#immediately gets sentenced to 15 years of therapy

[hotluncheddie]

NYEHEJEHEHEHEE I FINISHED THE EPISODE…so i come bearing the skankiest of thots about my little swamp puppy. i like to believe that gator had a shorter prison sentence of like 5 years and then like 15 in a group home with the chance for parole due to the coercion and his involvement from a young age. he adjusts to a more liberal mindset after continued contact with dot and group therapy, in addition to his blindness, and the norms of the prison. this includes jerking off. just because he can’t see doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have the same desires, and LORD does he have them. the first time he has sex is actually while he’s out on parole, and good lord is it better than he ever could have imagined. it’s like the rest of his body is even more sensitive after the amount it’s undergone, and when you finally touch his dick, he immediately convulses and squirts everywhere. you bring him through two other orgasms that night without ever letting him touch your pussy. over the next few months, he whines and begs, crying for your pussy. but you never let him touch you, not even your boobs. you’ve sucked him off, given him hand jobs, made him cum just from playing with his balls AND just his hairy tits, and of course he begs for your fingers in his ass when he can’t touch your pussy. when you finally acquiesce, he almost weeps with relief. he expects you to guide him gently like you have been with everything else, and the tears in his eyes turn to tears of pleasure when he feels you ride his face like no tomorrow, moaning and calling him a gorgeous slut. later, when you settle on his cock, hands pressed on his plush belly and praises on your lips, he can’t do anything but buck up into you and tell you how much he loves you (and maybe he calls you mommy but you decide to address that a different day) just RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA MORE FLUFFY THAN FILTH BUT MY BRAIN IS TOO OVERLOADED FOR COHRENCS -🫚

GOOD FUCKIN EP TOO RIGHT?? such a good series!!!!

BUT YESSSSS GIVE THAT BOY A FUTURE!!!! he earned it, i'm obsessed with this

swamp puppy!!!! little swamp puppy!!!!!! my swamp puppyyyy!!!!!!

that such a nice idea though - he finds this person who lets him be sweet, lets his cum quick and recover slow and he so so so wants to be good enough for pussy, but he'll accept whatever he gets.

maybe you were going to let him touch, but he came with the sweetest whine from just little kissing and a grind of your hand. so you know you have to draw it out, improve his stamina, because its a little ridiculous. but its okay because his cock goes so cute and flush when its hard, weeps so prettily on his soft thighs, softening down into a little nub that's still so sensitive, he flinches if you trace over the skin, jolts and keens when you give it a mean little flick. panting a whining so quickly and easily, already getting hard again.

you let him do other things for you instead, cooing that he has to earn pussy, not a good enough boy for it yet, puppy has to be trained first.

and he just gives you the bushiest little smile, nodding and agreeing.

so you let him rub your shoulders and massage your feet with his big strong hands. let him kneel in front of you a listen to the slick sounds of you fingering yourself. you let him feel your wet, dripping fingers when you wipe them off in his chest hair, coming untouched, still kneeling in-front of you, from your wet fingers playing with both his nipples.

he shivers and whines and pants and keens so sweetly at every step. likes saying thank you over and over again, kissing whatever part he can reach of you, sucking and biting if you tell him he can.

sometimes when he's doing as you say, fulfilling whatever action you gave him or letting you do as you please to him, you'll hear these breathy little whispers; ''m a good boy', 'the best puppy'. like hes secretly talking himself through it, reminding himself of the things you've told him, goal oriented and still dreaming of the day he gets your pussy.

and he is getting better, can last longer with your hand on his dick, can handle you sinking down till he hits the back of your throat now without blowing his load the moment you even come close to gagging. can even handle some pressure on his taint, said he promises he'll last long enough for you to get two fingers into his tight little hole next time you feel in the mood to finger him, and you believe him. believe him because he let out the sweetest, whiniest little gasp when you let him trace over the length and girth of your dildo, went the prettiest shade of pink and drooled all over his lap listening to you fuck yourself with it. he wants it inside him, you know he does, but puppy has a long way to go before he earns that.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

i feel like that's enough for now, even tho he didn't even get to eat pussy whoops or say mommy whoooooops - be he should and he will

[flamesandatattoogun]

fucked up family

So let’s just fully unpack.

like really really unpack.

Growing up I thought my dad was like the most normal person I had in my life. Like my best friend. We were always close and cool. my mom was a bartender, who did what she could with what she had, and we also are close, but it’s more so I raised her. I’m still taking care of her. She has been a drug addict in my childhood, an alcoholic most of my life. It’s been difficult at times.

in a nutshell, I made choices, they were terrible, I went to prison for awhile. My mom wasn’t around and didn’t even know I was in for years, my dad however faithfully was there twice a week.

great guy. The best.

his wife tho.

she’s neurodivergent. She is still in a trauma bond relationship with her own mother who is also neurodivergent. Her brother, 50 yowm lives with her mom still and is completely codependent. My brother is 30, and has been raised the same way. I was kicked out of my dads house at 15 when I became pregnant, my dad didn’t want to, but she told him I would never “figure it out” (or give my son up for adoption as they were trying to force me to do, and when I didn’t-i had to leave), he was wrong I feel for going a long with it. But it happened.

during prison, she never really came a long with my dad to come see me. Even her mother came to see me and was shocked that her daughter never really showed up. But I was not. When she married my dad, I was always just a thing in the way to her. She has always accused me of theft, of incest with my father (she has also accused my brothers gf’s of sleeping with my dad. And been jealous of his own sisters). When I came home, my dad had asked me to come to her therapy session to “support her and work things out” stupidly, I agreed, and as soon as I got there, it was like walking into an intervention. all eyes turned towards me, hands folded in laps demurely. And then the conversation was directed at me. The therapist immediately started telling me that I was there because my step mom had things she was holding on to (never mind that it was me who was a CHILD so how could she hold onto anything against a child? I left at fifteen. Shouldn’t it be I who has something to let go of?) but she starts letting my step mom describe how I had supposedly stolen these ugly Knick knack trinkets from their house, that by the way, no one wants, that only middle aged white ladies buy from Home goods Clearance simply because it was there. When I denied it vehemently, the therapist had the audacity to ask me if there was a possibility “if I had done it and forgotten”. I stared at her stupid face and as far as I could into her eyes for what felt like forever, “…….no.”

I should have left then. I should have walked out immediately. I kept looking to my dad waiting for him to step in and say something, anything.

and like always, he didn’t.

I have seen this same man lift a man who hit me over his head, and throw him down a flight of stairs. Yet he cowers to this haggard, bitter woman in fear of what(?) I can’t be sure.

The session became more heated, because dear reader, step mother’s simple mind only has one strategy for winning arguments. She thinks herself so very clever if she manages to throw you out of balance emotionally. If she can manage to get you angry enough to start yelling, angry enough to say things you don’t mean, she can switch skins from abuser to victim right before your eyes.

Step mother is not more clever than I am though, she’s actually quite daft.

so at all costs, I do not engage. I do not yell. I do not speak first. I do not say anything without saying it twice to myself in my mind. I was doing just that when a sentence snatched at me from reality, I looked up.

“you hate me?” I asked interrupting her soliloquy in a tearful whisper.

her eyes looked like a coyote deciding if it should begin chewing on its own leg yet or not, “what?!” She asked me snidely.

“you said, ‘when I started hating you…’, you hate me?” I couldn’t hold back the tears, but I managed to look up squarely at her.

I could see the fire in her eyes eyes, this was not going the way she wanted. I didn’t care, I didn’t think she outright hated me, wtf did I ever do to her but live? She snapped her chin up as she answered indignantly, “that’s how I feel” she responded, almost proud of herself for her honesty, I guess(?). If she couldn’t be the victim, I guess she’d try on confidence, never mind that she’s never had any.

“I don’t really know why I’m here then. I mean, I came to help, but I can’t fix that. But I would have loved you.” I could barely squeeze out as I pathetically stood, tears flowing. “I love you both.”

I looked at the therapist, “shame on you.”

and then I left.

fast forward five years.

as with all things my dad-he tries to push things under the rug and pretend things are fine and make us be around each other and never talk about the past.

that’s what we did.

but I’ve never forgotten.

since then though, I have gone into therapy, and have done a lot of work on myself realizing my values, my worth, my boundaries, and the behaviors that reinforce those beliefs.

I also found someone that reinforces my thoughts and supports me in every way, and protects me and my journey and my heart.

I’m lucky. I was managing my dad’s farm for him, and recently have come to the conclusion that he doesn’t have my back. He picked her years ago. He always has. He lets her say, do, and act however she wants, no matter how reckless, racist (I’m mixed islander & white), disrespectful, irrational, or deceitful she is.

I���ve realized that I’m ready to buy a house, I have been, but held back bc my dad needed me at the farm. I have a full time job on top of that, but live on the farm. It’s a lot. And they are here all the time. I take care of my great grandmother here, who hates my step mother, and she will be coming with to said new home. When I told Grannie I was moving, I asked her if she wanted to go, and she said “Well I’m not staying here!”

i saw a quote from Mark Groves that reads,

“When you say no to people who don’t show up for you, you not only honor your value, you raise it.”

I realized I can’t keep putting off my life for someone who won’t stick up for me to someone who is ruining all of his relationships, mentally straining him, and a garbage human being. I love him, but I can’t keep enable him to be enable her to mess with my peace in any way, so I have to distance myself from him. She wins. She can have him. It literally breaks my heart because he was the only friend I’ve had my whole life. I moved around a lot, was isolated, and just don’t trust many people so I don’t have more than like 3 friends. But my dad has always been like my ride-or-die, or at least I thought. I guess I should thank her, bc as it turns out, the only moments I’ve ever actually had a dad was under wife co-signed borrowed time. I just didn’t realize it.

I’m not even angry. I’m just stressed.

and sad af. And disillusioned. I need to move so I can move on. I need to move so I can process this hurt and these thoughts and feelings I’ve uncovered.

we’re supposed to have a family meeting tomorrow about us moving and the farm, and I’m scared it’s a trap. My man says that if for one second they get off topic, or she starts in on me, he does not care what I want, he will kick her, and everyone else out.

It’s funny how u think u have something special ur whole life, only to discover u have been fooling yourself. and just when u convince yourself its because it doesn’t exist at all, the universe gives you the real thing anyways at no cost at all to protect you from the thing u thought was the miracle.

[lilacastar]

KDA 18: Familiar patterns

Small pricks in the back of his neck reminded Kalrick he didn't shower after cutting his hair.

He sat up, dizzy and needing food, but lighter. His phone read 3:06, and hundreds of unopened messages. God it'd been so long since he was able to check his phone in the morning. The top message was from a new group chat Randal and 5K started that morning. He replied back he was fine, and would keep them updated.

Everything else was pretty old. A lot of people asking where he was, how he was doing, if he was alright. All of them unanswered. Eventually people had completely stopped trying to contact him it seemed. There were more messages at the bottom, and the fresher the date, the less frequency.

Until he reached January, two years ago.

Jan 12

Haven: Awesome! I've booked you for next week. Do you have the design you want inked?

You: image.png

Haven: Looks good, I can definitely do that :)

Jan 15

Haven: What you up to?

Jan 19

Haven: Wanna come over?

Jan 20

Haven: Right. no one talks to you, you come to me or something emo

Kalrick starred at the image he sent. The same sigil on his body. He didn't remember sending this at all or even who Haven was. But it had to be him, since the demonic didn't use his phone at all. There must've been a period of time right before the possession that would make things clearer.

Anyone with mild information about occult knew better than to tattoo a demons sigil on themself. Just as bad if not worse than getting your boyfriend's name on your arm, and he still didn't know who was on his body.

A quick flip through his grimoire didn't show previous signs of working with that demon. He'd worked with Azazel, Vassago, Dantalion, and Astaroth. He didn't have the patience for Lucifer or anyone like that, but it didn't matter. He'd never work with someone enough to tattoo their sigil on himself.

But this was progress. He had someone to find, a name even. A quick internet search could probably even find this tattoo artist. Now he needed to confront his mom.

Down the hall, he stepped into the living room where she peered through her cateye glasses onto her phone.

"You were out late." She said without looking up.

"I was." He replied.

"What time did you get back?"

"Late. I wanted to spend the night but I'm not ready."

"I don't remember saying that was ok."

"Well, mom, I'm also 26 and still am on the lease to the apartment under my name, so there's that."

"Oh, well excuse me for caring."

"Mom, that's not what I wanted talk about." He sighed. "I know you're into Jesus, but did we used to go to church when I was a kid?"

Her attention broke from her phone, immediately facing him.

"Oh-" her voice cracked. "You're hair!" Her hands fluttered and motioned, but she didn't touch it.

"Yeah, I cut it. But did you take me to church when I was little?"

Her hands finally found a place over her mouth, attempting to quiet her instant tears.

"Your hair," She cried and shook her hair. "It was so beautiful."

"It wasn't for you." he said flattly.

"You used to have it like that as a child, it was so pretty and I just got you back," She whined.

"And I also cut it as a child."

His words only made her cry harder, and she removed her glasses to wipe the tears away.

"Did I go to therapy as a kid?"

"Your hair... I had my baby back and- you seemed happy again. I just-"

She mumbled something Kalrick couldn't make out.

"It's not about you." He said softly. But her reaction didn't get worse or better. She probably didn't hear.

"I don't want to lose you again," She sniffed.

The guilt that had kept him calm all 5 minutes evaporated in the same sentence. Making her cry was never his intention, he didn't cut his hair to make her sad or get back or anything. It made him feel sorry for asking anything relating to the past at all.

But the match of anger struck back.

"Why are you afraid of losing me?" He snapped and she flinched at the sudden change of volume. "You didn't even notice anything was wrong!"

He stormed out of the house, chest and fists burning. The bright sun only reinforced the heat that flushed to his cheeks, blazing into his walking ritual.

Why did she deserve to miss him when she didn't even notice he was gone all that time? Why did she get any opinion on his body when the only times she liked the way he looked, he was at his worst? It wasn't her hair, it was his, and everyone felt entitled to him.

He completed the ritual, and immediately felt the desired calming effect. The sickness from last night retreated from high tide, and embraced the wave of peace.

Back to the house, he showered away the stray hairs, completed the ritual once more, and closed his bedroom behind him. He browsed through the grimoire, refreshing his memory on visualization and protection. He needed it now more than ever.

His mom knocked softly three times on the other side of the door. He paused, refusing to speak and she knocked another set of three.

"Kalrick?" She called gently. "You know I love you, and I always will. "

He said nothing, but instead put the book inside his bag and texted the chat he'd be on his way to the apartment.

"I didn't mean to upset you," She continued. "And I'm sorry..."

He held his position, waiting to zip up the other half of the bag.

"I'm so sorry I made you feel like I don't."

He resumed the motion, and visualized a barrier of protection along with the same sensation of falling. Falling like he did off the roof, falling through the motion of leaving the gate out front. He concentrated on drawing the same energy, and visualized the sigil crisp and vibrant.

The energy pooled, and like surface tension breaking, overflowed and burst out. The room around him folded like oragami and with a pop inside his ears, the pressure changed and tore through. His knees gave out and the rest of him crashed against his apartment door.

He tumbled through, backpack weighing him down stomach first on the carpet.

"What the fuck!" 5K Shouted, dropping the blunt he was about to light and nearly falling off the couch. His face was so gaunt, he'd probably seen less scarry roaches.

Something ticked from the back of Kalrick's skull into his sense of direction, and his orientation loaded in all at once. The coordinates locked and instantaneously became aware exactly which way everything was faced. He knew exactly how and where to do the ritual from his position.

"I'll be right back," Kalrick shoved himself up and walked right out the door without closing it.

His mind screamed for sleep, but he knew better now to trust his body's instinct. It was the ritual that gave him energy, the ritual he couldn't function without. And using magick to teleport actually helped him reorientate. It was just like his spells in his grimoire, all he needed was to practice a little and it sparked right back.

Just like at his mom's home, his body knew exactly what to do and followed its instinct around the apartment complex.

"Get back here, fucker!" 5K shouted after him. "Where you going?" He panted, catching up to him.

Kalick continued the ritual, completely ignoring his roommate. 5K tugged at his arm, hoping to grab his attention but instead all he got were strange looks from the passersby. He didn't have the capacity to care what people thought of the two strange kids- grown men stumbling around the apartment. His choppy hair and strange walking pattern, his friend chasing him down in his socks.

He looped, circled and followed the correct way until landing back at his door, letting out a sigh of replenishment. He blinked, becoming able to concentrate on more than the need to balance himself.

5K stared at him.

"I'm good now." Kalrick nodded.

"What the fuck was that?" 5K said.

"Don't worry about it," He entered the building and let 5K catch the door after him.

"How did you get here?"

"Teleported. I don't know how soon Randal will get here, but I sent it in the chat I'm ready to bounce as soon as we're all here."

"Where are we going?"

"Tattoo shops." He gestured to his wrists, where the disrupted sigils marked his skin. "Let's find out who gave me this shit."

"Ok, but I need to smoke first." He nodded.

That was an oddly instant agreement. Kalrick's memory of the past was distant and foggy, but he doubted 5K being like this before. It's not that they were especially close or anything, but he was certain this wasn't the same. Nothing was the same, but his character and mannerisms had slid in a direction he couldn't see.

"Make yourself at home," 5K said. "Fuck- this is your home. Uh, you know what I mine. Mean."

"It probably didn't feel like it, since you said I wasn't here most of the time. I feel bad that you got the shit end of the stick in all this."

"Nah, you're good, honest." He shook his head. "I'll get you some water."

He took out a red solo cup from a stack, and next the pitcher from the fridge. Kalrick watched curiously, as he placed the plastic cup in the sink before pouring the water. He gripped the pitcher with both hands, but they still shook unsteadily. Roughly one-third of the glass worth missed, draining into the sink.

Once full, he refilled the pitcher, returning it to the fridge and stiffly gave Kalrick the cup.

"Um, thanks." Kalrick responded, both taking a seat on the couch.

The skinny, tattooed friend finally picked up the blunt he'd dropped.

Kalrick sipped the water, pretending as if he weren't eagerly waiting to see how 5K would light up. The previous night his fingers weren't able to unwrap the newspaper well, and just a moment ago he couldn't pour water normal. How would he be able to flick a lighter?

5K brought out his lighter but did not snap his wrist or flick the mechanism. But instead pressed down a button and the flame awoke. He drew a long breath, settling into the indent on the couch.

The smell brought back fond memories and unwinding anxiety, when his friend extended his arm. It was shottily stick'n poked in several places, and spots near his wrist were burned from ciggerets.

He accepted the offering, inhaled, then passed it back. Two years of a T break was going to feel so good. Within a few minutes of passing it between each other, Kalrick's fear of social inadiquacy subsided. 5K was a chill guy, he'd understand his curiousity.

"Hey," Kalrick started.

His friend nodded in agckowlagment.

"I know my body went through a hell of a lot of things without me recently. And right now I'm trying to make sense of all that. But..."

5K looked up at the ceiling and exhaled more smoke, displaying his large adams apple. Had his nose always been crooked? It seemed to have been broken and rehealed wrong.

"But?" His grey eyes glanced at Kalrick's dark ones.

"But what happened to you? I'm not trying to be rude, but you're not the same."

"Yeah," He sighed. "I havn't been completly honest with you."

[qqueenofhades]

Okay, I’ve read Joe Biden’s plans.

I’ve just sat down and spent several hours actually reading all the damn plans on his website, the whole thing, so you don’t have to. And here’s the conclusion:

They’re pretty good.

Are they absolutely everything we want immediately? Maybe not. Are they a solid Democratic agenda anyway? Yes they are. Are they better than Trump?

Light years!

His Violence Against Women plan is lengthy, detailed, and pays specific attention to violence against Native, lesbian and bisexual, low-income, disabled, rural, transgender (especially trans women of color) immigrant, domestic abuse victims, and other vulnerable women. He calls for replacing and expanding Obama-era policies and funding for campus sexual assault programs that DeVos trashed, and for providing money for culturally specific services that are sensitive to the diverse backgrounds of survivors. He also notes that sexual assault, while it predominantly affects women and girls, needs to be taken seriously and addressed for people of all gender identities.

His gun safety plan is forceful and lays out several steps for banning assault weapons, taking existing weapons from offenders, closing gun purchase background check and other legal loopholes, addressing the intersection between domestic violence and weapons ownership, and reducing or eliminating weapons and ammunition stockpiling.

His plan for tackling climate change and creating green jobs is also lengthy. He makes the connection between economic, environmental, and racial justice. He pledges to immediately rejoin the Paris Agreement and restore American leadership on the issue in pushing for even stronger climate standards, make climate change a central part of our trade, international, and justice goals, demand a worldwide ban on fossil fuel subsidies and tax breaks (!!!) and if the Green New Deal is passed, to sign it, as well as for the U.S. to achieve 100% clean energy and zero percent net emissions by 2050.

His healthcare plan is decent. It offers an immediate public option for all Americans regardless of private, employer, or no coverage, and generous new tax credits to put toward the cost of coverage. It strongly protects abortion rights and federal funding for Planned Parenthood, as well as rescinding the “gag rule” that prevents U.S. federal aid money from being used to provide or even talk about abortions in NGOs abroad. It attacks generic and drug price gouging. It calls for doubling the capital gains tax on the super-wealthy (from 20% to 39.5% paid on capital gains by anyone making over $1 million) to help fund healthcare reform. He also has a separate plan on the opioid crisis in America, and on older Americans and retirement, including the protection and re-funding of Medicare and Social Security.

His immigration plan is lengthy and detailed. He apologizes for and acknowledges the excessive deportation that occured during the Obama-Biden administrations, pledges to do better, and attacks Trump’s current inhumane acitivities on every front. The policy of children in cages, indefinite detention, the metered asylum system, and the Muslim Ban are gone on day one. In this and his LGBTQ plan, he notes the vulnerability of LGBTQ refugees, incuding LGBTQ refugees of color. He proposes streamlining of visa applications and prioritizing the immediate reunification of families. It also specifically states that ICE and CBP agents will be held directly accountable for inhumane treatment.

Speaking of which, his LGBTQ plan is comprehensive. It pays attention to multiple intersectional issues, down to the high rates of incarceration among trans people of color. (He also notes the rates of violence against trans women of color particularly.) He calls for a complete ban on conversion therapy and the discrimination against HIV-status individuals, as well as removing the ban on blood donation from gay and bisexual men. He will remove the transgender military ban immediately. He calls for funding for mental health and suicide prevention among LGBTQ populations.

His plan to empower workers calls for raising the federal minimum wage to $15, as well as indexing this to median hourly wages to ensure that working-class and middle-class wages grow closer to parity, and implementing strong legal protections for unions. He expresses support for striking workers and to empower the National Labor Relations Board in workplace advocacy. Farmworkers, domestic workers, gig economy workers, and other non-traditional labor groups are included in this. He will restore all Obama-Biden policies related to workplace safety and regulation.

His plan to restore American dignity and leadership in the world calls for immediately investing in election security and reform, restoration of the Voting Rights Act, immediately restoring White House press briefings and other Trump refusals of information, tackling criminal justice reform and systematic racial discrimination, calling for campaign finance reform, and basically blowing up all the stupid things the Trump administration does on a daily basis. It also calls for an end to all ongoing wars in the Middle East, restoring the Iran nuclear deal, and new arms control treaties with Russia, among general repairing of international alliances.

His plans for K-12 education and post-high school education call for greatly expanded funding across all levels of 2-year, 4-year, and other educational options. There will be no student loan payments for anyone making under $25,000 a year; everyone else will pay a capped amount and be completely forgiven after a certain period. Public servants qualify for up to $50,000 in loan forgiveness. This is not total loan forgiveness for everyone, which is obviously important for me and many of us, but it’s acceptable to start with. Additionally, his wife is a teacher and has a proven track record of calling for education investment and supporting public school funding.

His plan for housing addresses the needs of formerly incarcerated, LGBTQ, veteran, low-income, sexual assault survivor, black and Hispanic, and other vulnerable populations at risk of losing housing. It calls for a tax on companies and corporations with in excess of $50 billion in assets to fund comprehensive new housing initiatives, including $100 billion in accessible and low-income housing development. It includes extensive investment in public transportation and a high-speed rail system. This ties into his plan to repair infrastructure and invest in new technologies across the country.

His plan for criminal justice reform calls for the end of mass incarceration, the decriminalization of marijuana, the automatic expunging of all cannabis convictions, and an end on jail sentences for drug use. It highlights systematic institutional racism and the impact on black and brown people particularly. It calls for an end on all profiteering and private prisons. It focuses on reintegrating offenders into society and funding the needs of people released from prison. It proposes to “expand and use the power of the U.S. Justice Department to address systemic misconduct in police departments and prosecutors’ offices.” It broadens funding for social services and other programs for people who are otherwise placed into the prison pipeline.

There are more plans, which you can find here. These are the ones I read top to bottom. I am not by any means a Joe Biden fangirl; he was not my first choice, my second choice, or really anywhere on my list. However, having carefully read through his policy documents, I can say that:

He has at the least a good team of advisors who are keenly aware of the political climate, and is willing to both restore Obama-era standards and to improve on them where necessary. Obviously, all politicians’ promises are politicians’ promises, but this is a solid Democratic platform with obvious awareness of the progressive wing of the party.

If progressive legislation is passed in the House and Senate, he will sign it, including the Green New Deal.

He represents a clear and definite improvement over Donald Trump.

Is he everything we want? No. Are his policies better than I was expecting? Yes. I advise you to read through them for yourself. It has made me at least feel better about the likelihood of voting for him.

I realize it’s an unsexy position, especially on tumblr, to advocate for an old centrist white man. I’m not thrilled about having to do it. However, speaking as someone who was very resistant to Biden and still doesn’t agree with all of his previous legislative track record, that’s my consensus. He is a candidate who broadly aligns with values that I care about. His policies represent a concrete end to the damage of the Trump administration and gets us on the right track again.

Joe Biden, if he is the Democratic nominee, will receive my vote on November 3, 2020. I urge you to consider what I’ve laid out above and join me.

[i-need-entertainment]

Haikyuu!! Boys getting accidentally hit ‘where it hurts’ by their kids

Characters: Akaashi, Washio, Konoha, Kita, Suna, Ushijima, Yahaba, Iwaizumi, Futakuchi, Daishou, Numai and Iizuna

Happy Easter if you celebrate it!! I thought a fluffy little hc’s of the Haikyuu!! Boys with their babies would be cute for today so here we are~

Warnings: Uh- just our favorite boys getting hit in the balls, I’m seeking more therapy I laughed way too hard while writing this uHm, mentions of grabbing the crotch cause what else you gonna do??, I do reference the Bad-dad moments and being flashed posts. 

**POST TIMESKIP CAUSE CHILDREN!! YOU AND THE HAIKYUU!! BOYS ARE MARRIED~ ALSO THE NUMBER OF KIDS THEY HAVE CAME FROM THE BAD-DAD MOMENTS!!**

@foodacoochie I thought you might want to see this~

Akaashi Keiji: 

Today was Akaashi’s day off, so naturally he wanted to spend it with his family!

You were all situated in the living room, your youngest who was a little over 1 sitting on your lap, and your oldest, who was about 3 was sitting across from Akaashi.

Akaashi was on his knees, throwing a tennis ball like thing back and forth with your 3 year old son, who was standing.

Everything was going great, just some wholesome family fun.

Until Akaashi said ‘give it all you got!’ his child smiled, wound up, and-

‘OOF-’ you watched as your husband immediately hunched over, falling to his side as his hands flew to his crotch.

Your eyes widened as you tried not to laugh, your son however started giggling when his father groaned, your baby following suit.

“K-keiji? *snicker* are- *ahem* are you okay?” You barely got through the sentence before you started laughing, Akaashi just slowly nodded, eventually returning to his knees.

He was much, much more conscious of his lower region from that point on.

Washio Tatsuki: 

It was Halloween time, and you and Washio had taken your 3 kids to a pumpkin patch!

You guys have 3 kids, the oldest two are 5 (fraternal twins, 1 boy 1 girl), and the youngest is 2.

The farm had made several ‘haunted houses’, one for little kids and one for teens+

Your twins had decided they wanted to go in the haunted house!

Well, your son did. Your daughter was not thrilled.

But! When her daddy offered to hold her hand the whole time, she decided she could brave it out, after all it is Washio we’re talking about.

You stayed by the entrance with your 2 year old, while Washio took the twins inside.

Everything was fine for awhile, your son was very excited, giggling at the jump scares and all in all having a good old time.

Your daughter...not so much. Poor thing was just about shaking, but she wanted to do this!!

They were about 2 scares away from the exit when someone dressed as a werewolf came from no where, your daughter screaming and turning into her father, her elbow at the perfect height to connect with his groin.

Sucking in a quick breath he ever so slightly tightened his hold on his children's hands, walking them through the last few jump scares and out to you.

You immediately grew concerned as the first thing your husband did was take a knee when he got outside, hands coming to grip at his face as he just slowly let out a breath, nodding when you asked if he was okay.

But even after getting elbowed in the balls, he never let go of his daughters hand😤

Konoha Akinori: 

You had just finished drying your son off from his bath when you heard giggling coming from the living room.

You sighed as you saw your husband, relentlessly tickling his oldest daughter, right after you had gotten her all settled down for bed.

Despite the irritation you felt knowing it would take at least 2 more stories for her to be sleepy again, you couldn’t help but smile knowing how much he loved being a dad.

���D-daddy *giggle* st-stop it!! It-it tickles!!!” Your husband smiled, continuing to gently tickle your daughter as she continued to laugh.

“No-can-do missy! Your laugh is just too cute!” 

Your daughter, despite her laughing, started to squirm, small arms pressing down on her fathers forearms, and little legs and feet pressing on his shins and thighs.

Until one particularly ticklish brush of his fingers caused her foot to slip, ending with her heel hitting him right in his crotch.

He shrieked as he let go of his daughter, hands flying down to his groin as he fell on his side, all the while his little girl laughed as she crawled up towards you, who was hunched over ugly laughing/crying as your husband continued to whine.

Kita Shinsuke: 

Today was the first day of your spring cleaning, and your 4 year old daughter insisted on being a big help!

You were working in the living room while Kita and your daughter worked in the kitchen.

Kita was teaching his daughter how to use everything, and helping her when she needed it, she was of course a wonderful listener and was having the time of her life.

They had just finished dusting, and now it was time to do the floors.

You guys had linoleum in the kitchen, so all they had to do was sweep and mop.

Kita got the broom from the storage closet and came back to the kitchen.

He sighed when he realized he had forgotten the mop, setting the broom up against the kitchen counter and telling your daughter he’d be right back.

Now, she may more responsible than most kids her age, but she was still 4. And very curious.

Picking up the broom, she started to play with it, completely oblivious to her father rounding the corner.

Before he could so much as blink his daughter turned, the top of the broom catching him right in the balls as he very narrowly avoided cussing, choosing to grip the counter instead.

Gasping your little girl ran to you, on the verge of tears as she grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards the kitchen.

“Mommy help! I think I killed daddy!”

When you got to the kitchen, you saw Kita, head down on the counter as his hands wrapped around his head, small groans coming from him.

He made sure to be out of his daughter reach when teaching her to sweep.

