#this is coming from someone who will never forgive my abusers or even have any sort of fully positive feelings towards them

[struggling-to-find-home]

Listen.

Look me in the metaphorical eyes and listen.

You do not need to forgive your abuser to heal.

Ypu do not need to confront your abuser to heal.

You do not need to let go of your emotions to heal.

Hell, you do not even need to have access to the direct memories of trauma in order to heal.

Healing is about YOU. It's about your feelings, your actions, your life. All of the consequences of abuse are woven into your life already; it doesn't matter what the abuser says or does, because healing from abuse is not about getting some sort of new and improved all-knowing attitude and a healthy relashionship with whoever hurt you. It's about taking those patterns which currently hurt you in their place and letting them go.

And if anyone tells you otherwise, fuck em.

[queers-gambit]

Two to Tango

prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.4k+

note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! it’s meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!

warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.

part one: God's Plan

"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"

You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"

"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"

He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."

"What do you want?"

"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.

You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"

He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"

"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.

"Oh, someone's touchy."

"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"

He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."

You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"

"He's falling apart."

"O...Kay?"

"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."

"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.

"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."

"So, he needs his mother?"

Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."

"I'm not laughing."

"He needs you."

"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."

"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."

You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"

"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."

"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.

"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "

"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"

Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."

"Sucks to suck."

"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"

"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."

"How is talking to the man you love - "

"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."

"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."

You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"

He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"

"To say... What?"

"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."

You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.

"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."

"Really?"

"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"

He shrugged, "Maybe..."

"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."

"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."

"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."

"He won't go."

You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."

Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"

"What?"

"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"

"It's not even seven in the morning!"

"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."

You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.

When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.

"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."

"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.

"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.

The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "

"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"

He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.

"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.

"Carmy, we need to talk."

"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.

"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "

"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."

"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."

"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"

"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "

"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."

"Carmy," you sighed patiently.

"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "

"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."

"Nah, I'm okay - "

"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."

"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."

"Calling me desperate?"

"I didn't mean any of it."

"A bitch?"

"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."

You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."

"I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."

"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.

"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."

"I know," he squeezed you tight.

"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.

"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."

"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."

"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."

"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."

He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."

"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.

"Move in with me - officially."

Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "

"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."

"Carmy."

He frowned, "I'm sorry."

"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"

He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."

You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."

"I'm fine - "

"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."

He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.

"Exactly why we're going back to yours."

Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"

You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"

You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."

He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.

"Okay?"

"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."

"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"

"I will be."

"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."

"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.

"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."

"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.

"Fair point - just one then - "

He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.

When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."

"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."

He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.

"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.

"We're talking it out."

He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."

"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"

He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"

"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."

Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.

When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.

"Why?" He whispered.

You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."

"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.

"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."

Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."

"It's okay, baby," you whispered.

"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"

"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"

He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.

You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.

"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."

You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.

"Why can't I get out?"

You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.

"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"

"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.

"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."

"Laid to rest."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"

"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."

"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."

"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.

When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.

"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."

"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."

He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.

"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.

"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.

"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"

"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"

"I don't want you t'clean after me."

"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"

"I feel better, yeah."

"Good."

"And I made up my mind."

"Hmm? About what?"

"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."

"Think you can handle that?"

He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."

You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."

"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.

True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.

You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.

Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.

You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.

They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.

You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.

Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.

And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[chiscaralight]

I saw on your Masterlist (I need to make one😭🤣) that no one has requested Star Rail from you, yet. So allow me to be the first. I don't really ask people to write requests for me, but 👀

Bondage and degrading/teasing praise with Aventurine. Creampie. Cumming inside someone who is all delicate and tied up for him would be a very intimate and deep experience for him, I feel. And whatever other kinks you want to put in.

💜 Hearts and flowers for you.

u guys dont understand how much i love seeing this username on this app. anything for u bae😖and take your time with the masterlist! i just wanted to have one cus I like keeping my work somewhere I don't have to search for it everytime lol. and here we go!

nsfw!aventurine x reader, creampie, reader is kinda overstimulated the entire time. emotional aven, they’re just soft and in love 😞 he cries too

you’re such a sight to behold. wrists bound up to the posts of the bed, completely at mercy to the man above you. the sweetest part is that you let him. you’re allowing him to have him like you like this. even as your eyes are closed and his lips drag slowly down between the valley of your breasts, over your belly button and stopping just above your dripping cunt, he still thinks you’re the most wonderful thing that’s happened to him.

he makes sure that you know, too. when he’s not using his tongue to abuse your pulsating hole, he uses it to spill every word of praise he knows. aventurines hands are tight against your thighs, holding them apart to give him just enough space to duck his head back down into your warmth. it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, and your sweet noises cause him to moan into you. it’s almost torture that you’re not able to touch him, but your mind is clouded by the pleasure he’s so ready to give you.

and he kisses up the same path with the same love he did the first time. his lips are soft against yours and your taste is still heavy. it’s not like you care, you’re just glad he’s this close again. you can feel his erection rubbing against your belly as his tongue slides over yours again. you pout as he pulls back, so he graces you with one final peck.

he’s drawing off the top of you so he can align himself with your slit. he’s calculated and slow with the way he pushes in. he doesn’t want to hurt you, he’d never forgive himself if he did in any capacity, even if it was just a mistake. your eyes open with a gasp and meet his. they’re watching you closely, so you smile. that beautiful smile that has him falling in love all over again.

you’re so beautiful in every way. his hand holds your face as he starts to move, and your voice is just as gorgeous as you call out his name. aventurine is pressing soft kisses against your shoulder as he rolls against you. but it’s not enough.

“aven, please-please. i wanna touch you.”

he groans. who is he to resist his darling like that? so he’s reaching up to let one of the ribbons slip. you’re so quick to pull your hand away from the frame and wrap around him; to draw him closer. if this was all he was going to give, you’re going to take it. you’re moving your face close to yours, and you can feel every breath. the heat from his mouth, the rising and falling of his chest. it’s so overwhelming, so perfect.

his hand is resting strongly on your thigh that’s settled on his waist. his grip is tightening now, and his breath is getting erratic and you can tell he’s about to cum. so with the space you have, you shift to press your lips against his. it’s an action he welcomes with open arms, and it sends that feeling straight down as his orgasm comes hard. he’s almost whining into your mouth as he ruts into you. he doesn’t stop, and you swear you can feel a certain wetness against your skin.

so you whisper for him to let your other arm go. he can’t even look up to you as he does. your second arm is stroking his hair. his cries are a little louder now, but he’s not sad. he’s happy, so happy it’s you. when he finally does pull back to see your face, your expression is so full of love that he starts to tear up again. this time he’s the one tightening his hold around you.

[askdiscordwhooves]

This update was drawn by me, @jitterbugjive

I want to address one thing that I KNOW some people are going to complain about because they've already complained about if it would happen, and that’s The Doctor and Derpy getting together in the end. I understand the concerns. This is in no way meant to say ‘your abusers will eventually change for the better if you just say the right things to them’. This isn’t that kind of story. These are special circumstances that DO NOT EXIST in real life where the abuser was under MAGICAL mind control. That’s not who he actually is and when he’s himself he’s not remotely an abuser. He is safe from having a relapse, the curse is gone and over with because the core Discord was killed while the fragment left over in their universe has been reformed.

 Real abusers are not under any kind of puppetry or mind control when they do what they do, and no not even getting drunk counts as this because when someone is an abusive drunk they’re still choosing to get drunk when they are well aware of what they do when under the influence. If The Doctor did any of this abuse on his own terms, I wouldn’t have let them get back together. I’m an abuse survivor, I know better than that. When you try to compare completely fantasy scenarios that can’t happen in real life to.. Well, real life, you’re kind of reaching at straws at that point. Besides, this relationship wasn’t automatically better just because he returned to normal. Both of them suffered damage and trauma and both needed to navigate around it to be able to trust one another again. If there’s any kind of comparison to make, it’d be more like a loved one suffering a psychotic episode and doing horrible things they’d never do in their right mind. And some people are able to understand and forgive, while others are not. The pain of having a psychotic episode and saying and doing things that hurt people is really hard to overcome, it’s hard to trust yourself and it can be hard to make amends. But a psychotic episode does not dictate who a person is. It just doesn’t. And that’s the closest thing to reality this story is. I tried to handle this as best I could, because in my line of work recovery is the most important thing and I understand that someone coming out of a bad episode needs support and compassion (Unless they’re a terrible person in general) and there have been extreme cases where perfectly good people end up going as far as murder- even murdering their own children, but their loved ones are able to reason that they were sick and they are going to suffer great pain upon realizing what they’d done, and they are going to seek help. Maybe you wouldn’t be able to forgive someone who did terrible things in a psychotic state, and that’s within your right, but it doesn’t mean people who can forgive are any less valid. Listen, if a husband can be capable of not blaming his wife for killing their kids in a psychotic state (a very real event that happened rather recently, simply google “wife psychosis news killed children husband forgives” and you’ll find it), it's perfectly reasonable that someone can forgive someone who was under magical mind control.

If you are in a physically abusive relationship, you need to get out of it. The likelihood of this person changing for the better is extremely low, and you can’t cling to the idea of the rare few people who manage to work through these kind of things. Those are very special circumstances and in my opinion if there’s a relapse into violence after making genuine efforts to change, that should be the end of it once and for all. It shouldn’t be happening to begin with, it should not be tolerated. You matter, you deserve to be treated with kindness and compassion. Never let anyone tell you or make you feel otherwise. Please take care of yourselves, and DO NOT use this story as a basis for how to manage your own relationships, no matter how much you might think you see yourselves in it. This is fiction, and the scenarios in this story do not happen in real life. If you can’t discern reality from fiction, that is all on you, not me.

