#i've just been busy so i haven't updated it in a while
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nattikay · 1 year ago
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hmmmmmmm ngl kinda think i wanna make a werewolf cowboy :3c
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isjasz · 2 years ago
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Hi I love your fanart! ❤️
Sorry for the late reply. Thank you that means a lot 🫶🫶
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hexitca · 6 days ago
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hm...I should bring back my cotl OC
i know I kinda faded out in that fandom and kept her mini clone (Charlotte) and reused the name Saffron for another OC that I want to keep with that name but idk I really liked her design lol
i do wanna rename her tho hm
lol she's still my icon for this account
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chvoswxtch · 3 months ago
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revelation
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: billy's questioning leads to more than one epiphany you weren't ready for.
warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, lots of angst, billy being the shithead he is
word count: 4.2k
a/n: I know y'all were big mad at me last update. I don't know if this one makes up for it or not. but...enjoy. :) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
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Flickers of flesh colored light began to flash in your brain. It was as if each of your senses were rebooting one by one, your body slowly clawing its way out of the darkened abyss you’d been lost in. Murmurs of conversation and clinks of metal crept into your eardrums. While that sickly sweet artificial chemical taste lingered on your tongue, a dull throbbing was emanating from the back of your head. Trying to inhale a deep breath, a familiar strong cologne seemed to flip the switch of consciousness. 
“Ah, there she is.”
As your eyes fluttered open, you fought through the haze of disorientation, forcing your vision to clear. A blur of green approached slowly, and after blinking a few times, the fuzzy silhouette came into focus. Billy knelt down in front of you, a serpentine smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. 
Your bones felt like they were made of stone, but when you tried to move, you realized it wasn’t just a mental restriction, but also a physical one. Glancing downwards, you saw that your wrists and legs had been bound to the chair you were in with black leather straps. White hot rage struck through your nervous system like a bolt of lightning. 
“What the hell is going on?”
“You tell me.”
“I'm the one tied to a chair here, asshole.”
Billy let out an amused chuckle at your sharp snap, his dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief. 
“Just a precaution, darlin’. I've seen you in action, and I like my face the way it is.”
Narrowing your eyes in resentment, your lips were set in a tight line as you clenched your jaw while simultaneously clenching your fists. Billy’s eyes flickered down to your hands before returning to your heated glare, and he let out a deep exhale through his nose. Standing up fully, he grabbed a wooden crate to his left and dragged it over towards you. After sitting down on the edge of it and folding his arms over his chest, he gave a faint nod of his head in your direction.
“I need to know what you know.”
“About what?”
“Frank and Madani.”
Pure annoyance laced with confusion quickly creased between your brows, and your exasperation was evident in your tone.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Billy. That’s what this is about? I told you I don't know anything. Okay, whatever you and Madani have Frank working on-”
Billy suddenly cut you off, snapping his fingers before pointing his index finger in your direction.
“Ah, see, that right there. Madani and I don't work together. We never have. Anvil has a contract with Homeland, but my business is with them, not her.”
Billy paused for a moment, letting those words linger in the air. He searched your face for any flicker of recognition that would give you away, but all he could see in your expression was perplexity. And that you were royally pissed off. Either you had one hell of a poker face, or you truly didn’t know anything. He was determined to find out.
“And I haven't assigned anything to Frank in almost two months, because he told me he needed some personal time to take care of somethin’. So imagine my surprise when you tell me that he’s got some business goin’ on with me and Madani.”
Every word that left Billy’s lips left you feeling confused. It was like he was single handedly ripping up the pieces of what you thought you knew regarding this entire situation with Frank. The ferocity of your anger dulled slightly, becoming overshadowed by disillusionment. 
“I…I don't understand.”
“Well that makes two of us.”
In an instant, your brain began to replay every single conversation with Frank over the last two months, trying to figure out what you were missing. You could feel in your gut that the answer was right in front of your face, but you were struggling to figure it out, and it left you feeling immensely frustrated. Dropping your gaze to the concrete floor beneath your feet, your eyes darted back and forth, like you were reading some invisible text written in the cracks.
I’m helpin’ Madani with somethin’. 
It’s personal.
Those were the key phrases that kept popping up in your head. They were the ones sticking out from the rest, and your foggy brain was relentlessly trying to figure out why. Closing your eyes, you tried to shift your mindset. You had to treat this like a story. You had to walk through what you knew, sort through the pieces Frank had given you, and connect the red string on the mental evidence board in your brain.
Thinking back to the conversation where you’d confronted Frank at his apartment about his strange behavior, you willed your brain to focus on what he’d said, and how he said it.
“He…he said he had a new assignment.”
Billy had been watching you closely, paying attention to the flash of varying emotions crossing your face. He could see that you were trying to figure something out in your head, and your words made him sit up straighter. 
“What did he say the assignment was?”
You remembered Frank looking remorseful as he sat on his couch, trying to explain the situation, but he had also looked…guarded. He didn’t maintain eye contact with you the entire time, which was strange, and when he did look at you, there had been something in his eyes besides guilt. It was a flicker of something you couldn’t decipher, because he was hiding it from you. Whatever it was, he didn’t want you to see it.
“He didn’t. He just said it was personal. He wouldn’t tell me anything about it.”
“What did he tell you?”
That feeling of frustration you’d felt during that initial conversation bubbled up once again, and you let out an irritated exhale through your nose as you opened your eyes and tilted your head back to look upwards. Wherever Billy had you, it appeared to be underground. There weren’t any windows, and the fluorescent overhead lights were harsh, aggravating your sensitive eyes. You swiftly shut them again to block out the light, trying hard to conjure that memory of Frank once more.
But all you could see was your mother. The unpleasant glare above brought you back to a sterile hospital room, and instead of Frank’s deep voice, you heard the daunting beeping on the machines that had controlled her fate with their wires, and the struggle of her labored breathing. Her body had turned against her, stolen her time, but it hadn’t been able to take her feisty spirit. 
Clenching your fists, you tried desperately to escape the memory, but your mother had always been as stubborn as you were. The phantom feeling of the chilled flesh that barely covered the bones of her hand touching your skin felt so real and vivid, you didn’t know if Billy had knocked you out again or not.
Her familiar voice from one of her last good moments, exhausted with illness, but still melodic with whimsy, played in your ears.
“Can you force the tide to come back to the shore?”
A furrow of confusion had settled between your brows at her interjection, and you’d refocused your attention from the book in your hands towards her.
“Did they up your meds?”
“Ha ha ha, smartass.”
Setting down the book you’d been reading her, you smiled at ever present sarcasm, and you’d rolled your eyes playfully.
“No mom, I can’t force the tide to come back to the shore.”
“And why is that?”
There had been a glimmer of playfulness in her eyes, even though they were slightly sunken in and surrounded by dark circles. You had resisted the urge to answer literally about gravity and the moon, and instead let her continue with whatever point she was trying to make.
“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”
She’d reached out and placed her hand on top of yours, and her skin had been so cool to the touch, felt so fragile, it had made your heart constrict in your chest.
“Because it comes on its own. You just have to be patient, and let it come to you.”
Patience had never been your strong suit, especially when it came to putting things together, or trying to figure something out. If something didn’t click fast enough, you would get frustrated and try to coerce it, to make it make sense, which usually never worked in your favor. It wasn’t until you stopped trying so hard and took a step back that you had your biggest breakthroughs. Clearly, it was a lesson you were still trying to learn.
“Y/N. What did Frank say-”
“Can you shut the hell up? I’m trying to think.”
Billy narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips when you snapped at him through your gritted teeth, but he obliged. Letting out a quiet shaky breath, you resisted the urge to give into the emotions building up behind your eyelids from that memory. You slowly unclenched your fists and relaxed your jaw. 
Quit trying to force fragments together. Focus. Let it come to you.
Instead of rushing through the memories and waiting for the answers to pop out, you replayed them slowly, carefully analyzing over every frame, dissecting every word. Frank had been very cautious with his phrasing, but that wasn’t a coincidence. 
I’m helpin’ Madani with somethin’. 
Madani gave me some intel. 
Madani needed someone she could trust.
“He said that he was helping Madani-”
Madani. Frank said he was helping Madani. Not once had Frank mentioned Billy. He had only ever said Dinah’s name. 
Opening your eyes, you slowly lowered your head, looking straight forward at Billy. He arched one of his dark brows, an expectant look on his face.
“Said he was helpin’ Madani with what?”
For a moment you stared at Billy in complete silence. Something wasn’t right. As soon as you had let it slip in your office that Frank was working with Madani, Billy had physically reacted. There was something that had flashed in his eyes, darkening them to momentary blackness. His voice was cold when he’d questioned you about it, almost…angry. You’d initially thought it was because he thought you knew something you weren’t supposed to about Frank’s “assignment”. 
But now you realized it was because he didn’t know about it.
“Why didn’t Frank tell you?”
There was unmistakable suspicion in your voice, and it visibly caught Billy off guard. He narrowed his eyes slightly, cocking his head to the side as he looked at you.
“That’s what I’m tryin’ to figure out.”
Frank hadn’t mentioned anything about what he was doing with Madani to Billy, his best friend. The man he served side by side with for years, had formed a brotherhood with, who he had considered part of his family. That made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and a dreadful chill straightened your spine. He hadn’t been able to tell you exactly what was going on, but he’d at least given you something. 
Frank had mentioned owing Madani a debt, but he was loyal to a fault, and the fact that he hadn’t told Billy set off warning bells in your head. But Billy’s extreme reaction to being purposefully left in the dark was what set your nervous system ablaze with unease. 
The idea of Frank working with Madani without his knowledge seemed to set Billy off, triggering a volatile chain of events. He’d drugged you, kidnapped you from Curtis’ apartment, was essentially holding you hostage, and now he was interrogating you to figure out what you knew. 
One of Frank’s cryptic explanations abruptly parted through the lingering clouds of fogginess in your brain, shedding a blinding light on the most important piece that had been hidden in the shadows of your subconscious. 
“Oh my God.”
Your voice was barely above a whisper and shrouded in disbelief.
It’s connected to someone I know.
You remembered how Frank had stiffened when he’d said that, how his face had hardened to stone. His voice had been quiet, layered with an ominous undertone and barely concealed vitriol. He’d nearly morphed into a man you didn’t recognize right in front of your eyes, and it had made you shiver with discomfort.
And suddenly it clicked. Betrayal. That cold flicker in his eyes he tried to hide was betrayal.
“It’s you.”
Billy watched as the canvas of your face morphed into a portrait of realization and horror.
He visibly stiffened at those words, his lips pressing into a firm line, emphasizing the sharpness of his jaw. 
Billy. All of this was because of Billy. Whatever Madani had found, it was connected to him. That’s why she brought it to Frank. Little moments started to stand out in your head that made you wonder just how long ago Madani had planted the seed of doubt in Frank’s mind. Looking back, he’d acted strangely when you’d mentioned Billy’s name recently, but it was so subtle that you hadn’t even picked up on it.
But him being adamant about leaving you with Curtis, someone you’d never even heard about or met until yesterday, should've been a huge clue.
Knowing that what was causing the divide between you and Frank was none other than the man currently standing in front of you and whatever he had done, you were swiftly filled with an anger that turned your blood molten. Your disbelief and horror slowly hardened into a wall of ice, but your eyes were aflame with resentment.
“What did you do.”
It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation, and the way you grit it through your teeth demanded an answer. Billy’s eyes showed no hint of remorse, and he made no attempt to correct whatever conclusions you were drawing in your head in regards to his character. He rose to his feet, taking a step forward to tower over you, staring down into the flames of rancor blazing in your eyes with a steely gaze of his own. 
“I made something of myself.”
His voice was crisp and clear. There was no layer of apology, no waver of regret. Whatever he’d done, Billy felt justified in it. 
His arrogance had always pissed you off.
Slowly tilting your head to the side, you stared up at him in clear challenge, your tone razor sharp and dripping with venom.
“Yeah? What did it cost?”
The edge of his mouth twitched at your taunt. Grabbing your wrists that were strapped down to the arms of the chair, he leaned forward, getting right in your face as he spoke in an aggravated tone.
“I wasn't handed nothin’. I had to earn everything I got. I had to make some tough decisions along the way, maybe did a few things I'm not so proud of. Empires aren’t built without sacrifice.”
One of the last things Billy had said to you that day in your office when you’d mentioned Frank working with Madani was that some secrets were better left buried. That choice of phrasing left you with a gut feeling that it wasn’t what Billy had left buried, but who. 
“But you didn’t sacrifice anything, did you Billy? No…you sacrificed someone, and it’s come back to haunt you. So who was it? Someone important to Dinah? Or to Frank?”
“It doesn’t matter.” 
Billy snapped, suddenly getting defensive. His dark brown eyes had eclipsed into pools of disdain, and his lips were twisted into a faint snarl.
“I’m not lettin’ that bitch destroy everything I built.”
Rising to his full height once again, Billy’s expression shifted back into a passive and more controlled one as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
“I’m gonna send Frankie an invite to do a little trade, you for whatever he’s got.”
Letting out a dry scoff, you shook your head as you stared up at him.
“You’re really more concerned about losing your wealth than your best friend?”
“If he digs too deep, he’s gonna find somethin’ he ain’t gonna like, and the war he waged on New York is gonna look like a fuckin’ daydream compared the nightmare he’s gonna bring to my doorstep.”
Billy’s words seemed to pour over you like a bucket of ice, your fiery rage fizzling into frozen perplexity.
“War on New York? What are you talking about?”
Billy’s eyes flickered up from the phone in his hand, meeting your confused gaze. He arched one of his dark brows, looking at you curiously. 
“Oh c’mon, you haven’t figured it out yet? You’re a clever girl. You didn’t put together the pieces I gave you?”
“What pieces?”
“The gift I left on your desk.”
The file. The one that had Frank’s name on it. You’d had a sneaking suspicion Billy was the one that left it, but you never asked him about it, or paid it any attention after your argument with Frank. A furrow of annoyance settled between your brows.
“I never read it.”
Billy seemed genuinely surprised by that, and also confused.
“Why not?”
“Because it wasn’t my business, and Frank found it anyway and took it.”
He eyed you silently for a moment before slipping his phone back into his pocket and sitting back down on the edge of the crate. Billy cocked his head to the side slightly.
“He tell you how his family died?”
Immediately, you went rigid. A wave of emotions crested within you. The recollection of Frank’s vulnerability in opening up about his tragic loss was fresh. It wasn’t something you’d forget anytime soon, or ever. Hearing the grief in his voice, seeing the pain in his eyes; the worst day of Frank’s life was seared into your memory as deeply as the memory of your own. Billy bringing it up so casually incensed you all over again.
“Why does that matter?”
Billy let out a deep exhale of irritation through his nose at your defensive tone. 
“Did he tell you how they died?”
He repeated his words in a more firm voice, holding your heated gaze.
“Yes, you dick. What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
Instead of being angry at your insult, a smirk curled at the edge of Billy’s mouth. There was a wicked gleam in his eye, and it filled you with a sickening feeling of foreboding. 
“Pop quiz, sweetheart. Who were the three gangs the Punisher took out?”
Bewilderment wiped any lingering emotion from your face. Billy’s question seemed to send a shock through your brainwaves, causing a delay between it and your mouth.
“What?”
“C’mon, this is an easy one. You wrote an article about the guy. Who were they?”
Billy’s eyes twinkled with amusement under the harsh fluorescents, clearly enjoying knowing something you didn’t. He was taunting you, and despite knowing better than to give into his little game, your curiosity got the better of you.
“The Dogs of Hell, the Kitchen Irish, and the Mexican Cartel.”
Billy’s lips spread into a pleased smirk at your reluctant answer, and he gave you a faint not of his head.
“Good girl. Now, you had a uh, mentor, at the Bulletin. Ben, right?” 
The mention of Ben’s name sent a pang through you, but Billy’s sudden switch in topics from the Punisher’s victims to Ben gave you mental whiplash. He didn’t give you more than a second to react before he continued.
“He wrote an article a few years ago about a little shootout, ended in a massacre. Remind me, where was that?”
Anxiety shot through you, making every single hair on your body stand to attention. 
“Central Park.”
“And there was one survivor. What was his name?”
The apprehension you felt was evident in the way you lightly gripped onto the arms of the chair. You hadn’t known that answer when Ben originally worked on that article, but you knew it now. Trying to keep up the strong front you were putting on, you attempted to keep your voice even.
“His name was never released.”
“No, it wasn’t. But when he woke up from that coma and found out his entire family had been killed in that shootout, he sure as hell made sure that New York would never forget the one they gave him.”
Billy watched the way your expression transitioned from translucent coolness, to perplexity, and finally wary hesitance. Keeping his eyes locked on you, he slowly rose from the crate, stalking towards you, but instead of coming to a stop in front of you like he had earlier, he began to circle you like a predator. 
“Tell me sweetheart, who was there that day?”
“Why does that-”
“Just answer the question.”
Letting out a sharp exhale through your nose, you began to rattle off the details you remembered from the article.
“The Dogs of Hell, the Kitchen Irish, and the-”
Immediately, you froze. Billy came to a stop behind you, and you could almost feel the way he was staring at the back of your head intensely.
“And?”
His voice was calm, but you could detect a hint of amusement. He was enjoying this, forcing you to solve his little riddle. But this time, you didn’t want to put the pieces together. You didn’t want to solve this puzzle. You wanted to run away from it. 
“The Mexican Cartel.”
The words were barely a decibel above a whisper when they left your lips, but in the silence of the space, they seemed to roar in your ears. Your hands were now gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that your knuckles had gone stark white, the flesh stretched taut over the bone. 
Feeling Billy’s hands settle on your shoulders, you flinched, and he squeezed them roughly in response. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck as he bent down to speak directly into your ear.
“What’s his name?”
Billy was a master manipulator. He was toying with you, trying to get a rise out of you by messing with your head. That’s all this was. It was a cruel trick, trying to make you think that the man who had single handedly wiped out the three largest gangs in New York City was the John Doe from the hospital. The he was-
“C’mon, you’re a smart girl. I can see the gears turning in your head. You know his name. Tell me who the Punisher-”
“The Punisher is dead.”
The sharpness and volume of your voice seemed to echo around the space you were currently trapped in. 
“Dead, huh?”
Billy gave your shoulders another firm squeeze before letting go and appearing in front of you again. He looked down at you, taking in the way your eyes were wide open, your breathing had become ragged, and your nails nearly bled from digging them into the wood of the chair so hard. He knelt down in front of you, brushing your hair away from your face, causing you to flinch at his touch, which seemed to annoy him.
He ran his hand through the strands of his raven hair, pushing it back into its perfectly gelled style as he let out a deep exhale through his nose and glanced around absentmindedly.
“He should be. Shoulda died a long time ago. Hell, that bullet to the head shoulda put him down for good. But that stubborn son of a bitch just refuses to die.”
Shutting your eyes, you could see Frank in the cabin. The golden sunlight coming through the window, shining on his tan skin. His warm brown eyes locked on yours, making you feel like he could see right into your soul. The roughness of his calloused palms stroking your cheek while tucking your hair behind your ear. The velvet baritone of his voice echoing in your ears.
We uh…we were at Central Park. We had this uh…this tradition, ya’know. Every time I came home from a tour, we’d pack a picnic and go, make a whole day of it. 
I don’t uh…I don’t remember when the shootin’ started.
I…made peace with it, ya’know…laid it to rest in my own way. 
It was there. It was right there. Frank had inadvertently told you the truth that day, and you hadn’t even realized.
Billy could see the revelation you’d had when you opened your eyes. He could see the evidence of the truth shining along your bottom lash line. You were so thunderstruck by your epiphany, you didn’t budge this time when Billy reached out to brush a stray tear away from your face.
“Nah, he ain’t dead sweetheart. He's been right by your side this whole time. And when he finds out I've got you, he’s gonna come for you.”
It didn’t matter what Frank had found on Billy. As soon as he found out what Billy had done to you, he was coming. But it wasn’t Frank who was coming.
It was the Punisher.
tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress
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incorrectbatfam · 1 year ago
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Do the batfamily members ever get too into their undercover work? (Undercover in an office and theyre worried about spreadsheets, working in a warehouse and coming home complaining about missing parts)
Bruce: Status updates on your undercover missions. Dick, you first. What have you got down at the docks?
Dick: I haven't confirmed the Killer Croc sightings yet, but more importantly, our catch hasn't been measuring up to last year's. Tuna we're doing okay on, but the salmon population seems to be on the low end. I've contacted the Department of Wildlife and Fisheries but it'll be another 3-5 business days before they can come down and check it out.
Bruce: At least you're doing something to help. Jason?
Jason: Class was okay. I think the kids are warming up to me as their substitute while Mrs. Maloney is out on maternity leave. The average on the last vocabulary quiz was 83.53% so either I'm doing my job right or they need to be challenged. I'm worried about Tristan Lancy, though. He's normally a good student but his grades have been dropping recently and his parents don't seem like safe people to tell. I'll talk to him tomorrow and try to pair him up with a peer tutor if he needs it.
Bruce: Also see if he has any alternate contacts besides his parents. Tim, any updates at the chemical plant?
Tim: If by updates you mean OSHA violations, I could go on all week. We got a batch of new recruits today and they were just thrown into the work—no PPE, no safety training, nothing. This is what happens when you place production over employee well-being. I'm gonna file a complaint after this meeting. Also, I think the union will have something to say about the manager cutting people's lunch breaks short.
Bruce: I see. Damian? Please tell me you found something volunteering at the zoo.
Damian: Depends on how you define "found." While I have not obtained evidence of a mutant larvae black market, I did help some of the animals at the sanctuary make progress with their recovery. Bobo the monkey is healing from his broken arms and we're gradually getting him re-acclimated to climbing higher surfaces. Suzie the black bear was born a little prematurely but seems to be catching up to her peers in terms of growth. Lastly, we got a grant for additional wildcat research and enrichment. As an aside, we are having an educational seminar on European mountain goats this Friday at 3:30 and I expect all of you to be there.
Bruce: I'll put that on our calendars. Steph?
Steph: It's not really undercover work for me, just work. Anyway, yes the newest Batburger location is being used for money laundering. But I really need to vent about the customers for a sec. We don't open until 10 and at 9:30 this morning some moron was banging on our door demanding Jokerized cheese fries. Then right in the middle of the lunch rush, Janie got sick so I had to fill in as the cashier and it was hell. After that, I had to step in between a fight at the drive-thru because the customer claimed we only gave him nine pieces of his ten-piece Robin nuggets and tried to beat up the kid who took his order. And to top it all off, an entire high school hockey team came in five minutes before closing.
Bruce: Cass?
Cass, blowing balloons: Can't talk. Arranging bat mitzvah.
Bruce: Duke, you're my last hope.
Duke: Margie's bringing a peanut butter chocolate cake to the bake sale. I swiped her recipe and we can easily beat her. Her ganache is way too watery and just runs off the top of the cake, which isn't even leveled. She's also trying to do something with a raspberry filling that isn't working at all. It's like she couldn't decide on what to bring. The bake sale committee also asked if we can bring some apple pies because the original baker has to go out of town for a family emergency. I think we'll win if we bring them with some ice cream and a touch of caramel, even though this isn't a contest.
Bruce: Thank you. At least our most critical case has been taken care of.
Barbara: ...I'll save my book launch for later.
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writingwithciara · 25 days ago
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birthday cake -quinn hughes-
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summary: quinn believes everyone forgot his birthday in favor of thanksgiving. but that's simply not the case
word count: 2k
pairing: quinn hughes x reader
notes: in honor of the love of my life's birthday, i decided to cook up this little gem. hope everyone enjoys it. (should've been posted on his birthday but i got super busy because of thanksgiving & other projects i'm working on)
"hey quinn. do you have any plans for monday?"
"actually, yes." quinn looked up from his phone as brock entered the room. "why?"
"my sister wanted to invite you over to her place for thanksgiving. she said she gave you an invitation the other day but you just shoved it in your bag and that you haven't said anything to her since then."
"that's what that was? i thought she was just handing me some mail that was put in the wrong box."
"have you not seen her since tuesday? you live across the hall from each other."
"i know but our schedules haven't given us the time to chat. she's working when i'm home, and vice versa."
"you should text her and tell her you're going to be busy on monday. i think it would be best coming from you. maybe she won't be upset."
"i'll text her after practice." quinn set his phone in his bag and finished lacing up his skates.
during practice, everyone was talking about y/n's thanksgiving dinner. quinn was the only one who wouldn't be attending. and while he felt bad about it, seeing as she was one of his good friends, he also started to feel bad for himself.
monday was also his 25th birthday but it seemed like no one remembered.
practice went well. so when quinn walked to his car, he sent a text to y/n to let her know he wouldn't be able to show up to her dinner. he made up a lie and said he wouldn't be home.
his plan was to just stay home and watch game highlights while cooking his own meal.
when monday rolled around, y/n and brock were finishing up the food preparations when a thought occurred to y/n.
"oh my freaking god. it's the 14th today. how could i be so stupid?"
"i would love to object, or even agree, depending on what it's about." brock looked at his sister with a curious expression. he couldn't quite read her like he normally could. "care to let me know what you're talking about?"
"october 14th. quinn's birthday! how could i forget? i bake him a cake every year." y/n set her oven mitts back on the rack. "i am a terrible friend."
"i'm sure it's fine. quinn probably forgot about the cake anyway. pretty sure you're in the clear, y/n."
"brock, i've made the cake every single year since we've been friends. he loves it. you should see the way his face lights up when i deliver it to him."
"are you sure it's the cake he likes to see every year?" brock raised his eyebrow, earning a slap to the shoulder from his younger sister.
"brock, no."
"look, just bake him a cake today and give it to him tomorrow. i'm sure he won't mind."
"i don't have the time or oven space to bake a whole new cake." y/n shook her head. "i'm gonna run to the store and buy him one instead.
"people are going to be here any moment. i'm afraid it's gonna have to wait."
"can you please keep them company? i'll be back in 20 minutes."
"you're lucky you're my sister and i love you." brock smiled. "now go fix your friendship with your neighbor."
"love you, brocky." y/n kissed his forehead and went out to her car. she hated the idea of buying a cake from the store. it didn't have the personal touch that her homemade cake did and she knew it wouldn't live up to it either. but she was desperate.
when she got back to her apartment, brock was the only one there.
"nobody's here yet?"
"not yet. mom and steve are almost here. been getting location updates from steve."
"did he let mom drive?"
"yeah. that's probably why they're not here yet." brock chuckled and grabbed the cake from her hands. "this looks amazing. are you gonna try to pass it off as your own?"
"no. i could never lie to quinn." y/n smiled and took it back, setting it down in the fridge. "i'm just going to tell him the truth."
"that's new for you. are you that honest with everyone?"
"i don't think so. there's something different about quinn. he makes me want to be honest."
"have you ever lied to me?"
"no. of course not."
"okay. good." he looked at his sister. "i want you to answer a question then. i'm only gonna ask it once."
"alright. shoot."
"is there something going on between you quinn?"
"no, brock. that would be ridiculous."
"okay. i'm gonna ask it twice. is there something going on between you and quinn?"
"no. you told me he was off limits for dating, as well as the rest of your teammates. but i would be lying to you if i said i didn't think he was really good looking."
"you really think so?" brock's eyes widened at his sisters confession.
"mhm. i do. like, super insanely good looking."
"okay. well, thanks for the honesty." brock couldn't help but chuckle.
before y/n could respond, there was a knock at the door, followed by a few voices.
"sounds like your guests are here. i'll let them in." brock went to the door and opened it, letting their parents inside, along with a few other guests.
y/n spent the first half hour finishing up the meal before brock served it to everyone.
conversation flowed easily around the table, but y/n was stuck thinking about quinn. all his friends were with her and he was most likely alone.
when she stood up abruptly, it caught everyone's attention.
"are you okay?" brock asked.
"yeah. i just have something i really need to do." y/n walked over to the fridge and grabbed the cake. she left her apartment without another word and knocked on quinn's door.
"hey. what are you doing here?" quinn smiled when he answered the door.
"happy birthday." y/n handed him the cake and walked back towards her apartment.
quinn was left standing in his own doorway, staring at the cake. he was used to getting a cake from y/n every year. it was always homemade & this time, it was store bought. but he didn't care. someone actually remembered his birthday.
y/n walked back into her apartment and sat back down at the table. she ignored the looks everyone was giving her and continued eating. everyone went back to eating and talking with each other, quickly forgetting that y/n disappeared for a moment.
a few hours later, everyone was heading out. brock stayed behind to help y/n clean up.
