#they would’ve been the worst ever parents but also the absolute best

[houseswife]

doomed tragic yaoi is all fun and games until you start pondering the Life They Could’ve Had

[writeandsurvive]

Through it all ~ Manny Perez

Author's note: first work for Captain Perez from Fire Country! this show became my absolute fav, and I have a soft spot for Manny! I hope there are several others like me out there! Summary: Pregnancy scare leads to a long awaited convo and decisions Warnings: age gap, pregnancy (talk), kinda smut towards the end

Keeping a relationship secret in a small town like Edgewater isn’t an easy thing to do. Especially when you’ve lived there most of your life and know basically everyone. Even more when the person you are dating works for Cal Fire and more specifically, is the Captain of Three Rock. But somehow, you and Manny Perez managed to do it. For almost two years. 

At first, keeping it a secret was the best thing to do, for everyone. You were quite younger than Manny, became friends with his daughter Gabriela, and so close to the Leones, you feel like one of them. You grew up with Bode and Riley, making Vince and Sharon your surrogate parents. Manny respects them way too much to do anything to jeopardize his friendship with them. After all, he considers that Sharon saved his life when she welcomed him into Three Rock several years ago, allowing him to turn his life around.

But time went by. You and Manny were very much in love, becoming pretty serious. Or so you thought, until that day when everything came crashing down. 

You thought you were pregnant. Your period was late, which never happens. You felt tired, your breasts were hurting. This could’ve been just PMS symptoms but something didn’t feel like it was. You thought about getting a pregnancy test, but you knew everyone at the pharmacy. So, you ordered it online and the next day, there it was.

A part of you wanted to do this with Manny, but you were also scared. The baby (and wedding) talk was something that has been avoided through the entire relationship. Him being older, having a grown up daughter, being divorced… Did he want to do it all over again? The most likely answer was no. And this would’ve put an end to your relationship cause you didn’t imagine your life without kids. Weddings could be discussed. 

So, you did the test. Set the alarm for a few minutes, and waited. 

Negative. 

You cried. Bawled, actually. If you put aside what could go wrong with this, you wanted a baby. A part of you hoped you were pregnant. You loved Manny with all your heart, you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. You wanted to carry his child. 

You don’t remember how long you stayed in the bathroom crying. But it was long enough for Manny to come in, find you in there and ask what was wrong, as he held you close to his chest. 

“I thought I was pregnant and we were gonna have a baby” You admitted through the tears, pointing at the test sitting on the sink. 

Manny didn’t react immediately. Your face was still hiding in his neck, so you couldn’t see his face. He stayed silent for a long time, just holding you, kissing the top of your head. But you could hear his heart beating faster. Was this a good sign?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispered.

“We never talked about this. I didn’t know how you’d react. I still don’t, actually.”

He stayed silent again. So, you had to ask. 

“Are you sad or relieved that I’m not pregnant, Manny?”

“I don’t know.” He continued to hold you but the long silence afterwards broke your heart more than those words did. 

That led to the worst weeks ever. You had the baby talk, and Manny admitted that he didn’t know if he wanted another child or not. “I’m old enough to be a grandpa.” He kept repeating. Technically, that was true. But you never cared about his age. You would try to kiss him and playfully joke that he’d be a sexy young grandpa but deep down you could see the doubt in his mind growing more and more as he became increasingly distant.

He cared about your age.

Eventually, the answer was no. He didn’t want any more kids. He didn’t want to get married again. And you didn’t see your life without kids. There was no compromise possible. So, you broke up. Your heart shattered and your bed always felt cold now without him there every night.

The rough part of this breakup was having to hide how broken-hearted you were. No one knew, and there was no point to them knowing now. You had to pretend. And so had Manny. Everytime you ran into him, you stared at each other like two lost puppies. It was surprising that no one noticed. You were not okay, and neither was he. 

Whenever you saw him at Smokey’s, having a drink - by himself or with someone - you approached him softly, touching his arm or shoulder if he was seated. “How many?” You’d gently asked. His past struggle with alcohol worried you. 

“Not many, don’t worry, cariño.” He’d smiled. You believed him.

At some point, pretending was just too much, so you found an arrangement with your job to work remotely and left Edgewater to visit family many miles away. You stayed there for several weeks. You needed to cut it off to get over Manny. Not that you actually believed that you could. 

When you came back to town, you gave a heads up to Vince and Sharon only. And of course, they immediately invited you over for dinner. You were only slightly better, and had started accepting the breakup. Avoiding Manny a little more should help. 

That was until you saw him at the Leone's house. In his Cal Fire comfy clothes, sitting on the couch with Vince as they watched some sports. Did they invite him too?

Vince immediately jumped off the couch to hug you, your feet no longer touching the floor. “I missed you sweetie.” He kissed your forehead. 

“I missed you too, Vince.”

Manny hadn’t moved from the couch, clearly as shocked as you by the encounter. You slowly approached him as he stood up, and hugged each other awkwardly. He looked like he hasn’t slept in weeks, maybe dropped a few pounds too. His scent immediately intoxicated you. Could this hug last forever? 

“Manny is staying with us, so he’ll join us for dinner.”

Staying with them? You clearly missed something while you were gone. 

While Vince helped Sharon in the kitchen, you and Manny sat down on the couch. “Why are you staying with them?” You asked. 

“It’s—“ he cleared his throat. “A long story. Don’t worry about it. How was your vacation?”

“It wasn’t a vaca— don’t change the subject, Manny. What’s going on?”

The Leones came back with some drinks, to Manny’s relief. But you were not giving up. 

It was hard to focus on the Leones and what they were saying, no matter how interesting, or intriguing it was. You couldn’t take your eyes and mind off Manny, who stayed pretty silent the entire evening. When there was a moment of silence during dinner, you lost control of your own mouth. 

“You’re catching me up with everything that happened in town, except for the most evident thing.” You stared at Manny. “Is there a big secret you’re all keeping from me that I’m not supposed to know about?”

Vince and Sharon looked at each other before looking at Manny. Clearly, it was his decision to explain or keep it a secret. 

“It’s not like nobody knows,” Sharon said. 

“It’s also not that easy to admit what a screw up I am, especially to–” Manny let go of his fork and stood up, “Excuse me.” You all watched him as he left the house. 

You didn’t think for too long before standing up too and following him outside. He was sitting in his car, engine on. You opened the passenger door and joined him inside.

“Going somewhere?”

He huffed. “Like I have somewhere else to go.”

“My place?” You offered.

“We broke up.”

“Doesn’t make us strangers, does it?”

He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel, so you moved on the edge of your seat to get closer, and ran your hand through his messy hair. He only tilted his head to the side to take a look at you. “Talk to me, amor.” you whispered.

“I handled our break up poorly,” the volume of his voice met yours. “I didn’t handle it at all, actually.” his eyes started to fill with tears. “At first, I just wanted to take my mind off things– off you. It was to be one night, one game. But I won, and wanted to win more. And it was sorta working, you know? As I was playing, I wasn’t focusing on you, on us, on how unfair this is.” A single tear started to roll down his cheeks. “I’ve lost everything. My money, Gabriela’s money, my house, my insurance. And on top of that, I don’t have you anymore either.” He sat back properly on his seat, taking a few deep breaths. “I’m a fucking mess.”

You held his hand for a brief moment, before pulling on it so he would get closer. His face rested on your chest, he was trying really hard not to cry too much. On the other hand, tears were rolling down your cheeks. 

“It doesn’t matter what our relationship is, you’ll always have me, Manny. Through it all.” You kiss the top of his head, “I’ll help you get back on your feet.”

He immediately sat back up, like we triggered him. “I’m not taking money from you. I already owe 10,000 bucks to Vince.”

“Fine, but that’s not what I was talking about. Are you getting professional help?”

“Not yet, I–”

“Then you will. If staying with Vince and Sharon suits you, then stay there. Otherwise, you know my door is open. How’s your relationship with Gabs?”

“Stop it. This is not up to you to fix me. I’m a grown man, I can do this by myself.”

“It wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t broken up.”

“We wouldn’t have broken up, if I agreed to have kids.”

“But you don’t and that’s okay. I get it.”

“Good, cause I don’t. What if I’m missing my second chance in life? What if–” he looked straight into your eyes, “I’m missing my one true chance at happiness?”

Manny Perez went through so many bad things over the years. Being a quite young dad, prison, money issues, rocky relationship with Gabriela’s mother leading to a bad divorce, alcoholism and now the break up and gambling. This man is one of the best humans you’ve ever met, but life keeps throwing curve balls at him. He deserves the world, and all you want is to give it to him. 

You didn’t have any words at this very moment. All you wanted was to hold him, kiss him and never let go. So that was exactly what you did. You moved as close as possible to him, grabbed him by his neck and planted your lips on his. You were both needy, like two junkies getting their fix. While never stopping the kiss, you found yourself straddling his lap before you realized. 

“Te quiero,” you whispered between kisses. It drives Manny crazy whenever you talk in Spanish to him. 

“Yo te quiero mas.” 

His hands were all over you, and yours all over him. Manny buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking on your sensitive spot only he knows so well, earning a moan from you. 

Neither of you saw nor heard Vince getting out of the house, until he knocked at the car’s window. You immediately jumped off Manny, trying to make yourself presentable. Manny tried to hide his growing erection the best he could before opening the window. 

“How long?” was the first thing Vince asked.

“Two years.” Manny answered. “But it’s–over,”

Vince couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh, is it?”

“It’s complicated, V.” you said, “Do you need something?”

“At this very moment, answers. But I suppose I’ll have to wait. Are you sleeping here tonight, Cap, or–somewhere else?”

You and Manny looked at each other for a moment. 

“I have custody for the night.” You tried to joke. 

“Don’t feed him after midnight.” Vince bent over a little to kiss our forehead before leaving. 

“Drive us home, Gizmo. We need to talk.”

“Alright, but drop the joke right now.”

He knew you better than that.

The ride was silent. Both in your own thoughts. 

Manny didn’t get out of the car when he pulled over at your place, but got him to follow you inside in the end. He had barely taken off his shoes, that your arms were around his middle, and you tiptoed to kiss his lips. 

“This is probably not a good idea, cariño.” He said, even though he intensified the kiss. 

“I honestly don’t care right now.” 

You walked backwards to your bedroom while still kissing each other, and Manny didn’t fight for even a second. He gently laid you down on the bed, getting on top of you. It didn’t take long until clothes were flying across the room. “I missed you.” He confessed, touching you everywhere he could. “Why did you leave?”

“It was too hard staying here, seeing you almost everyday. I had to get some distance, to process and accept.”

His strong naked body was covering yours. His hard cock was pressing against your wet pussy. His forehead against yours, his nose stroking yours, he softly asked, “And did you?”

“Does it look like I did?”

He chuckled and you kissed his dimple. “I need you, Manny.”

“Need you more.” On those words, he slowly entered you. 

Sex with Manny has always been amazing since the first time. He was your perfect match, and you were his. You discovered several things with him, and you both tried new things together. And every single time was mind blowing. But that night wasn’t about that. That night, he made love to you, like it was the last time ever. It felt both amazing and heartbreaking. 

But it couldn’t be the last time. 

“Maybe I don’t need kids to be happy.” You said as you were both lying down and cuddling. “Maybe I just need you.”

Manny didn’t react immediately. You could hear he was taking deep breaths, probably trying to get a hold on his emotions. After several seconds, he rolled to the side and rested on his elbow. “No.” He just said. 

“No?” You looked at him, confused. 

“You want kids. You want to be a mom. I’ve seen you with kids, I’ve seen you cry when the test came back negative.”

“But the thing is I don’t want kids with someone other than you.” Your tone was sharp, because you were getting angry. Why was he fighting on this? This was your decision. 

“For now.” 

“For fuck sake’s, Manny! I know what I want and don’t want, okay? I’d rather be with you, and not have kids, than be with someone else and have kids with them.” 

“You’re sacrificing yourself.”

“I’m making a choice. I’m choosing you.”

His voice broke. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I love you, Manuel Perez.” You stroked his cheek, “Sorry. Manuel Gizmo Perez.”

He laughed and kissed you. 

~

Over the next weeks, Manny went to counseling with your support. For everyone - especially Gabriela -, he was still living with the Leones, but the reality was he spent all of his nights at your place, where he belonged. He still refused your money, but got a second job on a boat to help pay his debts. It didn’t give him a lot of free time or even time to rest, so you tried to make it as easy as possible for him. You made sure he ate properly, slept the bare minimum, you even helped with Three Rock paperwork. 

“She’s my rock, Vince.” He admitted to his friend, as they were having a drink together. “She’s been amazing to me and I can’t even—get her something. Invite her to a restaurant, a gate away or something.” 

“That’ll come, man. For now, all she needs is for you to be okay.” 

“I have to say I’m surprised you didn’t kick my ass when you found out. I know you love her like your own daughter.”

“I do. To be honest, Shar and I have been suspicious for a while, and we agree she can’t find a better man than you. I mean, we’ve met her exes—“ he laughed and Manny joined. 

“Doesn't the age difference—shock you?”

“You’re both grown adults. But can I say something you may not enjoy hearing?”

“Go ahead, Chief.”

“She’s meant to be a mom.”

Vince didn’t know how right he was. But you and Manny agreed you wouldn’t tell anyone about the pregnancy before he told Gabriela. 

“How was lunch with Vince?” You asked as Manny came back home. 

“Nice. I got you those wings and spicy sauce you’ve been craving.” He handed you the brown bag, and you got excited about eating the wings. “I still think it’s a bad idea for you to eat the sauce, amor. You can’t stand spice.”

“Clearly, the baby isn’t aware of that.” 

Manny disappeared in the kitchen and came back with a big glass of milk. “Just in case.”

“Thanks guapo.”

He sat next to you, you kissed him briefly before attacking your food. 

“You didn’t tell him anything, did you?”

“Was hard not to, cause he brought it up. But I want to talk to Gabby first.”

“When are you planning to tell her?” You asked, with your mouth full. 

“Tonight. I told her I’d stop by her place.”

The spices were hitting up. You were sticking out your tongue like a dog, and trying to create some air with your hands. Manny laughed and grabbed the milk for you. “Told you.” You started to drink some milk and your boyfriend got closer, leaning down to be right next to your stomach. “You can’t do this to your mama, baby. But clearly, you’re a Latino.” 

“He or she is a Perez.” You said between sips.

“Maybe mama should be a Perez too.” He said with a huge grin on his face. 

[dasha-aibo]

Same Chris chan anon, I’m back. I saw your reply, and yeah, I agree on some parts. Good people can turn bad.

What I meant was that if you’re a person with strong values, you would’ve never done that stuff. It was plain sexism. A person with strong values wouldn’t do that because their actions dictate what kind of person they are.

And while I understand that you don’t SUPPORT chris chan, you can’t be like “well! Actually, women, stfu about his sexism!!! He did it because he was bullied online!!! And shut up about how he sexually harassed his female friends beforehand!!!”

Like. Think critically. This was an actual crime. With actual victims. And now he’s out of jail??? Male privilege at its finest. He should’ve NEVER gotten out of jail.

Also, rape is like, in my opinion, the only crime that can NEVER be excused. Because nobody forced you to do it??? Nobody can use it as self defense. Nobody recovers from it like a wound. It’s not simple. It’s a complex hate crime against women.

On another note, I don’t like bullying. I’ve been a bullying victim for many years. And even worse, IN REAL LIFE. But I never would’ve done that. Because plainly, I’m not sexist.

Chris Chan was porn sick. That’s it. He harassed women, did something unforgivable to his mother, and became “trans” to intimidate lesbians into dating him. That’s a straight white man if I’ve ever seen it. The internet is cruel, but it doesn’t turn men into rapists. That’s their own doing. We need to hold men accountable for what they do. We can’t coddle them or they’ll just keep doing shit. It’s never justified!!! Never!! Even the nastiest woman doesn’t deserve it because it’s a hate crime against women as a whole!

Have empathy towards the victims. We never know what they went through, and their suffering was much worse than what a brain rotted straight white man went through. Because let’s bffr, if a man I knew told me he’s a woman because he wants to bang a lesbian, draws porn of me, and then rapes his mom AND PEOPLE ONLINE DEMAND HES CALLED A WOMAN AND THAT HE DESERVES PITY??? That would be my breaking point.

He’s a whole ass villain 😭😭 why can’t y’all see that

I don't believe in perfect villains or perfect victims.

We don't need to villianize Chris to have empathy for Barbara. We don't need to gloss over Barbara being a horrible person to feel horrible for what happened to her.

It's not a black-and-white world, no matter how much Ayn Rand wanted it to be.

Chris was severely abused and neglected by his parents. Barbara specifically fostered unhealthy attachment, which absolutely did not help in this situation.

I don't think we need to state over and over again that FUCKING YOUR DEMENTIA-RIDDEN MOTHER IS WRONG. I think that's pretty obvious by itself.

But just taking a step back and looking at the whole situation in context is important.

And it's important to realize that the collective internet didn't just "bully" Chris. They manipulated and gaslighted this person for over a decade. They derailed Chris's life and any middling chance they had at becoming a normal person. They egged on their every worst instinct and broke this person's brain and will. That goes beyond regular bullying.

I think, overall, it's the internet looking at a monster we created and then refusing to accept that harassing, bullying, gaslighting and obsessively documenting a living, breathing human being for over a decade because they're "cringe" is a bad thing. So Chris has to have been a monster from the start.

Chris is out of jail, because the judges don't know WTF to do with them. You can't hold a person in jail with no trial for more than a year, rape is really hard to prove with dementia patients, who might not even remember it, incest penalties are their own can of legal worms and trying a person as severely autistic as Chris is borderline-impossible.

The best outcome for everyone would be to put Chris in an assisted living facility. But I doubt that's gonna happen.

Also, I refuse to comment on Chris's trans status. It's between them and their psychologist. I simply don't care, because it changes very little.

Yeah, I do think Chris deserves pity. Condemnation AND pity. We shouldn't just forgive their horrible actions. But we should at least have the humility to realize that we would be capable of some monstrous shit if we were ever treated like that.

YOU don't think you would've done something horrible in that situation, but you HAVE NOT been in the same situation. And thank your lucky stars for that.

[lablakelystress]

Vent no. 27 (draft/me rambling)

Idk what’s wrong with me… I feel so bad and tired and unmotivated. Idk why. I was going to talk about the argument that I got into my parents lately, but really the only thing that came out of it was now I for sure have to have a snack everyday. Booo, anyways I have a therapy appointment today and it’s from the same lame recovery clinic that I used to have to go to. Definitely not looking forward to it but my parents already set it up so there’s not much I can do. If I would’ve know that it would be the same place, I wouldn’t have agreed to have therapy again. It’s literally going to be pointless because I know that they will just try to sway me into recovery like every single other person that I talked to at that clinic. There was only ever one time that I actually talked with a therapist there who didn’t just try to force me to recover. She was definitely pro recovery though but she actually wanted to get to understand me more. But I’m getting sidetracked. The other update is just that I have really struggled with trying to lose w31ght as a whole. I have barely moved at all today due to having little energy for some reason even though I at3 like a hog this morning. Plus, I have been looking really bad lately. I considered it “ok” a while back, but it’s not good enough. Typical 3d mindset but it’s true. I have been on YouTube and just getting spo from random YouTubers and I realized that my bmi is not low enough. It’s at 17 right now which looks different on different people and honestly 17 is probably good for most people, but I have the absolute worst body type so I just naturally am going to look bigger than I really am. I’m hoping 16 is ideal for me since I might have been in high 80s in lbs a few weeks ago before this whole new d13t started. I actually really kinda liked how I looked at that w31ght and really want to get there again but I doubt it’ll happen anytime soon. My parents have said that they want me at at least 100 and are not changing there minds at all. I am not either, and I’ll continue to try my best not to get over or even close to that number. It’s just very very difficult because they want to see me do everything, and if I refuse to 34t, they lock me out of my room and refuse to drive me to my school. Pretty messed up since they were like “you absolutely have to go college” but whatever. Also yes I don’t drive yet pls don’t judge. Besides all of that and feeling discontent, Halloween was alright, surprising considering the fight I had with my parents was only two days before then. I had to 34t all day though and I somehow chose to down a slice of pizza when I could’ve had something else… shame.

