#i still get upset by the exact same things they do today

[evergardenwall]

me re-reading my old journals from 2020-2021 and feeling like i haven't made any progress and am stuck in the same place vs. me reminding myself i passed last year and now am in L2 which i couldn't have imagined back in 2021... why is celebrating small achievements so hard

[catboydan]

.

[phantomrose96]

Before the Birds Sing

Christophe wakes on the morning of April 7th for the 273rd time.

It is 7:03, as it almost always is, and it is the snooze-delayed alarm that wakes him, as it almost always does. Christophe knows the pattern of bird song before they chirp, and he knows the exact cadence of cars that hum by on the street before they even crawl around the corner. Christophe listens to it, and he dawdles on his phone.

There is no practical reason to check his phone. He knows of course that it is 7:03 and he knows it’s 67 degrees outside—sunny—35% humidity—and he knows the contents of the 2 texts he received overnight. But Christophe makes motions with no practical reason. He does it to not upset anyone who, if paying close attention, could take issue with him knowing things before he’s learned them.

Christophe stows his phone into his pajama pocket at 7:06 and goes downstairs, which is the optimal time to go downstairs. Any earlier and Madeline’s pot of coffee would still be brewing, and she’d offer him first-cup with a touch of resentment over him getting first cup of the pot she’d been brewing. But if he refuses it would be a Thing, and Christophe hates starting a Thing.

But it is 7:06, and Madeline is starting to empty the dishwasher, steaming cup of coffee perched on the counter beside the sink. Christophe says, “Morning” and kisses her head and pours his own cup.

“Morning,” Madeline answers. Her hair is not damp anymore, but it could be in the two cases Christophe woke at 6:45. He hadn’t yet figured out what caused that. He’d never been able to recreate it on purpose.

“Oh,” Madeline always says. “My mom wants to come over for dinner tonight. Kinda late notice but is that okay?” she always asks.

“Yeah, sure,” Christophe sometimes answers. Because the sometimes when he sounds too neutral makes Madeline’s mouth tighten with worry. And the sometimes when he’s too enthusiastic makes Madeline stiff like she’s confused. “I hope she’s got more stories about Boki,” which is Madeline’s mom’s new dog, and is the optimal answer to give about her mom coming over for dinner.

“He’s gotten so big,” Madeline says with a smile.

This is optimal because Boki is an easy topic to interrupt when Beatrice from across the street slams into Christophe’s car.

“Christ!” Madeline reacts to the SLAM-RRCH, WHEEP WHEEP WHEEP WHEEP of collision and car alarm and woo woo woo of Bucky from the downstairs unit.

(“Hush, Bucky,” Peter from the downstairs unit says muffled.) Christophe is in the stairwell, heading out the door. (Peter is making hashbrowns. Christophe stopped at his door one morning, for no real reason. During the mid-100s of his loop, Christophe tried a few things “just because.”) So he thinks about the hashbrowns abandoned on the stove while Peter pulls Bucky away from the door. Christophe goes outside to Beatrice with her hands on her head.

“I didn’t see it!” Beatrice always says while Christophe opens the door. There is lipstick smeared from lip to hairline straight across her cheek. She wears an expression like she’s run over someone’s child.

Christophe goes through the motions of looking at his car, which is always identically dented in the fender, with the same red paint tucked in its scratches. “Hey hey, these things happen. Do you have your insurance information? We just need to call our insurances, and they’ll sort it out.”

This is the optimal answer. Beatrice calms down, as she takes comfort in being given actionable direction. Christophe knows a lot about Beatrice, who he’d never met before today. She has three sons: Jimmy who knows a mechanic from college, Kevin who is an insurance adjustor, but for a life insurance company, and Mikey, who is Beatrice’s favorite as most of the time, he’s the one she calls.

“Yes, yes okay. It’s in the glove box—yes, Mikey, yes that’s—the guy is here, his car. Mikey, I should get my insurance information, right? Yes,” Beatrice says into her earpiece. Christophe thinks to ask her what Mikey does for a living, but there’s no reason to detract today’s path, which so far is optimal.

Beatrice scuttles away, opening her passenger door and half leaning out of it while she finds her papers. There is no good way to prevent Beatrice from hitting his car—as it turns out, no one believes you if you preemptively try to tell them not to hit your car. And getting his own car out of the way doesn’t quite work. Getting to it in time requires cutting Madeline short on her question about her mother. And the interruption makes Madeline upset.

If he can figure out how the 6:45 wake-up loop works, maybe Christophe could move his car first, then talk to Madeline, then Beatrice wouldn’t hit his car—but it would be a lot of pressure, to get that lucky, and then try to do the whole day after that perfectly, lest he just wake up all over again, 7:03, hearing the birds before they chirp.

“This, I think. It’s this paper?” Beatrice asks.

“Yes yes, see this number? You’ll need to call that one.” Christophe just needs to be understanding, but firm. And not say anything like, “Sorry, maybe my car was too far out of the driveway!” because that will make Beatrice purse her lips and nod and say “Yeah, actually I think your car was too far out.”

Beatrice asks—maybe to Christophe, and maybe to Mikey—how long this whole thing with insurance will take. Christophe tells Beatrice insurance should handle it quickly. He’s not sure if that’s true. He’s never made it to tomorrow.

…

Christophe’s shoulders ease down a fraction once Beatrice is out of sight. The rest of the morning is easier. Madeline only needs to be told “Don’t worry, insurance is handling it.” And there’s no real wrong way to shower, and no real wrong way to get dressed. And as long as he avoids Summer Street on the way to work (someone hit a fire hydrant there) then there’s not many wrong ways to get to work.

Christophe reads all unread emails, which are memorized at this point. He accepts Frankie’s invite to grab lunch together in the cafeteria. He doesn’t start anything important while counting the minutes to 9:43. 9:43 comes, and their boss Bruce calls Christophe, and Frankie, and Arnold into his office.

Bruce wears the same olive shirt every day with the same unmatching plum tie—except for one day when he wore an orange tie. He orders everyone to sit the way he always does. And he gives the same rant, which Christophe puts on a face of surprise for, while Bruce reads out the scathing customer email received overnight over a massively delayed shipment. Bruce’s hand flies around in a rage, and there is a different watch on today.

The watch is unusual. It’s silver. Not the normal gold one, and kind of thinner. Christophe wonders why it’s different. Christophe wonders about the little things that are capable of changing, and whether that means Peter isn’t always cooking hashbrowns, or if one of these days Beatrice simply won’t hit his car.

“So tell me, Mahone, how does this happen?”

Christophe snaps from his thoughts about watches, experiencing the emotion of surprise for the first time in many days.

“If they’d gotten us the right shipping address from the start, we wouldn’t need to be jumping through all these hoops and taking the blame to fix their fuck-up.”

Bruce’s little eyes get about as big as they can on his red face, and Christophe immediately feels his ribcage drop down to his feet.

He’d given the optimal response… to offer to Frankie in the office space later, when Frankie would be sitting crouched and staring at his knees with an expression like he didn’t want to be staring at his knees. This is Frankie’s client, and every time today happens, Frankie shoulders the most blame. And it makes Frankie feel a little better when Christophe directs the blame back onto them.

Bruce’s answer, optimally, is, “It’s an oversight, you’re absolutely correct. I know our team can get this sorted out today. And we’ll craft an apology email to them immediately.”  

“Mahone did you just say the word… ‘fuck-up’, to me?”

Bruce is having an affair. Christophe doesn’t technically know this today. But he does if he tries proactively to enter Bruce’s office and read the (quite positive) response email to his apology, and only if he times this between 1:19pm and 1:21pm. Maria from accounting is under the desk for reasons that cannot be explained away. He actually needs to come in at about 1:30pm to read the email, which Bruce will nod to and give a firm clap of approval to Christophe’s shoulder.

“Sorry, I completely misspoke. I meant to say ‘our’ fuck-up, and…” Christophe trails off, tired. He is long-since tired of finding brand new optimal paths off untrodden conversations. He is quickly losing the motivation to try. This is clearly unsalvageable.

Bruce has a wife and a 9-year-old daughter.

“Sorry, we'll try that again,” Christophe says, under the gawking stares of Frankie and Arnold.

“No, you don’t get to try that again, Mahone. Not to me,” Bruce says. “You can pack your desk and get out of here.”

Christophe does not pack his desk.

It is 7:03 am. Christophe hears the note of each bird before it chirps.

…

“Oh,” Madeline always says. “My mom wants to come over for dinner tonight. Kinda late notice but is that okay?” she always asks.

“Yeah, sure,” Christophe sometimes answers again. “I hope she’s got more stories about Boki.”

“He’s gotten so big,” Madeline says with a smile. SLAM-RRCH “Christ!” WHEEP WHEEP WHEEP WHEEP woo woo woo.

“I’ve got it,” Christophe says. He opens their unit door and rounds the stairs. (“Bucky, hush.”) He thinks about hashbrowns.

Bruce’s watch is gold again today.

“So tell me, Mahone, how does this happen?”

“It’s an oversight, you’re absolutely correct. I know our team can get this sorted out today. And we’ll craft an apology email to them immediately.”

Christophe is dismissed along with Frankie and Arnold, who bow lower than him and walk like they have tails tucked up. Christophe opens the door back into their office space, and Frankie takes his seat, staring at his knees with an expression like he doesn’t want to be staring at his knees.

Christophe squeezes a hand on Frankie’s shoulder. Performatively, he looks over his own shoulder, like he’s checking to ensure Bruce hasn’t followed. Bruce never does. “If they’d gotten us the right shipping address from the start, we wouldn’t need to be jumping through all these hoops and taking the blame to fix their fuck-up.”

Frankie straightens a little, until he only a little bit resembles a shrimp. He smiles a little at Christophe.

Christophe takes his own seat, and he begins crafting the optimal client apology email.

…

Christophe pulls into the grocery store parking lot. He has a text message open from Madeline, performatively.

“Hey, sorry I don’t think I can make the fish tonight. There’s not enough for three people. Can you pick these up on your way home? We can just do a taco night.”

Sometimes Madeline says this aloud to him in the morning, if he comes down at 7:03 and if he doesn’t turn the conversation to Boki. It’s more convenient to have the list as a text message, though it functionally stopped mattering after about the 10th loop when he’d memorized the ingredients.

Christophe’s path through the grocery store is optimized. Though that is another thing that functionally does not matter. It makes no true difference if he doubles back for the avocados, or combs the spice aisle twice, or even if he stands blankly in the produce section thinking about car insurance or workplace affairs. The grocery store doesn’t really count for anything. As long as he delivers the one good joke to the cashier, it’s a success.

“A lotta avocados,” Amanda with the nose piercing says. That her name is Amanda and that she has a nose-piercing are technically the only things Christophe knows about her today. But on other todays, he’s asked her about family and about school. She has three sisters and three cats. She goes to community college. She’s a Scorpio. There is a faint scar on the middle knuckle of her right hand.

“Yeah, I’m thinking of trying out avocado therapy.”

She gives him a quirked eyebrow. He waits a beat.

“Just start smashing them until I’m better or until I have guacamole, whichever comes first.”

Amanda snorts, and she scans the last item. It’s NOT even that funny. But he said the avocado therapy thing one loop for no real reason and, somehow, it was a hit. He’s tweaked the delivery just a bit, until it felt optimal.

Christophe folds himself back into the car with the avocados and the cilantro and the lime and the onion and the chips. He turns the car on, and the radio crackles to life with Sexyback on the throwback channel. He lets it play in its entirety before moving the car out of park. It’s easier than counting the minutes needed before he’s allowed to arrive home without Madeline remarking that he got home from the grocery store “really fast.” It’s also why optimizing the avocadoes doesn’t matter. Getting home from the grocery store too fast is weird, and Christophe optimally does not do anything weird today.

Lucinda is already in the kitchen when Christophe arrives home, smelling faintly of cloves, which Christophe figured out on about the 50th loop. She is parked on the barstool overlooking the island counter, hawkishly observing the bowls of cheese and sour cream and tomatoes and shredded lettuce.

“Ah, he’s back. Finally,” Lucinda says, and there’s never any real avoiding that. Even when Christophe comes home weirdly early, he’s come home late. “You should be helping Madeline prep. Not me.”

Lucinda takes the whisky glass with the one spherical ice cube and re-parks herself at the kitchen table. Christophe unpacks the guacamole ingredients, and he does not ask about Boki yet, because Boki needs to be the second topic tonight.

Christophe makes guacamole with the exactly ripe avocados, and the exact right proportions of lime and salt and onion—it is, if he’s honest, not enough onion—but it is optimized for Lucinda, who stopped criticizing his guacamole after about the 100th loop.

He uses the bowl Madeline likes and dumps in the chips that Madeline likes too. He offers her a single chip while she’s still frying the ground beef, and she takes it with a secret little smile. He gives her a secret little smile in return, which is enough to somehow say Lucinda is a mutual nuisance, but not enough to suggest he hates her.

The taco ingredient bowls all come to the table one by one. Lucinda is slopping a pile of guacamole onto her plate with the guacamole ladle. “Ethel’s cancer is back. Poor girl. Lopped off both her breasts already. What more can you do?”

“Oh no… Mom, that’s horrible,” Madeline says. She’s stopped mid-taco-bite, brow scrunched in worry. “When did she find out?”

“Today. She doesn’t wanna do chemo again. Poor girl. Probably on her way out at this point.”

Christophe knows from other todays that Ethel is 87. She’s a gardening friend of Lucinda. She used to be a world-class chef, when being both a woman and respected in the restaurant world was unheard of. She has 14 great-grandchildren. She’s taken a boat across the Atlantic Ocean. She beat cancer at age 75. She is probably going to die to it this time.

This is not the first time Christophe has thought about the fact that, as long as today is April 7th, Ethel will never die of cancer. He’s thought about all the people who would have died in the months after April 7th who, in some way, are still alive. And if or when the loop breaks, everyone who dies on April 7th does not get to wake up tomorrow.

But these are the sort of thoughts Christophe has had in depth since the very early days of his loop. He thinks, by and large, he’s settled on the answer that, for every person who doesn’t die today, there is someone else denied being born tomorrow. And whoever he’s holding to life today is offset by someone else who should get to live tomorrow.

There are people out there who are living the worst day of their lives every single day for the last 273 days, and there are, statistically, just as many people living the best day of their life every single day.

As Christophe figures it, this loop is morally neutral. And if he wakes up on April 8th tomorrow, there is no one he’s doomed, and there is no one he’s saved.