[sugawarassoulmate]

not nut november - nov 04/nov 05

after the first few days, they were feeling great. then the weekend came.

tutor!akaashi & shitty bf!daishou

word count: 423 & 290

cw: fem!reader, bimbo!reader, unprotected sex, cheating/infidelity, choking, minors dni

tutor!akaashi

who even does studying on a saturday night? akaashi does, which means you have to too

you're in one of the study rooms at the campus library, which feels a little redundant since it's practically abandoned on a saturday night

"what act and scene is this line from?" akaashi asks, cooly. he's been quizzing you on king lear for the past three hours, making sure you knew could identify the passages for your midterm

"act three, scene two?" you guess but akaashi's eyes already tell you that you're wrong. "ugh, can we take a break, keiji? my brain is turning to mush!"

akaashi would argue that your brain was mush to begin with but there's no use continuing when you've already given up

there was one way he could motivate you to keep studying — it was for your own good really, you weren't smart enough to pass this exam just by winging it

but he remembers the bet he made with his friends earlier this week something about not having sex during the whole month. it was stupid but he knew he'd never hear the end of it from bokuto if he lost

akaashi supposes he could just eat you out while you study but nothing does the trick more than making you sit on his cock, making you read out his notes while you bounce in his lap...

it's not long before akaashi has you bent over the desk, skirt flipped up and panties pushed to the side. "come on, don't just think with your pussy, recite the line for me," he says, pulling you by the hair

"ahhh, 'when thou dost ask me blessing, i'll'—fuck, keiji!" you cry when he pulls out only to slam back into you.

a slap to your ass is what brings you back to reality. "'i'll...i'll kneel down and ask of thee forgiveness' uhhh, act five, scene three?" you answered, crying when akaashi's fingers circle your clit.

"look at that, she's finally using her little brain," akaashi coos, snapping his hips harder into you. "read the next one." he says, knowing this is the only way you'll pass

he can say it's for your benefit as much as he wants to but akaashi is just as guilty of thinking with his crotch, maybe even more so

akaashi only lets you cum when you've gone through all of the study guide and he rewards you by spilling his seed deep inside your womb and walking you to your dorm with his cum running down your leg

shitty bf!daishou

saturdays are meant for your girlfriend. taking her on dates and watching shows with her

but it's not saturday and you're not daishou's girlfriend, which is why he's technically not breaking any no nut november rules right now

his friends explicitly said that fucking your girl was off limits for the entire month

which is why he turned to you the first chance he got

"sugu!" the two of you barely made it past your door, with daishou pouncing on you the second he shut it behind him

now he's got you spread out on your floor, a hand wrapped around your throat

"shhh, i know, babe," he whispers, pace never letting up as he abuses your cunt. "you're gonna take all my cum this month, yeah? be my fuckin' cum dump?"

it's so sick and your heart breaks for mika, completely unaware that her boyfriend is balls deep in someone else—someone she calls a friend

but you nod anyway because for an entire month daishou's body will belong to you

mika will have to wonder about the faint smell of your perfume on his clothes, wondering why it smells so familiar

it's pathetic and cruel and so unlike you but it's what you want more than anything

"yes, yes, sugu! i want your cum," you gasp, nails running down his back "i'll take all of it, just give it to me, please!"

and daishou just loves the desperation, grunting a quick "that's my girl," before fucking you harder than ever

and as your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you feel the warmth of daishou's cum flooding your cunt, all that goes through your head is his voice saying "that's my girl," over and over

©sugawarassoulmate 2023 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[gravegroves]

Something I haven't seen in a lot of fics, but I wish I saw more of for Billy, is the scorched-earth reaction to being betrayed or feeling attacked.

Abuse survivors tend to go one of two ways when it comes to upsets in relationships:

One is overly forgiving, putting their own needs last, worried that they'll lose the other person if they push back or stand up for themself. They'll sacrifice their own comfort to avoid confrontation.

But the other one? (The one I'm 100% sure that Billy is) Is scorched earth, motherfucker. You betray his trust? He'll never forgive you. You apologize? It means nothing, because if you were really sorry you wouldn't have done it in the first place. You work on yourself and promise to never do it again? Good for you, now go do that for someone else, because you're never getting close to Billy again if he has anything to say about it.

How do I know Billy for sure is like this? Because I was like that for a long time and I needed to unlearn a lot of the unhealthy coping mechanisms that I used to deal with my anger and the way I reacted to people who let me down or triggered a response in me post-abusive situation.

I would essentially erase them from my life. You told someone else a piece of information I had revealed to you in confindence? Welcome to me never speaking another word to you ever again and pretending you don't exist in situations where I can't avoid you. You raise your voice at me? Welcome to me kicking you out of my house and never letting you within 10 feet of me ever again, even to apologise.

Because once you're out of that bad situation you can become hypervigilant about how people treat you and you promise yourself that you'll never be treated that way again. Problem is you don't have a good gauge on what is and what isn't an attack on you, so you often just go ham on people who are genuinely making mistakes. I lost out on a job opportunity once because the person who I was doing volunteer work for wrote me an email that was pretty rude in which he tried to rush me. My reaction? To immediately tell him to go fuck himself before walking out of the office and never returning.

I had to learn what things were healthy to react to and to what extent, because in the beginning, anything that caused a spike of adrenalin was taken as an attack and so I defended myself in any way I could, be that verbally, with evasive manoeuvres or even physically, once.

Just, yeah. Billy who is so hypervigilant about how he's being treated that he's fucking up his life and relationships because of it and maybe Steve who fucked up and is the only person stubborn enough to claw his way back into Billy's life and maybe Billy, for the first time, lets someone try to prove him wrong.

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fear Of The Known

Lucifer x Fem!Angel!Reader

|Chapter One|

Warning: Angst, No Comfort

Y/n was a young woman, destined to work close with the higher ups of Heaven, due to the gift she was given. God chose her to be the angel who would prophesy the future.

The symbol of a bright shining star on her forehead acted as a third eye. It would be what aids her as she looks into the future. And for the longest time, the future seemed bright.

Although, the future was not just one straight line. There were many pathways that could be opened by the smallest of acts.

But from how well everything was managed in Heaven, the best future possible, seemed as if the only real future ahead.

No worries, no danger, nothing to disrupt the heavenly balance. Yes, it was all smooth sailing ahead.

Y/n loved her job, and found great joy in telling others of the wonderful future that lies ahead for everyone. However, there would come a day, where the future was changed for the worst.

And it all started with one man...

Lucifer was one of God's favorite angels. He was bright, creative, brilliant. Though, he was a bit of a trouble maker, and would often drag his brothers into joining his mischievous acts.

Well, perhaps mischief wasn't the best way to describe it. Curiosity, was a better way of putting it. But even then, that curiosity would lead him to trouble.

It was a good thing God was so forgiving of Lucifer.

Even Y/n couldn't stay mad at him whenever he got her involved, asking her to use her future vision to see how his actions would effect something or someone.

And every time she'd say-

"My power is not to be abused, Lucifer."

As disappointed as he always was whenever she refused to indulge him, he'd never force her to do something she didn't want to. But boy, was he persistent.

Eventually, his curiosity rubbed off on Y/n. And she took a small peak into Lucifer's future. As she suspected, Lucifer would live happily and sharing his creativity with all of Heaven to enjoy.

Yes. Another wonderful future for all.

But then, another path was opened to her eyes. What she saw, concerned her.

Heaven was in chaos, and Lucifer was at the center of it all.

Y/n didn't dare look any further than that. And she would not say a word about this to Lucifer either. She had a feeling it would have negatively affected him.

However, she couldn't keep this to herself. She needed to tell God about the future she saw. It was the first time she had ever seen Heaven so...frazzled.

As if something terrible were about to happen.

The suspense of not knowing ate at her. If she were to tell God of such a future, she would need to know exactly why and how it would happen. And so, she looked again.

There Lucifer was again. He looked so angry, but so sad at the same time. And there was someone else with him. A tall and beautiful woman with long blonde hair. Lucifer held an arm out protectively in front of her as he yelled something.

He looked injured. Blood stained his beautiful face, as well as his robes. Even his wings were damaged.

Ahead of Lucifer was Michael. Sword in hand, the blade pointing towards Lucifer. He looked a bit roughed up as well. Had they been fighting? Why would they ever fight?

Chains were thrown around Lucifer and the woman he was with, and then, there was a vision of Lucifer and that same woman inside of Heaven's courtroom. Words were being yelled back and forth from Lucifer and the head Seraphim, Sera.

But Joel would have the final word.

There was a look of panic on Lucifer's face. The chains that bind him disappeared and the ground beneath them gave in. With quick thinking, Lucifer held onto that woman tightly, shielding her with his wings.

And just like that, the both fell.

Y/n gasped sharply as the vision faded.

"Lucifer...Lucifer falls from Heaven."

Y/n kept that terrible vision to herself for many years to come. The only reason she refused to tell anyone, is because she couldn't see any possible reason for Lucifer to fall from Heaven.

Lucifer would never do anything to put Heaven at risk, let alone cause for Michael to draw his sword at him.

There was no way Lucifer would do such a thing.

Y/n gazed out, watching Lucifer from a far. He was speaking to God, looking as carefree as usual. It was then he noticed her, he waved his hand. Y/n smiled weakly and waves back.

Lucifer excused himself from God and made his way over to her. "Hey Y/n, I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh? About what?" She asks curiously. Lucifer looks around before taking Y/n's hand and leading her away somewhere more private. Once Lucifer was sure they were alone, he excitedly shared the news to her.

"So, we all know that Heaven is great and will continue to be great for like, the rest of forever, right? But what if it could be even better?" Y/n looks a little confused. "What do you mean?" She asks.

"I've been thinking of some ideas to really give Heaven some...sparkle!" Lucifer says with jazz hands. "I wanted you to be the first to hear about it before I bring it up at the meeting first thing tomorrow morning."

