#don't mind me I am feeling emotional because I just realized next month I'll be fucking 30 and I am 100% not ready for it

[norringtondeservestheworld]

living in constant fear that @hamartia-grander @feenmies @unknown-terrain and @janiedean one day will realize how uncool and strange I am and they'll stop talking to me

[room-surprise]

Hey! Fun question, how do you think an in-canon kabumisu confession would go? People keep portraying mithrun as blunt and straightforward about their relationship, but would he be scared to tell kabru in the chance that he'd say no and leave? Is the desire to just be in a relationship with kabru, or is the desire of not wanting to scare him off greater than that? I'm so starved on the lack of post-canon kabumisu content, they make me go crazy

As usual, I'll try not to go into TOO much detail because then I won't be motivated to write fic about it... and I AM planning to write a post-canon Kabumisu fic anon, so don't worry. I'll get there eventually :3

They make me go crazy too 😔

I think Mithrun's a complicated guy with complicated emotions. Even when he was "empty" in the dungeon he actually showed a lot of feelings - smug satisfaction, annoyance, anger, even a little bit of subtle happiness.

So while I DO think he will still be blunt in general, I also think it's a mistake to assume that means he doesn't feel things and won't have anxieties and insecurities just like any other person.

Mithrun used to be WILDLY insecure, and jealous, and paranoid. He just stopped caring about anything, but if, like the end of the manga suggests, he is going to try to START caring again, he will then start to have feelings, too.

I think Mithrun is intensely aware of his own "undesirability", that's one of the reasons he's BEEN so depressed. Most of his self-worth before the dungeon hinged on being "better" than his brother, and better than other people. Then he looses that (or maybe he was never actually better at all!), so what does he have left? And now his youth is gone too, he's middle-aged and lost his "best years" to depression. He's disabled, he's scarred, he's a bastard that nobody wants.

It's a pretty huge fall from "most eligible bachelor in the empire"!

So I think no, he won't just bluntly tell Kabru that he likes him. It will take Mithrun awhile to realize how he feels, and once he does, he'll be afraid to reach out, so he's going to do what I call "playing silly little elf games". He's going to try and flirt via writing letters and sending gifts, to hint that he likes Kabru.

Luckily for Mithrun, Kabru also knows how to play Silly Little Elf Games (he's an Olympic champion), so he picks up the signals and starts reciprocating, though he's also uncertain and worried that he's misunderstanding. Captain Mithrun couldn't be flirting with him, could he? But... what if he is?

(I will go into Kabru's feelings at a later date anon i promise.)

I think the thing that will ultimately push Mithrun to act is the fear that he'll miss his chance. Mithrun realizes Kabru is a limited time deal that he can only enjoy for the next 60-something years, and he wants every minute of that time for himself, no matter how much it will someday hurt to lose Kabru.

And he also knows that Kabru is very handsome and charming, and he can't expect Kabru to wait for Mithrun to get himself figured out. Someone else will swoop in and snatch that man up, so Mithrun has to hurry.

ALL OF THAT SAID... I think their confession is a lot less of a confession, and much more "we have both been picking up these signals of interest for months/years, and finally one of us pushes it a little bit further than we've ever pushed it before and we acknowledge the unspoken thing that has been growing between us."

Maybe it's a hand resting on someone's leg, or a gentle touch on the arm. Maybe it's leaning in so their shoulders touch. Maybe it's looking into each other's eyes a little bit longer than normal.

Probably it involves both of them admitting "Spending time with you makes me happier than anything else in the world. Whenever we're apart all I think about is when I'm going to see you again. I spend hours composing letters to you in my mind. I want us to spend our days together, no matter what shape that takes."

It's very vulnerable and scary for both of them, and I think they're both DEEPLY relieved after they finally get it out, and they don't get rejected. They know each other so well, and they're so good at reading people - they both thought that the other might feel the same way, but it's so scary to take that leap of faith and hope that they're right.

And just for the record, I think that Kabru worries about if Mithrun will be interested in sex or not, because sex is something that matters to Kabru, but what if Mithrun just doesn't have any desire for it?

And so before they get into a relationship Kabru has a long hard think about it, and decides that even if they never have sex, he wants to be in a romantic relationship with Mithrun anyway, because just being around him makes him feel happy, and understood, and like he isn't alone anymore. There's someone who sees him as he is, all the good and the bad, and says "I love you anyway."

And Kabru decides that he's willing to just jerk off for the rest of his life if that's the price of this relationship that he wants.

Luckily for Kabru, I think Mithrun does want to have sex with him, but I like to think that Kabru thinks through all the possibilities and decides that no matter what they end up doing together, being with Mithrun is worth it.

[thesinglesjukebox]

CHARLI XCX FT. LORDE - "THE GIRL, SO CONFUSING VERSION"

We opened July by giving you a Charli remix; we now close July by giving you a Charli remix. Let's work it out in the blurbs, then see you next month!

[7.62]

Julian Axelrod: The girls are fighting. The girls have always been fighting. Sometimes with each other, sometimes with their labels, usually with themselves. But even in a year dominated by petty beef, the girls are rarely fighting on record. Leave it to Charli to realize pop music is all wrestling and execute a perfect reverse heel turn. The week BRAT dropped, pulling back the coke-stained rug to reveal a trap door of professional insecurity, fans and critics clung to "Girl, so confusing" as the last vestige of the carefree club romp we were promised, spawning a million think pieces about which curly-haired brunette started the beef. Bringing Lorde into the mix one week later was at once an escalation and denouement, negating the feud narrative and digging down to the real emotions buried beneath its glossy sheen. Charli resents Lorde's success, her flakiness, and her critical acclaim. Lorde sees Charli as a 365 party girl too cool to acknowledge her, let alone invite her to collab. It's all so insular and meta and self-obsessed and earnest and honest and real, to the point where it's almost too intimate to witness. But it's a testament to Charli and Lorde that the whole thing doesn't topple under its own weight, and hearing them write to each other's style makes you realize they have more in common than just hair. The girls are talking. The girls are collaborating. The girls are working it out on the remix. [9]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Iconic! Culture-changing! This could have been a podcast! [5]

Andrew Karpan: Upon release, it was funny to hear the speculation that this record was about Lorde, in that way that it is always funny to know something that feels intimate and real about a roving symbol of pop phenomenology. At any rate, it was satisfying to hear that we were right. Turning this from subtext to text feels like a decisively modern gesture, a living and breathing genius dot com annotation, something one could easily confuse for Taylor Swift’s 1989 rollout or any other kind of “this phony fake friends fake girl power shit” -- but I’m less inclined to be cynical, even in the meme economy of it all. The fiction of these two people with their relatable problems is played so straight that I practically cried at the end. She rides for Charli! Charli rides for her! Hang it in the Louvre, but down in the back.  [8]

TA Inskeep: I've traditionally not been a fan of Charli XCX, for various reasons not worth getting into here. That's relevant because I am thoroughly knocked the fuck out by the next-level-meta "girl talk" dialogue of this meeting-of-the-minds remix. Lorde responds to Charli's verse with a lacerating one of her own, spilling her guts and getting very real; talk about "work[ing] it out on the remix," goddamn. Charli, of course, is expert at riding producer A.G. Cook's hyperpop rhythms, but to hear Lorde matching her as the track heaves and bumps is a shock. This is profoundly soul-baring pop, what with Lorde candidly talking about eating disorders and Charli admitting on her opening verse "I don't know if you like me / Sometimes I think you might hate me." That they're doing this so publicly is frankly stunning. This feels like -- this is -- a true pop moment. [10]

Alfred Soto: They're having fun, and for once one of these interrogations sounds lived-in. The beats pop harder. Listening to Lorde and Charli ribbit around the cheerful electro-frogs is a visceral pleasure. Few of the problems they describe code as "girl," though, so I'll be the spoilsport. [7]

Katherine St. Asaph: The original "Girl" had three problems, none of which got worked out on the remix. Problem the first: As with hot girl walks and girl math, this stuff is not especially girl-coded. Social anxiety and fake friendships are the human condition! Problem the second: I know it's a fandom joke, so apologies for bringing reality into your memes, but it must be said that basically no one is out here seriously comparing Charli XCX to Lorde, at least that I recall. I did a quick search to prove that I hadn't gaslit myself for a decade, and all I could find was this interview; which was almost definitely a bit; this anecdote about a taxi driver, which is mostly telling about the tastes of taxi drivers; and this Vox piece, which is... not good (or if you want to be charitable, maybe also a bit). In a music world where half the girls are regularly compared to half the other girls, that's an honestly impressive display of how much something hasn't happened. I know that none of us are privy to the actual lived history of Charli and Lorde's friendship, and I can certainly admire Charli stoking a grudge for 10+ years. But the emotional stakes just don't feel as dramatic as they've been hyped to, and thus the Internet inside my heart remains unbroken. Problem the third: There's also a song beneath the parasocial moment-making, and it sounds like "Take My Hand" but not as fun. [6]

Will Adams: Will I be sent to the gallows if I admit that this pairing had about the same emotional impact on me as when Taylor and Katy reunited in the "You Need To Calm Down" video? [6]

Hannah Jocelyn: I got thrown into the fire when it comes to female friendship, and honestly I still don't get it. There are entire movies about how nobody gets it, men just assuming women disappear into each other without a man to anchor them. I feel like cis women have the same bafflement, and they've been women for longer than I have. The questions are the same: do you like me? What do you need from me? Do you desire my company? What can I be, and what do I look like from this particular angle? Am I the one you tell your fears to? Do we have the same hair? Do you want to be me? I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this is in the tracklist right after the SOPHIE tribute of “So I”; it’s the same push-pull dynamic, the fascination and the fear of getting too close. Lorde’s devastating verse reveals the insecurities underpinning her decade of coolness, but she manages to add another quotable to her pantheon at the same time: “let’s work it out on the remix” is as sweet as “you buy me orange juice” and “down the back, but who cares, it’s the Louvre." I don’t care much about the rivalry (if there really is one) and don't need to, and that lack of care for extraneous knowledge is why I don’t quite love Brat like the rest of the internet. The juxtaposition between electroclash and Real Feelings occasionally feels like a gimmick, but the best songs make the melancholic subtext into text. This one, with its flanged chorus and cyclical chord progression, gets across the angst underneath the blurry JPEGs and silly memes. [8]

Taylor Alatorre: It's unfortunate that the zero-sum economy of the pop remix led to the excising of the song's most crucial lyric: "Think you should come to my party / And put your hands up." Apart from its now-obsolete function as a barely veiled clue, it encapsulates the nervous mixture of resentment and admiration that bleeds through both versions and that is so hard to portray sympathetically, let alone with such an impish wink. Charli, as someone who attended more warehouse raves than I did in the early 2010s, had more of a reason to puzzle over that particular line from "Team," to shake her head and wonder whether this post-twee moralizing was really what the kids were into – "the kids," of course, being those three to four years younger than her. Like, it just seems so childish to be genuinely bothered by the chorus to a Flo Rida hit, doesn't it? And yet Charli XCX still goes by the MSN screen name she had when she was 14. The "girl" in the title is as much an age signifier as it is about gender, and the humanizing awkwardness of the remix is a product of its function as an intermural high school reunion, the kind of event that's "confusing" by necessity even if it goes well, which this one does. Your Pop Class of 2013, 'til infinity. [7]

Jonathan Bradley: In 2011, an eternity ago, Drake offered Kendrick Lamar an entire track on his Take Care album, giving the then up-and-coming Lamar space to talk over his worries about fame and the professional anxieties he felt regarding his more successful host. "React like an infant whenever you're mentioned," Lamar recalled of the Canadian. "He said that he was the same age as myself, and it didn't help cause it made me even more rude and impatient." Having worked it all out on the remix, surely no trouble between the two would ever rise again. So confusing! In 2024, Lorde and Charli XCX connect to puzzle out some feelings, and it works better as an event than a single. Lorde is a savvier writer than Charli and works away at old wounds and insecurities with a sense of intimacy that only appears artless. Unfortunately, the production runs her through filters and bleeps that mold her presence into simply another type of Charli, dispelling the tension created by bringing these two women together. Blame it on Ms. XCX. [5]

Jackie Powell: The beauty of this remix is how it shines a light on how women in pop in 2024 deal with "diss tracks" -- although, to be honest, the remix makes me question whether "Girl, so confusing" really was one in the first place. Diss tracks often don't reveal complex emotions but just function in a universe filled with envy and pettiness, but this remix reveals the chaos that resulted from poor communication, fear, body issues, anxiety and depression. Both Charli and Lorde admit that the confusion of being a girl is a result of comparing your insides to someone else's outsides, a mental exercise that's often destructive but difficult to stop. "It's you and me on the coin/The industry loves to spend" is their acknowledgment of what came across as transparent and icky on Kendrick Lamar's "Not Like Us." Also, Lorde sounds the most compelling she has since 2017's "Melodrama"; while I always prefer less Auto-Tune than more, her talk-singing with audio distortion behind her vocals reminds me why she was so beloved. Her messaging is focused: Lorde at her best. Her vocals are dark: also Lorde at her best. What I find most fascinating here is the choice of words during the final pre-chorus. Charli and Lorde sing that they "ride for each other" after working this out, which sounds more sincere than singing that they now magically love each other. It's not an artificial "love ya," but the more sincere "I see you and I know now what you've been through." I'm actually quite jealous of how seamless this appears. Charli and Lorde are somehow giving me some hope that maybe my own friendship breakups could have been resolved by something like this.  [8]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Too many friends, not enough time to keep up. Too much life. Too much work, too many health issues, too much doomscrolling. Too much fun and connection and joy had together, but then rewinding it back, wondering whether everyone else felt the same way. Too much anxiety, becoming paralysis, becoming withdrawal. Too much wondering, "Did people notice I was missing? Should I reach out? Is this made up in my head, and if so, why?" Too many panics, trying to find the exact date of their birthday. Too much energy spent internalizing the loss—or even the potential loss—of friends as my own fault, not enough time spent understanding circumstance and accepting change. (Coincidentally, too much “Bad Friend” on repeat, god bless.) Too much time wasted not reciprocating the love of others, when they easily and excitedly extended the grace that I didn’t extend to myself. Too much adulthood, so confusing. But in this song? Just enough. Just enough sweat, enough mess, enough of the internet going crazy. Just enough payoff for being terminally online. Just enough intrapersonal catharsis, brought by talking it out, and making it clear that you do indeed ride for each other and will always “work it out on the remix.” Just enough tears shed, understanding that others, including the ones I idolize, can feel the way that I sometimes do. Just enough possibility of redemption. Just enough hope for salvation.  [10]

Nortey Dowuona: Two things I learned today. 1. Lorde is still her. 2. We need to re-evaluate Solar Power. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Can we be moots?