"what did quinn say when you gave him the cake?"
"how did you know that's what i did?"
"you were beating yourself up over missing his birthday. and you left right after i told mom about quinn's goal the other night."
"i wasn't even paying attention to the conversations around me. all i could think about was how quinn's friends were here and nobody mentioned his birthday. i felt bad so i took the cake to him."
"and what did he say?"
"i have no idea. i came right back over here." y/n finished washing the last dish and handed it to brock so he could dry it.
"maybe you should go see him right now. i'm sure he would appreciate some company for the last little bit of his birthday. Oh, and take him some leftovers. dinner was delicious and i guarantee he'll love it." brock grabbed a plate and put all the food he could fit onto it. when he handed it to his sister, she hesitated. "take it to him, y/n. you can't keep beating yourself up over forgetting his birthday."
"you're right." she took the plate and walked to the door. "i'll be back."
"i'll be here." brock chuckled and started putting away the rest of the leftovers.
y/n knocked on quinn's door and waited patiently. when he opened it, she handed him the plate. he looked at her and smiled.
"what's this for?"
"thought you might like some leftovers from today."
"oh. well thank you. smells delicious." he set the plate on the table by the door. "would you like to come in? or do you still have company over there?"
"just brock." y/n smiled and walked into his apartment. "so, how was your birthday?"
"it was good. i got to have breakfast with my parents and then i went to the gym for a bit. then i got a cake delivered to me. it was amazing, by the way."
"really?" y/n smiled. "i'm sorry it wasn't homemade this year. i'm ashamed to admit that i briefly forgot about your birthday and i didn't have enough time to bake you a cake. but i can make up for it if you want."
"look, it doesn't matter to me whether it was homemade or store bought. all i care about is the company that comes with it each year." quinn smiled. "also, thank you for stopping by today. i thought everyone forgot my birthday."
"but quinn, i did forget."
"you remembered eventually. that's all that matters to me. things like that stand out and i appreciate it. more than you think." he sighed. "other than my parents, you're the only one who remembered. so, thank you."
"you're welcome. and i promise i'll make up for almost missing your 25th birthday."
"you don't have to. you're here now. and honestly, your company is the only thing i wanted this year."
"wait, really?"
"yeah. it's the one thing i look forward to for every birthday, no matter how brief it is."
"are you serious?"
"yes. very serious." quinn hesitantly reached for y/n's hand and when she didn't yank it away, he slowly intertwined his fingers with hers. "i'm not sure if you can tell but i like you. i've liked you since the first second i saw you move in across the hall. but unfortunately, i can't do anything about this."
"and why not?" y/n was confused. she liked quinn and it was becoming evident he liked her too. but she didn't understand why nothing could happen.
"you're brock's little sister. it wouldn't be right. it just-"
quinn was unable to finish his sentence. he was pulled forward and y/n's lips were placed on his, softly.
"what was that for?" he asked when y/n pulled away from the kiss.
"your birthday present, dummy." y/n smiled. "and because i like you, quinn."
"you....you do?"
"yes. i don't bake a cake for anyone else's birthday, you know."
"but what about brock?" quinn looked all over her face.
"i'm 24 years old, quinn. brock can't tell me who i can and can't have feelings for." y/n smiled and leaned closer. "besides, i think he actually wants us to be together."
"what makes you say that?"
"he kept encouraging me to come over here to see you. even gave me the plate so i'd have a reason to come over here." she glanced at quinn. "not that i didn't already have a really good reason to come and see you tonight anyway."
"i'm really glad you came over tonight. and kissed me." quinn smirked. "god, i sound like a freaking teenager when he gets his very first girlfriend."
"it's cute." y/n smiled and looked at where her leg touched his. "i think i know the answer to this, but are you enjoying your birthday?"
"i really am." he couldn't help the smile that came upon his face. "i'm still trying to get over the initial shock of you liking me back."
"it's the same for me. guess we can figure it out together, huh?"
"yeah. i guess we can." quinn held her hand and looked at her fingers. "is every part of you just perfect?"
"yes. i do believe every part of me is perfect. perfect in my own special way."
quinn chuckled at the girl he oh so admired. "would it be alright if i kissed you?"
"quinn, you know you don't have to ask." y/n smiled and gave quinn what he wanted. really, what they both wanted.
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evertidings · 7 months ago
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— MARCH 2024.
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accomplishments.
erm. hi. it's been a while, i know. i skipped last month's update, so i'll give you a lengthy one for march. truth be told, i haven't been able to touch when twilight strikes for a while. this is not because i don't want to, but mostly because i've been busy with school and/or have been struggling with writer's block. because of this, i made the decision to scrap what i had written for chapter eleven and start (kinda) from scratch. now, before you go and panic, let me explain.
the reason i've been taking so long on this chapter is that, well, i screwed up. i found a (rather large) plot hole that i've been trying to fix, and the solution i came up with was, uh, interesting. definitely not my greatest idea. but because i had already written so much, i kept pushing forward, hoping that things would straighten out and i'd miraculously like the chapter by the time i finished. haha, very funny. as you can tell, that didn't end up happening. i didn't particularly hate what i wrote, i could just tell that it was absolute bullshit. and while sometimes that works, it just was not doing it for me here. so i cut it.
i was able, however, to save a bunch of it for the new draft, so i didn't completely start over, but i am definitely down a lot of words compared to what i had written initially. i'm not super bummed out about it, but i am upset that that means i'm again behind on getting this out to you. i know it's been a while since i've published any updates and hearing that i've pushed things back is probably not very fun, but i promise, now that i've got my plot hole sorted out, things are going much smoother.
i'm currently in the thick of final exams so i haven't been able to write as much as i've wanted to lately, but the good news is that i'm graduating (WOOOOO!) so i won't have any more school work to distract me anymore. once mid-april hits, i'm free everybody.
(on that note, thank you for being so patient and sticking by me. i see new fans joining every day and it warms my heart that so many of you continue to enjoy this story. i appreciate you so much more than you know).
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missmonsters2 · 1 year ago
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Mirror, Mirror | Two
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Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.
PART ONE
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Wanda oscillates between crying and being overcome with confidence to confess. She barely has time to reflect when the devastating news arrives that you have a date, and Wanda needs to formulate a plan—quickly.
Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.
*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*
Note: cue the shenanigans of date stalking and taylor swift. Put your hands together for the real MVP of this chapter: Yelena.
Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3
Count: ~4.5k
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This week's philosophical question is: Is it gay to think about your best friend?
The short answer is no. The long, complicated answer is that it might be. 
There's logic and reasoning behind this because don't most people think about their best friend? Don't most people plan to have their best friend in the future? If not, then why would they be best friends in the first place?
Sadly, there's a rude awakening in Wanda's wobbly defense. Natasha is the only person to blame for blowing down her defense made of straw when Wanda chats with her on the phone in the evening while you're out for a photoshoot. 
"How's Maria doing?" Wanda asks.
"Good," Natasha answers, and Wanda can hear the tap water running and realizes the redhead is doing the dishes. "She'll be coming to visit during Christmas."
"Oh, you must be very excited!" Wanda beams. If it were her, she'd be ecstatic to be seeing you after so long. 
"Yeah, it'll be good to see her. I think she's bringing her girlfriend, Sharon. They've been seeing each other for a few months, and she doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with since her grand-aunt passed away.
"Oh," Wanda's voice is low, brows furrowing. "That seems very fast if she's coming to spend a holiday with Maria. How do you feel about it?"
Natasha hums. "Happy, I guess? I haven't met Sharon, but I've been hearing good things about her. She's able to keep up with Maria's busy life as she's got her own, but they make time for each other."
"But what if Sharon's wrong for Maria, or Maria ends up getting hurt."
"Then I'll break Sharon's legs, but Maria's a big girl. I'll be there for her, but she'll be okay," Natasha chuckles.
"But—"
"Wanda, what's with the questions about Maria?" Natasha cuts off. "Is it something with Bug? Are you worried about Raye? She's told me they haven't even gone on a first date yet; why are you so worried?"
"It's not about that!" Wanda said defensively. "I mean—I am worried, but I just don't want her getting hurt. She's my best friend; she deserves someone perfect. Don't you want someone perfect for Maria?"
Even as the words came out of Wanda's mouth, she grimaced because she was nowhere near perfect herself. 
"Of course I do," Natasha sighs. "But unless Maria is hurting, I'm not going to get overly involved with her love life. She'll go at her own pace and update me as she goes."
"But how will you know if Maria is going to continue living away? If she gets serious with Sharon, will Maria still plan to move back here? How will you guys plan on having a wedding at the same time and picking a house in the same neighborhood?" Wanda asks seriously. Her tone is distraught because it feels like Natasha doesn't care about her best friend at all! 
There's a moment of silence on the other line before Natasha says, "We don't plan for that. I mean, I'll be bummed for sure if Maria doesn't move back but we'll always be best friends. We'll visit each other and keep in contact as often as we need, but we don't need to physically be in the same place."
And another realization slides into place. 
"How are you guys best friends?!" Wanda yells into the phone before she hangs up without another word. 
Wanda knows that she'll have to call Natasha later and apologize and say she's on her period or something, but right now, with her eyes hot and wet, she digs her face into her pillow and cries instead.
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"Hey, I need to head out for another shoot today. Do you want me to pick up anything for you?"
Your voice muffles through Wanda's closed door. You've come in a few times, but Wanda had stayed in bed and pretended that she might've been under the weather. 
"No," Wanda says loud enough so you can hear it. "Have fun, though."
"I'll be home soon and make you some paprikash, but there's some chicken soup in the fridge for you if you want some while I'm gone," you reply. Wanda momentarily hears your hand land on the doorknob, but you don't turn it and come in. "Feel better, brat."
You don't wait for Wanda's response even though it is a quiet, "Thanks, stinky."
Alone in the apartment once more, Wanda sighs. She's been all over the place emotionally since she last talked to Natasha on the phone. She later sent a voice memo through text apologizing and said her period just came, which explained all the craziness. Luckily, Natasha was kind enough to leave it be, but they haven't chatted much since then—mostly on Wanda's end. 
Wanda's been caught between wanting to spend more time with you and distancing herself while sorting through her feelings. It was so easy at that moment to leave Vision and feel intense jealousy of Raye, but now in their own little bubble, everything was unraveling like a poorly wrapped present. 
The only saving grace was that you and Raye couldn't align your schedules to go on a date anytime soon. Raye was out of state currently and was supposed to be traveling for work for the next few weeks, and you were confirming projects that were supposed to be for the entire month. 
The extra time was sorely appreciated. 
In short, Wanda has cried 8 times in the last week while equally getting the inspiration almost to confess 7 times. 
There was a nagging fear, though. What if you didn't feel the same? What if Wanda was reading this one gigantic sign wrong, and you simply just liked brunettes with green eyes?
Or, what if you did feel the same and things didn't work out? What if the two of you date, and it goes wonderfully well before it ends? It doesn't matter what causes the end; just what if it did?
In either scenario, things would never be the same, and Wanda would lose her best friend of 10 years. 
Although, Wanda reasons that even if she confessed and you didn't feel the same, she wouldn't actually lose you. Sure, things would never be quite the same, but the friendship would continue. They've endured much worse, and Wanda would probably get over her feelings. 
Probably. 
Because if she didn't, well, Wanda wouldn't know what to do. She's lived too long of her life with you; she can't think of what it'd be like without you. Logically, she knew she'd survive, but there'd always be a part of her missing. 
Sometimes, Wanda thinks there was always a part of her missing until the day she met you. She can still remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday.
"Wanda, it'll be fine," Pietro's accent was thick and heavy, and Wanda refused to say anything out loud to acknowledge it. 
The girls in her class were already making fun of her accent, and her attempts to talk to them were rebuffed with looks as if they couldn't believe she dared to speak to them. 
It was too difficult, Wanda thought. It was too difficult to make friends when she transferred here mid-year, and everyone had already formed their cliques since elementary.
It was hard enough with the growing changes in her 14-year-old body, and she already felt awkward all the time—the giggling behind her back and to her face wasn't helping. 
Wanda wanted to go back home to Sokovia, except there was nothing left to return to. The war had reduced everything to shambles, and everyone else in her family was happy to have been able to seek refuge in America—Rochester, specifically. 
Wanda knew she should be grateful, especially since many of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and other extended family couldn't escape. She never really had too many friends, but the few she did went to Canada, and she knew she'd unlikely ever talk to them again. 
It was a lot of change, and Pietro was the only person who understood her at this new school, but even he couldn't do much since they shared no classes together. Plus, Pietro had still managed to make a friend, and Wanda didn't have the heart to make him sit with her at lunch every day. 
"Do you want me to eat lunch with you? I can ask Sam to sit with us," Pietro offered, but Wanda shook her head. 
"Are you sure?" Pietro asked again, preparing to sit with Wanda anyway, but Wanda shook her head.
"No, it's fine. I'm just going to eat my lunch quick and head to the library to catch up on some assignments," Wanda mumbled quietly, waiting for some girls in her class to pass by before she said it. 
"Okay," Pietro said, sighing since he was conflicted about staying with his sister or heading off to hang out with his friend. But at Wanda's insistence, he merely told her where she could find him if there was anything and took off with one last glance.
When Pietro was fully out of sight, Wanda took a seat alone at an empty table, pulling out her lunch reluctantly. She was quick to notice that the American kids typically brought a plain sandwich or bought food from the cafeteria, which usually consisted of the same foods like pizza or mac and cheese. 
While the comments about the food she brought were also embarrassing, Wanda didn't have it in her to ask her mother to make something else. Money was tight, and asking to add other things to the grocery list just so she could fit in didn't seem worth it when it wouldn't do anything about the fact no one wanted to talk to her. 
So, Wanda pulled out the finomfőzelék with her breaded chicken breast. She still didn't open it and let her containers sit on the table. 
Wanda wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Maybe it was just this specific instance of sitting alone, or maybe it was the last week and a half of enduring this, but Wanda felt her eyes burn and water. She willed it with everything she had inside to not let it fall and took a deep breath. 
"Hi."
The sudden sound made Wanda's head snap up, eyes wide with surprise. You stood there, and Wanda sort of recognized you from her classes. She thought she shared all but one with you. You've never contributed to the bullying but never stopped it or talked to her, either. 
Wanda vaguely recalled you've been sick with a cold the last few days. Her eyes shifted to look behind you, and she could see your friends looking very confused and beckoning you to come back to their lunch table.
"Hi," Wanda quietly greeted you back, wincing at how the accent could even come out with one syllable. 
You sat down suddenly, clearing your throat. "Can I ask you something?"
"Okay," Wanda replied warily. 
"Do you practice witchcraft?"
The question stumped Wanda.
"What?" 
"Do you practice witchcraft?" You repeated, looking serious. 
"No," Wanda frowned, so perplexed that she couldn't even be upset about her accent. "I don't. Why would you think that?"
"Well, Hela has been spreading rumors that you're a witch from Sokovia, and that's why Mr. Coulson passed away suddenly when you came."
Then, it's suddenly so clear why no one has been talking to her. 
"But if you're not a witch cursing people to death, then that's cool," you said, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "I wanted to ask you that earlier but then I got sick for a few days. So, do you want to hang out with me?"
Wanda just stared at you, her heart racing because finally, finally, she was going to have a friend. "Yes," Wanda replied quickly, smiling. "That'd be...cool," she repeated your slang. 
"Cool," you smiled back before pointing at her food. "Noticed you bring different food every other day. Can I try some? I'll trade you some of my sandwich. Heads up, though, my mom has been experimenting with food. This week was Chinese food, so beef and broccoli might be between the bread."
Wanda smiled at the memory, the ends of it tapering off. You changed her life, and even when Hela made fun of you, you shut her up with a comment about how she stuffed her bra. It was devastating to a 14-year-old. 
After that, the two of you were inseparable. You still occasionally hung out with your group of friends, but you definitely drifted to spend time with Wanda. 
Wanda wonders if it was actually at that moment that she fell in love with you, but at 14, she didn't know how else to interpret it other than friendship. 
You and Wanda didn't meet Nat, Steve, Bucky, and all the others until high school when the other districts were poured into one school. Since then, so much has happened. 
Your parents divorced.
Wanda's mother passed away from cancer. 
You dated Sam very briefly, giving him your first kiss and then shortly breaking up with him after. 
You came out to her, scared, hesitant, and so happy when Wanda didn't care. 
Wanda started to date Vision.
Wanda wanted to go to NYU, and you happily went there with her. 
You confessed you had a crush on Natasha but didn't want to pursue it. 
Wanda's first break-up with Vision. 
You dated Jean Grey and cried when she left you for Scott. 
When you wanted to stay in New York City, Wanda decided to stay here too, rooting her career here with you. 
Wanda wonders if maybe actually she'd fallen in love with you several times over and over but didn't know how to interpret any of her strong feelings for you, categorizing them as friendship just as she did when she was 14.
"I'm home!" 
Wanda hears the apartment door close and the shuffling of you taking off your shoes. She looks at the time and realizes two hours have already passed. Deciding that she's wallowed enough, Wanda decides to get out of bed and leave her room, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.
When she enters the kitchen, Wanda finds you starting the process of making paprikash. It's something you've always done for her when she's sick, feeling down, or homesick. Yet, in this moment, something swells inside Wanda's chest, and she wants to burst out crying again.
"Oh, hey," you turn around and smile as you see her, and Wanda clears her throat and blinks the tears quickly away.
"Hey," Wanda smiles back as she makes her way towards you. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm feeling better."
You open your arms for her to dive into a tight hug. You smell like clean laundry and mint, and Wanda wants to bottle your smell. The tension in Wanda lately starts to drain from her body as you rub her back comfortingly. 
"Some paprikash never hurt nobody," you joke. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though, brat. Is it the break-up with Vis?"
"Huh?" Wanda's brows furrow. "No, not really. I haven't really thought about it."
"Homesickness?"
"Er," Wanda fiddles with the back of your shirt. "Kinda, I guess."
"Well, good thing Thanksgiving is in a few months. Your dad and brother are coming here this year, right?"
Wanda nods, brightening at the thought of seeing her family. "Yes, I hope papa and Tony don't get into it again this year."
"I think your dad gets a sick sense of joy of torturing the son of man responsible for all the weapons that destroyed Sokovia," you say dryly. "I think Tony's starting to catch on he's not serious, though."
Wanda chuckles, and you pat her shoulders before you pull away and take out a knife and chopping board. Watch sits on the bar stool, watching you cook, letting things fall into a comfortable silence. 
This was everything, Wanda thought.
Nothing could ruin this moment, and Wanda thought long and hard, building up the courage to say something about her feelings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she might start with something flirtatious, but Wanda would say it more sensually instead of the usual joking tone. 
"Oh!" You say without looking at Wanda, chopping the onion and garlic. "I forgot to tell you. Raye's flying back in a few days before heading out again, and we planned a date this weekend."
Everything is ruined, and Wanda can't tell if the onion or the devastating news is causing her eyes to water.
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"Why did you bring me here?" Yelena hisses.
"Because I can't bring Natasha!" Wanda hisses back. "And be quiet or else they're going to hear us!"
"Why not Natasha? She's your other closest friend," Yelena says, quieter as she grumbles. "You're making me miss movie night with Kate. We're supposed to watch Insidious and you're ruining my chances of making fun of her being scared."
"Because," Wanda exasperatedly says. "I've already had a meltdown with Natasha, and she's going to make all sorts of comments if she knows I'm doing this now. I can't be here alone since this is the type of restaurant only couples go to."
"You think I won't make comments?" Yelena raises her brow at Wanda, looking frighteningly similar to Natasha at that moment. "I thought you grew out of stalking Bug's dates in university."
Wanda doesn't reply, too busy staring at your table. Raye is making some kind of flirty comment, reaching across the table and lacing your fingers through hers. You're laughing—Wanda can tell with how your shoulders shake. 
The restaurant you've chosen to take Raye to is a slightly upscale steak restaurant. You've ordered cocktails, a bottle of wine, and two appetizers to start. 
Raye's biting her bottom lip suggestively before she takes a sip of her wine, her index finger is stroking the back of your hand, and Wanda's wondering if she can bribe a waiter to spill a glass of beer on Raye accidentally. 
"Seriously, I know you're best friends, but this is out of hand. Just confess before Raye steals your girl and they get married."
Wanda whips her head back towards Yelena, eyes filled with indignation. 
"THEY WOULD NEVER—"
"SHHH," Yelena hisses, and they both have to hide behind their menus when you turn around and look. "Jesus Christ, Maximoff."
"They would never get married," Wanda huffs before peeking outside her menu to see that you've returned to your conversation with Raye. But then she turns back to Yelena. "You know about my feelings? Did you always know? Did you—"
"Shut up," Yelena groans. "No, I was just fishing, and you're the sucker I caught. I mean, was there a time I thought you guys were too close? Yes, but it eventually became normal."
The two of them put their menu's down when it's safe, and Yelena seems to be carefully planning how to explain her thoughts. 
"We've all accepted that you guys are very close, but you both kept dating different people—you specifically only dating boys and then Vision. It worked out that we were all going to NYU, but did you know that Bug had an offer to study abroad and do an internship that would've accelerated her graduation and then career?" Yelena carefully looks at Wanda's face.
"What?" Wanda frowns. She vaguely remembers you mentioning the program but recalled you dismissing it. You didn't tell her you were offered a spot in the program. "No, but I mean, she was building her online platform, and it was taking off. She didn't need to do an internship."
"No," Yelena agreed with a shrug, "but it wouldn't have hurt. I suspect she couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for a year. Just like how you turned down the job offer in LA at graduation when you knew she would stay in NYC."
"That wasn't—I just—" Wanda huffs. "I like where I am now. My work is flexible." 
"Yeah, but being in public relations, you could've been making twice the amount you are now," Yelena raises her brow again. "Although, at this point, I suspect you both chose adaptable careers in case one of you wanted to move to another city."
"That's not true," Wanda protests.
"Do you even like being a PR?" Yelena asks. "At least Bug loves photography. You, on the other hand, have a talent for PR, but it'd be just as easy for you to do anything else."
"I do like it," Wanda stresses. "It's easy, and the clients I've got keep me busy enough. Just because I don't spend all my time on it or talk about it doesn't mean I don't like it."
"But—"
"Enough talking, our food is coming, and you better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Wanda cuts Yelena off as the waiter arrives and sets their food down. 
"Worst. Date. Ever," Yelena deadpans.
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As it turns out, Raye lives relatively close to the restaurant as you walk hand-in-hand back to her place.
And not too far behind, Wanda and a reluctant Yelena trail from a distance. 
"She's not going to Raye's house, is she?" Wanda whispers with a frown.
"Why not?" Yelena grunts, adjusting her leather jacket. "She has casual flings all the time, and by the looks of their date earlier, it went very well."
"Not. Helping," Wanda glares at Yelena. They enter a street filled with apartments, and Wanda is careful about not following too close and walking under the streetlights.
"This is psychotic," Yelena groans. "Can't we go home? I feel like a literal serial killer out here."
Wanda doesn't respond, just staring ahead as they continue to walk. You're swinging your hand back and forth, interlaced with Raye's. There's giggling, and Raye keeps leaning closer to say something to you. 
There's so much sexual tension that it's palpable from here, and Wanda wishes there was a serial killer out here. 
How was Wanda going to stop this? How was Wanda going to prevent you from going home with someone else?
Wanda picks up a small rock and chucks it hard toward your general direction, hoping to spook the two of you apart. Except, her aim is so terrible that it flies completely left and hits the car beside you instead.
The car alarm goes off, setting off flashing lights and a very, very loud beeping noise.
"Wanda, what the fuck—" Yelena is cut off when Wanda suddenly shoves her down into a bush and dives next to her. "Ow, you fucking—" Wanda slaps her hand over Yelena's mouth.
You and Raye look behind, completely perplexed, when no one is there. You try to check out the vehicle, but other than a small dent, nothing is wrong with the car otherwise. Since neither you nor Raye caused it, you continued walking.
It turns out Raye lived in the building just a few steps ahead. You both stand at the door, holding hands before Raye throws her arms around your neck, smirking. 
Wanda's about to pick up another rock when Raye moves in suddenly for a hot, searing kiss.
And when Wanda watches you kiss back, her hand goes slack. Something awful builds in the pit of her stomach, and there's nothing Wanda can do when she watches you go into the apartment. 
Yelena watches Wanda's crestfallen face and sighs. "Wanda—"
"Let's just get back to the car and go home," Wanda mutters as she stands up, not bothering to brush off the dirt, leaves, or twigs from her hair. 
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The car ride home is sickeningly pathetic—a new low for Wanda. 
"PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOUUUU—" Wanda hoarsely cries out, tears streaming down her face. She's off-tune, and she's screaming more than she is singing. 
"Oh, god," Yelena sighs, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment in the passenger seat. They've stopped at a red light, and the car beside them is staring at them strangely. "This is sad for even you, Maximoff."
Wanda doesn't even acknowledge that she heard Yelena, only belting out, "I'LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"
"Just kill me, just kill me, just crash this car and kill us both," Yelena mutters to herself. 
The house is dark when Wanda returns, not that it should be any surprise. Deep down, though, Wanda hoped you'd return home and somehow beat her to it. 
Wanda's eyes feel tired and raw from crying the entire way home. Yelena gave her a reluctant hug, mustering all her kindness into rubbing Wanda's back and kissing the crown of her head when it was buried in her friend's shoulder. 
Pulling out her phone, Wanda looks at her texts. One from work, a couple of Natasha, one from Vis, and one from Pietro. She stares at your name in her messages, but nothing comes even if she wills it. 
Instead, she shoots you a quick "hey :)" and puts her phone away. You'd unlikely answer, but Wanda couldn't help herself. 
Sighing, Wanda gets ready for the night, trying to not let her mind drift on what activities you and Raye could be doing.
Please let it be scrabble, please let it be scrabble, Wanda thinks as she finishes brushing her teeth. 
As she walks towards her room, she pauses. It's unlikely you'd return until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. Biting her lip, Wanda turns and walks into your room instead, crawling into your bed under the sheets. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, inhaling your scent slowly.
It both comforts her and makes her heart twinge. 
After an hour, sleep falls upon Wanda easily, and she's nearly in a deep sleep when the lights suddenly turn on, and a yelp is heard.
Wanda wakes up suddenly, shooting up with her heart pounding that it's a robber, but it's just you standing at the door with your hand over your heart and chest heaving. 
"Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" You scold Wanda. "I totally thought you were my sleep paralysis demon!"
Wanda rolls her eyes at the comment but frowns as you calm yourself and rummage through your closet for sleeping clothes. "What are you doing at home? I thought you were going to sleep over at Raye's."
"She got a call in the middle of everything. It was her sister or something having some kind of meltdown. Raye says her sister can be dramatic, and it happens once a month, but she couldn't really hang up. I got sleepy waiting, but I didn't wanna crash there to just sleep on a first date," you answer. 
"I'm sure you would've gotten some in the morning," Wanda mutters.
"I guess, but feels weird since it'd definitely be rushed," you take off your jacket and socks before heading to the bathroom. "It's fine, we'll probably reschedule for another date." 
"Perfect," Wanda sighs as she starts to get up. 
"Stay there, brat," you tell her as you stand at the door. "If you're gonna sleep in my bed, you better commit to the sleepover."
Wanda sticks her tongue out at you, which you return before you leave.
Tapping her fingers against the sheets, Wanda smiles. Maybe the night wasn't so hopeless after all. 
PART THREE
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eroscomet · 1 month ago
Text
Make it Right
Chapter two- Hauting for Home
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Paring: Astrid Deetz x Fem!Ghost!Reader
Warnings: Mentions death, a bit angsty, bad writing. (Let me know if I missed anything!)
Word count: 3k+
A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm so sorry that this chapter took a while to make. I was busy on the weekend; however, I found time to finally finish the chapter for you all! I really do hope you guys enjoy this one! I will try to get a specific schedule for updates on certain stories. If you guys are wondering about updates for 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours,' I will try to update that as soon as possible. I will also be doing a couple drabbles on different characters and or drabbles of characters I've already written for. I would also like to thank you guys so much for all the support you all have been showing me! I am so thankful and grateful for each and every one of you! Thank you so much for every like, reblog, and comment, it means a lot to me!
╰┈➤Series Masterlist
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"You talked to my dad?!" Astrid had exclaimed with an amused smile on her face. There it was, that twinkle in her eye that you had missed so much. She hadn't been very happy recently, with you not around and everything else in her life that had been happening.
