#i wish they’d do one day from every tour once in a while

[napoftustar]

i think i don’t wanna die before i “𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮기다려져, 내일이란 기적이𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮 자, 모아들 “둘 셋” 하면 “투모로우바이투게더 내일도 함께하자ㅏㅏ” 하는거요~ 좋아요? 좋아요~ 갈께요 갈께요~ 여러분 준비됐어~? 갑니다~~~; 투모로우바이투게더! 내일도! 함께하자ㅏㅏ!!!! 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮오늘도, 내일도 함게하자던 말 외칠래 마주 보고 말이야!! i feel like, oh, wow, 고마워 난... 기다려져, 함께하는 기적이𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮”

[danikamariewrites]

First off, I always love reading your work. Makes me smile when I’m going through it 🫶🏻

Could you do rhys x reader or maybe a batboys head canon for how they’d take care of you while life seems to be out to get you? Like every time you think your problems are solved, something blows up in your face? Maybe like something breaks in your flat, and then something crazy happens at work, and then like you get sick or something and reader is just super down and rhys/batboys are trying to bring her back up? Taking care of her and stuff?

Sorry if this is too confusing or similar to anything you’ve had before, my brain is a little short-circuited tonight lol and I’ve been kinda going through it so I can’t think straight

Dry Your Tears

Bat boys x reader

A/n: I dream of the three of them taking care of me. Also I’m sorry babe, I’m also going through it so we’re together on this

Warnings: Tamlin being mean to reader, anxiety, and fluff

Your luck for charming High Lords and their advisors has finally run out

You were on a roll on your little tour of Day, Winter, and Summer

But coming home from other courts empty handed sucked

Especially when it was the spring court

With Tamlin finally back in power with a group of advisors and his court put together he’s been full of himself acting all high and mighty

Yesterday was your first time there since the court was put together

Of course it was all males who didn’t respect you one bit and Tamlin was no help either

The spring high lord was very condescending and it brought out your insecurities about your place in the court

Tamlin also targeted your relationship with the boys, pointing out other flaws there

You slept in your own bed once you arrived at the town house since you left Spring so late

As you fell into a fitful sleep you dreaded the paper work you had to do in the morning

The next morning you found a note on the kitchen table from Rhys that read, Sorry we missed you darling. Emergency in Windhaven. We’ll be back tomorrow morning. We love you very much

You frown at the note but smile at the little heart drawn at the end

After breakfast you set out to do paperwork with infrequent visits from Amren about updates on court matters

Getting to the Spring Court report drained you

Just thinking about it makes your skin itch

You get up deciding to take a walk to clear your head

The walk didn’t help. It simply made things worse

There was too much around the town house that didn’t feel right to you. Like you needed to reorganize

But now you wanted new furniture and things bc the throw pillows didn’t look right and the couch looked too old

To distract from that you went into the kitchen to find a snack only to realize none of the boys went grocery shopping (who are you kidding it’s Nuala and Cerridwen that do it)

You slammed the cabinet shut

With the slam of the cabinet a cough crept up your throat

It was dry and you felt like you couldn’t breathe

You shouldn’t have traveled to Winter then Spring

Ignoring what the cough meant you remembered your report for Rhys and stomped back to your office

The report took way longer than you would’ve liked

Thinking about Tamlin and his comments about your relationship made you blood boil

As your anger washed away it turned into anxiety and sadness and doubt

Are you capable of this job if these males get to you so easily? Is your relationship and mating bond with the boys going to last?

You needed to shake this off. You closed your side of the bond as to not worry your mates. They don’t need to worry about you right now

You kept stewing in your anxiety and anger for the rest of the day

Amren left at 5 so you had dinner alone with what was left in the house. You’d go shopping tomorrow when your head was clear and you weren’t pissed at the fact that the boys forgot

Sleep evaded you that night as you wished your boys were here to hold you and whisper sweet nothings to you

Your cough kept you up all night as well

By the time the sun was up you were curled against against the headboard. Your eyes watering from that dry cough you’ve developed. You didn’t feel like moving, you were too tired. Too tired to even greet your mates at the door

Cassian’s heavy, booted footsteps come up the stairs first

Tears pricked your eyes from exhaustion and anxiety

Azriel silently pushed your bedroom door open, making his way over to your bed. “Hey princess, whats wrong?” You sniffle and start to cry harder into his chest

Without hesitating Az picked you up, rushing you to your shared bedroom. Rhys and Cass stop unpacking and move to comfort you

“My darling, why are you so upset?” You look up at the three of them with the saddest look on your face. Cassian wipes your tears with his thumbs giving you an equally sad look

You look back at Rhys tapping your temple for him to look at your memories. Rhys nods and you close your eyes

He shares your memories of the Spring meeting and your day yesterday. When it was over you opened your eyes to see Az and Cass fuming. Rhys was giving you a sympathetic look. “Darling, no. You do not listen to a word they say. You do not believe them. Everything they said was a lie, alright.” Rhys said firmly, cupping your face in his large hands

“You are our world, sweetheart. Don’t think for a second that you aren’t important.” Cassian stressed, kissing your forehead

The next few days are spent taking care of you and cheering you up

You read together, go out for meals, shopping for clothes books and anything else your heart desired or whatever the boys felt like spoiling you with. The boys even did the grocery shopping

They take turns holding you on their laps, keeping you tucked into their chest as they tell you stories from camp or when they first fell in love with you and other relationship stories

You have to admit, it was hilarious to imagine the people of Velaris staring as their High Lord, the General, and Spymaster food shop

Laughing about it did make you feel better

They spent the next few nights worshiping your body. Paying attention to every part of you that gets a reaction. Working you up to the most earth shattering orgasms you’ve ever had

By the end of the week you had put Tamlin and his court out of your mind, feeling overjoyed at the amount of love your mates show you

[freedomfireflies]

Destiny

Summary: You’ll lose Harry on August 17th, 2029.

They’ll say it was a freak accident. That nobody could have seen it coming. Nobody could have stopped it.

But you can.

And you will.

Word Count: 1.6k

“I’m not sure. I swear, it was right here on the dresser.”

“I’ll have Anthony check again. We might be able to find a copy somewhere in the office. Or maybe we can find the file through email.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Let me know. I was really looking forward to it.”

“Will do. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Harry nods to his manager, who disappears down the corridor of the arena, before he leans against the wall and hangs his head.

Your heart hammers inside your chest as that familiar ringing returns to your ears. 

There he is.

He’s so close. So fucking close, you can almost smell his vanilla cologne. Can almost feel his soft curls run through your fingers or feel his lips on your neck.

Hear his voice in your ear.

Your body aches to be near him. Every muscle, every nerve-ending, every joint vibrates with the need to be close. To walk over to him, throw your arms around his neck, and bury your face in his chest.

To hold onto him one last time.

But you can’t. You made a deal.

You do this…and you move on.

Harry sighs to himself and looks back up at the ceiling, hands digging into his pockets.

You know what this means. He’s stressed. Aggravated over something he can’t control, and annoyed with himself for being unable to fix it.

In the future, when he'll get frustrated, you’ll press a kiss to his palm, whisper three, “I love you’s,” and count with him to ten.

He’ll remember to breathe, to relax, and to handle the problem one step at a time.

You wish you could do that now.

But this Harry doesn’t know you. He hasn’t met you yet.

He doesn’t love you yet.

And he never will.

You take a deep breath and glance down at the envelope in your pocket that you’d snuck from his dressing room. The same envelope Jeff is currently on a mission to find.

But he won’t find it. There’s no other copy in existence and there won’t be again.

You promised.

If he never goes on that trip to Italy, then he never meets Alexander. And if he never meets Alexander, then he never agrees to the tour around Europe. And if he never agrees to the tour around Europe, then he’ll never be in that car on August 17th at 5:03 P.M. 

He’ll never be flipped over seven times before the vehicle crashes into the wall.

He’ll never attempt to crawl to you and drag you to safety.

He’ll never realize he’s bleeding out faster than either of you can stop it, and he’ll never collapse onto the streets of Barcelona.

You’ll never lose him.

You made a deal that day. Some deity in the universe found you begging anyone that would listen to give you one more chance.

And they decided to give it to you.

They’d let you come back and keep him from finding that envelope. The very envelope that would set everything in motion.

They’d allow you to stop him.

They’d allow you to save his life.

Even if it means he'll never meet you.

Because you and he will bump into each other at a cafe in Paris on March 5th, 2025. He’ll already be waiting there to conduct a meeting with Alexander. The same meeting where they’ll choose the dates for the tour. 

The day they’ll choose to send him to Barcelona.

He’ll notice your dress first and he’ll stop you to tell you that it’s his favorite color. And you’ll blush wildly once you realize who he is and thank him profusely for taking the time to speak with you.

He’ll offer to buy you a croissant and you’ll laugh at his attempt at a French accent. Then you’ll part ways for about half an hour as he and Alexander talk while you return to your chai in the corner of the restaurant.

But he’ll stop by your small table before he leaves. He’ll tell you his name and ask for yours.

You’ll give it to him.

And from that moment on, neither of your lives will ever be the same.

You’d thought long and hard about the decision before agreeing to this second chance. Wondering if there was any other way you could warn him and keep him out of that car without having to lose him completely.

Destiny said no.

As long as your soul is intertwined with his, he will always meet the same fate. 

The only way to save him…is to let him go.

You hear Harry curse to himself as he runs a hand through his hair, tugging on it until he winces. 

The last fragile shard of your heart shatters when you see him drop into a crouch, head cradled in his palms.

“The fuck is wrong with me?” you hear him mumble, the hauntingly familiar question echoing between the empty arena walls until it finds you.

He’s asked himself that at least a hundred times throughout your relationship.

Your answer is always the same:

“Nothing,” you’ll whisper before taking him into your arms. “Nothing, H. You’re perfectly imperfect and I love you.”

He’ll melt in your embrace before allowing himself to sink into your body. “I love you.”

You’d give anything to offer him that comfort now.

Not that he’d know what to do with it.

Suddenly, his head lifts, eyes drifting around the white corridors in thought before they find you.

Your breath catches as you scramble to hide around the corner, pulse racing as you hear him stand, his shoes squeaking along the linoleum floors.

“Hello?”

Your eyes squeeze shut, back pressing into the wall. “Sorry,” you call, silently commanding him not to come over. “Just…looking for the bathroom. My bad.”

But you hear him approach. Hear his feet lead him to you in a way that almost feels…destined.

You’re frozen to your spot, acutely aware of the way you should be heading for the exit. You did what you came to do. He’s safe…and you need him to stay that way.

But you couldn’t resist one final look. One final glimpse of the man that had asked you to marry him only moments before getting into that damned car.

His head peeks out from behind the wall to look for you, brows raising when he sees the way you’re cowering away from him. 

“Are you all right?” he asks, and his voice holds the same compassion he’s demonstrated with you a hundred times before. Despite the fact that he doesn’t know you now…he still cares.

One of the many reasons you fell in love with him. His kindness for everybody.

“Yes, sorry,” you repeat, eyes falling to his shoes. You can’t look at him. “I just…couldn’t find the bathroom.”

“I get it.” He laughs. And the sound makes your stomach rip down the middle. “S’place is huge. You wanna go down this hallway, make a right, follow that hallway…and then it should be on your left.”

You nod without lifting your head. “Thanks. Sorry again for bothering you.”

“No, don’t be,” he insists. “I was just…taking a minute.”

“Yeah,” you reply, and your voice is small. Weighed down by the burden of your grief. “Sometimes we need a minute. Or two.”

“Or twenty,” he adds, chuckling again. “I swear, sometimes I think I have a handle on this shit, and sometimes…it feels like it's completely out of my hands. Like somebody else is pulling the strings and I’m just…along for the ride.”

Your throat constricts as the imminent tears rush to your eyes. “Yeah.”

He pauses and you can feel his eyes on the top of your head. He’s studying you. Your body language, your demeanor, your voice. Looking for something. Looking for what’s wrong.

He did this all the time when you were first dating.

Eventually, he learned to read you like a book.

“Seriously, are you all right?” he asks again, softer this time. Hoping to coax a real answer out of you.

No. No, you’re not all right. How are you supposed to tell him goodbye? How are you supposed to look at the man that asked you to marry him and see that he has no idea who you are?

And that he never will?

How are you supposed to walk through those double doors when you know that the moment you do…you’ll forget. You’ll forget him, you’ll forget your relationship, and you’ll forget the fact that you lost him.

And maybe that’s okay because at least then, you’ll forget that you watched him die. Forget that you watched the life leave his eyes as his hand went limp in yours.

He’d made you promise you’d be okay.

And it was the last thing he ever did.

You don’t know if he’d approve of this. You don’t think he would.

But you’d rather have his life than his love.

You take a deep breath and force your shoulders back. “Yes, sorry. Just taking a minute myself.”

He hums. “Yeah. I get that. Life is…hard.”

“Very,” you whisper before you trail your eyes to his.

He smiles.

And it almost guts you.

“Try…counting to ten,” you say as you take a step back, putting a lifetime of distance between you. “Whenever I’m upset, I just take a deep breath, hold it, and count to ten. And when I’m done…everything doesn’t feel so…loud.”

He seems intrigued by this premise, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk as he nods once. “Yeah. I’ll try that.”

You nod yourself and turn on your heel. You don’t want to leave him but you can’t stay.

Destiny is calling you back.

You make it about three steps before a hand snatches onto your wrist and spins you around.

You know this touch. Know what it means, and you can’t force yourself to see him as he steps closer.

“Wait,” he murmurs, and there’s an urgency woven between each syllable that springs the tears to your waterline.

You go still.

"I know you..." he whispers, eyes trailing over the side of your face, "...don't I?"

Even now, the echo of his love calls out for you.

You swallow every truth you wish you could tell him, and slip yourself from his touch for the last time.

“You used to.”

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter

[rpf-bat]

For the late night asks:

“…I thought you forgot about me.” “I’m sorry. Today has been… a lot and I– I wish I could have called you sooner.” Johnny/Joel or Johnny/Samy

Sorry this ended up taking a day or two. 😅 It’s Johnny/Samy, and it’s 981 words.

Johnny sat listlessly on the couch and stared at his phone, wishing that it would ring. Samy was in Laukaa tonight, a three-hour drive away. His band was opening for Children of Bodom at the Peurunka Areena.

I should be happy for him, Johnny thought with a guilty frown. That’s a huge venue. Probably one of the biggest venues Lost Society has ever played. I should be grateful to Alexi, for giving them that opportunity.

Instead, Johnny was feeling lonely. This was the first night of a tour across Finland, that would take Samy away from home for the next four weeks.

Come on, Joonas, he reminded himself. It’s not like this is the first tour he’s gone on, since you started dating him.

It was, however, the first tour he’d gone on, since Johnny’s own band had broken up.

In the past, their tours had often overlapped. Johnny couldn’t be lonely, when he was also on the road every night, with his three best friends. And his travels often took him further away. Santa Cruz had been to the US three times, while Lost Society had only been there once.

But even when there was a 13-hour time difference between us, Johnny sulked, I still called him after every show.

Maybe it was his pride that was hurting. He was the older of the two men, and up until recently, he’d been the one with the more successful career.

But now I have no career at all.

When he’d come home from the airport, with a broken nose and a broken spirit, Samy had assured him that it would be fine - that he could provide for the both of them, until Johnny got back on his feet. That had been seven months ago, and Johnny still had no idea what he was doing with his life.

Instead, he’d thrown himself into the role of the doting boyfriend. Waking up early every morning to cook Samy breakfast. Cleaning the house while Samy was away at band practice. Making sure his guitars were tuned perfectly, just in case he wanted to practice some more when he got home.

His whole life for the last half a year had revolved around Samy, because he had nothing else left anymore. And now Samy was gone, and he had no idea what to do with himself.

What was your plan, anyway? Johnny asked himself, wanting to tear out his long hair. Be his stupid little house-husband forever? You should be looking for a real fucking job, and….

He was stunned out of his self-loathing thoughts, when the phone suddenly rang.

“I…I thought you forgot about me,” he confessed in a tired whisper.

“I’m sorry,” Samy sighed, on the other end of the line. “Today has been…a lot, and I..I wish I could’ve called you sooner.”

“What happened?” Johnny asked.

Samy sounded stressed out - not euphoric, like he usually did, after a good show. Johnny wanted to kick himself, for only thinking about his own problems, and assuming that his boyfriend was having the time of his life without him.

“My head hurts so bad,” Samy complained. “It was difficult to get through our set, when I was in so much pain. But, I didn’t want to disappoint our fans.”

“Are you coming down with something?” Johnny wondered, concerned.

“No,” Samy insisted. “That’s not it.”

“Then….what is it?”

“I’ve been trying to, um…to not drink before shows anymore,” Samy explained.

“What?” Johnny blinked. “Really?”

He and Samy had been drinking buddies, since….well, since before Samy could even legally drink. They’d attended countless parties together, and always staggered home together happily, leaning on each other for support. The first time they’d hooked up, had been after a night of drinking. So had the second. It had only been after the third time, when they were both sober, that they’d actually talked things out, and decided to start a serious relationship.

Drinking was just part of the Finnish music scene’s culture, and up until recently, he had never really questioned it.

“I thought I could just stop, and it would be fine,” Samy went on. “But, I feel like shit. My stomach has been upset all day, and I’m sweating like a pig. My heart feels like it’s going to burst.”

“Those are withdrawal symptoms,” Johnny realized. He’d seen them before, when he’d poured Archie’s stash of booze down the sink in their hotel bathroom.

“I didn’t think you could have withdrawal from beer!” Samy confessed. “I thought that was something that only happened to people who did, like, hardcore drugs and stuff.”

“It’s a drug, like any other,” Johnny shrugged. A drug he himself hadn’t been able to kick.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough, to keep doing this,” Samy admitted. “Maybe I should’ve waited until after the tour ends, to make any big changes to my lifestyle. I mean, everyone else is partying right now, and I kinda feel left out. You know how Alexi and Janne are.”

“If you can’t do it,” Johnny assured him, “I’ll still love you just the same, Samy. I never asked you to quit.”

“I know you didn’t,” Samy sighed softly. “But…I just don’t ever want to disappoint you, like he did.”

“Who?” Johnny blinked. “Archie?”

“Yeah,” Samy replied. “His drinking got out of control, and he couldn’t be the frontman his band needed him to be anymore. Honestly, the idea of losing my band someday terrifies me.”

“You’re nothing like him!” Johnny cried. “You never will be. You’re a happy drunk, Samy. You don’t go around punching people when you’ve had a few too many, and you’ve never been late to a gig, or…”

“Still.” Samy interrupted him. “I…I just want to be the man that you deserve.”

“Honestly,” Johnny mumbled, his eyes misty, “Sometimes I think I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, JULY 30, 2022 Dance Central, an app I’ve been wanting, was on sale down from $30 to $20, so I grabbed it. It’s kind of cool, even though I’ve only done a few dances. The routines seem pretty simple so far. I like the cartoonish characters. They greet you and offer to dance with you, depending on what “room” of the dance club you’re in.

For $3, he bought the Labyrinth course that Walkabout just released. It’s not very colorful but is otherwise interesting.

I jumped on YouTube for a video on lost balls I hadn’t yet found on some of the courses. I now have all the balls on Tethys Station, a space-themed course.

They lost my leopard print nightgown that I ordered, so that’s going to be delayed until tomorrow. Well, now today.

I’m also going to finally try some of these false magnetic eyelashes soon. When they first came out, I thought they looked ridiculously phony and some of them do if they’re overly thick and long, but then they kind of have a way of looking cool after a while. So I decided I wanted in on the fake eyelash trend. I just hope I’m not too blind to see what the hell I’m doing when I go to apply them. I guess you just put on eyeliner as you normally would that has magnetic properties in it, and the eyelashes come with a tool that you stick them on with. I’ve always had long eyelashes, but age has thinned them out. I don’t have as many lashes, and the lashes I do have may still be long, but they’re thinner.

Tom’s getting a $45 VR cam. As the review said, it’s a piece of crap, but this way he can get an idea of whether or not it’s worth it to eventually get a nice one. That would be awesome if I could walk through this place and film it so those with VR could get a tour of the house.

I decided that I’m not going to go every other day without washing my hair whether it’s better for my scalp or not. Sometimes I can skip but my scalp is too oily no matter what I do, so I need to wash it more often.

I don’t remember what it was about, but last night was the second time Jenny C was in my dreams. It’s weird how I haven’t dreamt of her in years and all of a sudden she’s in my dreams on two separate nights. Andy believes in thought vibration and I wonder if she’s showing up in my dreams because she’s thinking about me all of a sudden. I looked her up on Facebook, but she only has one account that doesn’t appear to be touched in years.

Had to hear the dog not once, not twice, but three times yesterday. Two of the times it was only a few barks, but once it was a little more than a few. It’s just ridiculous either way. This wasn’t supposed to happen here. The fucking thing is too loud. I keep wishing someone would complain, but then how do I know they haven’t? Maybe they have and they got blown off just like I did. I don’t know if it’s because someone in the office is friends with this guy or if they just don’t give a shit but my guess is the first one. They did something about Toni’s sister’s dog after all. Why is it that the people that piss me off the most always have the best connections?

THURSDAY, JULY 28, 2022 The news is still so sad. Nothing but hate for gays and women. If it was hate for blacks they’d never be able to get away with it. You know, these people who are supposed to be making the world a better place for everyone? Really, it’s disgusting. I can’t believe the shit some of these politicians spew is even legal but I guess free speech only applies to them. Even if you get used to stuff like this, I don’t see how it still wouldn’t bring most people down unless you’re one of them of course.

The increase in hate for gays and attacks on women hasn’t decreased the race bullshit I have to hear about everywhere I go. I can’t even buy food without hearing about it. We went to Publix and when I flipped over a container of food to read the ingredients, sure enough, they have a company policy swearing they have no tolerance for racism. I really wish businesses could keep politics out of their products! Ask them to print that about gays and I’m sure they wouldn’t be nearly as quick to do so. Everything is the war in Ukraine, Trump, race, abortion, and hate for gays. Blacks are the only ones anyone seems to care about.

I had Mia message Maliheh just for kicks, and as expected, she blocked her. I asked why she ghosted Jodi and said that she wouldn’t want her back in her life anyway, so don’t worry about that because she doesn’t have her horny hormones anymore since entering menopause and wouldn’t trust her either. LOL

Nane declined the friend request from Mia. I figured as much, but you never know when people may actually take a break from their predictability and surprise you.

No termite update, so while Mark was probably in the hospital for real, I doubt it was nearly as serious as she claimed. She always exaggerates everything. He’s definitely alive because he would have an obituary if he wasn’t just like his brother who died last year. I just can’t see the termite not having an obituary for him. It’s a little strange how no one has asked for any updates. Maybe they’re asking what’s up in a PM.

The fucking fungus returned to some of my nails and I started treating them again. I have a feeling that I’m just bound to keep getting this damn fungus no matter what I do. So at some point, I’ll probably just give up on them and live with it. I first thought it was damage from the remover and I’m surprised that it came back this fast and this much.

Andy went to the ER yesterday with chest pain, but everything’s OK. I’m guessing it’s connected to his asthma, or maybe even anxiety or a pulled muscle. He’s still waiting on lab results and has to see his PCP. He was in the ER for five hours and got tired of waiting, so he signed a form saying that he was leaving against doctor’s orders.

I hope it’s nothing serious and I’m guessing it isn’t. Yes, he’s Jewish and heart disease runs in our genetics but he’s not that old, and he hasn’t smoked anything in a long time. He is fat and lazy, though.

No doubt due to his trip to the ER, I had a dream that he died. In the dream, I was thinking how Aly and Andy were once alive and well, and now they’re both gone.

I also had a dream that Norma died. Her death made me excited by the thought of seeing Michelle for some reason and I was thinking about emailing her. I thought about what I might wear if she came to visit us.

We were living in a luxury condo or apartment. It was on an upper floor, but I don’t know how many stories the building was. I told Tom that I was going out for a while and as I backed out of the place and proceeded to lock the door, I noticed that there was water running along the hallway. There was no carpet. The hallway had a concrete floor. For a second, I thought of running back inside to tell Tom, but then I decided against it, not thinking it was any big deal.

The dream ended with me riding a bike through a busy intersection.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 27, 2022 I’m not at all impressed with the Long Island iced tea. It’s almost got a medicinal taste that sort of reminds me of Oragel.

September 21st will be when I start my diet because that will be 8 weeks of 88s and where my TSH is as good as it’s going to get.

Haven’t heard much from Jessie, and of course I’m left wondering what’s going on with the VR. What is it with people making me wait on them?

And what is it with people acting like there’s no such thing as adoption? They talk about women being forced to carry their rapists’ babies and fears of child abuse reports going up because of women being forced to raise all these unwanted kids and I just don’t get it. Not only is no one literally forced to give birth with all the ways to get around the crazy laws, but no one’s forced to keep the damn kids either. If you’re that miserable with the idea of keeping a kid you don’t want, drop them off at the supreme court for fuck’s sake. Don’t torture yourselves even more by keeping them.

Right now, his goal with the horses is to have them consistently making $10 a day a year from now. So far, his latest adjustment has been consistent. It surpassed his $20 goal for the week. He doesn’t wanna jump the gun, but if all works out, he’ll increase his bets a year from now to make more money. I never thought I would ever be able to take 88s every day, so now I’m not so quick to say that the betting program is just a dream.

I had a dream that Tom threw up two or three times.

TUESDAY, JULY 26, 2022 Sipping some pina colada while listening to the storm. Love the thunder and rain. It storms every day at this time of year and this is the fiercest storm we’ve had this season. The thunder is deafening and keeps going on and on and on. So glad I’m not trying to sleep now! The house is practically shaking with each boom of thunder.

We went out to Publix earlier where I got a small bottle of pina colada and damn is it good! It’s so creamy and sweet. I got Long Island iced tea as well. I’ll have that tomorrow. I also got a big container of fried chicken wings.

Tomorrow, which is our 1-year anniversary of moving into this house, will be the start of all 88s.

I had this dream where we downsized from a bigger house. The bigger house looked like it might have been my second childhood home if not the one next to it and I missed having the extra space. The one we moved to almost seemed like my grandparents’ house. There was definitely more space around it. We weren’t responsible for doing the lawn, though. When the person who mowed was mowing across the street, I decided to take a sit-down mower we had and go for a little ride on it. It was an electric mower and ran out of charge at the end of the driveway. The guy mowing got off his mower and ran over to help. He asked if I had a charger and I said I did and that it was in the garage. I had to run through the house and into the garage in order to get it. On the way there, I saw a piece of gum stuck to the floor and stooped down to pick it up.

With the mower squared away, the guy started talking about people I had spoken to, suggesting for whatever reason, that I shouldn’t have talked to them.

“Stay away from Alyssa. Stay away from Stephanie who cares,” he said.

Becoming angry, I said. “You don’t even know who Alyssa is.”

“Stephanie who cares” was someone I talked to about Aly dying who told me I could talk to them anytime I wanted because they care. I told her, “Thanks, Stephanie who cares,” and it kind of became my nickname for this person.

Then I was participating in a health interview on TV, and then with Andy somewhere. My lungs were tight and wheezy. I think I might have still been smoking too.

MONDAY, JULY 25, 2022 In the 90s, we had a black rabbit that my MIL gave us when we lived in Phoenix. Her neighbors behind her turned a bunch of baby bunnies loose if I remember the story correctly. Bunny started off in a rabbit hutch that Tom built for him. Eventually, we introduced him to the outdoors a little at a time. At first I thought he would like the fresh air and variety every now and then, but he came to love it so much that the more we put him out in our backyard, which was walled off by a cement block wall, the more he resisted going back indoors. Then one day something killed him, most likely a cat. I felt so bad for him and I still do, even though he didn’t look too well for a few days before the attack and might not have lived much longer anyway. Had he lived, however, to move with us to Maricopa, we couldn’t have thrown him outside there, so he would have hated being forced back indoors. As abruptly and as tragically as his life ended, I’m glad he got to be happy and enjoy the freedom of the outdoors that he loved so much.

I decided that after the next beach run in a couple of weeks or so, I’m going to get a pedicure done. My joint issues make it hard for me to bend over as easily as I used to. So I figured why not let the pros handle my calluses, hangnails, and ingrown toenail for me for a change? I just think it would be best to go right after we go to the beach because the salt water wouldn’t be very good for it.

Jessie didn’t make it to Daytona or order the headset online because both her dogs are sick. One of them was sick earlier and now both are. I’m not sure what’s going on. Why can’t Happy get sick or worse? I only heard the damn thing once yesterday, but it’s no longer just a few barks at a time. I wonder if he’s going to let it bark longer and longer.

I know this may sound funny since many older people wish they were younger, but I wish I was 65! Then I would not only be the same age as my husband instead of 8 years younger but could also get paid $10 a month for taking 7500 steps a day as well as receive other perks and payments from Medicare. At least I can put in for retirement at 62 like he did. I still feel so young, though, LOL.

We ordered some stuff from Sam’s. Dishwashing pods, garbage bags, and a new kitchen trash can. They just had to go and fuck up ours during the move. The cover is slightly bent, which lets out odors, and they scuffed up the outside of it.

I finished the latest challenge on VZ yesterday and now I’m doing rides of my own choosing until the next challenge, whatever that may be. I hope they have another tree-planting challenge. For now, I’m in Thailand again.

Still no updates from the termite, so yeah, Mark’s going to survive. If what he was going through was that serious, he would have either passed by now or she would know he was going to soon enough and she would have announced it. I don’t doubt that it was serious enough in itself, but I don’t think he’s going to die.

I had Mia send Nane a friend request, but I don’t expect her to accept it. I hope she doesn’t suspect I’m behind the account and block it, but if she does, she does. I’m not even sure I want to keep the account because I’m not curious enough about anybody to check up on them regularly that has me blocked or that I have blocked from my main account. Plus, it’s not time to contact anyone yet.

Later…

It’s getting real. I’m getting emotional (in a good way). The 75s and I have less than 24 hours to say goodbye to each other forever. I did it. I made it to 88s with NO anxiety! Never thought I’d see the day. I couldn’t even tolerate the 75s years ago. Now I just have to hope that within 6 to 8 weeks my numbers are where they should be.

SATURDAY, JULY 23, 2022 I’m so fucking sick of seeing Trump’s face and name everywhere. The fucking cock hasn’t been president in years and he’s still everywhere. Why do people dignify this piece of shit with undeserved attention?

Anyway, the giant $99 4k TV is here. It’s definitely clearer! It’s brighter too, but I guess that can be adjusted.

Tomorrow I’ll have the smaller wok, wok spatula/strainer, meat cleaver, and the pink satin pillowcases with matching scrunchies.

I had a dream that I found this crab somewhere and decided to make it a pet. It got loose and I found it a minute later underneath a piece of furniture. It walked toward me and I bravely picked it up to bring it to its cage.

I definitely don’t remember most of my dreams as much as I used to. When I first wake up, I’ll remember bits and pieces, but by the time I’m up and functional, they’re gone from my memory.

We ran out to the store for treats earlier. I’m sipping some pinot noir. It’s pretty good.

30 more miles to go on my remaining ride for the summer challenge. Can’t wait till Jessie has access to this app! She said that instead of ordering online, she may pick up a Q2 tomorrow at Best Buy because they also want a camera to take pictures of the wildlife around them. The $30 bonus would have been nice, but I told her to do what she’s got to do.

OK, that’s the second day in a row that I heard that mutt and only because I happened to be talking to Alexa when it was barking who paused the nature sounds. Does something up there want me to hear it?

FRIDAY, JULY 22, 2022 I just got five separate royalty payment notifications, but it looks like it’s only gonna total about $15. I could republish the books, but the problem is that unless they’re new, nobody buys them.

One thing that hasn’t changed is that the few pounds I lost are slowly resetting themselves. I forgot about that. I don’t know why it does that, but I can only assume it feels it’s what it’s comfortable doing, so I’m not going to argue with it. I’m still going to stick to my plan and diet in October, but I can already see that calorie cuts won’t do me any good. Not if my body is going to go into reset mode.

Thank you, Steven K, for revealing your last name to me. Now I have a name to give the office should you let your mutt get worse in the cooler weather or at least to contact you on Facebook to tell you just what I thought of your rudeness if we ever move.

Now that I’ve been here a year, I was curious as to what people were saying about the place, so I looked at Google reviews. I’ve looked before but it’s different when you know a place firsthand. Someone said they were turned off from moving here by all the Trump signs. But that’s everywhere in Florida. Pretty much everyone here hates everybody who isn’t a straight non-Jewish male.

I just had to hear the damn thing a few minutes ago. My hunch was right, as one of his posts confirms. He takes the thing on the golf cart to the dog park and that’s what gets it all excited. I can just imagine what it’s gonna be like when people can open their windows and the fucking thing is going off at every single sound it hears and every time someone goes in the kitchen.

“The neighbors are great and we bought a place a few months ago,” he said in his review. Because they’re supposedly great, that makes me doubt even more that anyone would complain. No Poop next to him won’t because they seem to be pretty good friends. There are still people across the street and behind him, but I doubt anyone would say anything. It wouldn’t bother me if it wasn’t so loud. It isn’t that it’s frequent or for long periods when I do hear it. It’s just loud.

sighs So now it’s back to having nature sounds playing all day just like in Cali. But at least I can still get peace at night. For now, anyway. Knew this would happen, though. The places I move to always get noisier. If the dog croaked, there would just be a new dog somewhere to replace it. I’m sure there will be more loud vehicles and other dogs at some point. I don’t expect it to ever get as bad as the other place but it’s never going to be like it was before that dog hit the scene. Hell, even the honker is preferable because I don’t hear the motorcycle every day. This dog, however, is close enough to a daily occurrence.

Speaking of No Poop, he got gravel delivered between his and Steve’s place. The question is what is it for? To park a future golf cart, or worse, a future motorcycle?

Sure enough, Steve’s a Trump fan. As I said, I’m sure most people in Florida are.

His wife is Julia. Despite the argument I heard a while back, they seemed to be pretty close. And she loves her “handsome boy,” who is their ugly mutt. It seriously is ugly too. Unfortunately, it probably has another decade or more to live.

I had Alexa play a random nature sound. I think it was some kind of ocean she chose. It did a good job of masking the dog in the kitchen because it was barking. I noticed this when I asked her to turn on the light and she paused the sound. Not sure it would do much good in the living room, though.

Jessie has Manowar that they have to watch out for at certain times of the year and they got red and purple flags the other day. The West and East Coasts are very different in Florida. We haven’t seen any jellyfish yet and we haven’t gotten anything worse than a yellow flag. It was yellow yesterday, which means moderate currents. Green is low-risk currents. We never want to see red or purple. Red is high-risk currents and purple is dangerous marine life.

Another weird thing yesterday was that after we were coming out of the bathhouse, we noticed someone parked within inches of the driver’s side of our car. Then a guy came out and said it was employee parking and moved his car. We never saw a sign anywhere.

Yesterday was such a fun day. We even ordered Domino’s Pizza when we got home. I got some chicken wings to go with my pizza. Tom can’t eat as much as he used to. I’m still waiting for my appetite to drop more. I’m not hungry all the time like I used to be, but I can still pack it in.

I saw a headline about the rising costs of plane tickets and thought it would keep the skies quieter for a while. But it’s back to one after another after another in the early mornings.

My ear has been withering and shrinking away as if it’s dying and I don’t know why.

THURSDAY, JULY 21, 2022 Early morning…

We’re off to the beach now. I realized that if we left early, we could beat the worst of the heat. I always hope it’ll be cloudy, but I’m sure it will be sunny as usual.

My beach tan - or beach burn, I should say - was fading. But most of all, I missed the beach. It’s been three weeks since our last visit. We’re on US 19 now, which we hate. Traffic gets a little scary here, so many accidents. We’re not heading straight for the beach, of course, but for the charger.

I don’t have a list of journal notes accumulated as I’m fairly caught up on my writing. I’m just writing whatever comes to mind and then I’ll work on my story. I’m using this trip as a good opportunity to get back on with Good Neighbors.

I’m a little tired today, but not enough to stop me from getting my sun and sea. I prefer mostly clouds and sea, but I’ll take what I can get.

After I ate and did my teeth this morning, I did a quick meditation session, got 5 miles in on my Yosemite ride, and did a few Bowflex exercises.

