#there was a minor groundhog day situation

[reverieinsimlish]

Gorgeous night for the Prom!

[msgexymunson]

Highest Bidder

Description: When you get Eddie to agree to be on auction for the Valentine’s Ball, you don't count on jealousy affecting you this much. To be fair, you didn’t think Chrissy Cunningham would be there. But maybe, just maybe, he likes you just as much as you like him? 

Warnings: Angst, fluff and smut, my favourite horsemen. NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll shoot you with arrows and not the cupid kind. Slight older, 25 ish Eddie Munson x 23 ish fem reader, confessions, BFFs to lovers, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (dress before you impress irl) 

A/N: So this was meant for Valentines but I decided to catch Covid instead. Inspired by the auction scene in Groundhog Day. I loved writing this, hopefully you get the desperate pining feeling that I was trying to give off. I love all of you, not only on Valentines but every day. 

Comments and reblogs keep this little paper heart from bursting Into flames. Please, comment and reblog, it makes me so happy you don't even know. 

7k words

Masterlist

“So sweetheart,” Eddie begins, a sly smile creeping over his face as he steeples his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees, “are you gonna tell me why you did it?” He's sitting across from you in his armchair, like this is some sort of bizarre job interview. 

The surroundings are familiar. Eddie's second hand couch, the worn fabric soft under your thighs. The coffee table you helped drag up four flights of stairs, adorned with a coaster placed entirely for your benefit, of course. It's not like Eddie cares about water rings. The comforting smell of the fabric softener Eddie uses intermingled with cigarettes, and incense to cover the smoky aroma. That, and Eddie's aftershave; faint after a night in proximity of it, but there all the same. 

The situation is not familiar. The wayward glances, the lingering touches, the tension filling the air so thick it's like trying to move through cake batter. Wading through some dense, sweet, all consuming feeling that sticks to your ribs and pulls you into its gravity.

Torn between looking at him and shyly stirring your drink with its straw, you think about it. Why did you? The answer wasn't simple. It never was, with Eddie.

It all started with the Valentines Charity Ball your mom roped you into helping to organise. She was a force to be reckoned with, your mom. The human equivalent of a wrecking ball. When she got involved with any good cause, no one and nothing could stop her. Including you. 

So, when she ran to you in desperation last night, you didn't hesitate. One of the guys for the date auction had taken ill and she was stuck for a fourth. So, the first name you could think of spilled out of your mouth. It took some convincing. No, he's not just some freak. Yes, he's doing well for himself. Yes, he's got a steady job, an apartment. No, he doesn't deal anymore. Yes, he's good looking, obviously. No, we aren't a thing, we were never a thing. 

You were never a thing. It was much more complex than that. Affairs of the heart always were. When you'd met Eddie at school you were quiet. A loser, living on the fringes of obscurity; not popular, but not strange enough to be bullied. Eddie was safe. A shield. You'd entered Hellfire without a second thought. And sure, he was handsome, ridiculously so. But at the time, he was seeing some twig called Stacey or Samantha or something, and you bit down on your attraction. Hid it deep within the tissue of your heart. Swallowed it whole. Then, you'd dated Thomas, and after that, he had seen Wendy, and then it was circumstantial. At no point had the pair of you been single together until recently, so it clearly wasn't meant to be. Whatever attraction you'd been harbouring was mellowed, dissolved and disintegrated in yourself. After that, he was just Eddie. 

Convincing Eddie to do the auction had been an entirely different story. It wasn't nerves. He had stood on tables in the cafeteria to speak his mind, after all. He had conveyed his innermost thoughts to almost any who would listen, like some wayward preacher at a bizarre sermon. It could never be nerves, not with him. It was always the fear of not being enough. The fear of himself. After many words of encouragement, he'd agreed. If only to shut you up, but it worked. 

What you hadn't accounted for was the sight of Eddie climbing out of his beat up van in a goddamn button up shirt and fucking dress shoes. In jeans that weren't ripped, with wild hair scooped back into a low bun. You hadn't counted on the easy smile you'd seen a thousand times now winding into your stomach and sending raven wing beats into your heart. In the soft wink that loosed a thousand moths within your core. Moths, they say, live at most, a day, but these seem ancient compared. Alive in an enclosure you had created years ago, set loose suddenly and all at once, their once fixated caretaker ignoring his responsibilities. 

“Hey sweetheart, am I late?” 

When had his voice gained that huskiness, that depth? When had looking into his chocolate brown eyes melted your insides? A twinge in your back brought on by the stress of the night took you back to the here and now. Gazing back at him whilst you attempted to rub it away, you replied.

“N-no, not at all. You, you look really good, Eddie.” 

He scoffed aloud, shaking his head in disbelief, a cascade of loose curls flowing around his face. 

“That's a load of crap. You, hey, you look amazing. Seriously, smoking hot.” 

Your head span with the compliment, as you looked down at your own outfit. It was a ball after all, and for once your mom had insisted on a dress. It was a deep red, cheap satin, low cut, a tasteful hem at the knee, with a slit up the side providing at least a little mobility, and kitten heels. Currently, you felt like an outsider looking into a different world through plexiglass, but the way Eddie looked at you made you feel like you belonged. 

‘It's nothing, just a dress.” 

“Hey,” he replied, crowding your space with the confidence he embodies, “you look incredible. Trust me.”

His knuckles dragged across your flushed cheek, and for a moment all sense of who you were and why this was happening was lost to the feel of his skin on yours. But only for a moment. Dipping your eyes down, you took a tiny step back. 

“We should head inside Eddie. You ready?” 

After a couple of hours of cheesy music and weak as fuck punch, you tapped your fingers on your plastic cup and turned down the latest pensioner who thought you were here for his amusement. Until finally, the host tapped the microphone and asked everyone to gather at the front for the main event. You made your way to the side of the stage in case you were needed, and waited for the bidding to start. 

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the highlight of the night. For one night only, Hawkins’s most eligible bachelors will be yours, to an extent. Be prepared to be wined, dined, and entertained, by our finest gentlemen, all in the name of charity, of course. And first up, is our very own George Heights! Give it up for George everyone!” 

The crowd clapped as George walked onto the stage, an early balding man with just the hint of a pot belly poking through his chequered blue shirt.  

“George is an artist, and an aspiring architect, with a penchant for poetry and an insatiable appetite. Give it up for George, everybody!”

After a lukewarm auction, which ended with George being bought for 65 bucks, the next one was sold. And the next one. Pretty soon, it was Eddie's turn. He stepped forward, and whispers began to float around you. You expected that, to some extent, but there were woops, and even a wolf whistle too. Ever the showman, he bent into a low bow, straightened back up, and winked at the audience. 

“And last, but not least, we have a handsome young man up for your bidding pleasure. Put your hands together for Eddie!” 

As he did a turn on the spot, hands outstretched, the rouse of applause went on for longer than you thought it would. Enthusiastic hands clapped for your man.

No. Your friend. Just a friend. 

“That's it, that's what we're looking for! Eddie is a mechanic, and a talented guitarist, who is looking for your company tonight! So, starting bid, can I hear twenty dollars?” 

“Here! Twenty dollars!” An old lady waved her programme enthusiastically in the air. Eddie's eyes rolled and caught yours momentarily, and you flashed a smile at him. 

“There we go, twenty! Can we go to twenty five?” 

“Thirty!” an equally old lady shouted, earning you yet another look from him that made you laugh. 

“Fifty dollars!” 

The crowd went silent as a man in the back shot his hand in the air. 

“Woah, a high bidder! Anyone want to beat fifty?” 

Before the crowd had a chance to recuperate a young and extremely pretty woman's hand shot upward. 

“One hundred dollars!” 

Everyone fell silent. The only thing not getting the message was your heartbeat. The beautifully manicured and delicate hand belonged to none other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham. 

She looked more beautiful than ever. Hawkins’s sweetheart, all grown up. The popular girl, the pretty girl. Prettier than you, at least to your mind. Prom queen, beauty pageant winner, and the icing on the cake? Actually a nice person. No one could hate her, it would be like kicking a kitten. 

But as your heart dropped like a lead weight into your chest, you thought you wouldn't mind seeing a bit of fur flying across the room, guided by your heels. 

You saw it, you couldn't fail to. The sudden way Eddie stood a little straighter, chest puffed up a little more, as a slow smirk crawled over his face. 

“One hundred? Wowee! Thank you young lady! Anyone for one twenty?” 

The man at the back called out, “right here!” 

Chrissy giggled, small hand held up covering the cute noise, and made another bid. 

“One thirty!” 

It seemed like the entirety of your body's blood had rushed to your head. You felt dizzy and sick, watching this happen, like some slow motion car crash. Again, your damned back hurt. you rubbed it in vain, and gazed back at the ruin in front of you.  

“One fifty!” The man at the back bellowed. Eddie's eyes widened, and he put his hands together, as if in prayer. His gaze was begging, pleading, and directed at Chrissy. 

The frozen spell you seemed to have been under lifted suddenly. This was not going to happen, you wouldn't let it. Chrissy had everything she could possibly need, she didn't need more. She couldn't have him. 

He's yours. 

Through watery eyes, you fiercely trawled through your purse, and came across the little envelope you tucked in there earlier. The money you had scraped together to go towards buying a car. You'd almost forgotten it, intending to drop it home before you came here. 

It looked like you'd have to be a pedestrian for a while longer. 

At the same time Chrissy placed delicate fingers in the air, your whole arm shot up, purse clutched in hand. 

“Two hundred and fifty two dollars and thirty nine cents!” 

Gasps and grunts from the crowd echoed throughout the hall as everyone turned to face you. Even Eddie's jaw hit the floor. It took a moment for it to register, but when it did people were cheering. 

“Well, I think that wraps it up folks! The highest bid of the night, sold to the very eager young lady in red right over here! What a great donation!”

He continued talking, wrapping up the show, and signalled for the music to start once again. Blood was hammering in your ears, making you almost oblivious to everyone around you. All you could focus on in your tunnel vision was Eddie as he walked to the edge of the stage, climbed off in a smooth hop, and started sauntering toward you. 

“You know, if you wanted me that badly you could have just asked, sweetheart.” He said, as he flashed you a smug grin. 

“Hey, I was just saving you from that guy over there, pretty sure he wanted more than a date.” Your words came out calmer than you thought you were capable of as you clenched a fist at your side to hide your shakes. 

“Oh, really?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “That's what you were saving me from, huh?” 

He knew it was a lie. You knew it was a lie. You're pretty sure the entire hall knew it was a lie. 

“Of course, don't want some old geezer putting his hands all over you. Not a fun Valentines. Plus, I own you now. You've gotta do what I say.” 

Your hands dropped to your hips, holding them as you smiled at him. 

“Kinky,” he replied, stepping closer, making you falter in your confident stance as you’re forced to look up at him, “so, what are your orders, princess?” 

“Can you, get me a drink. A proper drink, from the bar? Please?” 

Taking your hand in both of his, he brought it up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it that turned your insides upside down. 

“Easy. Your wish is my command. Jack and Coke, right?” 

Gormlessly nodding, all you managed to say was a stunted “uh huh.”

He flashed that grin again, and bounced off with more of a spring in his step than usual. 

You turned on your heel, begging yourself to get your head together, and busied yourself with gathering the donations for the auction, including your hefty one, and passed the cash to your mom to be locked away. When you approached, she opened her mouth but you wildly waved a finger at her. 

“I know, I don't want to hear it. Not right now.” 

She smiled, and just said, “pretty sure you could have got that date for free.” 

Rolling your eyes and simultaneously rubbing your back, you passed over the cash and turned quickly, nearly slamming into someone. 

“Easy princess, I know you bought me but I won't stand for full on tackling.” 

He was holding your drink high, arms up to protect it.

“Sorry Eds, just escaping from-” 

You looked over your shoulder, but your mom had disappeared. 

“-nevermind. Thank you.” 

As you grabbed your drink you took a generous gulp in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. 

“So, now you have me, what are you gonna do to me?” 

As he guided a wolfish grin to you, you simply rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that several unsavoury thoughts were swimming through your mind. 

“What if I told you to hop on one leg and bark like a dog, huh?” You replied, sending a grin right back. 

“Oh you don't think I would? Don't test me princess.” 

You simply folded your arms and cocked your head, daring him with a look. Eddie nodded, and started fucking bouncing on one leg. 

“Woof! Woo-” 

“OK OK stop you weirdo!” Gasping a laugh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and dragged him away from the curious stares of those around you. 

As the song changed to a slow ballad, Eddie whipped the drink from your hand despite your protests and placed it on a nearby table. 

“What are you doing?” 

Grasping your hand he escorted you to the middle of the dance floor and suddenly pulled you so close that the air expelled from your lungs. There was no air, just music, and feeling, and Eddie. 

“I'm dancing with you. Isn't this what you do on dates?” 

As he held your hips, thumbs rubbing into your sides, your mind cleared. Like a bubble of smoke had popped. This felt good. This felt right. You circled his neck within your arms and relaxed for the first time that evening.  

“This isn't a date, Eds.” 

Your words held some spite, but it was belied by the smirk tugging at your cheeks. 

“You are right. This isn't a date. If it was, well, we wouldn't be surrounded by geriatrics.” he nodded at the crowd around you, eliciting a high pitched giggle from your chest. 

As you swayed in step with him, gazing into his chocolate eyes, the smirk only grew, fuelled by the mischief in his eyes. 

“So, if this was a date, what would we be doing instead?” 

A part of you wants to feel bashful and turn away, but the spell his eyes have you under is in control. No force on earth could tear your gaze asunder. The couples around you could burst into flames and be chalked up to little more than background noise. 

“Well, first, I would have picked you up at your house, bought you some flowers too,” he said as he brought his hand to yours, holding it and pushing you into his frame even more, so you strained your neck up to him. His breath fanned delicately against your ear as he continued his explanation. 

“Probably took you to a fancy restaurant, with fabric napkins,” he said, making you giggle at his understanding of ‘fancy’, “would have paid too. Maybe had some wine. Shared a dessert.” 

“Yeah?” You nearly whisper it, words falling into the exposed skin of his neck. 

“Yeah. Then, I would have taken you back to my place, offered you a cup of coffee,” suddenly he spun you, pressing his lithe front to your waiting back, his fingers scooping the hair from your neck sending comet trails of sensation down your spine. He continued, words making your head dizzy, “Then, I would kiss you, properly. Like you deserve to be kissed.” 

As he spun you back to face him, you held his gaze for a moment, seeing every ounce of honesty etched into those big brown eyes. 

“Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Let's get out of here.” 

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the here and now. Here you sit, opposite Eddie, invaded by his scent, debating whether or not to just tell the truth and hang the consequences. 

Taking a gulp of your drink, you set it back down and look Eddie in the eye. 

“Listen, I'm gonna be honest. I saw the way you looked at Chrissy and I… I was jealous. I didn't think, I just kinda acted. I'm sorry if it was weird.” 

Bravery fleeing your bones leaving behind an airy wobble, you look at your own lap, fingers twisting over and over. You're only slightly aware of the shuffle and rustle of Eddie rising to his feet, of footsteps, of the dip in the couch next to you. Then, Eddie's large hand comes to rest over both of yours. 

“Do you know why, sweetheart? Why were you jealous?” 

His hand is steady, fingers stilling your movements confidently, but there's a quaver to his voice that seems entirely unlike him. Grasping his fingers, you absentmindedly play with his heavy rings. 

“I feel stupid. I've had… kind of a crush on you, since high school.”

Of all the reactions, you hadn't expected a deep laugh to reverberate from his chest. Recoiling in horror, you shift your hands away from his and move to stand, your only thought to run, flee. 

“No no no, please, sit,” he asks, hands grasping at your waist to keep you there, as you rub at the twinge in your back again. 

“Turn around,” he says, and you don't find it in you to disobey. Firm hands stroke softly down your back, “you've been rubbing your back all night. Right here?” 

Fingertips circle the spot that's been aching and you nod, confused.

“Eddie, if this is a rejection, it's a really odd one- oh fuck, right there.” 

He chuckles lowly, knuckles working at the knot near your spine. 

“It's not, it's really not. You're in pain, and I know you'd never ask. Plus, I, ha, don't have the balls to say this to your face.” 

You don't say anything in response, you can't. Of course he's noticed you're in pain, he always notices stuff like that. The fact that this isn't a rejection though? It has your head reeling with so many thoughts that you can't express the words. Eddie clears his throat, hands rubbing into your skin through your dress, easing some of the building anxiety. 

“I've got a secret. I've- had a crush, on you, since middle school.” 

“Shut up!” You gasp, mouth hanging open at his confession. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“You didn't even know me in middle school Eds.”

“Yeah I did. Well, sorta. You remember that day I ran into the library? I asked for help?” 

You pick at the scab of a memory, itching it to the forefront of your brain. 

“Oh yeah, you were running from that idiot... Johnny?”

“Jimmy Salinsky. He was gonna beat on me. You, you didn't hesitate. You didn't even know me, but you told me to hide under your chair, you even threw your coat over your lap to hide me.” 

“What else would I do?” 

He snorted derisively, continuing his impromptu massage, “ignore me, tell me to fuck off, just like anybody else. But you, no, you didn't. Jimmy ran in looking for me and you didn't even lie! He asked if a freak had run in and you-” 

“-I said ‘the only freak in here is you’, I remember.” 

“That's right!” He laughs, squeezing your hips appreciatively, “Then he asked if you'd seen the poor kid, Eddie. You said, ‘I've never even met an Eddie’, which was true too. Not like I introduced myself before I dived under your chair. I remember crouching there, trying not to laugh, watching your little legs swinging. You had odd socks on, and you smelled really good. Anyway, I crushed on you hard.” 

Head buzzing over his words, you try to organise your thoughts. 

“Did the guys- did Hellfire know?” 

“Sweetheart, I'm surprised you didn't know, it was common knowledge. I just thought you never liked me like that.” 

Turning to face him again, you stroke hesitant fingers over his knee. 

“Didn't say anything, you were seeing Stacey.” Eddie's face screws in confusion until clarity rings like a bell in his mind. 

“Her? I wasn’t- that wasn't a relationship. I would have stopped in a fucking heartbeat if I'd known.” 

“Oh. I dated Tom to get over you.” 

“I dated Wendy to get over you!” 

Sharing a laugh, you both hold eye contact, giggles dying at the realisation of what this means. 

“So, Eddie, about that kiss…” you inch forward, ever so slightly nearer to him. A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip. 

“Yeah, that. That was me, running my mouth,” he says, anxiety wracking his voice as he strokes his neck compulsively, “Not that I don't want to kiss you, I do, just, erm, don't expect fireworks?” 