Suna Rintaro: 

Suna was in the living room, your 2 oldest in there with him as he was ‘rough housing’ and doing stuff dads do with their kids.

You were in the youngest 2′s room, putting them down for a nap.

Suna gently held his daughters legs as she planted her palms on the floor, him lifting her up when she was ready.

That’s right, Suna was teaching them to do handstands.

Giving her a high five he turned to his son, telling him what he needed to do, completely oblivious to his daughters concentrated look.

Keep in mind, Suna was standing, with his knees slightly bent and his hands on his knees.

Your daughter gave herself a firm nod, putting her hands above her head as she dipped down.

You had just finished putting the littlest ones down for their nap when you walked into the living room, watching almost in slow motion as your daughter leaned her upper half down, and watching her her leg came flying straight up.

Straight up in between her father’s legs.

You watched as his eyes widened, the air being knocked right out of him as he practically folded in half, forehead resting on the carpet as your son just looked at him and your daughters hands came up to her mouth.

You were of course dying in the doorway, him shooting you a glare as you gave your poor daughter a hug, her giving her daddy one as soon as he unfurled from the fetal position.

Ushijima Wakatoshi: 

Ushijima had taken his 3 oldest sons to the Schweiden gym.

He was putting in a little extra practice time, but wasn’t going to give up time with his children!

So, he figured it would be good to take them with him, they always loved going with him anyhow.

Right now, he was with your oldest son, Ren.

Your second born was whisked away by Romero and his son to play, and your youngest was whisked away by Hoshiumi and Sokolov.

Ushijima had been teaching his son to spike.

Nothing crazy, the kid is only 5, so they were spiking from the ground.

But there’s still a lot of power that goes into those spikes!!

Ushijima had taken his eyes off of his son for not even a minute, distracted by the giggles he heard from his youngest as he sat on Hoshiumi’s shoulders.

He really should have been paying attention, because right in front of him his son was winding up for a spike.

He didn’t notice until the *SMACK* on the gym floor echoed, the volleyball being shot right into his groin.

He cursed under his breath as he dropped to his knees, hands holding his crotch as Sokolov and Romero cringed, Hoshiumi and Ren laughing at his misfortune.

Yahaba Shigeru: 

Yahaba had taken his 2 sons outside to play with a model airplane they had just finished putting together!

It was one of those thick-foam nice ones, so it was going to fly nicely.

He stood a good 15 feet away from his oldest, his youngest about 15 feet away from him so they formed a triangle, You watching with your phone ready for memories!!

Your oldest, Hayato, waited for the wind to come before thrusting the plane up and into the air, it glided for a good few seconds before doing a loop and coming back to the ground at a sharp angle.

For a foam plane, it moved quite efficiently, and at this speed it was moving quite quickly.

Before anyone could react, the plane had nose dived right into your husband, his face blanching as his hands shot downwards.

You laughed, your sons cringed, and Yahaba just about cried.

“At least the plane’s okay! It would have actually been bad if it broke” Your youngest walked away after picking up the plane, Yahaba looking at him in disbelief. 

“Yeah, well don’t go asking me and your mom for anymore siblings, *cringe* I don’t think that’ll be happening.”

He cringed even more when you revealed you had gotten everything on video~

Iwaizumi Hajime: 

With it being the off-season for volleyball, Iwaizumi was spending more time at home with his family!

But, keeping in good shape was also important, so one of the things he would do is while he worked out in the home gym, your 3 sons would be in there with him.

You guys had a pretty good set up, one of the newer additions being a punching bag and gloves. (any other boxers out there?)

Iwaizumi was working with weights, currently doing bicep curls while his sons wreaked, albeit controlled, havoc.

His oldest had found the gloves, slipping on on his hand as the middlest took the other, the youngest slipping on a mit instead.

Poor man was so focused in his workout, he didn’t even notice his middlest son come waking towards him.

When he did notice, he was too late, his son had already wound up and launched his gloved hand into Iwaizumi’s crotch.

Iwaizumi grunted as he just about dropped the weights, falling onto his hands and knees as he tried to steady his breathing.

All 3 of your children bolted out of the room, the little brats laughing before they ran into you.

You walked in to see Iwaizumi, who was now on one knee, eyes still closed as he seemed to be meditating.

For those who are wondering, “padded boxing gloves” do  n o t h i n g  to subside the pain of being punched😢

Futakuchi Kenji: 

Futakuchi’s parents had been over for dinner one night, his younger sister and her fiancé were there too!

You guys had just had a nice dinner and were now sitting in the living room, bringing up old memories and laughing about things that have happened.

Your oh so loving husband had decided to bring up how you had “flashed” him in high school, you rolling your eyes as you hit his arm with a pillow you threw, him being on the couch and you cuddling with your youngest on the floor.

Now, you guys have 3 little girls. 

Your oldest is 6, middlest 4 and your youngest is about 3.

Your youngest was very much a mommy’s girl, and would actually glare at Futakuchi for no given reason, then turn around and giggle and smile at you. (lol my little sister went through a phase like this when she was, like, 2)

She had been sitting on your lap, so when she saw you ‘in danger’ and it was from ‘the enemy’ aka dad, she stood, chubby little cheeks forming a pout as she marched towards her dad.

With the whole family watching, she pulled her fist back and swung, catching him right in his balls as she scurried off and back into your arms, you not knowing how to respond to the situation and your husband doubled over in pain.

Daishou Suguru: 

You and Daishou had 2 kids, 1 girl (oldest) and 1 boy.

Daishou was a good dad!

He cared for his children, gave them endless amounts of love and affection, and was never late to any event big or small.

But he was still a dad, and dads all have those things that they do.

For him, it was popping out of random places and (lightly) scaring his daughter.

Currently, he was hiding behind the wall right at the top of the stairs, smirking as he knew his daughter was on her way up them.

He got his hands ready, feet in a good position to jump out as he watched her little shadow grow closer and closer to the top.

As soon as she hit the floor of the 2nd level he jumped out.

“BOO!” Screaming she kicked, landing a strong kick right in between Daishou’s legs, causing him to yelp as his hands gripped his crotch, sinking to his knees as his daughter gasped.

She felt bad for a whole of (2) seconds before sighing, hands coming up on her hips as she pouted, “Daddy, that’s what you get for scaring me!!”

Numai Kazuma: 

You guys had 3 sons and 1 girl, your baby girl being the youngest of the 4.

Right now, you guys were in your backyard, having an outdoor day and playing a variety of sports and games.

The game they were currently playing was baseball.

You sat in the shade with your youngest son and baby girl as they played in the sandbox, your oldest two with their dad as he set up the little stand and put the ball on it.

He had put on the catcher’s mit and stood a good 10 feet away from the batting station, his oldest son ready to hit, and his youngest son a safe distance away.

“Alright, come on buddy, you got this!”

Steadying his stance, your son swung with all of his might, the ball going fast and low to the ground, and right towards Numai-

“uGh-” Your hand came up to your mouth when your husband dropped to his knee, hand coming up to wave off his son, forcing out an “I’m okAy-” as he struggled to regain his composure.

For the remainder of the time they played baseball, he kept the mit a little lower than he originally planned.

Iizuna Tsukasa: 

Iizuna had been away for a game for the past 2 weeks, and your 3 year old daughter was very excited to see him again.

His arrival time was in the afternoon, so you were able to bring your daughter with you! Which Iizuna was thrilled about.

Your little girl was practically bouncing with excitement, little pigtails jumping as she looked up to you with a toothy grin.

You gently ran your fingers through her hair, as she clutched onto your leg, both of your eyes searching the gate for your husband.

As soon as you saw him, you crouched down to her ear, “There he is! There’s daddy!” Squealing she ran, and I mean she ran full force towards her father.

Iizuna, seeing his incoming 3 year old barreling towards him, dropping his bag, kneeling down so he could catch her.

Which he did, but he didn’t account for just how much force she had carried, so he didn’t expect the little foot that kicked him right where it hurts.

Careful not to impulsively squeeze the life out of his toddler, he shakily sighed as he gave her a kiss to her head, her nuzzling into his arms.

He may have been in an extreme amount of pain, but nothing was going to stop him from hugging his little girl.

[ah-ga-seven]

Till The End of Summer - Chapter 14 (The Finale)

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 12,3K

Idol Cameos: NCT Johnny, ITZY Ryujin, ATEEZ Wooyoung, Stray Kids Hyunjin, Enhyphen Sunghoon, Heesung and Jay.

Genre:  Fluff, SMUT, angst if you squint.

Warnings: explicit mature content, I put a bolded warning sign at the start and end of it so you can skip through if you want.

Month 1.

Yeonjun went back home to save the reputation of Choi Enterprises by dealing with Lita’s attempt to overthrow him and his mother.  

Apparently, she did a lot more than the things she was locked up for initially. 

Lita and her husband bribed members of the board, making promises they obviously couldn’t keep. “When we have the company, the world is yours” but those days never came. and the board members that were bribed were fired effective immediately.

Each and every one of them got disposed of, with their assets included like they were last weeks’ trash. And if that wasn’t enough, Lita’s unjustified psychosis stemmed from the fact that she used to sleep with Yeonjun’s father. Lita felt like she was entitled to the Choi’s fortunes because according to her; the only woman Daniel Choi ever loved, was her.  

The revelation had Yeonjun sick to his stomach as he sat next to his mother in court. Lita looked at him with pleading eyes, claiming to really love him as her own son before the judge announced her 15-year prison sentence for fraud, spying, embezzlement, and attempted murder.

Somehow Yeonjun felt nothing as he looked at her. He really didn’t. If anything, he was glad to close this chapter of his life for good, and look ahead of the road to recovering his soul.

You, on the other hand, were completely overwhelmed with your new surroundings. You threw yourself into your work to forget about your heartache and didn’t dare to talk to Yeonjun in case it’d open up your wounds again. It would cause for you to lose focus, and you simply couldn’t afford that distraction right now.

Month 2

The first month passed without any contact between the two of you, but that changed when you wished him a happy birthday. His heart thumped in his chest on his way to his 6th therapy session as he looked at your message. 

He was even more surprised to see that you sent him a cute card with a Polaroid picture of the two of you; all happy and smiley in the park.  

It was reassuring to him that you were still thinking of him, and that you hadn’t completely forgotten about him or moved on so easily, because lord knows he hadn’t.

When you asked him about Lita’s trial a few days after his birthday, you two started to slowly talk again from time to time. You’d check up on each other and made small talk, but it was nothing like it used to be.  

There was no depth, and the core of your conversations always had to do with how both of your studies were going, if you were taking care of yourselves or if you’ve had dinner already.  

You both figured it was for the better this way, otherwise your break up would have been for nothing if you didn’t use this time apart from each other to heal, especially since you promised to be better individually so you could be even better together.

If that was still what both of you wanted upon your return of course.

He missed you so much, and he was finding it incredibly hard not to check your socials at least once a day, especially when he realized how male-dominated your studies were at Brown.

Your Instagram feed and stories indicated that you were having the time of your life when you could. You were happy despite the crazy hours you spent in a lab with your research team. A team that quickly became your new group of friends at the University.  

There were 2 other guys and one other girl in your team. The girl’s name was Giselle, you seemed to be the closest to her out of all of them. One of the guys was named Chanhee who was quite obviously gay, therefore not a threat. But the second guy, Hwang Hyunjin… let's just say that Yeonjun wasn't a fan.

Month 3

Your almost daily texts and calls with your friends back home started to shift to communication on a weekly basis.  

It was hard to keep up with your friends back home while having to entertain a new friend group here, all while you spent hours upon hours in the lab, working on a possible treatment for neurological disorders.  

You knew that whatever you were getting yourself into with this exchange was going to be hard, but you didn’t imagine it to be this hard and frankly, you were feeling incredibly homesick by now.

You missed Soobin, the boys, Mia…Yeonjun. And one time when you came home at 10 PM after a long day that started at 8 AM; you broke down on the phone when Soobin called to check in on you.

He was so shocked at your tears that he was ready to jump on a plane, but you stopped him from doing so. Knowing that you needed to push through and confide in the friends you made, whom you’ve started to hang out with a lot more, especially with Hyunjin.  

He reminded you a lot of Soobin, the way he was gentle yet in for dumb shit matched well with your own personality, and hanging out with him felt liberating. He introduced you to his friends and spent time with you and your lab partner and roommate Giselle whenever he could, which made your time at Brown a lot more bearable than you had anticipated.

Yeonjun was slowly starting to enjoy life again. He caught up with his studies, kept going to therapy, had regular calls with his mother, and spent time with his friends whenever he could. He started to pick up his neglected hobby of dancing again, finding comfort in the art form with Wooyoung and his crew.

Month 4

Yeonjun’s mother sold Choi Enterprises. She was completely done with the company as it wasn’t hers to begin with. The stock prices had risen for the first time since Daniel’s death paired with the whole Lita ordeal, so she took the chance to get rid of her past with a simple transaction.

She consulted Yeonjun about selling the company and the house he grew up in, for which he agreed, glad that they could finally close that dark chapter of their lives while getting a fresh start with new surroundings.  

With all of this newly acquired money, she opened a new headquarters of her own luxury fashion brand, closer to Yeonjun; only an hour away to be exact.  

She was determined to be a better mother and get to know her son, and the only way to do so was by actually trying. He was happier now that the burden of having to take over Choi Enterprises one day fell off of his shoulders.  

For the first time in a long time, he held the reigns to his own future again and his mother assured him that she’d support whatever he wanted to do in life both mentally and financially.

From there on out things started to look up for them.  

They went on café dates every Sunday, and sometimes he’d visit her for an entire weekend where they would bond by cooking or shopping together. 

During one visit, Yeonjun helped her pick some pieces for Fashion week, which made her pleasantly surprised by Yeonjun’s out of the box and daring passion for fashion. She suggested he’d take a minor in fashion design next to his regular Business studies and after giving it a good thought, he did, enjoying it a little more than he thought he would.

Month 5

You were doing better too. The hard part of your research was over with, and you had a well-deserved break which you spent with Giselle, Chanhee, and Hyunjin. You decided on having a mini-vacation and go sightseeing, rent an Airbnb somewhere in the state, and just chill.

Everything was fine until the last night of your trip, where you got shitfaced drunk and ended up sleeping with Hyunjin.  

You were single, so there was no reason to feel guilty, especially since the last time you even talked to Yeonjun was over a month ago, yet you still did.  

Of course, you had to talk to Mia about it, who only told you to remember that when you’d return in a month; you’d probably never see Hyunjin again, and that was enough for you to start distancing yourself from him.

The guy obviously had feelings for you, and you felt bad for friend-zoning him after being intimate with him, but the fact of the matter was that you just didn’t feel the same way about him. None of it would matter in a few weeks anyway, because you’d be heading back home, to your friends...and to Yeonjun.

Month 6  

Brown had offered you to stay and finish your studies at their facilities but you kindly declined. The experience was great, but you couldn’t put yourself through one more year of this type of curriculum, and you desperately wanted to see your friends' faces again by going back to the place you’ve called home for the past three years.

To your new-found friends’ disappointment, you were getting ready to leave as the weeks passed, packing your things little by little and meeting up with all of the people you met one last time before parting ways for good.  

It felt bittersweet though. Not only did you learn a lot about neuroscience, but you learned a lot about yourself as well. You grew as a person, matured, and blossomed by being more independent. Not having Soobin or your other friends to fall back on really pushed you to become more self-dependent, which was one of the perks of being away from them for so long.

You respected yourself and put yourself first and promised that that’d be a piece of knowledge that you’d be taking back home too.

Now.

Yeonjun couldn’t believe half a year had passed already. But what he really couldn’t believe was that he’d be seeing you again tonight.  

He stood in your apartment with the guys and Mia, organizing your things and cleaning up the place for your surprise welcome home party. Being in there felt weird, almost foreign to be exact.

It’d been half a year since he stepped foot in here, and even though you were gone for so long, the place still smelled like you. If it wasn’t for the empty shelves, missing bedsheets, and plastic covers over your furniture; it’d almost seem like you never really left.

He opened your bedroom door to see Mia struggling to make your bed and chuckled lightly at the sight. He walked over to her, grabbing the other ends of the sheets to help her out.

Mia gave him a faint smile and stopped her movements for a second to look at Yeonjun. “Are you excited?” She asks with a big smile. Lord knows she was, her best friend was finally coming back but Yeonjun didn’t really know how to answer Mia’s question.

“More nervous than excited. We checked up on each other from time to time but it’s not like we really talked or anything.”

Mia pouted at Yeonjun’s insecure facial expression. One she hasn’t seen from him that often. Especially lately. Mia and Yeonjun have gotten a lot closer in the past six months, which was a nice change for the both of them.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. You’re not the same Yeonjun you were six months ago. And that’s a good thing. She’ll appreciate the change.”

“Gee, thanks.” Yeonjun snickers as he throws a pillow at Mia’s head. It hit her straight in the face, messing up her hair which made both of them erupt in loud laughter.

“Asshole,” Mia says straightening out her hair.

“What’s going on here?” Soobin asks with a big smile on his face as he enters your room.

Soobin hasn’t been able to wipe that damn grin off of his face all day. He was so excited for you to come back and honestly the mood with the boys and with Mia has been amazing lately.  

“Yeonjun is back to his old ways,” Mia argues as she tries to throw the pillow back at him, but Yeonjun swiftly caught it, giggling to himself as he fixes it before putting it back on your bed, where it belongs.

“Well, quit messing around and hurry the fuck up, I’m picking her up in an hour.” Soobin says clapping his hands together to try and give orders, but neither Yeonjun nor Mia were phased by Soobin’s attempt to assert dominance. Both of them rolled their eyes before getting back to the task of making your bed.  

It was adorable how stressed yet giddy Soobin was to see you again. Everything had to be perfect before you arrived so he could relax and make sure you’ll be able to relax after your flight too.  

He ran around your apartment like a stressed mother; making sure the boys weren’t messing around too much so that everything planned out smoothly before the guests arrived.

Soobin waited for you patiently…at the wrong exit.

You immediately recognized his tall form when you were skimming the crowd, wondering why he wasn’t there yet, but when you saw his back facing the wrong arrival hall; you knew enough.  

It’s so Soobin of him to face the wrong way. You smile to yourself as it gave you the perfect opportunity to scare him.

You chuckle as you walk towards him while pulling your suitcase with you. He was concentrated on the people exiting the gates, hoping to see you and growing more and more restless as you didn’t show up, but little did he know, you were right behind him.

“Who are we waiting for?” You ask in a serious tone as you stood beside him with your arms crossed while following his gaze onto the crowd.

Soobin’s head snapped into your direction so fast you swore you heard a bone crack.  

His eyes widened before he smacked his bunny-like lips in confusion, looking you up and down before a huge smile crept upon his face that you could only mimic.  

“YOU’RE HERE!” Soobin shouts in shock, relief, and joy at the same time while pulling you in for a tight hug. He inhaled your scent while twirling you around, and all you could do was giggle as he smothered you in his hold.

God, you missed him, and judging from the way he wasn’t letting go of you, you could tell he missed you too.

“Ugh, I missed you so much. How was your flight? And look at you! Did you change up your hair? You look good, happy, healthy. Ugh.”  

You couldn’t even respond to anything he was saying as he wrapped you into his arms again. Normally you’d fight him for being so clingy, but this time you let him have his way for a few seconds…until it got hard to breathe.

“Soobin, I can’t breathe.” You protest softly as you tap his chest to let go which made him laugh in response, holding you at an arms-length. “Sorry y/n. I just…we’re never separating for that long ever again,” he says with a serious yet playful look on his face.

“Agreed.” you beam up at him as you link arms, walking towards the exit.

“Did you have a good flight?” he asks as he pets your hair, not believing that you were standing next to him right now.  

“Mmh, there was some turbulence so I couldn’t really rest. I can’t wait till I’m home again so I can sleep,” you mumble before you let out a yawn as you drag your feet on the tiled floor of the airport.

Soobin gulped. He didn’t know how you’d feel about the hoard of people in your apartment right now, all ready to celebrate your return when all you really wanted was to get some rest after your long travels.  

He felt guilty for a second but also knew that you’d probably forget all about your tiredness when you’ll see all of your friends again.

“Uhm, the car isn’t that far. Give me that,” he says as he takes your suitcase from your hold.

“Everyone quiet down! They’re coming up right now!” Taehyun announces while he cut the music.

Everyone frantically found a spot to hide. Some giggled as it got dark, some held on to each other cause they couldn’t see shit and some were nervous wrecks like Yeonjun.

You weren’t suspecting anything as you dragged your feet to your apartment. Soobin was acting weirder and weirder; fumbling with his keys, dropping shit, and constantly checking his phone, but you were too dense and tired to notice.

You struggle with your lock and let out a yawn. Soobin stood closely behind you, taking a deep breath as the door swung open.

Before you could even close the door behind you or find the light switch, all of the lights turned on in an instant, followed by a loud ‘SURPISE’ yelled out by at least two dozen people who were occupying your living space.

You flinch, your eyes nearly popping out of your skull and stumble backward, just so your back could hit Soobin’s tall form.

He laughed hysterically clapping his hands together like a seal, followed by everyone in the room.

“Oh my god.” Is the only thing that you were able to get out as you covered your face at the overwhelming sensation.

You didn’t even realize you had this many friends? I mean you knew all of them of course, but you didn’t comprehend the fact that they were all here to welcome you back.

The music turned back on and Mia was the first one to launch herself into your arms which had you immediately defrosting in her hold.

‘BITCH!!!” she yelped. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH.”  

She clung onto you and twirled you around making the adrenaline and confusion in your body shift to pure happiness at seeing their faces again.

You can’t believe they did this, and suddenly you don’t feel tired anymore.

“Y/N!” Beomgyu squealed your name as he hugged you, followed by Taehyun and Hueningkai who all patiently waited until it was their turn to hug you.

You were so caught up in shock and bombarded with love, that you didn't have time to scan the room for other familiar faces. Instead, you just let them come to you one by one as you stood glued to the floor, smiling, hugging and chatting away with all of the people that seemed to have missed you so dearly.  

Yeonjun stood in the corner of your living room, watching the whole ordeal. A smile crept onto his face at how happy and healthy you looked. It’s almost as if he saw you for the first time again. Making him realize that love at first sight really was a thing…even in this form.

He took a sip of his drink, still watching you carefully until someone nudged his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you go say hi to your girl?” The taller and older guy leaned against the wall next to Yeonjun after nudging him, making him look up at him.

“Hyung, I don’t even know what to say to her. She’s so happy right now, I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side. “You don’t think she’ll be happy to see you?”

“I don’t know anything right now.” Yeonjun sighed, watching you join Hueningkai and Beomgyu for a selfie with a big smile on your face. “When is the last time you two spoke?” Johnny asked, taking another sip of his drink.  

“Like two months ago.”

“Damn…”

“I know.”  

and just as the picture was taken, you spotted him across the room.  

Your eyes locked, making Yeonjun freeze in place. “Shit,” he gulps, downing his drink in one go to calm his nerves which made Johnny laugh at his antics.

“Relaaaax. Did you see her eyes light up just now? I think she missed you too,” he assures him, throwing an arm around his shoulder for comfort.

This seems odd? Doesn’t it? Yeonjun and Johnny being all friendly with each other.

During Yeonjun’s never-ending therapy sessions, the school’s counselor wanted to connect Yeonjun with someone with a similar background. You should’ve seen both of their faces when they met during a group session, but after realizing they had such corresponding backgrounds, you know; the neglected rich kid kind, they haven’t stopped talking to each other and oddly became very close friends.

It was nice for Yeonjun to have an older brother figure in his life since he’s the oldest in his own friend group, and it was even nicer for Johnny to find out that Yeonjun wasn’t such a big dick after all. Oh, and the part of having someone who gets his struggle was great too, even in the form of Choi Yeonjun.  

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You didn’t expect him to be here for some reason and the last thing you expected was seeing him with Johnny’s arm around his shoulder in a non-threatening way.

Mia chuckled as she followed your gaze. “Yeah…so, they started hanging out a few months ago.”

“How even?”  

“I don’t know maybe they started to bond over being your rejects,” Taehyun says making Mia and Beomgyu cackle with him, but you couldn’t quite see the humor in it. You had only returned to your friends for 5 whole minutes and they were already being annoying.  

Soobin noticed your slight annoyance and chuckled, rubbing your back in comfort as he was the only one to notice how nervous you really were to talk to him again after all this time. “Go talk to him, he’s just as nervous. Trust me.” Soobin says into your ear so only you could hear, and you give him a small nod in response. Smiling at the encouragement you so desperately needed.

You’re a bad bitch. You got this.  

You look at him once more as he talked to Johnny.

For some reason, his whole aura changed from the last time you saw him. His features matured a bit, he lost weight and he completely embraced having a mullet. Ok…hot.  

He was breathtaking. Even after all this time of being apart, he made you feel the exact same way and all it took to remind you of that feeling was one look from him.  

He decided to man up and make his way through the crowd to greet you, but you beat him to it as your legs automatically walked over to where he was standing.

Johnny sensed the sudden electricity in the air as you approached and decided to go in for the hug first to give Yeonjun some time to collect himself. “Y/n!” Johnny coed as he enveloped you into a big bear hug. “It’s so good to see you again. How are you? How was your exchange?”  

You’re snapped out of your trance, but you still feel Yeonjun’s eyes on you as you’re trapped in Johnny’s embrace. You collect yourself as you let go of him, trying to avoid Yeonjun’s gaze for now but it was almost impossible because of how close he was.  

“I’m good, it was good. A lot of sleepless nights but it was totally worth it.” You give him the quickest answer possible; you weren’t quite sure where to start the conversation with Yeonjun but the longer the two of you ignored each other, the weirder the tension between you two was getting.

He took a deep breath, giving you a warm smile before averting his attention to Johnny. He not so subtly told him to leave with his eyes, which made Johnny suavely exit the conversation by announcing that he needed a refill.

“Hey…” you start.

Yeonjun’s eyes glistened as he looked at you with adoration. “Hey.”

You looked good. Your skin had a healthy glow, and your new haircut was working wonders for your features. He was entranced by your beauty for a second before realizing his stare might be creeping you out, though you didn’t even notice, cause you were staring at him too.  

You were completely caught up in your own perception of time. Everything seemed to slow down now that you were looking into others eyes again after all this time and just as you were about to open your mouth to speak, some kid you didn’t know accidentally bumped into you roughly.  

The sudden impact made you lose balance as you jolted forward, straight into Yeonjun’s arms. Luckily, he swiftly caught and stabilized you.

He looked at you in shock, making sure you were okay as he grabbed your shoulders before turning his attention to the random kid who somehow got an invite to be at your welcome home party, in your house, without you even knowing who he is.

He quickly apologized, but you feared for what was about to happen. The Yeonjun you left 6 months ago was a dick and a hothead, he’d make the kid regret running into you like that but to your surprise Yeonjun straightened out the freshman’s clothes and gave him a small side smile.  

“Be careful kid, we just got her back,” he says in neutral yet friendly tone.

That’s it? No threatening glare? No sarcasm?

He seemed to notice your dumbfounded facial expression and chuckled. “Anger management classes,” he explains with playfulness evident in his voice.

“You’re kidding?” you scoff in amusement.

“Nope. I’ve turned into a complete softie, just for you.”  

You teasingly shove his shoulder and laugh loudly. The sound made Yeonjun’s heart flutter as he watched your face contort into pure joy and cuteness. He felt the sudden urge to squish your cheeks together and litter your face with kisses but he withheld himself from doing so, and reciprocated your giggles with the sound of his own laugh as he raked his hand through his long locks.

This small moment of flirty teasing made the both of you realize just how much you had missed each other as you were quick to jump back in your old ways.

You both should’ve known that worrying about any awkwardness between you two was stupid. After all, you were friends before you even started dating; and luckily that dynamic returned quickly because he was just as big of a casual flirter as you were.

Suddenly it felt like you were starting all over again with him, it felt like the first time you tried to connect with him on that damn picnic that started the timeline of your relationship.

Somehow the universe granted you the opportunity to hit the reset button and do things right this time, and you couldn’t be happier now that you realize how stupid it was to worry about the inseverable connection you two seemed to have to each other.

Even after all these months and all those miles of distance, Yeonjun still felt like home.  

He gave you a shy smile, realizing you were staring at him with hearts in your eyes while you expectantly gazed into his dark orbs.

His eyes weren’t hollow anymore, for the first time in ages his happiness felt genuine and you couldn’t wait for him to tell you all about it.

“How about we…ditch your party for a bit and go take a walk,” Yeonjun suggests, giving you a hopeful yet mischievous look as he held out his hand for you.

You boldly lace your fingers through his and lead him out of your apartment without a second thought, ignoring stares from literally everyone.

Oh my god, history really was repeating itself. Your mind flashes back to the walk you took with him that night at Johnny’s party; you lead him out of Johnny’s kitchen the exact same way right after the fight you had with an overprotective Soobin about trying to date Yeonjun.

You got Yeonjun a little flustered, which is a first, but he was happy with your directness. He couldn’t wait to be alone with you in a more private setting and if that meant leaving your own party, then so be it.  

Fresh air hits your lungs as the chilly spring night welcomes you outside. Your apartment was way too crowded and way too hot which made you sigh contently as the cold wind created goosebumps on your skin.

Yeonjun looked at you and stopped in his tracks while diverting his gaze at your still intertwined fingers.

You look back at him, confused as to why he stopped walking, but before you could ask questions; he pulled you towards him, trapping you into his strong arms. One of his hands made its way to the nape of your neck to slowly pat your hair as he leaned his chin on the top of your head.

You just let it happen, wrapping your arms around his torso while burying your face in the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of soap mixed with his expensive Chanel Bleu cologne hit your nostrils and the butterflies in your tummy start to flutter again after being on rest for six months.

Whole. That’s how you feel in the moment.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” You mumble into the hug, not wanting to look up at him out of fear that he might not have felt the same, but by the way he was holding you right now, you should know better. The insecurity of not being good enough still had its ways of fucking with your mind, even though you had no reason to be.

Yeonjun opened his eyes at your confession, not being able to hide how happy he was to hear that his feelings were mutual. He hid his grin by burying his face into your hair again as he giggled before pulling back slightly to see your face. You were trying incredibly hard to hide the heat that had risen to your cheeks but it was to no avail as Yeonjun mumbled something about how cute you were right now.

He was so worried you didn’t feel the same. He was convinced you forgot all about him at Brown. Your Instagram stories were filled with the countless parties you went to, the new people you met accompanied with the fact that your posts were littered with suggestive comments from guys he could only assume you met over there.

Yeonjun’s biggest fear relating to your return was that you utilized those six months away from him to move on, but as selfish as it sounds; he was so incredibly glad that you hadn’t.  

“Look at me.” He tried to cup your face but you didn’t let him, giggling into his chest as you protested.

The two of you must look absolutely pathetic to bystanders right now. You were completely stuck in your own world, acting like high school kids who were brand new to love, but somehow that’s exactly what you were.  

He chuckled lowly, as you tightened the hold you had on his waist. “Ah, whyyy…Look at me, come on.”