Edit: ok it’s after the appointment and yeah it was pretty much a big waste of time. They wanted to send me up to residential treatment and I was not ok with that. So now we’re back at square one. Cool….

I rly h8 me ….

[061801]

joel dying has changed my life and so far it hasn’t been in good ways. It’s made me a little more gentle and has started to make me think twice about saying things like I hope someone dies because I see the impact it makes on friends and family and I wouldn’t wish that on anybody, not even my biggest enemy. As if everything didn’t already remind me of you, it sure does now. Everything. Literally everything. Don’t get me started on being in the east end. The amount of times we went downtown. Hell the dinner my boyfriend and I when to last night reminded me of you because we sat in the exact booth I sat with you at last. Every time I see a Cadillac, a song about drinking whiskey, certain rap songs that you showed me, even just the colour red will always make me think of you. The brand Tommy Hilfiger because at one point you literally refused to wear anything if it wasn’t Tommy. When I’m in the east end I see little Caesar’s where we started talking right next to our high school, the park where we would chill, the villages where your dad lives and where Michael lived and we would go hangout. We also walked your dog diamond together. We smoked a bucket with Lucas and Michael too right before your mom picked us up. A&W when your mom owned it and you got your first job. Whenever I was hungry we would go there and get food. Going down central road I remember you working at central stamping and my apartment was down the road so you were able to sleep in longer staying at my house. In the west end I think of being at your moms and you teaching me how to skateboard (I didn’t ever actually learn lol), we got ice cream at buskers, I had dinner at your moms house and we walked over to fireworks, kirils house, for some reason we hung out on the train tracks before I got to see my mom for the first time in 2 or 3 years and we smoked the absolute worst rolled joints ever lol.

I’m really sad you’re gone :( I’m really sad that we weren’t on good terms when you passed. Sometimes I think it may be for the best though because I could’ve been the one to find you like that, I could’ve been included, and if we were talking at the time and this happened I don’t think I would’ve been able to live with myself. So I am at least grateful there was a bit of a disconnect between us because the pain I feel already is unbearable. It’s also really hard sometimes because I’ll get bad dreams of us fighting, or unfortunately I’ll remember some things he’s done or said during fights and I feel really upset. I wish we had had a conversation after our last fight. Even though I’m totally in the right for how I felt that night.

The condition my mental health was in when you came into my life was destroyed and I feel like I loved you even more than a healthy person should because I was basically trying to replace my parents and siblings with you. I had nothing, and you and your mom showed me fun things like going out to your trailer which reminds me, leamington and camp grounds in general now remind me of you too because I have never went camping with anybody else. I’ve had a very black and white life with nothing much to it and him and his family gave me some of the first feelings of true happiness I’ve ever felt in my life. I’ve never been able to let go of it. So as toxic as it was to be with him, I get extremely defensive when people ask me why I care so much? It’s insulting. It feels like it at least. Normally I’m able to convince myself in a few months or even a year from now I’ll be out of this situation. But this I will simply never get over. We dated for like 8 months and i never got over it, that was 8 years ago. I’m willing to admit I have some mental issues so that plays into why I was so determined to try and make it work but towards the end I had disconnected from him the most I ever had before because I was just over putting in 1000% for someone who would just go betray me shortly after. To say I was over him tho? lol as if. A week or 2 prior there was a Joel on our reservations at work and I had to find out if it was you because I got nervous. It wasn’t and even tho I didn’t wanna see you on a date with someone else I did kind of want to look at you while you sat there. Point being as much of a roller coaster it was being with him, I could never get enough of it.

[partyp]

I was thinking random thoughts…

We often talk about how young royals give the audience the liberty to have their own interpretations of things. Which is wonderful and very true. To me, for example, the cross necklace and its symbolism, can also speak to many people in one specific way. I like to think that even if Wilhelm wouldn’t have been a prince, and if he would’ve had the same social status as Simon, but raised in a conservative and very religious family, things would’ve been quite the same. (Rojda also slightly mention it in the permanent rain press interview that “those families aren’t that different”.)

Maybe people have a hard time to connect with royalty (ofc who could ever?) but if you come from a modest family where a conservative education was the norm you definitively can relate to Wilhelm more, even if he’s a prince. The prohibitions, indoctrinations, the taboos, the alienation, and the lack of freedom isn’t something to overlook that easily. Especially when it comes to teenage hood. They are in fact children…

I believe that a regular queer teen who’s coming from a conversative, or religious family can see themselves in him; the back and forward, the “I want this, but I’m scared of the consequences” while trying to figure themselves out in that short period of time, isn’t that unusual. So talking about Wilhelm’s behavior as if he’s the worst human in the world because he’s a bit lost, torn and need time to even understand what’s happening to him, is not only unfair to him but also to all of those teens who can relate to that complicated state of mind of: “I know I’m not allow to, but I want it so bad”.

The overlook and the gaslight only make them feel even more shameful, failures and not deserving to want to feel or even imagine to love because they’re not “free” yet. As if it isn’t life experiences that makes one grow. Hurt and being hurt is part of life. Even with best intentions and kind words one can unfortunately hurt another individual. So it’s maybe time to put all of this in perspective and accept the way life and social interactions function in reality. Same goes to those broken promises that we were sure and deeply wanted to respect, but couldn’t, the deep regrets, the frustration, all those human emotions that will make one a better person one day, but for now, life is about mistake and lessons and its definitively okey that way too.

I get that it could be hard to fully understand or relate to people when we’ve always grew up in “the privilege of freedom and tolerance” how cloud we really? But make it sound like it’s easy to be rebellious when you always have been free to be, is quite insensitive, dismissive and let’s be real kind of ironic. It gives: if it was me, I would’ve done it better. No, your free self might’ve done it in a different way or think that you would’ve done it better (but no proof that you even would’ve succeed), which is absolutely not the same btw.

The condescending pov only shows the lack of comprehension about Wilhelm character, but that’s okay I guess, and not quite new. So maybe if it’s hard to feel empathy for a privilege prince (which is valid I guess), maybe try to think about those teens on those countries where queerness isn’t allowed, watching young royals at home. They all know what is right and what is wrong, how Wilhelm’s constant indecisive behaviour isn’t fair to the one he is in love with, how they also can definitely see themselves break because of their parents and the deep fears of consequences, and yet… the need to try, to feel, to naively hoping that they never will have to justify themselves to the world only for living and loving while being in that specific situation, might make them become the Wilhelm of their own story..

The thing is, even if you grew up in an open family, the queer journey is a journey by itself, unique to each individual and absolutely doesn’t mean that things are less complicated, because it’s not. But I also like to think that one doesn’t need to relate to someone to be able to feel empathy, and no .. definitely not: being out in a supportive environment isn’t still the norm around the world and yes.. definitely yes: it’s a privilege.

Some teens have all their high school years to try to figure themselves out, to gain some sort of psychological freedom, seeing that things can be different of what they’ve always been told at home, and yet don’t finish their journey at the end of it, because it’s never that simple, especially when it’s deeply integrated in you. And here we have Wilhelm (yes failing several times, but keep trying step by step to unlearn what an old, complex, and heavy institution has made of him) still be able to make one deeply angry because he couldn’t done in 3 months something that can take a lifetime to someone else. 3 months .. season 1 gave us a period of 3 months, and here we are talking about how much of a coward, crying baby and selfish bitch is Wilhelm to not being able to shake off 16 years of a peculiar and heavy education: “do better wille!!! get your shit together wille !! No.. please.. YOU do better, I beg.

We know that s2 Wilhelm is here to break is chains and fight back, but let’s face it, this is a luxury that not everyone can afford. But in some way, I like to think that it may also give hope and some sort of satisfaction to those teens that aren’t in that place yet. The things is .. it’s not unusual when someone who was so much restrain in everything in their life that once they flip: it goes on the extreme way.

And I’m absolutely not surprised that Wilhelm journey turns out that way. That being said, I’m not worrying because while the revenge plot can make Wilhelm completely lose himself, the “fighting for his great love” will bring a balance in it. Also, I love to think that he does it also for himself, especially for himself, giving the audience who can relate to him once again: hope and satisfaction. “Maybe for now it can’t be me, but seeing someone doing it brings me comfort” sort of.

And for that you don’t have to be queer, you can only relate with the deep willing to break free of a strict and suffocating education which gives Wilhelm journey even more depth than bringing his crush back or to get revenge on someone. (Even though I do realize that those 2 things are the only ones that keep him “alive” right now)

But I’m also aware that Wilhelm is naked.. whatever he does, say or not say, he’s in a public eye and people allow themselves to have opinions and often harsh ones.

Because people see Wilhelm’s life and life events in the media, they might think they know him or understand what he’s going through, how he feels, or that they can guess his thoughts: but this is an illusion. S2 won’t be about a random rebellious teen phase, but rather become some sort of a reality show where people who are absolutely not concerned by it will give their opinion, projecting and judging harshly something that they could never understand even if they try very hard to intellectualize it.

Personally I’m all here for it: “Wilhelm, your goods and your mistakes will be even more deeply lurk and criticize. Be aware that whatever you decide to do you’ll never fully “win” or being “right”; so.. thinking that way, the best thing for you to do, it’s just go for it, because even if people will have opinions about you, YOU on the other hand have only one god: Lisa Ambjörn”

(lmao I’m so dramatic)

[blossoms-and-possums]

vigilante shit is @battlehamster ’s wywm regulus’ song. here is why:

draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man

okay, this line is obviously about being able to paint sleek, clean eyeliner on, which we know regulus can do, even after a period of an inability practice.

‘Taking in a deep breath, Regulus lets muscle memory do its job with quick, short strokes [of eyeliner], until he’s got a sharp line on the very corner of each eye. And it’s the best feeling he’s experienced in fuck knows how long. He turns to look at Sirius with his middle finger up[.]’ - ch17.

you did some bad things, but i’m the worst of them

sometimes i wonder, which one will be your last lie? they say looks can kill and i might try

these lines are about power, which we know regulus has. he’s a Black, and yaz has established in wywm that the Black family blood is important. it gets people places, it gets people fired, it gets shit done (and they look good while doing it). 

‘looks can kill’ here could have a double meaning, in that regulus always looks good - ‘[regulus is] pretty in absolutely everything he wears.’ - ch17 - and that his wrath is enough to kill someone. he even mentions a willingness to have lily killed for her neglect and awful treatment of james and harry. ‘Murder has never figured among the list of his crimes, even the ones he wasn’t put to trial for. But he’s also well aware of the fact that dismissing of Lily wouldn’t keep him up at night, because just like Sirius used to say, half of him did come from Walburga Black, after all. If James asked him to, Lily wouldn’t make it alive ‘til sunrise.’ - 17

i don’t dress for women, i don’t dress for men

lately i’ve been dressing for revenge

since moving into james’ place for house arrest, regulus wears clothes that make him happy. he doesn’t wear the trousers and shirts he was essentially forced to wear when he was engaged to barty and working for his parents. his freedom in his clothes and stylistic choices are is ‘revenge’, a “fuck you” of sorts to walburga and the control she had over him.

‘He’s allowed to wear something that makes him feel pretty. Especially if that something happens to be something that would’ve made Mother throw a fit if she saw him in it. And it’s not that oversized t-shirts and cool socks don’t make him feel pretty, mind you. He’s pretty in absolutely everything he wears. But he can’t deny there are certain things that bring him some extra happiness when he puts them on, like overalls.’ - ch17

i don’t start shit, but i can tell you house it ends

so, obviously, regulus didn’t initiate the corruption of the Black Empire. once his parents, lucius, and other employees/members of the family land themselves in prison, and regulus is able to get out via sirius, regulus is able to direct where the future of the Black Empire is headed. he does so by influencing amos into doing his bidding, with the promise of power.

‘“And I will, of course, occupy her place. So, when this shitshow ends, I am going to need a new COO. Someone dedicated and intelligent, but above all, someone loyal. That someone will be you if, and only if, you keep me as far away as you possibly can from Black Industries until I can walk free.”

Regulus slides the stack of papers back to him, and extends his hand.

“Do we have a deal, Amos?”

A bit wide-eyed, Amos is quick to nod, taking his hand.

Regulus shakes it firmly, with a grin crossing his lips.’ - ch11

don’t get sad, get even

regulus has demonstrated a vengeful streak, which i elaborate on a bit more in the ‘vigilante shit’ section, but is shown in this quote: ‘“Of course I do,” he snaps. “I can make her disappear from the face of the Earth and never inconvenience you or Harry ever again, if that’s what you want.”’ - ch17. regulus is willing to have lily killed for her mistreatment of the boys he loves; that is, james and harry. to regulus, this is ‘get[ting] even’. 

so on the weekends, i don’t dress for friends

lately i’ve been dressing for revenge

she needed cold hard proof, so i gave her some

she had the envelope, where you think she got it from?

now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

after all the miserable years regulus endured away from james, whilst with barty or in prison, he gets to be reunited with his lover, he gets a kid, gets to move into james’ house, and his finally reaching a happy ending. ‘“Not you, Dada!” Harry grunts. “I was talking to Papa!”’ - ch30/31

‘“I can make you the happiest man alive.”

Regulus stays quiet for a long time, enough to make James wonder if he stepped out of line, but then his lip curves tenderly at the corner and the night becomes brighter. “You already do, darling.”’ - ch32

‘“I love you more,” he whispers close to Regulus’ ear, but Regulus shakes his head.

“I regret to inform you that’s impossible,” he tells James. “I love you more.”’ - ch32

picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

and she looks so pretty drivin’ in your Benz

regulus was gifted a mercedes-benz on his birthday. ‘“Someone sent you the keys to a bloody Benz.”’ - ch17 

also, james got a new car after getting into an accident. and im sure james (im making james the ‘she’ here, hope that’s ok with you all) definitely looks pretty when he drives :) ‘“I should have the new car by then so I’m going to drive down to the office for that, you won’t have to see Bobby again.”’ - ch24

lately she’s been dressing for revenge

well, he was doing lines

and crossin’ all of mine

someone told his white collar crimes to the fbi

this line is so self-explanatory, i feel like this headline will more than suffice. ‘‘REGULUS BLACK SENTENCED TO SERVE ONE YEAR AND EIGHT MONTHS BEHIND BARS IN AZKABAN FOR WHITE COLLAR CRIMES.’ - ch1.

and i don’t dress for villains or for innocents

once more, just elaborating on how, with his newfound freedom (ironic, given the most freedom regulus has is during house arrest for his crimes, but i digress) regulus dresses only for himself. ‘Oh, nothing, besides the fact that he spent years forcing himself to put on suits and ties and leather shoes and fucking belts every time he had to dress up like a proper businessman, even when he was in uni, and then the time he spent sitting behind a desk, eating grilled salmon for lunch and resisting the horribly strong urge to tell his secretary to cancel all his meetings because he was going to jump off the balcony. To be fair, putting on some jeans will never, ever amount to that sort of torture, but still.‘ - ch11.

i’m on my vigilante shit again

i think it’s safe to say regulus would consider himself a vigilante. by definition, a vigilante is someone who undertakes law enforcement without legal authority, typically because the legal agencies are thought to be inadequate. this definitely rings true with what we have seen with regulus. most obviously is with the lily situation, and having her deported from india back to england, and stripping her of her ability to work where she had been. notably, regulus does his vigilantism behind james’ back. repeatedly. 

(1.) ‘“Hold on, is this about you getting Lily deported back to England?” James wonders. Regulus doesn't think he's ever been robbed of his words as quickly as in that moment. “What?” he wheezes, shoulders falling on his sides. “How the fuck did you know about that?”[...]

“I know you, Black, whether you like it or not. And that night you asked me if I had any news on her, you got that look in your eye... The look that always, always means trouble,” James tells him. “Every time you got that look I used to fear for some poor soul's safety, (2.) like that time some Hufflepuff called me some names and you got his head and eyebrows shaved off right before the Yule Ball.”’ - ch17.

james goes on to say he never knew how regulus did ‘that’ - shaving the hufflepuff’s eyebrows off before the yule ball - and regulus then tells him. as previously mentioned, regulus also intends to reform the Black Empire with amos diggory’s assistance, which could be yet another example of his vigilantism.

ok. that’s all i got rn.

[uwusenpaiuwu]

Baji A.K.A. The Worst (Best) Matchmaker Ever

Summary: Baji dares you to call Mikey a ‘piss boy.’ You’re an idiot, so of course you say you’ll do it. Things don’t go as planned...or do they?

Pairing: Sano Manjirou | Mikey x Male Reader

Warning(s): mentions of omorashi (pissing), but there’s no actual pissing involved

You’re gonna die. Oh, dear God, our holy Lord and savior, you’re gonna fucking die.

Baji may be an idiot, but you’re an even bigger idiot for letting him convince you to call Mikey a piss boy.

It’s a pretty damn good trade-off, you foolishly reasoned when you accepted his offer: $10 and a spin on his motorcycle, which is basically hitting the jackpot for a broke, motorcycle-less middle schooler like yourself.

Now, what you failed to take into consideration, is that you’d literally be risking your life. Had you taken a step back and used your brain for a second or two, you would’ve realized that calling Mikey, of all people, a ‘piss boy’ isn’t worth the measly $10 Baji is currently waving in the air from across the room.

You open your mouth to chicken out. Baji pulls out another $10.

“You wanna waste your allowance? Fuckin’ fine,” you grumble under your breath, making damn well sure your icy glare is received and, yeah, the irritating smirk that widens across Baji’s face when you continue on your path to your demise means your message is read, crystal clear. He just doesn’t give a shit.

Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders and practically march towards where Mikey is casually munching on fresh taiyaki, legs crisscrossed as he sits atop an old crate.

Oh, man. What would’ve been worse: interrupting one of Mikey’s naps or interrupting him mid-snack?

(Un)Luckily, you get to experience one of them today!

When your footsteps lead you to where you don’t want to be, you stop to stand directly in front of your target, who doesn’t immediately look up in your presence. Simply keeps munch, munch, munching.

It gives you a chance to hesitate, a chance to rethink your reckless decision, a chance to back out and save yourself from a one-sided ass beating.

Alas, the chance to make that split-second decision vanishes when deep, dark eyes flicker up to meet yours, the owner’s expression reading that he’s not exactly bothered to see you there, rather, simply curious to know what you want.

It’s the perfect moment to get this bet over and done with, so, along with your prayers, you just go outright and say it.

“‘Sup, Piss Boy.”

Mikey stops chewing, and you already feel your heart about to burst out of your chest.

The room comes to a dead silence, making it all the more nerve-wracking when, following a dreadful minute of absolutely nothing, Toman’s leader speaks.

“What.”

It’s the only word he says, voice low, emotionless, and instead of it being a question, it’s a demand, a challenge even, to dare you to reaffirm what couldn’t have possibly come out of your mouth.

You remind yourself to breathe, while mentally preparing yourself to get decked in the face, ‘cause it’s way too late to backpedal now. One of your feet is already in the grave; it wouldn’t hurt to speed things up and launch your entire body in there.

“Nothing. I just- I wanted to know how my, uh...my little piss boy is...doing?”

Well, you lived a good life.

Mikey stares at you, unblinking.

One second passes. Two.

Then-

“Are you into that?”

“I- Huh?”

“Baji said you’re into some weird stuff, but that’s pretty fucking dirty, (Y/n). Even dirtier than Ken-chin’s tastes.”

(”Don’t fucking drag me into this shit.”)

Seeing the horrified confusion on your face, Mikey’s head tilts ever so slightly to the side.

“You want me to take a leak on you, right?” he asks, and that’s when your soul says its farewell, leaving behind a red-faced corpse on the verge of combusting. Bringing a hand to his chin, he adds, “Or, did you want to piss on me?”

You thought getting beat up by Mikey would be bad?

No, no, no.

You’d gladly take that over this humiliation.

“Hey, Baji! What did the couple in your porn mag do? Did they take turns or what?”

And Baji, the piece of shit, can’t hold it in anymore and breaks out in the most obnoxious laughter, the kind that’s loud, unrestrained, and has him doubling over, gasping for air.

“Oh, fuck, this is gold!” He’s wheezing at this point, triggering a few of the others to start laughing as well, including Mitsuya, who, to his credit, at least tries to stifle his laughter. “Ask (Y/n) what he prefers! Ask!”

At the other boy’s persistence, Mikey raises an eyebrow at you, giving you his full attention as though genuinely curious to know what your pissing preferences are. It causes the flush coloring your face to turn 10 shades darker and 10 degrees hotter.