Y/n couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. Whatever he had planned, he sure seemed passionate about it. And so, Y/n listen to him explain his ideas.

Everything he spoke about all sounded so wonderful, magnificent even. And just the way he talked about it, Y/n could see his eyes light up with every word that left him. Passionate didn't even begin to describe it. These weren't just ideas.

These were his dreams.

"I really have a feeling this will change Heaven forever! What do you think?" Asked Lucifer after he finished.

"Lucifer, I think you should do it. Clearly this is something you really want, and I can tell it means a lot to you. I wish you luck." Y/n tells him. Lucifer smiles brightly before hugging her tight.

"Thank you, Y/n!"

"Of course, Lucifer. I can't wait to hear what they have to say."

The two parted, and Lucifer suddenly had a mischievous look on his face. "You know, you could always tell me what they'll say."

"Lucifer." Y/n says sternly.

Lucifer sighs dramatically. "I know, I know. But I just can't wait!" Y/n giggles. "Well, just try and wait a little longer. They're going to love it."

"I sure hope so." Said Lucifer with a small smile.

Curiosity could be a very dangerous thing indeed. The vision Y/n had to Lucifer's future, or at least one of them, should have been enough to keep her from looking too long of what fate has to offer. And yet, something compelled her to look again.

The once bright future ahead, had changed.

It wasn't another pathway, but the one that was most guaranteed.

And it was horrible...

Lucifer will fall from Heaven, but not before he shares his ideas with the angels. Not before he meets with Lilith, and the two create sin and unleash it onto the world that the angels worked so hard to protect.

Y/n could not allow this future come to pass. She could not allow Lucifer to be casted into eternal damnation. Not if there was something she could do about it.

She knew had to warn Lucifer. But telling him of the future she saw might have crushed him and his dreams. And she didn't want to be the reason he stopped dreaming.

But nonetheless, she still had to do something to stop that future from occurring.

Y/n caught Lucifer the morning he was to call for that meeting.

"Lucifer, may I have a word with you?" She asks. Lucifer smiles. "Sure, but be quick, I have to get going soon."

Y/n tried to appear as calm as she could. "I know you're very excited about this meeting, Lucifer."

"I'm more than excited!" Lucifer says cheerfully. "If I can convince everyone to get on board with my plan, Heaven and Earth as we know it will change forever!"

Y/n winces. "That's what I wanted to talk you about." Lucifer looked confused, but listened anyway. "You know how the Seraphims can be. They're so...strict, you know?"

Lucifer sighs. "Yeah, talk about a bunch of sticks in the mud." He smirks. Y/n laughs awkwardly. "Yes well...Maybe you should cancel this meeting. Or! A-At least, postpone it?"

Lucifer only grows more confused by this, but he shrugs with a carefree grin. "Y/n, trust me. I can get on their good sides. You know how charming and loveable I am. There's nothing to worry about." He says before starting off.

Panic started to rise in Y/n. This wasn't good. Lucifer could not go to that meeting. If he does, Heaven will soon be thrown into total chaos.

"I'll let you know how it goes, ok?" Lucifer unfolds his wings to take flight.

Y/n grabs his wrist, stopping him. "You can't!"

Lucifer gives her a bewildered look. "Y/n?"

"You can't go to that meeting Lucifer!"

Lucifer furrows his brows. "Why have you had a sudden change of heart? Yesterday you were just as excited for this as I was. I thought you liked my ideas."

"I-I do! It's just..." Y/n trailed off, unable to think of anything to say. "Y/n." Y/n looked at Lucifer, his expression now one of concern. "Did you see something? Does something go wrong?"

"Lucifer...You just can't go." Y/n says weakly. "They won't understand. I just...I just don't want you to be hurt by what they might say."

Lucifer took Y/n's hand. "Was that really what you saw? They won't listen?" He asks. Y/n nods her head, tears in her eyes. She hated this. She hated having to be the one that tells him this.

But it had to be said. Lucifer might have been hurt by this, but at least he'd still be here in Heaven.

"Then...It looks like I'll have to change their minds!"

Y/n's heart sank. "You're still going? Why? I just told you they-"

"I know. But Y/n, I can't let this opportunity pass. I believe in my dream, I know it can work. I'll just have to really knock their socks off! And make a outstanding impression!" Lucifer says determinedly.

"Lucifer..."

"It'll work, trust me. Those Seraphims won't know what hit them!"

"Lucifer."

"You can even come with me! They're bound to listen if I have someone else who believes in me!"

"Lucifer I can't!" Y/n says firmly. "I saw the future that lies ahead, I know what the outcome will be! It's certain that they will not listen to you! It doesn't matter what you say or do, it won't work Lucifer!"

Lucifer was slightly taken back by your words. Y/n's heart snapped in two at the look on his face. One of sadness, betrayal...

It had to be said.

"I'm sorry Lucifer." Y/n sighs. "Please, please don't go. Just-"

"No."

"Lucifer!"

"I'm going to that meeting, Y/n. I'm going to tell them what I have planned. Because I believe in my dream. I just thought you would too..." Lucifer lets go of her hand before taking flight.

"Lucifer! Wait!" Y/n called after him. Lucifer ignored her as he grew further and further out of sight. "Lucifer!" Tears began to drip down her cheeks.

Y/n had failed to change that horrible future. Lucifer would fall from Heaven, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"I'm sorry..."

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Cigarette Burns

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 3.8K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: near-death experience, trauma from abusive mother, DESCRIPTION OF BURNS

—————

When my time comes around. Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down

The cold is an enemy to fear more than infected or regular people in this kind of world. You could be in a remote area with no one for hundreds of miles, but the cold is always there. It doesn’t hide or wait for you to call it out, it attacks harshly and violently with no forgiveness. If you don’t have warm enough clothes, shelter, or fire you’re not surviving the night out with Mother Nature. It feels like thousands of needles stabbing into your skin repeatedly, or a numbing sensation that fills your body with panic when you can’t move your limbs. The cold could feel like you are melting it scorching your skin as it brings you to the sweet release of death. Cold isn’t a friend to any it went for everyone and everything, and only walked away knowing that you weren’t going to get back up.

Kansas winters were easier than Wyoming. Having a building to hide and be sheltered from, though run down with limited heat. You became resourceful, the puddle of blankets pushed right next to the heater waiting for the sputters and rattling as the heat flowed through it to get you through the night. The heater right beside the window allows you to gaze up into the sky connecting the stars to create paintings in the inky darkness. You are surprised how much was coming from the heater. It was never on for this long maybe a minute max but it was flowing steadily through.

“Honey?” The airiness of your mother’s voice threw you in a whirlwind not expecting the softness coming from the usual snarl and venom. “Come to bed with Mommy. Aren’t you so cold?” She stands at the doorway to her room holding her hand out as you push yourself up from the makeshift bed of blankets.

“But you don’t like me in your room.” You whisper out to her. It was one of the many things she ordered you to never touch. But her room was the biggest, she didn’t want you stealing anything as she puts it. She gives a soft smile still holding out her hand.

“Come on…daddy and I are waiting for you.” She says and you freeze. Your dad? But you never knew him, he left long before you were even born. A thing she constantly reminds and blames you for.

Ruining my fucking life….I should never have slept with that bastard…should have gotten rid of you the second I found out I was pregnant….bastard child along with a bastard father.

You always wondered what he’d be like, probably kind and strong, someone who would wipe your tears away when you were sad and make you smile from the jokes he would tell. To protect you from your bullies…to keep you safe from your mother. You wished he stayed so he’d take you away and it would be the two of you. But you never expressed those things. You tried asking about your father when you were very young but it only led to her screaming at you, how you were an ungrateful brat, after everything she’s done you wanted to think about being with your father. The guilt she held over your head like a toy twisting and molding it to have her be the perfect mother and you the horrible daughter.

Maybe you are a bad daughter…

Your father didn’t want you and she could have abandoned you too but didn’t. Was it love? You don’t think you knew what love is, whether platonically or romantically so those thoughts died. The idea of a father seemed like a fading thought, the idea seemed unrealistic like it was impossible to exist. Staring at the bedroom door that held your mother…and father waiting for you. To protect you…to love you.

“Come on kid!” A voice yells and your eyes snap open seeing Joel above you. Your body instantly shakes and you feel so cold and the striking pain in your shoulder and neck. It isn’t just the lack of body temperature that is painful each shiver and quake causes your body to ache and that produces more pain in your shoulder. Everything is fuzzy and dim your head feels like a dead weight as it almost lolls back if the man didn’t grab your neck to keep you stable. “Keep your eyes open. You’re alright,” He says before he yells over his shoulder, “Ellie where are those damn blankets!”

“I got them!” A young voice yells out and you see the girl holding a crap ton of blankets that she could barely see where she is walking. Another large shiver racks through your body an instinctive groan of pain as Joel looks over seeing your outerwear is off, your coat, socks, and boots are soaked in snow. The single layer of the long-sleeve shirt was still bleeding heavily and you weren’t even wearing gloves. Your fingers and parts of your face were bright red but he was glad to not see any signs of frostbite but mild symptoms of frostnip. The thick line across your throat from the cable made the flesh raw and irritated. He felt cemented in place trying to think of the next best step but he could only see his little girl in his arms when he had to carry you inside when you passed out from the pain and cold.

“Joel move, find the suture kit, and then get something warm for her drink. Tommy washcloths and gets some wood to start a fire. Ellie watch him.” Maria moves the older man aside before giving her son to the younger girl as she takes over the survival and motherly instincts coming out taking complete control of the situation. Your body practically vibrates from the cold and Maria moves closer you try to pull away but your shoulder makes you wince.