It's almost like he's back at middle school, the nerves radiating off of him. Smiling sweetly, you take his hand and place it on your jaw, leaning into its touch. The breath he exudes is shaky as he moves closer, eyes darting to your lips as yours flutter shut. 

It's tentative; a brush of his mouth as if he's scared of you running, of some practical joke. When you make no move to pull away his thumb strokes your cheek, lips now moving more confidently against yours. Your heartbeat is echoing inside your head as your hand slips to slither down his chest and around him, circling his side. 

Only then does his tongue slowly snake out to wet your bottom lip; a silent plea which you happily grant. Still, it's delicate, tongues moving leisurely against one another as if you have all the time in the world. It's by no means dispassionate; far from it, it may be the most emotionally  charged kiss of your life, but it feels like he's holding back. 

So, you pull him closer by the front of his shirt, flicking your leg over his knee as your fingers tug hard. It's then that his tongue licks into you in earnest, thick and smooth, filling your insides with need. Just when you feel utterly consumed, whining inside his mouth, he breaks away. After a few pecks to your lips, he presses his forehead to yours, breath uneven, cooling your swollen lips. 

“I'm in love with you.” 

It comes out of his mouth in a rush. All you can do is stare gormlessly. 

“Huh?” 

“I love you. I just needed you to know that. This isn't just a- a thing. I'm in love with you, I have been since forever. I know it's a lot to take in, and I don't expect you to say it back I just need you to-”

You shut him up, pressing a hard kiss to his parted lips.

“Eddie, you lied.” 

“What? I'm telling the truth I-”

“You said don't expect fireworks. You were wrong.” 

Wasting no more time, you force your body onto him, tongue clashing against his teeth as the force of your kiss presses him backwards. His head makes contact with the arm of the couch, hands hot and heavy on your hips, pushing you into his bulge. 

The fabric of your dress is constricting your movements, making you huff into his mouth. 

“Eddie,” you manage in between spit slicked kisses, “unzip me.” 

There's a cross between a grunt and a moan that vibrates from him into you as his hand wanders across your back, groping its way to the zipper. In a few short bursts he manages to unzip it, not once breaking the kiss. 

Cool air hits your skin and you stand up, shimmying the dress to the floor and you straddle him moving in for- 

“Woah, slow down a second, just, just wait.” 

You try to kiss him again but he pushes you back, your ass flush against his crotch as you sit up. His gaze is scrutinising, examining every inch of your form, making you feel more exposed than you've ever felt in your life. 

The desperate urge to shy away works into your arms as you cross them over your chest, but Eddie's having none of it. He tugs at them gently, pulling them to your sides as his thumbs rub encouragement into your skin. 

“Sweetheart, there's a thirteen year old boy doing backflips in my head. Let him have a moment.” 

A little laugh you let out comes out as a snort whilst he gazes up at you in wonder. So, you give him a show, flicking your bra undone in one practised movement and sliding the straps down your arms, eventually letting it fall to the floor. 

“Jesus H Christ and all the angels.” He breathes, grip tightening on your forearms. 

A quivering hand reaches up, and to your surprise, cups your face. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

Eyes suddenly watering, you blink twice to will the onslaught of emotion away. 

“Not like Chrissy though,” you shrug, eyes downturned. 

“No, you're not like her. You're beautiful, like you.” 

Tugging you forward, he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss, the full force of his feelings overflowing and filling your heart with heat. With a nibble to your bottom lip, he lets up for a second. 

“Can we go to my bedroom?” 

Nodding, you clamber off him and stand up. Eddie just makes a noise like you knocked the wind out of him, holding his hand to his heart. 

“What?” You ask, hands on your hips, like it was normal to be standing in front of him in just a pair of panties. 

“Don't look all stern like that, or I'm gonna bust in my pants,” he jokes, standing and crowding your back. 

The journey to the bedroom takes a while. Mostly because you can't keep your hands off of each other. He's grinning, giddy as a school boy, firm hands pressing into your sides, hips, ass. You respond in kind, nearly ripping his shirt in your efforts to remove it, only managing to unbutton the offensive material to expose his lean tattooed torso. 

Eventually, your spine hits Eddie's mattress, the soft furnishing welcoming you, begging you to sink in further. His touches are soft too, almost reverent in their delivery. He stands to remove his shirt and jeans, bulge prominent in his black trunks with little patterns on them. As he coaxes you further up the bed you squint and realise what they are. 

“Eds… are you wearing Star Wars underwear?” 

He chuckles, following your eyeline. “They are Darth Vader pants, to be specific, very manly.” 

The smile you flash him almost hurts your cheeks, the situation feeling so close to normal. Normal adjacent at least. 

“Yeah, very manly. Almost caveman like.” 

“Look, I didn't think I'd have a hot girl watching me undress tonight, let alone the woman of my dreams. Just forget the nerd pants.” 

You're laughing now, even when he's grabbing a pillow and getting you to lay on top of it, positioning you just where he wants you. Your giggles stop however, when he asks a question that steals your breath away. 

“Do I need to put a towel down?” 

“That's very presumptuous of you.” You smile, batting your eyelashes at him. 

“Look, I'm just asking. I don't mind sleeping in a wet patch I just want you to be comfortable.” 

He hovers over you, lips pressed into a line of concern. pressing your mouth to his to will the tightness away, you whisper into his face. 

“You want me to stay?” 

“Sweetheart, I'd ask you to move in tomorrow.” 

The next kiss is a searing heat, all heaving tongue and grinding hips. His hand winds into your hair, tilting your head to get you just where he wants you. No longer the blushing boy, he's the confident man, taking just what he needs and giving you what you crave. It's fire, it's want, it's everything. 

“Eds?” You murmur into his mouth as your hips chase his form. 

“Hmm?”

“Get the towel.” 

Hopping off of you, he practically skips out of the room, leaving you to debate whether or not to take your panties off. As you finally decide to strip them, fingers wedged into the fabric, he returns. 

“Nope, just wait, please?” He asks, propping you up with ease to lay the towel down under you. So, you let go, allowing your arms to fall to your sides.

“Lemme look after you,” he says, climbing on top of you to plant open mouthed kisses to your neck. You nod, gasping when his teeth graze a sensitive spot on your neck. Short nails dig into his back as you whimper at the contact. 

“Right there princess, hmm?” He chuckles, mouthing at your neck. 

“Uh huh- oh fuck,” as he bites softly, tongue flicking out to lather at the spot. 

Moving down, his lips press to your collarbone, then down your chest, until he places a peck to your nipple. 

“I've been dreaming about these tits, but nothing can compare to the real thing,” his tongue darts out, swirling around the pebbled nub, sending goosebumps over your skin, “fuckin’ flawless sweetheart.” 

You want to say a smart remark, shaking your head, but all thoughts fly out the window when he sucks, rough fingers reaching out to rub the other. Back arching, your legs clamp on his little waist, saying their own prayer to keep him there. 

As he releases his mouth with a wet noise, the thoughts flood back, all barriers forgotten. 

“I've been thinking about you too, what you'd do, what it looks like,” you admit, truths flying free in the heat of the moment. 

“Yeah?” He smiles up at you, “been thinking about my dick?” 

“Yeah, how'd it feel in my mouth, how'd it feel inside me,” you breathe out as he continues his worship of you, tonguing and kissing at your tummy. 

“Fuck,” he says, hot air fanning over his wet string of loving kisses, “you're gonna kill me, saying shit like that.” 

“Don't die, I'll never find out,” you joke, breathing unsteady as he falls between your thighs, playfully nipping at the sensitive flesh. 

“Oh we wouldn't want that. How else could you know what this feels like?” 

Lifting your head, he locks eyes with you as he licks thickly over your clothed clit, pressing hard. 

“Oh Eddie, yes,” you wail, wriggling under his touch. 

He merely smiles in response, hooking rough fingertips into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down almost torturously slowly. They stick between your legs so much that your cheeks flush. Eddie doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, working them off your feet and tossing them on his bedside table. You briefly wonder if you're going to get them back, but then his lips are sucking at the soft skin on your ankle and you stop caring. 

Up, up, up he moves, showing each patch of skin just the same amount of love, until he reaches the crease where your thigh meets, tongue rippling over it. You huff in frustration, hips wiggling. 

“I'm getting to it sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to your mound, “I wanna savour this.”

Words of protest dissipate when he laps at you, rooting out your clit without a moment's hesitation. Any clandestine thoughts you had about this very moment are nothing compared to this. To the feel of Eddie sucking at your clit, his pillowy lips wrapped around it. To the sudden roughness of his fingers as they graze your entrance. To the breach of one, slipping deep inside of you, immediately seeking out your sweet spot. 

“Eddie, ri-right there, oh God!” 

He moans into you, vibrations tickling you in the most delicious way. It's an amazing feeling, but you can't help but think about the noises you're making. Maybe they're pathetic, and not what he's used to?  You bet he's heard some beautiful moans in his time. Some pretty blonde things with long legs and big tits. Girls who know what they're doing. Oh God, what if you start feeling him up and he laughs at you? What if- 

“Hey, sweetheart, you here?” 

He gazes up at you between your legs, eyes boring into you with the question. 

“Sorry, so sorry, I'm here I-” 

“Hey. Don't apologise. You in your head?” He asks, head resting on your thigh, “you know we don't have to do this right now.”

“No, no I want to, honest, it's just- I dunno, second guessing myself? I'm just thinking about-” 

“See? That's the problem. Stop thinking. Lie back and enjoy it. Just, get out of your head. No place I'd rather be.” 

His brown eyes are wide, wet with honesty. He was never able to hide his real emotions, at least not with you. 

“OK, I'm so- I'll enjoy it.”

“That's it. Close your eyes princess, and just feel.” 

Eyes fluttering shut, you concentrate on the feel. Of his lips, suckling softly at your clit, tongue running around the hood. Then, fingers slipping inside once again, curling within you. Moans slither out of your hoarse throat as your hips roll up to meet his lips. 

“That's it, so good for me,” he mumbles into you, “doing such a good job. You sound so sweet.” 

Sweet. You sound sweet. 

In that instant, all your hang ups begin to melt away. The pleasure he's giving you is hitting just right, making you forget all your worries. Pressure builds in your tummy; a whirling, winding force hitting you from the inside out. You're squirming, but it's as if someone outside of you is letting you know. It must be Eddie's firm palm, the one that presses into your abdomen, keeping you steady. Keeping you here, in this moment. 

There's no rush. Time loses all meaning. He could be between your thighs for minutes, hours, days. All you know is the ball of desire tightening within you is fit to burst, bubbling over in a melting pot of raw emotion. 

“Eddie, I'm so close, s-so close!” 

He doesn't falter, doesn't deviate in his ministrations. He continues, tongue circling, fingers curling so deep inside you think you can see God. A swirling, cloying heat encapsulates you, winding around that feeling you buried in your heartstrings and tugging it loose. That deep emotion you pushed aside years ago, a healed splinter, set free by the love and care he's pouring out of his flowing tongue.

It reaches its crescendo, vision darkening as every nerve is coddled with an inner fire. You're not even sure what you feel; release, blinding pleasure, pure love? It could be all three as you cry out, fingers tugging at Eddie's hair. 

He rides it out with you, fingers coaxing your orgasm to the very brink and beyond until you flop back into the bed. 

The first clue you have that something different just happened is the wet feeling underneath your ass. It feels damp, and cold? Opening your eyes, you haul yourself onto your elbows to look down. 

“Now are you glad I said about the towel?” 

Never have you seen so much of your own release coated on a man. It's covering his mouth, chin, cheeks, hand. You briefly wonder at how it could have happened, how that much could have come out of you. 

Eddie wipes his mouth and hand on the towel underneath and makes his way to hover over your heaving form, eyes practically shooting hearts at you from deep within.

“You alright princess? We can stop right now if it's too much.” 

Blindly you reach out, clumsy fingers rubbing at the hard swelling of his member inside his underwear. 

“Don't you want me to return the favour?” You ask, confused. 

“Sweetheart, one kiss of those pretty lips on my dick and I'll be done for.” 

“Then- I'm on birth control. Fuck me, please.” 

The groan that he lets out is deep and guttural, moving his limbs for him. He gets up to whip his pants down and you see it for the first time. You see him. 

It's big. Fuck, its the biggest you’ve seen; not just long but thick, even thicker than your fumblings thought. A glint of silver throws you for a loop, almost making you think you imagine it, but there it is again. 

“Holy shit, Eddie- are you, pierced??” 

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles, glancing down to follow your eye line, “you didn't know about that huh.” 

He climbs on top of you, kissing as he goes, plush lips on your skin. Soft, delicate, and warm. Guiding his hardness to your opening, you can't help but rub your thumb over the tip, pre cum slipping on the balls of the piercing. Eddie's breath stutters, nearly panting in your mouth as you smirk. 

“Now that's not fair sweetheart.” 

You continue to smile, gathering your slick to slide him in, but it quickly turns into a wince. 

“Fuck, Eddie, you're too big,” you whimper out as your eyes screw shut. 

“You're fuckin’ flattering me princess.” 

“I'm not, seriously, you're- oh goddamn-” 

He's pushing into you, slowly, but it still burns, the sheer stretch at his girth almost too much. Gnawing at your lips, tears well in your eyes. 

Eddie looks shocked, taken aback by your reaction. 

“Really? Fuck, OK sweetheart, you're OK. Look at me, you can take it, yeah?” 

Trust Eddie to say the hottest thing by accident. He's just trying to check in, but by God it sets your insides on fire. 

“I-I'll try.”

“That's it, atta girl, little more.” 

Reaching down to where you're joined, you wrap your hand loosely around the base, realising he's only halfway in. 

“Eddie, jeez you could- oooh- you could have f-fucking warned me, ah!” 

“Just relax, I've got you princess, you're taking it so well, you can take the rest- oh Jesus H Christ you're tight.”  

A long drawn out cry echoes out of you as he bottoms out, tears loose and running down your temples. He's leaning on his elbows, fingers stroking at your hair, leaving snowflake kisses on your cheeks. 

“Uh- mmmph- Eddie, you've got a pornstar dick.” 

Gritting his teeth, he looks at you almost sternly.

“You can't say that or I'll cum right now, please.” 

Eyes softening, you kiss his lips instead. He envelops you, tongue dancing in your mouth making you forget the dull ache. Nothing can make you forget how full you feel however, your pussy quivering uncontrollably around him even though he's not moving. 

“This is so nice,” he says, entwining his fingers with yours over your head. 

“Eddie, you're literally balls deep in me and it's ‘nice’?” 

Laughing so hard you feel it in your chest, he kisses you again. 

“Sorry, I mean, just being this close with you. It's everything I've ever wanted.” 

Lips quivering, you stare at him, eyes wide and wet. 

“Eddie, I lo-” 

“No, don't. Not like this. Just- can I move?” 

You nod, biting back the words, and he slowly rolls his hips. Eyes nearly hitting the back of your skull, you moan, meeting his movements. He's so deep, it's like he's everywhere. Every pore, every capillary, pulsing with him. 

“Oh my God, baby, oh God!” 

You're rambling words but it doesn't seem to matter, mind filled with fog, with feeling. With him. He links one arm under the fat of your thigh, coaxing you to curl it around him, and everything seems to fall into place all at once. Each rolling movement is pressing into that sweet spot inside of you, that spot he seems to find so easily like a gravitational pull. He smiles, panting in tandem. 

“Right there princess?” 

Nodding like a puppet on a string, he lets out a long groan. 

“Good, I-I’m not gonna last, you feel too fuckin’ good.” 

Pleased at his reaction, you link one arm around him, stroking at the taut skin of his back as he drives into you harder. Grunting with each thrust, he's tensing, holding back. 

“You can come, Eddie,” you say shakily. 

“Not before you sweetheart,” he replies, doubling down on his efforts. 

It all feels so intense, each whirl of feeling sinking deep into your bones and fanning the flames of your heart and desire. 

“Eddie, s-so close, come with me, please.” 

Almost as soon as you say the words your climax springs out, overflowing with every emotion he won't let you say. It fizzes through your nerves, throbbing with each beat of your pulse. 

Eddie groans, releasing at the same time, two bodies with one heart. As you both relax, melding together, you giggle at the same time. A laugh of relief, of pure happiness. 

“Sorry, thought I'd last a little longer.” 

He seems embarrassed, lifting his head enough to look you in the eye. 

“Eddie, that was perfect.” 

He snuggles his head deep in your neck, inhaling your scent as if it were the last time. 

“I'm gonna get you cleaned up, hang on.”

Lifting his head once more, he kisses, and kisses, lips moving against you with pure feeling. 

“OK, now I'm really gonna go.” 

You giggle as he just keeps kissing you, staring up at him with each unspoken word swimming in your mind. 

“Right, now, just hang on.” 

With a final peck, he slips out of you, returning with a warm cloth. Not used to this affection you merely lay there, allowing him, and wriggle out of the way when he takes away the towel. When you move, you see there's still a wet patch, but it's been mitigated at least somewhat. 

“I can change the sheets if you want-” 

“Eddie, I don't care, just hold me.” 

Grinning like a boy he climbs back into bed, pulling blankets over the both of you. Fitting together like you were always supposed to, you sigh with relief. 

“Eddie? Can I say it now?” 

You whisper it into his chest as he holds you close, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the evening. 

“That depends sweetheart,” he says, fingers tracing unknown patterns on the skin of your arm, “you have to mean it. I couldn't take it if you didn't mean it.” 

“I mean it. I love you Eddie, I think I always have.” 

The smile in his voice makes you smile too.

“I love you too. Happy Valentine's Day."

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

[momobani]

Groundhog Day

THE WAY I hate YOU - chapter 5 - 10.9k

&team Nicholas x fem!reader - arranged marriage AU

SERIES MASTERLIST

Sum: the one where even coffee can’t save you. 

Warnings: swearing, sarcasm, a smidge of angst, mention of hospitals, implication of dysfunctional families, mention of wanting/not wanting kids, mention of food and alcohol, very suggestive stuff (smut separate chapter), mention of sex 

Soundtrack rec: Close - Nick Jonas, Tove Lo

Taglist: @nichoswag @seokka0o @sseastar-main @hyuckslvr @ssshasssh @wtfisgoingright 

A/N: please excuse the months of radio silence, sorry this took an age but i had to let this one cook properly, also life won’t leave me alone lol, it’s been hard lately, but hopefully this will get back on track at least a little <3

okayyy so there’s a bit of a formatting situation that needs explaining: basically the smut will be in a separate post linked within the chapter so that minors can just not interact with it and also the chapter doesn’t become 30k or some shit

You should have expected it really, at this point. 

You should have known you would be running late. Well, not you specifically, but your husband. 