You do as you’re told, and when you look up you are greeted by the most beautiful smile you’ve seen in your life, making your breath hitch in your throat at how boyish yet manly he looked just now.

“Ok, I’m looking. Now what?” You challenge as you take a hold of his wrists as he cupped your face.

He didn’t know if he’d move too fast if he kissed your lips right now, so he decided against it while giving you a sweet kiss on your forehead instead.

“I just wanted to see your pretty face up close again. Instagram doesn’t do you justice, angel.”

“Oh, shut up.” You giggle, rolling your eyes as you push yourself out of his hold. You hate to admit it, but the little pet name made your heart skip a beat. You pretend to run from him, but he snatched you back in no time by tugging at your elbow with laughs and giggles. You give in and link arms with him as you resumed your walk through your neighborhood and look up at him to check if he was really here with you right now.

This whole thing just felt too good to be true. Here you thought he’d moved on from your relationship, but the confirmation that he hadn’t was nice, to say the least.

He looked down as he felt your eyes on him and smiles at you before looking at the path ahead of him.

“What?” he asks with an amused tone, but you just shake your head in response.

“You seem different.”  

“How different?”

“Like you aren’t carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore type of different.”

He nodded understandingly and stopped in his tracks to look into your eyes again. His hands traveled down to yours, lacing your fingers together once more before he sighed, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear for you.

You gave him an expecting look, squeezing the hand that was still intertwined with yours to assure him of the fact that you’re listening, which earned you a small smile.

“It’s cause I’m not. While you were changing the lives of others with your research, I was changing my own. At first, I thought the whole therapy thing was a hoax. I didn’t understand why talking to some stranger would fix me, but it helped me come to terms with a lot. I learned about acceptance and moving forward. And I learned that in order to be able to love someone in a healthy manner, I’d have to love myself first. You know…on a deeper level than just my handsome face” he jokes trying to lift some weight off of his words.

You roll your eyes, but secretly love his arrogance, making a low chuckle escape from your lips before you return to seriousness again.

“I’m so proud of you.” you say, and you mean it. You’re amazed at how clear his mind seemed to be. It’d usually take Yeonjun a good minute to collect his thoughts before he could talk about how he felt with you, but right now it came out so naturally, it was almost odd.

He gave you a weak side smile, making eye contact once again. “I’m nowhere near the finish line though. I can’t promise you that I’ll never fuck up again because I’m learning as I go, but what I can promise you, is that my heart and my feelings for you are unchanged. I haven’t stopped thinking of you, not once. The thought of being with you again was my driving force and I need you to know that.”

He caressed your cheek while you let his words sink in and suddenly you feel tears prickle your eyes.  

You were at a loss for words, completely lovestruck by his incredibly sweet and wise confession.

You hold onto his wrist for leverage, your breathing turned shaky and uneven as a tear escaped your eyes.

Here you thought he had completely moved on from your relationship. But god, you were so wrong, and you couldn’t be any happier.

“I promised myself to never make you cry again,” he joked lightheartedly as he wiped another tear away from your cheek, making you sniff in response, wiping them away with your sleeve quickly.  “They’re happy tears.”  

He looked into your eyes again, searching for answers and maybe even permission. He wanted to take things slow; give you time to reflect and time to adjust to being back home, but he simply couldn’t help himself.

When you leaned into his touch, he knew you basically gave him an okay to proceed.

He inched his face dangerously close to yours, lightly brushing his plump lips against yours. His hesitation made you smile, so you pull him down to your level by the back of his neck as you initiated the kiss.

He froze for a second at your dominance but quickly relaxed in your touch soon after he realized that you seemed to want this just as much as he did.

Kissing him was like muscle memory. It felt natural and blissful and suddenly you find yourself wondering about how you were able to live without this feeling of pure euphoria for over six months.

His love was like a drug, and all it took was one kiss to break your sobriety.

He pulled back, quickly assessing his surroundings before he realized the two of you were basically making out in the middle of the street.

He pulled you into an alleyway and pushed you against the wall of a random apartment building, his hands holding on to each side of your face delicately yet roughly as he kissed you with so much fervor, it almost made you dizzy.  

“You really had me thinking I lost you forever,” he mumbles as his lips disconnected from yours.

You weren’t given the change to respond as his lips found their way to the soft spot in your neck. He still remembered every sensitive inch of your skin and used it against you all too willingly; wrapping his hands around your throat as he kissed and licked a pattern from your jaw to your neck.  

A breathy moan left your lips as he started to suck possessive marks onto your neck and you instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, letting him do as he pleases, too entranced by the delicious feeling. You jumped up and he caught you by hooking his arms under your thighs, stabilizing you against the wall as you kept making out.

You giggled at his eagerness, a little flustered at the fact that you were in public; even though it was nighttime while being in a neglected alley; it still felt wrong.

He smirked against your neck when he felt you hesitate, and placed a soft yet wet kiss on your lips before letting go of you. He made sure you landed back on the ground safely, straightening out your clothes for you. “Maybe we should head back,” he says with a dark gaze, acting as if he didn’t just litter your neck with marks and bruises. He licked his pouty lips in amusement at the sight of what he had just done to you, knowing all too well that people would be able to see what happened while the two of you were gone.

You playfully shoved him aside, completely oblivious to how bad it really was but when you stepped into the elevator and saw your own reflection you gasped and shot Yeonjun a look of pure panic and distress. “YEONJUN!” you gasp loudly. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I’m sorry I just…couldn’t help myself.” he licked his lips again, cockiness emitting from his entire being. He inched closer to you to give you an innocent kiss on the top of your head and pulled the hair tie out of your hair, making your hair fall past your shoulders to cover the hickeys.

“This’ll do.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.”

He scoffed, casually smacking your ass in response.  

On the remaining way back to your apartment you were constantly fixing your clothes and hair, trying to let it nonchalantly fall to the front but you knew it looked rather ridiculous.

You had hoped your friends were too intoxicated to notice but when you stepped foot in your apartment with Yeonjun closely trailing behind you, all eyes were on you again.

How long were you two gone for? 10, maybe 20 minutes?

“Hyung.” Taehyun grabbed Yeonjun by his collar, turning him around which made Yeonjun frown at the younger one.

“For fucks sake.” Taehyun sighs dramatically, wiping something pink from the corner of Yeonjun’s mouth with his index finger.  

…it was your fucking lipgloss.

Yeonjun’s ears turned a bright red as he started to chuckle nervously. “Now I lost the fucking bet with Hueningkai. I thought it’d take at least a week before you two would start simping over each other again, it hasn’t even been an hour….AND OUTSIDE?” Taehyun sucks his teeth as a sign of disapproval, looking you up and down before his eyes lingered on your neck. “Animals. That’s it. That’s the description.”

“Pay up, loser. I told you.” Hueningkai cackles as he throws his arms around both Taehyun and Yeonjun’s shoulders.

“Y’all made a bet? An actual bet on our relationship?” you ask in pure disbelief. It was so like them to turn your emotional turmoil into their own amusement, but you couldn’t really be mad at them.

Your friends know the two of you better than anyone and probably saw this coming way before you did.

“Venmo me later.” Taehyun mumbles to Hueningkai in defeat while walking off, and you can’t help but chuckle at the irony of it all.  

All of these months left in pure insecurity about your relationship with Yeonjun. Nights of pondering about your future, worrying if he had moved on or not. It was all for nothing

Yeonjun and you move like magnets, and no course of time could really drive you apart because when you’re reunited, you will always find your way back to each other. Always.

He looked at you a little dreamily, it still wasn’t sinking in that you were back. For good. And all his.

He snaked his arm around your waist as he stood behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as you told your friends all about your adventures.

He was clingy, you were clingy and neither of you was hiding it for anyone. You’ve had your fair share of secrets with Yeonjun and you were more than glad that those times were over with.

At around 4 AM most people left, and you were left alone with the boys, Ryujin and Mia.

You were on the couch, perfectly comfortable on Yeonjun’s lap as you leaned into his chest. One hand was rubbing your back in up and down motions while the other had found its way under your shirt and onto your waist. His cold fingertips grazed over your bare skin and suddenly it was way too hard to stay awake.

The chatter of your friends became background noise as your eyelids grew heavy. But you were shortly awakened out of your slumber as you felt Yeonjuns lips on your temple.  

“You must be so tired after that flight and this whole circus,” he whispered with an empathetic pout, yet all you could do was nod as a response.

He chuckled at your cuteness and fixed a piece of your hair, kissing your forehead again before you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“It’s funny how nothing has changed, yet everything is different,” Beomgyu says as he stares at you and Yeonjun with a loving smile.

Beomgyu might be a little shit with a smart mouth, but he cares for his friends. Seeing the two of you be so content in each other's presence made love emit from his pupils. Even though Yeonjun had been doing so much better the best couple of months, nothing compares to the pure happiness and giddiness that Gyu was seeing from him now, and that was all because you were together again.

Beomgyu wasn’t the only one to notice, because it was literally all of them, and especially Soobin.

Soobin who literally rebelled against any type of relationship between you and Yeonjun was smiling at the sight of you in his arms fondly. His two best friends finally found solace in each other after all the shit that both of you had been through together, and it made him sentimental.

A year had passed since the two of you started dating unofficially, though this was the first time in that whole year that Soobin was completely okay with it.

You were long gone and off into dreamland by now as Yeonjun looked at you with a small smile on his lips, but when he looked up to check why everyone had stopped talking, he was met with six pairs of twinkling eyes on him.

His pupils darted back and forth between them in genuine confusion. “Why? What’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Soobin sighed contently. “For once, nothing is wrong.” he says as he leans forward to hug Mia from behind who was sitting between his legs on the floor.

Taehyun chuckled at Soobin’s dramatic statement and Hueningkai hummed in agreement.  

“Not to get all simpy or anything, but with her being back it feels like our little dysfunctional family is whole again.” Beomgyu mumbles as he let his head drop onto Ryujin’s shoulder.

“Let’s try to be less dysfunctional,” Hueningkai says with determination.  

“We can be less dysfunctional if you can clean up after yourselves and fold your own damn laundry so I don’t have to start a fight with you every 5 seconds,” Taehyun argues as he throws a pillow at Hueningkai's face. Making him laugh as he got in in the face with full force.

“Why can’t we just…have one peaceful moment…just one.” Soobin says rubbing his forehead in agony.

Yeonjun chuckled at the banter of his little brothers and looked back at you. “I don’t know guys, maybe that’s our charm,” he says leaving all of them in pure confusion as they looked at him for clarification.

“What do you mean by that.” Mia questions as she raises a brow at him.

“We’ll literally walk through fire to be there for each other, right? We go through things individually but will never fail to be there for each other in times of need, and I think we need to embrace our worst mistakes and arguments so we can grow from them. After all we’ve been through, I know we’ll be together forever. So, I say cheers to being dysfunctional,” He says with a proud smile, picking up his drink from the side table to raise it up in the air for a collective moment of cheers.

Dumbfounded by Yeonjun’s odd display of maturity and wise words, they all comply, raising their glasses in the air followed by a loud cheer to being “dysfunctional.”

The sudden loudness of their voices woke you up, completely out of it and sleep drunk; you lift your head from Yeonjun’s chest, squinting your eyes at your friends as you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Did I miss anything?” you say, your voice laced with sleep and confusion.

They all burst out into laughter at your current state paired with your obliviousness and messy bed hair.

“Nah, just six months of incompleteness,”  Yeonjun says as he pecks your lips.

Mia stayed over that night and helped you unpack and clean your whole apartment the next day, which you were super grateful for but...you’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish Yeonjun would’ve stayed the night.

The fact of the matter is that you haven’t had time for a serious talk with him yet, because you know, tongue punching each other was of higher priority than hashing things out with actual words. Which meant you hadn’t really talked about your relationship status or how things will be moving forward.

“The last game of the season is tonight. Are you going?” Mia asked as she plops down on your couch with you.

“The last one? Already?”

“Yeah we’re gonna go celebrate after.”

“Even if they lose?”

“Girl, you know they don’t lose.”  

You roll your eyes and laugh at Mia’s overconfidence in her boyfriends’ team. You were about to give her a definite answer before your phone started buzzing.

[Yeonjun, 12.44 PM]: Hi baby.

[Yeonjun, 12.45 PM]: Is it ok if I come over? I’ll bring us coffees from that café you love so much. 😌

[Y/N, 12.45 PM]: Yesss please 🥺

You giddily smile at your phone, wanting to squeal with excitement but you hold it in and Mia seems to notice. “Oh god, is it him?”

“Yeah, so.” you glare at her with playful intent “Let me be happy. He’s changed so drastically; I almost couldn’t believe that last night’s Yeonjun was the Yeonjun I left six months ago.”

“Yeah, he’s been working super hard to change and the whole thing with his mom helped too.”

“His mom? What do you mean?” You ask in genuine confusion, Mia bit her lip as she furiously shook her head. “Listen, I’m never, ever going to meddle in your relationship ever again. When he gets here, I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement until your attention is averted to your phone again as it buzzes in your lap once more.

[Hyunjin, 12.46 PM]: Hey sweetheart, did you have a good flight?  

Oh….

Your eyes shoot to Mia’s in panic and she frowns, taking your phone out of your hold to read the message.

“Oh my god…is this your little slip-up?” she asks with disgust evident on her features.

“What do you mean slip up? I am a single woman,” you argue, but Mia wasn’t having it.

“AM?”

“WAS? GIRL, I DON’T KNOW. It was a fling, nothing more.”

“Flings don’t call you sweetheart and ask you how your flight was.” Mia says squinting her eyes at you.

“Mia…”

She sighed, visibly irritated with how naïve you were being, but you couldn’t have known that you’d fall back into Yeonjun’s arms that fast, and it’s not like you ever dated Hyunjin. He was just a friend…who you’ve slept with once.  

“Listen, girl. I love you...but after everything Yeonjun has put himself through to be a better man for you, you better ghost this motherfucker right now or else.”

“Jeez, I will. It’s not like I like the guy. And since when are you team Yeonjun?”

She relaxed at your statement, slouching back into the couch. “A lot has changed y/n. He was a good friend to me when you weren’t here, that’s all.”

You nod understandingly, realizing that Yeonjun and yourself have a lot to talk about; maybe even more than you had hoped for now that Hyunjin reminded you of his existence with a mere text message.

Mia left soon after, wanting to give Yeonjun and yourself some privacy for when he got here, which wasn’t long after she left.

You opened the door for him, and he smiled at you. He was wearing a black beanie, an oversized black t-shirt, and those damned gray sweatpants of his that you love so much. Your heart did a thing at the sight and he quickly kissed your cheek before he rushed his way into your living room, trying to find a place to set down the coffee cups that were burning his fingertips at the touch.

“Careful.” You mumble as you watch him struggle. When he put the coffees down on your salon table, he quickly made his way to you again to properly kiss you this time.

He cupped your face, pulling you into him as he started to steal chaste kisses from your lips. You giggled into the kisses as you tried to untangle yourself from him, slapping his chest playfully to shoo him away.

He let go with a smile, taking your hand to lead you to your couch. You could tell by his whole body language and the way he skipped through your apartment that he was happier than ever.

You hoped you wouldn’t ruin that happiness by telling him about Hyunjin, but it shouldn’t matter because he didn’t matter. You only wanted to tell him just so you weren’t keeping any secrets anymore; cause god knows how that went the last time.  

“How’d you sleep?” he asks you as he hands you your coffee. You happily take it from him and keep your eyes on him as you take a sip. “Fine, it was weird being in my own bed again, I missed it though.”

“Yeah? Anything else you missed?” his gaze was piercing into you as he took a sip of his Americano, fully aware that he was fishing for an ego boost.

“Theres this guy I kinda missed, I guess his name is Yeonjun.” You shrug as you take another sip; your flirty playfulness is one of the things that he loved about you, it kept things spicy.

“Oh him? He wanted me to tell you that he kinda missed you too,” he says with an amused glimmer in his eyes.

You chuckle. “Good.”

Suddenly the two of you fell quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward quietness; it was more of a realization that your endless flirting had to turn into somewhat of a serious conversation.

“Yeonjun…”

“Hmm?” his eyes softened at the way you called his name, he set his coffee aside turning to you completely to show you that he was listening attentively.

You sigh, not knowing what else to say other than the following. “I love you and I want to be with you.”

His eyes grow in size, a little shook by your directness but he composed himself as he fixed his posture quickly. “Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?”

“I mean it, but I need to be honest with you too,”

“About what?”

“While I was at Brown, I kind of…flirted off and on with one of my lab partners and well…I slept with him…once. I swear it was only once and I-” he cut you off by raising his hand so you’d stop your nervous rambling and sighed. He knew exactly who you were talking about, because he had seen that motherfucker all over Instagram and had honestly seen this confession coming from miles away. 

He was glad you told him though, cause he'd feel worse if you tried to hide it from him.

Though you didn’t post about him, Hyunjin did post about you, and basically tagged you in all of his Insta stories or group pictures. Yeonjun shamelessly cyberstalked the guy. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments, but he had to just to stay sane.  

“Baby, we were broken up. You don’t have to justify what you did or didn’t do at that time. It’s not like I expected you to turn into a nun.”  

You raise your brows in surprise at his mature response. “You’re not mad?”

“No. As long as it’s over with.”

“It is, I promise.”  

“Good,” he sucked his teeth as he watched you. “Also, it’s not like anyone can fuck you as well as I can,” he states with a devious smirk as he pulled you close, making you gulp in response to his choice of words.

He chuckles at how easily intimidated you were by him and takes the opportunity to tease you.  

“Did he?”  

“N-no.” you stutter, innocently staring up at him. “He didn’t”

“Good girl.” He says, biting his lip while letting his thumb ghost over your lower lip.

His choice of words made your stomach turn but you knew better than to let lust get the best of you once again.

“Yeonjun…” you breathe his name like a warning, trying to avert the tension. “We…we need to talk.”

“We can talk.” He shrugs, pulling your legs towards him aggressively so you’d slide down. Your back was now on the couch as he parted your legs, settling himself in between them before hovering over you to kiss over the bruises he left last night. “After I give you a little reminder.” He smiles against your skin, pulling your shirt over your bra so he could kiss a trail down to your belly button.

“God I missed you,” he says digging his nails into your waist. "So fucking much."

(Warning: heavy smut ahead!)

Your mind goes into overdrive as he unties the tie to your sweatpants, and as he does so you stare at the outline that had formed in his own.

He didn’t waste any time, pulling down the waistband of your joggers with one swift motion while you helped him by lifting your hips off the couch.

He discarded of your clothes faster than your mind could comprehend but then you noticed that he was fully clothed, when the only thing you were wearing by now were your panties.

You pouted, pulling at his waistband but he grabbed your wrist, pinning your hands above your head so he could look at you, beautiful, bare, and all his.  

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” His lips found their way to the sensitive nub of your breast as he eagerly licked and sucked on it while his fingers found their way onto your still clothed heat.

He rubbed his middle and index finger over your clit, making you moan at the sudden stimulation.

He pulled away, making his way down to your core as he littered your inner thigh with more and more hickeys.

You were eagerly moving your hips by now, trying to get him to kiss you where you wanted him most, but he was taking his sweet time and you were losing your patience.

“Y-Yeonjun…” you moan his name. He finally rewards you by pulling your panties aside. Licking his lips at your glistening arousal, ready to feast on you as if it was the last meal he’d ever have.

“Fuck.” He says with admiration to no one in particular, placing a soft kiss on your pussy before he started to slowly kitten-lick your sensitive nub. He lowly hummed in approval at the taste of you and fastened his pace slowly.

You gasped, arching your back to give him better access as he started to eat you out like you’ve never experienced in your life.

His skill was baffling, he had your brain melting and legs shaking while he struggled to keep you still.

“Ah…” you arch your back once more, trying to get away from the overstimulation but he held you down with his strong arms.

“Who are you running from baby, stay still.” He ordered with a low voice before getting back to business, and with ten more seconds, he had you cumming in his mouth as the vibration of his low hums drove you over the edge. You cover your own mouth to muffle your loud cries, but he pulled your hands away from your face, wanting to hear you fall apart for him.

“That’s it baby.” he mused in approval, finishing you off with one last lick before he came back up to assess your fucked out state. “So fucking good for me.”  

Your chest was heaving up and down rapidly as you were trying to catch your breath. Once again you lost to the charms of Choi Yeonjun, but he was nowhere near done with you.

He quickly got rid of his own clothes and pumped himself a few times while looking straight into your eyes.

This man is a god, and he knew it.

His mischief returned when he realized you were watching him. “I think I got you wet enough, right baby?”

You almost forgot about his grit, your mouth salivating at the sight. Any slick you could build with him was a gift, because the last thing you wanted was for him to start a fire down there, cause that’s just how big he was.

You sit up which surprised him, but when you spit in your hand and pumped him a few times to slick him up some more he chuckled lowly as he realized what you were doing. He moaned in the form of a sharp exhale as your pace fastened, but he didn’t let you take control just yet.

“Scared?” he teased, keeping his eyes on you as you twisted your wrist a little more.

“No.” you huff.

“Then turn around.”  

You comply without a thought. You were both sitting up on your knees while your back leaned against his chest. You threw your head back and he kissed your forehead sweetly. guiding himself into you while his other hand held onto your waist to stabilize you against him.

You curse at the stretch, digging your nails into his thighs for leverage as he fills you up.

You both moan as your walls clenched around him. His arms snaked around you from behind as he took a hold of your neck, pinching down on the veins on each side of your throat as he slammed his hips into you continuously with long and deep strokes.

The choking sensation made everything so much more intense, especially when the fingers of his other hand started to rub circles on your still abused clit.

Your eyes rolled back as your vision got blurry, tears prickling your eyes at how good you were being wrecked right now.

He let go of your neck, putting his hand on the small of your back to push you down on the couch so your ass was up, and your face was down.

He started to pound into you mercilessly, his rhythm and pace perfectly alternating as he grabbed a fistful of your hair. “You’re mine,” he grunted as he felt himself getting closer and closer by the physical stimulation of your tightness and the mental stimulation of your moans and mewls.

It didn’t take long before you both reached your highs as he was prone boning you into heaven.

Your orgasm washes over you, and right after you came, he reached his own high.  

He pulled out right before he busted, releasing himself onto your back with a loud growl.  

Your eyes flutter closed; way too fucked out to function as you catch your breath. You feel his weight move off of you to grab one of the napkins on your side table that came with the coffees, and wiped his cum off of you with a cocky smile on his face.

You built up the energy to look back at him, and when your eyes meet all you can do is giggle with him at how ridiculous you two are.

“So…I guess now we can talk,” he says with a smirk.

- end of smut -

Once you fully recovered from having your back blown out…quite literally. You came out of your bedroom after a quick change of clothes.

You walk into your living room while you pull a clean shirt over your head.

 Yeonjun was still on your couch, watching you with a big boyish smile on his face as his gaze followed you.

“All good?” he asks, opening his arms for you. You nod in response, excitedly making your way into his arms. He moved you on top of him so you were on his lap and kissed your cheek sweetly.

“Where do we even start.” You think out loud as you start playing with Yeonjun’s hair. He threw his head back in solace, letting you massage his scalp softly.

You chuckle at his reaction, stopping your actions which made him lift his head up immediately, giving you a kittenish angry face. “Why’d you stop.”

“Because it’s been an hour since you got here and all we do is dance around the subject,” you say as you move off of him. You turn sideways, leaning against the armrest of your couch while you drape your legs over his lap and sigh.

After deciding that Yeonjun would go first, he told you everything. From the progress he has made with his therapist to the baffling information of his mother selling Choi Enterprises and moving closer to the Uni for him. He told you about their relationship and his interest in the fashion industry. He’s been spending time with his friends in the dance studio again after years of neglecting his hobby and his grades are improving drastically compared to last year too.

He’s been doing well both mentally and socially. Even though he still has his bad days, he’s a lot happier than he was before. You listened attentively asking questions and making sure you understood every detail to your best ability.

When it was your turn to start talking, you realize just how sadistic your exchange was now that you’re explaining the details out loud. You told him about the crazy schedules, spending days from 8 am to 10 pm in the lab, neglecting your health just to forget about your heartache. You were being brutally honest, and you saw Yeonjun’s jaw clench at the revelation.  

If he knew you were having such a hard time, he would’ve contacted you more, but you explained to him how the experience made you stronger, harder and less of a cry baby.  

You spoke about your new gained independence and soon realized that, where Yeonjun needed emotional cradling, you needed to be hit with the real world without the safety net that your friends and parents always provided for you.

The two of you had been talking for over two hours, and finally came to the inevitable question.

“So…what does that make us.” You sigh as you played with his fingers.  

“Really, the ‘what are we’ question?” he chuckled, watching you play with the ring on his index finger.

“Well. Do you have an answer?” you mumble, letting go of his hand.

“I’m yours,” he says, putting his hand on your thigh while his other hand tugged on your chin to make you look up at him.

Your eyes grew in size, swallowing harshly when his fingers moved from your chin to caress your cheek. “And I don’t want to take things slow anymore, I love you too much to relive the dating phase."

“Me too,” you agree with determination. He smirked contently, leaning into you to feverishly kiss you on the lips.

“You know what that was?” He asks as he pulls away with his face still in close proximity.

“What?” you question with a giggle.

“Our first kiss as boyfriend and girlfriend.”  

You slap his chest, bursting into laughter at his cheesiness. The sound of your laughs and giggles filled the room as he started to kiss you all over your face and neck, leaving you breathless and ticklish at his touch

“I love you, Choi Yeonjun, but I think you have an important basketball game to get to.”

Of course they won.  

Yeonjun made the winning point which meant he had something to brag about all night.

You were at a local diner with all of the boys, their teammates, and respective girlfriends or boyfriends. Drinking, talking, and overall having a good time.

When Mia, Ryujin, Soobin, Taehyun, Beomgyu and Hueningkai heard the news about your new relationship status, they basically congratulated you as if you announced that you were getting married.  

The whole thing was just way too funny, and Yeonjun dragged you around all night to introduce you to everyone.  

The freshman on the team were so confused when Yeonjun introduced you as his girlfriend because they had never heard of or seen you before.  

“Hyung, Imma be honest with you, I kinda thought you were gay.” Sunghoon admits as he apologetically scratched the back of his head.

“…S-same” Heesung states, looking at you both with apologetic eyes as well.

Yeonjun looked at them a little funny as he burst into laughter, pulling you closer to him. “Why?”  

“Because well, we haven’t seen you with a girl all year, and with the way you look, I don’t know. 1+1 was gay I guess.” Jay, another freshman explained their point of view a little further, which had you cackling at the situation.

“Oh my god, so you little shits were the ones spreading rumors about me and Wooyoung!?”  

“N-no! NO!” The kids protested, but Yeonjun was already playfully grabbing them by their collars to scold them.

You laughed at the whole ordeal, love emitting from your eyes as you watched Yeonjun be in his popular guy element again.

You zoned out for a bit, absentmindedly listening to how Beomgyu and Hueningkai were telling a story about that one time they took Yeonjun’s car for a joyride in the middle of the night without his permission.  

Yeonjun noticed your mental absence, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest, softly kissing your temple.

“What’s wrong?”  

You shake your head, sentiment getting the better of you. This is the most complete you’ve felt in a while.

You kissed him with fervor, your hands lacing through his dark locks before you pulled away to place a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m just really happy right now,” you say as you smile at each other lovingly.

1 year later.

Graduation was around the corner.

It was insane how fast time flew. You celebrated your first-year anniversary with Yeonjun the night before and were now laying in his bed the next morning, slowly waking up just to feel the soreness of what he did to you last night.

You groaned in agony at the bright light, even after all this time; you still weren’t a morning person.

You noticed how Yeonjun was missing from the bed, so you got up to look for him. Putting on his large shirt to cover yourself as you made your way to the boys’ living room.

Soobin was on the couch with Taehyun and Hueningkai looking you up and down with disapproval.

“Jesus. Did you get hit by a truck in there?” Taehyun asks as he clicked his tongue.

“Shut up smart-ass. Where’s Yeonjun?”  

Taehyun chuckled, being completely used to your grumpiness in the morning by now. If Yeonjun wasn’t staying at your place, you were staying at theirs; so they were more accustomed to having you around like this.  

“He said he had to run a quick errand; he’ll be back soon,” Soobin replies with light amusement in his eyes at how roughed up you looked.

“Hey, next time…be a little more quiet.” Beomgyu tells you as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.  

“My room is next to Yeonjun’s you know.”

“Oh shut up hyung, I hear you and Ryujin almost every night,” Hueningkai says rolling his eyes, which made you crack your first smile of the day.

“Oh nooo, not my pure baby Hueningie” Soobin pouted as he trapped Kai in between his legs for a hug.

“Hyung, you’re gonna have to let go soon. Literally. When you guys graduate you don’t get to live here and baby me anymore.” Hueningkai protests as he tries to push Soobin off of him.

Soobin pouted, making you immediately feel bad for him. 

When Yeonjun and Soobin would move out, Jay and Heesung would move in, which meant that Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai had to hold down the fort as seniors for one more year until they graduated, and the thought alone made Soobin feel uneasy.

Soobin and Mia were officially moving in together after graduation. They had planned their whole futures together and both had job offers in the city from their internships.

“I’ll still come over…every…weekend. You know, just to make sure.”

You drift off into thought, realizing how Yeonjun and yourself have been living your lives in the moment without concrete plans for the future together.

Since your apartment was off-campus you still got to live there after graduation. You had gotten an amazing job offer because of your research at Brown, which had major corporations battle it out with outrageous contracts, salaries, and promises to your favor so your options were most definitely open.

Your future looked bright, as did Yeonjun’s who’d be working as a Creative Director for his mothers’ luxury brand...but how did you two miss the mark on planning a future together?

Were you that caught up in your own world to realize that adult decisions had to be made soon?

Yeonjun walked in, interrupting your thoughts. “Oh, hey guys.”

He set his keys on the kitchen counter, giving you a funny look. “I texted you to get ready.”

“Oh..shit, I didn’t check my phone, Sorry. Give me 20 minutes.”

You didn’t question why he wanted you to get ready, he’d probably take you out for breakfast or some shit, so you weren’t suspecting anything, but Yeonjun could sense that something was off about you.

During the car ride to your unknown destination, he looked at you as you stared out of the window. You were lost in deep thought about the whole graduation thing and didn’t even notice how the houses on the streets were starting to get ridiculously big as you drove further and further into a random neighborhood

He grabbed your hand, kissing the inside of your palm while rubbing those comforting circles into your skin.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, trying to look at the road while also looking at you from time to time.

“I’m just…worried about life after graduation. I don’t like change.”

Yeonjun raised his brows in surprise, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he turned the corner into a brand-new built street filled with massive villas.

The neighborhood looked peaceful, not too flashy and private. Maybe even a little too perfect to be real.

He pulled up to a random house, parking his car on the driveway. The confusion was evident on your face as he opened the door for you, reaching out to take your hand.

He helped you out of the car and you give him a look, chuckling at his awkwardness. “Uh…are we here to see someone?”

He sighed, back hugging you and leaning his head on your shoulder as the both of you looked up at the house.

“What do you think of this place?”

“It’s…beautiful. But I don’t really get why we’re here.” You giggle as you feel him kiss your neck and you turn around to face him, trying to find answers in his eyes.

