#if you truly believe your relationship is working out

[of-fandoms]

Some people in the miraculous fandom are crashing out because "Marinette is absolutely in the right to be suspicious, Adrien runs every morning with another girl!"

And listen this might be because I'm aroace and don't know shit about relationships but that seems like bullshit to me :')

He's not allowed to hang out with another girl because he's in a relationship? Is that how that works? You're telling me it's normal to have so little trust in your partner, that they shouldn't hang out with the gender they're attracted to?

Allo peeps what the actual hell

[qualitygiverdreamer09]

TWST Housewardens (Riddle, Leona and Azul) As Your Boyfriend (Headcanons). Part 1.

Header Credit: Disney

Pairing: Multi Scenario x gender neutral!Reader

Category: Fluff/Light Angst

Tags : Twisted wonderland x reader, Physical and non Physical Effection, just a lot of cute moment between couple.

Warning : None

A/N : For today there will be no Quotes, but I have different plans, including creating several headcanons (hc), which I have postponed for almost several months due to several obstacles that have prevented me from completing them.

The following is my interpretation of what I believe Riddle, Leona and Azul would say and act, and I kindly apologize if it does not align perfectly with the character or if you have a different understanding. Please bear in mind that it is intended purely for entertainment purposes and should not be taken to heart.

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Riddle Rosehearts

Type of Boyfriend - The Strict but Deeply Devoted Boyfriend

Dating Riddle is like winning the favor of a noble—he holds himself (and you) to high standards, but beneath his composed exterior is a young man desperate for love, warmth, and the freedom to be himself. He expresses affection with precision, yet with time, his once-rigid demeanor softens, allowing his true feelings to shine through.

Early Relationship – The Overly Formal & Flustered Phase

Riddle has never been in a relationship before, and the idea of romance terrifies him more than breaking a rule.

When you first confess, he freezes, his mind racing. His face turns a deep shade of red, and he stammers:

“Th-That is… highly improper to say so suddenly! There is a correct procedure for these matters—!”

But when he realizes you're serious, his fingers tighten around the edge of his uniform, and his voice drops to something far more fragile:

“You… truly care for me?”

Despite his nervousness, Riddle approaches your relationship with the same diligence he applies to everything. He studies dating etiquette, reads romance novels (with an embarrassing level of intensity), and schedules dates with precision.

At first, he overthinks everything:

“I must escort you to dinner precisely at 7:00 PM, or else it would be discourteous.”

“No, I cannot simply hold your hand without a formal declaration of intent!”

Eventually, though, he learns that love isn’t about rules—it’s about emotions.

As He Opens Up – The Soft & Protective Side

The more comfortable Riddle becomes, the more his softer side emerges. Though he still struggles to be openly affectionate in public, his gestures in private speak volumes.

He presses a hand to your forehead when he thinks you might be unwell, brushing his fingers against your skin longer than necessary. He lingers when saying goodbye, red ears betraying his hesitation.

One night, while studying together, he unexpectedly rests his head against your shoulder.

“…I suppose this isn’t an efficient way to study, but… may I stay like this? Just for a moment?”

And the first time he kisses you, it’s not planned. It’s not part of a schedule. It happens in the middle of a heated argument over something trivial, like whether tea should be steeped for exactly three minutes.

You blurt out, “Riddle, you’re adorable when you get all worked up.”

His face burns. “Th-That is—! You—!” And then, without thinking, he kisses you—quick, clumsy, but full of emotion.

When he pulls back, his voice is barely above a whisper: “…I don’t know what to do with these feelings. But I want to learn—with you.”

How He Shows Love

Words of Affirmation: He’s precise with his compliments, never saying something unless he truly means it. “You are brilliant. And, dare I say… utterly irreplaceable.”

Acts of Service: He ensures your tea is always perfect, helps with your studies, and fusses over your health.

Physical Affection (Private Only!): At first, he’s stiff and awkward, but once comfortable, he enjoys holding your hand, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, and resting his head against you when tired.

Dates with Riddle

Afternoon Tea in the Rose Garden: He takes pride in preparing the perfect tea for you, insisting on only the finest pastries.

Quiet Library Study Sessions: He secretly enjoys it when you lean against him while reading.

Horseback Riding: A highly formal date—he claims it’s for posture and discipline, but he loves seeing you enjoy it.

Jealousy & Possessiveness

Riddle doesn’t handle jealousy well. He won’t cause a scene, but if someone flirts with you, his posture stiffens, his lips press into a thin line, and his voice becomes ice-cold.

“I would hope that they understand boundaries.”

Later, in private, he’ll grip your hand tightly and murmur: “…You are mine. I don’t know how to say it in a way that doesn’t sound selfish. But… I don’t want to lose you.”

What It’s Like to Sleep Over

Riddle has a strict bedtime, but when you stay over, he spends extra time brushing your hair, making sure you’re comfortable.

If you move away in your sleep, he unconsciously reaches for you, his voice soft: “…Stay close.”

The next morning, he’ll deny it. But his blushing ears tell a different story.

Final Thoughts on Riddle as a Boyfriend

If you want a boyfriend who is disciplined, devoted, and secretly starved for affection, Riddle is the perfect choice. Once he trusts you, his love is unwavering.

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Leona Kingscholar

Type of Boyfriend - The Lazy but Intensely Passionate Boyfriend

Dating Leona is like taming a lion. He is confident, temperamental, and effortlessly alluring, but beneath his sharp exterior is a man who fears being second place in your heart.

His love is possessive, teasing, and deeply intense—once he claims you as his, there’s no escaping.

Early Relationship – The “You’re Annoying, But I Like You” Phase

Leona doesn’t believe in love at first sight.

When you confess to him, he smirks, stretching lazily before saying, “Heh. Took you long enough.”

But despite his cocky attitude, the truth is, he likes you—more than he wants to admit. And that terrifies him.

At first, he plays it cool, pretending he doesn’t care.

“Oh? You wanna go on a date? Tch, fine. But you’re paying.”

But then, when someone else starts showing interest in you, his sharp eyes darken. “Oi. You’re not seriously entertaining that loser, are you?”

Slowly, his teasing shifts into something more real, more vulnerable.

As He Falls in Love – The Soft & Overprotective Side

Once Leona truly falls for you, he stops pretending.

He doesn’t say “I love you” often, but you feel it in the way he pulls you into his lap when you’re sitting next to him, in the way his tail flicks happily when you scratch behind his ears, in the way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking.

One night, you’re lying beside him, and he mumbles, half-asleep: “…Don’t go anywhere.”

He won’t say it outright, but he’s afraid of losing you—afraid that, like everything else in his life, he’ll end up second-best in your heart.

So he holds onto you like you’re the only thing that matters.

How He Shows Love

Physical Touch: He lives for it—pulling you against him, resting his head on your shoulder, or draping himself over you like a lazy cat.

Teasing: He calls you “Herbivore” but will pout if you don’t give him attention.

Acts of Service: He pretends he’s lazy, but if you need something? Consider it done. He’ll grumble about it, but he’ll still do it.

Dates with Leona

Naps Together: His idea of a perfect date is you in his arms, half-asleep.

Star-Gazing in the Savannah: He secretly loves showing you his homeland.

Sparring Matches: He claims he’s “training” you, but really, he enjoys the playful competition.

Jealousy & Possessiveness

If someone flirts with you, Leona glares—a look that could kill. Then, he pulls you against him and mutters:

“Tch. Guess I gotta remind you who you belong to.”

Final Thoughts on Leona as a Boyfriend

Leona loves deeply but fears losing. If you want a fiercely loyal, possessive, and secretly soft-hearted boyfriend, he’s the perfect choice.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Azul Ashengrotto

Type of Boyfriend - The Cunning but Deeply Insecure Boyfriend

Dating Azul is like making a deal with a silver-tongued businessman—he woos you with charm, gifts, and impeccable manners, but beneath his confident façade is a man who fears that, one day, you’ll see him as nothing more than the weak boy he once was.

His love is protective, strategic, and possessive—he hates losing, and he will not lose you.

Early Relationship – The “Too Good to Be True” Phase

Azul doesn’t believe in unconditional love.