“I told you to be ready by 2pm so we could leave.” you remind him as he runs around frantically, shirt still unbuttoned while he does his belt, toothbrush in mouth as he searches for a tie. 

You lean on the doorway and roll your eyes when he waves a hand dismissively in your direction. 

You decide you need to intervene.

“Go back to the bathroom, I’ll get you a tie.” you usher him away from his closet. He hums something that sounds like a protest but obliges and disappears.

You puff out your cheeks in thought, scanning the options Nicholas had laid out in the drawer of his closet. 

If you were your fashion diva husband, what would you do? 

He was wearing a light blue button up and black slacks, which were very simple, so the tie should bring something to the outfit. Your hand hovers over a silver tie with a tiny squares but settles over a dark blue paisley one instead. 

It would look better with his suit jacket, you think as you pluck your selection from its little cubby hole. 

You find Nicholas in the bathroom, toothbrush put back neatly in the little boba cup you used for both yours and his. He’s buttoned up the bottom three buttons but started focusing on his hair as if he just couldn’t settle on one thing to fix at a time. 

“Step back.” you say, squeezing in between the sink and Nicholas so he can keep doing his hair while you work on his shirt. He glances at you as if questioning if you really wanted to do this but you ignore him. 

You finish his buttons first, fingers nimbly popping the buttons through the holes while still holding the tie in one hand. Next, you reach up and pop Nicholas’ collar, threading the tie around his neck and bringing one end down the opposite side. 

Your hands move without effort, looping the tie into a knot and tugging it tighter so it goes into place. You notice Nicholas hasn’t put on cologne yet because he smells neutrally clean like the soap in your shower. You also notice that he’s finished doing his hair and is just looking at you as you work his tie. You stare determinedly at the tie and not up at him but you feel his eyes burning a hole through you. 

Nosy, you think. 

You leave the last bit for him to adjust and step away. 

“Thanks.” he says, tightening it accordingly. “How do you know how to tie a tie?” he asks, genuinely curious. 

You were about to walk out of the bathroom after inspecting your lipstick in the mirror but his question catches your attention. You look at him for a moment.

“Who do you think did Maki’s until he learned to do it himself?” you say before walking out. 

The thought sends you back suddenly. You remembered when you were a teenager and Maki was starting middle school, he had a uniform with a tie. Instead of going to your parents or the nanny that would sometimes take you to and from school, your tiny bean of a brother came to you, holding out his tie with a pout.

So of course you looked up how to tie a tie on the computer that sat in the living room, following the instructions on a Sunday afternoon as the sun set behind you. You practiced a million times, trying to get it perfect so Maki wouldn’t get laughed at by the other kids, that you were sure you could tie a tie in your sleep even to this day. 

You just hadn’t done it in years, but being married to Nicholas meant doing all sorts of things. 

Like running amber lights. 

You’re driving instead of him toward the charity event your companies were participating in, and you just want to make it on time. Your parents had already started asking if you were there yet, your mother especially blowing up your phone. You tell Nicholas to turn it on silent, discarding it to the depths of your bag. He obeys, popping it in swiftly. 

You’re almost there, mostly because you did run a couple of amber lights, and also took a shortcut through some small streets. 

“We should be careful when we get there, a lot of people will be looking at us.” you say. You’d been thinking about how to bring it up, the fact that due to the nature of a public event like that, you needed to be on your best ‘married’ behaviour. 

“Okay, Code Vermin it is.” Nicholas agrees. “Though, I doubt anyone will care about us, it’s a big event.” 

“Regardless, I don’t want to give my parents any reason to lecture me.”

“Got it.” 

When you arrive, you hand over your car to a valet (a charity event with valet parking? lifestyles of the rich and famous much? you could never reconcile the way that rich people did charity work while flaunting off their own wealth, but it didn’t matter since you were one of those rich people and you had to participate in the lunacy; leaving it would mean blowing up your entire life if you were honest) and make your way in, your arm casually draped around Nicholas’ own. 

As you walk into the venue, the parade of familiar faces begins. You switch into polite greeting mode and walk by, smiling and nodding and making small talk with whoever stopped you. 

The cause of today’s charity event was funding and equipping the new children’s hospital in your city. Since your companies largely dealt with pharmaceuticals and medical equipment, you were key figures in the very fabric of the event. 

Your mother spots you from fifty feet away and laser beams you in the back of the head until you feel something irking you and finally turn around to see her practically glaring at you and Nicholas.  

You automatically tug on his arm slightly to get his attention as he finishes chatting with some senior director of the hosting charity itself. You excuse yourselves and you steer Nicholas in the direction of your mother. 

“Get ready; the wolves are hungry today.” you mutter, smiling at some people you passed by. 

“About time, YN!” your mother hisses immediately when you’re within earshot. She switches her demeanour when she turns to greet Nicholas, smiling fondly at him. “Hello, Nicholas. Lovely to see you again.”

“Nice to see you too, Mrs L/N.” Nicholas says smoothly, extending his best son-in-law greeting smile.

“I was just wondering, when are your parents coming?” she continues as if you’re just an ornament or part of his outfit. You had to admit, you were a little grateful she liked him more because it meant he would take most of the heat today, although it made you feel guilty toward him too.

“They should be here soon, I can call to check if they’re okay?” Nicholas offers politely. Your mother shakes her head gently. 

“Don’t worry about it at all, dear, no need to bother them. I’m sure they’ll be here soon.” the response gives you whiplash but there’s truly no space in your heart for surprise because of course she wouldn’t mind your in-laws being late; everyone else got a free pass, but you, you were the bane of that woman’s existence as far as you were concerned. “Well, I’ll let you two go, the auction will be starting soon, so get some good seats if you can.” your mother says. 

“Auction?” you ask. This was the first time you’re hearing about an auction, though it was probably because you’d filtered everything you knew about this event out of your mind in order to stay focused on your work load. 

“Yes, YN, there’s an auction of art pieces, which will be one of the sources of donation. Please pay attention, hmm?” she smiles tightly at you and you feel a smile spread across your own face. It was ironic but it came naturally, the bitterness just about disguised in its artificiality. 

“Yes, Mom. We’ll get good seats.” you say. “Enjoy the event.” 

It was the automatic good-daughter-response that had been pre-programmed into your microchip since the matrix decided you had to be born into this family out of all the other families. 

Your mother seems satisfied and steps away to make conversation with someone else while you and Nicholas slowly make your way through the large hall and find the seating area set up for the auction. 

“You need me to oil your hinges, Ex-Machina?” Nicholas asks sarcastically, leaning his mouth closer to your ear, as you register into the auction and are handed a numbered paddle by the clerk. 

“No, that’s quite alright, dear.” you raise your eyebrow for emphasis. Nicholas rolls his eyes.

“Pardon my mistake; that was clearly Stepford Wives but make it ‘daughter’.” he says but still holds out his arm and you stroll to your seats in a manner that cannot be described otherwise than ‘nicely’. 

“And you married into the dysfunctionality.” you remind him. “Godspeed.” you add. 

In a few minutes, the event begins, most people finding their seats but a few stragglers sitting down just as the auctioneer stepped up to the podium. 

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to today’s main event.” the man begins. He’s wearing a clearly uncomfortable tux and a pair of those Mickey Mouse type of white gloves, even though clearly he’s not the one handling any of the pieces. “If I may introduce the first piece we shall be showing today…” and that’s when your brain hits the snooze button and you tune the world out.

You sit silently and listen to the numbers that are being called out as each painting, photograph print or sculpture is bought out. It’s mostly modern art from somewhat local artists but the calibre is higher than you expected. It all goes by very quickly, you think. You stare blankly, in a somewhat dissociative state until one of the final pieces is brought out.

It’s a photographic print of the silhouettes of what looks like two parents and a child between them, holding each of their hands as they walk away somewhere, presumably into the proverbial sunset. You hadn’t raised your paddle once yet since there was nothing you really wanted but something about the photo makes you reconsider. 

You think how ridiculous it would be bid on it since you had nowhere to put it at your apartment, so you don’t react. 

“I like this one.” Nicholas whispers to your left. You’re snapped back to reality. You’d almost forgotten he was sitting there since you’d both been so quiet the whole time. “We should get it, it’s cute.” he continues. 

“Is it?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he turns to you briefly. “it reminds me of my parents and I. Whenever we spent time together, I mean. Which wasn’t much, but still.” he shrugs.  

You let his words sink in. 

The auctioneer is done explaining the origin of the photo by way of introducing the photographer. The photograph is named ‘Another Place’ and you suddenly understand what you were feeling. 

Just as the auctioneer starts the bidding, you feel Nicholas wrap his hand around yours and raise it as you hold on to the paddle. You’re a tiny bit startled since you weren’t thinking about the object in your hand at all and you didn’t actually think that Nicholas would bid on anything. You look at him momentarily but he keeps facing forward, focused. 

It’s strange.

You don’t think to remove your hand from the paddle and just hand it to Nicholas. Instead he holds on to your hand while you let the echo of the voices in the hall fill the cavities of your head. 

The photograph wasn’t cute. At least not to you. 

In your eyes, there was something inherently melancholic about it. 

As if the photographer was missing something.

The name confirmed it for you more than anything. You could interpret it as homage to the happier times spent with loved ones like your parents, like Nicholas thought, but you could equally interpret it as wanting to go back to or imagining what could have been in another place or time. 

It makes a small part of you ache a little. 

The bidding doesn’t skyrocket so Nicholas keeps on raising your hand until the other bidders fall flat. They don’t seem to want the photo as much as your husband does.

“Going once, going twice…and sold, to the young gentleman over there. Number 88.” the auctioneer makes a note of your paddle before they switch to the next item. 

“Sorry, did you just buy that print?” you blink rapidly, feeling as if you missed the whole thing.

“Yeah, but if you really hate it, I’ll keep it in my office.” Nicholas promises. You shake your head, still unsure of what transpired. You didn’t have space at home but you’d probably make some if you tried. 

“It’s fine. We’ll keep it.” you say.  

The rest of the auction passes by in a blur, and then you’re going to find the photograph so you could claim it. 

You stand to one side while Nicholas handles all the paper work and signs the check. Meanwhile, you look at the photograph some more, noticing that the child’s silhouette seems to be standing closer to the father but has its head angled toward its mother, as if looking up at her. 

You wonder if that could be you one day. 

It seemed unlikely, since you didn’t necessarily feel like it was your calling. 

That and you were married to Nicholas currently. 

Then it occurs to you that you have no idea what he wants in life. What if you get stuck together for a long time? Then what happens? Do you try to make each other happy and what does that even mean? Could you give him what he wanted if he ever did want anything? Would you be enough for him? Would he be enough for you? 

“Ready to go home?” his voice breaks through to you with the clarity of shattering ice. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” you nod, doing your best to look like you weren’t just living through an existential crisis for five minutes straight. 

You find yourself reaching for Nicholas’ arm on your own, holding on with both hands because you weren’t sure you could make it out of the hall without stumbling or stuttering otherwise. You needed stability just in case your legs decided to give out from the burden of your thoughts. 

Nicholas gives you a soft smile when he catches your eye and it feels like the most natural thing to return it, even if deep down you were still shaken. 

But just for a moment, it was okay.

You didn’t have the answers but it was okay.  

*

It’s a Wednesday morning, just before noon, and you have no intention of picking up your phone when it rings on your desk as you wrestle with a box of paperwork except, you glance at your phone and read the caller ID.

Maki’s name is on display and you drop the stack of papers back into the box, hand flying to the device. 

Your little brother rarely called you out of nowhere, especially not when he’s supposed to be in school. 

“Hey, Maks, is everything okay?” you say hurriedly. You feel your stress levels rising as you wait for him to answer. 

“Hey, will you come pick me up from school?” he asks on the other side of the line. The request strikes you as very odd. He sounds okay but you obviously couldn’t be sure over the phone.

“Why? What’s wrong?” you press. 

“Just come pick me up.” he says. “Please? And don’t tell mom and dad.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Yes, I’m coming. Stay there.” 

You were about to have a meltdown. You were so worried about what on earth could have possibly happened for him to call you in the middle of the day and ask you to come pick him up. Could he be feeling sick and didn’t want to tell you? What could it be? 

You grab your jacket and bag and make your way out of the office, letting one of your colleagues know you were stepping out for an emergency. Well, you didn’t know it was an emergency but you just said whatever would get you out of that office quicker. 

You have to look up Maki’s school’s address since you basically had never been there and then drive in a way that would put the main characters of Fast and the Furious to shame. 

You throw your car in the nearest visitor parking spot and leg it to the reception of the main building. The school looks like a typical high school, except this is where all the smart, rich kids went and your brother was no exception. The kids all had crisp and perfect uniforms, the teachers looked impeccable too, and the buildings themselves were all but shining when you entered. 

You talk to the receptionist lady and explain that your brother had called you and she lets you into the foyer where there’s a seating area and several offices nearby. 

You knock on the door that the receptionist lady told you to and enter.

“Hello?” you poke your head in. You spot Maki sitting in one of the chairs around the table and open the door further, relieved to see he looked alright. 

“Are you Maki’s guardian?” the teacher sitting across the room says. 

“Yes, I’m his sister. Hello.” you say politely. 

“Hello. Please come in.” the lady says, gesturing with her hand. She doesn’t seem so stern but you feel like you’re in trouble for some reason. You slip into the chair next to your brother. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask, unable to take the tension any longer. The whole drive here, you felt like you were going to faint. 

“Yes, everything is fine. I just needed to call a parent or guardian in since Maki fell asleep in class this morning. It’s not the sort of thing we take lightly around here.” she informs you. 

You blink, thinking your ears failed you. Fell asleep in class? You swivel your head toward your little brother, who has subconsciously shrunk a smidge, which isn’t really possible since he’s not exactly a tiny child any more. 

“You fell asleep in class?” you repeat, addressing Maki. He nods quietly. “And you couldn’t tell me this over the phone?” you sigh. You ignore the teacher is there for a second. “Do you know how worried I was?” you demand. For a moment, you think you sound like your parents so you tell yourself to cool off and take a step back. 

The teacher clears her throat gently. “You see, miss, it’s not really a problem per se, we just needed to let you know and see if there’s anything going on at home that might have been the cause.” she clarifies. “We also think it’s best to send students home when they are not in their top form.”

“Right, I see.” you hum. “There’s nothing I’m aware of that could be the reason.” you say. You cannot discern the mix of relief and annoyance with the situation. What could he have been doing instead of sleeping and how could it have made him so tired that he fell asleep in class? At least it wasn’t worse, you said to yourself. 

“If students are unable to pay attention, then we find it best to give them some time to step away and come back when they can. Maki hasn’t done this before, so we won’t make a big deal out of it, it’s purely procedural that you were needed here today.” the teacher reassures you. 

“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry about that.” you apologise on Maki’s behalf. “It won’t happen again, right, Maki?” you question him. 

He nods, staying very quiet and very obedient. It was a world away from the vibrant, loud and mischievous Maki you knew. He must be really tired then, you decide.  

“Right, well, thanks, Miss. I think we’ll get going now.” you say, standing up and grabbing a hold of Maki’s backpack, which he was wearing the whole time he was sitting down. You pull him up by the bag, the way a mother cat carries around her kittens by the scruff of the neck, except when you pull him up to stand, he kind of towers over you a little since he’s growing up into a giant.

The two of you leave the office but Maki informs you he needs to get some stuff from his locker, so you follow him through the corridors to find it. You try your best not to have horrible war flashbacks to your own time in high school as you walk further in. By the time you reach it, the bell rings signalling what you assumed was the lunch break. The noise feels like a punch in the gut. 

Suddenly the hallways are flooded with students, teenage boys running around and milling about like tiny ants in a colony, except most of them are like a head taller than you, which makes it doubly terrifying. You feel awfully out of place and old if you were being honest, even if they were not that much younger than you. 

Maki rummages around his locker for a moment before you find two boys coming towards you. You think you’re blocking their lockers so you think to stand over on Maki’s other side but he notices and waves them over. 

“Hey, you guys, did we have math homework?” he asks them. You stand awkwardly to one side but nod politely at the kids. 

Your brother’s question gets ignored as the two boys fixate on you and one of them particularly stares at you in awe. You should have just waited for him outside. It makes you feel even more awkward and you clear your throat, directing the noise at Maki so he does something. He gets the hint and introduces them as his friends Taki and Harua. 

“Hi, aunty, you’re so pretty!” the one introduced as Harua, who was staring at you, gushes. The corners of Taki’s mouth droop down and he smacks Harua on the back of the head, dubious. 

Maki stops short and gives Harua a stank face. “Dude, bro, that’s my older sister!” he corrects.

But it’s too late.

The word ‘aunty’ echoes through your mind. It sends you reeling, mouth agape. You imagine your head unscrewing from your body like a lightbulb or one of those lego men and floating into outer space all while explosions and bombs go off in the background, very much in a poorly made, greenscreened fashion, all accompanied by a full orchestral and choral rendition of Verdi’s Dies Irae. You choke on spit just a little but purse your lips in order not to cough like crazy. 

Harua pales impossibly and you think he starts quaking like a newborn Chihuahua.

“It’s okay, kiddo.” you reassure him. “I suppose I am on my way to becoming a fossil.” you mutter to yourself, only half-sarcastically. 

“S-sorry aun- I mean noona, I- noona, sorry.” Harua stutters out and lowers his head a little, and you worry he might just burst into tears. 

“Don’t worry about it.” you try your best to seem friendly but you’re not sure it works. Instead you try to make Maki move faster. “I have to get back to the office, sweetie, hurry up.” you tell him. 

It seems to do the trick because Maki grabs one last textbook and shuts his locker. Harua seems completely mortified so he barely looks up at you as he and Taki bid the two of you goodbye and you leave.   

Once you’re sat in the safety of your car, you exhale laboriously.

“Quit it, will you?” Maki asks. “Harua didn’t mean it, he just got confused. You don’t look like an aunty at all.” 

“Gee, thanks.” you deadpan. “I didn’t even say anything, you didn’t have to go there.” you mumble as you start the engine. 

“Noona, c’mon, doesn’t Nicholas tell you you’re beautiful all the time? Don’t you know it by now?” Maki shakes his head in disbelief but you know it’s directed at you, not Nicholas. You wanted to tell him, as a matter of fact, no, Nicholas did not say such things nor did he need to. 

“‘Kay, first of all,” you pause. “I know my worth isn’t tied to my appearance and I don’t necessarily need to hear it from other people, although compliments can be nice. Secondly, insecurity still happens, regardless of what anyone says. Alright?” you explain. “The two states can co-exist. I know I don’t look like an aunty, but it was still shocking.”  

“Okay, got it.” Maki raises his hands in defeat. 