"Yeah, when I had first died. I got sent to the immigration office, and what do you know? There he was behind the glass. He's just as kind as you always told me he'd be. Surprisingly, he immediately recognized me. He told me that he had been watching after you and practically watched our love 'blossom,' as he put it." The two of you continued walking outside.
You couldn't help but think about how people must be seeing this. Astrid looked as if she were talking to herself from an outside perspective. Aware of her past, you knew people had a tendency to bully her, so when nearing Miss Shannon's School for Girls, you tried to get her to talk as much so that others wouldn't look at her funny. So, you took up most of the time on the way there, talking as much as she could so that she didn't have time to talk. Which was odd because she was usually the one who'd talk while you'd listen.
"He said he liked me, which is a relief. Sometimes, I feel like your mom is more confused but is trying to be supportive. I mean, remember when I had first come over, and she started talking about how she too 'experimented' as she said. Anyway, that isn't the point. I met your dad, and we actually frequently visited you together. It's funny, sometimes we'd bond over how much we missed you."
Astrid's eyes had furrowed as she had begun to notice that every time she began or wanted to speak, you only spoke faster, almost sputtering out information. A frown tugged at your lips as she had caught on.
"I just don't want people to look at you even more weirder than they already do. If you're talking to yourself, they'll find that an easy target. Try...putting on some headphones and pretending you're on the phone? Or you can just put your phone up to your ear?"
She smiled as she took her phone out of her pocket and brought it up to her ear.
"Thanks, you're right. So, what else did he say about me? Did you see my grandfather? What's the afterlife like?" Astrid felt like she had a million different questions to ask.
"Your dad says he's proud of you and that he sees himself in you all the time. As for your grandpa, no. I mean, I feel as if it's harder to find him since he did lose his head to a shark. The afterlife is a bit weird. I can't tell you much about it since I haven't exactly crossed over. I basically only know what headquarters and a few shops look like. I mean, there's a 'Soul Train' which essentially takes you to the 'Great Beyond,' but I never went because I don't want to risk not being able to watch over you."
You grabbed Astid's shoulders, moving beside her to walk toward the street end of the sidewalk. Even though you were dead, the sidewalk rule never really left you, even while Astrid couldn't even see you.
"Yeah, I figured. I almost can't believe that a shark bite ended his life, I knew my family wasn't normal, but we can't even have a somewhat normal death? The Great Beyond, huh? Soul Train is a clever name though. Does no one know what's on the side?"
"I mean, I've never seen someone leave then come back from the train in the full year, almost two years that I've been here. I'm not taking the risk and crossing anyway, I can't lose you again after we just got back to each other."
"You're right..." Her eyebrows furrowed, her attention on the sidewalk as they continued to walk. She thought to herself for a moment before speaking again.
"So, you don't have any ghost tricks you learned?"
"Of course, you'd ask that, would you be disappointed in me if I said I didn't?"
"I mean, you've been gone for a year almost two, I'd expect you to know at least something to make me feel better for all the time you've been gone."
"Okay, uhhh... I can walk through walls and, I guess, float a bit."
"That sounds like every other ghost."
"Just because i'm a ghost doesn't mean I have super powers, Astrid."
"Just saying."
"I mean, I do have this nasty scar from the accident." You lowered your shirt neckline, showing the scar on the lower part of your neck. Astrid winced at the scar before looking away.
"Right. Weird how all it took was one neck twist for you to die.
"Well, it's more like my neck twisted as if I was a cartoon character that got punched, and my head began spinning-"
"Ew, shut up. Don't talk about it like it's something light."
"I'm sorry, you're right."
It was silent for a bit as you guys walked into the school, Astrid opened one of the doors while you phased right through the other door. Astird put her phone back into her pocket as she walked upstairs and past the other students. You followed after her, your eyebrows furrowing at the other students nearby her dorm. Some of them whispering to each other while giggling.
That's when Astrid opened her dorm room's door, a bedsheet attached to the ceiling by a rope coming straight towards her. The bedsheet makes out a ghost with a 'Boo' sign in its chest area. Astrid stumbled back before turning around and looking at the other girls, who began to burst out into laughter behind her.
"When you're all driving carpool and banging your pilates instructor to fill the empty voids in your life, we'll see who gets the last laugh."
The girls smiles and laughs quickly died as she finished speaking. Astrid turned around as she went into her room, shutting the door behind her. You smiled proudly, a laugh escaping you as you saw the looks on the girls faces as they disburst from Astrid's door.
"Witty as always." You said as you phased through her dorm room's door. The make-shift ghost on the ceiling startling you a bit as you had almost 'ran' into it. Sometimes you forget you're a ghost even if it's been a year.
"They have not toned down with the comments? You had always been careful about this topic, not wanting to bring it up too much with Astrid.
"No." It was a simple and straightforward answer that made you not want to question further. A part of you felt angry that you were helpless to all of it now that you're dead. You had gotten so used to defending her against everyone but now your words would only fall on deaf ears.
You sighed as you plopped yourself onto her dorm room's bed, thinkiing for a moment on how to steer away the conversation of bullying that she obviously did not want to talk about.
"Did you hear that my sister's pregnant? I know that I shouldn't bother looking over them since they're perfectly fine.."
"I'm not surprised."
"She's naming the baby after me."
"God, that's ridiculous! Naming their kid after a relative who isn't even dead yet-" Astrid's voice faltered for a moment. The fact that you were dead and have been for almost two years was still a punch in the gut after all this time.
"That's what I said, baby." You offered her a small smile as you played into the bit that you were still alive for Astrid. She still wanted to make her at least feel a bit better.
'Baby.'
Your words - and your smile, even if it was for her benefit - just made Astrid's heart twist further in her chest.
"You're killing me here."
"Why?" Your head tilted to the side as you looked at her.
"Because you're supposed to be dead." Her voice came out in a strangled whisper as she looked down at the papers scattered on her desk.
You bit your lip, you didn't want to show that what Astrid had said hurt you. Even if you were dead, you still had emotions and feelings. You paused for a moment before deciding to drop the topic.
"So, they're having a baby shower. You should go."
"Oh god, a baby shower? Is it too late to make you disappear again?" Her face had immediately scrunched up with distaste at the idea of being forced to go to a baby shower - especially your self-centered sister's baby shower where she'd name her child after you for her own gain.
"Come on, you couldn't see me for a whole year, and now that you're finally able to, you already want to get rid of me? That's cold, babe, even for you. Even for me who's dead cold. Get it? Huh? Dead cold. Because i'm dead? And i'm cold now because I have no blood. No? Okay."
"Oof, that was horrible." She said as she shook her head and grumbled in response.
"Come on, admit you missed me. I heard all your late-night talks that you thought weren't reaching my ears."
"I did miss you - I've missed you for a whole year." She confessed, sounding a bit surprised by her own confession. The room fell silent, the weight of everything that had happened falling onto the both of them. Neither of them wanted to address it, though, they didn't want to have to deal with it now.
"Did you ever-" She paused for a moment as she thought of the right words to say, "When I'd lay in your bed and mope, were you just...watching me?"
"No, I hated that. I'd still do what I would've done if I were alive. I tried holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear that never got to you."
"Sweet nothings, huh?" She teased, which earned an eye roll from you. Again, the room had fell silent as the two were lost in thought before Astrid spoke again, breaking the silence.
"How bad did it hurt?"
"Uh.. Well... I just remember being on the ground one second, then in the air the next. I landed, and well- You know what. It had hurt for that second that I was alive, but it had been an instant death if anything."
Having to talk about your death wasn't an easy topic. It was a reminder of how quick you had lost it all. The blood in your system, the beat of your heart, Astrid. The sight of you nervously fidgeting with your own fingers made Astrid's heart ache.
"I hate that." She muttered, her voice coming in strained, almost as if she was forcing herself to get the words out.
"I'm sorry." Your words were mumbled as she continued to fidget with your fingers, now more anxiously than before. The apology caused Astrid to shut her eyes, trying to hold herself together. She felt that now was not the time to start breaking down.
"Don't. Don't apologize." She had almost snapped at you as she opened her eyes to shoot a glare at you.
"Okay." You were never one to go against her word, you didn't want to start a fight. Especially not now. All you could do was bring up one of your hands, beginning to gently pull on the hairs on the back of your neck as you avoided Astrid's eyes.
"Is that a nervous habit of yours now? Pulling your hair." She asked as she reached her hand out idly to brush your hair out of your eyes.
"I had gotten it when I first reached the afterlife. When you watch the people you love hurting, and all you can do is ghost around them..." Your voice had faltered, forcing yourself to clear your throat and then begin to speak again.
"You feel so helpless. Watching everyone who used to be around you and love you so miserable about your death. It makes you feel guilty but, most of all, useless. There's no way to hold, touch, talk to, comfort them... It's hard."
The room had fallen silent after your words. Astrid's fingertips gently brushed along the back of your head - tracing the place that you usually pulled at. She let her hand rest there, trying to keep you from pulling at your hair again.
"How cold am I?"
Your words made Astrid pause for a moment. Leaning closer to you as she wrapped an arm around her now ghost girlfriend. The chill of your skin made her shiver involuntarily - but Astrid tried not to show the way her body automatically wanted to shy away from the cold.
"Really damn cold. It's like you're an ice cube almost." Her words a mumble as she got closer to you, laying next to you as she rested her head on top of yours.
"I'm sorry that I'm not warm anymore." Your own words come out as a mumble as well, instinctively, your head rests on her shoulder.
"I know you don't much like when it's really cold. I thought I was keeping myself with this sweater but now that someone's actually able to touch me, I realize it's doing nothing for me."
"Gosh, you don't have to apologize for that. At least you're here." She pulled you closer against her, her arms wrapping around your waist - burtying her face into your shoulder, even if your skin was freezing and caused a slight burn against her own warm skin. She ignored the way that her body had involutarily shivered at the contact - focusing instead on the fact that her girlfriend was here.
"Barely." You mumbled quietly as you gently pulled away from your girlfriend, knowing that you were probably burning Astrid's skin with your own cold, dead skin that was now a pale blue hue.
"Don't be like that. You're talking as if you have no more hope."
"Death has a way of doing that."
Astrid let out a quiet huff at your words. Her eyes flickered back and forth from you and her own hands that were now gripped tightly on her bedding - but in the next moment, she let go. Almost as if with a full burst of speed, she darted to you. Her arms wrapping around your body, hauling you into her bed in a tight, crushing embrace.
"Astrid-" You had said in surprise and protest. You knew that you were cold. Dead. The cold would burn Astrid at one point, and you didn't want that. Not when you used to be alive and warm for her. You used to keep her warm and now you can only burn her with your icy dead skin.
"Don't even think about complaining. I don't care if you're cold." Astrid snapped as she held you impossibly close against her. Her body shivered once again as your cold skin was like a bucket of cold water dumped over her body - but she ignored the cold, focusing on the sensation of her girlfriend in her arms.
A frown had tugged at your lips, knowing that eventually, Astrid would get too cold, but after a year of being a lone ghost who watched your loved ones move on or suffer because of you, you couldn't help but be a little selfish. Your arms wrapped around her as tightly as you could.
You missed your girlfriend so much. Watching over her for a year, her suffering for a full year over your death, had done a number on you. You'd cry if you could, but all you felt was this deep internal sadness. You had no heartbeat, you had no blood to warm your body, you had no tears to shed from your dry eyes. Your chest was the most still it had ever been, you had no air to breathe anymore.
It had begun to feel like too much for the both of them. Being this close to each other after a year of thinking they'd never be able to have contact again, feeling each other's skin despite the feeling of a small burning on her own skin from your own. It was almost enough to make Astrid cry.
The cold was beginning to seep into her skin - making her shiver and leaving her skin prickled. But Astrid wouldn't - couldn't - let go of you. Not when it had been a year since she was able to hold you. You had only frowned as you held her tighter. A small hiss escaped Astrid from the cold contact as she tried to get herself impossibly closer to you.
"Damn it, it's getting too cold." She hissed, speaking between clenched teeth as she tried to bury her face into your shoulder further.
"Warm up with the blankets, I'll just lay beside you. I promise I won't disappear." You pulled away, gently moving Astrid off of yourself as you carefully pulled her bedsheets over her body. When you finished tucking her in, you lay beside her, admiring every detail you could land your eyes on.
She only huffed a bit, feeling oddly petulant about the fact that she had to let go of you However, she did as she was told. A small shiver rattled her body as her eyes locked onto yours. She managed to mumble something incohereently as she reached for you, trying to tug you close again.
"Too cold, baby. Just give it a moment. I'm here, you see me." You tried to reassure her as you gently tugged a strand of hair behind her ear.
'Baby.' The soft nickname only made her want to pull you close again, but she knew that you were right. Her boy was cold - skin still pricked and burned from being in contact with her girlfriend. She snuggled further into the bedding, her hand gently reaching out to yours. Linking her own pinky with yours, causing you to smile. Her eyes looked into yours as if asking if it was okay to which you had nodded.
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A/N: I don't know why this felt like such a short chapter to me despite it being the most words I've written so far?? I might have some filler chapters for this and 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours' sometimes. Then again, there is still a lot to write for the storyline themselves. Thank you, lovelies, for all the support on my posts! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm so sorry if some days I do not have time to update. Also, if there's anyone that wants to be tagged for updates on this story, leave a comment saying so! Bye, loves!
150 notes · View notes
libraryofgage · 11 months ago
Text
Harlequin Prince
Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)
I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol
Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl
If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!
And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)
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Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.
Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.
The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.
The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.
Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."
"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."
Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.
"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."
"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."
Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."
Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.
He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).
That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.
This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.
She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"
"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.
Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.
"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.
"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"
"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."
"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"
Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."
A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.
Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.
"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.
"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.
"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."
Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.
The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.
She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."
Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.
It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.
‐-----------------------------
Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.
That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."
After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."
Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.
When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.
"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"
Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."
Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"
In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?
"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.
It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.
"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.
They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.
A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.
Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.
The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."
What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."
Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.
Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.
After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.
"They usually don't fight at all."
Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.
Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.
He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"
With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.
"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.
"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."
Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.
"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."
"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."
The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"
"Gotham."
"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."
"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."
442 notes · View notes
yuyu1024 · 7 months ago
Text
Babe
Pairings: S.coups × y/n
Genre/tags: protective/possessive bf
Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 fluff but smut, unprotected sex, pet names, cursing, semi public, handjob
~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 3k
Disclaimers:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
A/N: looong time no post. ✨️I was away... got sick and mentally not doing okay... and I dont think im 100% okay yet...Its been hard but still trying my best :)
i might be coming back to writing here and there... but not consistent. Hopefully you understand...
meaning, i will be a 🐌 in updating nor posting and won't be online mostly. 🖤
(i cant promise i can jump back to the Yoongi/Suga series yet also sorry 😭 hopefully one day but not soon.)
Me writing... is depending if im okay.
Also, Thank you for the kind messages in DMs. I really do appreciate them...even tho i don't reply 🖤 pls know its very helpful.
Thank you.
P.S its been a long time since i wrote anything so.... rusty.🥲 this is my just trying to get back to it.
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Seungcheol, your boyfriend, texted you to meet him at school. Which surprised you the second you read it because it has been weeks since he went to school.
He has been doing special online classes these past weeks as he can't walk. Yet. He slipped while playing soccer with the boys two months ago causing an injury on his left leg. It was very painful to watch him yell in pain during that game. It was supposed to be just a fun game with his friends and you and their other friends watching but yeah, accidents happen.
"What are you doing here?" You gasp the second you enter the University clinic and saw your boyfriend sitting and chatting with the school doctor.
"Babe." He smiles and opens his arm, asking for a welcome hug
"Babe!" You squeal and immediately run and hugged him tightly.
"I missed you." He mumbles lightly lifting you off the floor even he's sitting on the clinic's bed.
He never lost his strength.
"Ditto." You say and kissed him on his cheek before letting go. "Wait... why are you here?" You ask again. "He can go back to school now?" You turn to ask the doctor behind you
"He can. But I still suggest no." He folds the folder his holding and sits down on his desk. "He can walk now with crutches easily yes... but... going up and down... walking building to building to classes...." doctor shakes his head
"I'm just here to visit, babe." Cheolie says caressing your back. "To report my health to him... to let know the team..."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry..." he press his lips together and giving you an apologetic look.
"I'll leave you two to talk... I have to go on a meeting now in the faculty. Just let the nurse know when you leave okay? So she can assist you with the wheel chair."
"Okay, doc. Thank you."
And as soon as the doctor leaves and shut the door close behind him, Seungcheol immediately grabs you by the waist, pull you close to his body and leans in to fully kiss you.
It feels rushed at the beginning but as soon as you find the perfect spot to lean your body weight to his, it felt smooth and just sensational. You even opened your mouth completely to let his tongue explore you.
You two haven't kissed for awhile. The rent is due.
"I missed you so much." He whisper as he pulls away to take a breather.
"This is the longest we've been away from each other..." you say as you straighten your stand
"Yeah... I got busy healing..."
"And I got busy at school... and at home..." you answer as you sit down beside him. "How are you feeling at the moment?"
"Good....well.. better now that I've kissed you." He smirks and plants a tiny kiss on your temple
"Babe..." you lean on his shoulder
"You know you always make me feel good..." he chuckles. "Also... Doc said my leg is healing pretty good..."
"That's good to hear..." you stand up once again. "So... can I--"
And before you could ask him another question about visiting him soon at home Seungcheol kisses you on your cheek and then on the back of your hand.
"Thank you for always calling me... every night... making sure to check on me... give me updates at school and being an understanding girlfriend. Even though you are tired yourself."
"I didn't do that much." You say holding his hand. "If only I could visit you personally I would..."
But you couldn't. It's not like he leaves far away from you. It's just that you wanted him to just rest. You know how he is when he sees you. He gets excited and acts everything is fine even though he is in pain.
He would probably force himself to get up when you visit him. It's kind og his thing to show off he is strong. Especially to you. He is your alpha lover.
"No...babe. just you calling has saved me from a lot of bad moods and not doing my therapies because... I'm not in the mood." He kisses your hand again.
"Well I'm glad... I could help..." you say smiling.
"And also..." he then bites his lower lip whilst smiling. You already know what he's about to say with those cheeky smirks.
"Hush..." you cover his mouth with your hand, scared that he might say it outloud and the nurse from behind the door might hear. "That's for us only..." you whisper.
He is referring to the video call sessions you do every now and then. To help him when he is... sad and horny.
"You promised... no one should know..."
"Of course..." he murmurs, his mouth is still covered by your hand. "The images are for my eyes to see and for my dick to feel only." He adds and then playfully licks your palm, making you jump a little.
"Hey!" You slap him on his shoulder
He is grinning so much. He is enjoying your reactions. "You're so adorable being shy..." he puts his arm around your waist, securing you between his legs. "My shy little fairy..." he mumbles just before he kisses you again.
You don't deny him of any sort of making out. Even at the clinic. Why woulf you? You missed him so bad too.
So bad that even his hands is skimming your body and even lifting your short A-Line skirt, exposing your bum, just to squeeze it is fine. Perfectly fine.
"Wait." He pauses and looks you in the eyes. "You are wearing a skirt this short... with no protective shorts under?"
"Hmm?" You look at him, confused for a second. "Oh."
He is yout alpha, yes. And one trait of him that is very dominant is him being protective of you. He does not like anyone hurting you, being mean to you and most especially drooling over you. You are his and only his.
"What you mean oh?" He raises a brow. "Well? Why aren't you wearing one?"
You don't have a good excuse. You just forgot. Well... you have been forgetting since he have been away.
"Y/N..."
"You're now calling me by name...." you move back away a little. "I'm sorry... I have no excuse..."
"What if some maniac sees you? When you go up stairs? Or the elevator in the media building? You know its glass right? They can see... what if wind blows and..." he sighs, frustrated. "You know how most guys are."
"I know... I'm really sorry." You pout. "I didn't purposely forget it..."
You see the change in his mood. He is very possessive of you so you know that just the idea of any guy looking at you because they find you cute or have interest of being close to you and whatever, he's already on guard.
He sighs again and also he's already grabbing his crutches.
"Leaving already?" You say in the softes tone.
"Yeah..." he stands up and calls on the nurse for assistance.
"Okay..." you lower your gaze.
You are not sure how to tame your boyfriend since this time you know you are at fault for forgetting and breaking a promise you told him after he was told to stay at home.
You stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Just... call me when you get home."
"I will not call you." He says as he sits down on the wheel chair. "You're coming home with me."
"Wait. What?" You ask
The nurse enters the room and greets the two of you.
"Ready to go home?" The nurse asks
"Yes." Seungcheol smiles at her. "I have a scheduled therapy this afternoon..."
"Oh... I see... goodluck then." She says as she helps to push your boyfriend
"Y/N..." he calls your name out again.
This is the second time he called you by name. He is clearly not okay with the skirt situation. This never happened before.
***
You both arrived at his parent's house. They welcomed you and hugged you even. They thanked you for being a support system for their son even though physically you can't come because, well, they know how their son acts around you.
It's not a secret that their son is so in love with you that he's very clingy and trying to act cool and such.
"I already made food for the two of you so just reheat it if you decide to eat later."
"Oh. Thank you Mrs. Choi." You say
"It's nothing dear... also... thank you for being his care taker for tonight... we will enjoy our night on out staycation at the city." His mother says
You are stunned to hear what Mrs. Choi just said. You can't react beside just smiling and nodding. "Ah... ahm... don't worry about us... I'm going to take good care of him."
"Thank you, again." Mr. Choi says.
"We'll get going now... see you tomorrow afternoon, dear." She says to her son who is sitting in the sofa drinking his cola.
"Have fun, Mom and Dad!" He waves at them
And as soon the door shuts and you hear the car engine from outside.
"What the fuck was that?" You stomp you way towards him. "Care taker... tonight?? Babe?"
Nonchalantly he answers. "You will be staying for the night here with me... until tomorrow..."
"Why?"
"Why not?" He looks at you with a coldest stare. "Do you have any other plans? Are you meeting with anyone?"
"No..."
"And then... stay...."
"But... my parents..."
"I already told them... they are fine with it."
"When?"
"I called them earlier... before I texted you to come to the clinic."
You are in complete shock. "Cheolie..." you whine
"Now, you're calling me by name?" He raises a brow. "Why are you acting like that? It's like you don't want to stay with me."
"That's not it."
"Then what?"
You sigh. You are lost for words.
Yes you should be happy you are spending time with your boyfriend but he could've told you. You would say yes if he asked or told you.
You are just stunned maybe or confused with him doing this too since he's been being snappy at you since earlier.
"Whatever." You mumble throwing your bag to the floor and just sitting down at the chair opposite of where he's sitting.
Now you are the one in the bad mood.
"I still have the clothes and undergarments you left from last time..." he then says in a much calmer tone.
"Okay." You answer not looking at him.
You are not mad at him. You are just not happy with what he did. He probably wanted to surprise you with the idea earlier but since it got ruined during your clinic make out session. Now things are...
"Babe." He calls you
You turn your head to look at him. He looks serene now.
"Can you please come here..." he says
You get up and make your way to him, to sit down beside him.
"Not there." He says holding on to your wrist and leading you to move somewhere else. "Here..." he gestures for you to sit on top of him.
"But... your leg..."
"I can manage..." he breathes and then tugs you down so he could kiss you, cupping your face with one hand.
Your hands are now on his chest for balance support. You tried pulling away from the kiss but
"Sit..." he says in between the kiss.
And you do as he says. Kneeling down on the sofa, legs spread between his thighs, you sit down on him and slowly put your arms around his neck.
"Cheolie..." your lips part ways as you spoke and he tries to chase the kiss again but you bite your lips together. "Wait..."
"Why...?" He pouts
"What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" He runs his hands from your legs to your thighs and then underneath your skirt.
"You were just so cold to me... not even talking to me like I'm your girlfriend... and now you're kissing me and touching me..."
He throws his head back for a second and then sighs. "Babe, I'm sorry.... I was... well..."
"I said I'm sorry about the skirt... Don't worry. I will just wear pants starting on monday...."
"You sure?"
"Yeah... I promise." You kiss the tip of his nose. "I will just wear skirts when I'm with you."
"Really?" He raises a brow with matching smirk, biting his lower lip.
"Yeah..." you move your hips forward knowing what this tiny move will do to him. "I know you like to have easy access with me when we're together..." you softly say
He grunts as he feel you move a bit more. Rocking your hips over his erection that's sort of protected by his black jogging pants.
"I know what you're doing..." he hums
"And I know you like... what I'm doing..."
His smile goes ear to ear. "You're lucky I can't stand on my own yet... If I could..."
"What will you do?"
"Carry you over my shoulders and spread you on top of my bed..."
"And...?" You put your forehead to his.
"And...fuck you 'till dawn..."
Just the thought made you horny and wanting him. But since he can't do what he usually does to you, you decide to handle this on your own.
"You can still fuck me..." you say, grinning. "We have all night till tomorrow to find a way... a position you want me to be in."
"Fucking hell, babe." He grunts, sounding excited and turned on.
You adjust your position, making sure you can access him easily. Him meaning his long veiny length that's already leaking.
"Shit! Ah!" His mouth drops the second you hold onto him. His eyebrows is showing how he's loving the way you stroke and pump him. "Babe..." he moans. "Babe... aaaaahhh..." he throws his head back, his hands on his hair, trying to hold on to reality coz he is floating in heaven right now.
"Should I... let the tip touch me?"
"Touch... you?" He looks at you, brows furrowed from the high.
You already removed your panties off without him noticing.
"Yes... like this...." you then adjust your position back on top of him and lowered yourself just enough for the tip of his dick feel your entrance.
"Babe, fuck!" He snarls throwing his head back. "Your so damn wet already..."
You let him feel the wetness for awhile before you ease him in you.
"Holy... shiiiiit!"
"Ngggeeeaaah..." you breathe in as you suck him in whole.
"You're doing great babe." He pushes the hair off your face. "Don't rush it... just... feel it... feel me..."
When he's completely in you, you didn't move. You just hugged your man and took a breather.
"I can't believe my little fairy is being so daring..."
"Because I want to give you what you want... what you need..." you mumble on his neck.
"Babe, you know I can wait till I'm healed and ready to fuck you..."
"I know..." you look him in his eyes, "but I miss it too..."
"You do?"
You nod. "Us video calling... while we... you know... is not enough... I thought it was enough... but when I saw you earlier... I really did missed you more than I can imagine."
"You miss my dick?" He tease
"Babe!" You hide your face on his neck again.
"Ugh..." he suddenly moans. "Wow. I didn't know you get tigher when I tease you."
Seungcheol starts to move his hips a little, to ease dipper into you.
"Ah..." you exhale shakily. "Cheolie...hmmm...."
"You like that?"
"I do."
Then you start to move yourself.
You leaned back a little, pushing forward and pulling backward in motion to meet his slow but deep thrusting.
"Cheolie..." you cry his name as you feel like reaching your climax.
"Just let it go..."
"Fuck!" You throw your head back, panting and shaking. "Come with me..." you say, "come....with me..." you clentch more down there, making him feel the tightness.
"But babe..." biting on his lips, hissing and trying to control himself. "We don't have condoms."
"I don't care." You lean in for a sloppy kiss. "Come with me. I need to see you... melt with me..."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Babe..."
"Please..." you beg, "I want to feel it..."
"Fuck it!" He snarls as he goes to squeeze your ass under your skirt as he picks up the pace with you
It's amazing how strong he is. Even with an injured leg he could lift his hips to meet yours.
"Aaah!!" You moan as loudly as you can as you felt something in you pop.
He growls as soon as feel his length starts to release and feel the warmth in you.
"Fuck babe..." he is panting. "Our first time you being on top..."
Embarassed after your orgasm, you hug your man and hide your face again. "I only did what I know and can..."
"You did amazing... your handjob is what I needed to get me into the a frenzy." Then he kisses the top of your head. "I fucking love you... whatever you do... makes me love you even more..."
"I love you too..." you go for a kiss again. But then burst into a giggle when you felt him move. "You are still in me... I can feel you."
A smile spread over his lips, "Maybe we should continue this on my bed. I can do other positions and pump more in you if you want."
You grin, blushing. "I'd love to."
217 notes · View notes
justagalwhowrites · 1 year ago
Note
So this may be awkward but I saw your dbf fic and thought what about best friend's dad? Obviously it would either have to be a no outbreak au where Sarah is in her 20s or several years after the show when Ellie is an adult. Maybe the oc is a few years older than Ellie or Sarah or whichever you choose. Maybe I just haven't read enough TLOU smut but this is one I haven't seen and I would love to read something like this!
OMG Hi bestie!
So THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH THIS??? You sent this in FOREVER ago but I've been so hung up on Lavender and Beskar Doll I just didn't get around to this.