When there is nothing more to be said about Ethel, Christophe asks about Boki. Lucinda lights up, and she fumbles for her phone, squinting at its screen. “I have pictures. Oh I have so many pictures.” Lucinda turns the phone to Christophe. He sweeps until the 19th photo, and pauses there.

“What sort of feeder is this? It looks fancy. Nothing like what Pickle had when I was growing up.” It’s just an automatic feeder, but Lucinda loves the suggestion that it’s fancy. She explains it as if Christophe is learning about electronics for the first time, and it pads time.

Christophe has made sure to clear his plate while Lucinda talks. He does not reach for seconds on anything. He needs a clear path to excuse himself from the table, because he knows what Lucinda will bring up next, like he knows the bird notes before they sing.

“I did want to tell you something else, Madeline. And I didn’t want to just ‘text’ it to you, okay? I need you to see my face so you know I’m upset too and so you don’t accuse me of mean and hateful things.”

Christophe has no reaction. He sees the confusion, and the fear taking over Madeline’s face.

“John and I are getting a divorce.”

Madeline’s face is fully white. “Mom, no…”

John is not Madeline’s biological father. Her bio dad left when she was three. Christophe shouldn’t even know his name, but he blundered in comforting her one of these loops and she spat it like a curse.

There is John instead. John who came into Madeline’s life when she was four and treated her like his daughter ever since. John who married Madeline’s mother a year later and who’d been Madeline’s dad ever since. John, who had no blood tie nor name tie to Madeline, and who is about to lose his legal tie as well.

“Mom, you said you were doing therapy,” Madeline always says, whenever Christophe gets this far.

“I am! And I’ve realized that I deserve better than what John is doing to me.”

“Better than John? You deserve better than John, Mom?”

“Madeline this is MY life. Do not do this thing you do where you try to make it ALL about how hurt you are.”

The optimal thing for Christophe to say is nothing, he thinks. The optimal thing to do right now is nothing, he thinks. He guesses, as best he can guess. He doesn’t always get this far. He hasn’t had the chance to try as many things as he’s been able to try with Beatrice, and Bruce, and Amanda. But when he has tried to speak, it doesn’t work. Maybe, optimally, Christophe shouldn’t be here, but Lucinda forces it every time.

He lets Madeline speak. He lets Lucinda respond. He fades into a wallflower, until Madeline slams her chair back and throws her napkin down and says, “I think you should go home, Mom.” He lets her storm into the living room, and he gives a performative glance to Lucinda. She’s not really his concern anymore. Lucinda always leaves right after this.

Christophe stands at the doorway of the living room, which has gone dark since the sun set. Madeline is sobbing quietly on the couch, one pillow pulled into her lap. Christophe can’t see it, but she always has it. He knows it’s there.

He enters, and he sits on the couch with her, and he holds her gently.

He does not know the optimal thing to say.

He’s tried many things. But he says things that are insensitive, or too sensitive, or too optimistic, or too pessimistic. He says things that he has no business saying. He says hollow things. He says things that are too mean to Lucinda, or too apologetic to John.

So every day, he tries to say something new.

The darkness is resting on Christophe’s eyes. He’s staring into the darkness of the livingroom. There are plates of tacos in the dining room. There is unfinished guacamole going brown in Madeline’s favorite bowl.

“That won’t be us,” Christophe says, for the first time.

The pattern of Madeline’s crying breaks. He holds his breath, filing away yet another wrong response, when Madeline reaches her arms out and wraps him tight. She’s crying into her shoulder, but the tensing of her fingers against his ribs is so tender.

“I won’t ever do that to you,” she says into his work shirt. “I love you. Thank you for being here. Thank you. I love you.”

He rubs her back, and his heart is beating faster than it’s beat in 100 loops.

“I love you too,” he says, and it’s optimal.

…

Christophe washes plates. He packs away leftovers. He listens to the shhhh of the kitchen faucet nozzle as it blasts the sink basin and gurgles away down the drain.

The cicadas chirp outside. He doesn’t know this rhythm.

Christophe showers. He gets in bed. Madeline hugs his arm. He stares at the ceiling, and it is 9:00pm for the first time in the last 274 days.

… ... ...

274 days ago, Christophe woke up on April 7th for the first time .

He checked his phone. He read the text from his mom asking for money, and he read the text from his dad telling him to ignore his mom. He checked the weather. He got out of bed and carried himself down the stairs at 7:03.

Madeline was standing at the counter, hunched over a coffee pot huffing fragrant steam up to the ceiling. She caught him from the corner of her eye, and with a sort of veiled resentment Christophe recognized, she poured the first cup and handed it to him.

“My mom wants to come over for dinner tonight. Kinda late notice but is that okay?”

“Why?” Christophe answered, the word bubbling from the knee-jerk disdain pulling down on his rib cage. Madeline poured the second cup of coffee for herself. “We had her over last week.”

“I don’t know. But she wants to come over,” Madeline answered defensively. She pulled open the dishwasher, stacking plates with a clack, clack, clack.

“We don’t have enough fish.”

“We can just make tacos.”

“We had tacos last week.”

“Fine,” Madeline said, turning back around and leaving the dishwasher half-unloaded. “I’ll tell her no.”

“Come on,” Christophe said. “Don’t say that like I’m being unreasonable.”

“No no, I’ll just tell her no.”

“She’s just… a lot. Come on.”

“You don’t think I know that? I grew up with her.”

“Don’t talk like I’m the bad guy here.”

“Oh, you learned her favorite sentence.”

Christophe’s hands tensed against the hot porcelain of his mug. He had too many words that wanted to pour of out his lips. “You think you’re the only one who grew up with a difficult mom?” “You don’t see me subjecting YOU to MY mom.” “What about maybe a ‘Thank you, Honey, for putting up with my Mom who we both know is a lot.’”

None of those made it into the air. His whole line of thought was ground to a sudden halt by the SLAM-RRCH outside.

“Christ!” Maddie exclaimed, words drowned under the WHEEP WHEEP WHEEP woo woo woo.

Christophe moved with momentum, with adrenaline. He slammed open their unit door and rounded the hall with bare feet (“Hush, Bucky.”)

Outside, some woman was standing just outside her car, lipstick smeared across her cheek and holding her hands against either side of her head.

“What did you DO?” Christophe snapped, all but shoving her out of the way while his heart raced and he investigated the dent in his fender.

“I don’t know!! I didn’t see it! I didn’t see it!” the woman echoed in hysterics. She blinked tears that smeared down her mascara. “Let me call Mikey! He’ll know what to do!”

“Don’t call anyone, Christ. I have to leave for work soon! Just get your insurance documents out of your car, …Fucking Christ.”

The woman stood motionless. She’d been shocked quiet, but still blubbered mutely while the tears fell from her mascara. Great. Great. Another person making Christophe into the bad guy. He rubbed his finger over the red paint scratched into his fender, and he let out a noise that got Bucky barking again.

…

Christophe took his seat at the office, slinking in fifteen minutes late with the mantra-like hope that Bruce hadn’t seen him come in late. It wasn’t his fault his idiot neighbor had scraped his car. It wasn’t his fault that Summer Street was backed up all the way to Oak Road, which he’d screamed himself hoarse about in the car, leaning on his horn all the while.

“Your mom can come over for dinner. It’s fine,” Christophe texted to Madeline. He entertained the hope that it didn’t come across passive-aggressive, but he also couldn’t find the will to include a heart-emoji or an “I love you” that might have softened the tone.

“Okay. Thanks,” she answered.

Christophe’s blood boiled all over. He read emails and re-read them, again and again, because their contents would not stick in his mind.

“Mahone, Charles, Kim, my office. Now.”

Christophe snapped upright, heart stirred to a frenzy for the too-many’th time today. The ice trickle down his spine said “Fuck, you are in trouble for getting in late.” But the inclusion of Frankie and Arnold did not make sense for that. The realization sat like a brick in his stomach while he rose, and met eyes with Frankie and Arnold, and followed Bruce into his office.

Bruce was wearing an ugly olive green shirt with an uglier plum tie when he closed the office door behind them all, and his face was an even uglier scarlet.

“Can any of you three… fucking explain to me, why this email was in my inbox this morning?” Bruce shifted into theatrics, reading each scathing note with a pizzazz solely for the purpose of getting under Christophe’s skin, Christophe was sure. Arnold and Frankie seemed to wince in unison with each lunge Bruce made, but Christophe refused to break posture.

“So tell me, Mahone, how does this happen?”

“You should ask Kim,” Christophe said. Frankie winced again, and it made Christophe madder the way his mind likened Frankie to a scolded dog. “He was the one handling the client.”

“No, I am asking you, Mahone. This is your team. Do not make excuses and do not shift blame. That’s what a weak man does.”

(“Then explain what exactly you’re doing right now.”) Christophe thought to himself. But he did not say it out loud, because he too was a scolded dog.

…

Christophe muttered a curse through each blocking cart and each clueless shopper blocking his path. He got avocadoes, and later doubled-back for the onion, and then doubled-back again for the limes. The chips were in the wrong aisle, because some stupid fucking store manager had decided to move everything again. Christophe forgot the jalapenos.

“Ah, he’s back. Finally,” Madeline’s mother Lucinda said the moment Christophe opened the front door. She leered over her glass of whisky, which immediately set fire to Christophe’s ever-simmering disdain for her.

“I came from work, Lucinda. Because I have a job,” Christophe bit back.

“You people always have excuses,” and it is one ‘you people’ too many, so Christophe set the grocery bag down and disappeared into the living room to throw himself on the couch.

“Mom do not speak to him that way,” Madeline said.

“Well did you see the way he talked to me? Called me jobless.”

“Mom, we’re not doing this.”

“You always want to make me the bad guy.”

Twenty minutes passed, with the living room growing dark around Christophe while he seethed into his phone. He marinated in his spite. There was no reason to make him share a room with Lucinda, in his own apartment. It was his, after all. Madeline moved into his apartment.

Soft footsteps broke his train of thought. Someone stood blocking the bit of light leaking in from the dining room.

“Christophe, hey… That was really out of line of my mom. Sorry.”

“You think?” Christophe answered.

“She’s miserable, and she needs to make everyone else miserable.”

“She does not ‘need’ to. She chooses to. And you let her.”

“I don’t ‘let’ her, Christophe. Don’t make her actions my fault.”

“Her being here is your fault.”

“She…” Madeline breathed hard out of her nose, and she lowered her voice. “She insisted on it. Absolutely insisted.”

“My mom insists I send her money. I just don’t.”

“It’s different.”

Christophe let out a little snort. He let the silence linger.

“…Look, I’ll say thank you once she’s gone, okay. A really really big thank you. I’ll make you any dinner you want this weekend, as a thank you. Okay? Because… she’s a lot. I know she’s a lot. So… thank you.”

The anger boiling in Christophe ebbed a fraction, and he almost resented this more, because this whole day was so much easier if he let himself fester in it.

…

“Ethel’s cancer is back. Poor girl. Lopped off both her breasts already. What more can you do?”

“Oh no… Mom, that’s horrible.”

Christophe dipped his chips in the guacamole without jalapeno. He did his best to avoid looking at Lucinda without making it obvious he was avoiding her. He tuned in only long enough to hear ‘cancer’, and tuned back out when he was sure Ethel was no one he knew.

Ethel as a topic stuck. Lucinda seemed to revel in it, in that way she loved, to bring up something horrific and make it everyone else’s burden to indulge her on it. It sickened Christophe, the way she seemed to light up at every opportunity to tell you something horrible.

“Ethel has honestly made me realize something. And it’s that life is short. And one day you’re gonna wake up with breast cancer, thinking to yourself, ‘Why’d I waste all this life?’” Lucinda stuffed another bite of taco in her face. Through her food she spoke. “So I wanted to tell you this myself, Maddie. And I didn’t want to just ‘text’ it to you, okay? I need you to see my face so you know I’m upset too and so you don’t accuse me of mean and hateful things.”

Christophe stiffened, angry before he even knew what he was angry about, just certain of the fact that Lucinda was about to make something worse for him than it already was.

“John and I are getting a divorce.”

Madeline’s face was fully white. “Mom, no… Mom, you said you were doing therapy.”

“I am! And I’ve realized that I deserve better than what John is doing to me.”

“Better than John? You deserve better than John, Mom?”

“Madeline this is MY life. Do not do this thing you do where you try to make it ALL about how hurt you are.”

“Shut up! Jesus fucking Christ!” Christophe slammed his fork down. “Is this all you do? Show up to make everyone miserable? Come here to make Madeline cry?”

“Christophe, don’t," Madeline whispered.

“She’s a miserable fucking bat and she’s doing this to cause drama. What a happy day for John to finally be fucking rid of you!!” Christophe turned to Lucinda, his eyes wild, and he broke into emphatic applause. And each clap was for his mom. For his dad. For the woman who hit his car. For Bruce. For the morning traffic. For the brainless idiot blocking the limes in the grocery store. “YAY JOHN! YAY JOHN! FREE OF HIS FUCKING SHACKLES!! HOORAY JOHN!!”

And in front of him, Lucinda crumbled. Into sobs. Into hysterics that seized her whole body and shook it. Blubbering, to the point of wailing. She kicked her chair back, and on unsteady feet she rounded out of the dining room.

“Mom! Mom, come back. Christophe did NOT mean that.” Madeline gave him one scathing look before disappearing after her mother, the front door to the unit opening and clicking shut. Feet on the stairs. Below them, Bucky bellowed woo woo woo.

And then it was quiet.

And then Christophe was alone.

With all the makings of tacos scattered around him, with guacamole going brown in a too-small bowl, Christophe was entirely alone.

Alone, he sat. Alone, he thought. Alone, his righteous anger slipped away from him like the tide. He felt naked and cold as it left him. He felt his cheeks burn. He felt his own self-loathing nestle into the shape of where his anger used to be.

He spat a curse. He spat another. He stood. He kicked a chair. He shoved the table, unseating one glass of water which toppled and spilled its stream in a ppttititktikt to the floor. He grabbed his head like the woman who hit his car, and he dropped to a hunch.

And when staying like this felt unreasonable, Christophe unfolded himself. He rubbed his eyes. He stacked dishes, and popped Tupperware containers, and scrubbed down the counter, and set the dishwasher to its 4-hour delay.

He showered. He got in bed alone. He stewed on every kind of apology he thought of texting Madeline, but his pride burned against each one. He stewed until his phone buzzed, and some sick part of him held the hope that maybe it was an apology from Madeline.

“I don’t think this is the relationship I want. I’ll be by tomorrow morning to get my things.”

