#because I only saw her once or twice a month these past four years

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

I don’t think I’ve gone half an hour without thinking about her since last Monday. It doesn’t feel real, so I’ve cried less the last two days (thank god, because my nose was rubbed raw.)

I mentioned her a few minutes ago though and the tears came back. It’s strange what hits and what doesn’t. I was able to talk about it last night without crying, partially because it was in front of people and even with people I trust it’s like the tears just won’t come most of the time.

But today all it took was the empty spot where her water bowl should be.

[imtryingbuck]

He doesn’t know.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Tony date until he breaks your heart, he soon regrets it.

Word count: 1,800

Warnings: angst. cheating (sorry). Tony’s 40 readers 28. Swearing. pepper is terrible (sorry) mentions of miscarriage.

Masterlist

You had been dating Tony for the past three years, you met when he bumped into you in the restaurant you worked at. The air was knocked out of the both of you, you not only because you hadn’t expected to be nearly knocked down on your ass or the feeling of a strong arm wrapping themselves around your waist just before you hit the ground. Him because he wasn’t expecting to knock into the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

From that day on Tony came into the restaurant just to see you, spending money on food he didn’t eat sometimes he would just sit at the bar and talk to you if you were manning it.

Six months after your initial meeting he asked you out even though there was an age difference between the pair of you, you said yes.

Everyday since you two were dating was different, he spoiled you to no end from expensive gifts to lavish trips to beautiful places. The love you two shared was something you never experienced before, it was pure. It was genuine.

You had never been happier.

For the past five months Tony was becoming distant from you, he was always working on projects that he never let you in on which you understood, you didn’t need to know the ins and outs of his business. Whenever you were lucky enough to spend time with him he was on his phone texting. When he came home from work he would go straight into the bathroom and you’d be lying in bed hearing the shower running.

For five months you tried and tried to get him to slow his work schedule down worried for what it was going to do with his health but all he replied with was yeah I will, but it never happened.

Today was your four year anniversary and since he hadn’t said anything about what you two would be doing you had decided that you’d surprise him at work with a home cooked meal since you knew he wouldn’t leave to go to a restaurant as work was too busy. Hopefully he could spare thirty minutes of his time to spend with you. It was your anniversary after all.

Getting out of the car you walked into the tower, greeting the receptionist with a smile receiving one in return you go into the elevator. The higher the box went up the worse your nerves got.

It’s just Tony, you thought to yourself.

Once the door opened you looked around to see any of the hero’s you had become friends with in the now four years you had been with Tony but you couldn’t find anyone so you headed straight to Tony’s office. Knocking on the door twice you opened the door.

And that’s where everything that had been happening in the past five months where Tony had been acting strange and distant had all made sense.

The man you was in love with, the man you stood by when everyone slated him, the man that defended you publicly when you was being called a gold digger, the man who has now officially broke your heart.

That man was sitting on the couch in his office with a blonde woman sat on his lap. Lips locked together. Her shirt on the floor. His hands roaming her torso.

“This looks bad...”

That’s all what the man who you have loved for four years, the man who you have just caught cheating on you, said when he heard you drop the containers off food on the floor.

“What is it babe? Oh it’s you” the blonde said when he pulled away from her, she saw where he was looking so she turned to face you.

Your heart dropped.

It was Pepper.

With your eyes fixed on his you stumbled backwards knocking into the door frame on your way out. Turning around you walked as fast as your legs could carry you back to the elevator, with every step you took you could hear Tony behind you.

“Y/n. Y/n, baby slow down. Please just wait” thanks to the wait of the elevator he managed to catch up to you.

“Baby it-it’s not what-“

“How long?”

His heart clenched painfully at the way your voice sounded so small, seeing the way you flinched at him touching you crushed him. Tony knew that he only had himself to blame. He also knew he was going to have to tell you the truth, knowing for a fact that you were going to be leaving him forever when he told you broke his heart.

“Y/n-“

“How long”

“S-six mo-months” Tony’s stomach sunk when he saw your hand go flying to cover your mouth, hearing a muffled sob coming from you.

“W-why?”

“Y/n-“

“Why. Why Tony?”

“I-I-I…I don’t know”

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why he’s been cheating on you for the past six months. He doesn’t know why he’s cheated on you and thrown your three years relationship down the drain.

He doesn’t even have an answer to give you for breaking your heart into millions of pieces.

“Wasn’t-“ No. No you wasn’t going to ask that. No way was you going to ask the cheater ‘wasn’t I good enough’ or ‘what did I do wrong’. He was the one that cheated, not you. No way was you going to ask all the questions that you wanted to ask because he simply did not know why he had been cheating on you for the past six months with his assistant.

The same assistant that knew you two were dating.

“Y/n baby please-“

“Babe have you told her?” Pepper’s voice cut him off this time.

Tony’s eyes went straight to his shoes finding it easier for him to shake his head without looking at you.

“To-told me what?”

What could be worse than finding out that your boyfriend had been cheating on you for six months?

“I’m pregnant! We’re going to have a baby” 

That’ll do it. That was worse.

You and Tony agreed that you’d both start trying to get pregnant when you celebrated your three year anniversary. It just wasn’t working but you kept trying. Until eight months ago. You found out you was pregnant, the way Tony’s face lit up with tears streaming down his cheeks when you told him he was going to be a father engrained it’s self into your memory.

A month after that happy day you woke up to cramps in your stomach, Tony rushed you to the hospital where they told you that you had lost baby Stark.

Maybe that’s what drove him into the arms of another woman. A woman who was the same age as him. A woman that could give him what he’s always wanted.

A woman that simply wasn’t you.

“D-do you love her?”

Tony frowned at the question, he expected you to call him names or something. He expected you to tell him that he was worse than the devil himself but no, no you asked him if he loved Pepper.

“Y-yes”

“I-I wish you two t-the best.” Tony’s sad eyes filled with tears, the itch to ask him why he was sad for gnawed at you, Pepper looked smug.

Turning to Pepper you looked her in the eyes “you know the saying don’t you? What they do with you…they do on you”

You were rather proud of the fact that you didn’t stutter when looking at the woman who was sleeping with your boyfriend. Seeing her smug smile drop when she understood what you were implying turned your pain into satisfaction.

“Y/n?”

“Hel-hi Tony”

“I knew that was you, hi”

It’s been six years since you last saw Tony, a year after leaving you met a divorcee a few months after moving to a new town. Things moved quickly between the pair of you, a year after meeting him he proposed, a month later you were married, eight months later you gave birth to your daughter. Finding yourself pregnant four months after giving birth to Ali, several months afterwards you gave birth to twin boys Harvey and Jackson.

“Hi Tony. What are you doing here?”

Here being in the town you lived in with your family, here being in the car park of target.

“We had a mission just dropping off for some food, what about you?”

“I live here”

“Oh, so how have you been?”

“Fine. What about you?”

“Fine. Fine. I-I messed up Y/n/n badly! Turned out that the baby wasn’t mine an-and I’ve been trying to find yo-“

“Momma!” You turned around to find Ali running at you full speed, her pigtails flailing around as she got closer to you.

“Momma? Y/n is she mine?”

“No-“ you had to laugh at his question. Luckily he hadn’t touched you in them five months of him cheating on you, it was impossible for him to be the dad of your beautiful baby girl. “No she’s my husbands”

“H-husband?” Tony stuttered, eyes going straight to your ring finger. Heart sinking when he found a shiny diamond ring sitting there.

“That would be me, nice to meet a friend of Y/n’s. Baby the twins made me get them a new toy”

“Made you? Your an adult, they are only children”

“They’re scary babe”

Tony stood there awkwardly watching the interaction between the woman who he has never stopped loving, and her husband.

“T-twins? You have three kids?”

“Yeah, they practically run the house. Always outnumbered with the three little rascals” your husband said smiling proudly. “Oh by the way I’m Andy, nice to meet you.”

“Tony”

“Yeah I know who you are. Come on baby we need to get going home” Tony didn’t like the way Andy’s voice was towards him.

“Coming love. It was nice seeing you Tony, I’m sorry about the baby. I wish you nothing but happiness, goodbye”

You didn’t even let him say anything back to you before you took Andy’s waiting hand as he had Ali in his other arm.

Getting into the car with your husband after he got Ali into her car seat, you smiled at the twins and Jacob - your stepson - then at your husband.

After finding out about Tony’s betrayal you thought you would never find love and happiness again but life lead you to Andy, the man who made you feel loved more than Tony ever did. Andy made you feel happier more than Tony ever did.

“Let’s go home”

As your family’s car pulled out of the parking lot Tony’s eyes never left the vehicle.

He had lost his everything the moment he let Pepper kiss him that first time. Now six years on he had truly lost his world to another man.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[showerbong]

josh hutcherson bicurious (im paraphrasing)

i'm drinking miller and pirating contagion again on my laptop, which is overheating, and the fan is kicked on so high because i'm using all my available RAM with all the pop-up porn adds on this foreign streaming site called ww7.soap2day.co, and i am too lazy to try to close the titty pop-ups so i just let them loop, jiggling their tits over gwyneth paltrow's face as she hacks up a lung in the kitchen and keels over at matt damon's feet. i always forget that gwyneth paltrow has this insanely cunty and extraordinarily short-lived character arc as patient zero where shes in the movie for like 11 minutes and then next thing you know shes getting her head sawed open for an autopsy. the fan and the pop-up porn are so loud that i have the subtitles on and they just say [SAW BUZZING] and gwyneth's sort of stunned open-mouthed face is taking up the whole frame just staring slightly off screen. i feel like this has been said before but i love her character work here in contrast to the goop vagina rocks and pussy candles. me and jamie have been taking these quizzes recently to get our seasonal color analysis and i think gwyneth is a soft spring here. she's like pasty and bloodless but also so pastel while shes getting her brain dissected. me and jamie keep getting all four different seasons when we take all these different mommy blogger quizzes but i am just going to keep taking the quiz until i get what i want, which I think would be winter because its chic and classic and im so absolutely bored of midwestern people. i've only been to new york three times but i feel like its not too late to at least delude myself for a month or two that i'll move there next fall.

i keep seeing all these online debates about this new hunger games movie and something about the katniss / anti-katniss female lead character archetypes but i always scroll past before i have any sense of what they're talking about. i went through like 11 years of icloud photos tonight to show jamie because it got too complicated trying to explain all of the different phases & aesthetics i've cycled through. its so embarrassing to admit but in college literally everyone called me 'peen' for four whole years as some sort of extended callback to a weird comment i made freshman year about being team peeta & katniss and how i was team peenis. i really never set myself up for success and it was never mean spirited but it did feel particularly TARGETED, even when i came back to school in the fall one year incredibly TANNED and TONED from just working all summer and going to the gym like twice a day to avoid awkward one-on-one time with my mom. there was even this one dude that i fucked like three times or so, and we were like good friends but when i'd see him walking around campus he'd be like 'hey peen' and then proceed to text me to hang out a few hours later. classic that this would happen to me but again i did kind of bring it on myself in a moment of needing to just be the loudest, biggest breath-sucking striver in the room. i almost always succeeded, though, in captivating and maintaining.

you know years later i did finally succeed in reinventing myself as a cool fun party coke girl, but like one who also knows every pavement song and went to post-bar sex parties at this one allston dj's house. i think i fucked at least a couple guys who had josh hutcherson vibes but were considerably uglier. i think josh hutcherson once said that katniss & peeta & gale should have a threesome or something. in my personal experience, during this time i did have a threesome with this guy who i must have thought looked vaguely josh hutcherson, kind of stocky but with a nice jawline, but in reality this dude had a weird fupa and carried himself with a sort of an all-around, prematurely-aging affect. once after we boned he asked me to take pictures of him for his tinder account, and everything was just so boring then so i said sure yeah im game, and i truly had nothing else to do, so he had me take a bunch of shots of him laying completely naked on top of the bed with a copy of infinite jest folded open on his lap covering his crotch. you can see like a sliver of ballsack in every single picture. this, along with a few additional reasons, is why i think gwyneth paltrow's lobotomy on steriods speaks to me. i think a lot of my problems in life would be solved if i was just team gale

[eddywoww]

So when I was in highschool I fell in love with one of my best friends and then tried to convince myself that I didn't and we both went to university in different cities from our hometown but then when we came back (along with all our friend group) for winter break i actually realized that I was in love with her. Then one day we went out to a club with our friends and we were drunk so i kissed her like twice on separate occasions and then proceeded to pretend I didn't remember when I was actually having several breakdowns over it and talking to all my friends about it. After that we both went back to college but then the pandemic hit and we both went back to our hometown and out friend group would have videocalls every Friday, and we watched a show we both liked and stuff like that so I fell even deeper for her but then a lot of stuff happened and I was really overwhelmed about it and I just felt like I couldn't keep on loving her from afar anymore (even more when it came to my attention that she actually liked girls which I didn't know before so i thought I didn't have a chance) and then I started feeling distanced from my friends so i just left the friend group. I tried to come back many time but I was never able to do it because I was too afraid (i've had problems trying to keep friends before) until four months later when I tried sending them letters explaining what happened to each of them (most of them didn't respond). And when I saw what she responded (because I did indeed tell her I was in love with her and it was getting a little too painful) I saw that she was really mad and told me she felt i only used her and that our friendship wasn't real or at least not how she thought it was. So i told her I wouldn't talk to her again and proceeded to cry for many hours. Afterwards I never spoke or saw her again but was still in love with her until last year.

Sorry if it's too much but it's the only confession I could think of right now hahaha hope it entertains you.((:

Oh sweetheart 😔 I’m really sorry you had to go through that. Unrequited love is painful and especially when it involves a friend, it’s always hard to be brave and confess stuff like that. I’m very proud of you for doing it and getting it off your chest though, at least you know that you did that and can always have that for yourself. And I’m sorry your friend group became distant. That can happen as you get older, I suppose. It’s happened to me a lot in the past and it gets harder to find people you really relate to once you realize who and what you want in your life. Just know that you’re valuable and seen and completely valid. I hope you’re doing okay and it’s never too much 💕

[forgotten-daydreamer]

people underestimate how fucking exhausting it is to live with adult housemates who have evidently never been house trained.

i've been living in this same house with the same people for a little over a year now, and at first i was reluctant to mention the way they leave the house because i didn't want to seem mean, but i just can't fucking stand this shit any longer.

we take turns for pretty much everything, including taking out the trash (which also logically implies washing the fucking bins). so i started leaving post-its everywhere to remind them to take out the trash TWICE a week. four of us, four weeks in a month, so each of us only has to take the trash out twice a month, three-four days apart, and wash the bins once a month each, because once a week is enough tbh. it literally only means putting them in the tub, pouring a lil bit of bleach in them, letting it soak, rinsing with boiling water and that's it, that's enough, that'd suffice. none of them does it unless i explicitly remind them to.

this summer i had to deal with ants and flies because of this fucking reason. they fill the bins to the brim (and they're pretty big fyi) and then "forget" to take the trash out.

"ugh it's cold outside" "i'll just do it tomorrow" "i got too much stuff to do" "i'm in my pjs already". like. i don't fucking care. when you come back from uni, you put your bag down, take the trash out, and come back home. you liteally need to walk thirty damn seconds to get to where we throw the trash, and we have a lift, so it's not like you have to climb any stairs or shit.

a few minutes ago i went to throw a pad away and i saw the bin filled to the brim, so i loudly sighed before i could stop myself and went "girls, for fuck's sake*, what the fuck is this." because the damn thing was overflowing. mind you, i haven't had trash to throw away in two whole days because i have barely been at home at all. (*it was a "diocane" actually...). and they got madddd at my tone like i don'tttt care!!

you are +20 so take out!! the damn!! trash!! the post-its i put on the door MONTHS ago specifically mention bugs, and i suggested to take the trash out twice a week, on tuesdays and fridays, so that the chances of the bins overflowing are very slim. and also, i suggested it so that none of us has to take down fifteen fucking trash bags in a single day, yknow. there's four of us so of course we produce a lot of trash, it's only normal, which is why we need to take it out more often!!

not to mention hair everywhere, stuff that's left in the sink for days - i used to just wash everything myself, but these past few weeks i have just been going "hey, whose is this? it stinks." and?? the toilet!! everyone poops, okay? it happens for it to stain - but that's why they invented toilet brushes!! wipe your ass, wash it or whatever, and check the toilet after you flush!! it's not that hard!! it takes like ten seconds at most to flush so i think they can all afford to wait for that long and check if everything's clean.

for fuck's sake. they are incapable of cleaning the house in general. bins aside, these girls really love, THRIVE in this dirty ass house. cleaning the sink, basin, toilet, and bidet when it's specifically your monthly turn to do so? never heard of her. cleaning your shelf of the fridge at least once a month? nah. picking up your hair after you dry and brush it, instead of letting huge, nasty balls of hairs form and just roll around the house? wash the rags? clean the air vent in the kitchen?

what's "funny" is that a few days back i was mopping and i was like "hey, wait a sec before walking here, i'm using bleach and it might stain your socks!" and one of them went "ah, you using bleach? how rare haha!" sarcastically. like. yes, excuse me for not wanting to live in a pigsty for which i pay OVER €500 in just two months. we all take our shoes off at the entrance but the floors are still nasty. how do i know?

1. i'm allergic to dust, and it's not just coughing, it's choking, going red and struggling to inhale, skin itching and swelling.

i'm tired. i'm tired of everything. i'm already having trouble with some other shit and coming home every fucking day to a shitty, dirty, cold house is ruining me.