Anyway, HERE'S THE ASK FINALLY! I hope you like it!
UPDATE A/N: This is now a full series (has been for a while but I just realized I never linked to the master list from here.) If you'd like to read more, you can find it here.
New in Town
When you move to Austin for work, your best friend Sarah recommends that you hang out with her dad, Joel, to get to know the area. Sarah just never mentioned the fact that her dad is just your type.
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Pairing: BFD!Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: SMUT! Fingering, oral (male receiving), protected P in V sex. Legal age gap (Reader is 35 Joel is 47.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only
Length: 5.6k (wtf is my problem)
You should have made Sarah text you a picture at the very least. 
The bar was starting to get busy and you’d realized about 15 minutes earlier that you had no fucking clue what your best friend’s dad looked like. 
“You’re sure it’s not weird that I hang out with your dad?” You asked Sarah the morning you left town. 
“It’s not weird,” she waved you off, her curls bouncing. “Promise. He’s not like… an old dad. He’s fun. You get along with me so you’ll get along with him. It’s at least something so you’re not stuck in Austin not knowing anybody.” 
“Yeah,” you nodded and then sighed, looking at your coffee. One last cup of the good stuff in Seattle before your flight in a few hours. 
There was a knot in your stomach at the thought of leaving, now that it was actually here. You’d been in Seattle for two years now after moving here for work. Sarah was the only other woman in your department - not to mention the only other person under 40. She might have been 10 years younger than you but the two of you had become fast friends. She’d been there for a year - she’d started fresh out of college - when you came aboard and was kind enough to let you in on the office politics. 
“So fucking glad to have another girl around here,” she said after you’d been there about two weeks, her arm looped through yours as you walked to a restaurant down the street from your office for lunch. “Lunch just isn’t as good with old dudes…” 
Making friends outside of the office was just as awkward as you remembered and it wasn’t long before you and Sarah were hanging out all the time outside of work, too. She was probably going to be the thing you missed most about Seattle. 
But the promise of a big promotion - setting up your own team at the new branch of your firm in Austin - was too good to pass up. 
“Hey,” she put her hand on your wrist from across the small table. “You’re going to kill it down there. Just remember to demand me when the time comes to add a junior copywriter.” 
“Well, simply no one else will do,” you smiled a little. She laughed. 
You finished your coffee and Sarah dropped you off at the airport - your office paying to ship all your things down - and you flew off to your new life in Texas. 
After a week of settling in, you finally caved and reached out to Sarah’s dad. She told you to just text him and you kind of hoped he wouldn’t respond. Once the ball was in his court, you’d be off the hook. If he never responded and you never met the guy, Sarah could hardly hold it against you. 
“Hi! Is this Joel Miller?” You texted originally, following it up with your name and - just in case Sarah hadn’t bothered to tell him you were going to be texting - some indication that you weren’t a total stranger. “I just moved to town and Sarah told me to text you.” 
“There,” you said to yourself, taking a sip of wine as you sat back on your couch. “Done. Not my problem any….” 
Your phone lit up on your coffee table and you groaned. Of course he texted back. Of course he texted back fucking immediately. 
“Hi,” he said. “Sarah mentioned you might text. Said you might need someone to show you around town. Want to grab a drink later this week?” 
You rapped your fingers against the globe of your glass, the wine lush and red. 
“Sure,” you said. “I don’t start work until next week, so just let me know when and where works for you and I’ll be there!” 
You made plans to meet up two days later. You’d showed up a few minutes early, wanting to get the lay of the land before you met a stranger in a bar. 
Joel, it seemed, was a bit late. You kept looking up at the door, waiting to see someone who looked something like Sarah walk in. But so far, there wasn’t anyone who fit the bill. A few guys who looked like they were UT students deciding to check out something further from campus, four guys who who definitely had just gotten off motorcycles, one man who was almost stupid hot and looked about 10 years too young to be Sarah’s dad and a guy about your age with a date. 
You glanced at your phone. 9:13. At what point did you call it? Maybe try to pick up the hot guy who seemed to be hovering on his own at the bar. You hadn’t gotten laid in a while and you’d at least done your hair and makeup, even if you hadn’t tried to look like you were looking for a hookup. 
Your phone screen hadn’t fully dimmed yet when it lit up bright, vibrating with Joel’s name on the caller ID. You sighed and answered. 
“Hello?” You pressed your free hand against your ear, trying to drown out the sound of the bar behind you, but it sounded noisy on his end, too. 
“Hi,” he said, a bit of a Texas twang in his voice. “Just wanted to make sure you were still plannin’ on comin’ out tonight…” 
“Yeah,” you laughed a little. “I was wondering the same about you, I’m here…” 
“Where?” He said. “Don’t see you…” 
You started looking around then, too, looking at every face at every table around you before you settled on… the stupid hot guy at the bar. 
Who looked too young to have a kid Sarah’s age. 
Who had a phone pressed to his ear. 
Who was now staring at you. 
You raised a hand and smiled awkwardly, giving him a small wave. 
He looked surprised for a moment before hanging up his phone, grabbing his beer from the bar, and heading for your table. 
“I’m so sorry,” he said, setting his drink down across from you and taking his seat. “I didn’t mean to keep you waitin’, I was just expecting someone Sarah’s age…” His eyes went wide for a second. “Not that you look old or anythin’, just… Not what I was expecting.” 
“Yeah, Sarah was the baby of the Seattle office,” you smiled a little. “She’s the best though. Thank God for her, I’d have been so bored there without her.” 
“Yeah,” he smiled and nodded. “She is the best.” 
Up close, Joel was still stupid hot. Uncomfortably hot. It was not fair how hot he was for him to be off limits because he was your best friend’s dad. His hair was dark and a little shaggy and you had to fight the urge to brush an unruly curl back from his brow. His eyes were the warmest brown with a light to them that made you want to just stare at him for a while. His crooked smile with one dimple, his slightly patchy beard, his unreasonably sculpted arms for a man who had to have at least a decade on you unless he was a teenager when Sarah was born. If you hadn’t met him this way, you’d be trying to get him home for at least a one night stand. But he was your best friend’s dad. Even if he made your core tighten and heat pool around your hips. 
It turned out, you and Joel had more in common than you’d expected. You liked the same music and he knew some good live music spots in town. You were both into hiking - and both agreed that the views in this part of the country would be kind of lacking compared to the Pacific Northwest. You both liked trying to find the spiciest food in town and eating it as a matter of principle. 
Of course, you hadn’t spent much time with men the age you THOUGHT Joel was going to be. Your only experience with men in their 50s was at work and that usually involved showing them how to save a word document as a PDF. You’d gone into this expecting to sit awkwardly with the guy for about an hour before going your separate ways. But you were pretty sure he was in his mid 40s, the same age as a lot of the guys you’d gone out with back in Seattle, and the more drinks you had the harder it was to remember that you weren’t on a date. You were hanging out with your best friend’s dad. She probably had to beg him to meet up with you, he probably had a girlfriend he’d much rather be spending time with on a Friday night instead of his daughter’s friend who was new in town. 
But he seemed happy enough to stay for hours. The two of you were laughing over a particularly bad movie you’d somehow both seen - Giant Spider Invasion - when the bar announced last call. 
“Shit,” Joel looked at his watch, clamping his hand over it after a second. “Didn’t realize how late it got. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take up your whole damn night…” 
“No, I’m sorry,” you waved him off, reaching for your phone for the first time in hours to try and order an Uber. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than entertain me.” 
“Not exactly,” he half smiled at you. That fucking dimple. “Don’t really got a thirvin’ social life. I get the feeling this arrangement was as much for me as it was you, knowin’ Sarah.” 
“She’s cunning, that one,” you said, putting in your destination address. You groaned. “Shit!”
“What?” Joel asked. 
“Surge pricing,” you sighed. “Come ON, it’s almost 2 a.m., it can’t be that busy…” 
“It’s homecomin’ weekend at the school,” he shrugged. “Everyone’s in town drinking.” 
“That’ll do it,” you sighed, bracing yourself to spend almost $100 on a car ride home. 
“I can give you a ride,” he said. You looked up from your phone, frowning. “I’m good to drive.”
“I don’t want to put you out,” you said, about to push the button anyway. 
“You’re not,” he said. “Trust me.” 
*** 
Joel was very nearly in over his head with you. 
Every part of him was practically screaming “mistake, mistake, mistake, you are a big fucking mistake!” 
You were Sarah’s best friend. 
You were more than a decade younger than him. 
You were starting a new job and a new life and he really shouldn’t be trying to date someone he’d just hold back. 
YOU WERE SARAH’S BEST FRIEND. 
But none of that seemed to matter. He was damn near ready to kiss whatever asshole at Uber came up with surge pricing. He’d never been happier for an excuse to give someone a ride home. 
It had been years - at least - since he’d felt like this about anyone. He’d known you for hours, no time at all, but it felt like years. Like he could say anything to you and you’d understand it. You were obviously smart, so fucking smart. After talking about movies with you for five minutes he was half convinced you saw an entirely different movie than he had, talking about allegories and symbolism and holding onto little lines he wasn’t sure anyone else would notice or think about twice. He wanted to see if you’d let him get to know you that way, if you’d have any interest in trying to know him that way. Fuck, he wanted to know you.
It didn’t help that he’d spotted you the second he was in the bar, absently turning your glass in your fingers, looking at one of the University of Texas themed Bud Light posters on the wall like you were examining it, your eyebrows drawn together, your mind clearly somewhere else entirely. You were fucking gorgeous. Gorgeous in a way that it was a problem, it was distracting, it made him not want to think about or look at or consider anything else. It took conscious effort to not stare at you. When he hadn’t known who you were, he’d been praying Sarah’s friend would stand him up so he could go talk to you. Fuck, he wanted to talk to you. 
And then you answered the phone. 
And you were Sarah’s best friend. 
Fuck.
“You settlin’ in OK and all?” He asked after you gave him your address and he programmed it into Google Maps. 
“Mostly,” you nodded. “It’d be better if I could actually get a maintenance guy to come out to my place but…” 
Joel frowned. 
“What’s goin’ on?” 
“The garbage disposal has a hell of a leak,” you sighed. “I don’t know shit about plumbing so I’m afraid to try to fix it on my own. And the ceiling fan in my bedroom seems like it’s trying break out from its drywall prison whenever I turn it on so that’s been pretty useless. Maintenance keeps saying they’ll come by but they never do. I don’t think I’ll stay in that place longer than a year, this is what I get for apartment hunting from across the country.” 
“I could look at it for you,” Joel shrugged before he was smart enough to stop himself. 
“No,” you laughed and shook your head. “You’ve done enough for me as it is, I cannot ask you…” 
“You didn’t ask, I offered,” he said. “I’m a contractor, my area of expertise is fixin’ shit shoddy builders fucked up. You have plans tomorrow? I can come by, take a look.” 
Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid. That’s what he was. Fucking stupid. 
“Tomorrow would be great, actually,” you said. “I’m just about unpacked but I have a whole box of under the sink kitchen stuff that’s still sitting on my table and driving me insane. But you’re sure I’m not putting you out? I swear, it’s nothing that urgent, I just need to light a fire under management’s ass…” 
“Not puttin’ me out,” he smiled a little at the idea of that. Fuck, you were doing him a favor, giving him an excuse to see you again. 
Stupid. 
Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid STUPID. 
SARAH’S. BEST. FRIEND. 
“Early afternoon OK?” He asked. “Unless you gotta be somewhere…” 
“Yeah, so far my vibrant social life here includes you and the barista down the street who now knows I prefer my lattes skim,” you laughed. “I’ll be around, come over whenever works for you. I hugely appreciate it, you have no idea.” 
He watched you go into your apartment when he dropped you off, a townhouse that had definitely been built in the last five years. He sighed and shook his head. Shoddy fucking craftsmanship, things breaking that fast. He’d help you find a decent place when your lease was up. 
As a friend. 
Because he could be friends with you. That would be fine. Encouraged by his meddling but well-meaning daughter who’d arranged this to begin with. Friends help friends apartment hunt. He could be your friend. 
He fucked his hand before he passed out, trying to think of anything besides grabbing you and kissing you at the bar as he did. 
“Hey Dad! How’d it go last night?” 
His eyes were still bleary as he read the text from his daughter the next morning. 
“Hey Baby Girl,” he wrote back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. How was it already 10 a.m.? How was Sarah a morning person? She sure as shit didn’t get that from him. “Went fine. Your friend seems nice.” 
She wrote back immediately. 
“She’s the BEST. Seriously. Give her like 5 minutes and she’s going to show you the best food in town, she always found the coolest restaurants up here, places no one else from the office even knew existed.” 
Joel smiled a little at that. He’d heard a lot about you over the last few years, now that he thought about it. He wasn’t big on social media so he only ever saw pictures Sarah texted him - usually a selfie in front of some tourist attraction as she stuck her tongue out at him - so he’d never had a face to put to the stories. But you’d become an integral part of her life in Seattle. 
You’d started as a “cool new coworker.” Then you got a name. And then you just became a “we.” “We went to this awesome new restaurant.” “We checked out this concert last night.” “We decided to go up the Space Needle because screw it, why not be a tourist in your own city sometimes?” He never needed to ask who she meant, he knew she was talking about you. 
He just hadn’t known it was you. 
Which was another reason this was stupid. He could not even consider doing something with you, even just in his head, not when you were that close with his daughter. 
“You guys going to hang out again?” She asked. “I think you’d be friends!” 
Joel ground his teeth for a second. 
“Don’t need you to find me friends just because Uncle Tommy got married.” 
Sarah replied right away. 
“Well if you did it yourself maybe I wouldn’t,” she said. “And she needs friends, too. Plus this is really all for my benefit, if she can swing me coming to the new Austin office and y’all are friends, we can all just hang out together. Way easier to coordinate my schedule.” 
Joel laughed a little. 
“Going to help her with something at her apartment today,” he sent back. “We’ll see if she wants me around after that.” 
Joel managed to keep from going to your house the second he was dressed. This wasn’t a problem he’d had since he was a fucking teenager, obsessed with some girl from his bio class. He was looking at his watch every five minutes, hoping it was reasonable to leave his house and go to yours. 
He called it at 11:45. He figured he’d bring you lunch. You said you liked spicy food - the spicier the better - and if your garbage disposal was leaking, chances are you couldn’t cook much. You’d need to eat something. It was the polite thing to do, he reasoned. 
Joel went to his favorite taco truck and got a little bit of almost everything. It was way too much food for two people but fuck it, he didn’t care. As long as it was something you’d like, he really didn’t give a shit. 
You were in some kind of matching not quite sweatsuit when you opened the door, the tan fabric looking so fucking soft. 
“Hey!” You smiled broadly, like him coming over made your day. You looked at your phone screen. “Damn you really mean early afternoon don’t you?” 
He glanced at his watch. 12:23. 
“Figured you could use some lunch,” he held up the takeout bag. “Didn’t think you were able to cook much, disposal outta commission…” 
“Are you really bringing me food when you came over to do me a favor?” You asked, brows raised. He shrugged. “They weren’t kidding about that whole southern gentleman thing, were they?” 
“Gotta give you pretty things some reason to put up with us,” he smiled a little. You smiled back and held the door open for him. 
Your place was sparsely decorated but comfortable and it looked like you were just about unpacked. Joel set the bag of tacos on the small table off your kitchen and you staked your claim to the spiciest one. 
“If it’s too hot for you, no shame in tappin’ out,” he teased, unwrapping his own taco. 
“I eat men with low spice tolerance for breakfast,” you waved him off. “This’ll be cake.” 
You took a bite and chewed for a second before your eyes went wide. Joel tried not to laugh at you. 
“Holy shit,” you held a hand in front of your full mouth as you spoke, your eyes watering. “That’s so hot! How the fuck…” 
“Yeah, you northerners don’t know what you’re dealin’ with,” Joel smirked. “Welcome to the big leagues.” 
“Oh, it’s on now, Miller,” you said, wincing a little. “I’ve got this, you have no idea…” 
He laughed but you finished the taco, eyes watering and face sweating, the whole way. 
“Alright, think you’ve earned some handyman work,” he smiled a little. You chugged water, somehow managing to look good as you did. “Kitchen sink right?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded. “Run the water for longer than 30 seconds and it leaks like crazy…” 
He did as you said, opening the cabinet below. You had a pot inside to catch any stray water. He turned the faucet on and after less than a minute, water was gushing out from the pipe leading down to the disposal. He shut it off. 
“Good news is, it ain’t the disposal itself,” he said, putting his tools down beside the cabinet. “Looks like they just replaced it and did a shit job setting it up…” 
He got down on the ground, lying down so his upper body was in the cabinet just as you came and perched on the counter nearby, watching him closely. 
“Let me know what I can do to help,” you said. “I feel bad, you coming over, bringing me food, fixing my shit…” 
“Don’t,” he said, frowning up at the plumbing. “Got me outta my house… can you hand me the wrench that’s in the lower part of the tool kit, the adjustable one?” 
He heard you slide off the counter to the floor and rifle through his tools before handing him the wrench, your fingertips brushing his when you did. His heart sped up. Fuck this was stupid. 
You settled in on the floor near him, near enough that he’d feel your leg brush his when he adjusted while he worked. You asked him about his favorite band and he asked you about yours. About favorite foods. About the one place on Earth you’d go if money and time were no object. 
“Alright, think I’ve got it,” he said. “Do me a favor, turn the water on…” 
“You sure?” You asked, a frown in your voice. “Don’t you want to sit up first?” 
“I’m confident,” he smiled a little. 
“Alright, turning it on now.” 
And his confidence was correct. 
For a minute. 
And then it was like the floodgates opened and Joel was suddenly soaked. 
“Cut it!” 
You scrambled to obey as he got out from under the sink, dripping wet, shirt soaked. 
“Shit,” he looked down at himself. 
“I am so sorry!” Your hands were over your mouth, eyes wide. “One minute, let me grab you a towel…” 
You ran down the hall and came back with a small pile of towels handing them to him one by one. He started with himself and then put towels down below the sink. 
“I’m so sorry, Joel,” your eyes were so wide and earnest. 
“Not your fault,” he said, getting up, feeling like more than a bit of an idiot. “Your maintenance people just fucked something up big time…” 
“I have a washer and dryer,” you said quickly. “Let me wash that for you…” 
“Thanks,” he said and he peeled off the wet shirt and handed it to you. “Appreciate it…” 
He was so busy trying not to look at you that he hadn’t realized that you were staring at him, looking up him slowly, your lower lip in your teeth. Like you were interested in him, too. Like you were trying to keep your hands to yourself, too. 
Your eyes met his. This was stupid, this was very very stupid. You were standing close to him, so fucking close to him. 
“Joel,” you breathed. 
He was kissing you before he could talk himself out of it. 
*** 
You weren’t sure if he kissed you or you kissed him but you didn’t really care because fuck, he was touching you. Your arms went around his neck and his hands went to your hips, pulling your body flush against his as he all but devoured you. 
Like he’d done nothing but think of this since the night before, too. 
You were up for an hour after you got home, cursing your best friend for having such a hot dad and trying to not think about what would have happened if you’d dragged him into your apartment when he dropped you off as you ran your vibrator over your needy clit. 
Because how could you face Sarah if you’d fucked yourself to the thought of her dad? 
But you weren’t worrying about that now. 
Instead, you were leading Joel blindly through your apartment, to your bedroom. Your fingers tangled in his hair - wet from the explosive leak in your sink - as you kissed him. You pulled him against you as you sat back on your bed, crawling back toward the middle of it and tugging him along with you so he was hovering over you. 
“You sure…” he began but you nodded so fast that he didn’t even finish asking, just smiling for a second before kissing you again. 
His tongue was insistent inside your mouth, like he was trying to reach every part of you, but you liked it. The hot, aching need gathering in you liked it, liked that he was demanding and hungry for you to the point that, when his tongue slid back behind his own teeth it’s because he wanted to bite your lip with a growl. 
You squirmed out of the soft wrap that was covering your arms and he pulled at your tank top, peeling it away from you and leaving you in just your lacy bralette you liked to wear before you really got dressed for the day. His hand cupped your breast, palm brushing your firm nipple, and you moaned. Joel slipped his hand into the lace and touched the bare skin below and you involuntarily thrust your hips up toward him. He smiled against your mouth at that. 
“So eager,” he said, teasing. 
“We both have way too much on,” you panted against him. 
“Let me help you with that,” he slid his fingers below the band of the bralette and tugged it up and over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up. “Jesus Christ…” 
“What?” You asked, breathless. 
“And I thought you were gorgeous before,” his eyes went over you slowly, tracing the edges of you. “Fucking hell…” 
You smiled and arched into kissing him again, fumbling with the button and zipper on his jeans as you did. When you got his pants open, you slipped your hand inside his underwear, finding his thick, hard cock and stroking him. It was gentle at first, getting a feel for him and fuck he was hard as steel below your touch. He was also easily the biggest cock you’d ever held, so thick and long you knew you were going to be feeling him for hours after you were done. 
Not that you minded. You wanted nothing more than to walk around with a reminder of him inside you for a while. 
Joel’s hands ran over you until he reached your pants and underwear. He pulled them off together, pausing just before your panties would be so far down that they would expose your dripping, aching slit. He pulled his lips from you. 
“This really what you want?” He asked quietly, his eyes searching yours. 
“I’ve been wanting this since last night,” you smiled a little at him. 
“Fuck, I was hopin’ you’d say that.” 
He pulled what remained of your clothes off and cast it aside, nudging you down so you were flat on the bed. He ran his finger over your slit, dipping into you just enough to make your entrance try to grip him but not enough that it gave your body something to hold. You moaned. 
“Don’t worry, beautiful,” he pressed his finger against your clit, rubbing in circles, making you moan. “Gonna take real good care of you…” 
He trailed his finger back down and sank it into you as his thumb pressed against your clit, making your body go tight around him. You rocked your hips against him and arched your back and you heard the smile in his voice as your hands flew to your comforter, knotting in the fabric there. 
“There you go,” he said softly, kissing over your jaw to your throat, nipping and sucking you as he went. “Fuck you’re tight, need you to relax and come for me so I can get inside you…” 
He added another finger, hooking them up into you, pressing into your inner walls and making you get tense and tight before you came hard around him, pussy throbbing so hard it almost hurt. 
“You’re gonna feel so goddamn good,” he groaned as he slid his fingers from you. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down with his jeans before he stroked himself, his fingers still slick with you as he did. 
“One sec,” you managed to find your voice and you stretched back to reach into your nightstand and grabbed a box of condoms. You needed to open it and pull one foil packet apart from the rest. “Sorry, haven’t needed one of these in a bit…” 
“Won’t hear me arguin’,” he half smiled at you. Fuck, that fucking dimple. You opened the condom and slid it on his tip, watching his chest heave as you did. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you took his covered tip in your mouth, wrapping your lips around him and using them to unroll the condom the rest of the way onto his thick, hard length. “Fuck, beautiful, tryin’ to rush me through this?” 
You just sucked him for a moment, his head lodged at the back of your throat as you started to work his shaft with your mouth. His hand flew to your head, fingers twisting in your hair, as you went. He moaned as your tongue pressed against the underside of him before curling around his shaft. His grip on your hair tightened and you picked up the pace, all but choking yourself on his cock, not able to help yourself, until he pulled you back off him sharply, abruptly. 
“Really don’t want things to be over that fast,” he panted, tilting his head back toward the ceiling for a moment. “Fucking hell you’re good at that…” 
You smirked a little and he pushed you back down onto the bed before lining his cock up with your entrance. He paused and you moaned, rocking your hips against him, your whole body feeling like a spring that was coiled a bit too tight. His hands splayed wide over your thighs for a moment before sliding over your stomach, your breasts, back down again. 
“Still want this?” He asked, voice needy. 
“Want you,” you panted, nodding. “Need you, need you inside me…” 
“Good,” he said, his large hands spread on your thighs, holding you open for him, watching where he was entering you as his cock split you open. He moaned, panting for breath. “Fuck, gonna be addicted to you, just fuckin’ know it…” 
You pressed your hips up into him as he filled you totally, collapsing onto you as his hips met yours. He stilled in you, giving you a moment to adjust to the delicious stretch of him inside you. He was big enough that - if you hadn’t been so desperate for him, if he hadn’t already made you come once - you were sure that it would feel like he was breaking you in two. Like this, though, it was all pleasure with a hint of pain, just enough to make you feel so fucking full you thought you might burst with it. 
He started slowly but forcefully, dragging his cock back so only his head was inside you, his pace so slow that you felt his head on every ridge inside you. But he thrust himself back into you hard, like he couldn’t bear not feeling you again immediately, like being without you was almost painful. 
But he increased his pace, thrusting himself deep into you and pulling back before changing again, more rocking his hips down into you than fully thrusting into you. It meant he kept almost constant pressure on your clit, that the head of him was all but permanently against the spot inside that you immediately sought out whenever you used your vibrator. Your back arched into him and your pussy was so tight around him you were certain you couldn’t get any more wanting. 
“Fuck, need to feel you come while I’m inside you,” he managed, sliding his arms below you to press your bare chest against him. “Please, Beautiful, fuck, please come for me…” 
“Joel!” You cried out his name as you came around him and he fucked into you for another moment before you felt him throb inside as he spilled into the condom. 
He collapsed on top of you, panting for breath and you ran your hands over his broad back. After a minute, he kissed you gently and pulled himself from your wrung out body and lying beside you. 
“So,” he was still short of breath. “Got anythin’ around here I can come by and fix tomorrow?” 
You laughed a little, trying not to think of the fact that you’d just fucked your best friend’s dad. Trying not to think of the fact that there was no way this could be a one time thing. 
“Oh, I’m sure I can think of something,” you said. “I’m sure I can think of a lot of things.” 
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lady-raziel · 7 months ago
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long reaction to the update
ok. so they put out an update video! since i've been commentating for the last three days i might as well subject you all to more of my thoughts today.
main takeaway: this was a good apology video. i mean it. short and to the point, no overproduction, heartfelt and honest (and not a ukelele to be seen. thank god.) they took ownership of the situation, apologized, and restated how much they value their relationship with the fandom.
their solution is to make the watcher tv platform into kind of an iteration of patreon where content is available for early access before it is released onto youtube later. this is clearly a better option than paywalling everything for everyone. i'm not sure what the relative breakdown of costs turns out to be when you compare how much they were making on patreon after the platform took their cut VS how much it costs in overhead to run and maintain their own platform (how much it costs annually to contract via Vimeo, essentially). but i'm sure that's part of the calculation.
all things considered, that does seem like the best option out of all the alternatives. it allows them to not completely abandon any of the pans they have simmering over the fire for the time being. i don't think i ever thought they were going to just say "oops, forget about the streaming thing! let's pretend that never happened!" because at this point they've invested quite a lot of time and money into it, and i don't disagree that keeping it in some iteration may help them make up some of the funds they're lacking.
i would say, it's fine to keep the streamer. this is one of the ok outcomes, all things considered-- but if they're going to do it, they've GOT to do it smart from this point forward. listen to both the fans and the consultants intimately. both are going to have valid points, and both are going to be right. listening to too much of either side will sink this thing because each has motives and expertise that the other doesn't. if the fans say $6 is too much, listen to them-- but have conversations with business consultants about how much you realistically need to charge to make things work.
also, i'd use this whole situation as a learning experience. watcher is a young company, and it's literally inevitable that mistakes will happen. what's different is that the watcher crew haven't really been in a position before where they've been on the receiving end of the internet-angry-justice-hammer to this extent. it's one thing to watch it happen to others, but it's a position of extreme privilege (and a bit of hubris) to think "but that won't happen to me, because i'm built different." naw, man-- two things in life are inevitable: death and fuckups. the callout posts get us all in the end.
what's really important is that they use this as a wakeup call that even the most loyal fandoms will only follow you so far to the cliff's edge, and you don't want to push that. you have to strike a balance between the passion projects that you think are worthy and the stuff that maybe doesn't excite you as much anymore but the people want to see. a little fanservice keeps the lights on, as unfair as that might seem. i'm gonna make 50 markiplier choccy milk memes just so i can make one niche political joke once and a while for 6 likes. it is what it is.
i'd also use this as a chance to take a very careful look at company structure and finances. it's not fun to do and nobody likes it. trust me-- this is hard whether you're a single adult trying to pay the bills or the freaking US government (speaking from experience on both-- i have to read the president's budget for work frequently). but you all have to ask hard questions about the ratio of creative staff you take on VS staff for administrative and other business roles, as well as the costs and benefits of everything you spend money on. how many staff members are essential to location shoots? can this video be shot with 2 cameras instead of 3 and thus you don't need another cameraperson? you might even have to come to the decision that instead of pitching a new show it makes more sense to use those funds to hire your essential non-creative roles or contract firms or freelancers.
paying staff a fair wage with benefits speaks highly of what watcher wants their values to be. it's hard to find such a position in a creative role and still actually get to work on things you care about. but it would be much worse if watcher didn't make realistic decisions about finances and it lead to the death of the company and everyone losing their jobs. the whole watcher company can work, in my opinion, but not without some sacrifices. they're going to have to run it more like a business and less like a youtube-channel-turned-business in the future if they want to survive.
last thing i'll add is that while i do think this was a good apology video, i still think they hurt themselves by not putting out some sort of statement on Friday or Saturday just to say that they were formulating a response. As i've said in other posts, it's ok and in fact beneficial to not make a kneejerk reaction, but it's also very important to communicate that you SEE what's happening. you SEE what people are saying and THAT'S why you need more time to respond. saying nothing and leaving the angry public to wonder if you dropped your phone off the Hoover Dam or just don't care? that's a fumble. it's a common mistake companies make in a crisis, but that doesn't mean it doesn't erode trust fast.
this could have been handled better in many ways. we see that, and i'm glad watcher says they see that too. crucial going forward is taking all this and patching the errors that caused all this to fall apart and learning from the experience.
tbh at this point what i'm most sad about is that the watcher crew have probably been too stressed out and upset to appreciate some of the absolute bangers people have been laying down to clown on them. i think if it wasn't about them they might be touched by the collective attitude and creative spirit. /j
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messedupfan · 4 months ago
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Chapter 20
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Summary: The kids school is having it's annual end of year fundraiser, an adult only event for the parents of the school to make donations to the school fun. You bring Nebula as your date. Wanda gets a little help from Agatha. Jean and Anna decide to separate for sometime.