“…Fuck.” Christophe slammed his phone down. “Fuck!” He grabbed his phone back and he sat up, and with all the force he could muster he pitched it against the hardwood floor. Its case exploded off, screen shattering to magnificent spiderwebs. Tinkling bits of glass and plastic scattered unseen across the floor.

Christophe was breathing hard. He was seized by the absolute sheer unfairness of everything. He wanted a do over. He wanted a different today. He wanted one more chance to not let everything go to absolute shit.

Christophe woke up on April 7th for the second time.

… ... ...

It is 9:10pm on the 274th day of April 7th, and Madeline has fallen asleep against Christophe’s arm.

And this is optimal, surely.

He’d said the right thing. Hadn’t made it about Madeline’s parents or his own. Was it always that simple? That she wanted assurance she wasn’t going to end up like John. “That won’t be us.” That was all?

Christophe should be happy.

He did it right, finally.

This is the escape criteria, surely.

Well, "surely" is a silly word for Christophe to use. As if the criteria were ever a mystery. As is he himself hadn't been activating the loop every single time.

April 7th would last exactly as long as he decided to make it last. That had been the case since his very first loop.

He's found "optimal." He has a reason, finally, to stop activating the loop. He can stop making today perfect. He can let tomorrow be April 8th, for the first time.

And it is about time, isn’t it? To let those babies be born. To let those people die. To let the people having the worst day of their lives and the best day of their lives finally move on to just another day.

He’s been feeling guilty about it lately, every time he feels the day hasn’t been optimal, and he made the choice to activate that power that sprung up like a wellspring inside him while he’d screamed and smashed his phone on the ground.

Tomorrow is April 8th.

Tomorrow everything moves forward.

Christophe’s palms are clammy.

He thinks about waking up at a time he doesn’t know tomorrow. He thinks about birds singing to a tune he cannot already hear like a rehearsal in his head.  

He thinks of everything Madeline might say, and he grows colder at the idea he won’t know what to say back.

He thinks about starting fresh, with a whole unoptimized day ahead of him.

It makes him cold. With Madeline snugged tight against him, Christophe feels so cold.

…

Christophe wakes up the next morning to an empty bed. He checks his phone, checks his text messages, checks the weather. He gets out of bed, and he heads down the stairs to the smell of brewed coffee.

“Morning,” he says, planting a kiss on Madeline’s head. She looks up from the dishwasher long enough to give him a “Morning,” back. Christophe pours his own cup of coffee.

“Oh,” Madeline says. “My mom wants to come over for dinner tonight. Kinda late notice but is that okay?” she always asks.

“Yeah, sure,” Christophe answers warmly, feeling like he’s fallen in love with life all over. “I hope she’s got more stories about Boki.”

[achilles-rage]

Tummy

summary: when buck decides to start his cut a little early, you show him how much you love his tummy.

word count: 2.8k

a/n: i got 2 requests for bucktummy adjacent things; bucktummy smut and crop top buck, so i decided to combine them. love these requests because i am the #1 bucktummy supporter. enjoy<3

warnings: smut, bucktummy (deserves the warning), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ Only!

Buck drops his bag on the floor as soon as he steps over the threshold of his apartment, both his arms and legs feeling like jello as he makes his way over to the couch and plops down beside you. He rests his head on the backrest of the couch, letting out a big sigh, which catches your attention.

You set your book down beside you and turn slightly to face him, frowning at his clear exhaustion. You tug the blanket further up your lap as it falls slightly, now angling your body towards his as you sit criss-cross beside him.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you ask in a sad voice, reaching out to grab his hand. You know he went to the gym today, and he usually loves the gym, so you’re a little confused about why he’s in such a bad mood. His hair is still damp from his shower, but even then, you know that he’s usually not at the gym for this long either.

“Started my cut today. Worked a little too hard, I guess.” he tells you, trying to shrug it off as he turns his head and looks at you. Your frown gets deeper at the mention of his cut.

“You started your cut already? Don’t you have another week left?” you ask, confusion written across your face. He has a calendar on his fridge, and you see it pretty much every day. You know you’re right because you love when he bulks.

“Wanted to start early.” he says one hand moving to rest on his shirt-covered tummy instinctively. You furrow your brows as your eyes follow his movements, and when you look back up at him, he sighs before he explains.

“Look at my belly; it’s getting too big. Just figured I’d start the cut early.” he says nonchalantly, and you scoff.

“I like your tummy.” you tell him, and it’s his turn to be confused. You laugh softly at his confused expression, then get up onto your knees and throw the blanket off your legs before you lean over to meet his lips in a kiss.

“You really like it?” he asks in disbelief as he pulls back, and you roll your eyes as you smile.

“Baby, your tummy is hot.” you tell him a bit sternly, although the smile is still on your face. He chuckles quietly, running his tongue across the inside of his cheek, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

He grabs your hips and pulls you to straddle him, and you happily oblige, sitting on his lap. His hands move up from your hips, up under your sweater to your waist, his thumbs gently rubbing circles on the sides of your own tummy.

“Why does that sound so familiar?” he asks in a teasing tone, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes slightly as he looks up at you.

You sometimes have what you both have deemed “bad body days,” and when you do, Buck is quick to praise your belly, showering it with kisses and soft touches. He’s never upset at you for those days; he knows they happen to everyone, so when you tell him you’re having one of those days, he makes everything about you.

“Because you say that to me all the time. And I don’t think you’re lying when you say that, are you?” you ask, tilting your head in the same direction as his as your arms find their place draped over his shoulders.

“Of course not.” he tells you, his face going serious for a moment. You smile, leaning down to kiss his nose, which makes him scrunch his face up.

“Then you have to believe me when I tell you that your tummy is hot, too. That’s how it works.” you tell him with a smile, tightening your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. “Let me show you how much I love it.” you whisper against his lips.

“I feel like we’ve had this exact conversation before.” he teases, pulling you back gently by the back of your neck to meet your pretty eyes.

“So let me return the favour; show you how much I love your body. Tummy and all.” you purr, and he grins before he pulls you back in for a desperate kiss. You begin to slowly grind your hips against his, feeling the tent growing in his sweatpants. He lets out a low groan, hands firmly gripping your plush hips and forcing you to move harder against him.

You feel like a teenager with the way you’re both clawing at each other, kisses sloppy and desperate as you try to pour all of your love and affection into your actions.

Suddenly, you pull back with a mischievous smile on your face. He raises a brow, but he doesn’t have time to ask you what the hell you’re thinking about before you’re off his lap and halfway up the stairs to his room.

You come back down less than a minute later, and although you weren’t gone long, Buck has to resist the growing urge to palm himself through his grey sweats. He looks confused when you throw his crop top at him, and then settle on the couch beside him and urge him to stand up.

He looks down at the fabric for a moment. He cut it himself one day on a whim after seeing a fitness guy he follows on Instagram wearing one, but he’d only ever worn it around the house.

“Come on, put it on.” you tell him in an encouraging tone. And he shrugs before pulling his other shirt off and putting on the crop top. Your eyes travel down to his tummy peeking out of the shirt, and you bite your lip, a soft hum escaping your lips.

“Now, get up. Do a spin for me.” you say in a teasing tone. He rolls his eyes, trying not to laugh as he lets out a huff. As he stands up, you smack his ass, watching him intently as he moves to stand in front of you, putting his arms out and gesturing to himself.

“Spin.” you say again with a giggle, and he huffs before he follows your order. The shirt stops at the perfect spot, allowing his tummy to poke out, as if teasing you. All you want to do is kiss and bite at his tummy, but you hold back, taking in his back as he turns in a circle.

“Why am I doing this?” he asks once he’s facing you again. He stays standing in front of you, waiting for you to tell him to sit down, and he blushes when he sees just how into his tummy you are. Your eyes are focused on it, and with the way your chest is moving quickly, he’s sure your heartbeat has increased as well.

You can’t help it. He’s a large man. Strong and solid. He has clear, defined muscles, although there’s a layer of fat covering parts of his body, and that’s what makes your mouth water. He’s soft around the edges, and it reminds you that although he’s the strongest man you’ve ever dated, quite possibly ever met, he’s still so soft with you, so calm and comforting. You can nuzzle against him after a hard day, and you know that his strong arms can protect you as well.

“Do you remember when I was feeling insecure, and you made me wear that set for you that I was too scared to wear?” you ask, finally tearing your eyes away from his soft tummy and looking into his eyes. He nods, realization finally crossing his face.

“Is this payback?” he asks, and you nod, laughing along with him. You stand up and close the distance between you, hands going to his chest before drifting down to his exposed tummy.

“I like your tummy, and I’m gonna prove it to you.” You don’t give him a chance to reply before you grab the front of his shirt and make him turn. You move him back towards the couch and push him to sit on it, earning a soft grunt as he hits the couch.

You’re back on his lap again in an instant, kissing and nipping at his neck as your hips instinctively move against his in a slow grind. You can feel your arousal pooling between your legs, and every touch feels magnified as you feel the material of his sweatpants brushing against your bare legs. You’re wearing a hoodie and sleep shorts; you were ready for a lazy day at home, but now, you have other plans.

When you feel you’ve given his neck enough attention, you get up and kneel in front of him, hands spreading his legs far enough for you to fit between.

You raise his crop top with both hands, holding it high enough for you to see his entire belly, and you trail your eyes up to meet his gaze slowly.

“Love your tummy. My pretty boy.” you murmur before you lower your lips to his tummy, starting to kiss just below his chest. He watches you with a dazed expression as you press gentle kisses down his tummy, moving up and down and left to right above his belly button. You can see from the corner of your eye that his hands are firmly placed on the couch, fingers digging into the material as if he’s itching to touch you, and you lean back just enough to speak.

“You can touch me, baby.” He listens immediately, putting one hand on the side of your head as he lets out a deep breath, and you hum happily as you lower your lips back down to meet his tummy. You move down below his belly button, keeping eye contact as you kiss over the freckles and scars that you’re sure you don’t want to know the stories behind.

With the way he’s looking down at you, you’re positive that he’s never been worshipped like this before. You know he likes worshipping you, and you’re sure he’s done it with every partner he’s ever been with, but with the way his breath is catching in his throat and his cheeks are red and hot, it’s clear that he’s not used to the attention being turned onto him.

And as you kiss down his tummy, you’re not sure why he’s not used to this. He’s a gorgeous man, obviously, and you don’t think you can point out a physical imperfection even if you tried.

He lets out a soft whimper when you remove one hand from his crop top and slide it down his tummy to the bulge in his sweatpants, palming him slowly while you take your lips away from his hot skin right above the waistband of the sweats sitting low on his hips.

His hand moves down to your cheek and he brushes a thumb over your chubby cheek, and you smile. You ghost your other hand down his tummy as you continue to move your hand over his leaking cock, and when your hand finally reaches the waistband of his grey sweats, you take your other hand away from him and tap his thigh lightly.

He lifts his hips easily, and you pull his sweats and his boxers down his legs in one swift motion, grinning as his cock springs free, tip bright red as it slaps against his soft tummy.

“You want something, pretty boy?” you ask in a slightly teasing tone, mouth watering as you try to focus on his face. He nods desperately, his hands clenched into fists as he resists the urge to take matters into his own hands and push your head down until you’re choking and gagging on him.

“Please.” he practically whimpers, and your smile turns into a smirk. You spit into your hand before you wrap it around his cock, pumping him a few times. He licks his lips, groaning as he watches your hand move, and then a breathy plea escapes his lips again, and you giggle softly.

You don’t tease him any further, however, and you lower your mouth down to lick a firm strip up the underside of his aching cock. He moans, watching you intently as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, licking the bead of precum and humming softly.

His hand finds the back of your head, and your eyes dart between his eyes and his tummy before you push yourself down as far as you can, feeling him hitting the back of your throat as tears form in your eyes.

The groan he lets out is music to your ears, and encourages you on, moving slowly up and down on his cock as you moan around his length. Your sounds vibrate up his cock and through his entire body, and he throws his head back against the back of the couch as he gently guides your head up and down on him.

You lower as far as you can again. The hair on his pubic bone is tickling your nose, and you can hardly breathe, but with the way he’s whimpering and squirming under you, you don’t care. While one hand stays on his thigh, keeping yourself balanced on your knees while the carpet beneath you digging patterns into your skin, the other moves up to his tummy again. Your fingers dig into the flesh, and he tilts his head back down to look at you again, his eyes wide as the moan dies on his lips.

“Jesus Christ, you’re killing me.” he whispers, and you pull away from him with a quiet pop, your lips wet and pupils dilated.

“Love your tummy, baby.” is all you say before you lower back onto him again, moving with increased fervor as you move your hand from his thigh to the base of his cock. You move your hand and your mouth in unison, desperate to bring him release, and he groans, feeling his high quickly approaching.

What finally sends him over the edge is when you pull your mouth back from his cock for a split second, continuing to pump him with your hand as your mouth goes down to kiss and lick his balls. He doesn’t even have time to warn you before he’s cumming all over his soft tummy, white hot cum dripping down his skin as he looks down at you with hooded eyes.

You give him a smile, mumbling a “so good for me” as you lean back before you stick your tongue out and begin to lick up the cum littered across his tummy. Your eyes move between his cum-covered tummy and his face as you clean him off, and if he wasn’t so overwhelmed right now, he’s sure he’d cum again at the sight.

When you’re sure you’ve gotten it all, you lean back, giving him a sickly-sweet smile as you stay on your knees between his legs.

“Do you believe me now, baby?” you ask, and he nods quickly, swallowing and taking in large breaths.

“I think I do.” he replies, and you beam.

“Wanna do one more thing.” you murmur, eyes already on his tummy as you lean back in, mouth going to the soft flesh a couple inches above his hip bone, but not quite on his side. He knows what you’re doing as soon as you start, and while he knows he probably shouldn’t let you; he can’t bring himself to stop you.

You pull back after a moment, admiring the big, dark mark you left on his skin. You then make eye contact with him, giving him a sheepish smile.

“You like it?” you ask, and he finally tears his gaze off of your face and to the work of art you’ve just created on his flesh.

“I love you.” is all he says before he takes your hands from his thighs, urging you to stand up. You squeal when he hoists you up by the back of your thighs and into his arms, giggling as he stalks into the kitchen and sets you down on the counter. He still has the crop top on, and you’re fully clothed, which, for some reason, excites you.

“Gonna show you how much I like it.” he purrs before his lips find yours, kissing you desperately. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him impossibly closer, aching to have him inside of you.

“Keep the shirt on.” you whisper against his lips, and he chuckles as he pulls away, grabbing your ankles and pulling your ass to the edge of the counter. You fall back onto the counter as he tugs you, giggling as he looks down at you with dark eyes.