“You’re alright I need to take off your shirt so we can check your wounds. You have something under this?” Her voice is warm and comforting and she could see fear in your eyes surprising her used to sharp and cold ones. After gaining more sense of consciousness and understanding of the situation you were in you nod and she helps you sit up the blankets covering part of your stomach and your legs. Tommy returns with the washcloths and Joel with the suture kit before they return to their second task. Her hands move to your shirt and you stiffen and she waits noticing the uneven rhythm of your breathing before helping take off your shirt. Left in a slightly bloody tank top the shirt now clutched between your hands as you hear Maria’s sharp inhale. The noise drew the attention of the two adults just finishing their duties and the young girl.

Ellie had entered the kitchen with the baby to keep their view away from that finding the man standing there frozen unsure what to make, you couldn’t have coffee it could mess with your heart, and alcohol was out of the question. Joel had seen your aversion to the amber liquid. He hadn’t noticed the tightness in his chest and the ringing in his ears until Ellie grabbed his arm pulling him out of his state of panic.

“Joel..” The girl pulls him from his thoughts as he looks at his surrogate daughter, “You alright?” He wasn’t sure where this sudden state of panic came from. He had watched you ride out after one of the horses, himself and Tommy following after entering the storm urgency in them knowing you had no idea what was out there and you were defenseless. They had heard the large bang that sent fear through both brothers before the horses appeared without the rider. Joel headed off where they came from while Tommy wrangled the creatures. He had arrived just before it was too late seeing you being choked by a raider quickly shooting the one that was suffocating you seeing the damage you committed to the other raider. You had almost attacked him the fear and adrenaline probably overdosing your veins seeing the cold affecting you and the speckles of blood on your face.

It was that same fear in your eyes that he’d seen before. The years ago when Ellie had been kidnapped he was too late to rescue her from losing her innocence as she killed her captor, but the same fear that night all those years ago as his little girl clutched his arms as the life faded from her. He saw that same fear in your eyes and it sent him into a panic like he was reliving a horrid memory where he just kept failing. The nightmares he couldn’t remember when he woke up though he didn’t have them as often but when you came into his life they seemed to return. You are harsher and ruthless, everything he was during the beginning of the end of the world but you were only a kid. Tainted with the basics of childhood and thrust into the hate and death of the world. There are many things he wanted to know; how did you end up in Wyoming from Kansas, did you lose your parents during your travels, he wanted to know everything that there was about you. This draw and connection he didn’t think he’d feel. You are blunt, crude, aggressive, and an annoyance to him but here he stood panicking over you.

Why?

“I don’t think we have anything…to um..drink.” He says forcing himself to take a shaky inhale to calm his rapid heartbeat. Ellie seems to sense the panic and see the softness in the man’s eyes. Despite it being about a year in Jackson Joel was still a recluse, sure he helped around the community being a contractor in his past but he wasn’t one to make friends. He spoke in short phrases, grunts, and nods when people talked to him. It reminded her of someone she knew. He only really cracked a smile or told those dumb jokes around his brother or Ellie, and sometimes Maria. But you are here and she saw the softness as he held you in his arms bringing you inside or when he spoke to you before he was sent off into the kitchen. Ellie moves through the kitchen opening a cabinet reaching into the far back feeling the bag of treats she has hidden pulling out the bag of chocolatey goodness then to a fridge pulling out some milk. She puts the objects in Joel’s hands as he looks at them confused.

Ellie points at the chocolate and the milk, “Put that in there and heat it up, it’s good. It’s called-” “I know what hot chocolate is.” Joel grunts surprised to see the candy it looks handmade as he gets to work. He remembers a time when he made these during Christmas with small marshmallows and using candy canes to stir, even on rainy days watching a movie, or during sick days knowing they always warmed up Sarah making her feel better from whatever illness was affecting her. It was domestic and normal standing over the stove watching the milk heat up as he stirred the broken pieces of chocolate to melt once warm enough pouring it into a mug. He enters the room with the younger girl and his nephew and hears Maria’s sudden inhale and panic rises in him.

“What is it?” Tommy asks heading towards his wife stopping and his eyes widen taken over by shock. Joel was more panicked and Ellie was curious about what was going on as she and Joel took in what was shocking Maria and Tommy. They all noticed the scars that litter your arms, they expected something from someone who protected themselves out in this fucked up world. But they were crude the scars probably worse than the injury with the suture work you likely performed on yourself, but that wasn’t the scar and injury that had caught Maria’s attention and soon drew all theirs as Ellie tried understanding what a group of scars on your arms were.

“What is that?” Ellie questions the dot-shaped scars and Joel feels a sickness fill his stomach, “Are those burns?” She says that the adults in the room who did live in a normal world at one point recognize the scars that could only be caused by an object that was used by frequently stressed-filled parents with sticks of nicotine.

“Ellie take Liam upstairs. Now.” Joel’s voice is harsh and the teen tries to protest but with the look Joel gives her she doesn’t dare to defy taking the young baby upstairs the door to her room closing. Tommy stands up holding a fist to his mouth trying to hold in his rage.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Tommy spits the anger thick in his voice “Tommy.” Joel gives a warning tone to his younger brother.

“It’s fucking cigarette burns Joel. Christ,” Tommy wipes his hands down his face, “Those have to be years old.” You frown at Tommy's pacing vibrating with frustration and rage. The younger Miller seems to have noticed your look bending down to your level, “I’m not mad at you kid it’s just…you didn’t deserve this whoever did this to you.” You look away from the male using part of the shirt to cover your arms the small burns covered your forearms but the damage was already done they had seen it. Maria starts grabbing the needle and thread but you try stopping her.

“I can do it,” You look ashamed seeing their pity in their faces, “I don’t need your help.” Maria shakes her head.

“Just let me do this for you or we’re getting the doctor.” She places the final offer but you’re trying to pull your shirt back on biting your lip to stop the groan of pain and the once-clotted blood begins free-flowing. Joel curses grabbing one of the washcloths and presses it to your shoulder.

“Stop it! I don’t need your help!” You yell trying to pull away but it only creates more pain for you. “Stop it kid. You can’t see the full extension of it and your previous work isn’t a good show of trust,” Joel says and you glare up at him.

“Please kid, you’ve been bleeding for a while.” Tommy pleads and the rational side that wishes to live wins out but the more pissed off side doesn’t go down easy.

“I don’t want you here.” You say and Tommy sighs but if that was what got you to comply he gets up heading towards the stairs. You look over at Joel who hasn’t moved, “You too. I don’t fucking need you, Joel.” You hiss and for a second you feel guilty seeing his concern reveal slight hurt before it’s quickly covered by the mean expression constantly on his face. Joel nods stiffly moving out of the living room past his brother the door to his room slamming shut while Tommy makes his way to Ellie’s room to see his son.

The living room is quiet except for the occasional grunt of pain from you when the needle pierces through your skin and a murmur of apologies from Maria. Holding one of the washcloths to wipe away stray blood that spills Maria sits behind you as you sit sideways on the couch. Your gaze is drawn to the falling snow from the window in the living room counting the flakes that made contact with the glass.

“You know you should talk about it.” Maria speaks up and she watches your shoulders stiffen at her words before she continues, “You had us worried when Tommy and Joel watched you rush after that horse.” It’s quiet and she isn’t even sure if you heard what she said.

“We only want what’s best for you and seeing these kinds of injuries on your body. I worry Tommy worries, Ellie worries, even Joel. Especially Joel.” She says and a mixture of a scoff and laugh comes from you.

“What do you know what’s best for me…you’ve kept me here for your safety.” You say, “If you wanted to you could have killed me already so no one would find this place.” It was true if this had been any situation and you had stumbled upon them you would have been six feet under by now, but they met you, they came to the cabin, they decided to bring you back and help you. You could have bled out in that cabin if they had left when you told them to.

“And we didn’t because we are trying to bring back a sense of normalcy here. If we just killed people left and right we would be no better than those raiders after you,” Maria says and you hiss slightly from the needle entering your flesh. “In case you hadn’t noticed everyone in this building cares about you. And no matter how much you curse or say you don’t need our help. Deep down there’s a part of you that wants to let us in to ask for help.”

Maria lets silence fill the two of you as she continues her sewing and you don’t seem to even flinch at the pain. “It’s my fault anyway.” You say and Maria glances over your shoulder seeing you grip the bloody washcloth between your hands.

“I got myself in that mess and I found out what happened….I fucked around and I found out.” Your voice was thick tracing each burn on your arms with your eyes each ranging from light scar tissue from how long it's been others just as old darken from how long the butt of the stick pressed into your flesh. The young screams still echo in your ears as your arm was held to the table when it first happened just to get hit for crying. You learned quickly to not cry when she gave you that punishment.

“And who said it was your fault cause those don’t look like just a one-time occurrence.” Maria presses wanting to hear a name or someone. She prays whoever did this was long dead or suffering a horrible life. You felt a tightness in your throat at the question. You can still smell the nicotine and liquor on her breath the harsh grip of her nails breaking the skin with her warnings.

“Tell anyone and you’re going to wish you were never born.”

She isn’t here she couldn’t do anything. As much as you knew she was long gone Kansas City was running wild with infected from what Ellie described in her journeys.

“My..my mom.” It was so quiet you are certain she didn’t hear you but she did. She pauses the needle held in her hand as she looks at the profile of you. “It wasn’t her fault. She acts out when she’s mad. We were low on ration cards and I had gotten in trouble with Fedra.” It was a ramble of excuses that Maria knew did excuse burning your child. Maria’s silence makes you stop.

“Just…don’t tell them. I can feel your pity eating away.” You say and the older woman frowns she does feel bad for you. No child should have ever been treated like that and she was certain some of these other injuries may have been the cause of your mother.

“And your father,” She finally speaks up as she ties off the last stitch moving to clean the rest of the blood with the cloth, “He didn’t try to stop her?”