I downloaded some apps, one where Tom and I can play Crazy 8’s together.

Mia is now on level 120.

Didn’t hear the mutt yesterday. We had a nice storm too, even if it didn’t last overly long. Jessie shared a video of a fierce storm at her place. Lots of heavy rain, wind, thunder, and lightning. She definitely gets more storms than we do. Part of me still wishes we could head further south where it’s even warmer, but part of me also wants to jump over to where she is. That is if we don’t get rich enough for Hawaii or can ever afford to move again to begin with. Wish I had more energy right now, but all I’m going to do is sit on the beach, hang out in the water, and sit in the car again like I am now.

It should be high tide going out when we get there. I just hope there aren’t tons of screaming kids or loud music, but hey, it is summer.

Later…

Had an awesome time at the beach! It’s way better if you get there when they open, especially in the summer. There weren’t many people and the water temperature was perfect. I swam, read a few pages of my book (Daniel Hurst is great), then swam again.

We’re leaving Dunedin now and heading for the charger in Holiday. The one by Baskin-Robbins so we can walk over for ice cream.

Lost the nail sticker on my right thumb in the water and will replace it at home.

The medians are so green with bunches of bright little yellowy-orange poppies. At least I think they’re poppies.

Later still…

Leaving the charger now. Baskin-Robbins really needs to train their employees on how to make milkshakes. Decided to get a shake instead of ice cream but it was so runny that it was more like flavored milk. He got Vanilla and I got Old Fashioned Pecan. Next time I want to try the Breakfast in Bed. I’ll just get it in ice cream form. They can’t fuck that up.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 20, 2022 Still no Termite Tammy updates, so I’m sure that if he was anywhere near death she would have said so. The only thing I don’t get is the ventilator. From what I read, they give you antibiotics. If that doesn’t work, they do surgery. So his brain infection must have come from something that started in the lungs.

Not sure anymore that the termite is in Florida. She shared a picture of Mark early in the month and clearly, it’s not their Florida place. But it looks like it’s where they’re living because I recognize some of the figurines. First, she was going to Ohio and then her dream all of a sudden was North Carolina, so I don’t know where they are, but it definitely doesn’t look like the South or the West. It’s somewhere in the east or the northeast. It could be an older photo that she shared, but I don’t think so. The guy looks older in the picture than I remember him to look when we saw him 6 years ago.

I was really surprised yesterday to learn that I slept through what Tom described as the loudest thunder of the season. He thought I was kidding at first when I said that nothing woke me up and assumed that that was why I got up so late. Nope, never heard a thing. Never heard anything last night either, but I’m pretty sure it didn’t rain or thunder.

He’s working on installing another camera in back of the house. Really wish we could aim one in Toni and Steve’s direction, but he doesn’t have any way to get power to it over there.

Either the office never spoke to Steve about the mutt or he just doesn’t give a fuck. It still barks its ass off when he takes it out on the golf cart. My guess is the first one. They responded when I asked about the tractors. They responded when “Cindy” gave her two cents about the motorcycles. But I got nothing about the dog. So that tells me right there that they’ve got his back. I still think he’s got a lot of connections in the park. And because the dog was Roy’s, a respected resident of 40 years, they’re not about to complain about anything of his. So because it was Roy’s dog and Steve is a little social butterfly he can do whatever he wants.

If it’s possible to do so, I’m gonna haunt every neighbor that ever annoyed me after I die!

TUESDAY, JULY 19, 2022 Down, down and down it goes. My TSH that is. It’s exciting, but a little scary. OK, so things may be different now in that I’m not a newly minted PTSD person, my hormones have settled, and I’m not alone so much of the time, but it’s still a little nerve-wracking knowing that it’s still dropping. Plus, I don’t know how low it’s going to go. For a while, I think it’s best that I don’t know what the numbers are. I remember a few years ago or so when I was notified that my results were a 7 and that alone caused me to freak out because all I could do was remember the hell I went through the two times I was at a 3. Again, I know things are different now and I’m slowly ramping up my dose rather than just jumping instantly, but sometimes what I don’t know definitely doesn’t hurt me. It should be quite a while before I’m tested again anyway.

I’m estimating I’ll settle in and accumulation will peak in October. I’d probably still freak out a bit along with feeling elated if my numbers were ever normal, LOL. If I can stand to get my numbers between 3-5 without epic anxiety, October will be when I make one last-ditch effort to lose weight. I’ve got a slight head start since I’ve already lost a few pounds without even trying. It’s coming down all right. I can see signs of my metabolism speeding up simply because I no longer eat an 80-calorie apple, jump up nearly two pounds, and stay that way for hours.

Yesterday was my second to last 75, so getting kind of emotional in a good way. Next Tuesday, that’s it. That’s the last 75 I’ll ever take. Then it’s all 88s from there on out. I hope I never need to make the jump to 100, but if I do, I at least know how to do it now. It would have been a lot better, however, if my doctors had figured this out for me years ago. I still would have had some degree of suffering, but maybe not as much.

The wok I ordered came yesterday and we were both surprised to see how huge it is. That’s not what we thought I ordered, but we both checked and found that it is. So we jumped on Amazon to search for a smaller one. Plus, I added a wok scoop with holes in it and a meat cleaver. Oh, and some pink satin pillowcases to go with the new satin sheets. They come with matching satin hair scrunchies.

I’m surprised this thing was only 7 bucks because it’s so big. Surprisingly lightweight too, compared to the cast iron skillet. Because it’s all I have at the moment, I poured in about ½ inch of olive oil and deep-fried potatoes, veggies, and a couple of eggs. They came out great. Slightly greasy though, because all I had to work with was a slotted spatula. Maybe I’ll use both woks, just like I use two different slow cookers. Definitely gotta fry up some chicken wingettes as well as do tempura, but only once since tempura isn’t exactly good for me. I was thinking of making chicken feet too. Never had them before, but the odds of me not liking them aren’t very good since I like almost everything, so why not?

Roe, race, Roe, race, Roe, race… It seems that’s all the fucking news is ever about these days.

It only lasted for a minute or two, but I heard hammering. Right away, I said to myself, I bet I can guess where it’s coming from. Yup. Steve. Getting back onto days isn’t what it used to be because now I’m more likely to have to hear his mutt. Again, I know it’s only one or three times a day and usually under a minute, but that’s not the point. It’s going to be worse when the weather cools down, plus I’m gonna have to listen to the honking and the motorcycle on top of it then.

MONDAY, JULY 18, 2022 First, let me start off with what I was too tired to write yesterday. A lizard got into the house the other day. It must have been on the door when Tom came in. Unfortunately, I had to kill the poor little thing to get it out of here. There was no way I could simply walk up to it and pick it up and place it outside. It would have died anyway without insects to eat but still, I didn’t want it to die in the house.

We put one of our motion sensor light strips in the lanai even though I can see perfectly fine with just the light shining through from the living room. We still don’t plan to be out there very often. We mostly go in there to use the Bowflex. He has his 3D printer out there as well.

We ran out to Walgreens last night. I hadn’t had candy in a while so I was glad to see that they’re selling those little mini bags of Lindt truffles again that have only two truffles per bag. I wasn’t happy to learn, however, that they’re discontinuing Barefoot’s merlot so I got Yellow Tail’s instead. They’re just as good. They just don’t do single bottles.

A little later…

Thanks to the thunder that woke me up last time around, I’m still kind of tired and will be for who knows how many days. But I don’t feel the need to nap as strongly as I did yesterday. Maybe the nap and getting into bed early helped keep me from being more tired than I am. Until I can sleep straight through without having my sleep split in half, I’m going to be tired to some degree. I still worry that I’m going to be in for about 2 months of sleep hell worse than the traffic at the old place. My body can’t take all these sleep disturbances. I’m not 20 years old.

But I am down from 161.2 to 158.7 pounds. I’m not even dieting yet, so I’m thinking my metabolism is speeding up. I noticed I don’t tend to hold the same weight for hours as I used to.

So the thunder woke me up shortly before 5, but it wasn’t until nearly 6:30 that I finally had to take Benadryl to get more sleep. I considered getting up then, figuring that if I was having that much trouble falling back asleep, then maybe I got enough sleep. But I knew I really needed more.

I’m marking on the calendar how many times thunder wakes me up just to see what kind of pattern shows up. It was usually two to four times a week that I would get woken up by traffic at the other place when I was on nights.

The air cleaner is enough in this place when there aren’t any low-flying copters, motorcycles or thunder. I still wish there weren’t so many outages here. Obviously, it’s not nearly as bad as Auburn, but it’s not like Citrus Heights either.

I had a dream we were living in this huge two-story house. My bedroom was on one end of the top floor. We were getting ready to bomb the place. I looked up and saw this longish bug slithering across the ceiling. Then I walked out of the bedroom, through a couple of other rooms, and into a spacious living room where all the windows were open and there was a lovely cross breeze. I thought of how I wished I could pump the fresh air down into the bedroom.

I also checked in on the termite through Mia’s account. It’s not COVID. It’s a brain infection. Somebody asked the termite what was wrong and she said he was still in critical condition and on a ventilator with a brain infection. I’m guessing this is some form of meningitis. Tom had that when he was little. From what I read, the prognosis is usually pretty good if it’s treated properly, but he might be messed up in the head cognitive-wise when he gets out of the hospital.

I definitely have mixed emotions about this one. I don’t want the guy to die for his sake, but the termite took my husband from me for half a year. She deserves to be punished by having someone close to her taken from her and then have to spend her final 20 years alone even if she’s got kids to help her and won’t die alone. At least I don’t think she will. My mother’s mother had kids and she died alone. The point is, I don’t care what happens to her. She deserves any shit she gets.

The woman whose name is the very first word of my very first journal entry was in my dreams last night. Yeah, Jenny. I dreamt that we met up and were going to get an apartment together. LOL, No hard feelings toward her after all this time, but she’s the last one I would ever live with. She was too bossy, selfish, and well, I don’t think giving up on your friend because they had a rough childhood and had problems to work through as they adjusted to the real world was very smart. But she was young and I guess she had to do what she had to do.

I looked her up out of curiosity, but she has virtually no online presence.

SUNDAY, JULY 17, 2022 Every now and then I look in on the termite from my other Facebook account just to see if anything new pops up. I thought all I would see were self-assuring memes and I did find a new one saying that if you hold on to the past it will destroy you. That was pretty laughable too because the bitch holds on to everything.

The surprise came when she mentioned Mark being in the hospital on a ventilator and fighting for his life. There was also a link to GoFundMe to help with the medical expenses but it wasn’t clickable. This is because she either made it visible to a select audience or deleted it.

While I feel absolutely horrible for Mark, who seemed like a really great guy and totally the opposite of what the termite would be with, I feel absolutely nothing for her. I hope she and her daughters experience nothing but pure misery for the rest of their lives. Yes, I’m saying this about my own biological sister and nieces. You see, biology simply doesn’t matter when you screw me over bad enough, and I mean bad. Even more so when it wasn’t only a one-time thing. I have zero tolerance for any form of abuse whatsoever. I won’t take it from anyone, no matter what your gender is or your relation to me, or your status in life.

Again, we both feel bad for him. Our first guess is COVID. Of course it could be some other lung disease, but that one makes the most sense. My first thought was that he would definitely be doomed, but when I checked. It said that over 50% of COVID patients who need ventilators do survive.

Either way, it was all I could do to keep from suggesting that maybe Karma has finally visited her. Plus ask why she needs help with medical bills when the guy is on Medicare. He’s in his 70s. All in good time, though, as far as contact goes.

It will be interesting to see how this plays out. If he doesn’t make it, she’ll definitely announce it. I don’t want Mark to die for his sake, but her being a widow at 65 is quite a punishment. She would have only been in her 50s had she not given up the abusive man obsession and stayed with Bill. It would be worse if she was alone while she was young and horny but it would still be bad enough. I know that if Tom goes before I do, I’m following. I couldn’t imagine sticking around, even with all the help and money in the world. I would be so incredibly lonely and depressed, unlike anything I’d ever experienced. No thanks!

I know that termite and I’m sure she no doubt wishes she had her sister in her life to cry on her shoulder about what’s going on. She should have thought about that years ago, though.

For selfish reasons, I’m glad we’re disconnected. I’m mostly glad because of the way she is, but I’m also glad because we don’t exactly have much extra money and I know we would feel obligated to do something if we were still connected.

What’s kind of weird is the fact that I recently killed the guy in the story I intend to leave online along with all my journals when I’m gone. He’s not dead, but it wouldn’t be the first time I jinx-wrote something into happening. Perhaps the influencer is a little too close? LOL, only I’m influencing the wrong target. Or maybe not. If she dies, she can’t live to suffer unless she’s going to hell if there is such a place.

I still miss Aly every single day. I keep hoping she’ll fade into the background of my mind and become a distant memory but she never does. I think of her every day. She’s on my mind a lot. Just those simple things I miss that I took for granted like us writing on the old NaNoWriMo site and even how Kim would join the two of us there. Hell, I would even take Molly’s shit again to have Aly alive and a part of my life again.

I know I shouldn’t do this but I can’t help but compare her to Jessie in my mind. As sweet as Jessie is, whenever I get a message from her I can’t help but think how much of a better writer Aly was, how quick she was to understand and remember things.

I even miss my chats with Stacey at times, just not nearly as much. I still wonder about her at times too. She gave me every indication to believe she liked me. But then one day I saw her and she was so cold, distant, and impersonal, and I have to wonder how a person can turn their feelings off just like that. When I would really like someone, nothing changed that whether or not I knew it should. Meaning I would never pass up the chance to even be just their friend if I liked them that much.

I’m pretty tired today because I didn’t sleep long. Less than six hours. Tom said he assumed the thunder woke me up and I was like, what thunder? Surprisingly, there was really loud thunder for about half an hour to an hour. I didn’t sleep with an earplug, but I slept with Nature Sounds cranked up a bit. Anytime there’s the potential for storms or when they’re going to be mowing or when that fucking motorcycle returns in a few months, I turn up the volume.

I’ve actually been sleeping much better lately. I don’t have to get up to pee as much and I don’t hot flash on these satin sheets. The problem is that I don’t always sleep long enough. I know the next day I’ll make up for it and sleep longer, but I hate being tired as often as I am. I don’t know if I’m going to have any energy to “hit the road” and get in some miles on VZfit. I don’t even have the energy to write about everything I wanted to write about tonight, so I’ll call it quits for now.

SATURDAY, JULY 16, 2022 I made a deep-fried egg and damn was it good! I put in about half an inch of olive oil in the smallest pot we have but it never boiled. It was smoking a little bit, so I decided to drop the egg in once it got a little smoky. Next time I’ll know to cover it with the screen right away because it splatters. It only needs to sit in the oil for a few seconds until the edges start browning. It came out perfect. The yolk wasn’t too runny or too hard.

Found a cheap wok at Walmart and it will be delivered by the 20th. I would have preferred a curved one, but that won’t work without a gas stove. I got the smallest one they had because that way I don’t waste so much oil if I want to deep fry eggs. It’s mostly going to be great for veggies.

Tonight’s dinner was my own variation on the potato hash recipe which uses chickpeas. A healthy mix of yellow potatoes, lima beans, sugar snap peas, peppers, mushrooms, green onions, and a sprinkle of cheese. I added some garlic sauce I got today and it was good, but fresh is always better. It’s tough because I tend to want to get frozen veggies because they last longer, but fresh is better tasting and healthier.

I felt good yesterday and so far today. Nonetheless, I got some aspirin. Jessie said her doctor told her to take it for chest pain. Remembering that this is recommended, I decided it couldn’t hurt to have some on hand.

Tom heard the dog bark for about 10 seconds when someone came to visit on a golf cart. Then he heard someone tell it to shut up. Oh, so they’ll tell it to shut up when they have company, but not when the damn thing is outside being heard in other people’s houses?

I created my own guided ride on VZ! Not without running into a problem that Tom helped me out with. This first guided ride is from my first childhood home to my second childhood home.

FRIDAY, JULY 15, 2022 My blood pressure is much better since I cut down on processed foods once again. It’s not great, but it’s better. I don’t think I’ll need medication for it as long as I eat right.

Now here’s some good and weird news. The weird news is that I had the fiercest chest pain last night than I had ever had before. So much so that I woke Tom up. I briefly had a small pinprick of pain toward the left part of my chest. But the strong pain I got hit with later on was all over the center of my chest. I didn’t really think it was my heart because I didn’t have other symptoms along with it. Plus, there’s still the fact that I’m not that old yet, I’m active, and I don’t smoke. I also just had what were the best lab results in quite a while.

The pain was surprisingly strong and Tom had me take a Tums. This helped to a degree and I also took a couple of ibuprofen for good measure. After sitting still for a while and letting the medicine work, I was OK. I can still feel faint traces of it, but like he said, the memory of the pain may be enough to trick a person into thinking they’re feeling it when they’re not. We’re thinking it was indigestion from something I ate. Probably the burrito which I rarely eat. This has never happened to me before, but I guess there’s a first time for most things.

The good news is that the anxiety is gone again. Yesterday was better than the day before with about ½ hour where it was more noticeable. I prayed and prayed to those collective positive energy sources. It seems to work. I don’t know what made me anxious those couple of days. I just hope it’s an isolated incident that rarely happens, if ever again.

The only thing I feel today is tired. I don’t know why since I’m still waiting an hour before coffee. I thought thunder woke me up, but he said there wasn’t any at that time. Maybe it was just my bladder waking me up, but I did have a little trouble falling back asleep after using the potty. Whenever my sleep gets split up like that, I tend to be tired.

We had rain, wind, and thunder after I got up.

After going the longest I’ve gone without hearing the fucking mutt, I heard it at around 8:00 PM. It barked for a minute or two with Steve doing absolutely nothing to control it, of course. The winter is going to be bad. Between his mutt and Darren’s honking and motorcycle, I don’t expect to get as much peace this winter as last winter. Especially since Darren should be here for 6 months and not 3.

Another thing I’m worried about is that they’re going to be breaking ground for a new pool. I wonder how much of that we might hear over here in our place. There are houses between us and the clubhouse but distance-wise it’s not that far. I’m guessing it’s about 600 feet, so kind of comparable to our old place and the cemetery. I just wonder how many loud tractors are gonna be racing by our place if the roads are blocked by other equipment and it’s more convenient to go around. I feel so bad for the people living in that area! A pool won’t take that long to put in, but a new or additional clubhouse will.

So that’s one way my vibe of us not being here forever could come true is that they raise the rent too high. Either that or maybe we’ll be here until one of us needs to go into assisted living somewhere because I just don’t see us getting enough money from the horses to have more options.

Tom said his biggest concern is a price hike to help pay for it all but thinks that’s years away if it ever happens. Well, hopefully they’ll have common sense enough to know that some people are on a fixed income and that income doesn’t go up just because they add more stuff.

A part of me misses having land and country living where we have more freedom. You just can’t be a couple of hundred feet away from neighbors in case they don’t allow their dogs indoors, use loud power tools, loud vehicles, or rowdy kids. You want to be at least 500 feet away or more. But he doesn’t miss rural life at all. He says it’s too much work. Sure, it was when he had to work full time and we had an 800-foot well that kept crapping out. But things are different now. We don’t need to go where the water table is that low and we might not even need a well if we don’t venture that far from civilization which we both don’t want to do anyway. I don’t want to have to drive an hour to the hospital if one of us has an emergency. Also, they’re working on bringing faster Internet to rural areas, so the only thing we may lose is getting our groceries delivered.

It isn’t just that, though. He feels that rural living isn’t as safe as it used to be. You’re definitely safer in an adult community, but I do miss country living, even if it does have its hassles. You’re also isolated without anyone to run to quickly if you ever need help with something, even if you’re not that far from civilization.

Last night I golfed with a guy in Latvia. It was weird at first because his avatar head was barely a few inches off the ground. That’s because he was lying down. He sucked even when he finally stood up, LOL.

Jessie’s getting more convinced that she wants to get her own VR headset. I told her about some of our favorite apps and how things work in general. I even made her a video using some apps, especially VZfit because she doesn’t quite get it. She said she would love to be exercising where she can see all that too, after I shared some pictures I took on my rides. If she gets the Q2, we both get $30 of store credit.

Nature Sounds is back to being reliable again. If they keep it up, I’ll cancel the cancellation I put in for my subscription.

THURSDAY, JULY 14, 2022 I don’t know if it means anything just yet, but my metabolism is definitely speeding up. It’s only a little, but it’s noticeable. I felt better today than I did yesterday. Maybe when we pray for help with anxiety and other things, it isn’t that we’re praying to any particular God but to an energy source. I don’t see how there could be a loving God with all the shit that goes on in this world. If there was a God, it would certainly be an enabler the same as one parent letting another parent abuse a child and not doing anything about it. But maybe we pray to a certain energy. I saw an episode recently on collective energy. Maybe we’re drawing positive currents of energy toward us when we pray but I don’t know. Many of my prayers have gone unanswered in the past, so who knows?

This is the longest I’ve gone without hearing the mutt. I find it hard to believe it’s been that quiet. It’s probably been barking when I’ve been sleeping.

I was out in the lanai in the middle of the night using the Bowflex. In the summer during the daytime, it’s close to 100 degrees in there, but closer to 80 at night. If I go out there when it’s not that late, the roads outside the park remind me of how the freeway sounded inside our old place. I do not miss that constant roar that you had most of the year either!

They had a flash sale on a $450 4K TV that he was able to get for $99. They sold out in just five minutes. We’re thinking we might put that monitor in my closet office.

I had a weird dream that I had to start high school all over again even though we were still older and he was still retired. We must have been living somewhere cold because instead of sleeping in just my underwear, I got up out of bed early in the morning in a long-sleeved flannel nightgown. I was tired as hell and just wanted to jump back into my warm bed and not go to school, but I had no choice. Tom thought that one was pretty funny.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 13, 2022 My butt is getting sore sitting on the chair that’s in my closet office as I call it. Soon, this chair will be as comfortable as my other one because I’m getting the same gel cushion with the tailbone gap that Tom has.

I managed to sleep through the mowers. Tom said there were two stand-up mowers, one quieter than the other. The quieter one did this side of the street, and the louder one did the other side. I should sleep OK tomorrow too, because it looks like the weather will be clear.

We’re now trying the straps on the satin sheet to see if it holds it steady and prevents it from slipping and bunching. They crisscross underneath the mattress and clip onto the corners.

Now for the bad news. Yeah, I knew deep down the anxiety hadn’t really left me forever, and no, my story doesn’t have an end. It just doesn’t have as many bad times as it used to have. Tom thinks it’s connected to me being on nights. I took magnesium and a CBD gummy, but it didn’t seem to change how I felt. Hopefully, I’m not on the edge of a bad spell! If I’m still having anxiety at this point in my life, though, I’m probably going to have it all my life no matter what. It’s OK as long as I get some breaks from it. I just would have preferred more than three months.

Now I’m left to wonder about all the possible causes. Could it be that my body’s not used to having its TSH this low? If that’s the case, will it get used to it? Also. How long will this spell last? Days? Weeks? Months?

sighs with frustration Really, I don’t want to play this game again. I just don’t. In fact, I absolutely refuse to. Tomorrow I’m gonna wake up and I’m gonna feel fine all day. I really am.

MONDAY, JULY 11, 2022 Ferociously loud thunder that made Tom jump out of his skin, as he said, woke me up after just 4.5 hours of sleep. 90 minutes later I got another few hours. We went to the store shortly after I got up.

I kind of like golfing with others while he’s sleeping. It just fascinates me that I can play golf with anyone, anytime, anywhere in the world. It’s also interesting to see who I end up with. The last time was a girl (age?) named Makenzee and she was good because she never said a word. The second time I got stuck with a 13-year-old boy who was friendly but distracting because he never shut up and was waving his club around so I quietly exited the game without a word.

I’m a little surprised parents let their kids mingle with strangers even if it’s in VR. What if I was some psychosexual predator saying all kinds of nasty things to him? How do the parents know their kids aren’t going to hear anything they shouldn’t be hearing?

I forgot to say that I asked Toni if she got the Hooter and she said she did. Makes me wonder if they skipped our house accidentally or on purpose. Most likely it’s accidentally and I’m just being paranoid.

SUNDAY, JULY 10, 2022 I could definitely give up candy and wine, but can only stand to not go out for so many days in a row. Well, the only place we can really go is to run up to the store to grab something like that since we have our groceries delivered and don’t have any need to go anywhere else at the moment. Yes, I could do without the empty calories, but where else do we go when we don’t have appointments or a specific store to go to? Oh, the hardships of the retired, LOL. So those quick runs to CVS or Walgreens for little treats are always nice. I will, however, discipline myself more when I go on a diet. There’s just no point in starting until my thyroid settles in. At that time, we’ll have to figure out some other place to go. Where could we go for a short time that doesn’t cost a lot of money or involve getting treats?

So anyway, I’m not feeling anxious, but I’m feeling a little blah tonight. I’m sure that getting out tomorrow as we plan to do will help.

For some reason, we never got the Hooter, so Tom picked up a copy on his way to pay the water bill. He said it rained pretty hard on and off and there was a moderate amount of thunder.

They do regular bingo every other Tuesday and bicycle bingo on the Tuesdays that they don’t do regular bingo. I have no idea what bicycle bingo is. Thanks to my fucking schedule, I won’t be making it to the regular bingo anytime soon.

When I got up and was about to take my pill, I saw what I thought was a curled piece of dirt or grass on the mat in front of the door. Once I put my glasses on, I could see all the legs and realized it was a centipede. I had him come out and kill it. Apparently, the creepy bastard can hear because the louder I yelled the more it tried to run. Fortunately, we just bombed and it was dying, so it wasn’t very fast. I looked it up and Florida centipedes are generally not harmful to humans, but they do pack a painful bite because of the toxins they have. Tom’s seen them in the laundry room.

I’m doing the last of the rides on this month’s VZ challenge. I like how the challenges don’t run every single day so I have a chance to do other rides that aren’t connected to the challenges. There were seven or eight rides by the staff and I’m doing Robert’s Yosemite ride right now, which is the longest. He’s VZ’s COO. I’m very active in the group and he reacts and comments on some of my posts. Unlike Replika, VZ has some of the friendliest and most helpful devs I’ve ever met. Their rides have ranged from just over a mile to Robert’s which is the longest at 147 miles.

So, I still love riding the world. When I was little, I had a little toy car you sit in and use your feet to run along the ground to move it. There was a path between my parents and grandparents’ houses, which were a few hundred feet apart. I used to love riding my little car up and down the path which was my “road” at the time. To me, VZ is the grown-up version of that!

I’m watching The UnXplained on Netflix, which is hosted by William Shatner. It’s a fascinating series that really makes you think hard. Throughout my life, I’ve bounced between being sure there is an afterlife to being sure there isn’t to not knowing what to think. Some of the stories definitely make you wonder if the many people who have sworn to have gone through tunnels and ended up in beautiful, colorful places after having near-death experiences simply had common hallucinations or if there’s more to it than we understand.

What is consciousness? I can kind of see where the thoughts we think aren’t part of our physical beings. But is our body really just a temporary vessel for our consciousness? Or maybe the people are making these stories up for attention. But then maybe they’re not. Maybe they really believe they saw what they saw, but it wasn’t real. I guess we’re all gonna find out sooner or later.

Another interesting thing - and I saw a movie based on a true story about a woman’s experience - is how those who receive organ transplants often take on the personalities and interests of their donors. I guess it has something to do with them acquiring their DNA.

It almost makes me wish I could have an NDE and get an organ transplant, LOL, just so I can see what kind of interests or behavioral traits I may develop.

The current horse analysis is that tweaking the program just because he has a couple of losing days might not be the way to go. He may have to lose half the time and win half the time to slowly profit. If he can do this consistently for a couple of months, then he’ll increase the bets. It’s easy for me to say he’s just dreaming but I don’t know anymore. Look how long I thought escaping the anxiety was just a dream. I just hope to hell I really have escaped it!

SATURDAY, JULY 9, 2022 We’ve now been in Florida for one year! Florida has some interesting wildlife. Better than the ugly turkeys and the smelly skunks we had to deal with all the time in NorCal. A turtle came to visit us during yesterday’s storm. Tom got some great pics and even a video of it.

I will only be taking three more of the 75 micrograms and then it’s just 88 micrograms of levothyroxine for me! I really hope it’s enough as I was told. I forgot that this drug accumulates in the system, so that’s why my TSH was lower than I expected it to be. It might take time for any weight to come off if it ever does.

I don’t want to jinx things and get too far ahead of myself, but it excites and amazes me to think that my anxiety story could finally have an end. It really seemed so hopeless for so many years! But I didn’t know in 2014 when this shit first started that the answer was nearly 8 years and 3000 miles away. I likely would have killed myself if I’d known I was going to suffer that long. If I’d had a bottle of lorazepam at certain times, I wonder if I would have had the strength to resist downing the entire bottle when I was at my worst. I’m glad I’ll never have to find out!

THURSDAY, JULY 7, 2022 I have quite an update, but I want to go in order of events. I forgot to mention yesterday that I damn near fell flat on my face in BK. They had a long mat running along their soda machines. One edge was pulled up so my foot got caught in it, but luckily I was able to catch myself on the soda counter. It was so loud too, me smacking the metal counter. The guy behind the main counter felt bad and he came and straightened the mat out by pulling the end of it.

We went to my dentist so I could get more fluoride toothpaste. They didn’t have the MI Paste for $25, so instead, I got Previ-Dent for $10. It’s a bigger tube with more fluoride, so it might be better for me.

We stopped at KFC on the way home and their French fries were horrible. Way too salty and too soggy. I just can’t acquire a taste for salt. The chicken was still good.

As we were passing Steve’s place - at least I think it was Steve’s place - there was an older guy who might be the guy who lives across from Toni and next to Steve sitting out front by himself. I waved to him and I’m pretty sure he saw me yet he never waved back. Does he know something he shouldn’t? Like the fact that I complained about the dog? It’s been nothing but radio silence from the office, so yeah, I’d say Steve’s well-connected.

But why would the guy be sitting by himself at Steve’s place if it’s who I think it was? Maybe Steve ran inside for a second, and maybe he really didn’t see me, IDK. I’m not worried about it.

So we got home, ate our food, and then I got an e-mail alert. I logged in to the site it was for and then I let out a howl. A loud one. Tom came running to see what it was all about and found me pointing to my screen with a stunned expression on my face, eyes beginning to water with tears of joy. The TSH I thought would be 11.50 is actually 8.44. Just a few more points to go! And I have no anxiety whatsoever.

It gets better. My glucose was normal and so was my white blood cell count. My red blood cell count was very slightly elevated, but that was probably because I was dehydrated. All the other tests were normal. Once again, I suspect that some of the fatigue was connected to my waiting time before having coffee after taking my meds. I seem to be perking up again since I started waiting an hour. Some of it is still on the thyroid, though. I asked if I could still have symptoms, and yes, you can, even if you’re numbers are slightly elevated. Normal is roughly between 3-5. Also, they think that they can get my numbers normal with just the 88s!

So pretty damn exciting day to see myself getting healthier and healthier. TSH, I’m gonna walk you home! Yes, I’m gonna get you there. I’m so close now too. At the same time, I’m trying not to get my hopes up despite things looking more promising than ever. It’s just that I’ve been there before thinking this is it, I beat the anxiety. However, things really are different this time around. This time around, I’m not only postmenopausal, but I’m slowly titrating up my dose. Just like the doctor should have done 8 years ago.

The only thing that’s probably still pretty bad is my cholesterol, but I don’t know. Being hypo raises cholesterol, so in addition to me having the gene that causes high cholesterol, it might still be under 300 now with my TSH being lower.

It was a year ago yesterday that we walked out of the Citrus Heights house and I’ve never missed it. Some of the extra space and the walks around the park perhaps, but nothing else. I love it here and this place is way better, even if it’s not perfect. Been hearing thunder every day and sometimes we get rain with it. Things are definitely pretty green here now.

Chatted with Jess, but Doc A hasn’t yet seen the quick update I left her.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 6, 2022 It hit me that I really ought to take my own advice. Ever since the SCOTUS overturned Roe, I’ve been hesitant to share much of my life, thoughts, beliefs, experiences, and opinions publicly, knowing that sooner or later, writing and speech are going to be targeted. Meanwhile, I’ve been insisting that the way to stand up to crazy is to defy it and not give in to it, meaning that doctors and nurses should continue caring for their patients as they’re sworn to do and not listen to what any twisted laws say. I do believe that sometimes you need to do what’s right and not what the law says. Technically, any doctor who doesn’t fully treat their patients as the SCOTUS demands is aiding and abetting evil. Crazy only keeps on getting crazier if you give in to it and you let crazy push you around.

So then why have I run from public view? Well, I’m not anymore because I don’t give a shit. I don’t give a shit anymore about the SCOTUS. I don’t give a shit anymore about the laws. I don’t give a shit about anything but living my life and allowing others to do the same. I’m not doing anything wrong and I’m not about to let my speech be trampled on any more than I would let anyone tell me I had to have a baby I didn’t want to have if I was in that situation.

While I’m on the topic of speaking out, I did just that in my own name about Steve’s mutt. I watched it go on and on while he was getting the golf cart ready. That seems to be when I hear it the most. The little fucker gets all excited about going riding. Well, I don’t want to hear it anymore so I spoke up. Yes, they could be friends with Steve and they could retaliate, but I’ll take my chances because that’s what life is about…taking chances. And as someone once told me, there would never be any chance for change for the better if no one ever spoke up. I just don’t know if it will do any good even if they don’t spite me for it.

Went to the lab this morning and had no trouble getting blood drawn. Women usually do a better job than men, so it’s a good thing that most phlebotomists are women.

Stopped at Burger King on the way back. I’m slowly scaling back on my guilty pleasures. We don’t eat out often to begin with, but because we’re going out tomorrow to get some more fluoride toothpaste from my dentist we’ll probably stop at KFC along the way. I’ve been craving them for a while. But my 3 guilty pleasures are coffee, candy, and wine. I’m cutting back on the candy because I am pre-diabetic and I definitely don’t want to become diabetic. So I figure getting rid of sugar will help. Once I get my thyroid numbers as ideal as I can, I will be cutting out the wine and making one last-ditch effort to lose weight. I’m going to keep the coffee though.

I decided I’m finally done publishing books on Amazon whether or not it’s my own name or a pen name. They never paid me for book sales I’ve made over the last few months! So I said fuck it and pulled everything off their shelves. I’m not going to be a free library. Sharing stories for free on my story account is one thing. Not being paid while others profit is another. I swear I am so not meant to make money! ☹

MONDAY, JULY 4, 2022 It occurred to me that I haven’t heard firecrackers. Turns out that’s only because I’ve been asleep when they’ve been going on. Tom’s heard them for a few days now, and I just heard one. It can’t be nearly as bad as it was in Cali, though! It was horrible there.

Since protesting seems to be America’s favorite pastime, some are protesting the July 4th holiday saying what independence? What independence do we supposedly have when women have been stripped of the rights to their own bodily anatomy? It’s fucked up but people have got to learn to live with it since it’s not going to change for decades and when it does, it will eventually be back to the way things are now or worse. People’s rights are gonna be bounced back and forth like a basketball for as long as humans exist. Meanwhile, there are still states where it’s legal, there are pills, and other methods. I just wish more doctors and nurses would stand up to these fuckers (SCOTUS) and take care of their patients like they’re trained to do. It really is important to stand up to and defy crazy. If you don’t, crazy just gets crazier. What’s the point of being a doctor if you can’t fully do your job? Or you don’t.

I love that the SCOTUS is getting fed up with the chaos going on outside their homes, but that’s not good enough for them. They need to be shown a better example of what can and should happen to those who play God with other people’s lives and bodies. Sadly, this won’t be happening, though. There’s a US Marshall standing every few feet apart all around their houses. But if the protesters can get themselves to their houses, why can’t drive by shooters? Where are all the martyrs when you need them? The people willing to go to jail to help right a wrong.

sighs Lots of shootings tonight. But hey, guns have more rights than women.

Heard a few barks from the dog today and a few yesterday. It seems that nowadays most of what I’m hearing is the damn thing getting all excited to go with Steve on the golf cart. I still worry about when the weather is cooler and windows are open.

There’s quite a bit of thunder going on now, so I’m glad I’m not asleep yet. But will it bring any rain? It seems we’ve had some rather dry storms lately.