Also, am I wrong for feeling this way, or is it reasonable?

Personally, I’m not mad at Gwen but definitely irritated. People like to claim it wasn’t her fault and that she didn’t betray Miles because she was just doing what she had to do to survive.

NEVER will I bash on someone for doing what they need to do to survive. However, it also doesn’t mean that there were some personal choices that she made regardless of her circumstances that hurt Miles and hit their relationship a bit.

And I’m cool with them being together. Do I absolutely ship them? No, but I’m fine if it happens. What certain people hate on me for is not wanting the relationship to happen right away in the next movie.

I like things being realistic, and I don’t think I could justify in my mind them being together simply because Gwen came to save him and then everything is all sunshine and rainbows.

Does that make sense? If you don’t agree, feel free to say so

Hell yeah we can!! ALSOOOOOO You're into my other blorbo who I never talk about on this blog or else I'll go off the rails (Carmy)

But yeah I think some of the behaviors Gwen does is a lot more to comfort herself or save face sometimes.

This REALLY made me think about something and i make a post about it a couple minutes ago

I noticed this in the scene in HQ, when she's lying to Miles and Hobie is correcting her.

Gwen lies to Miles maybe three times directly in the movie -

Once when he asks how many months shes been working with the society. The second is when he asks about the 'small elite strike-team comment', which Hobie corrects her on. And then one more when she lies about how many missions her and Hobie have been all, which he also corrects her on.

And I realized something - that none of those lies contribute to the Society. As in, every time she lies it's not for the society, it's to ease her own anxiety.

And it seems like when she downplays the society, saying it's smaller than it is, it's because she's feeling guilty.

So I think it is important no matter how someone see Gwen, to acknowledge that not everything she does is out of survival mode. It's outta guilt too. And sometimes that guilt leads to her lying unnecessarily - which Hobie always immediately corrects. So I can totally get where you're coming from

And THANK YOU -

I mean it's not that I don't ship Gwen and Miles but if they didn't kiss in BTSV I wouldn't notice. Like if they implied they were gonna kiss and didn't I'd notice, but if they went the whole movie not even coming close to kissing once, I would not notice.

I wouldn't say I'm not invested in them, just not the romance element of it. I guess when I think of Miles and Gwen hanging out I think of Pavi and Hobie too. I'm never like 'awwww Miles and Gwen going on a dinner date' the way I am with Felicia Hardy and Peter Parker

And i FULLY expect Miles to be like 'why did you follow me?' or at least a little bit upset with Gwen. Like...if he doesn't I want Hobie to be like 'wait up no we need to talk about what just happened cause Gwen and Peter you owe him an apology.'

I really want the betrayal to have an emotional payoff or else the romance won't have an emotional payoff either.

I think the final scene they're in together shows how he feels about her so far - their last interactions were when he was leaving HQs and he cut her web and gave her an upset look. Then after that he leaned that she knew about all this.

So I think the next time he sees her he's still gonna be like 'nahhhhh wtf Gwen dont tell me my mama was right :((( '

I would be the development Gwen's character needs, being able to openly express her feelings enough to apologize and give Miles space to heal

[yuseirra]

Thank you so much for the reply I am in fact very happy in reading your analysis it has been a while since I have read such a good take and well thought argument plus looking more into your blog I am fascinated by your posts you are a new fav of mine looking foward your posts about OnK next chapters, I am once again super happy about your reply I love aquakana ;; you do a very good work I really admire your talent it is refreshing and necessary

Thanks anon :) oh, you're so welcome! I went straight to bed after replying to your message earlier, it was nice seeing your ask first thing as I hop on tumblr!/// Aaa thanks for the compliment! ;v;) I could be biased, but I totally mean what I say.

I'm not worried about Aqukana at all because in terms of the ships in onk, I'm looking at a even more complex one right now with a lot of mess being thrown out.

No worries anon, that ship is just too obvious. Things did get a bit messy and confusing in the middle, but I knew it was going to happen and I was excited to learn I was on the right track when stuff like ch 146 and 150-151 happened. That's how I started reading more intently again~ I was following the series, but I wasn't this invested. The one Aqua has romantic feelings for is Kana. It's just.. stated there at this point.

Speaking of which, I "ship" hikaai right? more like I support what's just there... If we compare them to math problems, Aqukana would be like a linear equation, while Hikaai'd be calculus. I believe.. that Hikaai is sorta the advanced question-version compared to Aqukana. When I'm trying to crack that nut, Aqukana is just.. a much much easier question to solve. That's why I don't worry about the former at all. The former is just too clear as day.

Oh, goodness, and I already stepped in with 90% conviction regarding them(hikaai I mean), I don't play a game I end up losing. But this manga is making it so hard for me, I swear. It's super stressful although I realize they're probably doing it for entertainment value and Hikaru was a character we know literally nothing about through the entirety of the story with him being pinpointed as the "evil mastermind", to make it even worse. They gotta fulfill people's expectations about him by portraying him as menacing at least once or twice when he encounters the protags, I get that, but it's such a rough road I signed myself into. I know I have a high chance of winning though.

Fatal and Mephisto is EXACTLY how Hikaru feels about Ai. I'm serious, I just knew it the moment I heard Fatal like the first few seconds in. It was incredible how it felt, it can't be any other way and I have conviction that the author has them on their mind. but GOD, they make me so nervous. This manga makes me so tense. I was worried that I got anything wrong ever since I picked up this series AGAIN for like the past two-three months? was it? because their situation, if I get it wrong, could be deemed as unhealthy and toxic(NONE OF THE "MESSED UP" THINGS TURNED OUT TO BE TRUE, I WOULDN'T HAVE HAD IT ANY OTHER WAY. I KNEW. I JUST KNEW IT WOULD PLAY OUT TO BE LIKE THIS. HIKARU CAN'T DO SH- I look at the guy and he's just... too mild to the point he is naive. Ai chose her man well!!! I swear this has to be where the story will go!!! this is how it will go!! I JUST KNEW!! Just wait okay?? I'm sure I'll be right in the end),

Oh, I'm so sorry;; I really get carried away when I talk about them lately, this is Aqukana we're talking about. The point is, there's nothing you have to worry about the ship or those two who are involved.

I tell you though, I'm serious about psychology and picking up people's emotions. Let me bring up the fact that I major in Psychology AGAIN!!! I REALLY look at these things intently. If I'm wrong, then okay, I guess, but the author should not depict those characters this way if what I predict are to be false. I haven't had an instance where what I predicted came to be too off. I don't think onk will be an exception.

I like aqukana too~/// I'm looking forward to their date in the anime! ;v;) They're the ones who get entire chapters dedicated to their dates, seriously. why would you do that to a ship that would flop if you're the writer, don't worry about them AT ALL. Really, don't worry. I don't feel my take is particularly unique or special. They're going to happen sooner or later.

Thank you!// You're looking forward to my analysis? It's an honor! I wish I DIDN'T need to put out analyses though ;v;... I love putting my ideas out here but I usually do it in the form of fanworks, not words. I didn't know I could talk on and on about something, but I just could not stay still and I guess that's what's been pushing me! Onk makes me so tense and I get relieved when they go on breaks (This applies even after 160. nervous laughs I can draw in "peace", just.. lately, every chapter they have makes me wrap my head so much and I need time to process, I can't do this anymore, HELP ME, it's pain, would have I liked it better if I didn't like this series and its characters as much and cared less? loving something is PAIN) but I will hold out and do my best! 'v')9 Let's have fun together. If the series makes me want to write out how I feel, then I will do just that. I'm sincerely grateful for those of you who tolerate me and/or even enjoy what I could offer!

If something about Aqukana pops up in the story, I'd love to draw them again too!~//They've been missing for some time and they really do need their moment, the author must know too and it will come and happen. This is something I'm sure of regarding this manga. I don't know HOW it will, but I know that it WILL. Believe me on this! :)

[stuckwithmys30lf]

Twelve years ago today on my 18th birthday, I opened a gift from my dad. Now, on the dawn of my 30th birthday, I couldn't tell you what the gift was. Dad might have been wearing a busy shirt and cargo shorts - traditional fatherly PNW garb. He probably pulled his pocket knife out to help me slice a few presents from the colorful wrapping paper my baby brother, just a year old, scribbled together. I know this is how it likely went, but time has created a canyon between then and now and the memory is fuzzy.

By this point, my family had imparted a very important rule in receiving gifts. When there is a card, you open it first. My parents, who were never together as long as I have been alive and disagreed on almost everything, still agreed on this. This cardinal law is one I still hold to a high regard specifically because the one from my dad is what I remember most on this particular birthday.

Every blank space my dad could find had been scribbled upon with his scratchy, small print. I imagined him in his office with a felt fine tip pen at hand, gushing over all the fatherly wisdom he wanted to impart on his only daughter, just now becoming an adult. Along with 17 other tips to keep on my mind as I ushered in this new phase, an 18th:

"Learn to love yourself, munchkin. At the end of the day, you are stuck with yourself."

At the time I felt this tip was redundant. Learn to love myself? I pondered on it. I already love myself. I didn't believe it, though. Through school, while bullies hurled insults about my body, my appearance, and my demeanor, I provided retorts that were drenched in faux positivity. I put on the performance of a lifetime, acting as though being constantly perceived in such a negative light was normal and I was handling it with grace. I was fully aware of my disingenuous nature and everyone around me felt it, too. But I felt as though if I faked it long enough, the positive affirmations I echoed about my body and my choices would start to feel real.

I'll tell you right now, it did not feel real yet when my high school boyfriend broke up with me and slept with our roommate that night when I was just 19. It didn't feel real when my next boyfriend cheated on me with my friend, or when I got fired from my first real job months later at 22. Not when another boy broke my heart at 24 by saying he didn't see a future with me because I was too emotional. Not even when that same boy tried running away to a cabin in the woods at the start of the pandemic years later, only to cancel days before and never talk to me again. Certainly not with the flings in between.

It didn't feel real when I said "I do" to a man I forced myself to love at 28, when I started to make myself smaller to make him feel bigger, or when I finally said "I can't have a child with someone like you." It didn't come to fruition until just before I asked my ex husband for a divorce just 10 months after the nuptials, at 29.

Not until I realized that I don't think there's anything a partner could ever offer me that I couldn't offer myself.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

These stories will be messy and never in the exact right order - an assumed warning for a blog about one's transition between 20's to 30's. They will chronicle heartbreak, sometimes my own, sometimes caused by me. I am, quite simply, just a girl.

If I am being honest, my hope is no one I know ever reads these. But, whether we know each other or not, I need you to know something.

You are stronger than you think. You can do hard things. The fact that you are alive today is all the proof I need. I need you to know this especially if you are a woman. I hope you can relate to the heartache, the triumph, the fighting, and all the philosophizing I will inevitably end up doing. Cheers to being hot and working towards better versions of ourselves.

[phantarein]

Hallo Rein, as someone who's been looking into getting gender affirming care do you mind telling me how the process went/is going for you? Like did you go alone or with family, or how did you do it for your doctor to prescribe you T or if they're nice or not, the whole process is really scary specially when i'm doing it alone so your experiencies might help me 🥲 Thank you in advance!

Hi hi! Well first of all, I don't actually remember that much...? It's been quite a long time so some details are foggy, but I'll try my best to help!

First, some context: my family took a long time to get used to my change and it was actually quite a horrible experience but in the end they got around to it and they helped me in each step of the way! So having anyone to support you emotionally or physically is quite important, however it's not impossible to do it without support!

So for the medical changes, it was actually my psychologist and psychiatrist who suggested I take the step, I wasn't going to do it originally but I did and it was one of the best decisions I made! So for some countries and stuff you need a psychiatrist to confirm if you're qualified for (in my case) testosterone. Then you gotta go to an endocrinologist so they make sure your body is able to accept the change, you have to take quite a bunch of blood tests too, personally I went to an online endocrinologist because it was hard to find one in my city. I got my first shot a month later, it costs around $100ish and it's an injection, I'm not sure if there are pills because there weren't any in my city. I've heard you can go to the hospital so they put the injection on you or do it alone, personally I went to a family member who is a nurse, but I want to learn how to do it alone.