“With pleasure.” he murmurs before he’s yanking at your shorts, eager to finish what you started.

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[starstruckgrrl]

CAn u do one for dr stone

Senku tbh js do anything

a/n: i came out of hiding to make this 😛 also i did get another request at the exact same time for a senku x reader so i’m hoping this was also you bc i don’t wanna do 2 in a row 😭

‧₊˚ ෆ synopsis: you came to visit your favorite future nobel prize winning scientist in the school chemistry lab, but you were bothered on your way there.

~ warnings: smut, afab!reader, no pronouns used on reader, reader has a crush on senku, senku knows, kissing, oral (f receiving), seniors in high school, sweet!senku, confession

as you walked towards the grand science lab at the end of the hall (aka senku’s lair), you fished out a pocket mirror from your backpack to check on how you looked at the moment.

“checking your appearance before you see the mad scientist?” taiju asks you, and you nod in response.

“i’m gonna try to tell him today, so i need to look perfect.”

“good luck!” taiju shouts, “i’m gonna tell yuzuriha tomorrow!”

“i believe in you!” you reply as he runs off to find her.

you swing open the door to the science lab where you find senku writing notes as a solution bubbles before him.

“hello, y/n.” senku greets.

you greet him back and sit next to him, and he finishes his writing and closes the notebook. he turns to face you, looking at you seriously.

“y/n, we should talk.” he says.

oh no… isn’t that YOUR line? you’re the one who came to confess! is he mad you intruded on him? he looks so serious too… this can’t end well.

you immediately begin to worry, and he picks up on that.

“don’t overthink, i’m not upset with you!” he says to stop your train of thought.

“not even one millimeter?” you reply teasingly, looking at him through your lashes with a sly smile.

he grins back at you and shakes his head.

“y/n, you know i’m not one for formalities and tradition. i believe in innovation and science. having a partner always seemed like one of those stupid traditions to me…”

tears begin to well up in your eyes. he knew about your crush, and was trying to let you down easy, you thought.

“but, even so, i am human, i can’t deny how i feel.”

senku grabs your hands and holds them in his, a complete change for the usually non-physically intimate man he is.

“y/n, i… like you. i can tell you like me too, and you just understand me in a way other people don’t.”

senku cringes before he finally says, “will you be my partner?”

“of course i will, senku!” you reply, throwing yourself onto him to wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close for a hug.

he hugs you back, relishing in the moment for a while. he pulls back to look at you, face to face, before he says, “we’ve been together for 52 seconds.”

you smile wide and laugh, sweet and genuine.

“are you going to be keeping count from now on?” you asked.

“obviously. i will have to know when to buy you anniversary presents.”

you reach up to cup his face and leaned in to kiss him. it starts slow, experimental from the both of you. senku begins to get more passionate, though, to have confessed in the first place, he must be pretty passionate about you. he only involves himself in things he truly believes in or cares about.

senku breaks the kiss to breathe, your foreheads still connected as you inhale and exhale quickly. he let his hands rest on your sides, above your ass, and pulls him towards you, gesturing for you to sit on his lap.

the two of you kiss again, and you begin to feel the familiar heat pool in your lower half as you grind on his thigh, ever so slightly. however, senku being as attentive as he is, of course notices.

putting his hand on your inner thigh and rubbing your core through your pants, he says, “let me help.”

~

you end up laying on your back on an empty table in the science lab, with senku between your bare legs, your pants and underwear laid next to you.

senku is, for once, vulnerable looking as he sits on his knees. you don’t have time to tease him at the sight, though, because his fingers are working so well at your clit, rolling the sensitive bud and drawing circles on it. his mouth is too occupied to tease you for the way your face is so flushed, as his tongue is drawing figure 8s in your cunt.

the two of you are lucky everyone is gone from the school, as the moans you’re letting out would immediately notify anyone nearby.

~

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

Secrets Kept From Him Ran Haitani x Fem Reader Chapter 1: Secrets WC: 3.5K+ Resident: @enchantedforest-networkTW: Past relationship with Ran, Disappearing, Slight Suggestive Themes, Angst, Drinking, Suggestive Language, Secret Child He Doesn't Know About (unedited) MINOR DNI 18+

‘I promised to be by your side’ for years this phrase would haunt Ran in his sleep. His eyes opened up in the darkness of the room. He turned his head to the

side to see the woman he picked up for the night who was fast asleep. It just didn’t feel right no matter how many girls he brought home, nothing felt complete. To be exact no one could replace you. 5 years had passed by without a sign of where you left. He had tried to track you down when you first left. Trying to get a hold of family members, friends even trying to find connections to search for you. But each time there was a lead it was a dead end. ‘Why do I keep doing this to myself… they are not the same’ he sighed. He was doing this to himself, comparing each woman with you. Behind his smile only his brother could see that he wasn’t happy. The following morning Ran was still charming as he called a cab for his late night friend to be picked up. “Thanks for last night, I'll give you a call sometime.” flashing a smile seeing the woman get into the cab as it began to travel down the road. The smile on his face faded, his hands placed in his pockets as he went into his home. 

~~~~~~

“We just got in…no we are heading there right now…” you sat in the back of the private car as you were on the phone, you were looking through the windows, it's been years since you've been in Tokyo. It still looked the same. The bit of nostalgia hitting you as you passed by some familiar buildings. “Hey listen I will call you later tonight and keep you updated.. Okay… okay bye.”  you hung up the phone. “Everything is so big over here!” your daughter looked out from her booster seat. “You used to live here right mommy?”  her violet eyes looked over at you. “Yeah before you were born.” softly smiled as you ran your fingers through her long soft locks. 

You left Tokyo when you found out you were a few weeks pregnant. Ran didn’t know about the baby. It did worry you when finding out about your pregnancy, you were scared shitless. Ran coming home sometimes covered in blood, you had expressed your concerns for his safety many times. He would simply say ‘you don’t need to worry about a thing my love.’ but it worries you every single time. You worried you would get a call about a deal going south and he wouldn’t make it or if someone found out about you or your guy's baby you wouldn’t know what this person might do. You couldn’t take that risk, you needed to protect yourself and your baby. 

It hurt you to leave him  the way you did without any notice nor telling him where you were going. The days passed into months and your daughter was brought into the world. Along with trying to figure out how to be a mother you were dealing with your own anxiety. Looking at her growing each day she inherited Ran’s looks. You had a little piece of Ran with you. You wanted to give your daughter the opportunity to grow up in Tokyo and enjoy it like you did as a child. “We should be arriving at our new home tomorrow sweetheart.” you spoke. You bought a home on the other side of Tokyo avoiding some of the places you and Ran would visit. He was a creature of comfort he would usually stick to the places he was familiar with. The home would have all your belongings by the end of the day today. You were going to stay in one of the Hotels that had great reviews online. It was fairly new as well. Still in the back of your mind wondering what would happen if you would have run into him by accident or his brother… You wouldn’t know what you would do. Your mind would play thousands of possible scenarios from him being happy, to being betrayed and upset with you.

“Mommy we are here!” your daughter exclaimed as the car stopped in front of the Hotel. “Great lets put our stuff in the hotel and do a bit of sightseeing before it gets late.” opening the car door.

~~~~~~~~

“Ran, are you paying attention?” Rindou called out to his brother who was spaced out.

“Hmmm oh yeah, what time do we have to meet up with them again?”  They were in the car going to the destination meeting some possible clients for the club. One being a heiress of a prestigious alcohol company. Ran knew what he exactly had to do to get this contract with her. Even if it meant he had to sleep with her. “Seriously you cannot mess this up. If we can reduce the cost of this we are golden.” Rin looked over at his brother. “I know. Why don’t I just sleep with the bimbo first then you talk to her about contracts, she wouldn’t be able to process the quote we give her without thinking about events that happened before that.”  Ran suggested giving a smirk. His brother let out a deep sigh pinching the bridge of his nose “You have that full confidence in you by all means have at it. Might leave this to you right now then come back later on.” As the car pulled up to the hotel. Ran pulled up a photo of the heiress to make sure he wouldn’t mistake her for anyone else. He studied her features, making him woo her easily. He did look different from the last time you saw him. His hair was styled differently and wear a nice suit. You and your daughter were exiting out to the lobby. Your attention was on your daughter as she was happily talking to you as you held her hand.In this brief moment your paths crossed with his but both were too busy in your own worlds to notice each other at that moment. A faint smell of a familiar cologne hit your nostril for a moment. Looking up for a moment you were passing a group of gentlemen thinking it was one of them wearing the cologne Ran used to wear. You refocused your attention on your daughter.

Ran would be heading to the bar of the hotel where he is greeted by the striking beauty who was waiting for him. “Ms. Yamaguchi, I'm glad you were able to make it on such short notice.” Ran smiled as reaching for her hand kissing the back of it. “You do look lovely tonight. I’m Ran Haitani.” “Lovely to meet you Ran. They told me you were handsome but not so charming as well.” she looked at him with a sultry look. “You have a brother as well Rindou if I remember correctly… where is here tonight?” She looked towards the doorway. “He had to take care of some things at the club. I guess in the meantime while we wait, we can get to know each other? Can I buy you a drink?” the smile that no woman could resist. She gladly accepted his offer. It would only take him an hour to end up in her hotel room. 

Few hours would pass as you made your way back to the hotel with your daughter along with someone you trusted since the day you left. “We are glad you will join us for dinner tonight. I made reservations.” you smiled. Looking over at your aunt who you kept in contact with. 

“I'm glad to be finally seeing you both in a while. For a chance you both get to visit me for once.” she chuckled while walking into the hotel lobby. Your aunt never met Ran before, only had heard about him from the stories you would tell her. She did suggest telling him the minutes you gave birth to your daughter but she respected your choices on why you didn’t. 

When you pressed the elevator button you waited patiently. You saw something on your daughter's face. Kneeling down,facing away from the elevator cleaning her cheek. On the other side of the elevator coming down, Ran was focused on the lovely Ms. Yamaguchi. Her hands draped around his neck. As she playfully talked to him. “I never had a client take such good care of me.” her finger tips touching his lips. “Well there will be more if you like later on.” he was leaning in before the elevator stopped. They were on the lobby floor. When opening the door they saw a mom kneeling down with her back toward them, seeming to be cleaning her daughter's face accompanied by an elderly lady. Ran smiled as he exited the elevator. He noticed the little girl and thought she was adorable. Her eye color was similar to his own; he didn't really pay mind to all the details of the girl but her eyes. They made their way towards the bar where Rindou was. They heard the little girls say “mommy lets get in the elevator!” “Okay okay let's hurry in.” you chuckled. From that distance Ran heard the familiar voice that stopped him for a moment. When his head turned around he was able to get a look of the mom who was standing up. From a side view his heart dropped seeing you.  He watched you holding onto the little girl's hand entering the elevator. “Ran dear everything alright?” Ms. Yamaguchi asked when Ran seemed to pause for a moment.  He couldn’t just move seeing that you were here in the hotel he was at. He needed to talk to you. Ran composing himself quickly he turned his attention back to Ms. Yamaguchi. “Yes of course I thought I knew someone. But shall we meet up with my brother?” he asked, covering his issues with a smile. During the discussion between Ms. Yamaguchi and Rindou , Ran wasn’t paying attention. His mind was focusing on other things. His past love being here and trying to figure out what his next move would be. He could wait in the lobby till you came down again. Rindou would look at his brother's direction seeing he was preoccupied in thoughts. “Ran… Ran.” Rindou called out.

“Hmm I’m sorry what is happening?” he asked. 

“Must be still a little dazed and confused because of our private discussion earlier.” Ms. Yamaguchi smiled. “We were going over the quantity and price range.” Rindou spoke. “We agreed on this number.” Rindou pulls out a small notepad along with a pen jotting down the number and handing it to Ms. Yamaguchi.

She looked at the number. “I think we can make this work. Your brother can be very convincing ya know. I will have the contracts ready by tomorrow for both of you to sign.” She picked up her drink while taking a sip. The next thing she knew she had her phone ring. “Hello yes…Well I'm in the middle of something right now. I left you in charge for one minute and you decided to screw things up.” she sighed she brought the phone away from her ear “I do apologize gentlemen but something needs my attention. I will have my assistant send over the contracts in the morning. If you will excuse me I need to take care of this.” She got up from the seat walking away.  Rindou looked at his brother “What the hell is going on with you?” “What if I told you about someone from the past staying in this hotel right now.” Ran gave his brother a side glance bringing his drink to his lips. “Can you confirm they are here?” Rin leaned back in his chair. “She is here, I saw her. She still looked the same, just like I remember.” Ran spoke. “There is something else too.. She had some company with her” “Company you say? Who’s the guy?” he asked. Rin was already prepared to make something look like an accident waiting for his brother to describe the guy you might be with. “It wasn’t a guy…. It was a little girl and some older woman I’ve never seen before.” Ran began to remember the child feature more. The pretty violet eyes that resembled his, the child that looked no older than 4 or 5. “I need to talk to her more before assuming something… Listen, she will eventually come down. I wanna talk to her.” ~~~~~~ Fixing your daughter's hair you had her in a pretty purple dress. “You look great sweetie.” holding her hands. “You do too mommy.” her small hands cupping your cheeks as she gave your eskimo kisses. “You guys ready?” you asked your daughter and aunt. “Ready!” they both exclaimed. Walking out of the room. Getting into the main lobby you headed to the area where the restaurant was. 