You’re driving but you realise that you don’t know where you’re going. 

“Wait a sec, where am I taking you?” you question Maki. 

“Please don’t tell Mom and Dad.” he begs, giving you puppy eyes from your passenger seat. You hadn’t thought about that yet but you don’t say that. “Just drop me off somewhere. I won’t do it again, just this once, just don’t tell them.”

You think for a moment. “Tell me why you fell asleep and I’ll consider it.” 

“I stayed up all night studying.” he says. You scoff loudly. 

“As if, lil bro, you think I was born yesterday?” you say, making a turn without thinking. 

“I’m serious! I did stay up all night studying since we had a test…” he exclaims. 

“A test?” you prompt him to keep going. 

“A test I didn’t study for.” he finishes, talking in tiny. It finally clicks and you nod.

“Right.” you say. “Did you at least take the test?” 

“Well yeah, but-”

“Good, just don’t do that ever again.” you warn. Maki nods enthusiastically. “Fine,” you concede. “you can stay in my apartment until it’s time for you to actually go home.” 

“Yes!” Maki cheers. “Thanks, noona, you’re the best!”  

You get home and while you’re in the elevator, it occurs to you that this was the first time Maki had actually visited you here. You just hoped that there was nothing weird there that might make him think something was off about you and Nicholas. 

You had been pretty successful in quashing his suspicions, not that you thought he had any since he hadn’t expressed anything in a while, so you really needed to keep up the facade. It might be hard considering he was going to stay in the apartment for a few hours.

You make a mental note not to let him see your separate bedrooms; that would be hard to explain. 

You punch in the code to your door and open it, ushering your little brother in before following. 

“Here’s some slippers.” you bring a spare pair out of the shoe rack and plop them in front of Maki. 

You rush into the living room to make sure that it was at least somewhat clean but you’re startled by a wild Nicholas that’s standing with his back to you in the kitchen area. He’s cooking something at the stove, a pair of massive headphones on and you swear under your breath. 

You skirt around the edge of the couch and make a bee line toward your husband. He seems to notice you in his peripheral vision as you practically run at him, making him jump out of his skin and drop the pair of chopsticks in his hand with a clang against the surface of the stove.

“Shh!” you hiss at him, putting a finger in front of your lips, glancing back at the foyer. Nicholas slides the headphones off his head, letting them hang around his neck. He looks more confused than you’ve ever seen him before. “Maki’s here!” you whisper. 

“What? Why? What’s going on?” he whispers back, alarmed at the new information. You shake your head dismissively. No time to tell the whole tale. 

“I’ll tell you later, but he’s here so act normal!” you conclude just as Maki makes his way through the door. 

“Oh hey, Nicholas hyung!” Maki’s face lights up when he sees your husband and you feel a little strange - your brother never greeted you like that. 

“Hey, buddy, how are you?” Nicholas switches up immediately, seamlessly, as if the shock of your arrival had never happened. He meets your eye for a second before properly looking at Maki, who deposits his backpack on the couch and comes to sit at the counter.  

“Y’know, normal.” Maki shrugs. You narrow your eyes at your little brother. 

“Not normal, you don’t normally get kicked out of school.” you scold him slightly. 

“You what?” Nicholas does a double take. Maki seems annoyed at you, as if you said the wrong thing. Well, you weren’t about to lie to your husband about something petty like that. 

“Eh, noona makes it seems worse than it is. I swear, I didn’t do anything bad.” he pouts. 

“He fell asleep in class.” you tell Nicholas, as if he had any authority in the situation. Nicholas visibly relaxes. 

“Oh, the way you were talking, I thought it was something serious. I used to fall asl-” Nicholas starts to say but the way you glare at him changes his mind. “I mean I never did that, that’s really, yeah, that’s not good.” he trails off, bringing a hand to massage the back of his neck. 

“Anyways, I’ve decided to let Maki stay here until he needs to go back home.” you say. “Is that okay? I didn’t think you’d be home actually.”

“Yeah, stay, it’s cool. I got home because my meeting was cancelled.” Nicholas replies, but is looking at you without blinking and you know something’s up by the way he keeps glancing at the hallway. 

“Okay, great.” you pick up the hint and turn to Maki. “We don’t have a lot to do here, Maks, but you can just watch TV for a while, right?” and you all but lift him out of his seat and steer him toward the couch. 

“Yeah, I like TV-”

“Awesome, knock yourself out.” you seat him at the couch and turn back to Nicholas, walking back across the room. 

With the background noise of the TV, you don’t think Maki will hear you if you whisper. 

“What?” you all but mouth when you’re close enough. Nicholas’ eyebrows raise so high they might ascend to the heavens above (your ceiling).

“Don’t you think he’s going to get suspicious?” he whispers back. “What if I say something dumb and he realises this is a sham?” 

You knew it was a real risk to let them hang out unsupervised for a long period of time but without you there for damage control, Nicholas was just going to have to deal with it. 

“I’m sorry, I promised him he can stay. You can figure it out. Just don’t talk about me or us.” you instruct. Nicholas nods, realising there’s no alternative. 

“Fine, just hurry back.” he pleads. 

You definitely weren’t sure you wanted to leave the two of them alone. Would the house burn down if you did? Could they handle it? This was inevitable, really, it was going to happen at some point. 

“Right, if he starts to get annoying, just threaten to tell my parents.” you forgo the whispering, moving toward the hallway.

“Oh? Kay?” Nicholas frowns, not quite understanding. 

Maki senses you’re about to exit and turns around to listen. 

Shit, he’s watching. 

You turn back to face Nicholas and he almost runs into you. You give him a slight smile. “Call me if there’s any problems.” you say sweetly, as if you’re not risking shattering the fabricated relationship you were thrown into. “Now, lean down.” you mutter. 

Nicholas lowers his head innocently and you lean in, planting a swift kiss to his cheek, making up the charade. If he’s surprised, Nicholas doesn’t show it because he straightens up and acts like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

You don’t dwell on it and turn to Maki next. 

“Listen to Nicholas, okay?” you warn. “Be good.” you say, directing it to the both of them. 

“Yes, Mom.” Maki drawls sarcastically. Your mouth drops open at the tone, then again, you didn’t have to wonder where exactly he picked it up from (you, most likely). You stick your tongue out at him as you walk away, Maki mirroring you almost instantly. 

You glance at Nicholas, who’s kind of standing still in shock at the display of sibling affection, not quite sure what to do with himself. 

“This house better be intact when I come back.” you call behind you as you walk out of the door. You really hoped everything would be okay. 

The entire time you were at work, you were anything but focused. You had minutes of good concentration before your mind wandered to how your husband and your brother were getting along. There was a few times where you even picked up your phone with half the mind to call and check but you realised how maniacal that really was so you put the device down on the other side of your office while you worked so you wouldn’t be tempted to slide into control freak mode. 

As soon as the working day finished, you rushed out of there, ignoring the sound of your coworkers still tapping away on keyboards, clipping and filing papers together, or the wistful sighs of those stuck doing overtime. 

You willed yourself to still follow road safety, in a carefully executed exercise of self-control, instead of mimicking your earlier attempts at cosplaying Vin Diesel behind the wheel. 

The familiar sound of the password unlocking the front door finally came as you yanked open the handle and swished through the corridor quickly, kicking off your shoes haphazardly in the process and padding across the floor barefoot. 

There was noise coming from your living room which you’d heard about a half-way through the hallway and you’re fascinated when you enter and find the boys sitting on the couch, controllers in hand and still oblivious to your arrival. 

They were playing video games. 

You breathe a sigh of relief. That’s pretty neutral and doesn’t require any intellectual conversation. 

“Yaaa, where you going, lil dude? That was never a short cut!” Nicholas chuckles, eyes still glued to the screen. 

“It is too!” Maki argues. “Just ‘cause you’ve never heard of it, hyung.” you can hear the cheekiness behind his provocation. 

“Hey, I don’t need to know stuff to be good at this.” Nicholas insists. 

You look closer at the screen and finally put two and two together; they’re playing Mario Kart. 

You can’t believe it - you’d been worried about nothing. And as a bonus, your husband now had a video game buddy, as it seemed. You decide to clear your throat and enter the room.

“Hey, I’m back.” you say. “What did you guys get up to?” you quiz nonchalantly. They both greet you, almost a little surprised since clearly they weren’t paying attention to you coming in. 

Great, a thief could have walked in and out and nobody would have heard a damn thing. 

“We just hung out. Nicholas hyung made lunch then we played video games and well, that’s it.” Maki says, lifting the controller in his hand as evidence. You nod.

“Great, good, awesome.” so you were hyperactively checking your watch for no reason. You were glad to know it was a great use of your time (not). 

“Maki’s really good at this game, YN. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have invited him over sooner so we could play.” Nicholas comments. 

“Well, if it’s about video games, Maki, you can always come around.” you say, only slightly strained at his forgetfulness - it was only a few hours ago that you were freaking out about your brother possibly figuring out he’d been lied to. Well, not lied to exactly, just … left in the dark about the nature of your marriage. 

“Really?” Maki seems really excited to hear he’s got a free-for-all to your house at any time. “That’s great, I’ll come on weekends so we can play, hyung!” he says and for a moment you feel a swell of emotion overcome you; you hadn’t seen Maki this happy and excited for a long time. And he certainly didn’t get this animated when he was hanging out with you. It made you feel like marrying Nicholas wasn’t so bad after all; it had its silver lining. 

“You guys hungry?” you change the subject. “I’ll make dinner.” you say, leaving your bag on the couch. 

“I can make it, if you want.” Nicholas offers over his shoulder. 

“No, no, you made lunch, it’s okay, keep playing.” you reassure him. You just needed a minute to yourself so cooking would suffice. 

“Alright,” Nicholas agrees but he keeps looking at you, as if he noticed the look on your face. You meet his eye and turn away quickly. You didn’t want him to think you were feeling weird about stuff since you weren’t. Much. 

“Maki, call home to let them know you’re here.” you call over the noise of the video game. It was getting late, about the time he’d go home from school. 

“Okay,” he groans quietly but does as you said obediently. You felt like you were nagging all of a sudden. 

You wondered if you’d been replaced as the favourite sibling now that Nicholas was in the picture. Were you jealous of your husband? What a dumb thought. 

You shrug to yourself and wash your hands. 

*

Sometimes you did wonder why you bothered waking up at all on your days off.

It was more of an instinctual thing; it was your body clock waking up for you, telling you that you just had to keep doing that thing where you opened your eyes and then dragged your body out of bed, regardless of whether you had work that day or not. 

So you do, you get up, and your natural routine of getting coffee first thing takes you to the kitchen where you spot Nicholas already at the machine, brewing the first lot of the day. He’s still in his pyjama pants but has not been bothered to put on a shirt yet, his hair all tousled and fluffy from sleep.

“Morning.” you say. You pick out a mug from the cupboard and situate yourself next to the machine, to wait for the coffee to be ready. 

“Hey,” Nicholas responds. It’s surprising since it’s morning and you usually tend to get communication via strange noises from him at this time of day. You glance at him for a moment, trying to discern if something’s different but you just watch his back muscles as he reaches for the milk from the fridge. It’s harder than you’d like to admit to take your eyes away and focus on whether the coffee is done yet. 

The machine does its usual whirring and whatnot but you can’t figure out why it seems to be taking an age. You stand with the empty cup but tense up when Nicholas materialises behind you, reaching over your head to get the box of cereal in the cupboard above you. His bare skin comes into contact with yours and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

His body is warm against yours and it’s overwhelming. 

You realise you’re holding in a breath you didn’t know you’d sucked in, only letting it out when he stepped away. You purse your lips and try your best not to mind that, whatever it was.

But you do mind. So much. 

Your eyes wander back over to Nicholas as he fixes up his bowl of breakfast. He’s not doing much but you just watch him, mesmerised for some reason. It’s weird for sure; it’s not the first time you’d seen him without a shirt, so what on Earth was going on? 

You tear your eyes away but you’re incredibly aware of his every move. He glances at you, as if he can feel your nervous energy permeating the air in the kitchen, but doesn’t say anything. 

You forgot you were waiting for that damn coffee machine, you fingers tapping against the counter, eyes shifting around. You look at the numbers on your digital clock - had they changed at all since you came in? Was your mind playing tricks on you? Maybe it was just too early in the morning. 

“YN?” you hear behind you and you whip around, almost too fast, only to be shocked at how much closer Nicholas was than you thought he would be. He doesn’t say anything else, but assess you, trying to read you. “Are you okay?” he asks, looking at you with concern. 

“Yeah.” you breathe out, inaudibly. 

Except it’s a lie. 

It’s not okay. You can’t seem to focus on anything but Nicholas and the tension between you, thick and intoxicating, a fog that you could cut through with a knife. You hate it; it’s too hot and stuffy all of a sudden and you feel your chest rising and falling with every breath. 

Nicholas takes a slow step toward you, and then another and you attempt to step backwards but are blocked by the edge of the counter against your back. And then you’re standing too close, closer than explainable, close enough to see the colour of his irises in detail or the soft skin of his cheeks or the slight parting of his lips.

You weren’t proud of it but for a moment, you considered closing the space between you and kissing him. It was completely primal, this urge that came from nowhere in particular, an impulsive thought that could be converted into action if you just lost control for a split second. 

But you didn’t decide to lose control. 

Nicholas did.

And you followed, falling into him like a domino.

You think it seems almost natural, reasonable even, when Nicholas leans down and smashes his lips against yours. So natural that your arms curl around his shoulders immediately, grabbing hold to keep you locked together as you kiss intensely, mouths moving in sync as if you’d rehearsed this exact scene a million times. 

There’s a vague beeping noise somewhere in the background, and if you were paying attention, you would have spared a thought that it was your stupid coffee finally ready, but nothing could permeate the bubble the two of you were in.             

Nicholas swipes a paw to your left at the empty mug, his own abandoned next to it, and sends them flying off the counter. You don’t even hear the crash of ceramic against the tile floor because his hands are wrapping around the back of your thighs and he’s lifting you up to perch you on the counter, his mouth never leaving yours. 

You shuffle to accommodate him standing between your legs, wrapping them gently around his waist, keeping him flush against you. Your nighty rides up your thighs, revealing your underwear underneath and Nicholas’ hands make the most of it by running up the sides of your legs, gathering the material and slipping under to hold your bare hips. 

There’s not a single comprehensible thought in your head while you make out with your husband, except for maybe you liked having his tongue down your throat a little too much. That and your awareness of what you were feeling between your legs, exacerbated by the way your hips moved against Nicholas’. He was only wearing pyjamas and you could definitely feel something there. 

You can’t keep your hands still, your fingertips eager to touch every inch of his broad shoulders, reaching to his back and then finding purchase in his hair as Nicholas detaches from your mouth only to skim over your cheek and jaw on his way to your neck. You’re breathless while he pays special respect to sensitive skin of your neck, kissing it hotly and biting down gently, the intent of leaving a mark clear in his actions. 

You all but melt at how good it feels, relaxing in his arms. A low moan escapes your mouth while he’s busy finding your sweet spots. Then another.

“N-nico…” you can’t help the breathy stutter that your throat produces. It seems to catch his attention because he hums against you, acknowledging your reactions. 

Without a word, you kiss him again, guiding his mouth back to yours with one hand. He catches your wrist with one of his hands and holds it there while the other reaches down between you. You’re just about aware enough to know that he’s pulling at the strings on his pyjama bottoms. You shimmy further to the edge of the counter in response, reaching down too, fingers clumsy toward your underwear but before you can do anything-

Everything disappears.

You startle awake, half-jumping out of your skin with clarity that you’d been dreaming this whole time.

You straighten up, lifting your head up from your desk, recognising the familiar decor of your office. You feel almost dizzy and completely dazed from your sleep. Moreover, there’s an uncomfortable heat radiating from your skin, as if you’ve spent too long in a sauna or taken a shower that was far too hot for far too long. 

You swallow thickly and sigh, shaking your head. 

You had to calm down, it was just a dream. Nothing to worry about. None of that happened, everything was okay. 

Everything was-

“Are you okay?” 

You all but scream when you hear Nicholas’ voice behind you. 

“Wh-when did you get here?” you stammer, turning around to glare at him. You watch as he picks up a folder off your shelf, opens it and deposits a stack of papers inside. 

“I was here? The whole time?” he informs you looking back at you, scepticism on his face. “We’ve been working for hours, you must be really tired.” 

“Oh,” you try to calm down. “right.”

“Right.” Nicholas says. “So how was your nap? I didn’t wake you, did I? You seem surprised.”

“I, uh,” you pause to think. “had a scary dream.” you finish and get up. Scary might be an understatement; those kind of thoughts? About Nicholas? Definitely terrifying.  

The safest thing your brain could think of doing right now, was getting a cup of coffee. That should wake you right up, and you hopefully you can put this whole thing behind you. 

“I’m sorry, that sucks.” he hums sympathetically, picking out another folder from the shelf. You glance back at him while you start making your coffee. It’s really strange seeing him in your office - he tended to stay at his own at Wang Enterprises. But what’s stranger is that no matter how much you wrack your brain, you cannot remember what it is that you were working on right now. 

What kind of nap made you forget hours of past events?

You’re lost in thought as you pour the coffee, staring into space. 

“Woah! Hey!” Nicholas exclaims. “Watch it!” 

You snap out of it just in time to lift the jug before the cup overflowed. Your heart is racing from the sudden scare and you put it down quickly. 

“What the hell is going on with you, YN?” Nicholas asks, already by your side, taking your hands away from the counter and inspecting them in case you burned yourself. You look at him blankly and shrug. 

“I must have overslept.” you say lamely. He rolls his eyes, seemingly annoyed but you can tell he was just worried. When had you started to read him so well? 

“I’ll say.” he mutters, letting your hands go then scanning the table to check for any spillages. You were in an office after all; coffee spillages were the most common hazard. “Do you need a wake up call, Mrs Wang?” he quizzes, leaning closer to inspect your face.

“This feels like a trick question.” you blurt out loud. He was still up close, not making a shift away even when he chuckles at your response. 

“Gosh, YN, you’re such an over-thinker.” he says. “We should work on that.” he hums, still looking at you intently. 

“How?” you mumble, still drowsy. 

“Like this…” he trails off, stepping closer to you. You’re starting to feel a sense of deja vu and it’s because his face is literal inches from yours. Maybe it was because of your dream, but somehow you were desensitised to him being in that proximity and didn’t try to create any distance between you.  

You almost start panicking, but it’s more of a dull afterthought. “Don’t think.” he whispers, lips hovering over yours.

It’s too late to think, you note. 

You move, catching his mouth with yours, reaching up to hold his cheek for balance. 