I put the injection around October, so it's been almost three months, my next shot is in January, and the changes are very notorious in my case: my facial hair started growing quite rapidly, I gotta shave everyday, my voice got lower and more rough, I got a little bit taller (from 157cm to 160), but also I gained a lot of weight and got a lot of acne.

Now the most important part: The first week of T was the worst, I literally felt like my emotions were everywhere and I honestly wanted to die so bad, I got irritated for each and every detail and also couldn't stop feeling like shit. You'll fight with your loved ones and you'll be mean to yourself but remember that it's just a temporary feeling and it will go. Honestly I don't know if this is common because I take a lot of pills (lithium, olanzapine, brexpiprazol, Sertraline, Ambien...) but it was genuinely the worst.

But despite it I survived and now people perceive me as a man, if my voice was even deeper I'm sure they wouldn't even notice I am trans! Also in the medical field there have been goods and bads, when I went to the psych ward a nurse kept misgendering me and also dead naming me despite me telling her not to. But also for example, everyone else makes sure I feel comfortable and that I'm not dead named in the system once they realize I'm trans.

You don't know the euphoria of getting people to perceive you as you perceive yourself. Despite the microagressions and the mood swings, I feel like it's completely worth it.

May your journey be the way you want it to be, and if you ever want to talk more feel free to DM!

[the-paris-of-people]

8,12, and 17 for the nhie ask game 💕

8. What is your most unpopular opinion?

Oh boy, I have a lot.

Honestly my most unpopular opinion right now is that I don't think it would make sense for Manish and Kamala to get married at the end of nhie s4, and also I would be 100% fine with them splitting. I love Manish and Kamala individually a lot, but I'm not particuarly attached to them as a couple, and maybe it's just me projecting onto the characters, but Kamala's hesitancy to get married anytime soon/valuing her independence and agency is a journey I love and have taken and would love if the show focused more on that in the last leg rather than her and Manish's relationship, and I don't care if that occurs with or without him. I wouldn't mind if she and Manish ended up together though, as long as it was conducive to Kamala's journey.

My second unpopular opinion is that I'm a liiiiiiiiiiittle excited to see Ben and Margot date? Don't get me wrong, I 100% would prefer if Ben and Devi dated the entire season 4 (I stg if they don't have them interact until the last couple episodes I will scream) but I would like Ben to have a Des type experience where he gains confidence and realizes he's not this dick he makes himself out to be. Also I'm toxic and I want jealous Devi. Okay?? Selfishly, I just want her pining. But only for 3-4 episodes then they need to get it together.

12. What season has been your favorite so far?

UGH DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE!!! This was so hard because s1 had the most airtight plot and the experience of watching Devi as a protagonist was so special to to me, s2 was when I first started seeing the FULL POTENTIAL of Benvi and gave me some cxgf vibes, and s3 was when all the characters had the most amazing arcs, Nalini and Devi became closer, and we got that epic romcom finale so I'll have to choose s3. That was so hard though!

17. Anything you want to rant about? (Aka more unpopular opinions)

This is more fandom related, but I wish more people wrote adult Benvi! There are so many fics of them from when they were teens and younger and while I like that I would love more fics of them grown-up and happy! Also very few people can write Ben and Devi well, I feel like sometimes they're just general fics with their names in there and I wish there were more highly character specific fics.

Another unpopular opinion but I think Ben's episode in s3 was my least favorite s3 episode. I absolutely loved his s1 episode about his home life and I really liked the message of the s3 episode and his interactions with Devi and Paxton but I find Ben's internal monologue about pressure not as fun or interesting to watch as Devi's shenanigans. Honestly, now that I am writing it, I think it's bc the episode was about school that's why I didn't care as much LOL. I also am not the biggest fan of the redemption arc for his dad- like it annoys me that Ben needed that external validation to have the stress lifted off his shoulders when Howard has been a shitty parent. Not that it's not realistic but it was annoying.

I personally don't believe that Ben was in love with Devi or vice versa before that moment in the principal's office that piqued his interest in episode 2, just because I think love is a very deep emotion and I like the idea of them falling in love as they got to know each other than I like the idea of them being in love (whatever that means to you as a kid) and realizing it suddenly.

Not unpopular, but we need to have a discussion about how Devi has heart eyes tm jealousy tm love tm for Ben, and how the rest of the love interests serve to strengthen their relationship which I honestly kind of love. Essentially, there's not enough Devi loves Ben discussion on here so I need to see it. Going into my next point, Devi NEEDS to tell Ben how she feels. I need her to tell Ben when they're both finally single that she wants to be with him the last couple months they have of college, I need her to make a big dramatic love confession, I need her to explain her feelings and why she dated other people instead of him and how she wanted to date him. Like I need her leading the charge on all of this (and I'm 99% sure she will)

[thisispb]

You see, it's been a while.

How long has it been since I have actually poured my heart into my vulnerable space? As far as I could recall, I have tried composing in a way that is more poetic than ever. I have experimented, and I gotta say it's one of my outputs that I have actually poured my soul and sentiments into. However, for this entry, I refuse to do so as I have decided that it is best to write in a conversational manner which is what I believe I do best (yapping is my lifestyle).

Seven months into the year, five more until we cap it off. So many has happened already. I have loved, I have lost, I have excelled, and have inevitably grown counterproductive along the way. Admittedly, there are things that I wish i could take back; the things I regret that I took for granted that I wish I did not---the warm affection of my first love, the moments in which I should have spent with my departed dearests, the time I have lost due to procrastination and hesitation to put in the work, the rest I deserved but have deprived myself from, and the realizations I wish I realized sooner---all of these continue to linger. All these things in which I have mentioned never ceases to haunt me at night before I doze off, which results to the unhealthy and destructive spiral caused by regret. I try my best to have faith and get back on track and to get on with my life, but somehow, all these things are inculcated in my mind---immortal, everlasting, and beside me everyday.

On a lighter note, the year has five months to go, and I am confident that things are only going to get better from here. I know that these losses do not signify the end, but only a launching of a new dawn. Still, I wish they'd be here beside me and I'd still be able to regain everything that I have lost. I still have many, many opportunities to do so, yet at times I feel kind of anxious that maybe I'll just commit to the same mistakes over and over again. Don't worry though, I try not to. But have you ever been so concerned about something that it just naturally gives birth to negativity? Precisely. If there is one wish that I have for the year, it is that I would be able to make up for all of my losses. I know that my God is a generous God, and that His faith is enough to keep me sane. Hence, I I firmly stand by the fact that things are going to be okay. That it is going to be okay in spite of multitudes of problems that I have and am yet to encounter.

I try my best to stand firm. I try to move on and realize that there is no next time, so I have to make better decisions once the opportunity presents itself to me. I try my best to learn even when my head hurts already. i try my best to not allow my emotions to get the best of me, and this is all because it's been a while. It's only been a while, and there is no rush.

[cherryblossempearl]

Finally finished this piece of writing today woth the help of word!

Short Story

The comfort of soup

"Tonight's going to be chilly", Anabel said handing me a bowl of hot soup, "better eat up." I looked at the bowl of hot soup, this was my favorite, but I was not feeling hungry right now. "Thank you" I said half-heartedly, putting it on the cloth table next to me, of course I was thankful, but I had something else on my mind. "Is it still bothering you?" She said, guessing my emotions. I look up and her and nod, "I know it happened a few months ago but still," I say with tears in my eyes.

"That guy didn't even deserve you anyway" she says with a grunt, "do you want me to do anything to make you feel better?" She looked at me with a sad smile. "I don't like seeing you like this," she said giving me a hug made for comfort. "I'll be fine," I say trying to hold back tears. "Ava...You're not fine" Anabel shook her head in disaproval, "No one is after a breakup." "Breaking up was the easy part," I look up at her, "It's the fact that he left me for his best friend that he cheated with," I said trying to hold back rage.

Anabel widened her eyes, "you never told me this part," she sat down on the couch and looked at me with a questioned look. "You're not mad?" I looked at her, wondering why she was so calm. "Well-being angry at him isn't going to help you first of all," she said giving me a spoon. Second, your sisters already got that down, she said with a chuckle. I smiled. My sisters were the best, always so protective of me. "Me and Heather had to hold Claire back because of it, she was that angry," I say with a smile, it was nice that people cared. "Seriously though she even scared me," Anabel said with disbelief, "She usually so calm." "You just haven't seen her like I have yet, I am her sister after all," I said giggling.

i look at Anabel who was laughing along and smiled, "Thanks Ana," I said taking her hand. "Ava that's what's best friends are for," She grinned, "but I'm definitely glad I made you feel better."

I then look to realize the soup that was still on the table, "it's cold now," I say to myself. Frowning, I pick up the cold soup and just stare at it. "Are you going to eat that?" Anabel looked at me staring at my soup, "Why are you staring at it?" I looked up at her, "Sorry Ana, I let the soup get cold, I'm going to warm it up," I said, getting up too so I could put it in the microwave. I kept staring at the soup as if it were in the microwave, I frowned a bit, Anabel had made this fresh just for me, and I had let it run cold by talking about myself. Thanks to Ana, I had gained back my appetite, I grabbed the now hot soup from the microwave, almost burning my hands. Holding the soup, I quickly put the bowl down on the table and washed my hands with icy water. Anabel smiled, "at least now it isn't cold," she said smirking. "Ha very funny ana," I say with a sarcastic smile, then looked at her, "are you going to eat?" She looked at me with tired eyes, "Nah, I think I'm going to go to bed in a bit, it's getting pretty late."

I look at the microwave clock, twelve-thirty, was it that late? "I should be going," I say, gulping down the hot soup, and burning my sensitive tongue. "Woah, slow down, you know it's not healthy for you to do that," Anabel said getting me a glass of water, in which I drank in seconds, "Don't want ya burning on me," she smiled, but looked me up and down for any injuries. "I'm fine Ana really,' I say with a confident tone, even though I knew how dangerous that could be for me. She sighs and lays back down on the couch with a hump, "anyways you can stay if you want, it's nice having you here," she said with a sleepy grin. I blushed a little, "Thanks Ana, you're really the best." She is silent for a second in a half, "I'm going to get changed," she said with a soft beam, and walked toward her bedroom. "Ok night Ana!" I say turning back to my soup, seeing my reflection grinning.

[mcjour]

doot doot doot gotta start typing cuz i'm losing my fucking mind

i'm feeling a lot of feelings right now but i never found a healthy way to express my feelings growing up so i kind of feel like i am drowning and exploding and suffocating and bottling it the fuck up as well.

also i am supposed to start my period at any moment now so i am sure that is only amplifying the emotions.

my mom and stepdad have covid. let's stop right there. because i'm sure my mom thinks i'm mad at her for getting sick. if you're reading this, first of all, fuck you for reading my stuff. secondly, i'm not mad about that. because i realize it's just chance that it was you. and unavoidable in this shit society we live in that doesn't take a pandemic seriously.

but i am still pissed about all of the circumstances surrounding it.

first of all, the awful timing of it all. i am due back at school in a week. i am not going to be thrilled if i have to already use up sick days in my first week back!

but more than that, i have been sooo looking forward to going back to school. i fucking love back to school season, first of all!! but i am finally happy and stable with my job for once in my whole life. i am excited to return back to that. not to mention that i missed the beginning of the year last year because i was placed in a different assignment. this is my first time doing kindergarten screenings, my very first first day of kindergarten. i am so excited to do it. a little nervous too of course, but an excited nervous. now that is all up in the air.

just a couple months ago, i had to miss the school concert performance and my birthday because i was sick. those were devastating losses to me. even though life is cyclic and i always have next year. that didn't make me any less sad. i was straight up sobbing in the shower to the point that my mom asked if she needed to call an ambulance.

and i think that is a trigger for me too, getting too excited for things and too happy about things and getting them swiped away in an instant. or getting let down. it's the city year trauma, the birthday trauma, all the trauma.

and i've been trying my best to be careful too. i heard about the spikes. i've been doing outdoor stuff. when i've gone to the movie theater, i've specifically sought out the 9am showings even though it is a pain to get up that early. i've been putting off a target trip for weeks because again, i don't want to get up early to go at a non busy time. i could be doing more and all that, i'm far from perfect. but it is a bit frustrating. especially since i knew i wanted to cool things down before school started to make sure there was no chance of anything!!! and here we are.

and it's also just what a miserable society we live in. because okay, maybe i am safe this time. maybe the week passes and i never end up catching it. okay. well i'm sure it'll go around school in another 2-3 weeks. maybe i'll catch it then. great. so what was the point of all this.

part of me thinks i should just intentionally catch it now and get it overwith. again though, can't guarantee timing and i would hate to miss work over it. and also, duh, covid is not something you play around with. i don't want to intentionally infect myself with something that could actually end up disabling me long term/ forever.

i also spent all of last week at school so i could still have this week off to have fun. blah.

another thing that is bothering me is the germs. generally speaking, i am a major germophobe and i think everyone knows that about me. so i already spend enough time paranoid about catching various illnesses. so this is like bringing it to the next level. because all i can think about is all of the germs swarming around me in the air. i feel like it is inevitable that i will get sick. and here i am, just a sitting duck.

and what really pisses me the fuck off is that they don't seem to care. and i know they do. they are holed up in their bedroom, they are wearing a mask when they have to, etc. so it's not that they don't care.