Rindou wanted to see if Ran really saw the woman from his brother's past. He was casually sitting in the lobby looking at his phone each time the elevator opened and his eyes were on the elevator. His eyes focused on you when you stepped out with your daughter and aunt. He was in a bit of disbelief seeing you. Picking up his phone. “Hey you were right…. She is heading towards the restaurant.. Just one thing don’t act like an idiot just-” the phone was cut off “son of a .” he grit his teeth. He didn’t want his brother to do anything drastic infront of people. Ran was already at the restaurant. He had a seat in the corner where the bar stand was. Just a minute later after hanging up with Rin. He saw the group of three arriving at the check in. The server shows you to your table. The more he watched you the more he wanted to walk up to the table and talk to you. Hearing the small giggles coming from your daughter his heart was breaking. There was no doubt that was his little girl. It was like a little replica of him as a child. He wasn’t a part of yours and her life. He wanted to get a better view of you both. Still questioning who the lady was you were with. He was by the walkway in the corner where it lead to the kitchen he leaned on the rail. Your daughter was looking around the restaurant amazed by how beautiful everything was. “Mommy look at the big fishes in the tank!” she pointed to the large aquarium-like tank behind them. “ I know they are big fishes.” you watched the fish swimming peacefully. Your daughter's  eyes are still roaming around. She happened to glance at a table where she saw a family sitting. She didn’t know who her dad was, she had asked about him but you kept it very short with the answers. Excuses of daddy being very busy with work. She watched as the dad interacted with his children, making them laugh. Ran saw her looking over at the table and her smile disappeared for a moment. You caught onto seeing your daughter frown on her face. “You okay sweetheart?” you asked her. “Mommy, will I ever get to meet my daddy? At my old school I would see daddy’s pick up their kids from school and the kids would do all these things with their daddy’s… I just…” she stopped her sentence and looked down fidgeting with her hands. Your aunt looked over at you, after hearing what your daughter said. She had told you many times and now your daughter was asking about her father. “ I know, baby.” you cupping her face lifting her cheeks up to look at you. Just this statement was killing you so much. She was suffering not knowing who her father was. “You will meet him one day.. I promise.” you smiled, kissing her forehead. “Why do we get something sweet after dinner? I will let you choose something from the menu.” you wanted to see that smile appear on her face. “Really?” her eyes brighten up. “That sounds like a good idea now. Why don’t I help you choose Sweetie?” your aunt suggested to your daughter who happily scooted closer to her as they both looked at the menu.

 Picking up your wine glass you sipped on your wine. You started to realize how many families were in the restaurant.  Your eyes began to wander around the restaurant to see some happy couple and families enjoying their meal. When your eyes reached the corner of the room they didn’t move when they landed on him. His distinct violet eyes appear back at you, even though he had a new hairstyle. He was there looking back at you, the eye contact didn’t break for a second. The moment your eyes looked away was when your daughter caught your attention. “Mommy I want this one!” She brought the menu close to you to show you the item she wanted.

“That does look like a yummy treat, sweetie.” you smile. You took a quick glance back at the corner where Ran was standing and he was gone. “Mommy is gonna go to the bathroom really fast okay? Behave for your aunt for me?” turning your attention back to your daughter. Your daughter nodded promising she would behave for you.

You got up from the booth and made your way to the corner of the restaurant. You couldn’t believe your feet were walking toward his direction. Your heart was pounding against your chest, as you approached closer. When you reached the area you saw an empty hallway. Walking down the empty hallway you saw the different paths to the hotel. You were looking down at the hallway but no sight of him. The quicker you were looking down the aisle when you felt someone grabbing your hand pulling you into an aisle of where rows of doors continue down the long hallway. The smell of his YSL cologne hit your nostrils, the hypnotizing violet eyes were close. It didn’t take long or Ran’s slender arm to wrap around your pulling you closer to his body. His other hand caressing your cheek as he brought you to his chest in a tight embrace. His head is buried in the top of your head taking a deep inhale of your scent. “____.” he whispered your name. It didn’t take much longer until you found yourself holding him. His embrace was just like you remembered, and how much you missed every moment of it. “I missed you…” 

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Chapter two link here ->ch.2

[hadesisqueer]

I'm not saying people must ship Kataang or anything, everyone here is free to ship whatever people want, but at the same time, some of the criticism I see of the ship is insane.

One of the softer ones (because today I saw some crazy stuff) is that they're sibling coded. Like, I watched ATLA several times, I kind of just rewatched ATLA, and yet I still don't get how exactly they're sibling coded? Aang pretty much had a crush on Katara from the moment he met her, and Katara at first saw him as a friend —she never said she saw him as 'her little brother', by the way, you guys need to learn the differences between sibling dynamics and friend dynamics—. That starts changing at the end of The Fortune Teller when she begins seeing Aang from another perspective, though. By the beginning of Book 2 it's pretty clear she has already started to develop a crush on him. If you think it's very 'sisterly' of her to blush while asking Aang 'we're in the Cave of the Two Lovers, so what if, you know-- what if we kissed 😳👉🏻👈🏻', then get upset when Aang said he wouldn't kiss her and then after they did kiss and were already out she blushes and gets nervous again-- or when she gets jealous in The Headband when he dances with another girl and then blushes again while dancing with him-- you're tuning into the wrong show, go watch Game of Thrones or something, because this is not it.

You can argue that Katara was 'like an older sister' or 'motherly' to Aang over the fact that she was often very caring towards him, but honestly, that's not it, either; otherwise, you could say that Katara sees Zuko as her brother because she likes teasing him. Do I think Katara and Zuko are sibling-coded? Not really. But if you say that Katara was sisterly or motherly to Aang because she's caring towards him, you can also say Katara sees Zuko as her brother because she often teased him the exact same way she teased Sokka, her older brother. (I do not think Katara sees Zuko as her brother, btw; just clearing this up. And I may not ship him and Katara but if that's your ship, you do you, I am not getting into a ship war here).

Katara in general is a very caring person, to the point that yeah, it comes off as 'motherly' sometimes. She was like that not just to Aang but towards Toph and Sokka as well. That doesn't mean she really sees any of them as her 'children' as well, guys, nor do any of them actually see them as their mother (well, Sokka kind of did, but that's another thing). And she's very protective of Aang, yeah. Try to switch Kataang's gender for a second; Katara as the boy and Aang as the girl. Switch it up and you have a girl with a cute crush on a slightly older boy who at first sees her as a friend but after a while starts reciprocating. If you saw that boy act more caring and protective of that girl, you wouldn't assume he sees her as a daughter, you'd just assume he is extremely protective because his feelings are strong. I once saw someone saying 'Katara acts like a Booktok boyfriend' and honestly? Kind of, yeah. A lot of Kataang is them being kind of a reverse of the stereotypical 'kind but stronger, older boy gets with sweet, younger girl' stuff we see in a lot of media. Both of them are very caring and supportive and constantly reassure each other, not just Katara to Aang, (and Aang is also very protective of Katara as well, we see it many times, most of all in The Avatar State), but Katara is the older one, and usually the most protective as well, the one who fought off Zuko at the North Pole to protect Aang, the one who almost lost it when she saw him literally die and fought off the Dai Li, Zuko and Azula to get him and get out at The Crossroads of Destiny, the one who grabs Zuko when he joins them and literally tells him 'hurt Aang and I will kill you'.

Yeah, I don't think Kataang is sibling-coded at all. That person is right, Katara is just Aang's 'Booktok boyfriend'.

[thanosscross]

Pretty boy, part 2/?- Kwon Ji-Yong/G-Dragon x reader

Summary: With your known stalker appearing in town, Ji-Yong was quick to make sure you were okay, only for him to charm his way right into your heart, you unknowingly doing the same for him.

Warnings: Mentions of a stalker, details of stalking, nothing else lovelies <33

Rehearsals ran fine the next day, there weren't any complications other than the boys teasing their friend anytime you and Ji-Yong had chorography together. As you all wrapped up the last part of rehearsals, Ji-Yong was quick to find you, it wasn't that you were acting different, Ji-Yong couldn't place it though, it just seemed like something was off with you today.

"Hey, Y/n!" He called out, weaving around the other dancers as he made it to you, smiling softly "What're you doing today? We start shows tomorrow, so I was thinking, maybe go out to lunch?" He asked nervously, fiddling with his rings as he suddenly felt anxious, he couldn't help it though, being around you made him feel anxious and giddy, especially whenever you'd smile at him. "H-Huh?..Oh, yea sure" You replied, seeming distracted as you peered out of the studio window, watching a car drive past. Ji-Yong furrowed his eyebrows, trying to see what you saw before giving up "Are you okay?..You've been..odd today" He asked, reaching for your hand only for you to take a step back as you flinched slightly "I'm fine. I-I need to go, just..call me?" You asked before handing him your phone, waiting nervously for him to enter his contact before you took your phone back, rushing back to the safety of your room.

You felt bad, not really speaking to Ji-Yong, and you really hoped he didn't think it was about last night. You had woken up that morning to hundreds of calls from your manager, letting you know the man who had stalked you for the last three years was seen in the town you were currently staying in. You were on high-alert, following your security guards training for this exact situation, it wasn't that you were famous, but with your job, and exposure to the public, you had your stalkers, just like everybody else who had a slight following on social media. You stayed in your room if you weren't working, always trying to stay low-key while still trying to stay professional. You jumped a bit, hearing your phone go off with a text.

' ‘Pretty boy ;) '

Hey, pretty girl

Everything okay? things aren't weird right?

I'm sorry if I made it weird last night :/

Ji-Yong could feel his heart pounding as he threw his phone on the bed, covering his face with his hands "I don't know! She just..seemed so freaked out whenever I was talking to her and not in a cute way..it was kind of scary.." He ranted to his friends, running his hands through his hair as Dae-Sung picked up his friend's phone watching as three dots started to bounce at the bottom of the screen. "Ji, you're getting a reply, so obviously she's not ghosting you" He smiled, offering the phone back, Ji-Yong just threw himself on the bed, feeling his chest start to tighten with anxiety "No! What if she's saying she never wants to see me again!? And I ruined it?" He yelled into the blankets, causing his friends to give him sympathetic smiles.

'. ‘Pretty girl <3'

The contact name?..really? 💕😂

You’re okay, Ji-Yong you didn’t do anything other than be a gentleman last night

Can I call you?..it’s hard to explain over text..

Reading the text, Ji-Yong was quick to call you first, rushing to the bathroom as he closed the door for privacy. "Ji?.." You asked softly, pulling your knees to your chest as you held your phone to your ear. "Hey, what's up" You heard his voice ask, his tone was soft, yet cautious, like he didn't want to upset you in any way. "Um...So I didn't want you...to think my mood today, was because of you, I just..-" You stopped yourself, trying to think of the best way to word it, not wanting to come off to blunt "I have a guy, who's been following me around, somehow getting into my house one time, that was scary, thankfully I wasn't home, but I got a restraining order, and uh..he finds ways around it?..and my manager called today, to let me know, that he's been spotted hanging around near the hotel" You explained, folding the small notepad paper you had on the hotel side table, up into little triangles nervously. "That..would be scary" You heard him speak after a few moments "I uh..Can I call you back?" Ji-Yong asked awkwardly, before you could respond the call ended, leaving you in silence alone. Did you oversharing scare him? Did he just, not want to have that much extra trouble in his life? As your mind ran crazy, you never noticed the knocking on your door until you heard Ji-Yong's voice.

Thinking for a moment before he called out, if that guy was at the hotel, he wasn't about to shout your name standing outside of your door, it was just unsafe, especially if the man was around. "Pretty girl!..Please open the door" He called sweetly, waiting patiently as he heard soft muffled footsteps coming closer to the door, he swayed his arms slightly as he waited. As soon as the door opened, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, seeing Ji-Yong standing there, his white robe hood hanging over his face as he rushed in, opening the sides of his robe playfully to hide you from view as he walked in, shutting the door behind him. You laughed at his attempt to hide your identity, finding it sweet as he smiled proudly, almost like his entire purpose was just to see you laugh. "Sorry for hanging up like that, I just felt like this was a conversation to have in person, plus, I missed hanging out with you, you're cool" He smiled softly, nudging your shoulder lightly as you sat back down on your bed, Ji-Yong quick to sit next to you. "You're cool too, pretty boy" You smiled shyly, watching as he covered his face, blushing brightly, you just sighed, glancing over to double check that you had locked your door back "You seem pretty freaked out by this.." Ji-Yong whispered, rubbing your back gently as he frowned, you just leaned over until your shoulder pressed against his carefully "He's scary, and thinks that we've been in love for the last few years...plus he got into my home, somewhere I thought was safest, I moved, but, if he's always watching me, then wouldn't he know that I moved?" You explained quietly, turning to meet Ji-Yong's gaze as you looked over, he was giving you a sympathetic look as his hand gently took yours "I get that, Is there anything I can do to help?" He whispered, he knew he couldn't do much, but he still wanted to offer anyways, he was shocked by your response, you wrapped your arms around him tightly "Stay? J-Just for a little bit?" You whispered nervously, pressing your face against his chest as you squeezed your eyes shut, you weren't sure why, but Ji-Yong being around you, immediately calmed your nerves and made you feel safe.

"I'd be happy to, pretty girl" He whispered softly, wrapping his arms around you gently "A-are you sure? You don't have to-" He was quick to cut you off, squeezing you softly "I am more than sure" Ji-Yong assured, rubbing your arm before sighing "So, what have you been doing this whole time?" He laughed softly, leaning back against the pillows with you, moving to get comfortable, you sighed leaning your head on his shoulder as you pulled out your phone, resting it on his chest as you unlocked it. "I watch..edits people make on social media" You smiled sheepishly, clicking onto the last video you were watching, Ji-Yong smiled, keeping his arms wrapped around you as he watched your phone. "Hey! Wait wait! That was me!" He giggled out after you quickly swiped past a video of him "Shushh! I just wanted to check out your hashtags!" You giggled, hiding your face in his robe, his hand quick to rest on your back, as he laughed with you. Ji-Yong took a moment to admire you, you looked beautiful, especially whenever you laughed, it made him feel warm inside, like he was being wrapped in a warm calming hug. "Why are you always staring? Creeper" You joked, pushing his jaw slightly to turn his head away from you "I'm just realizing your nickname fits you so well" He smiled, giggling loudly as you blushed, pulling the pillow from behind you to fully hide your face "Oh hush, before I fall for you" You laughed jokingly, trying your best to make it seem like your statement was a full joke.

"What if I want you to?" He whispered, pushing the pillow slightly to see half of your face, that was covered in a bright blush "Are you flirting with me right now?" You giggled loudly, throwing your head back, covering your face quickly with your hands, Ji-Yong just smiled, leaning to hover over you as he smiled. Moving your hands to the side slowly, your stomach did a flip as you bit your bottom lip, trying to hide your flustered giggles, Ji-Yong was hovered above you, his arm positioning himself next to your head, his necklaces hanging dangerously low, and his hair falling perfectly as he smiled at you sweetly "So what if I am? You're cute, Y/n, and I like being around you, and dancing with you" He chuckled, using his free hand to cover his face as he blushed, you just shook your head smiling, giving his chest a slight push to send him bouncing back onto the mattress. "Don't look at me like that, pretty boy" You laughed, turning to face him after a moment, his hand slowly moving to rest on yours "Or what? You'll fall in love with me?" Ji-Yong laughed playfully, laying flat on his back, using the back of his hand to dramatically cover his face, you just laughed softly, tilting your head at his actions "Maybe I will" You replied playfully, Ji-Yong smiled, feeling proud that he could lift your sprits so much, just on his own.