You don’t know what’s worse: the fact that your friends now think you have a piss kink, or the fact that Mikey is open to exploring said kink with you.

“So, what’ll it be?”

“I...” What do you even say in this situation?

“Do you want me to pee on you?” Mikey asks again in a much softer voice, hoping it’ll reassure you into giving him a direct answer. He doesn’t want to scare you, no. Knowing how nervous you get around him, he’s been doing his best to show only the good sides of himself to you.

That must be why he takes your hand in his, giving it a little squeeze to encourage you to speak up. What he doesn’t know, is that as opposed to being comforted by the kind action, it makes you feel mortified, especially at the insinuation of you wanting him to release his bodily fluids on you.

So mortified, actually, that the first thing that comes out of your mouth is an unintentionally shy, “Please, don’t pee on me...”

You realize your mistake the second those words are said.

Ahh! No! That’s not what you were supposed to say!

Why didn’t you say you don’t want anything to do with piss in general?!

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Your head is spinning, thoughts going haywire after misspeaking , but what really sends you over the edge is the, admittedly, cute little smile you catch on Mikey’s face. Now, not only is your head in disarray, so is your heart.

“Alright. Since it’s you, I’ll let you do it.”

Nope. That’s it for you. Time to clock out of consciousness.

Thump!

“Oh. He passed out.”

Abrupt as it is, your passing out is of no concern whatsoever to Mikey. Nah, he finds it endearing as hell and crouches down to admire your ‘sleeping’ face.

“He must’ve been super happy,” he fondly muses, completely ignoring Draken’s advice to make sure you’re still breathing in favor of stroking your head and pinching your cheeks. 

(”He might die, dumbass. I’m tellin’ ya.”

“He won’t. (Y/n)’s strong.”)

On the other side of the room, Baji has zero fuel left in him to bark out another laugh at Mikey and his gullibility when it comes to wooing the person he fancies, though he does have the energy to wipe away the tears at the corners of his eyes.

“Best $20 I’ve ever spent,” he blissfully remarks to Chifuyu.

“Baji-san, this isn’t how you play matchmaker.”

“Dude, this is exactly how you play matchmaker.”

To prove his point, the long-haired teen points back to where Mikey is sitting beside you on the ground, carrying out a normal conversation with Draken, like there isn’t an unconscious person right beside them.

“Ken-chin, where should I take (Y/n) for our first date?”

“Huh? Date? I thought he was just gonna piss on you?”

“That means he likes me, Ken-chin,” Mikey explains, sounding, for all it’s worth, similar to a parent teaching their child a new life lesson. “And if the person I like likes me enough to want to piss on me, then, obviously, I should take him on a date.”

It makes no fucking sense, but if Mikey wants to believe that your love language is spilling less than desirable bodily fluids on each other, then so be it.

Because for him, anything goes as long as it’s you.

Not only are you $20 richer, you also scored yourself a date with someone that would let you take a piss on them and vice versa.

Aren’t you a lucky guy?

[lokiskitten]

hey emma , love your page ! Could you please write one where the reader hurts themselves and tom is really worried and cares for them afterwards , leading to smut ?

Hello, I haven’t written anything in a wild but this was just the motivation I needed to get back to work!❤️ I sincerely hope you’ll enjoy it.

Tom Hiddleston | gentle touches

Tom Hiddleston x fem! reader

plot : after accidentally walking onto you self harming, Tom offers his help and devotion before figuring out the best way to distract your troubled mind from all of those worries.

warnings : mention of razor blades, mention of self harm, description of self harm, mention of healed scars and fresh cuts, smut, oral sex ( fem! receiving ), fingering.

Another shitty day spent at work easily led you to catch up onto your former bad habits. Even after remaining clean for months, you couldn’t help but immediately think about razor blades as a solution face to your problems. Entering the bathroom, the door shut close behind your shaky silhouette even though you knew that your boyfriend Tom was still at work. It was simply a reflex you’ve gained over the years of practicing those self injuring mannerisms. Hiding.

It didn’t take long for you to lay your delicate yet lethal fingers onto the proper instrument, the razor blade glistening underneath the light of the bathroom. Your other digits pulled your left sleeve up, shaky hand pressing the razor blade against your delicate skin. The flesh drew blood pretty easily, bringing satisfaction to your troubled mind which had been dreaming of this moment for hours now. Soon enough, multiple scratches started to align with one another, blending in with the healed scars which already adorned your left forearm. Unfortunately, your little self harming session was soon put to an end by the unexpected presence of your boyfriend whom had gotten home earlier today.

The door of the bathroom opened, a smile on his face as his blue eyes first glanced up at your face. Tom’s lips parted, the man being ready to speak up and ask you how your day went until his orbs finally caught glimpse of the bad activity you were tiredly leading. His smile faded away, eyes filling with sadness which made you feel bad to force him through such a terrible sight. “What have you done?..” the british man questioned as if it wasn’t obvious enough; which unfortunately managed to make you feel even worst about yourself. Though there was no form of judgment in his voice but the desperate will to understand why.

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t think you would be coming home that early.” You explained shakily, your first reflex being to pull your sleeve back down before putting the razor blade away. Though, Tom took the initiative to walk into the bathroom and gently take ahold of your left wrist, lifting the piece of clothing up again and taking a closer look at your bleeding scratches. A tired sigh escaped his lips, his free hand reaching out for a clean piece of coton which he then passed onto your fresh cuts. His eyes were stern and he spoke no words- the ultimate combo which always managed to make you feel nervous. Though, Tom’s gentle gestures succeeded in making you feel slightly better.

The man knew about your former addiction and issues, and was mostly sad as he felt as if he had failed his main duty which was to keep you safe. Tom wasn’t mad at you; he simply felt mad at himself for not arriving here about ten minutes earlier than he did.

Keeping your eyes on him, you watched as he cleaned and took care of your cuts like any parent would’ve done with their child’s injury. It was a loving move meant to erase a painful action. “Here. All done.” Tom notified before allowing you to pull your now clean arm away, his body leaning over the sink as he started to wash his hands with the help of water and soap. Pulling your sleeve down, you allowed your tired body to lean against the closest wall whilst your hands shakily rubbed onto your cold upper arms in a calming and soothing manner. Your mind and body were visibly craving for physical attention, yet you simply felt too shy to ask nor even admit it through this painful moment which was to be caught by your boyfriend through such a shameful act that was self harm.

“Are you mad at me?..” you ended up asking him, Tom waiting until he was done washing his hands and drying them before he turned towards you. His hand placed onto his hip, sigh escaping his lips whilst his free digits anxiously rubbed at his chin. The lack of answer made you look away, and that mostly out of shame and embarrassment. But thankfully, your boyfriend was soon to answer your question. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just.. worried. Worried that one day...” the grown man didn’t finish his sentence, and this detail was enough to officially put you down. Your face dropped towards the floor, hands nervously fidgeting with one another as you were forced through this unbearable silence.

Noticing your struggles, Tom took the initiative to step before your motionless body as his hand moved up to your chin, delicately pushing your head back up so that your moist eyes would lock with his. You couldn’t help but allow a tear to escape your eye at the sight of your concerned boyfriend’s features, feeling ashamed for forcing him through such a horrid moment of sadness. “I love you. I don’t want to loose you.” He explained, pure sincerity reflecting in the low voice he adorned. His lips then pressed against your forehead, your eyelids closing in order to allow your brain to escape with the help of this loving gesture.

When Tom pulled away, your eyes opened yet again and immediately started to seek eye contact with the man you loved, which was of course returned as soon as possible. His arms wrapped around your fragile body, pulling you in for a hug before progressively starting to lay kisses onto your cheek, jawline, and eventually neck. The sensation of his warm breath against your flesh drove your senses wild, your hand moving up to the back of his head in attempt to grab ahold of his hair and eventually exit your frustration through a few occasional pulls and rubs.

The grown man didn’t take long to acknowledge and understand your physical gestures, lips now moving down your cleavage whilst his hand lifted up your shirt. Lowering his body in order to reach your sensitive spots, Tom’s lips now started to praise your stomach all the way down until the button of your pants. The more the intercourse moved forward, the more Tom seemed to grow more eager face to this unexpected moment. His breath was getting heavier, and his kisses were also growing sloppier.

His large hands now gripped onto the band of your jeans, his natural strength allowing him to pull both of your pants and underwear down in one go. Meanwhile, you took the initiative to sit down beside the sink, legs spreading whilst your boyfriend took care of tearing your lower clothes off your ankles. He then kneeled down between your parted thighs, hands locked around your flesh as his lips praised your knees and inner thighs. A gentle moan escaped your lips as your toes curled face to the sensation of his breath spraying against your sensitive core. Smirking, the british gentleman allowed his nose to collide with your throbbing clit whilst his warm lips took care of properly pleasing your entrance.

His lips eventually moved up to your clit, tongue popping out of his mouth before the warm and moist muscle collided with your hardening bud. You couldn’t help but bite down onto your bottom lip as you watched your boyfriend work, admiring the way his hands, which held your thighs tightly, were covered in beautiful pulsating veins which reflected his physical maturity. It didn’t take long until your body started to squirm gracefully, back arching out of pleasure whilst Tom continued to eat you out. It felt like pure heaven. Though, the sudden and unexpected sensation of Tom’s entire tongue giving your wet lips sloppy licks pushed you above your limits.

Moaning, your hands moved up to his hair, lovingly messing it up as you took a firm hold of it. “Your taste.. it’s exquisite.” Tom spoke between a few focused licks before starting to gently suckle onto your throbbing clit. Your stomach bulged and vacuumed as you breathed heavier than you ever had before, offering your boyfriend the visual confirmation that he was doing a good job. His lips suddenly pulled away from your core, allowing his fingers to take over in the battle face to your resisting clit. The tip of his index and middle digit started to rub circles against your hard bud, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.

Tom seemingly succeeded in finding your weak spot, giving in just the right amount of efforts that you needed in order to finally reach your peak. Whimpering out of pleasure, your body started to squirm uncontrollably as Tom’s hand made sure to keep your thigh still in order to offer you at least a tad of stabilisation. Your excited hands which still held his hair unintentionally pulled his face against your genitals- earning an amused groan from the man who received the honorable privilege to feel your entrance spasms against his lips. Once the wave of pleasure had finally washed your orgasm away, you were able to let go of Tom and set him free.

Licking his lips as he pulled away from your body, the both of you were now two to catch your breath, panting whilst lustfully looking at one another. This orgasm was just what you needed in order to recover from this painful day at work.

I hope you guys liked this! I feel like it’s kinda shitty but I wrote it whilst being absolutely exhausted. Feel free to leave a request. ❤️

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 4 - Making Believe [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: A lot can happen in a coffee shop. 

Series Masterlist

Considering all the missions your superiors had sent you, this wasn’t the first one to make you end up with a gunshot wound, but it was the first one that you were assigned to seduce the target and ended up with a gunshot wound as a first impression.

Now that you had met Bucky, the next step would be easier. You just hoped he wouldn’t suspect something was up like General kept warning you about, so you had to make sure to memorize every single detail of your cover story.

Instead of being a trained assassin, you were now working in a milkshake shop.

Instead of having lived there your whole life, you were now clueless about the city since you had recently moved there.

Instead of liking horror movies, you now loved rom-coms.

New identity, new apartment, new car, new everything. It was as if the real you had never existed, but none of that was your biggest issue right now.

It was your new uniform for the milkshake shop.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered to yourself, looking in the mirror before fixing your skirt. Even after a week, you still weren’t used to wearing it, the uniform was some sort of a retro diner waitress costume with red and white stripes, cinched waist and a white apron over the short skirt. “I’m going to kill whoever picked this after I’m done with the mission.”

“Y/N?” Chloe called out from the living room, “Come on, we need to go over everything for today.”

You ran a hand over your face and walked to the living room to find your two best friends sprawling on the couch. Keith let out a laugh as soon as he saw you in that outfit, but managed to hide it by pressing his fist on his lips while Chloe kicked at his boot.

“I didn’t say anything!” He held up his hands, “Will you break my phone again if I take a picture?”

“Yeah,” you pointed at him, “I will, so don’t even.”

“We need to go over the plan,” Chloe said, “Today is the day you accidentally run into Barnes, he’ll be at that coffee shop.”

“How do you know where he will be?”

Chloe scoffed, “Hello? I’m a genius hacker?”

Keith sat up straighter, turning the pages of your file.

“Okay so,” he said, “You guys will probably make some small talk, let’s have some practice. Pretend I’m Bucky, how will you talk about yourself?”

“We don’t need to practice it, it’s not my first rodeo,” you reminded him “I got this.”

“Y/N, no offense but he isn’t some clueless civilian okay? The guy was going after targets before you or your parents were born for that matter. The tiniest mistake could tip him off.”

“He has a point.”

“Fine,” you sighed, fixing your nametag, “Let’s practice then.”

Keith took a deep breath and cleared his throat, “Look at that, we ran into each other again.”

You frowned at his deep voice, “Bucky doesn’t sound like one of those robots in the Terminator, Keith.”

“I’m in the zone, just go with it,” he said as offered you his hand, and you shook it.

“Yeah, hi again.”

“I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Oh that’s normal, I just moved here. A month ago.”

“You just moved here?” he repeated “Really? Did you get used to the city yet?”

“A little.”

“I bet your family misses you.”

“Not really, I grew up with my grandmother. She passed away last year.”

“Any siblings?”

“No.”

Keith raised his brows, “Can you be less specific?”

“Keith—“

“You’re not acting like a civilian right now, you’re acting like a spy who has been forced to socialize and he will see right through that,” he told you. “You have to give him more details, civilians talk about themselves a lot.”

“It’s true,” Chloe said, “Once I was in this speed dating thing and just- don’t ask. They don’t stop talking about themselves.”

Keith pursed his lips only for a moment, stealing a look at Chloe before turning to you,

“Let’s try again. Any siblings?”

You rolled your eyes, “Unfortunately not. I’m an only child but when I was a kid, I kept begging my parents for a sister. My mom asked me what would happen if I got a brother, apparently I went like “but mommy, you can give him back then!””

“There we go, embarrassing childhood memories,” Keith grinned, “Good idea.”

You checked your wristwatch, “I gotta run,” you said, “You guys can see yourselves out.”

“I was actually hoping I could stay a little more,” Chloe said, “To make this place look a bit more appropriate. I suppose you’ll bring him here at some point?”

You pulled your brows together, looking around. “Yeah, so? There’s a bedroom.”

“Ever the romantic, this one,” Keith said and Chloe shook her head,

“Y/N, he needs to see something personal otherwise he might get suspicious.”

You pursed your lips, deep in thought, “You mean like sex toys?”

“Oh Jesus…”

“Contrary to popular belief, when people say they want to see something personal, they don’t refer to sex toys.” Keith stated helpfully, “That being said, we’re all screwed if you end up falling for a civilian, you have no idea how to act like one.”

“I meant personal as in stuff to make your place look more homely,” Chloe explained, “Things from your cover’s past that show him we didn’t fabricate this whole identity.”

“Even if we did,” Keith mumbled under his breath and she nodded.

“Even if we did. He needs to see something personal when he comes here, like…” she motioned at the walls, “Like your childhood pictures or your art projects from when you were seventeen.”

“I was learning how to use a pencil as a knife when I was seventeen, Chloe.”

“Exactly. Just let me handle it, I’ve been watching so many makeover shows lately.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Knock yourself out,” you said, “I have milkshakes to fill, see you guys later.”

“Go get him tiger!”

“You got this!” Chloe called out as you walked to the door, “Just be confident and your milkshake will bring all the ex-assassins to the yard!”

You let out a small laugh, then closed the door behind you before throwing your shoulders back and going down the stairs.

                                                         ***

Approaching the target as your training taught you had to have certain steps. You couldn’t just implant yourself in their life, you had to wait until they thought it was their choice to include you in their lives. Sometimes it took more time than you had patience for, but in the end it was worth it.

Seeing that Bucky Barnes was no civilian, every single step had to be checked twice.

Well the uniform would help the mission, at least a little.

A distracted target was a good target.

You lowered the binoculars before pushing them into your purse and fixing the apron wrapped around your waist. Bucky was sitting with Sam at the coffee shop and they seemed to be in a deep discussion, not even aware of what was going on around them. You took a deep breath and approached the door before you pushed it, then slowly made your way to the barista.

“Hi, can I get a cappuccino please? Small.” You smiled at her and went to the counter on the right to wait for your order. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sam looking at you with a frown before saying something to Bucky, nodding in your direction. You kept your eyes on the counter, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet before you scratched around the tape of the bandage over the bullet wound absentmindedly.

Come on…. you thought Come on, approach me already, just come here….

“Here you go, miss.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking the cup off the counter before you started pouring sugar into it just to stall, and finally heard someone clear their throat behind you.

Bingo.

You looked over your shoulder and turned around, your jaw dropping.

“Come on,” you let out a giggle, “Is this real?”

Bucky smiled slightly and pursed his lips together as if he wasn’t familiar with the gesture, “Uh…hi.”

“Hi!” you said, your voice way too high pitched for a moment, “Wow. We meet again, my hero.”

His smile widened and he rubbed the back of his neck, “How’s your arm?”

“Healing,” you ran a finger over the tape of the bandage, “I didn’t die, that’s something. But the doctor said that was the worst bullet wound he had ever seen in his life.”

Bucky frowned, “Wait, really?”

“No, I’m just trying to look badass,” you admitted, making him chuckle, “They didn’t even think it needed stitches.”

“Ah,” he said and motioned at your uniform, “So you’re a…?”

You scrunched up your nose in what you hoped to be a cute manner and shot him an abashed look, “I know. I thought the exact same thing when I first saw myself in it.”

“I doubt that,” he mumbled more to himself and you tilted your head, batting your lashes.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, “So the uniform?”

“I work at this milkshake shop just around the corner,” you said, “Apparently retro shops are popular nowadays. It’s supposed to look like this pin up style— can you tell me what’s wrong with the dress so that I can tell the owner what a ridiculous idea it is?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again, looking you up and down, “I don’t- it’s-“ he stammered “You know, it was such a long time ago. I think it looks perfectly fine.”

“Does it?”

“Absolutely.”

You grinned at him, “Well in any case, you should drop by sometime. Milkshakes are better than the uniform, I promise.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “Yeah! I would’ve invited you sooner but by the time I was done at the hospital you had already left, and they also told me you paid for the whole thing and the taxi, so…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved a hand, “It’s nothing.”

You bit down on your lip, “If you don’t mind me asking,” you said softly, “Why did you leave in a hurry? I mean obviously you didn’t have to stay, I’m sure you’re very busy and—“

“No no, it’s nothing like that,” Bucky cut you off, “I just didn’t want you to think you owed me anything, that’s all.”

“Huh,” you clicked your tongue, “I see. I was wondering what the catch was, didn’t have to wait that long. That’s good to know.”

He raised his brows, amused for some reason, “What’s the catch?”

“You’re too much of a gentleman.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not really,” you taunted him “Just unfamiliar.”  

His gaze lingered on you as you took a sip of your coffee, keeping your eyes on him.

“I hope you got home safe though,” he said after a beat and you thought for a moment.

“I did, and now I know to stay away from dark alleys in New York,” you said, “Lesson learned I’d say.”

“You’re not from around here?”

“I- no, I actually moved here just a month ago,” you said, “I grew up in a small town, we didn’t really have robbers or anything. And I managed to get mugged within the first thirty days in a big city. A true New York experience, I feel like I belong here already.”

“Your folks must be losing their minds if you attract trouble that fast in the city.”

“No one is losing their minds, it’s just me,” you said and when you saw his quizzical glances, you felt the need to explain. “I grew up with my grandma and I lost her a year ago, so…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ah it’s okay,” you said, “She wouldn’t want me to live in sadness, she told me that herself. You can’t focus on what ifs, you know? We just decide what to do with the time left for us and that’s it. Past would drive all of us crazy otherwise.”

He looked almost surprised at your take on loss and when you saw the soft light in his eyes, you knew you had just hit jackpot.

“You’re a glass half full kind of person, huh?”

Nope, I’m more of a “use the glass as a weapon” kind of person.

“Yeah,” you said, “There are enough pessimists in the world, and they don’t need me within their ranks. No one really did anything nice by thinking the worst anyways.”