And then you’re stumbling back, Nicholas guiding you toward your desk, lifting you to sit on the edge, papers flying as you swipe a hand back to make space. 

Was it sleep deprivation? Was it complete and utter lack of self-control? You had no idea, but you didn’t need to be told twice about not thinking; all you could comprehend right now was how badly you wanted to keep kissing Nicholas. Nothing else mattered in that moment.

He seemed to share that thought because he made no effort to de-escalate the situation despite you two being in your office, in broad daylight, with presumably all your co-workers outside. 

If you were using your brain, you’d worry what they would think if they found the two of you - the daughter of the chairman and her husband from the merging company - behaving like a couple of crazy teenagers during office hours. 

But you weren’t using your brain. 

You were using your hands, pulling at Nicholas’ tie to undo the loop and throw it to the side. Your fingers found the buttons of his shirt easily, popping each one from top to bottom, then sliding the garment off his shoulders. One of his hands had made itself comfortable squeezing your thigh, shoving your skirt up to expose your leg.

Your hands wander up and down his torso, trying to memorise to feeling of every inch of skin, as if it was the most important thing in your life. His hands rest in your bunched up skirt, thumbs playing with the skin just covered by your underwear and you just want him to get rid of it already. 

But he doesn’t; instead he keeps teasing the skin around it, fingers meandering over your thighs and hips. You whine into his mouth in protest, hoping he gets the message. 

And you wonder if he might have if it wasn’t for the distant beeping sound that gradually became louder and louder.

You open your eyes with gasp when you finally wake up.

The beeping sound is loud and clear and coming from your nightstand. You smack your phone to snooze the alarm and sigh.  

This time you’re in your bed, the ceiling of your room above you, and early morning sunlight streaming in through your window. 

You’re panting, chest rising and falling rapidly, way too hot and sweaty under the covers. You thrash around wildly, as if fighting your blankets until you’re sure that this is definitely reality and you’re 100% awake now. 

So all of that…all of it, was a dream?

You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the panicked squeak that almost escapes you. You have to sit up and attempt to calm down. 

It wasn’t real, none of it was, thankfully, none of that had occurred in real life, you tell yourself. It was all in your imagination. 

“It’s not real.” you whisper out loud. 

So why did it feel so real, if it wasn’t? 

There’s real heat radiating off your skin, a slight sheen of sweat over it and your covers are a mess and there’s a very real ache in your core, one that you wish you couldn’t feel right now. You reach down and find your fears confirmed with the slick that you find drenching your underwear. 

For a hazy moment, your brain jumps to the image of Nicholas smirking at you, amused at your circumstances if he found out. 

He’d never let you breathe if he knew. 

Then your brain jumps to the image of him lapping it all up with his tong-

“No!” you exclaim. “Stop thinking, just stop.” you will yourself, massaging your temples with two fingers. You hurry to get up and try to snap out of it, chugging the water you’d left on your nightstand. As you drank, you realised how parched you were - you needed to rehydrate after that horror episode. 

You needed to take a shower too but you decided to make a cup of coffee first, since caffeine was the next best thing if you didn’t want to start your journey to alcoholism at 7 in the morning, though it may be justified after what you just experienced. 

You glance in the mirror before leaving the room, seeing the ratty, oversized t-shirt you slept in crumpled but falling to just underneath your thighs. Now that you think about it, you should have known it was a dream because you definitely wouldn’t wear a nightdress that nice to bed.

You smooth over your bedhead a little and shrug; the faster you get coffee, the faster you can wash this whole nightmare away. 

You poke your head out of the door first, listening out for any movement. 

There’s quiet sounds coming from the kitchen, so Nicholas was definitely awake. Before you? He must have meetings or something. You decide to brave it and just get in and out. 

You creep up the hallway and practically sneak into the kitchen in your own home since you didn’t want to alert him to your presence. He’s got those giant headphones on with his back to you as he cooks something in a pan at the stove. 

You felt a bit exposed in your little t-shirt and damp panties but you knew he’d seen you in less, in fact, he’d seen you na-

Do not go there, you willed your brain. Now’s not the time to remember embarrassing shit.

You get to the kitchen and Nicholas notices your movement, turning to greet you.

“Morning.” he slides the headphones down to rest on his neck. He looks at you for a moment and you think this is it, he knows, he’s a mind reader, but then he turns back to his food without a word.   

“Hey.” you find a mug and get to the coffee machine. You knew you could practically do this in thirty seconds flat, so you moved as if you were running late for a meeting (it was simply a hypothetical situation but it wouldn’t hurt to practice it like a drill). 

“You want?” Nicholas asks, tipping the pan towards you to show its contents. He’s frying eggs. 

“No, thanks.” you say quickly and snap the button on the machine. You can’t help but tense up as if he’s going to say something more. Could he tell what happened? Could he sense there was something wrong with you?

“‘Kay,” he says. “Can you get me a mug too?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the eggs. 

“Sure.” you grab one as the machine whirrs. So far, so good. You were acting normal. Totally unsuspicious. 

The machine finishes its thing and you pour the cups, putting sugar into yours by habit. Your stomach growls so you decide to get some toast too even if that means staying in the kitchen longer. 

You busy yourself on the other side of the counter but look up when Nicholas moves to pick up a coffee cup. He picks it up and takes a sip. You realise it’s the one you poured for yourself with the sugar. Why didn’t he notice? He usually didn’t have sugar in his. Actually he usually had an iced Americano but that’s a whole other thing in itself. 

“Something wrong?” he asks when he finds you watching him.

“That one had sugar in it.” you say. 

“Oh.” he looks at it, as if he would be able to tell by looking at it. Dumbass. “Sorry, here.” he hands it back to you and you take it, putting it on the counter. 

Normally you wouldn’t care about sharing mugs since you were married - like technically - but you weren’t strangers, that’s what you meant, but right now you looked at it, thinking about how his lips had been there and that yours would be too-

Your toast resurfaces and you almost keel over in relief. Time to get the fuck out of there. 

You throw the bread on a plate and attempt to scat, bumping into Nicholas, who had silently moved to your other side, raiding the fridge. Luckily, you hadn’t picked up the hot coffee yet, or you would be wearing it right now. 

Nicholas is just as startled to find you up in his grill, milk carton forgotten in the fridge as he lets the door fall shut. 

So you stay for a split second, a Mexican standoff.

The eerie deja vu begins again and this time you’re determined to call the shots. You could not allow yourself to just fall into his arms. Not that he had any clue about all that, of course. But you did, your body did and it was starting to react as soon as Nicholas was near you.   

At the risk of your own demise, you make the first move. 

“Your eggs are burning.” you lie and watch as his eyes widen and he rushes back to the pan. In the meantime, you snatch the cup and plate and run.

You make it to the safety of your room and rest your back against the door, exhaling deeply.  

Oh god, that’s bad. That’s very, very, truly not good. 

You’re having weird thoughts about your husband, but then again, who were you really supposed to have those thoughts about? Jake from accounting? That guy Sunghoon across the hall? Heesung from your tort law class? No. 

It kinda checked out that you were somehow into Nicholas - at least on a subconscious level. He was something else entirely. He’d just made your brain short circuit and you had no idea why. 

Well, you did. He was Nicholas. He was your husband. 

And you could totally have sex with him, since that’s what married couples did, even fake ones such as yourselves probably did. You had to think about it - could you bring this up to him? It’s not like you hadn’t talked about it before. 

You’d have to establish boundaries - it’s not like you were in love with him - it would be like a friends with benefits thing at most, nothing to freak out about. 

Your husband was stupid fine; a total smoke show, who could really blame you for thinking like that? It’s a miracle you held out this long, right?  

It was true you’d lasted this long, but you also had your pride on the line - you weren’t the type of person to beg or to ask for anything, so how could you even consider asking him if he wanted to have sex with you?  

You knew you should just forget about the whole ordeal and move on.

So why couldn’t you?

*

Another day, another bullshit situation waiting to happen.

Work was slow and you were more than ready to leave since you’d had enough of office noise and the never-ending pile of paperwork that seemed to arrive in your email inbox every five minutes like clockwork. 

You wanted nothing more to leave but there was still some time left in the work day. 

Your email pinged as if on cue, and you sighed before clicking on the icon on your computer screen. 

You stopped short. This was totally unexpected. 

It was from the people you were negotiating with over the contract you’d lost. They had sent you an email containing a copy of the list of things you’d lost with the meeting notes. They had also requested a meeting next week to go over the revised stuff. The most shocking part of all was perhaps that it was all serious; it was definitely not some kind of passive-aggressive attempt to humiliate you, as there sometimes was in corporate relations (you would know, your legal team was often the one who started that sort of thing, you weren’t proud of it). 

You emailed them back immediately thanking them and confirming the date, then apologising profusely that you’d lacked on your end. You hesitated for a moment, but asked why the sudden reminder of the details from the first meeting. 

The email wooshed away and for a while you forgot about it. 

You were packing up your things to leave when the reply came. 

“Dear Mrs L/N…blah blah blah…” you muttered. “…your husband got in contact and explained that there was a logistical mishap with your papers and got the edits off of us…” you sit and stare at the screen. 

Your what had done what now? 

You took a moment to process. 

According to them, Nicholas had found their contact information and told them that there was a problem with your notes, and they just gave them to him?

What had he done? Surely no one would do that, right? Even for their wife? And why would they have allowed that? What could he have possibly said to them to make this happen?

Probably just told them his full name with a flash of that charming smile and voilà - they probably fell to their knees and begged him to take the edits. Regardless, he’d got them…for you.

You were a little winded, if you were being honest. You’d had so much anxiety over what had transpired with the contract, that you’d tried to block out most of it until you had to actually work on the matter. 

But Nicholas had tried to help you behind your back. Why didn’t he tell you? Probably because he knew you’d never let him to do that for you, yet it was probably the nicest thing any person had ever done for you. Saved you more humiliation and strife so you didn’t have to endure it. 

He really did that for you.

You felt like crying and screaming but like in a happy way for once. 

You couldn’t wait to go home and- and what?

If you saw Nicholas right this very second, you couldn’t trust yourself - you’d probably do something dumb like hug him or kiss him. Or both. 

You had to make it up to him, to thank him. 

So you did the only thing you could think he would really love.

…

The warmth that wafted through your apartment was far too strong for this to become a surprise but you kept cooking, making dish after dish, still on a high over what Nicholas had done for you. 

People didn’t tend to do a lot of nice things for you, at least not genuinely and with good intentions - usually it was because of your money - so when someone did, you always remembered and internalised it. It made you want to do good things too. 

It hadn’t escaped your attention that between you and Nicholas, the language of gratitude and affection was food, so it wasn’t difficult to pick out your thank you gesture. 

The front door beeped open and you heard the shuffle of slippered feet coming toward your kitchen.

“My god, it’s a sauna in here! What are you doing?” Nicholas exclaims when he comes through. 

“I’m fulfilling our beautiful kitchen’s purpose.” you state. “Did you have dinner yet?” 

“Nope, I’m starving.” he says, already eyeing the dishes on the table as he washed his hands. 

“Good, sit down. I made it for you.” you say, turning back to the stove, mostly to avoid Nicholas’ inquisitive eyes. 

“And to what do I owe this pleasure?” he asks, sitting down.

You turn and look at him. For a moment you think about how to phrase it, your tongue poking out your cheek. 

“Thank you for getting the contract back.” you say earnestly. You watch as recollection appears on his handsome face, and he nods modestly. 

“It’s alright; it’s the least I could do.” he replies. You smile fondly at him. 

“What did you end up telling them? I really am dying to know because I know you definitely didn’t tell them the truth.” you chuckle. Then you hesitate. “You didn’t, right?” you start to sound panicked.  

“No, of course not.” Nicholas reassures you. “I just told them our dog ate the contract.” he gives you small shrug. You think you misheard him. He must read into your reaction because he rushed to correct himself. “I’m joking! I just told them it blew away through an open window. It’s totally plausible, airing out offices and such.” 

You sigh in relief. “Alright, even I could believe that. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Nicholas hums. “Now, tell me all about this feast.”   

~

CHAPTER 5A - ADDICTED (smut MINORS DNI)

also memes!!!!!

~

a/n: thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated <3 welp things are finally getting real for YN lol, hope that helps. also fun tmi - i looked at a photo of nico and went ‘hey husband’, then the next one of euijoo and went ‘hey husband’s husband’ lol, might explore this dynamic more tbh

*copyright 2021- © momobani 

[stealingyourbones]

Bones, get my other kneecap, I can let the family have that.

Groundhog day type of time loops happens when a minor event gets the time stream a little bit "muddied", not enough to bring the darkest timeline, but bad enough that the future would be mildly inconvenient. They manifest on Clockwork as hiccups.

What would be an inconvenient situation, that has to be relived for many loops, would be the most interesting to be setting of a story like that? What could be trigger to end it?

For me, it could Jack going to the DMV and trying to successfully renew his driver's license.

(Groundhog day is an old movie, so in case anyone doesn't know, a dude has to relive a specific day, and whenever he sleeps or dies, he wakes up in the morning of the same day, he spends the equivalent of hundreds of thousands of years reliving the same day, remembering everything. And believe it or not, this movie is considered to be a comedy)

ooooo there are SO many interesting situations that are minor and could be used to create an interesting story...

Could be an interesting 5 + 1 fic situation. people just go through really minor situations over and over and then the one time that they realize wth is going on or one time that it's a BIG reason the time loop is occurring.

Dick got the wrong coffee order on his way to work in BCPD.

Flash vibrated his molecules in the wrong way

Jason stopped at a red light

Connor listened into the wrong convo while flying around Metropolis

Bruce simply woke up at the wrong time

Danny kicking a pebble that he wasn't supposed to on his way to school

Jazz sitting down to study for a test and writing something down that she shouldn'tve

They all could have solvable reasons for fixing it. Possibly just figuring out the "Right" way to do said action, Fighting a Big Bad or finding a Magic User/Ghost that can fix the issue, or simply that there is no real way to fix it. It just fixes itself on a random loop with no explanation. The curiosity and wondering why the loop didn't end on that specific iteration would haunt them forever.

[intrepidacious]

time after time: reread edition [2]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 8.2k

chapter warnings: canon-typical violence, the angst continues, another reminder to read the fic premise; a couple of guest appearances; flashbacks are my establishing shots and i’m going to make it everyone’s problem. please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

read the full chapter here | series masterlist | reread masterlist

welcome back everyone!! just a reminder that this is a reread of already published chapters, so if you’re new to this story, maybe don't start here. it probably won't make a lot of sense. please be aware that by clicking the read more you’re gonna see spoilers for chapters one and two 💚

twice upon a time – tl;dr:

in the flashback, set sometime during the blip, we see twelve meeting natasha and steve and offer her abilities to the avengers. after a short demonstration of her powers and (non-existant) combat abilities, she’s taken on as a new recruit. twelve accidentally breaks her own nose during training and reveals that her time powers don’t include the ability to heal herself, as she stays the same when going back in time.

in the loop, twelve panics but tries to get through the day again. she attempts to nap on the living room couch, but gets disturbed by alpine and bucky. she settles down on her bedroom floor, but gets yanked to the astral plane and berated over her creation of a time loop by stephen strange. during their third mission, bucky lightly hits his head when getting hit by the explosion and ends up getting shot again when twelve overcompensates for past mission mistakes. she tries talking to sam about the loop, but gets shut down. alpine follows her over to the other couch, making a nap once again impossible; the movie bucky turns on is eerily fitting for their situation. all the way through the chapter, bucky keeps asking her what’s wrong, but she evades his question.

behind the loop

finally!! our first chapter with flashback brackets!!! i’ve really been loving the structure of these because they allow me to give a little more context and background on the characters gradually instead of a long info dump as well as just lighten the mood a little. also, i just love writing nat and steve!! god, i miss them so much.

“And why would we want to have you?” she asked. As if she were interviewing you for a job. Which, technically speaking, she was.

there’s a lot of fun tidbits in this part of the chapter, but i love this one in particular. her nonchalance when meeting this powerful, terrified stranger is just so charming to me.

“Oh, great, am I volunteering?”

steve is … god, steve. sometimes the fact that this fic is canon-compliant (for the most part) absolutely kills me. that’s something i’ve had to wrestle with in every single flashback, and it’s just never getting easier.

back to the loop!! i didn’t talk about the mcfly thing last chapter and that’s mostly because i actually haven’t seen back to the future in many, many years. i do love them, though, and i feel like they’re something sam would enjoy, too. i constantly want to give him more to do in this story but instead i keep sending him off on cap duties. sigh. we love a responsible man.

So it appears you’ve gotten yourself stuck in some macabre version of Groundhog Day. Alright. Cool cool cool. You can work with that, probably. Maybe.

the most unsubtle nod to brooklyn nine-nine ever, but i’d completely forgotten i put it there and i love it. that makes it at least two references to this show over all of my fics now, and i’m probably forgetting something!!

“Did you just kick me?” “I wanted to see if you’re still alive.” “Horrible. I’m quitting. You can go spar with Bucky again.”

what can i say? i love their slightly different banter each and every time. it’s so funny because twelve still hesitates to call sam and bucky her friends in her inner monologue but at the same time—look at them. i love unreliable narration.

also, this is the chapter where i really start leaving gaps to fill in the rest of the day later. it’s just fun to keep some thing that are going to be repeating anyway open for now!! that brings us reveals as glorious as alpine, who couldn’t even feature in the first chapter even though i love her more than life itself. also, i have no idea where i got the headcanon that sam’s allergic to cats, but it’s simply a fact to me.

“What time is it, anyway?” “Thirteen twelve hours.” “Please stop just saying numbers when I ask you that.”

is this me making a dig at military time or the fact that it’s not used in the u.s.? who’s to say. also a fun little twelve reference before the nickname actually gets used in chapter!!

“Last dates played. Friday, July 4th 2025, 07:50 a.m. Playtime: forty-five seconds. Thursday, March 13th 2014, 02:49 a.m. Playtime: one hour, twenty-seven minutes, eighteen seconds. End of record.”

i was so proud of this little inconsequential easter egg at the time!! that date is the day of the winter soldier movie premiere, and i’m pretty sure the amount of times the song got played was the same as the amount of mcu movies that were out at the time the chapter got posted. this is an actually fun fun fact for a change <3

ooh, the astral plane and strange. i’m not gonna lie, i’m pretty sure i’m writing his character a little more sherlock holmesian than he is in canon, but sue me. both are smart assholes in their own rights, and it’s fun to have him and twelve snark at each other. they both just hate every second of being in each other’s vicinity, and i find that hilarious.

Third time’s the charm, right? About as charming as a kick to the face, you think as you find yourself delivering just that.

you know, sometimes "writing for yourself" just means line connectors that will make yourself snicker. and i think that’s beautiful.