Dedicated to: Orange Anon 🧃 (HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!!!)
Warning: Some smut, a masterbation scene with fantasizing 18+
A/n: Hello!!! I have been dying to write this chapter since December!!! Glad to finally be here. Although, I haven't been able to edit much since I've been busy so major apologies for errors. Can't wait to see the comments for this one. Hope y'all enjoy!
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With summer break approaching, the school is constantly informing, or rather aggressively reminding parents about their end-of-year fundraiser. Wanda avoided the event last year because she was still deep in her depression and consumed by grief. The last thing she wanted to do was attend the same event her ex-husband and his beautiful young wife were at, especially at a time when she could barely get the motivation to get dressed up. Agatha tried to get her to come but she eventually gave up. Now that it's coming up, she can't help but think about the difference the possibility of meeting you sooner would have affected her life. Not knowing that you also avoided attending the event last year as well. 
“Mom!” The boys cheer as they run up to her at pick up. They give her tight hugs. It's not her week with them but Vision called her during his lunch to explain that things are tense at home and the boys have been asking to stay with her. She held back from commenting on his pattern of cheating and creating hostile environments in his own home. She doesn't need to fight with him or try to involve herself in his personal life again. All she needs to do is worry about her children. It's something that her therapist suggested and it's been helpful in these past several months. 
“Ugh, I hope you boys never grow up!” She grins as she holds them tightly. She doesn't want to see them tall and ignoring her as teenagers. She doesn't think she can handle the rejection. She likes them small and adoring her. 
“Ms. Wanda!” Rachel runs towards them instead of her mom who is standing a few feet away. She joins in on the hug. “Is Tommy and Billy's daddy on a trip again?” She says as she looks up at Wanda. 
Wanda laughs, “Something like that. Where's your mom?” She looks around the playground until she finds Jean walking towards them. 
“Hey! It's been a while since I've seen you,” she greets happily. Wanda has to pretend like she doesn't know the stunt that Jean tried to pull several months ago. The last thing she heard about your situation with your ex-wife was that things were getting better since the two of you started to focus on Rachel. Wanda thought that it was great that the two of you were getting along again, but she wasn’t quick to forgive what Jean tried to do to you. 
“Hey, Jean! It has been too long,” Wanda greets politely. Rachel steps away from Wanda and greets her mom with a hug that is just as tight. “How is everything?” 
“Oh I'm sure Y/n keeps you well informed,” Jean replies. It was true for the months that you were single and a couple of months after you found out about the weirdest kidnapping she'd ever heard of. But it hasn't been true for some time. Wanda is lucky if she can get an update on your life as it is. You have been occupying most of your time with Nebula. If it weren't for a couple of orders coming in from your online shop, she wouldn't see you at all. 
Unfortunately, even though you're working in her backyard on the weekends, the two of you don't talk much. She isn't sure if it's you pulling away or her but it hurt either way. 
“Not really,” Wanda says without her expression wavering. 
“Oh! Um, I've been doing well. How-How  have you been?” She asks as she runs her fingers through Rachel's hair. 
“I've been really great lately, yeah,” Wanda looks down at the boys with a soft smile. “I keep getting extra time with my boys which is fantastic.” She looks up at Jean again. Her eyes do a small scan of the woman. She is in her work attire but there is a coffee stain on her shirt that is poking out of her blazer. She has dark circles under her eyes. She looks tired even with a smile on her face. “We should catch up sometime,” Wanda says politely. Jean looks like she could use a friend. Thinking of it now, other than you, Wanda isn't sure that she's heard of Jean having friends. Maybe she has friends with her wife? She isn't sure. And right now, you're not in the best position to be her friend. 
“I'd like that a lot,” Jean replies. Her smartwatch starts to buzz and she sighs. “Work is calling. I have to get going. Come on love bug,” she takes Rachel's hand and starts walking towards the parking lot. 
“Are you guys ready to go home?” Wanda asks her kids and they both nod. She guides them out to her car in the parking lot. 
You are sitting alone on your couch on a Friday night thinking about Wanda. You've been doing everything that you can to give yourself some space from her. Nebula eventually asked about your friendship with Wanda during one of your dates with her months ago. The two of you were eating gelaties, a flavored Italian ice with frozen custard on top. You were enjoying the sweet flavors of mango ice combined with vanilla custard as well as the smooth textures of the treat. There wasn't a treat quite like it. Nebula was enjoying their blue raspberry ice topped with cotton candy-flavored custard. 
“So, are you and Wanda just friends?” She asked seemingly out of the blue. You weren't sure where the question was coming from. At the moment, you ran through every conversation you'd had with Nebula until that point to see if you mentioned Wanda more than you should have. But you can't come up with a number. 
“Truthfully?” You asked as you mixed the vanilla custard further into the mango ice. 
“No, lie to me,” she quipped with a slight smirk. 
“Okay, fair enough,” you took a deep breath. “I've considered becoming more than friends with her. But it was complicated. Then she made it less complicated when she rejected me.” You didn't want to lie to her the way that you were lying to Daisy. It nearly killed you during that time.
Nebula got quiet and her smirk disappeared. Even with the shop being busy with other customers ordering. Chats happened at the surrounding tables. Everything felt still in her silence. Everyone seemed to vanish completely, leaving only the two of you, sitting in an empty Rita’s alone. 
You watched her as you swirled your spoon around in your cup. She seemed to be in deep thought. You felt a slight panic tighten your chest and churn your stomach. 
“Is that a problem?” You finally asked. 
Nebula’s distinctive eyes connected with yours again. “No,” she answered. 
You couldn't tell if she was being honest or not. But you didn't question her. You just made a promise to yourself that you weren't going to allow your feelings to continue to grow for Wanda. A task that was easier said than done. 
You started small. Ignoring a text from her here and there. Well, not completely ignoring them. You just wouldn't respond as fast as you normally would. Then you stopped going by as much. Rachel's therapy appointments made it easier to stay away from Wanda’s for some time. But eventually, you began to miss her. You would call her whenever you got a chance to check-in. Then you fell asleep talking to her on the phone one night and you had to pull back on that as well. 
As fate would have it, you received two custom orders which meant you had to spend time at Wanda’s. She was excited when you told her that you had two projects to work on. The two of you embraced each other tightly. You closed your eyes and breathed her in. You missed her scent. You missed the way her body felt against yours. You missed her laugh. You missed her smile. 
You had to build more boundaries. Whenever you came to work in the shed in the backyard, you never went through the house. Even if you had Rachel with you. She would walk through the front door and you would slip in through the gate on the side of the house. You’d bring lunch and you'd leave before dinner. Wanda never bothered you. She seemed to understand that the two of you needed time apart from each other. 
The more you pushed yourself away from her. The more she invaded your every thought. You swore you could feel something pulling you towards her. It made nights like these difficult. Shortly after your conversation with her about Wanda, Nebula stated that the two of you were dating and non-exclusive. You were a little thrown off because you thought that she only wanted to see you. But you had to face the fact that she wasn't the only person you wanted to see. So you didn't get upset or argue. You accepted the status of the relationship. Nebula is on a date right now and all you want to do is be with Wanda. You wonder how much of her time Nebula is going to continue to waste on you. 
You open and close your phone multiple times. Hoping for a message from someone, anyone, so that you can get your mind to stop thinking about Wanda and what she might be doing tonight. That's when your mind gets stuck on the idea that she also might be on a date with someone. To your knowledge, she doesn't have the kids this week so she's available. 
You start to imagine her sitting in front of someone with her smile and it hurts. You don't want her to be with anyone else. But you do want her to be happy. You shake your head turn on the television and scroll through the streaming channels. You don't know what you're in the mood to watch. 
You throw on a movie you've heard about for years but never got around to watching. Your stomach rumbles so you get up and go to the kitchen to make something. As you start cooking, you imagine Wanda coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. It's so real you can feel it. Then you try to picture anyone else but you can't. You've had moments like that with Jean and with Daisy. But you couldn't visually remember them. You close your eyes for a second and sigh as you think about Wanda leaning her head against your back. You think about how you would lift your arm to get her to slip under and rest her head on your chest. You think about how you would kiss her as she hugged you from the side. 
The aroma of your food cooking snaps you out of the fantasy. You focus on cooking so that you don’t burn the building down daydreaming about your friend. As you sit in front of the television you realize that you left the movie playing so you start it from the beginning and pay attention while you eat. 
As you watch the movie, you start to imagine Wanda curled up next to you watching the movie with you. When you try to get rid of that image and focus on the movie, your mind wanders back to what she is doing tonight. Who is she with? Is she seeing anyone? Is she back to hooking up with random people? 
What if she was hooking up with you? You wonder. 
As the couple in the movie confess their feelings to each other you stop paying attention and start to think about being in Wanda's house. The both of you a bit tipsy from the Sokovian vodka. Her favorite because it reminds her of her parents and their culture. You're making her laugh because she gets your sense of humor. Then there's a moment when her eyes connect with yours. And nothing is holding either of you back. 
You kiss her and she holds your face to keep you close. You crawl closer to her and she falls back. You try to hover over her as you continue to kiss her but she pulls you on top of her because she wants you as close to her as possible. She needs you as close to her as possible. 
You look down at your hands as you imagine what her breasts would feel like. How firm is it? How soft? Would she prefer that you squeeze it roughly or would she like a gentle massage? You lick your lips as you imagine her nipples. How hard they would be. You think about tracing them with your tongue. You wonder what her sweat would taste like. 
You shove your hand in your pants to touch yourself as your mind continues to torture you with images of her. Your lips on her abdomen. The way her face would contort from the pleasure. Seeing how she might bite her lips to stifle her sighs. Your senses don't stop there. You start to hear her sighs. Her soft moans. Maybe she’d call out your name when you're doing something wrong. Or she'll beg you for more. You swear you can smell her now. Then finally, as you start to reach your climax, you imagine what her juices tastes like. You think about how you'd perform cunnilingus right then and there. Because there are no kids to worry about. No one to interrupt. It's just you and Wanda. 
You reach your orgasm and breathe heavily as you come down from your high. The image of Wanda fades from your mind. You sit there for a moment. Reminding yourself of where you are. Then you feel disgusting. How could you think of your friend like that? She is your friend and nothing more. You quickly get up and go to your bathroom to wash your hands. You change your underwear and replace your jeans with sweatpants. 
There wasn't a mess on the couch but you feel guilty for getting off on the couch your daughter watches her cartoons on and remove the covers on the cushions to throw in the wash. The movie’s credits roll and you flip on a random sitcom to try and lighten your mood. You sit on the single chair that matches your couch as you wait for the washer to be done. 
You sigh as you think about what you need to change in your life. Then there is a knock on your door. You check your watch as you frown. It's pretty late. You rack your brain as you consider the possibilities of people on the other side of the door. There's another knock, this one a little more rapid. You get up and shut off the television. You peer through the peephole in the door before quickly opening it. 
“Jean, what's wrong?” You ask as you let her and Rachel inside. 
“Anna and I got in a really big argument and we just couldn't stay there,” Jean says as she walks through the door. 
“Hey bug,” you smile at your confused and sleepy daughter. It was way past her bedtime and she was in her pajamas. You lift her in your arms and carry her to her bedroom. You tuck her into bed and close the door to her room. You look down at the door handle and sigh. You shake your head. You really hope this doesn't affect the progress that has been made over the last couple of months. You're going to contact her therapist in the morning after you get all of the details from Jean. 
“What happened to your couch?” Jean asks as she takes your spot in the chair. She has makeup all over her face. Her eyes are bloodshot and her cheeks are puffy. You scan her face to look for any signs of a slap or worse. You don't see any and you hope, for your daughter's sanity, that Jean didn't strike Anna. She might not be as understanding of something like that.
“I spilled something on it and threw the covers in the wash,” you sit on the coffee table in front of her. You try to keep your gaze soft and stay patient. But you really needed to know what happened and why Jean thought it was a good idea to not only leave her home in the middle of an argument with her wife but stay at her ex’s for the night. Disrupting your daughter's sleep in the process. 
She keeps her eyes locked on the stripped cushions on the couch. The corner of her mouth lifts. “Remember when we bought our first couch?” She starts softly and you can tell that her vocal chords are exhausted. You wonder how long she was in a screaming match with Anna. “It was white because it just had to be. It was the first big purchase we made with my discount at the store. Your grandma told us to wrap it in plastic and neither of us listened. We could hardly afford it at the time, but she offered to loan her set until we could.” 
You nod as you remember exactly what memory she is thinking of. “I remember,” you say softly. “You refused because you thought it looked tacky. But Rachel was two and constantly walking and running around. That sofa was covered in so many different colors of food stains before the end of the year, it became an entirely new couch.” You start to laugh as you're reminded of how horrible the smell was. “Gosh it took us months to get rid of the smell even after we tossed the damn thing out.” 
“Oh gosh,” Jean covers her face as she starts to laugh. “Don't remind me, I still sometimes think the smell is lingering in the house.” She moves her fingers through her hair and takes a deep breath. “Anna isn't so sure that she wants to be part of this family anymore,” Jean finally admits. 
“I'm sure the two of you will work it out,” you say to comfort her. There isn't much else you can say to her about it. This isn't the first time that Anna has expressed wanting to leave Jean. A few weeks before their wedding, Anna had even disappeared for two days after an argument then came back as if nothing had happened. “Come on, I'll get you set up in my room. I'll take the couch,” you say as you offer her your hand while you stand up from the coffee table. Jean takes your hand with a small thank you. 
“The argument was really bad. I know I shouldn't have left and I shouldn't have woken Rachel up but,” tears start to stream down Jean's cheeks again. “I just had to get out of there.” You nod and once you're in your room, you pull her in for a warm embrace. 
“Jean, did you stop taking your medication when you decided you wanted a baby?” You ask softly as you continue to hold her. You don't want her to blow up at you for asking the question, so it's better to have her restrained in your arms. 
She doesn't react the way you expect. She doesn't take offense to the question. She doesn't accuse you of trying to call her a bad mother. She doesn't deny having an episode. Jean breaks down into heavy sobs in your arms as she admits that both her and Anna decided to stop taking their medications just in case you came around to the idea. You hold her until she stops crying and leave her tucked into your bed. When the cushion covers are done washing, you throw them in the dryer and watch TV until they're done so that you don't have to worry about fixing up the cushions in the morning. 
You pull out the bed that's in the couch and make it nice for yourself to sleep on. When everything is fixed up the way you like it, you shut off the TV and turn off the lights. You check the lock on the door before climbing into bed. You look at your phone one last time before you officially call it a night. No new messages. You sigh and scroll through social media for a little bit. When you land on a video you find funny, you send it to Wanda first. Then you send it to Nebula. 
In the morning, you wake up to two notifications, one from Nebula being critical about the video you sent her and the other from Wanda thanking you for the laugh. You respond to Nebula first and ask why she didn’t find it funny and a few minutes later you’re reading a novel of reasons why the video is offensive. You don’t have any idea what to respond with so you decide to make coffee in hopes that it will help you come up with something. 
But as you make coffee, Jean wakes up and joins you for a cup. You talk to her about the fight she had with her wife and she breaks down as she reveals that last night was the biggest fight but that there have been many over the months since they can't afford the other options to have a kid. You get even more side tracked when Rachel wakes up and you help Jean make breakfast for everyone. It reminds you of the past. Being a small family of three when the most drama in your life was being a young parent and spouse. 
Rachel doesn't say much about last night. Just that she was confused when she woke up in this bed and not the bed at her other home. “Hey Rachel guess what,” you say with a little smirk and you watch her take a bite of her toast. Her eyes widen as the both of you rush to say, “I love you,” first. She spits toast crumbs as she does, some land on the table and some splatter on her mom. 
“Gross!” Jean complains as she uses napkins to wipe her arm. “You did that on purpose, Y/n.” You and Rachel share a laugh. It was a little game that started when she was a toddler and learning how to speak. It began because whenever Jean was feeling affectionate, she would come up to you and say, “Guess what?” You would pretend to be clueless because you wanted to hear her say it and she would say, “I love you, you idiot.” 
Rachel began to pick up on it and she would start to say, “Baba, guess what?” In her little voice. You would smile and respond with, “I love you,” at the same time as she would. Eventually it became a competition of who could say it faster. It was endearing to hear your baby girl get frustrated while telling you that she loved you. 
It has survived all of these years and you fear the day that she rolls her eyes and reminds you that she's not a kid anymore. 
“I don't know what you're talking about,” you say to Jean as you help clean up the crumbs from the table. 
“Whatever,” she shakes her head with a light laugh. She looks at her plate of food and smiles as she is thrown back into so many good memories of being a family. “I'm sad that I forgot about that,” she admits as she looks over at Rachel who is completely focused on her breakfast now. Jean starts to comb her fingers through her daughter’s soft red hair. She recalls how excited she was when her daughter's hair started to grow out as red as her own. Rachel took after her for the most part but there is still a lot of you in her. Her smile is yours. Her nose is yours. Her ears are all you. As much as you try to pin those on Jean. 
“It's not really your game,” you say from the kitchen where you're tossing the used napkins into the trash bin. “I’d have been surprised if you did remember it.” You say as you return to your seat to finish your breakfast. 
Jean rests her elbow on the table and sets her chin on the palm of her hand as she watches you. She can't help but feel a little regretful for not working harder on the marriage she had with you. As you eat, you become aware of her gaze on you. With a confused frown you look at her and she gives you an apologetic expression before she clears her throat and goes back to eating her food. You ignore it. 
Anna is sitting in her kitchen all alone, slowly sipping her tea. She ia taking the time alone to consider if this is what she wants. She did this before her wedding day. She was getting anxious about fully commiting herself to Jean and to becoming a stepmom and figuring out where she fits into this family that she joined. So she took a weekend to run off and get a hotel room. She sat in her hotel room alone for the most part. 
At some point, she went to the indoor pool to people watch. There were little kids that needed more parental supervision than they had. She nearly had a heart attack watching a toddler fall into the deep end of the pool. She quickly swooped the little guy into her arms and returned him to the fearful mother. The woman thanked her profusely but Anna waved her off and found herself saying, “I’m a mom too. I would hope that someone wouldn't watch and let my daughter drown.” The woman got excited and wanted to hear more about the daughter that Anna wasn't sure she should commit to. Anna happily talked and bragged about Rachel and realized how easy it was. Then the woman's husband pulled her away because they had plans to get to. 
Anna was left alone again. She sat on one of the chairs and continued to watch people. There were two girls that were being bothered by a single guy. The girls themselves were single but weren't interested in him. Anna looked down at her engagement ring and knew she didn't want to be single anymore. 
Anna looks at her rings now. She still doesn't want to be single. Her chest feels heavy not having Rachel bounce around the kitchen waiting for breakfast. She misses hearing the cartoons on the television. She misses her wife's presence. She doesn't know why she is pushing away her family as much as she has been. She just feels like she didn't understand what she was signing up for. She buzzes air past her lips as she thinks about how everyone has told her that the first year of marriage is the hardest. 
She never wanted to believe them but everyone was right. Even Jean said it. Anna would just roll her eyes and remind Jean that she was a lot longer the first time around. 
As a test, she removes her rings and sets them on the counter space in front of her. She looks at her naked hand and considers leaving them off. But she quickly shoves the rings back on and grabs her keys. She needed advice and the person she sought advice from the most was her mom. 
Wanda is sitting with Agatha as they meet for brunch with their boys running around Agatha’s house. “Are you planning on going to that fundraiser?” Wanda asks as she takes a sip of her orange juice. 
Agatha rolls her eyes at being reminded of the event, “As much fun as it would be to remind everyone who the life of the party is. I was planning on going but then my mother called. She fell and sprained her wrist.” Wanda shows her concern and Agatha waves her off. “She'll be fine. She sprained her wrist years ago and when she's lonely she throws the brace back on and calls me in a panic.” She drinks her apple juice. “I don't always go but she wants to see Nick before he gets shipped off to that summer camp that his father found. So I'm going to drive up and spend that week with them.” 
“Damn, I was hoping that we could go together,” Wanda frowns as she picks at the paint chipping from her finger nails. 
“You wanted to go this year? Even with Vision and his child bride attending?” Agatha leans in, intrigued as she looks her friend up and down. “I see, you want an excuse to see Y/n.” 
“Or maybe make them jealous,” Wanda says shyly as she moves the scraps around her plate. It’s becoming apparent to her that no matter what, she wants to be with you. She made the mistake of guarding her heart and telling you to find someone else. She wasn't ready to accept that someone as genuine as you exists. In the back of her mind, she couldn't trust that you are good. She was afraid that you wouldn’t stay good once you were in a relationship with her. She was afraid that you would change the way that Vision did. 
When Wanda realized that Vision was never good, she was able to stop putting that fear in you. She was able to see the light and see that the only thing keeping her from her happiness is herself. 
“Oh? Please elaborate on that,” Agatha scoots closer to Wanda. 
The brunette shrugs, “I don't know. I was thinking about showing up in some stunning dress. Maybe get my hair done. Kind of go all out.” 
“Were you thinking about getting a date? You have to have a date,” Agatha suggests as she gets excited about the idea. 
“I don't know, would that be too much?” Wanda drinks her orange juice as she considers the idea. 
“Honey, Y/n will probably be there with that Nebula girl, right?” Agatha reminds her. “Why should you show up alone?” 
“I don't know, Agatha, that feels… I don't know… so high school,” Wanda resists. 
Agatha picks up her phone as she goes through her contact list. “Babe, I'm serious. I'm going to get you some serious arm candy. There's this new guy at work that just moved here from New York. He's blind, but he's cute enough. Definitely someone that will have Y/n-” 
“Hold on, did you just say he's cute enough for a blind guy?” Wanda scoffs, a little shocked by her friend's insensitivity. 
Agatha rolls her eyes, “No, he's cute enough to get the job done and he's blind. Just, don't worry about a thing. I will set up the blind date. But I'll make sure he's not blind to the setup.” Agatha snickers a bit, proud of her puns and Wanda shakes her head as she finishes her orange juice. 
On the night of the fundraiser you leave Rachel with Jean who was still staying at your apartment while she worked things out with Anna. They have talked since their big fight but they agreed to spend some more time separated from each other. You don't know why Jean and Rachel couldn't stay at the house. It was their house first. But Anna doesn't have anywhere to go so you dealt with it. Under the condition that Jean started her medication again. To your knowledge, she is taking them. You don't check under her tongue or anything but she does make a point to show you that she is taking them in the morning and at night. 
Because of this, you haven't been able to see Nebula since Rachel doesn't know that you're dating again and you don't want her knowing about Nebula yet since it was a big deal with Daisy. But she knows about tonight’s event. Thanks to her school, you're able to go on a date with Nebula. 
You knock on the door with a single flower in your hand. “Wow,” you say as you admire her beauty and her outfit. She is beautiful. “You look fantastic,” you compliment as you hold out the flower to her. 
She smiles as she smells it. “Thank you,” she sets it in her key bowl by the table. “I’ll put it in a vase later. It's supposed to rain soon.” As if on cue a loud clap of thunder rings out while she locks her door. 
“Wow, I had no idea,” you say as you walk her to your car. “I didn't see that in the forecast earlier,” I frown as I check my phone before starting the car. Sure enough gray clouds with lightning bolts and cartoon rain appear on the weather app for the next few hours. “Huh, I guess you do have to check it more than once.” 
“I told you,” Nebula says with a smile. She kisses your cheek as you start the car. “I’ve missed you these past couple of weeks.” 
“I missed you too,” you aren't lying, you're simply omitting the small detail that you've missed Wanda more. “It's been so weird living with Jean again. I can honestly say, I don't miss being married to her and actually be certain of that for once.” 
Nebula laughs and connects her phone to the Bluetooth in the car to play her music. The two of you sing along to the songs the entire drive to the venue. It starts to sprinkle a bit as you get closer to the event. 
Wanda is pacing back and forth in her underwear on a three way video call with Carol and Agatha. Her room is a mess of dresses, pant suits, and shoes. She hasn't even made it as far as accessories. “I don't know! I thought the dress I bought last week was the revenge dress but it's hideous! Y/n would never like something like that!” 
Carol puts her face in her hands and groans. “Wanda we know how to make you look hot for anyone. We don't know how to make you look specifically hot for Y/n. We like them but neither of us have tried to get in their pants.” 
“Speak for yourself,” Agatha quips. 
“Agatha!” Wanda and Carol scold her. 
“What? I have eyes don't I? Besides, that was before I knew Wanda was serious about them. Y/n turned me down every time, relax,” Agatha says. “Why don't you try the purple dress? The one you wore to that one thing that one time.” 
“Because that's helpful,” Carol mutters. 
“Oh yeah! The booby one, okay I'll be right back, one of you add someone who might know what Y/n will find attractive.” Wanda says as she runs off to her walk-in closet to find the purple dress. 
“How? How do you do it Agatha? I swear I sent her pictures and she still couldn't remember the dresses I suggested! You say that one you wore that one time and she gets it!” 
“I'm just that good,” Agatha says. 
“I only have one purple dress because Agatha got it for me for Christmas,” Wanda shouts from her closet. 
“That too,” Agatha says. 
“Who can we add?” Carol says as she thinks about who they know that knows Y/n best. 
“Jean?” Agatha suggests. 
“Ew, no,” Wanda says as she steps out of the closet in the dress. “I don't want to ask her to make me look hot for her ex.” 
“I'm just saying, they've known each other their whole lives,” Agatha reminds her friends. 
“I don't think she'd be much help because based on the stories they've told, Jean didn't have to do much for Y/n’s attention,” Carol adds. 
“Hmm, that's true,” Agatha ponders. “What about Darcy? Didn't they try dating at one point?” She suggests next.
“They did?” Wanda and Carol say in unison. 
“You ladies are so full of yourselves sometimes. You know, you girls could benefit from paying attention when people speak,” Agatha shakes her head. “Screw it, I'm adding her to the call.” 
“Wait,” Wanda tries to stop her but the call is already going through. Darcy answers in her pitch black bedroom. 
“Who the hell is - oh hi guys! What the hell is wrong with you? It's one in the morning!” Darcy groans as she turns on the lamp on her nightstand. The bright light reveals more of her setting and more of her than anyone expected to see when she turned on the light. 
“Uh Darcy, nip slip,” Carol says as she points at the screen. Darcy pulls her sheets further up and a deeper groan follows as a man's back appears in the background. “Oh, my, who is that?” Carol asks with a laugh. 
“It's your fault you called me at one in the morning on a Friday night,” Darcy defends herself. 
“In our defense, you didn't have to answer,” Agatha points out. 
“Ladies! Focus! My escort is supposed to arrive here in thirty minutes!” Wanda tries to keep everyone in line. 
“Right, Darcy! We need your help making Wanda look good for Y/n,” Carol informs Darcy of the reason they disrupted her sleep. 