“Oh you were definitely not raised here.”

Your jaw dropped, “You know what Mr. Barnes, I’d take that as an offense but lucky for you, you saved me the other day, so I’ll let that slide.”

“Mm hm,” He looked like he was struggling with himself not to laugh, “Lucky me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, then checked your wristwatch.

“I should probably go, my boss cares a lot about punctuality,” you said, “But is it okay if I gave you my number?”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds as if he couldn’t believe you.

“Wait- really?”

“I mean I was going to wait until you asked me, but apparently you’re too much of a gentleman,” you joked as he hastily grabbed his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. You typed in your number, then saved it.

Y/N (The Milkshake Girl)

Bucky tilted his head, his brows furrowed, “What, you didn’t think I’d recognize your name?”

“Well it’s better to be safe than sorry,” you joked, “Besides you should really come by sometime. We have the best chocolate milkshakes. It’s on the house.”

He smiled, “I will.”

You took a step, then held your breath and turned around as if you had just remembered something.

As if it wasn’t all practiced.

“But not after 4 on Mondays and Wednesdays,” you said, “I volunteer at the soup kitchen then.”

That light in his eyes was almost gentle, as if he was worried he could hurt you just by looking at you, but couldn’t stop himself from doing so.

“I’ll see you not after 4 on Mondays and Wednesdays then,” he said and you giggled, then turned around and walked to the door. Sam was watching you with a small, proud grin on his lips so you waved at him and left the coffee shop, still holding the warm cup tightly in your hand.

As soon as you were sure you were out of their sight, you dropped the smile, exhaled a relaxed breathe and grabbed your phone to touch the contact on the screen.

“I’m sorry, our delivery service is down right now,” the voice said and you scratched around the tape on your arm before telling her the code;

“That’s okay, I can wait until the rain stops.”

There was a click on the other line and soon enough you heard the assistant’s voice.

“Hello?”

“This is Shrike, put me through the General.”

“Of course, a second please,” she said and you tossed the cup into the garbage can, then General’s voice reached you.

“Shrike?”

“Sir, I just called to inform you that I’ve contacted the target for the second time,” you said, “Everything is going according to plan, my report will be on your desk by tonight.”

“He didn’t suspect anything?”

“No sir.”

“Okay,” he said, “Don’t move too fast, alright? We don’t want to spook him.”

“Of course.”

“And Shrike?” he said, “Good job.”

A smile lit up your face, “Thank you sir,” you said and hung up, closing your eyes and leaning back to the wall.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, “You got this, he’s just another target. Let the games begin.”

Chapter 5

[coykoii]

😭😬 ready for u 2 break my heart into a million pieces bae

😬 confessing their feelings

😭 unrequited love

ohhh you menace!!! but also the way i was writing this drabble for @miranduh1 already bc she deserved it after sending me angsty petermj edits and it fits 🤭 two for one ty!!

loving (and losing) you under the sun

Sometimes, it’s easier not knowing.

It’s easier and it’s less painful, and she thinks she would’ve done anything to prevent this.

MJ doesn’t know what’s worse. Knowing that he did love her and he has loved her for as many years as they’ve known each other, or knowing that he’s falling out of it now. Slowly but surely.

*

*

*

“Stop,” MJ says in the middle of a laugh, her eyes watering as she nearly keels over, having to grip her knees for support. But he absolutely lights up at the sight of her laughing at his joke. It wasn’t funny—he isn’t funny. And yet. “Could you please just shut up for once—”

“If I shut up, you’d miss hearing me talk. I just know you would,” Peter replies with an expression sticky with fondness, and she smiles easily at the sight, the sunlight beaming down on them. He’s wonderful, really. One of the best people she knows.

His hair blows in the wind, already ruffled from his mask, the two of them standing on top of his favorite roof. She’s felt honored ever since he told her that she was the only one he’s ever brought up here and wonders now what he’s going to do when she leaves for college.

He’ll still be here, in the city. For Spider-Man, for his responsibilities, for May.

The thought of it brings her back down to earth, her smile fading a little as she crosses her arms, the wind starting to pick up some more. Maybe too much.

“Everyone’s going to be gone soon. Gayle just got married. Ned’s leaving for college,” MJ prompts quietly. “And so am I.”

“It’ll just be me then.” He tilts his head slightly, his smile kind of sad. “That’s okay.”

“You don’t have to stay here.”

“I can’t—I can’t leave the city for just anything,” Peter says, his shoulders drooping. She knows that he’s thinking of Spider-Man, that he will always put the suit first and foremost in his life. She doesn’t want to think about it too hard because it makes him happy, and that’s all she cares about.

“There’s nothing you’d leave it for, is there?” The question is rhetorical, or it should have been because she knows the answer. But he’s always been good at proving her wrong.

When Peter looks at her in that moment, she thinks this is the most open she has ever seen him before. His eyes are full of tenderness, emotion, soft enough that she feels she could be at home if she just kept looking. It scares her.

It terrifies her, actually. Because she knows what this look means. She’s seen it before, exchanged between Gayle and her husband, between her parents. Even between Ned and Betty. But she never could have imagined seeing it with him.

“Em, you have no idea—”

“Wait, please,” she interrupts, the panic evident in her voice, knowing the worst might be coming and she hasn’t had any time to prepare for it. “Please don’t—”

“If I don’t say it now, I never will.” Peter swallows hard, wringing his mask in his hands with so much force that she fears he might break it. His voice is gentle yet firm because the answer must seem so obvious to him. “I would leave for you, MJ. I would go anywhere with you. I just…I can’t really help it.”

“Yes, you can—” He would never put her above being Spider-Man. He could never.

“I can’t,” he stresses. “I can’t because—because I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you, Em. I thought you would notice considering how observant you are, but I’m telling you now…before you leave.”

“You’re lying—you can’t do this, Peter,” MJ says, her voice tremoring in her throat. “Your responsibility isn’t to me, it’s to the city. It deserves you more than I do, and you know this.”

“That’s not true. You’re not a responsibility to me. You’re just…you’re MJ. I love you,” he admits again, and she can see the way his eyes shine with tears and sincerity because he means it, and her heart pangs in her chest. “I love you so much.”

She can’t do this. Not with the earnestness in his eyes, not with the knowledge that he deserves far better than whatever half-assed love she can give him back. He deserves the world, and she can’t give that to him.

“You’re too good for me. I’m so grateful for you and I’m so proud of you—of everything you’ve ever done,” she says, a tear escaping her eye when she blinks. Her vision is blurry which is great because she doesn’t really want to see him clearly right now anyway. “But I can’t love you in the same way.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t change how I feel and if I said I did love you back when I…when it’s different, it would just be worse,” MJ tells him weakly, and he takes a step back as if she slapped him across the face and she feels it too.

But she can’t love him as wholly, as unadulterated as he loves her. She knows it would be ruined if she tried, and then they would be ruined, and that’s how they end for good.

Peter looks at her, his smile fragile as he nods like he understands, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t get it because she can’t even put it into words herself.

She just knows that she has to tell the truth somehow, even if it hurts his feelings.

“I can’t love anyone else,” Peter says, looking down, a tear dripping down the angle of his nose and splashing on the concrete of the roof.

“Yes, you can. You’ll find somebody else, okay? They’ll be beautiful and accomplished and you’ll love them, and you’ll be glad that you didn’t make a mistake by choosing me.” MJ inhales sharply, wondering why it hurts so bad to say it when she knows it’s what’s right. “You’ll be happier, and that’s all I want you to be.”

“Anything else?” he asks, his voice cracking.

“Just that…I know you put Spider-Man before everything, but I don’t want that for you. I don’t want to be your only exception,” she finishes, knowing that if there has to be an exception, it should be himself. “You deserve to live and put yourself first every once in a while.”

She dries her face in the crook of her elbow and wishes that she could travel back ten minutes to when she could look him in the eyes and not see heartbreak.

“Yeah,” is all Peter says thickly before absently shaking his head, pulling his mask back on. He jumps off the roof and swings away, and she doesn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.

*

*

*

It’s worse knowing both ways.

Knowing how he was while he loved her. His smiles were fond and long-lasting, and he made every excuse in the world to touch her, hold her hand, press silly kisses to her temple for no reason. He would come over to her house and cook dinner with her, watch murder documentaries with her even though he hated them. And he would trust her to patch him up, to talk to him, to just be there if he needed her.

And knowing how he is now, in the few weeks before she leaves. Distant, barely matching the effort in that she still is. There are no silly kisses, no touching, no smiles that linger for more than a second. There’s no more patching up, no more trust, no more coming to her when he needs someone.

He’s throwing himself into Spider-Man more than ever before, the opposite of what she wanted for him, and now it just makes her heart ache.

Especially since she doesn’t know where he goes now, but she knows that it’s not home.

[ellana-ravenwood]

Good Night Rituals - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : You have a special little way to tuck your children in, to tell them “Goodnight” and send them off to have sweet dreams, and they absolutely love it. It makes, however, your Bruce a little jealous, at times...

When I was a kid, my mom used to sing to my brother and I a song every night, after our bed time story, and then she’d tell us she loved her, we’d in turn be like “I love you from here to the Moon !” and it’d go for a good half an hour of arguing over who loved the other one most...It inspired this mini-fic. Something very short, again to make you wait for longer more elaborate stuffs. Sorry i’m being slow, a lot of things (good things) is happening and I have very little time. I hope you will like this little thing :) : 

My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_________________________________________________

Dick

Dick is the one that invented this little “night ritual”. 

He told you this was the perfect name for it, because it sounded like you were witches up to no good, and he “loved that for you two”. 

Of course, it was fairly obvious he’d be the instigator of it all, as he was the oldest child. Your first little kiddo. Oh, but you helped too. 

The good ol’ days, during which you had absolutely NO idea how to raise a child. When you and Bruce, frankly, hadn’t been adults for THAT long, considering. 

And yet, and you were sure it was entirely thanks to little Dickie, everything came to you naturally. Everything felt right. Even if sometimes, you were a little clumsy. 

Both you and Bruce tried so hard though. To make Dick feel home. And like you were his parents. You never tried to replace his mom and dad. But in Dick’s own words, you just slowly became his chance at having parents again. 

Becoming Dick’s mom, and Dick’s dad, didn’t mean he forgot the ones he lost. It just meant he loved you as much as he loved them. And though the loss would forever hurt, he did know both John and Mary Grayson would’ve want him to be happy. 

And at Wayne Manor ? With you and Bruce ? He became happy. There was a few rough and dark first days, but things slowly build up. 

You became a family. You were his parents, now. And he knew, that his mom and dad wouldn’t be mad at him if he “moved on”, and allowed himself to love again. 

Bruce often said that he adopted Dick because he didn’t want the boy to become him. And in that simple fact, in that simple way little Dick Grayson understood he still had a chance at being happy, at having a family...He was already extremely different from his “new” dad. 

At least, from when he was at his age. 

Mission accomplished. 

In any case, this parent thing that was thrown your way, became one of the most important thing you’ve ever done in your life. 

And again, although there were some clumsy moments, and not everything was always great (Dick had some mighty fit of rage at times, Bruce could be a jerk, and hell sometimes you needed to get away from them as well because you could be such a dick...Everyone has their moments where they’re not on their best behavior, it’s called life), you were a mom, now. 

And being a mom, in your mind, meant tucking your kid in when it was time for bedtime. 

Only, it was easier said than done. 

Dick was a difficult child to put in bed. He’d always find ways to not sleep, and make you stay longer with him. Eventually, you made a “deal”. 

And that’s how the “night ritual” was born. 

You see, before this little ritual. This “deal” as you called it at first, before Dick found the name. It took you hours, to put him to bed. 

Bruce was often out in the city early (although he always made sure to be here for a good night kiss and a “love you, champ. See you tomorrow, sleep well”) and Alfred would monitor the computer, at those times. 

Later, when Dick grew up, you’d often be behind that monitor. But if a kid had to be put to bed ? You gladly took it upon yourself to do it. 

For you, especially in those early motherhood days, it was important to be there for your child. For him to feel like he wasn’t an afterthought, and that “the butler” (although everyone knew Alfred was more than that) wasn’t here to take him off of your hands. 

So bedtime, was your task. The task you gave yourself. 

And oh boy, with Dick ? It quickly turned into a hassle. 

“I’m thirsty...Wait, I’m afraid to stay alone in the room, piggyback ride to the kitchen ?” 

“I can’t sleep, it’s a full Moon.” 

“Hey, I didn’t clean up my room today ! We can’t leave all my toys laying around like that, can we ?” 

It was always “one last story” or “I have to pee” or “I forgot to brush my teeth !”. 

And at the time, you just didn’t have the heart to scold him and tell him it was enough, that it was time for bed. Oh well, who were you kidding. Even now, you didn’t scold your kids if they took their sweet time to get to bed. 

You just didn’t quite understood the point in getting  mad at them just because they didn’t go to bed right away. Dick eventually fell asleep, and not even that late. And if he was stalling for too long, he would only get mad at himself the next day because he’d be exhausted, and then that night he’d go to bed earlier. 

So no. You didn’t get mad. It sounded ridiculous, to yell at kids for this. However, you were a mom now. And you knew your kid couldn’t just do whatever he wanted, even if he was as sweet as Dick. 

Dick was nice almost all the time. He listened, did his chores, worked in school...So what if you gave him a little freedom sometimes ?

Yes. Sometimes. It was fine sometimes. 

But not all the time, like it had become. And not for bedtime. Seeing your son, in the morning, with big bags under his eyes, made you think of your husband, and oh you didn’t want this little 8 years old to be as tired as your Broosh could be. 

Of course, Dick was in bed WAY BEFORE Bruce came to bed. But for a small child like him, falling asleep at 10 or 11 pm was already too late. 

And so, one day you had enough. And you decided to make a deal with him. There had to be things required for him to go to bed (like a story, for example), but when you said : “it’s time for bed now”, he HAD to listen. The threat was that you’d just kiss him goodnight and leave. 

At first, Dick didn’t believe you. You couldn’t possibly have the heart to not tell him a story, and leave him alone so soon ! But you had to give him a lesson. 

And so, came the first unpleasant act you did as a parent. Because being nice and lenient was one thing, but you still were his mom. Not his friend. And there had to be certain rules, especially for such a young child. 

Rules, that he had to understand, or it was meaningless. Now, of course, you weren’t as harsh as your husband (you’d get mad at him enough, when he trained Dick and was a little too much). But still. You couldn’t let him decide of everything. You really REALLY didn’t want him to become a brat who thought he could just have anything whenever he wanted. 

Dick was a great kid, your worst fear at the time was that he’d turn into a phony who thought of himself as superior just because he was from a famous and rich family, and allowed to do whatever he wanted. 

And so, the “night ritual” began. On a common accord (because Dick was such a good kid, but also because that time you just kissed him, tucked him in and left really left a mark on him and he hated that so much !). 

You realized the reason he couldn’t get to sleep right away was because he was always wayyyy too excited, but also...because he didn’t want you to leave so soon. 

He dreaded the moment you’d leave, and he would be alone in his room. 

So you put in place a system, that would gradually make him sleepy. And...

It worked. 

First, you’d get dessert in bed. Usually fresh milk and a cookie. Something light, just to put him a little bit to sleep (Dick always got sleeping after he ate something, for some reasons). And you’d talk about your day, about how you felt. You’d lay it all out, so that your boy wouldn’t get to bed with any negative feelings. Talking, always helped. 

Then you’d read him a bedtime story. Better yet, you’d invent a bedtime story just for him (this is how your most famous book saga, “Richard and the Space pirates” came to be). If you felt benevolent that night, you’d even tell him two stories. 

One would usually do the trick, however.

Then you’d sing him a few lullabies, to lull him softly to sleep. 

And as he’d fall asleep, you’d whisper : 

“I love you so much.”

And he’d answer, outraged but too weak to really argue. A few last words before falling into a deep slumber : 

“I love you more !”

And bam. He’d be passed out. Your soft voice in his ears, as you told him a story, sang to him, and told him he was loved...It was what he needed. 

He was a rather young child too, who had a busy life. School, training, homework...So of course, with a little coaxing, he’d fall asleep fast. 

But he had to know you were there. Had to know he had those moments with you, and wouldn’t be alone before he fell asleep.

See, you understood that all his stalling before the “night ritual” was put in place, was because he was trying to tire himself out before you left. He was trying to keep you there as long as possible, just so he would fall asleep fast once you were gone. 

“I love you most.” 

You’d tell him, as he was already sleeping sweetly, clinging to his comforter as you slowly caressed his hair, laid a last kiss on his forehead, and left the room. Making sure before, that his little light was on, in case he woke up at night. 

Dick hated the dark. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you more !”

“I love you most.” 

Night ritual. 

Existing because your oldest kiddo, Dick, needed some “guidance” to fall asleep. But most importantly, because he needed to know you’d be there too, until he fell into his dreams. 

You’d indulge him. Meeting him half-way between “doing everything he wants you to do” and “being way too strict”. There were rules, to bedtime. 

A “night ritual”. 

But the rules were lax. Could be bend. And existed only so he would be able to sleep relatively early. 

For years and years, you’d do that little nightly ritual with him. It stopped when he was around 14, even if he still had a kiss goodnight and got tucked in. Things really stopped overall when he left for the Titans, shortly after turning 16, after that awful fight with his father. 

Oh and to be honest, something he’d never tell anyone...Even now, as a grown ass adult, he’d sometimes call you at night just so you could sing him a song, as your voice was still the thing that’d put him peacefully at sleep even to this day. But the real “night ritual” stopped. Your little boy grew up.

Which made you so sad...But then Jason came in. And soothed the pain. 

Jason

Jason ressembled Dick in that he really wanted you to stay for the longest possible. But, unlike Dick who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind and who could be a bit of a brat sometimes, Jason wouldn’t say anything. 

Dick definitely used his little charms and smiles to make you and Bruce crack, and give in...the little bugger even taught his younger siblings everything about how to manipulate you two into saying “yes”, to your greatest dismay...

Oh but, was one more scoop of ice cream really that bad ? After all, your children were nice most of the time, it was fine to be a little lenient sometimes, and though Bruce loved to think of himself as a strict parent, nobody was fooled, you were both pretty cool and lax...Which didn’t mean your children were misbehaving brats, although they had their moments, like everyone. 

Anyway, Dick used to make it clear he was demanding for you to stay longer with him when bedtime was coming. 

But Jason was a little shyer. He spend his entire life until then thinking he was bothering the people around him, that he was a burden, so he really didn’t want his new family to think that of him. 

But you could see it in his eyes. You could. When he wanted for you to tell one more story, or to sing him one more lullaby. And although you were constantly teased by your husband about how easy those kids played you (as if he was one to talk)...you couldn’t resist. 

You were always left rather sad and depressed, if you put one of your kids to bed and they looked visibly upset. So you’d stay longer. Anything for them to go to bed feeling good. 

About life. About themselves. About everything, really. 

A child shouldn’t have his sleep burdened by any worries.

Of course you knew you couldn’t be forever there for them, they’d eventually grow up and you wouldn’t really need to “tuck them in” anymore (at the time, you had  no idea that even well in their twenties, if they came to sleep at the Manor, even as they already moved out, they’d ask you for a good night kiss...The magic of being consistent in your love for them, really). 

You knew that eventually, they’d grow up too much and wouldn’t need you as much. That it’d be harder, too, to cheer your little ones up. Growing up unfortunately meant your worries grew with you too, and were harder and harder to forget. Or to be distracted from. 

You knew one day would come, in which little Jason would not be soothed anymore, by you telling him a bed time story. 

So maybe, you cracked a little too often, especially with him. 

You knew Dick had a good childhood, before you adopted him. But Jason ? He was bruised and abused, and thrown away like a dirty socks too often. Nobody ever wanted him, anywhere he went. 

Which was why, he didn’t dare to ask for a second story when you finished the first one. 

See, Dick would just jump up in his bed, do a backflip and dramatically say : “Pleaaaase fair lady, another story for the poor squire boy !”. Which would make you smile, and tell him one more. 

But Jason ? He didn’t say anything. And held all his feelings of sadness and disappointment inside. 

He wanted, more often than not, a second story so bad. But he didn’t want to bother you. He didn’t want you to realize he was actually a burden, and to throw him away, just like everyone else did. 