2. the socks i use around the house were pristine when i brought them here, now the soils are stained, black. i have like 4-5 designed pairs i only wear around the house, and always change socks every three days - socks that, again, i only put on after i get home and shower, and that i take off before bed and only put on in the morning while getting ready. irreparably stained.

and oh, the fucking balcony. we keep the bins there, right? yeah. so when they go and throw shit away, sometimes stuff drips/drops/gracefully sprinkles all over the damn tiles. does any of them ever clean up the trail? these mfs think they're pollicino or something, i fear. one of them (and i still haven't figured out who) dropped a wholeass coffee ground there and it's been there for three or four days. i've been checking, every now and then, just waiting for someone to fess up or clean it up quietly. still there.

[zannatykhatun]

With two switches and two switches, it’s hard to leave “Huabei”

The feeling of excessive consumption is both happy and painful - happy because of the pleasure of shopping, but painful because of the pressure of repaying money.

The former makes people greedy enough,  HE Tuber but the latter may not make people alert enough. Therefore, many people will fall into the vicious circle of "often chaotic consumption and occasionally sober self-blame", and it is difficult to completely break this behavioral inertia.

Change is difficult. Xu Ran tried three times before she was able to break out.

In the past five years, it closed twice and reopened twice. It was not until April this year that Huabei was permanently closed.

Saving money is what she has always wanted to do, but it is easier said than done. Every time she gets a salary or bonus, she always fails because she has to pay back the money, or she just saves a little and then overspends, which makes her work for more than five years. , her deposit is zero.

The first time she decided to take action was in 2019. She saw a financial management post on Douban, which emphasized the power of compound interest. The main idea was that the first 100,000 in life was saved.

She was touched and decisively closed Huabei.

But soon the month's consumption was out of control. "Daily expenses such as social gatherings, shopping, and doing favors did not shrink at all, so I had to spend more to pay for it."

This behavioral inertia continued for more than a year. By 2021, a new opportunity appeared again-the income of the new job increased by 50% after changing jobs. She took advantage of the excitement of the increase in income to close Huabei. There was A new beginning, but "making the same mistakes again".

Until April this year, her salary increased by 40% again due to her promotion, and she also received a bonus of 50,000 yuan. These hard-earned "huge" numbers gave her enough motivation to save money, and she no longer wanted to spend money on unnecessary expenses. Only then was the determination to pay for work strengthened.

Not only Xu Ran, many people on Xiaohongshu said they had the experience of turning Huabei on and off repeatedly, "I closed Huabei and Borrowed several times, and every time I opened it again because of the temptation of cheaper payment with Huabei, but the result was that I didn't want to." It’s to save money, but in the end I overspend” “I usually don’t have willpower, I always turn off Huabei but can’t help but turn it on”…

The reason is that when excessive consumption becomes a habit, changes will cause discomfort.

Li Tao, an e-commerce worker born in the 2000s, has this feeling. “In May last year, after I closed Huabei, I couldn’t help but want to buy things, but because I had no money, I would feel scratchy and anxious.”

Anya has also experienced this process. For a month or two after she closed Huabei last year, she would subconsciously want to use Huabei to pay, and she would also feel like someone had taken a sum of money from you.

Before that, although she had not repeatedly turned on and off like Xu Ran, she had wanted to change more than once, but it was very difficult to implement it.

Even in the predicament of being hungry for two months, she still maintained the vicious cycle of "receiving living expenses today, repaying last month's expenses first, buying the rest first, and then saving and living frugally at the end of the month."

Before graduating from her senior year, when she heard that her roommate had saved 20,000 yuan in four years and she was still in debt, her sense of shame rekindled her determination to save money, but unfortunately, this reflection failed to motivate her. Completely "finished".

In the two years after graduation, she couldn't help but use Huabei to pay for new hobbies - trying more expensive food and buying electronic products.

For example, during the epidemic, she bought more than 2,000 Switches for fitness, but they were completely useless after two or three days of purchase. She could only resell them second-hand, as well as IPADs, computers, etc.

This gave her a strong sense of self-loathing, "I feel like why am I such a good person and why am I addicted to shopping? The money I earn will always be used to repay the loan. This money will never belong to me, but to Huabei!"

Perhaps the promotion of change does not come from reason, but depends more on the deep inner touch.

Last year, my grandmother was hospitalized for terminal cancer. She was old and suffering from many illnesses. Her relatives felt that treatment was no longer necessary. However, Anya was unable to do anything. She had worked for more than two years and had no savings. This was the first time she felt Realizing the risks finally gave her the motivation to get out of the vicious circle.

After paying off the last 800 yuan debt, she finally closed Huabei.

In fact, Xu Ran and Anya are lucky. The risk of excessive consumption is that if the cash flow is interrupted due to unemployment or other emergencies, the debt will be unable to be repaid and will continue to grow. Fortunately, they have never encountered it, but this may also become a hotbed for them to continue to maintain the habit of "flowers this month, return next month".

3. Regain a sense of control in life

Change is difficult, but the changed state is very satisfying.

On the one hand, you say goodbye to the pressure of monthly repayments and feel relaxed and at ease; on the other hand, you gain the joy of saving and feel fulfilled.

On Douban and Xiaohongshu, those who closed Huabei expressed the same feelings, "It feels like the whole world is different" and "It's so cool not to have Huabei. I can finally stay with my salary for more than a month." ""The moment I close Huabei, I feel so relaxed, and life continues to move forward"...

The deactivation of Huabei, Baitiao, Weilidai and credit cards means the development of new consumption methods.

A Xiaohongshu netizen said that after turning off Huabei, he can intuitively see that the remaining money is less every time he spends money. It will feel painful and he can exercise some restraint.

Tang Yu feels the same way. After she canceled her credit card at the beginning of this year, she found that she subconsciously wanted to save money on everything she did. Now she has to think carefully about anything online for more than 100 yuan.

Sisi also feels that since closing Huabei three years ago, her consumption concept has changed a lot. For example, she will only buy the things she wants to buy when they are irreplaceable; she no longer hoards, as long as she still has usable skin care products. I will never buy clothes and clothes again; when traveling, in addition to necessary food, drink and fun, I will not spend hundreds of yuan on a bunch of useless souvenirs...

She saved tens of thousands of dollars in three years, which gave her a strong sense of satisfaction. At the same time, she also has some spare time to spend money for her parents, such as buying some large household items. This makes her parents who have been preaching to her to save money feel that her child is sensible.

Anya started to plan her expenses and set a monthly goal of saving four to five thousand yuan.

On the one hand, she tries to buy only what she needs.

For example, make-up has been greatly simplified. In the past, I would buy a complete set of make-up. Now I only buy the foundation, loose powder and lipstick that I really need. I can save one to two thousand yuan in a year.

On the other hand, she learned to delay gratification.

When she sees something she really wants to buy, she will add it to the shopping cart and wait for two or three days. When she is sure that she really wants it but the cost is high, she will first set up a corresponding savings plan and use all the money she has earned from her hard work to buy it instead of buying it. Prepaying for expenses that do not belong to you means borrowing money to own it in advance.

This method is very effective. Last week she wanted to buy a new projector, but it cost about 10,000 yuan. After struggling for two or three days, she realized that even if she had a new projector, she could not find a high-definition video source. Get the expected

movie-watching experience and save the money.

In fact, avoiding impulsive consumption has become a consumption trend for many people. The "2023 China Consumer Insight Report" survey released by Morketing Research shows that 62.56% of the respondents said that "Compared with the previous year, they will think about whether they will consume when they consume." "There is really a need to buy", and 76.2% of the respondents said that "compared to the previous year, the number of impulse purchases throughout the year has decreased."

Planned and judicious consumption allowed Anya to regain a sense of control over money. “I used to feel that life was very chaotic and I was worried about debt every month, but now I feel that I am capable of dealing with future emergencies.”

Xu Ran also has a deep understanding of this sense of control. After closing Huabei, her biggest feeling was clarity—understanding her expenses and taking control of her life.

She adjusted the income distribution ratio from "financial management 15%, fixed expenditure 20%, flexible consumption 65%" to "financial management 15%, fixed expenditure 20%, flexible consumption 20%, and savings 45%". After paying her monthly salary , she would first transfer part of it to her savings card, saving about 4,000 yuan a month.

She attributed the success of the change to the change in her lifestyle - she cut off the bulk of her previous consumption of social gatherings and replaced it with sports and free shopping, which

saved about 1,500 yuan a month.

"I used to feel that I didn't buy anything this month, but I didn't save any money. Now I feel like I've been to the book fair and taken yoga classes this month. Knowing that money is spent on meaningful things will give me a psychological calmness that consumption can't give me. sense of satisfaction and satisfaction.”

It is worth mentioning that although consumption has decreased, these young people all agree that this is not a downgrade of consumption, but a "return to the original nature" of consumption - paying only for what is needed, spending money wisely, and saving the rest for future use. The confidence of life.

When consumption is chaotic, life can easily become confusing and out of control. When consumption has boundaries, life becomes clear and controllable.

(The names of the subjects in this article are pseudonyms)

Written by: Wang Shuran, Editor: Wan Tiannan

Source public account: Financial Story Collection (ID: cjgshui), senior onlookers, cautious complaints, original and in-depth interpretation

across finance and technology.

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The opinions in this article represent only the author's own. The Renren Product Manager platform only provides information storage space services.

[im-a-shitpost-god]

It's my dad's birthday today and for the first time in the 22 years I've been alive for I haven't wished him a nice day or another happy year. It made me feel really guilty of course, but I don't think he deserves it. Almost four whole months of not talking to him have gone by, and he has asked around about how I've been and what I've been doing. He's not been brave enough to ask me though. Four months and he hasn't asked why I don't speak to him either. I assume he thinks it's because I'm ungrateful and greedy, interested only in his money. It's hard when it's the only thing someone has to offer you and no matter how many times you try to explain and how you fade away over the years and how they stop knowing you completely. The worst is the extent you can pull yourself from someone's life without them trying to stop you or wanting to know why. So I haven't wished him a happy birthday and I feel horrible about it but I have enough self respect for myself to not do it.

Two weeks ago I got a bus ticket going to work, because I didn't have enough money to get one. I've had to miss doctor's appointments and reschedule therapy for weeks because I can't cover it and the guilt I feel for my mum having to go back and forth angry texting my dad to give her 30 pounds is worse than missing it. We've only been able to get groceries once the past three weeks because she can't cover it more often than that and I've been scrapping together dinners and lunches for work with whatever we would have on hand. I have debts I haven't been able to pay off in months and things I've needed for weeks I keep pushing off because I can bearely find enough money for food let alone stupid shit I can stretch without for a little while longer. The ammount of work one has to put into something as stupid as not starving lays heavy on my heart on the bus ride home from work. I stare out of the window as it's pouring outside, the window foggy from the heat of the bus and the people inside it. It's the only moment of my day I have enough time to consider how I'm feeling and I'm not feeling well. I feel like my heart's growing heavier with each year of my life and I yearn for the times where I worried about my friends and my grades and how other people saw me and how sad I would feel and I had enough time and friends and people around to worry about.

I digress, my dad's birthday is today and soon I'm suing him for aliments. It's not a pleasant thought and not a pleasant thing to do and not something I want to do at all if I had any other choices. I feel guilty for it, but even more guilty for my mum who is left arguing with my dad and worrying about how she will pay for our house bills. My dad seems like he doesn't have money to cover any of this, judging by how angry he gets about these things, or how he used to make me beg and plead for him to help me pay for groceries in uni. My sister, in the same position but with perhaps less quiet anger and pride bubbling up inside her broke off her silence after months to beg and plead. When she talks to me about what she has to say and do to get 40 pounds for petrol and a doctor's appointment I feel sick and all the more I feel my silence is okay. I am not like her and have never been like her. I'm not one to scream and yell and storm off and ignore someone for months out of anger. My anger always feels like it's brewing quietly for weeks, months and years before I get so fed up I up and leave. I don't ever explain why, to anybody. So, my dad has so much money. I grew up more well-off than any of my friends, never even looked at the prizes of things in stores, never wondered if we would go on holidays to someplace fancy and never wondered if I asked for something if my parents would decline. I had private tutors, expensive shoes and money-consuming hobbies. Dad didn't blink twice sending me off to America in highschool, spending enough money on it to buy a brand new car. So yeah, inviting me to his new house last year, staring at his imported from Britain wallpaper that cost more than my life had the past 6 months and at his designer fucking frigde that cost more than my life had in the past year and a half? The quiet rage kept growing and growing, every time he would yell at me asking where my money had gone studying abroad that month because food isn't that expensive and I have to be lying to him.

So, no happy birthday.

I feel like I am drowning in on myself, always have been that kind of person. I have suprisingly always been well-liked, well-known, like the kind of person that managed to be recognized by most people I passed. A smile always plastered on my face, teasing and talkative. Engaged into everyone I turned my attention to as if we were the best of friends. First time I walked away from someone was from my first friend group in highschool. They were all nice kids, way more quiet than me and consistent in their presence. But I've always been loud and a bit annoying and really too trusting and too honest. And I had like a fucked up situation happen there and I promise as selfish as I am, that was not my fault. I got semi-dropped but I earned back my way into that group and then fucked it all up again only a couple months after for this girl I was really in love with. My best friend had feelings for her and confessed all this shit to me when I was away in America and it obviously didn't go all that well. I dropped the poor girl before I left, but for some reason things between us always have been this way like a slow magnetic pull always. And so I tried to ditch her to save my friendship with this person I really loved and cared about. But then shit happened and I got pulled back in and then again stupidly promised I wouldn't see her because I loved my friend that much. Despite how earnest I was to do this I obviously didn't last all that long and two months passed and we were stuck at each other's hip again. Kept being blown off by my friends who seemed to have moved on from me to some extent and it hurt me a lot so I dropped them completely. I was depressed for months but moved on later, whatever. Similar thing with the next friends I made. I don't confront people about things. I quietly hope they will shake themselves and realise they are being assholes. So again, I wasn't treated the best. I pulled away. Some people would try to come back into my life but I wouldn't let them. Gave them a chance once, which they fucked up so badly I refrained from doing that ever again.

I used to be really trusting, overly so. People would take advantage as people do. I don't like to trust people now. I have friends but kept at arms length, ones I've known for years who I am not close enough with for them to fuck me over too bad. I have other friends, in countries I don't live in anymore, who I wish I got to see but can't. I am a really lonely person. I yearn to have people I can rely on but I also like to push people away. So when I'm on the bus staring out at the route I've taken since I was thirteen, so familiar to me, I wish I had someone close. I am not interested in surface level friends like I used to be. That came after losing the first real friends I had. I don't know. Many times I've found out my closest friends would call me annoying and too much behind closed doors. I can honestly see what they meant but the diluted version of me that exists now makes me sick to my stomach. I used to be just as happy and excited and loud as I used to be sad but it was a whole me. Now I feel like a fructured mess of nothing and nothing to offer and nothing to want or need. Last time I made friends was maybe three years ago and since then I'v e felt less and less like myself.

So, anyways, off topic a bit. Sometimes walking through a busy street, on a train getting home and in a pasta aisle of a grocery store I want to start screaming and not stop. Start sobbing my heart out and have people look at me weird and pull their children away and call the security. I want to finally break and do something so crazy that at least somebody will look at me. I just still feel like that about everything- like a slow slow light and gentle brewing anger, non-spilling and not hot. Just bearely there if you don't look at it right or close enough. I don't know. When I was younger I used to think that if I killed myself then at least people would notice. I don't think I was that far off

[doctornilaybailey]

"That's not true. Not even in the slightest bit. I told you: I'm an archaeologist. I know better than anyone that the opinions of the dead still matter, whether they've been gone since the Bronze Age or less than a decade." Sure, Nilay never knew Harrison personally. But she was a researcher. And ever since Eli told her more about the Amethyst front man, she did what she does best: she researched. Every video, every interview, every photo, every social media post, every article; She dug and she dug as she did everything she could to learn more about the man. She wanted to know more about him. She wanted to understand who he was and what he's left behind in the world. She wanted to understand why Elijah fell in love with the man in the first place. And... She's been able to understand some. But not entirely. She knew that she needed to ask her boyfriend, but, considering how much with everything else he's been hesitant on talking to her about? She had better luck with her research. "At his grave yesterday," she answered matter-of-factly. "I've been visiting him for awhile now." At first, it was to chew him out for haunting Eli and to blame him for all this chaos. Then... Over time, she began to ask him for help. To talk to him about everything and what she needed to do. In an odd way, it's become... comforting. She didn't feel like she could talk with the living about this mess; Talking to Harrison's ghost, even though he couldn't talk back, has lighten her heavy heart. "When's the last time you spoke to him?"

What a fucking prick, she thought once she saw his smirk. If there was something that she absolutely hated, it was someone underestimating her. No matter what it was, it brought her back to when she was a scared little girl unable to protect herself, whether it was from one of her more horrible foster families or one of her old bullies in university. Only this time, she was capable of protecting herself. "What're your dietary restrictions? If you won't have dinner with the both of us, let me make you something in the kitchen right now. One that won't require any kind of utensils yet is still fulfilling."