Woke up after 6 hours of sleep after being up 20 hours and was exhausted, as expected. Luckily, I was able to go back to sleep for over an hour. When I got up, I was amazed to find I had the energy I rarely have and I cleaned most of the house. I spent over 4 hours on it.

My Co Q10 should arrive tomorrow. I also got a pink wide-brimmed hat with a ponytail holder. It’s identical to the brown hat I got in Hawaii that has a drawstring tie around the neck for when it’s windy. That one doesn’t have a ponytail holder, though. This hat should be good for when we do nature walks in the winter.

Because the satin sheets are a little big for this mattress, we got something that secures them to the mattress better.

SUNDAY, JULY 3, 2022 Tom said he was beginning to wonder if my curse was true because everything that could go wrong yesterday with the horses went wrong. He lost 30 bucks. As I told him, I was sorry to hear that, but I’m not surprised. I always knew the horses were just a dream. We’re not meant to have a lot of money. I just don’t know why or what, if anything, is behind it. Does it just happen to not be meant to be just because or is there something up there making sure that it’s not meant to be?

This is very likely our forever home, so when we plan home improvements and upgrades, we should consider that. I don’t think it will do any good, but after the AC is paid off we should decide what room I’m going to settle in and have it soundproofed. I would prefer to do the whole house actually, excluding the lanai of course. That would be the time to do the floors too.

But yeah, I really think this is it from a logical standpoint. We would never do this and this is just a hypothetical example of course, but if we sold this place and stayed in a hotel until we ran out of money, we would never be able to get a house again anywhere. Especially with him not working. So it’s not so much a curse as that it’s simply not meant to be. My sleep issues…that’s a curse! If my fatigue really is mostly connected to the thyroid, that and the fact that there doesn’t seem to be any change in my metabolism tells me I’m still way out of range.

Slept okay for the most part, but woke up tired as usual. Because there was no thunder or power failure to use against me, I had to have a nightmare instead where we were soon to be killing ourselves. It was weird too because he didn’t seem sick or upset and neither did I. It was simply something we were going to do and had to do just like we have to go grocery shopping and stuff like that. What was even stranger was that we got rid of most of our stuff beforehand. I wasn’t going to, but I knew he would be pissed if I suddenly changed my mind since we’d already made plans and given up our stuff.

Galileo just sent some helpful tips on blood pressure, most of which I already was aware of like the Mediterranean diet and things like that. But here’s something I didn’t know. There are natural supplements that can help blood pressure, since I turned down medication, and CoQ10 is one of them. They said to let them know if I’m interested in that and to keep track of my BP once or twice a week. They’ll check in with me in a month for those results.

First I gotta see if I can wake up today. 7 hours and 14 minutes of sleep, 88 sleep score, and I’m tired.

The nuts I’m getting this morning will be the last time I get them because they are lightly salted. The nuts need to be raw. For the Mediterranean or DASH diet, it’s basically very little salt, no processed stuff, no pastries, no snacks, no chips, no candy. In other words, Tom wouldn’t even last a day on this diet because it’s mostly fish, veggies, fruits, nuts, beans, legumes, whole grains, and a little dairy, pasta and rice. The bagels I’m getting are all wrong too LOL. At least I didn’t get any processed stuff! I did get a candy bar, though.

When my wine is gone, I will give that up for a long time. Read that high blood pressure is also implicated in earlier onset and worsening progression of Alzheimer’s disease and vascular dementia and I swear I have been so brain-dead lately! I’ve been putting the wrong diamonds in the wrong places more often when diamond painting, I’ve been forgetting that I preheated the oven, and all kinds of other things.

They recommend a minimum of 2000 milligrams of salt, whole grains, vegetables, and less saturated fats and sugar (DASH or Mediterranean diet).

Exercise five days a week for 20 minutes, and two of those days with resistance.

Limit alcohol and try to lose weight.

Meditation.

Natural supplements are EPA DHA CoQ10 and garlic.

I could definitely do most of these, except I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to lose weight. As we know, not everybody gets weight loss from diet and exercise. I don’t stand a chance with my TSH where it’s at right now. But for starters, I will focus on what I’m eating and count calories later. Glad that Bowflex is finally set up and that we didn’t sell it after all!

He wasn’t kidding when he said you can hear so much noise out in the lanai compared to the house. You can hear everything and I mean everything. As soon as we stepped out into it, I heard other dogs. Steve’s dog would be very loud in there because it has a loud bark and can easily be heard throughout the house. There’s another one around here that barks regularly, but it’s not too annoying. It’s further away and not as loud.

Since my legs and part of my arms get most of the workout when I’m doing VZfit, I’m going to focus on my core, biceps, and triceps when using the Bowflex.

My HR is doing OK today. Yesterday it spiked to around 100 for a while even though I didn’t have anything greasy or sugary.

SATURDAY, JULY 2, 2022 Yesterday we decided to bomb the place after all. First, a spider jumped out and scared the shit out of me, and we have a lot of little flying bugs due to the humidity. We only had to be out for two hours, so we drove around and then ended up at BK.

Someone was definitely next door as Tom noticed someone painting their carport the other day. They also shut their bathroom window.

Anyway, I was a little jittery but it was my own fault for indulging in a wee bit too much fudge. So my heart was a little racy yesterday and I felt warm. And then the fatigue set in big time. Even though I only slept 5 hours yesterday, I started off with decent enough energy. In the middle of my day, though, it started hitting me.

Finally fed up with the extreme fatigue that’s been worse for about a year now, I decided to let Galileo in on it. They made a new case for that as well as for hypertension. They asked me to take some blood pressure readings for them and I did. It was probably high, though, because of the stress and extra sodium. I told them it’s usually lower when I wake up and that my old doctor decided against blood pressure medication because she felt it would make me dizzy since my readings are better at the beginning of my day. Plus, there’s the medication phobia. Yes, that’s gotten better, but I’m still prone to side effects, whether I like it or not and I don’t want to go on medication at this time.

They asked if I had ever partaken in a sleep study because they wondered if I could have sleep apnea. I told them no and that it would be hard for me to get meaningful results in a sleep study because of my unique sleeping situation where I have trouble falling asleep and have to sleep with the sound machine on. I guess I might be able to do one eventually at home if it doesn’t cost too much, but I doubt I have sleep apnea. Tom pointed out there’s a thing on Fitbit that measures your oxygen rate in your sleep. It’s a graph in which blue is better than orange. I only had a few orange peaks. Nothing that smacks of an unhealthy trend.

They asked about snoring, and I do snore, but lightly. I’m not like Tom where you can hear it through walls. Thunder didn’t wake me up as expected last night, but a power failure woke me up. It was the second one we had, too. The first one happened when I was awake. I hope I’m not going to get as many wake-up calls from that as I do from thunder. Anyway, I woke up the instant the power went out and I did notice that yes, I was softly snoring.

I also filled out some standard questionnaires and was asked about alcohol consumption and whether or not I’ve ever had any EKG or stress test. I told them I had both in 2016 and then they asked about anyone having serious heart issues before the age of 50 in my family. I told them about my father and the fact that one of my grandfathers died of a heart attack at just over 50.

They’re going to be sending me to the lab. They want to check my TSH and also my iron levels and look for antibodies that could indicate either infections or inflammation. It will be interesting to see what my TSH is which I’d guess is 11-point-whatever.

I don’t have a guess as to what could be causing my fatigue, but I don’t think it’s serious. I want to say it’s my TSH but then why didn’t I have such fatigue when I was first diagnosed? I was so tired that I slept for nearly 10 hours and got a good sleep score. As usual, though, I didn’t wake up feeling that refreshed.

I’m just so glad I have Galileo to exchange all this information with. I could never have done this through a portal with a regular doctor/patient setup.

So I peeled off the nail stickers from my big toes expecting quite a mess underneath, but nope. The lacquer really does kill fungus. My fingernails have me completely mystified though. I still see redness and I still have sensitivity where the fingertip meets the nail. If it was just a chemical reaction, wouldn’t it be better by now? But I don’t see how a fungus or infection of any kind could spring up that fast either. I still have plenty of lacquer on hand and tons of refills, though, if it doesn’t go away.

After Burger King (I only got hash browns) we stopped at Walgreens. I got some wine but no treats. I’ve had enough sugar. Since we still had time to kill, we sat in the driveway for a while. The humidity gives all the houses a drenched look as if it just finished raining. Once the sun comes up, it dries it up.

I came up with a cover story to have Mia contact Nane, but she never replied to the message. I’m sure she saw it, even though I can’t see that she did. I said… I believe we could be related. My father was Robert L and was married to my mother for 20 years. Somewhere during the marriage, he took up with a mistress. Although I can’t get my mother to talk about it, he supposedly started a family with this woman until he died of a heart attack in her bed. They had two daughters, Vivian and Marion. They would be in their 50s or 60s today. I live in New Mexico, but his mistress is from Europe. I was never told which country, but seeing the German writing on your profile makes me wonder if it could be you. The name and the age in your photos look right as well.

I don’t know if she suspects I’m behind the account. I added some religious memes and chose a royalty cover photo of a Hispanic-looking woman with three kids. There is a hand holding beach shells for the profile picture.

I’m now unsure as far as the termite goes. I went through everything that’s public and she has shit spanning back to 2010. Of course, one of the posts had to be the photos she took of me when we visited her that I specifically asked that she not make public, but I don’t care at this point. Most of what’s public is the usual shit she would post. Self-comforting memes, memes about being screwed over, praise for the Sarasite, her mommy and Daddy in heaven, the angels that watch over her, etc.

It could be that she’s had this stuff public all along and didn’t recently make it public, but I just never noticed when we were connected. I didn’t have another account to look in on her as I had no reason to. I also wouldn’t notice if she’s allowed anyone to comment on her posts all along. So she still might not have seen the message and might not have recently changed any settings.

I can’t get rid of the pictures she took and shared, but I really wish there was a way to get rid of all comments and likes between a person. I don’t understand why they’re showing up since I’ve blocked her. Blocking is supposed to delete all likes and comments from the person, but apparently, it doesn’t. That’s fucking Facebook for you. It’ll take time, but I could slowly go through my activity log and delete some things.

FRIDAY, JULY 1, 2022 I’m going to be sending Galileo a message letting them know I’ve been doing well as far as anxiety goes and am starting just one 75 a week, with the rest being 88. While I’m at it, I’m going to mention the fatigue. I’ll explain that I’ve been having trouble falling asleep and staying asleep more often, not waking up refreshed most days, and see what they say.

It’s strange how I could sleep 8 hours two days ago and felt tired the first few hours of my day while I just got up from 5 hours of sleep and I feel more rested.

I love it when I remember enough of my dreams to write about them, even if they’re not good. Tom and I were living in a tiny house somewhere. There was just one room on one side and a bathroom and a kitchenette on the other. I slept on a twin bed along the back wall and he had a twin bed along the side wall.

A young woman in her 20s or 30s whom we had met previously came to the door while he was asleep. I let her in, even though I wasn’t sure I liked her very much. She just didn’t seem all there. She stayed briefly and then returned later. At this time, she lay down on my bed and pulled the comforter over her head. Then she started nonstop rambling about everything and nothing. I could clearly see she was bipolar, paranoid, and delusional. At one point she mentioned something about having to train me. Sick of listening to it and having no tolerance for the mentally ill any more than rude people, I said I had been up since 4 in the morning and asked her to leave, which she did.

I also had a dream about Johnson for the first time in ages. She and I were having a friendly chat and she told me she would marry me in 10 to 15 years. She knew I was still with Tom and in her mind, she may have thought he would be gone then.

Realizing she never told me her first name as she was walking away, I called out “Rachel!” to see if she would turn around. She didn’t, though.

Too bad I could never find her on Facebook. I don’t harbor any hard feelings anymore and I would love to say hello and see how her life has been even though I’m sure she wouldn’t reply whether or not she blocked me. I realize that as far as her blowing me off, that’s just how people are, not that people shouldn’t keep their word unless they have a good excuse not to.

I’ve only heard the dog once in the last few days, but I think that’s because I haven’t been around in the mid-afternoon to early evening when it seems to be heard the most. I heard a few barks yesterday, but nothing too loud or annoying. Still dread it when the weather cools down and people open their windows. I know I’m gonna hear the damn thing bark every time someone goes into the kitchen and it gets all excited in anticipation of being fed or when someone comes to the door or they go out somewhere and leave the mutt home.

My nails aren’t quite as sensitive after what I suspect was a chemical burn from the gel remover, but I do have discoloration. Not the yellow and brownish discoloration I had from the fungus, but more like a red irritated look. It extends from the middle of the nails to the tips. Hopefully, it will grow out and I’ll be as good as new again. I’m not doing anything else to my nails for a while.

Mrs. Twenties still says it’s been quieter there “for some reason” and that still bugs me, even though I know it can’t be as quiet as it is here. Not when you’re on a busy street in a big city. And like the trash collectors are suddenly using the smaller, quieter trucks they use here where a guy jumps off the back to grab the trash and they’re in and out? I wouldn’t be surprised if there were fewer planes and projects, though. I’ve been up for an hour and I’ve already heard four planes as late as it is.

She says the only dog she sometimes hears is Melody’s. Figures Gerry would shut her dog up after we leave.

It hit me as I was falling asleep that the termite could have allowed public comments sooner or later than she started making more things public. I remember having Aly check her account because I was curious if she made anything public about me and she couldn’t see much of anything. So yeah, she could have started allowing comments from anyone right after I sent the messages. Discovering this gives me a little more hope that the messages really did go through and were seen. Well, I knew they went through because I saw that much. I just had no way to tell if Facebook blocked them from being able to view the messages, or if they didn’t get them. As funny as it may sound, I really do hope her allowing public comments is because of me, LOL. There’s just something amusing about her doing this in hopes of “getting” me and me knowing she’ll never get what she wants. If I knew Tom and I were about to die, I would certainly leave a message, even though there still wouldn’t be anything she could do about it from a legal standpoint. I just wouldn’t want Tom to find out about it somehow so that’s why I’m quiet for now.

I’m still a little surprised she would risk embarrassing herself with what I may say about her, but I guess hoping to get me is worth whatever that may be. There are plenty of people out there willing to spite themselves to spite others. My guess is she’s either hoping I’ll write something she can legally use against me or she wants me to reach out so she can reply with “sensitive,” false and nasty “info.” Something like, “You’ve been in jail. You’ve been in funny farms. You’re going to be arrested,” as if that would really hurt, LOL.

As I said, I would gladly return the trolling as immature as it may be and as much as I’d be stooping to their level if it weren’t for Tom. I would just keep it legal. She really could have gotten her ass in trouble for threatening me in a recording in her own voice. She only did it because she knew I wouldn’t bother to waste time reporting her. It was still a daring but bold move on her part. A stupid one too.

Damn the fucking motorcycles blazing by the park! I know it’s Friday night but still. It’s the middle of the night. Have some fucking respect.

[imthebadguyyy]

maybe something like interviewer asking her sexist questions and the boys stand up for her , after that interview she feels insecure and the boys comfort her . that's just an idea you don't have to write it !! <33

I hope you like it, and I'm so sorry about the delay 😭 I couldn't find my footing with this one, and I hope it's what you wanted ! Have a lovely day 💙

The One Where They're There For Her

Pairing - One Direction x Reader (6thmember!female!reader)

Fandom - One Direction (Directioners)

Summary - A particularly sexist interview decides to reduce you to just a sexual being and makes no effort to hide his misogyny. But the boys are there to support you.

Warnings - sexualization of the lgbt community, sexist comments, swearing, (honestly I hated myself for writing some of the comments here,and I'm so sorry)

Being a part of the biggest band in the world comes with certain responsibilities. Not responsibilities that come along with signing a recording contract, but those that a person deems themselves responsible for. For example, as the only female in a boyband, a female with a fanbase as large as yours, you took it upon yourself to always stand up for what's right, and to be an ally for the causes close to your heart.

That meant that your social media was often flooded with information about important causes, or your opinions on issues like feminism. Was it always well received? Heck no. There were people filled your feed with hate and comments calling you the most horrible names and labelling you a 'man hater' and a 'bitch' But you didn't let it get to you. On most days. On days like today, it was all you could do to keep it together. It had been a tiring few days, touring, recording, performing and doing an endless amount of interviews and photoshoots. It was safe to say you were on the last of your nerves, having battled your way through a makeup artist who had insisted on pointing out your flaws and had used a shit ton of makeup to cover them up. You had battled a photographer who had not hesitated to tell you that if you didn't look more feminine people would think you were turning into a man.

Before you could retaliate, Paul had dragged him away and told management to cancel the photoshoot, and find another photographer before grabbing the six of you some sandwiches and had let you all go back for a quick power nap at the hotel. Then in about half an hour he had woken you up, to get you ready for another interview. That's how you were here, in a white jumpsuit and a black blazer jacket, paired with black heels. Another day, another interviewer that got on your nerves. But this one, this one was different. This interviewer was different, but also the same. Another misogynistic man who thought he was entitled to stare at your ass and cleavage, and eye fuck you as you settled into a seat in between Niall and Zayn.

Settling in, you crossed one knee over the other, plastering a fake smile onto your face, as the man leaned back in his chair, throwing you a sleazy smirk. Noticing the look, Zayn shifted so you were out of view of the interviewer, but in view of the audience. It was in moments like this that you were a 100× more grateful to have your boys. They were well aware of how sleazy some interviewers could be, having had plenty of experience with them, and Zayn and Louis in particular were very protective about the way you were treated. Squeezing your thigh softly, he leaned back a little, lips settling into a thin line as he looked at the interviewer with a cold look. A little behind, Louis threw the interviewer a dirty look.

"So, One Direction! Congratulations on the album, as you all know its out on November the 22nd, with eighteen new songs, including the singles Night Changes and Steal My Girl Speaking of stealing girls, do you think I could steal your number Y/N? And may I mention, you look ver, very hot in that outfit" The interviewer joked, throwing you what he thought was a sexy smirk. (P.S - it wasn't) Answering with an awkward laugh, you shook your head, as Niall tensed up beside you. "Aww come on, your'e a pretty girl, I'm a handsome guy, let's go out sometime" he pressed on, ignoring the growing anger in Harry's eyes. "That's umm, nice. But no thanks, I'm not going to go out with you" was your answer, as you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Picking up on your nervous tic, Zayn moved his hand to rest on your knee, stopping it from bouncing up and down.

"Aww come on baby, what is it? You like girls or something? Because I wouldn't mind being a part of that action either" the sleazebag chuckled, ignoring the disgusted look Liam sent his way. "That's rude" Liam said, while Zayn tightened his grip on your knee. "Oh come on lads, are you telling me the idea doesn't appeal to you? Two women together, mm, makes me all excited just thinking about it, especially if one of them's Y/N" That comment was all it took for Louis to stand up, turning to the man and saying in a voice much rougher than his usual voice, "Alright, that's fuckin' enough, what the fuck is actually wrong with you?" he was backed up by Liam, who stood up, going to tower over the interviewer, whose eyes had lost some of the sleazy look in them. "All you've done since we walked in here is make those disgusting comments about Y/N, and it's sickening. Have some fucking respect" he practically spat.

Behind him, Zayn took your hand in his and pulled you to your feet, noticing the slight glossiness in them, leading you back to the dressing rooms, while Niall, Liam, Louis and Harry stayed back to continue to snap at the interviewer. "That is no way to treat a woman, and not only are you disrespecting her, you also made those god awful events about seeing women together. Your'e a shame to every single person in this room by talking like that" Harry continued, glancing over his shoulder to check if you were okay.

"And no, it doesn't excite us, because we are not assholes, and you are, a disgusting sleaze who does not deserve the job he has. Fuckin loser" Niall chimed in, standing up and storming out. Louis stood up as well, turning to directly face the cameras and the cameramen and sound technicians, who had all looked shocked when the man had made his comments towards you. "I sure as hell hope you have that on record, so you can see just how fucking sexist this industry is to women. Y/N does the same job as us, works just as hard and has the same number of awards, nominations, and records and yet you decide to only focus on her body, clothes, love life and sexuality. Get a fucking life" he spat at the camera, before walking away himself, eventually followed by Harry and Liam, who apologized to the outraged fans before leaving themselves. As they made their way to the dressing rooms they could hear the audience telling the interviewer to apologize to you, their anger at the way you were treated echoing through the building.

Walking in, Harry caught sigh of you curled up in one of the armchairs, with Louis sitting beside you, while Niall and Zayn talked to a furious Paul. "He had no damn right to treat her like shite, and you need to make sure that he knows those comments were un-fuckin-acceptable" Niall was saying, looking angrier than Harry had ever seen him. "And to make those sickening comments about wanting to get action? Can't we sue him for something?" Was Zayn's reply, glancing over his shoulder at you to make sure you were still okay. "We can't sue him, atleast I don't think we can, but I'll have someone let the smug bastard know that he needs to learn how to respect a woman" Paul said, before leaving the room to give the six of you some time together before you had to head back to the hotel.

"How're you feeling darling?" Louis said, moving over and patting your knee so you moved. "I'm okay" you mumbled back, letting Louis settle in next to you, leaning back to rest on his chest. "He had no fuckin right to say any of that, and don't you let it trouble you for a second" Zayn added, pouring out a cup of tea for you and for Louis and Harry. "I don't care about what he said, I couldn't care less, but it was just so frustrating, sitting there and listening to him just sexualize a whole community of people. You've got to be in a really sad place to think of shit like that. That's what annoyed me. You think I give a damn about what he said about my clothes or wanting to take me out on a date? It was the way he was talking, like he was sure any woman would be glad to have him that irked me. He's really tiresome" was your reply, as you reached forward for a sip of your tea. "That's the right attitude love. Haters gonna hate" Harry said.

"I know that. But I just wish I could punch him once, which sounds mean, but he does kind of deserve it" Niall said, earning a laugh from you. Niall was never usually aggressive, and even now, he wasn't particularly rude but it was rare to see him wanting to punch someone. "It's okay Niall, you don't have to. I can do it myself, but I won't" you replied, leaning up to squeeze his hand. "Besides, Ni, if you went and punched him, I'd do it too, and then we'd all go to jail" Liam chimed in, scrolling through his twitter. "Twitter isn't happy either babe. #stopsexualization and #Y/Ndeservesbetter is trending already" he added, showing you his phone. "If it means some of these sexist asses get their heads out of the sand, I'm happy. But I dont want to to think about it now" you replied, cuddling closer to the warmth radiating from Louis's body.

"Okay, we won't talk about it. Do you want to go back to the hotel?" Harry asked, standing up and walking to the door "No I want to go to Nando's. Anybody else hungry?" You asked, to nods of assent from the boys. "I'm starving. Those stupid sandwiches didn't fill me up at all" Zayn said, standing up to grab his coat and wallet. "I know and I'm craving some hot Peri Peri chicken with some fries. Do you think they'd let me put the lemon and herb sauce on the fries?" You asked, standing up yourself, earning a laugh from Louis. "Your'e an international superstar babe, I think they'd give you some lemon herb sauce" Liam joked.

Laughing, the six of you made your way to the car, with Harry and Niall squishing you in between them, as Louis sat in the back with Liam, and Zayn sat in the front with Paul (he was driving thank GOD) "I'm proud of you darling" Harry chimed in suddenly. "I am too" Niall added. "You know I am" Louis said, before Liam added "Always babe" and Zayn turned to smile at you before adding, "We are all proud of you, and we always will be, not only because you do a damn good job of not listening to the haters, but because you do what you think is right" "Awh come on, your'e gonna make me cry" you mumbled, leaning into Niall's shoulder. "Almost makes me feel bad for teasing you about having an extremely low spice tolerance the last time we were at Nando's Haz" you smirked, earning a roar of laughter from the boys.

"That chicken was spicy love!" "It was lemon and herb with no peri peri!" "And it was spicy!"

And just like that, you were back to messing around with each other. Sleazy interviewers would come and go, but your boys were always there to support you. Always.

-------

A/N - Thanks for reading ! I'd also like to apologize on the behalf of this fictitious interviewer I made up, I felt so bad while writing some of this 😭 anyways, I hope this is what you wanted! Enjoy !

Tags - @zaynkissbot @gucci-hazza @bxtchboy69

[peskygirl13]

Twisted Wonderland Dorm Leaders (ft. Ortho) go to Build-a-Bear with MC

The dorm leaders and Ortho (in his brother’s place) go to MC’s world and end up at Build-a-Bear workshop.

Suddenly MC’s peaceful day out turns into watching a bunch of over grown kids.

(I got the idea from this post. This is my first time writing a character gender neutral, so I apologize if there’s any mistakes and be sure to let me know so that I can corrected them.)

“You all are amongst the first people in Twisted Wonderland to ever go to another world. Most people would want to see the sights, look around, see the landmarks, learn the history. But no. Ya’ll want to go to the mall.” MC stated, unimpressed.

It’s been a few months since Crowley found a way to return MC to their world and they were able to make it so that they could travel between worlds. During the week they’d stay at NRC for school and every weekend they’d go to their world with their family.

Since then, every once in a while, MC would bring some of the boys with their home since they were interested in their world.

The first years have been several times, usually going every other Saturday, and it was beginning to annoy the dorm leaders because they wanted to spend time with MC go to MC’s world too.

Finally, they got their wish.

Classes were cancelled for a week when Ace, Deuce, and Grim accidentally let in an infestation of pixies and Crowley forced them to fix their mess.

Since classes were cancelled, MC decided to return to their world for the week and the dorm leaders requested to tag along. MC agreed, which brings us too now.

MC was walking around the mall with the herd of boys around their, holding Ortho’s hand as he looked around the mall like an excited puppy. Big, gold eyes trying to take in everything.

Idia was conflicted about going. He was very curious about MC’s world, especially about the video games they had there that were exclusive to their world. Finally, he decided to send Ortho in his stead. Requesting that his brother obtain the games for him and he’d look at the footage of MC’s world when he got back.

Ortho was more than happy to do so. He, as well as Malleus and Leona, had to disguise themselves as humans with a glamour charm.

Anyway, since there were seven boys and they were going to be there for a week, MC let them each have a day where they decided what everyone would do.

First day was Riddle. He decided to go to a pretty garden with a butterfly house and afterwards they went to a nice antique tearoom. They were the youngest people there and the only boys in the entire restaurant, but it was nice.

Second day was Leona’s. MC was a little surprised when he decided to go to the zoo but didn’t think much about it. It wasn’t until the safari tour that they realized their mistake. Long story short, they had to run out of the zoo before security could catch them because somehow, Leona jumped into the lion’s den and got into a fight with the male lion.

Third day was Azul’s. It was a pretty low-key day. He just wanted to go to restaurant to restaurant to get ideas for the Mostro Lounge. But the last restaurant they visited was on the boardwalk, so when Azul was done, they spent the rest of the day at the beach.

Fourth day was Kalim. He asked MC where their favorite place to go in their world was which brought them to the aquarium. They spent the entire day there. Azul was interested in the idea of having an aquarium at the Mostro Lounge. Probably MC’s favorite part of the day was when they went to the otter exhibit and they all seemed drawn to Kalim to the point where the keepers let him feed the otters.

Currently it was day five, Vil’s day.

Vil decided that he wanted to go to the mall and compare the fashions of MC’s world to the ones of Twisted Wonderland, despite MC telling him that there really wasn’t a difference. MC got the sneaking suspicion that Vil just wanted to get clothes that Negie LeBlanche himself wouldn’t be able to get his hands on.

“Hush, potato. And don’t let my bags touch the ground!”

The day felt less of a group outing and more of a ‘holding-Vil’s-bags’ day. MC couldn’t leave Vil alone and the boys couldn’t go anywhere with MC, so they were pretty much stuck carrying Vil’s bags.

Well, most of them at least. Leona flat-out refused to carry anything for the boy.

After the model calmed down a bit, the rest of the trip was far more enjoyable. MC showed them their favorite stores. They brought them to Hot Topic. Kalim and Riddle didn’t really like the ‘edginess’ of the store, but Ortho was excited to find anime shirts for his brother and all the boys were surprised to find some merch of the Great Seven.

Leona bought a shirt with Scar on it that said, “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

They went to Bath and Body Works, where Vil got some scented lotions, perfumes, and soaps and Kalim got coconut bath oils.

Ortho almost went into Spencers because he saw the cartoon shirts up front, but MC was quick to direct him away. MC also made an extra effort to make sure the boys avoided the Disney store.

They made sure to stop at a game store to get Idia some games, but after that they just decided to wander around until they caught sight of something that interested them.

“Hey, big sib,” Ortho pulled on MC’s sleeve, effectively gaining their attention. “What’s that?”

MC looked over to where he was pointing and couldn’t help smiling.

He was pointing at a build-a-bear workshop.

“That’s a build-a-bear workshop, Ortho.” They explained. “You go in and get to make your own stuffed animal. You get to choose which one you want, dress it up, name it, and then you take it home.”

This got the robot boy excited. “Can we go? Can we?!”

MC chuckled at the little boy’s enthusiasm. “Sure.”

“Ah! That sounds so fun!” Kalim cheered, looking as excited as Ortho. “Let’s go!”

He and Ortho raced off towards build-a-bear

“You guys want to join us?” MC asked, turning to the rest of the group.

“It seems childish.” Riddle said. The others made noises of agreement.

“It’s so stupid.” Leona scoffed.

“I have to admit, I don’t really see the appeal.” Azul stated.

Vil nodded. “I have to agree.”

“I’ll give it a try.” Malleus shrugged. MC smiled up at him before looked back at the other dorm leaders.

“C’mon, guys. It’ll be fun.” They coerced.

The hesitant dorm head shared a look before sighing and following MC into build-a-bear where Ortho and Kalim were already picking out the animals.

Vil picked out a peacock.

Riddle grumbled about there not being any hedgehogs or flamingos and ended up selecting a white rabbit.

Kalim flexed his riches on everyone when he picked out an elephant, monkey, and tiger. He also picked out a parrot for Jamil.

MC was currently helping Ortho try and pick one out, but behind them they could hear Leona growling about there not being any lions.

MC turned around and looked at him with a bemused look.

“You’re actually making one?” They asked.

Leona growled at them.

“It’s for Cheka.” He snapped.

“Aww~” MC cooed, “Look at you being a good uncle.”

Leona growled louder and turned back to the bins only to snicker.

“Hey, Herbivore.”

MC turned around to see Leona holding up a cute little lamb with a smug look.

“Look it’s you.”

MC rolled their eyes at him but didn’t get to retort when Ortho grabbed their arm and pulled them away to look at the other animals.

MC glanced back and was mildly surprised when Leona tucked the animal under his arm and walked over to the others who had already selected their animals.

Azul was near where Ortho had pulled MC. He was currently looking at the animals with a deep, thoughtful look on his face.

“Can’t decide?” MC asked.

“There aren’t any I like.” Azul admitted, somewhat frustrated.

“Let me help.” MC offered.

Azul gratefully thanked them, and they rummaged around the bins.

“What about this one?” MC asked.

Azul looked over to see what MC had selected did a double take at the hot pink monstrosity that they were holding up.

“It’s a seahorsicorn!” MC stated, smiling brightly.

“Jade and Floyd will mock me for the rest of my life.” Azul stated plainly.

MC shrugged, handing him the seahorse. “Well, I don’t know what to tell ya. I don’t really see anything else you’d like.”

MC walked away, looking for Ortho who they had lost track of, when Malleus called out for them.

“Child of man, look at this!”

MC looked over at Malleus who was holding up a Toothless plush, looking very excited.

“It’s a dragon!” He exclaimed, excited by the similarities between him and this plush.

“Oh, it’s Toothless!” MC exclaimed, grinning at the sight of the black dragon. Malleus tilted his head.

“Toothless?” He repeated, looking back down at the dragon plush in his hands, trying to figure out how a dragon got that name.

MC giggled at Malleus’s confusion before explaining it to him.

“Toothless is a character from a movie over here called ‘How to Train Your Dragon.’ It’s a really good movie with two sequels.”

Malleus nodded along in understanding before grinning.

“Well, we must watch them before the week is up.” He requested.

MC smiled back with a slight nod. “Sure.”

A loud, drawn out groan emitted from Ortho, bringing MC’s attention to the young boy.

Leaving Malleus, MC made her way to the blue haired boy who was looking at the stuffed animals in front of him.

“Can’t make a decision?” MC asked, but they already knew the answer.

“There’s too many!” Ortho whined. “I also want to get one for big brother.”

MC nodded in understanding. “I understand. How about we pick one out for Idia first.” They suggested.

Ortho seemed to be ok with the idea and they looked around at the plushies. Finally, MC spotted one.

“Hey, Ortho—” The placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and pointed at one of the plushies. “How about that one.”

The one MC pointed at was a Pikachu in the Pokémon section.

“It’s the mascot for one of the games Idia asked us to bring him.” MC suggested.

Ortho smiled, seemingly sold on the idea. “Yeah!”

They grabbed the plush and MC tucked it under their arm before turning back to Ortho. “Alright. Now, let’s pick one out for you.”

They both started looking around again, but Ortho couldn’t seem to find one that he liked.

“Hey, why don’t we dig around in the clearance bins.” MC suggested. “Sometimes they have different ones in them.”

Ortho nodded and they both started digging through the bins. At this point, the others were waiting on them.

MC was starting to give up hope when they heard a triumphant gasp.

Pulling their head out of the bin looked and saw Ortho beside the clearance bin holding up what looked to be an orange cat with pumpkins on it.

MC turned to a nearby employee. “What’s that?” They asked, pointing to the animal Ortho was holding.

“It’s left over from Halloween. We’re trying to get rid of it.” The employee explained.

Ortho practically bounced back to MC, eager to show them his prize.

“Look Big Sib! It has pumpkins on it. It’s like Big Bro’s favorite movie!”

Thinking back to Halloween, MC vaguely remembered Idia talking about a movie he enjoyed with a pumpkin knight.

Crouching down to Ortho’s height MC asked, “Is that the one you want?”

Ortho eagerly nodded his head.

“Alright!” MC announced, clapping their hands and turning to the rest of their group. “Onto the next step.”

Ortho and Kalim both ran to the stuffing machine like hyped up kids while the other walked like normal people.

The employee instructed the boys what to do. Kalim went first, pumping the pedal with his foot to stuff one of his animals. While he did that, Ortho looked around at the voice boxes.

“What’re these, big sib?” Ortho asked, turning to MC.

“They’re recordings.” MC explained, picking a random one and crouching down to Ortho’s level. “You can put them in your stuffed animal and when you squeeze it, it makes plays a recording.”

To demonstrate, MC squeezed the box and it exclaimed, “Happy Birthday.”

Ortho giggled. “That’s cool!”

“You can also make your own recordings.” A nearby employee stated.

This excited Ortho as he turned to MC. “Can I make one for big bro?”

“Sure.” MC agreed.

“That sounds so cool!” MC and Ortho looked over to see Kalim holding three of his plushies, the parrot for Jamil the only one not stuffed. “I know! I’ll make one for Jamil.”

“No.” MC instantly shot the idea down.

“But—”

“Trust me. Jamil will not want that.”

In the end, Ortho was the only one who got a recording. He put it in Idia’s pikachu and it played; “I love you, big brother!” when squeezed.

Once everyone’s animals were stuffed, the employee gave each of them a heart.

“Alright, I need you to put your heart in your palm for me.” The employee instructed. The boys obeyed. MC, knowing what was about to happen, pulled out their phone and started recording.

“I need you to rub your heart warm.” Kalim and Ortho obeyed eagerly. The others were a bit more hesitant.

“Now rub it against your cheeks.” MC had to force back a snicker at the embarrassed looks the boys, other than Kalim and Ortho, were making.

“Now give it a big kiss.” MC almost lost it at this. Kalim and Ortho did it without hesitation, but the others were just like, no.

“Come on, you have to do it otherwise your new friend won’t get any love.” The employee encouraged. MC could tell that she was enjoying this as much as they were.

“Yeah, guys! Give it a kiss!” Kalim encouraged.

“You have to!” Ortho added.

The sour looks on their faces almost made MC forget how expensive this store was when the boys finally kissed the little hearts they were given.

MC was truly blessed to get that on camera.

After that came dress up. MC never felt more empathetic for Jamil in that moment than in their whole life.

Kalim didn’t just want an outfit, oh no. He wanted every outfit he could get his hands on for his new stuffed friends. MC had to be very stern in telling him he could only get one for each animal and that Jamil would definitely not want an outfit for his parrot.