but..... they are still parading around the house. they are shutting windows. are you absolutely fucking kidding me. i know it's a little chilly at night, but it's still summer. it's not winter. just grab an extra blanket or sweater or something. you talk about claustrophobia? that's how i feel with the same covid air floating around the house.

and i am not sure why you guys need to be walking around the house anyway? i offered to bring food to you. but i guess then you can't cling to your theory about how i am such a selfish and awful daughter.

in what world does it make sense to stand around the kitchen for an hour waiting for the pizza to heat up.

literally i wouldve heated the pizza up for you come the fuck on.

i wish i could move around the house but it doesn't feel safe. because of the windows shutting and the repeated passing through. why would i stay down there. but it doesn't feel safe in my room because it is right next to theirs, so every time they open their door, the trapped covid air must fly straight into my room. okay, maybe not. but to someone who is wildly anxious about germs, it is hard to convince your brain otherwise!!!!!

like this week would be the perfect time to start building my new lego set. however, i can't really do it in my room because i don't have like a table or even a hard surface that i could work at. i usually do all my building of new sets downstairs. well. why the fuck would i do that. downstairs is contaminated.

i don't get it, i'm not the one who is sick, so why am i the one who is most quarantined.

i know i can go outside of the house, but where tf would i go??? first of all, i've obviously had exposure, so i would feel guilt going anywhere. secondly, i'm a homebody as it is. so i'm not exactly going to have fun going out for the sake of getting out of the house.

if you still read that whole thing, again fuck you for reading my private stuff. this isn't a guilt trip. if it was, i would say it to your face. i am just so wildly unhappy right now that i needed to get all my feelings out. i have been sobbing non stop in the next room. you wouldn't know that. you never know.

and that i think pisses me off the most. i wish i had someone i could talk to about this. i have a therapy appointment tomorrow, so susan will definitely be hearing it. but wouldn't it be nice to have an actual mom to talk to. who would hear my worries and not try to spin it into how i am coming after her or guilting her or how she is the true victim in all of this. i'm not saying i have it worse than them. covid is awful and of course i feel bad that they are going through that. but it's always a competition of who has it worst. why can't i also be going through something.

why should i feel selfish about having big emotions about this? this effects more than just you.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 9 - FINALE)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: smut (oral f receiving), semi-public sex (in a parked car) angst, arguments, implied smut, sappiness, time skips, some alcohol consumption here and there, lots of talking about issues including bucky's ptsd, I really have no idea how to warn for this but IT’S THE END SO STRAP IN FOLKS

Since that night, it had been like a stand-off in a Western movie, none of you saying anything because you had no idea what to say. Whenever he tried to start the conversation, you brushed him off.

You took a cab home from the event. He slept in his own room for the first time in months.

Finally, suddenly, you were ready to talk about it nearly 30 hours later, knocking on the guest room door and entering to find Bucky on his bed, re-reading Flowers for Algernon. He sat up quickly and shut it, setting it aside. “Hey,” he greeted softly, hesitant like you were a deer in a clearing and he was extending a handful of grain in his palm.

“Hey,” you returned, already fighting back your emotions. “I think I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m ready to listen.”

“I just… I want to make sure that you understand this is a really big deal.”

He nodded again.

“I had to do a lot of damage control to prevent being banned from all HFPA events— that includes the Golden Globes, you know, I can’t exactly skip those just because my boyfriend went fucking nuts at a party.” And there was the anger again— you had tried to wait until you could be neutral about this but it barely lasted, mainly because you were still embarrassed about the way you’d handled yourself that night. “You’re lucky not many people saw; you’re lucky no reporters were there! Can you imagine if someone had a fucking picture of this? There were cameras everywhere, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” he defended. “I saw you with him and he was touching you and I just… I saw red.”

You sighed slowly. “That’s not a good thing. That’s really, really concerning.”

“I know, I agree— you’re right. I need…” he trailed off, taking a breath before starting over. “I need to work on that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I just… I can’t really be a part of that. You need to work on that on your own.”

He stood up instantly, almost looking… afraid? Terrified, really, and heartbroken. “On my own, like what? What does that mean?”

“It means that I think maybe you should go back to your own apartment for a while. I just… need to be alone for a bit.”

“You need to be alone?” he repeated. “Or you need to be away from me?’

“Both.”

His head fell into his hands instantly. "Please don't tell me I fucked this up," he whimpered. "Please don't tell me I ruined this."

"I— I don't know."

"Please, please, please," he sighed, just louder than a whisper, suddenly stepping forward, grabbing your hand and clutching it to his chest. "Look at me," he begged.

You did, hesitantly, fighting everything in you that wanted to cry (and not doing so good of a job at it).

"Please, I lo—"

"Don't," you grimaced. "Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"It doesn't matter!" you yelped, surprising both of you with your volume.

“Are we going to have a chance to talk about this again? Am I going to get a chance to make it up to you?”

“You don’t make it up to me, you fix it. And that takes time.”

He shook his head, looking shocked and confused and completely blindsided which made you feel sick to your stomach. “How long?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Am I not going to see you at all, for however long it takes?” he pressed.

“I… that’s sort of the idea.”

He shivered and pulled you into a hug. “Please don’t hate me forever,” he whispered against the top of your head.

“I don’t hate you,” you promised, doing your best not to hug him back even though all you wanted was to wrap yourself around him and feel safe in his arms again.

“Then don’t make me go,” he pleaded as he pulled back, clutching your face. “Let me stay and we can work through this together.”

“That’s not how this works,” you reminded him

“But I don’t know how to be without you,” he explained shakily.

“That’s not really my problem!” you yelped, and he turned away like he’d been slapped, dropping his hands from your face. A long, heavy silence fell between you as you watched him stand there, contemplating.

“If this is my last chance,” he finally spoke softly, barely breaking the silence, “to say everything I want to say…”

“It’s not,” you assured. “We’re going to talk about this again, but you need to go now.”

He nodded, his adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow of nothing. When he looked at you again, you hated how much bluer his eyes looked when they were bloodshot and filled with tears. “Can I kiss you?”

You shook your head. He bit his lip and turned to walk away; you stared at your feet because you couldn’t watch him go.

You heard him grab his backpack, shoving a few things from the drawers into it; he set his key on the table, walked into the open hall, and as soon as you heard the front door open and shut you were plunged into solitude and silence. With a whimper, you crumpled to the floor and cried, the look of betrayal on his face burned into your mind.

It was obvious, to your horror, that he really hadn’t seen it coming; he hadn’t packed his things, or prepared in any way for the conversation going like that. He had been waiting for an olive branch and got a switch to the face instead. You didn’t know anything about working on relationships, repairing broken things… when something went wrong, all you knew how to do was bail.

You knew how to do a new take and say the line right this time. You knew how to take off your eyeliner and start over. You knew how to kick unsuspecting C-listers out of cars because you already got yours. But you didn’t know how to stay, and work, and frankly you were just too scared to try. Last time you tried to make it work, you got burned. And as much as a logical part of you knew that wasn’t Bucky’s fault or responsibility, your heart just couldn’t survive another relationship where you put everything into putting the pieces back together while the other person stood there and watched you just to pull them apart again.

It had to end at some point, right? It was you, it was him… and that’s just how these things go.

//

He knew it was too good to be true. He knew you were too good for him. Anybody with at least one eyeball and half a brain could see that. But still, he hadn’t been ready to let you go.

Being in his apartment felt like stopping in a ghost town; there might as well have been a tumbleweed rolling through the living room. It was beyond a bachelor pad: it was more like an unfinished work site, considering his ‘couch’ was cinderblocks and a few two-by-fours, and his bed was a mattress on the floor.

One toothbrush. No books. A half-empty shampoo bottle in the shower and some hard water stains he needed to scrub away at some point.

This place didn’t feel like a home, it barely felt like a livable space. It was a three-dimensional homage to how empty his life had been before you, and he realized that was only his own fault.

Then again, this was all his fault.

But still, he had let himself obsess over you, turn you into his whole world and it made him into somebody he didn’t want to be. He had been working so hard to keep you happy, inspired more than anything by his fear to lose you, that he’d forgotten to give you space and now here he was… giving you so much more space than he ever wanted to, or knew how to deal with.

But he wanted to use this, if he could. As much as it was tempting to binge on junk food, drink too much and watch porn for an hour, as much as he wanted to run away from everything he was feeling, he owed it to you and to himself to face it all and learn from it. He wanted to be the man you deserved, if that was even humanly possible; he wanted to be who you used to think he was.

//

The next week went by in a blur: a blur filled with shitty romcoms, Ben & Jerry’s straight from the carton, and phone calls ignored.

It would all be fine with time, you knew that, but god, it fucking hurt now. It made you want to call him and at least apologize for having sex with him when you knew he wouldn’t have wanted to if he knew you were upset. More time and distance from the situation made you appreciate that it was manipulative, even if it by no means justified the way he grabbed you, or shoving anybody in the first place.

Truth was, you were scared of Bucky long before that happened. You were scared of how strong your feelings were for him; and, in turn, you were scared of how strong his feelings were for you. You felt loved by him, and you didn’t know what to do with that. So you self-destructed.

Just in time to tear you out of your spiralling thoughts, the intercom buzzed from the front gate. You furrowed your brow, wondering who it could be, and got up to check the camera feed.

You couldn’t see the face of the driver, just his arm, but you’d recognize that Rolex on his wrist anywhere.

“What do you want?” you asked coldly, holding down the intercom talk button.

"Let me in," Sam instructed.

"And why should I?"

"Cause if you don't, I'll press charges against your boyfriend."

BEEP BEEP BEEP! the gate announced its opening.

You took the time while he parked his car and walked to the door to throw out the wrappers from all your questionable “meals” (i.e., candy and ramen), change into slightly nicer sweats and splash your face so you looked slightly less dead. Just as you came downstairs from your rushed primping, Sam knocked on the door and you turned off the TV, tossing the remote aside. “It’s open!” you called out.

He turned the knob and stepped in with just one foot, peering around.

“Is the Terminator home?” he asked coyly. “Cause I actually think I’ve been assaulted enough for one week.”

“No, he’s gone. And don’t call him that.”

“What?” he shrugged, finally coming all the way in and letting the door swing shut on its own, taking his shades off and sliding them into the collar of his v-neck shirt. “It’s a compliment, and you really invite the killer robot comparisons when you’re part robot, look like a killer, and act like a thug.”

“He’s sensitive about the arm, okay? It’s one of the reasons he… it’s part of why we waited so long to go public.”

Sam glanced down to beside the door, where three pairs of your shoes were haphazardly lined up while his boots were noticeably absent. “And the fact that he’s moved out? When’s that gonna go public?” He always had an eye for these things, the bastard.

“I… I don’t know,” you sighed. “What do you want, exactly? Because honestly, I really can’t handle you right now.”

“I’m just trying to be a friend,” he explained, stepping closer again as you leaned against the breakfast bar.

“You seemed a lot more than friendly on Saturday,” you reminded him. “God, Sam, why did you have to do that?”

“So it’s my fault, then?” he rolled his eyes.

“No, of course not,” you assured, “but you knew I wasn’t single. I was actually happy… did you even want me back? Or did you just want to fuck with my life?”

“I did want you back, really.” He paused for a moment, more serious than he almost ever got. “I still do.”

You scoffed, looking away. “What happened to just being a friend?”

“That’s not why I’m here, this time. I’m just here to tell you that I’m worried about you.”

You took your weight off the bar and circled it into the kitchen, Sam mirroring you by following around the other side. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge. He opened his mouth to answer but then leaned in as he stared at your hand where it was right in front of his face gripping the refrigerator’s door handle.

"He did that to you?" Sam pointed to the bruise on your wrist. You let go of the fridge and pulled your sleeve down to cover it again but that was answer enough. "Jesus, babe, this guy's fucking crazy."

"He's not crazy, and don't call me that," you frowned. "I don't think he meant to, really— his prosthetic is powerful and it was in need of a recalibration. He shouldn’t have grabbed me, but, he probably didn’t mean to do it so hard.”

Sam didn’t seem too convinced by that explanation, but didn’t say anything.

“Believe it or don’t, Sam, but either way it’s none of your business,” you frowned.

“Right, I know,” he nodded. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s you?” you pressed with an incredulous raised brow, opening the fridge again to grab yourself a green juice (because you were, again, trying to look like you had your shit together) and starting to walk away.

“I’ve changed, believe it or not,” he explained as he followed you out of the kitchen again. “Occasionally, people are capable of that.”

“If that’s true, then I owe it to Bucky to wait for him like I said I would,” you shot back. “I told him to leave so we could work on things separately. Not so I could entertain your come-to-Jesus moment.”

“It’s not a ‘come-to-Jesus’ moment, it’s just a ‘give me another chance’ moment,” he corrected as you took a long sip of the juice, “it’s a ‘maybe we ended things too soon’ moment.”

You looked at him in silent judgment as you kept drinking, and the way he was looking at you made you glad the glass bottle was keeping your lips occupied.

“It’s an ‘I’m still in love with you’ moment.”

Before you could stop yourself, you spit the juice right onto him, covering your mouth in shock just a moment too late.

For one of those indefinite moments, you were just staring at each other while you both contemplated that you had said he loved you and you had spat juice onto him.