“Oh, I know what could make Wanda look good,” Darcy starts, “she could find a time machine, then go back to the night she rejected Y/n and not do that.” 
“Oh come on,” Agatha says. 
“Low blow,” Carol says. 
“This was a bad idea,” Wanda falls onto the front of her bed. 
“Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I thought that I had to but I didn't,” Darcy says as she sits up and yawns. “What can I do to help?” 
“There's a fundraiser for the kids' school and I want to wow Y/n into leaving with me instead of Nebula,” Wanda explains. “But I don't know what kind of outfit will do that!” 
“Y/n is very simple to please, if you showed up in just one of their shirts and nothing else, they'd marry you on the spot,” Darcy says as if it's obvious that you're not a difficult person. 
“Yeah, like Wanda has one of Y/n’s shirts,” Agatha laughs. Wanda gets quiet and looks at the corner of her room where a shirt she kept is lying on the floor. She had been wearing it to bed lately and it no longer smells like you. But she wasn't willing to let it go yet. “Wanda! Are you serious?” Agatha shouts into the phone. 
“Calm down, I didn't steal it. I just didn't return it when I found it. But that's besides the point. I'm not showing up to a school event in a T-shirt. We have to do better than that ladies!” Wanda says as she stands up and lets the dress fall to the floor. 
“Wow so my nipples are a problem but we're getting the whole show from Wanda and no one is saying anything?” Darcy gripes. 
Carol rolls her eyes, “We're far past that by now Lewis.” 
“Whatever, do you have any black dresses?” Darcy asks. 
“Like a million of them,” Agatha moans, shaking her head, exhausted by this conversation. 
“Y/n appreciates a little black dress. I bet you anything that Nebula is wearing a red dress,” Darcy defends her suggestion.  
“No, my connection at the school sent me a picture of when they arrived. Nebula is wearing blue,” Agatha says with her phone close to her face as she sends the image to the group. 
“Wait!” Darcy says a little too loud, disturbing the man in her bed. “Shut up you big baby,” she rolls her eyes at him. “Look, do you see Y/n’s tie?” Darcy asks with her phone close to her face and the camera at a bad angle again. 
“Yeah, what about it?” Agatha questions, not really concerned about the tie as much as she should be. 
“Wait, I want to see,” Carol's view changes as well and Wanda is standing and staring at the worst angles of her friends as they look at the image on their phones. “Oh I see,” Carol says. 
“I get it now,” Agatha agrees. 
“What?” Wanda asks, growing annoyed with her friends. 
“Wanda, grab the velvet suit from the back of the closet. The one you wore to that holiday party at my work three years ago,” Agatha directs Wanda. “You're going to show up ready to match Y/n. If that suit doesn't work, then it's their loss. That suit almost turned me.” 
“I agree, that suit is magic on you,” Carol says as she remembers seeing pictures of her friend in that suit. 
“Carol, stop drooling over Wanda and get ready for dinner with my parents,” Valkyrie says in the background.
“Alright,” Carol sighs, she's not very fond of her fiancee’s conservative family. “Y’all heard the misses. I've got to go. Good luck Maximoff,” she bids everyone goodbye before ending the call. 
“I should go too, I have an early morning,” Darcy says before she hangs up. 
The screen is just Agatha with Wanda in the corner of her phone. “I should go too so that you're not distracted. Have a good night Wanda. I want all of the dirty details tomorrow,” she ends the conversation altogether leaving Wanda on her own to finish getting ready. 
It's not too long before there's a knock on Wanda's door. She opens it and is surprised by the man that stands before her. He is more than she expected, she feels a little speechless. “I'm sorry, I'm not sure if I'm in the right place. Are you Wanda Maximoff?” The handsome stranger with the red tinted glasses asks. 
“Uh, um, yes, that's me. Sorry, hi. You're,” Wanda is spacing on his name for a moment then remembers Agatha making a doormat joke about him. She clears her throat to clear her stutter. “I'm assuming that you're Matt, correct.” 
He smiles and Wanda can't help but blush at his charming grin. “Yes I am,” he says. “I'm assuming that I'm not what you expected?” His tone is sweet as he steps back from the front door. Anticipating for Wanda to walk with him to the waiting car. 
“Honestly? Not really,” Wanda replies as she locks her front door. Agatha really downplayed Matt’s good looks. 
“Ah, I see. Is it safe to assume that Agatha forgot to mention the detail that I am blind?” He extends his elbow to her when he feels her get close to him and Wanda accepts it, wrapping her hands at the crook of his elbow. She walks him towards the car while he holds his folded up guide stick in his hand. 
“No, I knew that part. She mentioned that right away. But she didn't mention how handsome you were, she said something along the lines of ‘he’s not bad looking for a blind guy.’ Plus all of the ‘blind date’ puns that she was able to work with.” Matt laughs, humored and flattered by the story about his abrasive co-worker. 
“Ah, that's interesting. I don't think I've ever exceeded expectations in that department before. I would have thought she asked me to be your fake date because of my charms and looks.” The two enter the car. “She paid for this ride by the way, she wanted me to stress that.” 
“I owe her big time,” Wanda says as she lets go of Matt's arm. This was going to be an interesting night for her. 
At the fundraiser, you walk around a biding table with Nebula. You can't donate much since you're still paying off Rachel's medical bills and the apartment complex you live in is trying to raise your rent. You're under negotiations but it's looking like no matter what, it's still going to cost you. There isn't much else that you can do other than make it look like you're going to give this school money when they hardly wanted to do anything for your daughter in her time of need. 
Nebula quickly pulls you over to the food as the line shortens and the pair of you fill your plates with as much food as they can handle. There aren't many parents that you know at the school because your daughter only hangs out with Billy and Tommy outside of school. At least to your knowledge. That left you finding a random and unclaimed table to stand at with Nebula as you tried to make the most out of the evening. 
As the band played covers of popular songs you kept your focus on the woman with you as she became the most entertaining person in the room. That was until something made your eyes subtly scan the room where they inevitably land on Wanda walking in with a man attached to her arm. She's dating? Is your first thought. Your second thought is, That is one hell of a suit. 
You quickly return your attention to Nebula but you can't focus on her. She is beautiful, of course, but Wanda is stunning. You can't help but search for her again and feel entirely captivated by her gaze as her eyes meet yours. It takes all of your strength to break the contact. 
“We can go say hi,” Nebula says as she pushes around the food on her plate that she didn't like. 
“I'm sorry, it's just been so awkward walking around here not knowing anyone,” you say to cover up the fact that you want to switch places with the man that arrived with Wanda. She's never mentioned the guy and she shows up in an outfit matching his glasses. It's unbelievable. It's infuriating. 
Wanda’s heart races nervously as she catches your gaze for a moment. She clenches her jaw when you kiss Nebula on the lips. Her pink lipstick stains your lips and she has to clean it off with her thumb. That should be Wanda smiling and removing her lipstick from your lips. She should be the one holding your hand as you walk towards her. Her eyes widen slightly as she realizes that you're walking towards her. 
“So what were you telling me about your friend again?” Wanda asks as she tries to strike up a conversation so that it doesn't look obvious that she's here on a mission. 
“Are they walking towards us?” Matt asks with an amused smirk. 
“Yeah,” Wanda shamelessly admits. She has nothing to hide from Matt. He knows what he's here for. They talked about it at length in the car because she really didn't want to take advantage of him. Matt assured her that really didn't mind. 
“So I was telling my friend, Foggy, that just because I can't see doesn't mean I can't-” 
“Hey Wanda,” you make a point to interrupt their conversation. “Who is this?” You ask as you move your hand from holding Nebula's to holding her hip. 
“Matthew Murdock,” he holds his hand out and you give him a polite shake. “Most people call me Matt. And behind my back some call me Blind Matt,” he jokes and you try to refrain from reacting to his disability. You didn't realize that he was visually impaired. Then you see his guide stick and instantly feel guilty for mentally villainizing him. 
“People tend to call me Queer Y/n when I tell them my preferred pronouns,” you retort to get a laugh out of him. “Although, Wanda made it obvious to everyone when I lost a bet and she chose to cut my hair into a mullet,” you continue and this makes Matt laugh. 
“I haven't thought about a mullet since my accident. And there's not much that I don't miss the sight of but that has to be one of the things I don't miss seeing, no offense,” he says, making the three of you laugh. 
“None taken, I was really happy when she finally gave me the okay to get my haircut again,” you say as you run your fingers through your short hair. 
“That's funny, I didn't know you had to wait for her permission,” Nebula says as she sizes up Wanda. 
“It was her prize from the bet,” you shrug as if the reason was obvious. “Of course I have to ask for permission.” 
“You didn't have to,” Wanda clarifies as she reaches out and squeezes your shoulder with a laugh, “I appreciate that you did but you're just that kind of person.” She looks over at Nebula with what you interpret as a warm smile. “You're very lucky to be dating someone like, Y/n,” she says. 
The song starts to slow down and the singer invites the couples to slow dance on the dance floor since they're all here to enjoy a night off from the kids. Nebula starts to pull you away claiming to love the song that's being performed. You look back at Wanda as you follow Nebula to the dance floor. Her expression looks a little funny to you at first. You lose sight of her as people get in the way and remind yourself that you came here with Nebula. She has your undivided attention. 
Wanda is hit with a pang of jealousy as Nebula pulls you away for a dance. She stops one of the waiters walking past her with a tray full of champagne flutes and she grabs two. She downs both of them and sets them on a nearby table. “How good are you at slow dancing?” She asks Matt. 
“Let's go,” he says as he extends his arm out to her. They make their way to the dance floor and Wanda manages to find a spot where she can watch you. When she notices that she has caught your eye, she smiles at Matt. 
You try not to show your jealousy as you lean back to gaze into Nebula's eyes. She does have very pretty eyes. You smile and she smiles back up at you. The next slow song plays and you recognize it almost immediately. It's one that your daughter likes to play in the car a lot. Your eyes find Wanda who is holding Matt close to her. 
You can't focus on the pain that small act of intimacy is causing you. It's not fair to Nebula. It's not fair to Wanda, who seems very happy. It's not fair to yourself. But you can't tear your eyes away from her. Matt whispers something in her ear that makes her laugh. Even through the loud music and the crowd, her laugh spreads a warmth in your chest. 
Wanda lets Matt spin her around during the song as she allows herself to focus on having fun with him instead. Tonight isn't the night to play games and hope that you ditch your date to be with her. She's an adult and she doesn't need to act like a child. She can have her moment with you another day. Tonight, she's going to have fun with someone that she has no ties to because Matt seems like a really great guy. 
As the second song comes to an end, Wanda ends up facing your direction because of the way Matt spun her and her heart stops. You and Nebula are sharing a kiss but it's different. Your eyes are open and looking for Wanda. Are you playing a game too? She can't do this anymore. She starts to feel overwhelmed under your intense gaze. She wants you to look at her that way but not under these circumstances. She doesn't want to be playing these kinds of games. Not with you. Everything between the two of you hasn't felt as childish as it does right now. 
“I'm sorry, Matt. I need some air,” Wanda says as she lets go of him. She helps him get off of the dance floor before she leaves the building. 
You watch Wanda run out of the event without her date and you stop kissing Nebula. The woman in your arms pulls out the red handkerchief from the breast pocket of your jacket. She wipes your lips and sighs. “Go to her,” she says as she fixes your handkerchief. 
“Nebula I-” 
“Y/n, don't apologize. Go after her. She's your person. It's okay, I knew it was never me. This was fun while it lasted.” She gives you a kind smile as she pats your chest and dusts off your shoulders. 
“You're amazing, you know that?” You say to her, at a loss for words. Not knowing how else to thank her for not making this difficult for you. 
“I do, now go!” She turns you towards the direction of the exit and gives you a small shove. You laugh as you take her advice and start running toward the exit to try and catch Wanda before she gets too far away. 
You look for her in the lobby but it's completely empty. Then you see her at the corner of the street waiting to cross. It's pouring outside but you can't care about that right now. You push the glass door open and run outside. “Wanda!” You call out to her just as a loud clap of thunder overpowers your voice. “Wanda! Wait!” You shout as you run to get closer but the cross signal has given her the go ahead to cross the street. You push yourself to run faster as the storm rages on. 
The street is empty. There are no cars waiting for her to cross. There is no one outside on the sidewalks. This time it is just you and Wanda. So you don't hesitate when you stop her in the middle of the crosswalk and grab her wrist. You spin her so that her body crashes against yours. Neither of you have a moment to process before you press your lips against hers. As you kiss Wanda, you feel her melt in your arms. You feel as though everything in the world is falling into place. You feel a little dizzy kissing her, losing yourself completely in the way her lips collide against yours. Surrendering to the emotions that you’ve been repressing for too long. You love this woman and you can't deny it anymore. 
The kiss breaks when both of you need to come up for air and a car honks at the pair of you. Wanda pulls you onto the sidewalk, across the street from the venue. “What was that?” Wanda shouts once the two of you are safe on the concrete. The rain is still coming down hard and it's not easy to hear without a raised volume.
“I’ve tried so hard to see you as just a friend,”  you shout back, “but I can’t!” Wanda opens her mouth to say something but you don't want her to reject you again. “Before you say anything. Please let me finish. I’ve tried to be with other people. You’ve seen that! But you are the only person I want to be with. I love you, Wanda. I can’t- I won’t take it back this time.” 
“Then don't,” Wanda says as she puts your hand on the back of your neck and pulls you in for another kiss. You excitedly swoop her in your arms and spin her around as you kiss her on the side walk in the pouring rain. 
She giggles as you set her back down and lean your forehead against hers. “Can I take you home?” You ask her feeling a rush of emotions that you can't express out here. You want to be alone with her in a dry setting. 
“Please,” she answers as she smiles up at you. 
Hand in hand, the two of you run across the street to grab your car from the valet. As you wait in the lobby you watch Nebula escorting Matt out and you feel relieved about not having to worry about either of them. When you get into the car with Wanda, she kisses you on the lips again before you can start the engine. You can't believe this is real. But you don't ask her to pinch you. If this is a fantasy, you want to live in it forever. 
Every red light that you hit on the way to her house, the two of you take the moment to kiss. As you drive, you have your hand on her thigh. Wanda almost regrets not wearing a dress so that she could tease you with more exposed skin. But she's also glad that she didn't because with the outfit she did wear, she managed to draw only your attention and not unwanted attention from others. That's what was most important to her. 
It wasn't about being the hottest person in the room for her. It was about being the person that you wanted to leave with.
As the two of you stumble into her home, swept up in the heightened emotions of it all, she starts to get into her head a bit. The two of you fall onto her sofa with you on top. She wants this to work with you. She doesn't want this to end before it begins. As you kiss her neck she almost gives in and allows the two of you to release months of built up tension. But she can't get out of her head now. 
“Wait,” she says as she pushes you back. “Wait, I can't do this right now.” She says between breaths. She hadn't realized how breathless she was until she could hardly catch her breath. She slips her body out from under yours and sits on the couch.
“I'm sorry,” you say as you pant and back away. “I shouldn't have gotten so carried away I thought-” you say as you stand up to leave.
“No wait,” Wanda quickly grabs your hand and tugs on your arm. “Stay, let me… let me collect my thoughts and we can talk.” Her big apologetic eyes pull you in and remove the fear and doubt from your mind. You sit next to her and wait for her to start. You give her the space to think about what she wants to communicate with you. She deserves to have this time. You can wait to hear her out as you sit by her with your fingers laced with hers. Both of you are still soaked from the rain. Her hair isn't as neat as when she arrived to the event and you're certain that you don't look nearly as put together as when you left your apartment. 
“I love you too,” Wanda states first. “I'm in love with you,” her voice waivers this time and you can see tears building up. She clears her throat. “I want to be clear about that first. And I want you to stay with me tonight. I just don't think tonight is the night that we take things all the way.” 
You nod, “Of course,” you say as you release your hand from hers and put your arm around her body. You press the side of your head to the top of hers and take a deep breath as she leans into your side. “Although, I will argue that spending the night would've been made easier if you got me out of these wet clothes. That's all I'm saying,” you jokingly point out and it makes Wanda laugh. 
“That's right,” she looks down at her wet clothes and then at yours. She bites her lips as she thinks of a possible solution but she’s slightly scared of the answer. “Do you have anything in your car?” 
“I didn't pack an overnight bag because my intention was to go home after,” you tell her and kiss her cheek. “How about this,” you start as you pull away to face her as you speak, “I get naked — hold on stay with me now — I get naked. Put the nice stuff on some hangers to air dry and I toss the things I can wear to bed in the dryer. And I hop in the shower so that you're not tempted by me until they're done.” Wanda laughs and rolls her eyes. Your tone is very light and humorous but it's a good suggestion. 
“Okay,” Wanda nods in agreement. 
“So I can sleep in my underwear?” You ask, just to take the extra step in getting her consent. 
“Yes, you can sleep in your underwear,” she stands up from the couch and pulls you up with her. The two of you are giddy and giggle as you climb the stairs together. Neither of you tried to cross a line, you undress in her bathroom with the door shut and she waits until you announce that you're in the shower to collect your clothes. She starts with putting the white under shirt and your boxers into the dryer first before she focuses on properly hanging your clothing. She gets changed into dry clothes and hangs her wet clothing as well. 
When the dryer is done she grabs a towel for you and neatly folds everything before she takes it to the bathroom. She announces that it's there for you when she leaves it. When you step out of the bathroom, she kisses you as she passes you so that she can shower and properly clean her face with her products. 
You text Jean that you're not coming home tonight but you don't tell her who you're with and let her continue to assume that you're with Nebula as you wait for Wanda in her bed. Jean sends you a winking gif then some gifs with innuendos that make you laugh. You set your phone to charge next to Wanda's and settle into the bed that you've missed sleeping in. 
When she joins you, she starts by laying on top of you to kiss you on the lips again. You're happy to respond to the kiss and hold back on growing too eager to turn it into anything more. “I love you,” Wanda says with a bright grin. 
“I love you,” you say while wrapping her in your arms. You close your eyes and sigh. “I'm going to be really mad if this is all a dream,” you mutter, which makes Wanda laugh. 
She looks down at you as her smile slowly drops and not because her happiness has faded but because she wants you to believe her. She wants you to understand that she is serious when she tells you that this isn't a fantasy. “Y/n,” she calls softly, you open your eyes and connect with her loving gaze, “this is real.”
Chapter 21
Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @diealittlesometime @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles @the-ox-fan20 @shaniiwm @casualreadersstuff @neopolitan-torchwick
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chimcess · 6 months ago
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Waterlog || pjm (4)
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Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.8k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, best boyfriend Jimin, did I say angst????, past drug use, past alcohol addiction, past trauma talk, crying, anxiety, hand holding, touching as a love language, Jimin can't keep his hands to himself, he does try his best though, pining, sexual tension, banter, I love these two A/N: I know we're a couple of weeks late updating, but I've been very busy with moving so I haven't had the energy to write. I did a very quick edit, so this might not be perfect. I'm planning on coming back once I'm in my new place to do a full proofread. Hope you like the update!
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Hand clutching my phone, I sighed. All around me the airport buzzed with life. I had almost forgotten how hectic the Denver Airport was. A few feet away I saw a mother struggling to keep her children together while her husband scrolled on his phone. I must have made some sort of noise, subconsciously voicing my annoyance, because Jimin laughed.
“What’s going on, gran?” He teased, voice light. “See a couple of youngins on your lawn?”
I scoffed, tearing my eyes away from the family. “Just a shitty husband ignoring his children.”
He hissed, sucking in air through his teeth, “The worst kind of dude. Are you alright?”
Softening, I finally spotted my luggage on the conveyor belt. Twisting my torso, I did a light stretch and then quickly snatched the heavy bag up. “Not too anxious, right?”
He had been very worried about letting me come home for a visit. When I had originally brought it up he offered himself up for the job, but I was not a fan of that idea. My friends would definitely bring up our date and I did not want to deal with the awkwardness that would cause. Especially since we had yet to go on it. That would not matter to Hoseok, however, and the teasing would have been endless. Better to spare Jimin from their wrath for just a little while longer.
“I’m cool,” I replied, softening. “Just got my stuff from baggage claim. I’m going to let you go so I can call Andy.”
“Okay bug. See you in a few days.”
Harper had recently started calling me that, forgetting my real name and not caring enough to ask for it. Eloise had tried to scold her for it, but I told her I did not mind it. It caught on with Cameron not too long after that, and soon the entire Park family had started using the little nickname. Jimin thought it was adorable from the beginning but had only started using it after our talk the other night.
I laughed, “I’m going to call you tonight.”
“Aw,” I knew he had that stupid smile on his face. “Miss me that much?”
“Someone needs to make sure you’re staying out of trouble,” I replied, a confident pep in my step I had not had in years. “But yes, I do miss you.”
There was a pregnant pause. 
“I miss you too.”
I could feel my heart melting. I was still getting used to our new dynamic. On most days we were strictly business, and were able to set aside the very large, very apparent elephant in the room. It was not until we had finished with work that those roles dropped, and we were able to just be us. 
Ever since my confession in the car Jimin spoke a hell of a lot more. Apparently, he had a hard time keeping his feelings to himself and chose to talk a little less in order to avoid a slip up. He wanted to give us both a little bit of time to get to know one another before springing his crush on me.
“Going soft, kid?” Playing things off with humor was Jimin’s thing, but it had slowly started to rub off on me. “It’s only two days.”
“I know,” He pouted. “Call your friend. It’s cold and you’ll get sick.”
“Hey,” I cut the teasing tone I had, “You’re not upset I came here by myself, right?”
“No,” He chuckled with an unmistakable fondness. “I’m just messin’ with you. I’m not ready to meet your friends and you need some alone time. We’re good, I promise.”
I sighed in relief, “Okay. Good. I’m going to go now. Talk to you later?”
“Call me when you can,” He replied, voice light.
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye, bug.”
I was disappointed to hear the line go dead but knew I could aimlessly walk around this airport all day if given the chance, so long as he was there with me. Trying to get my thoughts back on track, I sent a text to Andy asking if she was here yet. If not, I was already making plans to call Jimin back.
Andy: I’m parked in 5 near C Gates
Andy: Be careful
Andy: Saw a lady almost get hit by a car just now
Me: See you in a sec
Me: Should I be worried?
I knew she was trying to make a joke, but car accident punchlines never went over all that well with me. Even if I knew the chances of that happening to me were almost zero, I really did not want to have a panic attack in the airport parking lot. 
Andy: Not at all. I’m so sorry for even saying anything. I can come meet you at the doors if you want.
Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Sigh of relief. I was fine. 
Me: I appreciate you
Me: Is babygirl here?
Dani would help the spike of anxiety dissipate. The girl was fearless and was sure to be distracting enough to keep me from paying attention to the oncoming traffic. I suddenly wished that Jimin was here. He always knew what to do.
Andy: Jin and I are weak
Andy: We let her play hooky
Bobbing and weaving through bodies, I tossed my phone into my purse and made my way out of the airport. The arrivals station was packed, and I would need to take the automated train to where Andrea was parked. It was my least favorite part about this airport, but it beat Dallas-Fort Worth by a landslide. I had gotten lost in that airport more times than I could count. 
Three minutes later I was getting out of the train and stepping into C Gates. I could smell Auntie Anne’s and felt my mouth begin to water. Checking my clock, I decided it would not hurt to make a quick spot for lunch. Andy would appreciate it and I knew Dani loved their pretzel dog. 
There was a little less traffic in C Gates. More of the expensive airlines let out here, and all you could see were business professionals pacing back and forth. A family on vacation bumped into me while I was waiting in line, and I almost gave up my spot when their toddler started screaming. 
“No, no,” His mother insisted, her hair a mess on the top of her head. “Between the girls and my mom, we’ll be here all day. Go ahead, sweetie.”
Two little girls danced around me as we waited, the line moving at a snail's pace due to the airport being understaffed. They asked me questions incessantly, and while their mother had tried her best to keep them in line, I told her I was fine with the extra attention. I loved kids and the girls were harmless. The boy in her arms kept repeating “pizza” and soon an elderly woman joined them. 
If the girls talked a lot, they had nothing on grandma. Not only did she never shut her mouth, she was loud and obnoxiously laughing every few seconds. The boy was quick to beg to be in her arms and mom got a break. She was back to attempting to corral the girls, but again they did not really listen. 
“They’re only like this when my mom’s around,” She sighed, frustrated and tired. “We’re meeting up with their father and they’re all a little restless.”
“It’s no bother,” I lied. The girls really were not that bad. Just a couple of four-year-olds having fun. The only person who was really getting on my nerves was her mother, but I was not about to say that. “Better to get it out now than in the car, right?”
She cracked a tired smile, “Right.”
Finally, it was my turn to order. The young girl behind the counter gave me an award-winning smile while another young blonde was in the back getting all of the orders out.
“Hi, welcome to Auntie Anne’s. How can I help you today?”
“Can I get one original pretzel, one cinnamon sugar pretzel, and a pretzel dog combo with a lemonade and cheese,” Glancing behind me, I sighed. “Throw in a pizza pretzel, two orders of pretzel nuggets, and whatever else the family behind me wants.”
She smiled, blue eyes twinkling prettily in the bright lights. Turning around I waved the mother over and told her to get something for her and her mother. She put up a small fight, but eventually gave in when she realized I had already put our orders together.
“Thank you so much,” I thought she might burst into tears when my card was approved. “You really didn’t need to do that.”
I shrugged, “It was nothing. Have a nice vacation.”
Walking to the pickup area, my order was already waiting for me. With nothing more than a simple wave, I left the dysfunctional family behind. The grandmother’s loud thank you seemed to echo off of the airport walls, but it was a little less grating now that I knew I would never hear it again. 
Andy threw herself at me when I finally made it outside, little Dani wrapping her arms around my legs with squeals of delight louder than her mother’s. Taking her pretzel, Andy gave me a fat, wet kiss on the cheek and told Dani she could eat in the car. 
“How’s gymnastics, girlie?” I asked the little girl once we were in the car. “Still kicking ass?”
“No,” She laughed. “I quit, like, forever ago. Appa put me in ballet classes.”
I gave Andy a look. The red head rolled her eyes, fixing me with a knowing look. I had been telling Jin to put her in dance for years.
“It’s been two weeks and she’s already trying to talk him into figure skating.”
“You’re a little hustler, huh?” I reached into the back, squeezing her knee. Dani giggled, angling her body away from mine. She was very ticklish. “Keep at it. You know your dad’s a sucker.”
Dani laughed, “My vovó says the same thing.”
We listened to Olivia Rodrigo on our way to the Kim house. Hoseok and Matilda had planned a huge coming back party for me, and from what it sounded like, I was going to meet Tilly’s new boyfriend. 
“Anything I need to know about Max?” I asked.
Andy was almost as in the dark about the guy as I was but was able to tell me he was a tattoo artist from California. The two of them met at Frank’s bookstore and by the end of their conversation Max had managed to get her out to dinner and in his bed. It was a whirlwind romance, one that made me feel uneasy about its foundation, but I was still obligated to be happy for my friend. They could be soulmates for all I knew, and I was not about to judge anybody else for their version of a first date.
“I don’t want to talk about tattoo guy anymore,” Andy whined playfully, turning up the radio when “Good 4 U” came on. “I need to know more about your little boyfriend.”
I groaned, “He’s not my boyfriend.”
This was why I was so adamant Jimin stayed away. We had yet to have a real talk about what we were, choosing to wait for our first date to iron out those details, but no one in my circle seemed to understand. All they heard was the word date and suddenly wedding bells started going off. 
“Stop deflecting. We both know he’s your boyfriend, official or not,” She laughed, stealing looks at her daughter in the rearview. “What’s he like?”
It was a hard question to answer. On the one hand, I felt like I knew him better than anybody else, but I was self aware enough to know I didn’t. His body language, the way he looked when he beat his best time, and all of his preferred gear were seared into my mind. The movies he liked, his favorite albums, and all of the best tv shows ever made. He went to college. He was the sweetest, kindest, most understanding person I had ever met, and yet… he still felt far away. The shadows that oftentimes clouded his vision were still a mystery to me, and when he came into practice with a lost look on his face, I felt helpless. I knew him and yet I didn’t.
“He’s quiet,” I finally landed on. “Very nice. Always willing to help other people out if he can. You’d like him.”
Andrea scoffed, “That’s it? The first guy you’ve dated in years and all you can tell me is I’d like him?”
“We’re still getting to know each other,” I sighed. “What do you want to know?”