“If you want…we can stay here.” He bit his lip nervously. “You know, after graduation.”

“W-what? I’m confused. Like Till The End of Summer?”

He shook his head, laughing once again while snaking his arms around your waist at your innocence and obliviousness. “You’re so cute,” he muses, pulling out a set of keys from his pocket and suddenly realization hit you as pure shock takes over your features.  

He bought the fucking house.  

He couldn’t help but laugh at your shocked Pikachu face. He had been planning this behind your back for so long and it was incredibly hard to keep this a secret, especially since literally everyone knew about it but you.  

You didn’t know what to do or say, completely frozen and shocked as you look at the house with big watery eyes.  

He pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss, giving you the keys to the front door with a big smile.  

“Till the End of Our Lives.”  

Bonus Chapter 15

[vydante]

Restart | END | Avengers x Male! Reader

I am discontinuing my Restart series because I've simply lost creative juices for it. That's it, no elaborate or other reason. Anyways, I didn't want to just end it on the last chapter, and as someone who loves to overshare (especially if it's unsolicited), I thought some might like to see what drafts I had in plan, going chapter by chapter.

It goes up to Ch. 20 with additional bonus chapters, and chapters where I wasn't sure where they were going to be placed in the timeline.

If you have any comments, let me know! I'd love to read them :)

Here goes! Warning: very long, since the formatting is weird! The reader will be referred to as (Name) and "you", as in the story.

Right after Ch. 12 (Circumvention), are 2 special chapters (High Caliber Bullet) & (America's Sweethearts).

(High Caliber Bullet)'s basic plot was that Barnes, now # amount of weeks since the last chapter, has gained some freedoms and can now go out and about with either (Name) or DAHLIA for supervision (via his phone, and through the cameras everywhere).

In this particular chapter, he basically goes out for a typical grocery run with DAHLIA "accompanying" him, since before, he remembers (Name) telling him that "I won't always be there with you". But something bad happens! Wooo! (Maybe an attempted robbery, I didn't have the details sorted out yet.)

Either way, DAHLIA loses contact with him, and she tries to contact you ASAP, but it takes a little while since your dumbass was asleep the whole time! Wow! The suit had to manually power on and shake you awake.

Anyways, the only thing I had "written down" after that was that, after a failed search attempt for James, you go back home and are greeted with a surprise... "Kabedon"? Or, you're pinned to the walls by James... Or, rather, the Winter Soldier! 

You're not sure what's going on, only that, "Wow, Barnes is acting weird. Why is he suddenly Russian? Wh- Okay, wow, he's suddenly gotten a lot closer. Now, wait a fuckin' minute-!"

Either way, you and James make a discovery of a second personality living inside his body- the Soldier! Or Winter, I'm still unsure which I would have gone for. If you're familiar with certain WinterIron tropes, this is one of them. Anyways, that's the end of that chapter, or what I had written so far, anyway.

This chapter is really important to the canon of Restart since it establishes Soldier, but it didn't fit into my initial plans of 10 chapters an arc, so. That's why it's a "special" chapter.

The next "special" chapter after that was (America's Sweethearts). I had written 2 "chunks" of text for this chapter. The main plot is, basically, you and Steve spent a platonic (promise!) Valentine's Day together. Hence the title. Cute, right? This was referenced in Ch. 9 (Revelation) during Future! Steve's reminiscing.

Anyways, below the next text is what I had written for that chapter. It will be in normal text.

No other thoughts on that, so let's move on.

"You live like this?"

In his defense, Steve's apartment wasn't messy in the slightest. In fact, it was the other way around- everything was too clean, too pristine, too detached. The only saving grace he's getting from standing in the middle of his apartment is the fact that compared to the chilly Brooklyn weather, it was almost obnoxiously warm in his apartment. 

Not only did he have the heater going on, but he had another separate, portable heater blasting hot air in the corner.

(Sometimes, and only sometimes, Steve will stand in front of the heater and slowly spin around like a rotisserie chicken. The heat feels good, in his defense.)

The heat was something that you, thankfully, didn't comment on as you shed your jacket and slung it around the coat hanger near the door. You're wearing an over-sized tee- Thor's tee, he absentmindedly notes- and some sweats, both like and unlike the (Name) he often sees.

(It's not uncommon for Steve to glance at a newspaper or TV still shot and see you with your hair slicked back and dressed head to toe in a suit so expensive he's confident it costs at least a few years' worths of a typical New Yorker's rent.

Neither is uncommon to see you on the front cover of Men's Magazine, wearing a simple tee that shouldn't look that good on you but still does and posing confidently for the camera.

But despite all that, all of the clearly flattering outfits you could possibly wear at the tips of your fingers, often Steve will see you wear a disparagingly obnoxious, dirty shirt, and an old pair of sweats as your go-to outfit.)

(No, he will never admit that he really likes seeing you like that. Even with the mysterious smudged substance often found on the bottom of your sweats, as if you had swing danced in mud and crude oil.)

Regardless, while he often questions your private life fashion choices (and this is coming from a man who willingly wears khakis), he at least knows why you're wearing what you are, given the fact that he's also dressed in an overused tee and some joggers.

"What's wrong with my apartment? Not up to par with your penthouse standards?" Steve jests.

"Steve. Please." You threw him an unimpressed glare, much to Steve's never-ending amusement.

You glanced back to the inside of the apartment and squinted at it with what Steve could only describe as a rich man's scrutinizing gaze, before shrugging nonchalantly. You strolled into his apartment with a confidence Steve can still never get used to, one that reminds him so much of Tony's, and even Howard on his bad days.

(He understands why Tony doesn't like it when he brings Howard up, as he belatedly realizes that Howard didn't die the same man he knew him as, but he never understood why you've suddenly gotten bitter about Howard as well.)

He follows you into the hallway, and if it weren't for the fact that this was his apartment, he would've looked like a lost puppy following its new owner.

His apartment's not really that big, so it doesn't take long before you've both reached the living room. A simple TV, simple couch, simple table. Nothing really exciting in his living room, but it serves its purposes, in Steve's opinion.

(This is the end of that chunk. Next is where I picked up in writing. Short time skip, they both fall asleep and now Steve's waking up.)

It was the change in the smell that woke him up.

It's always the scent of fresh linen that greeted him early in the morning, something that's become so attuned to his everyday life. So when, instead, popcorn and sweets drifts his way, for a brief second his heart rate jumps.

'What?', his mind asks as he opens his eyes, bleary but cautious.

'Oh,' his mind responds back at him when his eyes drift down to your sleeping form laying splayed right on top of him, body glued to his side. You're mainly hogging the blanket, but he doesn't really mind as he runs hot 24/7. 

'Oh', his mind repeats softly, as something deep unfurls from his stomach and rises to his throat, clenching up and unable to say anything as his eyes fixate themselves on your steady breathing. Your lips are too close to his neck, each breath too warm, even for him. His skin burns where it meets yours, and absently he thinks, 'this is nice'.

'Yeah,' he lifts his hand to brush away a strand of hair away from your eyes, 'This is nice.'

Steve blearily throws a glance at the clock on his nightstand. 4 more minutes until he'd typically wake up and start his day with a morning jog.

'No,' his body protests.

'Okay,' his mind agrees without a fight.

He carefully reaches over and presses the silence button on his alarm. Above him, a breathy exhale escapes your lips at the sudden movement, and if possible, you curl closer to him than you were before. He pauses, unsure if you're going to wake up or not, but relax when he realizes that you're still in a deep slumber.

(Another break. Next sentence was supposed to be the final sentence of the chapter.)

In the end, neither of you commented about how Steve had missed his daily morning run as his limbs were straddled in between yours.

Ch. 13 (Upheaval) and 14 (Airlocked) are short in terms of drafting, so I'll combine them into one section here. Ch. 13 (Upheaval) was about taking down SHIELDRA in a better manner than the mess that was CA:TWS. And (Name) also forces Steve and Natasha to fess up immediately about Tony's parent's murderer. ((Name) threatens them.)

As for Ch. 14 (Airlocked), it's pretty much a filler chapter of sorts. (Name) graduates, there's now an official class-action lawsuit against Ross, also now keeping an eye on Baron Zemo, and we see some progression on Barne's therapy session. Not much, but some.

I really was not looking forward to these two chapters, as I knew they were gonna be boring as hell.

Ch. 15 (Spiralling) has actual written chunks. It's basically about the early prevention of Ultron. The Avengers go to a Sokovian HYDRA base, take out baddies, and the Super Twins get captured first- wow! But not before Wanda does... something to (Name), causing you to hallucinate and lose contact with the team- uh oh!

But don't worry! You get run over by a car. Lol. Below is what I had written for it, sans minor text.

A/N: In Ch. 7 (Summer), there was a 'dream-sequence' that happened where (Name) was on Titan with Tony, Peter, Stephen, and the GOTG. I've now decided that in canon, (Name) was not on Titan- instead, you were on Earth instead during IW helping at Wakanda. Just a brief plot-hole wrap-up; let's imply that (Name) had watched video footage of the fight at Titan via Tony's suit afterward, and that's where the nightmare came from. Okay bye.

(VERY abrupt start into the story, not meant to be the start of the chapter in the final draft, just where I wanted to start writing. Intro to Wanda.)

You jerked your head, catching a glimpse of brunette hair in the corner of your eyes. You swung your gauntlet instinctively and made instant contact with whatever was next to you. Flutters of red wisps followed your eyes, and you instantly knew what just happened as a body dropped next to you. 

You grunted and leaned onto the nearest wall, watching the girl's limp body with caution. Your shoulder plate lifted, and a tranquilizing dart connected to her thigh.

Just in case.

"Guys, I- I've been- ugh..." You wanted to vomit, the pounding in your head worsening with each millisecond that passes. Already, your surroundings distort you with each blink, walls melting and the floor sinking in on itself. "I've been- com-," you swallowed back your bile, "-compromised... Sending- location... Ergh..."

You didn't even have enough time to hear a response before the whole world around you shifted. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm your thundering heartbeat. The pounding got worse as the armor around you dissipated into nothing but the under-suit you were wearing. Before, where there were the shouting and gunshots, is now replaced with an eerie silence filled with just your laborious breathing.

You didn't know the full extent of what visions you were about to see, but you needed to remember that none of this is real. Scientifically, that was your only safe haven from possibly losing your mind for what's about to come. And it was worse because you had no idea what visions you'd see. Would you see Thanos? The Chitauri, just like your father once had? Or would it be something more close to home; the bunker? Tony's dead body, splayed with vomit around him, frostbitten to the touch and still like a marbled statue? 

Ready to go up and arms at whatever it was you're about to see, you cautiously opened your eyes.

(Line break, there's meant to be an "oh shit" line, like "Only, you were met with eyes far too similar to yours." but I still didn't know what I wanted to do for the hallucination sequence. Maybe meeting an older you, a younger you, or your dream life without the Avengers or meta-humans.)

(Below is an abrupt shift in the story; same general setting, but outside POV! What I had was dialogue only, alternating between people in bold, as a POV switch.)

(Name) "Guys, I- I've been- ugh... I've been- com-compromised... Sending- location... Ergh..." 

(Steve) "Apex, do you copy? (Name)!" 

(Steve) "Shit, (Name) isn't answering! Tony!"

(Tony) "Got his location, he's inside the base. J.A.R.V.I.S., what's his status?" 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I'm sorry, Sir, but it appears that I am not in contact with his suit." 

(Tony) "Wha- the hell do you mean you're not in contact?!" 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I cannot connect to his suit; it appears that Young Sir has somehow deprogrammed me from his suit." 

(Tony) "Wha-!" 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "However, it seems as if there is an A.I. present nonetheless. Though..." 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I do not recognize the code. Would you like me to attempt at forming a mode of communication?" 

(Tony) "Yeah, just- God, make sure (Name)'s okay, please." 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "On it." 

(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "Establishing a connection." 

(DAHLIA) "Mister Stark?"

(Tony) "Wha- I'm sorry- who are you?"

(DAHLIA), ignoring Tony, "An enhanced got to (Name). The operative is down, but (Name)'s experiencing hallucinations. I can't get through to him- you need to get to him, now. I fear he may hurt himself more than he already has."

(DAHLIA) "And if I may be privy to a request?"

(Tony) "What?"

(DAHLIA) "Don't bring Rogers." (I don't remember why I wrote this bit.)

(Steve) "Any updates on (Name)?"

(Tony) "Yep, and by the looks of it," there was a loud boom coming from the base, and as Tony looked up to see an all too familiar suit fly out of the building. Or, rather, flying was an interesting way to put it- it was more of a free-falling more than anything else.

(Steve) "What was that?"

(Tony) "That was (Name), and he's not havin' a great time I'll tell you that."

His voice was light and joking, but he'd be lying if he didn't say that his heart wasn't in his throat by the sight of you flying out of the building and falling back into the forests.

(Line break, another POV switch)

Steve sprinted towards the loud boom, movements quick and calculated, but mind racing a thousand miles an hour. He saw a red and gold glint fly up above him, zipping in and out between trees gracefully. 

(Line break, but no switch, same place. Another story POV shift, sort of. Steve makes contact with (Name), or so he thinks.)

"(Name)? Hey, do you copy?"

The suit was eerily silent, glowing eyes that once gave comfort to the soldier now bringing nothing but an awful, gripping dread; one that he'd get when there were Nazi soldiers nearby, but he couldn't tell where even with his enhanced senses. The suit gave away nothing that usually screamed out everything that was you- no head swaying, no restless and constantly shifting feet, only a stillness that looked so unnatural. Almost as if there was no one in there.

"(Name)?"

There was no response from you.

The hairs on Steve's neck stood up, everything in his system suddenly screaming to get out of there, run, leave, get away from the suit, but he ignored it as he took a cautious step forward.

Again, you didn't seem to react.

Then, the suit took a step forward.

Then another one.

And another one.

"(Name)-"

Before he could say anything more, the suit lunged forward. Only for a moment could Steve react, but even he wasn't as fast as you could be when you're in the suit. He raised his shield, ready to be shot at, but only the sound of harsh metal on metal makes it to his ears. By the sounds of it, it sounded like Tony had managed to land a direct hit on you, from wherever position he was at. Cautiously, Steve lowers his shield to look.

But instead of the familiar red and gold suit of armor greeting him, it's the sight of two (color) suits wrestling on the ground with each other that manages to sucker-punch all air from his lungs.

(Basically, you went bat shit insane and got out of the older suit, then prematurely activating the nano suit instead, in a fit of panicked hallucination. The older suit, now operating by DAHLIA, was trying to protect Steve from being ambushed by (Name), and now they're wrestling.)

(Another big break, but I think I had a hallucination sequence from (Name)'s POV planned here. Not sure what I was gonna do here since I planned this like, maybe in 2018, early 2019. It's... 2021 now...)

"-(Name)!"

Your eyes widened as the world around you suddenly shifts out of existence, and instead, you're outside in the dim, snowy alps once again. Someone called out to you, you don't know who, but there's a light in the corner of your eyes that's so goddamn bright. You turn your head in the direction of the light, and amidst all of the yelling and gunshots, DAHLIA's cool, chilling voice rings the loudest in your ear.

"Aborting protoc-"

And then the world turned black.

Ch. 16 (Enflamed) also has written text. Basically, you're recovering from being caught slipping by a car, the team is now aware of certain secrets you've been keeping behind their backs, and you realize that you have to get back to Barnes to let him know you're okay.

This chapter was meant to be focused on the twins, but I guess I forgot that as I was "writing" it. Basically, the gist was that their parent's deaths weren't by officially licensed Stark tech (maybe even a counterfeit since Stark weapons are the best, and don't malfunction as it did in WandaVision ep. 8). Maybe HYDRA was the one that did it in order to recruit more people. Or something like that. Basically, Tony wasn't the one who authorized those weapons to be sold and used there, but it was Stane. Either way, they get their own healthy moment to mourn and lament over it all.

Here's the text below. Italics for a dream sequence, since you were unconscious/ in a coma from being bOnked on by a car.

"Hey, sweetheart."

You smile, turning around to face the voice only to be greeted with lips on yours. You chuckle, amused that this was the first thing you'd be greeted with, but lean into the kiss anyways as you wrapped your fingers around their cheek.

They pull back first, but their eyes are warm as they smile, lingering in the space between the two of you. Where their hands laid on your hips, your skin burned bright hot, but you paid no mind to it. 

(There's supposed to be more, maybe foreshadowing, but I stopped here in terms of the dream sequence. Jump cut to another POV, but you're waking up!)

(Name) "Hnng..."

(Steve) "Stay down! You're in no condition to move at all, just- just rest, okay? The doctors- and- your dad are coming."

(Steve) "How're you feeling? You want some water?"

You tried to turn your head to look at the blonde but hissed suddenly.

(Name) "S'nnof'a' b'ch..." (Son of a bitch.)

Steve helped you settle back onto your pillow- which even he'll admit doesn't look like the most comfortable setting in the world.

"Language, (Name)..."

He reprimanded, but there's no heat in his words as he's just so thankful that you're even capable of forming any words, no matter how profane they may be.

Beside him, Clint laughs a bit too loud for comfort. Steve wants to tell him to be quiet, as he's sure you're sensitive to noise right now, but God he can't blame the archer for his overwhelming relief. 

Lord knows Clint wasn't the only one to stress over their youngest Avenger.

"First words after a damn coma, and it's 'son of a bitch'! I told you he's a fighter!"

"Of course he is, he's a Stark after all."

All eyes turn to see the billionaire and assassin walk into the room. They look clean and pristine as always, but by the slight sheen of sweat on both of them, Steve knew they rushed here as soon as word spread that you were awake.

(Natasha) "Tooting your own horn a little much there?"

Natasha's smile betrays her words as she looks fondly from the senior Stark to the junior. Even the ironclad wall she has up 24/7 has a soft spot for the team's junior member.

(Especially for the junior member, but you didn't hear that from Steve.)

(Tony) "It's both of our horns, excuse you."

Tony turns his attention to you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"You sure took a hit back there, champ."

"Mmm... 'm feel like a... Nn... A damn Make A W'sh kid...", (Mm, am feeling like a damn Make A Wish kid...) your eyes, though blown out from still being drugged up, wandered across each Avenger. You frowned, then smirked- well, as best as you could, anyways. 

"Where's th' Hul'k? T'or?" (Where's the Hulk? Thor? (As a joke, since usually the whole gang visits, but they're missing))

"Relax junior, you're not that special. We can only afford so many Avengers to visit you."

Despite his harsh words, Tony places a kiss right on your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed, lashes delicately batting as Tony leans away.

(Big block of nothing, there were supposed to be more text here, more dialogue or something. Same setting!)

(Tony) "So. We need to talk about what happened back there. Y'know. The brand-smackin' new A.I. that's in your suit- she's been awfully quiet. Oh, and the- lord, the thing's a work of art- the- what is it? Nanite suit? That's in a collar- a collar? I mean, I'm not one to judge questionable fashion statements, but-"

(Steve, or someone else) "Tony."

(Tony) "Right- but, we are going to talk about all that, okay?"

"L'ter, ple's? Am tir'd..." (Later, please? Am tired.)

"An' b'sides, chok'r's fun..." (And besides, chokers are fun.)

(Line break, basically, you remember you have a certain Winter Soldier that's been sitting at home without any word from you.)

’Oh fuck.’

(Big line break, basically, you get discharged from the hospital, and now you visit the safehouse Barnes is in to check up on him.)

It was eerily quiet when you opened the door to the safe house. You limped into the door, thankful that the ride on the way back, there were no paparazzi to see you leave at all. (Really, Happy should get a raise.) Lord knows how much of a rile that'll get out of the news media.

'Avengers' Golden Boy: Fatally Injured?' or something dumb like that.

You'd love to roll your eyes, but the tension that's coiling up in your gut surpasses the want as you slowly step into the house. It's warm, more so than the slow brewing chill that's been tempering outside. James never liked the cold, but even so, the house was warmer than you remembered. His shoes are still near the doorway, in the exact place that you remembered it to be, so he definitely hasn't gone anywhere.

(Though, the alerts that were on your phone from DAHLIA definitely show that he wanted to.)

For a brief moment, you were concerned that there wasn't enough food; but even then, DAHLIA would still be up, so she could place an online order to refill the fridge at a moment's notice, so it's not like James (even with his super-soldiered appetite) would starve himself here.

You quietly slipped out of your shoes, slowly as to not incur another cramp in your back, and stepped into the hallway barefooted. You glance into each room you pass by, but not a single sign of the soldier was anywhere to be found.

You stopped when you stood in front of one specific lounge room; yours and James' favorite lounge room.

Lurking into the room, you glanced around.

The room looked exactly like how it did days before when you were still conscious. There are a few mugs strewn about. Most empty, conjoined in one area of the table (James' area), but there's one that's filled with your favorite drink. A drink that you don't remember making for yourself.

And it's placed right in front of your favorite chair, too. Something squeezes at your heartstrings as you couldn't help but smile fondly.

It's gone cold, you absently note as you dip a finger into it. Wiping your finger on your pants, you grabbed it and the rest of the empty cups, making a note to place them into the dishwasher when you make it into the kitchen.

"James?"

You called out, but only your voice echoed back. The cups quietly rattled with each step, and it's not long before you make it into the kitchen. It, too, looks the same, but there's a thin layer of dust only a clean freak would notice. The sink is empty and clear of any beads of water. Unused for a little bit, you concluded.

Yeesh.

You placed all of the cups into the dishwasher, which was also dry and empty as well. Sighing, you turned on the machine and jumped out of your skin when you felt a pair of built arms wrap themselves around you tightly.

It only takes a split second for you to realize that, no, this is not some ax murderer that's about to choke the life out of you, it's just James.

James who, apparently, is holding you flush against his chest, fingers curling themselves against your bandaged abdomen. You held back a wince of pain, careful not to make your breathing waver, as James nuzzle his whole head against the crook of your neck. 

(Honestly, for someone named the Winter Soldier, he sure is warm because whew, boy-)

"Ja-"

"I thought you were gone."

His name is caught in your throat as James' voice- gritty, deep, unused- rumbles into your skin. You freeze, unsure of what to say to that as you shuddered, suddenly breathless as he mouths at your neck. Your ears turn bright red as he takes that moment to speak up, not once letting up on his fingers ghosting a trail on each muscle on your abdomen.

"You were gone. One second you were in my arms, and the next... The next, DAHLIA's tellin' me you're in a damn coma."

You winced, not sure how to respond to both what he said or the growl that accompanied it. You looked up at the camera that was in a nearby corner and threw it a withering glance, feeling slightly betrayed by DAHLIA for telling James that.

Thankfully (or probably not), James isn't really looking for a response as he continues on.

"Моя звездная пыль (My stardust)," Russian slips out, bringing a chill up your spine as bits of Winter spills out from James' fingertips, "The witch got to you, didn't she?"

Goosebumps raised on your skin, and to your silence, James snarled. You can barely feel his teeth graze on your nape, and you really don't know if you should feel embarrassed or something else.

And wow, okay, maybe you should tell James to ease up on the "hug", because holy shit, his grip's getting tighter and it's starting to actually hurt.

(Ah, he might tear the stitches.)

"HYDRA сукa...! Я убью ее...!" (HYDRA bitch...! I'll kill her...!)

You huffed, still red in the face as he hasn't even nudged away from letting you go. You patted his forearm, signaling for him to loosen up his grip, and to his credit, he does. Barely, but it was still something. 

"I dunno what ya' just said in Russian, but I know what Hydra сукa means. No cussing in Russian, only in English."

He mumbles something incoherent into your shoulder, rubbing circles into your stomach with a tantalizingly slow speed. You coughed; in literally any other situation this would be one of the hottest things you've ever experienced, but considering that James was more Winter than James right now, and your stomach is literally burning in pain from the rubbing, you opted to ignore the fact that you really liked that James was this close and spoke up.

"Not to alarm you or anything, but uh, if you keep rubbing my stomach like that," your breath hitched, the pain starting to become a little too much, "I'm gonna pass out from the pain," you said, with clenched teeth.

(End of what I had written down. Anyways, not sure where I was gonna go from here.)

Ch. 17-20 are relatively short in terms of what I had written down.

Ch. 17 (Reconditioning) has 3 things typed down:

integrating the twins, thoughts of integrating bucky

supreme distrust between you and the twins

meanwhile maybe thoughts from twins abt you? you're around their age 

3rd bullet introduces the idea that they might be love interests. Maybe. Shrugs. That chapter would be heavier on the character developments of the twins, both as their own persons and their relationship with you, specifically. They don't like you because you're Tony's son, still some bitter feelings there, and you don't like them because... Well... there's just a lot of bad feelings. They helped kill J.A.R.V.I.S. in your original timeline. Wanda basically fucked off with Vision. She antagonized Tony. (And there is a hypocrisy there since I would've written you to have done the same thing there. (Name) isn't perfect.)

You just didn't get along with Pietro since, back when he wasn't dead, you were immature and not yet accustomed to dealing with people who're purposefully frustrating/ teasing/ mocking/ etc. Nothing really personal with him, it's Wanda that you had beef with. But you'll get over it one day.

Ch. 18 (Longstanding) is shorter.

you and james have a talk, and after a year or two being solitary, you agree that he should be in the avengers

he joins the avengers

That's it, that's the chapter.

Ch. 19 (Accountability) deals with newer Accords (not a Sokovian one! Just from the proposed need for accountability).

It goes better around this time, as basically all of the Avengers agree to it, with their own caveats of course. Steve especially, but of course, he's willing to work with the governments about it this time around. Also, Peter Parker gets introduced, in accordance with the "underaged enhanced/ superheroes" clause, or some bull like that.

Ch. 20 (Wakanda) is basically the intro to CA:CW but like, civilized. No bombing since Zemo still has his family. Introduces Wakanda, and T'Challa as a potential love interest. If you're interested in IronPanther, I highly recommend reading the IronPanther Collection by Okyverlo on AO3. It's great and got me a lot of interest in T'Challa as a love interest.

As for official chapters with the plot, that's about it. I wasn't sure what to do afterward.

There were some loose ideas I had about what would happen to (Name). Maybe the truth is revealed, that you're actually from the future, and Dr. Strange separates past and future you into two separate bodies. Future! you into your original future body, and past! you into the current body. Past! you still have the same memories and thoughts that future! you had, but with less angst. Future! you is noticeably more depressed and just a bummer. Lol.

And after that, 2023! you would go back to the future where you belonged, and Past! you would stay in the present since, duh, that's still Past! you's original timeline. It's a little confusing when I type it down haha.

I was thinking maybe 2023! you would pair up with Steve since you realized how burdensome it is to continue to resent someone. Now you understood what Tony meant.

And Past! you would definitely pair up with James, but maybe Steve too. A nice lil' polygamous relationship. 

Now here's the other, non-official chapters.

2 What If's, and 3 Specials, in the order they're listed at the moment.

What If (2013 Counterpart) plays with an initial idea I had, where Past! (Name) was actually sent into the future into 2023! (Name)'s body during the prologue. Not sure where I was gonna go with this chapter, but I really wanted to mess with that possibility, and show just how immature and teenager-y Past! you were.

What If (Swapped Places) plays with the idea that you and Tony, in the original timeline, had swapped places. You were on Titan with Spiderman, Dr. Strange, and the GOTG, while Tony was on Earth with everyone else. That's all I had planned. Maybe you actually won and managed to get the gauntlet off of Thanos when you realized that Peter Quill was about to go crazy over his ex's death, and you knocked him down in time.

Special (Find My Body, Only At The Oak Tree), deals with you and your depression over the reality that you might have to relive the blip again, and aside from the Avengers, you really don't have anyone else and nothing's worth really living for at this point. I actually have a lot written for this one. Not sure if I wanted this to be canon.

Trigger warning: suicidal tendencies.

(Below is the general idea I had for the plot.)

(names) birthdays across the years so far

we see slow mental deterioration of (name) as he aches

we see as we reach closer and closer to the deadline, (name) dreads even thinking about thanos and wants to die before even looking at him, a symbol of their failure 

lowkey highkey suicidal

___

The first time you celebrated your 17th birthday was in 2014. 

The second time you celebrated your 17th birthday was also in 2014... Obviously. 

The first time you celebrated your 17th birthday, the whole tower was flooded with people who you knew and people who you couldn't care to know. It was filled with what little was left of your friend group outside of the Avengers; it was also filled with the rich, the pompous, the irritating of New York.

You got into a yelling match with your dad that night, over something you couldn't even bother to remember, and stormed off into your room, fuming as the party still went on without their birthday boy present.

(It's always like that as if you're replaceable. Surely, you must be; the Avengers can and will, if need be, exist without you.)

The second time you celebrated your 17th birthday, you told your dad you wanted it to be small and personal. Only the Avengers were there, as a few days ago did you spend a pre-birthday celebration with some of your high school 'friends' (which only mainly consisted of playing Smash Bros Brawl in your room and eating an ungodly amount of junk food as you fake laughed along with their shitty jokes.) (Steve promptly made you burn those calories off in training.).

(What Steve doesn't know is that you purposefully ate that much to train with him; otherwise, you had the whole day off the next day.

You didn't want to be alone.)

It was sweet as everyone gave their gifts to you (which you already knew what it was, but said nothing of it), and as everyone got drunk off of the expensive liquor or Asgardian mead, you quietly snuck out of the building and back into the safe house where James was waiting for you.

(He waits, but how much of it is because he has no other choice?

It is not like that, you keep reminding yourself.

Who is to say, other than you?

James never says anything of it, and you start to wonder if he feels as if he has no choice.

As if he feels like he's been made another prisoner, once again.

At what point, what is separating the distinction between you and HYDRA, in his mind?

You're not too keen on finding out the answer anytime soon.)

The whole way there, you thought of nothing in particular.

You quietly celebrated with him too, shared a few slices of cake he made just for you before you quietly said goodnight to him. He kissed you on the cheek, said a simple goodnight, and slipped away into his own bedroom.

Meanwhile, you spent the rest of the night drinking too much alcohol, alone, in the dark of your room, staring at nothing in particular, thinking about nothing in particular.

The next morning, you jokingly wished you had just died last night as you're bent over the toilet emptying your stomach contents.

___

The first time you celebrated your 18th birthday, you spent it outside in another country with your friends.

The second time you celebrated your 18th birthday party, you rented out a bumper kart arena with the Avengers.

The first time you celebrated your 18th birthday, you tried desperately to hang onto the remaining friends you had outside of the Avengers, a chance to feel normal for once. You practically went hiking across Europe and into Asia over the week of your birthday, and by God did you visit so many places. From the Louvre to the casinos in New Deli, you trekked everywhere with your friends and acted as a cash pig for their endeavors under the guise of celebrating your birthday. Least to say, you always got 'accidentally' blackout drunk on multiple occasions, oblivious to their actions.

Later you found out and cut them off instantly without another word. They didn't seem to notice that you stopped talking to them.

It hurt.

Pointless of you to try to maintain that friendship.

So on your next 18th birthday, having long forgone those friendships ages ago, you suggested going bumper karting with the Avengers. Bruce operated as the 'coach' of sorts, but he seemed to have enjoyed it as well. 

It was fun, obviously.