You'd continue laying on the bed until about midnight, whenever Ji-Yong would slowly move out of the bed, away from your sleeping frame, it killed him, but he knew he needed to get into his own bed or else he'd be exhausted tomorrow for the show. As you felt the mattress shift, you slowly turned around, tiredly opening your eyes as you noticed Ji-Yong slipping his robe back on. "I didn't mean to fall asleep, I'm sorry" You whispered, reaching your hand out, Ji-Yong smiled softly, taking your hand in his "It's okay, pretty girl, It's late anyways, I have to get myself to bed, before it's any later" He replied softly, you just pouted, laying your head gently back onto the pillows "Call me?..In the morning?" You whispered softly, feeling yourself start to doze back off, Ji-Yong just giggled at your response, finding your state absolutely adorable. "I'll do you one better, I'll order us some breakfast and come by in the morning" He offered, causing you to smile softly as you fell asleep, your hand slowly starting to slip out of Ji-Yong's. He was quick to rest your hand back on the bed gently, slipping out of your hotel room quickly, jumping whenever he was met face to face Tae-Yang.

"What have you been up to the last few hours, Ji?" He asked teasingly, playfully crossing his arms as he stared his friend down. "Nothing, quiet down, she's sleeping in there, Y/n's going through something, and she just asked me to hang out for a few hours" He explained, trying to shush his friend, not wanting to risk waking you back up whenever you looked so peaceful when he left. "You really like this girl, don't you?" He laughed softly, leading his friend back to his hotel room "She's really sweet..and she doesn't treat me like I'm famous" Ji-Yong smiled shyly, opening the door smiling at the others as he hid his face blushing "Ji! Where were you? We were starting to get worried!" Seung Hyun smiled, laughing whenever Tae-Yang pointed to your room right next door.

Ji-Yong wasn't sure exactly what made him start falling for you, anytime he'd try and trace it down to one thing, he'd always just bounce between things. Even the boys could tell, just in the few days their friend had known you, he was already enthralled with you, he was practically glued to you anytime you were out and about. Little did he know, you felt the exact same way towards him.

--

What do you think lovelies? <333 Excited to hear from you!! Make sure you stay tuned in!! Tomorrow I plan on posting another part to round and round we go and a Thanos story! 👀💕

--

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[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Nineteen

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97

I walked into the building, smiling bright as the morning sun, ready to finish this work day already. After he left last night, Bucky promised that when he would come by tonight, he would stay the night. He had planned on telling Natasha that he had to go out of town for something mob related. 

There was already a list of things I had planned; dinner at home, a movie cuddled together on my couch, and a warm bath to end the night. It was something that we had yet to do, a proper at home date. 

My body jumped with excitement every time I thought about it. 

A frown pulled at my lips when I noticed that Bucky’s door had been closed. He didn’t have any meetings planned so there was no need for it to be shut. Bucky also always took his phone calls with the door opened. 

I placed my things on my desk and softly knocked on the door, only to be met with silence. The thought of if he was coming in today or not crossed my mind so I sent him a quick text. 

Are you not coming in today? 

Some time would pass before I would even get a response. Three hours to be exact. 

By the time Bucky had decided to text back, it was nearing lunch hour and I was busying myself to run to the deli across the road to pick us all up something. Steve and Sam were playing a card game on the couch that sat across from my desk and Steve noticed the worried look on my face. 

“Everything alright?” 

By the mere tone in his voice, I could tell that the relationship we shared was not the same anymore. 

“Yeah,” I mumbled, not bothering to take my eyes away from the text on my phone. 

I’m held up in my office all day, sorry.

It was short, to the point. No sweet names or cringey emojis that Bucky had just found out of. This wasn’t like him, something being different; off. 

Steve stood to walk over to me. “Bucky?” 

I peered over his shoulder to make sure Sam wasn't paying attention and nodded. 

“Have you talked to him at all? I feel as if he’s avoiding me,” I said. 

He hesitated, unsure if he should even say anything. I could see it in the way he avoided my gaze, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

Steve was hiding something from me. 

“What do you know?” I asked. 

“I can’t be the one to tell you, Y/N. Bucky has too.” 

With a gentle squeeze on my shoulder, he went back to his previous spot on the couch. 

I gnawed on my bottom lip while gazing at the still shut door to Bucky’s office and decided to give it one more try, seeing if he would talk to me. 

“Bucky, can I come in?” I asked after my knuckles tapped against the door. 

There was quite a bit of shuffling behind it and my heart hammered when the door opened, revealing a very stressed Bucky. 

My voice lowered. “Are you okay?” 

He nodded. “I’m going to skip lunch today.”

The door shut just as fast as it opened and I was left staring at it, tears brimming in my eyes. 

“Y/N,” Steve’s soft voice called from behind me. 

I blinked a few times, tears splattering over my cheeks, and quickly grabbed my things to head to lunch.

I don’t know what I did to make you so upset with me but I don’t appreciate the cold shoulder all day. I’m about to leave for the day and you’ve barely come out of your office.

I hit send on the text while walking back to my desk from the bathroom. The day went on at a slow pace, my eyes darting from my computer to Bucky’s still shut door, not once seeing him come out of his office. That was the third text I sent him all day and with yet no response, I decided that tonight was officially off the table. He would not be rewarded with spending the night with me after ghosting me all day. 

As I returned back to my desk, I noticed that the door was wide open, and my feet practically dragged me across the threshold. Until I stopped myself when I saw that he made no effort to look away from his phone when he heard me walk up. Not even a quick glance my way. 

“Asshole,” I grumbled, plopping into my chair. 

Six minutes. That’s all I had left of my work day and I could go home to wallow in self pity in private. 

I used that time to scroll through Instagram, not having the chance to be on it all day. My thumb froze over one post, almost unsure to like it or not, because everything around me faded to black. Ears rang loudly with white noise and my heart dropped to the depths of my stomach as it shattered. The pain caused a sob to leave my lips. 

Cannot wait to meet you baby Barnes. Coming in six months. 

My vision blurred from the tears that spilled everywhere but I still could see the picture Natasha had posted announcing her pregnancy. It was a picture of a positive pregnancy test with her and Bucky’s vibranium hand holding it. 

With a broken gaze, I looked over to him and was shocked that Bucky was already watching me. His own eyes were broken, tears pooling in the corners of them. 

“I’m so sorry, doll,” he mouthed. 

No words were able to form, my mouth had run dry. I didn’t know what to say, to be honest. All I could do was gather my things and storm out of the office, the door slamming behind me shaking the walls. 

The persistent knocking on my front door was becoming too hard to ignore, it going on for the last five minutes. In tangent with my phone ringing, not stopping for a second. I did my best to tune it all out, staring off into the void of my living room wall, wishing it would stop; wishing everything would stop. 

“Doll, please open up.” 

“Go away,” I yelled, the anger suddenly bubbling to life. 

“Please let me explain!” 

I scoffed while shaking my head, even if Bucky couldn’t see. “Explain?!” 

Everything I had been avoiding came rushing to the forefront when I heard him begging me to let him in, to explain his actions. 

My feet dragged me to the door and I opened it with such force, it created a small wind tunnel. Bucky didn’t bother waiting for me to let him in, he pushed himself past me. 

“I’m so sorr-.” 

His apology was cut off by a hard slap to his face, my palm already stung with redness. 

Bucky rubbed at the raw spot where I had hit him and his jaw tensed. “You hit me.” 

“Trust me, I want to do a lot more!” I seethed. 

“Can you calm down so I can explain?” He begged. 

“Calm down?!” My voice bellowed. “You get your wife pregnant, hide it from me, then come here to explain yourself? How the fuck can I calm down?!” 

My shoulder rammed into his as I walked past him and down the hall towards my bedroom. His footsteps that echoed down the hall told me that he was following me close behind. 

“I wanted to tell you, Y/N. All day I tried to come up with the best way,” Bucky said. 

I spun on my heels and pushed him hard in his chest, my actions doing nothing to deter him. 

“Fuck you, Barnes! You’re such a liar!” 

I began beating his chest with my fist, pure hatred fueling my momentum. And he stood there, taking every hit. 

Out of breath, I let my fists fall to my side, and felt my chest rise and fall each time I swallowed a large amount of air. 

“Feel better?” Bucky asked. 

My eyes narrowed. “Go fuck yourself. I never want to see you again.” 

His shoulders dropped. “You don’t mean that.” 

I nodded, even if I didn’t believe it myself. “Get out.” 

Bucky didn’t move so I pushed him harder in his chest. “Leave. Now!” 

“Doll-.” 

I smacked him yet again, this time with so much force he stumbled back onto my bed. 

“You lost the right to call me that, Bucky! I can’t believe I fell for your lies again.” 

I ran a shaking hand through my hair. “I allowed myself to ignore the red flags because I cared that much for you. I believed that you wanted me, wanted a future with me. I bet the divorce was a lie too.” 

Bucky vigorously shook his head. “I promise you. That was all true. Matt finished the papers this afternoon.” 

“When did it happen?” I abruptly asked. 

He hesitated, unsure how to answer. “A few months ago. It was the night I drove you home from work and we had sex in the back seat.” 

If my heart wasn’t in a million pieces before, it for sure was now. 

“You’re such a dick!” I screamed while pushing him down on my bed. “I knew you were still screwing her.” 

Bucky leaned his elbows onto his knees and held his head in his hands. “You don’t understand how terrible I feel, Y/N. I wish I could take it back.” 

I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand. “Are you still leaving her?” 

He gazed up at me, lips parting and eyes welling with tears. “I can’t. She’s having my child.” 

My eyes shut, his words giving me exactly what I needed to end this. 

I pointed towards the door. “We’re finished, Bucky. You need to leave.” 

He was fast on his feet to reach for me. “No, this doesn’t have to end.” 

“Yes it does!” I wailed. “It’s one thing to break up a marriage but I refuse to break up a family.” 

Both of us were crying, not bothering to stop or hide the tears, and Bucky wanted to reach for me, fight for me, but knew that there was no changing my mind. 

“What about work?” He asked with a glimmer of hope. 

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. “I can’t afford to quit. So I’ll see you next week. I need to take some time off.” 

Bucky nodded. “I didn’t want to hurt you, doll.” 

I grabbed my elbows, bringing my arms closer to my chest and avoiding his gaze, keeping my eyes trained to my feet. The only thing I could hear over his footsteps walking away from me was my broken cries, my body collapsing to the ground. 

[bberryuniverse]

More than enough || yh x reader

✧ mobster!yunho x afab!reader

✧ genre: gang!au, angst, fluff (a tiny spoon at the end, I promise)

✧ word count: 2.9k

✧ warning content: graphic violence, mentions/description of death, slaughter and injuries, cursing, guns, verbal harassment

✧ a/n: I don’t support nor romanticize criminal actions, much less believe that any member of ateez would be part of something like that. The following story has the sole purpose of being a fictional work and that’s all.

You sat on the couch after walking around your apartment for the seventh time in a row, trying to get your attention away from the almost imperceptible sound of the clock ticking on the wall. It’s 3am, It has been 12 hours since Yunho has gone to work, and he didn’t even bothered to sent you a single message reassuring he was ok. His Thursday’s schedule did not include night shifts, you checked out ten times carefully, but there was nothing written about it.

It’s not like he ever sent you anything during his hospital shifts, you didn’t expected much, working at the ER must be exhausting, but a single “hi” or “I’ll be back in 4 hours” would be enough.

But no.

He had to keep you awake all night, waiting anxiously to hear the door opening, to reveal his tiring eyes and wrinkled clothes, ready to give you the warmest hug. Today, you had no idea what time he would get home, again. There’s been 2 weeks since this irregularity on his schedule has started, and it was giving you the nerves. Adding to that, every time you questioned him about it the other day, he would say the same old thing:

“Nothing much, I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, just dumbhead coworkers.”

Yunho would always find a new way to change the subject, like you weren’t aware or even noticed it him doing so. But the last thing you’re looking for is an argument, even though this whole situation’s been upsetting, you just leave it behind.

Besides that, you couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend, Yunho was everything and so much more.

At first, you thought it wouldn’t last long, your first date was quiet, almost unsettling, as he wouldn’t say or do much more than stare directly at your eyes, and comment vaguely about the topics you brought. It took a while before he finally started to get used with your presence, six dates to be exact.

Honestly, it felt like a little puppy getting to know its environment before becoming an energetic and clingy beast. You’d never guess that the 6ft tall cold guy would be the type of boyfriend to take you on late night walks to get vanilla ice cream at the convenience store and chatter about your day, or teach you calmly how to play his favorite games so you could play with him (even though you suck at it), and even grab you by the hand to slow dance at the living room after a delightful dinner. Every time you two were together, Yunho acted like he wasn’t aware of the “personal space” concept at all, and you were fine with that.

He was your safe place, why would you like to stay away from him without any news for so long? His work shifts were confusing, but he’s not the one to blame.

As you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier, you checked your phone once again, still hoping for any signs of Yunho. But again, none. You huffed and laid down your head on the couch, pressing your temples, exhausted.

Fuck it - you mumbled, just giving it up, throwing your phone in the pillow next to you.

And once again, the sound of the clock ticking was banging on your head annoyingly, and you tried to relax as your eyes slowly started to close.

But you just didn’t expected a second presence on the living room to be watching you from behind, just waiting for the best timing since he broke into your apartment two minutes ago.

By the time you were about to fall asleep, a sudden hand grabbed around your neck tightly enough to take you gasp for air, and as your scream was about to leave your throat, a big hand covered your mouth faster.

It’s a pleasure to finally get to meet you, doll - you heard a deep and raspy voice whispering next to your ear, making you start to panic and struggle around his hand, trying to release yourself from that tight grip with all your energy - What’s the matter? I just wanna talk…- he laughed

Desperately, you reached out for your phone, but not fast enough to go unnoticed by the older man.

I wouldn’t do that If I were you - his hand tightened harshly around your neck, making you release a muffled scream and dig your nails on his hand.

He pulled you out of the couch and gave a sudden kick behind your knees, leading you to the ground violently, as he pressed his own body against yours to stabilize you and grab both wrists of yours. As a thick layer of tape wraps around it, you tried taking advantage of the time he took his hand out of your mouth, and released a loud scream.

You just don’t give up, do you? Such a dumb fucking bitch - he gritted his teeth, pulling you up by the arm and throwing you on the couch.

Please… - you felt a knot forming on your throat and your eyes starting to get blurry with the amount of tears forming there - I-I don’t have anything to offer…

The words escaped from your mouth as he took his hand to his pocket, pulling a whole gun and pointing it to your face, leaving you speechless.