“Okay, I was prepared to get shot down,” he admitted. “This is… worse.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, trying not to laugh, “I… I’ll get some paper towels, I can get you a new shirt, but it’ll have to be one of the ones Bucky left behind…”

“Oh god, it’s sticky,” he grimaced, as he tried to peel his shirt from his skin, “can I just use your shower maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you nodded, “upstairs and down—”

“I remember where it is,” he reminded you as he stepped past you to make his way to the bathroom. “I knew I should’ve waited to say it until she was done drinking…” you heard him mumble to himself before he disappeared and you heard the bathroom door shut.

But truthfully, it wasn’t really the fact that he said it, or the concept of Sam loving you at all that made you spit out your drink. It was that when he said it, you realized you were in love with Bucky. Which, yes, would’ve been obvious to anyone else but it came as quite a shock to you.

It made you realize that you wanted to make this work. You wanted to be vulnerable, you wanted to try, even if it ended just as badly as it nearly had last week; even if it meant dealing with all the shit that you’d pushed down for so long.

You wanted to have another chance, this time knowing how hard it would be to be without him.

Just as you pondered what to do with that realization, a knock at the door startled you. Who could have made it to the door without buzzing the intercom?

Somebody who has the gate code already, you realized, and your heart sank. You weren’t ready to see him again— specifically, you weren’t ready to be seen by him again. Sure, cleaning up the trash and splashing your face was enough for a guest like Sam, but you had been imagining that when you saw Bucky again you’d be all dolled up looking like you were doing better than ever, like you were thriving without him just to rub it in that you were the best he ever had.

Couldn’t he have just waited a few hours after your realization so you could go to him on your own terms, with your whole speech prepared and everything? As an actress, you were much more comfortable reading lines than improvising.

Another knock made you sigh and set down the half-empty bottle of green juice, running up to the door to answer it.

“Hi,” he greeted soberly when you opened the door.

“Hey,” you nodded back, “listen, now’s not a great time…”

“Listen, I’m not here to cause any problems, or ask you for anything, I just need some of my stuff back,” he explained.

“Okay, it would’ve been better if you had come at another time—”

“I know, I’m not trying to invade your space,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have used the gate code, I didn’t mean to surprise you, honestly it was just second nature but I realize now I should’ve called first— well, I don’t think you’re taking my calls right now—”

“Bucky, please, we can talk later,” you assured, trying to shut the door.

“Can we?” he sighed. “I mean, will we?”

“Yes, but I’m busy right now,” you explained.

“When?” he asked, voice full of hope. “Soon?”

“I— I don’t know, sure,” you shrugged.

“You’re just saying that to get me to leave,” he realized flatly. “I understand, I don’t blame you— god, I just hate how scared you are of me. I’m everything I never wanted to be. I just wanted to keep you safe and now I can’t even do that, now you think of me as a threat. You should have the gate code changed, if it’ll make you sleep better—”

“I sleep fine, just go and we’ll deal with all of this soon— really, I promise!”

“You promised before and this week without you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!” he returned, getting more emotional as he gestured with his hands. “I’m not saying this should all go away in a week, there’s so much more I have to do, but… but not being able to see you at all is killing me. And it’s not like I don’t see you, your movies are on every fucking channel, but you know, I don’t get to really see you, talk to you— that’s what I miss, I miss when we would talk for hours.”

“I miss that too,” you agreed, “it’s all going to happen, it’s just that I need you to go right now—”

And of course, Sam picked just the right time to come running down your staircase with only a towel around his waist.

Bucky tensed up as he saw Sam, jaw tightening. "Oh."

You had no idea what would happen. Was Bucky going to attack him again? Would Sam try to hit Bucky? Were you going to drop dead from sheer embarrassment?

Instead, Bucky just sighed a little and looked to the ground, almost laughing though he seemed anything but amused. “You’ve got a funny idea of what ‘being alone’ means,” he sneered.

“Sam was just—” you began to defend.

"No, it’s okay, I see how it is," Bucky informed you quietly, coldly. He didn’t even seem angry anymore, just defeated. "I'll leave. I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry."

And he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, it's not—"

He shrugged your hand away as he kept walking, forcing you to chase him.

"Don't leave, please— Bucky, I love you too."

He stopped, but didn't turn around yet; you just stood behind him, staring at his back as it rose and fell with a slow breath. When he looked back at you, his eyes were red, brimming with tears and heartbreak. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you promised.

“And what does that mean for us?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted.

“I don’t think I’m ready to come back yet. As much as I miss living with you— and as much as my apartment is so gross—”

You giggled a little, glad you could laugh with him again even if just for a second.

“I need more time. I’m not going to subject you to me until I know I can be… stable, again.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Whatever you need.”

“But maybe we could… go out sometime? Somewhere where there aren’t paparazzi, ideally?”

“Uh, Vermont?” you offered jokingly. “I’ll find somewhere, though. We’ll talk this all out.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing a little. “Okay.”

With obvious hesitance, he leaned in slightly and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You wanted more than anything to get up on your tiptoes and kiss his lips, but it was probably too soon. He smiled down at you slightly before he turned to walk away, and you did the same as you made it back into the house.

“Hey, listen,” you began as you found Sam still waiting in a towel looking completely lost.

“That doesn’t sound like the beginning of good news,” he sighed.

“I’m so glad you were honest with me and I’m still really sorry for spitting on you, and for Bucky shoving you, and for everything awful that went down between us. And some part of me is always gonna love you, but—”

“I know,” he nodded, clearly disappointed but resigned in a peaceful way. “It’s okay. I had my chance, I blew it, and if this Bucky guy has his then I just hope he isn’t taking it for granted.”

You smiled a little. “He’s not.”

“Then I’ll get dressed and go. Please direct me to his favorite shirt, so that I may steal it,” he requested formally, making you laugh, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet; instead, you stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re a good friend, Sam,” you mumbled against his bare chest.

“Yeah, kinda wish I wasn’t though,” he sighed as he hugged you back.

“Kinda wish I’d made you get dressed before hugging you,” you admitted, the awkwardness of his nudity finally catching up with you.

“Yeah…” he agreed in a whispered sigh.

//

His palms were actually sweaty; well, at least one of them was. He hadn’t been this worked up about a date since high school.

But there was so much more riding on that now than there was then. If he blew this, you probably would dump him for good, and he’d become ‘that guy Y/N Y/L/N dated for a minute’ to the rest of the world.

And there was so much more to him than that— he was learning to really let that shine after three weeks of therapy on Mondays and Thursdays— and so much more to his relationship with you, but it would still be pretty humiliating. More importantly, he would be heartbroken if he never got a chance to hold you again, kiss you again, tell you he loved you not during a fight…

His eyes glanced to the door instinctively when someone stepped in, but it still wasn’t you. He checked his watch and closed his eyes: it was still a few minutes early, you probably wouldn’t be here until 6:30, since that was when you’d agreed to meet when you discussed all this over text. But the length of time between 6:27 and 6:30 just seemed to keep getting longer and longer.

When you finally walked in, it was like one of those movie moments where everything slowed down, the ambient noise and background music faded away, and all he could see was you. If this was it, at least he got to see you like this one last time.

He waved you over, watching you walk closer and feeling his heart race as you pulled him into a hug.

“I missed you,” he blurted out right away.

“Missed you too,” you mumbled back, pulling from the embrace as he moved to pull out your chair for you.

“So,” he began as he sat down, “do you… want me to go first? Or do you want to go first?”

“I love you,” you said instantly, and he couldn’t fight a wide smile.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” you grinned, “I think you should go first.”

“Well, now that you say that suddenly I forget everything I’ve been practicing in the mirror all day,” he chuckled. “I already told you I’ve been in therapy, and they finally got me on stuff for my PTSD… it feels weird to say it, to talk about it like I really have it… but I do, and I’m working on not being ashamed of that. What I am ashamed of is the way I treated you that day, how I let my anger get the best of me and how I hurt you when you’re the most important person in my life. You didn’t deserve that. And if I haven’t said it enough, I’m truly sorry.”

“I know,” you nodded, “thank you. I’m glad you’re getting help… I don’t want to see you like that for your own sake, too.”

“Just because you don’t hate me doesn’t mean you have to forgive me. And just because you forgive me doesn’t mean you have to take me back,” he reminded you softly.

“But I do forgive you, and I do want you back,” you promised. “And I want to apologize, too, for the things I did wrong… obviously it’s basically impossible for me to hurt you physically, you’re so much stronger than I am, but I hurt you with how I handled some things and I regret that.”

“It did hurt, but I still reacted poorly at basically every turn. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous of Sam in the first place, if you and him have something going on then that’s none of my business—”

“Of course it’s your business, Bucky, you’re my boyfriend!” you laughed. “You don’t need to be jumping for joy when I talk to my ex, you just need to not be that aggressive about it.”

“Am I your boyfriend?” he asked sheepishly. “Is he your ex?”

"When you came over the other day, and he was there… nothing happened, really. He came over, I told him I didn't want to be anything more than friends, he asked to use my shower… I don't know how to prove it to you—"

"You don't have to," he shook his head. "If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."

“I mean, we hugged,” you remembered. “And he took your Fleetwood Mac shirt.”

“He what?” Bucky yelped, but then calmed himself down immediately. “Whatever, it’s fine, the point is that I have a lot of shit I still need to work on. Because the truth is, you’re not mine—”

“No, I—”

“Really, you’re not. You’re your own person. That’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place, I love that you’re independent and strong and… maybe a little crazy, but you’re exactly who you need to be. You don’t belong to me.”

“I don’t mind belonging to you as long as it’s fair, Bucky; as long as we belong to each other.”

“Sweetheart, you always had me,” he laughed. “From day one.”

“Then let’s figure your shit out. Believe it or not, I’ve got shit too… commitment issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues—”

“Ooh, I have that one too!” he beamed, making you laugh. “You know, when I was talking to my therapist, she had me do this thing where I talked about my hopes and stuff and, I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb but I wanted us to do that. I want to know what you’re hoping for for this.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “well, I’m hoping that you’ll move back in soon but not right away, maybe in a few months? I want us to get better at being apart, it’ll come in handy when I have to go to far off places for filming and stuff.”

“Totally with you,” he agreed, “might have to start buying some real furniture for my place though.”

“What about you?” you prompted.

“I’m hoping that you still think I'm cute enough to put up with some of my crap," he smirked, "if not all of it."

"Definitely," you grinned.

“I’m hoping that in the future, if you’re upset, you’ll tell me and we can work it out, and then have make-up sex," he added.

“Deal,” you chuckled.

“And, if I’m being honest,” he continued, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, “I’m hoping that I can take you home tonight.”

It was so simple, but it made a shiver run down your spine. This distance had caused more than just your heart to grow fonder, and you were craving his touch more than ever. “Where’s home?” you asked coyly.

“It’s wherever you wanna go,” he purred. “Your place, my place, the back of your car—”

“That one,” you nodded eagerly, “definitely that one.”

//

You wanted to go right then and there but he made you sit through the whole dinner, with all the trappings of wining and dining, though for you it sometimes felt more like whining and dying because you needed him so bad you couldn't think. But he stayed patient, keeping up the conversation, asking more about a new project you were tentatively linked with, telling you more about the newest improvements to his prosthetic.

He picked up the check, which was absurd to you but he insisted, and escorted you to your car as if his intentions were just gentlemanliness even though you knew it was far worse than that.

He (gently) pinned you up against the side of the car, kissing you slowly, making you melt like it was no effort for him at all. As his lips made their way to your ear, he whispered to you darkly, "get in the back and spread your legs for me."

You were sure you'd never obeyed an instruction so fast, hopping in and happily watching him climb in behind you. He instantly knelt down between your spread legs, holding you by your thighs as he pushed your dress up, and you were already lifting your hips up to let him pull your panties down to your ankles.

"So eager," he whispered happily, kissing his way up one of your legs and never breaking his gaze away from yours. Your mouth fell slack as you watched him get higher and higher, closer to where you were already dripping with need. "Been wanting to do this since that night, however many months ago, where I had to watch somebody else do this to you," he admitted with a grin that nipped at your inner thighs. "I know I've tasted you a thousand times since then, but I wanted to do it here."

There was a lot you could say to that, but it was all lost to a gasp as he licked one long, thin stripe right across your entrance and over your clit. Already you were shaking and grabbing his hair— he'd grown it out just enough that you could really dig your fingers into it, but even so he kept his teasing pace.

He kept going, that slow and torturous cycle where just as your clit got some much-needed attention, he started back over at your leaking opening again.

"The fuck are you doing down there, trying to figure how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" you finally groaned, making him chuckle at how demanding you'd become.

"I'm just making sure I do this right," he dismissed. "Want more, baby?"

"Please," you shuddered. "Need your tongue inside me."

He grinned and put you out of your misery, really latching his lips onto you now as he pushed his tongue inside and curled it against your g-spot. It was enough to make your back arch dramatically and your fingers clench on his hair, a little growl echoing out of his mouth and into your body in response.

Your legs were accidentally clamping down on his head each time he sucked on your clit, but he didn't seem to mind, if anything it egged him on.

"C-close, so close," you chanted our warning as his hands tightened on your thighs he gave wide laps to your throbbing button.

"Say you love me baby," he mumbled his demand against your skin.