Kalim ended up getting an outfit for each of his animals. Funny thing was, they were the costumes from the Aladdin movie.

His elephant was dressed like the genie, his monkey was dressed like Aladdin, and his tiger was dressed like Jasmine.

MC had to move away before they cracked a rib laughing.

They found Riddle dressing up his new rabbit in a queen of hearts costume and quickly had to move away from him too.

They found Azul with his new seahorsicorn in the hat section with Vil and his new peacock. Azul picked out a fedora for his new friend while Vil picked out a silver crown with a matching necklace.

Malleus and Leona weren’t getting an outfit for their animals, so MC headed over to help Ortho pick out his.

They ended up digging through the clearance bin again and found a skeleton onesie for Ortho’s cat and MC pointed out a Charizard hoodie for Idia’s pikachu.

Once they all picked out their outfits, they headed to the computers to get their adoption certificates.

Riddle named his rabbit Tart.

Leona named his, or Cheka’s, lamb Herbivore (MC tried not to let their irritation show).

Azul named his seahorsicorn Pearl.

Kalim named his elephant Tusker, his monkey Abu (MC’s recommendation), his tiger Pawla, and Jamil’s parrot Iago (also MC’s recommendation).

Vil named his peacock Lapis.

Ortho named his cat Pumpkin and named Idia’s pikachu Zeus.

Finally, Malleus named his Toothless plush Gargoyle.

Bags and house shaped boxes weighed down their arms as they exited the store.

“Well, that was fun.” MC stated with a tired sigh.

Riddle nodded his head in agreement, looking at his box. “Yes. It was actually more enjoyable than I expected.”

“I agree.” Vil agreed.

“Speak for yourself.” Leona grumbled.

“Oh please, Kingscholar, we all know you had fun.” Malleus teased.

Leona growled at him, but MC ignored them both as they looked at Ortho.

“Did you have fun, Ortho?”

“Yeah!” Ortho cheered. “I love my new cat! Plus, I can’t wait to give big bro his gift.”

“I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“Hehe. Thanks for helping me pick it out. Wait—” Ortho paused, realizing something for the first time. “Big sib, you didn’t get one!”

The group halted and looked over at MC and realized that the young robot boy was right. MC did not make their own build-a-bear.

“Oh, it’s fine. I don’t really need one.” MC explained, trying to wave off their concern.

“But you have to make one!” Kalim stated, almost whiningly. “Let’s go now!”

“Wha—? I said I don’t need one—Hey!”

Kalim put down his stuff and grabbed MC by the arm, pulling them back to build-a-bear.

“Wait out here for us.” He called to the others.

A few minutes later, MC walked out with a cute pig plushie.

The rest of the week went by too fast for anyone’s tastes.

The day after the mall trip was Ortho’s day. They went to an amusement park since the boy had never been to one before. They were very careful to avoid any water rides. Vil almost had a heart attack when he saw the food available.

“This is just grease and lard!” He yelled, utterly revolted.

The last day was Malleus’s day. His was pretty low-key compared to the others. All he wanted was to eat ice cream and watch movies. They did end up watching the How to Train Your Dragon Trilogy and by the end of it, almost everyone was in tears. Malleus refused to let go of is Toothless plush.

At the end of the week, they finally returned to NRC. Though they got some strange looks due to their new fuzzy friends.

Riddle kept his rabbit on his desk in his room constantly. He refused to let anyone know that he slept, much less cuddled with it, at night.

Unfortunately for him, his new comfort item caused him to oversleep and Trey and Cater went to wake him up only to find their dorm head peacefully snoozing while snuggling a bunny plush.

Riddle’s rage was worth the Magicam photo.

About a week after their visit to MC’s world, MC stopped by Savannaclaw to speak with Leona about something.

They went to his room and found him snoozing on his bed, but also found his build-a-bear lamb sitting on one of the chairs in his room sporting a miniature Savannaclaw uniform.

“I thought you were going to send it to Cheka.” MC smugly asked when Leona woke up.

“Shut up,” Leona hissed. “I just haven’t made Ruggie mail it yet.”

“Right.” MC stated before leaving.

Ruggie walked in afterwards, picking up the lamb and looking over at Leona with a smirk. “So should I go ahead and mail this?”

“Touch it and I’ll turn you to sand.” Leona snapped, snatching the plush from Ruggie’s greedy hands.

Ruggie snickered before grabbing Leona’s laundry and leaving. Of course the hyena knew that the dorm head wasn’t going to get rid of the lamb plush. After all, why would he after forcing commissioning the hyena to make it a uniform.

As Azul expected, the tweels instantly made fun of his new seahorsicorn. They teased him relentlessly but eventually they let it go.

His seahorsicorn stayed in his office constantly, like a good luck charm.

It really was, though.

Any new clients he got were so distracted by the hot pink monstrosity that they hardly paid attention to the contract they were signing.

Eventually, Azul and the tweels made it a new fedora. One that matched theirs.

Jamil was so done with Kalim when he walked into Scarabia with four stuffed animals. For the next week, all Jamil heard was Kalim talking about your world and how much fun he had.

He was extremely annoyed that you let Kalim get so many stuffed animals, but he was grateful that you at least stopped him from getting a parrot with a Kalim voice recording and some gaudy outfit.

Not that he’d ever admit it, but he did like his new parrot stuffed animal.

Vil kept his peacock on his vanity.

Rook loved the thing. Epel didn’t really get the appeal but didn’t really have an opinion.

Vil’s magicam followers adored it. They begged him to know where he got it and were left hanging on their seats when he told them it was a secret.

There was also a sick sense of satisfaction when Negie himself asked Vil where he got it.

One fan decided to make Vil’s peacock a crown that matched his own. After Vil posted a picture of it several fans started making and sending Vil crowns for his peacock too.

Eventually he made a separate account just for pictures of his peacock plush wearing the crowns his fans sent him.

Idia was so happy when Ortho returned. Sure, he gave his little brother permission to go, but that doesn’t mean he missed him any less.

Idia was the most excited by the games he got, but he did like his Pikachu. Not only did he now have the only copies of MC’s world’s games in Twisted Wonderland, he also hand the plush of one of the game’s mascot.

He also adored Ortho’s cat plush. When he heard about why Ortho chose it, it HP took a major hit.

Hades in hell below, he loved his brother.

It actually took Idia a few days to find out that his pikachu had a recording. The moment he found the recording and heard his brother’s voice say that he loved him Idia almost passed out. Ortho had to get the fire extinguisher.

After that, Idia’s pikachu never left his lap.

Malleus’s Toothless plush had a special place on top of the gargoyle Malleus kept in his room.

Sebek was confused by this new addition.

Lilia found it adorable.

Silver couldn’t care less.

Malleus explained to them the process he went through to make his plush and Lilia was sure to ask MC to send him the video he knew they took.

After explaining that his plush was actually a character from a movie, Lilia insisted that they watch it.

Even Silver stayed awake during the movies and by the end they were all crying over Hiccup and Toothless.

Malleus cuddled with his plush that night. 

Eventually, Lilia made it a Diasomnia dorm hat. Malleus refused to let anyone take it off.

Meanwhile, with MC and Grim, the monster-cat hated MC’s new plush.

Usually at night, MC would cuddle him. Now they cuddled that cheap piece of fabric and stuffing instead!

After a week of no nightly cuddles, Grim decided to plot an evil scheme.

Unfortunately for him, his scheme was not that well hatched.

He decided to set the plush on fire while MC was working at the Mostro Lounge. Unfortunately for him, MC forgot their phone and caught him in the act.

He was forced to sleep on the couch in the common room for a week while this weekend MC and the dorm heads (plus Ortho) planned another outing.

[blu-joons]

When He Has To Leave For Tour When You’re Ill ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

Your eyes watched closely as Jin took a seat at the end of the sofa, staring down at you. “I really don’t think I should be going away when you’re as unwell as you are.”

Your hand reached across to push against his arm, “I appreciate that you’re worried, but I’m through the worst of it, and you know the group needs you too.”

“They’d survive without me for a week,” Jin tried to argue, but your head shook back at him. “All I have to do is grab my phone and call up my manager to explain the situation, I’m sure that everyone would understand.”

“You’re going,” you told him, clearing your throat once you were finished, with Jin’s eyes still watching over you closely.

Your eyes rolled at the concern that he looked at you with, “what if you take a turn for the worst again? Who will be here to look after you and make you feel better?”

“I’ve got plenty of friends,” you pointed out to him with a smile, “you can come up with every excuse, but none of them will get me to want you to stay.”

“Do you really think that you’ll be alright here, ill, all by yourself?”

“I’ll survive,” you assured him, “and if the worst really happens then I will ring the doctors and see what they can do for me.”

“Make sure that you do, you’ve got to take care of yourself.”

Yoongi:

You could feel his eyes watching over you as you woke up from your nap, coming face to face with him almost immediately. “How can I leave you when you’re like this?”

Your shoulders shrugged as you tugged the blanket further around your body, “you need to leave because you’ve got work today, I’ll be quite alright.”

“Will you though?” Yoongi honestly asked, studying you closely, “you’ve barely been able to get yourself up off of the sofa today and in a couple of days I’m expected to go and leave you here all alone.”

“I’ll be alright,” you tried to assure him, “I’ve got a couple of days to get as well as I can be before you have to go away.”

His head nodded slowly, although he was still far from convinced, “I’m not going to leave you out of my sight until I get on the road, you need to be well rested Y/N.”

“Don’t worry, I intend to make the most of having you here to look after me until I’m alone,” you joked, “I’m going to take advantage all the time.”

“They’ll be no complaints from me, I want to help you out.”

“You might not be saying that soon,” you continued to tease, “in a short while you might be pretty pleased to be going on tour instead.”

“No way, I’m never happy leaving you, I’m confident of that.”

Hoseok:

A chuckle came from you as Hobi walked into your bedroom with a tray full of snacks for you. “Don’t laugh, I’m trying to do a good job of taking care of you before I go.”

Your head shook as he sat down on the bed beside you, “I’m not laughing at you, I just can’t believe that you’ve done this for me, it’s only a week.”

“I don’t care how long I’m away for,” he announced, passing a hot cup of honey tea across to you, “I want to do whatever I can to make sure that you’re as well as possible for when I go away tomorrow Y/N.”

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” you smiled across at him, “I really appreciate it, but honey tea won’t solve everything.”

His head nodded in agreement with you, “if it can help you just the tiniest bit, even for tonight, then it will be worth it, your health is my priority at least for tonight.”

“I’m always your priority,” you joked, jabbing against his chest, “but in all seriousness, I will be alright when you’re away, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“All I’m going to do when I’m on the road is worry about you.”

“Don’t,” you tried to ask of him, “this is just one of those things, and I know that I will be back on my feet in no time.”

“I know that too, but I just want it to be now instead.”

Namjoon:

His heart dropped as you walked into the room, taking a seat down beside him on the sofa. “I wish more than anything else that I could take you on tour with me.”

“Unfortunately, you’re not allowed,” you reminded him with a giggle, quickly regretting it as a pain struck against the top of your throat yet again.

“Steady,” Namjoon instantly warned, moving his arm around your shoulders, “see, this is exactly why you should be able to come with me, how can I leave you by yourself when you can hardly even talk right now?”

“I’m getting better,” you groggily informed him, “and you’ve got other things to worry about instead of me too.”

His head shook confidently in reply, “I can’t believe that I’m leaving you when you need me the most, nobody should have to be alone when they aren’t feeling well.”

“You’re here in spirit,” you tried to joke, assuring Namjoon that he didn’t need to worry, “and I’m sure that you’ll text me and ring me whenever you can.”

“Of course, I’ve got to make sure that you’re alright.”

“See, there’s no need for me to go on the road,” you smiled, “and in no time at all I’ll be back to my usual self once again.”

“I know you will, I still don’t want to leave you though.”

Jimin:

You watched as Jimin pulled out his phone, carefully spotting as he pulled up Namjoon’s contact. “Hey!” He yelled as you snatched his phone straight out of his hand.

You moved his phone behind your back, “I know what you’re doing, you’re going to text him and tell him that I’m ill, and that you’re worried about me.”

“Perhaps,” Jimin agreed, smirking across at you, “but not just to say that I’m worried about you, but also to see if perhaps we can think about postponing the tour for a few days so that I can be here with you.”

“I don’t need my hand holding,” you laughed, shaking your head across at him, “I’ve been by myself when I’ve been ill before.”

Jimin’s head nodded back at you, “that’s because you’ve never had me around to take care of you before, but now you do, and so I should be here with you.”

“I’ll be alright,” you reiterated, refusing to budge, “the tour is much more important to you then I am, a little sick bug won’t do me too much harm.”

“Don’t ever say that something is more important than you.”

“Fine,” you agreed, nudging against his arm, “but that doesn’t change the fact you’re going on tour and leaving me here.”

“Give it time, I still might be able to convince you otherwise.”

Taehyung:

The moment you caught Taehyung’s eye you could tell what he was thinking, offering him a smile. “I really don’t want to leave tomorrow when you’re like this.”

Your head shook, knowing exactly what he was going to say before he even said it. “Stop fretting about me, I’m sure that I’ll be just fine alone.”

“I know that you’re fine,” Taehyung smiled, taking a hold of your hand, “but I know that just knowing you’re not completely yourself will be enough to worry me whilst I’m on the road, can’t someone just come over?”

“Everyone is busy, and I don’t want to be a burden,” you told him, “I’ve been getting better, so it’s just a matter of time.”

His head nodded, knowing that you had a point. “I just wish you’d hurry up and get better by tomorrow morning so that I can leave to go on tour comfortably.”

“I’ll try my best,” you teased, nudging his arm, “but I can’t make any promises, my body will heal as quickly as my body wants to heal unfortunately.”

“It just worries me that you might get worse again Y/N.”

“I’m sure that won’t happen,” you tried to comfort him, “I’ll take good care of myself whilst you’re gone to get ready.”

“Make sure you do, because I’m not here to do it.”

Jungkook:

Your eyes widened in horror as Jungkook walked into the room with a huge cardboard box in hand. “This should see you through your illness whilst I’m on the road.”

As the box dropped by your side, you couldn’t believe what you saw before you. “Have you really bought me all of this? How unwell do you think I am?”

“Well, seeing as you’re refusing to let me stay at home and look after you, I thought I would buy you all of the things that you might need whilst I’m gone,” he explained, “I didn’t miss anything for you, do you think?”

“If anything, I think you’ve bought too much,” you laughed, “I don’t think I’m going to need anti sickness medication.”

His head shook across at you, “you say that now, but what if you start throwing up, you’ll be very thankful for me buying you those tablets to save your day.”

“I’ve got a slight cold,” you reminded him, “the most that I need is a few tissues, and for you to go on tour and not worry about how I am at home as well.”

“Are you sure that you’ll be alright without me here Y/N?”

“Of course,” you chuckled, shaking your head at him, “I’m more than capable of getting over a cold by myself Jungkook.”

“Just make sure you ring me every night on tour.”

---

Masterlist

[yournameoneverypage]

When You're Ready

Reader request: Shawn Mendes x (y/n). "Shawn is on tour and invites the reader to the show so he can ask her to be his girlfriend and he sings When You're Ready, but Camila shows up and the reader is convinced that it's for C and not for her."

Word Count: ~3.7

Notes: Mostly fluff with brief moments of angst, and a smut ending.

Warnings: NSFW

~ * ~

(Y/n) stood at baggage claim at LAX, waiting for her blush-colored suitcase to roll by on the carousel. She was going to be in California for almost a week. Why? Well, her best friend was Shawn Mendes and he was currently on tour. He was missing her something fierce, he had said, and he wanted her to come see him.

Shawn had two sold out shows, consecutive nights, at the Staples Center followed by a show in San Francisco three days later, so why not make a week of it? His idea, but the second he mentioned it she was on board. She’d figure it out, find a way to make it work.

Any time she got to spend with him was both treasured and torturous. But she would go through the pain and heartache over and over again if it meant nearly a week with her most favorite person.

See, the thing was, (y/n) had been in love with Shawn for nearly as long as she had known him.

~ * ~

After retrieving her bag, (y/n) went in search of her driver. Shawn had said he or she would be holding a sign with her name on it. Shawn had a few interviews to do that morning, so (y/n) would be taken to his hotel to wait for him to finish, and then they’d have the entire afternoon and evening to spend together.

Aside from the aforementioned interviews, this was a day off for Shawn and he wanted to make the most of it because the Staples Center shows were the following two nights, and there wouldn’t be much down time during the days with soundchecks, meet and greets, and Q&As before showtime. Fortunately they would have more time to spend together between LA and San Francisco.

(Y/n) located her driver, who smiled brightly and introduced himself as John. He took her bag and engaged her in friendly chatter as he led her toward an idling Range Rover.

Who left a vehicle like this idling curbside at the airport?

John opened the rear passenger door for her with a knowing grin. (Y/n) started to climb in before she even noticed him.

“Shawn!” She almost tipped over into his lap reaching across the seat to hug him.

“Surprise, babe!” he chuckled into her ear.

“You’re here!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t collect you myself, but as much as I love my fans, I didn’t want to get stuck here for a half an hour taking selfies.”

“I thought you were in interviews all morning.”

“I was. I was hoping to come with John to pick you up, but I honestly didn’t know how long all the interviews were going to take so I didn’t want you to be disappointed if I said I would be here but then wasn’t.”

He was always so thoughtful; it was one of the many, many things (y/n) loved about him. She linked her hand with his between them, squeezed, and smiled. “I missed you.”

With a grin, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Missed you, too. So much. I’m so happy you’re here,” he breathed.

~ * ~

The day flew by way too quickly.

Once Shawn got (y/n) checked in and settled at the hotel, in a room that adjoined his, they grabbed lunch at one of Shawn’s favorite places.

It was (y/n)’s first ever visit to Los Angeles. Shawn had asked her if there were any specific things that were on her must do/see list, and he’d take care of everything.

They visited the Griffith Observatory, and strolled down the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

(Y/n) thought, and Shawn agreed, that too much attention might be drawn to them if he was spotted along Venice Beach or the Santa Monica Pier, as he had already been approached a few times during their activities earlier in the day. (Y/n) had been understanding and supportive of him spending a few minutes chatting with his fans and taking photos. She actually took a few of the photos herself.

Another day, he promised.

Instead, they spent a good part of the late afternoon and early evening at the Getty Center Museum.

They had dinner in Little Tokyo, followed by drinks at a tiki bar. Only one for (y/n) because she was a lightweight and tiki drinks were known to be quite strong. Shawn stopped after two, as he had a full day the next day and didn’t want to risk waking up with a hangover.

Back at the hotel, freshly showered, in pajamas, and in Shawn’s room, stretched out on his king-sized bed, Shawn and (y/n) ordered something from room service to share.

Even though they had chosen a movie to watch, they were too busy talking and laughing to pay much attention to the television.

~ * ~

Staples Center, Day One, had (y/n) immersed in the thick of things with Shawn, his band, and his crew. She knew only a few of them and was introduced to many more. Her laminated pass was the same as what everyone else had, giving her access to anything and anywhere she wished.

She soaked up as much as possible.

Shawn didn’t always attend soundcheck with his band, but for (y/n) he definitely wanted to be there so she could fully experience it. She stayed backstage, chatting with Shawn’s people while he did his meet and greet photos. She sat in on his Q&A session but stayed unobtrusively toward the back of the room. She could talk to him whenever she wanted; this was his fans’ time with him.

The concert was unbelievable, as (y/n) knew it would be. Shawn always left his heart and gratitude on stage.

That night they were in (y/n)’s room, she on one of the doubles, Shawn in the other. He was still a little high on adrenaline, asking her how she enjoyed the day, and especially how she enjoyed the show.

She knew it wouldn’t be long before he completely crashed out. When he did, he was still in her room.

~ * ~

Staples Center, Day Two, was much the same, although they started the day with Shawn dragging (y/n) to the gym to work out with him. They also skipped soundcheck to get lost together in the backstage corridors.

The closer it came to showtime, the more anxious Shawn seemed to get. He had a different vibe about him than he had the night before.

While eating dinner, (y/n) asked him if everything was alright. He assured her everything was amazing; it just felt like something big was about to happen and he hoped it would turn out to be a good kind of big.

~ * ~

Again, the show was absolutely incredible, although after the song he normally ended with, before acknowledging his band and going into the encore, he tried to quiet the deafening audience with a finger pressed against his lips.

Of course, it was futile. He just laughed, somewhat nervously, and said, “This song is for someone very special to me. Someone who is here tonight. I want her to know how I feel about her...”

That seemed to get everyone’s attention.

Shawn found (y/n) in the audience, met her eyes, and smiled adoringly.

Maybe I had too many drinks But that's just what I needed I hope that you don't think that what I'm saying sounds conceited When I look across the room, and you're staring right back at me Like somebody told a joke and we're the only ones laughin'

(Y/n)’s heart started thumping. He couldn’t be singing this for her, could he...? He had never expressed any interest in her as more than a friend. Had he?

Don't know why I tried 'Cause ain't nobody like you Familiar disappointment every single time I do Every single night my arms are not around you My mind's still wrapped around you

A couple of girls beside (y/n) bent their heads together and pointed to something or someone standing to the side of the stage. Shawn seemed to notice, as she had, and looked toward the side stage.

She followed his line of vision to see Camila standing there, beaming brightly. She put her fingertips to her lips and blew him a big kiss.

(Y/n) didn’t notice, over the dizzying blood rush in her head, that Shawn seemed to stumble a little through the chorus.

Baby, tell me when you're ready I'm waitin' Baby, any time you're ready I'm waitin'

Even ten years from now If you haven't found somebody I promise, I'll be around Tell me when you're ready I'm waitin'

He glanced once more toward Camila, but just as quickly his smile settled again in (y/n)’s direction. His voice steadied and grew stronger.

What if my dad is right When he says that you're the one No, I can't even argue I won't even fight him on it Call you when it's late And I know that you're in bed 'Cause I'm three hours back Seems like you're always six ahead

(Y/n) smiled back, although it seemed more reflexive than genuine, as her heart was currently crumbling to pieces. She tried her hardest to be happy for her best friend and the woman he was currently confessing his feelings for, on stage, in front of everyone.

Don't know why I tried 'Cause ain't nobody like you Familiar disappointment every single time I do Every single night my arms are not around you My mind's still wrapped around you

Baby, tell me when you're ready I'm waitin' Baby, any time you're ready I'm waitin'

Even ten years from now If you haven't found somebody I promise, I'll be around Tell me when you're ready I'm waitin', yeah

And if I have to, I'll wait forever Say the word and I'll change my plans Yeah, you know that we fit together I know your heart like the back of my hand...

Before the song ended, overwhelmed, unable to continue her façade, (y/n) had slipped from the crowd and backstage.

She wasn’t sure where to go once she was backstage. She was fighting back tears, so her vision was blurry, but she didn’t want to stop to ask anyone how to get out of the venue because they might ask why she was crying and then it would all turn into one big mess.

A voice from behind her asked, “You’re Shawn’s friend, right? Are you looking for his dressing room?” Was she? Would she be able to face him after his encore and bows?

“Yes, please,” she found herself answering.

“End of the corridor, turn right, first door on the left.”

(Y/n) nodded her thanks and began to follow the directions she was given. She wasn’t sure if it would be the first or last place anyone would be looking for her.

~ * ~

Shawn burst into his dressing room, out of breath from the end of his show and running around looking for (y/n). Incredibly relieved to see her, he gasped, “Are you okay? What happened?? You just disappeared!”

“I’m sorry. I just needed a few minutes.”

“In the middle of the most important song of the night?”

Her voice cracked. “I said I was sorry.” And she was. She should have stayed till the end. “I was caught off guard.”

“Oh no, babe. Shit! I’m sorry, (y/n). I overwhelmed you, didn’t I? I shouldn’t have made it so public. It should have been a private conversation. Forgive me?” he whispered.

“Of course. You’re my best friend and I’m happy for you,” she smiled softly, truly. And she was. His happiness meant more to her than anything else. It was just going to take some time to refortify her heart. “I wish you and Camila the best.”

“Camila?” Little wrinkles formed between his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean, what am I talking about?” she puffed.

Suddenly Shawn started laughing.

(Y/n) placed her hands in the center of his chest and pushed him away, unamused.

He caught her wrists and pulled her to him. “I wasn’t singing that song for her.” He placed her hands over his heart and covered them with his own. “I was singing it for you, my beautiful, clueless, wonderful, precious love.”

“What?” she exhaled.

“I finished singing and looked for your eyes, only to find you gone.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend. Not Camila. You, (y/n). In front of the entire Staples Center audience. Why did you think I wanted Camila?”

“You kept looking at her side stage.”

“I glanced at her twice,” he contended, lightheartedly. “I was surprised. I didn’t expect her to be here tonight. It’s true that she recently told me she has deeper feelings for me-”

“And you have always had feelings for her.”

“I had feelings for her. Past tense. Before I met you. Are you really arguing with me about how I feel about you?” he smirked.

“But you didn’t sing that song last night, when Camila wasn’t here.”

“You are!” he laughed again.

“Stop laughing!” she exclaimed, unable to stop herself from giggling, her heart blooming with hope. She then whispered, “Did you really mean it?”

“Oh, darling...

“If I had professed my feelings last night and you had turned me down, I don’t think I would have been able to get through tonight. Telling you tonight, when there were three days before San Francisco, would have either given us time to disappear together for a few days, or would have given me time to sort myself out if you didn’t want me the way I want you.

“Please tell me you want me.”

(Y/n) wanted to scream, yes, I want you!, but instead she teased, trying to keep a straight face, “I don’t know. Any boyfriend of mine has to be a good kisser. Are you a good kisser?”

“I am a fantastic kisser,” he grinned. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and slid his hand to the nape of her neck.

“Prove it.”

His other hand circled her waist, fell against the small of her back. He leaned in, watched her eyelids flutter, then close, and gently guided her lips to his.

She had imagined this moment for so long but it was much more than she had ever expected. Thousands of thoughts were forced away to make room for one single idea. How could one kiss cause the world to fall away around her?

“Shawn,” she said, breathless, easing away.

“Still proving it,” he murmured. He softly licked at the seam of her lips, and when she responded he deepened their kiss. Her heart was pounding, and she was warm from head to toe. She felt his tongue meet hers and her entire body began to hum.

Their knees were weak when their lips separated.

Shawn touched his nose to hers. “Well...?”

“I will be more than happy to kiss you all night long, but only after you take a shower,” she giggled.

~ * ~

(Y/n) knocked on the adjoining door. She didn’t wait for a response before letting herself through.

Shawn was leaning against the dresser, partly sitting on it, phone to his ear, wearing nothing but baggy, cotton pajama pants. His chest and feet were bare. By his side of the conversation, (y/n) grasped that they were talking about the plan for the days leading up to San Francisco.

He held his hand out to her in invitation. His legs fell open and she automatically moved into the V they made. He ended his call, set his cell aside, and placed his large hands on her hips.

“So, about what you said... Something about kissing me all night long?”

She moved even closer to him. One of her hands curled around the back of his neck, the other tangled in his still damp curls. The roughened pads of his thumbs caressed the bare, soft skin just above the waistband of her pajama shorts.

She kissed him, tenderly at first, and then with growing intensity. He gently bit her top lip, sucked it, her teeth tugged on his lower lip. His kiss was determined and sent her head spinning. She began to tremble as she clung to him.

Shawn’s lips slowed and softened; he eased away and breathed, “I’ve already waited so long; we can take our time.” He slid his hands further up (y/n)’s sides, under her shirt. “We don’t have to rush into anything. I can wait for you.” She felt his thumbs brush either side of her breasts.

She started trailing tiny kisses from his chin up along his jawline before touching the tip of her tongue to the lobe of his ear. “I don’t want to wait,” she purred.

“Oh, thank God,” he groaned before again pressing hungry lips to hers.

She responded without hesitation.

Her hands trailed down his chest and to his sides, her fingers playing over the ripples of his stomach. She brushed her knuckles against the start of his arousal and his breath hitched, cupped him through thin cotton.

He arched his pelvis against the heat of her palm and she heard a low, rumbling moan from the back of his throat. He tangled a hand in her hair, tugged gently. He bit down on the skin of her clavicle, sucked, soothed it with his tongue.

She pulled away from his mouth. “Shawn!” she scolded, playfully, chuckled, “You’re going to leave a mark!”

“Good. Show everyone you’re mine. Mark you everywhere. But this,” he smirked, kissing the already purpling bloom, “will be the only one people can see.”

“Fuck,” she sighed. His claim on her made a shiver trickle up her spine.

“If you insist,” he grinned, smugly.

Feeling bold and sexy, she hooked a fingertip in the waistband of his pajama bottoms and starting walking backward. He stood to his full height and followed.

(Y/n) felt the backs of her legs hit the mattress. With fluid movement, she slid her shorts down, stepped out of them, and pulled her camisole up and over her head. She stood before him in small lace panties, breasts bare, nipples tight.

The way he looked upon her made her blood thrum, her body flush. He licked his lips, bit softly on the fuller, lower one.

His hand reached out and cupped one of her breasts. He gently tugged at her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Instinctively, her hand slipped between her legs, at her core, and she rubbed herself through the damp lace. His nostrils flared when he caught the scent of her arousal. He whimpered, her name falling like a prayer from his lips.

“I wanna see you,” (y/n) purred.

Obeying, oh so eagerly, Shawn pushed his pants down, over his ass, off, his cock bouncing free, filling, curling up toward his stomach right before her eyes. He wrapped thumb and forefinger around the base, his other fingers pressed flush against his scrotum.

“Been thinking about me like this?” he hummed.

Yes. God, yes. Maybe one day she would tell him just how much. It was her turn to lick her lips and bite the lower one.

They fell together onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and with a crash of lips. When they separated to catch their breath, (y/n) reached over to turn off the bedside lamp.

“Nuh-uh, Sugar,” Shawn rasped. “Waited too long for this.” Voice rough with desire he sang softly, “I wanna love you with the lights on, keep you up all night long... Darling, I wanna see every inch of you, I get lost in the way you move...”

She might have giggled if her panties weren’t being drawn down over her hips, if calloused fingertips hadn’t begun to dance along soft, hot, electrified skin, lips and tongue following.

He took a dusky, peaked nipple into his mouth. Her back arched, hands grasping at the sheets at her sides, and moaned softly. He sucked her other nipple into his mouth, tasting, humming.

“Shawn,” she whined, moving a hand to tangle it in his dark curls, tugging him away from her breasts.

“Tell me what you want, Love.”

“I want you. I need you,” she pleaded.

“What was that?”

“Fuck me, Shawn.”

“Mm... Since you asked so sweetly,” he smirked, stroking his cock. He rolled on a condom and moved to rest between her legs.

She reached between them, taking him in her hand, and he shuddered. She wanted to feel the moment he slid into her. He let her guide him. Their eyes met and held, bodies drew together, foreheads touched. She groaned with deep satisfaction into his mouth as she adjusted to his girth and length.

He wheezed, stilled as he bottomed out. She was so tight around him that if he began to move in that moment it would be over too soon.

“You okay there, Mendes?” she purred and imperceptibly tightened her legs around his waist.

“Oh God.” That tiny shift was almost too much. “You feel so good. Too good,” he mumbled. “I need a minute.” His arms on either side of her, holding his weight above her, he buried his lips in the crook of her neck, centered on the scent of her skin as he salvaged control.

One hand again tangled in in his hair, the other stroked the skin of his upper back.

“Okayokay,” he mumbled, and he began to rock into her, slow... rhythmic... deep.

She gasped when the pebbled nubs of her breasts brushed against his taut nipples. Her whimpers and groans mingled with his rumbles and moans. She was torn between closing her eyes and wanting to watch his face as warmth and pleasure coursed through her.

He wanted her to climax before him. Wanted to watch her fall apart beneath him.

He knew she was nearly there when she began to ripple on the bed like a wave on the sea. The tide came all the way up; he was caught in the rush. And then the knot at the root of his cock dissolved in fire and he was falling fast, craving the feel of her so close to him, unsure where he ended and she began.

( FIN )

~ * ~

@theregoesmyherojd @benito-mi-vida @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @mendesblurb

[thevillainsfangirl]

The Teavee family make me sad.

Yes, the Teavee family from the iconic childhood tale, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It’s their story, the Buckets are just at the forefront of it.

Specifically, those 👆🏽 versions of the Teavees, from the 2005 film and the 2013 musical, though I will also look at the National Tour for the Broadway version because of the song they use in it.

Now, let me start off with this: I firmly believe that Norman and Doris Teavee love their son, and they are doing their best. Their best just isn’t very good. (They literally suck so bad as parents in ‘71, as he has 0 basic manners and they’ll let him get a gun for his 12th birthday! However, I don’t see them in the first movie as Doris & Norman anyway, and I think their names are different.)

...

I first want to cover the musical. Here, Michael is a feral child; he is violent, he is... “high-spirited,” he smokes 2 packs of cigarettes a day (it used to be more)... he has set their cat on fire and chloroformed a nurse (which makes me wonder if they needed a nurse for him?), he somehow stole a German tank, and he is on house-arrest... at only 10-years-old. Because of all this, Doris is a high-strung alcoholic who is deep in denial. Meanwhile, Norman seems... disconnected; he gives off the vibe that he has dissociated in order to cope with his own son. (I know the intention was most likely to paint him as a clueless sitcom dad, but I personally don’t see it that way.)

I don’t care much for the Broadway version of this show, especially because of the song that replaces “It’s Teavee Time!” as it has nothing to do with them as characters, but it’s important to mention here because... Mike’s father (I won’t say Norman) is gone in the Broadway version. (Or is it only the National Tour where this is mentioned?) He’s just gone, he has up and left his wife and son, he has actually checked-out of the family! And I can’t even blame him; with that wife and that child, I’d honestly want to ditch them, too. Another thing worth mentioning is the song used in the National Tour of the Broadway musical, “Little Man Of Mine”, which mentions Mike still being on house-arrest for something that “they never proved”, and his mother (here called Ethel; I consider them a different set of parents, but I digress) doping him up and putting restraints on him, while also drinking and popping pills herself. The saddest part of the song is probably Mike saying that he (or they) try to find his father online every night. 🥺

Also very important to note: In both “It’s Teavee Time!” and “That Little Man Of Mine”, Doris and Ethel mention wishing they’d had a daughter instead of Mike. WHAT. THE. FUCK??? Does Mike ever hear this? I sincerely hope not! (Also, it’s simply illogical because a girl could act the exact same way that Mike does. 🤨)

Unfortunately, there’s no official recording of “Little Man Of Mine” anywhere, but the lyrics to it are here, and I’ve seen one (1) recorded performance of decent film/audio quality.

Now, on to the movie; grab some tissues, because the sads just keep on coming...

In the 2005 film... well, Mrs. Teavee doesn’t speak, and we only see her once, but she feels dead inside. She gives off a vibe that says she regrets having this child, and she and her husband haven’t been in love for years. Norman is a defeated pushover who would probably lay down in a puddle if Mike told him to because he doesn’t want to get his shoes dirty (not that the kid would care, he *was* stomping in candy goo); he tries to tell Mike to stop ragefully stomping on candy pumpkins, he tries to tell Mike to calm down in the TV room, but it of course doesn’t work, and he barely tried at all. He doesn’t understand his son, and he feels he has grown up too fast (which is probably true). And Mike, well... Mike is a lot of things, but I honestly feel like the kid is sad. He is so angry all of the time, that is not a happy child. That is a Depressed & Angry 2000s Emo Child, I can tell because I was one. I don’t know if he can tell how dead inside his parents are, if it’s because they don’t get him, if he gets picked on in school for being a little genius... but the kid is unhappy, that much I know.

But I don’t think it was always this way. I think they were a happy family once, when Mike was little, but then it started going downhill.

This newspaper article from the film (I’ve never seen in the film) paints the picture for me:

(First off: Mike looks too pure here, so can you imagine people picking up that newspaper and then reading the article? “Awww, what an adorable child!” 😊 *reads it* “Jeez, what an obnoxious little shit!” 🤨 And I sincerely can’t help but wonder how they got him to smile for the picture; his parents probably promised to buy him a new video game if he would just smile, please. I can hear the exhaustion in Norman’s voice.)