We spent the rest of the car ride going over the last two months' worth of pining. I told her about Fiona, Jimin’s family, and all of my new friends. She almost pissed herself laughing when I told her about the night he asked me out, making so many Hoseok and Tilly jokes I had a difficult time focusing on the story. Andrea seemed to be finished with her interrogation when we pulled up at her house. 
Dani ran to the front door, her excitement about the party making any discomfort I had disappear. It was hard to feel uncomfortable with her around. Taking my hand in hers, the little girl shifted her weight from foot to foot, shouting at her mom to hurry up, and opening the front door anyway. Andy told her to calm down, and I just chuckled and went along with it.
The living room was filled with all of my favorite people, a large ‘welcome home’ sign hanging on the large, backwall. Underneath it was a huge table covered in food, a cake in the middle of it, and I had a feeling Sarah made it. Both her and Frank were the first people to notice me, their faces lighting up, and I let go of Dani’s hand in favor of embracing the elderly couple. The rest of the party comers erupted their voices loud and filled with love as they took turns passing me around. 
“Missed you, Otter,” Hoseok murmured in the crook of my neck, hands secured around my waist.
“Missed you more,” I replied, releasing him and catching Tilly. “Jeez, girl. Trying to kill me?”
“Come meet Max,” She replied, dragging me away from Hoseok.
Max was a tall, lanky guy with black hair that fell down his back. His clothes were on the baggier side, all black, and I recognized the band on his t-shirt from the shit Matilda liked to listen to in the car. He smiled at me, and I was surprised to see him rocking adult braces. He introduced himself, his voice deep and warm, and shook my hand. They were baby soft and covered in tattoos. 
“It’s great to see you,” I replied, genuinely meaning it. If I had to picture a guy more perfect for Tilly, I would come up empty handed. “Thanks for coming.”
He flushed, impossibly pale skin turning a bright shade of red reminding me of Jimin. 
“Anything for Mattie,” He replied.
Huh, he had his own nickname for her and everything. I would need to hang out with Max more before I could say if I liked him or not, but so far, I had a good feeling. Andrea’s worries seemed a bit silly now. They really liked each other, and Tilly’s heartbreaking, dimpled smile made me feel more confident in her partner. They would be just fine. 
The party was fun, and I ate more spinach and artichoke dip than was healthy. Hoseok and I talked about my afterschool visit tomorrow. The boys had a swim meet Saturday and the two of us were hoping we could tag team in order to iron out any issues they had been having. I was being placed in charge of the freshmen while Hoseok made sure the other kids were feeling confident and ready for the meet.
"Let's party!" Frank boomed, lifting a beer into the air.
I laughed, "Be careful, old timer. Don't want you to hurt yourself."
I thought of Jimin again. That sounded like something he would say. Surrounded by the people I loved, I laughed hard and partied harder. The plates of food came one right after the other, and I was happy that I still had a place here. Falling back into my step, I fit seamlessly back into the fold.
"Dance with me," Hoseok demanded, tipsy and red-faced.
"It's your toes," I replied, taking his head and letting him take the lead.
The other couples were already dancing and hooped and hollered as I awkwardly followed the steps. I was not always a bad dancer but lost some of my rhythm in the accident. Hoseok never minded and let me step on his feet without a single complaint.
"You look happy," He commented, spinning me around.
I smiled, "I am."
He smiled back, wincing when I stomped down on his toes again. I apologized, but he just held my hand a little tighter and kept moving. I hummed along to the song, filled with joy. He spun me again, and finally let me go when I slammed into Jin.
"Go get some cake or something," He laughed. "You're too dangerous to be out here."
I rolled my eyes, "I tried to tell you. It's your fault you don't listen."
"Don't need you anyway. I have enough swag for the both of us."
I watched, thoroughly amused from the sidelines, as he moon-walked around the living room.
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I left just before midnight after staying behind to help Andy and Jin clean up. The others left a few hours before to get back to Denver at a decent time. My house looked the same as always, dark and empty, but I could tell the landscapers had been around. The grass was recently cut and edged.
The silence inside was deafening. I had always known my place was too big for one person, but after spending so much time in my little she-shed at the Andersons’ house, everything here just felt excessive. Tossing my keys in the bowl beside the door, I wiped my eyes and decided to just head to bed. I would only be here for three days. I would be back in Saline before I knew it.
Dragging my body upstairs, this sudden depression-filled fatigue made my shoulders feel ten times heavier. A chilling, almost insidious, hollowness began to spread across my body. I knew this feeling all too well and it made me feel pathetic. Could I not be on my own anymore? Had I really grown that attached to my life in Michigan? Finally getting into my bedroom, I realized that I had.
Saline was perfect. Living in Colorado Springs has always bothered me. The people here held more traditional values and making friends was difficult. I had Andy and Jin, but they were both very busy people. Andrea was a full-time nurse, Jin’s schedule was somehow even more erratic than his wife’s, and when they were off, they wanted to spend time with Dani. I was lucky if I saw them once every two weeks. 
Hoseok, Tilly, and Minho all lived in Denver, and while I saw them more often due to the meetings with Frank and Sarah dragging me into the city, it was not like we hung out every time I was out there. Days would go by with me speaking at all, and most of my weekends were spent in bed sleeping. Working at the school helped, but I would never claim anyone from the swim team to be a friend. I was not in the habit of befriending children.
Living in Saline was different. Jimin was always there to make me laugh, and when he wasn’t, I had people like Taehyung and Sam to keep me company. Giselle was young, but we got along so well I often forgot about the difference in age between the two of us. Megan and Yoongi were Michigan’s own version of Andy and Jin, and I could see myself becoming good friends with them given enough time. No one had kids, no one was too busy trying to keep up with crazy expenses, and I could find a little house away from the rest of the world to spend my life in.
I thought of the Parks, a family who I had come to love more than I thought was possible, and the Andersons who took me in and always tried to make me feel comfortable. Eloise and her kindness. Luna and Cameron. All of them. I loved and adored every single one of them, and it was then that I finally let myself really think about what I wanted.
Did I want to come back here after I was finished with the season? Did I really want this massive house if it meant I had no one to share it with? No, I decided. Stripping out of my clothes, the numbness was being replaced with a different strange feeling. It felt suspiciously like hope. Excitement came to me so rarely it was foreign and odd, but nice all the same. Jittery, I took my phone out of my pants pocket.
“Hello?” Jimin’s voice was scratchy when he finally picked up.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “Did I wake you up?”
“Yes, but it’s okay,” I could hear him shuffling around in his bed. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah,” I breathed, climbing into bed. Then, without thinking, I blurted, “I think I want to move to Michigan.”
I held my breath as I waited for his response. There was no telling how this conversation would go, but I was hopeful. Even if this whole date thing did not go very well, I was positive that we would be able to move past it with a little bit of time. We worked well together and if he was comfortable with it then we could continue working together. Regardless, there was always coaching at a school.
“Like, permanently?”
I nodded but after a moment of silence remembered he could not see me.
“Yeah.”
My stomach started to churn. As the silence on the other end began to stretch, the excitement I felt before faded. Even if I said Jimin and I could get past a potentially awkward break up of sorts, I would not pretend that the thought did not make me physically ill. We would never be the same if that happened. It would be something to think about if it came to pass before the Olympics was over.
“Did something happen?” He finally asked, and I could hear the genuine worry in his tone. “Are you okay?”
The fear shifted to hurt, irritation, and anger, making my eyebrows knit together.
“I’m fine,” I could not keep the bite from my voice. It was petty and wrong of me, but his insinuation that I was not in my right mind was insulting. It made me feel like a child. “Just- forget I said anything. I don’t know what I’m even talking about.”
“Don’t do that,” His steady calmness made me even angrier. “I’m only asking you because it came out of the blue, not because I’m not happy with the idea.”
Now I just felt silly. Here I was making these small revelations, waking him up from his sleep, and then getting snippy because he did not respond the way I had wanted him to. Ugh, I wasn’t even his girlfriend yet and I’m acting like Darcy. A shiver went down my spine. That was an insult above all others.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, the attitude from a few seconds before gone as quickly as it came. “I got defensive for no reason. Sorry.”
He chuckled, the sound barely audible over the phone.
“I forgive you. Now, why do you want to pack your life up for good?”
That made me laugh. It was a sad, pitiful sound. One that did not hold my usual spunk. One I don’t think Jimin had ever heard before. It was impossible to feel sad when he was around.
“I forgot how quiet my house is,” I admitted softly. “I love my friends, but I think coming back just reminded me of how easily I was able to fall back into the routine of it all. Jin and Andy are parents, Tilly has a new boyfriend, and Hoseok and Minho are always so busy with their own lives that I don’t see any of them as often as I would like to.”
Turning on my side, I blinked back a few tears.
“It might sound stupid, but I really do love Saline. I like how busy I am and all of my friends. I bought this place with the hopes of kids and a dog one day, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen, and now it’s just rooms collecting dust. I just-” I let a tear fall, my emotions starting to bubble over. “I don’t like how lonely it feels out here.”
“Doesn’t sound like you like it there. Have you always felt like this?” He asked.
I shook my head, the tears free falling in between sniffles and shaky breaths.
“Not always. Ever since Namjoon died things have been weird. There was a point when I felt suffocated because no one would leave me alone, and then one day everything resumed, and I just got left behind. It was like I woke up and two years just passed me by.”
Jimin comforted me while I cried, telling me how much he hated to hear me so upset, while I worked on calming down. There had been a time in my life when I was not so emotional, but therapy had opened up a whole new side of myself I didn't know existed. Rubbing my face, I sniffled and sank deeper into my mattress. For now, the waterworks had stopped.
“You were recovering,” He soothed. “Your body needed time to heal, and you were traumatized. I don’t think anyone can blame you for zoning out for a bit.”
I hummed, “I know. Doesn’t make it easier to swallow.”
“I know how you feel. When I pulled out of the Olympics last time there was a part of me that felt like a huge failure, but my dad was there to help get my head back on straight. He doesn’t seem like it, but he’s a really great shoulder to cry on.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” My voice was like sandpaper. “James is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”
I felt heavy. Worn. Used. My eyes begged for me to shut them, but we were just getting back into safer waters, and I didn’t want to burst the bubble. I yawned, covering my mouth and hoping Jimin could not hear the sound. He had gone quiet.
“Can I ask you something?” Jimin’s voice broke through the comfortable silence that had formed around us. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“Shoot,” I forced myself to smile.
“What happened to Namjoon?”
I closed my eyes. This was something I knew would come up sooner or later. My lip wobbled uncontrollably as the second wave of tears crashed over me. I hated talking about this, but I knew it was going to come up sooner or later. Jimin deserved the truth, and honestly, I wanted to tell him. Being vulnerable with someone felt good. Being vulnerable with Jimin was divine. He was always so ready and willing to go along with things, listening and watching my every move, and trying his best to understand me. It was refreshing. It was nice. It was familiar.
“Was he in the accident with you?” He asked and his voice was so, so gentle. 
“Yeah,” I croaked, finally finding my voice. “I went out with some of my friends and got pretty drunk. I was tired and ready to go home, but my ride didn’t want to go home yet. So, I called Joon.”
I sucked in a deep, loud breath. Jimin told me I could stop, that I didn’t owe him anything, but I ignored him. This wasn’t about owing him. This was about letting the guy I liked get to know me. This story was a part of who I was, as fucked up as that may sound, and I wanted him to get to know this facet of my life as deeply as he knew the present day one. 
“Anyway,” I continued. “He offered to come and pick me up. Twenty minutes later I’m getting into his car and we’re on our way home. We’d just gotten engaged and bought our first house together- things were perfect. I had never been happier.
“We ended up taking the long way home because of an accident on the interstate. It was my idea, and Namjoon had a knack for going along with whatever I wanted. We were only two minutes away from the house when we got hit.”
I took a few deep breaths and wiped my face. Jimin was quiet on the other end. After a minute or two, I jumped back into the story.
“There was a four-way intersection around the corner from our place. Our light was green when we drove up. I don't think he thought to check if there was another car coming. He never even saw the truck. He, uh, died on impact.”
“Jesus,” Jimin breathed.
“The other guy was drunk as hell behind the wheel. Not paying attention. Funny thing is, he was the only person who didn’t get critically injured. Just a broken arm and a concussion. He wrapped our car around a light pole. My leg was pinned between the car and the light, and the airbag is what caused the brain injury.”
Jimin cursed under his breath, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry that happened to you.”
“Yeah,” I gritted out. “Me too.”
He let me cry for a little while, saying over and over again how sorry he was and how he wished he was in Colorado with me. I did not have anything to say to him. It felt like my chest had been ripped open and my heart was on full display. 
I never questioned how quickly we went from barely talking, to joking around, to sitting up late at night on the phone talking about life. It just happened. Clutching my phone in my hand, I let out a deep breath and held back any more tears from falling. I never said it, but I wished he was here, too.
“Hey,” His voice was gentle when he spoke, so fragile and sweet, that I had to force down the sobs threatening to come out. “I just want to say I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier. You wanting to move here is probably the best thing I’ve heard all fucking year, but I just didn’t want to sway your decision.”
Sniffling, I tried to tell him I wasn’t upset, but he shut me down almost immediately.
“Let me finish,” His voice did not leave room for argument. “I know I don’t act like I’m insecure, but I am. I can be selfish and self-centered, and I’ve always had to really work on those parts of myself.”
“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything,” I mumbled, curling into a ball beneath my blankets. 
“Like I said, I can be a very selfish person,” He sighed. “There was this part of my brain just wanting to hear you say you were coming here and staying with me for forever. I didn’t want that to take over the narrative. And- no offense, but if you did move all the way out here just to date me, I think I’d be a little creeped out honestly.”
I snorted. Hearing that he felt the need to explain any of that to me felt like a small win, even if it did make an alarm go off in my head. It took courage to be that open and honest with another person, especially someone who just cried their eyes out. His compassion and understanding never failed to amaze me, and I was grateful he trusted me enough to let me into his mind for once. Still, it did not make the creep comment any less funny.
“Don’t laugh,” He whined, unable to stop himself from chuckling. “I’m being serious.”
“So do you want me to be a creepy stalker or not?” I joked, hoping to lighten up the mood. “Make up your mind, kid.”
“I think I just want you to be yourself,” I melted. “That’s been working out just fine so far. I mean, if you are a creepy stalker, you managed to get me to like you.”
“Mission accomplished,” I breathed, still reeling from his sweet words. “You better watch out, 007. There’s a new spy in town.”
“So, I’m Bond and you’re Joe Goldburg?”
“Exactly,” My cheeks hurt from how much I was smiling. “Penn Badgley would be a decent James Bond. He was really great in Margin Call.”
I bit my lip, trying to suppress my smile.
“Holy shit, you actually watched it?”
Margin Call was one of Jimin's favorite movies from 2011. He kept a very large notebook filled with all of the movies he’s ever seen, along with ratings, and if he should ever watch them again. He went through it one day and came across the action film, rewatched it, and then spent most of the day talking my ear off about how great it is. 
“Someone I know was very passionate about it, and it managed to pique my curiosity.”
Jimin sighed, but I could not tell what emotion was behind it. Definitely was not anger or frustration. Not sadness either. 
 “What time are you getting back on Sunday?” He asked, and I could definitely hear the affectionate tone his voice had taken on.
“Um,” I thought about it for a moment. “Six, I think.”
“PM?” 
“Yeah,” I curled up under my blankets. It was beginning to get really cold inside, but I did not want to get up to turn the heat on. “I have to double check my flight times, but I know it’s somewhere around there. Why? What’s up?”
“I know we already made plans for next week, but I was thinking I could pick you up from the airport and we could go out.”
My face grew hot, “I don’t think I’ll be dressed for a date.”
“You always look great,” He assured me.
I laughed, nervous and embarrassed, “Thanks.”
We had originally planned our first date to be the weekend after I got back. Jimin was adamant about giving me an experience, and I had been more than happy to indulge him a little. He was just so cute when he got excited. We were running on a limited timeline right now, though, since he had an upcoming swimming fundraiser with Swim Across America in Allendale. The team was raising money for cancer research, and I was very excited to be there to show my support.
Moving the date up meant we would have less to do next weekend, unless Jimin still wanted to keep our plans in place, but it meant we could focus on the fundraiser instead of trying to juggle a date at the same time. 
“I hate to go, but I’m really tired,” Jimin yawned. Pulling my phone away from my ear I was startled by how late it was. “I’ll text you in the morning, okay?”
I apologized for keeping him up so late. “Promise I won’t do it again.”
He hummed, already beginning to fall asleep, “Don’t mind. You’re always welcome to bother me in the middle of the night.”
“Night Jimin,” I whispered, blood pumping.
“Night bug.”
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There was one thing I missed about Colorado- how quickly the snow melted. Michigan was seeing more snow as each day went by, but here in the mountains they would not start seeing the worst of it until the spring. For the first time in a month, I was able to forgo my large, puffy jacket in favor of a long sleeve and jeans. Jimin found my excitement over this endearing, sending a slew of heart-eye emojis in response to the mirror photo I sent him.
It was almost the end of the day when I pulled into the high school parking lot. The entire front office erupted in excitement when I walked through the front doors, hugs and well wishes overwhelming me. Sandra, the receptionist, could have talked all day if I let her, and after signing in, I politely told them all I needed to meet up with Coach Jung. I lied about stopping by on my way out and only felt a little bad about it. They were way too much for me.
“They’re going to be so excited to see you,” Hoseok mumbled, a smile stretching across his face as loud teenage boys got closer and closer to the pool house. 
“I’m happy to see them, too,” I replied. “Should we wait until they change to make the grand reveal?”
He shook his head. “Would you rather hug now or when they’re in speedos.”
I shivered, disgusted by the mental image.
“Thanks for putting that in my head, you sick fuck.”
Choking on his spit, Hoseok bent over, laughing so hard he started to screech. His laughter reminded me of a ghost's wail and was contagious. We were both so wrapped up in our little bubble we did not notice the doors opening.
“Coach?”
Wiping my cheeks, I caught my breath and made eye contact with Jordan. Baby blue eyes widened while a large, dimple smile overtook his face. Behind him, Gabriel announced that I was here, and the room was filled with excitement. I was not much of a hugger, but I was happy to greet each boy with one. Gabriel hadn’t stopped speaking since catching sight of me and had a few accidental slip ups about how much he disliked Coach Jung.
Hoseok had alluded to that being their main issue right now. The boys were having a hard time adjusting to a new face and missed me dearly. To his credit, Hoseok admitted that he was still getting used to the coaching thing and made a couple mistakes his first few days here. He had made it a point to apologize to them for being a dick, but the teens hadn’t forgotten or forgiven him for his snappy attitude. Especially the two oldest.
“When are you coming back?” Marcus asked. 
I smiled sadly, “I’ll be out for the rest of the year.” The tall boy deflated, sending a nasty look Hoseok’s way. “But,” I was quick to fix my mistake, “I’m planning on making trips to assist Coach Jung throughout the year. I wanted to be here for your last meet, but something came up.”
That something had been Jimin’s birthday, and I was not going to risk missing his party.
Regardless, Marcus and the team were very happy to hear they would be seeing me. 
“I promise I’ll be here for graduation, too,” I added.
Gabriel offered to give me one of his tickets and I gratefully accepted the extended offer. We stood there and talked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally told them to get changed and into the water. Without protest, all twelve of them went to the locker room.
“You know,” Hoseok chuckled. “You're going to have to teach me how you manage to do that.”
“Cinnamon buns from Mountain Shadows,” I put on my whistle and grabbed my clipboard from my duffel bag. “They’ll be eating out of your hand in no time.”
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The team was glowing. Jordan stood in the middle of the boys, a large smile on his face, as he praised them for giving the meet their best effort. Having another win under their belt, all of them were buzzing with excitement at a chance at nationals. They only needed to win three more competitions to qualify. 
For the first time since I arrived, the icy contempt they held for Hoseok seemed to thaw. It brought a smile to my face. If I did not come back next year, I had a feeling the boys would be getting along much better. 
“What’s for dinner?” Marcus asked, looking at me for an answer.
“Coach said something about burgers,” I replied, gesturing towards Hoseok. “You should ask him though. I could be wrong.”
Gabriel chimed in, “Yeah, we’re going to Bingo.”
My mouth watered. Bingo Burger was one of the best spots in town. Their fries were hot and crispy, and I loved their shakes. Mulling over my options for dinner, I always found myself stuck between the Gone Shroomin’ Burger and the Happy Hippie. For a vegan burger, that thing was really fucking good. Then again, a thick, juicy beef patty smothered in bacon, cheese, and mushrooms would hit the spot. Indecisive and bored, I fiddled around with my phone and somehow ended up texting Jimin.
Me: Gone Shroomin’ or Happy Hippie?
The noise on the bus was just in the background now and easy to tune out. Hoseok was laughing loudly with the freshmen while the two seniors were in a quiet conversation in the seat in front of me. Marcus and his girlfriend broke up recently. I stopped paying attention once my phone vibrated.
Jimin: No idea what that means
Jimin: Gone Shroomin I guess
I bit my lip, suppressing a smile.
Me: We’re going for celebration burgers
Me: The boys won and Hobi is treating them since we’re out in Pueblo and not getting back to the Springs until after dinner.
Jimin: Speaking of food… I was thinking we could get some BBQ on Sunday
“Y/N!” Hoseok called, making me look up from my phone. “Tell your boyfriend you’ll call him later.”
“We need you to be the tiebreaker,” Twig chirped.
“What for?” I sighed, glancing down at my screen.
Jimin: Have you been to Union Rec yet? It’s BBQ and a taqueria
Me: No but I’m always down for a burrito
“Do mermaids have gills?” Twig asked.
Fully pulled out of my phone, I flipped it around and gave the boys my undivided attention. 
“Of course not. They’re mammals, so it would be a blowhole.”
Hoseok clapped his hands, “Thank you! That’s exactly what I said.”
Sliding further down in the booth, I closed my eyes and drowned them out again. Colorado’s air was so dry and crisp I was having to get used to the altitude change. I missed how wet and cold Michigan was. Smiling to myself, I remembered how much I hated it when I first landed. So much has changed…
Shuffling, I made myself more comfortable. We were only thirty minutes out from the Springs now, and we would be at Bingos right on time for Hoseok’s reservations. Feeling myself growing tired, I sunk even further into the booth. Eyes heavy, I let them slip closed, and slept for the rest of the bus ride.
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Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I smoothed down my skirt for the millionth time. The gray sweater I had thrown on seemed too casual now that I was looking at myself, but I did not know what else to do. It was a laundry day, but when I went to put my clothes in the dryer it refused to turn on. Violet said they needed a new one anyway, but that did little to improve my mood. The pretty red dress I wanted to wear was soaking wet and hanging from the shower rod to dry. I played with the skin on my lip, willing the black and gray outfit to somehow look nicer. On the other side of the phone, Andy sighed.
“You look fine,” She insisted, running her hand through her auburn hair. “Do a cute hairstyle and put on a nice pair of earrings, and you’ll be golden.”
“You don’t think it’s too plain?” I had asked her this five times now, and each time I got that same reply. “I mean, do I look like I’m going to a funeral?”
“The guy has seen you in sweats and no makeup and still wanted to take you out. Do you honestly think he cares about the color of your outfit?”
She had a point. Finally deciding to cave in and give up on my obsession, I took her advice to do something with my hair. A few of the strands were beginning to look silver, and my sideburns were looking paler every day, but after Hoseok told me he was starting to see a few grays, I decided to leave them be. If we were both going to be silver foxes, I liked the idea of doing it together.
“Are you wearing heels?”
“No,” I shook my head. I picked my phone up and went to my bedroom to find a pair of earrings. “It’s too icy. Silver or gold?”
She thought about it for a second, her face scrunched up cutely. 
“Silver.”
I landed on some thick, gun-metal hoops. They matched the color of the sweater perfectly and did not take away from my face too much. I had spent too much time on looking this nice to have an accessory dominate. Andy was happy with my choice.
I had gotten back a little earlier than I originally thought I would, and asked Jimin if it was okay that I meant him at the restaurant out here instead of making him drive all the way to Detroit to pick me up. He had put up a bit of a fight about it but relented when I said I was hoping we could hang out at his house after dinner. I said I wanted to get myself home, but I was really trying to see how bad the drive was from his place to mine. The thought of spending more time in his space made me feel like a teenage girl.
“How’s ballet going?” I slipped on a pair of black tights. It was freezing outside, and I wanted to have as many layers on as possible. “Has Dani made any progress in getting her figure skating career started?”
Andrea laughed but said that her daughter was getting closer to her goal every day. Jin was weak and did anything the little girl wanted if he could. This was the only issue they were both bull-headed about. Jin wanted to teach her to be responsible and follow through on things, and Dani was tired of preparing for figure skating. She wanted to be on the ice and her dad was afraid of pushing her too far too young. I was most definitely a team Dani instigator, and it was a point of contention between Seokjin and I.
“What did you think of Max?”
I smiled. That boy was definitely a character. The gang and I had a nice dinner before I left Colorado, and Tilly brought along Mr. Tattoo guy. He was quiet and when he did talk, he always had something completely random and out of the blue to say. He fascinated me and when everyone started huddling in their own groups to chat, I turned most of my attention to the new guy. 
He was a sweetheart, and it was a nice change of pace getting to know him. He hated being called Peter (his first name), went to college for nuclear engineering, and became a tattoo artist on a whim. A buddy of his wanted a new piece, paid Max to draw it, and trusted the guy with a tattoo gun. He was an apprentice in San Francisco for three years before moving to Denver to open up his own shop. For all of his eccentricity, he was very successful and down to Earth.
“He’s good for her,” I finally replied, zipping up my Doc Martens, I checked the time. I would have to leave soon. “I’m just happy there’s no drama between her and Hobi.”
It had been a year since they officially broke up, but I knew they fell into bed with one another a handful of times since then. Hoseok and I had talked about their weird relationship on one too many drunken nights, the swimmer the only person able I liked enough to force a glass of whiskey down. Tilly knew that I knew and would vent to me sometimes. They loved each other, knew one another better than anybody else, and it was easy to fall back into each other since we were in the same circle.
 I doubted Andy knew anything about that, we tried our best to keep her out of the loop, but she always said that they still had lingering feelings. I hoped Hoseok was handling this news well. He seemed fine, happy even, so I just rolled with it. If he had a problem, I was sure I would have heard about it by now.
“Speaking of Hoseok,” The humorous tone in Andy’s voice caught my full attention. “Apparently, Jin saw him at The Rabbit Hole with some blonde girl before you got into town. He just remembered to tell me last night.”
This was news to me. Wracking my brain, I tried to figure out if he had brought up a date, or even a person he might be interested in, but nothing came up. Shrugging, I let it go. It was probably just some girl he picked up at the bar. Still, that would be an expensive date.
“He hasn’t told me anything about that,” I murmured.
“Might be why he’s not bothered by new boyfriend.”
I laughed, “Or it could be that they’ve moved on.”
“Oh, please,” She pulled a face, eyes rolling to the back of her head. “We all know that’s not true. At least, not until recently.”
“Regardless,” I sighed, grabbing my purse and walking out of the front door. “It’s none of our business. If they’re happy that’s all that matters.”
Andy raspberried, “Boo. I hate it when you’re all mature and adult-like.”
“And right,” I joked. “Don’t forget about that part.”
Locking up my little house, I made my way through the Anderson’s. Violet was watching the Golden Girls on the couch while Calvin was reading a book beside her. It was a sweet scene that made me smile. I wanted what they had. 
I gave them a smile and wave as I passed by. Violet returned it in full, her eyes kind and gentle, before going back to her show. Calvin put his book down and asked what time I was planning on coming back. He wanted to keep an eye out for my car.
“Around midnight,” I replied, moving my phone away from my mouth. Andrea was rambling about the new doctor on staff. I trusted her disdain enough to know he was a huge dick. “See you two tomorrow.”
“Be safe out there,” He replied, going back to his copy of The Catcher and the Rye.
Andy and I were on the phone for the entire car ride into Ann Arbor. I enjoyed hearing her voice, the small distraction welcome when I felt my anxiety spike. Thankfully it was a Sunday night, and the streets were somewhat empty.
Once I got into the downtown area, I drowned out her voice completely. Andrea never minded. She just kept talking like I hadn’t stepped out of whatever conversation we were just having. Never got mad when I kept asking her to repeat herself either. She was a wonderful friend to me, and I was grateful to have her in my life. If I moved to Saline, she would be the person I missed the most.
I still hadn’t talked to anyone else about the possibility of moving. I was not sure how they would react, and I needed to have my mind made up before giving any of them the news. While I knew Andy and Jin would be supportive, and Tilly and Minho wouldn’t really care all that much (it just gave them an excuse to vacation in Michigan), it was Hoseok I was most on the fence about.