"Bucky, yes, I love you," you whimpered. "Love you so much, fuck, I'm gonna come…"

He nodded as he wrapped his lips around your clit and kept sucking, harder than ever, until your whole body was literally quaking and you weren't sure if you had closed your eyes or if your vision just went black for a second. As if that weren't enough, he kept going until you had to push him off of you by his forehead, shivering and catching your breath as aftershocks rocked your body.

"You're so amazing," he groaned huskily as he sat up and pulled you into a rough kiss, the taste of your pleasure coating your tongue as it tangled with his. Just as you were about to reach down and attempt to operate his belt buckle with your tingling fingers, he pulled back from the kiss a moment too soon. "And now you get to drive yourself home," he grinned, patting you on the cheek reassuringly.

"What? That's it?!" you squawked.

"You just came so hard you nearly blacked out and you're asking me if that's it?" he smirked incredulously.

"I just thought you would want to, you know… go all the way," you explained, cringing at the immature phrase.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman, and this is still our first date," he reminded you.

"But aren't you, you know…?"

"Oh, I am," he nodded quickly, leaning in to bite at your neck. "Don't worry about me, princess, I can take care of myself." He chuckled at your whimper and pulled back to look right into your eyes. "But it's not about me, is it? You want my cock all for yourself, don't you?"

You nodded, making him giggle sweetly.

"Well, you're just gonna have to wait," he cooed, poking the tip of your nose with his finger and laughing harder at your needy whine. "We'll go out again next weekend and maybe if it goes well, it'll lead to something more, alright?"

"Okay," you sighed, "I can wait a week. I think."

He smiled and kissed you again, helping you pull your panties back up and rubbing your thigh appreciatively. "Goodnight," he whispered against your lips, slipping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

You sighed and let your head fall back against the seat, watching out the window as he walked back to his bike. You hated to see him go, but you did love watching him walk away.

//

two years later…

“Will the Six Million Dollar Man be joining us?” Sam asked with a smirk as he glanced to the door of the bowling alley, checking to see if anyone had walked in.

“When he gets off of work,” you promised.

“Why do you call him that?” Natasha asked Sam innocently.

“You’ll see,” Sam promised, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek, but you figured there was a pretty good chance she wouldn't get the reference anyway.

Right on cue, Bucky appeared in the doorway and you and Sam waved him to the correct lane. “Hey guys,” he greeted, “hey babe,” he pulled you into a quick kiss. “And happy birthday, Sam.”

“Shh, keep it down, we don’t want any Hollywood people to find out that I’m aging,” Sam joked. “Are you gonna join the game or just observe?”

“I’ll join, if it’s not too late,” Bucky decided.

“Since when do you bowl?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Since I got the prosthetic recalibrated to throw the perfect strike every time,” he winked.

Beers and turns went pretty quickly after that, light conversation interspersed in between, until the more raucous parts of the evening died down and you left Bucky for a moment to join Sam at the bar.

Sam nodded to acknowledge you as you leaned beside him, and you ordered yourself one more drink before you called it a night.

“So, Natasha,” you started the conversation, watching the way Sam couldn’t hide his smile. “She’s great.”

“Yeah, she’s really something,” he agreed. “I wanted you guys to meet her sooner, but you were gone filming for so long and all.”

“Don’t fuck this one up, Sam,” you threatened.

“I’m trying not to!” he defended, before looking around like he was trying to make sure no one was looking. As you furrowed your brow and wondered what he was up to, he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and showed you a picture: a ring, with a massive diamond and accents of citrine.

“Holy shit…” you sighed, pulling the phone closer to get a better look.

“Had it custom made, I’m gonna pick it up tomorrow,” he explained, putting the phone away. “I don’t even know how I’m gonna ask her yet… I just know I need to snag this one before she slips through my fingers.”

“You’re really like a whole new man,” you realized aloud.

“I’m telling you, this girl… she really changed everything for me,” he sighed wistfully, and you nodded because you knew what that was like.

“I knew you just needed a good woman to straighten you out, Wilson,” you joked, patting him on the shoulder, “my only mistake was ever thinking it was me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was you, too,” he smiled softly. “I really loved you, even when I was stepping out on you… and I think I needed to love you, and to lose you, to be here now.   So, thank you.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” you laughed a little, taking a slow sip of your drink.

“And if she says yes, I’m gonna need all the marriage advice you have to offer,” he bargained.

“I mean, we’ve only been married for a month,” you chuckled, “I don’t think we’re far enough into it to really provide significant guidance.”

“And you’ve already gone through so much together.  Is he doing alright?  You know, his nightmares and stuff…”

You glanced over and where Bucky and Natasha were chatting, admiring how at ease he looked; he usually had a harder time with new people.  “Yeah, it’s been a lot better, he’s on new meds… how did you know about that?”

“He talks to me sometimes,” Sam admitted.  “And as someone who has played a PTSD-striken veteran in not one, but two major motion pictures, I’m sort of an expert,” he winked, but then got serious again.  “I would’ve asked him how he was doing myself but he wouldn’t let me ask him personal stuff on my birthday.”

“I bet he’d let you ask him for his opinion on the ring you just showed me.”

“Um, why would I want his opinion when he bought you that?” he grimaced, pointing at the ring on your finger.  “I mean, sapphires?  Really?”

“Cut it out,” you laughed, shoving him on the shoulder.

“Okay, fine,” he relented. 

“Are you coming to my premiere tomorrow, by the way?” you asked.  “I have it on good authority you were invited, since I demanded it.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he nodded, “Nat really wants to go, too.  She’s a big fan of your work.”

“Well, tell her she was great in that one about the missing girl,” you replied.  

“I’ll be sure to tell her exactly that.”

“We should head home, you know how early premiere prep starts,” you sighed with an exhausted roll of your eyes, finishing the last of your drink before grabbing Sam on the shoulder.  “Good luck with however you decide to pop the question with Nat.  Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded and let you go, and once you got Bucky’s attention and said goodbye to Nat, the two of you made your way out back to the car.

“I’m glad you and Sam get along,” you reminded him as you squeezed his hand.

“What gives you that impression?” he scoffed.

You shook your head and smiled, letting him walk you to the car in silence.

Less than 24 hours later, you held his hand in just the same way as you sat beside each other in the screening auditorium, watching your latest film fade to black and hearing the crowd at the premiere— mostly cast, crew, and critics— erupt into applause.

"I have a little surprise for you," you whispered in his ear as the credits began to flash.

"I am not gonna let you blow me in this crowded theater," he instantly scolded.

"No, not that," you giggled, although you secretly wondered how much less crowded the theater would have to be for him to let you try it.  "Just wait until my name comes up."

Written and Directed by Hope Van Dyne

A Paramount Pictures Film

In Association with Europa

And then there it was, in big white letters, just as much of a trip to see as the first time you saw your name on the big screen.  But something very important had changed.

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes

Everyone at the screening was clapping and cheering, but you were so focused on him that his whisper was the only thing you heard.  "Sweetheart," he gasped, and you smiled wide.  "You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to."

"It's just a stage name, if you want to keep it the same—"

"Buck, really.  I want your name there with mine."

"But your credits…" he protested, though the break in his voice made it clear he was tearing up.  "You're an actress and you've established your career already and it's so important to you—"

"Hey," you soothed, reaching up to brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you.  "Your wife is the most important thing I've ever been."

[imatechbummerliketomholland]

You are my world. you three are my world now - h.h

hello there! I'm back ! Sorry if it tooks so long, i have a lot of work during these holiday. I hope you like this little request. I didn't have time to be proofread (but a big thank you to@petersasteria who is always there to support me!). Remember that my native language is French, so don't be so mean if i made mistakes!

Feel free to like, share, comment and tell me what you think. Send me a message if you want to be added to the taglist for my next work!

Word count: 2300 Warning: angst, mention of pregnancy, small mention of blood, mention of placental abruption Pairing : harry holland Request: yes!

ღღღ

You didn't expect to be pregnant with twins at your age. The announcement of your pregnancy had also surprised more than one. Despite her support, Nikki Holland had still given the discourse on the importance of safe sex to her son. But Harry had given a more than mature speech in defense of both of you. He was able to prove to his family and to yours that you were ready and that the decision to continue the pregnancy was not rash.

You were now at the half of your eighth month and nothing could stand in the way of your happiness.

Nothing except maybe this.

Nikki had offered to have lunch with her this afternoon. Despite his work as a photographer, no longer having the company of his four children - since three of them left the family cocoon to live their own life as grown-up adults- weighed heavily on her. You accepted with pleasure. Harry, who was editing his third short film, had left you this morning to go to the edit suite, not without checking that you were okay. So, you joined Nikki at the restaurant. You shine in your long floral maternity dress. In the middle of the meal, you felt a violent contraction.

At almost eight months pregnant, it was no surprise that you could feel twins’ movements. You winced a little at the pain and your mother-in-law put a reassuring hand on your arm.

"Are you alright, darling?" she asking, a little bit worried.

"Yeah, yeah. They've just been in great shape for a few days now."

You apologized and went to the bathroom, struggling to cope with the pain of your contractions. When you noticed that your underwear was soaked with blood, your heart rate increased. You suddenly realized that a series of symptoms corresponded to what you had dreaded early in your pregnancy: the nausea that had occurred last night, the violent contractions since this morning and now the blood. Rather alerting signals that suggested a placental abruption. The obstetrician told you that this was a possible risk since you were having a twin pregnancy. You started to cry and panic for several minutes that Nikki ended up knocking on the bathroom door.

"Darling, is everything good in there?" she asked you with her sweet and worried voice.

"Could you come in please" you sobbed.

"Sure, darling. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

She stepped carefully into the disabled cabin that you had used for space reasons. Nikki immediately noticed your state of stress. And you just told her everything in strangled sobs. She put a hand behind your back and gave you a very serious look.

"We have to go to the ER. We're going right away."

"I want Harry"

"Don't worry, I'll call him on the way"

And you haven't wasted a minute. Nikki simply left her phone number and table number at the counter before you got into your car. Dom will retrieve Nikki one's later. Holland family been known from the restaurant, the staff were comprehensive about your leaving without paid the bill. When you arrived at the hospital, the nurses greeted you directly and wasted no time either. You were taken to the operating room without being able to get your boyfriend's support.

☙♥❧

Harry arrived within fifteen minutes of receiving the call from his mother. No doubt he would receive a speeding penalty ticket later. He looked like a madman, mortified by worry. He was a bundle of nerves and sarcasm. Her mother was standing by the reception desk, waiting for her. She looked anxious. Tom was there too, trying to contact their father on his phone. When Dom finally picked up, the oldest Holland brother announced the urgency. Harry was shaking with worry.

"What happened mom?"

"I don't really know, baby. We were at the restaurant and the babies kicked. She went to the bathroom and when she didn't come back, I went after her. That's where she asked me to come into the bathroom and you know the rest. I called you straight after that. " Nikki explained, trying to get the stress out of her.

"Oh my god… where is she now?"

"The medical staff took her for surgery. I had to wait here. I couldn't go with her, baby. I’m so sorry."

"Ok ... Ok, I guess I have to wait here. Hope she's okay. God, please make her be alright."

They all made their way to the operating theater hallway for the public to wait for more information. Tom was still on the phone with his father, explaining that it would be better if he stayed at home with Paddy so as not to overcrowd the waiting room. He promised his father that they would all give news as soon as possible. A nurse in a surgical gown entered ten minutes later.

“Who's the father of miss y/l/n's babies?”

“I am. Harry Holland, I’m the father!” he almost screamed and cried at the same time.

“Come with me”

Nikki stood up cautiously and walked over to the nurse. Harry was ready to follow the nurse without giving any further information to his family.

"Excuse me. Can you give us more information on her condition?" Nikki asked

"Sure. We had an emergency caesarean. The babies are fine but there seem to be some complications with the mother. The surgeon is taking care of her."

"Is she going to be okay?" Harry asked hastily.

"She's losing a lot of blood but we're doing our best. Now please follow me." She said to curly one.

☙♥❧

Harry followed her to the nursery. His heart was pounding in mixed emotions. He was so impatient to meet his babies but at the same time he was worried about you. What if you don't survive from the complications? What was to become of him? Would he be able to live without you? Would he be a good father?

His last question vanished when he saw his two little babies in the incubator. Your twins had arrived about fifteen, almost a month earlier than expected, it was normal that they were in an incubator. Harry was going to have to make sure they put on weight. After filling out a few papers, one of the nurses offered to do some skin-to-skin contact with the twins so that they could get to know the three of them. Harry could not but be impatient with this and once prepared he settled into a seat. He was overcome with emotion, understanding how his parents had felt when Sam and him were born. He completely forgets the time, spending several minutes with his sons, one after the other. Harry knew he would place all his love in the two little beings he had taken turns holding in his arms. He was ready to lift mountains, cross the tides. Part of his mind was on you and he truly hoped he could go through life's trials with you. May your family experience all the times they deserve.

The nurse who had brought him to the nursery go up to him with a half-smile. She was sorry to disturb him during this privileged father-son moment.

"Your ... hm ... miss (y/l/n) is in the recovery room. You can go see her now"

Harry's heart burst with relief. He let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding back. The very new father nodded before placing his son in the nurse's arms so that she could put him back in the incubator. He decided to go find his family who had been waiting too long now. When he entered the waiting room, his mother and brother were still seated. Tom had his elbows on his knees, the phone in his hand. He seemed to be talking to someone. When the actor noticed his brother's presence, he spoke to him.