Jason always got to have a second story. Of course, any of your kids would if they asked. But Jason never dared to ask. So you’d just give it to him naturally. 

He always started to fall asleep half-way through the second story, which you’d keep on hold to then sing to him. 

Your songs would make him slowly drift to sleep, a genuine smile on his face. 

Oh. Jason. Always such a sweet boy, afraid to bother others, yet as contradictory as it sounded boisterous and full of life. 

Your little Jason. When Dick left for the Titans, you hadn’t realized how much you missed having a little one home. And then. 

Then there was Jason. 

When he died, you thought your “motherhood” died with him. Dick was over eighteen by then, and even if Jason’s death made him come back to the Manor, there was no “night ritual” anymore. You didn’t have the heart for it anyway...

You still had Dick, but losing your young son like that, knowing how he died, made you feel like you would never recover. You were in such a bad shape, that you couldn’t even help Bruce when he also fell into a dark well. When he turned back to being overly violent as Batman, practices he stopped when Dick left and opened his eyes. When Dick questioned him. 

You still had Dick, but it felt like part of what you were as a mother, died with Jason. How could you do a “night ritual” properly now, with the memories of your son’s sweet smile, him telling you this was his favorite part of his day ? With the memories of...

You moved from the East wing to the West wing, after Jason’s death. None of you could walk past his empty room anymore. 

Dick came back. And it was his turn, to help you fall asleep. More than one night, he spend trying to comfort you as you couldn’t stop the tears from running down. He never left you alone. 

Bruce couldn’t handle any of it, and he buried himself under his work as Batman. It would take him some time, before he realized that you had to be there for each others...

When Jason died, it felt like it was the end of everything nice about motherhood. Every night, you fell asleep with your head in your oldest son’s laps, seeing in his eyes the grief and pain of it all.

And you felt guilty. More depressed and sadder. You always hated seeing your children off to bed looking upset...

But it was hard to resist. Everything felt so far away. And Bruce wasn’t there. This was one of the darker moment, in your family life...

Dick felt helpless. He hadn’t been able to save his little brother. Now he couldn’t even help his parents. It felt like the entire family was breaking...

And then. Then Tim came in. 

Tim

Tim’s parents never tucked him in, too busy with their high society lives. 

So when he started to live with you and Bruce, after he lost both of them, he didn’t really expect you to...

“Do you want a bedtime story, maybe ?” 

You asked him on his first night being officially adopted. 

Oh but this was rather long after you started to see him as your own son. Tim already stayed over the Manor many times (without his parents ever even calling to know where he was). And he’d been Robin for a few months, before his parents passed away and he was officially adopted into the Wayne family (A/N : no need to tell me that canonically, Tim got adopted quite a long time after his parents died and he was “just” a ward like Dick was, for a while ;). No need either to tell me he was “older” than the age I give him there, which is around 10/11...Firstly because it varies according to canons, like sometimes he’s young, sometimes he’s fifteen, but also because this is a fanfic and my canon ages for the boys are taken from the canon I prefer XD which are not the ones in which he had a certain “Happy 15th birthday” pizza. Anyway what I mean is, that I’m not entirely accurate here for sure, but eh, it’s a FANfic, let’s allow ourself a little freedom...there’s no official canon on his age or how old he was when adopted anyway, it varies wildly from era to era hehe). 

Both you and Bruce kept your distance from him, at first. In more way than others, he painfully reminded you of the son you lost. And it felt wrong, to replace him so...

Replace him ? 

Slowly, both of you were reminded of that conversation you had with Dick, once. When he was little, and asking if his parents would be mad if he called you and Bruce “mom and dad”. 

That conversation, during which all of you talked about how you didn’t replace John and Mary, you just became another family for him. His new parents. 

Didn’t mean he would ever forget about the ones who were ripped away from him. Just that he...

He allowed himself to love again. 

And you did, too, when you finally accepted Tim in your life. 

That boy had a way, anyway, to crawl inside your heart and settle comfortable there...He was just such a bright one, in more than one way. Sure, he was extremely intelligent, but he also just...Shone. A new sun in your life. 

Not one that would replace any other Sun. Just. A new one. That you were allowed to love, too. 

“Do you want a bedtime story, maybe ?” 

Now, he was officially your son. And this was the first night he’d spend in the Manor being yours. Before, you never dared to tuck him in, by fear of getting too attached just for him to be ripped away from you...And he almost did. 

His father, almost took him away, before his ultimate demise... But that was another story. 

Tonight, was the first night as your son. And he was still so small, just ten little years. The age Jason was too, when the official adoption papers were signed...

You chased away the painful memories, as little Timmy looked at you, surprised. But you could see a hint of interest in his eyes. 

“A bedtime story ?” 

“Yes, if you want to of course. You don’t have to-”

“I’d love a bedtime story !” 

He was in such a hurry to tell you this, that it made you smile. And you could feel it in your bones. That boy never had anyone asking him if he wanted to be told a story, before sleep. 

It was obvious in his excitement, and it was obvious in his hopeful eyes. Eyes that were asking : “...Do I really mean something to you ? Enough that you’d spend time reading to me ?”. 

It broke your heart. Poor little one. Even though he had parents, and came from a rich family, he was never truly cared for. It was obvious in everything he did. 

Often, he’d try to do stuffs on his own, and would be surprised if you, Alfred or Bruce would ask if he needed help... 

Ah. Well tonight. Tonight called for one of your made up stories for sure. A mere random storybook wouldn’t do. No. You had to tailor one for him. Just for him. So he would finally know how special he is. 

“Ok, well then.”  

You settled next to him in his bed, as he sat up, the excitement pouring out of his very being. Alfred chose that time, to drop some milk and cookies, as he informed you he would be down in the Batcave to help Bruce. 

Impeccable timing. As usual. 

You thanked him, and started your story, as Tim looked at you with wide eyes, eating his cookie absentmindedly, quickly realizing you were telling a story about him ! : 

“Once upon a time, there was a little boy. His name was Timothy, and he didn’t know it yet but one day...He’d save the entire Kingdom of Waynalia. How, you might ask ? Well it was simple. You see, young Timothy had a talent to cure people’s heart. And the King and Queen of Waynalia, who were known to be cruel and vile, only were so because they’ve had broken hearts for far too long...” 

Tim fell asleep at the end of the story. And just like his brothers, quickly took to this “night ritual”. After all, he was still just a child. And this entire “milk/cookie/ story/lullabies/kiss goodnight” was great. 

Cassandra

Cassandra was fifteen, when she started to live with you at Wayne Manor. Too old, you thought, for the “night ritual”

Dick himself stopped demanding it around aged fourteen (after a certain Wally West mocked him when he heard of it), and even that was rather old when you thought of it. One of the main reason he slowly detached himself from it (apart from being mocked), was being Robin full time now, and going most nights out, so he didn’t really have the energy anymore for the ritual. It wasn’t needed. Which sort of broke your heart. 

Jason died before he ever got the “chance” to ask you to stop....

But this was not something you wanted to think about. Oh no. 

In any case, Cass was fifteen, and you thought, too old to want some bedtime stories by her mom, or any sort of snuggles. 

That was until...

A nightmare. 

You heard her, it felt even in your sleep. Something woke you, and then she started to scream. Bruce wasn’t home yet, and it was her night off (you forced all of them to have one, at least once a week). 

That night, you had marathoned your favorite TV show with her, and went to bed your separate ways. You did kiss her goodnight, and told her you loved her (you always told them at least once a day, because you learned that in your line of work...you never knew what could happen...Jason’s smiling cheeky face came to your mind, did you tell him often enough that he-no. Not tonight.). 

And then, late, it was pitch black out, you heard her scream. 

Your mother instinct made you run to her. Quickly, you understood she had yet another bad dream about her father coming to get her, and forcing her to be a weapon again. It happened so often... 

You shook her up, and she almost knocked you down as she was slowly regaining consciousness and wondering what the hell was happening and where she was. You know, those few seconds before you’re fully awake, when you’re not even sure you’re even someone anymore ? The time you need to remember oh right, I’m human, and I was in my bed. This is my bedroom. Right. 

To sooth her, you started to slowly sing to her. To hold her while you rocked gently back and forth, and sung. 

She didn’t talk, as you dried her tears. As you reminded that this was all fine, she was home, and David Cain would never hurt her again. 

Cass calmed down, and fell back asleep. You held her most of the night, waiting for Bruce to come back. You just didn’t feel like going back alone in your bed, after such screams

The next night off she had, when it was time to part at the top of the stairs after yet another TV show marathon, when you’d go to your room and her to hers...

She stopped. And held onto your sleeve. 

“Cass, honey, what is it ?”  

There was a few seconds of silence, before she said : 

“Do it again ?” 

And you understood instantly. 

See, the other nights, the ones she didn’t have off, Cass would come home exhausted after a night of vigilanting. But when she had her night off, when she wasn’t “working”...Sleep was hard to come. 

You knew all too well what she felt. Your Broosh was the same, and already poured his feelings to you about it more than once. 

Now, Cassandra wasn’t much of a talker (your husband either, really, but then it was different with you)but you could see it in her eyes. 

“Sing ?” 

She nodded. And so you went to tuck her in. 

You thought she was “too old”. You thought she wouldn’t like it. You thought, as she was slowly discovering her own independence after being treated as a weapon and not choosing anything in her life, that she’d want to be alone in moments like this. 

And oh. Oh you thought wrong. 

That night, you sang to her until she fell asleep. And slowly but surely, the “night ritual” put himself into place. 

Over the years, it didn’t change much. Because it was such a successful formula. Milk and cookies was talking about their day, getting their feelings out. A story by you. A soothing lullabies. Snuggles and kisses. 

Winning formula. 

Why change it ? Your children were all wildly different, but the one thing that linked them all, was how much they loved you and your antics. 

Each of them had “mom time”, where they’d spend the day just with you (just like your Broosh and you had date nights and such). You always took time to spend individual time with all of them, and during those times the activities would be very different from one kid to another. 

But those “night rituals” ? They didn’t need to change. Because they were perfect the way they were. Exactly what they all needed. Pure love, in many ways. And the knowledge they’d never be alone again. 

Love and loneliness. 

Two things your youngest son, Damian, struggled with for years. 

Damian

“I love you, little one.” 

The first time, Damian didn’t respond. He just nodded, and turned around in his bed, back facing you. 

He couldn’t face you, or you’d see the “stupid” smile plastering his face at the mere thought he was loved, and had a real mom...But that, you didn’t know.

You didn’t really take it personally, you happened to know another “emotionally stunted” Wayne, so you were used to it. It took a while, for Bruce to finally admit his feelings for you. Even if they were obvious, and written all over his face (which is why Damian used the “back facing you” trick). 

You knew it’d take time. So for now, you’d settle with a simple kiss, and reminding him he was cherished. 

And then one day... 

“Why do you not read me bed time stories ? Or make one up, with me as the hero ?” 

“Beg you pardon ?” 

You were diligently tucking him in, as he never told you off when you did it, when he asked this, taking you by surprise. What he said didn’t quite register, until he added : 

“Grayson says that when he was little, you’d tell him a story. Made him the hero of it. And then you’d sing. He said there were cookies, too. Why do you not do that with me ?” 

Oh. Oh. Oooooooooh. 

You got it now. But you’re no less surprised. 

“I thought...You had no interest in those ?” 

Damian nodded slowly, and said : 

“I know why you would think this...Mom.”

Mom. That...He hadn’t call you that very often, so far...

“But when you come to tuck me in, I never have nightmares. I sleep soundly, and I dream of-Soft things. Like unicorns and cats.” 

This makes you smile. Oh. Oh if only people could see the Damian right in front of you, and not the Damian he liked to pretend he was. 

Sweet, sweet boy. 

“I know why you think I don’t want a story, and snuggles, and all the thing Grayson gushed about for hours. But I...Do. I like when you come to tell me goodnight, and I wouldn’t mind if it lasted longer ?” 

He was so unsure. Very unlike his cocky usual self. 

This, was the real Damian. 

The one who really wants to connect with others, who wants to be good, but he’s just not really sure on how to proceed. So he pretends he doesn’t care. 

But he does. He cares a lot. 

He’s very much like your Broosh, in that regard. Like father like son, eh ? Both of them love to hide emotions from their faces, and pretend everything is ok, even when they’re breaking inside. 

Silly boys. 

You managed to reach Bruce. You were sure you could reach your son...

And it had already started. You could see it. You smile, and leave his room to get cookies and milk. 

And oh damn it, you should’ve told him you were doing that ! Because when you came back, he was laying in his bed and looked absolutely crestfallen ! There was even small tears in his eyes, oh no ! 

You quickly understood that he thought you were refusing to do the famous “night ritual” with him. That you just went to bed too, and weren’t going to tell him a story. 

His face brightens, truly brightens, reminding you of when the sun just comes out from behind high mountains. He sees the cookies and milk, and oh. Oh he looks so excited. 

You dried his tears with the back of your hand, and smiled fondly at him. 

It makes everything worth it. All your effort to connect with him, worth the work and heartache it brought. 

You knew. You knew you’d eventually make it. And it’s that evening, when he asked for “the night ritual”, that you truly realized it. 

First, cookies and milk, and a little talk about his day. His feelings, too. 

Then the story, one you made up with him as the hero. He seemed to love that, especially to be a good hero, and not a villain. Cute, and heartbreaking at the same time. 

Then come the lullabies. 

And finally, the soft drift to sleep, and a last feel of warmth as you kiss his forehead and leave him to a deep slumber. 

Damian has never felt so peaceful in his life before. 

Duke

You didn’t really dare, at first, going to tell him good night. 

Unlike your other children, Duke arrived in the family being a sixteen years old boy. Way pass needing someone to tuck him in. And you didn’t want to overstep your bound, you already knew how difficult things were for him. How hard it was to adapt to it all. 

It was quite the same than with Cass. But even more complicated. 

Cass’ childhood was inexistent, really. Destroyed before she could enjoy it. So sometimes, when with you or Bruce, she’d let go, and act like a child, even though she was older. It was fine. She never had a childhood, she could make up for it now. And so what if she liked hot cocoas and cuddles ? Nobody would hold it against her. 

In fact, most adults would probably LOVE to be taken care of by their mom again.

But Duke, was different. He had a happy childhood, parents who were loving and caring...His mom most likely told him stories, and sung him lullabies. 

And he was sixteen. And in the middle of an identity crisis, as his powers just barely manifested. 

So you didn’t go to tuck him in. Even if you really wanted to. 

You wanted to give Cass freedom, let her explore herself, as she always lived following someone else’s orders and view of life. 

But Duke ? Duke was an entirely different case from Cass. And you could see him, at times, feeling lost and sad. 

You always hated having your kids go to bed upset. But what could you do ? 

He was certainly not gonna let you...Or, was he ? 

After all, you never asked. 

“Do you...Want a bedtime story ?” 

He stares at you, visibly confused and thinking you’re a little crazy. And you realize yes, this question is ridiculous. The boy was sixteen ! 

“Nevermind, sorry that was stupid. I was just thinking...Well I don’t know what I was thinking. Sorry. Night buddy.” 

“Wait !” 

Uh ? There was a sort of little panic, in his voice. As if he was afraid you were leaving so soon. You turned around, and waited for him to speak again. 

“Maybe not a...bedtime story but...Maybe, maybe we could talk ? For a little bit ? My...My mom and I used to talk every night, it helped me sleep.” 

You felt a lot of things at the same time. 

Touched he wanted to do with you what he used to do with his mom. 

Reassured to realize your guts were right, and that his mom did tuck him in sweetly every night. 

And sad that it took him so long to ask you for this. 

“Of course Duke, of course.” 

Duke, was older than any of your other children, when he came into your life. But it didn’t mean...

It didn’t mean he didn’t need you. Or your motherly side. 

He never quite had the full “night ritual” experience, as some aspect of it were definitely too childish. But he had the cookies and milk. And the talk. And the feel that you would always be there for him. 

Always. 

************

The end ? 

No. 

Bruce 

Bruce tossed and tossed in his bed, sleep evading him. 

There used to be a time, every nights were like that. Unable to fall asleep, and when he did, his slumber was plagued with the most terrible nightmares. 

Maybe that’s why, more than anything else, he decided to use his nights to be a vigilante ? Of course, the cover of nights helped in many ways, doing his Batman work in broad daylight would be more difficult (even if he did do some work during the day). Especially in regards of his “Brucie Wayne” persona, his cover up, pretending he definitely can’t be Batman. 

Ever since his parents died, Bruce had trouble falling asleep. That’s probably why it was so easy for him to train himself to sleep barely a few hours a night, and stay in shape even as he often ran on very little resting time. 

He lived like that for so many years...

And then. Then you appeared in his life. 

And every nights in your arms were peaceful, he was taken by a deep sleep that could happen only with you. He slept so soundly, when you were there, that often when you had to wake up before him, you had to call Alfred so he’d help you untangle yourself from his grasp (I wrote a story about that haha : How to remove a Wayne safely).

You forced him to take at least one night off, and he was so sure he wouldn’t be able to rest on those nights...yet he always fell asleep like a baby, around 11 pm max, often falling asleep in front of whatever movie you were watching, just the two of you. 

You had that power. To allow him to sleep well, and not have such awful nightmares.

So when you weren’t with him, he couldn’t find sleep. 

He would toss, again and again, and whenever he’d almost fall asleep, his hand would unconsciously look for you in bed and the fact you were absent would make him be wide awake again. 

Yes. He just couldn’t sleep, when you weren’t there. 

Which is why...Which is why he was a little grumpy, when you would take a long time telling your children good night. It was a sort of jealousy he wasn’t very proud of. 

Fighting other men to get your attention ? Any day. Fighting his own children...Felt a little shameful. Not like he could control this feelings, there was time, he was a little selfish. And you two had such few times to yourself, with the life you lead, that any opportunity was taken gladly.

He’d always try to be there for the story time, and for a kiss and some “Love you, kiddo” before leaving either for the cave, or to take an early night in.

Early night ins. Rare occasion. 

Like tonight. His one night off this week. 

He trusted his cousin, Batwoman, to take care of the city, and his oldest sons, Dick and Jason, who were now old enough to go out there on their own, too...Well, he did still hid trackers in them, and made sure to ask Kate to keep an eye on them, but they were adults. 

Capable of taking care of themselves, and go out there to keep Gotham safe, and take care of their younger siblings.

They were still absolutely forbidden to go out there alone. And no one wanted to argue much with your husband about safety, he had already made punchlines for those occurrences and it was impossible to win against him. 

Cass, Tim, Damian and Duke weren’t allowed yet to fly solo like their older brothers. They were only allowed to go out there while Bruce wasn’t IF they were with Kate, Dick, or Jason. 

Bruce particularly liked when they were with Jason because although many would think he was the most reckless one, because of his “bad boy” reputation but...When it came to his siblings’ safety, he did NOT joke around. 

Dick encouraged them to become their own person, and to take initiative (he trusted them to know what they could and could not do, and he was right). But Jason ? Jason took after you, and your “mama hen” personality, for sure. 

Actually, Bruce often sneakily stuck one of his younger kid with Jason, so his reckless son would be more careful. Neither you nor your husband wanted to ever lose him again...So what if you had to resort to dirty tactics and ask him to look after a younger siblings for him to be less incautious ?

In any case, it had been a long time deal by then, that Bruce HAD to take at least one night off. All of them had; They each had one night a week. Conveniently, there were seven of them. 

On those nights, you and Bruce would be together every single second of it, relishing in a little alone time, and in spending an entire night together for once, and not just a few hours there and there. 

But tonight, Damian was sick, and couldn’t go out either. Which was why you weren’t in bed with Bruce, right now. You were tucking your sick son in, and it already took quite a while on normal days but as he was feeling under the weather ??

Bruce knew you. He knew you would stay with him until he fell asleep. And he knew his son, too. He knew he would try to stay awake as long as possible just to be with you. 

Which meant...Your husband being alone, right now, and unable to sleep. Ugh. He should’ve just gone out as Batman tonight, and take a break another day. ...As if you or Alfred would’ve let him. You knew that “taking a break another day”, with him, meant never. 

Bruce tossed a few more times, and resolved that he couldn’t sleep up until you’d come. So he sat up, and thought he might as well take a walk around the Manor. It always calmed him down, as a child... 

That’s when you decided to come in.

“Going somewhere ?” 