It went on for a few hours, as you all had made up mini-games to play along with as they got bored of chasing after each other aimlessly for half an hour. A few games had you pairing up with some of the Avengers; the other had them actually using their skills to try to maim each other.

(Wanda at one point lifted everyone into the air as Pietro zoomed through the rink; though, he did slip and slam into the wall. Everyone laughed, but it was interrupted as Wanda promptly dropped everyone out of shock.

Everyone was too busy in their own shock as well to notice your labored breathes, wild crazed eyes, or how you clawed viciously at your throat at the sight of Wanda's red wisps. Your fingers were tinted a sick vermilion.

Thankfully, the arena was relatively dim, so no one could tell what just happened.)

It was fun. Everyone didn't hold their shoves back, and when things riled up, it turned into who would break a bone first. No one did, but everyone was definitely sore afterward. Of course, the enhanced ones didn't limp as much, but it made your limp nothing out of the ordinary.

(You tried your most damn not to just collapse completely, both exhaustion and pain threatening to snap your spine into little bits and pieces.

You jokingly wished it did.)

Thankfully, during the whole ordeal, no one noticed how you didn't avoid obvious hits, instead opting to just get harshly jostled in your kart and neck snapped haphazardly to the side at the sudden jolt. Or how you 'accidentally' keep forgetting to put on your seat belt or keep your fingers inside the kart.

Or at least, if they noticed, no one said anything as you limped around the tower the next day, bruises marred everywhere on your skin, a sheen of sweat blanketed on your skin throughout the whole day.

___

The first time you celebrated your 19th birthday, you were too swamped with both college and SI to actually... Celebrate.

You didn't even realize it was your birthday. No one did, actually; it took one of your professors to comment on how your name was trending on Twitter to actually get you to realize what the day was.

But even that didn't change your schedule, and as you moved on with your day, so did Twitter and the Avengers. 

You never got to celebrate your 19th birthday, too swamped with other things to care.

The second time you celebrated your 19th birthday, you had too much free time in the world.

It ended up being just like your 17th. The Avengers had a little get-together (they remembered this time; what made it so different?) and all of them got drunk wildly off their asses. Once again, you slipped away from the main lounge, and stalked silently, blank-faced, towards a balcony.

You adjusted your collar appropriately and stood there. You stared outside into the bustling busy streets of New York, the city that never sleeps.

(Strange, that it's named that when often times it's the quietest whenever you're there to see it.)

You spend maybe 10 minutes standing there, staring into the oblivion that is New York.

And then, you climbed onto the railings.

Standing there, there was no rush of adrenaline that coursed its way through your veins, nor was there any fear or dread.

Only an overwhelming and crippling exhaustion that made waves through your body. No longer are you in your 19-year-old body, but your 27th. No longer are you in your younger, former self; one that shone brightly above the others, aspiring as both a heroic figure and one that would help pave the way towards a better, peaceful world.

No, instead, your soul feels like it's settled deep into your bones, an aching tire that keeps rocking and rattling at your already fractured, beaten down body, laughing at how pathetic you look.

(You're so tired.

You just wanted to live normally.

You never can, you eventually come to realize on your first 24th birthday.

That thought, now fully realized, would come to permeate it's way deep into your bones.)

All you wanted to do was to just take one step forward, off of the railing that you're so delicately balanced upon, and dive into air headfirst.

Really, all it takes is just one step.

And truly, you've never felt more at peace as your body dropped from the railings, descended quickly towards the streets below you.

What should've been a quick few seconds of a dive felt like an eternity drowning in a bottomless pool. The lights of New York flashed and beamed at you, but it changed rapidly from one to another. Your throat closes, shuttering, and you want so desperately to start screaming.

Only, no one would hear them. 

The winds would carry away your screams, rushing a sound of its own that would overpower yours.

You wonder, absently, was this similar to what Rhodey felt that day? 

Well.

You'd never really find out, now, will you?

Too late to ask.

(There's no way to get back home.

You can never see Morgan again- the Morgan that called you her big Care Bear, the Morgan that cried and threw a temper tantrum because you forgot to give her a goodnight kiss. 

You can never see mom and dad again- while they're still here, it's just not the same. You'll never get to see the same Pepper who was so relieved just to see you alive after the Battle of Wakanda, even if you were practically on your death bed. You'll never get to see the same Tony who you spent hours crying into the shoulder of after the Blip.

You can never see the same Steve, Natasha, Rhodey, anyone, ever again. 

Years spent just trying to be better, to help the world, to mend and build any relationships you could, gone.

And even if they weren't?

There's just no way to get back home anymore. Not back to the person you used to be.)

The next day, you got an earful from your parents when photos of your falling body appear all over the internet. All the meanwhile, you're not really listening to them, just staring right back at them.

Odd.

('When did you start looking at me with contempt?', you'd ask one day.

Tony just stares at you, then out the window. In his hand, he's holding a cup of coffee; in yours, water. You've since stopped drinking anything remotely sugary, caffeinated, or alcoholic, though you've never told anyone why.

'When did you start mistaking concern with contempt.', he responded, though it was more of a statement rather than a question.

You stared at him, then followed his gaze out the window. 

Neither of you says anything, even as the hours go by in the blink of an eye.)

(That's all I had written down so far. Not sure where I wanted to go with this afterwards.)

Special (Vapidity, Testament To Absence) deals with future DAHLIA realizing what it means to mourn someone.

The house is empty.

It is an irrelevant thought, DAHLIA notes.

Technically speaking, the house has been empty quite often than not; after all, you were a busy man with an equally busy schedule. Being the CEO of SI and a huge contributing factor to the world's rebuilding made it more or less impossible for you to stay at home for long. Though, she also doesn't linger long in the house, either. But she's still there regardless, even if she's also with you on the other side of the planet for diplomatic reasons.

She knows of the emptiness inside this house; it was never an unfamiliar concept.

But with this emptiness, she's never once associated loneliness with it either. 

It's a bit better when Virginia occasionally comes around to the house to do some maintenance. She might even bring along little Morgan with her.

("You keep saying she's a pest, but I know I sure as hell ain't the one that keeps shifting the TV to the kids' channels when she's around," you comment, not even taking your eyes off of the pan. DAHLIA says nothing towards your accusations, instead opting to tell you that you're burning your eggs.

You aren't, but she says nothing amidst your panic.)

A few others occasionally visit, too, much to DAHLIA's internal disapproval.

Rogers used to visit every day ever since she first noted the emptiness. His behavior was also peculiar. He'd prowl around the house, pausing here and there at random parts of the house. He'd often just... Stand there, seemingly looking at nothing for a long period, before jolting back and continue what he was doing. She's thankful that he hasn't noted her silence when he's around.

Often Banner would come along too, and he'd be talking quietly with Rogers. As of recently, they've stopped visiting though. Probably because of the recent news (that (Name) might still be alive, just lost in time), DAHLIA almost bitterly notes.

James ("Just call him Rhodey- literally no one calls him James nowadays." you laugh, eyes crinkling with amusement) visits too. He doesn't linger for long, but he makes sure to check up on DAHLIA, help tend to the flowers... She'd even dare say she wishes he'd visit more often.

Peter also visits here and there as well. He often comes with Morgan and Virginia, but there have been a few occasions where he's come here by himself. He'd spend most of his time in the garden, your favorite place. And when he's alone, she'd given him privacy out of respect, but even at a long distance, she can hear him talking by himself. He'd come back eyes red and swollen, but he's always smiling afterward.

A few others have visited too, but not as often as the others. Though, none of that really helps negate the emptiness she feels as she wordlessly navigates through a routine she devoted herself to after your disappearance.

And the final chapter, Special (Chemically Compromised) is basically a fluff filler with (Name) chaperoning Peter's field trip, inspired by an Instagram post.

Written in bits and pieces, unfinished. Not sure if I wanted it to be romantic (the name implies it in a nerdy way) or just a fun, platonic, "dude you're literally embarrassing me" way.

(Peter) "I can't believe you're doing this...!"

(Name) "What? What's wrong with this?"

Pan to (Name) dressing like he's a Typical, Normal Civilian Man, but it's clearly (Name) Stark, son of Tony Stark, and an Avenger.

(Peter) "I don't need you to chaperone my field trip...! May could've done this-"

(Name) "No, she really couldn't, sweetheart. She's got a busy shift, and even told me that no one else's parents was free."

(Name) "Listen- this really could have gone worse if, say, Tony, knew. God knows Tony would've dropped everythin' and just embarrass ya- he did that shit to me every chance he got," Peter winces, almost forgetting that Tony was still your dad, and a chill ran up his spine as he imagined what it would have been like for you. 

(Peter) "But still..."

(Name) "Don't worry, I'll just wear a cap and sunglasses."

(Peter) "That can't possibly work."

(Name) "You'd be surprised- Sam's standin' down there, right near that phone booth."

Peter's head snapped over to where you were pointing at, and indeed, right on the floors of the Manhattan streets, there was a relatively built black guy that's wearing a cap, sunglasses, and a brown leather jacket. Peter tilted his head.

He hasn't been around Sam all that much, but he still knows what the Avenger looked like. But even then, he wasn't sure if that man was actually Sam. He's built right, but Peter can't see much of his hair or eyes. Plus, he's kind of far away.

He squinted at the man, before glancing back at you, now unsure of himself.

(Peter) "That's really the Falcon?"

You stared at him, before snorting.

(Name) "Nah, I'm joshin' ya, that's just some random guy...", you glance at the man, sniffing, "... Probably."

That's... pretty much it. That's all I had for Restart, as far as writing goes.

Now here are some closing thoughts, just to wrap all of this up nice and tight, sort of.

I'm not really happy with how the initial chapters were paced and how they were written. My writing style has mildly changed, and if I had the motivation to, I'd love to rewrite them. But alas, I don't.

I think about this story often; or at least, variations of it. It's like when you daydream, and you restart it but to the left. But unfortunately, writing a plot without too many plot holes while remaining as canonically correct as possible, and making it interesting without being a complete word-by-word remake of the movies, is difficult.

I'm not sure if I would ever pick up this story again, especially since this whole chapter told you what I had in store anyways. 

Thank you to those who took the time out of their day to write nice and encouraging comments about this story. It's unfortunate it had to end this way, but I'm glad it happened anyways. And hopefully, it's the same for you.

And remember: the one thing writers love to do is talk about their story! If you have any other comments, questions, or just general thoughts about the story, I'd love to discuss it further!

Anyways. If you're reading this now, thanks for sticking with Restart for as long as you did.

_____

Masterlist

_____

I know I had people on the tagged list, but it’s a bit hard to get them all as URL’s change, so I opted not to. Sorry!

[doctorfoxtor]

post ain't long it's wrong, can't study till dawn? yawn

100 days of productivity

day 44 + 45

CVS/RS

rheumatoid pleural effusions closely mimic complicated parapneumonic effusion on analysis, w/ ph <7.2, marked ↑LDH and notably glucose <30 (in fact glucose >30 almost rules out rheumatoid effusion)

in afib, digoxin will slow ventricular rate but is unlikely to cardiovert the rhythm

itraconazole in ABPA causes a 50% reduction in steroid dose and 25% reduction in anti-aspergillus IgE, and either partial or complete resolution of CXR infiltrates or improvement in PFTs/exercise tolerance

TRALI can happen as early as 15 minutes into the transfusion apparently?????

mesothelioma is an abject death sentence. The most you can do for patients beyond stage 1 is chemotherapy (limited survival benefit with platinics), radiotherapy to biopsy/thoracoscopy tracts only and surgery (lung-sparing debulking ± pleurodesis for recurrent effusions; radical surgery has shown no survival benefit)

mild tachy + broad qRs in haemodynamically stable pt s/p PCI for MI → likely to be LBBB developing; watch and wait

CNS/Ophthal/Psych

PSP looks similar to parkinson's bc it affects the opposite pathway as parkinsons (striatonigral vs nigrostriatal)

the best response you can get from deep brain stimulation for parkinsons = the best response you got from medication; DBS will NOT add a greater response compared to maximum medical therapy

without any other information, parkinson's ssx w/ dementia WITHIN 1 year of onset, it's Lewy body dementia; if it's more than 1 year, it's parkinson's w/ 2° dementia

choroidal neovascularisation with NO OTHER fundal signs: wet mac degen > diabetic retinopathy

focal dystonias are better treated with botox than with medication

SAH is unlikely to cause cranial nerve palsies other than III and maybe VI; pituitary apoplexy presents similarly with very severe headache/projectile vomiting/AMS, while affecting nerves III, IV, V-1 and VI

MS relapse: 500 mg PO or 1 g IV methylpred x5 days

there is no difference in risk of progression to Korsakoff when Wernicke is treated w/ glucose first vs w/ thiamine first

Endocrine/Repro

hyperaldosteronism: hyperplasia > adenoma

acute alcohol consumption can trigger hypoglycaemic events as the liver uses up NAD+ for each step of the alcohol detox pathway, where NAD+ is an important cofactor for the malate-oxalate shuttle used in gluconeogenesis

cinacalcet's major indication is hyperparathyroidism taht can't be corrected w/ surgery (eg, unfit pts)

Rheum/Derm/Immuno

topical steroid potency: hydrocortisone < clobetasol butyrate, betamethasone valerate low-dose < betamethasone valerate high-dose, fluticasone propionate < clobetasol propionate

onycholysis: trauma, tinea (infections), thyrotoxicosis, tetracyclines

pseudoxanthoma elasticum is assoc w/ mitral prolapse, renovascular htn, PVD, CAD, GIT bleeds and retinal vessel abnormalities

IgE values are normally distributed, so about 2.5% of the pop has raised IgE and 2.5% has reduced

s/p parathyroidectomy → acute drop in PTH → bones that are used to high levels of PTH experience a relative hypoPTHism → ↑blastic ↓clastic activity → acute bony uptake of calcium, PO4 and importantly magnesium = hungry bone syndrome (replace calcium and magnesium!)

carpal tunnel pain can radiate retrogradely to the forearm and sometimes even the arm

periarticular osteoporosis → RA

punched out erosions in juxtaarticular bone → gout

GIT

Peutz-Jeghers: small bowel hamartomas → intussusception, colorectal cancer, pigmented lesions (classically perioral/mucosal, but also palms/soles)

pernicious anaemia: parietal cell Abs (common) > intrinsic factor Abs (specific)

haemochromatosis: venesection → keep ferritin <50 and transferrin sat <50%

passing stools frequently, elevated inflammatory markers, ↑faecal calprotectin, PPI but not in demographic for IBD → take a colonoscopy and biopsy, this is probably microscopic colitis (and PPIs can trigger at any age)

liver biopsy is not indicated for Gilbert's—it is sufficient to do routine CBCs/LFTs w/ bilirubin analysis

pancreolauryl (fluorescein dilaurate) is quite nonspecific and will not pinpoint the exact pancreatic disease

hep A can be precided by short diarrhoeal illness`

in an IBD (esp UC) pt who comes >10 yrs after initial symptoms with recent change in bowel habits, offer urgent colonoscopy to r/o ca colon BEFORE starting on treatment

Onc/Haem

MTX + antifolate antibiotics: makes sense not to give them together—they can cause fulminant marrow failure

leukaemia can very rarely lead to acute painful scrotal swelling

5q- syndrome = myelodysplasia, but with thrombocytosis; diff from essential thrombocythaemia by anaemia with normal reticulocyte count and leukopaenia in the former

radiotherapy is a primary modality of tx in retinal, CNS, skin, oesophageal, cervical, vaginal and prostatic tumours; it is adjuvant in all other tumours

the commonest presentations of CMV s/p txp are pneumonia or pulmonary infiltrates

Renal/Biochem

SIADH causing drugs - SIADH Causes Poor Voiding: Sedatives (barbiturates), Indomethacin (NSAIDs), Antidepressants (TCAs/SSRIs), thiazide Diuretics, 1st gen antiHistamines, Cyclophosphamide/antiConvulsants, 1st gen antiPsychotics, Vinca alkaloids

malaria: irreversible nephrosis (esp memb or FSGS) > nephritis

2° syphilis: reversible nephritis > nephrosis

even if the patient doesn't qualify for ACEis/ARBs for HTN, give them first-line anyway if concomitant renal disease

kidney size difference >1 cm is significant

for drugs that will be dialysed out on dialysis days, dose them immediately after dialysis on those days

only urge incontinence is not primarily managed with pelvic floor exercises

Pharm/Toxo

valproate ADRs - VALPROATE: Vomiting, Alopecia/Anorexia, Liver tox, Pancreatitis/PCOS, Redistributed fat (weight gain/lipodystrophy), Oedema, hyperAmmonaemia/Ataxia, Tremor/Thrombocytopaenia, Enzyme inhibitor

opioid withdrawal: methadone is the best single tx and avoids needing to give multiple drugs to cover ssx (eg, clonidine + dextromethorphan + loperamide)

aminoglycosides preferentially affect proximal tubular cells

the classic pattern of symptoms in both cotton workers and workers at factories that process nitrates is that of 'Monday disease'

toxicities for which measuring the blood levels is indicated - SLIME TiPP: Salicylates, Lithium, Iron, Methanol, Ethylene glycol, Theophylline, Paraquat, Paracetamol

amphetamine tox → hyponatraemia due to water retention, worsened by the excessive thirst; hyperkalaemia → rhabdo; hypokalaemia not seen because amphetamines tho sympathetomimetic do not have affinity for the β2 receptor like cocaine does

[firstdegreefangirl]

OK, I have no idea what happened to it ((my guess is that the blue hellsite decided it was snacktime and ate the thing)), but ages ago, @kitkat0723 sent me an ask prompting the following: 

May I pleaseeeeee request #11 back hugs and #15 The biggest warmest hugs 

This is my fill for that, in this text post, because Tumblr disappeared the ask when I tried to save it in my drafts. Who knows? Anyway, it got much longer than intended, but I'm chalking that up to that it's technically two prompts, one fic. Heads up, there’s some frustratedDad!Eddie in here. Everything is all good by the end, and it’s nothing too severe, but if that’s not your kinda thing, no hard feelings. Other than that, enjoy!

Eddie’s staring at his hands, wrapped so tightly around the edge of the kitchen counter that he can see his knuckles turning white. His back is strained, muscles pulled taut against the effort it takes to support his head right now. When he flexes his fingers, it’s like he can feel the bones scraping together, hear the grinding echoing in his head.

It’s like a garbage disposal, sucking his thoughts down into its spinning blades. Except that the thoughts don’t go anywhere, and he’s still stuck thinking them.

He’s the worst dad in the world, and his kid doesn’t even have a mom to go running toward.

He can’t believe himself, yelling at Chris, sending him to his room without dessert just because he copped an attitude about his math homework.

(Actually, he did that because Chris kept rolling his eyes and calling his teacher a ‘stupid jerkface.’ Eddie met her at conferences; he might not be wrong, but that doesn’t mean it’s OK to say it out loud. Especially when Eddie told him more than once to stop.)

But it’s been a long day, for both of them. Eddie’s coming fresh off of an 18-hour shift, and apparently Chris had a pop quiz in social studies he wasn’t prepared for. So tensions were already running high before Buck cleared the pizza boxes away, turning the kitchen table into a makeshift classroom. (And honestly, what would any of them do without Buck, swooping in with delivery dinner to take at least one thing off of Eddie’s to-do list?)

Then Eddie had spent 45 minutes trying to remember how to divide fractions. Every time he’d tried to suggest something – anything at all, from “let’s look in your textbook” to “I think you flip one of them upside down – he'd been met with a long-suffering sigh and an eye-roll that would make Anderson Cooper proud.

“Why do I have to do this anyway? Math is stupid, and my teacher is stupid, and I’m stupid, and all of it’s stupid!” Chris would shout, or some variation thereof.

And eventually, Eddie had had enough. Enough of trying to rationalize through it. Enough of Buck looking at him helplessly and shrugging his shoulders because he’s no more useful with fractions than Eddie is. Enough of Chris’ high-pitched whine, the way he flopped back in his chair and groaned. Enough reminding him to use his words, that he’s a smart kid, that they’ll get through this together.

Enough of all of it.

“Fine, you don’t want to do your homework? That’s fine!” Eddie had shouted, pushing his chair back from the table with enough force to wobble it onto two legs. “But if you’re not going to work on this, then you can go put your pajamas on and brush your teeth. No TV and no ice cream until your worksheets are done, I don’t care how long it’s going to take. I’m not doing this with you all night, go to your room!”

Chris had stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock, before thinking better of it and running off. The sound of his crutches echoing was enough to shake Eddie from his stupor, but when he’d looked at Buck, who was already looking back, concern etched across his face, he’d snapped again.

“I can’t sit there all night and watch him stare at a piece of paper. I don’t want to hear it from you either, OK? Just …” Buck’s eyebrows had pushed closer together, and the anger bled out of Eddie again. His voice cracked as he continued. “Just give me a minute, OK? Please?”

Then he’d pushed past Buck to go stare out the kitchen window, before he could say anything else to hurt someone he loves.

Which brought him to now, clinging to the countertop like the world might swallow him whole if he lets go. Honestly, he’d probably deserve it, for raising his voice at his son and at his boyfriend, all in one breath.

He exhales shakily, screwing his eyes shut against the tears that are threatening to burn hot, salty tracks down his face.

He’s the worst dad in the world, and he sent his kid to his room, and Buck probably left too, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

But he can’t give in to the anger, can’t let it take over the definition of his day. He remembers Frank saying something about that, how it’s maybe not a bad day, just a bad moment that he’s milking all day. And he doesn’t want to do that, especially not where Chris is involved. So he takes another deep breath, and a few more after that.

He’s still breathing slowly, counting every second of air in and out of his lungs, when he feels a heavy, sold weight drape across his back.

He relaxes into the contact, knows who it is before Buck can even slide his arms around Eddie’s waist. Buck holds him tightly, crouches down far enough to bury his face in Eddie’s neck, waits patiently for their breathing to even out until they’re sharing the same rhythm.

Buck stands there, holding him tightly and long enough that Eddie doesn't feel like the world is going to beat him anymore. He holds Eddie until he feels strong enough to let go of the counter with one hand and wrap his fingers around Buck’s where they’re pressing into his stomach. His wrist won’t turn far enough to tangle their fingers together, but Buck lets Eddie hold onto his hand, squeezes back as best as he can when Eddie tightens his grip.

And after a long moment, when Eddie finally turns himself around in Buck’s arms, Buck is still there. He’s there for Eddie to cling to, adjusts his grasp so Eddie can get his hands high enough to wrap around Buck’s shoulders and fist in the back of his T-shirt. He’s there for Eddie to bury his face against Buck’s chest and let out one last long, shuddery sigh.

And he’s there when Eddie leans back, just far enough to see Buck’s face when he opens his mouth.

“Buck, I--”

“It's alright, I know, you’ve had a long day. No hard--” Eddie cuts him off, before he can supply the word “feelings.”

“It’s not. It’s not alright. I overreacted, and I lashed out, and I’m sorry.” Eddie sighs and leans his forehead back against Buck’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have … I was out of line. You didn’t deserve that. You haven’t done anything tonight but try to help – and you have helped. I don’t know how I’d have gotten through tonight without you. Even if I screwed up royally.”

“You didn’t ‘screw up royally.’” Buck runs his hand up and down Eddie’s back, a hundred times more gentle than he deserves tonight. “You got frustrated, you snapped a little bit, but you backed off before you went too far. Eddie, babe, it happens. Trust me, from having parents who did screw up in a million different ways, I seriously doubt Chris is going to be talking about this in therapy in 20 years.”

“Oh god, Chris.” Eddie rears back again, dropping his hands to Buck’s sides, but not letting go of him. “I … I yelled at him and took away his dessert. Over math homework.”

“Over his attitude toward math homework.” But Buck’s words fall on deaf ears.

“He called himself stupid, and I yelled at him.”

“Eddie, hey.” Buck squeezes Eddie’s bicep gently until he can bring himself to make eye contact. “He’s doing good. I went back and talked with him, helped him get ready for bed. No progress on the math homework, but he’s jammied, and his teeth are brushed, and last I looked, he was working on the latest Captain Underpants book. He was a little worried that you were upset with him, but we talked, and he knows you had a long day, and he was being difficult and --”

“He’s not a difficult kid.” He’s not, truly, and Eddie had long ago promised himself that he’d never make Chris feel like he is.

“Maybe not, but even good kids have their moments. He knows that it’s not his fault, and that we both still love him very much. And you know what?” Eddie hums, but doesn’t say anything. “He asked me to come see if you were OK. ‘Dad must have had a really bad day,’ he said. ‘I think he might need some help with it, but I should stay in here, so I don’t get in trouble again.’”

Eddie sniffles, tears in his eyes for an entirely new reason now. Even after all of the mistakes he’s made – not just tonight, but especially now – he's still got such a sweet kid, with so much empathy, and the biggest heart of anyone he’s ever met. How many 11-year-olds would get yelled at and immediately want to make sure their dads are OK?

He doesn’t know for sure, but he’s willing to be that the number isn’t large.

“I should go talk to him,” Eddie sighs, finally stepping back far enough that he has to let go of Buck.

“I think he’d like that. Want some support?”

Eddie thinks for a moment, then nods. He doesn't know how he’d have gotten through this much of tonight without Buck, and he really doesn’t want to do the next part by himself either. He leads the way down the hall, but Buck catches his hand along the way. This time, their fingers fit together perfectly.

He stops at the doorway to Chris’ room, takes a second to look at his son, lying on top of the covers with his knees bent up to balance his book. He’s completely oblivious to the audience until Eddie knocks gently on the doorframe.

“Hey, Chris,” he starts, then realizes he doesn’t know where the sentence was meant to be going.

“Dad!” Chris sits up and grins. He grins, and Eddie’s heart swells. “Buck said you had a bad day. Do you need a hug?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, stepping forward until he can sit on the edge of the mattress. “Yeah, I think I do.”

The next thing he knows, Chris is all but launching himself at Eddie’s lap. He flings his arms around his dad’s neck and holds on tight. By the time he’s done squirming, he’s situated himself on top of Eddie’s thighs, chin tucked underneath his head.

He’s almost too big to be held like this, but it doesn’t matter to either of them as Eddie hugs him right back. One hand lands on Chris’ head, ruffles through the thick curls for a moment before gently tugging him back by the shoulder.

“Hey, you know how I always talk about setting a good example for the people around you?” Chris nods hesitantly, like he’s not sure where the conversation is going. But Eddie does, and he knows that everything is going to be OK. He takes a deep breath and continues.

“Well, I need to do that too. And tonight, that means that I owe you an apology.”

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33-Epilogue

Neither Lucy nor Natsu sat through the closing arguments, but according to Gajeel the defense stood firmly on their case for insanity. Touka’s attorney argued that his client suffered from a disorder that should put her in a hospital for treatment, not a jail cell, and not only that, but the so-called victims in the case drove her to do what she did. It was a very risky move to blame the victims. Of course, the prosecution countered that not only did Touka not suffer from any condition but that this was a simple case of jealousy gone wrong. Natsu and Lucy were innocent victims of a selfish woman who tried to kill them. Period, and for that she should go to prison for the maximum sentence allowed.

The prosecutor implored to the jurors heartstrings. “You saw the effects that Ms. Shiromajyo caused to her victims. The tears shed on the stand and the genuine fear in Ms. Heartfilia’s testimony as she recounted the events in question. Ladies and gentlemen, this young woman stared death in the face and watched her boyfriend almost get killed by the defendant. They had to fight to survive! Ms. Heartfilia and Mr. Dragneel have experienced something that no one should ever go through.” He gestured at the timeline board facing them. “Ms. Shiromajyo stalked multiple people over the course of several years to reach her goal, intimidating people that really had nothing to do with her. Ms. Shiromajyo paid a person to kill Ms. Strauss, threatening and intimidating her. And most of all, ultimately took this whole situation into her own hands when all of her efforts didn’t work out. She is a danger to society. I urge you, the jury to give her victims the peace of mind that she’ll be off the streets in a cell getting the treatment that she needs, and the punishment she deserves.”

It was a nerve wracking time for the victims as they waited outside of the court room for the jury to deliberate. Lucy and Natsu stayed in a side room with the prosecutor along with their closest friends and family there to support them. The prosecutor assured them that they’d done their best and the odds were in their favor. But of course, it only took one hold out to cause a mistrial, and Lucy didn’t know if she could go through this again. She was already unhappy that even if convicted, Japan’s sentencing structures were not as stringent as other countries.

The jury deliberated for four hours before reaching a verdict pronouncing Touka guilty of all charges. Upon hearing the guilty decision, Lucy and Natsu slipped back into the court room to hear the final disposition.

“Rise Ms. Shiromajyo.” The judge then read the decision to the standing defendant. “You have been found guilty by this court of two counts of attempted murder that caused injury. One count of kidnapping for profit. And three counts of intimidation. Do you have any last statement to make to the court before I render sentencing?”

Touka hung her head as if resigned to her fate. “Yes...” Surprisingly, to all those in the courtroom, she apologized for her actions. “I see now how much pain I caused to everyone because I couldn’t control myself and I hope one day they’ll forgive me for it.”

But her words of contrition were too little, too late. The judge sentenced Touka to the maximum of the highest offense, which was 15 years with work, but instead of the work condition, imposed a special circumstance that Touka be ordered to undergo mandatory psychological treatment while in custody and to adhere to any treatments and medications prescribed for her own good.

“Ms. Shiromajyo,” the judge spoke directly to the woman. “You’ve apologized at the end, but I hope you truly feel that way. Based on all of the evidence presented in court, your actions were clearly towards a one-sided love affair with a man who wanted nothing to do with you, and for that you tried to punish an innocent woman who got in your way. I do not believe, and the jury agreed, that you do not suffer from a legal defense of mental defect, however you should spend the time in prison to get your mind right again, so that when you re-enter society in the future, you’ll no longer suffer from whatever emotional problems brought you here in the first place. You are very lucky that I cannot under the law sentence you to concurrent sentences for every single charge. Bailiff, take custody of the prisoner. This case is adjourned.”

As the final gavel bang echoed in the court room, Natsu and Lucy who’d made it in time to hear it all, broke down in tears and elation as the court room erupted in cheers around them. A rarity for the poised population. This case was certainly anything but common for Japan, especially because the perpetrator was a woman and journalists had kept the public up to date with its progress. A lot of people were affected by this case personally, but the fear of what Touka had done rang cold for onlookers too. For the public, the idea that someone you may know could harbor ill will and do something this heinous was a scary proposition.

While the case was now over, Lucy knew her own struggles with anxiety were not, despite the tiny relief she’d felt in hearing the words guilty. She’d made it through the trial by sheer determination, but the experience had set her back in her progress. Reliving all the worst events and being grilled by the defense had re-traumatized her. Not all the way regressed, but the nightmares were back anew, starting immediately after her recall testimony.

It wasn’t just the old memories that haunted Lucy, but a new, troubling thought brought out during that testimony. When the defense attorney tried to make her think she was just as bad as Touka, there was a point when she thought... was it true? And the more she pondered, the worst the correlation became despite her loved ones conviction that she was nothing like the woman. Because... why not? If Touka’s deluded mind really believed she was protecting what was hers, well isn’t that the same logic Lucy used to defend herself and Natsu? Then there was the rage she’d felt. Was the attorney, right? If Natsu hadn’t stopped her from beating the woman, would she have killed Touka? Did that mean she had a killer instinct too?

All the publicity surrounding the trial didn’t help one bit. Just trying to get out of the court room after the verdict had been a complete circus of cameras flashing and microphones being shoved in the couples faces wanting their opinions of the verdict. Oh, how Lucy wanted to scream in their faces! How do they think they’d feel?! Yes, it felt great to be vindicated, but 15 years for almost killing them? Where were their assurances that when Touka was released, she wouldn’t pick right back up where she’d left off and hunt them down?

All these irrational thoughts fueling the new regression were different from before. Lucy didn’t feel as anxious. She was a little depressed, but now she was also— angry.

When she arrived at her therapy session without Natsu, Lucy sat on the couch facing the woman with her arms crossed. The therapist was quick to note the way in which she was holding her poise because it wasn’t a comforting arm cross, but a firm one. The muscles in her forearms were tense along with the tight lipped and brows furrowed expression gracing Lucy’s face.

“Well, this is certainly new,” the woman put her notebook down as she spoke. “Something has changed, shall we talk about it?”

Lucy’s hands clenched firmly as her eyes look away slightly. “I had a small argument with Natsu this morning.”

“I get the impression it wasn’t small.”

“Okay! It was a big fight! Happy?!” Lucy’s arms unfurled and gesticulated. “I don’t even know why it got out of hand, but it did.”

“Tell me what happened and let’s figure it out together.”

“Tch,” Lucy crossed her arms again and looked away. “I woke up from a nightmare. He started comforting me like he al—ways does, and I told him to stop. But he didn’t.”

“Why’d you tell him to stop?”

“I don’t know... I was just, irritated.”

“With him?”

“Yes... No— both, I don’t fucking know! Just pissed off, okay?! I was just angry and didn’t wanna be bothered!”

“I see... and how did Natsu react?”

“He, well, um,” Lucy’s shoulders dropped a bit. “He just said okay, I’ll give you space if you want it and left the bedroom. And we haven’t spoken since then.”

“It sounds like Natsu respected your wishes to back off. But why is that making you so angry?”

The therapists question brought instant tears pooling in Lucy’s eyes. She knew why, but she didn’t know why, and holding it in was tearing her apart. But she also didn’t know how to articulate all of the random thoughts plaguing her in a way that made sense. So, at that moment she just broke. Through fitful sobs the cacophony of broken, fragmented thoughts spewed out in no logical manner. Lucy just spoke every word and sentence that came to mind as the therapist sat quietly listening.

This was her first session since the trial had ended, so all of the wounds were painfully fresh. Shouldn’t she be happy it was over? They were free for now and it was time to move forward but all she could think about were the things the attorney had said. And that made her angry with herself. Lucy’s always thought she was so much stronger, yet this experience or rather the effects left her feeling lost and broken, and weak. Even more infuriating for her, she knew these thoughts were completely irrational! It’s one thing to not understand, it’s another to know how stupid it sounded and not be able to fight back against it. Weak. That’s what it made her feel. Stupid and weak for losing herself. They may have won against Touka, but Touka had taken something away and Lucy feared she’d lost it forever.

Who she was.

The therapist moved over to the couch and hugged tightly to a sobbing Lucy, stroking her hair and cradling her head. Comforting in silence allowed the blonde to just cry, as hard as she needed to and release everything that had been held inside where it shouldn’t stay. When the tears slowed, and Lucy’s breathing had the normalized, the therapist spoke softly.

“You’re not broken, Lucy, and you’re not dumb. You’re rightfully in pain after everything you’ve experienced, and that’s okay too.”

“How is that okay?” Lucy sniffled. “It shouldn’t be okay!”

“It’s not fair what you had to endure but being upset and feeling pain because of it means you’re human. Even the anger is a good feeling right now.”

Lucy snorts an annoyed laugh at such a ridiculous sounding statement. Anger being, okay?!

“There are positives we can take from this.”

Again, Lucy huffs. “Yeah, right. That makes a lot of sense.”

The therapist pulls back and settles into a more professional pose to continue. “Your anger means you care. Think about it, if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t get angry, right?”

“I guess...”

“In all these months, this is the first time I am seeing a deep passion coming from you. Lucy you aren’t really lost, and this anger are those feelings screaming ‘I’m still here!’ You can use that same energy to push forward.”

“But what about Natsu?” Lucy’s eyes cloud up. “I think I really made him mad a-and I don’t want to lose him.”

“Did he come with you today?”

“Yeah, he’s in the waiting room.” Lucy mumbled through a frown. “But I think he just came cause he felt obligated.”

The therapists eyes softened along with her tone. “I have a feeling that’s not the case. He might feel hurt and confused right now, but I’m sure he still loves you deeply. Maybe we should bring him in here and talk things over? That way I can help you through it.”

Lucy paused for a moment before nodding weakly. “I’d like that.”

The therapist brought Natsu into the room and as soon as he saw the puffy red eyes and Lucy’s disheveled appearance immediately stumbled over and hugged onto her with tears of his own flowing down, apologizing over and over for upsetting her that morning.

Although Lucy stiffened up at first when he’d hugged her in fear of what he might say, his words instead stunned her. All along she’d felt the fight was her fault, not his. She’d been the bitch to him and now his pain brought her tears back along with a loss of her anger. “It’s not your fault,” she hugged him back. “I was angry with myself and took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

“But I shouldn’t have walked away like I did.”

“No,” Lucy exhaled, “you did the right thing. I... I needed something to wake me up.”

Natsu pulled back in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Lucy smiled weakly. “Coming here mad, I couldn’t hide it so she made me talk about it. Now I see how that needed that to happen and I feel a lot better because of it. I was just worried you’d hate me for the way I acted.”

“I could never hate you,” Natsu smiled and cupped Lucy’s cheeks. “I told you, you’re stuck with me.”

By that point, the therapist had gone back to her own chair and with the session almost over for that day, addressed the couple together. “Lucy right now I think you are at a very good point in your progress. Your anxiety had gotten better, the depression is still there, but it’s not as debilitating as it was before, so now it’s time to take the next step in the healing process. You’d mentioned wanting going back to school and the next semester starts in a month. Perhaps it’s time to consider going back?”

“I-I don’t know if I could handle full time...”

“Maybe reach out to the school and see if they’ll work with you on a modified schedule?”

“I guess I could...”

“And I’ll help you,” Natsu added on as he squeezed Lucy’s hand. “They’ve been really supportive so far.”

Lucy let out a long exhale. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

“I’ve got another suggestion too,” Natsu added. “If you get angry, you could take it out with a physical sport or something.”

“That’s actually a good outlet,” the therapist agreed. “Is there anything you’re interested in?”

“Um...” Lucy thought about for a couple minutes. “I thought about taking self-defense classes.”

“That would be cool! Maybe we can go together?”

“I’d really, really like that.” And first time in a long time, Lucy truly meant it.

[goose-books]

goose-books productions: a 2020 review

view the image in higher quality here! (open the image in a new tab to zoom in.) thank you to my dearest @yvesdot for the template

transcripts and month-by-month details under the cut! for reference, you can find my projects here :-) overall, new and old followers, thank you for another good year over here! [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your h

january

i spent late 2019-early 2020 working on 2019’s nano project, quark, aka the speculative fiction thing about new york city and prophets and dissections of the chosen one trope and gay people. quark is my second-oldest project (five years!), but it’s also probably the most ambitious, so it’s been... difficult to wrangle into place, and i didn’t end up finishing a first draft. oh, well.

enjoy a snippet that is devastatingly emblematic of everything about quark. the tone. the homoerotic tension. the ensemble cast all talking over each other. the fact that caelum has spent pretty much this entire scene crying. fun autopsy report meeting.

Marble stares at the notebook in Shade’s hands. Or maybe he’s staring at Shade’s hands. Dawn feels a little voyeuristic, so she does what she does and says a dumb and unrelated thing: “Augustus, I think this pizza-on-the-floor thing is hurting my ass.”

Augustus flutters his hands. “Sometimes nonconformity is painful.”

“At least we’re originals,” Caelum mumbles into his sleeve.

“Exactly,” Augustus says.

“True originality doesn’t exist,” Marble says.

“Oh,” Shade deadpans, “it’s going to be a fun autopsy report meeting.”

It isn’t.

february

in january i stressed myself out trying to make the plot of quark work. so in february, i decided to take some time and write something Entirely For Fun. like, entirely for fun, no rules. and. my god. how do i explain the project i started calling “third eye for the bad guy.”

it was an unholy mashup of many of my past hyperfixations, including the gone series, a tale of two cities, warrior cats, and the left hand of darkness. one of the characters was a canon scalie and one was a canon fictionkinnie. it centered around a polycule of wannabe-evil-overlord high schoolers. i only wrote like three chapters but i was lost in the sauce for all of february and then i just… like… wiped it from my mind and moved on? somehow??? one character was a werewolf and that literally wasn’t relevant at ALL

I.

Someone was going to die on these steps.

This had been Ivy Lee Palomo’s thought last year during the all-school photo, and it rose in her mind again now. The one hundred marble stairs leading up to the great double doors of Saint Constantine Academy were the school’s pride and glory, steep as the mountain, sharp as the blade under Ivy Lee’s skirt. With the cutting wind and snow glazing the stone more often than not, with the freshmen wild and wired on their first day of their first year, it was really only a matter of time before someone slipped and cracked their fucking head open.

It wasn’t going to be her. Not when she had Doc Martens and reflexes like an electric coil. Still. Ivy Lee didn’t want to watch someone die. She didn’t get along with dead people.

march

in march, i got back to the project i’d started in 2019 - AMT, my podcast! it’s a shakespeare retelling set in a modern high school; this excerpt is funnier and also more unnerving in context. (double, double, toil and trouble...)

INDRAJIT: What the hell are you doing?

[PAUSE.]

DEE (like she’s lying): Making pasta.

[ALL THREE OF THEM LAUGH.]

NONA: That’s right.

MORA: We have the keys to Mab’s office.

DEE: We’re using her stove.

NONA: To make pasta.

DEE: Do you want some?

[A TENSE PAUSE.]

INDRAJIT: No.

april

and darkling rears its head! all of my other projects have existed for at least a year; darkling (specfic king lear retelling) is... special. it was conceived in april, when i started hyperfixating on king lear, and i still managed to write an absolutely ridiculous amount of content for it. it was like the power of hyperfixation let me speedrun the entire process. which. okay.

iv: control

They say Cressida Stayer was nine years old when she turned her hair to gold. They laid her down in bed blonde, and the next morning, the waves cascading down her shoulders were solid metal, glinting harshly in the sunlight, weighing her down, creating that odd head-cocked expression she still wears now. Nine years old. Two or three years before most people develop enough magic skills to dye a single curl. Much less transfigure their hair into precious metal.

People also say Leovald Stayer’s immediate reaction was to hack it off her head and melt it down for cash. But generally they say that part a lot quieter.

may

in may i wrote AMT episode 15, by which i mean that in may there was a day when i sat in my room with the door shut for literally five straight hours listening to the same three songs on loop as i wrote the climax of one of the plotlines of AMT. so. that sure was… a day.

ISAAC: Do you want… do you want someone to drive you home? Hawk, you’re worrying me -

HAWK (almost cutting him off): Don’t. Don’t say that. I’m here to help. With your… thing.

ISAAC (quietly): I… don’t know if you should be here to see this.

HAWK (a little louder, more audibly upset): Well - what else am I going to do? Go home and - and have my dads talk at me and - and not be able to answer them? Because I can’t? I can’t. I don’t know what to say.

[PAUSE.]

ISAAC (V.O.): I wonder if this is what he feels like, on the outside, looking in at me. Watching someone else hurting. Helpless and afraid.

He still fits perfectly in my arms. I rest my chin on top of his head and pull him close to me, like I can stop him from shaking, like I can stop anything from happening the way I know it’s going to. I bury my face in his hair. He smells so familiar. He’s so warm.

God, Hawk. I love you so much. You shouldn’t be here to see this. Something bad’s gonna happen. And you’re not the kind of person who belongs in a tragedy.

june

okay, honestly, i should talk about “night shift” here, because in june i wrote a whole short story in one night (and then foamed over it for a week), but i am still in the process of submitting it places! so i am terrified to put even a sentence of it online. instead: the other thing i did this month was to finish AMT! (sixteen episodes and somewhere around 175k, iirc, but don’t quote me.) these lines are the opener to the final episode!

RAHMA (V.O.): The combined series of sophomore year disasters stretched through November. It’s June now. It’s taken me… a long time to get this all put together. I was going to make a vlog about it, initially - well, calling it a vlog sounds frivolous. I was going to make a video recounting the whole deal. All of it. From when I kissed Avery Fairchilde to the very last night. I scripted dozens of drafts; I put together dozens of bullet-pointed lists of what to cover… and it was never enough. Because Avery and I weren’t the only ones involved. Even if I was only focused on the two of us, it wasn’t just the two of us.

So… I gathered up everyone else. The whole town of Ellisburg is still talking about the week the town went crazy, but it wasn’t just a week. There was a lot leading up to it. And I think if anyone’s going to talk about it, it should be us. The people who lived it. So here we are. The most ambitious Rahma Ashiq production of all time - at least so far.

july

every july i pause whatever else i’m doing to celebrate the birthday of aurum & argentate, twins from my oldest and dearest WIP The Mortal Realm. july fifteenth! mark your calendars. they’re princes, though argentate would really rather not be; you can read the full birthday piece here.

“Do you… plan to get dressed?” A bit of the usual humor crept back into Aurum’s voice. “Although if you want to speak to the kingdom in your underthings, by all means, you have my full support.”

Argentate scrubbed at his face. He wasn’t dressed, no, but the usual malaise hung over his shoulders like a cloak. Guilt. Nerves. The sick sense that he hadn’t done something he was supposed to. The numb knowledge that it was too late to change a thing.

“I meant to,” he said. “Get dressed, I mean.” The rest went unsaid: I have just been sitting here. On the floor. Thinking about how I should get dressed.

“Ah,” Aurum said, extending his hand. “The traditional route. We’ll save the nude speeches for the future, then.”

Argentate took his hand, stumbling a little as Aurum pulled him to his feet. He steadied himself on the closest wall, taking a few deep breaths. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. His hands found their way to the cross, again and again.

august

this summer, i wrote an entire draft of Valentine Van Velt is Dead, AKA “holden caulfield goes to exposure therapy,” AKA the weird little personal side project i keep tucked into my coat. interesting features include second-person narration from a narrator who doesn’t like the main character all that much. so reading it is kind of like the book wants to kill you? with an added dash of general melancholy.

You used to live here. That’s the thing that’s got you feeling so off.

You didn’t recognize your old house. I mean, you kind of did. You remembered that the road was on a hill. That hill felt like a goddamn forty-five degree angle when you were a kid. But if you didn’t have the address written down you wouldn’t have known it at all. It would have been just another little suburban house in rows of perfect little towns that make your skin crawl.

So now you’re in this diner looking out a gross smudgy window trying to block out the elevator music pumping through the speakers in the ceiling or whatever. I don’t know how speakers work. You’re trying to tune that shit out. The waitress comes over and catches you by surprise so you just point at some coffee thing on the menu so she’ll go away. For the record: you don’t drink coffee.

There’s a public library across the street. A little square building. You probably used to go there. The lady comes over and thunks your coffee on the table and gives you a kind of look, like she wants to know what in the goddamn hell you think you’re doing here and not at school. You sip your coffee and look out the window until she leaves you alone again. And then you spit it back into the cup because, for the record: you don’t drink coffee.

september

i spent september and october prepping for nano, so i was mostly working on darkling...

It’s late spring; still, at this time of night, on a rooftop, there’s a chill. The wind plays with the end of Ruby’s coat, with her hair. She hands the bottle off to Jasper, stares up at the fogged-over sky, wishes she were lying in Dany’s arms in Dany’s bed instead of here. Wishes, even, that Dany were the one on the roof with her. At least then they’d be cold together. At least then she wouldn’t have to imagine what Dany would say; she could just listen, and watch Dany’s flashing smile and her flinty eyes.

(She cuddles. This is another thing Dany does that Dany probably shouldn’t do, based on everything about Dany; it’s not like rattlesnakes cuddle. But Dany likes to nuzzle into Ruby’s side and rest her head on Ruby’s collarbones and toss an arm over Ruby’s chest, and hold her down like she’s worried she’ll float off somewhere. She’ll card her fingers through Ruby’s hair and hum. Even though they could get caught, even though she’s probably got better places to be - Dany cuddles.)

Ruby imagines it, momentarily, both of them on the roof together, sprawled like horrifyingly beautiful gargoyles, sharp teeth flashing, blood running hot. Up here - it’d be like they ruled the world.

But whatever. Jasper’s fun. He’s hot. He’s got a sharp tongue in a lot more ways than one. And she likes when he lets the mask down. She likes seeing the soft bits underneath. She wants to sink her teeth and nails into them so hard she draws blood. Masks don’t bleed. Ruby would know; that’s why she is what she is.

october

...though i was also in creative writing class in school, and thus ended up writing a bunch of poems of varying quality (my teacher had a real thing for poetry) and also one darklingverse short story where rory and cressida hold hands! which you can find here.

Lorelai Rory Flowers is afraid of thunder.

This is a bit of an embarrassing thing to admit, as they’re seventeen (“at least seventeen,” they like to tell people, “maybe two hundred, who’s to say?”) and generally wise beyond their years, or whatever it is that adults say about kids with too much psychological baggage. Being afraid of thunder is not a very wise-beyond-one’s-years trait. And yet the state of affairs remains: loud noises make Rory want to melt into the earth. Back when they still went to school, even the fire alarm sent them scuttling under their desk to hide.

Right now, in the elevator, all they can do is shrink into their sweater.

They haven’t let go of Cressida’s hand yet.

november

and then november of course was nano which was an adventure all the way through. (opening tumblr on the fifth day of nano to find out about d*stiel... was something.)

“Apologize to me. Or get out of my house.”

Gracen’s voice is very, very low. For a moment she thinks he hasn’t heard her at all. Then he spins, eyes blazing. “What did you say?”

Gracen watches her own chest heave. She pushes herself up off the desk, stands with the effort of pushing a mountain off of her back. Leovald is six-foot-four. Gracen is six-foot-two. In her heels, in the heels she must wear to be a professional woman, to be a lady - they are the same height.

Gracen wipes her nose. When she lowers her arm, there’s a streak of blood across the back of her hand. Fire shivers in her chest; her heart rings in her ears; her voice could cut steel.

“I said,” she says, low, slow, volume building, “apologize to me. Or get. Out. Of. My. House.”

december

and finally, the poem i posted this year! it’s called the beast sonnet, and you can find it in its own post over here (with commentary! how sexy.)

i kill the beast and drop down to my knees, my blade stained dark with blood of stygian hue, and for a moment these scarred hands shake free, and hold a world unfurled for me anew. but once-mourned victims, victors, vices find; fear winged me; now its absence strips me bare. my sword now dulls, my legs, my voice, my mind; the beast, pried from my throat, leaves no skill there. and still i hear it laugh, O DEVOTEE— O CHILD DEAR, NO GLORY WITHOUT ME.

i was quite productive this year; i have to think it was because i was avoiding things... the peak of my productivity happened over the summer and in november, AKA, college app hell. (almost done with the last applications! pray for me.)

a general breakdown of what occupied me this year:

(no, i don’t know why the “various other things” category ended up so large... i blame all the one-off projects i wrote a single page for, and also whatever the fuck happened in february. yes, i do know why it looks hideous; it’s because each of my WIPs has a theme color

thank you once again for spending some time at goose-books dot gov this year! what to expect for next year: well, i very much hope i can produce AMT... also hoping to get darkling ready for beta readers, so keep your eyes out!

[smkkbert]

Last Wish (10/15)

Oliver feels like his life is crumbling when his best friend reveals that she is sick. Desperate to help her through the toughest time of her life, Oliver puts all his energy in fulfilling the wishes on Felicity’s bucket list. His hardest challenge - Felicity’s last wish on the list is getting married.

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 or read everything on Ao3

* * * 

The Northern Lights were more beautiful than Felicity could have possibly imagined because none of the photos or videos she had seen of them came close to what it was really like to experience them. They were a wonder of the world put into the sky. Just sitting there and watching them made tears well in Felicity’s. She felt so honored to be watching this – honored and just amazing from the inside out.

Right now and right here, nothing mattered. It didn’t matter that she had a tumor that was going to kill her, something her doctor had confirmed to her once more when a weak moment had caused Felicity to call her and ask if there was even the slightest chance that a therapy would save her now. It didn’t matter that she was unable to move her arm and that her legs made her feel like she was hundred years old. It didn’t matter that she might not have enough time for her other wishes to come true and that she would die with that regret on her heart. It didn’t even matter that her left leg was twitching the way her left hand had before it had given out, telling her that it was giving out sooner or later too.

None of that mattered because none of that was real here.

Even the sadness that she had still felt an hour or two ago when she and Oliver had hit the road to get here was inexistent right now. You could think that it was just absent, but it really wasn’t just that. It wasn’t existing. There wasn’t a past or a future with it. There wasn’t even a remotely distant trace left of it right now. That sadness simply didn’t exist here – it was just an irrelevant thought that had no impact on her life at all.

Felicity had always believed that sleeping was giving her a nice feeling. You didn’t feel anything at all, not even the pain if you were lucky enough. It felt like you didn’t exist which was great when your life was made of a lot of pain. This was better though because Felicity could feel every inch of her body without feeling any pain. This time, it wasn’t her that was inexistent, it was everything that was around her, well, almost everything.

She felt light-hearted and healthy, really on the peak of life. It was like she had been newborn. She was sure if she just jumped up and started dancing, her legs would carry her easily and make her dance all through the night until the sun was shining down on her, and she’d fall into the grass from exhaustion, breathless and happy.

Her body, heart and soul were good as long as she was here. Maybe the Northern Lights had some healing powers. It definitely felt like this right now.

Was this what afterlife would be like?

Felicity had spent a lot of time thinking about afterlife. She hadn’t always been sure that it existed. She had been raised Jewish, and she considered herself to be Jewish. In situations like these, she guessed it was only natural to have some doubts though. At least Felicity couldn’t absolve herself of it. Still, at the end she had decided to believe in afterlife because it offered her a little bit of comfort.

The sky was so close. Felicity felt like she only had to reach out her hand, and she would touch the colorful aurora. It would feel warm and soft, and it would leave glitter of the same color on her fingers. It would be magical, just as magical as this moment.

So, if there was an afterlife, this looked like a perfect version of it, somewhere to spend all eternity because it was giving her so many great things. She could live with the idea of having this as her afterlife. Well, or she could die with it.

She felt one of the tears that had been welling in her eyes running down her cheek now and hurried to wipe it away.

Oliver, who was sitting behind her with his legs placed next to hers and his arms wrapped around her middle, angled his head. His chin was resting on her shoulder now, his lips brushing against the edge of her jaw. His arms tightened around her, pulling the blanket even tighter around her shoulder and her body even closer to him. It made her feel all the warmer this wrapped up into his embrace.

“Are you okay?”

He whispered the words before he kissed away that little tear that had fallen. His lips lingered there, his breath ghosting over her skin, before he pulled away. Although Felicity didn’t look at him, she knew that he was staring at her. She could feel his gaze on her face, trying to get beneath her skin and find out what was going on inside of her.

Felicity wanted to tell him that she was okay. The moment she tried to answer, she felt a sob falling from her lips though. More tears were running down her cheeks. Felicity held onto Oliver’s bicep tightly, and Oliver laced his fingers through hers immediately. His arms tightened around her once more, and he rocked her from side to side like you did to a crying child that you wanted to fall asleep.

“Pssst.” He hushed her gently and leaned his forehead against her head, his nose pressing to her cheek to breathe her in. “I’m here. I’m here with you.”

He was, Felicity thought to herself, and it was that little cherry on top that made it all the better. Imagining that she didn’t have to relinquish him in afterlife was making this version of it all the more attractive. She would still leave him behind, but he would come with her. Without dying of course.

“Do you want to go back?”

Felicity shook her head firmly. Her hand tightened around Oliver’s fingers, and it gave her what she needed to take in a deep breath. She closed her eyes, letting the oxygen flow through her and making her feel a little bit calmer.

“No,” she whispered, still a little breathless, “no, it’s perfect here.”

She could feel Oliver’s confusion while he was looking at her and even more when he was brushing his fingertips over the wet spots on her cheeks that the tears had left.

“I’m happy.”

It was a short sentence, whispered barely louder than the beat of her heart was in her ears, but it was still incredibly meaningful. Maybe the fact that she could only whisper those words proved that more than she had thought.

“I am so, so happy.”

Oliver chuckled lightly at that, certainly relieved that she was okay. Happy tears were certainly better than tears of fear or sadness or pain. They were still tears though, so Oliver tightened his hold on her even more. It could almost painful given that she wasn’t really able to move like that, but Felicity didn’t mind at all. She liked to be this tightly embraced by Oliver. It was a nice feeling, so she snuggled back against him even more.

“This is so beautiful,” Felicity whispered, “like a miracle.”

“Yeah,” Oliver whispered, nuzzling her cheek slightly, “just perfect.”

Oliver’s voice sounded different than it usually did, causing Felicity to rip her gaze away from the stunning aurora. His face looked peaceful and content. There was the glimpse of a smile on his face while he was watching the Northern Lights. They really seemed to fascinate him as much as they fascinated Felicity too.

Felicity wondered if he, just like her, could forget the chaos around them while they were here. Maybe, for the first time in weeks, he forgot that she was dying. She was sure that it hadn’t let go of him since she had told him about it and that it had only gotten worse after she cried herself to sleep in his arms on Christmas Morning. He had worried about her because he hadn’t expected her to show any kind of sadness about her tumor. She hadn’t shown any before.

What could Felicity possibly say? She hadn’t thought that she’d be sad either.

Pushing all of those thoughts away, she focused on Oliver once more. It was easy to forget about everything else when she was looking at him. With how peaceful he was, it was easy to forget about everything else again. Oliver was just as fascinating as the Northern Lights.

Felicity had trouble to suppress a sigh when she leaned her head back against Oliver’s shoulder, snuggling her cheek to it while she was continuing to look at Oliver. He had the same calming effects on her although her heart was making an excited jump between every other beat. It was something only Oliver could make her heart do, Felicity guessed.

Maybe this moment wasn’t taking away everything, Felicity thought to herself, because she certainly still felt the same way for Oliver that she had felt for years, and she still regretted that they had taken their time together for granted. They had missed so much.

Five years ago, they had been so close to giving into their feelings. If only there had been the right moment, some moment of crazy sizzling, maybe they would have taken that final step. Then again, there had been so many moments of crazy sizzling, but they had never taken that step.

Felicity remembered sitting at home and waiting for Oliver to come over like he always had. He had been late, and he hadn’t texted her which hadn’t been Oliver’s usual behavior at all. When he had called her eventually, telling her that Thea was in surgery, Felicity couldn’t have possibly known that whatever they had been starting to develop for each other would be put on hold for years or even be canceled forever.

It wasn’t fair that this had happened to them. Thea’s death alone had been tragic enough for everyone involved. That they had needed to lose their chance at being together soon wasn’t fair.

This close to the sky, Felicity wondered if maybe she had been wrong though. Maybe there was a chance for them after all. They didn’t have al the time in the world. They didn’t even have particularly much time, but she still had some time left. It wouldn’t be as easy and as carefree as the first time between lovers should be, but who knew? They could still have a good time if what they thought they were feeling for each other was only a fraction of what they were actually feeling for each other, there might be at least a little bit of happiness in their reach if they just gave it a chance.

Oliver will suffer either way. It didn’t matter if they were together or not. He loved her if he had actually meant it which Felicity believed he did. That meant that, nothing she could possibly do could prevent Oliver from grieving her death in a heartbreaking way.

All she did was taking the little time they still had left away from them.

Felicity was still looking at Oliver when he suddenly turned his head. His eyes locked with hers, and the small furrow that always grew between his eyebrows when he was worried showed there. Felicity frowned slightly, unwilling to see it there, and she lifted her hand to smooth that little crease in his skin. It wasn’t supposed to be there. This was a happy place, and happy places didn’t allow any worries there.

For a split second, Felicity wondered if she was high. Maybe the Northern Lights were working as some kind of drug to her. She felt like she had been drugged or like she was at least very, very tipsy. It was the good kind of tipsy though, not the bad kind that got your head spinning and your stomach rebelling. She couldn’t completely preclude it although she guessed that it wasn’t really likely.

When she shook her head about her own train of thoughts, a warm smile spread on Oliver’s lips. His eyes shone with that deep love she had only ever seen in his eyes.

“Everything okay?”

His voice was casual, but Felicity could hear that there was a little bit of worry or at least confusion there too. She knew she should certainly watch the Northern Lights, and she would do it again. At first, she needed to get this new way of thinking off her chest.

“Did you mean it?”

Now, Oliver seemed all the more confused. He looked at her intently, his eyes narrowing down on her for a moment before they looked away and back towards her in less than two seconds. Although no sound was to be heard, his lips formed the little question, “What?”

Felicity chuckled lightly, dropping her forehead against Oliver’s shoulder. Apparently, he couldn’t read all of her thoughts which was actually kind of nice to know. She wasn’t completely readable for him yet.

When Felicity angled her head back again, looking at Oliver’s face, his eyes were still on her face. He still looked incredibly confused, and it made him look so, so sweet.

“Did you mean it when you told me you loved me?”

Felicity could almost pinpoint the moment when he got that this wasn’t going to be a light conversation and that Felicity wasn’t just asking for no real reason. He might not actually understand where exactly this conversation was going, but he got a feeling that it might change things. She could see it in his eyes.

If it hadn’t been for that intense expression in his eyes, Felicity might have mistaken his silence that followed her question as a rejection. It could be so easily seen as a sign that he hadn’t really meant it, but the truth was already written in his eyes. Even before he said the words, she knew what he would say. Even without that expression in his eyes, she would have known. She knew Oliver too well not to know.

“With every beat of my heart,” he told her firmly, “and, yes, I know that it’s corny.”

“Good because that way I don’t have to point it out for you.”

Although Felicity had meant to ease the mood a little bit with her comment, she hadn’t even managed to smile. Her eyes were focused on Oliver’s face, her thoughts spinning all about the decision she had to made or might have made already. She didn’t know.

“I love you, Felicity,” Oliver whispered, using her silence to just say it again, “and nothing that you will say or do will ever change that.”

She believed him. She believed every single word he said, and she believed that he meant it with the same intensity that his voice and his eyes were carrying. There was no doubt about that. As beautiful it was, it had a slightly bitter taste to it. She wasn’t sure if Oliver tasted that same bitterness, and she hated that she had to make him feel it, but she knew that she really, really had to.

“You do understand that I will die very soon, right?” she asked slowly. “This is no romcom where love will heal me or something like that. I will die, Oliver.”

He hated her saying that. It was like being punched in the face over and over again. She could see that in his eyes, too, but he also knew that she had to realize that he wasn’t closing his eyes from that. So, instead of telling her to stop it, he sucked in a deep breath. His lips were still pressed together, but he nodded his head.

Felicity knew that it should be enough. Knowing it and accepting it should be enough. She shouldn’t have to hear the words from him, but she had to. She knew there was no coming back from her decision, so she needed to be a hundred percent sure that Oliver knew what he was getting himself into.

“I know that you are dying and that nothing can save you,” Oliver said with slightly trembling voice, “I know that.”

He knew that, and he accepted that as much as you could accept really accept it as long as it hadn’t happened yet. He certainly couldn’t really deal with it, but that was something completely different, something she couldn’t demand from him yet. It would be too much to ask, especially since she had found herself having trouble dealing with it lately, too.

Oliver could certainly feel Felicity’s hesitation because he angled his head down a little and brushed his nose against her cheekbone for a split second.

“As far as I see this, I will lose you either way, Felicity,” Oliver told her gently, the hurt audible in his voice, “because love won’t heal you, but it won’t kill you either.”

“Probably not.”

Felicity mumbled the words, playing with the zipper of Oliver’s jacket to have something to do. Her eyes were still locked with Oliver’s. Even if she tried, she knew she wouldn’t be able to look away.

“All I want is to enjoy the last time we have together,” he continued eventually, “because to me that makes more sense than pretending that you are already dead.”

Felicity nodded her head. What Oliver was saying made sense. It made all the sense in the world really. Looking back, it almost felt weird that she had ever thought differently. It was like the Northern Lights hadn’t only taken away her pain and her sadness. It had also taken away all the good doubts she had had about going all in with Oliver.

“Of course I understand if you don’t feel the same way for me or still don’t know how you feel. I really don’t want to push you,” Oliver continued a moment later, “I mean five years back, before Thea had died, I really thought you had feelings for me. Then Thea died, and I know I have changed a lot after that. I am sure that I was unbearable from time to time, and the sides of me that you saw certainly weren’t really sexy or even attractive or-“

“I love you.”

Her three words made Oliver stop and look at her like she had just told that the earth was flat. She doubted that he would have looked any different from that if she had told him that. He certainly hadn’t expected hearing those words today or ever.

“I love you, Oliver,” she repeated, “I just-“

She sucked in a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the collar of Oliver’s jacket. She didn’t know why she needed that feeling of having him close to her and being able to keep him this close to her was something she needed to dearly. She really couldn’t tell, but she was unable to fight the feeling, so she gave into it.

Felicity realized that all those good doubts were suddenly back. The words that told Oliver how she was feeling were out, but those doubts were back inside of her.

“I don’t think you should give your heart to me too much,” she whispered, wondering if she had said those words to him already or if she had just thought about them so much that it felt like she had said them before, “because I will die soon, and I don’t want you to do all of this to do me a favor or-“

His lips were suddenly on hers, swallowing all doubts she might have still voiced. They were just there, silencing Felicity all of a sudden. Felicity was too surprised to do anything. Her heart was telling her to deepen the kiss. Her brain was telling her to stop it. Their voices were shouting at the same time though, so she could barely understand anything they were saying.

Before Felicity could decide what she should or wanted to do, Oliver pulled back. His arms tightened around her even more, and his eyes were as piercingly blue as Felicity had never seen them before. Even in the dark of the night she could see it.

“I’m not doing this to do you a favor.” Oliver lifted a hand to the side of her face and brushed his fingertips over her cheek. “Until two minutes ago, I wasn’t sure if you loved me too.”

Felicity leaned her face into his touch. She couldn’t speak. Otherwise, she would have told him again and again that she loved him. She wanted him to believe her. Her words were meaningless if she didn’t believe him.

“Felicity, I am doing this because I have wanted this for the past five years. I have lost sight on it from time to time, but I do know with a hundred percent certainty that I really want to be with you. Of course it would be nice if we had years left, but if we only have some months of even just some weeks, I will take it. I will take whatever I get. It’s going to be worth it. I already know that.”

Of course it was going to be worth it. Every time Oliver had kissed her, her heart had been so incredibly happy that it had almost felt like it had tried to beat outside of her chest. She was crazy for Oliver, so incredibly crazy that she knew it was going to be amazing being with him. Their friendship was amazing. Their relationship was only going to be even better.

“This might be the most selfish thing that I will ever do in my life because I know you wanted to keep your distance, so you didn’t have to feel any regrets about pulling me deeper in,” Oliver added in a low whisper, “but I really want to do this if you want it too. Just don’t do it to do me a favor. If you have any doubts about my feelings, about your feelings, about what you will feel if you die, tell me.”

They were feeling the exact same way, Felicity realized. They had both loved each other for years. They had both held back on their feelings for each other after Thea had died. They both still loved each other though. Both of them were afraid though, afraid that the other was just giving in because they were feeling guilty or at least like they owed it to the other.

They were so in tune with each other, and they wanted to be with each other. In this moment, for the first time in five years, they fit together like two pieces of a puzzle because they were feeling the same, thinking the same and the circumstances surrounding them weren’t as destructive as they had been or maybe they were forgotten.

Because of that, nothing else mattered, so everything else be screwed.

Felicity straightened up as much as necessary to capture Oliver’s lips in another kiss. It was a gentle, feather-light kiss. Their lips were just brushing together oh so softly. Oliver’s lips were just pressing back down onto hers, not pulling away and not deepening the kiss. He sucked her bottom lip between both of his lips lightly though, almost like he wanted to hold onto it.

Although it was a rather simple kiss, simple compared to the passionate kisses that they had already shared in her dreams, it got her heart racing. That little drunk-on-love butterflies were fluttering in her stomach, forming a hurricane that was running through her and causing an amazing tingling to spread all through her body. Whatever her head had screamed before, it was silent now.

It didn’t last much longer than their kiss before.

Pulling back, she licked her lips. She wanted to chase his taste on her lips. She couldn’t get enough of it. She already wanted more, more and more. She actually doubted that it could ever be enough.

“This is certainly the most selfish thing I have ever done in my life, too,” Felicity whispered, again, feeling the exact same way Oliver did, “so I guess we can just be selfish together, right?”

“Together.” Oliver tightened his arms around her waist. “Together is my favorite way to do things.”

He kissed the tip of her nose, making Felicity smile. She shot a brief look back at the Northern Lights, her good spirits, before she made herself free of Oliver’s arms. He hesitated before he let go of her, unsure what she was doing. He did let go of her though, giving her room if that was what she needed.

Since he had taken the blanket away from around her body, it was freezingly cold, so Felicity hurried to turn around in his arms. When she made herself comfortable on his lap, wrapping her legs around his hips loosely, their chests were pressing together. Quickly, Oliver wrapped his arms back around her, holding her as tightly to him as he had before.

With their foreheads rested together, they looked at each other intently. Their noses were brushing together whenever the took in a breath at the same time. Even through the thick layers of clothes separating them, Felicity could feel Oliver’s heartbeat, and the fact that it was just as quick as hears made her smile.

“Together?”

Her voice was barely audible and the question could mean a lot of things, but she knew that Oliver got it. He knew what exactly she was asking for. She was asking to be selfish together. To just be together.

For a long moment, neither of them said a word. Neither of them moved. Felicity felt like this moment was lasting forever, but she got why Oliver needed a moment. Now, the ball was in his field, and everything was different when you were the one making that final decision.

Still, he nodded his head. “Together.”

With that, their lips came back together in a passionate kiss. Oliver’s tongue moved over the seam between her lips, begging for entrance. She granted it willingly, feeling a long sigh of content slipping from her lips when his tongue met hers in a slow dance. Her teeth grazed his bottom lip, causing Oliver to growl into the kiss. She swallowed that passionate sound gladly, using her right hand to grab some strands of his hair and pulling him even closer to her.

Five years of hidden feelings exploded in her chest. She really knew no other word to describe that mass of feelings that filled her from the inside out. It filled her body, her thoughts and her soul. This was really everything.

Although Felicity’s heart was hammering against her ribs like it was trying to break them and she was as out of breath as she had just run all around the world, she didn’t stop. She could feel Oliver trying to hold back and give her a break, so she could catch her breath and make sure that she was okay. Whenever he tried to pull back, she just tightened her hold on his hair and pulled him back towards her once more.

They wanted to make the most of the time they had left, so that was what they were going to do now. She wouldn’t settle for anything less, even if she might pass out from exhaustion in the next minutes.

 * * *

 Oliver didn’t want to wake up. He could feel his consciousness starting to push sleep aside, trying to fight itself to the surface. He didn’t want to let his consciousness win over the sleep though. He didn’t want to lose his dreams. They had been too great to let go of them already.

In his dreams, he and Felicity had spent hours under the Northern Lights. They had sat there, snuggled to each other and wrapped into a blanket to protect them from the cold. They had watched the aurora together, getting lost in the magic of that spectacular natural phenomenon.

As if the Northern Lights themselves hadn’t hold enough magic, Felicity had added some more magic to his night by telling him that she loved him and that she wanted to be together. They had spent even more hours under the Northern Lights, just cuddling and kissing with each other. The way it should have been for years.

The way it would be from now on.

That thought echoed in his head again and again until Oliver realized that it was true. They were together now, and it was going to be like that from now on. He loved Felicity, and Felicity loved him. That wasn’t even a dream.

With that, his eyes fluttered open. He had to blink against the dazzling night that came in through the windows. He hadn’t shut the jalousies last night because he had wanted the light of the stars to shine into the room and help him seeing Felicity. He had watched her for so very long before he had eventually fallen asleep.

Slowly, Oliver lowered his eyes to look at Felicity. Just like every night in the last few weeks, she had fallen asleep in his arms. They had slept with her back resting against his chest and his arm wrapped around her waist loosely for most of the times. Not so this morning when they were chest to chest, Felicity’s face almost hidden against his chest.

He could only see the side of her face, not nearly enough to please him right now. Given that he had finally been granted the privilege of being Felicity, he wanted to make the best of it. Watching her while she was sleeping and knowing that he didn’t have to feel any guilt about it was definitely one of the best sides of being together.

As carefully as possible, Oliver slid a couple of inches away and further down the mattress. He only stopped when his face was on one level with hers, just far enough away, so he could get a good and close look at her. Finally, he could really see her again.

Felicity was incredibly beautiful, always had been. In the warm Alaskan sun, her beauty only seemed to be emphasized. Her blond curls looked golden and, spread out on the pillow like they were now, they reminded him of a halo. It would fit. Felicity was his beautiful angel. She deserved a halo for everyone else to see what he saw in her.

A single curl of her hair fell into her face. It moved from her lips to her nose and back with every breath she took. It was sweet, but Oliver was sure that it was annoying and would wake her up eventually which would be a pity. Felicity didn’t get a lot of sleep lately, and she needed it after their last night.

Oliver felt a small wave of worry ebbing through him. She had been so exhausted that she hadn’t even been able to get up from the ground anymore. Her legs had been shaking when he had tried to pull her onto her feet. He had had to give her a piggyback ride and then he had needed to undress her and put her into one of his thick hoodies because she still insisted wearing his clothes rather than her own. She had been fast sleep before her head hit the pillow, a whispered “I love you” falling from her lips.

Quickly, Oliver tugged that strand of hair out of her face. He leaned in then, brushing a gentle kiss to Felicity’s forehead.

As soon as his lips made contact with her warm, sweat-covered skin, he frowned though. He pulled back for a second before he put his hand to the back of her head and kissed her forehead once more. Her skin was still as warm as the first time. She was running a fever.

His heart jumped in his chest nervously. A fever wasn’t a good sign. It meant that everything had been too much for her lately. She needed more rest, more time to catch her breath. Her state of health was instable and every exhaustion could throw her further back. If she had another seizure, that was going to be bad, worse so if it happened here. He had felt so helpless back then, and he doubted it would be any different during a second seizure.

Swallowing down the thick lump he felt in his throat, Oliver slipped out from under the blanket and pulled it as tightly around Felicity’s body as possible. He stroked over her hair and leaned his lips against her ear then.

“I will get you a tea and a heating pad,” he whispered and kissed her temple, “I will be right back.”

He didn’t want to leave her alone. He wanted to stay here with her, but he knew he had to let go and get downstairs to get her some of the stuff she needed to feel better. He’d be barely some feet away, he told himself, so it shouldn’t be too bad.

Still, Oliver’s steps were quick when he hurried down the stairs and towards the kitchen. Waiting for the water to get hot, he checked his phone. He had gotten some texts from his mom, asking how they were doing and if Felicity was okay.

Oliver was about to type his answer when his phone rang. Apparently, motherly instincts were able to cross quite some distance. His mother must have known that he needed her right now.

“Mom.”

“Oliver,” she said, apparently surprised that he was actually taking the call, “I didn’t think I would get you to the phone this early in the morning?”

“Why did you call then?”

“Call it motherly instincts, but I got the feeling that you needed a call.”

Oliver sighed with relief, and it turned into a chuckle. He might have criticized his parents from time to time, but they were really good parents at the end. They always knew what he really needed them, and they were there for him in those cases.

“I did need you to call me,” Oliver replied honestly, massaging the back of his neck and looking towards the stairs, “although I am not sure that you can help.”

“Try me.”

“Felicity’s not feeling well,” Oliver replied, “she is running a fever.”

“For how long?”

“I only noticed it now. It definitely wasn’t the case yesterday. We have been watching the Northern Lights far into the night. She was exhausted when we headed home, terribly exhausted. Maybe it was too much. Maybe we should have-"

"This was Felicity’s childhood dream, Oliver,” his mother interrupted him gently, “nothing you could have done would have stopped her from seeing the Northern Lights. Even if you had found a way, you would have taken an incredible experience from her. It wouldn’t have been fair to her, and it wouldn’t have been fair to the promise you have made to yourself.”

Oliver knew deep down that his mother was right. Felicity had wanted to go to Alaska and see the Northern Lights. She had wanted it so much that she hadn’t even considered asking her doctor if it was okay for her to travel to Alaska. Oliver had suggested it, but she had told him that was going – whether her doctor gave her go or not.

Maybe it wasn’t even the entire journey that they should have put on hold or slowed down even. Maybe it would have been enough to just take some breaks during their long make out session. It probably would have been just as senseless as telling Felicity not to go to Alaska at all.

He couldn’t have done anything different. Felicity wouldn’t have let him.

“Okay, so since the past is done and can’t be changed, maybe you have some advice what I should do now.”

“Well, a warm blanket, tea and a heating pad helped you a lot of times when you were sick.”

“One is already done, two are in preparation.”

Oliver didn’t have to see his mother to know that she was smiling. He could it hear her smile in her next words though.

“I am really proud that you are taking such good care of Felicity. Have I ever told you that?”

“A couple of times in the last weeks.” Oliver smiled, actually kind of happy that his mother was proud of him. He didn’t know why it meant so much to him, especially since she had told him that she was proud a couple of times already. “Anyway, what am I supposed to do now? I’m afraid that she will go through another seizure. I don’t know what to do then.”

“Felicity’s medicaments are supposed to stop that from happening.”

“But they aren’t a hundred percent safe,” he reminded his mother, “and I don’t want to risk anything. Besides, I can’t take her on a plane home when she is running a fever. It’s too dangerous and-“

“Okay, relax,” his mother told him gently, “I am sure it’s just a reaction to the exhaustion. I will contact Felicity’s doctor and ask her what to do. Your father can try figuring out if there are any good doctors around in the meantime.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Oliver replied, “I have made a list with all kind of doctors we could need during our stay.”

“Okay,” his mother said, “so I will call you if I find out anything else that is helpful.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime, Oliver.”

By the time they hung up, the water for the tea and heating pad was ready. He filled the water into the heating pad and added some teabags to the Thermos bottle. He glanced towards the zwieback briefly, but he knew that Felicity wouldn’t eat anything. Even if she wasn’t running a temperature, she wouldn’t eat anything. Breakfast was a problematic meal for her lately.

With the heating pad in one hand and the Thermos bottle as well as a mug in the other hand, Oliver went back upstairs. He opened the door with his elbow and pushed it open with his hip. Looking at the empty bed, he frowned.

“Felicity?”

She didn’t answer him, but the noises from the bathroom were enough to tell him where she was. Quickly, Oliver put the heating pad and Thermos bottle down and hurried towards the bathroom. Felicity was kneeling in front of the toilet. She vomited although the gurgling and gasping sounds told him that there was probably nothing in her stomach to vomit.

From all the nights that he had been out and got drunk, he knew that vomiting bile was worse than anything else. It was like your stomach wanted to vomit, but it just couldn’t do it, so the body was trying to find anything to vomit, even if it had to turn the stomach inside out.

With two large steps, Oliver stepped behind Felicity. He kneeled down behind her, holding back her hair and rubbing her back. He knew it wasn’t doing much, but it was better than not doing anything.

Once Felicity closed the toilet lid, put her arm onto it and lowered her face onto it, Oliver got back up. He flushed the toilet, got to the sink and filled it with water.

“Here,” he said when he kneeled down next to her on the floor and handed her the glass, “that will help.”

“I… need to rinse my mouth first.”

Oliver nodded. He could see on the tip of Felicity’s nose that she was nowhere near strong enough to get up. With a quick look around, he eventually grabbed a little bowl that seemed to be there to catch the water that came in from the leak in the roof.

He watched Felicity rinsing her mouth several times, spitting the water into the bowl. When she leaned her head back with a sigh, she held the bowl between her chest and her legs.

“I’ll take that.”

Oliver grabbed the bowl from her and emptied it in the sink. He put it aside and grabbed her empty glass of water instead. Only ten second later, he gave it back to her with more water. She took some urgent sips.

There was a part of him that wanted to push his hands into the pockets of his pants, but he wasn’t wearing any pants, so he wiped his hands up and down his boxer briefs awkwardly. Standing there, he watched Felicity. She looked exhausted and tired and sick. Last night, she had looked like she had been reborn. Now there was no trace left of that.

Taking in a deep breath, he sat down next to her. He put a hand to her head and pulled it closer until her head was resting on his shoulder. She sighed, snuggling to his side with closed eyes. Oliver kissed the top of her head before rested his chin there.

“How are you doing?”

“Not good,” Felicity admitted, “but a little bit better then when I woke up.”

Oliver sought Felicity’s forehead with his lips. He brushed a gentle kiss to it, feeling her temperature. It seemed to have cooled down a little indeed which was a good sign. It didn’t mean that she was okay though. She still looked like a ghost, her skin white except for the dark shadows under her eyes.

“Maybe we should cut our stay in Alaska short,” he said, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly, “and go home. Everything was a little much lately, wasn’t it?”

Felicity released a long sigh like all the worries that the Northern Lights had pushed away last night were back. They were pressing down on her chest and trying to suffocate her. Oliver knew that because he was feeling the same way since he had realized that Felicity was running a fever.

“Yeah, maybe.” Felicity sighed, her right hand holding onto his bicep tightly. “Maybe it was too much.”

There was some deep sadness in her voice, and Oliver hated it. He hated that he didn’t get along with how her body wasn’t playing along to her plans. There were so many things she wanted to do, but her body didn’t allow her to do those things. It just gave out and fought her soul, trying to make it feel as crappy as possible.

It had to be a thousand times worse for her.

“I’m sorry.”

Oliver could hear the tears in Felicity’s voice. She had loved their little trip here, so she certainly wanted to stay here as much as Oliver did. She knew as well as he did that she was better off in her bed in Queen Manor, close to her doctors.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he whispered into her hair and kissed the crown of her head once more, “because this isn’t your fault.”

Felicity took in a sniffling breath. “Oh, really? Whose fault is it?”

She angled her head back looking at him. She looked angry and helpless at the same time, a terrible mixture that Oliver all too well. Being angry and having nobody to be angry at was dangerous because in a lot of cases you started being angry at yourself and expressed that through self-destructive actions. He knew a lot about those too.

“Nobody’s,” he told her gently and kissed her forehead soothingly, “which is why we aren’t going to blame anyone for this.”

Felicity didn’t seem to be satisfied with the answer. She released a grumbling sound, scrunching up her nose. She rested her head back against the wall behind her, just staring into the room with blank eyes.

He knew she was disappointed. This might be the last time that she was getting out of Starling City. She had liked to stay here a little longer, just like he did. She knew that she was better off in Starling City though, just like he did.

“I brewed you some tea and made you a heating pad.”

Felicity shot him a brief look before she nodded her head. With a deep inhale of breath, she rubbed her hand over her face then, erasing the last traces of her tears. She straightened her shoulders and nodded her head once more as if she wanted to ready herself.

“Do you think you can get up on your own?”

Again, Felicity shot him a brief glance. Her eyes lingered on his face a little longer this time though. She nodded.

“Okay.” Oliver nodded his head too. “I will make some phone calls and see what I can arrange and-“

He was already about to get up, a list of at least five different things he had to do already running through his thoughts. Before he got to get up on his feet, Felicity took his hand though. When he looked at her, he saw that the sadness was indeed brushed away, no trace of it left. There was hesitation there now instead, making Oliver frown.

Oliver stayed where he was, looking at Felicity. He got a feeling that whatever she was going to tell him was not something he would like to hear. He already got a feeling that he knew where this was going. It was the one conversation he had feared would happen in the back of his mind since he had woken up.

Looking at him, a small smile ghosted over her face. She laced her fingers through his and leaned a little bit more against him. It was sweet, but it didn’t necessarily look like a good sign, not as long as she was looking at him the way she did.

“Last night was magic.”

Oliver nodded his head. He didn’t want to say anything though. If she wanted a way out, he would leave that to her. He hated that thought, but it was her life and her decision. He had gotten a glimpse of what being with her could look like, and the thought of having it taken away from him already was worse than a lot of pain he had experienced in his life.

With held breath, he waited for that little word that had resonated in her words, the little word that told him that she was retreating.

“But-“

There it was.

His face must have given away his slight annoyance or fear or whatever messy mixture of emotions he was feeling at the thought what was going to happen. Felicity stopped, biting down on her bottom lip. She hesitated once more and just watched him quietly.

Oliver pressed his lips together tightly and took in a deep breath. It was her life and her decision, even if it had an influence on his life and, with that, should be a little bit his decision too.

“But we are back to reality today,” Felicity continued after a pause, “which means that I’d understand if you have changed your mind.”

Frowning, Oliver looked at her. Only now he got that she wasn’t trying to find a way out. He had been completely wrong thinking that, just because there were no Northern Stars anymore, Felicity wanted to forget that the magic had an I love you slip from her lips. She wasn’t backing away because she had changed her mind. She wasn’t retreating. It was quite the opposite. She was giving him an out in case he wanted to retreat.

Felicity’s first thought in the light of her temperature and vomiting, wasn’t that she was getting worse and maybe a step closer to dying. Her first thought was his wellbeing and her need to make sure that he wasn’t doing something that he didn’t want to do.

“I know this isn’t really sexy,” Felicity added with what was probably supposed to be a chuckle, but sounded a lot drier than that, “and, speaking of sex, I doubt that we will ever have any and-“

“Do you remember that time that I vomited into your bed?”

Felicity snorted which was answer enough. It wasn’t really possible to forget something like that. It had been one of the many nights after Thea’s death when he had gotten so incredibly drunk just to forget the pain for a couple of hours. Some nights, he had been so drunk that he had a complete blackout.

That one night, Oliver remembered that, although he had been completely drunk and at a great party, his grief had suddenly overwhelmed him. He had wanted to call a cab, but he had found himself calling Felicity instead. He had needed her in that moment, so he had called her. It had been the middle of the night, but she had taken the call and picked him up nonetheless. She had taken him home with him and helped him undress.

He remembered thinking to himself that he wanted to tell her that he loved her. He wanted to kiss her again and again. He wanted to undress and bury himself inside of her. He had been sure that having sex with her, meaningful sex with the woman he loved, would help him to forget Thea when not even alcohol had helped.

He didn’t know if Felicity had understood any of the drunk babble that had fallen from his lips or if he had made any attempts at touching her the way he had thought about in that moment. He couldn’t remember it later, and, if it had happened, Felicity hadn’t shown any signs of it. She had pretended like nothing had happened – nothing but the fact that he had vomited in her bed.

Sadly, he hadn’t forgotten that part either.

“Did that change how you felt about me?”

Felicity cocked her head, flashing him a smile. “Of course not.”

“See?” Oliver tapped his forefinger against the tip of Felicity’s nose. “So why would it be any different for me?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I just thought that it was fairer to give you a way out in case that is what you wanted.”

“I don’t,” Oliver confirmed to her once more, took her left hand and kissed first the engagement ring and then the palm of her hand, “because this ring means for better or worse, in sickness and in health.”

“Actually, it’s the wedding band that means that,” Felicity told him with slightly puckered lips, “and it’s going to be my sickness and your health.”

Oliver put a hand to the side of her face and brushed his fingers against her cheekbone. He hoped that they had enough time for her to understand that he just wanted to be with her. Of course he wished that she was healthy, but he couldn’t change that. Taking care of her was part of being with her, and he accepted that.

He leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss, but Felicity put her fingers to his chin and pushed him away, shaking her head.

“Morning breath is disgusting,” she told him with scrunched up nose, “and mixed with after-vomit breath I am sure it’s the worst.”

Oliver sighed, pushed her hand away and turned her head, so he could brush a kiss to the corner of her lips. That had to be enough for now, he guessed, but it was okay. They still had time later.

* * *

@fannaz​ @promiseyoullbepatientwithme​ @bytemegeekette​ @felicity-said-just-in-case​ @phanseptiic​ @orangeisorange​ @mspotatohead14​ @whentheheavenfades​ @emmaamelia95​ @smoakingskye​ @seaolicity​ @ourwritinginvein​ @1022bridgetp​ @felicityqueenforever​ @leagueofolicity17​ @yryssss​ @myhauntedblacksoul​ @sherlock44​ @sinceriouslybea​ @olivyflavescentdeer​ @olicitys-castle​ @ofnothingcharming​ @vaelisamaza​ @smoakedandcharmed​ @alexisa1206​ @mysaudadespt2​ @florence-bubbles​ @addictiontelly​ @queens-of-arrows​ @memcjo​ @hysterical-for-joshifer-blog​ @oswinelevenforever​ @olicitylovemaking @bandanab310​ @mymusiclove101​ @lynslogic​ @scarletqueen23​ @olicityshipper19​ @alex-wesley​ @arrows-4ever​ @unabashedlynerdypatrol​ @louehmysoul​ @ligiapimenta​ @chattyyana​ @charlie-leau​ @coal000​ @samcrowleys​ @ishippolivia​ @julianegomesqueen​ @malafle​ @miriam1779​ @charlinert​ @melaux​ @ontheolicityship​ @myshipperlife​ @wrightainsley @lexi9515​ @ladygreenwood​ @multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl​ @morinamel​ @mje-thomas​ @kebarry​ @canadianheartgirl​ @nannett2307​ @almondblossomme​ @kathrynelizabeth89​ @imdfabulous​ @mrt2501​ @arsipaci14​ @salasvia​ @brandis91 @cainc3​ @morganmiguess @pr0fessi0nal-fangurl​ @iamisalima​ @nessafrancis-blog​ @jonhdiggle​ @niki-is-amazing​ @universed-posts @hopeful-warrior​ @senoritaswiftie​ @bellemmie​ @green-arrows-of-karamel​ @iheartarrow​ @olicityovereverything​ @oliverfel4​ @olicity-in-the-heart​ @fullychippedcreation​ @geemarie​ @everything-but-normal-cat @myarroworld​ @tjmartinez​ @pleasantfanandstudent​ @j69confessional2​ @scentedcolorpirate​ @icanica74​ @tjmartinez98​ @certainmentalityface​ @tatianadamaceno @ryelew​ @wildwillowzepplin​ @missafairy​ @letsplaymurde-r​ @lipizette​ @positivepiper​ @nuttymilkshakehologram​ @laksagirl-blog​ @turnupthemusicandscream​ @pumpernickle93 @onceuponanolicity​ @1106angel​ @jaspertown​ @fadinglands​ @morganashimi83​ @mochababychristy​ @omglovechrissie​ @mariejr88-blog​ @thetaufactor​ @onceuponanolicity​ @speakandseethetruth​ @bri206​ @aglasgo​ @geemarie​ @pineprincess​ @nerdgirljen​ @eternal-olicity14​ @allyouhadtodowas-stay-stay-stay​ @lovelycssefan​ @tsseract​ @flowerandsunshine​ @dcnmarvelgamergeek​ @blondeeoneexox @monetsmark​ @bb-olicity​ @mashamarty​ @rulerofsilence​ @erika-amber​ @nothingmorethanmyotps​ @kayleenyc​ @tonto16 @olicityfluv​ @olicitea1990​ @haahaaa2408​ @pattid1​ @faegal04​ @24karatgem​ @wrldtravler​ @readerkas​ @olicity-beliver​ @greencoffeecups​ @snorlaxishere​ @sonothappening118

(If you want to be tagged or untagged, just let me know. :))

[rocknrollmj]

Happy Birthday Part 2

A/N: I finally found a way to write this down, I hope that you like it. This isn’t my return to writing per se but I figured that you deserved a part two. Happy season 2 release day.

TW: mentions of death, not super serious.

———————————————————————

“Where’s Y/N?” Five asked. That question made the kitchen fall silent. No one dared to speak of their late sibling that they had all loved so much. The silence was deafening but it gave Five his answer.

“Oh, I see.”

———————————————————————

Vanya was the one who found him, staring at the portrait of himself that Reginald had requested 1 month after he left.

“Well nice to know that dad didn’t forget me.” He was trying to lighten the mood but it seemed as though it wasn’t possible. The two chatted for a while until they got to the subject of Ben.

“Was it bad?” He asked, Vanya nodded and he sighed. Two of his siblings were dead. Two of the sweetest, most kindhearted people in the universe had died. It wasn’t fair. He always knew that death never was fair, and he had grown to accept that, but not this time.

“Vanya, what happened to Y/N.” It was not a question, it was a statement. A demand for the truth about his siblings demise, there was no way to avoid it this way, she had to answer.

“They were down in the subway station late at night, there were two men fighting, Y/N was always a good mediator but it didn’t work this time.” Vanya’s voice became more and more shaky, she couldn’t look Five in the eye.

“They tried t-to stop them, but the o-o-one guy had a knife and he- he.” The words began to fail her, and they came out in the form of tears. Five was shocked, but he wanted more.

“What happened?” His tone slightly more dangerous.

“After the… after the knife what happened Vanya?” Through a pouring of tears she managed to get through the rest of the story.

“He realized what h-he had done and-and they both bolted, before anyone could catch them. Y/N tried calling for help but it was too late, he stabbed them j-just below their heart. The paramedics found them 15 minutes later, b-but they were gone.”

“We all searched for weeks for answers, leads, evidence, anything that we could find. But even between dad’s resources and Diego’s friends at the precinct, they had disappeared. Diego was so upset that he threw a staple gun at the police chiefs head, he nearly got arrested again.” Vanya’s tears had subsided for now, she gave a little chuckle at the end of her sentence, she knew that it was no laughing matter but she needed Five to know that they had tried to avenge you. That they had tried to find the man who killed you, because she knew that right now Five was angry. That he already had 5 different plans to find your killer and the bystander and make them pay for taking your life away before it had even begun. And she was right.

When she finished recounting the story she felt like she was going to collapse into a puddle. Those few months after your death were some of the hardest the family had gone through. Even though they hadn’t all spoken in years, you were always there for them. Sending them birthday presents or offering a shoulder to cry on.

You were there when Diego decided he wanted to try and get into the police academy, and you were there the first time he was arrested to bail him out. You were there when Luther was freaking out because he was going to the moon and was scared that he might not make it back. You were there when Allison announced her pregnancy to the world, she was so excited to be a mom and secretly planned to make you a godparent.

When Klaus first overdosed you were at the hospital by his side, praying that some part of his powers still worked despite all the drugs he had taken to get into this state in the first place. You were there at Ben’s funeral, you gave the most beautiful eulogy, everyone was focused on you and your words. You were there when Vanya asked you to go to her first therapy session with her, and you were also there when she first released her book.

Five of course didn’t know that any of this had happened, but even when you were kids you were there, whether he needed someone to rant to, read with or laugh with. You were there. And now you were gone. He didn’t even get to say goodbye.

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

After hearing about what happened to you he climbed the stairs to retire back to his room. He was angry, sad and alone. The last time he felt like this was when he realized he was stuck in the future, he felt stuck all over again. He knew that the apocalypse was coming, you were going to be the first one he told, but you weren’t here.

He opened the door to his childhood bedroom, everything was the same except for a pile of very old wrapped objects. He furrowed his brow, confused and walked into the room, closing his door. He sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed one of the objects, there was a small note on it, it read:

‘Happy Birthday Five! Love, Y/N 2014’

His heart nearly stopped when he read those words. These packages were all his birthday presents for the last 17 years, well 17 years for you. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a very old and very tattered bracelet with a little 5 on it. He had hidden it away in case he had lost it on a mission or worse, The Commission found it and tried to dispose of it. He found the oldest package and began to open the gifts.

17 years of lost memories, gifts that had never been opened and time that he could never get back. But nonetheless he carried on, opening and unwrapping each gift, with care. You had gotten him so many wonderful things and he planned to use (and read) them all.

In 1999 you had gotten him a book on the theory of time travel, in 2003 you had given him an extended copy of each of the Lord of The Rings movies (the note mentioned how they had to binge it together.) In 2010 you had gifted him ‘A Brief History of Time’ by Stephen Hawking, in 2013 he received a book that had a detailed description about Doctor Who for the last 50 years (the note said that “10 and 11 make me laugh the most, but 9 reminds me of you”), he immediately made a mental note to watch all of it after he stopped the apocalypse.

And then he came to the last present. It was a very small box, the wrapping paper had not yet faded as it was only from a year ago. Hands shaking he read the note:

‘Happy Birthday Five! I know that you don’t like stuff like this usually but maybe you’ll wear it for me. Love Y/N”

He slowly tore open the wrapping paper and opened the small black velvet box inside. The box contained a small charm of a book that was on a long chain. He felt his eyes start to water but he refused to let the droplets fall. He took it out and placed it around his neck, tucking it into his shirt. He was never going to take it off.

But he had to do one last thing.

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

“Where are they buried?” Five asked getting straight to the point. The siblings, who had all gathered in the living room at this point, were shocked for a second. They had all forgotten how blunt he was.

“Where is who buried?” Luther asked.

“Y/N” again the room was silent, until Diego spoke up.

“Just down the road, in that old cemetery, the one with the creepy ass mausoleum.” Allison rolled her eyes.

“Don’t say that Diego, it’s not creepy.”

“Oh yes it is” Klaus said, suddenly looking paler than usual.

“Fair enough, I’ll be back. There’s something that I need to do.” Five started walking towards the door.

“What about dad’s funeral!?!?” Luther yelled at him.

“I’ll be there don’t worry.” Five responded, and the door clicked behind him.

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

He could’ve just teleported there but he wanted to walk. When he arrived at the cemetery, he found where you were and just stopped. Your name was on the gravestone that was right in front of him. You really were gone.

He went down on one knee in front of the rock that had your name chiseled in it and just started talking.

“Hi, I have a lot of things to say but not a lot of time to say them.” He paused, took a deep breath in and then continued.

“Thank you for all my presents, and your notes, I especially loved the one from 2000 ‘Happy Birthday, the bookshop owners now know my name thanks to you and your gifts.’ It made me laugh.” There was silence, he decided to sit down next to the gravestone, and continued talking.

“The world is ending. And that’s not just a figure of speech, the world is literally ending. I came back here hoping to stop it with you and Vanya and the rest of them, only to find out that… you’re not here. You’re not… here.” He felt tears start to well in his eyes, but he kept going, even though his voice was breaking.

“You were always there for me. For us ALL of us. And now you’re gone and that’s not fair… THAT’S NOT FAIR!” His tears had started to pour down his face and this time he let them.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO NOW! YOU’RE GONE! YOU SAID THAT YOU WOULD ALWAYS BE HERE FOR ME BUT YOU’RE NOT! YOU’RE GONE! YOU LEFT ME!” He got so choked up that he had to take a second to calm down, and when he finally did he went on talking to you.

“Although I guess that I deserve it. I was so stupid, and I left you. I left you and you waited, you waited so patiently. Why couldn’t you have waited just a little longer, I was almost there. I almost found a way out, why couldn't you just stay out of it. Why did you have to be a hero? I guess you always were though.” He began to wipe away his tears and he chuckled a bit.

“You know I think that’s the first time I cried in over 40 years? You always brought out the soft side in me. I hated that about you. But you were always a good listener, so… thanks for listening to me now.” He got up to leave, dusting himself off. But before he left there was one more thing he had to do.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you” he could do this, he needed to do this.

“Happy birthday dear… Y/N… happy birthday to you.”

The Boy said goodbye.

@cheesiey @theambracer88

@leilanileemans @noriittheweeb @1985bitch

@lavender-writer @sparklydeanclampalace @emeliecyr @multifandomgirl16 @steampowerednightvaler @the-one-and-only-celine @ahwou @parkersinfinitywar @my-dark-happy-place @hailshurricane @multifxndom-umbrellxs @the-killer-queenie @rosehargreeves @georgique-unique @and-your-mother-that-slut @colourful48 @gabriella-superwholock-universe @give-a-rookie-a-cookie

[punkiepunzyl]

BLADE TO THE PULSE-

RZ!Michael Myers x Reader

Chapter 1:

Volunteer Hours Be Damned

—————————————————

1.de·lu·sion·al

/dəˈlo͞oZH(ə)nəl/

adjective

* characterized by or holding idiosyncratic beliefs or impressions that are contradicted by reality or rational argument, typically as a symptom of mental disorder.

2.psy·chot·ic

/sīˈkädik/

adjective

* psychotic

relating to, denoting, or suffering from a psychosis.

———————————————————

The first is even worst than the second

Because the second has the gall to be cruel when venting

The first is idiotic at best and naive at worst-

At least with the second you know it's only a matter of time

Before they burst...

———————————————————

"Yeah Mom, I know...I won't-ok...l-love you too. B-." Dial tone followed the abrupt ending to a call that had barely begun. Sighing I glanced up at the neon clock that dimly illuminated my half of the dorm room that I shared with my roommate Kat.

3:49 A.M.

'Why do I want to be a veterinarian again?' Groaning I let my head flop against the clammy light oak wood desk that was provided by the college- and immediately regretted the decision to be so reckless with my body as the tender tissue of my forehead throbbed violently.

"Fucking midterms," I whimpered'"I should've planned better for this." It wasn't that I didn't know the material- I knew it very well- it was my fragile 3.65 GPA, that was hanging in the balance, along with all of my scholarships.

Now here I was at- I glanced back up at the clock-

3:56 A.M.

On a Sunday night.

Suddenly tears of frustration pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I quickly pressed the heels of palms against my lids, because if I started crying now- I wouldn't be able to stop.

I glared at three textbooks spread out on the desk, that were equally judging me in their own way.

"Fuck it."

Dejectedly I closed my books and put them away in my backpack and decided to get ready for bed.

Shuffling sleepily across the 625 sq foot room I trudged past the shared area in the room and noticed the tv was still on, and began rummaging around attempting to locate the remote to turn off the waste of electricity; when then news report for earlier that night began to replay:

"Tonight, the small town of Haddonfield holds vigil for Judith Myers birthday. Judith Myers was 17 years old when she was killed by her 10 year old brother Michael Myers. Some 15 years later the community is still on shock. Judy would've been 32 this year. Michael is now 25 years old and is being held at the Smith's Grove Sanitarium-where he will live out the rest of his lif-"

Losing interest I turned of the tv (I heard about Michael every damn day from my mother), I resumed my nightly ritual of showering- dealing with my hair and picking out my outfit for next the next morning. When I did finally make it to my bed- the fatigue I'd been so keenly keeping at bay, washed over me and gently suffocated be down into the world of sleep.

———————————————————

1 WEEK LATER

———————————————————

Midterms went by smoother than anticipated and I felt a weight lift of my chest, as I made my way around campus. My biology professor Mrs. Whelhers had asked to speak with me regarding a matter for my thesis. And lack of volunteer hours. I looked up at the cloudless sky and sun filled my already impaired vision as I sped walked to the labs, certain that someone was going to jump me for walking alone. My rather feverish anxiousness seemed to roll over me in waves and I clung tighter to my leather crossbody messenger bag that was already digging painfully into my shoulder- the strap taut with the weight of my textbooks.

Luckily I finished my journey completely unscathed- and made my way over to my professors office.

"Mrs.Whelers?" I quietly knocked on the door before calling out again. "It's (Y/N)! You said you needed to speak to me regarding my thesis! I can come back if n-"

Mid sentence the door swung open to reveal a very VERY hungover Mrs.Whelers. I simply stared at her, dumbfounded as I attempted to make sense of her disheveled appearance.

She had heavy purple bags under her eyes- which were rimmed a violent red around her amber irises. Her usually neat strawberry blonde hair looked it was attacked by birds on her way to work, and as for her clothes the were wrinkled. I'd spotted more than on fraying hem and food stain along her skirt and sleeves of her chiffon blouse.

"M-Mrs.Wheler? Are you all right?" I murmured then proceeded to reiterate

What I'd stupidly said a few moments before. "If now isn't a good time for you I would gladly come back another day."

But deep down I also knew that my thesis would be due within the next 5 months and therefore I really couldn't dodge around whatever necessary information she had for me. Especially if it had to do with my volunteering.

Instead the 60 year old woman shook her head and gestured for me to enter the office and waved with a shaky left hand- her wedding ring gleaming in the sunlight that lazily drifted through the tall windows in her office.

Mrs.Whelers began speaking as she sat down, but her words fell on distracted,deaf ears. I'd begun drinking the appearance of the office, all rich maple built in that showed hints of a reddish glow under their glossy finish. 

My professor sighed heavily and immediately I was snapped out of my little trance. My eyes blurred, suddenly watery and after blinking hard to avoid a wave of exhaustion- they refocused with the  precision of a camera lens behind my harsh prescription glasses. 

"I-I'm sorry, could you repeat that...I was a bit caught up in a thought." I mumbled embarrassed that I'd allowed myself to be distracted so easily. Mrs.Whelers looked me up and down cautiously, her eyes narrowing slightly as though she was trying to read the fine print on a document. I stared back at her sheepishly, eyes meeting hers then flitting away nervously. 

I've always been this way when it came to eye contact- skittish and desperate to get away from it. If someone stares at me for too long- I begin to sweat profusely, nausea washing over me like a tsunami...then suddenly my skin feels like its on fire and I'll attempt to find anything on my body to pick at; my face, my arms, my nails, and by the end of it all I'm covered in nicks and scars from my own impulsiveness.

"I was saying Ms.(Y/L/N), that the volunteer hours needed along side your associates thesis are incomplete. Failure to complete said volunteer hours will result in the inability to graduate this upcoming June with the rest of class. More importantly- you will have to redo this past semester, out of your own pocket, your scholarship won't cover you."

"But that'a completely unfair!" I began to protest jumping up almost instantaneously. "I couldn't find the proper volunteer work, every clinic in a 50 mile radius was full for the next THREE MONTHS! I tried every which way possible to squeeze in somewhere; no exceptions could be made!" 

"Unfortunately Ms.(Y/L/N) that isn't my problem- you either find a way to make up the time- in a way that would be approved by the school, or you don't graduate this June. That's final." 

I felt tears swell in my eyes and rushed to grab my bag; I had every intention to run out the door before Mrs.Whelers put a hand on my shoulder to stop me. 

"I didn't call you here to be the bearer of bad news, I wanted to talk about what options you may have; that have been pre-approved by the board..."

I sniffled sitting back down in the white leather arm chair that was seated in front of Mrs.Whelers’ desk. "You already spoke to the board?"

"Yes, they were quite curious as to why a student that has managed to be in the top of her class the past two years, hasn't completed something as simple as her volunteer hours. They realized rather quickly it must've had something to do with the availably of hours, and came up with another idea."

I glanced up at her curiously, "Which is?"

She began to pace around behind her desk as she spoke,"Well considering spring break begins at the end of this Friday- and you will be home for the next week-"

I opened my mouth to tell her there where no clinics back at home that did volunteer work for college students-but she waved a hand dismissively before I could.

"We at the board decided that we would like for you start a branch of animal therapy at Smith's Grove, we know your mother works- so she could be a guide to helping you with patients at first, but this could look really good for your transcripts. What do you think?"

I considered the offer momentarily- I knew getting Mother to agree wouldn't be an issue in the slightest- she’d been trying to get me to work with her at Smith’s for years...

“I could speak to her about it.” I said definitively then added “I’ll email you if she approves of the arrangement.” With a soft smile I moved once more to grab my messenger crossbody and sling it over my shoulder.

“Should your mother accept the boards offer for your volunteer hours I will message to board directly on your behalf, alright?” Mrs. Whelers said leading me to the door. As she opened it I nodded as I passed by- relieved that this problem would most likely have a solution and as long as I completed my 100 hours of volunteer work in the next week, my scholarship and graduation that lie a few months ahead will be safe...

“Have a good spring break (Y/N)!”

“You too Mrs.Whelers...”

Volunteer hours be damned...

***********************************************

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of Blade to the Pulse ☺️. I already have the next few chapters planned so expect an update within the next week or two...

[eccl3ctic0n3]

This Is My Personal Testimony of How God Found Me When I Was Lost.

I Am A Witness and My Testimony is of Jesus Christ the living Word of God

What you FEEL and what you THINK are valid and extremely powerful as these are the things you BELIEVE to be TRUTH thus this is your REALITY!

This is your belief system. Unless you suffer from mental illness therapy and counseling can be very helpful. Just talking about it and getting it off your chest is therapeutic in itself. No matter if it is a friend or a therapists getting things out instead of bottling them up and holding them in is great relief.

I was diagnosed bipolar type I when I was 23 years old. I am 41 now and it has only been in the last 5 years that I have been able to overcome, heal, grow, and experience breakthrough.

Traumatic experiences such as verbal, mental, emotional, physical, or sexual abuse to losing a loved one or friend has a lifelong affect. Therapy and medicine are just tools to help you and give you the skills, knowledge, and some understanding, so you can cope and learn how to manage with the pain and symptoms that remain.

I don't know who needs to hear this but I am telling you from 18 years of personal experience. Actually, 41 years as its only been 18 since I began treatment. Where doctors and medicine failed me for 13 years God did not fail me. I got lab ratted on all that time with powerful psychiatric medications. I spiraled out of control and my behavior landed me in the psychiatric ward of prison in the infirmary. 10 weeks I was locked in solitary confinement on 24 hour lock. I was deemed incompetent and unfit to stand trial. I was looking at two F1 Felonies with sentences from 5-99 years each. For 10 weeks I literally lost my mind and was experiencing full blown psychosis. It was in an instant that God found me and restored me to sanity. I did not find God. He found me.

I was lost and could not tell the difference between my dreams and reality. I slept in 15 minute intervals. In one dream I dreamt that I murdered my two children. I bashed my daughters head into the wall. My reality was this place I was in where no other person is visible was like a purgatory and I was awaiting my judgment to be thrown into hell.

I was on my knees in my boxers bleeding from my head and knuckles. I was head butting and punching the walls. As I was on my knees I was singing, ''My Girl, My Girl, Talkin Bout, My Girl." I was only thinking of my daughter and that I was never going to see her again.

The guy in a cell next to me screamed, " Shut the fuck up!" I just screamed back and told him to come on over and shut me up. What was he going to do we are in solitary confinement. 😅

I lost track of time and I was still singing and I began to cry out to God. Literally bawling and begging I screamed for God to help me. Don't you know the guy who cursed me came to my door and asked me to call his momma for him to bail him out. I laughed and said ain't you the same mother fucker who told me to shut up? Before he answered I just said whatever! Just write the number on a piece of paper and slide it under my door and I will get to it.

Mind you that for those 10 weeks I could not even read or use the telephone because I just didn't know how. The hands on the clock just spun round and round. Still on my knees sobbing I noticed the piece of paper slide under my door. I forgot all about it and I couldn't read or use a phone anyway. But I looked closer and I seen the red writing. This guy tore the last page of his bible out to write the number on. The red writing just caught my eyes and the first thing I seen was this. Revelations 22:16 I Jesus, have sent My angel to you to testify in the churches. I am the Root and Offspring of David, the Bright and Morning Star. As fast as you could snap your fingers I realized that I could read first of all. I then noticed I felt completely normal. I was just wondering wtf am I doing in my boxers bleeding on this floor? 😅 I got up took a shower and cleaned up. The guard came by and stopped giving me a strange look and asked if I was ok. I just said Im fine Im waiting on lunch its almost noon. I could read the time cause the hands stopped spinning.

Finally I got to use the phone and I called home and asked how long I was there. I said 2 weeks? My mom said you been there almost 3 months. I did 6 months and got both charges dropped down to a misdemeanor and 4 years probation. 2 years was deferred. I literally signed out of jail on a PR Bond. No fines, fees, or court costs at all.

That was 5 years ago in October. I never could forget or deny what happened. I knew immediately what the verse meant and what I was told to do. So I have done it this entire time everyday almost on social media.

I had never read a bible before and I was far away from God. I was really on the fence about the whole Jesus thing. What I know now and I knew at that moment was this. Jesus is God! He is the Father, the Son of God, and the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of God and of Christ. There is only one. Omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, and Sovereign Lord over all of creation.

I believe the words of the verse exactly for what they said. He sent an angel to me which is a ministering spirit and a messenger. I got the message loud and clear. So I do exactly as He has told me to.

It has been 5 years and I have not even had a cold. My doctor is weaning me off medications. It was by no means an easy 5 years at all. I suffered with overcoming addiction and the mental illness symptoms I was and still am learning to cope and manage.

There is one thing I learned in addition to all these things since then in talk therapy. I was raised by two narcissistic, one mentally ill, and completely abusive except sexually.

After all those years and all those medications and numerous doctors did not do for me what the Great Physician did in a moment of time.

Don't get me wrong. God has revealed to me that He has gifted these doctors, nurses, therapists, and the scientists or chemists that make these medications. Give or take these crooked sons of bitches.

Just know that God is Hope. Faith or Belief and any good thing at all about man is of God. He is Love. How is Jesus God? All things are possible with God. Just trust Him. Don't worry or be afraid. He has commanded us to be strong and courageous for He is with us wherever we go. He will never leave us or forsake us. He is faithful to keep His word. If He said it. He meant it. It is the Truth. Jesus said His words are Spirit and Truth. These words are Life and Jesus is the Way. The one and only true living God is the living Word of God. He was manifest in the flesh. The holy bible has been tampered with by man and today even more with hundreds of versions. However, man is foolish to think he could ever stop the Power of the Spirit and Truth that is the Word of God Jesus Christ.

Is the Father the Son or the Spirit? Is He 3 in one or one in 3? Don't split hairs with vain debates and argumentative subjects that no man can answer. There are simply things of God that man will never understand. Our finite minds cannot imagine, fathom, dream, or even comprehend the great things of God. He just said don't trip. I got this. Be still and know. Trust Me and Believe In Me. Have Faith! Never give up Hope. Without Hope this Life has no purpose and we have meaning at all. There is just certain death. Then we are worm food.

If it is all just a big story and we die only to find out that's it just black and nothing then fine with me. If we die and it is true and we chose not to simply believe and have the faith the size of a mustard seed. We'd be cursing ourselves not God from hell forever. We would know He was right and we have no defense or a word to say before the righteous Judge.

Life and death. Facts. Choose life or death. It is the most logical, reasonable, sane, and simple choice for anyone in their right mind. So anyone who says its blind faith and completely disregards facts, logic, or reason. You know just as God says. He has used the foolishness of this world for His wisdom. He makes those who are wise in their own eyes, puffed up with pride, and too stubborn or hard hearted to simply admit they do not know. Men fear what they do not know. Rightfully so. You should fear God. Both revere and be a very afraid of the One that can take your life and cast your soul into hell. He gives and takes away. Simple as that.

So remember no matter what the situation or circumstances shit is just temporary. All good things must come to an end. As do the bad. So suck it up, be strong and courageous. Has He not commanded us? He is with you wherever and nothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus.

To anyone suffering right now I am by no means minimizing your pain. I feel you 1000% You don't have to believe a word from me. Just know there is someone who is always with you and you are not helpless or alone. You may be weak and in complete darkness that seems like hell. God is light in the darkness. He has the keys to death and hell. So weather life or death, heaven or hell. You gotta trust and believe in Jesus. If not it is your own doing. Most of our problems are self inflicted we bring em on ourselves.

This may be the hardest part for me to tell someone in depression just dwelling and can't let go. Do you know what depression is. It is YOUR THOUGHTS and YOUR FEELINGS. It is therefore YOUR BELIEF and thus YOUR REALITY!

This is self-centeredness. Depression for a while that is justified is one thing. Wallowing in SELF-PITY with the attitude WOE IS ME. MY LIFE SUCKS and nobody understands or knows what I I I am going through. No one could possibly relate to YOUR SUPERIOR PROBLEMS! GET OUT OF YOURSELF for a while. Have an attitude of gratitude. You are alive and if you can feel emotions and you woke up today then you KNOW that you are alive. LIFE is a gift from of GOD. He so loved all of us that He GAVE HIS LIFE so that anyone who BELIEVES in HIM Should Not Perish...SHOULD NOT! But HAVE RIGHT NOW AS IN THIS PRESENT MOMENT. EVERLASTING LIFE. God gave us HOPE of ETERNAL LIFE the FREE GIFT of SALVATION is the LORD OUR GOD JESUS CHRIST the ONLY BEGOTTEN of the EVERLASTING FATHER the King of Israel is the Holy One (Christ) or Anointed (Messiah) our SAVIOR and REDEEMER. Not by might nor by power but by that Holy Spirit of PROMISE which is the PLEDGE of our inheritance.

The only reason one would die when God gave us His Life so that anyone whomsoever at all Believes. The Way is the Truth and He has become our Salvation. He is the very HOPE, FAITH, and LOVE that abides forever. LOVE being the greatest. No one SHOULD die. It is a choice!!! Just like you choose to wake up and be grateful saying Thank You God. Bless you Lord Jesus for the Spirit translated "Breath or Air" of Life and the LIGHT we all see and we have heard the word of God preached and proclaimed to us all. So no one has an excuse to even say I Dont Believe! That is our free will and choice. Another gift from God. He wants you to choose Jesus and dont worry but be happy. Rejoice!! Make some noise!! God is good all the time. All the time God is good. We all have a reason for the very BREATH of LIFE that was blown into Adam's nostrils and he became a living soul. Adam just means man. Human. In His image and likeness. Male and female created He them. If you believe in Jesus and the Good News aka Gospel of the Kingdom and Eternal Life you have every reason on every Day the Lord has made to be grateful and choose to be happy. The Eternal One is the Alpha and Omega. The Ancient of Days is the First and the Last. The Almighty. Beginning and End. Genesis to Revelation. Death and Life He gives and takes away.

I pray you don't waste another moment having a pity party if you don't have an actual reason to be stuck feeling sad for an excessive period of time. It is selfish. Ungrateful.

Your THOUGHTS and FEELINGS are powerful. They are YOURS though. You and you alone have a God given free gift of grace to Think for yourself and Regulate or Control Your Feelings and Emotions. It takes time and it's a process of growing up and becoming a man or woman. He has not given us a spirit of fear, but of POWER, LOVE, AND A SOUND MIND. SELF DISCIPLINE your MIND. We have the MIND of Christ. The Spirit of God and of Christ. The Kingdom of heaven is within. God the Father, the Lord Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit is all within. What does it say? The Word is near to you, in your heart, even in your mouth.

It is Finished!

Revelation 22:16 21st Century King James Version (KJ21)

16 “I, Jesus, have sent Mine angel to testify unto you these things in the churches. I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the Bright and Morning Star.”

Isaiah 44:6-8 21st Century King James Version (KJ21)

6 “Thus saith the Lord, the King of Israel, and his Redeemer, the Lord of hosts: I am the First, and I am the Last, and besides Me there is no God.

7 And who, as I, shall call and shall declare it, and set it in order for Me, since I appointed the ancient people? And the things that are coming and shall come, let them show unto them.

8 Fear ye not, neither be afraid. Have not I told thee from that time and have declared it? Ye are even My witnesses. Is there a God besides Me? Yea, there is no God. I know not any.”

[basil223]

Queer Girl Rambles pt.1

(If you don’t like long stories that could be said in only a few sentences, skip this. It’s a winding road, so either get in the car and drive with me, or skip the party)

I’m a recently self accepted Queer person. I realized I was a homosexual a little over a year ago and it took a bit for me to be comfy with that. And then I decided I’d download the Her app. It was beginning of lockdown (although if you had asked me then I would have said it was mid lockdown, so I guess this qualifier doesn’t really matter), and I, as a socially out, but familial closeted person decided that talking to women on a dating app might give me a chance to spread my little gay wings.

It took about 20 minutes but a girl, let’s call her Hannah, messaged me. She was funny and actually held a conversation, and Hannah made it very very clear that she thought I was beautiful and that had COVID not been a thing, she would have asked me on a date.

I was shocked, delighted, and baffled. A woman? Liked me? I had never felt desirable before then. No one had ever actively pursued my attention before ~at least, in a respectful way~I was excited.

But here’s some things you’ve got to know. I am a college student. I am a college student who struggles with school. I am a college student who struggles with anxiety. I am a college student who’s main goal is to graduate with possible grades and this is her one try main focus. And most importantly I am a college student who is trying their best.

Sounds normal right?

I get busy, everyone does. Over the next week, Hannah and I seemed to be playing phone tag. One of us would respond, and then along while later the other would. Eventually we exchanged Snapchat’s.

Ok. More backstory...at the time I was taking summer classes, which is essentially a 3 month course jammed into a 4-6 week period. I was taking not only Physicsand Physics lab, but I was also taking Calculas. A class I had failed, in a normal term, twice already. My strengths are not in math or science but I had to take these to keep my graduation date from pushing back. For MANY reasons, it was one of the most anxiety ridden summers I’d ever had. But I handled myself. I’d gone to therapy a few years before, and I had some therapist sanctioned coping mechanisms, and some self taught ones. For example. Spoons. You have 20 spoons a day and you can spend them on whatever you like. Some tasks take more spoons than others, but you only get 20. So use them well. At the time, school was about 15 spoons. Staying closeted during a pandemic and social movements in a southern conservative home took up 4. Which left me about one spoon to spend. Most days this was spent laying on the floor with my puppies or attempting to keep in contact with my ride or die friends. Because that’s one of my self taught coping mechanisms, which may not be healthy or not. But when I reach my capacity, I shut out the world. I cannot respond to texts or calls or, anything. And at this point in my life, my friends understand that. If they don’t hear back from me, I don’t HAVE to worry about upsetting them( I mean I still worry but as I said. Anxiety). At the very least I can just text them spoons and they get it. I try to respond as fast as possible but sometimes things get pushed back a few days.

Anyway, back to the story. We had been snap chatting a bit, at least everyday, but it wasn’t the same. I began to notice that Hannah never seemed to talk about herself. I’d ask her questions about herself but I’d get very little information. And she’d quickly turn the convo back to me. And let me tell you. There is only so much of talking about my own life that I can do. I tried using convorsation starters or asking her opinions on things I had never experience but she had, and...still she gave little information and turned it back to me. It was frustrating, but I accepted it. Maybe she wasn’t as good a conversationalist as I first thought. And another thing I noticed was that she never seemed to be able to chat with me first. I was the one who had to initiate it first. One day I decided that I wasn’t going to message first. A few hours go by and I see on her story that she posted a meme about people not texting people. It seemed weird but I thought, no can’t be about me. The next week I tried it again. The meme was way more pointed and most could argue passive aggressive. I called her out on it, and told her if she wanted to talk to me, she didn’t have to wait for me to do it. She agreed said she’d do that. ~stage whispers~ she didn’t.

These passive aggressive story posts would continue for,gosh a half a year now. If I didn’t text her for a stretch there would be a post on her story about it. It got to a point where I wouldn’t open her stories or even Snapchat at all.

In December I got an internship, which is essentially a full time job and it’s expected I take night classes to accommodate this (it’s part of my major so it sounds crazy but I swear it’s normal). I was anxious and it’s been a huge learning curve. Throughout this time, I would off and on respond to her texts, I’d tell her how the internship was going all that jaz. But there would be days where my spoons we spent and most defiantly not on her. Her call out posts increased. My anxiety got real bad and her posts only made things worse. So eventually her messages sat in my inbox, unread, for 3 weeks. I contemplated never opening them. But I felt bad. I opened them and reexplained why I couldn’t answer in a timely mannor, apologized for the unintentional ghosting, and made it very clear that if she wished to continue texting me, that I couldn’t promis a prompt response. She said “don’t worry about it. I get it. Just remember to text me when you’ve got time!”

Last week J hit, and while Im still not comfy with what was going on in my job and life, I was mentally able to make a rare Snapchat story about getting to pick music at work.

I still didn’t have a lot of spoons to answer her, so her comment on my story sat untouched in my inbox till tonight.

Tonight I found the courage to leave a groupme of people I am no longer friends with. And I opened Snapchat to leave our Snapchat groupchat, when I began to think about Hannah. Because there on her story was another call out post. I had just left groupchat a of toxic people and yet here I was clinging to a girl who made me feel so bad about spending my spoons. Who could not, for whatever reason, have an adult behavior about her feelings and what she wanted and needed out of our “friendship”. I decided I’d remove and block her. I don’t need this in my life.

But her unopened messages were still there. I opened them. There on my screen was Hannah’s response to my week old Snapchat about picking music. The gist of the message? “Looks like your not to busy to post on Snapchat”

All my guilt and remorse flew out the window, and Hannah was immediately blocked from my life.

Why did I wait this long to boot her out? I think it’s because she was the first, and so far the only woman to show interest in me. And I was scared that by blocking her, I was giving up my proof of gayness. Her interest made me feel more valid in my identity.

But that’s the thing. My identity is MINE. And it took my first year of Gay to understand what that meant. I am queer. And that is not dependent on if someone of my sex finding me attractive. That is not dependent of somone giving me attention. I will not be giving others the power to hold my identity hostage anymore