"Hey mate, Sam's here. Wanna talk to him? What's up? Does y/n's alright? And the twins?"

"Too much question. Give me Sam first!"

But the result was exactly the same. Sam asked the same questions as Tom and Harry winced as he tried to answer consensually.

"Hello to you too, brother. The twins are fine. I swear to God Sam, they look like a mini version of us. Two sons by the way ... y/n is fine, she's in the recovery room, I'm going see her right after that. I wanted to talk to mom and Tom first. "

"Glad to know I'm the last to know." Sam informed sarcastically.

"Hey, I was going to call you but I had to, you know ... go meet my sons. Father's job, it seems."

Sam chuckled behind his phone screen as Harry smirked in a mischievous and petty manner. He ended the call with his twin and turned to his mother and Tom. Nikki made her understand that she had heard, she seemed relieved that you were okay.

"Hey, before I go see y/n ... you want to see your grandsons ... and you, your nephew and godson, asshole."

"Harry, language" said Nikki.

"Of course I want to see my godson, stupid"

"Tom!"

The two brothers smile at each other. Just because one became a father and the other was a movie star, didn't mean they were going to change their ways. It was also their way, both of them, to decompress events. Nikki sighed in annoyance but kept quiet, too happy to meet, even only through a window, her first grandchildren. After a brief walk in front of the nursery, Harry announced that he was going to find you, leaving his family to admire your twins. They seemed so impatient to meet them in person but knew they were going to have to wait while you woke up.

☙♥❧

Harry entered the recovery room and walked over to your bed. You seemed to have already woken up from your artificial sleep. He grabbed your hand to give you the support you needed. A feeling of emptiness was felt in you, your gaze landed on your stomach, flatter than you had seen in recent months. Your eyes widened in panic but the reassuring pressure of Harry's hand drew your attention to him.

"They are fine, my love. They are fine. They are in an incubator in the nursery."

You burst into tears. The emotions being so strong.

"I'm so sorry Harry. I'm sorry ..."

“Hey… hey… you don't have to. You're okay… the twins are okay. And I still love you, I love you more than ever."

"Have you seen them?"

"Yes ... ugly like their father" he joked

You chuckled with a few more tears in your voice. You knew he didn't mean it, but humor was Harry's best way to decompress, and it worked on you too.

"My family is here. You scared the hell out of them. I think Sam was about to order a flight to kick your ass."

You chuckled again. It was so impressive to see the love that reigned in this family. You could never have asked for a better way to build your own family. Harry leaned over to kiss you.

"I love you, y/n. You are my world. you three are my world now"

"I love you more, Harry."

You stayed a few more days before you could get out of the hospital. You had decided to introduce the twins after their own discharge from the hospital. That's why, after almost a month of going back and forth to the nursery, you could finally bring your twins home. So you organized a little visit to Harry's parents.

☙♥❧

The sun was shining on London and you squeezed the doorknob of one of the maxi-cozy, Harry carrying your second son as you opened the door to the Holland family home. You were amazed at the ease with which Harry assumed his role as father. He was doing so well that you fell in love with him again.

"Is there anyone here?" He asked

"We're all in the garden, buddy!" Tom said

"You are obviously in the kitchen, dummy"

"For god's sake, Harry. Come into this fucking garden and let us see the twins!"

You let out a frank laugh as you mentally noted that you were going to have to have a conversation with Harry and his brothers about the vocabulary they were using.

You are therefore entering the garden. You noticed right away that Sam had come all the way from Scotland. Harry must have organized this with him too. You smiled, Nikki rushed over to help you with the change bags and you thanked him.

"So where is my godson?" Tom asked in the same way he did at the FFH premiere when he was looking for Jake Gyllenhal.

"Where's mine?" Sam asked too.

You approached Sam, putting the maxycosy on the table to unbuckle the seat belt and take your son in your arms. Harry was doing the same with your second baby.

"I'm happy to introduce you y/s/n"

"And there's y/s/n(2)." Harry added, so proud.

Everyone raved about the twins as you wipe away a tear, happy and proud. You were so moved by the love that reigned. Harry came to kiss you on the forehead, you closed your eyes, appeased by his gesture. The world could only turn better in his company.

"It's family portrait time!" Nikki said, her camera in her hands. "Tom, please get closer to your brother. Sam, stand next to y / n"

You all followed Nikki's instructions, who couldn't be more than happy to capture this important moment, bringing her work and family life together. You all smiled as you and Harry were in the center of the photo, carrying your twins in your arms. And at that moment, you were sure that your life could not be more beautiful than at this moment.

[yellowocaballero]

6, 7, 18 :V

What is your darkest fear about writing?

Oh god uh uh uh

I worry my stuff is bad, like literally everybody else. I get stressed out when I feel like I just can't make the story work, when it just has way too many flaws, or when I feel like I just can't reach the level that I want to reach. It frustrates me and I definitely vent to friends that I'll never be good enough for myself and my own standards.

But that's just frustration. That's my shit self-esteem and my bad habit of wanting things to be perfect without putting the effort in. I WISH I was a perfectionist. That's a huge part of my psyche that I have to manage in every aspect of my life.

That's not fear. Fear is anticipation of negative consequences. Fear is 'I'm terrified this'll happen, because then X Y and Z will happen'. These consequences can be physical - I'll flunk, I'll get rejected, I'll crash the car - or they can be emotional - she'll hate me, he'll be disappointed in me, they'll dump me, I'll hate myself. There's, like, stakes.

There's no stakes in my writing? If I post a fic and it gets no hits, then I've lost exactly nothing in this process. If I write a fic and it's terrible, then I'll get really frustrated and go cool off and then go back to writing something better. Worst case scenario with my writing is...?!...my friends will think it's bad..?!...I don't know. That I'll never be good enough...? I will never, ever be good enough for myself, this is a me problem that has little to do with my writing. This is why I write to destress. Everything's made up and the points don't matter?

(This is why I'll never be a professional writer, for what it's worth - hugely rooting for your success in that aspect).

What is your deepest joy about writing?

I sometimes get extremely nice comments about how much a story meant to them. That is always so wonderful, they are very meaningful to me. I also sometimes get comments that I have made somebody realize that they are ace/trans/has made them quit their job, which are the ABSOLUTE BEST. I love talking about my writing and discussing it with other people, and I achieve this through writing stuff that is hopefully good enough that I can make other people care about it. It's hugely rewarding and feels wonderful & it makes me happy to know that I brighten days. The best part of fanfiction is the friends I make through fanfiction.

But my actual joy is - I don't know, just in the writing. When I'm wading through a scene and I just really love the scene, and I feel like a freaking genius, and I can't type fast enough to keep up with my brain. When the image is incredibly vivid in my mind and I'm feeling everything in the scene, and it's coming out even more beautiful than in my head. When I'm, like, ALMOST THERE. Writing a sentence and going 'that's the EXACT right sentence' or writing a line of dialogue that is so clever or writing a joke that is just so funny. When everything is just right and I'm just having a complete blast, and then I go brag to my friends about how smart I am. I just like doing it.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

This post is already pretty long, so I'll attempt to be laconic.

I like Wolverine , Khonshu said wistfully. 

“Damn, then go staple yourself to his adamantium skeleton. Their crusade’s a waste of time. This ain’t a team-up issue, it’s a multiversal mistake.” Jake snorted softly, flexing his hands inside his hoodie pockets. “Mark my words, Boss. Day after tomorrow my knife’s going to find that kid’s heart. He’s going to die because our little justice system’s fucked up, because he made the shit choices a shit situation gave him, and because the keepers of the peace like us care more about justice than what’s right. And the same thing’s gonna happen next month, and the next month, and the next month. ‘Cuz there’s nothing cruel or unusual about state-sanctioned serial killing. How’s that for your piping hot pie of justice?”

The entire process of trying to make Jake was complicated enough, and he changed a tremendous amount through conceptualizing him. I hadn't intended to have him in the scene - I actually never intended to do a Jake POV until the final scene - and him becoming a major character actually fucked some stuff up. But I just liked my brand new OC so much he started eating up word count (The joy of Jake Dialogue is real). He was going to be a bit more unhinged until I wrote the passage, really loved it, and swerved hard in this direction.

This passage is to blame for a lot of that, because it cemented Jake as: an astute outside observer of the situation, a mouthpiece for the justice-themed moral, keenly intelligent, a kinda spicy fourth wall breaker, pretty hilarious, uncontrollable, pettily cruel, and bugfuck insane.

Anyway I actually just bring up this passage because I read The New Jim Crow in prep for this story and somehow Jake became the character in universe who's read The New Jim Crow. I also re-read all of She-Hulk 1989, and although Shulk was always gonna be 4th-walley it somehow became INCREDIBLY funny to have Jake be the only other 4th wall breaker just because he is bugfuck. I also watched many telenovela recaps and none of them made it in except for the general vibe of extreme drama.

Thanks for the ask!

[pettyvxbes]

COLSON BAKER x READER - OCEAN EYES IV

BRIAN, JIMI, JANIS, KURT, AND. . .COLSON?

"Can we get two 16oz house drips, one black with two sugars and the other with two sugars and a splash of cream?" He ordered, remembering exactly how you took your coffee, even after all the time you'd been separated. It made you smile, knowing that you still occupied some space in his mind.

"So this is your coffee shop?" You asked, leaning against the side of the counter as you waited for your drinks.

"Yeah, I opened it last year. It turned out pretty cool." He smiled as he looked around the room. You could tell he was proud of it.

"It's badass" You agreed with him.

"If you're hungry, we serve brunch." Colson handed you a menu to peruse. "This is actually why I was at the farmers market. All of our fruits and vegetables are local." You looked over the list of food, noticing all of the fresh ingredients.

"That's so cool. Everything sounds delicious." You said, flipping the menu over to continue exploring. On the opposite side, you found a cocktail menu. Some of the drink names made you chuckle. There was 'the gunner,' 'sex, dope, and cheap thrills,' 'screw me' with its counterpart, 'screw you,' and the 'you know I'm no good.' Without even seeing the ingredients, you immediately thought that the last one sounded like a drink you'd choose.

Colson exchanged the menu in your hands with a coffee cup filled with hot coffee. You looked at him and gave him a weak thank you smile which he inadvertently returned, and just like that, you were taken back to the first morning you had ever spent together.

You woke up randomly as the sun was shining through the tiny window of your dorm room. You were still wearing the same clothes from the night before. It confused you because you hadn't even remembered falling asleep. The last thing you could recollect was laying with Colson in your XL twin bed, which he noted multiple times was fantastic because his tall, lanky ass fit perfectly.

"Good morning," Colson whispered. It took you a moment to fully wake up, but you noticed how your bodies were intertwined when you did. Your head was on his chest, and his arm was holding you close to him. It was cozy.

"Good morning." You repeated, squeezing him and nuzzling your face into his neck. "How long have you been awake?" You asked sleepily, afraid that you were the only one who had dozed off.

You and Colson had agreed to stay up as long as you could talking to each other. After all, it was the first time you had seen each other since Atlanta, and even though you had basically talked every day for the last 3 months, you still had a lot to talk about.

"Not long, maybe like fifteen.. . twenty minutes" He shrugged. "I didn't want to wake you. I just wanted to lay here and hold you a little longer, watch you sleep, smell your hair." He squeezed you, placing a small kiss on the top of your head. "I wanted to memorize all of it because this weekend will be over before we know it, and then It'll be back to facetime calls and falling asleep on the phone."

"Blahhh, don't remind me." You pouted, sitting up to face him. You enjoyed every single second you got to spend with that blue-eyed boy in your bed, and you never wanted it to end. He had quickly become your best friend, your person.

"Sorry. Y'know, you're fucking cute when you're sleepy" Colson smiled at you, no makeup and hair a mess. To him, you were perfection. "Oh, I ordered coffee." He said excitedly as he sat up, reaching for the cups on the table next to your bed. "Remind me to thank your roommate later. She was not very happy when she was woken up by the Doordash driver." He chuckled.

"She'll get over it" You took the warm cup from him, sipping slowly. Careful not to burn your mouth. You immediately spit the coffee back into the cup, scrunching your nose up at the taste. The coffee was sweeter than a glazed chocolate donut filled with thousands of tiny sprinkles. You thoroughly enjoyed coffee, and you liked to be able to taste the flavor in every sip.

"Shit, did I get it wrong?" He asked worriedly. It was one of the topics you had discussed last night, and he had already forgotten.

"Yeah, but we've never had coffee together, so I'll give you a free pass." You joked. "Two sugars and a splash of cream," you reminded him with a small smile.

"I swear I will never forget again." He promised, passing you his coffee to share.

"Let's sit back here" Colson's voice pulled you from your memory. As you followed him to the back of the coffee shop, you noticed photos of different famous musicians on each table.

"What's with the pictures?" You asked, gesturing towards a table with Kurt Cobains' face on it.

"They're all a part of the 27 club." He could tell by the expression on your face that you had no idea what that meant. "a bunch of artists and entertainers that died at the age of 27." Colson explained.

"Oh." you gasped, finally understanding the name of his coffee shop.

Colson led you to a table in the back corner. It was secluded enough to offer a little privacy from the rest of the customers. You took a seat, instantly noticing the photo that was on your table. It was him. Your narrowed eyes and knitted brows caught his attention, and he followed your gaze to determine the look of confusion on your face.

"You're 31." You stated the obvious.

"Yes, but most days I feel like my life ended when I was 27." He let out a small chuckle.