Nilay stared at him for a moment. Until, finally, she let out a soft scoff. Though, there was also a hint of a laugh there. And soon enough, she laughed again, shaking her head as she looked away from the former bassist for a moment. "Oh, god, the stories I could tell you," she said, sighing before taking a drink. She thought back to the days of her pregnancy with Rhia. How Elijah got so scared and wasn't sure if he wanted to be a father or not that he left, couch-hopping at some of his friend's places for a month and a half. How they barely saw each other during that time, only twice: once, in which she was able to get him to stay at home for a night and then the other being the day they found out she had placenta previa again and he came back home permanently. "You're not the bad guy in this situation, Roman. No one is. Not even Eli, even though I do agree that it's unfair of him to not recognize that it was wrong of him to do that. But the Eli I know and love, the Eli that I've been watching grow these past four years, is capable of realizing that. You don't want to talk with him? Fine, I can't force you to. But don't you dare sit there and tell me what Elijah is or isn't capable of, because I can assure you that he is more than capable enough. And he will recognize that he's in the wrong. He has plenty of times before in the past throughout our relationship; He will again this time." Her partner was a stubborn man. But she believed in him. And lucky for Roman, Antonio, and Kaya, she had enough faith in Elijah for all of them.

📜@theromandaniels

He couldn't help but snort at the whole 'he wouldn't want to see you like this' schtick. It didn't work when Ophelia tried it after the first verbal sparring with Eli, and it certainly wouldn't work by a woman who never knew him and probably skimmed the Wikipedia page of the late frontman, or heard Eli's version of events when it came to matters of the band. "Well, it's a good thing he's dead and his opinion means fuck all." He spoke plainly, almost exactly what he told Ophelia the last time he had a version of this conversation. It always stung, when he heard his friend's name, of course, but it was lessened by the simple fact Nilay had no clue what she was talking about. He glanced over at her then, a challenge in his eye. "Tell you what, you tell me the last time you spoke with Harrison Morrey, and I will take what you think he'd think at more than face value."

Not that he was ever planning on running into Elijah again, or even actually threatening his life in a more practical level, but he couldn't help but smirk at the idea of that six-foot something lurch motherfucker having a bodyguard who could have been mistaken for Tinkerbell. "Sure." He remarked simply, keeping in mind that even if things were good between him and the former keyboardist, he'd probably deny the invitation on the implication he'd only be fed soup anyway. And even then, spoons could be a deadlier weapon than one would think.

Roman took another sip, resisting rolling his eyes when she made it abundantly clear to everyone in earshot that this place semi-belonged to her. It didn't impress Roman — perhaps it would have if he didn't come from money himself — but it was crystal clear what she was implying: one wrong move and he was being shot out on his arse at her say-so. "You're right, what Eli did was wrong. And he made it clear several times he doesn't think it was. You can take a horse to water, but you can't make it stare at its reflection and recognize it's a cunt." He shrugged. "I have no interest in talking to him. If Toni wants to, sure, whatever. I'm just trying to run my little music shop and maybe go one day without feeling like the bad guy because I dared call him out on his bullshit."

[cjsinkythoughts]

Suits, Dresses, and Heels

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, More Mentions of PTSD, Gun Violence, Slight Mentions of Drinking, Club Dancing (You’re all gonna hate me for that part, but I’m not sorry)

A/N: Here’s Part 4.2 - The Second Part to Episode 3 - as requested. This is a little more scene-by-scene, but there are some off-screen moments. I’ll be posting Part 4.3 (which will have the rest of the episode) later tonight.

There’s a bit more information on Reader, but not as much as the last chapter. Sharon comes in during this part, so you get to see her and Reader’s relationship.

Also, I have mixed feelings about Zemo at this point. Not in the story, the Reader’s not a fan as you learned previously, but for me personally, he’s surprised me a couple times by coming back and helping.

Anyways! Thank you so much for reading! This isn’t beta’d so excuse any mistakes! Check out my other parts before you read! Thank you again! Stay tuned, loves!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The dress was far too tight for your liking, and showed way too much skin. Not that you didn’t like being a tease every once in a while, but for this mission, you’d rather have more cover and movement.

You had to admit though; Zemo had nice taste. The dress fit deliciously - which made you wonder how he got your size. The color and cut was devastatingly flattering. Plus, he let you do your own makeup.

Being the only female, you were in a separate area of the jet getting ready. Once you were done, you made sure to knock, even though you’d walked in on Sam changing too many times to count while on the run and had seen Bucky answer the door in nothing but a towel. It was mainly for Zemo’s sake, just a warning that you were walking in whether or not they were ready.

“Damn, girl! You clean up nice!”

You rolled your eyes at Sam, painted lips quirking up as you studied him, shooting him a wink. “You should try a mirror, Sammy.” You turned to Bucky to find him staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at you. “What do you think, Buck?”

His mouth snapped shut and he cleared his throat, eyes exploring the dips and curves your body. “You…” He blinked once. Twice. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his intense eyes making you heat up, before he shook his head. “You look good.” He rushed out, before spinning on his heel shoving past Sam who was snickering.

“Where’s Zemo?” You noticed he wasn’t in the main area of the plane when you walked in.

“Rearranging our ride once we get there.”

You huffed, fixing your hair. “Oh God. We’re really doing this.”

“Yup.”

“Okay.” You looked down at yourself before looking up at the boys. “Something’s gonna go wrong, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

“No doubt.”

Giving a slight groan at their simultaneous answers, you nodded. “Let’s try not to screw up too badly, boys, alright? I at least want to live long enough to see Peter graduate.”

Sam rolled his eyes with a scoff. “That kid’s a punk.”

“You’re a punk.” You shot back.

Bucky raised his hand. “I second that punk thing.”

“For which one?”

“Both of them.”

You chuckled as Sam gaped at Bucky, who shrugged innocently. The former assassin tilted his head in your direction to shoot you a grin and a wink, making you laugh more. Shaking your head, you go to make a joke when Zemo walked in.

“It’s time. We’re landing now.”

And just like that, the teasing atmosphere dissipated, leaving you anxious and regretful.

*******************

You walked by Bucky, arm linked with his metal one, listening as Zemo told Sam about his “character” he was to play.

“He’s a known womanizer - always has a gorgeous lady on his arm.” Zemo gestured towards you. “It’s the only way they’d let in a woman.”

“Aren’t we going to see a woman?” You questioned, gently patting Bucky’s metallic bicep when his hold on you tightened.

“Which makes it more imperative that you don’t act threatening. Women don’t make the same mistake men do; they don’t underestimate other women.”

You nodded. He had a point there. Bucky faced you, a frown on those pretty lips. “I don’t like this.” He mumbled.

“You think I do?” You whispered back. “With you being him again? Even if it’s just pretend? And need I remind you whose idea this was?”

“I know, I know. Just…” He sighed. “Promise me you won’t get hurt on purpose.”

Your forehead creased. “Why would I-?”

“To protect people. You always do. And I get it, I do. It’s why you started this in the first place, but…save yourself first, this time, okay?”

“Buck-”

“Promise me.”

It wasn’t often you could see the fear in his eyes, hear it in his voice, but you could then. Unable to do anything else you nodded, a soft, “okay” falling from your lips. He nodded back, pressing a kiss to your head, before letting you go as a car approached.

Bucky helped you in - the heels you were wearing were no joke - before sliding in himself, Sam getting in on the other side of you. “And you two can’t be…” Zemo gestured to the two of you as the car started moving, eyeing your still connected hands. “Doing that.”

“This isn’t my first theater production.” You snapped at him. “We’ll be fine.”

He raised his hands in surrender, turning back to look out the windshield. Once you arrived, you gave Bucky’s hand one last squeeze, before accepting Sam’s hand to get out on his side, linking your arm with his like you were doing with Bucky earlier.

“I finally get to see one of your performances, baby.” Sam grinned at you.

You smirked back. “Best seats in the house, too, Smiling Tiger.” He groaned at your jest, nudging you playfully with his elbow as you giggled.

“This way.” Zemo cut in, jerking his head in the direction you’d be going. You took a breath, steeling yourself, before the three of you nodded at each other and followed his lead.

You found the fellas reactions amusing, their heads turning to study and scan everything they could see. You were more subtle in the way you analyzed your surroundings, feeling a bit more at home in this situation than, say, fighting super soldiers on top of semi trucks.

Your jaw tightened, as did your grip on Sam’s arm, when Zemo started speaking Russian, the four of you pushing through a crowded bar. Sam ran his fingers over your arms, giving your hand a little squeeze, silently reassuring you.

It was a bit obvious Sam hadn’t done much undercover work, put he stayed in character and you were impressed. Especially when the bartender started cutting up the snake, which you had to look away for because if there was one thing you couldn’t do…it was snakes. You nearly gagged when Sam reluctantly downed the drink. 

Bucky eyed you, lips pursed in a way you recognized as him trying to hold in a smile. That made you feel a little better, hiding your own smile by turning into the crook of Sam’s neck. “Not. Funny.” He growled through clenched teeth, lips not moving.

“Kinda is.”

He grumbled under his breath, before the two of you tuned into the conversation between Zemo and a thug that came up, learning about the apparent power broker of Madripoor, which you a bit of from your time undercover there.

Sam held you tightly when Zemo turned to Bucky, knowing what was about to happen.

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like how easily aggressive he became. You didn’t like the little smirk Zemo gave as Bucky attacked. You didn’t like the cellphones being pointed in his direction. You didn’t like it.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” You gave Zemo a warning glare, a shaky breath leaving you.

He’d been doing so well. At least, for someone who had been through what he had. Especially considering it’d only been a few months since he’d been pardoned - half a year since everyone came back. You knew bringing Zemo on board had been a bad idea, but-

A squeeze to your hand pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out an inaudible sigh of relief as Zemo allowed Bucky to let the man he was choking go.

“Selby will see you now.”

One step down. You hoped that would be the hardest part, but you knew it most definitely wouldn’t be.

“You good?”

Bucky sniffed, giving you two a curt nod, before following Zemo. You bit your lip. “That wasn’t really an answer, was it?”

Sam shook his head. “No. No it wasn’t.”

Selby wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, but you’d come to expect that. You stayed on Sam’s arm, giving the guards coy smiles and playing with the fake nails you had on in faux-boredom.

When she purred at the man besides you, you and Bucky glanced at each other, with you resisting the urge to scrunch up your nose. “And who is this gorgeous creature?”

Your eyes snapped back to Selby, giving her a slightly bashful smile. “Celeste Addams. Pleasure.”

“Trust me, dear. The pleasure is all mine.” Alright, you thought as she scanned you with a smirk. She was swinging for both teams. You could work with that. “What’s the offer?” She looked back to Zemo.

Zemo gave her the offer - information about the super soldier serum for the Winter Soldier and the code words to control him. Your blood boiled as Zemo touched Bucky, fingers grabbing his chin. You swore, once this whole thing was over, you would kick Zemo’s ass. You should make a list, just to keep track of all the things he’d done, and no doubt would do, to piss you off. That way he’d know why exactly you were beating his ass.

A name came up, Dr. Wilfred Nagel, along with the knowledge that the super soldier serum was, in fact, in Madripoor. You and Sam met eyes. Second step down.

But before they could get anything else, Sam’s phone buzzed. You ducked your head, closing your eyes, mumbling “fuck” when you saw it was Sarah. Sam’s responses just made you inwardly cringe even more.

“The bank, yeah. We laundered so much mo-” He chuckled nervously. “Yeah. They’ll come around.”

Is he fucking serious? For the love of God, Sammy…

And then she called him Sam. Next thing you knew, Selby was shot and you, Bucky, and Sam were taking out a guard each, you growling at the fact that you couldn’t use your legs because the dress was too damn tight.

You had no choice but to trust Zemo’s lead, but word traveled very quickly here, and less than a minute after walking outside, you were getting shot at.

“C’mon!” Bucky grabbed your arm, pulling you besides him.

“Can you not right now?!”

“I can’t run in these heels!”

You glared at Sam, the killer six inchers on your feet feeling like hell. “Hell no! You did not just say that in front of me!”

“You started it!” You scowled at him, following Bucky into an alley, only to duck as shots rang out. Chest heaving, you looked around for the source of the bullets that killed the men chasing you.  Your “guardian angel” as Zemo put it.

She soon appeared in all her stunning, blonde badass glory. “Sharon?”

Sam quickly explained the situation, trying to get her not to shoot Zemo who she had a gun pointed at.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass,” she pointed the gun at Sam, then Bucky, “so that you could save his ass, from his ass.” And the gun was back on Zemo. She shot you a smile. “And your ass is looking beautiful as always.”

You grinned back. “Thanks. You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

As she spoke, your lips turned down. You had tried calling her after Germany, but it always went to voicemail. First thing you did when you got back was try to get everyone pardoned, but it was a process. And then you found out about Wanda and ever since…

Sharon was your first real friend. She was only a couple years younger than you and had been one of your first partners during your time with SHIELD. And the fact that she’d been on the run for years now, even with the Blip, her family not having seen or talked to her since…that was exactly why you couldn’t take a break. She was family and you found there was nothing more important than family. But when she needed you, you were out searching for someone who didn’t want to be found.

How were you supposed to choose between two sisters? How could you cope with the fact that you chose the wrong one?

“Sharon, we need your help.” She laughed at Bucky’s statement. “Please,”

She glanced at you and you nodded. “I’d appreciate it, Share.”

She gave a sigh before nodding. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You should be safe there for a while.”

She turned and started walking, and you were about to follow, when you remembered something.

Spinning around, your fist connected with Zemo’s cheek, Sam and Bucky shouting in surprise while the man stumbled back. “Don’t you fucking dare touch him like that ever again, or I will break every bone in your body.” You threatened, your expression twisting into a scowl as you grab his hand and bend it awkwardly. He grunted but didn’t move, knowing one wrong turn would break his wrist. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” He ground out.

You pushed a little more, making him wince, before letting go and rounding back to Sharon, who was smirking at you. “Let’s get moving.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She jerked her head back over her shoulder to where a car was waiting, leading them over.

You quickly followed after her with Bucky on your heels and Sam dragging Zemo along. Speaking of heels, as soon as you got in the car - getting shotgun for the first time ever at Sharon’s insistence - you prodded the stupid shoes off your feet.

“Nice kicks.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “Unless you’re trying to kick.”

“Did you rip the dress?”

“I was tempted to.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you in something more comfortable. And you’ll look just as good. Not that you wouldn’t look good in literally anything.”

You chuckled, giving her a look. “Let’s not test that theory.”

She smiled back, nodding. “Fine. I’ll let you pick something out.”

Sam huffed, crossing his arms best he could, being squished with the two other fully grown men in the back seat. “Women.”

The two of you exchanged looks, rolling your eyes at the three pouting guys. “Men.”

*****************

“I’m gonna go check on the boys. But I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, looking through her closet. No dresses. And absolutely no heels. Flats, if you had to, but you’d definitely prefer sneakers right now. You decided on shorts and an off-the-shoulder blouse, grateful for the looser clothing.

“They’re idiots.”

You laughed and looked over at the door as Sharon entered. “Yeah. I know.”

“Cute.” She commented on your outfit, sitting on her bed. “They explained the situation. Sam said if I help, he’d clear my name-”

“Sharon.” You sighed, biting your lip. “I tried. I really did. I-”

She shook her head, smiling at you reassuringly. “No, I know. It’s why I’m not mad at you. Sorry I didn’t call back. How’ve you been?”

You shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”

“Even with the whole ‘Cap is back’ thing.”

“Walker’s the government’s pet. He’s not Captain America. He’s not…”

“Steve?”

Looking up at her from the ground, you nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you miss him?”

You smirked, wagging your eyebrows at her. “Do you?”

She rolled her eyes, tossing a pillow at you. “It’s kinda weird now, isn’t it?”

“Maybe a little. But I can’t blame you. Have you seen him shirtless? Good God.”

Sharon laughed, shaking her head as you joined her on the bed. “How come it’s always you getting wrapped up in these things?”

“I have no clue.” You chuckled, crossing your legs underneath you. “First I’m answering a phone call from Bucky at five in the morning and next thing I know, I’m being kicked off of semi trucks, breaking criminals out of prisons and running in six inch heels.”

“You answer Bucky’s calls at five in the morning?”

You gave her a look. “Sharon-”

“No, no. Hey. That’s cool. Some girls like bad boys, some like jocks, others like nerds. You like super soldiers from the 40’s. Everyone’s got a thing.”

A playful shove turned into a pillow fight, which turned into a sparring session, during which you pin her on her back. “You’re getting better.” You complimented, getting up.

She glared at you, taking your outstretched hand and letting you pull her up. “I guess that’s why you’re an Avenger.”

“That’s still weird to say.”

“Why? You’ve been an Avenger since, what? Ultron?”

You nodded, straightening your clothes. “Officially, anyways.”

“Right. Because you were there for the Battle of Manhattan as the secret seventh superhero.”

“Yeah…I miss it. The anonymity. I’m pretty sure I’m one half the Senators’ speed dials.”

Sharon frowned, brows pinching together. “What about the other half of the OG? Where are they?”

“Thor’s in space, Bruce is MIA - which I can’t really blame him for - and Clint’s retired with his family.”

“You think he’s gonna stay retired?”

You shrugged. “I hope he does. He’s been trying to retire for years. He deserves it. Knowing him, though…probably not.”

Sharon crossed her arms, nodding at you. “So that leaves you.”

“Yes it does.”

“Do you ever think of taking a break?”

You gave a half-sigh, half-groan, making her smirk in amusement. “It’s…come up a lot recently. I dunno. I think I’m burning out, anyways.”

“What makes you say that? I was watching you guys with Selby. You’re still one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“I-I’ve been having…problems.”

Her eyes narrowed, her hands setting on her hips like a mother about to scold her child. “What kind of problems?”

“Just flashbacks. Of different things. It happens at random times. Certain triggers; something someone says or does, or something I smell or hear.”

“PTSD?”

“Something like that.”