“A man that I’ve never met can’t really help ya know.” You say dryly. You wish he was there. Maybe he would have stopped it all, taken you away, and been the dad you’ve only seen in stories and dreams. But he wasn’t. Did that make him worse than her, he left a woman pregnant in a world that was ending around you all. Wrapping your shoulder in the bandage and briefly covering your neck she pulls back beginning to collect the items for the suture kit and bloody washcloths.

“Thank you.” You say and Maria looks back seeing you still not facing her and a small grin grows on her face. It was progress, slow progress but progress. More than a one-sided conversation though not a lighthearted one and a ‘thank you’ not some nod or even forced. Genuine.

“Just be careful with your shoulder.” She says before she heads upstairs to collect her husband and son from the event-filled night. When both Miller brothers, Maria and Ellie return downstairs to head out but also check in on you just catching a glimpse of you retreating to your room. The living room was back in order the suture kit was all packed up the bloody washcloths and your shirt was thrown away. Maria reassured the three of them you were alright and Ellie was a bit upset wanting to see you but retreated back to her room to sleep. Joel looks over at the mug still full resting on the table his gesture of help is forgotten and it makes his chest ache slightly.

“She’s gonna be alright?” Tommy says while fixing his grip on his sleeping son, the three adults had seen the scars and burns, and how you acted to them and towards people explained a lot.

“It was a pretty deep cut and her neck was raw as hell but other than that she’s alright,” Maria explains but Joel could see she was hiding something. There was a look on her face something she knew but she didn’t tell him even Tommy.

“And the burns,” Tommy whispers not wanting to speak up on it around his son even though he was fast asleep and too young to remember. Joel watches Maria as she pauses before fixing her coat.

“She wouldn’t tell me how she got them.” Liar. He could spot the lie as clear as day. But why was she covering for you? Joel nods and with nothing more to say the small family of three left to return to their home as Joel moves to the living room. Your coat hung on the hooks and your shoes and socks were piled neatly in the corner despite him ripping them off you in a panic. It’s as if you were never injured and sewed back together on the couch. Your features for such a young girl held such tiredness and stress even as you bled out. No fear though. Not a moment where you were afraid of dying just wanting this moment of weakness to go. A weight in his gut from the circumstances of today, thousands of scenarios running through his head, what if he and Tommy were too late for the raiders? What if your injuries were too severe for them to help you?

Stop it, Joel.

He shakes his head looking at the couch and your words ring back at him,

“You too. I don’t fucking need you, Joel.”

Pulling back like he was burned he returns to his room pushing away the insecurities and questions. The still-filled mug remains on the table the only thing holding the memories of what occurred tonight.

[kyouka-supremacy]

The thing about how Atsushi deals with Akutagawa is. Atsushi has always been terrified of retailing against his oppressors: to him, his oppressors were always in positions of power that he found impossible to rebel against. Akutagawa, on the other hand, was the first person Atsushi met who was socially accepted to fight back against. Akutagawa was presented to him as the big bad guy, everyone's evil enemy. Atsushi's got personal beef with him for how he treated Kyouka (which is very important for Atsushi, because if he never had it within him to stand for himself, at least he can stand for others). The person Atsushi looks up to the most repeatedly and unapologetically mistreats Akutagawa. Then mistreating Akutagawa must be allowed, right?

It's truly remarkable how despite the guess one would take judging from their good side / evil side affilations, more often than not it's Atsushi going for Akutagawa's throat than the other way round. Sure, Akutagawa threatens to kill Atsushi all the time– but that's exactly the point‚ he never actually follows through‚ and his real actions actually end up telling us his intentions are quite the opposite (re: “I won't kill you today because you look miserable” *saves Atsushi's life* *saves Atsushi's life* *dies to save Atsushi's life*). On the contrary, Atsushi's ALWAYS trying to attack Akutagawa both verbally and physically. Remember that time in chapter 51 when Dazai was keeping them separate? Back then, Akutagawa very much wasn't the one actively trying to attack the other. Not to mention the “You fight 'cos you want to be feared– that's far more worthless in my book” and of course the “It's no wonder Dazai-san chose to abandon you and disappear”. There's even the “if a fight is what you want, then I'll take you on” like lmao, of course you will. The thing is, Atsushi has always found it socially acceptable to retail against, loathe, fight and hurt Akutagawa no-guilt-attached like he never had the chance to with any other abuser. Please keep in mind how thanks to Dead Apple we know that the only other time Atsushi ever fought back someone who was hurting him, it was a most instinctive and involuntary reaction that ended up with him killing them and which gave him several trauma and unresolved self-hatred and feeling of guilt for life.

But hurting Akutagawa, that's peer approved. And it sounds quite cruel, and Atsushi is a fundamentally selfish character, yet it must have come off as so refreshing and even liberating for him to finally have someone he can openly hate, someone he could drop the facade of the polite, harmless guy in front of. That's why I can actually find it believable that Atsushi would, very subconsciously, look forward to fight against Akutagawa; as a way to let off steam, you know? A chance to finally stop acting and start behaving like his true self, determined, brave, protective, a bit of a prick. Not to mention, fights against Akutagawa seemingly always end up as a self-esteem boosts for Atsushi in a way or the other. That's why I wonder: if Akutagawa is the only person Atsushi can be himself with, if he's the only one he can act natural around without feeling he has to put up a front for; what about when Atsushi will stop hating him? Which doesn't sound that unlikely, I mean, after chapter 88 and everything. I'm not saying he's going to forgive Akutagawa for everything he's ever done but like... The perception Atsushi has of him must have changed to an extent, his judgement shifted at least a tiny bit. Then, Atsushi will be left with only one person he can freely be himself with, and he doesn't even hate him that much anymore. Just thinking about that.

[bunnakit]

my stand in final thoughts, feelings, etc.

what an absolute ride of a show. what a series of ups and downs and downs and downs and up.

i think what i find so charming about this show is that it really exemplifies what it means to be human. each character was flawed in their own way and each made mistakes that at the end of the day were just human mistakes. no one felt like a mustache twirling villain but rather a flawed human being that got caught up in something bigger than themselves, or caught up in their own ego, hubris, etc.

in a show that was clearly framed to be about second chances i really did not expect the wide array of examples of different second chances in life - the obvious being joe and ming, but then there was joe and new!joe's mother, ming and his mother, tong and may, joe and sol, etc. almost everyone experienced a second chance of some kind with one another. almost all second chances worked out towards a positive outcome but i respect that some were neutral outcomes at best; a total reset. a second chance doesn't always mean total forgiveness and absolution but rather a new slate to try again and i really appreciate that MSI made it a point to showcase that.

i am also once again grateful that the show did not fall into the evil mother trope. i was gritting my teeth waiting to see what became of ming's mom and in the end both she and joe's mom were parents doing their best, wanting the best for their children, and stumbling along the way - another perfect example of humanity.

i couldn't even come to fully hate tong by the end. the industry inflated his ego, he felt indestructible, he was able to get anything he wanted with his connections, and he allowed that confidence to turn to hubris and got involved in something far bigger than himself. a scared, cornered beast will almost always lash out and at the end of the day tong was lashing out for any chance of survival. he needed a wake up call of catastrophic proportions to get his head on straight but throughout the show they did show us reminders of how much he loved may, little glimmers of who he was behind all of that, and by the end when he was able to find peace those traits shone through again.

and with ming i appreciated that he still felt like the same person. he was still an asshole, still rough around the edges, still who he was at the beginning of the show but his efforts were channeled elsewhere, his priorities changed, and he learned what he truly values out of life. joe didn't magically change ming, but he did alter his perspective and give him so much to consider.

i still cannot fathom the pain joe has to go through every day looking in the mirror and knowing he will never see his face looking back at him. the show teased little peeks of the affect this would have on his mental health and i wish it had maybe delved into that more but mental health is always a slippery slope.

for the grit and darkness of the show the ending felt a little too fairy tale for me but i was also kind of hoping joe didn't come back. i know, horrible of me, but if i was him? i don't think i would've come back. he had to be so, so tired and he'd been through so much, that part of me wanted to see that happen as a final nail in the coffin, a message that sometimes death comes for us no matter how hard we try to run from it, and sometimes death is a kindness at the end of a long and painful journey.

idk i'm also a slut for angst so ignore me.

i wasn't mad at the ending by any means, i enjoyed the little nods to potential side couples, i loved seeing things come full circle, loved joe's realization that while HE always saw himself as a stand in or someone overlooked everyone else remembers his past self fondly and he made an impression on them. in the end, so much of joe's self worth issues were his own insecurities exacerbated by ming's emotional abuse.

that being said, don't forget to tell people in your life how much they mean to you. it can mean a lot more to them than you can imagine.

definitely think MSI is my fav bl of 2024 so far, it was something unique and a little darker, more mature, all things i've been craving for a while.

[prodbymaui]

My Boy.

would it be a sin? if I can't help falling in love with you

PAIRING: lee donghyuck x fem reader

GENRE: the innocent sweet boy

WORD COUNT: 3.6k+ words

WARNINGS: explicit content, reader is older by 3 years, implied obsession, implied murder, mentioned physical abuse (not from haechan!)

SYNOPSIS: A series of failed relationships and you were this near of giving up on love. But then here comes little Donghyuck and his persistence. Maybe-- he was the one fated to you, after all.

A/N: forgive me for not writing a smooth transition from fluff to smut lmao. and this isn't beta-read so please just pretend you don't see grammatical errors and typos. fluff was just a poor attempt of hiding my true intentions for this fic, anyways lolol. enjoy reading! send your thoughts if you can, xoxo <3

LISTEN TO: Can't Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley (Haley Reinhart)

Lee Donghyuck, for everyone at the campus, is someone who embodies gracefulness, kindness and all the positive traits one could ever think of. Nobody would ever dare to say ill about him as it's disrespectful for the boy who had been nothing but gentle and polite to each he had encounter.