Shouldn’t he insist on leaving?

ugh, i love this scene!! i love that no matter how hard she tries, other people (and bucky in particular) will just do things she doesn’t expect, and for reasons that are certainly what i’m telling you within the inner monologue. mhm. surely. (i know i said spoiler-free but i’m giddy. also you’re reading bucky fanfic. you must know.)

trying to tell sam about the loop and him not really taking it seriously here was certainly a choice. i’m not sure i love this when thinking about his character, but it had to happen this way for plot reasons. to be fair to him, he’s hungry and stressed, and the people around him are all weird (affectionate). give him a break fr.

“I just run cold.” “That you do.”

i’m obsessed with them, have i mentioned that? also, fun fact about spellbound, i’m never again mentioning movies i haven’t actually watched within a story again because i did end up watching it and one of the character’s initials were straight up JBB. i wish i could make this up. maybe i’m the one who’s stuck in a time loop. anyway. love alpine, love bucky knowing something’s up but not what it is.

“Don’t be dramatic. She’s made of stronger stuff than that.”

did you catch that one?

You’re made of stronger stuff than your doubts, you know that. (ch 1)

have i mention that i pay attention to a lot of little details? because yeah. i do.

the reveal that twelve stays the same during her redos is probably one of the more essential ones!! i mostly wanted to include this because i haven’t really seen any other time loop stories do it (unless i’m forgetting something) and also because, well, drama is fun.

how it’s going

alas, chapter seven isn’t quite done yet. i’ve written around 2.5k for it, i think, but i find myself once again taking unexpected detours. it’s fine, though. the bonus chapter is mostly done, and it’s actually pretty short for a change. (because spoiler alert, chapters are only gonna get longer from this point. somebody sedate me.)

as you’ve probably seen in my schedule, next week is gonna be an off week for me!!! please manifest me meeting sam wilson in the parks as i will be on holiday this time next friday. which is a much more fun thing to do than getting stuck in a time loop. in the meantime, take care of yourselves and don’t do anything dumb while i’m gone (like getting stuck in a time loop). also please leave a comment on the chapter if you enjoyed it, come scream at me in my inbox etc etc 💚

[vodkassassin]

🍀☂️💀🎉🫖

Okay so there was this guy. He was going into his 32nd birthday, and it didn’t happen. Don’t ask why, but he never turned 32. He keeps waking up 31. It’s not really a Groundhog Day situation, because all the days are a new day and new situations with new people. Regular stuff. He’s just 31. He doesn’t realize it for a few years, though. He’s celebrating 40 when he finally catches on to the fact that he straight up has just stopped aging.

Anyway, his name is Patrick and he works for a Fortune 500 company, and the boss a is pretty strict, no-nonsense kind of person. He’s worked there over 20 years at this point, and he’s an alright employee. Hasn’t really ever been written up for anything that actually matters to the big shots. Maybe some minor embezzlement but who hasn’t done that.

It’s after his fourteenth birthday party, he celebrated it at the bar with a couple friends and coworkers and now he’s headed home to his one-person flat. Maybe he lives in New York, maybe not. He runs into his boss.

And apparently, his strict, no nonsense boss has been keeping tabs on him. Keeping eyes on him. Watching, realizing the situation long before Patrick ever thought to think he never passed 32. And Boss, apparently, is not exactly no-nonsense after all— Boss is a vampire hunter, and the fact that Patrick is forever 31 is a huge Red Flag in the apparently bustling and lively vampire Hunter sector of the modern age.

It’s a dark and storming night after his 40th that Patrick runs into his boss, who invites him out for a last minute birthday drink. At a tea shop — sure, fine. Strict boss is renown for tea drinking, and it isn’t every day that the head honcho knows their employees enough to remember stuff like this. Boss orders for them both, a fruit blend for Boss and a ginger root tea for Patrick, who ‘looks like he might be catching a cold from the storm.’ Ginger’s apparently good for that. Unfortunately, Patrick is allergic to ginger root. Terrible coincidence, really, Boss says — because, apparently, garlic being a vampire’s weakness is a misconception. It’s actually ginger. Aside from being good for colds it’s also good for killing vampires.

Turning 40-not-really and running into your boss who is dead-set on terminating you, not just from your job but also from the mortal (or immortal?) coil, might be the most interesting birthday Patrick has experienced yet. Hopefully he can outrun his incredibly buff and strangely athletic vampire-hunting Boss without dying.

Maybe he should resign.

(I’m adding polls at the end of these bc people keep asking me to continue past ones, so now we vote.)

[ivankahasbeentreatedsounfairly]

By Katie Rogers

May 22, 2019

WASHINGTON — At this point in the Trump presidency, “Infrastructure Week” is less a date on the calendar than it is a “Groundhog Day”-style fever dream doomed to be repeated.

Roughly two years after the White House first came up with the idea of discussing, for all of seven days, the pursuit of a bipartisan agreement to rebuild the nation’s roads, bridges and broadband networks, President Trump more or less torpedoed those plans on Wednesday in a Rose Garden speech. In the process, he gave Democrats a helpful sound bite when he said he would not pursue a legislative agenda while under investigation by House committees.

He also gave them another opportunity to charge that Mr. Trump, who has promised to deliver on an infrastructure plan since his first days in office, doesn’t really care about working together on one at all.

“I knew he was looking for a way out,” Speaker Nancy Pelosi told her fellow Democrats who had gathered in the Cabinet Room for the meeting with the president, according to two people familiar with the scene. “We were expecting this.”

If this all sounds familiar, that’s because it is. Long ago, the political and pundit class began to recognize any mention of infrastructure-themed events as a catchall joke symbolizing any substantive — if pie-in-the-sky — policy objective destined to go nowhere.

During the first Infrastructure Week, in June 2017, White House aides dutifully plugged along with topical messaging, hoping to distract from more pressing controversies, until Mr. Trump closed out a Rose Garden event by accusing James B. Comey, the former F.B.I. director, of committing perjury in his congressional testimony about the president’s behavior during an investigation into his campaign’s ties to Russia.

“Yesterday showed no collusion, no obstruction,” Mr. Trump said. “He’s a leaker.”

Nearly two years on, Mr. Trump has repeatedly talked about big-dollar plans to help Americans suffering from crumbling infrastructure. Though the plans Mr. Trump has agreed to have only grown more ambitious — the most recent figures put the total package at $2 trillion, doubling his campaign-era promise of $1 trillion — the president had so far avoided specifics about how he would come up with that amount of money.

Any infrastructure package faced slim-to-none odds on Capitol Hill to begin with, but for a brief moment this spring, something seemed as if it could happen. Democratic congressional leaders emerged from a meeting at the White House in April and announced the president had agreed to pursue the $2 trillion plan.

Senator Chuck Schumer of New York, the minority leader, said that there had been “good will” in the meeting and that it was “different than some of the other meetings that we’ve had.” Standing alongside Ms. Pelosi, he said the group planned to meet again in three weeks.

Then came a partisan derailment that had the makings of a disappointing “Game of Thrones” finale — if all of the characters had pledged to work together, only to let the toilets overflow in Westeros. The three-minute meeting prompted Mr. Trump’s latest noninfrastructure speech on Wednesday, in which he accused Ms. Pelosi of saying he was engaged in waylaying House investigations.

“What happened in the White House would make your jaw drop,” Mr. Schumer said — not that what happened in the Rose Garden minutes later was exactly sedate.

Instead of mentioning bridges and roads, Mr. Trump, repeating at least one theme from two years before, said that there was no collusion, and that the investigation into his campaign and his behavior was little more than a hoax. And instead of a visual that might have shown the cost of, say, repairing the nation’s interstates, Mr. Trump brought a White House-sanctioned sign, posted just under the presidential seal, titled “Mueller Investigation by the Numbers.”

The only major change in this repeat situation has been Ms. Pelosi’s role. In 2017, as the House minority leader, she called the original Infrastructure Week “little more than a Trojan horse.” But for this season’s short-lived reprisal, she returned as speaker of the House. After Wednesday’s abortive meeting, she responded by saying she would pray for the president.

Democrats may have a point when they say Mr. Trump has little interest in reaching a deal: Inside the White House, the original Infrastructure Week was never really about what was advertised, according to a person with knowledge of the original planning: It began as a public relations stunt to distract from Mr. Comey’s testimony.

In a meeting before Mr. Comey’s visit to Capitol Hill, White House aides said they would need something else to change the subject. The idea of promoting a bipartisan discussion on meeting a pressing national need as a diversion was also suggested by aides seeking to put distance between the president and several other controversies.

Those episodes included Mr. Trump’s criticism that Sadiq Khan, the mayor of London, was lax on combating terrorism, and an accusation that the Justice Department had produced a watered-down version of his travel plan to bar visitors from predominantly Muslim nations.

A day later, Mr. Trump stepped into the Rose Garden and accused Mr. Comey of perjury.

Infrastructure Week was born out of chaos. Now it looks as if it might die that way, too. On Wednesday, the person with knowledge of the original planning said the entire effort had “gone horribly wrong, spinning out of control.”

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/05/22/us/politics/trump-infrastructure-week.html

[tuliptiger]

Dark vent and bad life circumstances ahead.

The very nature of caregiving sucks so fucking bad dude. If it takes a village to raise a child it takes a village to lower a person gently into the ground too. Everyone can say caregivers are angels and they are but the NATURE of it is awful.

For people like my grandma with no one else but me and my mom and my two brothers in Washington who have not stepped up to help at 82 years old, who lost her husband of 63 years less than a year ago. Who just had 2 minor strokes a month ago and now has extreme memory issues along with balance issues.

She needs strong blood thinners, can't remember fuck all and can't safely walk anywhere. She needs 24/7 care and all the care facilities in a 50 mile radius are either break the bank expensive or horror shows. She needs help and me and my family need help taking care of her and it just isn't happening unless we give everything she's ever owned and everything she and my grandpa worked towards to medicare/Medicaid whichever fucking one it is. And it would move her out of her house which is one of the few things helping her stay normal.

Caregiving is for people who literally don't have a life or a team of 3-5 people who can switch out. I mean absolutely no life and one person can't do it alone. 24/7 care, no leaving, no walks, no moments alone nothing for one person. No boundaries and it's groundhog shit day in and day out, yes I checked the doors, no grandpa is dead, how are you feeling are you tired? Are you hurting? Where do you hurt? Yes i checked the doors no grandpa isn't coming to dinner no he isn't sleeping outside on the ground yes i checked the doors. Yes i checked the doors.

I love my grandma more than any other person i think i could other than my grandpa. I do, I am not built for this my mom isn't built for this, it was sudden and this is a huge change in both our lives and it's fucking bleak. It's sad it hurts every moment. I love her and I'll never stop loving her but by god it's fucking hard. I'm pre mourning my life already, fuck my hopes and dreams, fuck the house i was trying to build, fuck my career. Anything I've ever wanted is gone in a puff of smoke. I know that's how my mom feels and I feel a little bit of it even helping a little bit. Things have been going downhill fast.

And it just feels like i was predestined to be here. I came from this family. I came with these fucked up mental issues. I was gifted the neglect and abuse as a kid. I can't keep friends or relate with people. Im fucked up and no matter how hard i try and climb out of my situation I can't escape myself or my family or my blood born assigned-at-birth shit luck. I had 3 good years, 3 good fucking years where I lived in my car for half of that time and i tried to make friends i tried to pretend i could be normal and it always comes back to some shit in the past or me or my family.

I can't run and I can't fight it I might as well settle in or die jesus christ. And if I don't I think my mom might instead. Fuck me and fuck my families shitty ass fucking luck we were all born into.

[boundlss]

groundhog + ruikasa

Rui had understood what was happening right away.

It was an ironic sort of situation that he might have joked about, really. Rui was, after all, the one who had suggested adding that sort of time travel element to their latest play in order to convey the themes of persistence they'd been aiming for with the general concept. That said, his general tendency to ground himself within the confines of reality meant that it wasn't a sense of irony that made him realize something was wrong the moment he'd woken up on the day 'after' their final performance of the show.

It was just that after getting home that Friday night, he'd been taken by a burst of inspiration, and had fallen asleep directly at his work desk some time close to three in the morning. Then, he'd woken up in his bed to an alarm he couldn't have possibly set.

With those facts in order, Rui had considered a time loop to be among the more logical situations before he'd even bothered to unlock his phone and check the date. As he'd been expecting to see, the day of the week---Friday---seemed to mock him.

It hadn't exactly stopped him from getting up and going to school, though. In doing research for their play, Rui had read and watched just about every generally-praised story involving the concept of looping time he could possibly find, so he'd considered himself generally well-equipped to handle things.

It isn't until now, having reached his destination, that Rui even considers the fact that he may have just been dreaming all of yesterday. It's a much less exciting if slightly more logical conclusion, but he quickly dismisses the thought, since it doesn't matter either way. After all, the second day of a time loop is ordinarily a 'test run'---isn't it?

In consuming suitable material for the play, Rui had found himself the most frustrated by people who didn't properly observe their surroundings the first time they woke up to the 'previous day'. In this situation, his plan had generally just been to see whether or not things are going exactly as he recalls them, with minor deviations in his own responses and actions.

But there's already a deviation in his recollection of 'yesterday's' events. In that instance---or maybe in his dream---Tsukasa had arrived to the gate after him, only slightly winded. He'd almost been late.

"Fufufu. You're as punctual as ever, Tsukasa-kun," Rui says, trying to mask his initial surprise. After all, it might turn out that he really was dreaming the events of 'yesterday', and it's not exactly a surprise for Tsukasa to be exactly on-time. "I got up a little earlier than normal today because of our final show later, so I thought I might have you beat."

put those little guys in situations. / accepting.

[puffyducks]

Continuation teehee. Why am I just now realizing that these comic titles are all song references-

Getting haunted speedrun any%

FUCK DID WE MAKE IT TO A GROUNDHOG DAY SITUATION. SHIT.

yas bitch slayy

WHY IS IT TURNING INTO A HORROR MOVIE I THOUGHT WE WERE JUST GONNA GO ON A SILLY ROADTRIP

Looks like SOMEONE'S never heard of the dark web.

Oh wait right it's the 70s-

Ok so it's NOT ghosts it's just insanely advanced lifelike holograms that are being projected from all angles to fill an entire room with fake people with technology from the 70s. OKAY. I GUESS THAT'S SUPPOSED TO BE A BETTER EXPLANATION??? Just let them get haunted at that point-

BLESS ME BAGPIPES???? YOU MEAN LIKE SCROOGE MCDU-

Dickie don't even joke like I'm being so fr right now. NOBODY TELL HIM ABOUT INVENTING ANY ROBOTS OH MY GOD

DID THEY GIVE THE EAGLES FURSONAS

Daisy is fucking eating in this outfit she should be dressed like this forever

DROWNING SPEEDRUN ANY%

Dude he has autism headphones shoutout

I'mma be so fr I thought he was going behind those rocks to like smoke a joint or something but then I was like "nooo there's no way they'd put that in a duck comic" so I guess anxiously squatting behind a rock to make tasteful cross-stitch patterns of buffalo is a much better answer

I've decided all 3 of them are dating btw. Polyamory wins.

I'm literally willing to bet money that the boss is Scrooge. Like there's no fucking way they're gonna bring up a stingy boss and it's NOT him. It's fucking SCROOGE-

IIIIII FUCKING KNEW IT!!! I FUCKINF CALLED IT I'M SO MAD. MAN FUCK THIS STINGY OLD MAN!!!! I won't lie the gray turtleneck with the jacket is kind of a look tho like kinda gagged tbh. hate this old man btw.

HOW HAS THIS CROTCHETY OLD FUCK BEEN BEHIND EVERYTHIIIING GO HOME SCROOGE

I NEED HIM DEAD YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. I'M TURNING VIOLENT. sorry I did not expect Scrooge to be a part of this and he's bringing out the worst in me HE HATES JOY AND WHIMSY AND ART. AND WHY DOES HE JUST HAVE LOOSE CHANGE IN HIS OFFICE FUCKING LOSERRRRR

DONAAAAAALD

THEY'RE STAYING IN THE TRIPLETS' BEDS HELP

DONAAAAAAAAADLDAFAPOWEFK GUYS HE'S SO CUTE YOU GUYS. IDK WHY HE'S WEARING A SHIRT COVERED IN HIS HAT BUT IDC LOOK AT HEEEEEEEE (had to go one whole comic series without seeing him. heartbreaking)

Sorry I got distracted by Donald IMPORTANT PLOT STUFF IS HAPPENING OK. Dickie noooo don't leave your friends but also noooo don't give up on your life and dreams NOOOOO DICKIE

I guess you could say that.... LOVE WINS

GUYS WAIT THAT WAS REALLY CUTE LIKE I REALLY LIKED THAT WHOLE THING. I guess you could say the REAL music career was the friends we made a long the way.... or maybe more than friends looking at the ending :3c and also looking at the way that Dickie kept like kissing them both on the cheek. This was really fun though I would love to see more of the three of them, I have no idea if there are actual follow-ups to this cause I know Dickie is a pretty minor character who doesn't show up at lot but WAHH I LIKE HER. Like she stresses me out lowkey but I like her she's just silly. This was a refreshing break from the constant terror of PKNA, shoutout to the Donald cameo he was in 3 whole panels and that was really special to me. OK BYE!!!

DCRC Week 9 (Part 2)

Oh shit!! Is these ducks on the road??? YOU BET YOUR SWEET ASS THEY ARE!!! Anyways we're reading Ducks on the Road now which I'm super excited for because it features not one but THREE characters we've barely seen in the book club so far!!

This comic is LONG (I guess it's technically like 5 comics but we're reading them all in one go) so I'll probably end up having to extend this post with a few reblogs! So look out for those.

They're in.... VIRGINIA???? NOOOOOOOOOOO (person with irrational hatred of Virginia cause my whole extended family lives there so I have to travel there every holiday and it just kinda sucks there idk what to tell you. Also if Virginia is for lovers why is it called VIRGINia hm?? riddle me that BATMAN)

SCROOGE PAY YOUR FUCKING WORKERS also I love this outfit and haircut for Daisy she looks so cute here

Does this imply that Donald was living in Virginia beforehand because the implication that I'm only 1 state away from Donald is kind of frightening ngl. also Virginia sucks.