“Has it affected you in the field?” Hesitating to answer was answer enough and she nodded. “Then…maybe it’s time you do start considering retiring.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “At 36? There’s no way.”

“C’mon. It’s not too late for you to settle down. Go one a few dates. Meet someone. Maybe have a couple kids-”

“Woah, woah. Slow your roll.” Your features scrunched up in incredulity. “Pump your breaks. No one said anything about marriage or kids.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying…think about it. I heard even Bucky’s been on a few dates.”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes at her, hearing the suggestive tone in her voice and seeing the eyebrow raise. “Yeah. He has. A few. I told him to. Told him it might be good for him to, I dunno, get back out there.

“Or, you could just…go out there with him.”

“Not you too! Have you been talking to Sam?”

“Is it Steve? Is that what’s stopping you? Because you know he’d just want you to be hap-” She stopped as he phone vibrated, grabbing it and reading the text. “Company’s arriving.” She pointed a finger at you. “You got very very lucky. This conversation isn’t over. I’m not dropping this.”

You bit your cheek and nodded. “Alright, mom. Can we go party now?”

She breathed out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go party.”

**********************

“Hey, gorgeous! There you are!”

You smirked at the boys as they met you near the top of the stairs, eyeing Sam and Bucky appreciatively. Damn, could Sam pull off a turtleneck. And Bucky in black and skinny jeans? Sharon sure had good taste. “Today’s the day for attractive outfits, huh, gentlemen?”

“I’ll say.” Bucky hummed, glancing at your own outfit. “You look beautiful, doll.”

“You look very dashing yourself, Barnes.” You grin, pulling at the lapels of his black blazer and fixing the collar. You smoothed your hand down the front of his shirt, looking up at him with an eyebrow raised when he caught your wrist, keeping your palm over his heart.

He clenched his jaw, taking a breath, before letting it out, almost dejectedly, and letting your hand go. “Um,” He cleared his throat, hand falling down by his side. “Did, uh, did Sharon say anything more about these friends of hers to you?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “Just told me to enjoy the party.”

“I guess we should go enjoy the party, then.” Sam nodded towards the stairs, where the music was floating up, her guests already pouring in.

You made your way downstairs, looking around the room. Sharon sure did know how to throw one, that’s for sure.

People were pushed together, dancing to the beat of the music, drinking, with colored lights flashing every which way. Bucky’s hand found yours almost instantly, and you smiled at him. “C’mon.”

“What?” His eyes were wide as you dragged him towards the groups of people dancing. 

“Dance with me.”

He shook his head violently. “I-I can’t.”

“I thought you used to be a dancer?”

“Used to. And I was a swing-dancer. Not…” He gestured around to the people bobbing up and down, moving their bodies with each other.

You waved dismissively, pulling him closer. “All you need to do is feel the beat. I’m sure you can do that, can’t you, Mr. Tough and Scary Assassin?”

He licked his lips, looking around nervously. You brought his hands to your hips, making his eyes snap back to yours, your own arms winding around his neck. You started moving rhythmically, nodding your head to the music, smiling up at him and giggling at the adorable concentration on his face.

“You, uh, you go to parties like this a lot?”

“I specialized in undercover operations, remember? I practically lived at these places for some of them.” He licked his lips, his grasp on your hips tightening. “Loosen up a little.” You laughed, catching his jaw between your fingers and making him look at you instead of the crowd surrounding him. You scratched at the scruff, speaking softly, but loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and, slowly, a bit hesitant, started moving his body with yours, relaxing his tense muscles the longer you two danced.

“Nice hit, by the way. With Zemo earlier.”

You shrugged, turning in his arms, biting your lip when he pulled you closer, your back to his chest. “I didn’t like the way he grabbed you. It was unnecessary. I was thinking of making a list, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Your arms wound around his neck again, your head falling back to his shoulder. “Of things he’s done so far that warrant’s me beating his ass once this is done.”

He chuckled, warm breath tickling your cheek, thumbs tracing circles on the bare skin just above the waistline of your shorts. Your own fingers had found home in his hair holding his head where it was, his lips centimeters away from your ear. “Share it with Sam. I’m sure he has a few things to add.”

Your breath hitched as his metal fingers danced along your bare navel, arm tightening around your waist. “I’m sure he does…I thought you said you can’t dance.”

“I guess I just needed to warm up. I’m a bit rusty after eighty years.”

“Don’t seem that rusty to me.” You breathed out, turning your head to look at him. His tongue ran across his lips again, his eyes glancing to your own.

“Hey, guys!” The world and your situation came crashing down on you, the music you didn’t realize you’d been tuning out, along with the crowd’s boisterous laughter and cheers, rushed back to yours ears. The little bubble with just you and Bucky shattered. You both stepped away from each other; you cleared your throat and pushed down the heat that had nothing to do with the hundred bodies in the one room, while Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears red with no help from the colored lights. Both of you were panting lightly, avoiding eye contact with the other three staring knowingly at you. Sharon nodded her head, gesturing behind her. “I found him.”

Sam nudged Bucky - who was staring at you, his jaw ticking and his throat tightening as he swallowed thickly - before jabbing his thumb in Sharon’s direction. “Here we go.”

You nodded, eyeing Bucky with a small smile. “Here we go, Buckaroo.”

[honeypiehotchner]

Don’t You (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part two of Bye Bye, Baby

I love how this mini-series was totally impromptu but happened so fast. Gotta love my brain!

Loosely based on “Don’t You” by Taylor Swift! xx.

Summary: Aaron wants to talk. Do you?

Warnings: ANGST

Word Count: 2k this time oop

Bye Bye, Baby (Part One) || That’s When (Part Three) || Hotch Masterlist

Hey/I knew I’d run into you somewhere/It’s been a while

The text message from Aaron has sat glaring at you on your phone screen for the past hour.

Hotch (BAU) Sorry for hitting you with my cart earlier.

You don’t know what to make of it. It’s obviously an attempt to start up a conversation after four years, but why? Why, after all this time, does he think this is okay?

It’s 1 a.m. when you call Dannie.

“I would tell you to go to sleep, but I just got in bed, so I can’t talk.”

You chuckle quietly. “Better than me. I’m still on the couch.”

Dannie exhales. “Did Jules stay up late again?”

“No, no, she… She passed out around nine.”

Dannie sighs. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I saw Aaron today,” you blurt, quietly, not wanting to risk Juliet hearing even a whisper of this.

“Aaron?” Dannie asks. “Like...Juliet’s dad, Aaron? That one?”

“Yep,” you mutter, rubbing your forehead. “The one and only.”

“Where?”

“The grocery store,” you say. “Our carts bumped into each other. I wasn’t watching where I was going, so it was definitely my fault, but he texted me a while ago apologizing for it.”

“Woah, he texted you?”

“Unfortunately,” you murmur, hating that you feel tears pricking at your eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you texted him back?”

“I don’t know if I want to.”

“I understand,” Dannie sighs. “Maybe just say it’s okay? Leave it short.”

“Yeah,” you nod, sniffling, wiping a tear away. “God, I’ve been fine all evening and it just...hit me when I saw his text.”

“You had to keep it together for Jules,” Dannie reminds you. “What did she say about him?”

“Oh, nothing,” you say. “She really wanted cookies, so she was focused on getting vegetables for dinner so she could have them.”

Dannie laughs. “That sounds like her. Did she eat all her vegetables?”

“Even the broccoli,” you grin. “So she got an extra cookie.”

The two of you laugh lightly, letting the silence settle.

“What do I do if he wants to get to know her?” You break the silence with the one question that’s been on your mind all night. “I mean, he’s a profiler. There’s no way he doesn’t know she’s his.”

“Okay, first of all, she’s yours,” Dannie says firmly. “Second, it’s all up to you. And her. If she wants to get to know him, then ultimately it’s up to you to decide if that’s a good idea and where would be safest for it to happen, if you want it to.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t stress about it tonight,” she says quietly. “Text him back in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Want to surprise Jules with brunch tomorrow?”

You smile almost immediately. “Of course.”

+++

You wake from a restless sleep to Juliet climbing into bed with you.

“Good morning, munchkin,” you whisper, kissing her forehead. She’s still sleepy and will probably sleep for another hour in your arms, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

As expected, Juliet falls fast asleep with her head on your chest. While she’s snoring softly, you grab your phone and text Dannie about brunch. And that’s when you’re reminded of Aaron’s text.

Quickly, before you can think twice, you reply. It’s okay.

And you move on to text Dannie, letting her know you’re awake and so is Juliet. After making plans to meet for brunch in an hour and a half, you lightly shake Juliet awake.

“Psst, munchkin,” you murmur. “Wanna have brunch with Dannie?”

Juliet pops her head up almost instantly. “Really?”

“Really really,” you nod.

She grins wide and your chest aches for a moment. She’s always had his smile, but you never realized how much it’s his smile until today.

Juliet scrambles off your bed to get dressed, and you take a deep breath before getting up, too.

+++

The entire day passes without a reply from Aaron. You don’t know what to make of it, but you do your best to ignore it.

Thoughts of him keep you awake almost all night, so by the next morning, you’re dying to get your coffee before you walk into work.

You drop Juliet off at daycare, then park your car at work, with somehow enough time to spare to walk to your favorite coffee shop before clocking in.

You spot Aaron as soon as you walk in.

“You better not be following me around,” you mutter as you stand in line behind him.

He spins around, his face softening when he recognizes you. “Hi. I’m not trying to, I promise.”

You nod slowly.

Don’t you/Don’t you smile at me and ask me how I’ve been

“How are you?” He asks hesitantly, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Good,” you reply. “You?”

“Good,” he pauses. “Busy.”

“Me too.”

The awkward small talk is ended by the line moving forward, putting Aaron at the front. He orders his usual, and steps aside. You order your usual, with a pastry, too, as a sort of condolences gift to yourself for the bullshit you’re enduring.

When you step to the side to wait, Aaron tries again.

“Sorry again for hitting you in the store with my cart,” he says. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s okay,” you say, keeping your eyes away from his. “In your defense, I wasn’t paying attention either.”

He chuckles quietly and the sound sends a dagger right to your heart.

When his coffee is ready, he grabs it, and you internally beg him to leave without another word. But he doesn’t.

Sometimes I really wish I could hate you/I’ve tried, but that’s just something I can’t do

“This is probably too forward of me, but—”

Your coffee is up.

You step forward to grab it, and damn you, you look at him to ask him to continue.

“Can we talk?” Aaron finishes.

“Right now?” You question, following him to the door. He holds it open for you and you hate that you almost smile. “I have to get to work.”

“Me too,” he says, stopping on the sidewalk with you. “We could get dinner tonight.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” he nods. “No pressure. Just text me if you want to.”

“Okay,” you exhale shakily. “See you.”

You turn on your heel and nearly sprint down the sidewalk, chest heaving and tears welling in your eyes.

+++

“What do you want to do?” Dannie asks.

You met her for lunch to discuss your encounter with Aaron this morning, and so far you still don’t know what the hell you’re going to do.

“I want to tell him to leave me alone and never come near me again,” you blurt, but then you sigh. “I don’t mean that.”

Dannie smiles sadly. “I know.”

You don’t/You don’t know how much I feel I still love you

“I think I want to talk to him, but...I don’t know, I’m scared. I don’t think I can do a dinner. I’m sick to my stomach just thinking about this and I mean...I hate that I still love him. After all this I can’t even hate him.”

“It’s hard to hate someone you love.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Wanna help me text him?”

“Of course.”

After some trial and error, you and Dannie settle on this message.

Hey. I’d like to talk, but not dinner. What about a walk instead?

Aaron replies quickly.

Hotch (BAU) That’s perfect. Where is best?

+++

The park you chose is, regrettably, the one where you and Aaron had your first date.

In your defense, it’s closest and safest. And quiet.

Aaron doesn’t seem to mind the location, though, when he walks toward you. You’re sitting on a park bench, one that must be new because you don’t remember it.

As he gets closer, you see he has two cups of coffee in hand.

“I got your usual,” he says softly. “If you want.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking it from him, careful not to let your fingers touch.

Hesitantly, he sits next to you.

The two of you sit in silence for a while. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, and apparently, neither can he.

After too long, though, you break the silence. “Ready to walk?”

“Sure,” he replies, standing with you.

You venture down the trail, grateful that you changed into your sneakers before coming. It takes another few moments before the silence is broken -- by Aaron this time.

“Is she mine?”

You sigh heavily. You should’ve known he’d ask that first.

“Technically, Juliet is mine,” you reply. “But you are the father, if that’s what you’re asking.” You pause. “You’re the only one I was with, so there’s no doubt.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” he says quietly. You can tell he’s looking at you, but you don’t look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried,” you admit. “I called three times. I got your voicemail.”

Once: When you decided officially to keep the baby. You were three months pregnant. You had almost thought he picked up when the line clicked, and then you heard his voicemail. You hung up and took a bath instead, phone forgotten in the living room.

Twice: Dannie was beside you. You were seven months then. You had caved and asked if it was a boy or girl. After hearing it was a girl, a part of you desperately wanted to tell Aaron. You remembered him saying he always wanted a baby girl. Your heart still ached from when he broke it, but you wanted to tell him. You got his voicemail.

The third time: You had just given birth. You named her Juliet. You wanted to tell Aaron. You wanted to know if he should be on the birth certificate. You wanted to tell him you had a baby girl. When he didn’t answer, the nurse gave you a sad smile, and left the line blank. Dannie held Juliet for a while so you could cry.

“You never left a message,” he replies, sounding offended.

“Did you really want me to break the news in a voicemail?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “But you could’ve said it was something important. I would’ve returned your call.”

“I called three times,” you remind him. “You’re a fucking profiler, Aaron. You think three calls meant it was unimportant?” You pause, grounding yourself. “I figured you were out on a case. I don’t blame you for that. I understand, I’ve been there. But after calling three times and not getting a single reply, I figured it was useless. I didn’t have the time or energy to worry about it anymore. I had a newborn to take care of.”

He’s silent for a while.

“How is she?”

“She’s fine. She’s with her Godmother. Probably watching Frozen.”

“That’s good.”

You can’t do this anymore. “If that’s all you wanted to ask, then I need to get going. No offense, but I really don’t have the time for small talk.”

“I understand, but…” He stops walking, staring down at his feet before locking eyes with you. “Would you— Would you be willing to give me a second chance?”

Don’t you/Don’t you say that you miss me if you don’t want me again

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, angry tears pricking your eyes. “Why?”

“I’d like to be a part of Juliet’s life. And yours. If you’ll let me.”

“I’ll ask her,” you reply. “But you can be a part of her life without being a part of mine.”

“You know that’s not true,” he says. “You chose this park for a reason today.”

“No, I chose it because it’s close,” you hiss. “Don’t you dare profile me. Don’t you dare.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and for a second you think he might have tears in his eyes, too. “I’m sorry, you’re right, that was uncalled for.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “I really do need to go.”

“Can I at least walk you to your car?”

After a moment of thought, you nod. “Sure.”

My heart knows what the truth is/I swore I wouldn’t do this

[michizumi]

Untold Thoughts

Theme: Romance

Pen Name: ALAS

Luna is in her second year of junior high school. She loves spending her time reading books with a theme of romance. Reading those books affected her standards and they became so high. One time at school, she saw a guy, white-skinned, good-looking, and at least inches taller than her. She got attracted to him immediately, Luna just saw the guy she never knew would play a vital role in her life. With Luna's luck, she found the name of the guy through the help of her friend who is also a friend of the guy that Luna saw. Luna's friend became the middleman for them to get in touch. Luna's friend refers her to the guy, the guy's name is Ali.

Luna did the first move, she also told her feelings to Ali.

"Hi Ali, I just wanna express my appreciation... I have a crush on you." Enthusiastically, says Luna.

"Really? Thanks for being honest, appreciate it " Ali gently responded.

Ali responds and he acknowledges Luna's courage to confess but he seems not interested. Ali tried to push Luna through the stories of him being wicked in his past relationship, but it didn't work on Luna, and she simply decided to embrace everything about Ali and it only turned on Luna for sharing his honest behavior. They continue the conversation until late at night. After that night Luna continues having a conversation with Ali even though Ali is not interested in her. Luna gave Ali constant attention for almost four months until they got to their third year of junior high school. The conversation flows from Luna every night, asking him how his day was, and continue knowing each other every single day. As the months passed Luna got tired and lost hope that Ali would reciprocate her feelings.

The constant conversations became alternate, three times a week, twice a week, and even once a month.

Luna still has her feelings but she loses every bit of hope in her. Luna stops making conversations with him without knowing that Ali slowly develops his feelings and gets attached to her. Ali never got a chance to confess because he can't believe that he will develop anything for her.

Ali let the conversations burn out as he thought that his feelings will also ride to it, but it's the other way around. Luna stops and after a month Ali got the feeling that he is missing Luna's presence. Even without communication, their feelings grow without them knowing it. They start to miss each other until one of them did the first move. The final quarter of their third year in junior high school is coming to an end, and surprisingly Ali decided to shoot his shot before the school year ends. Ali confesses his feelings to Luna.

"Luna! I don't want to lose this chance, I like you." Ali's tense expression.

"Oh. I never... knew this day would come." Flattered response from Luna.

"Shall we take all of this to another level?" Ali asked.

"Ali, I... I don't see that as our option for now."