When you confess, his first instinct is suspicion.

“Ah, what an interesting proposal. But tell me… what do you stand to gain from this arrangement?”

Even when he realizes you’re serious, he still struggles to believe it. Why you? Why him?

He spends the first few weeks of your relationship proving he’s the perfect boyfriend—he showers you with luxurious gifts, takes you on extravagant dates, and subtly reminds you of how fortunate you are to be with him.

And yet, deep down, he’s terrified.

What if, one day, you see through him—see the boy who was once ridiculed, weak, unwanted?

So he watches you carefully, searching for any sign that you might be losing interest.

As He Falls in Love – The Soft & Vulnerable Side

Despite his best efforts to keep his guard up, Azul falls hard.

At first, his affection is calculated—hand kisses, smooth compliments, and perfectly crafted romantic gestures. But as he grows more comfortable, his love becomes more real.

One night, after a long day at the Monstro Lounge, you find him slumped over his desk, fast asleep. His glasses are askew, his coat draped over the chair.

When you brush his bangs from his face, he stirs, groggily murmuring: “…You’re still here?”

He blinks up at you, vulnerable, unguarded.

“…I was afraid you might leave.”

From then on, he stops trying so hard to impress you. He still spoils you, still insists that he pays for everything, but he also lets himself be weak around you—lets you see him tired, frustrated, afraid.

And when you tell him you love him, without any conditions, he exhales like he’s been holding his breath his entire life.

How He Shows Love

Gift Giving: Azul is a firm believer that material gifts equal devotion—jewelry, imported delicacies, even rare magical artifacts.

Acts of Service: If you mention wanting something, he’ll get it—no questions asked.

Physical Affection (When Alone): He lives for stroking your fingers, pressing his lips to your knuckles, and wrapping his arms around you from behind.

Dates with Azul

Exclusive Fine Dining: Only the best for his beloved—private, candlelit, and expensive.

Private Beach Getaways: The ocean is his domain, and he wants you to experience it with him.

Late-Night Talks in His Office: When he’s too tired to maintain his usual bravado, he lets you see the real him.

Jealousy & Possessiveness

Azul doesn’t get angry when jealous—he gets strategic.

If someone flirts with you, he smiles—but his grip on your hand tightens, and his voice drops to a dangerously smooth purr: “I do hope they understand that you are already spoken for.”

And later, when you’re alone, he’ll kiss your wrist, murmuring: “…You wouldn’t leave me for someone else, would you?”

Because the truth is, no matter how much you reassure him, part of him still fears losing you.

Final Thoughts on Azul as a Boyfriend

If you want a boyfriend who spoils you, worships you, and hides his deepest insecurities behind charm and wit, Azul is the perfect match. His love is intense, but once he trusts you, he’s yours forever.

Written By @qualitygiverdreamer09

[aleexoxosstuff]

-“IN ANOTHER LIFE”

Pairing: 𝖩𝗎𝗇-𝖧𝗈 𝗑 𝖿𝗂𝖺𝗇𝖼é!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

Summary: 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖩𝗎𝗇-𝗁𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗈𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.

Warning: 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗎𝖾𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍…, 𝖩𝗎𝗇-𝗁𝗈 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀!, 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋��𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍

𝖶𝖼: 5.9 𝗄 (𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀…)

𝖥𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗌!!

𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖾, 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗓𝖺’𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾’𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍…

ENDING YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH Jun-Ho was never a part of your plans.

During your time together, you felt like you floated on a cloud, enveloped in the warmth of his unwavering attention. He indulged your every desire, showering you with dates and gifts, leaving you with the lingering thoughts that you were unworthy of his devotion. Each moment spent with him felt like a scene from a romantic film, where the world faded away, and it was just the two of you.

You remember the way he looked at you, his eyes sparkling with admiration, as if you were the most precious thing in the world. The way he listened intently to anything you had to say, offering support and encouragement, made you feel seen in a way you had never experienced before.

You questioned whether you truly deserved the life he was offering you. You found yourself grappling with the doubts of your relationship, wondering if you could ever truly match the love he so freely gave. When he proposed you began to overthink like never before. Your friends cooed at the sparkling ring on your finger while bringing up how hard it must be dating a detective and how dangerous the career was. Before it was never a problem, now it was all on your mind.

As time passed, the weight of your insecurities started seeping into the relationship, casting shadows over the two of you. You found yourself hesitating to express your true feelings, fearing that if you told him everything, he might realize it was a mistake proposing to you.

Despite these internal struggles, the thought of ending things with Jun-Ho felt unfathomable. He was not just a partner; he was everything you had dreamed of as a kid. The idea of walking away from the love that had enveloped you in such warmth was something you couldn't ever think of doing. Instead, you clung to the hope that you could bridge the gap between your self-doubt and the love he offered, believing that perhaps, in time, you would get better.

When he told you that he would be gone for a couple of days for a work trip you were nervous. Several possibilities roamed your mind as he tried you reassure you he’d be fine. After avoiding a nervous breakdown and making him promise to return safely, you reluctantly agreed to let him go. You and his mother kept each other company while he was away, wanting to comfort one another. You went to work despite the eye-bags under your eyes, if people ever saw them they pretended not to notice out of pity. After work, you would greet his mother at your door, quietly eat dinner with minimal talk, and cry late into the night quiet enough for her not to wake up.

Upon receiving the call that he was hospitalized, it felt as though the very breath had been stolen from your lungs, leaving you gasping for air in a world that suddenly seemed darker and more uncertain. The thoughts that engulfed your mind as you learned of his precarious condition. The haunting fear that he might not see another day settled heavily in your chest, a weight that threatened to crush you under its intensity.

When you finally arrived at the hospital, the sight of him struck you like a physical blow. He appeared as a shadow of himself, a mere echo of the vibrant person you once knew. Adorned with a neck brace that seemed to confine him even further, and bandages that marred his skin, he lay there, vulnerable and fragile. The machines around him beeped rhythmically, a constant reminder of the life that hung in the balance, and you felt a deep ache in your heart as you took in the scene before you.

You remained steadfast by his side, your fingers entwined with his throughout the night, holding on as the hours slipped into the early morning light. Each minute felt like an eternity, and you found yourself whispering silent prayers, hoping against hope that he could hear you, that he could feel your presence anchoring him to this world. The warmth of your hand in his was a small comfort, a lifeline amid chaos, and you clung to it as if it were the only thing keeping you both tethered.

His mother, equally distraught, bore her own anguish, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with a sorrow that mirrored your own. You could see the weight of her worry etched into her features, the lines of fear and despair deepening with each passing moment. In that shared space of grief, you felt a profound sense of helplessness, unable to comfort her while grappling with your own despair. The air was thick with unspoken words, a shared understanding of the fragility of life that hung heavily between you.

As the night wore on, the hospital room became a sanctuary of sorts, a place where time seemed to stand still. You exchanged glances with his mother, each one laden with the weight of unexpressed fears and hopes. You wanted to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her that everything would be alright, but the truth was that you didn’t know. When he finally woke up, you gasped, afraid that your mind was playing tricks on you, wanting to play with you. Then, he said your name so delicately that tears had immediately fallen down your cheeks. You yelled out for the nurses to come, scared that he would fall back into unconsciousness. They pushed you aside gently as they checked up on him, his eyes stayed on you as you walked out to call his mother.

Hours later, they finally let the two of you have a peaceful moment to yourselves. You sat on the bed from the little space available as you caressed his face delicately. You didn’t want to disrupt the calm atmosphere, you wanted to know the truth but understood he might not be ready. His eyes softened as they watched your eyes study his features. His thumb grazed your left hand, messing with the ring that stood proudly on your ring finger. He watched your mouth twitch up, but it only stayed a moment before it faded away.

It was hard on the both of you, your relationship not being the same after he left. You longed for the days when everything felt effortless when love flowed freely between you without the burden of doubt or fear. Yet, as he returned, you made the conscious decision to refrain from asking him about what exactly had happened during his absence. You sensed that he was dealing with his own emotions, and the last thing you wanted was to add to his burden. Instead, you chose to leave the issue alone and be there when he was ready to share.