Lee Donghyuck, the ever so sweet boy who comes to anyone's aid no matter what's his relationship with them.

You're his friend? He'll help you!

A classmate? He's just one call away!

Oh, you're a stranger and someone he haven't met yet? How amazing it is that Donghyuck has a free time to lend you a hand and get to know you!

Men and women stares at him with adoration, even the professors and staffs couldn't resist falling in love with his charming personality-- he even earned the nickname 'Haechan' or 'Full Sun' as he brightens everyone's day with little to no effort. It would be a lie if none of the students admits their crush on the campus' sweetheart Lee Donghyuck.

Too bad for them as the lovely boy's hazel eyes are only set for one person. Someone who had been by his side ever since he was 5. Someone he admires and respects so much he wouldn't let anyone hurt nor even touch them. It's you. His noona.

Haechan was 15 when he confessed his undying love for you.

''These feelings.. they didn't grow inside me throughout the 10 years I've been with you, Noona. They had always been here, in my heart. It was just me who took a long time to realize I have been harboring romantic feelings for someone who clearly treats me as her brother. This love-- it's endless, limitless. It knows no boundaries. No matter who and whatever comes in my way, my love for you will never waver. Through the deathly drought, my love won't ever wither. Through the thundering storms, my heart stands sturdy for you to hold on. This love that I have for you, it is the kind of love that only gets stronger as time flies by. The kind of love that through life and death, you remain the queen of my heart. Ruling it as if you are its owner. Let me be the man who protects you from the harsh that is this world. Let me be the wall you can lean on and the blanket you seek for warmth and comfort. I hope you wouldn't treat me any less after this confession. Because if there's anything that I am afraid to lose in this world, it's you, noona.''

It's astonishing, how a 15 year old can say such words. You're not sure where and when he learned those kind of things but you, as early as you can, stomps on the flattering feeling brewing inside of you. The boy is so young, he still have so much ahead of him, so much of the future that awaits him. With the thought of not wanting to let the boy tie himself up quickly to someone he's most likely just infatuated-- that was the first and last time you've expected to reject the sweet boy of Ilsan.

Lee Donghyuck, the persistent boy that he is, surprises you with more than 3 confessions each month. You resist falling for the beautiful flowers sent to your house everyday. You withstand the painful urge of giving in to the delicious and adorable bento boxes that shows different images of cartoon characters such as cinnamoroll and my melody from sanrio.

But you're just a human being. One that is weak from such cute attempts to sway your heart, like love letters with pastel decorations on your mailbox. It was too late before you realized, the wall you've created to stop the romantic feelings from squeezing themselves in your heart had crumbled into pieces. Shooing away your so-called sisterly love to Donghyuck as it was quickly replaced with the one the male had confessed harboring for you.

6 years later, your sweet little boy turned into a man he promised to be. Protecting you from any harm even if you can do it yourself. I know Noona can handle it but I don't want you stressing over things like these, why not make use of these muscles, right? He says.

''That's really the Lee Haechan? The little boy who had a crush on you back in high school? That chubby choco ball little boy?! God, he grew up so well! If you didn't tell me any sooner, I might've mistaken him as someone our age.''

You scoff at Jennie's words, sending her your middle finger. ''Just tell me you were thinking of fucking my boyfriend until I told you he's mine.''

Jennie's laugh battles with the loud music of the club, hands clapping like a seal due to amusement. ''Fine, guilty as fuck.''

You don't mind her words. You've been Jennie's friend for a long time to know that she doesn't have any plans of actually bedding your boy. Plus she's dumbly in love with her fuck buddy, Lalisa. That itself tells a lot. And it's not like your lovely would agree fucking your best friend.

''Come to think of it-- none of your past relationships really worked, no? All of them either ran away or just completely disappeared,'' She giggles.

''Men are so fucking scared of independent and powerful women. Maybe it was fated from the start for you to end up with Donghyuck. From what I can see, he's really into you-- always ready to serve or some cliché shit like that. But it's cute. You and Donghyuck are adorable together. He's so much better than those douchebags, especially that fucking Kim Jongin.''

Right, the devil who's Kim Jongin if its physical form. He was someone you wished you didn't met, someone whom you hoped is currently suffering wherever he is right now. You remember it as clear as the skies. The way he was so sly slipping a pill in your cup, waiting for you to pass out as he was driven madly by his disgusting lust over your body. Fortunately, luck wasn't on his side at that time and you managed to call the one person you trust the most before your ex-boyfriend even do something horrible to your intoxicated, drugged self-- sans the bruises and wounds you received from fighting back.

Haechan came rushing to your house that night. This is where it gets blurry. All you could recall was Jongin dropping on the floor, laying on top of the pool of his own blood. Donghyuck carries you, passing through the police as he urges them to rush you to a hospital-- all the while reminding them that the offender is currently inside and he was lucky to save the both of you despite earning some injuries as well, although minors.

3 years since then, you are yet to say you feel safe. Not long after being jailed, Kim Jongin was reported to be missing in his cell and until now, no police is able to locate him. The trauma he brought you stirs the fear once again, but Donghyuck was there to remind you that he will never let Kim Jongin near you. He already hurt you once, he wouldn't give him a chance to do it again.

A voice snaps you out of your bubble. Jennie is nowhere to be seen, now replaced with a familiar man you swear you've seen before. ''You seem preoccupied, a penny for your thoughts?''

The man chuckles at your stunned reaction. ''Ah.. you don't remember me? That hurts a bit, ouch.'' He clenches his chest dramatically, there you gasp in realization, jerking upwards as you point at his figure. You know this guy!

''Oh? Are you finally remembering me? Just to be sure, it's me. Na Jaemin from the dance club in high school. You know? Your partner in every dance.. ?''

''Right! Right! Ah, Na Jaemin, I didn't recognized you! Take a seat. How are you doing?'' Jaemin's smile is so bright that you could feel yourself going blind.

''Doing fine, luckily. I'm taking up an engineering course, we've talked about that before right? Remember how you encourage me to go for it because I was so scared I won't make it? I was so bad at math that time.''

Laughing softly, you share the vivid memories you can recall from your high school days. Jaemin is a gentleman who doesn't hesitate to lend a hand at times you're having difficulties following the choreographies. And by how he entertains everyone in the club, treating the members snacks and drinks during break time-- It is safe to say he's one of those that you misses the most if not for college erasing your memories and replacing it stress.

The conversation fills with reminiscing about the past as if they're 15 years ago. Sharing a laughter after one mentions that one time you both got mental blocked during a performance causing the two of you to mess up, thankfully you work well enough you pull it off and make it seem like there was no mistake at all.

Just as Jaemin's eyes roams around the dance floor, his vision captures a sight of his drunken friend that clearly needs his help. Sighing, the man bids his goodbye to you. Not without getting your number and sharing his, of course. You'd love to hang out with the whole group again.

''What was that right there, huh?'' A grin shows itself on your face and sudden giddiness bubbles inside you as the playful tone rumbles against your ear, a pair of arms wrapping themselves around your waist.

''Nothing, just an old friend saying hi.''

''Is that so?''

''Uh-hm.''

One on the forehead, one on your cheeks and finally on the lips. Your heart soars as Donghyuck peppers your whole face with sweet pecks. As much as you are enjoying the drinks and foods, you'd rather spend the night in your shared bedroom with Haechan. Maybe cuddle and watch some movies together if one is not too tired.

Your boyfriend agrees at the suggestion, immediately zooming to your apartment after waving a goodbye to Jennie with Lisa in her embrace, obviously sucking a hickey on her neck. No one admits it but clearly, your best friend's fuck buddy also have the same feelings for her. She's just too much of a coward. You remind yourself to help her confess.

Reaching the comfort of your home, you stand before the mirror as you drink in your look, observing if you look presentable during your time at the club. It isn't long before someone sneaks up behind you, arms snaking around you once again as he buries his face on the crook of your neck. Sighing, you lean backwards to press yourself at him, satisfied at the feeling of his body heat warming you.

A kiss turns into twice, trice, until it doubles and doubles, eventually reaching up to the back of your ears. Kitten licking the outline, Donghyuck presses his lips against your ears as one of his palms travels to cup one of your breasts, eyes straight to the mirror-- watching every changes of your facial expression as he fondles your boob while sucking an area of your neck.

Your clothes are soon on the floor, courtesy of Haechan desperately yet slowly stripping them off of you, his touch lingering in each part of your body. A finger of his traces the line that is between your pussy cheeks, dipping a little only to retract as fast. His chest rumbles against your back when he chuckle, left hand settling on your throat comfortably as his thumb and forefinger forces you to face your reflection on the mirror.

''You're so pretty, noona. Can you open your legs for me?'' Nodding so pliantly, Donghyuck could feel his pants getting tighter each second that passes by.

Spreading your legs, you grip his arm to steady yourself as a digit of his pushes itself in your core, sliding so easily due to the wetness embarrassingly caused by Haechan's raspy voice whispering against your ears. Being knuckles deep inside you, the male curses under his breath as he controls himself from foregoing foreplay and straight fucking you against the mirror. Your warm and velvety walls are making it hard for him to prevent himself from doing so.

Soon after a couple of strokes, your hips jerks in little motions, whines slightly echoing the four walls of the bedroom. That was when Donghyuck decided to add another finger to increase the friction you're feeling, curling them upwards in an attempt to press the buttons that emits the sounds he loves so much he considers it as a music.

It should be somewhere around here...

''Ah, shit!''

There we go, he cockily smirks. Humming, Haechan continuously jabs the tip of his fingers to that certain spot, grinding his clothed dick on the crack of your ass to ease the throbbing pain between his legs. ''Fuck, Hyuck..'' Your whines encourage the male to scissor your insides, stretching your walls all the while making sure hit and reach every spot you couldn't explore with your own hands.