Luna's mixed emotions made her speechless, after a few minutes Luna responds to Ali's question with a deep breath. Luna denied the offer, throughout the months without having a conversation with Ali, Luna had a realization that she wasn't ready to handle a serious relationship, hence there is no other choice for her other than not entering from any. But Luna got driven by her overwhelming excitement, and they took it to the other level. But not an official couple, instead a two young teens with endearment but don't have a commitment to each other. They are fine and contented with what they have. At first, their relationship flows smoothly, until different challenges start to get in their way. Luna is currently struggling with her family. Throughout Luna and Ali's relationship, Luna's overwhelming feelings about everything that is happening to her are constantly rising to the point that she thinks that she doesn't deserve to be with Ali.

One day Luna just disappeared, delivered messages from Ali, no texts, no replies, no posts, even inactive on social media from Luna. Ali was desperate, but all he could do was wait. Ali continues leaving messages to Luna for days, over and over, every single day until the day that he's the one who got tired and lost hope. Ali just gave up, he accepted that Luna abandoned everything, Luna left Ali without handling any reason, she left him with confusion.

After a month, surprisingly Luna came back. Luna approached Ali via chat and tried to explain herself as well as gave him an apology. Ali responded like it was fine and seemingly didn't affects him but inside him, it was the other way around. Luna also expressed that she missed Ali, and Luna asked him if his feelings for her are still there, but Ali didn't respond and their conversation gets awkward and it ended with a goodnight greeting.

That's their last conversation before the first half of the year ended. After months, their fourth and last year at junior high school started. And after months of no communication, Luna suddenly remembered Ali and decided to approach him. It's just the same as their last conversation, awkward and he just misses being with Ali. The year ended, and as the second month of the year started, Luna decided to approach Ali again. Like before, it's awkward and Ali is confused why Luna keeps doing this.

"Hello, Ali it's me...again., " Luna said.

"Ohh...Hi?" Ali's wondering reply.

"Just missing us, and just want you to know that nothing has changed... I still like you" Gently said of Luna.

"Like?" Ali's response.

Luna did not care to explain what she means, and she's not expecting reciprocation anymore because of what she has caused to Ali. Their conversation did not take that long. After that they continue to live their separate lives. Ali focuses on improving himself, Luna on the other hand also focuses her perspective on improving and reflecting on everything, as well as serving in the church. They became busy on their own, Ali moved on while Luna thought she did.

After two years, Luna and Ali are in their last year of senior high school. One day, Luna's at peace and was browsing her social media when she saw a picture of Ali posted by their mutual friend. Her feelings and everything just merges out of nowhere, feelings that she never knew would stay that long. Luna is deliberating about everything, she's confused about her feelings, then she realized that she never really let go of those, and she simply got distracted. After she concluded everything Luna decided to make things right and start over with Ali again. But Luna received an information, and everything just collapsed. Ali is currently in a relationship with someone, and Luna's hope was destroyed. She is left with no choice but to keep her feelings on her own.

She just believes that Ali deserves peace. Since then, she's been handing her feelings and untold thoughts of her through posts and blogs. Luna keeps admiring, grasping Ali from afar, wondering if someday, the tables of chances will turn on his way again.

By The Rails

Themes: Romance, Slice of Life

Pen Name: Michizumi

The pitter patter of the rain was the only thing that was heard. The sky was dark. The road was silent. The splash of footsteps coming from behind drew closer. Sora felt a wave of exasperation when she felt arms wrap around her.

“Hey. Going home so soon? Classes just ended, how about we hang out together?”

It was Xian. Xian was someone she met when they were in 8th grade. After their first encounter, on that day by the railings on the roof, he declared that he was going to be his bestest friend that will always be by her side.

They walked along the road going to one of the cafes near the campus. It was a comfortable and silent walk until Xian broke the comfortable silence.

“Shall we share an umbrella?” he asked, Sora stopped walking when she heard the question and looked back to see Xian sheepishly smiling.

“Uh, never-” “Ok.”

He looked like he was shocked by the answer but quickly folded his umbrella, took mine and we shared. When we reached the cafe, it was bustling with people doing their own business. We decided to just go home since the dorm was just a walking distance away. We passed by a train station on the way and Xian stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Sora asked Xian with concern.

“It’s nothing. I just remembered something.” He smiled again like it really was nothing and we crossed the rails.

Sora knew that it really wasn’t nothing as it was one of the not-so-nice memories of their second meeting.

The two went ahead without looking back.

Xian held her hand tightly after passing that place. He remembered it like it was just yesterday. The day that Sora almost died. He didn’t know if he'd ever come to terms to losing her again.

He lost her once, it was also by the rails, however it was on the rails of a rooftop. He was too late to reach out his hand as she fell on the tall roof. He knew that no matter what lifetime he meets her, there will always come a time that she will die out of her volition. This was the 8th time that she met her again and was able to successfully save her before her death.

He was brought out of his reverie as they reached the door of her dorm. While she was reaching for the key to her dorm, he hugged her tightly from behind.

“Xian? I won’t be able to find my key at this rate.” She sweat-dropped and reached out to him to remove his arms but her hands stopped mid-air when he uttered his words.

“Just a little longer please?” he pleaded.

They stayed like that for minutes and Xian broke away with a grin.

“Ok. I'm done! Have a good night, Sora.” she smiled and bid him a good night as well.

When she closed the door, she plopped down the ground with a hand to cover her face. Her face was a blushing mess after the hug.

“What was up with that?!” She screamed.

She can feel her ears burn as she remembered what he said when he tightly hugger her.

“If I could hold you like this again and again, the suffering I went through will not compare to the happiness I feel when I’m with you.”

[harry-writings]

We’ll Be Alright

The one where Harry and Y/n have a hard time coping without one another, and Harry finally understands what it means to be a husband

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

How to support me <333

-

Y/n knows she’s hit rock bottom when she pours her fifth glass of whiskey at three in the morning, lighting up her seventh cigarette on her bedroom balcony, as if furthering herself away from her right state of mind will somehow bring her closer to all the answers she had been looking for.

She doesn’t even smoke.

The last time she came this close to a cigarette was five months before she found out she was pregnant with Topher. It was the third time Harry didn’t show up to marriage counseling, and Y/n was so upset and so angry and so hurt that she couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop crying until it was in her hands.

This time, though, the shaking and the crying don’t stop.

She’s sitting on one of the balcony chairs, her elbows propped up on her knees, one hand resting at the roots of her hair and the other holding her glass in her palm and her cigarette between her fingers. Her leg is bouncing and her eyes are wet, zoning herself out from the rest of the world, trying to get as far away from herself as possible.

She hasn’t seen Harry in thirteen days.

Not only has she not seen Harry, but she also hasn’t talked to Harry or had any ties left to Harry for nearly two weeks now and Y/n can barely hold herself together anymore. She’s surprised she’s even gotten this far without him.

They aren’t divorced — the papers were left on the courtroom table practically untouched, and though she hates to admit it to herself, Y/n was the first to leave them behind — but they might as well have been.

He wasn’t even the one to pick up Topher today. And she didn’t realize how much she’d miss their traditions — even the ones they’ve made while being separated — until she saw Mitch standing at the other side of her door and watched as he buckled her son into the same carseat Harry once had in his car.

It was at that moment that she knew that even though they weren’t divorced, they really were over, and it was enough to push her over the edge.

Now she’s so drunk she can barely remember where she is. The skyline and the buildings look familiar, but everything is so out of touch she can’t find the same peace and comfort in it as she once used to.

Everything has faded to nothing.

And whether it’s from the alcohol, or the revisitation of bad habits, or if it’s from grieving the loss of somebody still alive, but everything to her feels numb. All that’s left is pain and sadness and the fear of living the rest of her life exactly like this — lost, hopeless, and alone.

She thinks back to the day she slept with Harry — as she does, she throws the last bit of whiskey down her throat and swallows it down without a flinch — and how that day was forever going to be the last day she had ever held him, had ever kissed him, had ever told him that she loved him.  

If she had known — really, really known — it was going to be her last chance to do any of those things, she wouldn’t have pushed him away. She would have done all the things Harry wanted — would have spent the rest of their day in bed, drinking wine, celebrating all that once was and what always could be.

Because that’s what she wanted, too. That’s what she’s wanted since the beginning of this mess they’ve made of themselves, she just didn’t ever want to admit it.

This feeling that burns in her stomach at the thought of not being with Harry makes her want to scream. She can’t escape it, even as the alcohol seeps into her bloodstream and takes away every other feeling in her body.

She sobs, her chin tucking into her chest and her palms pressing to her forehead, agonizing and inhumane cries falling past her lips.

Her Harry is no longer hers.

She squeezes her eyes shut, a puddle of tears falling down her cheeks as she does so, her hand dropping the whiskey glass, her cigarette left sparked on the balcony floor as her fingers twist and pull at her hair. She hunches over her knees, trying so desperately to put herself back together again.

But it’s impossible. She knows it’s impossible because it’s him that makes her whole — him that holds her and keeps her together, even when everything else around her is falling apart.

She’d do anything to feel his arms around her now.

And it’s all she can think about — how lonely and cold and frigid it feels without the feel of his touch, and how loud the silence is without the sound of his voice in her ear, telling her how in love with her he is, giggling at her blush.

And she’s had so much to drink she can trick her mind into believing that he’s here, if she thinks about it hard enough. She mistakes the wind for the feel of him walking past her, smells his cologne in the liquor, but it’s still too quiet for her to really, truly believe it.

And she just wants to believe it. For once, she wants to pretend that he’s here with her, loving her, wanting her the way he always used to. Even if it’s the wrong thing to do.

Her hand shakingly reaches for her phone.

“‘Ello, this is Harry! I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your call, but I promise to return to you whenever I’m next available. Thank you, talk soon! Bye.”

And oh, how good it feels to hear his voice again.

It brings her back to all the times she’d call Harry while he was away on tour and how every phone call lasted at least two hours. Whether it was to check up on him, or to wish him goodnight, or to have phone sex, he never failed to make every second they were spending apart feel so worth it.

She calls him six more times just to hear his voicemail.

By the seventh and last phone call, Y/n is so low she’s tempted to just finish it off — down the pack of cigarettes and the bottle of whiskey that have kept her more company than her husband. Maybe filling her void with vices will be enough to last her until the blackout, where she will finally be free.

But what will she have left if she does?

The loneliness and the sadness and the hopelessness will all still be there. She will still wake up to a cold bed, in an empty home, with nobody to share her life with. She will still have this sick and twisted feeling that happiness doesn’t exist outside of her Harry — that happiness doesn’t exist within these walls, miles away from him, with only herself to hold.

She can’t keep waking up without him anymore. She can hardly keep living.

So, she does the first and only thing that comes to her mind.

She calls Mitch.

The clock nearly at four in the morning doesn’t seem to strike her as her drunken fingers struggle to tap on his contact name, knowing that this is the only way.

“Mitch.” Y/n hiccups when he answers her call, watching as everything around her starts to spin out of her control, instinctively reaching her hand beside her to hold onto Harry’s — the way she always did whenever she got too drunk. Her heart hurts even worse than before when she’s met with nothing but the ache of what once was. “Come get me, please.”

Something in the air shifts around Mitch.

He has known Y/n for years now, yet he can barely recognize that it’s her voice on the phone. He has to look down at the name on his phone twice before pressing the speaker to his ear, his heart nearly still as he wonders the reason behind such a disturbing and unexpected request.

“Y/n… is everything alright?” He asks tentatively, carefully, because she’s never awake this late at night and has never sounded so hurt. “What’s happened, love?”

She wipes her nose with the back of her hand, sniffling, almost angrily.

“My husband’s been ignoring me for the past two weeks and I’m not —” She stops, sucking in a broken breath, not even believing the words she just spoke because she never believed he’d leave her all alone for so long. “I’m not taking it so well, obviously.”

Mitch sighs.

He should have known, from the second he saw the look on her face earlier that evening, that her night was going to end like this. The love she and Harry share is a kind he’s never seen before — something so far from ordinary, something he couldn’t even understand despite the love for his own girlfriend, who lays beside him so peacefully now.

Their love is more than love. It’s deeper, more soulful, as if they have found each other in every past life and every after life. They truly are, in the most unexplainable of ways, made for one another eternally. Forever, they are theirs.

It’s both a blessing and a curse — their preexisting connection— because they are everything together, but absolutely nothing apart.

“Y/n, love... he’s not ignoring you. He wouldn’t dream of it.”

Oh, how she wishes it was true.

“He didn’t even want to see me tonight. He sees me two days out of the week and he didn’t even want that. There was a time he’d do anything just to look at me for even a second.”

He wishes he knew what to say.

It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to see her — all he does is cry and whine and sulk about how he hasn’t — he just believes leaving Y/n alone is truly what’s best for her right now.

She has barely had any time away from him. Surely, she did have the weekdays to herself and Topher, but she still had to see him every weekend — still had to face him at her doorway; still had to be around him, even on her worst days; still had to be reminded of everything that had gone wrong.

Being around him confuses her. He knows that now, and so does Mitch. But Mitch always knew. Y/n has always been too in deep with Harry. One proper look at him would be enough to send her to her knees.

He’s her greatest weakness.

She needs to be alone.

Or, so he once thought.

“Have you been drinking?”

Y/n laughs in an almost sarcastic way, the side of her wrist pulling at the corner of her eye as she wipes away at her tears.

“Drinking, frying my brain with nicotine, crying my fucking eyes out.” Her lips tremble as she stuffles away a cry. “All of the above.”

Mitch frowns.

This behavior isn’t unusual for her — it hasn’t been since her marriage with Harry started to turmoil — but it never gets easier to witness.

It’s when she’s in the depths of her own hell that she depends on the intoxication to get her by, as if it numbed her from all the pain she’d be living with without it. And as hard as it is for him to admit it, she only ever feels this way whenever it comes to Harry.

This side of her never existed until she met him.

“You want to see him, don’t you?”

To see him. To touch him. To talk to him. To hold him. She wants it all, everywhere, for the rest of the night — for the rest of her life if he were to let her.

But she can’t get ahead of herself. She won’t be able to survive it if she does.

“Even if it’s just for a second.”

His heart falls.

“Will it get you to put down the drugs and alcohol?”

Her eyes linger at the nearly empty bottle of whiskey, and though it still calls for her just as strongly, she knows it’s not what she truly wants.

“Yeah.”

She can hear him smile softly through the phone.

“Then hang tight, love. I’m on my way.”

-

Harry hasn’t been able to sleep all night.

And if he wanted to get technical, he supposes he hasn’t been able to sleep since he and Y/n nearly signed their marriage away, but tonight is far, far worse than anything else he’s ever felt.

His body senses his good days. The sun somehow brighter, the rain lighter, the clouds thinner — he sees it all so differently on the days he goes to see Y/n. He’s used to the routine, he looks forward to it all week, even if it is just to see her for a couple minutes at her doorway.

So to say his body feels the loss of her is an understatement.

He caught himself reaching his hand over to her side of the bed one too many times, only to shiver and whine when met with the emptiness of it. His fingers would squeeze at her pillowcase, hugging it closer to him, fantasizing about her smell and her feel as he tried to drift into his dreamland — that only, of course, consisted of her.

But it was helpless.

He moves to the living room couch, where he finds himself flipping through the photo album of their wedding day — the same one he claimed he had thrown out when Y/n asked if she could keep it, moments before she was about to move out after he had brought the divorce papers home.

Of course he hadn’t thrown it out, but he could never tell Y/n about the lies he only told to make himself feel better about his decision.

He was angry and he was hurt, both of which consumed him in the scariest and most dangerous of ways, leading him to sink his teeth in a lie and spitting it in her face just to make her feel all those things, too. Though he’s sure she already did.

But as he flips through the pages now, reliving that day torturously in his head, remembering how beautiful she looked and how in love he was, he can’t help but feel like these moments weren’t his to take.

He had kept their home — had kept the furniture they bought together when they first moved in, kept all the movies and cd’s they’d play together each night, kept all the pictures she had chosen for the walls and tables he hadn’t had a clue on how to decorate.

He stayed so perfectly in their past while she was forced to move on, away from him, when she wasn’t even the one who wanted to leave.

He had truly taken everything from her — her love, her trust, her marriage, her home — and he didn’t even have the decency to give her the one and only thing she had asked for before she left.

That day was hers, it always has been and it always will be. She never once gave up on it the way he once had, always holding it so close to her, always cherishing its moments.

This simply doesn’t belong to him.

He presses his forehead down to a picture of Y/n wildly smiling at the camera, her hair styled up, makeup slightly smudged, as if holding her to him. And he rubs his thumb along the laminate, right against her cheek, in the same way she always liked.

“I’m so sorry.” He sobs out before he can try to reason that it’s not her, that she can’t hear him, that she can’t feel the way he’s holding and touching her right now, that he looks like a lovesick idiot for thinking this is anything close to the real thing.

None of that matters to him right now, though, as he holds the picture to him and realizes this is the closest he has been to her in so long. And she needs to know.

She just needs to know.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

-

Harry must have cried himself to sleep because the next thing he knows, his front door slams open against the foyer wall, julting him off of the photo album and leaving him with dry and confused eyes.

Without much of a second thought, he throws the photo album off his lap and stands frantically from the couch, his head twisting around in an attempt to follow the footsteps scurrying towards the living room.

He knows it’s her just from that sound alone.

“Y/n?” He calls out in question, still delusional from his sleeping state, wondering if he had even woken up at all.

But it’s when he sees her stumbling toward him with soaken and beaten eyes that he knows this isn’t just a dream — that she really is here, back in their home, with him at last. And he would be happy, would be so goddamn happy to have her in front of him again, if she didn’t look so broken.

He can’t stand the sight of her like this.

“Y/n?” He asks again, devastated.