However, concern for his well-being weighed heavily on your heart. You could see the shadows of his struggles reflected in his eyes, and it pained you to witness the toll that had taken on him. This deep-seated worry compelled you to pause all wedding preparations, despite him saying he wanted to be married to you already. You both understood, perhaps more than anyone else, that the scars of recent events had yet to heal. The thought of making such a significant commitment loomed over you like a cloud, casting doubt on whether you were truly prepared to take that leap together. You held onto the hope that, in time, you would emerge stronger, ready to embrace the future you both envisioned.

Your apartment together was too quiet, Jun-ho went back to work as a detective which you voiced your discomfort over, but he’d dismissed you quickly and avoided the topic. You would clean the apartment spotless, cook his favorite meals, anything to try and make him open up more. All he would do was give you a gentle kiss before making his way to your shared room.

You couldn’t handle it anymore, after six long months you were tired. It was another night when Jun-ho would brush you off, his eye-bags showing how exhausted he was. You called out to him, grabbed his hands, and led him to sit down beside you. When you told him that he needed to take a break from working he finally blew up.

“Quit acting so worried, I’ve told you several times that I’m fine. Not even my mother acts so worried about me.” He shot out, he quickly grew annoyed by you. He took his hand out of your hold and sighed in frustration. You were hurt, never before had he talked to you like this, the two of you never even fought much, there were little disagreements. You had a feeling that this would spiral out of control.

“I’m your fiance, I have a right to tell you when you need to take a break. You have no idea how worrying it is seeing you go back to work knowing how dangerous it is.” You scoffed out, following him as he stood up, making his way to the room where the two of you spent countless nights together. You weren’t going to give up on this, you needed to vent out all of your frustrations.

“Do you know how hard it is for me? I’m trying to move on from what happened.” He says with his back facing you, not able to look you in the eye as he speaks. You wanted to comfort him but anger surged through you as you spewed out words you’d been keeping to yourself for months.

“From what? For months you’ve pushed me away ever since the incident and I have no clue what even happened to you! Do you know how terrifying it was when you returned with a bullet shot through your shoulder?!” You yelled out, you wanted him to understand how hurt you were, that you hated being in the dark for months not knowing what happened to the only man you ever loved.

“I’m not a child, I know how to take care of myself.” Jun-ho exasperated. He was now sitting on the bed, stripping from his shirt that stuck to him. You eyed him in irritation. You didn’t like how he tried to brush off your words, instead focusing on taking a shower.

“You’re so cruel Jun-ho, I love you of course I’m going to worry about you. You come home exhausted to even talk to me about your day, everyday it’s the same routine, you eat, take a shower, and then go to sleep.” You cried out, unable to understand why he was being so cruel with his actions. You couldn’t fathom that this was the same man who would trap you in a hug until you forgave him for the littlest of disagreements.

“I’m tired of it. I’m tired of all of this Jun-ho.” You pleaded, a tear slipping from your eye, you could feel them finally coming down. Your throat tightened up in pain and an aching pain was beginning to build up in your heart.

“Shit, all you’ve done is smother me and act like I'm going to break any minute. That’s what I’m tired of. I get off work and you tread around me like I’m a stranger in our apartment.” He snapped, looking you in the eyes as he towered over you. He softened for a moment as he wiped the tears off your cheeks that reddened at how angry you were. You moved from his touch, ignoring his face drop, and pressed a finger at his bare chest.

“Oh yeah? If that’s how you feel then why did you never tell me how you felt? A relationship is supposed to make you feel secure enough to be vulnerable.” You spat out, yanking your finger away when he grabbed onto it to stop you from poking him. He sighed once more pulling you out of the way and making his way to the shower.

“Quit backing out of this conversation and tell me how you really feel!”

“I feel that you're suffocating me in this fucking relationship! I feel that I’m fucking tired of you treating me delicately, and I’m exhausted from being near you when you try to pretend everything is fine.” He clenched his jaw while pointing his finger back at you. Jun-ho’s eyebrows were furrowed together as his chest heaved up and down in anger.

“Then maybe this fucking relationship was a mistake huh? If you’re sooo unhappy then leave me the fuck alone.” He rolled his eyes at your words, not taking them seriously enough for consideration. He thought that you both needed to calm down before you ended up ripping each other's heads apart.

“You don’t even make sense anymore, we need some space from each other.” Without another word, he opened the door to the restroom and closed it behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment to calm himself down before he heard your voice shakily yell back at him.

“Fine then, if that’s what you want then you’ll get it.” He hesitated before turning the water on, stepping out from the rest of his clothes. He heard rustling from your shared bedroom but assumed you were getting ready for bed.

You were engulfed in a whirlwind of anger and sorrow. The echoes of your argument replayed in your mind in a loop, each word bringing you to silent tears. As you thought back on the heated exchange, it became painfully clear to you what he had been feeling all along—his frustration, his hurt, and the unspoken words that had lingered between you like a thick fog. The realization settled heavily in your chest, a weight that made it hard to breathe.

With trembling hands, you rose to your feet, the urgency of the moment making you jump into action. You stumbled toward the corner of the room, where the suitcase lay hidden beneath the bed. You began hastily packing your clothes, shoving items into the suitcase without much thought—shirts, skirts, a favorite sweater that still carried his scent. Each piece felt like a memory you were trying to escape, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to leave it behind entirely.

The oppressive atmosphere of the room, filled with memories of the two of you, felt unbearable. The walls seemed to close in around you, suffocating in memories. You could almost hear the laughter that once echoed through the space, the quiet moments of intimacy that had turned into silence. You knew he would soon emerge from the shower, and with urgency, you finished gathering your things, your heart racing as you zipped the suitcase shut. You took one last look around the room, a bittersweet end to a life you had built together, and headed for the door.

As you descended the stairs, each step felt like a countdown, the sound of the water stopping above you signaling that he was wrapping up his shower. You could almost picture him, the steam rising around him, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing just outside the bathroom door. Your heart ached at the thought of leaving him, but the need to escape was overpowering.

Your gaze fell upon the ring you once wore with pride, a symbol of love and commitment that now felt like a shackle. A pang of realization hit you, reminding you that it no longer belonged on your finger. It was made out of a promise that had been broken. With a heavy heart, you carefully removed the gleaming ring, feeling its weight shift from your finger to your palm, as if it were a piece of your former self. The cool metal felt foreign against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the memories it held. You placed it gently on the coffee table, the soft thud echoing in the eerily silent apartment.

With one last glance at the ring, you turned away, the weight of your decision settling heavily on your shoulders. You quietly stepped out of the eerily silent apartment, the door clicking shut behind you with a finality that echoed in your mind. The world outside felt vast and uncharted, a stark contrast to the confines of the life you were leaving behind. As you walked away, each step felt like your heart was breaking more.

Before you knew it, you stood in front of your mother's house ringing the doorbell. After a quiet moment, she opened the door with tired eyes. Once she took in your appearance she cooed at you as you moved into her embrace. You trembled in her arms as she shushed you quietly, rocking the both of you back and forth.

“Mom, can I stay here for a while?” You asked after you calmed down, breaking away from the hug. She quickly noticed the absence of your missing ring and nodded firmly, taking you inside to the house you once called home.

Jun-ho was anxious when he didn’t see you lying down in the bed, the apartment being dead silent as his fatigue began to catch up to him. Against his better judgment, he assumed you fell asleep downstairs on the couch, something you had done frequently since he came back from the hospital. There were days when you’d wait for him to come home late into the night, falling asleep before he’d make it back.

He knew he had to apologize to him for his cruel words, knowing he let his anger out on someone he knew deserved the most for dealing with him and his trauma. Jun-ho knew he was way out of your league, and deserved someone who didn’t have baggage. When he met you he let himself be selfish and chased after you until you grew to like him like how he was infatuated with him. He began to slip into a deep sleep dreaming of the beginning of your relationship unbeknownst to your growing absence.

When he spotted the ring glinting on the coffee table as he walked by that morning, he came to a sudden halt. The sunlight streaming through the window caused the ring to shine brightly, sending tiny rainbows dancing across the room. It was as if he was hallucinating everything that happened—the argument from the night before, the dazzling ring that left him almost gasping to breathe; everything felt surreal.