His tongue falls flat on your skin as he licks a stripe from your shoulders up to the back of your ears, the hand that was previously on your throat now settles on your boob, pinching the hard nub lightly as he stimulates further pleasure with it. Your legs folds a bit, going jelly but the sudden increase of the dizzying pleasure you're getting.

''Fuck, fuck, fuck!'' Hips moving to meet the palms of your boyfriend, Haechan didn't hesitate to add two more fingers. He's already sure you can take it, you've pushed much bigger things in your pussy. The pads of Donghyuck's hand comes in contact with your aching hard clit, forcing a yelp from your. Cruelly, your boyfriend laughs at your reaction before pressing harder on your button, making circles with it the same time as four of his fingers harshly plunges themselves in your soaking core.

Eyes landing on the mirror, it eventually reaches downwards where Donghyuck's wrist and your pelvis meets. Even from your position and blurry vision, you could the redness and puffiness your pussy had become, clit peeking between the cheeks. Haechan finds the need to balance your figure as you almost fall forward, eyes rolling to the back of your head when your mouth opens to a scream. There your forehead scrunches to the middle, body shivering in his hold as the surface of his hand soon greets the sticky and creamy substance that he loves so much.

Beaming in satisfaction, Haechan makes a show of licking your juices off his hands, sucking each fingers with a 'pop!' before humming. ''You're just so sweet.''

Donghyuck then lets your knees meet the carpet of the ground slowly, turning you around so you could face the bump that is hidden underneath the fabric of his pants. He can already see the drool escaping your lips. No words are needed for you to know what to do, you've done this a lot of time, enough to learn what satisfies your lovely boyfriend.

Contrary to the Donghyuck you've gotten used to, this man that stands before you embodies nothing similar to the sweetheart. This particular Donghyuck loves to slide his girthy cock inside of you with no warnings, gripping your hair in a fist as he mercilessly thrusts to that pleasuring walls that is your throat.

This particular Donghyuck gets off of watching you scrambling to pull yourself off of him to catch a breath, coughing out with saliva only to come back having your face pressed to his pelvis once again. Eyes shut close as you try to breathe within your nose and if you couldn't, resort to opening your eyes and presenting your best teary eyes to Haechan for him to spare you, let you take in some air for at least a few seconds.

''Ah.. that's a-- I made you cum but you couldn't even bring me near my release? Isn't that a bit unfair to me, noona?'' You know damn well he's just mocking you. There's no one Donghyuck can fool when it comes to your ability to make him cum. A mere sight of you, even if covered from head to toe, would be enough for him to pop a boner and shoot his cum out in the air.

Determined to repay your baby's kind gesture earlier, you stills in your position and gives him a signal. Donghyuck lets out profanities with that. You just fucking gave him a confirmation, a consent that you're letting him fuck your throat as if it's your pussy.

Lee Donghyuck did just that. Holding your face in place, fucking inside you deeper with each thrust until a groan escapes his lips, soon enough he was spurting out white thick substances in the alley of your burning throat.

The male wastes no time in carrying you to the bed, throwing you after ripping his clothes off of him. His tongue invades the insides of your mouth, exploring and devouring what you have to offer. As if running out of time, Haechan's hands grasps the back of your thighs and forces them up to get a clearer view of your pussy pulsating, hungry for his cock.

Who is Donghyuck to deprive his lovely noona from receiving a well deserved good fuck, right?

No more teasing and no more extra touches, the tip of Donghyuck's thick cock slowly sinks, the whole entirety of his length follows not long after. His mouth falls open at the heat that surrounds him, the ecstasy you brings shakes his sanity.

Unforgiving, the thrusts are. With his hands settling besides your head, Haechan looks down to watch where your hole swallows him hungrily and is forced to turn his eyes away in order to not cum that fast. Fuck, the squelching sounds that bounces across the bedroom is so obscene that Donghyuck could feel himself smiling in pride. He's doing this to his, noona. Him and not those bastards.

''Fuck! Y-you're so b-big! So good, baby-- ah, fuck!'' Your nails creates crescent moon shapes on his back as it digs due to the immense pleasure, head dipping further to the pillow underneath you.

Being able to hold you in his arms and have you screaming for him, Haechan did the best he can to prevent himself from giving in to tempting urge of releasing. Instead, he decides to chase yours. He rocks his hips in the way you had been begging him, faster and harder. Unhooking his hold, he brings your legs to rest on his shoulders, almost bending you in half. This enables his cock to reach deeper and you wails, feeling his tip right at your stomach.

Fucking you earnestly, Haechan quickens his pace where you couldn't keep up, reduced to a whimpering and crying mess as you beg him to send you off to your climax. He latches his wet lip around your nipples, there he sucks like a new born baby starving for its mama's milk. Prodding his tongue right at the middle of your nub and wiggles them, that and the continuous contact of his tip to your sweet spot are those that caused you to thrash violently in his hold.

Hands flying anywhere, in search of gripping anything. Your burning walls clenching around his shaft, it would be a crime for Donghyuck to not succumb to the euphoria that's literally waving at him and beckoning him to cum. With your sweet words and encouragements piercing his eardrums, your boyfriend cums three thrusts after you, each resulting a moan from him.

The high soon subsides and a chuckle instinctively comes from him when his eyes catches the sight of you sleeping peacefully beside him, snoring like a little baby. Well, you are. His baby, to be exact.

Stickiness from the mega mixture of sweat and cum covers most of your skin, he wouldn't want the both of you to have a skin rashes or whatever it is that you gets from having cum on your skin for too long. And aftercare is a must! So he forces himself out of the bed despite the aching muscles and cleans you up, carefully as to no wake you up from your deep slumber.

Minutes passing, you are now comfortably laying on the bed, clean and free from the germs. A soft smile dawns Haechan's features as he cards his hand through your hair endearingly, kissing your forehead. ''I can't believe you're mine, noona.'' Caressing your cheeks for the last time, he practically forces himself to stop and move on to what he planned to do which is to cook your some food. Usually after sex, you'll wake up after an hour or so because of hunger. It has been a routine for him to prepare you both some easy dishes.

He is about to head towards the door when your phone, placed on the bedside, rings. Striding to it, he taps once to see who dared to text his noona at this time. Don't they know that you are most likely sleeping during this hour and their text might wake you up? Nevermind, maybe it's Jennie.

Oh. It's him.

Hey, this is Jaemin! I was just thinking if you'd like to hang out on wednesday? Only if you're free, of course!

Na fucking Jaemin.

Donghyuck scoffs, tongue poking his cheeks as he smirks in disbelief.

3 years since then, he can't believe he's about to give Kim Jongin a fucking gravemate.

[lionlena]

Unforgivable mistake (JoelMillerxreader) Part 6

Summary: Reader is much younger than Joel and is in love with  him. One night, after arguing with Tess and getting drunk, Joel spends  the night with a reader, but in the morning he breaks her heart…  She  runs away from Boston hoping that she will never meet this cold bastard  again in her life. But almost six years later, she unexpectedly sees  Joel in Jackson. She decides to hide herself and her little secret from  this asshole.

Warnings: age gap (reader is about 28 years, Joel 58),  strong language, swearing, past trauma, bullying, attempted rape, memories of sexual abuse, unprotect p in v,  dom!Joel, Joel is asshole, ANGST, hurt, sadness and heartbreaking, sexual harassment, women abuse, violence, injury, sickness.

Part 6

"Mommy, you should kiss Joel."

You nearly dropped the laundry you were hanging outside when you heard what your toddler said. You looked at your son in shock.

"Where did that idea come from, honey?"

Teddy sighed and said, "Because Joel is sad and you always give me a kiss when I'm sad and that helps."

"Oh" was all you could say.

Joel had actually been sadder for the past few days. He was even more reticent and didn't even react to Ellie's taunts. You didn't know if it was because of your talk about forgiveness or the fact that Maria and Tommy were expecting a baby. Well, You thought that was good news, but did Joel was jealous? He had Teddy, after all. He got a second chance.

"Mommy."

You heard your son's impatient voice and realized that "Oh" wasn't considered a sufficient answer. You knelt down next to him and said, "I'm afraid it doesn't work on adults as it does on children. I think Joel might feel weird if I kissed him."

Teddy frowned. "Then hug him... You hugging Aunt Claudia when she's sad."

"You hugging him, and that's better than my hug."

Your son made a sad face, and you felt like you let him down. In his childhood mind, sometimes everything was so simple and you envied him that.

"You know what helps me when I'm sad?" The little boy looked at you curiously. "When you give me drawings and flowers. Maybe after I finish work at the stables, we can go to the meadow so you can pick flowers for Joel?"

"Okay, but if that doesn't help, promise me you'll hug him."

You sighed heavily and nodded your head.

At the stables, you were still thinking about what Teddy said. Maybe you should talk to Joel? He didn't really have anyone in Jackson except Tommy, Ellie, and Teddy... And you. He still had a strained relationship with his brother, and the children were hardly suitable for serious conversations. So everything was on you. And your two relationship has improved. When you saw him, you didn't just think about how badly he hurt you, but how he changed for the better.

You stopped brushing Jupiter for a moment and looked back to see your son, who was throwing straw into an empty stall. In fact, he lost most of the straw along the way, but he looked so cute. He wanted to help you, like his dad.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice that you were approaching to place where another horse had bitten Jupiter. The wound still hurt him, and though he was a nice horse, he reacted to pain like any other animal. He whinnied loudly and jumped up sharply. You managed to dodge the kick, but you staggered and stumbled. You hit your head on the post that was between the horse's boxes. It got dark before your eyes and the last thing you remember was your son's frightened scream.

*

Teddy knew he had to call for help. He ran out of the stable and began to run as fast as his little legs would allow him. However, he passed several people and did not stop. Even when someone tried to stop him. In his mind, only one person could save you.