But she doesn’t answer him. Rather, she does the one and only thing her mind can make sense of now that he’s in front of her again.

Her trembling hands cradle the back of his neck before pulling her to him, their lips meeting for a sloppy, drunken, frenzied kiss — one that nearly has Harry falling to his knees before her.

She pushes him onto the couch, barely giving him any time to compose himself before she sits herself down on his lap and kisses him again, hard — harder than before and harder than she ever has, she thinks.

Teeth clattering, tongues battling, mouths opening, lips smothering. It’s desperate and messy and sloppy, but she doesn’t want it any other way.

She knows this feeling. She wants this feeling. It’s what she keeps going back to because it’s safe and warm and familiar. She could be in the middle of nowhere, lost with no direction or any sense of belonging, yet the feel of his lips on hers would somehow make her feel at home, just the way she is.

She moans against him, her hands splayed on the back of his head and neck as if to keep him there — on her, with her.

His hands, however, don’t know where to go. They switch between her arms and her thighs, setting boundaries for himself because he’d give into her in a heartbeat if he were to touch her just right. And he’s already doing so much he shouldn’t, he’d ruin himself if he were to go any further.

So as a subtle way to slow it down, he drags his lips down to her chin before leaving open-mouthed kisses along the shape of her neck — devouring her taste, savoring the sweetness.

He’s missed this. He’s missed her, so much so he can’t even remember the reason he let it all go. Right now, in this moment, nothing seems worth it enough to ever give this up.

He can hardly think straight.

“Y/n, please don’t do this to me…” Harry whines against her collarbone, her touch and smell and feel overwhelming him beyond all forms of comprehension. “This isn’t you. We’ve been here before and —”

“And I want to make it right this time.”

He nearly cries.

He bites down gently on the base of her throat, nibbling at it, a strangled whine falling from his lips as his hands slither to her back, pushing his body up against hers as if to bring her closer. And he growls silently to himself as she starts grinding herself against him.

“Y/n —”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Baby…” He tries again, to which she giggles and smiles as she nibbles on the lobe of his ear. He gets lost in it for a moment — to hear her laugh, to feel her hands rub along his chest and up his neck, to have her so close, like nothing ever happened — but he snaps himself out of it just as quickly as he fell into it. “You’re drunk.”

He tries to reason, to make her see that he does want this, more than anything else in the world, but he can’t. Because if it were to happen again, he wants it to be real. He wants her to mean it, to need it, to be all in it with him the way he’s all in it with her.

He wants her to stay.

“I’m only drunk because I miss you so much.” She confesses breathlessly to him, to which he groans and throws his head back, as if he were in pain. “So give me what I want and nothing else will matter.”

His hands find purchase to her hips, his fingers squeezing at the flesh of them as he tries to steady the movement of her groin against his, desperate to hold himself together. But she makes it so hard when she knows exactly where and how to touch him — when she knows that he can never resist her all over him, begging for more.

His eyes are pinched forward and closed, his head still hanging off the edge of the couch, words seeming to fail him as she moans against his shoulder, sinking her teeth into the flesh of it as she works herself harder against him.

“Fuck, you know I want to.” He croaks out, his hands giving into their urge to wander every dip and curve and inch of her, even the places he shouldn’t. “You know I do.”

Good, she thinks. I want you to want it. I need you to want it. I want you to want it so bad you give it to me all night, all morning, all day. I need you to want me.

She lifts her head up from his shoulder so that she can look at him with a winning smirk, both of her hands fisting at the collar of his t-shirt to steady herself upon his lap, her movements now smooth and effortless, giving him everything he needs to give in.

He lets out a proper moan at this, allowing himself a moment of weakness to feed his undying greed.

His mouth hangs open and practically drools as he touches her in ways he’s been aching to, rubbing himself against her, allowing her lips to wander anywhere and everywhere they craved.

It all feels so good and all so right, he wishes it was enough to make things work, but he knows in his heart that it isn’t.

Not now, at least.

“But I can't — I can’t take advantage of you. I — oh, fuck!” He yelps from below her when her arm sneaks between them so her fingers can scratch at the skin of his upper inner thigh, mercilessly giving him everything that has ever made him feel good.  

And it’s all too much.

One more right touch in the right place and he’s done for, as pathetic and weak as that makes him. But it’s only for her. Only for her does he find himself shuddering and moaning and creeping on the edge for, one push away from falling off, waiting to be caught by her.

After all this time, after all they had been through — all the fighting, all the tears, all the downs and lows they’ve lost themselves in — she still consumes him whole. She still is and forever will be the only person he’ll ever love like this.

There is nothing and nobody else. There is only her.

Which is why he can’t let himself do it. He can’t let her do it.

So right before he reaches the end, his hands frantically grab onto hers and pin them down against each side of his legs, her forehead meeting his shoulder, her body collapsing onto his.

“No!” He bites through clenched teeth and shut eyes, his hands squeezing hers as his body ricochets back to reality, yet still holding her close. “No, no, fuck. No.”

And whatever remained of Y/n’s heart burns to a crisp at that one godforsaken word.

Harry never denies her.

Even at their lowest and darkest moments, her simple touch made him powerless. He succumbed to her even when he told himself he wouldn’t, gave into her touch like a drug he couldn’t get off of no matter how hard he tried, drowned in her love even when he swore he no longer craved it.

It’s the very reason Y/n found herself pregnant in the midst of their downfall. Harry never stopped wanting her.

She should have known that everything was different now, but she never expected it to be like this.

“Oh.” Y/n’s lips tremble, her eyes wide with woe, glossy with burning tears as she looks at him through slow blinks. “I get it, I —”

“Y/n…”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have — I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.”

She’s nearly sobbing now, her breaths heavy and frantic as she pushes herself away from him, practically falling off of his lap. And if his head wasn’t so clouded from what had just happened between them, he wouldn’t have let her go.

She’s a mess, a kind he’s never seen in her before and it breaks him in two when he sees her face soaked in tears, her hands trembling as they push her hair back, her eyes looking at everything but him.

He is just so sick of her looking away from him, and so tired of watching her cry.

He never wanted this.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Harry speaks softly, his hand reaching out to grab ahold of hers before she has the chance to walk out on him again. And the shock of his touch is enough to bring her right back to him. “Baby, this is your home more than it is mine. Your son is here, I am here, don’t ever think you have to be sorry for wanting to come home.”

She’s silent for a moment, trying to make sense of his words and what they mean. But it’s so hard to focus on anything other than how good it feels to be holding his hand, and how that’s all it took to get the room to stop spinning around her.

She trusts him.

Whatever he wants out of this and whatever he’s thinking, she trusts. Her body wouldn’t be so reliant on him if she didn’t. And it’s been years since she’s felt this feeling she feels so fiercely now, but she could never mistake it. It was once the most familiar feeling in the world to her.

He rubs at her knuckles, patiently waiting for her to respond. But she doesn’t, her gaze just drunkenly fixated at their intertwined fingers, a hint of longing in her eye.

Even when he’s right here, holding her, convincing her to stay… she still feels as though he isn’t all hers. She wants more of him, as if she hasn’t seen and touched and loved every inch of his body and claimed every last beat of his heart.

She is the only one and yet she feels as though she’ll never be enough for him, after all this time, after all these years spent together. It makes him feel like the worst person in the world.

He lifts her hand up to his lips, as delicate and gentle as possible, just the way she likes.

“And as for kissing me.” He adds, eyes looking up fondly at her as he kisses at her knuckles one by one. “You’re my wife, it’s what I want. I just don’t want us to make the same mistakes we once did.”

He settles her fingers against his mouth for a moment longer before pulling her closer to where he sits, looking insistently in her hopeful eyes.

“If we sleep together… it’ll only drive us more apart, just like it did the last time. And I swear to god —” he hangs his head off the edge of the couch again, his fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose, trying to fathom the idea of it. “If I have to go another day without seeing you, I’m going to fucking lose it. I’m fucking miserable.”

She knows it’s true. Whether she wanted to hear it or not, sleeping together without speaking to one another would only bring them back to the same dark, numbing cycle they’ve been through for far too long now.

But she wants to milk it — wants him to do whatever he can to get her to stay because she needs to know he really wants it, needs to know he really wants her, before it’s too late.

And when Harry lifts his head back up to look at her, his heart nearly explodes from within him.

“Come here.” He tugs softly on her hand, a small smile playing on his lips when he sees Y/n pouting down at him with furrowed brows — the same face she used to make whenever she wanted to be angry with him, but couldn’t. It brings him back to all their happiest times. “Come here!”

He pulls her down to him until she lands on his lap, both of them laughing as she nearly trips over her own two feet.

The moment stills when their eyes meet, however, the giggling dying down and their smiles falling as they captivate each other with just a single look.

His fingers move her hair out of her face, his palm resting on the side of her cheek, his thumb rubbing along the skin of her blush as he admires just how beautiful she’s gotten since the last time he had seen her.

And she does the same to him — her fingers pulling at his hair, dancing along his scalp, humming in admiration as her eyes wander every dip and curve of his face. He is just so perfect, it endlessly mesmerizes her.

“I’ve missed you.” She confesses softly, her gaze trained on his lips, her tongue poking out to lick her own.

“I’ve missed you so much more, my love.”

And they meet for a kiss — a real kiss this time. Not the hungry, desperate, fevered kisses they’ve been sharing since their separation. It’s slow, their lips just settling against each other’s, refusing to move, only leaning in deeper when desired.

It’s how he kissed her on their wedding day.

She remembers how different it was, now, as she feels it again — full of vows and promises, hopes and dreams, a hint of sorrow for all the times he had let her down, and how he’d never wish to do it again.

Quite truthfully, she never wants it to end. She could stay pressed against his lips like this all night and never once get tired of it — would probably beg for more if it ever came down to it. But she doesn’t have to anymore, she knows that now.

They both pull away together, dopey and loopy smiles painted on their faces. And it doesn’t get better than this.

“Can I show you something?” He whispers to her, his thumb pets at her temple, circles and circles. “And know that when I give it to you, it’s me trying to make this right again? No matter how much it hurts?”

His breath falters when her lips press gently against his wrist, humming a small “mhm” against the skin of it.

She always did that whenever she could. Whether he be holding her cheek, or rubbing at her head, or running his fingers through her hair, her lips would seek just the smallest bit more of him. And it always warmed him to feel it. It reminded him that yes, she did in fact love him and want him and need him with the same burning he has for her.

It always felt too good to be true.

And to know that she’s feeling it all over again makes every worry in the world collapse around him, leaving him with nothing but the life he had always desired with her, and the hope that it only gets better from here.

He smiles in endearment, his own lips seeking the sole of her cheek before he turns his body to the fallen photo album, his fingers shaking as he reaches for it.

She gasps before he even has the chance to sit up fully.

“Is that —” she stops before she finishes, her hand flying over her suddenly trembling lips because it is.

He looks at her with eyes full of regret as he holds the photo album out for her to take, but she’s in too much shock. All she can process is that it’s here, still alive in the home they once shared, not shredded and burned and broken like she always thought it was.

And it just doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that over a year ago, he told her a lie that ripped her apart from the inside out every day since he’d spoken it. It doesn’t matter that all she had left of their wedding were the moments captured in her memory, to which she went back to every night before bed.

It just doesn’t matter because she’s just so happy to see it again — so, so, so fucking happy that she can’t help but sob into her palm, admiring it, somehow at peace with the idea of reuniting with it with her husband right beside her, shedding the same tears as she is.

All she has ever wanted is happening all at once, and she couldn’t ask for more.

“Can we look through it?” She sniffles, her fingers graciously running along the cover of it.

He pulls her in closer, his head nodding, a breathy laugh of euphoria falling from his lips.

As if she even had to ask.

-

It was the next morning that Harry decided he couldn’t do it anymore.

Upon waking up to an empty bed, there wasn’t this overwhelming sense of sadness rippling through him, or loneliness drowning him to his duvets, refusing to set him free. It felt… right, and warm, and safe, and like it had always meant to be this way.

He was weightless as he carried his naked body over to his dresser, where he slipped on a new pair of briefs and one of his plain white t-shirts. He even found himself humming a tune he only ever sang to on good mornings.

And it was when he made his way downstairs that he started to hear his company.

He found Y/n in his day old t-shirt, holding Topher at her hip, flipping pancakes at the stovetop, humming and bouncing to the beat of a song they played during their wedding ceremony.

Her hair was unbrushed, her nail polish chipped, one of her socks pulled too high and the other too low, in her most hungover state. And the world stopped turning then, it seemed. Because it was the most simple and most casual sight to see, yet something he was once so blinded to.

He finally felt at home.

And it was as if nothing else had ever really, truly mattered. His world simply revolved around the two littles ones in his kitchen, getting their hands messy with pancake batter, giggling with every other step they took.

And he knew he couldn’t do it anymore.

Which is exactly how he ended up here — seven hours later, standing on one knee in front of his wife, whose hand fits so perfectly in his.

She sits cross-legged upon the kitchen chair, her plate half empty and on her second glass of her mocktail. And if he had more preparation, he would have taken her out instead of settling for her favorite home cooked meal. But something about doing this here, in the home they once shared together, at their happiest hour, feels much more real to him.

“H? What are you doing?” Y/n asks with wide eyes, looking down at their intertwined hands, squeezing onto his tighter.

“I know we’re already married, but I needed to do this anyway.”

He sucks in a breath as the pad of his thumb passes through her knuckles, slightly flicking her engagement ring in the process.

“When I left earlier, it wasn’t for work. I mean, it was for work but not — but not in the way you may think.”

Y/n tilts her head down at him, her eyebrows furrowed. Her heart races with all the endless possibilities, the pit in her stomach falling with it. And she really does try to not seem worried, but she can’t help but let it crash over her.

She had just gotten her husband back. Finally, she’s his and he’s hers and that’s all she ever wanted. That’s all she ever needed, so how is she expected to say goodbye so soon?

How would she ever survive it?

“I terminated the contract.”

Her heart stops beating.

Her body sits frozen still as Harry bites at his bottom lip, where he hides a smile.

This truly is it — the beginning of their forever, the start to the life they always wanted to share alone, with no distractions, no obligations, no anything besides each other and their child — and he doesn’t want it any other way.

“I’m done with having a career that takes me away from you. And I’m so sick and tired of pretending like this is the life I wanted to have with you. It wasn’t, baby. It isn’t.”

But she just can’t believe what she’s hearing.

The words had translated yet somehow, she can’t make sense of them. She can’t make sense of anything as her mind twists and turns around what they could mean and what it could mean for them as a couple.

“You — you terminated the contract? I don’t — I don’t understand. I —”

"If it were ever to come down to you or my music, I’d choose you in a heartbeat.” The fingers of his free hand twist at her wedding band, hypnotizing her. “I did it all for you — the writing, the touring, the traveling. My future with you was all I ever cared about and yet, I had somehow convinced myself that my music meant more to me, when it never really did.”

Her breaths get deeper and deeper, completely and utterly overwhelmed. And if it weren’t for the tears of happiness leaking from her eyes, Harry wouldn’t know what she’s truly feeling inside.

But he knows. Oh, how he knows.

“I choose you, Y/n. And I choose Topher and I choose our Alaskan home everyday for the rest of our lives. That’s what I choose. That’s what I will always choose.”

It’s those words that make her really start to lose it.

How long she had been waiting for this moment, she can’t even remember anymore. So much time has passed and yet everyday, she dreamed and hoped and prayed and died to hear him say that to her.

She had been waiting for so long, she once believed them to be impossible.

But here he is on one knee again, sacrificing his entire life and heart and soul just to make their marriage right. He wants to leave the music behind rather than leaving her to be all alone. He wants to move away from the life he had built for himself and rather spend the rest of it with her.

He wants her, for the first time in what feels like centuries, he finally wants her.

“But — but you — how? How did you — what did you do?”

“Don’t worry about the how, okay? What matters is that I made it work and I have more than enough to last our family a lifetime. I promise you that.”

One of her hands reaches forward to cup at his cheek, pulling herself closer to him because she needs to feel him, all of him — needs to feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart, the warmth of his breath.

She needs it all, all around her, until she drowns in it.

“Don’t care about the money, just — just want to make sure you’re okay.”

His wife is reaching for him, pulling him in, wanting and loving him despite everything he put her through… how could he not be okay?

He’s on top of the world right now.

“Baby, I’m so much more than okay. I have you, don’t I?” She nods her head as she wipes her tears away, sniffling with trembling lips and shaking hands. “Then that’s all I need.”

She sobs against him, her face tucked in his shoulder as he holds her hands between them, kissing at her head.

And sometime in the near future — when Harry and Y/n have found everything they had lost, have grown to be better together than ever spent apart, and have become the best parents they could ever be to their son — he’ll rent out a small venue in the outskirts of town and renew his wedding vows to his wife, whom he plans to never be parted from, even in death.

“So, Y/n, baby love.” They both giggle at the pet name, her head lifting from his shoulder and meeting his eye halfway. “Will you please do the honors of being my lawfully wedded wife, and the mother of our disgustingly perfect child, in our home in Alaska? Forever?”

She nods her head, her thoughts clouded by euphoria, her hand still in her husband’s.

As if he even had to ask.

[rosenkranz-isnt-dead]

PotD thoughts

okay now that it's been a couple days and I had some time to think things through, I'm going to put all my thoughts in one place. first, I want to ask people bashing chibnall's era to not interact with this post. it's had some ups and downs, but overall it's been my favorite era so far, and yes, not all the things I'm about to say are kind, but I'm still grateful for those four years.