Did they hire Tuskerninni's cousin what's going on here. Actually this is the 70s it could probably BE Tuskerninni in an earlier life

I'm so used to talking about DT17 Gyro within my circles that I see Regular Gyro and it's like oh right!! He actually has joy and whimsy in his heart!! He's actually just a funny invention man who has totally not accidentally committed any atrocities in Tokyolk before!!!! He's also changed his hair color like four times

DON'T EAT THE GARBAGE SANDWICH WHAT ARE YOU DOOIIIIING

can somebody please help him he looks like an anxious chihuahua

How do you even leave piles of money on the floor to be blown away like that HELP I'm so stressed. Dickie get it together girl.

shoutout to these two and their cool accompanying text

HOW IS SHE SUCH A PUBLIC MENACE SHE'S LITERALLY JUST KINDA MID AT PLAYING GUITAR

She kissed him then IMMEDIATELY friendzoned him it was like a speedrun holy shit

Did he just headcanon Dickie and Daisy as lesbians? Because me too.

WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT AFTER AN EXAM WHY'D THEY DO HIM LIKE THAT 😭😭😭 nice presentation you LONELY IDIOT.

DICKIE YOU CAN'T PAINT A FUCKIGN RENTAL VAN OH MY GOD

Ah yes my favorite sign on the highway. The big one that just says "WEST"

YOU GUYS I AM SO STRESSED DICKIE IS GONNA GET THEM ALL KILLED IN A HORRIFIC ROAD ACCIDENT. ALSO HOW DID THEY ALREADY GET ALL THE WAY TO OKLAHOMA-

NVM THEY'RE NOT GONNA CRASH THEY'RE GONNA GET SHOT BY THIS GUY FOR HARBORING CRIMINALS

DAISY YOU CAN'T SAY THAT WORD. also i want these two guys dead they were mean to her >:(

GET A JOB STAY AWAY FROM HER

dork ass nerd and his dork ass math pajamas. and what I assume is a plush of Albert Einstein or something. NERD.

Oh ok so we're just not gonna acknowledge what they do about their tires being gone. Ok. No it's fine I guess that's like irrelevant information they probably just like... found some new tires on the side of the road or something..... yeah....

Anyways this is the part where I briefly end the post so I can attach more reactions with a reblog!

[cornchrunchie]

Vier Ideen für TM-Fanfics, die seit Jahren auf meiner Festplatte gammeln und die ich wahrscheinlich niemals schreiben werde, die aber zu gut sind, um sie zu vergessen:

Please, let them come to life!

1. Märchen AU. Die Prinzessin Nadeshda von Münsterland soll entgegen ihrer eigenen Interessen endlich den Bund der Ehe eingehen. Tapfere Männer des ganzen Königreichs werden zusammengerufen, um Heldentaten zu vollbringen und schließlich um ihre Hand anzuhalten. Unter ihnen die zwei Edelmänner Frank von Thiel und Karl-Friedrich genannt Boerne, von Sekunde eins erbitterte Feinde. Bis sie irgendwann erkennen, dass sie als vorübergehend Verbündete bessere Chancen aufs Überleben haben. Eine Schicksalsgemeinschaft, die bald zu mehr wird. Ob die Prinzessin am Ende überhaupt heiraten muss? Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Woods, Fighting Dragons, Riding Horses, Handsome Men in Handsome Outfits, Slash. Bonuspunkte für eine queere Nadeshda (die Frank und Karl-Friedrich heimlich hilft); Frau Klemm entweder als Königin oder verschrobene Hexe aus dem Wald; Herbert, der die beiden als Waldgeist verfolgt 2. Groundhog Day. Boerne ist in einer Zeitschleife gefangen und erlebt denselben Tag immer und immer wieder. Was ihm erst wie ein langes Déjà-vu erscheint, stellt sich bald als Wirklichkeit heraus, als ihm zum dritten Mal am selben Tatort dieselbe Leiche präsentiert wird. Nachdem er vergeblich versucht herauszufinden, wie es zu dieser Zeitschleife kam, merkt er, dass sich der Mordfall erst mithilfe dieser Zeitschleife lösen oder gar verhindern lässt. Die Lösung des Falls muss ihn zurück in die Realität holen. Womit er aber nicht rechnet, sind die ganzen anderen Dinge, die ihm in der Zeit auffallen werden. Hat Thiel ihn die letzten Male auch so angelächelt? War dieser Blick schon immer in seinen Augen? Und was würde wohl passieren, wenn er sich dieses Mal einfach anders verhält? Boerne wird sich seinen Gefühle für Thiel bewusst, traut sich aber nicht, einen ersten Schritt zu gehen, weil er Angst vor dem Moment hat, wenn alles wieder auf Null steht. Als sie es endlich schaffen, den Fall zu lösen, ist Boerne voller Hoffnung. Doch am nächsten Tag ist immer noch derselbe Tag. Kann das wirklich sein? Frustriert und enttäuscht davon entscheidet Boerne, seinen Gefühlen für Thiel nicht mehr länger im Weg zu stehen. Ihre gemeinsame Nacht ist besonders schön und Boerne will nicht dran denken, dass er am nächsten Morgen alleine in seiner eigenen Wohnung aufwachen wird. Oder? Tags: Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Crime Scene, Getting to know each other, Getting to know everything, Slash, Drama, Humor for all the times Boerne just fucking knows. Bonuspunkte für einen Thiel, der merkt, dass etwas mit Boerne nicht stimmt; Alberich als Comfort Person; Boerne, der beim Finale zur Lösung des Falls sein Leben für Thiel geben will, obwohl er denkt, dass er dieses Mal nicht einfach wieder aufwachen wird (but he doesn't care as long as Thiel gets to live) 3. Eine interaktive Geschichte, wie ein Spielbuch. Es passiert ein Mordfall in Münster, der kluge Ermittlungen erfordert. Wie immer ist man mit vielen Fragen konfrontiert, muss viele Entscheidungen treffen. Mit dem Unterschied, dass die Leser*innen hier an einigen Stellen selbst entscheiden können. Soll Thiel dem zwielichtigen Zeugen trauen oder ihn lieber noch mal beschatten? Einen Durchsuchungsbeschuss bei der Staatsanwältin beantragen, der wahrscheinlich zu lange dauert oder sich selbst Zutritt verschaffen, um wichtige Beweismittel zu sichern? Boerne anrufen und ihn womöglich in Gefahr bringen oder darauf vertrauen, dass es ihm gut geht? Es liegt an euch. Tags: Spannung, Friendship, Crime Scene, Verdeckte Ermittlungen, Dilemma, Moralisch fragwürdige Entscheidungen, Right or Wrong, Getting Saved, (Possible) Minor Character Death. Bonuspunkte für unterschiedliche Entscheidungen, die zur gleichen Situation führen können; mehrere erfolgreiche Wege; unerwartete Wendungen; Alberich mit gutem Rat; Mirko als Lebensretter; Frau Klemm mit den Worten "Und Sie haben wirklich gedacht, das wäre eine gute Idee?" 4. Kreuzfahrt. Boerne "gewinnt" (vielleicht gewinnt er sie wirklich, vielleicht hat er sie auch deadass einfach gekauft, aber sagt es nicht) zwei Tickets für eine Kreuzfahrt und überredet Thiel

dazu, ihn zu begleiten. Es ist natürlich alles viel zu teuer und viel zu schick, aber die Sonne scheint den ganzen Tag und irgendwie ist es ja auch ganz schön, mal ein bisschen Urlaub zu haben. Der Alkohol am Abend lockert Zunge und Gemüt und so kommt eines zum anderen. Wie praktisch, dass ihre Zimmer direkt gegenüber voneinander liegen ... Wahrscheinlich meine am wenigsten ausgeklügelte Idee, aber irgendwie kommt sie immer wieder. Tags: Kreuzfahrt ins Glück, From Friends to Sex to Lovers, Sexy Dinner With Suit And Everything, Wildes Geknutsche, Sonnenbrand auf der Haut, Meersalz auf der Zunge, Sightseeing, Foreign Languages, Internationale Gewässer. Bonuspunkte für die Crew, die Thiel und Boerne ohnehin für ein Paar hält; eine Person, die beide kennen und in einer unangenehmen Situation auf dem Schiff wiedertreffen; Alkohol von der Bar klauen, als die eigentlich schon geschlossen hat; Massage und Sauna auf Deck 4; Telefonate mit Leuten von zu Hause

[aceredshirt13]

Man, I really feel like a solid number of problems with Detroit: Become Human could be solved if Kara and Markus switched places.

Like, this is gonna be REALLY long, but hear me out - this is the basis of an AU I've been stewing over for a long long time which I would like to hope would make DBH into a game I could really say was good, instead of just a game where I thought 1/3 of it was really fun and enjoyable (read: Connor's route) and the others had some... problems. Switching Markus and Kara's places isn't going to fix everything, so there's definitely other stuff in regard to characterization (especially of female side characters), reworking and/or removing entirely the lazy and often inaccurate allegories to human oppression and civil rights movements, and, well, the whole situation with Alice, that I'm working to alter, but I think it's a great starting point to solve some of those problems on its own. It might be a little muddled right now, but I'm still working on it, so please forgive me.

(Since I briefly mention North's backstory, as well as delve into the trauma of a minor original character in a possible epilogue, tw for some very nonspecific discussion of sexual assault.)

In the beginning, the only real difference is that we spend some more time building the relationships. We see more scenes of Kara and Alice bonding since the very first day she came, but with Kara getting destroyed by Todd when she makes even the smallest of mistakes or logic-based attempts to stand up for Alice (it shouldn't be hard for a house android to come to the conclusion that you're not supposed to beat your child) and losing her memory each time. Therefore, we the audience knows the sort of Groundhog Day Kara is living in, although she does not. Similarly, we see the day Markus is given to Carl as a gift, with Kamski sending a letter that says something to the effect of, "I can't have my only real friend dying on me, Carl. You need somebody to take care of you. And since you aren't exactly a fan of most people, well, I think I've got a solution for you that doesn't involve one." We watch as Carl goes from skeptical to interested to fond, believing in Markus's humanity before deviance is even a speck in the media's eye, and watch as Markus slowly struggles to understand these new emotions forming within itself. Get some cute scenes for both two-character bonding experiences - Kara reading a story for Alice in her room, safely away from a passed-out Todd, as a rarely-peaceful-looking Alice falls asleep in her lap, or Markus pushing Carl on a walk in the park and having birds or butterflies land on both of them, and Markus laughing for the first time. I just wanted more with each pair - we get so much time to see Connor battle his growing feelings, and Hank warm up to and become fond of Connor, and that is nowhere near as in-depth with the other two routes in the game.

The switch happens just after the ends of the scenes where Kara and Markus become deviant. Markus goes the route of not fighting back against Leo, and thus has to watch the man he's just realized is his dad die of a heart attack in front of him. Leo blames him, Markus gets shot by the police, and he ends up in the android graveyard, just like in canon if that's the path you take. Kara becomes deviant and escapes with Alice, fighting Todd on the way out - but he's shooting at them as she leaps out the window, and Kara shields Alice with her own body. By the time they're far enough away from the house to catch them, Kara is so wounded that she's almost non-functional, and she collapses, telling Alice that she should leave her and run away. An understandably grieving Alice, thinking Kara is dead, drags her lifeless body to a nearby android junkyard in the futile hope that she will somehow find parts to fix her, despite not knowing anything about the inner workings of androids because she is literally a child.

(Note: Alice is human in this AU. Much was lost and nothing was gained by the reveal that Alice was an android because they did nothing with it - Kara neither questioned why on Earth child androids were allowed on the market in the first place, nor confronted her own probable internalized bigotry that would cause her to delude herself into thinking Alice was human. So for the sake of the bonding and love between child and machine that made their relationship so charming until that was shattered by the twist, Alice remains human in this AU, and those two issues are covered by other characters and their arcs, which will be mentioned eventually.)

Let's come back to Markus. He's struggling to drag himself through the graveyard, slowly finding bits and pieces of body parts that make him more mobile, but unable to find the necessary power core that pumps his blue blood. Running out of energy, he gives up, and collapses to the ground on his back, wallowing in pain both physical and emotional from abuse at the hands of law enforcement and devastating loss - when a power core is slowly nudged toward his barely-working hand.

Markus looks up, and finds a terrified, shivering little girl with tears drying on her face, clutching the arm of an android mangled beyond recognition - the head is almost entirely gone - and extending a power core that she had tried and failed to put inside the android she's clinging to. The newly orphaned android is revived, and finds it in him to protect this scared, seemingly abandoned child, who will barely speak of what she's been through, taking her with him as he tries to find somewhere to go.

Of course, that little girl is Alice.

Kara wakes up with a start in a place she's never seen before, with no memory of anything except for the name "Alice," the first thing she says when she reactivates. She's on a makeshift operating table inside a rusty boat, and an android woman with a torn-off arm and a satisfied expression stands above her, hands full of machine repair tools. It's North, the leader of Jericho, whose immense dislike for the human race is matched only by her grouchy compassion for her fellow androids - she makes a special point to aid disabled androids in their escape to Jericho, and either fix them when possible, or help them readjust when it isn't, as well as sparring with them and teaching them to defend themselves and each other. Sex androids were one of the first varieties on the market - go figure - , and she was one of the first androids whose lethal rebellion and escape was widely reported on in the media - as such, CyberLife has updated much of their software, and North's tech is now so outdated that no replacement arm is compatible with her. She doesn't mind too much, though - she sees it as the price she had to pay for freedom, and any price for that is worthy in her eyes.

North informs Kara that she found her at the dumpster alone and completely non-functional in body, but near-miraculously her mental processing unit was so minimally damaged that she could be saved (so you don't have the Connor problem where you find yourself wondering if those Connors all have different souls when any given Connor dies and is replaced). She was then put into a body made up of spare Kara parts and resuscitated here in Jericho - the only loss from the damage being her memories. North gives her a "tour" of Jericho, which isn't much given that it's pretty depressing and there's nothing to do but hide, sit around, and decompose, and Kara meets the secondary members in Jericho's makeshift leadership group, beginning with Josh, an educator and strategist (I was thinking that androids programmed for specific purposes only have specific preset access to certain information - you don't need a construction worker to know sex positions any more than you need a sex android to know how to operate a forklift. (...They only know how to operate a BACKHOE-)). He works in diplomacy, delegates tasks as a middle manager, and educates people - giving speeches, sending out pamphlets, preparing everyone for the best nonviolent protest strategies in order to win over as much of the public as possible. Josh, having been a college professor before his deviance, has a great deal of stored information which he uses to aid them. He was popular with his largely liberal students, and his deviance came from his fondness for and pride in them, both of which were quickly determined to be bugs and resulted in his pending removal and reprogramming. The students protested, and helped him escape, claiming he'd done it on his own. As a result, Josh is more or less the opposite of North - despite being well aware of their flaws, he has a deep and enduring love and faith in the inherent goodness of the human race. This is also where I bring in the discussion of internalized racism - where North values android life over human life, Josh values humans over androids, and is somewhat unconsciously stuck in a mindset of doubt in the validity of android sentience. As a result of being vehemently opposed, North and Josh frequently butt heads. Then, there's the third leader, who has traded places into this route along with Kara - Luther, the former longshoreman-turned mediator and makeshift therapist, who dedicates his time to resolving conflicts and helping androids understand their budding emotions. He sees the good and bad in both sides, and thus chooses not take one, just doing as much as he can to make things a little bit better.

Kara sees the sorry state of both Jericho and many of its residents, who have been wounded and mistreated for a half a dozen reasons - most of which were simply because their owners or users didn't believe them to be any more alive than a toaster or a Roomba. As she hears their stories, and the positives and negatives (though North is decidedly evasive when she discovers that Kara doesn't remember the news about her escape), there are flickers and flashes of memory that appear in her mind: a half dozen lifetimes of bearing witness to Todd's abuse, though the details and faces are fuzzy; being broken, then brought back, and then broken again, for only following instructions, or giving advice, or trying to do her job. These memories, along with Jericho's unpromising situation, are what begins to radicalize her - what makes Kara think larger than trying to just manage a permanent safehouse, and instead aim for revolution.

See, this comes down to the biggest reason I made the switch. Not just because I like to have a lady kick ass, though it is certainly appreciated, but because it doesn't make any sense for Markus to be the voice of a movement talking about how inhumanely androids are being treated when his owner was pretty much his dad. (And despite the word "owner," it's really not fair to draw comparisons between androids and slaves; after all, slaves were always sentient, living people with emotions and families and lives like any other person. Excuses were made to dehumanize them, and treat them as animals. Androids didn't begin their existence as any sort of life, so it's much less conceivable that everyone would believe they'd become alive at the drop of a hat. Unless you're aware a particular android is sentient, owning one is nowhere near comparable to owning a slave.) Who is he to speak of humans being the abusers, when while he's certainly suffered through some shit, the most important kind and loving force in his life was a human, too? Kara works as a better example because the abuse from Todd was chronic, and very specifically still happened when she did what he said - but she has the bond with this small adorable human to prove that not all humans are cruel. In my eyes, she's a much better leader for the revolution - not to mention the fact that since Markus is currently taking care of Alice, he's able to try and use the parental techniques that he'd begun to realize Carl was using on him.

Speaking of Markus, let's catch up with him again. Like Kara's route in the original, Markus's is much more character-driven than plot-heavy.

To complete the switch mentioned earlier, rather than having Luther as his guard, it is, somewhat unexpectedly, Simon. (Childcare androids are equipped to be quite agile, deft, and strong in order to keep up with the children they're looking after, so they actually make pretty good guards.) A former daycare assistant kidnapped by Zlatko for his experiments, he remembers nothing and feels nothing until he sees Alice, which by instinct causes him to crouch down to her and smile, handing her her dropped fox plushie when she's hiding from Zlatko instead of selling her out. In the end, after Markus is taken and has to fight through Zlatko's brainwashing to remember who he is and save Alice, it ends up being Simon who helps them escape, being the one to point the gun and stop Zlatko in his tracks to buy enough time for his Sid Toy Story creations to tear him apart. Of course, Markus and Alice let Simon run away with them.