With him it could go either way. He would either be really happy and supportive or call me crazy. It came from a place of love, and I respected his opinion more than any of the others, so I had to be completely sure of myself before getting into something like that with him. If he thought for a second I was rushing into things he would go into overprotective, big brother mode and kill all of my excitement. He might even be able to change my mind if he fought hard enough. 
Pulling up to the restaurant, I was impressed by the sheer size of it. One half looked like an old warehouse while the other half was a small, white bricked building. A red neon sign glowed in the night and a large party was hanging out outside of the building. I could see Jimin in their little group and smiled. He was a very popular man in this area and was able to make new friends wherever he went. If I had to guess, he knew someone and is now best friends with all of them.
“Hey, I just got to the restaurant. I’m going to let you go.”
“Okay, baby,” Andy replied. “Have fun. Talk to you later.”
“Text you when I get home,” I replied. 
Andy was as hypervigilant about getting texts as I was. She was on staff at the hospital when Namjoon and I first arrived. I can’t remember anything from that night after getting in Joon’s car, but when Jin and I spoke about it he said Andy was one of the nurses having to help triage me. She had to be physically pulled away from my body once the doctors found out about our connection, but the image of my body that night is burned into her mind. She was the person who took care of me the most upon release and quit her job at the hospital for a little while in order to make sure I was well taken care of. Calls and texts were just our thing now and I always felt horrible for being part of such a traumatic event for her.
“Love you,” She said.
“Love you too,” I replied, hanging up.
Getting out of my car, I locked the doors and made my way over to Jimin. He caught sight of me before I reached the small group and broke out into a huge, heart stopping smile. Unable to stop myself, I smiled back and waved awkwardly. He said something to the group before meeting me halfway. 
“Hey, you,” He said, wrapping his arms around me. “You look really pretty.”
I laughed nervously, squeezing his waist. “Thanks. I tried my best.”
Pulling away, I was able to admire him a bit better. He was wearing light jeans tonight, a rarity as he preferred sweatpants and slacks, and a black t-shirt. A leather jacket was a staple in his wardrobe, and he always said they kept him warm enough. I never believed him. As always, everything was a tight fit and showed off his body perfectly. 
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I said once my appraisal was finished. “Nice boots. Where’d you get them?”
He looked down at the black, Chelsea boots and shrugged, “Nordstrom, I think. Taehyung got them for me a few Christmases ago.”
Of course he did.
“Let’s go inside. I’m cold.”
Jimin laughed, “My apologies, ma’am.”
The restaurant was packed, but Jimin had arrived thirty minutes early to get us on their waitlist, so I only had to wait five minutes for our table to be ready. Jimin brushed off the gesture as first date etiquette, but I knew better. The kid was late to everything and yet he got here early so I wouldn’t have to stand outside in the cold. It almost made me reach out and hold his hand, but my nerves got the best of me. We were at our table before I could gather up some courage, leaving a disappointed, bitter taste in my mouth.
“I’m feeling Disco Fries as an app. You?”
Searching the menu for them, I nodded. “That sounds really good.”
We were quiet for a few minutes as we decided on what we wanted. The menu here was rather large, filled with Mexican foods and copious BBQ items. Having never been here before I had no clue what was good and what hasn’t, but from how many people were here I had to assume nothing was bad.
“Know what you want?” Jimin asked, breaking the silence.
I shook my head, “No idea. What about you?”
“I get the same thing every time I come,” He laughed. “The Korean BBQ Burger is really fucking good. I also like the enchiladas.”
Finding both items, my mouth watered. Everything sounded amazing, but I wanted to get a little out of my comfort zone. I just had burgers yesterday, so I was not feeling that. Maybe BBQ? Looking at the options, I shook my head. I could not eat a half pound of anything. Biting the dry skin on my lips, my brain felt like it was working on overdrive. Too many options.
“Welcome to Union Rec,” I jumped a little, startled. “I’m Annie and I’ll be your server tonight.”
My eyes locked with a pair of baby blues, and I immediately recognized her. She was the brunette from the bar a couple of months ago. Eyes sliding from me, she landed on Jimin and the bored expression on her face morphed into one of pure bliss. I did not understand why she had given me that nasty look back then, but it was much clearer to me now. She had a thing for Jimin. Remembering she had a boyfriend, one she screamed at over the phone, it made me feel nauseous. Poor Tom.
“Oh my gosh, Christian. What are you doing here?” She asked, sneaking a look at me.
“Got a hot date,” He replied cheekily, gesturing his hand my way. “You remember Y/N, right?”
She gave me one of those tight-lipped, fake smiles. I returned the favor. I was not really jealous per say, Jimin’s declaration making any possibility of that disappear, but I did not appreciate anyone trying to make me feel small. I was a gold medalist. I was a fucking Olympian. Whoever the hell this chick thought she was, I would make sure she never thought for a second she got under my skin. 
“Yeah, we met at Brecon’s,” Annie replied, completely ignoring me. “Thought she was your coach.”
Jimin either did not catch the insult or he was choosing to ignore it. His smile was still just as pleasant as it was when we first sat down. I envied his ability to keep his emotions so controlled. I knew I must have been glaring at the poor girl.
“She is,” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean she’s not my girlfriend. Are you taking our order or…?”
Annie spluttered for a second before regaining her composure. All affection in her eyes was gone and replaced by irritation. It was definitely directed at me, but Jimin’s dismissal must have stung. I was happy to be rid of her. Putting in our order for Disco fries, Jimin got a Sprite and Annie left before I could ask for a drink. Sipping on my complimentary water, I forced myself to breathe in and out. She was just a petty, annoyed girl with a crush. That was all. So, what if she was being rude? I was fine. Everything was fine. After the fifth sip, I actually believed it.
Trying to keep my tongue in check, I went back to looking through the menu. Finally able to make a choice, I decided on the birria beef ramen and closed the menu. Hopefully little miss Annie wouldn’t spit in it. Hot again, I took another long sip of water.
“Excuse me.”
Jimin flagged down another waiter, a pleasant smile on his face. Confused, I put down the glass and raised an eyebrow. He winked at me before laying the charm on thick. 
“Hey Marty. Would you mind if we got a different server?”
The young girl nodded frantically, “Of course. Is everything okay?”
Jimin smiled, eyes like crescents. “Everything is fine. Just Annie on her bullshit. Don’t want to get her fired by talking to your dad.”
Marty rolled her eyes, “Figures. I’ll tell her I’m taking care of you guys. Just don’t expect me to be running around for you, man. I have an entire section by myself.”
“I want privacy anyway,” Jimin replied, smirking at me. “Thanks. I’ll tip you well.”
She laughed, “Just make sure you put it in my hand. That bitch has been stealing tips. Cosette is trying to convince pops to fire her, but you know how he is about the girl.”
Jimin shook his head, “I already know. Can you get my girl a drink? Annie ran off without taking her order.”
Marty looked at me, her deadpan stare making me burst into laughter. Apparently, it wasn’t just me. That helped. 
“Sorry about her. She’s a massive bitch. What can I get you?”
I smiled, my mood a million times better, “Iced tea, please.”
“You got it, babe. You ready to order?”
Marty took our orders and promised to be back with my drink soon. 
“How do you two know each other?” I asked Jimin, finishing off my water.
“We were in the same class back in high school. Her mom owns that flower shop on Michigan Avenue.”
That was surprising. I was positive the girl was no older than eighteen. She reminded me of a porcelain doll, her chubby cheek and big eyes adding something angelic to her overall look. Then again, Jimin did not look all that old either. It was easy to forget he just turned 24. The age gap was really messing with my brain.
Annie was back with Jimin’s drink a few minutes later. She said nothing when she practically slammed his cup on the table before stalking off. It was then that I knew who she reminded me of. Darcy. I wondered if they were friends. Definitely had the same attitude problem, that was for sure.
“Ignore her,” Jimin told me once she was out of earshot. “I’ve been doing it since middle school.”
The rest of our dinner went back without a hitch. With Annie out of the way, and Marty’s small and infrequent check-in’s, we were able to be in a bubble of sorts. He asked about my trip back home and filled me in on what happened over the weekend. He had finally told his parents about our date and said that his mom thought it was a great idea. James called me perfect a few times, too. I had a hard time believing it, but Jimin had never lied to me before. It was nice to know the people around him accepted me even if I was a few years older.
“My mom’s 9 years older than my dad,” He revealed in between bites of food.
Shocked, I stopped eating all together. I had no idea they were that different in age. Ne-Yeon looked so youthful and pretty it was hard to guess just how old she actually was. Even fighting cancer, that woman did not look a day over 40. James was also in great shape for his age. To hear they had their own age gap made me feel a little bit better. 
“Wait,” Something else occurred to me. “Your mom was in her forties when she had you?”
Jimin nodded, “45. She had Haru at 48.”
It made sense to me now. To Jimin, our age gap was nothing special. It was smaller than his parents’, and having an older mother did not bother him at all. In his eyes, we had all of the time in the world for marriage and kids. A small weight came off of my shoulders. It really did not mean anything to him. He was not just saying that to make me feel better either. 
“Do you want dessert?” He asked, his plate empty in front of him. 
I was almost done with my bowl, “What do they have?”
He squinted his eyes, thinking.
“I know they have this horchata banana pudding. It’s literally the best dessert I’ve ever had in my life. There are a few other things, but I can’t remember what they are.”
I chuckled, “Then we’ll have the banana pudding.”
Jimin was not exaggerating either. The pudding was delicious. I almost wished we had each gotten our own serving, but after seeing the bill we were happy we hadn’t. Jimin paid this time. We had a back-and-forth deal when it came to meals. I got us breakfast last Wednesday, so he was picking up this bill. This was, unfortunately, much higher than Denny’s.
“I’ll put gas in your truck,” I offered on our way out. “To make up for the difference from Denny’s.”
He scoffed, “Don’t worry about it.”
“But-”
“We’re together now,” He interrupted me. “If I want to pay for a meal, then I will. You don’t have to pay me back.”
“We’ve always done that,” I argued.
“That was before,” He countered, walking me to my car door and opening it. “This is now. And right now, I’m trying to take a pretty girl, in a pretty dress, on a nice date. That includes paying for her meal.”
Getting into my seat, I pointed out that I let him do the gentleman thing all of the time. Opening my door for me, pulling chairs out at restaurants, and even walking on the curbside when we were out together. The list was endless. The least I could do was pay for half of a meal.
“I don’t do those things to get on your good side,” Jimin replied. “I do them because I want to. This isn’t transactional. So, stop worrying about being a burden. I enjoy taking care of you. You deserve to be taken care of.”
I could not think of a good enough comeback, so I just decided to drop it. If he wanted to pay for me then he could. It was his money to spend. 
“Send me your address.”
“You still want to come over?” He seemed surprised.
“Yeah,” I nodded, already pulling up the GPS. “What is it?”
He sounded like Charlie when he won the golden ticket as he gave me his address. 
“Don’t get too excited now,” I joked. “Just because I’m coming over doesn’t mean anything.”
Jimin laughed, “I pretend I don’t even know what sex is until after date three, so don’t worry about it.”
That made me laugh, “Get in your truck. I’ll meet you there.”
Looking back at him, I felt giddy. His eyes were so alight, his joy written so clearly across his face it took my breath away. A happy Jimin was the only kind I wanted to see. Blowing caution to the wind, I finally reached out. Touching his stomach, I felt the muscles clench beneath my fingers.
“Thank you,” I said earnestly.
“What for?” He rasped, placing one hand over mine, pressing my hand further into his skin. 
“For-” I broke off, taking my hand away. The feeling of him underneath me was too much. “For being so accommodating. I really appreciate it.”
He laughed, the sound strained and airy. I was too embarrassed by my actions to look at his face, but I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my eyes. Unlike me, Jimin was always brave. Hopefully some of that confidence would rub off on me. Maybe then I could reach out and hold him whenever I wanted to. 
“You’re welcome,” He replied, and my thighs clenched together at how rough he sounded. Did touching him do that? Or was it the praise? It could be both. “Drive safe, okay? You can follow me if that helps.”
I nodded, swallowing. The icy air outside did nothing to put out the blistering heat coursing between us right now. It was overwhelming how hot it was. Turning up my A/C, I pointed the vent directly at my face.
“See you in a few minutes,” I breathed, still unable to look at him.
Jimin closed my door, and I leaned back in my seat breathing heavily. I watched him as he rounded the front of my car, those pants sticking to his legs like a second skin and groaned. I had never felt this level of desire for anyone before. 
He reminded me so much of Namjoon. His beautiful brain and love for music and poetry so reminiscent it managed to bring me back to happier times. In the beginning I was afraid my attraction to him stemmed from that link. Because he reminded me of something I had loved so dearly that meant what I was beginning to feel was just a projection.
I was wrong. So unbelievably wrong. Jimin had a passion that Joon could never replicate. If Joon was a warm blanket, then Jimin was like the tide in the sea. On the surface it was calm, steady, and beautiful. Underneath that was life like nothing I had ever seen before. He was refreshing and filled with this fire for life that reminded me of my own from years ago.
Namjoon was perfect, a boy-next-door, and soft spoken. Back then I had enough of that passion for the both of us. Now I saw more and more parallels between us than ever before. I was uncertain, waiting for someone else to bring excitement back into my life, too afraid to reach out and take what I wanted anymore.
And then Jimin was there with that big smile willing to take me on whatever adventure I desired. All I had to do was ask. It was exhilarating, fun, and I was happy to be a part of the ride. His softness, his kindness, his understanding- all of it wrapped up in a pretty red bow. A gift that kept on giving.
I did not love Jimin, but I knew then that I could. With his sharp tongue and charisma, it was impossible not to. Everyone else did. Who was I to think I could be any different? I was a slave to his happiness. It was in that moment, sitting in my car, that I finally understood what was happening.
I was falling in love and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
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melbatron5000 · 7 months ago
Text
Murder Board 2.0
Updated 9/27/24
Since I've figure a few things out, I need to re-do my Murder Board. New answers, new questions.
What I think I know:
Hints given out by NG are suspect at best. (I cannot blame him or anyone else on the cast or crew -- they spent A LOT of time and energy building this very meticulous puzzle game for us -- why would ANY of them give ANY of it away? That would ruin all the fun!)
Lots of the discontinuity of Season 2 can be explained by POV switches between characters. See here and here for more. I think the title/location cards are also probably POV Clues, that needs a closer look.
Crowley gave something to Aziraphale in his mouth when they kissed. It's the fly. Now, what else was in the fly besides Gabriel's memory? RECORDS. Incriminating records that are why the Metatron let Beelzebub and Gabriel go, but nailed Aziraphale. The Metatron knows Gabriel has those records, he doesn't know they got passed to Aziraphale.
Saraqael and Crowley and by proxy, Aziraphale are all working together. See here and here for more. That explains A. the tiny miracle blowing up into a 25 Lazarii miracle. It didn't. They had to cover for something else that did. B. Saraqael showing the archangels the book shop in 2019 in the spy hole. C. Crowley's spy turtle neck and where he went during Aziraphale's Job flashback. D. Why Saraqael helps him see the trial in Heaven. (Oh! Muriel's now in on it, too!)
Crowley's memory is fine, it's a red herring. It might mean something else, though. I think he is dissing Furfur, he is denying knowing Saraqael even after she gives him a reason to recognize her to hide that they are working together. He tells Jim he doesn't remember why they invented gravity, but that whole scene is from Aziraphale's perspective, so the conversation likely didn't actually go just like that.
Shax is on a mission besides Gabriel -- she's looking for whatever Aziraphale and Crowley are hiding. Gabriel is a side-mission.
The hand-washing comment from Crowley in the Resurrectionists minisode -- he tells DaVinci about helicopters in Good Omens the novel. It's just a thing he can do.
What is up with Maggie? Maggie's freaking Jesus 2.0. She's what Shax is looking for, and who Crowley, Aziraphale, and Saraqael are hiding. Also, where is God? God is busy being Maggie, that's where. That's why Crowley says "Oh God" before his speech in the final fifteen. He's bringing up what they're hiding, reminding Aziraphale that someone has to stay and keep an eye on Maggie. That's why he can't go. Now, how the FUCK did Jesus 2.0 wind up owning a record store she inherited from her family NEXT TO AN ANGEL?? (Ah, shit, now I'm doubting this one. Now I suspect it's Nina, and Maggie is Mary MAGdeline. Same questions still apply.)
SECRET SONGS??? Why are the songs secret?? I'm losing my mind, what is happening?? I think this is a message that A. Aziraphale and Crowley are okay, and B. We will absolutely be getting part 3 of 1941.
I still think the scenes might be out of order. Is it as simple as watching them in chronological order? Could be.
The Metatron is a naked man. i.e. he was originally HUMAN.
Aziraphale and Crowley are talking in subtext A LOT. Aziraphale's tells are easier to spot than Crowley's. He raises his eyebrows and does vocal bunny rabbit ears, says "um," and "ah." "Our Gabriel miracle," "The establishment in question," "Certainly on to something," "Haven't yet cracked the case." Crowley's tell seems to be being effusive. "Frozen peas," "You wouldn't be interested in love?" "Well, today is your lucky day!" "How do you know I didn't do it?"
We are missing the scenes that should mirror the Resurrectionists minisode. What we do have instead of mirrors to that are Crowley telling the demons they are out of order. He can tell time has been messed with.
There are two Crowleys. I think the head in the book shop is his way of keeping in touch while his twin is off doing things, and the red eyes are him, too. Now, why?? What do they need 2 Crowleys for?
What still needs answering:
The clocks jumping time. And why are the extras moving in double-time when we first arrive to Whickber street?
The weird hand in the 1941 photo.
Aziraphale's chair position being moved still doesn't make sense. Unless Crowley was talking to himself??
The extras behaving strangely.
Crowley's car being in the wrong spot on the road after Shax threatens him.
Weird sounds -- Aziraphale turns to look at a crashing sound when he returns from Edinburgh, to look at a car horn, the very loud clock in the final fifteen BUT ALSO when Jim says he will go out to the demons, nightingale singing when Crowley leaves in the FF.
I'm not sure that POV switches explain Crowley's sunglasses going from silver to black.
I don't know why Aziraphale went to Edinburgh, or why he stopped at the graveyard where Gabriel's statue is, or why he looked like he realized something important while he was there.
Why does Michael do the "nothing's in the box" thing with the matchbox? It's a petty specific action. Someone pointed out that Michael's nails look chewed and terrible, are we meant to stare at the matchbox while something else goes unnoticed? Well, duh. But what?
We most certainly did not get the whole scene where the Metatron is talking to Aziraphale. What else was said?
What did Crowley do during his ALL-NIGHT JAUNT in Heaven? Did he sneak around and steal something? Did he uncover something? Did they hurt him? I think he stole something.
What did Aziraphale do with his briefcase that he took to Edinburgh? We see it in the book shop from his POV, and Edinburgh is seen from Crowley's POV, so they both know it exists. And then it's gone.
Why does Gabriel prophecy with God's voice? IS it God's voice? It's a woman, is it Frances McDormand? It's hard to hear. When he remembers the beginning, I think it's God's voice. When he prophecies, it may be someone else. Frances McDormand has no credit in that episode.
Why the heck did Maggie and Nina go talk to Crowley while the Metatron was talking to Aziraphale? What they had to say wasn't important enough to leave Nina's shop during a rush, and I definitely don't think they derailed Crowley from what he needed to say to Aziraphale, though it might look at first as if they did. So what was that about? Were they trying to speak in husband-code to warn him about the Metatron?
When Shax stops Aziraphale for a ride, he says, "Oh, I really need to get to --" and then is cut off. He really needs to get to where? It's an easy assumption to think he means the book shop, or London. But is that all he means? Or was he on his way somewhere else? And if it was just the book shop, what does he mean he's late? Late for what?
When Crowley leaves Heaven, he tells Saraqael and Muriel to come, too. But in the elevator, Michael and Uriel are there! When the fuck did they show up??
Why does Beelzebub tell Shax to attack the bookstore? Aren't they worried about Gabriel being harmed? And they know Hell is understaffed. Maybe that's why they command it? Because they know Shax won't be able to get many demons?
What about the Masons? It's such a specific thing for the pub owner to bring up, what is the meaning of it? And Maggie has a Mason symbol on her necklace. Did the Masons carve the statue of Gabriel? When did they see him?
The only narration we hear in the entire season is Aziraphale in the Resurrectionist flashback. I believe this is to throw us off the POV character switches all season. But still, why do we only hear him narrate 1 flashback? I think he's reading the diary to himself in the present day. That would explain the end, "And that was the last I was to see of Crowley for some time." He JUST heard the story of the jukebox from Maggie. And Gabriel appearing at the pub -- same city that statue is in. Of course he thought of something important from that diary entry! Now, what did he notice?
Is the Book of Life a real threat? We hear two stories about it, that it's real and that its ability to erase beings was something to scare the cherubs with, this is inconclusive. Crowley gets nervous after Beelzebub talks to him, but I think he's pissed that Heaven and Hell have taken an interest in them again, especially since they're trying to hide Nina!Jesus.
So many promo posters show Aziraphale, Crowley, and Jimbriel together, or symbols of them. Three feathers: two white, one black. Tea cup, cocoa mug, wine glass. The three of them. Not with Beelzebub, not with Muriel, the three of them. And all three of them have been Jesus-coded in some small way. No one else. Those three. What. Why. Are they the sacrifice required to bring about the new world? Why not Beez, then?
The whole collection of Maggie's album's from the Amazon X-ray are great, big CLUES.
A post that I didn't reblog pointed out that the record Aziraphale is listening to when Garbriel shows up is neither Shostakovich nor 21 minutes long. That seems important, but I'm not sure how. (The record is opposite when Crowley gives Aziraphale the fly containing records -- the actual symphony is, according to the original blog, one written by a rebel in contempt of his government. Do the records have to do with the rebellion and fall?)
What the heck does Furfur mean by "little monkey in the waistcoat?" How does that sound like Crowley?
Why does Furfur change the subject when Aziraphale asks where Gabriel and Beelzebub would like to go?
Why does Mrs. H say "for God's sake" two times in a row? No one says that on this show without a meaning.
Shax notices Crowley going to Heaven and makes an epiphany face.
Why is the end credit music for the ball French cafe music? French must be important. And the end credit music for The Hitchhiker is old timey and scratchy, then skips and becomes the same song in a newer, clearer style. Because they repeat the bullet catch trick in the modern day, perhaps?
I thought I heard that Crowley and Aziraphale are in the fly in the opening sequence, but nope. So why are they in a cave?
Why are there multiple elevators and multiple mountains in the opening sequence??? What the hell does that mean?? And multiple Edens?? All right, what's up??
I count at least two times Aziraphale glances right at the camera, probably more. Who is he looking at? Us? Is he looking at Crowley?Why??
When Aziraphale arrives back from Edinburgh, he asks how "everything is with -- mm." Crowley says "he was sleeping, I heard him singing." I don't think they mean Gabriel. At the cafe, Crowley says when Gabriel smites you, you've been smitten. Aziraphale says he isn't "you know who any longer." Again, I don't think he means Gabriel. Who are they hiding?
What has Aziraphale's attention when he asks Maggie about Every Day? She points to the coffee shop, and all of a sudden Aziraphale can't stop looking out the window and gets very nervous.
Twos. Why are twos so important?? Repeating twos. And there's doubles of damn near every object on screen.
Repeating themes: (I am just realizing that these aren't just themes, they are all Clues!)
Beverages of all kinds -- tea for Aziraphale, wine or whiskey for Crowley, cocoa for Jim. Oh, and LAUDANUM. And coffee!
Time -- lots of clocks/mentions of time. Everyone notices the ticking clock during the Final Fifteen, but it's ticking loud when the demons attack the ball, too. Also, why is the first scene of Whickber street shown at high-speed? Is time sped up? Or something else?
Love/partnership/togetherness being stronger than separateness
Memories/forgetting/remembering
Payment -- money comes up in both the Resurrectionists minisode and the Flesh Eating Nazi Zombies minisode, but no one pays for anything in present. There is bartering, but no money. Both times money is brought up, it's Crowley using Aziraphale's money, and both times, it's to buy a life. It's funny, but I feel like there's a point to it.
Rising from the dead -- Job's kids (even though they weren't actually dead), bodies used for science, Nazi zombies, the Second Coming. I think this is all just hinting around Jesus -- sure, hinting around Jesus, who we were expecting to show up in Season 3, but she's already here. The hints indicate that she is already on Earth, not going to show up next season.
Unreliable narrators. Because we are seeing the whole show from various characters' points of view. Because of that, we can only see what they know, expect, believe, or understand, but also what they want us to see. We need to take the whole second season with a grain of salt.
Death in general -- but 8a., I'm a dirty pagan, why didn't I make this connection sooner, death always leads to REBIRTH, change, something totally new and 8b. there are tarot cards in the magic shop, and even if you're not a dirty pagan, the Death tarot card means transition, something must die before a new thing can be born. Hmm.
Morality and what is "good" and what is right
Recognition and identity and hiding one's identity. Ah! Probably at least partly because Maggie someone? is Jesus. How would you recognize them? (I think it's Nina now.)
Licenses, permits, permissions, rules, proof, evidence, what's allowed. All of the minisodes mention this, and it all gets mentioned again over and over. Because Heaven and Hell do have rules they have to follow. Which drives home my theory that Gabriel stole some very incriminating records from Heaven when he left, Crowley got hold of them and gave them to Aziraphale during the kiss, and now Aziraphale is going to nail them.
Colors. Lots of colors!! Job's kids are dressed in the colors of Nina, Maggie, and Aziraphale's shops. Jesus on the Resurrectionist Pub sign is in blue and red, blue and red crop up a lot in extra's clothing, as do yellow and red, Crowley colors. The Ladies of Camelot are in red and blue. Aziraphale says Earth will be a blue-green planet, Nina's shop is blue-green.
Horses. Horse statue, horse wine label, people saying "dark horse." The four horsemen again? I feel like they already had their ride, so what the hell? I think it's because season 2 is an echo of season 1, I THINK -- I have to check -- that horses appear or get mentioned when the horsemen have corresponding scenes in season 1.
Numbers. A lot of numbers get said. Does it matter, or am I overthinking?
Repeating words and phrases:
Technically
Properly
Isn't it just?
Too late
Funny old world
Not as such
Made for each other
EVERYWHERE
Obviously
Two shakes of a lamb's tail
Dark horse
What are you/am I? As opposed to WHO. Aziraphale asks in the Land of Uz, and Crowley asks Gabriel.
Are you sure? Quite sure.
The Marvelous Mr. Fell is described as marvelous in his mysterosity, Shax says the demons have dangerosity.
Mrs. H in 1941 says "for God's sake" twice in quick succession.
Schtum
Every day
Hints:
Powell and Pressburg films
The Crow Road
Catch 22
The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents, Terry Pratchett in general
Jane Austin
Book Good Omens
Season 1 Good Omens
The titles of episodes, minisodes, places, etc. 7a. The Arrival: a book and a movie, though the book seems far more relevant. And lovely. The Clue: a movie. Companion to Owls: a line from a Bible story. I Know Where I'm Going: a movie. The Resurrectionists: two novels, each called The Resurrectionist, singular. Both look unhinged. The Hitchhiker: a Twilight Zone episode. Nazi Zombie Flesheaters: Literally no other reference. ?? Nazi Zombies do appear in a LOT of movies, comics, and video games, usually as a dark joke. The Ball: a video game. Irrelevant? It's a puzzle-based game, so maybe not. Every Day: a song AND a movie. Some themes repeat here: Puzzle games, being re-directed from one's path to find true love, death and being brought back to life in a gruesome and unpleasant way.
Objects that get a close-up/centering:
Starmaker's nebula book -- Nebula 231,080
Shax's compact mirror
Maggie's note
Shostakovich record
Tomatoes
The box
The Bentley
Eccles cakes
The bell
Head statue
The book Jim drops
Jukebox
Gabgriel's statue
Laudanum bottle
Phones in Edinburgh episode
"Very closed" sign
Broken whiskey bottles in 1941
Hourglass in Hell
Furfur's camera
Bullet catch in the magic shop
Instruction booklet for bullet catch gets 3 close ups -- because the bullet catch trick is that important, or because it happens 3 times? Both, I think.
Puppets
Dancers' silhouettes
Mr. Fell sign
The actual bullet
Angelic beings book
Photo evidence
Shax's shoes
"Surrender the angle" brick
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