If you click on this 👆🏽 image (in Dashboard/preview mode), open it in a new tab, click the zoom magnifying glass, and look down to the lower-middle left of the paper, you should be able to read: Young Teavee also no doubt takes after his father, a Certified Public Accountant with nearly 20 years of experience. “I would always bring work home and Mikey would look over my shoulder when he was a baby,” professed Mr. Teavee. “He’s always had a knack for numbers.”

Now, I know that makes no sense because in the actual film, Mr. Teavee said that he is a high school geography teacher, not an accountant, but... let’s just go along with it for now. How precious does that sound? Imagine Mr. Teavee sitting on their couch, looking over his work, and little baby Mike is just standing on the couch and looking over his dad’s shoulder, just really fascinated by it. 🥺

What I’m getting at is: I think they were a happy family once, but then Mike started detaching and growing up, and maybe his parents marriage isn’t doing the best anymore (I get the vibe, I get the vibe), and it just all went downhill. And honestly? I think Norman is afraid of his son. Which is understandable; if I lived with that kid, I’d be scared, too. 😳

(Side-note: That newspaper says that Mike is 13-years-old? 🤨 Yeah, I don’t fucking buy it, that kid looks 10 or 11, which doesn’t sound like much, but kids are growing all the time, so they definitely look different at 13 than they do at 10 or 11. It’s possible he could be 13, but I don’t believe that, and I headcanon him as 10/11.)

I’m sure there’s something I’m forgetting, but I think I’ve said every relevant thing there is to be said so far about this candy-coated Greek tragedy called the Teavee family. My point is...

The Bucket family is sad because of their financial situation, but thankfully for them, that’s fixed by the end of the story. The Teavee family is sad in a way that I don’t think can be fixed, not if they don’t try. The Teavee family is sad because they’re broken.

[viperbarnes]

The Long Last Summer

[B. Barnes] Oneshot

40s Post-War AU

Summary: With Steve off in America again, Bucky finds himself doing his own version of a USO tour through Italy, boosting morale and friendship, or so they tell him. However, a new stationing in the tiny town of Montecarra gives him more reason to want to stay, when he becomes quickly whisked away by wild, carefree and exuberant you.

Warnings: language, smut, mentions of the war, awful awful Italian probably. The reader has a name, but it's still written as a reader insert.

Note: The reader/character in this fic is a black woman. This fic was originally uploaded elsewhere, so if you're a part of the small audience who read it originally please don't panic, it isn't stolen lol. The story is almost entirely spoken in Italian, but doing italics for every conversation was annoying, so just assume that unless otherwise stated! Thank you for reading!

Words: 19.5k [This is very long.... Sorry...]

The hot Italian sun beats down on the town below, the occasional breeze carried overland from the nearby ocean to the west might have been a blessing if that too weren’t humid and warm. Bucky Barnes thinks it should be a sin for it to be so hot so early in the morning, but he’s long past complaining about it. Leaning against his car door, stopped on a hill overlooking the town of Montecarra, Bucky takes another drag of his cigarette before stomping it out. At least he hadn’t woken up in a filthy, sweltering trench, surrounded by hot bodies after another restless night of gunfire filled dreams. At least he was only required to wear his uniform during official ‘work’ hours.

Giving the town, his newest home, one last look, Bucky gets back in the car and makes his way down.

Being a core member of The Howling Commandos these past years, Bucky had earned himself a certain amount of celebrity, both in America and abroad. Especially in Italy. Given that Steve had returned to the States already, and Bucky had expressed some minor interest in staying in Europe a while longer, Colonel Phillips had happily assigned him as a ‘morale liaison’ while the US and other allies sorted out the peace treaties and demilitarisation of Europe.

It made as much sense to Bucky then as it did now. He had come to realise that ‘morale liaison’ was just jargon for ‘dancing, handshaking, smiling, posing monkey’, seeing as most of his time the past two years had been spent shaking hands while smiling and posing for various photos. Usually with politicians. Bucky hated politicians.

Luckily, his newest post, Montecarra, was far more what Bucky had thought he’d be doing when Phillips had given him his orders; helping people rebuild and reclaim their lives in a post-fascist Italy. As he drives through the small town, Bucky thinks briefly that the bulk of it seemed to be almost entirely untouched by the war, the classic Italian architecture and warm coloured buildings homey and welcoming, the cobbled stone streets and walkways looking every part the idyllic Tuscan town, but then he sees it.

Toward the edges of town, Bucky’s eyes catch on a shattered stone building, utterly destroyed. It’s a small ways from the town itself, a little field between it and the nearest houses, and he can’t help but already feel grateful for the fact it looked to be the only place that had been hit by the violence, though he doesn’t deny the unseen scars that no doubt linger on the people themselves.

He quickly looks away and continues on to his residence.

There was no army base or fortifications in Montecarra, the nearest being in Florence, but The people had kindly offered up a small, newly unowned cottage for the military to house any visiting soldiers in during their stay. When he finally gets to be shown around by the nearest neighbour, a friendly older woman, he’s glad that for the time being, he has it to himself.

He gets himself settled, partially unpacks his bags before getting bored and making his way out to the blooming garden, camera in hand. It had been a gift from Steve, sent for his birthday the previous year when the two had not been able to reunite, and although Bucky had much preferred putting pencil to paper before he’d owned his own camera, he’d found in recent months, as the cold receded and the sun came out, he’d picked up a knack for photography.

The fact that this model was an ‘instant’ model, making it so that after each photo he took, a little slip of paper would spit out and slowly develop the image, certainly aided his newfound love for the hobby. When he had been a kid, his Ma would take the family to have their pictures taken once a year, and the results always took days or weeks.

Lifting the camera to his eye, Bucky peeks through and aims it at a tall bushel of bougainvillea, the bright red against the butter-coloured walls of his cottage making him wish the photos weren’t just black and white.

He snaps a few more floral shots, wondering absently if he’ll be able to buy more photo paper in town. With the sun still high in the sky, he decides that he may as well take a short walk, if not to introduce himself to some of the locals, then to answer his question.

Honestly, the unendingly friendly reception he’d received everywhere he went never ceased to surprise him. Two years ago Italy had been the enemy or the soldiers and government at least. For the most part, the people caught in the crossfire had been weary and scared, but helpful where they could be to Allied soldiers. Still, the warmth they seemed to hold him, and other allied soldiers with was always a little startling at first.

By the time he makes it to the centre of town, he’d been kissed on his cheeks more times than he could count, but interestingly, the people of Montecarra weren’t as clingy as he’d found some other towns and cities… After greeting him, they’d happily left him alone, though with numerous and repeated offers to have him for dinner.

Once unable to stand doing nothing at all, and always on the go, the young man Bucky had once been, had evolved into a quieter, more solitary version of himself. He still liked to have fun, mind you, he’d learnt to take enjoyment and pleasure where he could in the army, but his sniper’s life had taught him contentedness with his own company. Bucky was fine being alone, without chatter or noise to distract him. He’d come to prefer it, actually.

Bucky finds that Montecarra’s central space was a large set of four courtyards, separated by various important municipal buildings and shops, and at the centre point, an old communal well that had been made into a fountain. Without thinking, Bucky lifts his camera to snap a shot of the fountain. He loved New York more than anything, and he couldn’t wait to return home, but damn if he hadn’t fallen hard for European architecture.

He’s still waving the little piece of photo paper back and forth to help it develop when loud laughter and the familiar noise of children playing reaches his ears. It startles him slightly, Montecarra wasn’t exactly sleepy, but it was quiet, and the residence all seemed to be of an older sort, he hadn’t seen many children yet, though a look at his watch tells him that might have been due to school.

A small gaggle of children of various ages come skipping into view across from the fountain, chatting loudly and seemingly unaware of the previous peace that had reigned in the town square. Unlike in New York, however, Bucky notices not a single patron of the nearby outdoor restaurant throws them dirty looks or hisses at them to quiet down, if anything, the people nearby pause to watch for a few seconds, not with disdain written on their faces, but soft, gentle smiles, before they return to their business.

A voice calling out from the back of the group, noticeable for its maturity in comparison to the children’s voices, catches Bucky’s attention and he lets his gaze skip over the scene until it lands on you, and suddenly, he’s breathless.

Bucky Barnes had seen a lot of beautiful women in his time, and had been lucky enough to know a number of them too, but you, you are something else entirely.

It’s your smile he notices first, plush rosy brown lips pulled wide in a joyful grin, so magnetising he finds himself unable to look away. Your hair is long, curly and dark, brushed into waves that the humidity and breeze seemed set on ruining, and with one hand you secure your wide brim sun hat as you chase the kids. Your white blouse is laced around the open collar and both it and the bright yellow of your skirt stand out against your syrupy brown skin, smooth and a little shiny from the sun.

“Here! Roberto, Norma, come sit here a moment! Look at the fountain!” You beckon the children, two strays in particular, over toward the fountain, and much like Bucky, the kids seem magnetised to you as well. You float right up to the water, sitting on the edge as the children all gather around, still chatting and playing loudly, though a little more orderly now.

Bucky watches you swipe a hand through the cool water, smiling and speaking animatedly with one of the children. He wonders if you were perhaps their teacher, but he’s snapped away from his thoughts a moment later.

“That man has a camera! Look!”

Bucky blinks, tearing his eyes from you, even as the children, and you, all now turn your attention to him in varying shades of wonderment. He’s still a small distance away, but it doesn’t matter as not even a second later, he’s being swamped by the pack of energetic youngsters.

“Are you a photographer?!”

“Can I see it?!”

“Will you take my picture!?”

The last request sets off a frenzy, the rest of the children all joining in to ask for their picture taken, and honestly, Bucky doesn’t even think he has enough paper for that.

“Hey! Mascalzoni! Leave the poor man alone!” You appear then, hands on your hips, not even two meters away and Bucky thinks he could faint.

“Oh, they’re—” He cuts himself off, switching to Italian.

“They’re fine, really… I just don’t think I have the photo paper for it…” He explains, trying his best to look you in the eye, but not quite making it. You cock your head in sympathy, and clap once, getting the children’s attention once more.

“Come on, stop it. Can’t you see you’ve scared him?!” You say playfully, though Bucky wants to correct that it isn’t them he’s scared of.

“How are we supposed to get more tourists to Montecarra if you’re all scaring them away, huh?!” You continue, crossing your arms and the kids seem to relent somewhat, whining a little as they back up from Bucky. You give him another, apologetic smile.

“Come along, you all better get home before your mothers’ tan your hides!” You say, making a shooing motion that makes Bucky second-guess his teacher theory. Before any of them can begin to move though, he takes half a step forward, holding up his camera.

“Wait, I can— I can take a photo of you all together…” He says, and watches as even your face lights up, though as the children all begin to excitedly gather in front of the fountain, you step away, to his side.

“You don’t want to be in it?” He asks, throwing you a sideways glance and yep, you’re still just as pretty as before. You smile and shake your head.

“No. Not this time.” he doesn’t know what you mean by that, but focuses back on the children, raising the camera and snapping a shot of the children, smiling brightly.

Chaos ensues once again when the paper pops out of the bottom, further exciting the group as Bucky attempts to hold the picture out of their reach while it develops, unable to stop himself from chuckling at how spirited they were. It had been a long time since he’d seen any kid so carefree. Perhaps that was why the townspeople were so unphased by their noise earlier.

After the picture is passed around for all to see, you clear your throat and jerk your head away again.

“Go on, clear out now.” Far more happily the children bid each other goodbye, a few moving in pairs or trios as they split off in separate directions.

Bucky is all too aware that you’re still standing near him, and he focuses on cleaning his camera lens with his sleeve.

“Thank you.” You say kindly, with a slight bow of your head, and he finds himself shrugging and shaking his head.

“It’s alright, really.” he pauses, and then;

“Are you their teacher?” He doesn’t expect the surprised laugh you let out, shaking your own head vigorously.

“Hell no. I don’t have the patience for that! We were just walking the same way.” Bucky blinks, not expecting your language, though he finds it endearing, a little more grounding. He laughs.

“I see.”

“You’re the soldier, yes? From America?” The subject change catches him out for a moment, but he’s nodding a moment later.

“Sergeant James Barnes, ma’am.” He almost salutes, doesn’t and then thinks better of it, giving you one anyway. You cock your head at him, an amused smile pulling at your lips.

“I thought soldiers wore uniforms?” You fold your hands in front of you, and Bucky blinks, down at his casual civilian clothes, and then back at you.

“Oh, I, well, I do, but only when I’m working, these days…” You laugh good-naturedly at his awkward delivery.

“I was only teasing. I’ve heard from Rome that soldiers spend just as much time out of their uniforms as in them.” You say it easily, with a playful chuckle, but the risque connotations don’t go over his head, his eyebrows lifting high in his surprise.

Were you… flirting…? Or was this just how you were?

“Well, Sergeant Barnes, it was lovely to meet you.” You’re stepping back, giving him another smile (were you always smiling? He wants to know, now), and a little wave before you begin to turn. Bucky flounders at your fast retreat and panics.

“Uh, wait!” You look back, and he swallows.

“What’s… what’s your name?” You chuckle and push your hair behind your shoulder.

“Cristina.” You tell him and he repeats it, trying to roll the ‘r’ like you do, which makes you laugh again.

“People usually just call me Nina.” You offer a moment later and Bucky nods, before giving you his own, more commonly used nickname.

“Bucky?” You repeat, almost unsure, but when he nods, mouth dry at hearing his name on your lips, you smile and nod.

“Bucky. I will see you around, Bucky.” And with that, he watches dumbly, awestruck in his place as you float out of the plaza.

—-

The warm breeze carries through the open windows of your house, sending the scents from the kitchen below wafting around the rooms. You’d already finished your work for the day, and the chores your mother assigned you, and with a slight pep in your step, you finish tying the scarf around your hair and grab your book.

“Mama? I’m going to read!” You call out, pausing for a moment to listen for her reply. You hear a faint humming above the radio and quickly take your leave, skipping down the front steps of your home and out of the walled front courtyard.

Montecarra is hot and warm, like it had been every other day this week, but you don’t mind. The streets you pass through on the way to your nook are quiet, with only the occasional Nonna in her garden, or returning from the markets. There had been more people here once, a long time ago, and in your childhood days you remember visitors, passing through and admiring your home on their way to other places. You missed that deeply, but push it from your mind, trying not to sour your day at the thought of your already sleepy town becoming sleepier.

You reach your normal place quickly, little plaza toward the outskirts of town, many of the houses here empty now. One of the homes, a double storied one like your own, has a tall garden wall that sits in the shade of the tall tree behind it. Midway through the wall, high enough to take some effort to climb, sit a series of three empty archways, glassless windows that give a view of the overgrown garden within, and from the other side of the little square beyond.

Nobody came to this part of town, not anymore, and in recent years, you’d found it the perfect place to sit unbothered. Tucking your book under your arm, you hitch your skirt up a little, and use one of the roots that climbs and decorates the wall with green ivy as a foothold. The archway isn’t high, but you certainly couldn’t get to it without a little help.

Once situated, you lean back against the pillar, bringing your feet up in front of you, and rest your book against your thighs and knees. You lose yourself quickly in the words, devouring the stories of far away places, detectives and mystery and murder. When the Nazi’s had been here, you hadn’t been allowed to freely enjoy such things. You’d been hidden away, scared everyday would be your last, but it had never come. They had left, and you had been safe again once more.

It was why you enjoyed sitting outside, in the sun and warm, basking in a world that was purely yours again.

Well, not just yours.

A quiet, but pointed cough makes you jump slightly, and you whip your head to find the source, shutting your book on instinct before your eyes find him, and you smile.

“Good Afternoon, Sergeant Barnes!” You greet, and the man returns your smile, lifting his hand briefly. You had known he was coming of course, your whole town did. He was helping the men rebuild the old schoolhouse, though he seemed to have finished that task for the day, as you had finished yours.

He was a handsome man, with dark hair and blue eyes, his pale skin lightly tanned on his face and arms from days in the Italian sun. He was young, though older than you, likely nearing his late twenties if you were correct. You hadn’t known who he was during the war, but afterwards, you’d had plenty of newspaper fodder to read. You think most of it must have been trash though, because the man the magazines and gossip columns had labelled as a charming, suave ladies man could not be the same one that stood before you now.

“Bucky. Bucky is fine, Senora Cristina.” He replies, his eyes dropping a little as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Well then you must call me Nina.” You reply, keeping up your smile for when he looks back at you. When he realises you haven’t looked away from him, he quickly averts his gaze again, but clears his throat and looks around the empty plaza, waving a hand.

“Quiet spot?” He asks, and you turn from where your back is pressed against the brick, swinging your legs over the side of the wall to face him properly. You nod.

“Yes. The people who lived in this part left. We don’t know if they’ll come back or…” You trail off, pursing your lips briefly, but shake your head. No. No time to dwell.

“It’s a good place to come to be alone.”

“Oh, I can— I can leave if you’d lik—” Bucky’s face falls into anxiety stricken concern as he gestures with his thumb toward the little road you think he must have come from, but you cut him off quickly, laughing.

“I was not attempting to chase you away!” You tell him, and he drops his hand back to his side. For a few seconds he just looks at you, like he’s unsure of what to say, and so you fill the silence the best you can.

“How do you like Montecarra?” Bucky nods quickly, his body language immediately relaxing somewhat. You wonder if you make him nervous because he’s unsure how to speak to women, or if it might be something else.

“It’s beautiful. I haven’t been able to stop looking, you know? We don’t have towns like this where I’m from.” You smile at his clear enthusiasm, and cock your head. You’d never been to America, you’d never even really been more than a few miles from your home, so you can’t imagine what towns must look like there.

“The people are friendly, I mean, everyone is friendly everywhere, but the people here are… they don’t seem to want to be around me twenty-four-seven.” He adds, and then clamps his mouth shut, as if he’d forgotten who he was talking to. You think maybe he hasn’t been around friends in a while. You shrug, and chortle.

“Oh, that’s just how we are. My Papa used to say that in the cities, nobody can leave each other alone because they don’t make real connections… but here and other small towns, we’re all we have, and after a while, you just get sick of each other.”

Bucky laughs, loudly and heartily, and you think it is a lovely sound. He says something in English, you think you hear ‘christ’, but he sobers, still smiling.

“I’d say that’s about right.”

“Though, you should be wary of signora Cavalli… she’s like a venus flytrap, you know?” You say seriously, but with a conspiratorial edge so that he knows you are only mostly joking. Bucky cocks his head in confusion, but chuckles.

“A what?!”

“A venus flytrap! You know! It’s a plant that looks all bright and colourful, but when bugs land on it it snaps shut!” You clap your hands together in demonstration.

“And then it eats them.”

“Are you… are you telling me signora Cavalli is going to eat me?” Bucky asks, eyebrows high and you take a moment to dramatically look him over.

“No. I don’t think you are her type. But she will start a conversation that will not end until either you or her dies, and trust me, she’s really old.” Bucky laughs again, hand on his belly this time, his head thrown back again, and you can’t help but break ‘character’ to laugh with him.

“Right. Avoid signora Cavalli. Gotcha.” He says as he calms, and again, he seems to have relaxed even more, the little pull that you had noticed between his brow yesterday, and earlier, even when he wasn’t frowning, had all but disappeared.

“Sounds like I need your guidance here. Clearly.” He continues, and you can’t help but feel excited by the prospect. You nod vigorously, and hop down from your ledge.

“Oh, definitely. I have lived here my whole life, I know all there is to know!” You tuck your book back under your arm and step nearer.

“I can show you around! There is more to Montecarra than there looks!” You pause and shrug.

“Well, a little more, at least.” Bucky appears torn for a moment, his face scrunching back into a polite concern as he holds his hands up.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, signora, I mean, Nina…” You roll your eyes and fold your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, signore, but there isn’t exactly anybody else my age around here… really you’d be doing me the favour…” He opens his mouth, but you quickly beckon him in a direction before he can argue, and you hear a faint sigh, and a few seconds later he’s matching your easy pace.

“I did notice that, actually…” He confirms, and you feel his gaze on the side of your face. His hands are back in his pockets, and he walks a respectable distance next to you.

“Well, there weren’t all that many to begin with but all the boys went off to fight, and the girls either got married and moved away, or left to study somewhere else.” You try to keep your voice light and airy, try not to betray your jealousy or sadness.

You had wanted to move to Paris and study, or London, anywhere, but the shadows of war had already begun, and it had been too uncertain. Looking back, you were reluctantly glad you had not been elsewhere. Your mother had needed you too much.

You come to another small courtyard, with a large tree at its center. It was one of the oldest in the town, and this part of the village had been built around it, as was obvious from the uneven and cracked stone ground, where the roots had grown large and disruptive.

You sling a hand around the trunk, slowly circling it in a careful swing, and Bucky oddly does the same, moving opposite you, so you are always on different sides. Oftentimes you were called childish or immature by others in Montecarra, though they never meant you harm by it. You were young at heart, and always would be. You know it was not proper for young women your age to be so restless, but you couldn’t sit still. Even just walking normally was a little boring after a while. You think it’s nice that this American man doesn’t ask you to stop or to stand still.

“You didn’t though?” Bucky asks, and then hurries to clarify.

“Get married or move away, I mean.” You chortle and lean a little further forward to see his face better as you both continually circle the tree.

“I was not good enough in school,” You lie.

“And no man would have me.” You laugh as you say it, not really meaning it. When there had been boys around Montecarra, you’d had no shortage of prospects, though how many of them would have actually married you was another question entirely.

Bucky scoffs, making an odd noise in his throat, and he fixes you with a look of disbelief.

“Well I know that can’t be right…” You smile, but look away at his kind words, before another thought hits you, and you stop moving, holding onto either side of the tree as you lean around it slightly.

“Montecarra must be exceptionally boring for you.”

Bucky stops moving too, and instead leans his side against the trunk, arms crossing over his chest as he looks down at you casually, eyebrow raised in question.

“To be in such a small town, with no women who aren’t married. Compared to Paris or Rome, I mean.”

You gasp suddenly then, and quickly switch sides, making Bucky have to turn too, and you can’t suppress your cheeky grin.

“Unless of course it’s married women who you’re after. No need to worry about commitment there.” You wiggle your eyebrows and Bucky’s face turns into a molten mess of amusement and bashfulness, sprinkled with pink cheeks.

He uncrosses his arms awkwardly and clears his throat uncomfortably, and you chortle, shaking your head. There was certainly part of him you could see being charming and suave, but for the most part, Sergeant James Barnes just seemed sweet. Eventually he just laughs too, also shaking his head, and he looks off for a moment, before he carefully turns to mirror your hold on the tree, leaning just slightly around it to look at you.

He still wears a coy look of meekness when he shrugs.

“You’re a woman who isn’t married, aren’t you?” He says softly, carefully, as if he’s not sure how you will respond, and does not wish to offend.

Offence is the last reaction in your mind though, instead you feel as if the world stops for a moment, and all that exists is you, this man, and the tree between you. Despite the carefulness of his words, his expression is a little harder, his gaze locked on yours more intense and you have to force yourself to look away, pulling back from the tree just to catch your breath and your rapidly beating heart.

Perhaps Sergeant James Barnes was sweet, but Bucky Barnes was a little more savoury than that. Suddenly, some of the things you’d read make more sense, and you find yourself reconsidering your interactions. Had he specifically sought you out? Or had he just been wandering and it was a happy coincidence. You lean toward the latter but perhaps he had hoped to see you again after your brief meeting yesterday?

You wipe these thoughts from your mind as Bucky too steps away from the tree, and fix him with an innocent smile and a shrug of your shoulder as you begin stepping backwards, ready to move along.

“I am.” You say simply, unsure of what else you even could say, but the moment seems to pass, and Bucky finally tears his eyes from you, watching his step as he makes to follow you again, down another narrow street.

You make light small talk with him as you move into busier parts of town, still a little shaken from his flirting (if that was what it was). He doesn’t seem to mind, and you realise you don’t need to fill the silence all of the time. He seems content to just look and watch, but when you do speak, to tell him something, or point out a particular shop, he listens carefully.

When you make it to one of the central courtyards of Montecarra, near the fountain where you had met him yesterday, you see that the afternoon sellers have set up at the market stalls where you’d been only this morning, helping sell. Jobs and money were hard to come by in your town, everything was so small and insular, and in the aftermath of the war, people had cared less about money to pay for goods and services, but rather taking care of each other in any way they could.

You were luckier than most towns, you’d been spared the massive damage of other places, but with resources still low, and many people still getting back on their feet, feeding each other had become a community job. Bakers would gladly accept trade for their bread, and doing chores or work for others had become a reliable way to not only give back but to earn too. The shops that had managed to remain open were supportive where they could be, and it made your heart swell several sizes to know that the war had not driven your people apart.

Bucky seems to take in the sights and smells of the markets with a dreamily like gaze, his eyes roaming over the leftover morning breads, some meats and vegetables that had not been bought or traded earlier in the week and where now for sale far cheaper.

Your stomach growls, reminding you that you have not yet eaten since your breakfast, and you groan. Usually you’d have set off home for lunch, or brought something with you, before returning to your nook, but being with Bucky had distracted you.

He looks down at you in response to your groan and you scrunch your nose.

“I would suggest we eat, but I left my purse at home.” You explain. Bucky blinks, and looks over at the food, then back at you.

“If you’re hungry, I can, I have my—” You tune him out accidentally as your mind conjures up a thought, and stop suddenly, reaching out and grabbing Bucky’s arm in excitement. He stops speaking and stares down at you.

“I have a better idea…!” You say, grinning widely, and he cocks his head, looking slightly hesitant.

You release his arm only to grab the rolled sleeve of his shirt, pulling him along after you down a sidetreet.

“What— Where are we going…?” He asks, and then continues.

“And why do I feel like it’s going to be trouble?” You laugh loudly, and throw him a look over your shoulder, releasing his sleeve at last when you’ve led him through a maze of tiny alleys and narrow streets and out to the edge of town, near the main road he’d driven in on.

“Trust me.” You say, drawing out the words long and sing-songy.

“Give me reason to…” He mutters, but when you look over at him again, you can see he’s only playing the part of exasperated, his lips pulled up in the corners, and his eyes amused.

He follows you as you lead him up a long road, well away from town and towards where the fields and fields of orchards and vineyards begin. When you veer off the side of the road, toward one of the wooden fences, he stops.

“What are you doing?” He asks, a little more nervous than before, and you turn to face him fully.

“We’re going into the orchard to pick some fruit.” He fixes you with a squinted stare.

“Something tells me that we’re not supposed to do that…” You roll your eyes.

“Nobody will know. Besides, we’ll only take a few.” You bat your eyelashes the best you can manage and watch his resolve crumble. When he sighs, hanging his head while shaking it, you know you’ve got him, so you smile widely and quickly return to making your way up the fence.

Bucky at first seems concerned with you climb, moving quickly over to attempt to lend you a hand, but you hardly need it, lifting your skirt and easily scaling the posts before you land on the other side. Bucky stares at you for a moment longer, before planting his hands on the top piece of wood, and in one large jump, vaults the thing entirely.

You laugh at the sight, and cock your head.

“They teach you that in the army?” You tease, leading him away from where you might be spotted by the road, and into the thick rows of trees.

“Brooklyn, actually.” He tells you, and you spy him repeatedly looking over his shoulder and around, as if suspecting some kind of ambush. You pause, nearly causing him to walk into you, and put your hand on his arm again.

“Nobody is out here. It gets too hot in the afternoons, so they do all their daily harvesting in the mornings.” Bucky stares down at you, the little crease between his brows returning, but he nods at your words anyway.

Turning away from him, you once more gather up part of your skirt, lifting it well above a decent length, to use as a basket of sorts as you start inspecting some of the goods on ‘offer’.

“The peaches are especially good this time of year.” You say over your shoulder, reaching out to gently squeeze a few hanging from the nearest tree.

“I— What…?” Bucky asks, and when you look back at him, you see the vague pinkness back in his cheeks and refrain from rolling your eyes. Instead, you plaster on an innocent smile and hold up one of the fruits you’d plucked from the branch.

“The peaches. They’re very ripe right now. Montecarra always has the juiciest peaches. You can’t eat them without getting your fingers and mouth all sticky.” You look away then, placing the peach into your skirt and fight yourself to keep from laughing. Bucky remains quiet behind you, until you hear him let out a slightly shaky breath.

“Jesus fucking christ…” He mumbles in English, and you wipe the grin from your face before he can see it, as he finally steps closer to join you.

You end up with a nice collection of peaches, apples and some figs. You don’t take much, just a few, and by the time you’re walking the road back into town, your grumbling stomach is sated. You spent a few hours walking along the rows of trees, just talking and eating.

Before you properly enter Montecarra, Bucky tosses your peach pits, and you watch them fly through the air and disappear into some of the empty fields beyond. He looks down at you with a rather cute, proud and expectant smile, and you nod, clapping just slightly.

“Perhaps they will grow and we will have our own orchard.” You tell him, and he sniffs in amusement.

“Or we’ll have to explain where we got the seeds from in the first place.”

“Or that.” You laugh, nudging his side.

You notice he’d stopped keeping quite as large a distance between you when you walked, though you don’t know if it was conscious or not. The late afternoon sun bathes Montecarra in orange and red and shadows, and by the time you’ve walked across town to where you live, the sunset is well and truly in motion.

Sensing your time has come to an end, Bucky slows slightly, stopping when you turn back to him, and point to your house.

“I live here.” You tell him, and he shoves his hands in his pockets with a nod.

“My mama will expect me to help with dinner.” You explain further, though you aren’t sure why. You didn’t need a reason to part with him, it was early evening now and you’d spent the better half of five hours walking and talking and stealing fruit together.

You see Bucky’s eyes drift behind you, past the open archway of the wall that held your home behind it, and then back to you.

“Thanks for showing me around today. You didn’t have to.” He says and you smile, but shrug.

“Of course.”

You hold his gaze for a moment longer before he nods, pulling a hand from his pocket to give you a parting wave.

“Goodnight.” He says softly, and turns, beginning to make his way back.

You step forward without thinking too much and call out, making him pause and look back at you.

“I— I work in the mornings, but you can always find me at the same place, where I was reading today. From about midday on. I’m always there… if you ever want to see me again.” You try to play it off cooler than you feel, shrugging a bit and giving him a nonchalant grin, but he only watches you.

Just as you start to feel discomfort creep in her shifts, dipping his chin slightly and cocking his head.

“I would like to see you again.” He says at last, and it’s just like earlier, around the tree. You feel a thick tension form between you, and even though he’s several meters away from you now, you feel like he may as well have been directly in front of you.

All you can manage is a nervous chuckle, dropping your eyes to the floor and anxiously tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Okay.” You say, and he must take that as your approval, because he smiles softly, and gives you one last parting nod before he walks away.

You watch him go for longer than you’d like to admit, right up until he disappears and you hear your mama call you from the front door.

—-

You see Bucky most days. After you had finished with your daily workload, you would return as normal to your little archway, only pretending to read until Bucky arrived. Sometimes he would bring his own book, and sit beside you in one of the opposite arches, but most days you spent walking aimlessly, talking about everything and nothing.

He would tell you about New York city, describing the streets and the buildings and the people in such detail you could see it in your mind. He’d show you pictures of places he’d been, other cities and towns in Italy and France and you’d been unable to keep from fawning dramatically over each.

You’d been warned by a few of the older local ladies, that American soldiers were notorious for the dalliances with girls, they’d have them and leave them, moving on to the next place as if it were nothing. But Bucky is different, you think. You weren’t so naive to think a man set on simply chasing what he wanted would change for just you, but Bucky never showed intention to chase. Not really.

He was kind, and sweet, and he never spoke to impress you like you’d seen with some boys before. He listened to you, asked for your opinions on subjects you spoke about and never assumed that you weren’t informed. You had revealed your love for reading to him, and he’d not complained once when you’d ranted for far too long about the plot of your newest book.

He never even tried to hold your hand, which was beginning to trouble you. You had given him plenty of opportunity, walking accidentally too close, and brushing your hand by his just slightly. He’d always apologised or ignored it, and you were becoming frustrated. It was not as if his flirting had stopped, when the opportunity arose he’d coyly spout sweet things that made your stomach churn something awful.

You look up from the page you’d been staring at for the past ten minutes without really seeing it, and blink. Perhaps you were wrong and he was just this way all of the time… but then you remember the moments of intense eye contact when he’d look at you and it felt like nothing else in the world existed at all.

No. no, you decide that perhaps you will have to give him a little push.

“Has d’Artagnan won the heart of Lady Constance yet? Or is love dead?” The voice, his voice, startles you so much you squeak, whipping around to find where Bucky has situated himself against the same wall your archway sits in, leaning on one shoulder with his arms crossed over his chest.

Today he hadn’t changed from his morning’s work, and you have to simply give yourself a moment to take in his uniform. It wasn’t the dress greens you’d seen on men in the newspapers, instead he wears a greeny-brown colour, the material slightly thicker in appearance, rougher almost. In lieu of the long dress coat, he wears a jacket that ends just over where you imagine his belt might be, cinching in his form rather nicely. His shirt bears the same colour as his suit, but his tie is a familiar khaki. Pins and medals and ribbons adorn his chest and you want to inspect each one up close, but you refrain.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, sweetheart.” He flashes a smile, letting you know he’d noticed your long, admiring stare. Sunglasses cover his own eyes, refusing you access to their cool colour, and you hope he takes them off. Your mouth feels dry but you force yourself to shift to face him, hanging your legs over the side of the wall once more.

“Startled is not scared.” You correct, and watch as he pushes off from the wall casually, making his way to where you sit. He’s tall enough that should he so wish, he could climb into your archway no problem, but he doesn’t, simply resting his folded arms on the ledge next to your legs, looking up at you. At this angle, you can see behind his glasses, to where his eyes fixate on your face.

“You didn’t answer my question?” He probes and you have to think back, unsure of what he’d even asked you.

“Has d’Artagnan won over Lady Constance yet?” He reminds you, reaching out to pluck your copy of The Three Musketeers from your lap and study the cover.

“No, I was going to read more last night but the power went out again and I don’t trust myself not to fall asleep with a candle burning.” You sigh, pushing some hair from your eyes. Bucky places the book gently back down and hums.

“Did you come straight from work?” You ask, switching the subject, and as if he doesn’t notice his clothing, he peeks down at himself briefly, before he cocks his head and gifts you another grin.

“What, can’t a guy wear his uniform around a gal to impress her?” He counters, clearly joking. You scoff anyway and lightly shove his arm.

“I think I’m sick of military uniforms…” You had meant it as a continuation of his joke, but you mean the words far too much to avoid the melancholy that seeps in.

You force yourself to look away, and take a few deep breaths.

Bucky had gotten around to asking you the obvious question of how you, with your brown skin and ‘ethnic’ features, had not suffered during the war. You told him the truth; that your neighbours had hidden you and your mother in attics and basements for nearly five years.

He’d been quiet and pensive on your answer, before telling you he understood why you spent so much time in the ridiculously hot sun. He’d made you laugh, something that you hadn’t ever thought you could do when speaking about your time during the war.

A hand gently, feather-light, curls over your own in your lap, and it takes everything in you not to jump. When you look back at him, his features are sad and serious and he gives your fingers a squeeze.

“Me too, darlin’.”

You want to say something, to maybe turn your hand over and feel his palm against yours, but before you can he removes it from yours, pushing back off the wall.

“I had an idea earlier, when we were clearing the rubble away.” He extends his arm to you, waiting patiently for you to make the short jump down from your perch. Linking your arm with his, he turns you to begin walking, but reaches out and plucks your book from you, tucking it into his jacket.

“An idea? I’m not helping with the mess…” You tease, and he gives you a sideways look.

“No. Riccardo said if I were truly suffering so much in the heat, I should go to the beach.” You perk immediately, gasping softly. You hadn’t been to the beach in so long.

“The beach!” You repeat, and Bucky grins, pride showing clearly through at his effort to delight you.

“I was thinking we could grab my camera, and head on down for the afternoon. I don’t think I have anything to swim in but even just dipping my toes…” You’re already nodding frantically, pulling away from his arm as you clap and do a little jump. You really couldn’t help it, you hadn’t been down to the water in many years.

“Yes! Though, did he tell you how long a walk it was? We should be careful of it getting too dark, my mama has already started—”

“—We can just drive.” Bucky shrugs, and you pause, blinking. Yes, you knew he had a car the army lent him, you’d seen it once or twice even but…

“I’ve…” You trail off and stop speaking entirely, shaking your head, and trying to plaster back on your previous excitement, but Bucky had already seen the slight fall to your face, and he frowns.