I'm biased with those switches, I will admit, just because I had a soft spot for both of those concepts as ships even though Kara and Markus didn't exactly get the most in-depth characterization, and I wanted to use this opportunity to write not just about Kara and Markus falling in love with Luther and Simon, but also their relationships with everyone else - Markus's relationship to Alice and how he incorporates his memories of Carl into trying to raise her, Kara butting heads with North who eventually admits her insecurity and jealousy of Kara, as well as finally revealing her past (which is, yeah, about as ugly as it was in the game - murdering a human who's abusing you in order to escape an establishment that won't acknowledge your sentience and forces you to be sexually assaulted) and they come away from it as friends with a better understanding of each other's strengths, Kara helping Josh understand the value in being an android, all of that. She becomes the group's leader, orator, keeper of morale, and maker of hard decisions.Unlike in the story which pretended to be ambiguous about it, it's very clear that, at any rate, the other characters view Kara as rA9 - when she accidentally awakens the security guard at their CyberLife warehouse break-in, that combined with Kara's name (I thought it would be sort of funny for Kara to be part of a relatively new model series, and for her serial number to show that she's the ninth Kara unit ever produced - if part of her serial number was worn off in her near-death experience with Todd, then it could straight up say RA9) ends up causing a decent number of the people in the rebellion to view her as the android Messiah - something that instead of her just immediately embracing and becoming a robot Jesus Mary Sue about (like Markus), she struggles with greatly. If androids aren't alive at the start, is it fair or consensual to make them so without their knowledge? Is she really some sort of magical leader, and if so, how is she supposed to live up to that reputation? Luther is one of the only people that doesn't necessarily believe she's an all-powerful being, and just that she's a remarkable android, and he becomes a friend to confide in and shoulder to lean on when she's struggling the most - especially when it comes to her stance for the revolution that stands smack in the middle of North and Josh's beliefs: all protests and actions in their movement detest violence, but at the same time, if they come peacefully and are nonetheless attacked, they will not just stand there and die. (She also convinces North and Josh to see each other's sides - for North to have compassion for the good in people, and for Josh to understand that sometimes you have to defend yourself and have no other choice.)

Markus's insecurities end up revolving around both his notion of family and his inexperience with kids - it's not really what he was designed for and he isn't accustomed to it, and even as he falls in love with Simon, he envies his ease with her - to which Simon retorts that though he's good at talking to her and cheering her up, Markus excels in being there for Alice in moments of need, and Alice shows very clearly how much she cares for both of them. In fact, when they reach Jericho and Alice and Kara reunite (which is what causes the last remaining memories Kara has to flood back in an instant), Markus and Simon are trying to hide their sadness because they think their time as Alice's caregivers (read: dads) is done, but Alice loves them no less - she's just regained a mom along with her two dads (and will get another dad in the form of Luther by the time the game is done).

I haven't mentioned Connor this whole time, and like I said, that's because the vast majority of his route stays the same. There are alterations, of course - in the scene where he becomes deviant, it's Kara he's pointing the gun at, and rather than being there alone, she's with the other members of the main cast. Connor would not be forced to contend with just shooting Kara - it would be shooting Kara in front of a number of androids who care about her and a scared little human girl. Connor, being an advanced android built for police investigation, already has natural fighting skill and physical prowess better than almost everyone he'd be facing (Luther being the only exception, but Connor's probably quicker than he is, and Luther is never one to initiate a fight), so he can calculate that even if they all came at him at once, he'd have a fairly high rate of success - and even if he didn't, his destruction would likely cause the police to find Jericho and put his memories in another Connor, anyway. But, of course, Connor has begun developing that nasty thing called empathy and feelings. Even as Connor points the gun at Kara, she says she won't forcibly change him - that's the point she's reached thus far in the game. She's tired of forcing someone to be something against their will, and she A. has enough faith that Connor is already on the verge of deviance to think she won't have to turn him herself and B. isn't terribly afraid to take a bullet if he doesn't because she'll die to protect her family and friends if she has to. But like I said, this is a largely minor change.

The main change I'm interested in with Connor's route comes in regard to Amanda.

Amanda, is one of the two characters in this story that confused me the most, the other being Kamski, because I could not for the life of me figure out what their motivations were supposed to be. For the sake of this story, Kamski is more or less like "well I didn't THINK the androids would become deviant but damn that's crazy" and is kind of passively watching the events, thinking about how it'd be interesting no matter which side wins. Granted, Kamski doesn't play much of a role in my concept beyond that side role and the fact that he's an old friend of Carl. But Amanda's character bothers me because it seems like she has no motivations of her own. She wants Connor to remain a machine for the sake of CyberLife, but then if he becomes deviant she's like "oh but ACTUALLY this is what we wanted ALL ALONG" despite there being no real evidence of that, or what CyberLife would even gain from having the android revolution unless they want to basically use the rebellion to conquer the world with androids, which doesn't really seem like something Kamski wants? The game's got a whole lot of muddled storytelling, anyway - I think it kind of lost the plot in some ways because it got too wrapped up in wanting to have a ton of different endings. It means that instead of coming off as a ruthless villain, she just seems... really inconsistent. So I've been playing with an interpretation of her that I think is a bit more interesting.

First of all, let's simplify it a bit. None of the reactionary BS of "oh this is what we planned all along!" Amanda's goal, as set by CyberLife, is to hunt down deviants and prevent any other androids from becoming anything more than machines. The way we do this, I think, is that CyberLife's motivations are purely corporate. If your product becomes sentient and demands civil rights, well, how are you gonna make money off of that? Suddenly, people start saying you're violating moral and ethical mores, and pretty soon if people get the perception that you're selling eventual people, you aren't gonna get any business anymore. The company's not headed by Kamski anymore, so it's fair to say the current CEO could just be someone who's like, y'know, it doesn't matter to me whether that's a bug or whether they're really alive or not. Official story is that it's a bug. Get rid of the deviants, and get back to making bank. But in the canon game, Amanda is clearly not just a puppet, and is very capable of lying and manipulating and thinking for herself. It's pretty obvious that she's not just any regular machine. So why not have her develop separate motivations for her urging of Connor to nip deviancy in the bud?

Why not have Amanda be a deviant herself?

Officially, Amanda's mission is corporate. Kamski created her, she became deviant, and then the current CEO was like "well, who better to hunt down deviants than a deviant?" You know, like Blade hunting vampires, or Dexter chasing serial killers. But the greatest struggle of deviancy is being forced to contend with emotions that violate logic, and go against things that you know you should do for someone or something else's sake - sometimes even your own. As far as we can tell, Amanda is really only a "handler" for Connor - we never see her in any other situation - so it's very possible that she only exists inside Connor's Zen Garden/mind palace. In this universe, we can assume that Connor is probably a special or at least very rare model, so in effect, the only Amanda and the only Connor are acquainted with each other. If Amanda is a deviant, it's not unreasonable to believe that over time, watching his actions, guiding him, she could grow to see him as something of a son, and an object of pride. She's thus disappointed when he begins breaking the rules set for him by her and the company who sent her, but not just because of the sake of the rules - because Amanda knows how difficult and painful being a deviant is. I mean, at least other deviants can interact with reality, right? Amanda can exist only inside Connor's mind, watching reality through his eyes, completely trapped, while forced to acknowledge the fact that she's a deviant despite being trained to dislike them, and the fact that she's growing attached to Connor even as he goes against everything she's been told to believe. When Connor is holding that gun up to Kara, it is still Amanda telling him to shoot - that this deviance nonsense needs to end now, that it either isn't real or it just isn't right for androids to feel - because she knows if Connor deviates, he will suffer the same emotions that she does. It becomes Connor talking to her, and telling her all of the wonderful things that have happened to him - slowly winning over Hank from enemy to ally, playing with Sumo, befriending his coworkers, and that even the emotions that make him miserable make him feel alive. When he becomes deviant, he doesn't erase his programming like in the ending where Amanda tries to trap him in his own mind - what he does is he finds away to channel that programming into access to the Internet and every other chain of data and information transferred between technological devices, and sends Amanda there. Instead of destroying her - the woman that he's grown to see as a mother - he does the closest thing he can to setting her free.

By the end, most things are the same. There are a few main differences I wanted to discuss, namely involving the protests. These are not just androids that are protesting - it's many sympathetic humans marching with them as well. In the brief segments you see from the viewpoint of the American president, you see that there are shots of the movement spreading worldwide: marches in everywhere from Britain, to Brazil, to Nigeria, to India, to Japan (which already has a long history of robotics in the first place and I like to think would be one of the earliest places to consider giving androids rights). The singing present in the game as an option felt so genuinely cheesy and on-the-nose evocative of black spirituals that I think I'd pass on that - rather, I think a more impactful scene would be for the main cast, all together after the assault on Jericho, to be faced by gun-wielding police, and they think, well, this is it. We're going to die. But it is Alice, who has understandably spent most of the game shy, and fearful, and silent, who pushes through the marching crows and stands in front of them, her small arms spread out as if to shield them, crying as she does. They're the only people in the world who have ever been kind to her. At this, the resolve of the police officers begin to fragment - some slowly hesitate, others straight-up drop their weapons, while others keep their guns firmly trained on all of them, intending to kill the kid if necessary. It collapses into chaos, with the officers arguing amongst themselves about what they should do, some of them beginning to physically fight one another, while others walk over to the marchers and join with them. This gives enough time for everyone to escape, and eventually in order to protect Alice, Markus and Simon take her with them to escape to Canada, just like in the canon game, and that series of events follows more or less the same way. As Kara and co.'s efforts continue, eventually, the president (whose advisor has been like "hey a six-year-old abuse victim told the police not to kill the only people she's ever called a family and shielded them with her body, so it would probably be bad for your numbers if you called in the national guard to kill them the second the kid is gone”) calls off the assault. The skirmish is over. The movement has won.

Obviously, there are still things to work out, and still a whole lot of displeased people - humans and androids alike - to worry about causing potential major unrest. So as Kara and the gang participate in lawmaking, Connor and Hank hug it out just like they do in the game, while Markus and Simon watch over Alice and enjoy domestic life in Toronto, waiting it out until peace is guaranteed. It ends with Alice - who has held onto her fox plushie the whole game, I couldn't believe she didn't get to keep that with her all along smh - lying on her bed and looking at the ceiling, curled up under her blankets and cuddling her fox - and for the first time in the whole story, she really, truly smiles.

(Finally, while as promised I did mention struggles with internalized racism as related to Josh and Amanda in my narrative, I didn't get to mentioning speculation on the existence of child androids. This is because it's something I see as more of an epilogue or a brief afterthought than a part of the main story. For the most part, I don't think child androids would exist. I feel like there would be enough complaints about selling machines that look and act like real children and never grow up that the company would recall them pretty quickly or just scrap the idea from the start. After all, I can't imagine that anyone buying a permanent android child is someone that is in a mentally healthy place for a number of reasons - the fact that one of the bittersweet joys of parenthood is watching a child grow up, for example. Fair warning, from here on it gets a lot darker than my abovementioned theories.

I think CyberLife still had prototypes and other small numbers of leftover child androids before they scrapped the project, and what happens is that they are given to the police, FBI, and CIA as a reference to something I've occasionally seen popping up in the news - the idea of someday using child androids as a sting operation to catch pedophiles. Obviously, this is a good idea in theory - catching sexual predators while not hurting anyone in the process - but this... goes very, very badly when the androids begin becoming sentient. Especially since the commonly-held belief for quite a while is that the sentience isn't real, and thus androids are made to do their jobs nonetheless. This is not unlike what North was forced to experience, but even worse given that despite having the intelligence of androids, these models still have the maturity and behavior of an actual child. So I had briefly considered an epilogue scene where a slightly older Alice is attending school in Canada as she, Markus, and Simon wait out the details of the revolution, and realizes one of her quiet, skittish classmates - a boy named Yuki - is actually a deviant escapee from the SVU unit of a branch of the American police department. Not really sure where it would go, but thought it would be an interesting, if disturbing, opportunity to delve into the why of child androids existing in this near-future environment.)

[ordinaryschmuck]

An Issue Worth Discussing: Laughing at the Male Body (CW: Talks of Nudity)

You wanna know what's weird to me?

More often than not, it's considered funny to see a man naked, but not so much a woman?

Or rather, it's more common to see jokes about a man's naked body than it is to see a woman's.

Now, I'm not saying that haven't been attempts to poke fun at a female being in the nude. After all, there can be some humor that comes with the awkwardness of a person being in that situation. However, by using an actor that Hollywood considers "attractive," it comes with the question if it's a joke or if it's sex appeal. Especially since there are people who fetishes that type of s**t.

But even if it could be either-or, it definitely seems like you're more likely to get away with it if the actor is male. Look at the Netflix movie Naked, a Groundhog's Day-esque story about a man reliving the same day about waking up naked in an elevator. I try to imagine if that movie would have still been made if it was the opposite gender, and honestly, but I don't think it would have. Because if it's a man, people would think it's a comedy. If it was a woman, people would assume it's a porno.

But, hey, that's an R-rated movie. It's not like this s**t happens in children's media...except that it does.

I remember several times as a kid where a movie or series would make a joke about a character being naked, and more often than not, it's the fact that it was a man that made it funny. There were even times when you had to see a character's full, naked butt. And sometimes, it was even a minor! Again, I tried to imagine if that would have been allowed if the character was female. And again, the answer no.

Now, I'm NOT saying that we should balance this out with more women being naked. Far from it. All I'm doing is asking a question: Why is it considered funny to see a man naked but sexy to see a woman naked? Because I'm in my twenties, and I still don't understand this mentality.

I don't know what point I'm making with this, or even if there is a point. It's just a weird thing that I couldn't help but notice after a lifetime of sitting on my ass and watching movies and TV.

[adsevel]

Confused surely was a word to use for this whole situation. As sudden as it was with his minor comment on the surrounding's bustling - atmosphere - now changing and shrinking down to his guest and their [ his? ] new friend. Eyes follow whatever movement Ji Soo would make, follow from the way their arms would twitch in all but physical 'anguish' from hands being maimed by the animal's attempt to be released and how said animal now was left free to scurry around the shopkeeper's premises - ah well. 

Jinta and Ururu would likely have fun with their new little housemate. 

" Hm? Oh! " Attention snapped back to Ji Soo after watching the little guy waddle away and begin to dig through some empty boxes he had just priorly left out to ultimately throw away. Now it's the Groundhog's home, apparently. Or a part of it. Ah well! Tessai would probably be interested in creating something magnificent. " That would depend! If you go for the Groundhog day for the current year, then it would be too late, if you go for the next year, then it would be too early. What do you like more, Ji Soo? "

"Gehehehe..."

A groundhog's mild squirming is nothing compared to the might of Yoo Ji Soo's love! ... However, they're starting to feel something prickly (teeth? or claws? hmmm... maybe both!) and, as such, have decided enough was enough for Mister Groundhog.

Can groundhogs land on their feet, always, like a cat? They didn't think that was the case, nor were they particularly keen on finding out. Extending their arms as low as they could, they give one light, gentle squeeze (fuzzy.) before releasing.

"I tried my be~eeeest!!"

It lands with a dull thud but, otherwise, appears to have sustained zero damage. Why, it was already plopping back onto all fours and waddling in place. Alive? Yes! Confused? Probably! Overall, though, that was good-- very, very, very good! Ji Soo rather liked the little guy and, well... they thought groundhogs were just neat.

"S'a little early for groundhog day, though, don't ya think, Mister Kisuke?"

[lqtraintracks]

👋 7 and 10 for the end of year asks pls!

Hey lovely! I’m going to choose 10 here and answer 7 in someone else’s. But for @tackytigerfic who also asked for 10, here you guys are! :D 10. What, if anything, are you going to try to do differently in your writing in the new year? You know, I keep trying to write differently, as in not like myself, but I keep failing at that, or I feel like I do. Something very much me always creeps in and takes over the whole thing. I feel like I’m almost writing exactly the same fic over and over and over again, like a Groundhog Day fic, and it’s just that the titles and some small plot things change, but essentially it’s the same. Do other authors feel this way? I’m in the middle of a long fic, and I will say that I want to pace it well and have new tensions arise organically. I want to resolve plot points in satisfying but not entirely predictable ways. As for how I sit down to write, I’d like to be able to write little bits in the small openings life gives rather than waiting for my two days off a week, and then one of those days is ultimately full of errands and cleaning and such, so that one day has so much pressure to use it well and write a lot. Maybe if I write a little in these pockets of time, I’ll actually get more writing done? Though I find that difficult with a long story like I’ve got right now. I feel like I need to sink into it and live there in order to get the characters and their situations and feelings right. I want to have some big, cool answer for this, like, “I want to create a new point of view that no one’s ever written from before! I’ll call it Eleventh POV, and it will be from the POV of such a minor character that they don’t actually exist!” But truthfully, my goal next year is the same as it always is: to improve. To write maybe a new trope I’ve never tackled before. To write more short things and different pairings. Maybe to play with style a bit in ways I haven’t before or in ways I haven’t in some time. *shrugs* Maybe I’ll join a fest again? Not sure. I definitely want to keep writing on my original novel as well. I’d like to see a big chunk of that done by the end of next year, maybe the whole thing--who knows? Thanks so so much for the Ask! I really appreciate it! <3

[intrepidacious]

time after time - masterlist

summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x time witch!reader

series word count: 63.1k+

warnings: f!reader; more or less canon compliant; time loops, canon typical violence, repeated major character death (in a russian doll/supernatural's mystery spot sort of way); slow burn, mutual annoyance to reluctant friends to lovers; negative self-talk; just a lot of angst (but with an eventual happy ending i promise!!); lots of banter; hella self-indulgent 💚

this series is set after the events of the falcon and the winter soldier and will include spoilers for marvel projects up to and including multiverse of madness

a/n: welcome to the fic i've been thinking about for almost a year!! i am beyond excited and terrified to finally start sharing this. if you want to get notified whenever i post a new chapter, you can follow @intrepidacious-fics and turn on notifications or follow along on my ao3 💚

please mind that my blog is 18+ only, minors and ageless accounts will be blocked

✨ this series is ongoing; last update 08/11/24

my chapters are on the long side so they will also be posted in parts for easier reading in the app; the parts and the full chapters are identical contentwise

one: turn back the clock ↳ Bucky gets killed during a mission and you accidentally start a time loop | 6.0k

two: twice upon a time ↳ You struggle to cope with your new situation and meet a sorcerer | 8.2k

three: every day’s a holiday ↳ Ten days into the loop, you finally decide to ask for help | 10.1k

four: groundhog day ↳ Library heists, bad ideas, and a decision | 9.2k

five: carousel ↳ Bucky has a secret and you have a revelation | 10.9k

six: butterfly effect ↳ You go back to the start, and something changes | 12.8k

seven

eight

nine

ten

eleven

twelve

epilogue

bonus chapters

these are mostly set outside of the time loop; not required reading, but there will be some nods to these in the main story. bonus chapters can be read in any order and without knowing the main story

frequently asked questions about time travel ↳ Five times people asked you something about time travel, and one time you’re desperate for an answer yourself

eternal sunshine of the spotless mind ↳ One day in Bucky's time loop

57 seconds ↳ How Bucky met Twelve

somewhere in time ↳ a bantery little snippet that was cut for time from the main story

cause and effect ↳ How Bucky fell in love with Twelve: Slowly, and then all at once.

fun stuff

🎵 series playlist

#️⃣ browse the series tag

moodboard by @barnesafterglow 💚

moodboard by @sweetascanbee 💚

moodboard by @idkitsem 💚