He was already almost late for woke and he quickly jumped into his car, the engine roaring to life as he began to drive. He fumbled for his phone, his fingers trembling as he dialed your number, each ring increasing his anxiety. After seven attempts, each one met with the same beep, he felt a knot of desperation tighten in his chest. Just as he was about to give up hope, he pressed the call button one last time.

On the eighth call, he finally heard your voice, and a wave of relief washed over him. He could feel the tension in his shoulders begin to ease, but the urgency in his heart remained.

“Hello?” you answered, your tone a mix of disdain and exhaustion, the sun was barely out and he knew you didn’t enter work until later in the morning. He winced as he began to sputter out a string of words.

“I’m sorry, you need to come back and let me apologize properly. Shit, I was having a bad day and took it out on you.” He blurted out, his words tumbling over one another in his haste. “We need to talk.”

As he listened to you sigh exasperated, halting him from speaking, he gripped the ring that felt heavy in his palm. It belonged on your finger; its only purpose was to show how much he loved you.

“Keep it; I told you you’d get what you wanted, after today, you’ll never hear from me again.” You spoke out bluntly; you gave your mom a soft nod as she watched you in concern, your stepmother beside her as she tried listening to the conversation. Your rigid posture was enough to let her know who you were on the phone with.

“ __ , I know you deserve better, but please don’t do this, I want to make things right. I love you.” He pleaded, causing your breath to get caught in your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes and your heart felt heavy as you spoke up once more.

“You were so fucking mean, you’ve pushed me away so many times that I can’t deal with it anymore. We’re not meant for each other, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the person you opened up to.” You quickly hung up the phone, leaving him gripping the steering wheel in silence. You tucked your knees to your chest as your parents ran by your side, comforting you in your childhood home. You didn’t want to fight anymore; you knew you needed to let go of him. If he didn’t want your help, then there was no future together as husband and wife.

It has been nearly four months since your breakup with Jun-ho, and you still find it hard to move on. Your finger felt bare without your engagement ring on your finger, a constant reminder of the future you had left along with him. You remember the way he would slip the ring onto your finger, his eyes sparkling with love and hope, and now that memory feels like a cruel joke.

When you shared the news of your breakup with friends and extended family, their reactions were filled with disbelief; no one saw it coming, especially given the deep respect and love you both had for one another. They had always admired the way you complemented each other and how effortlessly you looked together as a couple. The shock on their faces only deepened how much you regretted everything, mourning the end of a relationship but also the dreams that you had for your future. Their attempts to console you felt hollow; you knew they didn’t truly understand how you felt.

Initially, Jun-ho tried to reach out and make things right, sending flowers to your workplace, each bouquet more extravagant than the last. He left them with a colleague who seemed to find his gestures amusing, often teasing you about how romantic he was being. But the flowers now felt like a burden, a reminder of what you had lost. His messages and calls became a relentless tide, crashing against the walls you were trying to build around your heart. You felt overwhelmed, suffocated by his attempts to reconnect, prompting you to silence his number, to create a barrier between you and the pain of his absence.

Yet, despite everything, you hesitated to block him completely. A small part of you clung to the hope that he might need you in case of an emergency, that perhaps he would reach out and you would be there to support him as you always had. It was conflicting, torn between the desire to protect your heart and the instinct to be there for someone you still loved so deeply. The thought of completely severing ties felt like a betrayal, to the promises you’ve made to him.

Then, three weeks ago, he stopped. Your mother, sensing your distress, tried to comfort you with her gentle words, suggesting that he was simply respecting the space you both needed to process everything.

Guilt washed over you like a tide, pulling you under. You felt guilty for wanting him to continue pursuing you, even after you had decided to end things. It was a confusing mix of emotions—longing for his attention while wanting to honor the choice you had made. You had thought that stepping back would bring clarity, but instead, it left you feeling more lost than ever. Every time your phone buzzed, your heart raced with hope, only to sink when it was just a notification from work or a reminder of an upcoming event.

You were brought back to reality when someone tapped on your shoulder. You gave a shaky smile to the woman who beamed up at you. Jun-ho’s mother wrapped you up in a hug, her frail arms tightly squeezing your waist. You returned the gesture and gently encased her in a hug. Once she released, she gave your reddened cheeks a soft pat.

“Look at you, are you sure you’re eating properly?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow, which you giggled at. You didn’t realize how much you missed the short woman until now.

“You know how work gets. I’ve gotten a promotion at work, so I’ve been wrapped up with things there.” You admit, shying away from the woman as she playfully smacked your shoulder. Your eyes wandered past her, worried yet hopeful to see if perhaps her son joined her at the market. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help but wonder how he was. Did he move on already? Has he been eating? Was work still eating him up?

As if she knew who you were looking for, she quickly spoke up.

“He’s at work right now; he’s a traffic cop now and has been busy with that. Told me it wasn’t worth it anymore.” Your body froze as you cast your gaze downward to the floor. You couldn’t believe it; you knew that he loved his job, even with how dangerous it was.

“Y’know, when he told me about the flowers he would leave you at work to try and apologize. I had to yell at the boy for him to realize you needed time. Even with him being my son, I viewed you as my own daughter and I understood you. I hope that you can find it in you to work it out with him. I wanted to see the two of you get married already.” She revealed everything all at once that you felt the air get knocked out of your lungs.

You missed him; you missed the apartment you shared where you would sleep by each other, you missed having late dinners with him as you watched a new show together. Even with the last few months being hard on you both, you realized that you loved him too much to even think of moving on with your life without him by your side.

You tried to talk to talk, opening your mouth and then closing it when nothing came out. She gave you a wink before walking off, wishing to see you soon again. You thought that maybe this was her plan all along, to make you realize how much you deserved to make things right and be happy again with her son.

After going back to your parent's house and letting them know your plans, you quickly earned their approval. They’ve always liked Jun-ho, he was the first boyfriend they liked and did everything perfectly to earn their praise. When he had decided to propose to you, they were ecstatic with him, they loved you dearly and saw him as the only person worthy of you.

With their quick encouragement, you made your way to your once-shared apartment, where some of your things still lay there, frozen in place. As you stand outside the door, debating whether you should back down and turn around, You ring the doorbell before you turn back. It was beginning to get dark out, and you became terrified if you made the right choice. For all you knew, a woman could open the door and laugh in your face.

Then he opened the door.

He stood still, the weariness etched on his face fading as he truly focused on you. The world around him blurred into a distant hum, and in that moment, it felt as if time had paused just for the two of you. Doubts swirled in his mind—was this really happening? Was the love of his life standing before him, looking just as beautiful as the day he lost you? The way your hair caught the light, the sparkle in your eyes, and the gentle curve of your nervous smile all seemed to pull him back to a time when everything felt right.

It took him some time to come to terms with the fact that you deserved to hear the whole truth. He had rehearsed this moment in his mind countless times, each scenario playing out with different outcomes, but none could prepare him for the reality of standing in front of you again. You were meant to be his future wife, and that meant he had to share everything with you—the good, the bad, and the painful truths he had buried deep within himself.

He had been a mess during your time apart, a whirlwind of emotions that left him feeling lost and hollow. Each day was a struggle, filled with the haunting memories of what once was and the crushing weight of regret. He constantly questioned if he would ever get the opportunity to set things right, just as he had intended to do after leaving the hospital. The days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, each moment stretching into an eternity as he grappled with the fear that he might never see you again.

But now, standing before you, he felt a flicker of hope igniting within him. The air was thick with unspoken words, and he knew he had to break the silence. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he prepared to lay bare his heart. his voice trembling slightly as he spoke

“You’re here.” He broke the silence between you two, opening the door wider for you. Taking a shallow breath in, you made your way inside, dropping your purse on the very coffee table where you left your ring.

You were unsure how to respond, not knowing where to even start. Did you apologize for leaving him through a phone call? Were you supposed to kneel down and begin crying for forgiveness? Do you yell at him for being so cruel to you that night?