“What? What’s wrong?” He steps forward, toward you a little, his hand absently out as if to take your arm, though he drops it a moment later.

“It’s nothing. It’s silly.” You attempt to brush him off but he only moves closer still, right up to you now, and this time, the tension isn’t the same as it had been before.

His head bows down toward you, his frame nearly cocooning yours, if anybody were to be standing behind him, they likely would not be able to see you. His hand does touch your arm this time, comforting, concerned and all of it makes your heart flutter like a million happy butterflies.

“I… It’s just that… I’ve never been in a car before.” You admit, and it really is a silly thing to make such a fuss over. Bucky must breathe a sigh of relief that your dramatics hadn’t been about something more serious, but you don’t see his expression or body language change at all for a few seconds.

“... Ever…?” When he does speak, there’s no amusement in his voice, no awe at how backwards and small your growing up had been that you’d never been in a car. He just… asks.

You shrug.

“We don’t need them here…” His face does relax a little, and he must realise how much he’s been crowding you because he clears his throat and shuffles back slightly, letting his hand leave your arm.

“Well… I think you’ll like it. It’s fast.” He says, before frowning.

“Not— not too fast.” He adds, and you have to smile.

“Well… Why don’t I go put my book away, I’ll find some bread and fixings and you can go change, and I will meet you at your cottage?” You suggest. You didn’t want to go all the way down to the beach without some sort of food, even if he said the trip would be fast in his car. It would also give you a chance to change from your day dress into something that you wouldn’t mind getting a little wet or sandy.

Bucky nods.

“Yeah. Okay. You know where it is?” You roll your eyes.

“Of course.” He hangs his head a little, and lifts his hands in defeat.

“Small town, grew up here. Got it.” You laugh. He’d mentioned once how even though he’d spent his whole life in Brooklyn, knew the streets and the major locations like the back of his hand, there were still places he’d never know where to even start looking for.

You part ways then, and quickly hurry home, the excitement thrumming through your veins once again. Not only were you going to get to go to the beach, but you were going to ride in a car!

You toss your book onto your bed without a second thought, quickly undressing and slipping on a lighter, older dress. It’s faded pale blue told it’s age, but the fabric was thinner, meaning you would have no problem if it got wet. You decide not to bother with stockings, removing both them and your garter in favour of feeling the sand with your bare feet instead, and slip your shoes back on.

Before you leave your bedroom, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror and pause. Turning your face from side to side, you inspect your features carefully. You never bothered with makeup, it was expensive and you’d only end up sweating it off, but your eyes do linger on your lips for a moment.

Creeping upstairs, you sneak into your mother’s bedroom. She was out for coffee at one of your neighbours, still, you feel nervousness take hold when you find the small golden tube in her drawer. Taking a deep breath, you uncap the lipstick and lean forwards for a better view, before carefully swiping the deep red colour across your lower lip. You follow suit with the upper, fixing it here and there, and swiping to try and neaten it up, but when you stand back to inspect yourself, you groan in frustration.

You didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard, and your painted lips and bareface didn’t communicate that at all. Grabbing a tissue, you quickly work to remove the makeup, rubbing at your lips until the bulk of the colour is off. However, when you stop to check again, you find the red has somewhat stained your skin. It only really adds a subtle flushed red over your usually brown lips, but it's still noticeable, and you panic, grabbing another tissue and trying again to no avail.

Time ticks by and you check your watch, not wanting to make Bucky wait too long, and so you pocket the stained tissues and take a last look in the mirror. Your shoddy clean up job would have to do. At least the stains were on your lips and not around them.

In the kitchen you gather up a small selection of items in a basket, just some bread and butter and homemade jam, and tuck an old blanket over the top to secure it all, and so that you could sit on it later. Checking everything one last time, you slide the basket to the crook of your arm and close up your house behind you.

You have to stop yourself from skipping as you make your way through the streets, smiling and greeting those who pass you politely and not like a mad woman. By the time you make it to Bucky’s little cottage, you can already see him leaning back against the car, waiting. He straightens when he sees you, smiling as you slow down, feeling almost hesitant about approaching the car.

“Here, lemme take this…” You let him grab the basket from you and watch him open one of the back doors, placing it on the floor, behind a seat. When he shuts the door again with a click, he turns to look at you in a both expectant and patient manner.

“Shall we?” He gestures to the other side of the car, and you let him lead you around it, swallowing as he pulls open the front side door for you.

“There you go. You know, you’re lucky this is your first car ride. This is a nice car, apparently.” You let Bucky take your hand to help you in, and for the few seconds after he’s shut your door behind you, and you see him jog around to the driver’s seat, you feel an immense awkwardness settle over you.

When he’s climbed in beside you, he gestures to something above your head.

“Here, that’s your seat belt. I know a lotta people don’t bother with them, but… better safe than sorry, right?” You nod, and reach out to grab the little buckle, not realising that the sun had been baking the metal since it had come up.

You rip your fingers away from it with a hiss, cradling them to your chest. Bucky jerks and is immediately leaning over to help you.

“Shit! Sorry, I— I forgot to tell you to be careful of the— here, look, you gotta grab the plastic part…” Your slightly burnt fingers are all but forgotten when Bucky leans right over you, directly into your space as he pulls at the belt, drawing it down and across your body, to your hip.

You watch him click the buckle together and blink up at him when he leans back, face still pulled in a wince.

“You okay?”

“Yes… I just wasn’t expecting it… it didn’t really hurt that much…” He looks like he wants to say something more, his eyes darting down to where you lower your hand back to your lap, and your face, but he eventually settles with a nod.

“Okay. Okay.” He repeats, twisting to face frontwards in his seat again as he begins readying the car. You watch him fiddle with the keys, jumping slightly when the engine roars to life all around you, but you only chuckle at the look Bucky sends you. He lifts one hand from the wheel, to hold onto a tall gear stick in the center console, shifting it a few times before you feel the car begin to move.

Despite your nerves, you can’t help but feel the excitement in your bones, and as Bucky starts to slowly drive along the outer roads of the town, toward the western most side, you can’t stop yourself from staring out the window.

It wasn’t as if you’d never seen any of these places before, but it felt different now. You feel Bucky’s eyes flick over to you every so often, a low chuckle you can barely hear above the car reaching you, but you’re too enthralled to do more than return his smile briefly.

You settle down a bit as you hit the main road. It's still a very new experience to be moving so quickly down a road you’d only ever been along at a walk. Bucky seems content in the quiet, but about halfway through the trip, he changes his hand on the steering wheel, to reach down for something on the side of his door. You watch him fumble for a moment, before he behinds winding a little lever, and you turn your gaze to where the window now rolls down, filling the car with fresh air and the sound of light wind.

“You’ve got one too,” He briefly takes his eyes from the road to point your own window lever out to you, and excitedly, you rush to unwind it. You laugh then, like a child, and lean forward to get a better view, to feel the wind blow over your face. It doesn’t last long though, the second you feel your hair get thrown about, you yip, ducking away with another laugh, but attempting to smooth back your hair again.

Bucky grins over at you, and he shuffles, keeping one hand on the steering wheel, resting his elbow on the window frame casually. With his spare hand, he rests it on his thigh, fingers tapping.

“Lotta women wear a scarf, to keep their hair from getting wrecked…” He tells you, and you make a note for if you ever ride in the car again.

“You were right.” You tell him, finally sitting back in your seat and relaxing. Bucky cocks his head, briefly glancing at you, but mostly he keeps his eyes forward.

“Hmn?”

“I do like this.”

You arrive at the beach in no time at all, the lone western road leading right down to the water. Bucky brings the car to a stop away from the road, on a patch of grass that separates the rest of the land from the sand dunes. On your right, some ways away, the land lifts, creating a rocking cliffside that encloses this section of beach neatly. You knew from your childhood that there were some caves accessible, but you’d always been told to stay well away.

Bucky grabs the basket from the backseat, and you wait for him to catch up with you before you begin treading down onto the sand. The sand is hot and pale, and the smell of sea water calls you, but as much as you’d love to throw yourself toward it, you direct Bucky to a small cropping of rocks and boulders that rested near the dunes, far enough back that the incoming tide wouldn’t reach them, but near enough to the water to be sure your things would be kept safe.

Bucky follows your lead as you kick your shoes off, climbing to the top of the largest boulder easily, it's jagged surface perfect for climbing, as long as you didn’t step on a spike. The boulder stands almost up to Bucky’s chest, and was quite large from a top side view. You beckon him to give you your basket and he watches as you quickly lay out the blanket. When he can see you settling, he joins you, scaling the rock quickly, and taking a seat beside you, where you’ve now begun to pull the bread and spreads from the basket.

“This is a nice spot.” He says scanning the horizon critically. You see his gaze turn up towards the nearby cliffs, scrutinizing them thoroughly with slightly squinted eyes. His face is so intense, you can’t help but look too, wondering what it was he was seeing, but when you turn back to him, he snaps out of it, plastering an easy smile on his face.

You open your mouth to question what he’d been looking at when he grabs the jame, and turns it over in his hands.

“Homemade?” He asks, clearly excited by the prospect, and even though you still want to know what he’d just been thinking about, you let it go, recognising a subject change when you saw one.

“Yes. My mama is very good at cooking. She cooks a lot for other people.” You tell him, buttering a thick slice of bread before handing it to him.

“Do you?” He puts the jam down as he takes the bread and a butter knife from you, beginning to spread some of the sweet, jellied fruit. You scrunch your nose.

“I don’t cook a lot. Mama says I should do more.” You roll your eyes and Bucky snorts.

“Why?”

“So that when I get married my husband won’t be displayed… or something.” You bring one of your legs to a bent position, like you were crossing your legs but only chose to do one, and shift your center of balance to be more comfortable.

The blanket was a nice touch, but it didn’t make the rock you sat on any more homey.

“I don’t understand… why women have to do so much to keep a man. If they love you, shouldn’t they not care about how well you cook or how clean your house is?” You glance at him, genuinely asking. Bucky was, as you well knew, a man, he may have insight you did not. He frowns, mulling over his thoughts as he chews his mouthful.

“I think some guys want a housekeeper more than a partner. I don’t think a lot of mother’s help that, either.” It’s your turn to frown and you cock your head, gesturing he go on. He adjusts a little, and looks off as he speaks, only glancing back at you a few times as he explains.

“It’s a cycle, right? A lady gets married, she looks after her husband, they have kids, a boy and a girl,” He pauses, takes a small bite, chews, swallows and continues.

“Now, as the girl gets older, mother starts to prepare her for when she’ll get married, so she takes on some of the household chores. The son however, he gets looked after right up until he leaves the nest. His food is cooked for him, his room is cleaned, his clothes washed…” You start understanding what he means, and nod slowly.

“By the time he’s serious about looking for a girl, he thinks they should be how his ma and pa were. I’m sure there’s love and affection, but in his mind, if she’s not doing those same things he grew up with, then how much can she really love him?” He ends with a shrug, looking at you, and you have to admit you’re genuinely surprised by his honest point of view.

But he sits up a little straighter then, and points to himself with the bread still in his hand.

“My mother would never let me get away with that.” He tells you solemnly, and you chortle at his deeply serious, over the top expression.

“Oh?”

“No ma’am. When I was sixteen she showed me how to use the machines at the laundromat, and if my room wasn’t spick and span at the end of the week I’d get it.” You laugh at the thought of a woman with Bucky’s same eyes making him remake his bed.

“And cooking?” You press, and Bucky shrugs again.

“I grew up watching her cook, helping her in the kitchen… I ain’t sayin’g I’m good. But I wouldn’t starve.” You laugh again, his stories uplifting on your general view of how things were ‘Supposed To Be’.

“Anyway, the point is, the only thing that makes a good husband or wife is that you care about one another. Everything else is negotiable.” You grin, and nod, look out at the water as he words sink in, before you sharply side eye him.

“Everything except fidelity. I’d cut off my man’s—” You cut yourself off before you can say too much, but Bucky has already begun howling with laughter, leaning all the way back to rest on his elbows, he places a hand to his chest as he guffaws gleefully.

When he calms down, still snickering quietly he nods several times to himself and gives you a look.

“I don’t doubt you for a second, sweetheart.” Your chest flutters again at not just the pet name, he’d taken to using various ones, but the softness in his voice when he says it. It makes you nervous, it makes your stomach feel like the rolling waves of the ocean before you are happening simultaneously in there too.

“Right, well. Let's cool off, huh?”

Bucky rolls his pant legs up to just above his knees before he treads into the shallows, and you lift your skirt just a little as you join him. You wallow about in the water for some time, talking about nothing in particular. At one point, he realises he’d left his camera in the car, and races back up to get it, returning with a piece of photo paper already developing in his fingers.

“Took one from the dunes. It’s a nice view.” He explains as you lean over to peer at the little print. You can make out your figure, distant in the photo.

Bucky takes several more pictures, of the cliffs, of the long expanse of shoreline on the other side… You let him be for a while, moving back up to the rock and the blanket, perching yourself on the edge as you just take in the cool sea breeze and watch Bucky move about, deeply focused.

It was sweet really, though you don’t know how many of the shots look the same.

The warm sun and your general relaxed mood lull you to lie back, fixating your gaze on the blue skies and clouds above. Your skin grows warm and a little moist under such direct sunlight, but it feels nice. You aren’t sure how long you lie there for, you even doze off for a little bit, but some time later, you hear Bucky approaching.

“Can I take your picture?” He asks as you sit up, shielding your eyes for a moment as you do.

“Me?”

“Yeah.” You want to protest that he shouldn’t waste his photo paper on you, but he’s already stepping back and bringing the camera up to check if he’s too close or far.

“Wait, let me move.” You tell him, shifting to sit side on, with your feet on the rock and your knees bent up, like you would sit in your reading nook. Bucky waits for you like you ask, adjusting a little notch on his camera before he lifts it back to his eye, peering through. You expect him to take the photo right away but instead you see his lips part and his tongue swipe out to wet them as he swallows and draws the device away again.

“Uh, your— your skirt sweetheart, it's…” He trails off and gestures at his own thigh, prompting you to glance down at yourself.

Oh.

With your legs up like this, and perhaps with the help of a little sea breeze, your dress had shifted far up the length of your leg, far more than what was proper or should be photographed, and yet, your mind begins to whir.

You cock your head innocently, and hook your finger under the hem, drawing it back even further, until almost the whole side of your leg was on display. As you do, you pop your shoulder forward and rest your chin on it, grinning widely, invitingly.

Bucky just stares for several moments, and you see him swallow again. He seems to fumble with bringing the camera back to his face, and you see his mouth in what you’re certain is English cussing. It only makes your grin that much wider.

He takes the picture, lowering the camera immediately to catch the photo it spits out, though, he keeps glancing back up at you. You only flutter your eyelashes as best you can and make sure to fix your skirt somewhat. You sit forward again, and rest your hands either side of your legs, leaning toward where Bucky still stands.

“May I see?” You ask, and he jerks, starting toward you right away.

“Y--yeah. Of course…” You note with a quiet snicker how he stands at least two feet away from you when he holds out the photograph, and you take it from him, inspecting it.

“This is a good one.” You tell him.

“Yep. Yeah. It is.” He’s aware you’re teasing him now, and you give him a smile over the top of the picture.

“You won’t throw it away?”

“Why… why the hell would I throw it away?” You shrug and hold it out to give back.

“I don’t know…”

Bucky reaches out for it, but just before he can take it from you, you pull it back.

“On second thoughts, I don’t know if you can be trusted with this.” His face resembles a rain cloud, his frown confused and deep.

“What?”

“I think it might end up in the bottom of a box somewhere… I should keep it.” Your lip quirks, and he can see the cogs turning as he realises you’re only playing. He rolls his eyes and goes to grab it from you again, but you pull it away again.

Before he can corner you where you sit, you jump off the rock, ducking to the side as he lunges, making you squeal.

“Come on, sweetheart, let me have it…” You keep moving backwards, even as you turn to face him, the photo clutched to your chest. Bucky has turned to pursue you, though he’s only walking, hands on his hips.

“You’ll have to catch me!” You take off running, unable to keep from laughing as you do, Bucky’s own chortling reaching you as he gives chase.

You duck and weave out of his reach, and even though he’s far bigger and fitter than you, you were smaller, and the drag of the sand didn’t affect you as much. He almost gets you twice, his fingers grazing your dress, and when he does finally catch you, it’s with his arms around your middle, seizing you mid stride and pulling you back.

The momentum sends you both tumbling to the sand, your back hitting it lightly. Bucky falls over you, though he catches himself before he can crush you proper. All you can do is laugh, breathless from the chase and from the fall, and most certainly from the fact Bucky now lays atop you.

He’s laughing too, his face close and his breathe warm. He shifts to lift one hand and pluck the photo from your fingers, still held to your chest, trapped their by his own body. He’s still smiling when he makes a show of placing the photo in his top pocket, and buttoning it close, and then he drops his hand, resting it back in the sand by your head.

“I caught you.” He says simply, and all you can do is nod dumbly. His eyes fall to your mouth, and you suddenly remember the lipstick debacle. You’re about to make an excuse, or explain what had happened, when he leans in, dropping his lips to your own softly. You don’t mean to, but you gasp quietly, heat pooling in your face when you feel Bucky smile, and hear his light chuckle.

He doesn’t stop though, and you gladly return the kiss at last, lifting your chin so he could reach you easier or have more of you, you don’t know. Bucky shifts over you, his knee digging into the sand as he lifts some of his weight off of you, but before you can complain, he’s holding your face, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.

When you part, reluctantly, you’re all too aware of how heavy you’re breathing, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Bucky’s eyes drop to watch for a moment, and you feel goosebumps crawl over your skin, but he looks away, moving to get off of you.

“Uhm… that okay?” He asks, scratching the back of his head a little awkwardly. You’re still just lying in the sand, watching him and trying to catch your breath.

He stands, and leans down to offer you a hand that you accept. You let him pull you to your feet, and by that time you’ve gotten at least a semblance of your sanity back. He’s looking at you cautiously, concerned maybe, but you intend to rectify that.

He hardly has time to catch you as you jump for him, legs wrapped around his middle, your arms around his neck, Bucky lets out a loud, hearty laugh as he makes to secure his hold on you. You lean in and kiss him again, heated at first, but then softer, until you’re only peppering little pecks to his lips.

“I’m gonna go with that being okay, then.” He confirms to himself. You giggle, like a schoolgirl with a crush, and realise he’d been walking the whole time he’d been carrying you. He sets you down atop the rock, hands gliding under where he’d been holding your legs, before quickly removing them, like he didn’t want to overstep.

“You had better not lose that picture.” You warn, making him chuckle, and pat his pocket.

“Oh, trust me darlin’. It’s not going anywhere.”

The sun had already begun to set, and so you make quick work of packing up the small amount of belongings you brought. As you walk back to the car, Bucky carries the basket in one arm, and with the other, he reaches out to take your hand, firmly and securely, interlocking your fingers, and you feel your whole being ascend.

He doesn’t let go of your hand in the car either, reaching out to hold it there too, your intertwined hands resting on your thigh. It’s all too short however, and far too soon he’s parking the vehicle and helping you out.

“I’ll walk you back.” He tells you and you frown.

“What? No, you’re already home, I can—”

“—I’ll walk you back.” He says again, firmer, but with a playfulness that stops you from arguing further.

You wait for him to get your basket from the backseat, and when he does join you around at the rear of the car, his face lights up in realisation.

“Oh! Wait. Hold this for a sec…” He gently thrusts the basket into your hands and you blink, watching him jog into the cottage.

He reappears a few minutes later, carrying something long and cylindrical in his hand, and as he approaches you again, he flips it, catching it smoothly.

“Flashlight. For… for if your power goes out again…” He drops it in your basket before he takes it from you again, and you’re so genuinely touched by the gesture you’re frozen for a few seconds.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky frowns, cocking his head, but you snap out of it, leaning in to wrap your arms around his neck, only a hug this time. His free arms wraps around you instantly, and you aren’t sure you’ll ever get over how nice it feels to be held.

“Thank you. That’s very kind…” You say when you pull back. He just smiles at you, before offering you his arm, and walking you home.

—-

He takes you on a picnic.

It’s such a quaint idea that when he mentions it to you one afternoon, after kissing you goodbye on your doorstep, you can’t help but feel your eyes light up like two cartoonish hearts.

Bucky had assured you he would source the meal and perhaps some wine, but he’d need your basket once more, and the next day you find yourself lounging lazily under the shade of a tree, in the empty fields outside of town.

He’d brought bread, fruit and a bottle of red wine that you’d be very excited by right up until you’d had your first taste.

Bucky burst out in laughter at your expression, nose scrunched and brow furrowed, and he gracefully takes your glass from your hand.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, it's an acquired taste…” He chortles, and you gladly let him pour what's left of your drink into his own, but you notice he doesn’t really touch it throughout lunch.

You talk for hours, clearing up the blanket so you can lie down next to one another and gaze at the cloudy blue sky. You ask Bucky to tell you once more about New York City, and as he speaks you gaze at him, gesturing wildly with his hands and smiling back at you every so often.

He was so pretty, for a boy, his eyes so blue, hair dark and lovely and smooth looking. Even his stubbly chin and cheeks, where you could clearly see he’d shaved just this morning look nice, and without really thinking, you reach out and brush the backs of your fingers over his jaw.

Bucky stops speaking, turning his head slightly to regard you softly, but you don’t stop. From the way he spoke about the war and missing his home, you think maybe it has been a while since he’d felt such gentle touches.

“See somethin’ you like, darlin’?” His smirk is barely a smirk, it's far too soft for that, but there’s still a hint of cheekiness in his gaze that draws you in. Laughing quietly, you rise to your elbow, leaning into his side where he’d previously been lying a respectable distance from you and press your lips to his jaw, then his cheek, and at last his lips.

Bucky kisses you back immediately, like he always did, lips moving softly against your own, carefully cupping the side of your face and pulling you down against him even further. Your heart races when he sits up without breaking apart from you, pushing you back so your positions are reversed. Out here you were practically alone, and even if somebody did come driving down the main road, with the tall grass nobody would be able to see you.

You wrap your hands up behind his head, tugging him down more, until he’s leaning against you fully, his forearms encasing either side of your head, a knee slipping between your own as your tongue slips between his lips. Your nearly come apart thena nd there when he moans, muffled by your kiss, but erotic all the same, and he seems to move more feverishly, kissing your quicker, bearing down against you harder.

You resist the urge to wrap a leg around him, but instead let your fingers scratch gently at the back of his neck, feeling yourself sink further and further into bliss with each tiny stroke of his tongue against yours, and each press of his clearly hardening length between your thighs.

You almost unhook your hands from his neck to lift your dress when he pulls back. At first he simply lays his forehead against your own, his eyes shut tight, and you watch him with rising disappointment and heavy breathing as he gently shifts his weight off of you, and dips his lips to kiss the tip of your nose, and then chastley at your lips.

“I uh… this probably isn’t a good idea…” You deflate, but push it aside. If he did not wish to go further, you wouldn’t pressure him. Still, the gentle ache between your thighs resists, begging for friction, for satisfaction. Bucky looks down at you, lips kissed raw and pupils dilated and it takes everything in you not to go for his pants then and there. He smooths down what he can of your hair, tucking some wilder pieces behind your ear before he kisses your nose again, and lays back down beside you.

On the walk back, the both of you are oddly silent, and although it isn’t uncomfortable, you still don’t like the awkwardness. You always felt like you could be truthful with Bucky, and you didn’t want to change that now, so tugging on his hand a little you slow your pace.

“I would have had sex with you, you know?” You squint at him and he blinks rapidly, face blushing quickly as he checks around to make sure there was nobody else present.

“Wha— I wasn’t—”

“—I’m not a virgin. I know what I’m doing.” You further assert, and he only continues to cough awkwardly, trying to reign in his clear embarrassment.

“Men aren’t the only ones who like sex. You always think us women are so eager to wait and ‘save ourselves’.” You roll your eyes then, and walk past him.

You don’t look back, but soon enough he’s hurrying to fall in beside you once more, taking your hand again even as he swallows.

“I never said you were, I just… I guess I’m not used to ladies talkin’ about it so… well, at all…” You side-eye him wryly and shrug.

“Look around, Bucky. In a town this small, there isn’t much else to do except each other. But all the boys have left now…” You shrug again, and this time Bucky laughs, letting out a slow puff of air.

“I guess.” He wears a look on his face like he wants to say something else, but he stays quiet. You slow down as you approach your home, and you’re about to ask when he stops just short of the steps leading into your front courtyard, and takes both your hands.

“I guess I wouldn’t want to take advantage. I’d want you to be sure.”

You purse your lips and roll your eyes again.

“I’m not a naive little girl.”

He laughs again and draws you near, quickly checking about to make sure no neighbour would spy the kiss he presses to your lips.

“And I’m not a boy.” The words send a thrill up your spine, and now more than ever you wish he hadn’t pulled away earlier. You swallow as he looks down at you, eyes intense and fiery and this time it’s your turn to swallow.

“I— I know…” You manage, and for a moment you can’t stop staring at one another.

Eventually, Bucky squeezes your hands and nods his head toward your home.

“You’d better—”

“—Oh! Yes… Goodnight…”

Bucky watches you as you make your way to your door and tips his hat when you look back at him before you close it.

“Goodnight.”

—-

Bucky can’t sleep.

It's late, he really should have been asleep hours ago, but he can’t stop thinking about you and what you’d said. As much as he curses himself for not seeking out the moment when he’d had you under him in the field, he’s also glad. You deserved more than a quick rut on a picnic blanket, and yet his mind wanders to Parisian nights, except all the women in his memories are replaced with you.

Would you be loud? Quiet? Would you say his name, drawn out and breathy? He decides he wants to find out.

It takes him no time at all to walk to your house, and when he’s climbed the side wall of the enclosed courtyard into the back garden, he sneaks on around to the open window on the first floor.

Surprisingly, you were either far from asleep yourself, or you had been suspecting his visit. You sit up in bed right away, but smile and hold a finger to your lips as you creep across to the window. Bucky leans against it comfortably, holding your hand when you half climb through to sit on the sill, legs dangling out beside him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, though your demeanour seems to be far more girlish, far more pleased-but-scandalised than you had been earlier, talking so frankly about sex. Bucky gives you his best smile and shrugs.

“Wanted to see you. What’re you doing awake?” He nods to your bed, the book and torch clearly lying amidst your sheets.

“I was reading.”

“I can go if you’d—”

“—No!” You whisper, socking him lightly in the shoulder, as if it were a ridiculous thought to even suggest he leave. In the moonlight he thinks you look lovelier than ever, and he scoots closer, until he’s resting his arms across your thighs and gazing up at you softly.

“We have to talk quietly though, my mother’s room is above mine and her window is also open…” You point, and Bucky looks, see’s the curtains billowing slightly out, and he nods.

“I’d let you in, but I think you might dissolve into a blush.” You tease him, and Bucky immediately perks, eyes lighting up at the challenge. He pulls his arms off of your lap and cocks his head.

“Well I’m here, aren’t I?” He asks slowly, letting a hand gently curve up your calf. Your nightdress covers you from the knee up, but he ignores it, reaching underneath to massage softly at your thigh.

You don’t take your eyes off of him, even when he lowers his gaze to carefully push your knees apart. If anything you seem to lean back on your palms, watching him intently. Bucky meets your eye again when he snakes his hand further, forgoing your leg entirely to press the pads of his fingers against your core, eliciting a sharp inhale from the both of you.

“You don’t wear underwear to bed?” He can’t help but ask, pants suddenly restrictively tight and you breathe out slowly, clearly trying to remain quiet as he lets his fingers simply glide through you slick.

“Only when I’m expecting company.” You tell him, and he chortles, stepping closer and pressing his lips to yours.

Your head angles back for him, letting him set the pace of the kiss and gently, Bucky presses one finger inside. You almost gasp, but he kisses you harder, pulling back again just slightly, so your lips brush when he speaks.

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” You nod vigorously, eyes not even opening to meet his, and Bucky leans back further, content to watch your head lull back and mouth part in the softest breathiest moans he’s ever heard as he slowly pumps his one finger in and out of you.

He’s laser focused on the task at hand, even despite his rock hard cock, and soon he’s adding another finger, slowly letting them sink deep into your velvety wet heat, his pride stoked when you further part your legs for him. He uses his free hand to push your nightdress up around your hips, and he nearly groans at the sight. Licking his lips he sets his eyes back on you, leaning in to nip and kiss at your neck, finally letting his thumb press down against your clit, massaging in circles as slow as his strokes, and he feels your muscles flutter.

A third finger joins the others and this time you seem to reactively grip his wrist, your other hand flying to slap over your mouth as your brow furrows deeply. Bucky knows he’s breathing hard, and after adjusting himself briefly in his pants, he pulls at the thin straps of your nightdress, getting it only half down one shoulder, but it’s enough.

He wraps his lips around your exposed nipple, swirling his tongue and nipping experimentally, feeling your hand wrap around the back of his head in approval. He stares up at you, desperately wanting to see your face when he finally pulls you apart and he’s rewarded only a few minutes later, his fingers fucking you far quicker, his thumb working faster.

When you finish, your cunt squeezes his digits relentlessly in waves of pleasure, and you make strained, soft little mewls as you attempt to remain quiet. Your hips shift and twitch and he doesn’t draw away from your breast until you’re blinking back down at him, gently pulling his hand away from your clit with bashful little laughs.

“At least… at least I won’t have to change any bedsheets…” You pant, and Bucky chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your lips properly, feeling your naked chest heave against his when he does. Your eyes seem dazed, and your face warm, but when he pulls away again you swallow and gesture to his own clearly bulging pants.

“I can—”

“—Not tonight…” And he means it.

“I just wanted… I just wanted to see you.” He says, and your gaze shifts from purely lustful to something softer, and you smile, dipping your eyes away for a second.

Bucky takes the moment to enjoy his view, your dress pulled up to your hips, your pussy still clearly on display, and your sleeves hanging well down to your elbows, breasts bare, nipples hardened and exquisite. He fights the urge to reach out and start all over again, maybe get his mouth on you this time…

“S’alright?” He rests his head in his palm and you chortle quietly, nodding.

“Yes. Yes, better than… than anything with other boys before…” He gets the feeling you aren’t just saying that to stroke his ego, the blissed out look on your face and the oddly bashful demeanour you’ve taken on requiring him to believe that he really had just properly blown your mind. He grins triumphantly, and leans in again, kissing your lower lip.

“I told you I wasn’t a boy.” He kisses you full again, loving the feel of your hand reaching up to hold the back of his head to you.

“I know.” You say when he forces himself back. You watch him as he carefully pulls up the sleeves of your shirt, covering you up again, and then fixes the skirt too, until you’re mostly modest.

“You should get some sleep, sweetheart.” He tells you, and you hum, reluctantly climbing back through your window and standing on the other side. He kisses the back of your hand, but when he goes to pull away, you don’t release your hold on him, tugging him back slightly, and he blinks at you curiously.

Your eyes have taken on that same lustful expression from before and you cock your head.

“Will you think of me?” You ask, and at first, it doesn’t quite click.

“When you wrap your hand around your cock when you get home, will you think of me?” Bucky nearly chokes, nearly climbs right through your window and ends all the tension there and then, but he manages to hold strong, realising you were still somewhat teasing him.

“Darlin’ I will think of nothing but you, soaking wet and waiting for me…” He squeezes your fingers slightly, noting the approval in your eyes even before you nod.

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

“It has been, yes.” You finally let him go, watching as he clambers quietly back over your side wall.

And Bucky does think of you when he gets home, he strokes himself to the thought of your mouth and your cunt, and your tits bouncing in his face while he has you on his lap. It’s honestly the filthiest his mind has been since Paris nights drowned in alcohol and women he didn’t bother to get the names of. He knows your name though, sighs it again and again as he thinks of you.

He falls asleep hard and wakes up in the morning the same way, unable to stop thinking about you.

—-

In the days following Bucky’s midnight visit, you feel a giddy sort of happiness thrum constantly through your veins. Even now, as you sit up in your archway, trying to focus your mind on the letter you write to your distant aunt (you think you’ve met her all of once, but she’d written to you and your mother regarding your health and wellbeing in the aftermath of the war, so you felt obliged to reply). You find yourself able to write only several lines before you’d look up, searching, hoping perhaps Bucky would show, but even you know it’s too early… he’d still be working.

Part of you debates going to watch, the idea of seeing him labouring away in the hot sun, hopefully with his shirt removed, leaving him in only a singlet top… your stomach stirs at the thought, but you shake your head, and concentrate harder on your letter.

You manage to succeed too, losing yourself in describing Montecarra to your relative who’d never once left England, as she’d explained. It isn’t until some time later that movement catches at the corner of your eye, and you barely refrain from looking up as Bucky finally ambles into the courtyard. He must sense your buys-ness, because he doesn’t greet you as he nears, he just stops for a moment, before he continues forward.

At first you think he may approach you to wait, but instead he swiftly climbs into the open archway behind you. You take the time to pause in your own actions to peek at what he’s doing, only to find him sitting in mirror of you, his back to the same pillar yours is. After he settles he twists back and nudges your arm.

“Got any spare paper, darlin’?”

You try to pretend you hadn’t been watching him, but his grin says you’ve been caught out. Gathering a few pages from under your small stack, you hand them back to him, his fingers over your far too suspect for you to think it is anything other than purposeful. Still, you can’t help but smile, even as you settle back to finish off your letter, hearing him uncap a pen.

You find yourself referring back to your aunt’s letter to answer and reply to all of her questions and queries, and once again you almost forgot Bucky is there, until tugging on your sleeve draws you out of your reverie. You turn to look, expecting to be greeted with his lovely face, but instead, all you see is his hand, holding a page folded into a little rectangle.

Your chest flutters at the thought he’d been sitting writing something for you, and so your letter is quickly abandoned in favour of taking the little note. Bucky seems to remain as if he were oblivious to his own actions, humming quietly to himself as you unfold the paper and gaze down at the words.

‘Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?’

Again, your heart stutters, and you can’t hide your smile as you put pen to paper, drawing up your response. You refold it and hand it back the same way he’d offered it to you; tugging on his sleeve and holding it out. The page is plucked from your fingers quickly, and you try to distract yourself by turning back to your true task, only to be pulled from this once more when his hand reaches back, searching. You watch for a moment before he wiggles his fingers expectantly and you snicker, adjusting your hold on your paper, so that you can place your hand in his own.

You sit there like that for the rest of the afternoon, Bucky humming happily, your hands interlocked at an almost awkward angle, and you try your hardest to finish writing your damned letter.

He picks you up from your home later that evening, finds you waiting for him out the front. You hadn’t dressed up in a long time, and so when his gait slows and his eyes roam over you as he approaches, you can’t help but feel self-conscious.

You’d worn a simple red dress, but it was the nicest one you owned, the only one appropriate for dinner out. This time you’d committed to the lipstick, painted your lips red and done your best not to talk yourself out of it. You’d left your hair down, let it fall in loosely styled waves, and all together you felt part-movie star, part-fool.

Bucky whistles lowly, just quietly as he nears, and you have to scoff and roll your eyes, hiding your embarrassment as he draws you in, hugging you just quickly before he pulls back, hands on your waist still, to inspect you closer.

“You look beautiful.” He tells you, voice soft and sweet and you know he isn’t pontificating, or trying to woo you.

“Thank you.” You reach out to smooth over his collar and finally force yourself to meet his eye.

“You look lovely, too.”

You feel lost in a slight high as you walk to the only real restaurant in town, in the main square. In the early evening the streets are quiet, only the occasional passerby, but the cafe remains open, seeing to a few quiet patrons, plus yourselves out on the terrace.

Bucky helps you with your chair and takes your order for you, pours you your drink… it's so normal and yet you’d never really experienced an evening like it. When your food is long gone, he scoots his chair around to sit closer to you and holds your hand softly in his while you talk aimlessly. You aren’t at all worried about being seen or judged, in fact the few moments in which you catch a passing couple take a look at you, you see kind eyes and sweet smiles, only making you feel dizzier.

“You enjoyed your meals, I see?” The owner, an older man named Matteo who you’d known to live in Montecarra for as long as you can remember, stops by to clear up your plates, and you nod enthusiastically.