You ask him, suspicious. He knows you think he was about to leave for the Batcave. And he doesn’t correct you. It’s better you think that, you already knew way too much how to push all his buttons down, he’d rather you not know that he was in fact about to just walk around the Manor and not go to the bat cave because he promise you to take the night off... 

Oh. Oh if Superman could hear his thoughts right now. He would surely not recognize his “workaholic” friend...And definitely not recognize his will to not piss off his wife, and listen to her. The Batman didn’t care, if he pissed people off ! Well. Except for his wife, who could be very scary, when angry. 

Damn it. 

Your face. 

Your face shows much concern, behind that slight bit of anger at the thought he was about to sneak to the Batcave, that he can’t hold it back for too long. 

To hell, if you were the only one who knew him perfectly, and had him wrapped around your little finger. You gave it back to him plenty. So, just as soon as he was telling himself he wouldn’t tell you the truth...He told you the truth : 

“No. I was-...I was just about to take a walk around the Manor.” 

You look at him, a question in your eyes. And you don’t have to ask him, as he answers : 

“I can’t sleep when you’re not there. Needed to clear my mind.” 

It makes you smile, of course. And it’s the truth, oh it’s the truth. 

He really can’t fall asleep, when you’re not near. 

You climb on the bed, and slowly move to him. 

“How’s Damian ?” 

“Asleep. His fever went down, finally. Thanks the gods.” 

“Was he trying to fight sleep, and argue to have another story ?”

“Oh you know he did.” 

“Haha, I don’t blame him. Anything, to keep you closer for longer.” 

“What a sappy man you turned out to be, my heart. Who would’ve thunk, right ?” 

“Don’t tell Clark.” 

This makes you laugh, and you move even closer to him, settling in his laps, facing him. His hands find themselves around your waist naturally, and as you lay your own hands on his cheeks, looking at him fondly and longingly, you say : 

“I love you, my Broosh.” 

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.” 

“I love you so much I think I’d die if you were gone.” 

“I love you so much I put up with your bullshit.”

“Hahaha. Cheeky. I love you so much I eat your awful gluten free cake without batting an eye.” 

“You ass ! Well, I love you so much I don’t even mention it when you call this disgusting mixture you make in the morning “coffee” “

“Oh wow, ouch. I love you so much I don’t even care about you criticize me.”

You chuckle a little, and kiss his nose, before adding :  

“I love you so much, that I wouldn’t change anything in my life. Not even the heartaches...Because everything lead me to you. And a life without you, is no life at all.” 

Admittedly, you cheated a bit, using his “I love you so much without you I’d die” against him, twisting things a little to pack a little more punch. And...

There’s a short pause, he looks at you, and then he leans over, slowly and softly pecking your lips. You think this means you won tonight, and you will be back in his arms in no time, allowing him to sleep properly...But you’re wrong. 

He says, after burying his face in the crook of your neck, in barely a whisper, his breath tickling you softly : 

“I love you so much, I would quit being Batman if you asked me to.” 

“Wait, what ?” 

You never asked him to. You never did, and never will. Because you were on of the only person on this Earth that truly understood him, and that loved him unconditionally. 

You knew and understood why he dressed like a bat each (or almost each) nights, to go fight crimes in Gotham City. 

You knew and understood all of his motives. 

And for this reason, you’d never ask him to stop doing so. But him admitting he would stop if you did ask, it made you feel...So much. 

It touched you beyond all measure. You didn’t even know how to respond to it. 

“Ah, I win, didn’t I ?” 

You had no words to answer. You knew how much you loved him, how much he meant to you, and how impossible it was to even envision a life without him. But he always  managed to surprise YOU with how deeply in love he was with you. How much he’d give up, just for you. How you knew, he would burn the entire world, if it meant saving you...

He would for his children, too. There was no doubt in his mind that if he had been to that warehouse sooner, and killing the Joker meant saving Jason...he would’ve done it. There was no point doing in afterward, once his son was already gone...But there, in the moment, to save him ?

He would. He would kill everyone, just to save his family. 

This was a side not a lot of people knew. They all assumed he wouldn’t do it, that he would let you or his children die for the greater good. That’s why considering, you guys weren’t kidnapped that much. 

Every villain, everyone, always thought that the Batman would not budge from his principles even if it meant saving those he loved. 

And they were wrong. They were so wrong. 

It was good, though, that only you knew that. 

“Ah. I win, didn’t I ?” 

You don’t have the words to answer him, your heart overflowing with so much. Overwhelming. So you go to the next best thing. 

Actions. 

You kiss him. With all the passion and love you can gather in your being. 

You kiss him, and he kisses you back. 

That. 

That was his night ritual. 

The only way he could fall asleep peacefully, like he used to when his mom and dad tucked him in. Before their death. 

Finding purchase once more, in your arms, after years of night plagued with nightmares and pain. 

Being near you. With you. In every way possible. Touching you, feeling you near. Right there. By him. 

The big bad bat’s “night ritual”, it was you. 

It was, and would always be you. 

The end (for good, this time, haha). 

_________________________________________________

As you might’ve noticed, I’m in a very soft mood lately haha. I guess I’m just happy about my current situation, so I wanna write all the fluff and make the Batfam happy...Not for long though. I have some mighty angst in store for you, just you wait ;). In any case, here’s to a small bonus story. Hope you liked it even if it’s not what I said I’d post ^^'. I assure you what I planned is coming, I’m just being damn slow. As usual any comments and reblogs are more than welcomed <3. 

PS : Last time I posted a bonus story, an anon wasn’t happy I wasn’t posting longer stories I said I would post soon haha...So just a quick thing : those stories I’ve been posting lately literally take between 20 minutes to an hour to write. It’s extra fast, and I don’t re-read myself. So I can post them rather rapidly. But those I have in store that are long as hell and full on one-shots I thought a lot about, not just random drabbles, need a lot more work. Which is why they take longer. Which I’d think is obvious to everyone (most of y’all are super understanding and nice <3), but I guess not huh...Please. Be patient with me. I’m super busy lately. But everything I said I’d post WILL be posted. I can promise this much. 

[troubatrain]

tis the damn season - m. tkachuk

a/n: as we all know, i am an absolute whore for a christmas fic and when i listened to evermore yesterday i knew this needed to be done. i literally haven’t written anything this fast in forever but i hope you guys like it!! (also tagging @igor-shestyorkin​ @blueskrugs​ & @fenwaynightlights​ for reading this last night and telling me it was good so i’d actually finish it ily)

The second you walked into the party, Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you. He knew you were coming, but watching you step into his parent’s house with a plate of your famous chocolate chip cookies and a smile that made his heart skip a beat, was almost taunting him. You dated forever ago, the last real relationship Matthew had ever been in, and by the looks of it - it was staying like that. You greeted everyone, down to the biggest hug to his grandparents who swore you were going to be Matthew’s wife one day. That was because that’s just how you were, kind and smart and constantly impressing anyone who Matthew introduced you too. Every teammate he had at the time loved you, and he knew if you were in Calgary his team now would be the same. Brady adored you, even admitting to his brother he still called you for girl advice because if Matthew fumbled the bag when it came to you there was no way Brady should take his advice. Matthew couldn’t even think about your relationship with his sister, or how crushed she was when you broke up. Then there was his parents, his mom swore it would be okay. That it was just Matthew’s first love and eventually he’d find his forever but he knew she was lying. Matthew found forever with you, and he let it implode because his dream was just more important at the time. Now, he could be at the top of the world and none of it mattered because you weren’t by his side.

Matthew just felt dumb now, because you were on to bigger and better things and you weren’t hung up on your high school ex-boyfriend. You went off to college, crushed it, and moved back into St. Louis with a near perfect job offer and success practically radiating off of you. He was standing in his kitchen in the worst Bud Light Christmas sweater like an eighteen year old frat boy and you looked every bit like the goddess Matthew knew you were. The perfect Christmas red dress you were wearing sat on your frame flawless, and it was obvious that red was still your color.

“I can leave if you want me to?” You ask, leaning into Matthew when you finally made your way over to him. Your voice was low, mouth close to Matthew’s ear while you hugged him so no one could hear you ask. You were an infinitely better person than he was, so of course you asked him if it was okay to stay.

“You’re always welcome here, you know that,” Matthew answers, sipping his beer for some liquid courage he desperately needed.

“Just because your mom invites me doesn’t mean I need to be here,” You shrug, “Maybe you’ve got someone here…”

He would never. Matthew had never even considered it, what it would be like to bring someone home that wasn’t you. There wasn’t one person in Calgary who could measure up, and despite the fact that his family loved him and would accept anyone with open arms, deep down Matthew knew you would always be on their minds.

“I don’t,” Matthew says, trying to stop himself from wrapping his arm around your waist while you stand with your chest still pressed against his from your hello hug, “I mean what would be the point? They don’t make cookies like you do.”

Matthew had to joke, cover up the fact that he was never able to let go of what you had and choke it down with beer he was drinking. He liked seeing you, the same times he did every year. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the occasional summer BBQ was something he looked forward to, sometimes he even hoped for an extra reason for you to both be somewhere. He knew you’d come, because you wouldn’t dare deny his mother’s invitation.

“Of course you noticed I made them,” You rolled your eyes, pushing Matthew back jokingly, “Remember when you used to beg me to make them-”

You stopped yourself when you noticed where this was going, you never brought up the before times. The times when Matthew would give you his best puppy dog eyes for you to bake him something, followed by a plea to just look the other way when he devoured the entire plate.

“Maybe it’s best we broke up, I probably never would’ve gotten drafted by eating these,” Matthew teases, sliding past you to grab a cookie off the counter and taking a big bite, “Because fuck these are good.”

Matthew’s moans in delight sent a chill up your spine. You hated that he could still do that to you, because it was the same thing every time. You’d see him, and for a moment you’d think that this would work itself out. You could get back together, and falling in love would be just as sweet a second time, but it wouldn’t work. You were settling into your own, a fresh lease signed in your new apartment you were going to move into after New Year’s, and Matthew was going to go back to Calgary where he was a big deal. That was always the dream, to make it big in the league and make his parents proud. Matthew was doing it, not that you ever doubted him, but you were proud nonetheless.

The thing was, because Matthew was doing the damn thing, he gave up you. It was like a deal he made with the devil when he was seventeen, he could have everything he ever wanted if he didn’t have you to hold him back. You always knew that was why he broke up with you, it was the right person at the wrong time.

“It’s nice to see you Matthew,” You muse, biting the inside of your cheeks to hold back the grin on your face. You stopped the conversation before it started, constantly trying to make this as painless as possible, but it wasn’t always easy.

“Wait, uh, you’re going to be here until Christmas right?” Matthew asks, grabbing your attention before you slipped out of the kitchen. Matthew was hopeful, catching a flight a few days earlier than he usually could and landing before Christmas gave him more time to see you.

“I’ll be at my parents house,” You nod, thinking about your childhood bedroom that was currently covered in moving boxes while you waited to settle into your new place.

“Oh sweet,” Matthew takes another swing of his drink, trying to keep his cool because you were the only person who made him completely uncool.

“Yeah, sweet, I’ll see you around,” You wave, disappearing into the kitchen. Matthew takes a deep breath, collecting his thoughts for a minute until Brady stepped in front of him. His little brother scoffed, a stupid smirk on his face when he finally spoke.

“Dude that was painful to watch.”

***

Matthew had no idea what the fuck he was doing. His feet were just carrying all two hundred and two pounds of his body in the exact direction of your house. He was drunk, well over the limit of how many whiskey shots he could even handle. He looked at his watch, it was almost three in the morning but if he didn’t get it out now when would he ever. He loved you, and all he could think about is what would happen if he could have just had one more night with you. Maybe you’d feel it, you’d always been pretty intuitive with his feelings, because he was awful with them. He had to make his case, did he even have one?

Oh hey Y/N, I know I’m hammered and it’s three in the morning the day before Christmas Eve but I want you to know I’m still in love with you.

That wouldn’t work, and he was going to have to do better than that. He could turn around and go home, but if he had to watch another one of your Instagram stories and pray that whoever was in them wasn’t your boyfriend again - he would lose his mind before he made it to the holidays next year. He snuck past the gate into your yard, not surprised to see your whole house was sleeping quietly. He picked up a few pebbles from your mother’s garden, shaking them in his hand and hoping you remembered the way he let you know he was outside when you’d sneak out in high school.

One.

Two.

Three.

You were woken up by the sound of three pebbles hitting your window, and you rub your eyes in disbelief by what you were hearing. Matthew wasn’t outside your window at three in the morning looking for you, why would he even think about it? 

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask, poking your head out the window and crossing your arms to battle the cool air blowing through.

“Come down?” Matthew asks, wiping his palms on the back of his jeans and giving you his best smile. A real one, because you’d always been able to tell when it was fake.

You should’ve closed the window, and pushed Matthew to the back of your mind until you found yourself creeping on his Instagram again. You were always a good listener, and you always tried to do the right thing but Matthew was your vice. He’d always been a little bit a bad boy, but never enough to stop you from coming back for more. So you opened your window a little more, slipping down and scaling down your house just like you used to.

Matthew could have pretended like he didn’t notice, his last name faded on the back of the hoodie you were wearing, but he couldn’t. You looked just as cute in it as you did all of those years before, “Seven was such a good number on you, I wish I could have kept it.”

You could feel the heat on your cheeks, hoping Matthew couldn’t catch it in the moonlight, “Why are you here?”

“I want one more night,” Matthew takes a deep breath, standing his ground, “I, uh fuck-”

Matthew Tkachuk had never been good with words. He put his foot in his mouth, all the time, but his plea was something you never thought you’d hear. It was Christmas, you were lonely, and a part of you wondered the same thing. So you said fuck it and decided that this was your problem later, pressing your lips to Matthew’s. Your hands gripped his shirt, trying to get as close to him as you could. Matthew was dumbfounded, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers digging into your sides.

“Can you be quiet?” You ask, pointing at the back door. It was the middle of the night and your parents room was on the first floor but if Matthew was quiet enough you could get him upstairs easily - you used to do it all the time.

Matthew nodded eagerly, following you inside and tip-toeing up the stairs. He was doing a terrible job, either he’d gotten bigger or the floors in your parents house had gotten creakier.

“You said you could be quiet,” You tease, letting Matthew push you against the door, he twisted the lock, smirking at you.

“I’m a lot bigger than I used to be,” Matthew declares, fake puffing out his chest.

“I noticed…” You muse, running over your hands over his shoulders. He’d gotten broader with age, and it wasn’t something that was lost on you. You press your lips to his, throwing your hands around his neck and pulling him closer. Your fingers crept up to his curls, tugging on them slightly. Matthew smirked against your lips, “I missed that.”

“I missed you,” Matthew mutters, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you to your bed. You squeal, tucking your head into shoulder to stop the noise, “Who’s the loud one now?”

“Well don’t stop kissing me then,” You tease, grabbing Matthew and pulling him on top of you. You worked quickly, a pile of clothes in the corner of your that was going to be addressed later. Matthew’s lips were on your neck, his finger circling your clit while you bit your lip hold back a moan, “Matty please-”

The nickname slipped your lips so easily it was like you never should have stopped calling him that. Matthew took notice, and it was like music to his ears, “Anything you want babe.”

“Fuck me,” You breathe out, desperate for as much of him as you could get. Matthew slipped out of his boxers, pumping himself a few times before he gave you a look. You nodded, giving him the go ahead and pulling his lips back to yours. Matthew slipped inside you, and it’d never felt better.

Matthew was better now, much much better. His hips were snapping into you, a near perfect pace while grunts left his lips. The pleasure was almost too much, and you could feel your nails scratching into his back while you bit into his shoulder to keep yourself quiet. His hand snaked down to your clit, “Cum for me babe, c’mon.”

You clenched around him, the sensation was enough to send Matthew over the edge, spilling into you. He dropped to his elbows, placing lazy kisses on your skin while you basked in the post sex glow. Matthew’s skin was glistening against the moonlight from your window, his breath in your ear while you caught yours and it all felt right.

“You know you have to go now,” You remind him, “My dad will murder you if he catches you up here.”

“I know,” Matthew bumps his nose against yours, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow? Or later?”

Later. It had completely slipped your mind that in just a few hours you were going to be forced to run an annual day before Christmas Eve 5k with the Tkachuk’s like you did every year. The idea was somehow worse than doing it on Thanksgiving, and now you had to see Matthew after you let him fuck you in your childhood bedroom. You watched Matthew dress himself, hopping out your window and back to his own house.

Now you just needed some sleep.

***

You felt like shit, and you were missing the iced coffee you didn’t have a chance to get while you trailed behind your parents to meet the Tkachuk’s. You greeted everyone, stopping at Matthew last, you were unsure of how to even greet him after what you’d just done a few hours before. He didn’t think anything of it, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his chest.

“Here,” Matthew says, nudging his cup towards you. You assumed it was coffee, but then the taste of a mimosa hit your tongue.

“Jeez,” You choke, coughing while you take down the champagne with just a hint of orange juice.

“Do you think I was going to run this sober? You wore me out last night,” Matthew teases, and he could feel Brady’s gaze on him.

The wheels in Brady’s head were turning. He was suspicious, catching Matthew sneak back into the house early in the morning, and now watching the two of you - it was clear. It became even clearer when they started running, because Brady knew Matthew wasn’t that slow and he didn’t wasn’t going to let Brady beat him. He was though, jogging behind Brady with you and laughing at whatever you said. There was one thing that was clear, Matthew got over his dumb fear of talking to you and finally did. His brother was happy, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was going to watch this explode in your faces in a few days. Matthew would go back to Calgary and just the first time you broke, it was going to be ugly.

***

The winter in St. Louis was brisk, but Matthew’s warm body next to you was enough to fight it. Your head was on his chest, and you were snoring softly. Matthew picked you up a few hours after you got home, driving up to the same lake you snuck off to in high school. He stole Brady’s truck, driving off with a bunch of blankets without giving Brady an answer as to where he was going. It was supposed to be romantic, but you’d always been prone to falling asleep when you were with him.

Matthew didn’t have a complaint in the world, you slept the same way you used to. Your head on his chest, a leg tangled with his and your hands clutched to his shirt so he couldn’t move. He wasn’t going anywhere. Matthew would let you sleep the entire day away if he could have. He carded his hands through your hair, a content sigh leaving his lips.

Matthew often wondered what would have happened if you never broke up. If you’d followed him to Calgary and what that would have been like. Maybe you’d still be together, and after all these years he’d start looking for a ring. If you’d buy a house together, maybe even be that family that houses wayward hockey players just like his parents did. You’d be the person he got to share looks with across the room when he was forced to have conversations he didn’t want to have. He’d get to take you family skates and you’d get to see him play and you’d live happily ever after.

Reality was always much more cruel, and it wasn't pretty. You had a life in St. Louis, one that didn’t include him. You were moving along in your life just fine without him. You didn’t need Matthew and it was dumb of him to think you’d drop it all for him. You never asked him to stay, and it would be unfair to ask you to wait around.

“I can hear you thinking, you might start to malfunction soon bubs,” You whisper, your voice still laced with sleep. You meant to run a hand through his hair, but the palm of your hand just hit his forehead while you moved it back down slowly. Matthew chuckles, the silly nicknames you gave him seemed to come out without a second thought, and it felt good to be called any of them by you.

“Just thinking about you,” Matthew breathes, and you pick up your head. Matthew shoots you a smile, but you knew he was faking it.

“Matty-” You take one deep breath, “Don’t ask me to come with you, you know it’s not fair to me.”

Your voice was cracking, pleading Matthew to just not have this conversation. You weren’t ready for it, because it meant accepting defeat. The universe wasn’t going to allow you to be together, and that’s just how it was going to be.

“I don’t want to go back to Calgary,” Matthew whispers, more to himself than you. He did want to go back, but he wanted to go back with you.

“You have to,” You sit up, a chill running through your body from the loss of Matthew’s body next to yours. You rub your arms to warm up, “You have to because we’re just not going to make it work Matty.”

Matthew nods solemnly, like his heart just broke all over again. You were right, you always were, it just seemed naïve to think you’d both be any different now than you were the first time, “Let me take you home.”

The car ride was awkward. The only thing cutting through the silence was the Christmas music playing on the radio. You sat with your head pressed against the window, counting down the streets until you finally hit yours. Matthew halted the car, and you gave him one more look before you stepped out of the car, “Tell your parents I said Merry Christmas.”

