep in a pit and at this point, it’d just be cruel to drag someone else in. With shaky hands opening his pants, you just hoped you could get Grace out before you eventually were buried in it.

“Now that’s a good girl. Submissive is a sexy look on you.” His hands patted your hair, playing with your tresses while yours pulled his pants and then briefs down.

His member jerked out, almost slapping you in the face as you recoiled at his insolence to get hard and erect at your torment. Your disdain must have shown which he took as admiration and derision to take his affluent cock in.

“No need to get shy, I have faith you’ll be able take it just as well in your pretty pussy as you will right now. Open up-”

“Steve, I beg you-”

Just as you had cut him off, he interrupted your pleading. Your gag reflex was probably the most efficient in the world but that turned this narcissist on. It had been years since you had done it, never with a man as beefy as Steve.

His taste was salty and if you had to put it into better words, it was the like overpriced sea salt flakes that you never bought. High and pricey and for the entitled.

Your hands clutched at his thighs as you blacked out multiple times; your jaw aching, uvula swaying and tears escaping. Him forcing himself on you brough a new sense of vulnerability as your body trembled. Steve relished like a sadist, practically rutting into you all by himself as you just sat there with your jaw unnaturally open.

His obscene moans and groans were crass and nauseating and you just prayed for this to be over soon and for no one to walk in on this, especially your kid.

It seemed like it would never end, your body dehydrating with all the spit it produced, the drool dribbling and landing just beside your knees on your printed rug. You would have to throw that out.

The tears stooped after some point, the sobbing an unnecessary action that just tired you out more on this eventful day. You moved your tongue around to prevent your teeth from scratching him when he shifted angles. If this was what he did on slightly mad, you didn’t want to find what he did for a more serious punishment.

Apparently, that action was something that turned him on even more, his breath hitching as neared closure. In broken whispers he demanded that again and you complied, wanting to get done with it.

He growled in the moment of his release and you tried to lean back but his grip didn’t relent. “Swallow.” His grainy, exasperated voice said out loud and you knew better than to defy.

He released you and you fell on to the rug, hip bruising by knocking into some furniture and tears coming back again after being hydrated by his seed. He packed himself, his smile smug and content as his expressions truly resembled ecstasy being personified.

“You be a good fiancée from now on and maybe you’ll have all your friends alive and present at our wedding. No cheeky business from now on, got it?” Steve hummed then and strutted out, not even bothering to listen to your reply.

As soon as the door slammed, your eyes closed and your demons danced again.

There was no right direction to take when you were stuck in a loop.