“Wonderful, we’ll have to come back.” Bucky says, squeezing your fingers as Matteo smiles widely and agrees.

“Maybe next time I will have figured out how to work this named record player, then you will have music as well!” You and Bucky both seem to perk as Matteo throws a thumb over his shoulder, and Bucky straightens in his chair slightly.

“I can give it a look, if you’d like?” He offers, eyes already glued to the record player sitting atop the counter only a few meters away. The older man gives him a shrug and a gesture that clearly reads as ‘go for it’, as he finishes collecting the plates and patters back off to the kitchen.

You watch Bucky move over to the counter, fiddling with the player, though you can’t really see what he does. You know he’s fixed it however, when he throws a grin back at you, and plucks a record from beside the machine, pulling it from it’s sleeve and carefully placing it down on the turntable.

Music immediately begins wafting through the air, an upbeat tune you think you’d heard on the radio before, and Bucky comes speeding back over to you, hands held out even as he pulls you from your seat.

“Dance with me?” He asks, though he’s already wrapping his arm around your waist, and you move yours to his shoulder and hand respectively. There isn’t much room between the tables on the sidewalk, and although the song is happy, it’s not a rousing jazz tune, so you find yourselves simply swaying in each others embrace as the French lyrics begin to join the band.

You end up close, so close you forget anything else exists around you, Bucky’s forehead pressed against your own, your chests similarly compressed, as if neither of you could exist apart.

You have to laugh, thoroughly intrigued and enthralled when he begins softly singing the words to the song. It’s so different to hear him speak in a language that wasn’t Italian or English and it makes your chest ache for a reason you don’t know.

“I wish I could speak French.” You say quietly, Bucky’s lips quirk up but you shake your head.

“You must be so amused by how quaint I am… never been in a car, never left my town… never learnt any languages…” You don’t mean to sound so melancholy, but it hits you then, the ache in your heart stems from just how wonderful Bucky is, and how plain you are in comparison. But he’s frowning as you finish, shaking his head and adjusting his grip on you, wrapping you up even further.

“Never. I think you’re worldy in other ways…”

Your purse your lips, but as he opens his mouth to continue you cut him off, changing the subject.

“Can you tell me about New York again?”

Bucky’s expression falters, then lifts into a sweet smile, and you know his mind has wafted away to distant city streets.

“Of course…” He talks for ages about all the shops and stores available, about all the tiny apartment buildings and the decor, and his home block in Brooklyn. He tells you about the parks and the weather, and a place called Coney Island.

“... I think you’d like it.” He finishes, and you hum, having closed your eyes now, head to his shoulder as you attempt to imagine all that he describes. You feel him open his mouth to say something, to continue, but he doesn’t, hesitating and then remaining quiet, though he holds you firmer again, and you relish in the warmth of it.

Eventually, you have to let Matteo close up, and you bid the old man thank you and goodbye as you walk away hand-in-hand. Before you can get too far however, you stop, tugging on Bucky’s hand so you have his attention, the warm Montecarran breeze blowing your hair about.

“My mama doesn’t expect me home until morning.” You tell him, seeing instantly how his eyes change.

“Why’s that?” He manages to ask, stepping close again and you smile, shrugging.

“I told her I was watching some children in town overnight.”

Bucky hums at your reply, frowns as if in thought.

“Sounds as if you may need somewhere to stay, in that case.”

Bucky takes you back to his cottage, all quiet laughs and lingering touches as he leads you inside, placing his coat and keys down on the table, but any pretence is lost as soon as you kiss him. Clothes scatter around the small space, a gingerbread trail leading to his bedroom where he lays you down and peels the last of your underwear off.

Oddly, you feel less nervous about him seeing you naked than you had in your dress, maybe because he’d already seen you mostly this way, or maybe because at least naked it was real and you couldn’t pretend or hide, it was more honest.

You itch to touch him, but you don’t get the chance right away, his kisses leaving your lips quickly to travel down and soon you’re gasping, hands clutched tightly in his hair as he buries his face between your thighs, hands holding your legs apart as his tongue and lips work quickly over you, bringing you over the edge faster than you even thought possible. By the time he’s kissing you again, your mind is a haze of filth and desire and you guide him into you quickly.

Bucky is an excellent lover, his pace and angle perfect, his weight above you welcome as he thrusts into your warmth, desperate and wanting. He isn’t boring either, doesn’t end the night quickly, instead nearing his pleasure and stopping each time, drawing it out. He instructs you in various positions, making your belly spark with his knowledge of the female body, nearly sending you into a fritz when he takes you from behind, leaves you scrambling to hold on to something as you cry out into his sheets, his cock relentless as he fucks you through your orgasm, finally finishing with you, his hands curled around to pinch at your nipples, making your cunt bear down on him even more as you fall into a sweaty, moaning and panting heap.

He fetches you water, helps you fix back your hair in your still slightly dazed state, and pulls you near again, skin to skin as you drift off to sleep, lips pressed to one another even as your mind begins to wander.

In the morning you wake him with your mouth around his length, swallow him back as much as you can as he’s drawn from slumber by the pleasure, his hand reaching down to messily clutch at your hair. You watch him come apart for you, eyes fixed on his tilted head, creased brow and open mouth as he jerks into the back of your throat, hot warmth spilling forth that you swallow with ease.

He swears and curses as he rubs his eyes and you crawl up to lay beside him once again, finding his eyes looking at you as if to make sure you were real.

“Good morning, Sargeant.” You tease, only to have him cuss more, his chest heavily quickly up and down. You chitter and brush the slightly damp hair back from his head, a kiss to his cheek as you withdraw from the bed.

“Where’re you goin’?” He asks, blinking himself properly awake and you throw him a glance as you hunt for all your belongings.

“I have to go home, my mother does expect me at some point…” You explain, and he rubs a hand over his face once more, seeming to deflate a little.

“Right. Of course.”

You’re fully dressed when he manages to pull himself to sit on the edge of the bed, still naked, still just as fine as the evening previous. He looks up at you as you step nearer, braiding back your hair before you place both hands on his shoulders.

“Thank you.” You say simply, leaning down to peck his lips chastley. He hums against you, kissing you back and quickly you’re no longer pecking his lips, your hands roaming down over his shoulders appreciatively, his hands reach up the back of your skirt, pulling your underwear to the side and—

You gasp, giggling as you pull out of his reach, shaking your head and wagging a finger at him like a naughty child.

“No! No, I have to go home!” You tell him, even as he sighs, falling back to lie on the bed again. You can clearly see his hardening length and you fight yourself to just climb atop him once more.

“I will see you later!” You say pointedly, tossing a shirt onto his lap, to hide him from you, and you see him grin, chortling even as his hand travels lower, removing the shirt and wrapping around— you turn your back, flustered and tempted, but you leave his little cottage, determined to get home before your mama woke, so you could wash and change.

—-

Somewhere in the back of Bucky’s mind, he knew it wouldn’t last forever, but the end comes sooner than he’d expected.

He stares at the small pile of pages in front of him, their words all making sense in his brain, he understands what they all say, what they’re telling him, but at the same time, he comprehends absolutely nothing after the words ‘The United States Armed Forces herby discharges you with honourable service records…’

He was going home. They were sending him home.

At last he’d be able to hug his mother, see his sister, Steve, all the other fellas… he’d get to go home and really start his life post-war. He’d been waiting on this letter for months, a year even, more perhaps. At one time, it had been all he’d wanted. And yet, all that fills him now is a sense of dread, muddled with a bit of guilt, because he knows he really does miss his family, but…

When he sees you later that afternoon, sitting up in your nook like always, he can hardly bring himself to return your smile, sparkling and bright as always, for him. You pick up on his mood immediately, even if you poke fun. He knows he can’t delay, they expected him on his flight home from Rome tomorrow. The army loved their damn punctuality.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, face falling a little when he only half-heartedly chuckles at your joke, his eyes downturned, afraid to meet your own. He swallows, and shoves his hands in his pockets, squints into the distance.

“They’re sending me home.”

A beat passes.

When he finally looks back at you, he catches the tail end of devastation leaving your features, replaced instead with a hopeful, sincere grin.

You grab his hand, pulling them from his trousers.

“Bucky! That’s wonderful news!” You say excitedly, but he can only purse his lips.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that! You don’t want to spend your whole life here, do you!?” You snort a little as you knock him in the shoulder, and he smiles thinly.

No, he didn’t want to live the rest of his life in Tuscany, but he’d been getting used to having a little slice of it around lately.

Your over-excitement fades, and you lean in to him cupping his cheek.

“You’ll get to see your mother, and your city… I know you miss them all…” He can’t help but frown at a spot on your dress, avoiding your eyes like a pouting child.

“I’ll miss you, too, though.” He mumbles, and you smile, scrunch your nose and shake your head.

“In no time at all this will all be a happy memory.”

Bucky wants to protest, lifts his gaze to argue with you, but the sharp, almost panicked look you give him as you shake your head again stops him.

“No, Bucky… Don’t. Please don’t make this sad… you’ve made me…” Your voice is cut off as you sniff, the shininess to your eyes spilling over just slightly, even though you smile softly.

“You’ve made me very happy, for quite some time. Let us leave with that.” You wrap your arms around his neck, hiding your face away and Bucky sighs, pulling you closer too, and resting his head atop your own.

He glares, frowns aimlessly at a nearby wall, barely even seeing it, focusing all his energy on swaying gently with you.

“Alright.” He says, voice a little rough. You sniff into the collar of his shirt, and he smooths his hands down over your back.

“Alright.”

—-

“We rented out your room to a shoemaker. You’re gonna have to sleep on the couch until we can convince him to leave.” Becca says flatly, half her words muffled as she’s drawn into Bucky’s chest. He holds her there tightly for several seconds before pulling back.

“Oh yeah?” He rubs at his chin.

“Don’t think the shoemaker will sleep heads to toes with me?” He wonders, and Becca scrunches her nose, laughing at the image.

Winnie Barnes shakes her head and lightly taps her daughter.

“Becca don’t cause trouble. Bucky, we left everything exactly the way it was.” His mother tells him, before hugging him for the sixth time since he’d landed. He just grins, and hugs her back each time. He’d missed her. So much.

They eat dinner together, Steve and Peggy come too, and afterward, the blond makes Bucky pull out his camera. After quickly pulling some choice images out of the pile, he lets Becca and his mother rifle through, telling them about each photo as he remembers it, the act rather therapeutic. He really had been gone for so long.

“Oh… who's this?!” Becca coos, half reading, half awed, and Bucky absently leans over to get a look.

His heart stops for a moment when he lays eyes on you, your smile wide and full of glee, the wind blowing your hair wildly about, your hand lifted to hold your hat on your head. Maybe he takes too long staring, maybe it’s just something about a sisters’ intuition, but Becca whistles, then gasps as she plucks another photo from the pile now tipped on the floor.

“Here she is again! And here too!” Even his mother gives him a sideways glance, but he can’t bring himself to feel too bashful.

He clasps his hands under his knees where he sits on the carpet and hums.

“Nina. I met her in a little town called Montecarra.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“She is.” he confirms, as Becca continues to find photos with your face peppered throughout. He should be embarrassed about the amount of pictures he took of you, even ones where you aren’t doing anything but reading, but he really doesn’t.

“She your girlfriend?”

“Becca!” Winnie scolds, glaring at her daughter, but Bucky only laughs.

“I wasn’t lucky enough for that.” He shrugs, and his mother fusses.

“James Barnes, any woman worth her salt—”

“It’s not like that Ma… it’s just…” He trails off. He doesn’t want to say something to suggest he didn’t want to be here with them, because he desperately did. But he missed you.

“Well… I came home.” He shrugs, and his mother’s eyes fill with understanding. She purses her lips but frowns thinly, reaching out to squeeze his arm.

Becca frowns too, but she recovers quickly, pulling out a new photo and asking him about the features in it.

She pulls out the ones of your face, but she doesn’t mention them again.

Bucky settles in. He truly comes home. He stops feeling like he’s living out of a suitcase. He finds a job, granted it isn’t hard, with the SSR setting up an office in the city, he barely had to ask for a job. On Fridays he went dancing with Becca, acting more like a chaperone than a participant, and on Sunday’s he went to church with his mother, holding her hand through the service and making nice with the old ladies after.

He settles in. He’s home.

And then, there’s a knock on the door.

It’s well after any kind of appropriate hours for visitors, but not late enough into the night that anybody was in bed. Winnie sits by the radio in the living room, listening to her stories while Becca scrawls out a letter. Bucky had been reading when the knock came, and he waves a hand towards the women when he stands.

“I’ll get it.”

“Who on earth calls at this time?” He hears his mother wonder aloud as he makes his way down the hall to the front door.

Swinging it open, Bucky feels ready to send off whoever it is, but he stops dead in his tracks. All sense leaves him, aside from sight. He’s only able to stare slack-mouthed as you blink back up at him.

He’s never seen you in so many layers before. It was winter in New York, but Montecarra seemed to be perpetually hot, so the most he’d seen you in was a light jacket… standing before him now, on his front steps, you have a coat, a scarf, gloves, a hat and he thinks those might even be earmuffs around your neck.

“I… Hello…” You begin, your voice heavily accented when you speak English, and even though Bucky shakes himself out of his stupor, he’s still dumbfounded.

“Hi…”

“I… I’m new to the city, and I thought perhaps you will… show me around?” You seem to be thinking hard about your words, speaking slowly to articulate them. You scrunch your nose when you finish, clearly unhappy with the outcome.

Bucky can’t even bring himself to respond. He’s down the two steps separating you in seconds, hands cupping both your cheeks as he kisses you, again and again, in quick succession until you’re laughing against his lips.

“What— how— what are you doing here?!” He stops and starts, but eventually gets some version of his thoughts out. He speaks to you in Italian, not wanting you to feel limited, and you shrug, gloved fingers splayed across his chest.

“My Aunt… the one from England… she offered for me to join her in America, for better opportunities…” You trail off, and Bucky decides you could tell him any reason and he’d have been satisfied.

“I’ve been learning English.” You say, and he nods, thumb stroking over your cheek. He can’t stop looking at you, he can’t believe you’re here.

“I can see that.” He replies, in English, and watches as you slowly understand.

“Buck? Who's at the door— oh! I- I’m sorry, I—” Winnie, with Becca just behind her, stops in her tracks at the door, cheeks tinged red at catching such an intimate moment, but Bucky can’t bring himself to pull away. He see’s Becca’s eyes flash with recognition, her face lighting up.

He forces himself to pull back slightly, guiding you forward.

“Mama, Becca, this is Nina… from Montecarra.”

——

“I thought you said you’d worked in all the kinks!?” You whine, only slightly impatiently, though Bucky can understand why.

“Worked out all the kinks, baby. ‘Out’.” You roll your eyes and mutter in Italian.

“I’m going to work you out in a moment…” You say louder, and Bucky relents, holding up his hands as he finishes fiddling at last.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming! Get ready!” He tells you, quickly rushing around from one side of the camera he’d set up on a pile of books, the little wired control he holds in his hand flashing red.

“Come bambino, please smile for Mr Camera!” You bounce the tiny baby boy on your lap, earning a bout of giggles, just as Bucky slides in next to you on the stairs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, and placing his free hand on his son’s back.

“Ready?”

“Five minutes ago…”

“Say ‘Montecarra’!”

He presses the button, and the camera flashes.

Thank You Very Much For Reading!

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Don’t shout.

summary: Harry doesn't know what to do after he lied to Y/N.

word count: 1.7k

based on these requests:

"fuck i didn’t mean to send that haha okay for ‘shy little boy’ can u do something where yn and harry fight over him going to a girls house while on tour (but she’s a friend) when he gets back home yn ignores him bc she found out n stuff (the kid is not home i can’t remember his name srry) hope this makes sense"

and

"How about when Harry and y/n fight and Artemis thinks they are going to break up but he doesn't want Harry to leave him. I love you writing. Artemis is sooo cute uWu."

and

"hey idk if you’re taking requests but i was wondering if you could do one where you and harry get into an argument where he makes you cry and artemis sees and gets mad at harry and won’t talk to him until harry apologizes to you,, ty !!"

and

"where y/n and harry have there first big fight"

and

"For the my shy little boy series, could you do one where y/n and Harry fight about something and Artemis gets upset at one of them as well?"

a/n: had to change the requests a bit but i hoped they worked together!! I enjoy writing angst so i liked doing this one :)

you can find more of my shy little boy here

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: 

Y/N was never one to pick up a fight. She was the type of person who preferred bottle up her feelings, most of the time. Usually she didn't have drama in her life aside from the occasional four-year-old tantrums and stuff, but then again she hasn't dated anyone in what felt like years. And she has never dated a famous person before, so every day she learned something new.

Like how trust is the most fundamental part of a relationship. She couldn't believe every little thing that was put in the internet about him, as eighty percent of it was all fake information. So she always trusted Harry and waited for his side of things before jumping to any conclusions.

However, this time, she couldn't do that. Not when dozens of pictures of him leaving one of his ex-girlfriend's house with the same clothes from the day before where all over the internet. She couldn't care less about that part, to be honest. What she was hurt about was the fact that Harry told her he was at his hotel and wasn't going to go out that night.

She knew Harry had friends, a lot of them were women. And she was no one to tell him who he could and could not hang out with. What she felt betrayed about was that he lied about it.

Now, Y/N considered herself a very mature person. But this time she allowed to feel angry and ignored every call of Harry's, not being in the mood to talk to him after she saw those pictures.

When he was back to London, he already had figured what was the problem. And he couldn't blame Y/N for ignoring him either, so as soon as he landed, Harry went straight to Y/N's home, determined to give her an explanation.

Y/N opened the door, raising an eyebrow at him but let him in anyway. She turned around and walked to the kitchen, completely ignoring him. Harry closed the door behind him and followed her, knowing her silence was anything but a good sign.

"Where's Artemis?" He asked softly, trying to make small conversation.

"His room." She murmured, raising a glass of water up to her mouth to drink from it.

"Are you mad at me?" He already knew the answer, but he didn't know how to bring up the subject. All he received was a bitter laugh from her. "I'm sorry..."

"For what? Because you lied to me or because you got caught?"

"Caught? Nothing happened, Y/N."

"Then why did you lied to me?!" She almost slammed the glass on the kitchen island, growing really angry. "Why you didn't tell me you were with her?"

"I didn't want you to be mad." He murmured, like a little kid who was being scolded.

"And how do you think i am right now? Uh?" Crossing her arms over her chest, Y/N stared at him. "I trust you, Harry. Every day, all the time. All i ever ask from you is honesty. What happens when i can't even get that?"

Harry panicked for a second, not knowing if she was going to break up with him over this. "Please, tell me how i can make it better."

"Start with telling me why you lied." She demanded. "And don't say because you didn't want to upset me because i'm not buying that. I called you the night before those pictures were taken. You told me you were at your hotel room, was that even true?"

He nodded furiously. "I was at my room when i called you. I swear."

"You told me you were gonna take a shower then you'd call again to wish Artemis a good night, but you never did. Harry, i called you, three times and you didn't answer. Here i was thinking you were so tired of working you fell asleep when in reality you were at you ex's house doing god knows what!" A single tear rolled down her left eye, breaking Harry's heart.

"She called me. She had broken up with her boyfriend and needed a friend." He said. "We drank a little, that's why i couldn't drive back to the hotel. I slept in her couch. Nothing happened, baby, you have to believe me."

"I'm not worried about you cheating, Harry. I worry about you lying to me. How can i trust you if you don't tell me the truth?" More tears fell from her eyes. "I don't want to be that type of girlfriend, but i thought we could tell each other everything."

"And we can, god, we can. I'm sorry, so sorry, baby."

 "Were you still going to tell me even if those pictures didn't come out?" She asked. Her lip was trembling as she waited for him to answer, however, Harry stayed silent. "That's what i thought."

She tried to walk out of the kitchen, but Harry wrapped his hand around her wrist gently, stopping her from leaving. But Y/N was too hurt right now to react properly, so she snapped. "Don't!"

"Mummy?" A much smaller, scared voice was heard, making both adults swallow hard. "Why are you crying?" Artemis was confused when he saw the tears on his mother' face, but then his eyes landed on Harry. Under any other circumstances, he'd jump on his arms, excited he was back home. But he was quick to put two and two together, and he instantly blamed Harry for his mummy's tears. So he furrowed, stepping in front of Y/N to take a good look at her.

"Hey, baby. Were you there long?" Y/N asked him, running a hand through his soft curls. Artemis shook his head. He didn't heard much, and what he heard he didn't understand. Just that his mum was shouting and Harry was apologizing for something. "Let's go back to your room, okay?"

She took his hand and guided him back to his room, staying with him for a little bit to show him she was okay. She knew Harry wouldn't leave, especially not after a fight, but she wasn’t sure she could keep fighting with him once she came out.

Harry made the decision to make lunch for them, hoping Y/N would be willing to talk to him. He knew Artemis was now mad at him too, and Harry felt so bad for upsetting his two loves. God only knows how protective Artemis is of his mum.

He didn’t even know why he couldn’t answer Y/N’s last question. He didn’t think paparazzi would take pictures of him entering and exiting his ex-girlfriend’s house, or that Y/N would react in that way. But he also understood how bad it looked from her perspective.

“You’re still here.” He heard her voice from behind.

“I’d never leave while we’re like this.” Harry turned to look at her, furrowing when he saw her red eyes. “I never meant to upset you.” She nodded, staying quiet. “I know how the world makes it look every time I’m out with someone from the opposite sex, I’ve been targeted as the biggest player for that.”

“Those things are not true.”

“And you know that. But… in my past relationships, they didn’t believe me. They’d automatically assume the worst, that’s why I didn’t want you to find out. I didn’t want the opinion you have of me to change. I’m truly sorry.”

Y/N sighed. She looked at him in the eye and could see how vulnerable Harry was allowing himself to be right now, how honest and regretful his eyes looked.

“You’re a good friend, and a good boyfriend. That’s what I think of you. Harry, you don’t have to lie or hide things from me. I know nothing happened, I trust you in that. Just, please, be honest with me. I don’t want to find out of things when there’s already millions of pictures online, I want to hear the truth from you so we can save arguments like these.”

Harry nodded furiously, again. “I promise, it won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” She stated. Harry walked towards her and pulled her for a tight hug, squeezing her close to his chest and sighing in relief. “But Artemis is kind of upset too.”

“I should go apologize to him too. We shouldn’t have been fighting with him in the house.”

“Go talk to him, I’ll finish this.” She pointed at the almost done meal Harry was cooking.

He obeyed, making his way towards the little boy’s room. The door wasn’t entire closed but he still knocked before entering. “Hey.” He said softly, but Artemis didn’t answer. “I’m sorry you heard that, monkey.”

“You made my mummy cry.” He stated, crossing his little arms across his chest, looking exactly like Y/N while doing it. “You have to apologize.”

“I already did, kiddo. Mummy and I have talked, now I want to say sorry to you, for upsetting you.” Harry knelt in front of him.

“Are you gonna leave?” He said, his mood drastically changed as his eyes filled with tears.

Harry was confused by the question, but was quick to assure him. “Of course not. Everything’s fine, monkey. Adults fight sometimes, but I’m not gonna leave, ever.”

“That’s what my teacher told Susie but her dad doesn’t live with her anymore.” He rubbed his eyes with his little fists, whipping his tears.

“But that’s not us, Artemis. I’m here, do you see? I’m never gonna leave you or your mummy.”

“Promise?” Artemis offered him his right pinky and Harry wrapped his much bigger one around it without hesitation.

“You have my word.”

They hugged, Artemis wrapped his little arms around his neck, applying a little pressure as he was still afraid Harry would leave him. But in response, Harry just squeezed him closer to him. He sat on the floor with Artemis on his lap, letting him calm down as he cooed at him.

“I love you.” Harry barely heard the words, as Artemis spoke above a whisper, still pressed to Harry’s tattooed chest.

But he still heard. And he couldn’t help the dimpled smile from appearing on his face. He loved this boy more than he could ever begin to describe, and the reassurance that the feeling was mutual was always something Harry loved to hear.

He kissed the top of his head, brushing some blonde curls out of his small face so he could look directly at his hazel eyes. “Not as much as I love you.”

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

taglist!!

@myfavfanficsever @odetostep @la-cey @cock-a-doodely-doo @awkwardbullfrog @mellamolayla @moorgannn @bagtan-serendipity @awesomebooklover17 @finelineribs @sunnybusiness @beanholland @sweetenerstyle @cronias13 @vhsharry @maisley @seasidecrowbar @stylesfics-xx @autumnpauley20 @fineline-hs1 @stephaniemalvie @immajustreadwritereblog @jadert15 @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @abundanceofsoph @harrysthicccthighs

[corysmiles]

Ok so I was reading your little streamer au story Just a Joke and that part about the matchbox bed had me thinking, what if Tommy did a stream where he just showed off his house? Like, just walked the camera from room to room and talked about different stuff he had for fun. (Probably not his whole house, just his bedroom and maybe one other him sized room if he has it)

He would probably see nothing wrong with most of it (or even if he does, he doesn’t think it’s a big deal and ignores it, thinking everyone else will do the same) but his friends see how poorly made and “diy” everything looks (like his bed) and start thinking about how all tinys have to live like that.

I imagine Wilber especially starts to feel bad, looking around his house and seeing all the stuff he takes for granted, all things that tinys could only get a poorer version of, if they got a version at all.

Not to mention, Tommy seems to be a bit better off then a lot of tinys, so some don’t even have the stuff he does, and/or have ones of even lesser quality.

Maybe it’s just a one off little “oh...that sucks...” or maybe they try to do something about it. Idk, just think it’s a cute and sad idea. (I have more to say about this idea, but I don’t want bombard you with a super duper long ask, so just take these basics for now I guess, sorry)

-tired anon

House Tour

————————

Little Streamer AU

CW: language

Notes: Woah little streamer content?? In this economy??? More likely than you think. And thank you so much for this awesome idea tired anon I love it :D Without further ado have a fun tiny Tommy housetour followed by Wilbur’s confusion over tiny culture

————————

Tommy hadn’t been this excited for a stream in a long time, but as he set up everything he was practically bouncing on his feet.

He was going to do a house tour- or a room tour- for the chat since they’d only ever seen a bit of it in the background. It was a lot different from his normal content, but it felt refreshing doing something so new.

When he finally stepped back and looked at everything a grin spread across his face. He didn’t think his room had looked this nice since the day they built it. His red sheets were perfectly tucked into his matchbox bed, his dollhouse desk was wiped down and shiny, and even his scrap-fabric rug was dusted.

Pride swelled up in his chest at the sight.

“Mom!” he yelled as he peaked his head through the “window” in his room. It really was just a hole in the wall to the human part of the house, but it also let light in to his room. “I’m gonna be streaming soon!”

He didn’t even wait for an answer before he happily popped back into his small room. It was still a little dusty since it was inside of a wall, but there was nothing he could really do about that. The viewers would just have to deal with it, he mused.

Quickly he sent out a tweet for his stream and hit “go live” on his pc. Almost immediately people flooded the chat even though it was still just his starting soon screen, and one name in particular caught his eye.

WilburSoot: this is not exciting

Tommy grinned and stifled the laugh that threatened to burst out of his chest. Of course Wilbur was messing with him, who would he be if he wasn’t messing with the tiny. And even though it was just one message Tommy was excited to know he was there.

Wilbur had actually been the one to convince him to do a house tour. Tommy never really thought his room was much, it was decently sized but not very exciting, but still Wilbur thought it would be a fun idea for an easy stream. The tiny still has been pretty iffy about the idea but after constant nagging from his brother-figure he gave in.

“Hello chat!” Tommy yelled as he switched his screen to his camera. Dramatically he swung it around to zoom in on his face.

“How are you doing today? I’m doing so well,” he grinned, “Today’s gonna be a little different actually- spicing things up Yaknow. You get to see my big man home!”

The chat blurred in the corner of his eye as he explained what the stream would be, and chugged a cup of coke he’d poured right before he started. It was all going well, and they seemed to like it a lot more than he thought they would.

First Tommy stood up from his desk and pointed it at his setup, “See this is where the magic happens boys.”

He laughed as the chat flew by even faster with one message catching his eye.

“Hey it is not a Polly pocket desk it is a Barbie Ken desk,” he pouted, “please I’m better than that.”

Step by step he moved across his room explaining his furniture and showing off his favorite things. They got to see his cardboard bed, his “borrower hook” he’d been trying to teach himself how to use, and even his “spider hole” in the wall where bugs got into his room.

Most of the time the chat seemed to find it funny, but every once in a while people seemed concerned. He just chalked it up to humans though.

At the end of the stream he put the camera on his desk and jumped up on his bed to say goodbye. To make it even funnier he loaded the tiny nerf gun Wilbur had bought him a while back and tried to shoot the camera.

“I’m gonna shoot you if you don’t leave, go!” he yelled jokingly, “Disparse! Leave! Go home!”

Once the chat seemed to calm down a bit he said his actual goodbyes and teaches as the screen turned dark. Just like always he let out a breath of relief that the stream went well. He enjoyed streaming, but it was still stressful trying to make sure everything went right.

After a minute he fell back onto his bed and scrolled through his phone until discord dm flashed on his screen.

WilburSoot: how did you get a whole fake room for a stream??

Tommy frowned and quickly opened the app staring at the message.

Tommyinnit: what? vc?

The tiny sat back against his bed and waited for his friend to respond as anxiety curled up in his gut.

“Tommy?” Wilbur’s voice crackled.

“Hey Wil, what the fuck do you mean?”

Through his phone he could hear Wilbur shifting around as he stumbled on what to say, “That room.”

Tommy frowned and tilted his head even though he knew the human couldn’t see it, “What about it?”

“What- that can’t be your room, right?” Wilbur’s laugh boomed, “It was a good joke though.”

“Wait wait Wil,” Tommy fumbled, “What the fuck do you mean? This is my room.”

The silence that filled the call almost made Tommy wish he hadn’t said anything at all.

“Huh?”

“Uh yeah,” Tommy coughed, “That really was my room, what’s wrong?”

Wilbur’s staticky hum echoed through his phone, “Oh uh… I don’t know I thought you’d have like…actual furniture?”

“I mean, it works doesn’t it,” Tommy frowned as he leaned back against his sheets, kicking up his feet on the edge of the box, “It’s not that bad.”

“Tommy,” Wilbur paused, “you sleep in a box.”

The tiny froze and stared at the worm edges of the matchbox he slept in. He never really thought about it. It was pretty normal for tinies considering how expensive real furniture was, and he was probably better off than a lot of other tinies.

“Uh well yeah big man,” Tommy stuttered, “I’m a tiny.”

“Well no shit I know that but shouldn’t you have like an actual bed? You have a real pc!” Wilbur said, getting louder by the second.

“Well yeah,” Tommy muttered, “But spending over a thousand pounds on a bed frame just doesn’t seem worth it to me okay?”

Again silence filled the call, and it lasted so long tommy thought the human had left.

Wilbur was the one to break the silence, “One thousand pounds?”

“For a shitty one yeah,” Tommy frowned. He still remembered the day his parents had searched endlessly for any bed frames only to find that they were all thousands of pounds. They had seemed so upset about it, but Tommy never really cared.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Wilbur dropped, “I shouldn’t have said anything I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright,” Tommy smiled, I’m the corner of his eye he saw one of the hoodies he’d bought during his last visit with Wilbur, “But my spider hole is very real and very important to me.”

Wilbur’s loud laugh burst through the phone making the tiny’s heart swell. He missed the human more than he’d admit, and it was always nice hearing his friend’s voice- even if he was just joking about his spider hole.

“Yeah yeah, your spider holes fine. Very normal,” Wilbur joked before his voice steadied, “Seriously though, sorry about thinking it was a joke. I just- I don’t know. I feel like maybe I’ve taken my things for granted. I didn’t mean to seem rude though I-

“Nah stop,” Tommy smiled, “Your house is shit man, I’ve been there.”

The tiny stared at Wilbur’s profile picture as his wheezy laugh filled the room.

“Yeah yeah whatever,” and then an added, “love you Tom.”

Before Tommy could respond he heard the ding signalling Wilbur had left the call. The silence in his room now only filled by the sound of his parents shuffling around somewhere else in the house.

“Yeah,” Tommy hummed, “Love you too Wil.”

Taglist:

@encaos @blurrybunnie @brooky71 @forgetful-dorito

[frostedfaves]

Repercussions (13)

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Wesley performs at-home surgery on you, and Natasha and Wanda remind you who’s in charge from the other side of the world.

Warnings: dark themes, mentions of stitches, poorly written medical stuff, mild injury, implied nudity, smut 18+ ONLY (cyber sex, implied masturbation and overstimulation, sex toy use and penetration)

A/N: let’s not even talk about the fact that I fully intended on not ending another odd numbered chapter with smut and then did it anyway. but also feel free to thank me, as this is (possibly 👀) the last time I’ll be able to include any smut at all so...

Previous part

-

The ringing of a phone broke the silence of the room, and you groaned against the pillow when you realized it was your iPad. Adjusting the covers and rolling over to one of the nightstands, you attempted to wipe the sleepiness away from your eyes before answering the FaceTime call.

“Printsessa!”

You grinned as Natasha and Wanda appeared on the screen, waving and laughing a bit when they waved back with even bigger smiles.

“The most beautiful women in the world! I see that you’ve landed safely.”

“Yep. Just got in the safe house and this one couldn’t wait to see your face again.” Natasha teasingly nudged Wanda’s shoulder, chuckling when she rolled her eyes and pushed back. “But I’m thinking she’s not the only one missing a girlfriend. Is that my shirt?”

“And Wanda’s scrunchie.” You lifted your wrist for her to see and Wanda cooed at you.

“That’s adorable, baby. So how was yesterday? No trouble with Wesley, right?”

“It’s been incredible! We got to play our favorite card games and watch one of our old shows, and today he’s going to make my favorite omelette!”

“You have a favorite omelette?”

“Wes makes his just like my favorite diner in my hometown. I don’t know how he does it, but it’s amazing every time.” You shrugged, relaxing your shoulders as you exhaled in the form of a happy sigh. “I can’t thank you both enough for bringing him here.”

“We just want to see you happy, printsessa,” Natasha told you with a soft smile that faded as she yawned. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we should get some sleep before we need to get out there in the morning.”

“Wait!” Wanda cut in before you could respond, her lips forming a smirk. “Let us see you.”

You playfully rolled your eyes with a shake of your head before standing up and propping up the iPad against the lamp on the nightstand. Stepping back to bring your full form into the frame, you made a big show of slowly stripping away Natasha’s sleep shirt as they cheered, even louder once they realized you weren’t wearing underwear.

“I kind of regret this now,” Wanda sighed, and you laughed.

“At least you have someone! I just have a room full of fun stuff that I’m not even allowed to use,” you pouted.

“Maybe we’ll change that in a few days. Maybe,” Natasha emphasized when you gasped. “Okay pretty baby, we’ll call again soon.”

“Okay, love you!”

You hung up before either of them could respond, shifting over to Apple music and playing the most rated R and sexual playlist you could find, wanting them to assume you were thinking of them in the shower. You were also hoping it would set the mood, leading them to tire each other out and sleep longer.

You could barely hide the proud smile that appeared on your features when you found out through the bugging device that your plan worked.

“Hey, kiddo!” Wes called as you entered the kitchen, hugging you briefly.

“Hey. Is that what I think it is?”

“You mean the special breakfast you specifically requested and threatened me over?” He raised his eyebrow and faced you as you climbed onto the counter, both of you laughing after a moment. “So how’d it go? Sleeping yet?”

“Like babies. We can head down after we eat.”

-

The two of you made your way to the basement after breakfast, and you led Wesley to the game room first to give him an overly enthusiastic tour of the space, grateful when he caught on fast and played along. You then pulled him away from a pinball machine to bring him to the TV area, pushing him toward the couch as you grabbed the remote from the entertainment area.

“Can’t believe you dangled a pinball game in my face just to snatch it away,” he joked.

“We can go back, dummy. I just had to do that because they know I’m pretty attached to that part of the house,” you told him as you looked for a movie to distract yourself from what was coming, which wasn’t easy with Wesley pulling a satchel of tools from his oversized hoodie in your peripheral vision.

“I know this is not the easiest thing to do, but just relax. I brought some numbing cream to help with the pain.”