“I will,” Matthew nods, and those were the last words you heard him say before you walked up your stairs. Matthew waited for you to be inside before he drove off, a small part of him hoping you’d run back to the car and tell him you wanted him too. You didn’t, and that was just how it was going to be.

***

Christmas was awful, the past two days seemed to pass were pure agony. You were sad, and knowing Matthew was about three blocks and four houses away wasn’t helping. You were counting down the hours until he was back in Calgary, away from you and you could finally grieve him for the final time. The last nail in the coffin of what was once your first love had yet to be hammered in but once he was gone that would settle it.

You had two more hours until you knew his flight would leave, and you were so close to the finish line you could taste it. You were home alone, your parents still making their way to a few neighbors' houses to spend the last few moments of the holiday with their friends. You were sulking, a wine bottle stolen from your mother’s collection and the Grinch on your TV. 

A doorbell was the only thing to interrupt you, and you could see a tuft of curly hair through the window. Matthew was standing outside your door, pacing back and forth while he waited for you to open it. You thought about acting like you weren’t home, maybe he’d leave and never come back. You opened it, not even having a chance to open your mouth before he spoke.

“Come with me,” Matthew pleads, “I love you, I still do and I always have and we’re meant to be together. There isn’t anyone I want more by my side than you, and I know it’ll be hard but I’m not ready to let you slip through my fingers again.”

“Matthew-” You interrupt grabbing his arm to stop his pacing, “Listen to yourself.”

“I am, and I want this, I never wanted to give up you and I just can’t fly back there with people who don’t know when I’m faking a smile or when I don’t want to be somewhere,” Matthew explains, running a hand over his face, “You’re the best I’ll ever have and I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

“I’ll come until New Year’s,” You agree, Matthew’s face breaking out into a very real smile, “We need to talk about this Matthew.”

“You talk, I’ll listen, you can have whatever you want,” Matthew agrees, because he’d move the sun if he could for you. His lips pressed against yours, pushing you against the same front door he kissed you in front of on your first date. The porch light still flickers the way it used to while Matthew’s hands gripped your face because he was afraid to let you go. You both finally pulled, Matthew mumbling his next words against your lips.

Tis the damn season huh?

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: April 13th, 2021

And we’re back again with more replies so soon, haha. Thank you for the asks!

Your game literally saved me this hell ass year. Thank you so much for the most perfect piece of art I've ever laid eyes on 😫 ... Do you guys have a rough idea when step 3 DLC will be released? I hope I'm not coming off as rude. I just really really love your game.

I’m sorry for the late reply on this! You might’ve already seen the answer by now, but the Step 3 DLC is coming out on the 16th. We’re almost there :D

This may be a silly question but did Jeremy's parents ever find out that Pran had lied about his age and if so, when/how? :3

Pran came clean to them after a couple of years, when he felt secure enough that it wouldn’t ruin the relationship. The Kings were a little embarrassed, the dad more than the mom, but they’re quite good at brushing past those kind of mistakes so it was all water under the bridge pretty fast.

hi! i know you’ve answered a question about alterations in the our life moments by playing them in different orders, but i was wondering if there was a canon order that the moments for each step happen in? i figure with such a customizable game the “canon” timeline for the moments is whatever order the player completes them in, for example in step 1, i like playing the runaway moment pretty early, since cove trying to run away early in summer makes more sense to me personally. thanks!

Yeah, there’s no canon order we’d insist on. Whatever you like can be the official route for you! And that’s a neat way to look at that event.

What if your character isn’t that into physical contact but still wants to be in a relationship with Cove? Would he be offended if you shy away or something along those lines?

He wouldn’t be. Cove knows how hard that can be and is very understanding. If you set his initiative to low, the game always checks to make sure if you want to be touched or not rather than assuming that you do. And if you do choose that you don’t want to, there’s no stress or drama about it. Cove will just say that’s okay!

Hellu! First off, I want to thank you all for such a wonderful game, it's been the best feel-good game I've ever stumbled upon and I can't express enough how much it has meant to me. Second, I've seen lots of people having trouble with making Cove confess before MC which makes me wonder if people will have the same problem in the dlc when you can propose to him. Is it possible to post a guide for that as well when it no longer could count as a spoiler? Again, thanks for such a beautiful game <3

I’m really happy you had such a nice time with it c:. We’ll answer questions about it on tumblr/in the discord if they come up and, if need be, we’ll find somewhere to upload a guide.

Do we get steam key from buying dlc on itch io?

I’m afraid not. That’d be unfair to those who get it on Steam. Plus, Steam isn’t super cool with giving out thousands of keys to be handed out for free on other sites anymore. They can refuse to give us the keys if they feel we’re trying to take advantage of their system.

hi! so if we reject cove's confession in step 3, can we still have MC and cove get together in step 4?

You can confess to him, yeah. But Cove won’t ever try confessing again if the MC turns him down in Step 3.

What if MC acts like someone Cove doesn't like, like Lizzie or Baxter lol

You can’t do what Lizzie or Baxter does to make Cove dislike them. You can play the game and try, but it doesn’t work out. The MC is just too compatible with Cove if you’re fond/crush/love, haha.

Hi! I absolutely love your game, I love the characters they’re all so amazing, thank you for the game haha

I was wondering if you would get the NSFW DLC no matter what Patreon level you were at, or if you would could get it at any level? :)

&

What pateron tier do we need to get the 18+ content for Our Life? It's my new favourite game, keep up the good work!

It will eventually be available at the $5 tier and anything above that! Glad you both like OL ^^

On a scale from 1 (being the worst) to 10, how well do the XOXO jerk squad including JB handle horror?

JB: 8

Everett: 5

Nate: 4

Shiloh: 10

Bae: 10

Jeremy: 8 for non-gore horror, 2 for gory horror

Pran: 9

hello!! i was wondering if any of the boys from the Jerksquad would ever wear a skirt/dress?

None of them wear skirts/dresses out of personal preference. But if there was some kind of reason where they had to do it, none would be that bothered.

How does the jerk squad feel about Christmas? 

Everett: He fucking loves it. That’s the best time of year.

Nate: Commercialized nonsense.

Shiloh: It’s wonderful! So he claims.

Bae: He likes it quite a bit, but only for the joy it brings children/family. He thinks that’s sweet but is too mature to be whipped up into a festive fervor himself.

Jeremy: It’s awful.

Pran: He hates it.

does cove have any pet allergies? yes I know this is a little weirdly specific

He doesn’t! The lucky boy isn’t allergic to any animal.

Very important question: Would Lee and a musical-theatre loving MC run around belting Into The Unknown from Frozen 2? Because I feel that they would 

Probably, haha.

This might seem like a dumb question, so I’m sorry, but with the Derek DLC are we gonna get to hang out with him in person instead of just calling him in step 3? 

The Derek DLC adds events in Step 2 and Step 4. It’s part of his story that you don’t really get to be around him in Step 3. But you don’t need to apologize for wondering!

hello! i'd like to ask if it's possible to play the android version of the game with the dlcs after buying the dlcs from steam. i wasn't expecting my android version to have my dlcs since i bought them from steam, but it had my step 2 dlc for some reason. is this a glitch or does the apk actually detect what dlcs you already have on your pc? if so, how come i don't have the step 1 dlc appearing on android? thanks!

That is some kind of glitch. It isn’t possible for the Android DLCs to be unlocked by having them on PC. Maybe in one of the old builds we accidentally didn’t lock the Step 2 DLC properly. Sorry for the confusion!

Does Derek and Baxter have canon sexualities? Will Derek still flirts with the MC regardless of their gender?

They’re both pansexual and can like the MC regardless of what gender they have.

I was wondering if Miranda had a crush on Cove in Step 3? I'm not sure why, but I got those vibes from her?

She thinks of him only as a friend. Cove isn’t her type, haha.

This is probably a dumb hope, but I hope Cliff find someone he loves after Cove is grown up and everything. Or at the very least he has someone he's very close with after Cove leaves. 

That’s a really sweet thought to have. Cliff stays single, but he’s graysexual and not-particularly romantically inclined. He only dated when he was really young ‘cause that’s what everyone did. Family and friend relationships are more important to him, and he has plenty of that in his life ^^.

Heya! I was curious if there might be a nickname system in N&F? I kind of pull an Elizabeth when I play and choose a different variation of a name like having Rosie in step one and changing it to Rose in step two, then maybe Rosetta in step three for example, but it also feels a little bit odd being scolded using my nickname hehe. That's all I was wondering about, thank you for your time and the wonderful games!

We are hoping to include the option to go by a nickname in Our Life: Now & Forever. But nothing has been programmed yet, so we can’t 100% guarantee it, haha.

Just curious, what would Liz's and Cove's relationship be if MC wasn't around? I feel like they wouldn't get along as well as they do now, especially during the first and second step 

They’d definitely have a lot of friction growing up and they’d likely avoid each other as much as possible. Once they were both older, I imagine they’d be decent neighbor acquaintances. But they still wouldn’t be nearly as close as they are with the MC bringing Cove into things.

What do the customizable eyes look like in the game? Do they look as they are in the creating avatar section? Or do they look different when actually playing the game?

That’s up to you! The doll is just meant to be a general idea. You can apply it to your imagined MC as much or as little as you prefer.

Did Cove go through a "phase" during his adolescence? I don't really wanna headcanon it so I wonder if there's anything (cringy) canon since we missed out on the ages of 14-17 hahaha

Not really, aha. 14-17 Cove is pretty recognizable to his 13 and 18 year old self.

Hello! I'm sorry to bother you, especially with all the messages you get. I was just wondering if the religious wedding venue was exclusive to a church or if there will be different religions of weddings? Also, I love this VN so much, it's so well written and every character is so amazing, thank you for making such a beautiful game.

The church is treated as a historic building rather than anything actively religious, but it’s not the only option like that. There’s a historic synagogue and stuff too! And that’s really nice of you to say <3.

How differently would it play out If MC told their moms about the 20$ deal back when it happened? 

They wouldn’t have been happy and would’ve been far more skeptical of Cliff, aha. But they wouldn’t want to keep Cove away from the MC, so it wouldn’t have been too different in the long run.  

Hello may I ask what Cove's favorite fudge/ice cream flavor would be? Its alright if its not answered 

He appreciates them all, but his top favorites would be the fruit flavored ones and the ones with nuts.

Hi! I really wanted to make mc's house in a game and tried really hard to figure out the floor plan, but I wondered if you have the floor plan of the mc's house so that i can try again with more accuracy?

Thank you a lot for this game, i loved it a lot! (my first play took me 8 hours lol)

I’m really sorry, we don’t have anything like that. But at least you can headcanon that what you did is correct and nothing can prove it wrong, haha.

Hello,I recently started playing lake of voices (I put it off for a long while since I’m usually not very good with horror) and I’m really happy I did!I’m a big fan of your games in general and lake of voices was absolutely great as well.I loved the characters and the dark setting of it,I adored the beautiful art and music and the story was great too,sometimes unsettling and sometimes very sweet.My favorite Route in the game was definitely Lu,I liked his character and was really shocked and distraught by his Route at least two times.I didn’t see the plot twist(s) coming at all!

Besides these ramblings I’ve also wanted to ask if you still remember how to get the lower two CGs on page 5?I seem to always miss them and would appreciate any help.Anyways I hope I wasn’t too much of a bother and I wish the devs a great day!:)

Thank you for all the kind words <3. You get those DLCs by going through the end of the Guide’s character path. You can use the guides on Steam to help you find it/reach the end!

—– —– —– —–

Thank you again for all of these questions :D

We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ   Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

[phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust]

It annoys me when people complain about Julian and call him “whiny “. The person that John hurt the most throughout his whole life is his own son! I feel like this gets glossed over because he was more attentive to Sean “At least he was a good father to one of his children”. John failed Julian massively. Having Sean should’ve motivated him to try harder with Julian but I feel like it demotivated him because he realised how much of Julian’s life he missed and that made him feel bad about himself. Even in May’s book she says that John would’ve avoided Julian for the rest of his life to avoid feeling bad about himself & the choices he made with his life. And even when he got his visa he was happy to fly to other countries but not the country containing his son! I mean c’mon that’s very shitty and inexcusable. People can’t relate to John’s callous treatment of Julian so it’s downplayed and undermined by the excuse of “Oh well, John was better with Sean”. I know John appeared more motivated towards the end but doesn’t absolve him of the damage and pain he already caused to his son.

I try to understand John’s neglect of Julian from his perspective - I don’t want to excuse or justify it, but I still want to know what was going through his head to make him treat Julian the way he did - but I just can’t really understand it in the same way I feel like I can empathise with a lot of John’s other flaws. Like I feel like I can understand Johns mistreatment of certain people, or his mood swings, or his anger etc. But when it comes to Julian I struggle to understand him, and I just think its such a shame that Julian never got the closure he deserved with John. But I guess a few things to keep in mind when discussing this are:

1. Alfs abandonment

That Johns father, Alfred, abandoned him at such a young age, this might have affected John in such a way that made connecting with children a real challenge. Of course, he ideally still would’ve made an effort to connect with Julian more - but I guess that this was 1963, and he was someone who at this point had had absolutely no therapy. John’s own father I think was placed in an orphanage around the age of 5, so this neglect and abandonment appeared to be a bit of a cycle within the Lennon family-tree. Alf didn’t develop the neurones to be able to connect with his son the way a father ideally should be able to, and therefore John had trouble forming these connections too.

A real tragic story regarding this disconnect is one that ive heard Paul tell a few times (see this interview at 6:24 to hear him tell it). He essentially compares his ability to just naturally connect with children, to John’s inability to do the same; Paul grew up in a household where children and babies alike were around all the time - and in addition to this, there seemed to have been a lot more affection involved in his early environment compared to Johns. So when Paul was able to pal around at ease with Julian, John asked “How do you do that?” - and its unfortunately just not something you can just learn. I think John did want to be able to relate to Julian, and a part of him wanted to be a real dad - but I guess he just lacked the initiative to do so, as well as not having the needed facilities provided for him to be able to function as “good” parent (< or in other words, that man needed alottttttttt of therapy omg—)

2. Aunt Mimi’s coldness

I think by now its sort of been established that im not Mimi’s no. 1 fan - I don’t hate her, and I think she genuinely loved John, but ive been pretty critical of what I perceive her parenting style to be like. One aspect of this parenting style is that I think she was cold and deprecating towards John, which I presume took a toll on his relationships in such a way that made him susceptible to cynicism and even bitter contempt towards those he loved most.

“She never hit him: her worst punishment was to ignore him…When she did, he’d plead, ‘Don’t ‘nore me, Mimi!’” - I think that this type of parenting style could have effected the way John relates to Julian, perhaps making him feel it was okay to abandon him, maybe as a result of some unrecognised childhood angst or revenge.

Theres also a story where I think John said something to Julian a long the lines of, “I hate your laugh!”. Like, Jules was just some four year old living his life and then John, his own father, had this massive fucking mood swing. I feel bad for Julian cause my parents were like this (had random fucking mood swings and said some pretty contemptuous things) so I can empathise with him. At the same time though, I feel like I can understand John getting these mood swings (although, I don’t think that showing that kind of contempt towards a child is at all acceptable, and assuming that this sort of thing was a regular occurrence, I would say he was emotionally abusive towards Julian. Maybe John got these mood swings from Mimi (check this post for more on that).

3. Yoko’s influence and isolation

I think we first have to take into account here that John had a history of neglecting and failing Julian, and from what im aware of, he only started making contact with him again during his ‘Lost Weekend’ after being encouraged to do so by May Pang. So I don’t think we can make Yoko take all the blame for Johns neglect of Julian (and certainly not his emotional abuse towards Julian). But I think we have to also account for the fact that Julian has stated Yoko would refuse to put him through when he would ring his dad. And I just don’t know how much John had to do with that - as in, I don’t if John knew Yoko was isolating him to the extent that she did, or if he was unaware that she was rejecting several important and significant figures in his life.

For what its worth, Julia Baird wrote in her memoir of John urging (or really, begging) her to go to Cynthias house and ask Julian to phone him, because he hadn’t been able to get through to Julian, and he was trying to construct a better relationship with him around this time (this was before Sean was born, like you said, he seemed to lose motivation with Julian after Sean was born). I don’t know why Julian wasn’t taking his calls around this time - John seemed to think it had something to do with Cynthia, perhaps it was an autonomous decision made by Julian, perhaps it was entirely just a misunderstanding; I don’t know.

When it comes to Yoko, im conflicted - to some extent, I think John was being manipulated by her, and she was clearly isolating (even abusing) him - but also, he’s a grown man, and so he had to take the initiative for his own life. So I don’t know, but id say she is still partly responsible for spoiling Johns relationship with Julian.

~ ~ ~

At the end of the day, all I can really say is that John was just a classic case of parents needing therapy before they start, y’know, parenting - but it was 1963, and thats just not something most people underwent back then, especially people with more complex and unrecognised traumas, as well as mental illnesses that, whilst prevalent, may not have been so apparent. To clarify that point, I think John could function well-enough in his day to day life to be able to get by, because I don’t think his traits of mental illness tended to disrupt his life to such a degree that he could not function (at least not in 1963, though in later years, id argue more so they did; but even still, I don’t think John tended to struggle with mania or psychosis etc.) But I think he was still dealing with mental illness in a way that wrecked almost all meaningful relationships for him, as well as made feeling love and functioning as an emotionally stable and consistent person, a real hardship and challenge for him. And this inability to feel loved and cared for etc. made being a parent, quite simply, impractical. He needed therapy, and its a shame he died before ever receiving real therapy because it would’ve been interesting to see how John might have come to terms with really acknowledging his failures as a parent, and because Julian might have gotten some real closure with his dad.

All in all, I think Phillip Larkin said it best

[wizkiddx]

the worst case scenario

okay so this is possibly part 1 of a v v angsty dad!tom fic!!

WARNING: the section under the cut of this is v v v dark with mentions of death and some graphic descriptions of blood etc - please please don't read if any of these things may affect you <3

the part above the cut (the keep reading bit) is completely fluffy (a bit of childbirth but not graphic) so you could read only that first bit as a stand alone if anybody wanted to

dad!tomholland x reader

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“Stop laughing at me!!!”  Y/n exclaimed in mock anger before bursting out laughing, knowing she did look pretty ridiculous. 

“I can’t help it you just…. You look like an elephant!” Tom cackled from his reclined position lying on the couch, whilst his 8 month pregnant fiancé struggled to get up from her seated position on the floor - where she had spent the last half an hour wrapping presents for her nephews birthday.

“You know a supportive soon to be father would’ve helped me up!” Replying with a scowl that didn’t last long, Y/n finally standing up took the three steps to the couch before uncerimoniously collapsing into it. 

Grinning with this absolute sparkle in his eye, Tom leant forward and slid up to Y/n to pull her into his side. His hand came to rest upon her massive bump - at this point it was almost a rule that if he were touching Y/n he also had to be touching the bump. Tom claimed it to be skin to skin contact and although Y/n were pretty sure that didn’t come into effect until after the baby was born, she wasn’t complaining either. 

“It’s a shame your stuck with me then huh?” He murmured into the top of Y/n’s head, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head while tracing meaningless patterns on her shirt over the bump. Tom was beyond excited to become a Dad, family had always meant everything to him growing up (and now). There was nothing he wanted more , therefore, to call them a family of three - or more accurately four, not forgetting Tess of course. 

“Oh how I regret ever taking up that extra shift at the club” She mused sarcastically, enjoying how he feigned offence in return.

 The way the two had met was so incredibly cliche that it was almost painful, whenever anyone asked how they met she always winced internally. But it was their truth, Y/n had been a caddy at the golf course Tom frequented with his brothers. The nature of his ‘reputation’ meant the caddies always had to sign NDA’s to be paired with Tom’s group and the chosen few were those personally recommended by the golf course. She’d always stuck out to him, mainly because she seemed to be biting her tongue as they worked their way round the course. Caddies, also by job description, were not to speak unless spoken to; to be polite and courteous but not chatty. So, given how professioial she was, had taken some convincing for Tom to drag it out why she looked in physical pain whenever they played the 13th hole.

~~

“Look somethings on your mind I can tell! If you hate me I can arrange another caddy I just -“ He followed her march to back from the hole toward the little buggy, ahead of his brothers and Dad who were making small talk from behind.