Despite everything that went through your head, your first instinct was to smash your lips against his. The world around you faded into a blur, leaving only the intoxicating warmth of his presence. Almost immediately, his hands encircled your waist, drawing you nearer as he surrendered to the sensation of your delicate fingers entwined in his hair, gripping it with fervor.

A shiver cascaded over your skin, a tingly feeling that coursed through your body, and he responded with a gentle smile that rose up, making your heart race even faster. His hands glided up and down your waist in a tender caress, each movement sending an amount of warmth through you. The two of you remained entwined in that moment, lost in the magic of each other’s embrace, the outside world forgotten.

With a hint of reluctance, you pulled away, your breath mingling in the space between you. You observed as his eyes fluttered open after a brief pause. In that fleeting moment of silence, you allowed yourself to admire his features—the way the light danced in his eyes, the gentle curve of his lips, and the way his hair fell effortlessly across his forehead.

A smile blossomed on both your faces, and you felt an overwhelming sense of joy. Without thinking, you leaned back into him, your lips meeting his once more in a fervent kiss, a kiss that spoke of longing, desire, and the promise of what was yet to come. The world around you faded again, and all that existed was the two of you, lost in a moment of finally having each other after months of being separated.

“I’ve missed you so much, don’t ever let me treat you like I did ever again” He spoke between kisses, lifting you up in his arms, and like muscle memory you wrapped your legs around his waist. You let him led you up the stairs and into the room where you’ve done it several times before, only now the two of you were as desperate as ever. He kissed down your neck, unbuttoning you blouse as you tilted you head back. Less and less clothes appeared on your bodies as you finally let out the stress that had been building up between the two of you.

One year and a half later . . .

A gentle smile graced your lips as you sensed a tender kiss upon your temple. As you opened your eyes, you were met with the warm gaze of your husband, his smile radiating affection like the first light of dawn breaking through the darkness. It was a look that spoke volumes, a silent promise of support and devotion that filled your heart with joy.

He drew you nearer, mindful of your belly that carried his child, a precious life that left the both of you feeling excited. Jun-ho entwined your fingers, his touch gentle yet firm, grounding you in the present moment. His other hand lovingly traced the curve of your abdomen, his fingertips dancing lightly over the skin smiling as he felt his baby.

“Can you feel them?” he whispered, his voice breaking the calm atmosphere.You nodded, a smile breaking across your face as you felt the tiny kicks and movements of your little girl.

Jun-ho’s eyes sparkled with excitement. You could see how excited he was of becoming a dad and you shared the same sentiment .

In that intimate space, time seemed to stand still. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the life you were creating together. You felt a swell of happiness envelope you as he pressed another kiss into your hair. As you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. You were nervous of becoming a mother, much like how you felt becoming a wife but your parents, Jun-ho, and your mother-in-law all reassured you.

The moment you exchanged vows, a wave of excitement washed over you. The morning had been a flurry of nerves, each heartbeat echoing in anxiety. You had spent hours meticulously preparing, surrounded by the three remarkable women in your life—your parents, and your mother-in-law. They offered words of encouragement, shared knowing smiles, and reminded you of the love that had brought you to this moment.

After months of planning, every detail painstakingly arranged, you were now united with Jun-ho in the bond of marriage. The weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a lightness that made you feel as if you were floating.

In that instant, the doubts that had once clouded your mind seemed utterly trivial, like wisps of smoke dissipating in the breeze. You realized how silly it was to question if you and Jun-ho were meant to be. The worries that had plagued you—about the future, about compatibility, about the challenges that lay ahead—faded as you met him at the alter.. Jun-ho had showed how much he loved you, his eyes sparkling with sincerity as he spoke words that your souls were eternally intertwined, destined to find each other again and again, no matter the circumstances.

As you looked into his eyes, you felt a profound connection that transcended time and space. It was as if the universe had knew all along you were meant to be together. With each passing second, the joy of your union blossomed within you, filling your heart with an overwhelming sense of happiness. You didn’t have to wait another life to be together with Jun-ho, because you were meant to be in this one.

[arcadiaamber]

I like shipping, pricefield is fine and all, but I feel like it’s pretty strange that so often Max isn’t appreciated individually as a character outside her relationships with other characters especially Chloe! The thing is DE is kinda of a cash grab because Deck Nine is in financial trouble I think, but it got people talking about Max again and people were saying they were excited to play the game. And then the actual game came out and when people found out Chloe wasn’t in it, they were no longer interested in it and people were saying the game disrespects Chloe  and pricefield and stuff….blablabla. And that part is a little strange, because I had the impression people liked Max, but like the people forgot Max exists as a character outside of Chloe. Like hello…this is Max Caulfield we’re talking about here, she’s the main character here! she’s her own person with her own thoughts and stuff. But it feels like  at this point that a chunk of the fandom views Max as an accessory to Chloe and as a part of pricefield which is kinda sad. There were people literally saying Max cannot work on her own as a character without Chloe….which is a choice to make. Idk sorry for this essay, I didn't know where I was going in it, but the discourse is clearly making people feel weird in some ways….and you’re not wrong in your assessment of Max and DE.

NO BECAUSE I COMPLETELY AGREE WITH YOU.. i love shipping tbh like its just silly whimsical and fun but some people (like pricefielders..) only enjoy that aspect of the media and thats SO UPSETTING.. because you dont even like it you just like the ability to ship characters. and it sucks that people only view max as an accessory or that she's not interesting w/o chloe because she is her OWN PERSON. and i dont get how people dont see that and see her as a part of pricefield (as you said) rather than her OWN PERSON. she doesn't NEED to be in a relationship with chloe to be "interesting" considering the girl went through unimaginable trauma and still struggles with that pain in DE (ptsd perchance?). i dont get how people cannot look deeper into her character rather than just seeing her as an accessory to chloe. people act like chloe is max's lifeline and shes NOT.. she can function (semi) normally in society with or without chloe. i truly dont believe these self proclaimed pricefield fans actually like max, they just like chloe.

[aventurineswife]

The Weight of Ignorance

Summary: Struggling under the weight of Ratio's high expectations, you question whether you are truly capable of meeting his standards. After a harsh critique on your latest work, you find yourself in an emotional confrontation with your mentor. Beneath his demanding exterior, however, lies a deep care and a personal vulnerability that he rarely shows. Through this moment of connection, you come to understand his intentions and resolve to rise to the challenges ahead.

Tags: @valssafeplace2, Ratio x Reader, Platonic, Parental Relationship, Angst with Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Teacher-Student Relationship, Found Family Themes, Emotional Vulnerability.

Warnings: Themes of Academic Pressure and Self-doubt, Mentions of Rejection and Personal Insecurities, Emotional Angst, but with a comforting resolution.

The marble halls of the Intelligentsia Guild echoed with the sound of hurried footsteps. Dr. Ratio walked briskly, his hair catching the light of the high chandeliers. His presence was commanding, a blend of intellect and confidence that both inspired and intimidated those around him.

You struggled to keep up, clutching your notebooks tightly against your chest. Being under the mentorship of Dr. Ratio was both an honor and a burden. His standards were impossibly high, and you often felt like you were drowning in the deep waters of his expectations.

Today had been no different.

“You failed the theorem.” His words from earlier still rang in your ears. The disappointment in his voice had cut deeper than any criticism. “An error so fundamental, I wonder if you truly understand the principles I’ve taught you.”

You had tried to explain, to defend yourself, but the words stuck in your throat. The weight of his judgment was suffocating.

Now, as the two of you entered his private study, the silence was deafening. He gestured for you to sit, his piercing eyes scanning you critically. You obeyed, feeling small under his gaze.

“Do you know why I push you so hard?” he asked, his voice calmer now but no less firm.

You hesitated, unsure if this was a rhetorical question. “Because… you believe I can do better?” you ventured cautiously.

His lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “Partly. But also because ignorance is a disease—one that spreads if left unchecked. You, of all people, should understand the responsibility we bear as scholars.”

You looked down at your hands, shame creeping up your spine. “I’m trying… I really am.”

Ratio sighed, running a hand through his wavy hair. For a moment, he seemed less like the indomitable intellectual and more like a weary teacher. “I know you are.”