I'll start with the things I liked.

the Master. oh I can't believe I'm saying this, the Master is my less favorite recurring character, I did enjoy Missy but that's it. however, Sacha Dhawan's performance this episode was spectacular. the Rasputin dance? 100/10, incredible, I choked on a custard cream and nearly died because i laughed so hard, unforgettable experience.

Ace. I was looking forward to her coming back, and I wasn't disappointed (except for one thing which I'll mention later). she calls 13 "professor", wears her famous jacket and bashes daleks with her bat. she even upgraded her Nitro 9 to Nitro 999. I love her so much.

All the callbacks to classic who. The Master taunting Tegan and Ace, and Ace reminding him that last time she saw him, he was a catboy. "I am your Master, and you will obey me." The Master (and then the Doctor too) wearing a bunch of classic doctor's outfits at once and playing Two's flute. that was great.

Previous doctors showing up, including 8, who only ever appeared twice before. I liked 5 and 7 getting some closure with their respective companions too.

Fugitive doctor. even as a cameo, and as a hologram, but still I was happy to see her.

Mandip Gill's glorious performance as Yaz. I'm so glad she got her doctorificarion to the next level: flying the TARDIS, saving the day, getting everyone home. carrying the Doctor in her strong arms like a damsel in distress. absolutely fantastic, love that.

Regeneration. I'm glad 13 found peace at the end of her journey, after repeatedly getting traumatized for three seasons. it was a very beautiful scene (if you don't count what comes after, which I'll elaborate on later).

Things I didn't like:

the refusal to acknowledge that Ace and Tegan are wlw. no mentions of Nyssa or Karra, but instead Tegan mentions her husbands and Ace flirts with Graham. as a lesbian, this stung.

all that stuff about the paintings. what was it for? just for the fun of it? it had no ties to the plot, and I fail to see why the Master's face in all the portraits was necessary.

historical inaccuracy. I'm not talking about Rasputin here, but rather about the winter palace, which in 1916 certainly didn't look like it does in 2022. they didn't even bother to change the flag, which was hilarious. but i do appreciate the representation, lol.

everything leading up to Yaz's exit. it was awful and just plain lazy writing. she never got the chance to tell 13 about her feelings. she never got to express her opinions (except for that one scene with "make time" which i hoped would lead to her finally getting all the answers but alas). after she just silently agreed to everything 13 said in lotsd, i was hoping she would get a chance to talk in the last episode, but no. still nothing. Yaz, who's been waiting for 13 to come back for 10 months and then getting stranded in the past for 4 years, Yaz whose character developed so much in Flux, Yaz who's been patient with all the doctor's mood swings, Yaz who saved the doctor's life and never even got a "thank you", let alone an "I love you" without 13 pulling the no homo thing and saying how important all the companions are to her. it's like eotd and lotsd never happened. like 13 didn't promise, teary eyed, to tell her everything. the Doctor told Ryan more on his last day, in fact she did tell Ryan everything, and Yaz was left with nothing at all, except some ice cream, which i would've understood if it was a reference to some of their earlier adventures, but it wasn't. no goodbye hug, no kiss, no answers. and when 13 says "I'd rather do this next part alone", Yaz simply accepts it. she gets dropped off in Sheffield, and just nods without saying goodbye (which, again, is for 13's benefit), and then gets invited to a therapy session with a bunch of seniors she barely knows or doesn't know at all. my friend @nightmanatee pointed out that it would make sense for Yaz to say the speech reminiscent of Graham's in twwfte, where she would talk about the Doctor. but this, too, was taken away from her. and so Yaz gets reduced to one of many, just another companion dumped by the Doctor. notice how all the companions in that room were the Doctor's friends and nothing more, and they all left willingly. Yaz, who's been with the Doctor since day one and devoted 10 years of her life to her, Yaz who was in love with the Doctor (and loved back, no matter how much that episode tried to convince me that the previous two specials didn't happen), is not the same as any of them. If we go this route, fine, give me Clara, give me Martha, who loved the Doctor like Yaz did, they at least would understand her. So please don't tell me how "right" it was, how "beautiful", because there's nothing right about a brown woman not having a chance to speak for herself and taken for granted, there's nothing beautiful about a relationship, slowly developing over the course of two seasons, suddenly taking a 180 turn and becoming a friendship again. back to square one.

and one last thing: 13 degenerating back into 10. do I even need to add anything to that? well I'm going to anyways. Jodie Whittaker was the first female doctor, she's received a lot of negativity, she's been constantly compared to Tennant, held to a higher standard than her male counterparts. Ncuti Gatwa is about to become the first Black doctor (official that is, I'm not forgetting Jo Martin). And who are we seeing at the end of the episode? fan favorite white man, stealing both Jodie's final moments and Ncuti's spotlight. all the praise RTD has said about Jodie is reduced to nothing, because he gave nmds exactly what they wanted. and okay, let's say Ncuti is still busy and they needed an in-between Doctor to temporarily fill his shoes. but guess what: Jo Martin is right there. how much more sense it would've been for 13 to regenerate back into the fugitive doctor, whose storyline was not tied up? Sacha Dhawan, whose Master messed with the Doctor's regeneration, is right there. and if they wanted the viewing figures to raise, fine, they could still bring Tennant back for the 60th, it's been done before, multiple doctors specials are a regular occurence. but they pulled the cheapest trick of all, which is super disappointing.

Anyways, I'm sad the grand finale left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I'm immensely grateful to Jodie, Mandip, Sacha et all for having been in my life for these 4 years. I'm looking forward to their next projects and holding out a hope for future DW cameos and Big Finish audios.

[rowanaelinn]

Safe Place

rowaelin month day four : librairies @rowaelinscourt

warning: not descriptive nsfw content

Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius could be described as a calm male. Out of all his companions, he probably was the one with the most self-control and he thanked the Gods for it every time one of his friends said something stupid.

However, it didn’t apply when his wife was concerned. Around Aelin, Rowan’s self-control seemed to vanish. She had the ability to get him angry, to become a blushing mess or a soft idiot with just one sentence. There was no control around his mate and it was one of the reasons he loved her.

But when he woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, Rowan lost the little human part he had in himself. Rowan lost all control the moment he smelled a lingering scent of fear. Her fear.

Has she been taken again?

Has it all been a dream? Had he not got her back?

In a second, Rowan was standing, knives at the ready around his waist. He would fight to get her back if he had to. Not having Aelin by his side made him feel like all the air in the world was gone.

Rowan wanted to yell at himself for falling asleep, he should have protected her.

In all the times her Fireheart was in danger, Rowan was never there to protect her. What a poor excuse of a husband and mate he was. He still didn't know why his queen was keeping him and hadn't already thrown him out. He was useless. Completely useless.

He kept complaining because of the royal duties, kept saying he liked being a prince just fine because it didn’t bring him any mess. His only role as King Consort, mate, and husband was to protect Aelin and he had shown the world how bad he was at it. Multiple times.

She wasn’t okay, he could feel her sadness from her side of the bond. Rowan felt like a prick for being relieved at the feeling of her emotions just because it meant she was still alive and not in a damn iron coffin that blocked every chance for them to communicate.

First, he came out of the royal apartments, following Aelin’s faint scent. She had become so damn good at hiding herself with her magic, a trick Fenrys taught all of them. It was a useful skill to have, Rowan was relieved most of the time no one could track her with her scent but he wasn’t tonight. Not when he needed to see her.

Thankfully with Aelin’s condition lately, her scent was stronger which meant she couldn’t cover up all of it. He refused to imagine she had been taken away until he had searched the entire castle twice. She had to be here, somewhere.

He went first to the kitchen, hoping to find her behind the counter, a plate with chocolate cake in front of her. She would look up, fork still in mouth and she would smile guiltily at him. She would apologize, saying she was always so hungry lately and he would shake it off, taking another fork and join her even if he hated cake. Just to show her she wasn’t alone.

But when he opened the door, the kitchen was empty, making Rowan’s heart clench.

Next, he went to the throne room, hoping to find her sitting on her throne, a sad smile on her face she would try to conceal with a smirk. He would ask her what she was doing here and she would tell him she needed to be alone and to feel in power, and what better than her throne to make her feel powerful? But this room was empty too, and Rowan’s heart crushed a little further.

Maybe she was in the inside cemetery, kneeling between both her parent’s graves. She would look up at him and wouldn’t try to hide her tears. She would have a smile on her face, telling him she needed to feel close to them. To be between the two of them without waking up with blood everywhere. Rowan would nod and sit behind her, letting her rest her back on his chest and he would let her cry bringing her all the comfort she needed. But she wasn’t here, and Rowan didn’t know where to look for her now.

If they were in Rifthold, he would probably think she was speaking to either Sam or Nehemia, telling both of them everything about what happened in their court since the last time she spoke to them.

But they weren’t in Adarlan so it left only one place where she could be. His walk to the library was slow, slower than he wished. He could just shift and fly instead of taking all the stairs but if she was there she would make fun of him for it, she had enough to tease him already.

When he arrived at the library, as always, he was dazzled by the splendor of the room. The last time the librarians counted, Aelin and Rowan owned three hundred thousand books and that was a decade ago, just after the construction work was finished.

Aelin had cried and laughed and smiled for hours when she first saw it, walking through all the sections to see every book, then made love to Rowan on the floor, more tenderly than they were both used to, to thank him.

As if seized by a frenzy, Rowan walked like a mad man through the library to find her. He regretted giving her something so big, having to look at every fucking row. There were so many places to hide.

After what seemed like hours, Roan saw familiar blonde hair. He let a sob come out in relief. She wasn't gone. There was no Valg Queen that had pulled her away from Rowan, no, his Fireheart was just sitting on a couch that looked very comfortable, six pillows behind her back.

"Rowan?" She asked, raising her eyes full of concern. "Is everything okay?" Her eyebrows were furrowed.

Instead of answering, he rushed to her side, falling onto her lap to be on the same level as her and scanning her entire body to make sure she was okay and truly in front of him.

His eyes fell on a small scar on her right knee, a scar she had made during one of their training sessions. He remembered kissing the mark every night for weeks when he noticed it after enjoying his wife's goddess body. He hadn't noticed that she was injured during their workout and he felt terrible about it.

Aelin kept telling him he was fussing, but he knew deep down she liked it. She loved to be cherished and protected. He dropped his head to her lap, unable to fight a sob. She put her book aside, sitting straighter and one of her hands found her way in his hair. Rowan hated himself for the tears streaming down his face as he looked up at her, he hated himself even more for the look of agony on his mate’s face.

“Speak to me, please.” She begged him, her hand still playing in his hair.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even and strong but he couldn’t. “I thought you were gone.” He breathed deeply, trying to calm down and focusing on where he touched her, his hands and arms on her legs. “I woke up to an empty bed and your fearful scent and I panicked.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Rowan.”

“You weren’t supposed to go anywhere either last time but you still did.” He hated the poisonous words the moment they felt his mouth but his mate didn’t seem hurt, knowing anger was his way to cope.  “I’m sorry,” He hid his face on her leg, not wanting to see her hurt face.

“Don’t be,” Was the only thing she said as she kept stroking his hair. She was too good to him, she had always been. She had known so much pain her entire life but she was still an amazing person, Rowan didn’t know how much strength it must take her. The Gods knew Rowan lacked that particular strength when the time had come, he had turned into the worst version of himself. He admired his Fireheart.

After a moment, Rowan looked back at her and she smiled, his entire world brightened at this. She was okay, she was right here with him. She was safe.

“How are you?” He asked, feeling selfish for crying when she was the one who had a nightmare.

“We’re both okay, Rowan.” She reassured him as her free hand came to rest on her slightly rounded belly. Rowan’s heart swelled at the sight, he still couldn’t believe it. After years, decades, of trying Azlin was pregnant. She had been glowing for the past four months, even if she said otherwise.

“Is she still kicking?” He asked, one of his hands joining Aelin’s.

“Your son is restless, I hope you slept enough in your life because he’s not going to let us sleep much once he’s here.”

Both Aelin and him had a divergence of opinion on their baby’s sex. Aelin was sure it was a boy, whereas Rowan believed it was a girl. A girl had been their oldest in the vision he had for months when Aelin was gone. It had been too realistic to be a dream, had felt too real.

Yrene knew and had asked them if they wanted to know, but both of them agreed they wanted to keep it secret. They had too many surprises in their lives and none of them had been good, but this one would be. No more surprises unless it’s a good one.

“She’ll be worth every sleepless night.” His lips turned into a smile at the idea of a little Aelin and Rowan.

Aelin snorted. “Wait until you have to change diapers.”

At that, Rowan laughed, soon followed by Aelin. When he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes, his smile faded. “What did you dream of?” He asked, needing to know why his wife had left their room after a nightmare instead of waking him up.

She lost her smile too, her body tenser than moments ago. “Nothing important.”

“Please, tell me.”

She took a deep breath and some time to answer. Rowan didn’t mind, he’d give her eternity if she needed as long as he knew what troubled his wife. He got up, lifted Aelin's legs so he could sit next to her, and then rested her legs on his while he caressed her thighs in comfort. “I was you.”

“With Maeve?”

She shook her head making his confusion grow. She had already told him about nightmares of him being taken on that beach, of him being whipped and tortured for months. He had held her as she cried, as she told him the pain of losing him would have been so much more than the pain she experienced all these months away from him.

“In Arobynn’s cave.” She whispered as tears pooled in her eyes. He wouldn’t take her in his arms, he would wait for her to do it first, no need to overwhelm her. “With your eyes missing, whole body destroyed and a cold body.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Fireheart…”

“Have you ever dreamed of me like that?” She asked and he knew she didn’t mean just dreams of her, dead.

“I did.” He admitted, his heart beating faster at the thought of it. “First in Wendlyn, when you left for Rifthold. Every time I closed my eyes I lived the day I found Lyria over and over again. But it wasn’t her small body that I saw, it was yours. It haunted me for months.” He took a deep breath, controlling his emotions. Aelin was crying, she didn’t need someone else to become a wreck. “Then when you told me you were pregnant, it started again.”

It happened more than he wanted to admit. He knew it wouldn’t happen, it was impossible, but he still could see her dead body in front of his destroyed mountain home.

Aelin didn’t say anything but she straddled him, his hands finding her waist as her fingers slipped through his hair. Her forehead came to rest on his as they both closed their eyes, enjoying each other’s company. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

His hand stroked her back, his fingers drawing the lines of his tattoo he knew by heart now. Every part of her body was written in his mind. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I know it’s rare lately.” Her warm hand cupped his cheek and he sighed in her embrace. “Whenever I don’t feel okay and you’re not around, I come here.”

“The library?”

“Or the theater if I feel like walking.” Which wasn’t a lot lately, his wife’s pregnancy was taking her so much energy they didn’t go to the theater in months. She was always so tired or in pain, he knew she missed it. “Whenever I’m here, I feel so close to you, as if part of your soul was here between these walls.”

His heart clenched at it, he lifted up his head, his lips settled gently on hers. He kissed her languidly, generously, putting as much love and passion as he could. He loved her so much he felt like dying. He would die without her.

Slowly, she began to unbutton his shirt, her tongue continuing to play with Rowan's. The kiss turned from passionate to needy. He needed the reassurance she was here, she was with him, and his mate knew it.

In a matter of moments, Rowan was shirtless and had pulled her nightgown over her head, revealing her naked body. Aelin had gained weight in the years since the war, her body that had once been too thin was now full. She had had a hard time adjusting, she had been starving most of her life. Even during her years with Arobynn, she was always under a strict diet to stay the best. She had never been in a stable enough place for her to thrive.

So when her flat stomach rounded out, thighs grew and cheeks filled out, it was a shock. Rowan had been there to worship her body day and night, reminding her that she was just living, and seeing her happy was the most beautiful thing Rowan had ever seen.

One of Rowan’s hands was teasing Aelin’s sensitive nipple, tearing little cries out of her perfect, delicate, lips. Her hands undid his buckle quickly as Rowan lifted his hips to slide his pants and underwear down, freeing his hard member.

Aelin didn’t waste time before taking him, her hand around him applying just the right amount of pressure. His hand slipped between her legs, directly finding her wet and warm entrance. They moaned together as Aelin’s hand movement quickened and Rowan plunged two fingers in her warmth, hitting that spot inside of her that made her scream every time.

As good as it was, Rowan craved something else, so when he groaned Aelin understood. He pulled out his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste her. No matter how many years had passed since the first time, Rowan kept being surprised at how good she tasted. He moaned around his fingers as Aelin teased her entrance with his erection before sinking down, making both of their heads drop back.

Being inside of her had always felt so good, had always felt so right, as if he had been born just to do this. Her belly prevented their chests from touching but Rowan didn’t mind as he ran his hands on every inch of her skin as she started moving.

Aelin kept bouncing slowly on top of him, taking her time as she chased her pleasure, and once again Rowan realized how much he loved her. His Fireheart, his mate, his wife, and his best friend.

He loved her so damn much and he told her so, repeated it over and over again as they both fell over the edge, gripping the other’s skin as they reached the peak of pleasure.

They were both breathless as he lifted her up, pulling out of her and he used his shirt to clean her up. He didn’t want to get dressed not yet, anyway. He lied on his side, tucking his Fireheart next to him. That way, every inch of his front could touch her back. One of his hands came to rest on her belly as he took her book, opening it to where she had left a bookmark.

“What are you doing?” She asked him, her voice sleepy. He used his magic to extinguish most of the candles in the bookstore, leaving only the ones behind him lit to give him some light. "Shhh." He said softly into her ear, moving slightly to be more comfortable, and pulled her even closer to him. "You don't have to come back to reality now."  He told her then began to read her book aloud.