“FINE! Okay fine.” Reaching the end of her tether, Y/n snapped, whipping her body round to face him. “It’s your grip! On this hole especially you always play the driver with you pinky too far down the shaft, it’s why you always end up in the bunker on the 13th! It’s bloody infuriating because them I’m the one that has to clean the buggy you’ve trampled sand into!”

“Oh…. I-I … I wasn’t expecting that” Tom had spoken quietly, in an unfamiliar tone to Y/n. Over hours she’d spent on the course with them over the months, Y/n had gotten used to his storytelling voice when recounting an insane experience to his family that he’d had in the world of Hollywood; his grumpy voice when he played badly, which was often; and then his gloating voice - most definitely the worst and intolerable. This voice though, was different.  

“I-I’m so sorry I have no right, I just-“ She’d out her foot in it …. badly. The young actor was one of the most clubs most prestigious and valued members; and she’d just insulted him. Clearly, she was also about to be in search of another job. 

“No no I appreciate your tip… I didn’t even realise you play?” His gracious smile calmed her nerves a little, though Y/n still wrung her hands together as she replied.

“Well we aren’t supposed to talk about it but the club let us employees loose after hours… I practice quite a bit”

“Seeing as you think my game is so shitty, you fancy a round next time?”

~~

Flash forward 3 and half years and a proposal, they were now taking their next massive leaps in the world together. Bringing a whole new life into it. It was bloody terrifying, they both openly admitted. But it was also exciting, new, incredible and… and made them even closer. Now they had to be in each others lives forever, no escaping. 

“How many days left?” Craning her neck back on his shoulder so Y/n could meet his brown eyes, she knew the answer would be immediate. 

“15 till the due date and the app said they’re the size of a rhubarb but I don’t really know what that means.” He knew more about the pregnancy and birth than she did. He had about a dozen different apps on his phone (including one pointlessly comparing the size of the baby to carrots/ watermelons/ onions), had read 4 different books (which for Tom was the equivalent to reading Newton’s book ‘philisphica Mathematica’.)

Ever since she’d told him about the pregnancy Tom had excelled every expectation Y/n had of him… massively. Without even having a conversation surrounding it, he had explicitly cancelled all major work commitments within 2 months of the due date and until around a year after. He had flown back and fourth across the world so he could pop in and check on you. He’d also set his whole family on becoming your minders when he was away - Y/n wouldn’t have been able to go a day avoiding a Holland (or Osterfield) if she had tried. 

The pregnancy thus far hadn’t been the easiest though, hence why Y/n still appreciated to constant worrying texts and calls. During the first trimester the morning sickness had been literal hell; and then you’d had a little bit of a scare with pre-eclampsia during the second. It landed you a 3 day stay in hospital and a very very panicked Tom rushing back from New York on the first possible flight. 

So now? Y/n wanted the baby out. She wanted family life as parents. (At which point hopefully Tom would stop comparing the size of your child to an assortment of different fruit and veg)

“You know, you really are going to be the best dad in the world Thomas Stanely Holland.”

“And you Y/f/n y/m/n y/l/n are already a pretty impressive mum.”

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It was 3 o’clock the next morning when Y/n awoke with a sudden groan instinctively rubbing her stomach in an attempt to get them easing up. Now too familiar with Braxton-Hicks contractions, the weird cramping that waxes and wanes but never letting her get any rest - Y/n knew she was in for a long night. With a muted sigh she carefully lifted Tom’s arm off her side, cautious not to disturb him. The poor boy had been up most nights with her, just because baby wasn’t letting her sleep, it didn’t mean Tom wasn’t deserving of rest either. 

So making furtive movements at a snails pace, she attempted to tip toe out the room - yet as Tom had pointed out before, she looked almost like an elephant, so everything was relative. Surprisingly though, she was successful, escaping onto the soft cream carpet of their hallway before choosing to venture into the room opposite theirs. It had once been a spare room, though more correctly termed the ‘shit room’ because that’s where all the accumulated shit they got was thrown. Now however, Tom and his brothers had taken on the mammoth task of clearing it out and redecorating - creating the most beautiful nursery one could ever see. Complete with a rocking chair which Y/n made a beeline for, now allowing herself to audible groan at the tight sensation deep inside her. 

Normally they would ease after a half an hour or so, yet this time, after what was surely more like an hour and a half they started to…. ramp up. What was a tight pressure sensation quickly became one more forceful volatile and full of pain. She put it off for about 3 or 4 cycles of these, pursing her lips and breathing deeply as she tried to convince herself they’d just simply fizzle away. This couldn’t be the real thing could it? It was too soon - as Tom had said she wasn’t due for another 15 days. It wasn’t happening… was it?

The answer was pretty comprehensively and cohesively given when Y/n tried to stand up, in the hope of walking the ache off, she felt an incredibly tight crunch as her insides seemed to wring themselves together. Oh … and a surge of water soaked her pyjama bottoms. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCKKKK TOMMMM!! TOM-ah shit-  MY WATERS!!! TOOOMMMM”The pain had amped up to a very very impressive levels, forcing Y/n to clutch her sides as she kept bending and straightening back up… as if that would help. Her lonesome agony didn’t last long though, a flustered Tom hurtled in the room - his hair sticking up all over the place and although his eyes were puffy from sleep he still had them glued open impressively wide.

“No its-its too- its too early!” In pure disbelief, Tom shook his head staring across at her face, contorted in pain.

“Yeh because-“ She gulped and exhaled in as much of a controlled manner she could through pursed lips; before answering his stupid statement. “Because I can just HOLD IT IN FOR ANOTHER 2 WEEKS SHALL I?” It took a while for Tom to process, looking down at the puddle of clear fluid on the floor and damp patch on her plaid bottoms while it was Y/n’s turn to look upon his it utter disbelief at his stupidity. 

 “Oh shit shitshitshitshitshitshit!!!!” His words grew with increased volume and place whilst he stayed frozen, his arms reaching out lightly toward Y/n without touching her though. “What do we do?!”

He of course had revised repeatedly and extensively what he was supposed to do when this happened - yet in the moment all knowledge and planning evaporated from his mind. Now wasn’t the time for taking the mick of her terrified fiancé though, Y/n was too blinded by pain as she leaned on the dresser.

“Get the-ah FUCKING hell - phone we need to time them and phone the … the-MIDWIFE.” It was hard to direct a frantic and terrified man when one feels as though her insides are collapsing in on themselves. 

Tom gulped, nodding shakily, whilst trying to take deep breaths because although he was fucking terrified it wasn’t him that was giving birth. He had to step up now. 

It took barely 10 minutes from the midwife picking up to a frantic Tom for her to assess that they needed to get into the hospital asap. During the pregnancy, all of Tom’s rich friends had recommended paying for a private hospital like the ‘Portland hospital’. The idea was it was a much more luxurious and private experience - of course coming with a heavy price tag. For Tom money was not an issue, so he’d suggested to Y/n and met the strongest rejection of all his life. The NHS was by far the only choice in Y/n’s mind - of course it busier, a lot less serene and not as private; but if god forbid something did happen, that was where all the experts and resources were. The idea of being able to pay for better access to healthcare actually repulsed Y/n and everything she stood for… so in short Tom was met with a very blunt refusal. 

Once they arrived on the ward, all it took was one look at Y/n’s inflated belly and the way her body was squirming in the wheelchair Tom was pushing, whilst laden with the baby bags they’d had packed and prepared for weeks, for the pair to be rushed into a side room. After an intense 20 minutes of getting Y/n settled, getting her full medical history and inspection of her vagina the hmidwife’s head popped up from between her legs with a kind smile. She explained in a calming and gentle tone that Y/n was 5 cms dilated and had got to that point fast, yet now things looked to be slowing down a bit. With final words of advice of try to relax she left the pair to it. 

They both looked at each other, a matching expression of confusion and relative terror blatantly clear in both their eyes. It had them both burst out laughing, if Y/n then scowled at the pain that shot through her side.

“This is really happening huh?” Tom murmured as he rounded the bed to gently run his hands through her sticky hair.

“I don’t know unless you really do want me to postpone their arrival for a short while?” Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head, although not really able to surpress the chuckle at his finances humour - even if it was at his expense.

“Glad to see you can still be as sarcastic as ever.” He laughed but before she could reply another wave of contractions hit making her instead just scream - grabbing his hand so tightly Tom was certain a bone or two were crushed in the process. 

It was another hour or two of the same traumatic sight of watching the women he loved more than anything in the world be in such extreme pain. God knows how his appreciate for his mother grew in that moment - she had had four kids overall, two of them twins! Tom dared to think of the scenes in that room of twin brothers birth. Having to deal with both Sam and Harrys large heads…

Harrison had arrived in the meantime, he was to be the child’s godfather and Y/n was more than happy to have him there - even if it was more of a support to Tom than Y/n. Quite expectantly though, he was just as terrified and useless as Tom - so instead of having one idiot to deal with, the midwives now had double trouble of terrified men. 

And yet after another 1 hour or so Y/n was being told to make one final push. Baring down on the gas and air tube, Y/n squeezed her eyes shut together whilst simultaneously contracting every muscle in her body with what little energy she had left. Hearing Tom and Harrisons words of encouragement; the midwifes orders and her own long and continuous scream, Y/n pushed with all she had. It was excruciating and torturous yet she kept going until the most beautiful sound was the only thing left reverberating round the room. 

Her babies cry. 

Tom looked at the scene in awe, feeling an almost out of body experience as the midwife unfolded from her position leant over the bed looking up to Tom. 

“Do you want to cut the cord Dad?” Releasing a breathy laugh, tears collecting in his eyes he looked down at Y/n. She looked a mess - hair flying all over the place; sweaty sheen and a ruined look on her face; panting hard as she caught her breath. But to Tom? Never had he seen her look more beautiful, especially when she managed a small smile, nodding encouragingly at him. So he moved round to the end of the bed as the nurse motioned, while Harrison squeezed Y/n’s shoulder with the proudest look on his face. 

It was the first time Tom had ever seen his child. And really, seeing a wrinkly little pink thing covered in all sorts of gunge - it shouldn’t be such a magical moment. But here he was, a single tear escaping over his lower lashes at the sight of them wriggling about. The midwife gave him a second, before gently handing him the medical scissors and directing him as to what to do. Once done, the lady announced the room it was a beautiful baby girl.

The next hour or so was a bit of a blur, the whole situation felt extremely surreal to everyone - but perhaps most to Y/n. Although the baby was premature the doctors had checked and were confident was perfectly healthy, so after both Y/n and Tom having their turn holding her (Tom finally got his real skin to skin time) they brought in a little incubator where she could rest while Y/n was recovering. Due to her prematurity, as a safety net, the doctors did want to keep the baby girl in overnight for observation, which meant the whole party would be staying too. 

Y/n loved nothing more than watching Tom and Haz with their baby. The way they delicately cradled her in their strong arms and the way their eyes softened so inexplicably. Y/n swore that had she not just pushed a watermelon sized human out her vagina, the way Tom looked while holding their daughter would make her pregnant all over again.  

“I still can’t believe you two created a real life human.” Harrison mused while standing with the baby girl in his arms, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he watched her sleep soundly. 

“To be fair it was mainly Y/n” Tom laughed as he squeezed Y/n’s hand (wincing internally as it hurt his already injured hand - Y/n had an almost death grip)

“Oh no credit where credits due… he was involved for a whole 3 minutes or so.” Harrison snorted and Tom scowled at her, yet her cheeky if exhausted grin instantly erased any annoyance.

“Don’t make sexual jokes in front of our child!” He retorted, Harrison still laughing at his friend. Haz loved Y/n too - she made Tom a better version of himself. And now, she’d made him a dad. 

**triggering part starts here

After all the excitement of the early morning it was more than fair to say Y/n was shattered, Tom not doing much better. So after a little bit, Tom joined Y/n on the bed and they instantly fell asleep to the light beeping of their babies heart monitor. Harrison stayed in the arm chair in the corner of the room, wheeling the little incubator right in front of him to just stare at the little girl. He had been texting Tom’s family too, giving them details of when they’d be allowed to come and meet the little one, who had just woken up to all Tom’s frantic texts from the night before.

Eventually though he was ped ousnapt of his happy daze, looking over to the bed and seeing Tom groan as he shifted on the mattress that was technically only spacious enough for one.

“You good mate?” Harrison spoke in a low voice, keen not to disturb either the baby of Y/n - she had earned a bit of peace. Tom just mumbled in response, rubbing his eyes as he sat up before letting out a deeper groan.

“-hat the fuck” Tom lifted up the blanket covering them both as Harrison looked on inquisitively. But then Tom leapt off the bed, started violently shouting Y/n as he shook her in a look of desperation. It was violent and harsh, Harrison was horrified as he immediately stood up in an action to pull Tom off her. 

“Tom what are you-“

“Get help Haz.” Tom turned around to look at Haz, only at which point could the blonde haired boy make out why Tom looked so insane. Because his trousers, and the bedsheets that were now not hidden by the blankets, was covered in a red sticky substance. Jaw dropping, Haz slalomed round the incubator to stand at the foot of the bed. 

It honestly looked like a horror scene. Y/n’s lower half was completely saturated in a bright red liquid that slowly was creeping further and further through the sheets. Her face looked pale, Haz cursing himself for not noticing earlier and her breathing… it looked so slow it was barely noticeable. The silence was only endured for a few moments, before Tom turned back to violently shaking the dead weight below him yelling her name repeatedly and frantically. 

As soon as the alarm was raised more and more staff piled into the room, each one carrying a new level of importance and seniority - instantly taking control of the room and shouting orders. Tom had long since been pulled away from the bed by a nurse, who was trying to speak to him and calm him down, but was completely ignored as he focused on the scene over their shoulder.

“Looking like a primary PP bleed but she’s lost at least 3 pints already…. Somone bleep the aenestists and lets get moving to the OR please!.. We’ll need bloods crossmatch 5 units….”  

Tom heard to the controlled sense of urgency in the lead doctors voice and he felt as though his heart was being torn straight from his chest. Harrison took over from the nurse, half restraining - half hugging him as the nurse ushered them completely out the room.  Shouting over Tom’s desperate pleas to let the doctors do their thing. He fought hard against Harrison but ultimately his hold was enough to keep him back, the two watching from he corridor as Y/n’s bed was wheeled rapidly out the room - what seemed like at least 12 staff members bustling after it.

Harrison knew it was hopeless to try and talk to Tom, as he paced up and down the ‘relatives room’ the two had been confined to. They didn’t have a clue what was going on, no-one seemed to want to tell them - making the worst case option appear the most likeliest in Harrison’s head. A nurse had said the baby, as yet unnamed, had been taken down the neonatal unit so that it was one thing less for them to worry about ; but refused to say anything about Y/n, saying a doctor would come and explain soon. 

It must’ve been 20 mins, even if to the two men it felt like a lifetime, when a round and short, greying man with big black rimmed rectangular glasses entered the room. Tom was too in his own head to even notice, pacing up and down the room while constantly running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep his breath in regular time - even if his brain was on overdrive.  It took Harrison calling his name twice to make him snap out of it, looking up with desperate pleading eyes to notice the stout man, a sympathetic smile on his face. 

“Are you Mrs y/L/n’s husband?”

“Fiance”

“I’m Dr Webber the consultant gynaecologist,  shall we take a seat sir?” Tom stayed rigid, standing opposite him in an offensive manner.

“She’s dead isn’t she?” At Tom’s cold words, Haz’s breath halted in his chest. It had been what they’d both been thinking, of course, it was natural when you see someone with more blood out their body than inside it. The doctor seemed a little shocked at his frankness, pressing his lips together as he let out a sigh. 

“No sir she’s not but she is very very unwell. Please, let’s sit down so we can talk about it because I understand it’s a lot to take in.” It took a couple of movements of Tom stood frozen staring but Dr Webber held firm, waiting until Tom took a seat next to Haz before he moved - drawing a chair from across the room so he could face both men. 

“First off I’m sorry you were removed from the room and put in here for so long but these situations are incredibly hard and to get Y/n the best care we needed the whole room.”

“Doctor I just… I just need to know what’s going on.” He couldn’t deal with the state of unknowing, Tom was going insane, he didn’t care for the small talk. 

“Sorry right, so what we think happened was your fiancé developed a condition called ‘placental accreta’. In simple terms, a bit of the placenta is stuck in the uterus and causes bleeding.”

“That much bleeding?” Haz couldn’t help himself from butting in, he knew this wasn’t really his place, that he was just being there for Tom. But at the same time that was his godchilds mum, it mattered. 

“Honestly? Usually not, Y/n had very severe bleed… So she has been taken in for surgery, where the very talented surgeons are trying patch up the affected blood vessels. I’m afraid at this point that’s all I can really say.”

“So… she’s going to be okay?” It was desperate plea for something that, even if Tom wouldn’t admit, he didn’t really believe - it seemed as if none of the three in the room did. 

“It’s not that easy I’m afraid. Assuming the surgeons can stabilise the bleeding and fix it…. with blood loss like she has suffered we… we don’t know what the effects of that will be. We tried to prevent as much damage to her brain and body as possible with transfusing blood into her and it was good that she was in hospital so could get treatment almost immediately…. But I’m afraid it’s simply too early to say. The first hurdle is going to be getting her out of surgery safely, only then can we deal with whatever happens next.”

Tom had so many emotions flashing through his head. He knew the doctor was trying to go slow to make the information a little more digestible  but it was all so bloody incomprehensible. So when the greying man asked  both men if they had any questions, neither took up his offer. Surely they both would after hours of processing and analysing but for right now? They were stunned into silence. 

“Okay sir, now I hope you don’t mind me saying this but it really is important for you to hear. You are now a father, as Y/n is a mother. This situation is never easy but as a first time dad I need you to be aware that now your fiancé can’t be your only priority. We are all here to support you but please, just remember that.”

Harrison was so glad the doctor had said that, it was so completely true - yet Haz knew he didn’t have enough power to have said it to Tom. The whole thing was impossible and at the centre was an innocent, beautiful but totally dependant baby. 

“What happens now then?” Haz had to ask on behalf of his friend, who was now completely overwhelmed. Dr Webber sighed, leaning back and rubbing his knees before answering. 

“If the surgery is successful it’ll be at a best estimate two hours before we will have news for you , then she will be taken into intensive care where everything else would be assessed and further investigations would happen. You can both stay here or go get food, maybe go down and see the baby in the neonatal ICU? I personally promise that as soon as any of us get any news you will be the first to know.” 

He was met with the sort of silence that makes you shiver. Sighing heavily, the doctor rubbed his knees, apparently preparing to leave. “This possibly one of the worst case scenarios that could’ve happened but Y/n is in the best hands and we will do everything for her. If you do think of anything you want clarification on, grab one of the nurses and they’ll come and find me.”

And then he left. 

The room was deathly silent. Harrison couldn’t dare to look over at Tom - he knew what he would see and honestly seeing Tom like that would only make it worse. God knows how long they sat in those plastic lined, lightly padded hospital chairs. Both in silence. Just thinking… or more like worrying… or more like dreading. It was Tom who actually broke the silence first, his voice barely audible but still the meaning was crisp and clear. 

“I can’t do it Haz” For the first time since the doctor was with them, Harrison looked at Tom, catching him directly in the eye. That hurt… Tom’s eyes looked so, so… hopeless. He knew what his broken friend was saying, but honestly Haz didn’t want to hear it so he did not respond. That didn’t stop Tom though, he continued. “I can’t do it. … I-I can’t be a dad without her… I just can’t.”

What the hell was Harrison supposed to say? There wasn’t really a guidebook to this situation. He was clueless. So, cautiously Harrison just leaned over, wrapping his arms round Tom as he all but collapsed into his friends chest. Tom was sobbing harshly as Harrison looked up at the ageing ceiling tiles, trying to surpress his own emotions because now clearly wasn’t about him. 

“You can Tom… you have to.” His friend didn’t respond, well apart from harsh sobs that racked his frame. And so Harrison just let Tom cry, folded awkwardly and uncomfortably over the arm rest of the chairs, occasionally yelling into his chest at the unjustness of the situation. 

It wasn’t fair. But it had still happened. And there was still a baby girl by herself downstairs. 

//////

is this okay or too much? I won't write another part if generally people think its a bit too dark!!!!