The admission surprised you, and you glanced up at him. He was staring out the window now, his expression unreadable.

“I was once like you,” he continued, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Young, overwhelmed, desperate to prove myself. But the world is not kind to those who falter. The Genius Society rejected me despite my achievements. Do you know why?”

You shook your head, the thought of anyone rejecting someone like him unfathomable.

“They said I lacked the ability to connect with others, to nurture potential in those beneath me.” He chuckled bitterly. “Imagine that. A flaw in my character, not my intellect.”

For the first time, you saw a crack in his armor. The weight of his own expectations, the pressure he placed on himself—it was all there, hidden beneath the layers of confidence and condescension.

“I see potential in you,” he said, turning back to you. “That’s why I’m hard on you. But potential means nothing without discipline. You must rise above your limitations.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Ratio’s expression softened, and he placed a hand on your shoulder. “You won’t. Not if you keep trying. Mistakes are inevitable, but ignorance is a choice. Choose to learn, to grow, and you’ll never truly fail.”

The weight of his hand was both grounding and reassuring. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again.

“I’ll do better,” you promised, your voice steady.

“I know you will,” he replied. “And I’ll be here to guide you. Always.”

For all his sharp edges and high standards, Dr. Ratio cared. It wasn’t always easy to see, but in moments like this, it was undeniable. You left his study that evening feeling lighter, ready to face the challenges ahead.

For him. For yourself. For the knowledge that could change the universe.

[myokk]

HIIIIIII this is your secret valentines 🥰. Just wanted to say I’m a massive fan of your work and you helped me get into HL. I’ve been a silent follower for AGES.

anyways- enough of that- what’s some cute things about Seb and My Wife™️’s relationship? Like- going through an M&M bag and only picking out idk green ones bc they’re their partners favourite. Or thinking about them whenever they see a colour.

HELLO SECRET VALENTINE♥️♥️♥️♥️

Omg when I find out who you are…🤭🫶 I CANT BELIEVE I AM PART OF WHAT GOT YOU INTO THIS FANDOM😭😭 I am just a humble girl with no chill..😆♥️♥️♥️

Pretend this is a drawing of you and your wife Eloise🥰🥰 SEBASTIAN WHO????😒

ANYWAYS onto your question🫶🫶

Eloise LOVES reading & she’s gotten Sebastian into reading muggle literature. She always laughs at him though bc before they met he considered himself an avid reader but all he was reading was magical non-fiction😆 (SO BORING🥱 WHERE ARE THE BRUTAL CHARACTER STUDIES…THE ADVENTURE…THE ROMANCE ???????) and now they have CRAZY long discussions on Dumas, Dostoyevsky, Shakespeare. She always loves hearing his perspective bc he considers things in a way she NEVER would♥️ (in happy ending land I consider them to be big patrons of the arts in the future)

He ALWAYS saves a slice of lemon tart (Eloise’s favorite food, which Sebastian figured out just by observation 🤭) if he sees that it during meals🫶 and, another food-related thing: at breakfast they work in tandem, Eloise stirring some honey into her oatmeal as she hands the cinnamon to Sebastian, and he’s always reaching across to grab some cherries for her🫶

The two of them just very quickly found themselves comforted and comfortable in each others’ presence, something that they had never experienced before.

If you’ve read my oneshots that are Eloise but not named (😆) (I’ve expanded a bit on her personality in a way I can’t yet with my angst fic) you know she is VERY quick to be flustered but she HATES IT & never wants to show emotions if she can help it (unless of course she is getting her revenge😇). Sebastian LOVES this part of her though, AND he loves the fact that he’s the only one that can truly get her to open up and see her for who she really is.

Sebastián smells like cinnamon in my own little headcanon & it’s because he’s OBSESSED with it…adds it to his coffee, tea, oats, toast, WHATEVER. So there’s always a faint cinnamon scent clinging to him and his clothes and the smell starts to bring Eloise a lot of comfort once she associates it with him. Before, she wasn’t such a big fan of cinnamon but now?🤞💘🤭

I hope these answers make some sense!! My brain is still kind of mushy but I wanted to try my best and answer well🥹♥️♥️ HOPE YOURE HAVING A GREAT DAY !!!!!!!!

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

october 1, 2021 4:15 p.m. grant's house

[juhani] hello? grant, can i call you tomorrow? it’s late.

[grant] no, you can’t. i know it’s 11 o’clock where you are right now, and i don’t really care. you answered, so you’ve trapped yourself.

[varpu, faintly] juha, if you don’t talk now, he will never call you back.

[juhani] i want to speak with you, of course i do, it’s just–

[grant] fantastic, because that’s what we’re doing. we’re talking! i have 30 years of stuff to get off my chest, and i'm sure you have your own piece to share. not sure where to start, but.

[juhani] may i ask you a question? what did you overhear at dinner the other night? are you upset i'm moving? is that it?

[grant] i mean, that stung a little after the whole “i’ll be around to build a relationship with you,” thing, but i gave you my express permission to go home, so it’s whatever. we are both adults, so i am not going to fault you for making adult decisions that improve your life. i'm more upset by you claiming you didn’t tell me about your plans or include me in the moving and wedding stuff and whatever because i'm difficult.

[juhani] that’s not what–

[grant] oh, come on. don’t kid yourself. you said it yourself, anything involving me is like pulling teeth. i heard it loud and clear.

[juhani] well, when i tell you things, you never react well. it always goes precisely like this conversation is going.

[grant] really? never? because i remember being pretty positive about your proposal and about you contacting me in the first place and about coming to dinner to acquaint myself with varpu’s kids and about meeting varpu a while back…

[grant] what i react poorly to is you leaving me out, you calling me difficult, you complaining about me in front of impressionable people, etcetera.

[juhani] i don’t want to leave you out.

[grant] that’s what varpu said, too, but i didn’t believe her, so why would i believe you?

[juhani] i have no idea how to interact with you. i've apologized to you, told you i regret the events of your childhood. nothing works.

[grant] do you regret it? because it kind of just feels like you’re doing the same shit again. abandoning me for your own self-interests. oh, and this time you’re replacing me with a brand new family you treat better.

[juhani] i'm not repl–okay, what would you prefer me do when you push me away? you told me i was difficult.

[grant] when did i say that? i mean, that's true, sure, but i would not say that to you. what i probably said that you’re misconstruing is that talking to you is hard because i'm not comfortable around you.

[juhani] and how long will it take you to be comfortable around me? i don’t know what else you want me to do. truly, i don’t, and it is not pleasant to be rejected endlessly.

[grant] well, i'd have to forgive you, but i don’t. if forgiveness was meant to happen, it would not be instant. you’d have to keep trying with me, even if i piss you off, even if i push you away. you’re my fucking father, it’s your job. you show up for your kid even if they’re horrible or annoying. you never turn your back on them. but, you know, you didn’t show up for the first 22 years you were around, so you’d have to try extra hard now to change my mind.

[grant] but honestly, i will never be comfortable around you. i've realized that over the last few days. i did actually think if you just kept trying, i'd relax and be less on edge, but nope. you could become an honest-to-god saint tomorrow, and i'll still be furious because nothing will make me understand why you couldn’t have been a decent person when i was a kid. like, when i needed you.

[grant] and i don’t get why you weren't. i don't. i'm serious. i can’t comprehend it. clearly, you have it in you to be a decent person. you love varpu's kids. you're fatherly towards them. you take them on vacation, you invite them to house and wedding venue tours, you tell them about and include them in your hobbies, you remember details about them, you smile at them without being forced, you go to their weddings and don’t flip out about them being queer even though you were viscerally disgusted with me when you found out–

[juhani] you shouldn’t bring them into this. it isn’t fair. and i've taken you on vacation before, for one.

[grant] i am being petty, but i think it's fair because i'm not shitting on them specifically. and yeah, okay, you took me on vacation once. you took me to finland exactly once, but i never met your family, and i remember nothing other than the plane rides.