He couldn’t see her but deep down, he left her smile as she put her hand against his, both of them holding their baby as they hugged each other.

Aelin fell asleep quickly but Rowan didn’t stop reading, even if after many hours his voice became hoarse and his throat hurt. But if his Fireheart heard him maybe she would know he was still here, even in her sleep.

—————

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy

[fruitcoops]

I think it would be really interesting for leo and sirius to talk ab how they both didn’t go to college and how they both joined the nhl at 18 but had v different upbringings

Ooo, I like this one! I’m always down for some Cap and Knutty bonding. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for mentioned bad parenting

“Kinda weird, isn’t it?” Leo said, breaking the nighttime silence after many long minutes of just their breathing. Sirius hummed in question. “Starting all this so young.”

Sirius made a noncommittal noise and Leo shifted, never taking his eyes off the sky. There was too much light pollution to see the stars properly in Gryffindor, but the roof of the rink didn’t have a bad view; the planes flying overhead brought pinpricks of brightness to the indigo blur.

“Was it hard for you?”

He heard Sirius’ coat move. “Was what hard?”

“Starting the NHL at eighteen.”

There was a long beat of silence. “Sometimes.”

“I didn’t know if I would make it,” Leo confessed, still barely above a murmur. Nobody else was around, but it didn’t feel right to talk in normal voices. The whole world was muted, save for the noise of the city below them. “There was just so much to do.”

Sirius laughed softly. “I hate to break it to you, rookie, but that doesn’t change.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“Before, or now?”

Leo thought for a moment. “Both.”

“Before, I would go home and shoot pucks until I was too tired to stand up. Sometimes I would read.” It wasn’t a secret, but it still made Leo’s heart hurt to remember. Nobody as kind and hardworking as Sirius deserved that. “Now, I make myself some food, take a shower, and steal Re’s softest hoodie.”

Leo could hear his smile in the dark—it echoed his own. “Nothing better, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Finn’s fit me best,” he mused. “But Lo’s smell better.”

“Ah, he finally discovered deodorant?”

“Shut up,” Leo teased, elbowing his ribs. Sirius laughed a little louder; in the light of the streetlamps and the absence of his granite-hard focus, it was easy to remember that he was only 26. Leo had worshipped him as a kid, but now he just saw Sirius for what he was. His captain, who guided him through the playoffs even when his personal life was crumbling apart. His older brother, though Sirius certainly wouldn’t think of him that way. His friend.

“Really, though, it’s important to have those connections,” Sirius said when they both calmed down. “Being alone is good, but only if you know you have people to talk to when you need them.”

“Was it easier when you weren’t living with someone?”

“No.” The answer was immediate.

“Sometimes I want the apartment to myself.” Leo lowered his voice unconsciously, then sighed. “It’s not because I don’t want them there. I just need to be alone. Wash the dishes. Clean my room. Call my mom.”

“You should tell them.”

He turned his head slightly; Sirius was still scanning the sky. “Is that what you did?”

“It took a couple hiccups, but yeah. If one of us needs some alone time, the other will go to the grocery store or take a walk, maybe hang out with friends. You just have to make sure your boys know that it’s not personal.”

“You’re freakishly good at sage advice.”

Sirius snorted. “Merci, rookie.”

“I’m not a rookie anymore.”

“Yeah, you are.” He raised his hands, as if outlining a marquee. “The Eternal Rookie, starring Leo Knut.”

Leo stuck his tongue out, feeling rather petulant about the whole thing. “Watch it, Cap, I’m gonna sic Dumo on you.”

“My own father?” Sirius gasped dramatically. “How could you?”

“Did you ever get homesick?”

The question was out of the blue—he didn’t blame Sirius for faltering. Honestly, Leo was kicking himself for asking in the first place, though he had been keeping it in for ages. Unspoken rule of the Lions #1: Don’t ask Cap about his childhood.

“I…” Sirius fell silent once more.

“I’m sorry,” Leo apologized, and he meant it. “That came out of nowhere.”

“I missed Regulus,” Sirius continued carefully without acknowledging him. “But no, I didn’t get homesick. I didn’t have time, or a real reason.”

Alone in a new city, finally out of a horrible living situation, but desperately missing the little brother he left behind… Leo couldn’t even begin to imagine going through it when the NHL by itself was already overwhelming to his teenage brain. He scooted an inch closer until their shoulders touched. “I get homesick every couple of months.”

“You have a kind family.”

“Have you even met them?”

“At the party.” Sirius’ smile was practically audible. “Your mother was very excited to see me.”

“Oh, god,” Leo groaned. “What happened?”

“She—“ He broke off with a laugh. “She was very nice, I promise, but I think I surprised her because she squeaked when I said ‘hello’.”

Leo shook his head. “Did you sneak up on her?”

“I’m six two, I can’t sneak up on anyone!”

“You walk like a fucking ghost, dude! It’s creepy!”

“Okay, rude.”

“I swear, you and Loops need to be belled like cats,” Leo huffed.

They lapsed back into comfortable quiet for a few more minutes as a train rattled past on one side and the metro busses rolled down Main Street on the other. It had taken Leo a long time to figure out Gryff’s layout, and even longer to get used to the sounds of the city.

“What does it feel like?”

Leo blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly. “What?”

“Being homesick.” Sirius shifted again and folded his hands over his stomach. “I didn’t notice much of a difference in practices when I started the NHL, and going back to my parents’ house wasn’t my exactly a highlight of my year.”

Curiosity overrode his tact and reasoning skills. “You never asked Logan?”

“Non. It was different, with him. He had already left to go to college before I knew him, and spent four years away from his family.”

“Right.” Leo forgot about that on occasion. That Finn and Logan might be five years older than him, but they had only been rookies a year or two prior. Not everyone went straight from their city select team to an official draft. “It’s hard to describe.”

Sirius made an understanding noise, but he couldn’t entirely mask his disappointment. Leo licked his lips and tried again.

“It’s like a piece of you isn’t where it’s supposed to be. And it keeps tugging on your chest, but you never know when it’s going to start and stop so you just… deal with it. You ignore it some days and you think about it other days.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “The hard days are when you remember you can’t go back to the way things were before. I don’t even call my mom sometimes, ‘cause I know it’ll make me sadder.”

“The way things were before?”

“Yeah, like—like all my classmates are in college, and I’m laying on a roof with one of the most famous hockey players in the history of forever.” That drew a light laugh from them both. “I’m gonna go back to my reunion in a couple years and have literally nothing in common with the people I used to be friends with.”

“Sometimes I wish I went to college,” Sirius said. “But I would have missed so much if I did. I don’t think I would have been happy there.”

“Finn and Logan get weird about college.” Maybe he shouldn’t be talking about it, but Leo had the feeling none of their conversation would leave the rooftop. “It was hard for them, with all their shit.”

“Re does, too.” He recognized the sad edge in Sirius’ voice; it was the same as his own. “For a different reason. It started good, and ended bad.”

“I’m glad I missed out on that,” Leo said, biting down the urge to scream at the universe for putting their significant others through so much hardship at an already-difficult time. None of them deserved the pain they went through. “Besides, it’s not like we need degrees to play hockey, and we’ll have plenty of money afterward.”

“I never thought about my life after hockey until my ankle.”

“My parents always pushed me to make sure I wanted to do the NHL instead of more school.”

“You’re lucky to have them.”

“I wish you did.”

The words hung suspended between them before Leo could swallow them back down, somehow dangerous and calming at the same time. It wasn’t like he had never thought about it before; he just hadn’t said it out loud. The first time he had seen Sirius’ parents across the rink had given him a case of the heebie-jeebies so strong he had to shower twice. All the times after that just made him angry.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sirius’ voice was quiet, but not upset. “You’re not the first person to say it. I’m glad you feel like you can be honest with me.”

Leo frowned. “Well, yeah. Obviously.”

“I try really hard to not be an asshole captain, so it actually does mean a lot.”

“I don’t think you could be an asshole if you tried.”

The barking laugh that split the night startled Leo so bad he nearly jumped out of his skin; Sirius clapped a hand over his mouth, though he was still snickering. “Sorry, sorry, I just—holy shit, I forgot you didn’t know me before. Mon dieu.”

“You weren’t that bad,” Leo protested. “Pots said you used to be grumpier, but that’s it.”

Sirius shook his head, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “I was such a dick. There’s not a single picture of the whole team where I’m smiling for about two years and I was such a stickler for the rules.”

Leo gaped at him. “You followed rules?”

“To the fucking letter. It was awful.”

“What happened?”

Sirius shrugged. “I got friends. Idiot friends who did things like showing me the easiest way onto the roof. Pots used to drag me up here every Friday.”

“Really?”

“Ouais.” Mischief flitted over his face. “He skipped date night with Lily once on accident, and she tracked us up here like a bloodhound. It was terrifying.”

“What did you do?” Lily was one of the nicest people Leo knew, but he knew better than to get on her bad side.

“Lied to her face while James hid behind that strobe light.”

“Did it work?”

“Are you kidding?” he snorted. “She called me a liar and suggested getting a better best friend. That was after she told James he’s better have something nice planned for their next date if he ever wanted to get in her pants again.”

“And yet you didn’t listen to her.” Leo tsked. “Of all the people on the team, you chose the hot mess.”

“Trust me, rookie, James had his whole life figured out compared to me.”

“Did you…” Leo trailed off and but his lip. He had pushed his luck a lot already; who knew if one more question would be the tipping point? “Did you ever think about coming out? Even just to Pots.”

Sirius didn’t hesitate. “After every single game.”

“For seven years?”

“Up until the day those pictures were leaked. Even more after Re and I were together.”

“How old were you when you knew?”

“13. You?”

Leo exhaled slowly. “I’m not sure. I think I had an idea of it as a kid, but didn’t really get it until I was in high school. My parents were even more worried about the NHL after I told them.”

“They worry a lot about you.”

“Only child, and I was going for a wildly unstable career path with no guarantee that I would ever see the ice.”

“They’re proud of you. More than you know.” Sirius’ watch beeped. “It’s ten o’clock. Are you supposed to be home?”

“I should probably make sure my boys haven’t burned down the apartment.” Neither of them made an attempt to move. “Can we do this again sometime?”

“Of course.”

You’re like a brother to me, he wanted to say. I don’t know who else I can talk to like this. “Thank you.”

“Any time. We don’t have to do extra practice beforehand, either.”

Leo nudged him gently. “You’re the best captain ever.”

“You’re the best rookie, rookie.”

“I’m not a rookie.”

“Yeah, you are.”

Yeah, I am, he thought as they laid side-by-side in silence once more with the past behind them and the future ahead. And if I end up like you, it means I did something right.

[uwuwriting]

Zoom meetings with the kids w/ Kuroo, Akaashi and Sakusa

Request: I have been stuck inside the house with my three year old brother for the last three weeks and he keeps coming inside my room and entering the zoom call with me. So that had me thinking. How would our favorite Haikyuu dads Kuroo, Akaashi, maybe Kenma or Sakusa react to their toddlers coming into their room and joining their meeting. - anonymous. 

Awww I love haikyuu dads!!!! I have begun making the smau and I’m already like 3 chapters in but I won’t start posting until I’ve finished it or I’m about to finish it. I wanna be sure that I’ll have a trustworthy upload schedule lmao bc my midterms are coming up next week and I’m dying. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warning: fluff

Kuroo Tetsuro

-He was in a meeting with the firm for the past three hours. 

-He was absolutely exhausted and the only thing he wanted was to take a nap with his two year old daughter. 

-You were still at the hospital, your shift finishing in about two hours so he was basically alone.

-Your daughter was playing with her toys in his office, being as quiet as she could but exhaustion started to win her over little by little. 

-Yawn after yawn left her lips but since the sound was so small and barely above a whisper, Kuroo hadn’t realized that his little princess was tired. 

-Standing up with wobbly legs she grabbed her cat blankie and rubbed her eyes as she slowly made her way to her father. 

-With one arm hugging her blankie and the other wrapping around Kuroo’s leg, she rested her head on his leg and slowly sank down to the floor, not tugging at his pyjama leg as he expected. 

-Looking down at her he didn’t think twice before bending over and bringing her into his lap. 

-She let out a small sigh before she clutched his shirt in her small fists and was off to dreamland in record time. 

- “Kuroo-san what do you think?” 

- “Sorry my daughter distracted me.”

-And with that he went back to his meeting. 

-Throughout the rest of the meeting Kuroo rested a hand on her back, cupping her little head lightly rubbing soothing circles on her skull, staring down at her every now and then a smile adorning his features every time he saw her nuzzling into his chest.

-She was a female version of him now that he thinks of it.

-She had his crazy raven hair and stunning amber eyes while her face structure reminded him of both you and him. 

-Her personality though was all you. 

-He knew she was very young but she reminded him of you when you two first met more and more each day.

-Right at that moment she let out a small yawn again, her eyes opening slightly as she repositioned herself on his lap and went back to sleep. 

-He couldn’t love her more, at least that’s what he believed. 

-Each day she proved him wrong. 

-Saying goodbye to his coworkers he shut off his computer and went to the living room couch, laying down with his little girl in his arms. 

-Giving her one last kiss he fell asleep, a smile still present on his features. 

Akaashi Keiji 

- “The author said that those new chapters need to be edited by the end of the month. He will send you the rest when you are done with these.” 

-His eyes were bloodshot from the endless hours he had been staring at his screen. 

-Rubbing his eyes he answered every single question that was thrown at him, wishing that this one would be the last one. 

-But the universe wouldn’t have it that way for poor Akaashi making him stay up late again. 

-Thunder rumbled from outside and he wondered whether or not you had taken your son to bed with you. 

-The four year old boy was terrified of storms from a young age, always looking for comfort in either you or Akaashi. 

-But ever since his sister was born he pulled away from you two, he didn’t ask for help anymore even when he needed it and he didn’t wake you up during the night when he had a nightmare.

-Akaashi was amazed to say the least. 

-Neither of you had said anything to him about how your attention would mostly be on the baby and you guys had never dismissed his needs because of your little girl. 

-It worried him how fast his son closed in on himself. 

-He was already a shy and quiet kid but now you barely heard his voice and it broke both of your hearts. 

-Akaashi was determined to help him get out of this phase and be by his side but this assignment took up more of his time than he would’ve liked. 

-Light danced across the room as the door slightly opened but no one stepped in. 

-Keiji was about to stand up when he heard little sniffles and the light pitter patter of feet on the carpet of his office. 

-And soon enough his son rounded the corner of his desk, one arm wiping away tears as the other clutched the stuffed owl his uncle Bokuto had bought him. 

-Without losing a beat Keiji pushed his chair back and brought him in his lap, giving a small apology to his boss before momentarily turning off both camera and mic. 

- “I’m sowwy.” 

- “Shh I’m here, nothing’s gonna hurt you.” 

-Giving him a kiss on each cheek Akaashi let him snuggle in his chest, a strong arm supporting the toddler while simultaneously making him feel safe and protected. 

- “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt but could we end it here? My son had a nightmare and I want to calm him down.” 

- “Of course Akaashi-san, give my regards to the little man. Goodnight.” 

-And with that the meeting was over and Akaashi was left with a crying child in his arms. 

- “Hey hey, I told you that nothing’s going to hurt you while I’m here. Why don’t we go sleep with mommy hm?” 

- “I’m sowwy…”

-Akaashi kissed his head again bringing him into a tight hug as he got up from his seat. 

- “There is nothing to be sorry for now come on, mommy would want cuddles.” 

 Sakusa Kiyoomi

- “If we use the new quick that Atsumu and Hinata have been practicing then we would have the upper hand momentarily.”

-Kiyoomi let out a sigh as the meeting he had with the team would not seem to end. 

-They had been discussing tactics for the last hour and a half while the rest of the time they had been informed of the new managers they had been assigned. 

-Kiyoomi never expected to be in a zoom call while being an athlete.

-He thought that it would be useless. 

-What were they even gonna do while in the meeting? Practice? 

-But he was proven wrong once the coach called the first meeting and now Sakusa was ready to pull his hair out. 

-Thankfully he was just laying in bed so at least he was comfortable. 

-You had gone out for some much needed grocery shopping leaving Kiyoomi with his son, not wanting to take your child outside with the virus contaminating people left and right. 

-Sakusa loved spending time with his son. 

-He was a low maintenance child, just like he was when he was young, adopting the same hygiene patterns as his father even at the early age of two. 

-He had just started talking and you wouldn't stop having conversations with him, the baby only uttering a simply “dada” or “momma” or even maybe a “yes” or “no” if you were lucky. 

-It made you happy though, seeing your son slowly becoming more independent. 

-Sakusa was also happy but he was also reminded that he wouldn’t stay this young forever; before he knew it his son would be off to high school or college and he wouldn’t fit in his arms anymore. 

-Lost in thought Kiyoomi hadn’t seen the toddler make his way into the room until he felt the covers being pulled as he attempted to get on the bed *and failed bc he’s just too short*

-Letting out a chuckle Sakusa pushed his laptop to the side and leaned down to grab his son, who was now pouting an expression that was a little too similar to yours. 

- “Is that mini Sakusa I see?” 

-Kiyoomi ignored Atsumu as he settled his son on his lap letting the baby wave at the camera as his “uncles” waved back. 

- “Do you mind if he joins?” 

- “Of course not, every Sakusa is welcome.”

-Giving his son one last kiss on his head, Kiyoomi went back to listening to the boring tactics letting his son play with his fingers in the process. 

-Okay maybe it wasn’t that bad now 

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