You took a sip of your coffee, waiting for Colson to elaborate further. Quickly getting distracted by the liquid in your cup. When the coffee first hit your tongue, you could taste a combination of floral and fruity notes, but as you swallowed, you noticed a nutty caramel tone. It was unique and unlike any other coffee, you had ever tried.

"Mmm," You hummed quietly, approving of the noteworthy java in your hand. "You remembered how I like my coffee." You said without thinking.

You regretted it almost instantly. You didn't want to discuss your past relationship or talk to Colson like old friends. You just wanted the explanation you deserved so you could be on your way. It wasn't necessary to spend any more time with him than need be. You didn't want to conjure up old feelings any more than you already had by being in this stupid city.

"I said I would never forget, didn't I?" He looked at you like you made the whole world spin, and for a moment, it was like time stood still.

"God. I'm so stupid." His words came out as a whisper as he looked away from you. Shame and guilt wallpapered his face. "I made the biggest mistake of my life by losing you, and it's something I'm never going to forgive myself for."

"Why'd you leave Colson?" You were blunt, and your words were shaky.

"Because y/n, you deserved better." He paused, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "I was laying there with you in my arms that morning thinking to myself, 'how can I possibly love this amazing woman the way she deserves to be loved when I don't even like who I am."

The sadness in his voice was evident, and you could clearly see the pain in his glossy blue eyes. He hurt himself just as much as he had hurt you.

"I was the biggest fuck up on the planet. You sacrificed your happiness to be with me, to support my dreams, and be my biggest fan. . .I was selfish, and I took you for granted. I broke your heart, and somehow you still managed to see the best in me. It wasn't fair to you. -- Y/n, I had to go because I knew that staying would have been even more painful for you. I was a sinking ship that was burning, and I couldn't bear to be the reason you went down in flames too." A silent tear slid down his cheek.

You sat there speechless as you listened to the explanation you had waited years to hear. You hadn't even realized it, but at some point, you had started tearing up too. Colson reached over, wiping the tears from your face.

"I hate myself for fucking things up with you." He said, staring at you.

You didn't know what it was about him, but when you looked into those blue eyes, you saw a reflection of your soul staring back at you. He was your person, always had been, and always would be. You and Colson had a once-in-a-lifetime connection. The kind of connection that made you feel alive by just being near him, even the silence between you, was comfortable because you felt complete in each other's presence.

"You are worth so much more than second thoughts and maybes'. I am so sorry y/n" You could feel the emotion in Colson's words. His apology was like rain on a dehydrated garden. Grossly overdue, but miraculously just in time.

You sat in silence for a few moments before speaking. "Earlier, when you said you lost your life at 27, what did you mean?" You questioned.

"Y'know, everyone thought I was overreacting after our breakup. . ." He started. You had no idea where he was going with his response, but you let him continue." what they didn't get was how much of my life you really were. . .You were more than just another relationship down the drain. You were my past, my present, and my future. Y/n, you were my life."

At that moment, you understood why his photo sat on a table in that coffee shop. He was a part of the 27 club, not because he physically perished at 27, but because that was when he lost the only thing that ever made him feel alive, you.

TAG LIST @canyoubuymetoast @ticketstomydaydreams @mvrylee

[mageofseven]

Part 3 with Beel and Belphie is ready!

Part 1 | Part 2

~

Beelzebub:

The big guy noticed the changes with his girlfriend before she even mentioned them; the sixth brother is pretty observant with those he cares about after all.

Whenever he discussed how worried he was about her, about her lethargy and dizzy spells, the woman would just smile and say she was fine, that it was just her body being off and human bodies are just weird like this at times.

Beel didn't know much about the human body so he chose to believe his Muffin on this, even if he was still worried.

As the months went on, MC started to gain weight. The demon noticed this, but it really didn't faze him at first; he didn't mind it if his girlfriend was a bit rounder in her torso.

What he did mind however was how self-conscious his girlfriend got about it. She had been eating a lot more recently and she couldn't really fight it, but she also hated every pound gained from it all.

Beel always told her how beautiful she was and how her weight never changed that to him.

However, she'd glance down at how her belly poked out now and looked to her boyfriend, who was so incredibly strong and was practically the living definition of fitness and was so good looking... and she couldn't help but fall even deeper into the slow burning feeling of loathing with of her own body.

One day, MC asked if she could go to the gym with him. The Avatar of Gluttony was immediately tense because she still wasn't feeling well, but he knew it would probably make her feel a bit better if she was exercising and actively working on what was bothering her

So he agreed, but the man couldn't bring himself to do his usual workout routine with her there. The big guy was just too worried about his Muffin.

At one point, the man just noticed that something seemed off about his Human.

He set down the weights and walked over to the treadmill she was on-- and got there just in time to catch her as she fainted.

Luckily, the woman woke up fairly quickly, but her boyfriend had enough; no more exercise for her, not until she got her dizziness under control.

For the next few days, the MC was extra depressed and just found herself in bed more, usually snuggled up with either Beel or Belphie.

It was one such day when the cramping started.

She had gotten to lay with Beel for awhile, but eventually he had to leave for the game with his teammates.

Usually, MC would go and watch him play, but since her cramps were so bad, she didn't really have this option.

She was cuddled up in bed with Belphie when the redhead gave her a kiss goodbye and told her and his twin that he'd come straight home, receiving a nod from his Muffin and a thumbs up from his twin.

The pain just got worse while he was gone though and things evolved to MC gripping onto the Avatar of Sloth and heavily sobbing into his chest.

The seventh brother couldn't move and get help; everytime he tried, the human would beg between sobs for him not to leave her. He couldn't call for help either because he realized that he left his phone up in the planetarium.

Belphie was stuck with the sobbing human for over three hours until Beel came home.

Eventually, MC could feel something lowering within her and the need to push was unbearable.

"B-Belphie, help me up!"

The man did as he was told and helped her off the bed.

Beely came into the room just in time to see his girlfriend squatting and pushing out the head while his twin held onto her to help keep her balanced.

Eyes wide, the demon ran to girlfriend. His brain wasn't fully registering what the heck was happening, but his immediate reaction was still to rush to her side and help her.

MC immediately grabbed onto her boyfriend.

"B-Beely--uhhh... i-it's coming out."

Still deeply confused and concerned, the man's gaze dropped down between her legs, now letting himself focus on the head between them.

MC... his Muffin was having his baby!

Okay action then thoughts. Right now, the man just had to be there for her.

"Belphie, go tell Lucifer. We need a doctor."

The man was really trying to keep calm for his Muffin.

Without really pausing to answer, his twin rushed out the door.

"It's okay, Muffin, I'm here."

The redhead held onto his girlfriend and encouraged her as she pushed.

When the baby was finally pushed out enough to be freed from it's mom, Beel already had his hands around it so it didn't fall to the floor.

The demon forgot to breathe for a minute as he stared down at his daughter. His daughter.

Smiling, Beel lifted his gaze back to his girlfriend, but found that the woman was still crying in pain.

"Muffin?"

"I-It still--ughhhh, I think there's another."

The man's eyes widen.

Beel noticed his girlfriend's legs shaking and knew she wouldn't be able to keep herself up.

He adjusted his hold on his little girl before guiding MC onto the bed to lay down. He stayed between her legs and continued to give her encouraging words.

Since their sister already stretched the way open for them, the second baby was crowning in very little time.

A few minutes later, MC birthed the second baby, another girl. Both girls had his wings, horns, even his hair and eye color.

The man held both girls in his arms, already overwhelmed with his love for them, before looking up at MC, who was regaining her breath.

Beel sat down next to her and kissed her cheek.

"Are you alright?"

His girlfriend nodded, gaze falling to their girls.

"Beely... we're parents now?"

Beel smiled and nodded.

"I..." The woman sighed. "How did this even happen?"

"I dunno... are you okay with this, Muffin?"

"...Are you?"

His smile grew.

"Yeah."

She gave her boyfriend a small smile.

"Then... I am too."

Beel leaned down and kissed her.

"Good. I love you... I love our girls." The demon smiled down at the twins in his arms before meeting MC's eyes again. "This is... a dream. All at once, I got everything I wanted in life. I'll make sure to give you and the girls everything I can."

The doctor finally came a few minutes later, obviously late. Still, he checked MC and the girls to make sure they were okay and before he even left, the rest of House of Lamentation knew that the two were now parents.

Belphegor:

It took Belphie a bit longer than his twin to realize something was wrong with MC.

Sleepy boy... well, has a sleepy mind.

Not to say that it took him long though; while Beel noticed the human feeling off in his scenario on the first day, it took his twin about three days.

Honestly, he wasn't really worried about how tired they got. Hell, that just meant more naps they could take together so the Avatar of Sloth was winning in that regard.

He didn't really care about the weight gain either. Yeah, he teased her about it a bit, but it was always followed by wrapping his arms around her waist and if his words actually hurt her, which sometimes they did, he'd sleepily kiss their neck, their cheek, their lips

"It was a joke, Butthead." He'd tell them. "If anything, you're even cuter with a belly."

And the boy thrived off the blush that came after.

What the boy didn't enjoy, however, was her dizzy spells. The woman would go pale and suddenly have to grab onto him. Sometimes, MC would even full on faint and he'd have to quickly catch her before she hit the ground.

The first time that happened, the two were on their way to lunch at RAD and suddenly his girlfriend stopped walking. He turned around to ask why she stopped just for the woman to fall forward and for him to have to scramble to catch her.

Luckily, the woman was only out for a minute and was confused when she woke up in her boyfriend's arms, laying on the hallway floor at RAD.

Belphie took her straight home after that, not even giving the human the option to stick around and finish the school day.

The demon didn't understand what was wrong with his Human and whenever he'd ask MC, the woman didn't seem too concerned. Lightly, yes, but she said it'd probably correct itself and human bodies are just weird for the sake of being weird sometimes.

The seventh brother wasn't sure that he believed it, but he also didn't have any other answer so he just chose to leave it at that.

Basically, it was months of Sleepy Boy pretending he didn't care, but secretly hovering over his girlfriend.

After nine months of this hovering, it finally ended.

The two were upstairs in the attic, napping.

MC had been having cramps all day and Belphie suggested just sleeping through them, saying that eventually they will just go away.

Technically, he was right, just not in a way he expected.

He woke up to MC heavily sobbing his name. The man jolted awake and found his girlfriend gripping his shirt and burying her face in his chest.

"What's wrong--"

That's when he noticed the bed was... wet? Why was it wet?

"B-Belphie, somethings--gaaahh." The woman was panting through the pain.

The demon threw the blanket off of her and saw that the bed was soaked, as was her leggings, but there was also a slight bulge.

He pulled them down and saw that she was crowning.

His eyes went wide. She's pregnant? How the hell is she pregnant?

He looked back up at MC, who was still crying from the contractions, and knew he had to handle this before anything else.

He got up from the bed and positioned himself between her legs.

"You gotta push." He told her. "It's not gonna end if you don't push, Butthead."

His voice was firm, but tinged with some sympathy.

The woman was in too much pain to argue.

It took twenty minutes, but the MC managed to push the baby out half way, only to be pulled out completely by her boyfriend.

The demon stared down at the baby, a boy with his tail, eyes, and hair, and didn't know how to feel. He had gotten so focused on helping MC that his emotions felt lightyears away.

The human cried out and his head snapped up to look see her still writhing in pain.

Was there another one? The man quickly found out that there was.

And so it all repeated.

Once the second one was born, a little girl with his horns and eyes, but MC's hair, Belphie stared down at the twins on the bed, crying at the top of their lungs.

The man was already so tired of hearing cries.

"B-Belphie..."

He looked up at MC, who had a panicked expression on her face.

Leaving the twins laying between her legs, the Avatar of Sloth went back to his side of the bed and pulled her into his arms.

Neither said a word for a while. The only sound in the room were their twins' cries.

"I didn't know..." MC mumbled.

Belphie pulled back to meet her eyes, just staring into them for a full minute.

"Promise me. Promise that it's true and you didn't know."

"I promise. I swear on everything I have with you that I had no idea."

He sighed.

"Okay." He leaned in and kissed her.

After a moment or two, he pulled away and looked down at the crying babies on the bed.

"So... what do you wanna do with them?"

"I..." The woman stared down at her babies. "C-Can you bring them to me?"

Her boyfriend nodded and scooped up the babies one at a time to bring into her arms.

The woman brought them to her chest, causing them to finally stop crying in favor of feeding from her.

Belphie watched this quietly, not really sure what else to do.

After about a minute or two, MC spoke up.

"Belphie... would you be mad at me... if I said I wanted to keep them?"

The woman knew her boyfriend wasn't a fan of kids, a topic they always clashed with a bit. MC didn't think she could survive losing her twins in anyway now that they're here, but she worried about what Belphie would think of this.

The man pursed his lips. He honestly never wanted kids before, never liked them. Still though... he felt odd. Different.

Maybe it was seeing MC hold his children so sweetly in this moment, but he wasn't as against this as he always imagined himself to be.

Was he at the beginning of developing paternal feelings or was he simply not strong enough to take away something that his girlfriend obviously wanted so much? The demon wasn't sure.

"No. I'm not mad." He shook his head. "I... damn, I don't understand how this is happening but... if you want this then I'm here for the long haul. I'll take care of them; I'll take care of you. We'll do this together."

~

Part 1 | Part 2