[grant] and you shouldn’t do this. we don’t need to split hairs. you don’t need to crawl through that list of grievances and “well, actually” me as many times as you can manage. one vacation changes nothing. that does not erase all the times you sat there like a lame duck and ignored me or mocked me or let my mother abuse me. there is nothing for you to pat yourself on the back about.

[grant] nothing.

[juhani] so, what are you upset about now?

[grant] why?

[juhani] why what?

[grant] why are you like this? why were you a terrible father? why have no heart for me or my sisters? why did you save all your love for someone else’s kids?

[grant] oh, and how about cerise? you sure didn’t care about your bastard kids either, did you?

[grant] shit. i'm sorry. that just kind of came out. that’s not how i wanted to, you know, pepper that into this conversation. i was going to save that for the end.

[juhani] how do you know about her?

[grant] doesn't matter. it's a long story.

[grant] on that note, what is up with the secret daughter? how’d that happen? is she the only one, too, or should i be on the lookout for any other siblings? and hey, you only divorced my mother in the last few years, so you were cheating. how many times did you fuck around on her, and why would you? you wouldn’t divorce her because you were afraid of her, but apparently it's no big deal to cheat.

[juhani] grant, how can i answer you if you don't allow me to talk? cerise’s mother michelle is a doctor. your mother and i were both at a conference in detroit about healthcare outreach, and…

[juhani] i know it seems contradictory, given how long i stayed with your mother, but i was unhappy in the marriage. i met michelle there at the conference, and she was kind and intelligent, and i suppose the rest of the story should be obvious to you.

[grant] goddamn, man. i hate my mother, but that’s bold: sleeping with another woman right in front of her face.

[grant] did she ever find out?

[juhani] eventually. you remember how she was with the finances. she tracked all the money going in and out of the household. you couldn’t have one cent go missing without being accused of something, and she’d always blame it on some incident with her brother and start ranting about him.

[juhani] look, the agreement with michelle was that i'd stay out of her life and send child support, and she wouldn’t interfere with my family either. i used to lie and tell your mother the child support funds were going somewhere important, but she didn't believe me very long. she did finally question me and find out the truth.

[grant] and?

[juhani] in hindsight, her reaction reminds me a lot of the one she had when you lashed out at her during your graduation dinner. very little left her speechless, but that did. initially, i should clarify. she would go on to never let me live cerise’s existence down.

[juhani] and to answer your question, as far as i know, cerise is the only other child.

[grant] as far as you know?

[juhani] i cannot rule out further surprises.

[grant] jesus christ. my grandmother is right, all men are dogs, but you most of all.

[juhani] does it upset you that much?

[grant] again, i don’t like my mother, but if i needed any more proof that you’re more spineless than a sea sponge, this is it. you were so unhappy with my mother that you’d cheat on her, but you’d not divorce her when your kids were vulnerable.

[grant] you disgust me. you slept around and thought with your dick before you spared a single thought for the kids you let my mother abuse. or for yourself! fuck you. if you’re going to be that selfish, at least be selfish enough to prioritize yourself and leave the woman making you that miserable!

[grant] and now i don’t believe you when you say you wouldn’t leave her back then because you were scared of her. do you seriously mean to tell me it’s less terrifying to cheat on her than to just walk out of the house and never come back?

[grant] i did that, you know? when i'd had enough of my mother, i told her as much and then never spoke to her again. and guess what? wouldn’t you be so stunned to find out she’s never tracked me down, never tried to call or email to reel me back in? she left me alone after i told her to go fuck herself!

[grant] and technically, you know it's possible to leave her, too. what did you say about the divorce? that she just rolled over and let you do it and was fine with you just coughing up all the assets and dipping?

[grant] exhibits A, B, and C that she’s a coward, too. she thinks she’s the boss, but if you fight back hard enough, she gives up. you could have left her at any point in time.

[grant] god. oh my god. you stupid, spineless motherfucker. i thought i'd maxed out on anger. apparently not!

[grant] you really could have been a better father. you could have had your whole little life overhaul decades ago, and you could have saved the entire family so much pain. you, me, elizabeth, kelly…

[grant] i should have suspected as much, and i guess i did, but it's shocking to realize over and over just how useless you are as a father. i think it can't get any worse and then it does. you are a complete and utter failure as a parent.

[grant] this is why i can’t forgive you. you didn’t have to mess up so badly. but no. whatever you got out of the relationship was enough to convince you to sit there and watch my mother ruin all of us, and even thought you weren't happy with her, you got by with fucking other women and only regretted staying a billion years later when you noticed you had nothing of substance left in life but my mother. and that’s a pretty depressing way to live, isn’t it?

[juhani] i stayed because i thought we deserved each other.

[grant] with that attitude, maybe you did.

[grant] listen, i'll admit this, no problem. it’s no one’s fault that she is the way that she is. it’s not even yours. she’s abusive, and what she does to other people is her fault and her responsibility. she’s excellent, too, at convincing you to just go along with it and never question her. it's not that hard to get caught in her trap at first, and she will try her very best to break you. but at some point, you have to question anyway. at some point, you have to recognize you deserve better and do something about it.

[grant] but you didn’t. not until it was too late for it to mean anything.

[grant] i would never think i've done everything right, but in the end, i've respected myself enough to make better choices and do something about the situation i was in, and i've had to do that because the adults in my life weren’t responsible or organized enough to fix things before responsibility fell into my hands.

[juhani] you are a braver and a better man than i.

[grant] i'm glad i am, but do you know how exhausting it is to be brave all the time?

[grant] i am because you weren’t. it is entirely because you failed. you weren’t brave enough to give a fuck about yourself or your kids, so i've had to be brave my entire life. brave enough to survive my childhood, then brave enough to leave. and guess what? i don’t want to be brave. i just want to exist. and back then, i just wanted to be a kid.

[grant] just a kid.

[grant] i wanted to come home from school and play with my pokemon cards and hear my mom and my dad say, “hi honey! how was your day? we love you!" i didn’t want to live in fear of what horror would befall me each and every day.

[grant] fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. you stole my childhood. you stole elizabeth’s childhood. you stole kelly’s childhood.

[grant] you and my mother, but you could have done something. you could have given us our childhoods back. you could have done something! you should have done something!

[grant] you didn’t have to do everything right even. parents mess up, i know that, but you could have at least tried. the bar was on the floor. i would have over the moon living in a single parent household with a father who at least showed up to my hockey games if he wasn’t busy at work and gave me a hug every once in a while.

[grant] and you know what, you did more than steal our childhoods. because you couldn’t stand to sacrifice your comfort long enough to take care of your kids, we all have to live in permanent hell. i have to spend the rest of my life freaking out when someone walks up behind me or speaks too loudly or–god forbid–touches me! it took me years to finally learn not to flinch when someone high fives me! and kelly–i don’t know what she deals with, but i know her life can’t be peaceful.

[grant] again, i am not blaming you for what my mother did–i know she was not kind to you either– but i do blame you for not even trying to stop her or get away from her. you were an adult with power, and you didn't use an ounce of it. actually, you did use it, just not for good. you threw me specifically under the bus because it was easier to let my mother use me as a punching bag than you.

[juhani] you’re right.

[juhani] you’re right, grant.

[grant] i have nothing else to say, short of "fuck you" again. i think i'm done yelling at you.

[grant] no, wait, one last thing. what did you even see in my mother in the first place? what was so enticing about her that you’d stay with her so long and ditch your college sweetheart for her?

[juhani] i don’t know. i don’t know anymore.

[grant] i guess it was two people drawn to each other's misery.

[grant] great. well, that’s all, folks.

[grant] good luck with the new family. maybe you can make it right with someone else and enjoy a totally fresh start because you will never make it right with me, and i will never let you forget what you did to me and my sisters. and don’t lose varpu again, by the way. she is, like, far out of your league–so far it's not even funny–and you are lucky to have this second chance with her and to have a good relationship with her kids.

[grant] also, just so it's clear, i don't want to speak to you anymore after this. don't call me, i won't call you either, except in one circumstance. i'll consider it on the day my mother kicks the bucket. we can toast to the end of that chapter of our lives and hope that the haunting ends. because surely you have to feel a little haunted, too, right? i have a sinking suspicion that’s why you reconnected with me. you don’t care about me. you care about that fresh start, about making yourself feel better about wasting your life and fucking up everyone around you.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Remember: The burning sensation is part of the process.