You leaned against the armrest of the couch to bring yourself in view of the camera, trying not to react to the coldness of the ointment and really attempting to hold it together when he got started on removing the tracker from your leg.

“Would it be easier to just amputate from the knee down?” you grunted, huffing out a breath when he shook his head. “Yeah, I figured.”

It felt like days passed as you gripped a pillow hard enough to break it to deal with the pain that wasn’t numbed, when your cousin finally broke the silence between the two of you.

“Okay, I’m done. How does it feel?”

“Painful,” you mumbled as you examined your stitched skin. “Damn, you’re good.”

“Thanks.”

Wesley handed you the tiny baggie holding the even smaller tracker, and you slid it in your pocket. He moved to get up and you stopped him.

“Where are you going? Let’s finish the movie.”

“Not ready to walk, are you?” You shook your head this time and he laughed. 

When it ended, the two of you made your way back to the game room, choosing one of the racing games so you didn’t have to stand very long. After he beat you in a few races (quite easily, but you wouldn’t admit it to him), you made your way back upstairs to grab a football and head outside.

You were able to walk pretty normally and even lightly jog, but you were dying to relieve the burning patch of healing skin, so you staged a fall as quickly as you could without seeming suspicious. Wesley fussed over you appropriately, helping you into the house to the point of halfway carrying you, and you sighed in relief when you finally got an ice pack on your ankle.

“I’ve never seen someone so happy to fall.”

“Shut up.”

-

It was nearing midnight when you heard from your girlfriends again, being sure to hold an excited smile on your features as you answered the call.

“Good morning! Or is it afternoon?”

“Late afternoon going into early evening but who cares?” Wanda shrugged with a little laugh.

“What are you doing up so late, printsessa?”

“It’s only 11:58,” you replied after checking the time. “And I was hoping you’d call tonight.”

Natasha frowned at the sight of your pout. “Did something happen with Wesley?”

“Yes, but it’s not his fault. I fell in the yard and hurt my ankle, but he helped me inside and keep ice on it all day. He even helped me up here so I didn’t have to strain much on the stairs.”

“Oh baby, you gotta be careful.”

“I know, Wan, I’m sorry.” Your eyes watered a bit while your pout stayed. “I feel a lot better, though! I just wish it didn’t happen. I have so much energy right now and nothing to do with it.”

You frowned when Natasha and Wanda shared a prolonged look, sighing a little so they’d turn their attention back to you. Wanda offered you a smile while Natasha seemed to be doing something in her lap, and she nodded at Wanda before turning to face you again.

“What’s going on?”

“We think we have a way for you to burn all that energy,” Natasha told you while Wanda sat beside her looking like a kid in a candy store. “Check the nightstand on your right.”

You moved over to investigate, pulling the drawer open and frowned when you only spotted a small key, picking it up with a curious gaze.

“It’s just a...wait.” You picked up the iPad with wide eyes. “Is this to the special room?”

Natasha nodded and you squealed in excitement, jumping to your feet and making sure to wince a bit when your left foot made contact with the carpet.

“Careful baby, please!” Wanda begged. “You’re going to give us a heart attack.”

“Sorry!” 

You made your way down the hall and unlocked the door, stepping in and closing and locking the door behind you as they instructed. The iPad was placed in their preferred spot so they could watch you strip again before telling you exactly what to pick out. Their object of choice was a big, sparkly dildo meant to be attached to a flat surface, the headboard of a king sized bed in this case.

“This one is kinda big,” you remarked as you knelt beside the dildo to examine the length.

“But baby,” Natasha began with a falsely sweet tone that you’d grown accustomed to hearing in the bedroom, one that had you squeezing your thighs together immediately. “Don’t you want to be good for us?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Good girls listen. Are you a good girl?”

“Yes, Natty.”

“Then you can take it.”

You took a deep breath and positioned yourself, reaching for your clit between your parted legs and trying not to gasp in reaction to what you felt.

“You’re already soaked, aren’t you baby?”

You nodded and closed your eyes as you kept working your middle finger across the sensitive nub, slowly backing up onto the erect length and whimpering as it filled you up.

“That’s it, baby,” Wanda called out breathily, and you didn’t even need to raise your head to know she was touching herself, as was Natasha. “You’re so good at this.”

You paused for a moment when your ass bumped into the headboard, giving yourself time to adjust to being stretched open like this on your own. Pulling your hand away to rest both of them on the bed in front of you for support, you glanced at the iPad to see both of them watching you, and you stifled the moan that left you when you realized they were getting each other off.

“Like what you see, baby?” You nodded in response, your eyes glued to their crossed arms just barely moving. “Then get going, or we’ll turn the camera off.”

You began to move your hips in a slow back-and-forth motion, hissing and moaning each time the toy hit a spot that one of your girlfriends usually got for you.

“Faster.”

You obeyed immediately, gradually speeding up to a pace that had the bed shaking a bit under your movements, but you couldn’t find it in you to care about the safety of it all when you were this close to the edge. Your climax came faster than you expected and you managed to keep somewhat of a rhythm through it, slumping forward and panting as you came down.

“Again.” You looked to the screen in disbelief, biting your lip when you noticed Wanda’s head thrown back, her hands holding onto Natasha’s arm that seemed to move much faster now. “I didn’t stutter. Fuck yourself again.”

So you did, and another time and another time until you finally tapped out, sliding away from the toy and falling forward onto the bed. You lifted your head to see your fully naked girlfriends smiling at you, each of them a bit flushed from their own activity as they watched you.

“You were such a good girl tonight,” Wanda praised, smiling when you simply whimpered in response. “I can’t wait to get back there and fuck you myself.”

“Goodnight, baby. We love you.”

The call ended as you rolled onto your back to catch your breath for a moment. When your legs were no longer shaking uncontrollably, you stood up the best you could and grabbed the dildo after slipping on a robe, dropping it onto your pile of clothes as you grabbed that too. Once you were back in the shared room and the toy was cleaned, you slipped it into the bag you’d hidden in the closet. You were going to miss sex with them, and something had to take their place.

-

Tags: @littlegasps @imnotasuperhero @nat-km-mh @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @creepingwolfberry @bebe404 @seventeen0 @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @becka107 @muted-stoneheart @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se @wannabe-fic-reader @messuhp @mjaudrey @emilyprentisswife @cherrieloco @fayhar @trikruismybitch @sxphiaswitch @beforeoursecrets @want-to-watch-it-burn @just-a-normalpersons @multi-images @witchxaf @natashadeservedmore @haiiiloeee2 @darkangelxoxo @sakurat123

[ilovefandoms102]

The Worst Vacation

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend surprises you on your vacation with your work friends...

Note: Inspired by my trip to AZ which was terrible so this is kind of based off real events that happened to me but dramatized for the story, and of course inserting my baby daddy Drew😛.

Click here to be apart of my taglist

=====================================

Life works in funny ways…

I never expected to find the love of my life a little over a year ago. Drew came unexpectedly into my life and we instantly had a connection. I know, I know...sounds extremely cliche, but it’s the truth.

Although our relationship was mostly long distance, we made it work. Sure it was really hard sometimes not having him around, but once I graduated from college we planned on moving in together. It might seem a bit fast since we have only been together a year, but I’m ready and I know Drew’s the one I want to spend forever with.

=====================================

I go on vacation with a girl I work with every year, Sally, since I started working with her two years ago. This year, we chose to go to Arizona. I was super excited because we had also planned on going to Las Vegas and Los Angeles.

Drew was extremely supportive and was happy that I was getting the opportunity to travel. I was hesitant with wanting to go at first because I had wanted to save up enough money to visit Drew while he was filming.

However, we both agreed his schedule was too hectic at the time and that we wouldn’t be able to properly spend time with each other. We were both disappointed, but still I was excited to go with my friend.

Or so I thought…

The trip was slowly turning into a disaster, everything that could have gone wrong did. My friend had brought along her niece, Caroline, which I didn’t mind despite not knowing her very well. It felt like the trip was mainly focused on them and I was just there to be the chauffeur.

I called Drew the first three nights of my stay crying because they were so awful to me. Drew being the sweet man he is offered to pay for a flight home, but I declined. I already had spent too much money to not finish out the trip.

“But sweetheart, if you’re not having a good time there’s no point in being there.” Drew pressed, his handsome face lighting up my phone screen.

“I know honey, but I’ve already spent a thousand dollars for this trip. I can’t just come home and leave them here.” I sighed, snuggling further into what would be my bed for another 10 dreadful days.

“I’ll give you the money back angel, I just don’t want you to be miserable when this is supposed to be a relaxing trip.” Drew insisted.

“I’m not taking your money Drew you spoil me enough.” I smiled, wishing more than anything he was lying here with me so I could kiss his cute face.

“I always want to spoil you baby, you mean the world to me.” he professed, grinning widely afterwards.

“I miss you so much,” I whispered, my heart aching to feel his strong arms around me.

“I miss you more,” he whispered back, pouting his lips slightly.

We talked until one of us fell asleep only to call back the next morning. My friends even had the nerve to comment on how much I talked to him.

“It’s a little obsessive...I mean you guys have been together for what a year?” Sally condescended, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Yeah? So what?” I questioned, the annoyance clear in my tone.

“I’m just saying it’s weird.” she scoffed, crossing her arms behind her head as we laid out in the sun by our pool.

“It’s weird for me to talk to my boyfriend?” I asked, making sure I was extra sarcastic.

“Every second of the day...yeah.” she chuckled, making my blood boil even higher.

I chose to be the bigger person however, and just kept to myself.

=====================================

The 5th day of my vacation, I hadn’t heard from Drew the whole day. It worried me, but I was also thinking about what Sally said. Maybe I was being clingy…

A knock on the door startled me from my thoughts. I thought maybe one of the girls had ordered food or something, so I opened the door and my mouth dropped open.

“Hi baby,” Drew greeted, my eyes watering from pure joy.

“Drew! What are you doing here?!” I asked excitedly, throwing myself in his arms.

“I came to see my baby,” he mumbled into my cheek, placing a gentle kiss on the red skin from being in the sun.

“Are you actually fucking kidding me?!” Sally exclaimed from behind us.

“Well nice to meet you too.” Drew mumbled sarcastically while letting go of me but not completely.

“Chill Sally, he’s just here a few days.” I huffed, rolling my eyes as I turned to face her.

“This is supposed to be OUR vacation!” She reiterated, throwing her arms out.

“It still is our vacation,” I emphasized.

“Not when you’ll be all over your boyfriend!” she shouted.

“I barely get to see him as it is Sal, you know that.” I said softly, trying to gain an empathy pass so she would just leave me alone.

“Whatever,” she sighed, clearly irritated as she stomped off.

I paid her no mind since she threw fits all the time like this. I pulled Drew to the room I was staying in, slamming the door shut. Drew threw his stuff by mine, then smirked at me and tackled me on the bed. I let out a little squeal, beaming up at the handsome man that I got to call mine.

“I’m so happy now,” I confessed, biting down on my lip to try and keep my tears in.

“Me too my love,” Drew whispered, sealing our lips for the first real kiss we had shared in a long time.

=====================================

Today was the day we were taking a drive to Las Vegas, which I was very very excited for. It was a nice change to wake up to soft kisses instead of Sally barging in here and demanding I wake up.

“Good morning beautiful,” Drew murmured in his deep morning voice, his kisses continuing their loving assault.

“This is a very nice wake up,” I giggled, snuggling further into him.

Drew hummed in agreement against the skin of my neck, his slight stubble tickling the delicate area. His large hands felt up the curve of my hips, taking my(his) shirt with them.

Drew had always claimed since we started dating that he was obsessed with the wide curves that I hated more than anything. He even said he loved how thick my thighs were, which I never thought in a million years I’d hear come from a man’s mouth.

“I love you, my girl. ” he whispered, my heart fluttering in my chest.

“I love you, my man.” I whispered back.

Our moment was rudely interrupted when Sally banged on the door saying we needed to hurry up. I couldn’t control my eyes from rolling in annoyance as Drew and I untangled from each other. We got ready quickly before making our way to the car to start the four hour trip.

=====================================

The drive was smooth sailing, Drew and I taking turns driving while Sally pouted about having to sit in the back. My hand clenched Drew’s tightly at her sly comments. Luckily, Drew wasn’t having it with her since he knew I wouldn't say anything.

“So this is the guy you’ve been obsessing over for the past year?” she asked snootily, knowing it would irritate me.

“I think it’s more like I’m obsessed with her.” Drew spoke up, squeezing my hand before smiling at me.

“Really? She never shuts up about you.” Sally retorted, raising a challenging brow at him.

“Well, I’m glad because I’m the same way with my friends, they love her.” Drew chuckled, but I could tell he was just as irritated as I was.

We stopped to get gas thankfully or otherwise I would have exploded. I stomped inside to the restrooms, slamming the stall door shut.

I got in the drivers side after I came out, Drew waiting by the door to open it for me. I smiled small at him, getting on my tipey toes to kiss him quickly before getting in.

We finally had made it, but things were not looking good. I had accidentally ended up in the old part of Vegas instead of the main strip, and Sally blew up on me.

“How can you be so fucking stupid is it really that hard to type shit in on a map?!” she screeched.

“It’s not that big of a deal, we're not far,” Caroline commented, annoyed with her aunt's attitude.

“God this is a fucking disaster I don’t even want to be here anymore!” she shouted, my hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. Drew sat in silence, not sure what to do to diffuse the tension.

“God will you just shut up! I don’t know where every fucking place is in the world! This is my first time here just as it is yours, now just shut the hell up and let me concentrate!” I finally snapped, angrily typing on my phone to figure out where we needed to be.

I found where Caesar’s Palace was located, and they just so happened to have free parking as well. I slammed the gas and took us there. Drew and I got out of the car, but Sally and Caroline didn’t budge.

A few minutes later, Caroline storms out of the car slamming the door as hard as she could. She rushed past Drew and I, heading towards the exit.

“I’m sorry y/n, I hate that she treats you like that.” Caroline spoke up once we exited the parking garage.

“I’m used to it, she talks to me like that at work too.” I confessed, Drew whipping his head towards me.

“Y-You never told me that…” he murmured, looking down at me with an almost hurt expression.

I shook my head at him, signaling now was not the time.

=====================================

Sally threw her tantrum, then met us in the Bellagio. We sort of made up, but I did it merely so the rest of the day wasn’t awkward. Drew was quiet, probably still a bit upset with me.

We toured the hotel, the decorative flowers and artistry truly breathtaking. We ended up in front of Hell’s Kitchen where we would be eating later tonight. Drew and I took some pictures together to post on our stories while Sally and Caroline walked towards Caesar’s Palace.

“I wish you’d let me say something,” Drew blurted, sitting on one of the steps with me standing between his legs.

“No Drew, it will just make things worse.” I sighed, leaning into him.

“She’s so mean to you my love, I don’t like it.” he stated, his arms coming around me.

“I’ll be ok baby,” I mumbled, playing with his hair while smiling down at him.

“How about...you and I sneak away.” Drew suggested, tapping his fingers on my hips.

“Then they’d really be pissed,” I chuckled.

“We can just say we got lost.” he shrugged.

“Why do I feel like you’re up to something Starkey?” I questioned, raising my brow at him.

“I may or may not have booked us a room for today.” he grinned slyly, suddenly pulling me tight against him.

“To cuddle?” I teased, smirking as I ran my hands up his chest to the hairs at the back of his neck.

“Well yes...but also to fuck.” Drew said bluntly, smiling as I gasped at him.

“Joseph Starkey!” I exclaimed, giggling as my cheeks turned a deep shade of red.

“Baby come on it’s been sooooo long, my balls are aching.” he whined, cupping his hand over his manhood.

“Awwww are they? My poor baby boy.” I pouted, rubbing his cheeks with my thumbs.

He nodded, his lips pouting out as well. I couldn’t help the smile widening on my face, his cute pout making my insides melt.

“Let’s go then Drewbear,” I giggled, pulling his arms to stand up.

=====================================

We quickly checked in, rushing up to the room. I didn’t have time to appreciate the beauty of the room, Drew immediately spinning me around and lifting me into his arms. Drew laid us down on the bed, my phone rang out, no doubt one of the girls calling.

“Drew, I-I should get that.” I panted, his kisses moving down my neck. I felt his hand snake down my body, reaching into my pocket to take out my phone.

“They’ll be fine without us,” Drew smirked, lifting up and silencing my phone.

“Drew I should at least text the-” I started, but stopped talking when Drew took his shirt off.

“Sorry baby, were you saying something?” he asked rhetorically, smirking at my staring eyes. I shook my head, my eyes traveling down his toned form.

Drew stared down at me, his gaze sending chills down my spine. His hands traveled from my knees, down my thighs, up until they reached the bottom of my shirt. His eyes flickered to mine, and I nodded my head. Drew’s hands went under my shirt, my breath hitching in my throat.

I lifted my hands, sitting up a little so Drew could take my shirt off. He tossed it to the ground with his, while he did that, I unhooked my bra and threw it in the same direction before laying back down. Drew’s hands ventured towards my breasts as his lips explored the skin of my collarbones, lightly nipping at the area. I couldn’t contain the moan that escaped when Drew lightly rolled my nipples between his fingers,

“Fuck,” I whispered, my nails lightly digging into his scalp as I tugged on his hair.

Drew wasted no time in getting to where he really wants. He shoved off both our pants and underwear, situating me just how he likes before he buried his face in me. His tongue worked wonders, licking and sucking on each spot that made me tick.

“Oh my, baby please don’t stop.” I begged, my back arching slightly off the bed as my legs started enclosing towards his head. Drew lifted his head momentarily to stick two of his fingers in gently, my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

“My girl has such a pretty pussy.” he commented, his breath ghosting over where his tongue had just been.

I moaned loudly at his praise, gripping the sheets between my fingers as I felt my orgasm just in reach. Drew smiled as his mouth went back to work, his fingers increasing their pace as well. I could feel the band about to snap, my legs shaking the closer I got. With just the slight curl of his fingers, the flick of his tongue, and I was done for.

“I’m-” I gasped, not finishing my sentence as my orgasm hit me like a freight train.

“Mmmmm fuck yes baby,” Drew groaned, working me through it as he watched the cum drip from his fingers and onto the bed sheets.

Drew took his fingers from me, sliding them in his mouth to suck them clean. My stomach fluttered watching him, it was the hottest thing I had ever seen him do. He then grabbed my hips and flipped us over so I was on top, my head spinning a bit from the quickness of his movements.

“My turn princess,” Drew smiled, kissing my lips hotly before lying back down.

I smirked down at him, kissing my way down his body. I got to his vline, leaving my mark down it until I got to his dick. I licked from his balls to the tip, squealing lightly when his hand was suddenly in my hair. His chest was moving at a rapid pace, his eyes burning into mine as I took him in my mouth.

“I missed your mouth so much my love, fuck it’s so good.” he moaned, throwing his head back.

I moved my head up and down, using my hands to meet my mouth with what I couldn’t fit in my mouth. His grip on my hair tightened, pushing my head slightly. I gagged once I got to the base, taking a deep breath as my eyes watered.

“I’m gonna cum,” Drew panted, thrusting his hips into my mouth as I sucked harder. I pulled all the way up, sucking on his tip and flicking my tongue as fast as I could. He moaned as he came, spurting his seed into my mouth.

“Let me see, did you swallow it all my good girl?” Drew asked, pulling my hair so my mouth was removed from him.

“Mhm,” I hummed as I showed him my tongue that was clean.

Drew smiled at me, moving his hold to either side of my face and smashing my mouth to his. I held his wrists, moaning softly into his mouth as I shuffled closer.

“Come on beautiful, I want to see you on top.” Drew whispered, helping me straddle his waist and inserting himself inside me.

“Oh my god, Drew.” I groaned, digging my nails into his shoulders.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good.” Drew grinned, helping me move on top of him.

I rolled my hips into his, the tip of his cock hitting my gspot which had me a moaning mess. Drew slid a hand down so his thumb rubbed against my clit, a high pitched whine flying from my lips as I moved faster.

“I could live in your pussy,” Drew moaned, his thumb pressing harder.

“Drew,” I pleaded, throwing my head back before coming back to stare into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Would you like that baby? To sit on my cock all day?” he growled, thrusting his hips upwards to meet mine as I came down.

“Yes, I would love it.” I whimpered.

“I can feel how close you are my love, cum with me.” he demanded, but I was already there before he finished his sentence.

“F-uck baby,” I squeaked, my body going to cloud nine as I shook on top of him.

Drew came seconds later, burying himself inside of me. I laid my head on his shoulder, ran out of energy to keep myself upwards.Drew held me to him, laying back on the bed as we calmed down.

“Ok?” he asked.

“Amazing,” I answered.

=====================================

After we met up with Sally and Caroline, explaining how ‘lost’ we were, we ate dinner at Hell’s Kitchen. It was amazing, but definitely not worth the price. We walked around a few more shops in Caesar’s Palace, actually getting lost and taking a while to find the way out.

Once we did, we came across a group of men walking by…

“Damn she thicc,” one commented.

“Ooooh she got a nice one, hello!” another yelled.

Drew turned around to say something, but I yanked his hand to keep walking.

“Do not,” I hissed.

Drew instead to make it clear I was taken, placed his hand directly on my ass.

“Drew! We’re in public!” I whisper yelled, but he made no move to remove his hand.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he shrugged.

“Hey baby! Why don’t you leave your pretty boy to be with a man for a night!” someone else called, Drew’s eyes narrowing.

I was suddenly airborne, Drew bending down and lifting me into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist, surprised to say the least.

“Drew! Put me down!” I yelped, holding on to his shoulders.

“Apparently, these boys need to know you’re taken.” Drew snapped, tightening his grip on me.

“Seriously babe, you’re gonna hurt your back.” I mumbled.

“Didn’t you say your feet were hurting babydoll?” he questioned.

“Yes, but Drew-” I started.

“You’re light as a feather my love, I could carry you all day.” he spoke softly, kissing my nose before coming to a stop in front of the water show between Caesar’s Palace and the Bellagio. He sat me on the railing, standing between my legs with his hands placed on my hips. I kissed his cheek, smiling at how sweet and protective this man of mine was.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you baby,” he whispered back, sealing the deal with a soft kiss as the water show ended.

=====================================

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[yournameoneverypage]

Moon Over Miami

Anon request; Shawn Mendes x (y/n).

~3.1k

Warnings: Language.

~ * ~

You scowled at your overflowing carry on. You really didn’t want to bring something bigger, because that would mean baggage check and waiting at luggage carousels and that was just a headache waiting to happen.

Shawn was stretched across your bed on his back, tossing a tennis ball in the air and catching it again. “(Y/n), it’s Miami and we’re only going to be there for four days,” he chuckled. “You do not need to pack so many clothes.”

“Yes, I do. You’re a boy; you don’t understand.”

“First off, I am not a boy. I am a man, and a very attractive one at that.”

You rolled your eyes. Even if you wholeheartedly agreed, you were not going to stroke his ego.

“At the very least, lose most of the makeup. You’ll just sweat it off anyway. And you know I like you better without all that gunk on your face.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do or don’t like, now does it?” you snarked.

He sat up and leaned back against the pillows at the headboard. “I just meant that you’re already so pretty, naturally.”

Shawn was always finding little ways to compliment you and, secretly, you loved it, even if it made you blush, even if it was hard to believe some days.

“Fine.” You threw your hands up in the air in frustration. “You pack for me then.”

“Fine. I will.” He stood from the bed and poked your side. “So dramatic,” he teased, dancing his fingertips from ribcage to hip.

You gave him a small shove, and quickly moved out of tickling range (he knew where your most sensitive spots were). You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Don’t stick it out unless you intend to use it,” he smirked.

“Ha! You wish,” you giggled.

~ * ~

You and Shawn.

It was...confusing.

You had first met him five months ago and had become a regular fixture in his life over the past three. You were friends, good friends. Good friends who spent a ridiculous amount of time together. Good friends who flirted. A lot.

There were feelings, definitely on your side, growing stronger every day you spent together, and you were starting to believe there were deeper feelings on his side as well.

Other than outright pressing your lips to his, and you had never really been that forward with anyone, you weren’t sure what to do to tip the scales from friendship and flirtation to more.

You could simply tell him you were falling for him and that you wanted to take your relationship to the next level, but that scared you even more than the thought of kissing him.

~ * ~

Fifteen minutes later, Shawn stood smugly beside you. Your bag was packed neatly, and you were happy with everything he chose (not that you would admit that to him), which showed you he knew you better than you thought he did. There was even enough room left over for accessories.

It shouldn’t have surprised you; he was pretty adept at packing, having been on tour so often.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“But you want to.”

Shawn laughed.

You only added two things, just to prove a point.

~ * ~

You may as well have been in Florida with only Brian and Connor for as often as Shawn had been around the first two days.

The trip had started out incredibly.

You took a redeye from LA to Miami. Shawn held your hand during takeoff and landing. It was your first time flying first class; you didn’t care that you slept through most of it.

Shawn had rented a 3-bedroom beachfront bungalow for the long weekend and had ordered a breakfast basket to be waiting for you when you got there. Everyone ate their fill of croissants and muffins and fresh fruit while you sipped your tea and coffee. Afterward you all agreed that a morning nap poolside sounded ideal.

Shawn claimed the double lounger for the two of you. You curled up beside him and he threw a light blanket over both his and your legs. You laid your head on his shoulder and were asleep within minutes.

When you opened your eyes again, after the best nap you may have ever had in your life thus far, Shawn was no longer beside you. You could see him just inside the back door, talking on his phone.

“Hey,” he announced, returning to the patio, after seeing that you, Brian, and Connor had all awoken. “I’m going to catch up with Camila. I’ll text you after lunch; see where you are.”

~ * ~

You didn’t see Shawn again that first day until you were making plans to spend the evening in South Beach for sunset drinks, dinner, and then a pub crawl for even more drinking.

The boys teased you for being such a lightweight. You were blissfully buzzed, which made it easier for you to let your inhibitions go. Shawn was more intoxicated than you were, which made it a lot easier for you to tug him onto the dance floor.

Flush against him while you moved together to the music, fingertips grazing bare skin, it was too easy to forget that you had been upset with him at all.

Spending all afternoon at the Bayside Market in the hot Miami sun, followed by a night of drinking and dancing into the very early hours of the morning had finally caught up with you. By the time you made it back to the bungalow, you were piggyback on Shawn, your sandals dangling from his fingers by the straps.

~ * ~

Day 2 began with three boys nursing hangovers much worse than yours. You did little things to annoy them, on purpose, which was, admittedly, not very nice of you. You knew they’d had enough when they decided to throw you in the pool. When Shawn reached out, laughing, to help you out, you pulled him in instead.

He chased you into one of the corners of the deep end, trapping you between the pool wall and his hard, wet chest, his arms on either side of you. You had to hold onto his biceps to keep yourself afloat, which, from the look in his eyes, was exactly how and where he wanted you.

Your heart was telling you to use this position to your advantage, finally tip those scales, and you might have if it had been the night before when you were a little drunk. Regretfully, you were sober and when you were sober you tended to overthink things. Now that you were sober, he was too close.

You ducked underwater, under his arm, and quickly pulled yourself out of the pool.

~ * ~

Once you were dry and dressed, you dragged Shawn, Connor, and Brian to Wynwood to go on a golf cart tour of the Walls. They had all been to Miami before, more than once, so they had put you in charge of the itinerary.

From Wynwood you made your way to Little Havana.

After a string of late afternoon texts from Camila, Shawn asked if she could join the four of you for dinner. He wanted you to meet her.

They tried their best to be inclusive throughout dinner, and Camila was certainly nice enough, but still you felt like the fifth wheel, the spare, most of the time.

After dinner, Shawn and Camila wandered off together. When it became clear that Shawn wouldn’t be returning to the house with the rest of you, your heart sank. You stewed in your hurt until it became anger.

You understood that Camila was one of Shawn’s best friends, and he hadn’t seen her for a while. You could forgive him for the day before, but this was supposed to be your trip. You, Brian, Connor, and Shawn. D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers. If all Shawn had wanted to do was hang out with Camila, why had he bothered to invite you at all? You held no grudge against or felt any ill will toward Camila. It wasn’t her fault that Shawn was being a clueless dick.

~ * ~

You were laying on your side, looking out the window of which you forgot to close the blinds. The moon reflected off the still water of the pool that you could see from your room.

You heard the quietest clearing of someone’s throat. You rolled over to see Shawn leaning against the frame of the doorway, bare chested, in soft gray pajama bottoms.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly. You couldn’t sleep either, even though you were exhausted.

You really didn’t want to spend the remainder of your time in Miami being angry with him. There were still two days left. You patted the mattress on the empty side of your bed. That was all the invitation he needed.

Shawn crawled into bed beside you, tugged on the open collar of the other half of his pajamas, and chuckled, “Thief.”

“It’s so soft, and it smells like you,” you whispered.

Shawn laid his head on your stomach and you instinctively started to run your fingers through his hair, tugging gently on his curls. You heard him sigh deeply, contentedly, and the next thing you remembered was waking up to the bright morning sun.

~ * ~

You smiled and stretched languidly. Shawn must have made his way back to his own room during the night sometime. You didn’t hear anyone else up and about yet. You decided to surprise the boys by making breakfast.

Brian and Connor stumbled into the kitchen, following the smell of sizzling bacon and strong coffee.

“Is Shawn still sleeping?” you asked.

Connor and Brian exchanged a look. Connor cleared his throat and said, “Shawn isn’t here.”

You didn’t even have to ask where he had gone. Returning to your room you retrieved your phone on the nightstand. You hadn’t bothered to check it when you woke up.

There was a group text from Shawn that read:

Grabbing a workout and then a quick breakfast with Camila. Be back soon.

Brian and Connor were nearly finished eating when Shawn returned, oblivious to what he was walking into. He grabbed a few slices of bacon and sat down to join them at the kitchen island.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

Brian and Connor shook their heads at him. “You can be such a prick sometimes,” Brian said. Both he and Connor then stood and left the room.

Confused, Shawn glanced around and suddenly it all made sense. “Shit,” he said to himself, under his breath.

~ * ~

Shawn stood in your bedroom doorway like he had the night before.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You refused to acknowledge him.

“I didn’t know you were going to make breakfast or I would have been back sooner.”

You wanted to bite at him that he shouldn’t have been gone at all.

You had just pulled on your swimsuit cover up when you turned to him. His eyes snapped from your ass to your eyes. You slipped on your sunglasses, grabbed your beach bag, and said, “Brian, Connor, and I will be on the beach, if you decide you want to join us.” You pushed past him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he replied.

~ * ~

You purposely chose to wear the smallest, sexiest bikini you had with you. It wasn’t one you yourself would have packed but since Shawn had been the one to pack your carry on he must have wanted to see you in it. The day you bought it was a day when you were feeling particularly confident in your body.

By the time Shawn made it down to the beach, he found you in conversation with two young men who weren’t Brian or Connor. You had removed your cover up and stood before them in your tiny white string bikini.

You were laughing at something one of them was saying. Shawn saw you reach out and briefly place your hand on his forearm.

Shawn was unprepared for the surge of violent irritation that nearly overtook him.

He saw you notice him. He bristled when you leaned in and said something in the other man's ear. He watched as you slid the temple tip of your sunglasses between your teeth. He saw you put your hand on your waist and slightly arch your back. He watched as you touched the small pendant of the necklace you were wearing and drew it away from the skin between your breasts.

Shawn hated the way the two men were looking at you. His stomach churned; his muscles tensed; his heart felt too tight in his chest. He couldn't take anymore.

Sidling up beside you, he wrapped his large hand around the nape of your neck, gently yet possessively.

“Oh, hi Shawn,” you said casually, shrugging out of his grip. “Meet my new friends, Chase and Evan.” You smiled at them, fluttering your eyelashes and biting softly on your lower lip.

“Boyfriend?” Chase asked.

“Oh no, Shawn and I are just friends.” You eased closer to Evan and reached out, meaning to touch the bracelet he was wearing, but before you could, Shawn grabbed your wrist.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he gritted through a fake smile, pulling you away.

“Let go of me,” you snapped. He did, immediately. He never had nor would he ever do anything to physically hurt you.

Brian and Connor, having seen more than enough, hurried toward you. They made you and Shawn take a step back.

“What the hell is going on?” Connor exclaimed.

“(Y/n) is being childish,” Shawn growled.

Maybe you were, but you were upset, goddamn it. “Me?! Look who’s talking! You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend! You have no claim on me!”

“You’re both being childish!” bit Brian. “And you’re starting to cause a scene. Get over yourselves and fucking talk like adults. If you can’t, walk away,” he admonished.

Shawn ran a hand through his hair and tugged frustratingly on his curls before storming off.

Brian gestured for Connor to stay with you and he followed after Shawn.

“Why did you have to antagonize him?” Connor questioned.

You glared at him. “This is not my fault. Of course you’re on his side.”

“I am on no one’s side. You’re both at fault, and you fucking know it. Yeah, he’s kind of been an asshole, but you didn’t have to flirt with those guys so brazenly right in front of him.” Connor’s voice softened. “You know how he feels about you, (y/n). You should apologize.”

You were thoroughly abashed but still feeling stubborn. You turned on Connor and said, “I will when he does.”

You put your cover up back on, slipped into your sandals, and grabbed your clutch which held your wallet, your eReader, and your phone. You trusted Connor to bring everything else back to the bungalow for you.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“For a walk. I need to be alone.”

~ * ~

The sun was going down when you returned to the house.

When you walked in the door, Shawn, who had been sitting on the edge of the ottoman, stood, and approached you cautiously. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You were starting to worry us,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry. I needed some time to cool off and to think.”

“I’m just glad you’re safe.” His relief was palpable. He stepped even closer to you. “I’m sorry. For how I acted and what I said on the beach. It’s inexcusable.”

“I am, too. I should never have purposely tried to upset you.” You unconsciously reached out and ran your fingertips along the V of Shawn’s t-shirt. “That was the first time we’ve ever fought... I didn’t like it.”

He covered your hand with his, flattening your palm against his heart, which you could feel was beating quite quickly. “Come and have dinner. It’s time to stop thinking and start talking.”

He smirked and began walking backward, hand still over yours.

It was that smirk that set your heart thumping. You followed, curiously, anxiously.

On the back patio was a romantic table set for two, surrounded by tea lights and lit candles.

“Shawn? What’s going on?” you asked, breathlessly.

He crossed to the table and pulled one of the chairs out for you. “Sit, Love. Eat.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“What?” He felt as if his heart might break.

“Too many butterflies.” You softly bit your bottom lip.

“Oh,” he breathed.

“Can we talk first?”

“Of course.”

You walked over to and sat down on the outdoor sectional.

Shawn dropped down beside you with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I’ve been, well, an asshole seems to be the overall consensus. I shouldn’t have ditched you to spend so much time with Camila.”

“I know you’re close,” you said, “and I know it had been awhile since you’d seen her. I tried to be understanding.”

“No,” he interrupted, “this is on me. This was supposed to be our trip. You, Brian, Connor, and me.”

“D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers,” you said in unison and you both laughed.

Shawn leaned closer you. “Do you want to know the truth?” he asked, as if it was the greatest secret he held, which, to him, it was. “She was talking me through my feelings for you.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “She made it very clear to me that I was ‘estúpido’ for spending time with her instead of the person I should be, for talking through my feelings with her instead of with the one I really needed to talk with.”

“You have feelings for me?” you breathed, feeling your entire body flush, not just your cheeks.

Shawn laughed softly and took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “It’s not obvious? I was jealous of those other guys because I want to be the boyfriend. I want the right to call you mine... I’m falling in love with you, (y/n). Which is insane since we haven’t even kissed yet. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to; every time I see you I want to kiss you.”

Without warning, you pressed your lips to his. It took him not even a moment to respond, pulling you onto his lap and cupping your face. Kissing Shawn was even better than you had ever imagined it would be.

When finally you eased away from him, breathless, you confessed, “I’m falling in love with you too, Shawn. I want you to be mine. I want to be only yours.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you whenever I want to?” he whispered, grinning happily.

“Over and over and over again,” you breathed.

His lips once more met yours. Your hands encircled the nape of his neck. Tender and unhurried turned deep and delicious.

Your lips left his with an audible ‘aʘa’ and you giggled. “Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

Shawn’s answering laugh, rich and lightsome, was everything.

~ * ~

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida