#like A Lot of it

[whatmattersisyou]

It hurts

[ananinidraws]

Based on that one meme

He's fine guys, don't worry

More doodles under the cut

A bunch of kissing sketches (that got... a bit more heated than intended. listen i promised it started out wholesome with the bottom ones, but then i blacked out and whoops /silly)

I do not know how to draw kisses 😔

[penvisions]

zest {chapter four}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Time is a funny thing, isn't it? You and Joel traverse the ups and downs of the pregnancy, doing your best to keep up.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: canon typical language, reader is canonically mid-size and of hispanic origin, adult content, smut, oral (f receiving), use of daddy, age gap, utter filth between two infatuated people, p in v, unprotected p in v, pet names (darling, baby, love), teasing as a form of flirting -they're insufferable your honor, serious conversations, confessions of feelings of inadequacy, mentions of family trauma and drama, reader is in her own head in this, talks of pregnancy and childbirth, slight angst, road trip vibes, slight time jump(s), the photos used in the header are only a rough head cannon of what reader looks like and mostly for the ~vibes - nothing is set in absolute stone, i think that's it!

Fic Notes: this is a sequel series; the previous fic can be found here -> {garnish}

A/N: so proud of myself for not forcing this chapter, letting it sit and my mind wander about them as a whole for a few months really helped me to find my way back to them. special shoutout to @tuquoquebrute for sending in an ask ages ago for a baby shower scene, i hope it's everything you imagined and more

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The hotel room is bathed in soft pink sunlight that glows through the drawn curtains, closed in the wake of your slight headache. But it’s the last thing on your mind as you let out a low, drawn-out moan. Your back is flush with the soft bed, unmade and the sheets are tangled and falling off the edge of it as Joel is nestled in them. Using them as a cushion for his knees atop the plush carpet of the room, just for an added comfort as he firmly holds your hips in place lavishes his tongue in swooping swirls over your clit.

You’re drenched, slick coating his lips and face as he buries it between your thighs. His grip tight around your thighs as he holds them open, ever so effortlessly keeping them from snapping shut around his ears as he practically makes out with your core. It’s messy the way your arousal seeps from you, coating his face, his saliva mixed in and running in thick drips down to soak the white sheets of the hotel bed.

The feel of his warm tongue tracing over your puffy lips and swollen nub, his thick fingers curled inside you and hitting that perfect spot that makes you clench tightly around them. The feel of his proud nose buried in the thatch of thick curls that sit right above it all, soaked too from the devotion he’s giving to you as the sun begins to peek up above the horizon.

The swell of your stomach prevents you from seeing anything other than the sweaty curls plastered to his forehead, the heat in the room and between your humming bodies stifling in the best way.

“My sweet girl, always taste so fucking good.” He pulls pleasure from your body like it’s his sole purpose in life, gently moving his fingers in and out as you throw your head back to shout out his name and clench tightly around them. His tongue replaces them as he licks up the release that smears across your inner thighs, scruff tingling over your skin in an overwhelming way.

“Ah, Joel, ‘s too much, baby.” He moves you up into the center of the bed, crawling over you. The heft of his cock drags over your thighs, smearing glistening precum as it does. And you whine, as he takes himself in the thick curl of his hand and taps the swollen head against your clit. Your hips jerk, you clench around nothing and his dark chuckle

“I think you like it,” He’s dragging himself through your slick folds, head catching just slightly against your entrance each time he does.

“F-fuck off,” You can’t help but slur, the empty threat cut off in a sharp gasp as he suddenly fills you, hands gripping around your knees to wrap them around his waist. He throbs where he’s nestled, and it makes your head swim.

“That’s such bad language, momma,” He tuts, teeth glinting as he smirks down at you. “Why don’t I work it all out of you before the baby comes, hmm?”

"Y-yes, daddy."

All you can do is dig your nails into his shoulders and hold on for dear life as he begins to snap his hips into the cradle of yours, pushing you both up the length of the bed with the force of his movements. In the back of your mind, you’re sure the people on the other side of the wall must hate your guts for being the annoying couple who can’t seem to keep their hands off of each other.

But honestly, you couldn’t care less. You’d take being the annoyingly smitten couple over being the one where sex becomes a routine, choreographed dance that takes place Tuesday nights with no lights on and underneath the covers. You’d take Joel at his most feral and spilling filth from sinfully delicious lips to the soft, slow and syrupy mornings any time, any day, for the rest of your life.

“Joel, I just really wanna go home, take a nice hot bath and get into bed before I have to start planning out the summer semester syllabus.” You feel the fatigue of the trip catching up with you, no matter how much fun it had been. The perfect little getaway has drained you as you enter your second trimester, body working overtime now, but thankfully the nausea seems to have worn off.

Beside you, Joel reaches out a hand to palm your thigh, understanding and concern wafting off of his focused frame in such an easy way. His brows furrow as he glances down at his phone in the cupholder when the screen flashes with a notification.

“C’mon, just lemme stop at the restaurant to grab somethin’ real quick. Check on Ellie, she’s been blowing up my phone about when we get back.” His voice holds your attention more than his words, it’s dipped low, almost a deep whine as he takes your hand in his and raises it to press a kiss to the top of it.

Your new ring catches the sunlight and softens you just as much as the man’s words. He’s such a good father, to the two kids he’s raised all alone. He’s a good man, who even if he prolongs the return to the house, who only wants to look out for those in his care.

“Joel,” You can’t help the whine of your own voice, lips pouting as the man turns a conflicted expression your way as his fingers tighten where they tangle with yours.

“I’ll make it worth your while, darlin’, please?”

“Fine, but I want truffle pasta for dinner.” You jostle his hand in yours, setting them atop your thigh.

“Done.”

Half an hour later, he pulls up to the front of the restaurant, parking the truck on the curb outside the public entrance. He rolls the windows down and you do a double take. There are colorful balloons floating in the gentle breeze, bouncing against each other. They make you smile even as you remember what a hassle parties were as a member of the food industry. You only hope that those on shift were adequately caffeinated and compensated for the hell they were about to endure.

Joel disappears through the front entrance, little bell dinging happily and he’s not gone but one second before he’s at the passenger door. He’s pulling it open from the unlocked handle, looking at you with a small smirk through the lowered pane of glass as you enjoy the breeze through the open window.

“Sweet girl, need you to step in for a second.”

“I’m all road tripped out, dios mio, Joel.” You groan out, really just wanting to be back him and swaddled in clean, fluffy blankets. “I need a bath and some serious skincare.”

He only raises a thick brow and you motion to the slightly wrinkled sundress you’re wearing, the slight bump of your stomach visible beneath the flowing fabric and the seatbelt over your lap. Your hair is pulled up into a haphazard clip in the back with the grown out fringe you had cut over the holidays framing your face. He promises that you look good, the light face of tinted lotion and mascara you put on alongside a natural lip good enough for what he wanted to show you.

Grumbling, you retrieve you phone from the center console beside his. Both phones are pushed into the hands that help you to step out and down from the taller cab.

“Better not be your way of getting me to-“ Your thoughts of helping to check over a liquor purchase fly out the window as soon as your eyes catch the bright scene laid out before you.

Your mouth falls open as you walk through the door being held open by Joel. The entire dining room is done up with sage green tablecloths, more balloons, and fresh flowers are everywhere from the center of the tables to the ledge of the bar. There’s a giant banner over the wall that houses the door to the kitchen. Donning the words ‘CONGRATS ON GETTING KNOCKED UP’. Below it is another slightly smaller one that says ‘AND GETTING ENGAGED TOO, I GUESS’. You snort at the phrasing, knowing that it had to have been a battle at the printers to get it done. And when you breathe air back into your lungs, the smell of fried food makes your stomach growl. Your face breaks out into a wide grin when you see Sarah and Ellie approaching you with their own wide smiles.

They’ve got a crown of flowers, you favorite. Sarah fixes your hair, loose from the clip it had been in and Ellie fastens it in place with a few bobby pins.

“Ready to celebrate, cause we sure as hell are!” Ellie exclaims while Sarah jumps up and down in front of you both, buzzing with energy she seems to have endlessly.

It’s a blur of greetings and photos, of laughter and mocktails. Your hunger from the drive forgotten as you just enjoy the time with your friends and acquired family. Maria and Tommy are floating around alongside the girls to ensure everything is going smoothly, soft music playing over the speakers and presents are placed on their own table. There are so many and you feel choked up over the outpouring of love and support from the community you found in a city so far away from the one you come from.

A lot of the staff from the restaurant are here too, the tightly knit group of about twenty or so from the kitchen staff to the servers. All showing their appreciation and excitement for you and Joel as you navigate this part of your lives. It means so much to you that they didn’t judge you for leaving them to do what you wanted, for focusing on yourself and landing the teaching job you always wanted.

Sure, the timing isn’t right. You’ve only done two semesters, going into a third summer one in a few weeks, but you will make it work. Either offer an online course once your maternity leave is up or even take Joel up on his offer to cut his hours to weekends so he can look after the little one during your proposed class times once you decide to go back to work. Who knows? All of it needs to be discussed, and you’re slowly wading through the conversations as they crop up and thoughts are had.

No pressure, he said. To talk about things unless you wanted to and you pressed the same assurance into his skin with your whispered words.

After the first hour or so, you’re seated with Millie and your best friend at an empty table. Both of them gifting you cards with promises to babysit and bring you takeout any time you needed it as you traverse the remainder of your pregnancy and once the baby is born.

“Look at you, hot momma. Landed the head chef and a baby all in one move. You guys are going to have the cutest fucking baby.” Nia caresses a hand over your shoulder, her nails a light scratch over your skin that feels really good as small waves of anxiety begin to wash over you. She knows, she can see it. Has always been able to see it, you lean into her, resting your head on her shoulder as she pivots to wrap her arms around you. “You deserve it, you deserve everything.”

“Do you know what the gender is yet?” Millie is smiling at the casual intimacy you both display, thinking back to all the nights you two displayed the same after a rough shift, all the smoke breaks and nights out that you shared. Friendship melting her heart, your happiness melting her heart after seeing what a rough year you had endured before this.

“We find out later this week, my blood work came back a little funky last time so instead of an ultrasound, they hooked me up to an IV and told me to rest for a bit while they monitored some stuff.”

“It’s the stuff from your dad’s side, isn’t it?” Nia’s arms tighten around you, worries spoken knowing the things you don’t like to share.

“Yeah, but it’s nothing to worry about. I’m pretty sure it was just elevated blood pressure which for me would be a normal reading and my blood sugar was a little high. They worry about diabetes, but she said my body is just trying to figure out how to process things and find a new balance with this little one taking up so much room now.” You hold a hand to your stomach, gently rubbing at the hardness you feel there now. Soft curves make up your frame, but your stomach is swollen a little more than typical for your physique, giving away the pregnancy now.

“He looks so grumpy.” Mille giggles around her sip of tonic water with grenadine. You follow her gaze and see Joel standing over the table covered in dishes and desserts. His hands are on his hips and he’s frowning as he dissects all the offerings. He almost seems lost in thought with the way his lips purse and roll, pulling a giggle from you too.

“That’s the ‘there ain’t nothin’ here I wanna eat’ look.”

At your stage whispered words, he looks up over at you and his brow furrows even deeper. You haven’t wandered over to the table yourself but he quickly looks back down at it as your trio breaks into a full on fit of laughter. He begins making a plate before heading your way and you try to school your expression even as your heart picks up a tick.

“Gonna make you that pasta you wanted, but here’s a few things to tide you over, momma.” And he’s setting the laden ceramic down with a wink before moving back across the dining room to disappear through the swinging door into the kitchen.

“He calls you momma? Oh my god, swoon.” Nia fans herself with her napkin as she looks your way.

“Do you ever call him ‘daddy’?” Millie’s question is conspiratorial as she leans in, as if afraid he might hear her even through the walls and light hum of conversation that fills the room.

You quickly help yourself to the food he brought over, avoiding both their eyes as you do so. Heat flares high in your cheeks and down your neck, the word bringing up memories that glitter across your skin.

“Oh. My. God. You do.” Nia sets her drink down and stares at you in awe.

“I mean, I would call him daddy if he asked me to.” Millie whispers as she sneaks a chocolate covered strawberry from your plate.

“He didn’t have to ask me.” Is all you say around a mouthful of food at the same time Nia exclaims that’s her boss.

“He started off as this one’s boss too!” She defends, her reprimand falling short as her expression cracks and giggles erupt into the air.

“Yeah, that was part of the fun.” You smirk, remembering the first time it slipped from between your lips as his body moved in tandem with yours. It had only made him growl and pick up the pace, you feel the shock of pleasure at the memory lights you up and you excuse yourself to cross the room with your plate in hand.

“She’s so gonna go make out with her daddy in the kitchen.”

“Girl, I would to if that was my man, fuck I need to get me some of what she’s obviously having. Minus the baby though.”

“Hey, momma, ready to get going?” Joel is gently wiping the excess gel from your exposed belly from the ultrasound you just had. He’s quiet, mind whirling at the news of having a boy. Something that had made your heart swell when you pictured a little toddler version of the man with unruly curly hair and a gap-toothed smile so wide you had gasped when the technician had made the announcement.

“I don’t know anything about boys.” You blurt out, worry and excitement swirling around in your chest and heart. You would’ve been happy with any gender but you find yourself so enthralled at the realization of having a boy. A baby boy. Pudgy cheeks, scraped knees, strong little hands, and then a harsh kick has your hand flying to sooth the ache as it prickles low in your stomach almost like a cramp.

“Oof, felt that one. He’s a little spitfire like his momma, ain’t he?” The vibration of Joel’s chuckle is heartwarming, he’s over the moon. His brown eyes glitter as he looks up at you and you realize he’s got unshed tears in his eyes.

“Joel, I don’t know anything about boys.” You admit in a low voice, worry striking up and beginning to wright down your limbs.

“That’s okay, we can figure it out together.” And his smile is dazzling, teeth glinting in the fluorescents and the dimple in his right cheek is visible beneath his stubble. Even as a few tears brim over and race down his face.

The rest of the day is spent picking out a pastel green and honey gold combination for the nursery. The cart is full of supplies needed for painting and a bulky box of baby proofing effects for the house. He steers it around the garden section of the hardware store as you drift among the plants, trailing fingers faintly over the leaves as you inspect them. It’s a little late for any planting to be done, but he’s agreed to grab a few ferns to place in the room to give it some life until the one it’s being decorated for comes along.

Paint-stained hands wander over ruined clothing as chaste kisses turn heated. Joel licks into your mouth as he pins you to the last white wall of the room across from the one you share upstairs. Your moan is loud and unfiltered as he slots a knee between your legs and grinds it up into the seam between your legs. Your dress doing nothing to shield you from the movement against your core, the rough denim a heady feel through the fabric of your underwear.

“Love the sounds you make, sabrosa.” The timbre of Joel’s voice vibrates through your chest and you sneak your nails underneath the collar of his shirt to dig into his bare shoulders. “Fuck, you sound so fucking good, you drive me crazy.”

“G-good.” You wheeze out just as one of his hands pulls the thin strap of your dress down off your shoulder and kisses the exposed skin around the smears of pain he pressed there. His teeth nip and suck all the way to your chest, where he pulls one of your breasts over the fabric. He swirls his tongue around your nipple, his eyes dilating at the sight of how it hardens and perks up under his attention. When his teeth clamp around the sensitive bud, a yelp sounds into the air as your hips buck against his flexed thigh.

“F-fuck, Joel,” You pant, unable to think with the heat of pleasure scorching over every inch of your body.

As soon as he draws a blinding release from you, he carefully guides you to the floor and smothers kisses all over your face, tongue tangling with yours as you open up for him. Letting him devour you as aftershocks tingle all over your skin. And when he finally frees himself from the jeans that are now stained on the leg to slide inside of your fluttering core, you sigh.

It quickly turns into a squeal as you feel thick, cool paint glide over the tarp you both lay on, tangled together in more ways than one. Shocked laughter springs into the air as he reaches out to press a hand into the liquid and presses a palm in the center of your chest. The giggle you let out cuts his rumbles off into a harsh gasp. The feeling of you clenching around him as you do so tightening around him so tight.

“Fuck, your laughter is the best sound.” His hips grind into you, the tip of his cock hitting that perfect spot and all laughter cuts off, turning into deep grunts and wonton moans as he begins to thrust against you.

As the days winds down, Joel busies himself with transferring the laundry over into the dryer and cleaning up the kitchen while you wander back upstairs into the finished nursery. The tarp laid out over the hardwood shows strange streaks and handprints while you sip a freshly made tea from a ceramic mug that was a present at your shower.

You try to hide the tears when Joel’s steps ascend the stairs but he senses them all the same.

“You okay, sweet girl?” His arms wrap around you from the back, one wide palm flattening in the center of your chest. Reaching out to place your mug on a newly assembled dresser, you place a hand over his and wheeze in a deep breath. The other reaches up to thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head and you nod.

“Just happy tears, I promise.”

Four months ago if someone had told you where you would be, you would’ve laughed in their face.

You never expected to be laying out on a large towel atop warm sand underneath a large shade and four months pregnant. Joel is in one of the many chairs he brought along, resigning to sit in it when you all but shooed him away from where you settled in the sand. It was formed just right underneath your back and neck, giving you the relief of the weight you’ve put on in your belly. The swell of it was still small, something you brought up at a doctor visit but were assured it was normal with the weight you already carried.

Joel’s hand in yours in that moment made you feel a little better paired with the doctor’s soft words, they weren’t reprimanding you for being mid-size, simply explaining the differences it would cause in your pregnancy from an unjudgmental perspective. It still bothers you, just a little. Eating healthy and trying to maintain a good balance always the goal, but school and work and being social and exercising- well, frankly it was a lot to handle on a good day. Let alone a bad one.

Now, though, you’ve got a good reason to stick to a better diet. The baby boy you’re nurturing is of the utmost importance. Joel makes sure to cook you anything you’re craving, the meals he provides from the restaurant or whips up at home are balanced. He’s been amazing, Sarah and Ellie too. They’ve all pitched in to help where it’s needed.

Hell, they packed and loaded up the truck and then let you take the front seat beside Joel late yesterday afternoon before the drive down to the coast was made. The hotel was nice, a suite booked for the family. Three rooms, a living room, a small kitchenette, a balcony overlooking the beach from the fourth floor. It was nice. It was perfect.

The sun is glinting off your ring, held up as you admire the way it looks settled nicely on your finger. A wave of guilt rises and washes away in tune with the waves crashing softly on the shoreline. It was expensive, it’s such a nice piece of jewelry. You told Joel he didn’t need to get a wedding band to go alongside it, that the engagement ring was enough. But you suspect he already has one hiding somewhere.

When Joel suddenly stirs behind you, you shift your head to peer at him in an upside down glance from beneath your sunglasses. He’s reaching into the bag at his side, the one that he was adamant about carrying himself even though it contained all the things you would both need during the day out at the beach. He’s murmuring under his breath, camera suddenly in his hand and you scramble up as you realize he’s aiming it at you and the red light is on- displaying very clearly that he’s recording.

“Hey! No, no, no. No videos!” You try and cover yourself with a nearby towel, two piece doing nothing to hide much of anything. It was enough to feel secure walking around the shallows and to lay out, but to be filmed- nope, not enough.

“C’mon, darlin’, you look amazin’. Glowing like a goddess in the sun and decorated with that pretty ring.” His deep voice makes your skin tingle, your stomach dip, a tightening pull behind your hips.

“Shut up, you’re just horny, old man.” You deadpan, turning away from the camera and beginning the task of rising from the ground. You make sure to not aim your back or front at the camera, not wanting to give him the chance to record your chest or ass as you manage to stand. Bringing a hand up to look out at the rest of the set up from where you now stand outside the protection of the shade.

Sarah and her “coworker” are splashing around in the shallows, Ellie and her “friend” are building a sandcastle with the youngest member of your group, and Tommy and Maria are enjoying the small break of entertaining a one-year-old.

“You got me there.” And his grin is blinding, his face lit up with happiness and affection.

“Mhm.” You just raise an eyebrow at him, taking in the way he looks as he stands now too, in his red swim trunks. It’s criminal how good he looks, all broad shoulders and thick thighs. Fuck, he looks good and you feel yourself grow slick the longer you aim an unimpressed expression his way.

“Gotta pee.” You break the staring contest gracefully, pulling on the sun cover you brought along with you, it had been your makeshift pillow while you lay about.

“Alright then.” And then he presses a few buttons on the camera and wraps an arm around your waist.

Half an hour later, with twin ice cream cones held in tight hands, you share giddy chuckles and giggles with him as you make the trek back across the sand toward your set up.

There are flowers everywhere, balloons, and everyone is standing up the moment you get closer.

“Joel…” You trail off, seeing that Tommy is now wearing a graphic shirt with a tux printed on the front paired with his own board shorts. The girls also have their sun covers on, pale green to match the deep olive of yours.

“Alright, so, I know it isn’t the courthouse like we agreed…” Tears well up in your eyes, warm in comparison to the cold sensation of the ice cream you just swallowed a giant lick of. “But, I figured you would like this a little better.”

With barely held back tears, you let him take the last few bites of your napkin wrapped waffle cone and toss it into the trash bag underneath the folding table. And you marry the man who captured your attention some two years ago guide you to stand in the middle of your found family to exchange the vows you never thought you’d get the chance to at the guidance of his brother who learned the monologue online specifically for the occasion. The man who you love and loves you back, sharing sticky sweet kisses to seal the deal.

It’s better than you ever imagined, better than a courthouse and the formality of standing in front of an officiant that’s done it countless times in the same day. Your heart is full as you feel his arms snake around your body and pull you close, his smiling face and crinkled crow’s feet one of the best views in the whole world.

As the sun begins to dip low, you hold his hand tight as you walk with him through the waves crashing around your ankles, another beautiful ring stacked alongside the one he gave you when he proposed to match the simple gold band he now wears on his own finger. They glint in the warm sunlight and you wish that everyday could feel like this, that you get to spend every moment with the man who holds you tight and sways with you in the water to a song in his head. Twirling you carefully, away and then back to him for your body to lean into his with his hands wrapped securely around you.

“Love you, sweet girl, so fucking much.”

“I love you too, Joel Miller.”

The summer semester starts today, Ellie acting as your teaching assistant alongside a young man who you’ve never met before. Only his name on a file and a long list of recommendations. He’s got another two schools listed under his education, both ivy league in name. They’re both due in your office any second now, you realize as you glance at the clock ticking away on the wall. The papers in your hand, copies of the syllabus and the reading list are warm from the printer. The papers need to be organized and stapled into packs for the students to receive once you mid-morning course begins.

Right now, you’ve got a hot tea and a few crackers paired with cheese and fruit in front of you to keep your stomach from lurching. Nausea still rises up but nowhere near as badly as it had during your first trimester. A snack every three hours between meals helps, though you know you need to work on consuming more liquids. The excessive peeing is something new as more pressure weighs down on your bladder and you are not a fan.

You’re about to text Ellie and see if she’s okay when the door to your office suddenly swings open.

No knock, no voice announcing their arrival- and you’re met with the figure of someone familiar.

He recognizes you when his eyes finally land on you at the desk, a sweep of the office taken in first.

And it’s the guy from the coffee shop in Dallas that shoved you so hard you fell to the ground.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the woman who swings a pretty mean right hook. Should you be working in your condition? Because if I remember correctly, your boyfriend seemed pretty concerned about you being out and about.”

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[voiddaisy]

i am convinced that jason todd gets extra aggressive and mean when he is not in control of a situation. and that extends to any situation, no matter how mundane or domestic it is. his brother is sad and he doesn’t know why? he gets angry and snaps at the brother. because he can’t control the situation and that freaks him out, so he bites.

[renx01]

Betrayed

Prompt: Your father is the head of a criminal enterprise, one which has come onto the kingsman’s radar. Galahad has the task to get closer to said head, so he starts dating you. After a lot of apprehension on your side, you finally let your walls be broken down by him. That is until you find out that he’s been using you all along.  Pairing: Harry Hart x (GN!)Reader Fandom: Kingsman Tags/Warnings: angst, manipulation, established relationship Word count: 2569

A soft knock on the front-door of your apartment draws you from the book you were reading, pride and prejudice. You had started reading it after your boyfriend, Harry, had recommended it to you. Standing up, you quietly walk to the door and look through the peep-hole. It was him, which was unexpected and unusual, but it excited you nonetheless, as it had been quite a while since you last saw him. He had been away on a business trip to Canada for two weeks and the time difference made calling a challenge, especially with his job requiring to stay up late often. Opening the door, you notice that he’s wearing a new suit. While it still fits his usual colour-scheme with it being a darker grey with a white pinstripe, it has some red detailing around the buttons. The fit of the three-piece-suit was impeccable as always, accentuating him in all the right places. ‘Evening Harry.’ Your voice is cheerful as you greet him, ‘ I wasn’t expecting you to be back yet.’ He smiles softly at you, ‘I was hoping to surprise you.’ Leaning down, he kisses you, after which he pulls you into a hug. 

‘I missed you, love.’ You tighten your grip around him. ‘I missed you too.’

Ever since the two of you had started dating three years ago, the two of you saw each-other at least twice a week when he wasn’t on a business-trip. He kisses the top of your head before slowly letting go of the hug. ‘Tea?’ You ask him as you walk towards the kitchen, ‘or would you prefer something stronger?’ It was half past eight  on a Friday evening, so having a glass of wine or bourbon together wasn’t out of the ordinary. ‘How about some whiskey?’ He replies following you, his hand on the small of your back. ‘Sounds lovely’ you smile, ‘I should have some in my liquor cabinet.’ While you grab two glasses, he looks at your collection. Since you started seeing him it has grown significantly. He enjoyed teaching you about all the different types of liquor and what effects certain techniques may have if applied to the distilling process. ‘This one?’ He holds up a bottle of Scotch after kneeling down to grab it. It was one of your favourites and he had recently bought you a new one while in Scotland. Nodding, ‘You know me too well dear.’

The two of you sit down in your home library, where you had also been sitting previously. It was your favourite place to be in, as it reminded you of your grandparent’s mansion in Italy, which you had often visited while growing up. You have always been quite the reader, so their library provided many of the books you read as a child. ‘Excuse the mess, I’ve been reading and writing all day.’ You apologise for the clutter in your desk and the many books which lay folded open next to your reading chair, annotations sprawling across their pages. ‘Don’t worry my dear,’ he smiles as he sits down across from you, ‘we both know that this is a normal part of your creative process.’ Once you’ve set down your glasses onto the table that’s standing between the two of you, he fills them with the liquor of his choice. ‘So please, don’t apologise.’ After all this time, you still felt flustered at times. He was always so well-put-together, with his exterior almost always being perfect. It was the exact opposite of how you felt at times, yet he encouraged and supported you, telling you many times that one can never be perfect and that you should be comfortable in whatever clothes you decide to wear. ‘To us.’ He states, clinking his glass to yours. ‘To us.’ You reply before tasting the brown liquid. It was as delicious as you’d remembered it to be.

‘I see you’ve picked up Austen? Is it to your liking?’ After thinking for a moment you reply, ‘I’m enjoying it quite a bit, though I am still uncertain what to think of Darcy.’ ‘Ah yes, Mr. Darcy is quite a complicated man. I suppose depending on the type of relationship one holds with him the experience can be quite different.’ He muses. The two of you spent the rest of the evening talking, reading, and drinking scotch. Only at three in the morning did you realise how much time had passed. Because of this, Harry decided to stay the night at your place. Luckily he always had some spare clothes and his own toiletries at your place. Once he’s gotten changed into his pyjamas, he joins you in the bathroom as you are brushing your teeth. Reaching over your shoulder, he grabs his own toothbrush and starts doing the same. His hair is slightly messy, with some of its waves cascading down his forehead rather than them being pushed back. He had also taken off his glasses, which made him appear slightly younger and less serious, at least to an extent. 

‘Enjoying the view?’ Harry jokes as he catches you staring at him through the mirror. ‘Why yes of course,’ you turn to face him, ‘mister Hart.’ He smiles down at you. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself my love.’ Leaning in, he tenderly kisses you, slowly becoming more passionate when you put your hands into his hair, pulling him closer. Pulling away, he puts his forehead to yours. ‘We should take this to the bedroom.’

The next morning you wake up relatively late, around eleven o’clock. Harry lay there with his arm around you, his pyjama shirt still open. Soft snores fill your ear, it was quite cute to see him sleeping so peacefully. He isn’t like this often, and it is quite the exception that you are awake before him, so you decide to enjoy the moment.  After a few minutes, you supposed that it’d be best to brew some tea before Harry woke up. So very carefully, you climbed out of his grip and silently walked into the kitchen. Putting the kettle on the stove, you start looking at the different teas you have. ‘English breakfast… Chamomile… Mint…’ Pondering and mumbling, you eventually choose a black tea and put in some fresh lemon slices. As the kettle boils, you are putting some yoghurt, granola, and fresh berries into two bowls. Two arms suddenly wrap themselves around your waist. ‘Morning love.’ Harry’s deep voice greets you before he leans down to kiss you on your cheek. ‘Morning dear.’ You turn and meet his lips.  ‘Want to go for a run later?’ You suggest as you put your breakfast and cups of tea onto the dinner table. He shakes his head before taking a sip of his tea. ‘I was rather hoping we could go to a museum, I was thinking of Tate Britain?’ You smile, ‘That sounds lovely.’ ‘We can go out for dinner after,’ a familiar smirk creeps onto his face, ‘I may or may not have pulled some strings and gotten a table at Nobu.’ He was definitely planning something, so you decide to agree without prying much more.  It became much more apparent that he was planning something after he had picked out an outfit for you, which very much complimented what he would be wearing. While it was somewhat casual for Harry’s standards, many would believe it to still be quite formal. Black slacks, a perfectly ironed white shirt, a light-grey knitted jumper, and of course, oxfords, not brogues. As it was still somewhat frigid, especially in the evening, he decided to wear a black overcoat.

After a short walk to Tate Britain, the two of you strolled around the museum for hours, admiring the many pieces of art which were being displayed. He would make comments on the techniques which were used to paint certain well-known pieces, his knowledge ranging from historic to modern art. Offering his arm, he eventually leads you to John Everett Millais’ painting Ophelia. It is a beautifully detailed painting, displaying the character as it is described in Shakespeare’s play, Hamlet. The two of you had originally found a connection through your love of literature, Shakespeare being one of the first authors which came up in your initial conversations. ‘It is quite beautiful, is it not?’ He whispers in your ear. ‘It is,’ you slowly nod, ‘must’ve been quite the undertaking to add all the details which were mentioned in the Scottish play.’ ‘That, I agree with dearest.’ He chuckles. After walking through the remaining parts of the museum, it is already quite late, so you decide to take a cab to the restaurant Harry had reserved a table at. After ordering a bottle of wine and your food, the two of you enjoy quite a relaxed conversation about his business trip and what you had been up to. The dinner itself was phenomenal, the wine complimenting it, bringing out its flavours and umami. You decided to share dessert before walking back to his place, as it was closer. As you pass through Hyde park, he suddenly halts and points at the stars, which are remarkably visible. Quietly, he describes to you which stars form the different star signs, Orion, Sirius, and more.  A couple of minutes pass in silence before you feel him shift next to you. When you turn to face him, he is kneeling. ‘My love,’ he starts, ‘these past three years have been the happiest of my life.’ Pulling out a small box and opening it, he reveals a beautiful ring. ‘Will you do me the honour of spending the rest of your life with me?’ Words escape you. While you had expected him to surprise you in some way, this was outside of the scope you’d expected. Slowly, you nod, some tears escaping your eyes. ‘Yes, Harry. I do.’ ‘My love,’ He stands up, cups your face in both your hands and kisses you passionately, before putting the ring on your finger, ‘please don’t cry.’ As you look in his eyes, he himself seems moved, but something else in his eyes is unreadable to you. The rest of that night was a bit of a blur. Harry told you that he’d gone to your father and asked for your hand in marriage not too long before his latest business trip, who in turn, had agreed. He admitted that he’d been looking at rings for quite a while before that, however, because he is the gentleman he is, he thought it necessary for him to follow tradition. After a couple of weeks, the two of you decide to start living together full-time at Harry’s place, as it’d be easier to see one another on an almost daily basis that way. 

Two months after your engagement to Harry, your parents come over for dinner, as it had been a while since you had last seen them. Your mother is over the moon about the engagement and has insisted that you and Harry should marry in Italy, where you had spent most of your summers as a child. If it were up to her, the wedding would already be taking place this very summer, but because of the perfectionist your fiance is, you have decided to plan for spring of the following year. ‘So Harry, how has your work been lately?’ Your father enquires before taking a sip of his red wine. ‘It’s been busy, but I’m happy to have my lovely fiance to support me.’ Harry says as he squeezes your thigh and smiles at you. Your father doesn’t seem too convinced, however, and lets out a snort. ‘I’m sure you have been busy,’ he slowly leans forward and whispers, ‘busy blowing up my men and warehouses, perhaps?’ After sliding  a few pictures across the table, he leans back again. It was quite clear that it was Harry, the security cameras your father had installed recently in his warehouses after finding multiple men dead and the building in shambles, had captured a video of him. The second picture was Harry holding a gun and clearly shooting one of your father’s men, Antinio. You had rather liked Antonio growing up and had felt awful after his death. You turn to him after staring at the picture for what felt like an eternity.

‘What’s the meaning of this Harry?’

He swallows. ‘It is none of your concern, love.’ You stand up. ‘Yes it is,’ your voice wavering slightly, ‘Harry Hart, you are going to explain to me what you were doing shooting up my father’s people and business.’ ‘Please sit back down, dear.’ He doesn’t dare look at you. ‘Harry.’ You say sternly and he finally looks at you, the guilt in his eyes quite clear. ‘Please, I can’t, you kno-.’ He almost begs you, but it’s interrupted by the sound of a gun being loaded. You turn and look at your father pointing it at your fiance. ‘I expect you to be honest now Harry, or should I say agent Galahad?’ Harry sits deadly still, all the emotion he had shown you completely wiped off his face. Slowly, he stands up, his hands slightly up and clearly visible for your father to see. ‘You have flown too close to the sun agent; and you’re going to pay for deceiving my child.’ Your father’s voice rising to an almost screaming level. ‘Father please! Don’t hurt him!’ You scream back. ‘Can’t you see that he has used you?! The only reason he ever got together with you is to get to me! Isn’t that right?!’ You turn to Harry. ‘Tell me it isn’t true Harry.’ He doesn’t answer. ‘TELL ME!’ Tears stream down your face as he looks at you without a hit of emotion. ‘We can discuss this later, dear.’ He states before turning back to your father, whose gun was clearly shaking as a result of his anger. ‘No, you’re going to be honest, Hart, if that’s even your name.’ He motions Harry to walk around the table and stand in opposite of him, your mother shifting to stand next to your father.  Your fiance didn’t seem to be phased by the situation in the slightest while your father looks like he is about to pull the trigger. Before he can, though, Harry suddenly and swiftly kicks the gun out of his hands, with it flying across the room. Pulling out his own gun, he doesn’t hesitate to shoot your father through the head. ‘DAD! NO!!’ Before you are able to move, he does the same to your mother, who had been relatively quiet throughout the argument. ‘Mo-mo-MOM?!’ You run and fall to the ground, trying to do anything to help them. Blood covers your hands and feet as tears continue to stream down your face. ‘Ha-.’ Swallowing, you try again. ‘Ha-Harry, wh-why…’ Your hands are shaking violently as you search for anything to grab onto. ‘Wa-was it- was it all fake?’ Grabbing your father’s gun you point it at him. He doesn’t look at you. ‘HARRY, LOOK AT ME!’ He turns, taking off his glasses and putting them onto the dinner table, the once white tablecloth now splattered with blood; tainted. Crouching down, he grabs your face and kisses you before pulling you into a hug, the gun you’re holding hitting his chest. ‘You may shoot now, my love.’ Is all he whispers into your ear.

~~~~~~

Part 2

[camilledlc]

Because I love relating songs to characters and analysing why it works so well, I just have to rant about how So Long, London by Taylor Swift is Vanessa's perspective of her break up with Wade. This one is reaaaally long, so be ready for that if you still chose to read this. It is 4,5k of a weird analyse no one asked for. You have been warned :

I think the main reason why Vanessa (that I will from now call Ness) ended things with Wade was because of how bad he was doing. She tried to be there for him, but there's only so much you can do for someone who doesn't want to be helped. So really, it is quite evident as to how this song can be related to their story. I'll go in order of the lyrics, and really dive in with the meaning of the song. I'll write this as if Ness wrote the song herself, kinda. But despite me relating it to Ness, it will also kind of be a study of the song in itself, if anyone is interested in that.

The opening line "I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist" shows two main things that to me will be crucial to understand exactly how it all went down and Ness' state of mind. The two central element being obviously the fairy lights and the mist. The mist represents this gloom, this sadness that had surrounded Wade, and therefore herself. He was extremely depressed because of the Avengers' rejection, and didn't seem to be able to pick himself back up. Everything for him became a mist, but it also made everything for Ness turn into a mist. Always being around a deeply person, to whom you're entirely devoted, it will take a huge tole on you. Their sadness become yours, etc. And by that point, you may think that there was no reason for her to stay, but no. That's why the fairy lights are here. The fairy lights doesn't represent the exit, the ending of this relationship that would finally brought her peace. This early on in the song, it wouldn't make sense. The author is still too deep into this relationship. The fairy lights are probably the reason why they are still together by that point, despite all the pain that it's causing Ness. Because while the relationship can generally be associated to a mist, there are moments of happiness, of "fairy lights through the the mist". Not all moments are bad, and they are occasions where Ness can see the old Wade, and what they used to have. And she wants to fight for that. Because deep down, they love each other in ways that can't be matched, and they loved each other for so long.

And so, this leads us to the next lyrics : "I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift / Pulling him tighter each time he was drifting away". Because Ness can see that not everything is bad in her relationship, that there are still pieces of what they used to be left to fight for, she tries. She tries to "[keep] calm", to be the rock Wade is in desperate need of. For Wade, it feels like his world is falling apart, as he can't seem to find a purpose for his life, a way to matter. He falls more and more into depression, unable to pull himself back up. The only thing stopping him from "drifting away" is Ness. But on the other hand, she can't keep carrying them both on her shoulders. It "weights" on her, and understandably so. She wants to be there for Wade, and she tries as much as she can to save him. But maybe it's a responsibility that's too heavy for her, and so, the come the next lyrics.

"My spine split from carrying us up the hill / Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill". Those are pretty easy to understand and very explicit. The weight of Wade's sadness is becoming too much for us, and she is breaking under it. By being the only one trying to lift them up, she's going to end up even more broken than Wade. I of course think that "wet" references sadness in general. Sadness is often paired with deep blues, cold colours and a general theme of water--because of tears. With the "mist" being also a metaphor for this sadness, it isn't surprising. But this means that this sadness that Wade carried, this "mist", finally got to her. The "mist" finally reached her and made her "wet", meaning that his sadness started to become her sadness. She "caught the chill", she started to feel depressed too, because always being around someone depressed--especially if you're the only one lifting them up--makes you depressed too.

"I stopped trying to make him laugh / Stopped trying to drill the safe". Another easily-understandable set of lyrics, yet devastating in the context of Deadpool. We know a handful thing about him and how he is generally perceived by others, and one of his main traits is that he's funny. He is always one to laugh, or crack a joke, the one that makes you happier when things are bad. He is the one supposed to make other laughs, but with how bad he feels, the roles are reversed, and Ness has to try and try and try to make him happier, to "make him laugh". It must have been really heart-breaking to see the dynamics in their relationship change this much, see a person she knew like the back of her hand becoming a ghost of who they used to be. And eventually, he started to close up too much to her. He would be 'somewhere else, not fully there'. He wouldn't let her in, tell her what he was truly feeling--despite the fact that she could sense how bad he was doing. He became a "safe", a total stranger that she couldn't figure out, until she eventually had to give up. This is even more depressing when you know that Wade has had tendencies to lie to protect himself and push people away, which he could've also done here with Ness.

All of this leads her to start being angry, and confused, and wanting answers from him. Not the Wade she saw before leaving him, but her Wade, from before all this. She wants to understand : "Thinkin, how much sad did you think I had / Did you think I had in me?". I see this as both a rhetorical question, telling him that she can't handle all of his sadness and that she has to leave him behind at some point. That she doesn't have this much sadness in her to support him. But I also believe it has some genuine aspects of an earnest question, always waiting for an answer. Yet, she will repeat this multiple times, probably alluding to the fact that she doesn't have any. Because Wade doesn't have an answer to that either. She wants to know just how far Wade was willing to let himself fall down while thinking that Ness would stay, that she would pick him up. In a way, I think she felt betrayed and hurt by the way he was treating her, waiting for her to be there for him while he purposefully let himself drown in his own misery. So, eventually, she's angry and demands answer, demands an explanation to all of this, because this isn't the Wade she fell in love with.

And that's why it's so tragic : "Oh, the tragedy... / So Long, London". In this, we see just how heart-breaking their entire story is. It wasn't supposed to end this way, yet at that point in time, she saw no other issues. She didn't want to leave him, but she had to. It was tragic because it couldn't have been avoided, yet she felt as if it wasn't fair, and it wasn't meant to be this way. She can only constate that their ending is tragic, and she has to accept it despite the evident pain and sorrow (the punctuation). And so, she leaves. All of this, only could lead to that conclusion. She went through all stages, from loving him, to trying to support him, to giving up on helping him, to being angry at him, to giving up on them altogether now. She isn't fully saying goodbye, as she still feels as if their lives are too intertwined for them to not see each other again eventually. They both love each other too damn much to never do so, to truly end things here. By that point, she accepts that she must leave, and that their story ends, but she knows the love hasn't completely disappeared yet.

But when she says "You'll find someone...", she does admit that while love may persist, the relationship is over for good. By that point, she only includes him in the finding someone part. I think it's because she herself hasn't moved on from him, and she isn't sure by that point that she can. They know they can't date anymore, but she doesn't think that she'll fall in love as hard as she did with Wade with anyone else. But for him, she wants him to move on and find someone who will be able to handle Wade. In a way, she may feel guilty for leaving, despite knowing that it was killing her on the inside to stay. So she wishes for Wade to find someone who, unlike her, will be able to help Wade, or at least carry his burden with him without splitting under the weight.

I feel that the next part is a bit trickier, so if my ramble doesn't make sense, feel free to ignore it! But otherwise, I think that the lyrics "I didn't opt in to be your odd man out / I founded the club she's heard great things about" are definitely laced with bitterness. To me, it really represents that moment of Wade getting better, and how Ness will view herself into that. One the one hand, she knows she isn't entitled to anything regarding Wade anymore because she chose to leave, but on the other hand, she feels as if she didn't have a choice to leave. Everything was so awful that she had to leave for her own sake, so she didn't opt out of his life. She didn't want to be his friend, but she couldn't be anything else. Yet, everyone--including Wade--will make her feel like it was her decision. Even though they respect it, she feels that they don't understand that it wasn't truly her decision, and that under other circumstances, she would've never left Wade. If it wasn't for her survival, she would still be with him. But now, she is purposefully being left out of everything regarding Wade and all of his accomplishments. People will say that it's great to see him better again, to see him happier, and a true hero that wants to matter, etc. And yes, he did that on his own, but it does feel to her as if it invalidates everything she went through. She helped him for so long, and eventually had to give up. So he got better on his own and is praised for it, but what about all of her efforts? Don't they count in his recovery? Isn't her support the foundation of the person he is today? She is one of the reason Wade found his spark back, yet because she left before he did, she can never say as much. And it must feel bitter to see how much time and energy and love you lost trying to help someone who got better after you left them, after you've had enough.

Which is why we have "I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the Heath". Because, yes, she may have been the one who left Wade first officially, but Wade had left her way before that. When letting himself become a shadow of who he once was, he left Ness to fend on her own, the only one keeping their love, their home alive. The "house by the Heath" represents this home that they made for themselves, it was their lives, their futures. But Wade abandoned that mentally. Yet, it falls on Ness when she decides to abandon it physically. In this whole verse, she is feeling bitter, and angry, and regretful. She left everything behind, because Wade felt like her everything. But she wasn't the first one to do so, and Wade had actually done it before. She had in the past tried to support him when he had cancer, only for him to leave her to bear this alone. So, actually, she was the only one trying actively not to leave, not to let this relationship die.

"I stopped CPR, after all it's no use / The spirit was gone, we would never come to". It implies that for a long time, she tried to maintain their relationship alive, but it was for nothing. "The spirit" of their love had left when Wade did too, when he metaphorically left the relationship. It couldn't be brought back, and even if they had tried, it would've been too late. Their relationship was already too damaged to be salvaged. There is no use to perform CPR on a dead body.

The next lyric is heavily marked by the voice of the singer, showing the anger and resentment growing : "And I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free". For this one, I think it's crucial we remember the context of both who they are in general. Ness is a woman in her mid-thirties/forties, meanwhile, Wade is an immortal guy who can't age nor die. Wade still has the whole eternity in front of him to do whatever he wants, to be someone great. But Ness spent most of her life with him, and now she's getting older. No matter who she ends up with it will be a very recent and new relationship, and it will take time to grow, and so she may have trouble later having the family she'd wanted. For her, it may feels like as if she's spent so many years with Wade, only to be back at square one. Except that for him, he can take the eternity to move up a few square, but her, she doesn't have that time. She doesn't have eternal "youth", which is why she may be so pissed, both at herself and at Wade. It can be very easy to start resenting someone when you feel like you have wasted so much time on them, for nothing to come out of it eventually. And it would be better if Wade was in the same boat as her, because then they would both have wasted time and it would be no one's fault. But she is alone in this, she is the one who gave her "youth for free".

The "For so long, London / Stitches undone / Two graves, one gun" only reinforce this idea. She gave her youth "for so long" and now she's feeling resentful. In a way, it feels like her decision killed them both. She knows the negative impact their breakup had on Wade, of course. But here, she also acknowledge just how much it affected her too. With "one gun", aka her decision to leave, she killed the both of them ("two graves"). Kind of in a "you had to kill me but it killed you just the same kind of way". And now, the relationship that she carefully spent time stitching up each time it split is now completely broken, the "stitches undone".

And so, she accepts that she has to move on : "I'll find someone". She knows how bad her decision also affected her, and how hard it will be to get back everything she lost to this relationship. But she can't stay down, and she has to find a way to move forward somehow. And she knows that it's possible, that eventually, she'll find someone else, she'll fall in love again and that life goes on. It's a way for her to try and find peace, to definitely put her relationship with Wade past her. And by the beginning of Deadpool and Wolverine, she believes that she has found that someone, she found Dermot. Someone good, who is different yet someone she is really happy with. She can fully move on, and so wants to try and befriend Wade, as a way to really put this all behind. Because despite knowing they can't ever get back together, she still has a lot of love for him--whether it's romantic or now platonic, she'll always love him, as he is one of the most important person for her. But it's clear that while she's almost moved on completely from him, he hasn't done the same. And because of the way he still holds out hope for them to be together again, she feels as though he thinks she abandoned him all over again.

So in a way, the upcoming bridge is her way of defending herself. "And you say I abandoned the ship / But I was going down with it" is literally her reiterating that she wasn't the one who left first, she was actually holding onto that relationship even more than Wade was, even though it was killing her, "My white knuckle dying grip". The singer's voice is by then really angry, and I think Ness is too by now. It feels unjust to be blamed for leaving a relationship. I don't think they are blaming her consciously, because Wade would never want to make her feel bad about it. But the sole fact that he's still holding out hope that they work out put the blame on her for the fact that it isn't working out. In a way, him still wanting her and not being able to move on makes her even now the responsible for Wade's misery, which is unfair because she already had to bear it and suffer from it for long enough in their relationship.

The next lyrics will all be analysed as a whole, so sorry for that : "Holding tight to your quiet resentment and / My friends said it isn't right to be scared / Everyday of a love affair / Every breath feels like rarest air / When you're not sure if he wants to be there". This may be a bit triggering, se be careful, but I think that while the original song may be talking about not wanting to be there in a relationship, from Ness' point of view, it will be more like there at all in this life. Wade is canonically a character that has a severe mental instability, a lot of traumas and issues, and he is one of the character who tried to off himself the most--even before having a regenerating factor. He clearly has always struggled with his mental health, and it was even worse during his depression. So when Ness feels scared that because she's "not sure if he wants to be there", she's talking about being scared that Wade would take the opportunity to off himself if he could die. It is extremely scary to be in a relationship with someone who doesn't wish to live anymore, when you never know if they are faking their smiles, planning on leaving it all behind, if you're not sure you'll wake up and they'll still be there. Even while knowing he can't die, it is still a terrifying thought. So now, their entire relationship, their "love affair" is completely overtook by this fear that it will all end at any moment, and also by this need to take every good thing in because they may not last, or there won't ever be any other good thing afterwards. Every moment of true joy "feels like rarest air". Because now, everything in her mind revolves around Wade's sadness, his "quiet resentment" of feeling like he doesn't matter, of not finding his purpose in this world.

But there's only so much that one person can take, and so, eventually, she is back to asking "So how much sad did you think I had / Did you think I had in me? / How much tragedy?". This times, it really feels as though she exposed previously during the bridge every arguments in her favour as to why she had to leave, and now she's showing him all of those arguments and telling him 'see?', and in the words of the song "Just how low did you think I'd go? Before I'd self-implode / Before I'd have to go be free". And those two last sentences summarize pretty much everything : she was self-imploding, so she had to leave and be free. This relationship, despite still having some good moments that guilted her into staying, was more like a prison to her by that point. In this bridge, she seems finale with her explanation, and feels a certain form of validation of her decision. By then, she is certain she made the right choice, and she is trying to show others, and especially Wade, that she had to move on and that still holding hope for a relationship together was just invalidating everything she went through (even if Wade isn't necessarily wanting that, or even realizing she might feel that way. He can't help but love her, but respects her decision nonetheless. There is no bad guy here, just a very complicated situation).

The very end of the song is definitely right by the end of the events of Deadpool and Wolverine. Wade tells her explicitly that he still loves her, still wants her, wants them. But when he tells her he still loves her, all she can think of is : "You swore that you loved me but where were the clues? / I died on the altar waiting for the proof / You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days". She may know, realistically, that Wade really did love and still do, but during the end of their relationship, she couldn't feel it. Everything in Wade's life was now centred around his sadness, which is here represented by the "gods of [your] bluest days". Their relationship was too much, and so he "sacrificed" it, because in his mind, there was no room for anything other than his depression. Which is valid and comprehensible, but extremely hard to live for Ness. She was desperately waiting for him to show her that he cared for her, that he still loved her, that he was still with her, like shown in the flashback when Cassandra Nova peered through Wade's mind. She asked him directly for proof of his love, and she eventually had to leave the "altar" because she was dying there otherwise. Wade was feeling so awful that he couldn't remind Ness just how much he loved her, so even now, she can't accept that he still does.

Besides, we know she has supposedly moved on, as she is happy with her new boyfriend Dermot : "And I'm just getting color back into my face". After everything, she eventually felt like a lesser version of herself, beaten up by this tragic relationship. Wade's constant sadness got to her. But now, it's been a while, and she had time to move on, to find her own new happiness. It might be different colours than when she was with Wade, but she has colours nonetheless. She is happier out of the relationship. Yet, she can't help but be mad : "I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place / For so long, London". It is quite obvious that despite being happy now, she had also been happy with Wade before all this. There had been so long where she thought she was gonna marry Wade, found a family together, that he was her soulmate. She knows it's for the better, but there's also something so frustrating about having to leave something that brought you joy for so long because now it has soured. The lyrics "Had a good run / A moment of warm sun" reminds that. Before Wade got depressed, there relationship was truly and utterly an happy relationship. There was so much good in it, and for a long time, it seemed like it would last. But it didn't.

"But I'm not the one / So long, London". She is here fully letting Wade go, and letting their romance go. In admitting that she isn't the one for Wade, she is admitting that they weren't soulmates who were meant to be, and that maybe it's better this way. She is admitting that even the earlier stage of their relationship was extremely good and happy, it was not enough. She isn't the one for him because she could love him at his best, but couldn't at his worst. And there is no shame in that, she knows now that some people aren't meant to be, despite being perfect for each other in every other aspects. For example, when she sees Logan, she understands that he can handle Wade at his worst, that he can lift him up. At the same time, it's a bit bitter because she wished she could've been the one, but she is also really grateful to be out of this relationship, and yet knowing that Wade's got someone else that will be there for him. She can leave peacefully knowing that.

Then, we have another repetition of "Stitches undone" which symbolize definitely the end of relationship, with nothing holding it together anymore, and "Two graves, one gun". Personally, I always heard something else and liked what I heard more, which is "Two graves, one gone". Here, it would be a representation of how they felt during Wade's depression. He was so sad that he was almost dead, which killed her on the inside too. They were "two graves". But some graves aren't meant to be side by side. She left the graveyard, found happiness again somewhere else. She brought herself back to life by leaving. Now, there is one grave that is "gone". But by using the last sentence "You'll find someone...", she is in a way giving him permission to move on from her as well, to leave the graveyard that was their relationship. She hopes for him that he'll find someone who will bring him back to life to, and she even thinks that Wade found that person already, found that in Logan. Now that she let go, she's telling Wade to do the same. To let her go.

The three different instances of "you'll find someone / i'll find someone / you'll find someone" really represents the progression of the breakup and the healing from it. At first, it's a way to convince herself that she has to leave, that she isn't made to handle this. By then, none of them have moved on. Then, it's her finding her own way of happiness, admitting that she's moving on. And the last one is her telling Wade to move on too. By the end of the song, their relationship has definitely ended, it's over for good.

"So long, London".

[farfromstrange]

Can I suggest something with angst (because angst with no comfort is my forte) like a daredevil x vigilante teen reader (?)  They are like siblings by blood. (The reader is treated by Matt like family, and he is so overprotective of them.) They have been together for a long time. Then something came up: the reader got caught by their enemies, and the daredevil was on the run to save the reader, or something like that. (I'm bad at explaining things, but I hope you get it.) Thank you in advance. I hope you're having a great day! love u

I am so sorry for the long wait, nonnie! I feel like I owe you for making you wait so long. Since you said angst with no comfort, I decided to completely shatter you with the angst, and I hope you're okay with that! I felt a shorter piece for this request would do better to convey the emotions. I'm nervous to post this, but I hope you like what I did with this!

Slipping Through My Fingers | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x teen!vigilante!Reader

Summary: You get hurt and Matt fails to save you.

Warnings: ANGST, TW: Death, hurt/no comfort

Word Count: 1.5k

A/n: Not tagging for this fic because the topic isn't for everyone.

He’s running. The city sounds, the noise, the sirens and the blood-curdling screams follow him everywhere. The stench in the alleyways seems to cruelly try to distract him from what he’s focused on, but he can’t give up now. He is close, so close. 

Matt Murdock lost the only family he had when he was just a boy and he believed he was alone, truly alone, for a very long time. And then, one day, you stepped into his life. He was at the police station when he ran into you. Well, you weren’t running, you were stuck in a holding cell. When he found out why – you were caught punching a guy to a puddle for attempting to hurt an elderly woman – and when he asked Brett for your file and confirmed that you were, in fact, only a teenager, he chose to help you out. It could have been him, after all. In his mask, getting caught by authorities, and he would have wished for someone to bail him out, too. Besides, your sassy nature when he told you he was your lawyer drew him in. You tried pushing him away at first, but then you went out again the next night, and there he was, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and he taught you a lesson or two about being smart when it comes to being a vigilante. That was the day you started working together, and you have become his family. You’re like his little sibling, and he’s never had one, so it feels right. He can mentor you, protect you and make sure you don’t get yourself in too much trouble, and in return, you breathe some fresh air into his life. It works, and he doesn’t feel as alone now anymore. You even moved in with him. 

Last night, everything seemed normal. You went out on parol together, busting up a drug ring you had been investigating long before that, and you seemingly succeeded. Though when Matt came home after work a few hours ago, he found the apartment empty, your suit still at home, and he couldn’t make out your heartbeat. When he called, you didn’t answer your phone. You didn’t text back. And you made a deal at the beginning of this that you would always call back. If you don’t, you told him, not even after five tries, and he can’t hear your heartbeat across the city, something isn’t right. But Matt doesn’t need to remember your deal to know that something happened; he can feel it in his bones. 

His chest contracts as his heart grows heavier. The fear is etched deep into his bones. He has gotten so used to the sound of your breathing, not being able to hear it is torture. Like minuscule needles drilling into his brain, the agony wraps its claws around his soul and drags him down into a dark hole. 

He’s running, and he won’t stop until he finds you. 

Something must have gone wrong last night. Someone must have remembered he isn’t working alone anymore and grabbed you to get to him. He has an inkling, but he can’t say for sure. He’s simply following the clues that are smaller than a grain of salt, and he’s struggling to keep up. For hours, he has been running, and you are no closer to being back home than he was before. 

At this point, you could be dead. You could be bleeding out in a ditch. These men could have shipped you off to Russia, enslaved you, used you– He can’t think about that now or he will stop and smash someone’s head into the nearest wall, maybe even his own. He swore to protect you and he failed, he always fails. If anything happened to you, he once told himself, it would be his fault, and it is. He should have been more careful the night before. He should have paid more attention to his surroundings. Things always end badly when he’s involved, and he believes he has doomed you. Yes, he must have doomed you and now you’re gone because of him, possibly even dead, and he is going to have to live with that for the rest of his miserable life. 

Then, he smells it. The wind comes in from the right direction and he catches the slightest whiff of your shampoo, your clothes, and your blood. The latter is what causes all fuses to blow in his mind. His already burning vision turns redder, his senses blaring with the alarms in his brain and he runs even faster. He jumps rooftops, chasing after your scent – and then he hears it. The faintest hint of your heartbeat is in the distance, but it is weak, and you’re losing blood at a pace that is weakening your body. 

He’s not sure for how long he runs, but eventually, his feet are sore and his muscles ache, and he can finally hear your voice calling out for him, “Matty!”

He finds you on a rooftop. Your body lies limp between two blocks of cement. The gash in your side is large, and the pool of blood that surrounds you keeps growing by the minute. Your breathing sounds labored. You reach out when you see his silhouette, barely conscious, but you have gotten used to his presence. 

“No,” he chokes out and gets on his knees beside you. He pulls off his mask, pulling your head into his lap. His hand flies to your wound, but it’s not the only spot you’re bleeding from. 

Bare fingers glide over your face, checking for more injuries. He finds a cut on your lip, your eyebrow has been cracked, as has your skull, and you look completely destroyed. Your life is in his hands, and you’re slipping through his fingers. 

“Who did this to you?” Matt growls. 

“They’re gone,” you whisper. Even though you are injured, you don’t sound scared, you’re not in pain – you have accepted your fate. A fate Matt refuses to see.

“I’ll get you out of here. You just have to hold on a little longer, and then we’ll end them together. I promise. We’ll come home tonight and we’ll have Tacos and–”

“Matthew,” you reach for his face, “It’s okay.”

But it’s not okay, he thinks. You’re bleeding out, you’re dying, and you’re too far from the nearest hospital for him to even try to make a run for it. Even an ambulance won’t make it here in time. It’s not okay, no matter how badly you want to convince him of that, and just like that another wave of blood gushes out of you and into his hand. It feels heavy, like your life’s essence is trying to escape but he doesn’t want it to. You can’t die, he promised he wouldn’t let you. 

“No,” he says again, more sternly this time. “Don’t even talk like that, okay? You’re gonna be fine, you hear me?” He calls your name.

You feel yourself getting dizzier by the minute, but you’re oddly content. “I– I won’t make it–” You’re cut off by a cough, and you taste the copper on your tongue now, too. 

“Shh, yes you are. Stay with me, sweetie, stay with me!”

He can say it all he wants, it won’t change the brutal reality of the situation. 

You’re dying, and he can’t save you. 

You pull him down by his sleeve. “Promise me,” you breathe into his ear, “That you’ll– you’ll take that trip to Eu-Europe. Promise me, Matthew. Promise me you’ll l-live.”

“Stop talking like you’re dying, I–”

“I am.”

“No. We’ll get you an ambulance and then you’ll be fine.” 

A tear slips from his cheek and onto your face. 

“Matthew, please, just…”

“No…”

“Thank you,” you whisper, “for everything. For- for being my brother.”

He calls your name, but the noise fades into the background. 

“I love you,” and these are your last words before the dark void grabs you and hands you over into the hands of the Grim Reaper. 

You look over your shoulders on your way to the light, the last thing you remember being the tears on Matt’s cheeks and the scream he lets out as you leave, your life slipping through his finger like the sand in an hourglass. 

You’re gone, and he couldn’t save you. The one thing he promised to do, he failed at. He failed, and you paid the ultimate price for it. 

He stands alone at your funeral. Just like him, you didn’t have anyone. He made the men that did this to you pay for what they did, and the bruises on his knuckles still burn as the sun shines down on him. It doesn’t rain, which he sees as a sign from you, a silent encouragement that it is okay for him to move on and find the light as you did, but he can’t accept it. He can’t accept that you’re gone. 

You were too young to get dragged into this, and now you’re gone. It’s his fault, and beating the ones responsible to the point they fell into a coma still didn’t feel enough.

He sends a silent prayer up into the sky, but God doesn’t listen, and he doubts he ever will. Mercy is something he doesn’t deserve, and he will carry the guilt with him until the day he dies. 

[dbuckley-recommends]

No Place Like

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57483325

I read this one a while ago, and I can still remember how much this fanfic made me cry.

This fic involves buckfidelity, but it is in the feels rather than one of the more crack-like ones where Buddie just can't not cheat.

They're all going through it.

Written by: Clytemnestra

Word Count: 51,609 - 6 Chapters

Tags:  Minor Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Gay Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Infidelity, Cheating, Complicated Relationships, Unhealthy Relationships, Family Drama, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Mental Instability, Mental Health Issues, to be clear tommy's the one getting cheated on rip to him, the perils of i-can-fix-him-itis, the real ship is eddie diaz/mood stabilizers, the tagline for this fic is hey you wanna watch these two men be real fucked up, Getting Together, Love Confessions

[thatoneadamfanfic]

Hey Friends :) like many of you I have completely fallen in love with hazbin hotel after binging it like three times, especially with one dickmaster Adam.

I’ve been feverishly planning and writing these past two weeks to get my vision of a story down on paper. It is a more serious take on Adam’s character and personality and contains quite the amount of angst and heartbreak, it also would NOT be done in <10 chapters, so I’d be working on it for quite a while..

Now my only question I guess would be if some of you would actually read it lmao

Since this would be a long and big commitment I thought to check in first and test the waters😭

Much loveee

[huntedforsports]

yknow what, the more i watch tos the more i think Kirk doesn't actually like women lmao

[peoples-problem]

Ok, hear me out because my brain is going brrr

What if at some point Eddie does die (I sure hope he doesn't, of course, but follow me here) and Buck gets custody of Chris.

So everyone is grieving but Buck is taking it the hardest, he becomes more quiet and reserved, almost like Eddie at the beginning

Someone has to replace Eddie at the firehouse so there can be a provie or someone transfered from some other place, and Buck is not his usual self trying to make them feel welcome (he also won't give them the cold shoulder like he did to Eddie at the beginning, he is just indiferente, which the rest of the team comments is not usual in him but nobody explains them exactly what happen, leaving that story for Buck to tell) and one day there's one of those emergencies that have everyone checking on their relatives on their way to help solve things out (we haven't had a tornado yet, right? So maybe that?) and everyone is somewhat calm about it because they trust the adults in their lives outside the firehouse to take care of the kids and themselves. But Buck doesn't have that. He has Chris, in school. Chim checks on Maddie, and she and Jee are ok, so his main priority is to send a message to the school that is just not delivering.

So they are on the firetruck, Buck clenching to his phone, the rest of the team looking at him with some sort of pity and understanding, and the new guy is dumb enough to ask "Who you trying to get a hold of?" and everyone stops fucking breathing.

Buck takes a second, swallows the lump in his throat, and answers "My son. I'm trying to reach my son"

And the rest of the team knows what he is doing, how much this is taking from him, but the new guy doesn't so he keeps pushing "You got a kid?"

To this, Buck laughs almost wetly because it feels so much like a deja vu, but it's almost nice to relive this moment, almost like having Eddie sitting next to him again.

"Christopher. He is [age he might have]"

To have a little bit more of a heart break, they might also have this new person saying the "I love kids" phrase. Any other day Buck would have answered something along the lines of "Same" but that was before, now his answer would indubitably be, "I love this one, I'm all he's got" but to soften the impact of this heavy angst (or making it worse, depending on where you look at it) Chimney (bc brother-in-law) or Bobby (bc father figure, probably person Buck relies on if he ever loses Eddie because Bobby understands the feeling) would correct him with a "No you are not, we are all for him" and Hen will distract the new guy so they don't keep asking questions because now it's not the time and, maybe, Buck will come around at some point. Nobody wants to push him but they trust that he will.

And that's it, probably I'm not the first one to think about this, there might be even a whole fic about it that I'm not aware of, but I made myself cry writing so it's here for them not to go to waste.

[scarletcoloredthreads]

narase fun fun fun hora one more jump

[callmetippytumbles]

Amala, bffr.

Amrit is the same dude who let you catch him having ritual sex and made eye contact with you while he had another woman underneath him.

Amrit is also the same dude who undressed you while you were unconscious and then had the nerve to say that no other man should see you nekkid.

He does not even know what shame is.

[danispookypumpkin]

Hey so I wrote some fucking smut!

You can find it here! It's about werewolves! And critical role! It's that one part of episode 58 season 3! Go read it! Unless you're not into that, that's fine! Not everyone is a monster fucker like me! But I am! So deal!

[nightfall-kachiniko]

About to take a test, wish me luck.