[grinchwrapsupreme]

being super normal about White calling Billy "a dreamer"after the events of Maybe No Go

[gayemoji]

for how bad killing eve got the books are infinitely worse.

[whimsyprinx]

i know it’s selfish of me to want people to reach out first or like generally because people have lives, they’re busy, they’re dealing with their own shit, maybe they just don’t think to even keep in contact, etc etc but that doesn’t make it hurt any less or make me feel any less unwanted when it feels like half the people i thought were my friends don’t seem like they think of me as their friend.

[shadesofmauve]

I want to step away from the art-vs-artist side of the Gaiman issue for a bit, and talk about, well, the rest of it. Because those emotions you're feeling would be the same without the art; the art just adds another layer.

Source: I worked with a guy who turned out to be heavily involved in an international, multi-state sex-slavery/trafficking ring.

He was really nice.

Yeah.

It hits like a dumptruck of shit. You don't feel stable in your world anymore. How could someone you interacted with, liked, also be a truly horrible person? How could your judgement be that bad? How can real people, not stylized cartoon bogeymen, be actually doing this shit?

You have to sit with the fact that you couldn't, or probably couldn't, have known. You should have no guilt as part of this horror — but guilt is almost certainly part of that mess you're feeling, because our brains do this associative thing, and somehow "I liked [the version of] the guy [that I knew]", or his creations, becomes "I made a horrible mistake and should feel guilty."

You didn't, loves, you didn't.

We're human, and we can only go by the information we have. And the information we have is only the smallest glimpse into someone else's life.

I didn't work closely with the guy I knew at work, but we chatted. He wasn't just nice; he was one of the only people outside my tiny department who seemed genuinely nice in a workplace that was rapidly becoming incredibly toxic. He loaned me a bike trainer. Occasionally he'd see me at the bus stop and give me a lift home.

Yup. I was a young woman in my twenties and rode in this guy's car. More than once.

When I tell this story that part usually makes people gasp. "You must feel so scared about what could have happened to you!" "You're so lucky nothing happened!"

No, that's not how it worked. I was never in danger. This guy targeted Korean women with little-to-no English who were coerced and powerless. A white, fluent, US citizen coworker wasn't a potential victim. I got to be a person, not prey.

Y'know that little warning bell that goes off, when you're around someone who might be a danger to you? That animal sense that says "Something is off here, watch out"?

Yeah, that doesn't ping if the preferred prey isn't around.

That's what rattled me the most about this. I liked to think of myself as willing to stand up for people with less power than me. I worked with Japanese exchange students in college and put myself bodily between them and creeps, and I sure as hell got that little alarm when some asian-schoolgirl fetishist schmoozed on them. But we were all there.

I had to learn that the alarm won't go off when the hunter isn't hunting. That it's not the solid indicator I might've thought it was. That sometimes this is what the privilege of not being prey does; it completely masks your ability to detect the horrors that are going on.

A lot of people point out that 'people like that' have amazing charisma and ability to lie and manipulate, and that's true. Anyone who's gotten away with this shit for decades is going to be way smoother than the pathetic little hangers-on I dealt with in university. But it's not just that. I seriously, deeply believe that he saw me as a person, and he did not extend personhood to his victims. We didn't have a fake coworker relationship. We had a real one. And just like I don't know the ins-and-outs of most of my coworkers lives, I had no idea that what he did on his down time was perpetrate horrors.

I know this is getting off the topic, but it's so very important. Especially as a message to cis guys: please understand that you won't recognize a creep the way you might think you will. If you're not the preferred prey, the hind-brain alarm won't go off. You have to listen to victims, not your gut feeling that the person seems perfectly nice and normal. It doesn't mean there's never a false accusation, but face the fact that it's usually real, and you don't have enough information to say otherwise.

So, yeah. It fucking sucks. Writing about this twists my insides into tense knots, and it was almost a decade ago. I was never in danger. No one I knew was hurt!

Just countless, powerless women, horrifically abused by someone who was nice to me.

You don't trust your own judgement quite the same way, after. And as utterly shitty as it is, as twisted up and unstead-in-the-world as I felt the day I found out — I don't actually think that's a bad thing.

I think we all need to question our own judgement. It makes us better people.

I don't see villains around every corner just because I knew one, once. But I do own the fact that I can't know, really know, about anyone except those closest to me. They have their own full lives. They'll go from the pinnacles of kindness to the depths of depravity — and I won't know.

It's not a failing. It's just being human. Something to remember before you slap labels on people, before you condemn them or idolize them. Think about how much you can't know, and how flawed our judgement always is.

Grieve for victims, and the feeling of betrayal. But maybe let yourself off the hook, and be a bit slower to skewer others on it.

[dukeofankh]

If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.

"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.

Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.

Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.

You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."

Problem with that being:

1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.

2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.

3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.

4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.

I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.

[thespacesay]

ID: a tweet by @theLiamNissan from 26 Jun 23.

Republicans will tell you "the gays are coming for your children" and then immediately turn around and pass a law making it legal to marry 13 year old girls in Kentucky.

/ end ID

Republicans demand trauma and abuse.

[luminni]

This is some shit Johnny would say, it just is I'm sorry.

Johnny hates your new boyfriend. It burns in his loins every time you come over and complain about something stupid the git said. So often that now when you take a particularly large sigh, he's immediately asking "fuckin' 'ell, what he do this time eh?"

It hurts even more when you gush about something "good" your boyfriend did, even when it's just the bare minimum. Yeah he opened the door for you on a date? Did you know that Johnny would have lifted up the globe had you asked him? Do you have any idea the things he would do if you so much as asked? No you didn't, because he was fairly certain you only saw him as your good friend, as you had been for years.

And Jesus did it infuriate him when you "laughed" your boyfriend's pitiful excuses for a joke. It wasn't your real laughter, it was a kind of controlled giggle. Johnny knew a couple words from him could have you full on belly laughing, gripping onto the nearest surface (usually his arm) to steady yourself. The worst part of it was, the sorry excuse of a man that had wormed his way into your life looked so proud of himself when you gave that fake laugh. Johnny wanted to wipe that grin off his face so bad. But he behaved himself, for you...most of the time, but this is Johnny we're talking about, he's nothing if not petty.

He pretends to like your sorry excuse of a boyfriend in front of you so that you invite him on your dates because you hope they can be friends. Johnny just wants to ruin things

When you make food, Johnny is there. Reminding your boyfriend he would never be the first person to try your recipes.

"Added some pepper since las' time aye lass?"

He then proceeds to taste test form the same spoon as you, side eyeing your "man".

And when you do serve the food, he eats 10x more than he usually does which is saying a lot for him. Just has to mention how many calories he's been burning at the gym lately. Does your boyfriend work out? Oh he doesn't? Hm, interesting.

Also the king of flirty jokes but turns it to 100 when he's around your new boyfriend.

"Jesus, you eat like a horse"

"Aye 's not the only thing about me thas' like a horse"

All said with that shit eating grin he knows pisses your boyfriend off.

Johnny knows this "relationship" (he refuses to believe you actually like the tadger) isn't going to last long anyway. He's the only person who could ever make you truly happy. The only person you'd wait for at the airport every time he got back from deployment. The only person you'd text out of no where at 3am to tell him you were hungry. He just had to help you see it was all and scare off your pathetic partner. If he couldn't manage it, he knew a couple big scary guys that could follow him home at night.

[navybrat817]

Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.

Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.

He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.

If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.

Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.

As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”

Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.

The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.

“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”

He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.

You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”

He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”

You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”

He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”

“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”

“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”

He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.

“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”

“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”

He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.

“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”

A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”

Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.

You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.

He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.

His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.

“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”

He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.

Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.

“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”

He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.

Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”

His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”

It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.

“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”

It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”

Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.

You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”

“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.

“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.

“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”

Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”

He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.

I love you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”

His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.

You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.

“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.

“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”

Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.

Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.

And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.

“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”

“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”

You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”

He titled his head. “What’s that?”

A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”

So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

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