Where’s Yunho? - he spits out calmly.

W-What? - you frowned, flinching as the man approaches, seeming more pissed than before

Don’t act stupid. Where. Is. Yunho? - he repeats himself, kneeling in front of you before lifting your chin with the gun.

You couldn’t think straight, your heart was quickly bumping into your chest as your whole body was a trembling mess. Even if you were trying to form sentences, the only sounds that came from your mouth were sobs. Mere seconds passed and you weren’t capable to say a thing, only stressing the unknown man in front of you more.

Then, a burning sensation appeared at your cheek as he let a strong slap at it, making you finally burst into tears.

I don’t know! Please, I don’t know a thing, he’s just a way too busy doctor, he didn’t even came home yet - you shouted desperately between sobs and tears - Just let me go, please

Suddenly, the man’s expression seemed to change too quickly, and the sadistic smile appearing on his face just made you feel more tense.

A doctor, huh? Well, let’s wait for him together, then, shall we? - he walked away from you, took the tape roll again and grabbed a good amount of it, coming straight to you again.

You panicked and started to mumble no uncountable times, trying to move away from his grip and kicking your feet directly at him. Yet again, your efforts were useless, as he taped your mouth shut quite easily thanks to his strong arms and big proportions.

Now, be a good doll, alright? - he finished, dragging you by the hair once again to the cold floor.

As you started to struggle and let out muffled cries, a sudden sound of a gun being loaded got your attention.

There he was, Yunho, your warmhearted boyfriend holding a pistol straight to the man’s head.

You went pale, and a buzzing noise echoed on your head. He seemed nothing like the man who kissed your whole face before going to work hours ago. His eyes were darkened, and his face held a complete emotionless expression, almost resembling the Yunho you went on a date with for the first time, but worse.

You see, doll? Doctor Yunho arrived in no time - the old man said with a sarcastic tone, forcing you to stand up with your shaky legs, almost falling down due to the clear difficulty you were facing to keep a decent posture in this situation. Once Yunho gave a single aggressive step forwards you, the man gave a step back immediately - Not even a single inch closer, kid.

You felt the cold metal of the gun pressing against your forehead, but there was no signal of reaction coming from you. Your body was still, your lungs were expanding harshly and you felt like you could throw up your own heart in any moment, but not even a single flinch was noticed.

Let her go. - Yunho said in a monotone tone, looking straight at the man’s eyes - She has nothing to do with this.

Of course not - he laughed - You didn’t even bother to tell your own whore about your dirty little secret, I mean, she really has nothing to do with this, but wouldn’t it be so lame to waste such a fun situation? - the old man paused, licking his lips as he switched his eyes between you and your boyfriend - Now tell her, you coward, tell her how your fucking gang slaughtered a whole convention days ago.

Accidentally, you sobbed too loud, catching your boyfriend’s attention. As your eyes met, you could clearly see an apologetic face forming for mere seconds before he turned back his attention to the man, as if he stayed staring at you for too long, he’d cry out of frustration.

You are such a liar, Jeong Yunho - he continued, now taking his free hand to your neck - You really thought your princess would never find out and your lies would protect her forever? Come on, don’t be such a fool…

I won’t ask twice - Yunho ignored all the discourse, gritting his teeth before opening a strange smile - I don’t have a thing to deal with you anymore, what’s done is done, or do you really think coming after me will make all your stupidass friends come back to life?

A dry laugh came out of Yunho’s mouth, simultaneously, you felt the grip around your neck getting much tighter that made you gasp for air automatically. As you thought it couldn’t get worse, the sound of the gun getting loaded next to your face made you more desperate than before.

How about I just pull the trigger and explode your brain out right in front of your lovely prince, huh? - he cooed close to your ear, laughing at your attempts to free yourself from his grip, only giving him more energy to choke you even more.

From that moment on, you couldn’t think straight anymore, your whole body was getting more numb and lighter, and your eyes started to feel heavier, your gasps for air were useless. The alternative to let tiredness win over you was the only thing that was banging on your mind, your options were limited.

Please - you heard Yunho spat, sounding like that wasn’t supposed to come out - Let her go.

He couldn’t bear watching you go pale and weaker right in front of him anymore, being unable to move any muscles to get you out of this situation was killing him from the inside. The huge guilt growing on him was agonizing, and the possibility of something bad happening to you due to his own mistakes gave him the urge to act impulsively.

Oh? Now we are going to beg? Okay, let’s do that - the man laughed briefly - Put the gun on the ground.

And just like he was demanded, he dropped the weapon on the floor without hesitation, then leading his hand above his head, keeping the cold stare on his face.

Just when you thought you’d go unconscious, the tightness around your neck was over abruptly, leaving your weak body without any support. Pathetically, you fell to the floor on your knees, bursting into tears of relief and pain as you breathed heavily looking for air.

On your knees - the man passed by you and got right in front of Yunho, yet still pointing the gun at you.

Your boyfriend looked at you once more before taking a deep breath, doing just like he was forced to. Slowly, the man changed the direction of his target to Yunho, which cause you to let out a muffled No as you shook your head nonstop.

Isn’t it lovely? A beautiful couple sacrificed right in front of each other because of some failing overprotection? - the standing man giggles excitedly - Which one should be the first? Oh, perhaps, I can take the whore with me right after blowing your head, I mean, it would be such a waste to get rid of a woman like her, right?

He kicked the gun that was close to your boyfriend away, kneeling down at the same height of Yunho as he laughed at him.

What do you think? Is she a nice fuck doll? - the last sentence that came out of the older man made Yunho’s blood boil instantly, but his only reaction was an incomprehensible mumble, as he closed his eyes - Come again?

After that, everything just happened too fast, fast enough to vanish all your pain away and get you paralyzed in pure terror.

You saw red gushing out of the man’s throat as Yunho sticks deeply a dagger directly at his jugular, pushing it out right after. The sound of the man chocking on his own blood, your boyfriend pushing him to the floor and giving uncountable stabs on its throat and consequently getting half of his body covered in blood got you in a state of shock.

Yunho violently killed the man with no remorse or difficulty on sight right in front of you. Your heartwarming lover you once believed being just a workaholic and tired doctor took someone’s life with his bare hands on purpose.

You didn’t realize his proximity to you until he wrapped his arms around you warmly and tight on a desperate hug.

I came as soon as I knew he had my address, I should’ve known this shit would happen sooner or later - Yunho said rapidly with a worried tone, letting go of the hug and carefully taking the tape from your mouth - I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, my dear.

He went behind you, took out that thick layer of tape from your now hurting wrists, and cupped your face with both of his hands once he got in front of you again. The smell of fresh blood coming from his red stained hands made you sick, making him take it away as soon as he noticed.

Come on, there’s people waiting for us outside, take a rest and I’ll tell you everything once you wake up…- he helped you slowly stand on your feet.

And that was it. You couldn’t take it anymore.

Do you think I’m some kind of stupid joke to you?!! - you shouted at him, feeling a huge urge to start crying one more time as your voice got shaky. He got taken aback with your reaction, but as much as he wanted to make any excuses, nothing was acceptable enough to justify the lie he’d been keeping up for months.

He fucked up, really really fucked up this time, and then dragged you into some kind of situation that definitely wouldn’t get out of your mind for the time being.

You’re such a liar, covering up your problems and making cheap excuses does not solve anything, Yunho! - you kept spitting out everything that’s been accumulating on your throat for the past days - Now I don’t have any clue if I really know my own boyfriend…

You know me - he interrupted you pulling you closer by your shoulders, staring directly at your eyes with a confused look - I’ve never opened up so much like this before with anybody else, you probably know me more than my own self, darling. Now, please, let me take you somewhere safer, we can’t stay here

Yunho lowered his voice in the last sentence, you clearly saw pain through his words and eyes as he frowned.

Even though you didn’t wanted to believe a single thing he said to you, his eyes made you even more confused, clearly seeing honesty on them. Yunho got an impressive ability to switch between that emotionless and terrifying look, and the one and only “I’m just your Golden Retriever boyfriend” look he was giving you intensively. You’d get more and more tired by the twists and turns going around your thoughts each time you forced yourself to think about everything that happened in less than an hour, only increasing your desire to collapse on the ground, and then shout until your vocal cords disintegrate it completely.

For the first time, you actually felt like I’d be more appropriate if you could get some rest before having another gigantic wave of information crashing into your chest again. You just needed your boyfriend at the moment, and nothing more than that. It would be a huge lie if you said that you didn’t wanted to jump right into his arms looking for protection since he made himself present on the past suffocating scene.

As you finally give in, throwing yourself into his arms, he immediately picked you up, firmly holding your exhausted body next to his.

If you end up doing something like this to me ever again, I swear…- you whispered as your eyes closed, letting all the tense muscles relax at last.

I’ll keep you safe, I promise you, sweetheart - Yunho pressed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, opening a weak smile as you let a soft whimper - As long as I’m breathing, nothing bad will ever happen to you again.

For now, his presence would be more than enough for you, whoever he'd be in the end, a doctor, a gangster, or whatever, his love and care for you was capable of supplying all your needs.

[newkatzkafe2023]

So, How would the Wukong's react to S/O doing something kinda big for them. Like, they've been gone all day and come home to their partner making a dinner date and making sure everything's set up for them to relax together?

Awwww Date night🌹🥂💋💒

(Lmk Wukong) Oh he missed you terribly, you told him you were leaving early for work and that you would be late. Wukong was cool with it but hours and hours and hours later he saw it was it was getting late and he started to miss you, occasionally leaving texts you told him the same thing until you told him to meet him at the park. Wukong was very confused and soon he flew to the park and saw that....

A picnic😮!! Wukong gasped as you said surprise. He teared up and blushed and ran to hug you, he said thank you and he loves you as he sat with you on your date.

(MKR Wukong) He's in one of his moods, he woke up and saw that you weren't next to him. That already pissed him off because you didn't even leave a note. He of course ask if the pilgrims the saw you and they said no, pigsy teasing that maybe we got Tired of him which in return , he got a bruise shin. Luckily Fruity told him that we just went out and that will be back later, Which successfully calm him down. After a while you came back and he was ready to Interrogate you, when you told him that you had a surprise for him. Wukong was confused when he followed you later that night and saw a....

tea shop with a table outside, you told him that it was something nice to do since he's been moody and stress lately. He did look grumpy but the blush tells you he likes it😉😊

(HIB Wukong) You were gone the whole day, and ask Luier and Pigsy to distract Wukong which you went out with Silly girl. It worked for a bit since Luier's motor mouth was useful for once, but he was quick to notice that you weren't there and neither was silly girl. He would have freaked out, if you came back with Silly girl that Exact Second. He was relieved until you put a blindfold on him and told him that you were going somewhere, which confused him and felt you pulling him along. Then after a bit you told him to take of his blindfold and saw....

Fireworks?! you took him to see fireworks, a surprise date, for just the 2 of you. Wukong was stunned, but he pulled you close as a silent thank you.

(NR Wukong) He's pouting all over the garage. You had left for work in the morning which is ok whatever to him but it's around 5 and your still not home. He called and texted you a few times but he only got Voice-mail or has been left on read, now he rarely gets upset with you but it's slowly getting there until you ran in the garage excited. Wukong was Confused, relieved, but still a bit upset with you until you told him...

(You) WUKONG I GOT THE TICKETS!!!!🤩🤩🤩🤩

(Wukong) Tickets??? Tickets for what???🤨

You pulled out the tickets for...

(You) THE DEMOLITION DERBY BABY!!!!!!! PREPARE TO SPEND THE WEEKEND WATCHING CARS EXPLODE!!!!!!!!! I GOT FRONT ROW SEATS TOO!!!!!!!🤩🥳🤯

Wukong felt his anger disappear into thin air, And replace with excitement,Well that explains Why you did so much overtime for your job😊😊😊😊

(Netflix Wukong) He noticed something was missing, Something that's always supposed to be there. Or more like it became part of his life, and because of this feeling Wukong felt empty. He then went to tell Lin about this emotion and emptiness until she asked

(Lin) Did you see (Y/N) yet????

Then it hit him He didn't know if he talked to you at all today, he didn't even remember seeing you and you guys live in the same house. Wukong thanked Lin and went to look for you but he couldn't find you anywhere. He then slowly begin to panic as he had no idea where you are, he freaked out and teared up his thoughts being. Why didn't I pay attention?! What if she's hurt?! What if she got kidnapped?! What if she got sick of me and....abandoned me??😥🥺😭 Wukong Try to remain rational while stopping himself from crying. Then he noticed something on the cabinet, he ask ran and ask Lin to read it for him and it saids,

Wukong meet me by the market at 3 I have a surprise for you🙂

It was currently around 2:45 or something But he was too anxious to wait. So he left the house and went looking for you, he got to the market and saw you, and is that a CARNIVAL?!🎡

You greeted him and told him that a fair was In town and you wanted to spend the day with him in it. Wukong ran over and quickly hugged you tightly, happy to see you, feeling his heart slow down a bit Upon being in your presence. After that you both went in to have a blast😄🎊🎉

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG💋

[rhiaarrow]

Todays 5am rambling;

There is a difference between 'qBad' and 'Tio Bad' because Tio Bad instincts are just absolutely INGRAINED in ccBads brain and is just entirely separate from his actual qCharacter

Honestly. Half of the stuff he does he does out of instinct, not rp at this point.

And I'm 5am rambling about this just because it's become really really obvious to me these past couple days because Bad will be in rp with the eggs where he's not supposed to recognize them or know them but then he'll do or say little things that just doesn't quite fit with that and it's just so adorable because it's so obvious that he's just so used to hanging with the egg actors that some things are just natural at this point.

The most obvious is the iconic gasp whenever there's an egg downed message, of course.

(I still remain surprised that he managed to act completely nonchalant when Richas got knocked the other day, +1000 rp points there Brad)

That is a bodily response at this point, there is no character rp in that gasp of anxiety.

But there are just little things that slip through even when he is in full rp mode.

When Tallulah first saw him again he acted as qBad would but when Tallulah started to get genuinely upset Bad's voice changed to the voice he uses when talking through hard topics with eggs and he reassured her in a way that he didn't take the time to do with any of the other eggs and honestly it must've broken ccBad to not be able to comfort an egg that he's been a source of comfort for for almost a year.

Or when he went to ask Leo if she wanted to go mining. He'd previously been loud and confused with Leo and Foolish but when he went to speak to Leo alone he crouched in front of her and spoke clearly as he asked her and waited for her response, copying her when she jumped or crouched excitedly.

He learnt early on (back when the translations were still buggy as all hell) that sometimes when babysitting Leo in particular he had to make sure to speak clearly so that nothing got lost in translation because if you watch early vods there are times where Leo just does not understand what Bad is saying (and if you look at the transcription box it's often pretty damn easy to understand why she's confused because some of the stuff the early transcripts pick up are frankly hilariously far off from what was said).

Overtime he adapted, speaking clearer and reducing his use of complex vernacular or occasionally repeating phrases but changing them slightly to make the translations as understandable as possible and he still does that whenever he's talking directly with Leo, and now Pepito too.

The one that hurt and was the point that made me start writing this whole rambling was the way that Bad IMMEDIATELY snapped back into Tio mode as soon as he saw Pepito at spawn (even if from a pure rp standpoint it made not a lot of sense).

He was crouching in front of him, back to calling him little one, referring to all the eggs as 'kids' again, reassuring Pepito that he'd go pick up his dad and bring him to Pepito but only if he could make sure that Pepito was safe at his house first, trying to immediately get him out of the open and to set a pearl, telling him it wasn't his fault and that he doesn't need to apologise, that it's okay to be sad about his death but they need to get him somewhere safe first.

It broke me because this was just an exact echo of how he's had to act with every other egg after their deaths when he discusses the deep topics with them. He is too used to comforting eggs about these sorts of things and hearing him give the same reassurances killed me because Pepito is just a baby, he shouldn't have to have Tio Bad give him the after-death talk already.

(I feel like I keep giving Ted Talks atp with the length of my posts but ahhhhhhh neurospicy brainrot is just all consuming sometimes y'know? 🙃)

[actual-changeling]

No Nightingales

or: the one time they are actually on the same page

Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner—we once again find ourselves in the final fifteen because I am far from done with them.

I already dove deep into the potential meaning of that phrase, you can find the meta post here, but regardless of what it stands for, the important part of today's post is their mutual recognition of it.

During their entire argument, they are on two different levels of understanding, and while Crowley is somewhat aware of that, Aziraphale very much isn't. But then, right at the end, Crowley invokes the nightingales, and suddenly they find themselves on the same plane of communication.

Let's start from the beginning. Well, not the beginning beginning, but rather the beginning of the end of their conversation.

Aziraphale is visibly upset, there's a strong undercurrent of genuine anger within the hurt, and he reverts back to an almost petulant expression when he tells Crowley "there's nothing more to say".

The movement he is doing with his mouth—maybe biting his cheeks from the looks of it—is the same one as at the end of their very first argument of the season. In the back of the bookshop with Jimbriel being the centre of their discussion, he eventually tells Crowley "but if you won't, you won't". When he sits down and throws his little temper tantrum, it's the same expression of 'I am kicking you out, go leave'.

In episode 1, Crowley does indeed leave, although we all know he comes back later that evening, but not this time. He knows Aziraphale, he knows exactly why he is doing what he is doing, why he is saying what he is saying, and while it broke his heart, it also means he is out of patience and energy.

For six thousand years, he has been trying to get Aziraphale to understand—and he simply refused to do the work necessary for that, preferring to stay in his cognitive dissonance framework of the world.

They are as done as they can be in that moment, and yet Crowley stays and tries one more thing: No nightingales.

"Listen, do you hear that?" is not a question Aziraphale expected, which is quite obvious in his annoyed reaction.

(side note: If someone I love were to talk to me the way Aziraphale responds to Crowley here I'd slap them and walk out. The absolute disrespect in his tone is appalling and Crowley deserves a reward for putting up with it.)

"I don't hear anything," and he isn't getting it just yet, still angry and petulant, still upset.

But then that changes. "That's the point. No nightingales," and Crowley is looking at him like it means something, begging him to listen, to understand—and Aziraphale DOES.

Look at the change in his expression, all that angry annoyance is gone and replaced by a sad dawning of understanding. If you compare this expression with his earlier one, the shift is as obvious as a blinking neon sign on a dark road.

Whatever the exact meaning of 'no nightingales' is, it is unambiguous and a fundamental part of how they communicate about their relationship with each other. Aziraphale has his oh moment, he is forced to confront the entire argument they just had and what it lead them to, what it destroyed.

That is what Crowley tells him, what hits Aziraphale hard enough to completely push him off-balance, to make him sad and visibly hurt instead of angry and upset. Michael 'microexpressions' Sheen strikes again.

Focus on the look in his eyes, the small, almost imperceptible shift, the shame that appears, and the tears it brings. He averts his gaze at first and then raises it back to Crowley because he understands now, he finally realised what Crowley has been trying to tell him the entire time.

No nightingales. It means we're done, we're over. It means I cannot come with you, I have to leave and safe myself. It means I love you, I know you love me, but it isn't enough.

It means we could have been us—but not anymore. Crowley sees him understand, and THAT is why he calls him an idiot; it's not about him returning to heaven or any of the other shit he said. It is about Aziraphale not listening to Crowley, of being so caught up in his bullshit he did not understand the simple message he was being told.

"You idiot. We could have been us."

I love you I love you I love you but now we are ruined and I blame you. If you had listened we could have been happy together, but look at where we ended up instead.

Aziraphale is still staring at him, but once those words leave Crowley's mouth, the tears begin to rise. Lips pressed together to keep himself from crying, the little wobble disturbing them, the pure, distilled pain etching itself into his face.

Shame. Guilt. Anger. Blaming Crowley, blaming himself. Aziraphale is confused, forced to make decisions without getting the space to breathe, to think, and he fell back into the easiest option—be a good angel and do what heaven says.

A part of him KNOWS all of that. It knows what he just did, what he ruined, how much they ended up hurting each other. So the tears come, and when he can no longer keep himself from crying, he turns away.

Crowley understandably combusts at that because really? Really? You dare to turn away from me after all this? I ripped myself open in front of you, and when I FINALLY manage to make you understand you turn your back on me?

He is desperate and hurt, heartbroken beyond repair, and there are six millennia of hopeless love spilling over—so he kisses him.

Hear me, listen to me, understand, I love you I love you I love you, I am losing you, I don't want to lose you, we're done. I know this won't change anything. I know what you will tell me, but I need to try. I need to make sure you know how much I love you.

I need you to understand what you are leaving behind.

There is no secret conversation happening, there's no trick, otherwise this moment of realisation would not exist.

But it does. It is right there for everyone to see.

After everything, this was probably the most painful moment for me, because you see him get it. You see him process, you see him understand, you can practically taste the chaos unfolding in his mind.

Aziraphale understands, but it is too late, and so he finishes what he started and leaves anyway.

[glade-constellation]

Man, I really feel like today’s LAES episode was an agreement to my character analysis post (not literally but all my points were there). Everything Earth talked about and explained was my exact feelings on the matter. Sun is in immense grief. Moon was doing nothing. Lunar is doing worse than nothing. Solar is the only other competent one in the situation, and he’s also probably feeling like shit.

It’s so upsetting when Earth is hurt because people never ask her if she’s okay unless she brings it up. Solar was the only one to ask so far. He only left her when she told him she would talk with Monty about it, and expressed she would feel guilt about putting her problems on him when he is going through his own. She is always placed on the back burner and is rarely ever comforted outside of when she asks for it.

I almost feel bad for saying she was going to be the best off in this situation because she very much isn’t. She is grieving too, but she’s having to pick up where Moon and Lunar are slacking off and doesn’t have time to process her feelings herself. She expressed several times how upsetting it was that she has barely any help taking care of Dazzle on top of her own work. She’s also had to pick up their slack at the Daycare, since Sun can’t come in and Lunar isn’t actually the best at his job by himself. She needs someone to help her right now, and I’m so glad Monty was able to step in and help. It made my opinion his reaction to all this change very quickly.

Her feelings on the matter are also just heartbreaking. She cares so much for Nexus, and any time she tried to express it Lunar would brush it off. Tell her that he didn’t care about Nexus. That, in a way, probably felt like he was telling Earth “I don’t care about your problems because they don’t interest me”. Stuff like that alongside his already spiraling relationship with her is causing a riff she doesn’t need right now. It’s something she simply can’t deal with on top of literally everything else.

Since this episode was set before Moon started helping, I am glad that Moon finally did help. But Lunar is still dragging his feet on this whole thing. “He wasn’t my brother, I was never close to him, I genuinely don’t care”. Then he’s all surprised when Sun was genuinely upset over Nexus’ death. Like he’s projecting his feeling onto everyone else. He didn’t care, so why does Sun? Every episode I watch leads me to believe more and more that Lunar’s entire sense of being is being changed by this Star power. Even if he is an animatronic, he still used to act very human. After the Astrals entered the picture though, he has slowly began to act more like them. Hearing that Earth feels the same way really validated my feelings on this. Literally used the word apathetic, like I did in my earlier character analysis post.

All in all, I am desperately waiting for Earth to get the help and time she needs. Because I do not want to watch her try and bottle this all up. I am so very thankful that Monty is willing to help her and that she has an outlet. If Monty wasn’t there, I think Earth might have eventually snapped. I don’t think that outcome would have been pretty, especially between herself and Lunar.

[thefirstknife]

did i miss something today re: the resolution of *why* saint thought he was a copy/the wrong saint, besides being told so? and the one memory of his that is incongruous with osiris's recollection? that haunts me still

I'm also not entirely sure. I think he was just being told so, possibly also shown (while he was yoked). Maya is absolutely using the Vex network and the Vex themselves to scour the timelines. Here's some lines post-story that I keep having to pillage of my friends because I'm not getting them:

Ikora:

Osiris:

Ikora:

Osiris:

Ikora:

Osiris:

I don't think it's stated in exact words, but Saint was definitely getting some information from other Saints that exist across the timelines, including his own dead body. And I think it's deliberately being kept this way because at the end they went for "it doesn't matter." Saint makes that conclusion himself; all Saints are Saint, they are all real.

This whole thing with the radiolaria is very interesting because I've had some similar lines last week from Osiris talking about how radiolaria is used to simulate and how the Vex need a lot of it to actually do it. It's also interesting to see that Osiris mentioned the Sundial again, in a way that makes me feel like he did not use radiolaria the same way to access other timelines. He says that he instead did it at his personal risk, but that radiolaria would reduce it. Intriguing.

Also interesting lines:

Saint:

Osiris:

Saint:

Osiris:

There's definitely extra memories, but not all of them are diverging, as we know from the week 1 radio. Only some appeared to be different, and only after the yoke, so I don't think it's quite clear how this diverging happened and how Saint became so upset over it; I believe that the yoke automatically gave him these glimpses into his other selves and they essentially scrambled his brain. Maya has control over radiolaria and the timelines in the network so she could've shown him whatever she wanted.

And now he realised that it doesn't really matter and he gets to have double memories of being with Osiris. I think it's deliberate that it's not directly stated or distinguished which Saint is the "original" or "real" because the point is that they all are.

That's at least what makes the most sense to me! There could be other ways of looking at it, but I don't think they would've otherwise given us two very distinct and important points with the radio messages like they did. It remains very clear that when the story started, Saint and Osiris had matching memories and after the yoke Saint suddenly started panicking and remembering things differently. I think Maya exposed him to other timelines and that screwed it all up, making him unsure which of those are the ones that were tied to him as he is here, and which ones were pulled from some other timeline.

Either way, the point is that it doesn't really matter too much. Every Saint is a real Saint. I'll drop a few more lines that I got yesterday which are really good:

[pumpkinsy0]

could really use some darry and pony being happy happy brothers hcs!! darry comforting pony <33 slice of life between the two <333 just bein' there and alive

IM SORRY I GOT TO THIS LATE I WAS BUSY TODAY WHOOPS

•darrys totally that guy that asks pony what hes watching, get too absorbed in it, and end up staying there for longer than intended, pony asksing if he wants to watch w him takes some convincing

•the breakfast darry makes is mostly for pony, like ofc he cooks for the whole gang if they want some but its mainly food pony likes and food that darry says helps him wake up more, he doesnt like pony having chocolate cake allllll the time for breakfast

•when pony was younger he was reaaalllyyyy scared of getting jumped and darry would always comfort him about it, show him his muscles and show him there was nothing to b afraid of, even showed his muscles to make sure pony rlly knew nobody would mess w him

•no matter how old pony gets, darry is nevveeerrrr taking off ponys accomplishments off that fridge, it just stays there foreverrrrr n evveerrrrr

•in ponys opinion??? its darry who has the toughest hair right after him and soda, he likes to think that having cool hair is just in their genes or somethin

•they have veerrrryyyyy veerrrryyyyy small prank wars, their fav one is to just poke the other when they least expect it, on the side so they jump a lil, seeing darry yelp is very funny to pony, he regrets nothing

•when pony was too young to rlly know how to write, darry was the one who wrote his letter to santa claus for him so he didn’t feel left out, soda DID also write em, but his handwriting was NOT at the best

•when pony was in trouble he would always say he was gonna run away, farthest he ever got was a few yards from the front door and he stayed there for a hood long while before darry just carried him inside bc he looked tired, pony had the best naps those times, he can’t even lie

•darry would ask pony to do something for him and pony just says no, yknow what he would b doing in the next few minutes??? the exact thing darry asked him to do for him

•i promise u if pony went to school the same time darry did pony woulda got more cool points cause darry would make sure everyone knew, like everyone KNOWS they’re related, but that’s different from actually seeing this football star interacting w his lowkey kind of a loser youngest brother, but it’s ok, pony kinda had soda

•ONE TIME, darry ➡️ACCIDENTALLY⬅️ gave pony a black eye and he will NEVER let darry live that down, he tackled the shit outta pony, pony was so winded he thought he was gonna die, and that’s y chances r, ur always gonna have darry on pony’s team just so he doesn’t hurt the guy

•darrys said that pony would do WONDERS as a chimney sweeper during the industrial revolution and pony’s never been the same since, what in the world does he mean by that

•yknow that one pic of arnold schwarzenegger and his classmate who r both 18 but arnold is just buff as shit??? pony and darry totally have a pic like that somewhere in darrys wallet bc he thinks its funny

•pony kinda DOES hate when darry picks him up bc it makes him feel small, but he hates it even more bc it makes him feel safe, he wants to b tuff damn it but darry is very warm and he can only fight against it for so lone, darry knows lmao

•pony tried calling darry “dj” bc like his full name is darrel curtis jr, and as sooooonnnn as it left ponys lips they both cringed and pony stopped then and there

•when they all went hunting, darry was the only one who would actually KILL anything, he knew it kinda upset pony so they just dont even go no more, hell he kinda feels bad for it still