"Joel!" he shouted as he saw a familiar figure.

Joel was just walking with Ellie to the dining room when he heard his son scream. He immediately turned around and knelt down to catch the kid who practically ran into him. He immediately noticed that the little boy was terrified.

"Teddy, what happened?"

He gently grabbed his shoulders and started looking for any injuries, but the baby boy seemed to be fine. Teddy struggled to catch his breath, tears streaming down his face.

"Mama," he finally choked out.

Joel was immediately overwhelmed by a wave of terror.

"What about mom?" He asked.

The boy barely spoke. "Ho… Horse... Kick" he said between sobs.

Joel didn't need any more. He looked at Ellie, who seemed as scared as Teddy.

"Stay with him. I'm running to her."

The girl nodded and grabbed the boy's hand as Joel ran to the stables.

*

When you woke up you felt a terrible headache. Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurred, but only one thing mattered to you. Your son.

"Teddy," you croaked.

You got up with difficulty. You felt like a newborn foal that couldn't catch its balance. You slowly took a step by step, sticking to the wall. As you were about to leave, Joel suddenly ran up to you. He grabbed your sides and held you tight.

"Y/N, what happened?"

You heard the worry in his voice.

"Jupiter got angry... I jumped back, but I think I hit my head on something hard... Where's Teddy?"

Joel stroked your cheek, then ran his hand over the back of your head and was relieved to see that there was no blood on his fingers.

"Teddy is with Ellie. He's fine. He's just scared."

As soon as you heard that, you felt your strength leave you. You stayed on your feet only because fear for your son was your motivation. Joel immediately lifted you up and said, "Okay. You need medical attention."

"No" you moaned and rested your head against his chest. "Just not Anderson."

Joel sighed. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Take me home and call Wanda. She used to be a nurse."

"Okay," he whispered and brushed his lips against your forehead, and you just closed your eyes.

*

An hour later you were in bed and listening to Wanda's instructions. Teddy was cuddling up to your side. He had stopped crying but was still very scared. Ellie was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at you with worried eyes. Joel stood next to Wanda and carefully listened to her.

"It's definitely a concussion. She should not move. Let her sleep a lot, rest, and drink plenty of water. Someone should stay with her overnight. If she starts vomiting, she may choke."

"I'm not going to vomit," you muttered. You were slightly annoyed that the woman was talking like you weren't in the room.

Joel just gave you an indulgent look and replied, "I'll keep an eye on her.”

When Wanda left, he came closer to you and stroked his son's head.

"Hey, 'bear cub', mum will be fine. Why don't you and Ellie go to the meadow and collect flowers for mommy?"

Teddy looked at you with those puppy eyes he inherited from his father.

"Will this help you, mommy?"

You nodded your head and he immediately jumped off the bed and grabbed Ellie's hand pulling her towards the exit. Joel was still staring at you.

"What?" you asked.

He bit his lip and muttered, "I was worried about you, I'm still worried about you... I don't know what I would do if something happened to you..."

You were surprised by his confession. You might even hug him if it weren't for the constant dizziness.

"I'll be fine and you don't have to do all this for me."

Joel stepped closer, knelt by the bed, and grabbed your hand.

"I'll take care of you and Teddy. I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel better."

You smiled slightly and nodded your head.

In the evening you were really surprised how well Joel handled the baby. You thought your boy would be very cranky after a day like this... And he was, but Joel made it. After he put his son to bed, he came back to you and sat in the armchair to watch you all night.

It was weird and embarrassing for you at first. You thought you wouldn't be able to fall asleep next to him, but his presence began to soothe you and you fell asleep.

*

Joel stretched out in an armchair and tilted his head back. He yawned and closed his eyes. He thought that nothing would happen if he took a nap for a while. Your sleep seemed restful. Before he could fall asleep he heard the patter of small feet and after a while, he felt Teddy climb into his lap. He opened his eyes and smiled softly.

"Hi, 'bear cub'."

The baby boy glanced towards the bed: "Mummy still sleeping?"

Joel combed the boy's curls. "It's night. She should sleep. Just like you."

The little one shook his head and looked at him, and despite the dim light, Joel could see traces of tears on the baby's cheeks.

"You were crying, baby. What happened?"

He pulled the boy to his chest and hugged him tightly.

"Will mommy die?"

Joel replied immediately. "No, 'bear cub'. Of course not. She'll be fine. That's why I'm here to make sure everything is okay."

Teddy nodded and murmured, "Tell me a story."

Joel frowned. "We have to go get the book."

"No," the little one moaned. "Your story."

"Oh. All right." He thought for a moment. "I'll tell you about the Boston Angel."

"That angel was pretty?"

Joel smiled and nodded. "It was basically she, and she was the most beautiful angel I've ever seen. She was also sweet and kind. Even though Boston wasn't a pretty place, she was always able to find something beautiful and show it to the children. She bent down to tie a little girl's shoes and gave food to the homeless dog, and she always smiled."

"And did she bake cookies like Mommy?"

"Yes. She was the perfect Angel, but she met the bad man." Joel sighed heavily. He didn't know why he made up this story about you two. He felt the little boy tugging at his shirt.

"And what did the bad man do?"

"He broke the angel's wings and made the angel sad."

"But why did he do it?"

"Because he forgot how to love and only remembered that losing someone you love hurts a lot. So instead of loving an angel, he preferred to hurt her." He stroked Teddy's curls. "But the angel managed to escape Boston, and then her wings grew back and became even more beautiful and stronger. So strong that they could carry her wherever she wanted."

Teddy yawned and asked, "And the bad man? Has he changed?"

Joel didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected such a question. He swallowed and replied, "He's tried hard to change and... I hope one day he'll be good and the Angel will see it."

You felt tears running down your cheeks. You woke up as soon as you heard your son's voice, but you were still tired and did not react. You knew Joel would take care of the boy. So you heard the whole story about Angel and you couldn't believe it. Joel thought you were asleep, so he didn't say all that just to win your favor.

There was silence and you guessed that Teddy had fallen asleep. You went back to sleep too.

*

Joel slowly got to his feet, holding gently the sleeping boy, but something was bothering him. The baby's body was too warm. He kissed the boy's forehead and wondered if you had a thermometer somewhere in the house. He gently placed the baby on the bed and carefully covered him with a blanket. He didn't even get out of the room before he heard a plaintive whine, "Joo."

He quickly returned to the baby and began to calm him down. "Shhh, I'll be right back."

The little one stretched out his arms towards him with another pitiful moan and began to cry. Joel sighed and took the boy in his arms, wrapping him in a blanket.

"It's okay 'bear cub'. Do you know where mom keeps the thermometer and medicine?"

The little one sobbed and pressed his face against dads shoulder, muttering, "Not sick."

Joel rolled his eyes. He realized that he had to fend for himself. And so he held the baby with one hand and searched the kitchen cupboards with the other. He found a thermometer, bandages, a hot water bottle, and medicines that he knew were not for children. He took the boy back to the room and took his temperature. He had a fever.

"Teddy, does your tummy hurt?"

"No," the boy moaned.

"And here?" he asked and touched the boy's chest.

"Only the head."

Joel frowned. He stroked the boy's back and said, "Stay here a minute. I'll check on mommy."

"NO!"

Teddy started crying and Joel panicked. He didn't want you to wake up. He quickly lifted his son and began to gently rock him in his arms and place kisses on his wet, hot cheeks.

"Shhh, shhh, 'bear cub', it's okay. We'll go to mom together, but you have to promise me you'll be quiet. Okay?"

The little one whined and nodded his head. Joel breathed a sigh of relief, though he knew he had a rough night ahead of him.

He carefully looked at you and was relieved to see that you were still asleep. By this time, the boy had already fallen asleep and Joel was able to put him to bed.

And so for the next hour, Joel wandered between your room and Teddy's room. Unfortunately, the boy woke up again and started crying.

"I want water," he sobbed.

"I'll bring you."

"Do not go!"

Joel sighed heavily and took the boy in his arms. The boy immediately clung to his body tightly. "We will go together."

Unfortunately, the boy was very moody. When he saw the blue cup of water, he wailed loudly and Joel started to panic. He didn't know what had happened and tried to calm him down.

"It's okay... Shhh, tell me what happened? Teddy, baby, 'bear cub'..."

And as if he didn't have enough problems, You walked into the kitchen. You heard your son cry and your maternal instinct was stronger than your dizziness. You staggered into the doorway and grabbed the doorframe with difficulty.

"Y/N" Joel gasped and immediately started walking towards you.

He wrapped his free arm tightly around your waist while the other still held Teddy, who was crying in his ear. Joel led you to a chair and carefully sat you down. He started rocking your son and you looked at the blue mug on the table and said, "He doesn't like that color. You have to give him a red one."

Joel breathed a sigh of relief and quickly grabbed the red cup. Teddy finally calmed down, drank some water, and fell asleep in dad's arms, but his behavior made you uneasy. You knew that such trivial things as the color of the mug only made him cry when he was ill.

"Joel, does he have a fever?"

The man reluctantly nodded. He didn't want to worry you, but he couldn't lie to you.

"He has a fever and a headache, but otherwise he's fine. He doesn't cough, he doesn't have a runny nose. I've been looking for some medicine for him, but I haven't found anything."

You sighed heavily. "They're over. I was going to go to Anderson's, but... You know."

"I know. If he's not better by morning, I'll go with him to that asshole."

You looked at him scared. "No... I can't do it."

He came closer to you. "Hey, I said I'll go. You will stay. Everything will be fine. I'll take care of everything and now I'll put the little one to bed and come back for you."

"Put him in my bed. I want him close and try to put cold compresses on him to bring down the fever."

Joel nodded and did as you said. He put Teddy in your bed and then came back for you. He wrapped his arms around you to take all your weight. Once you were in bed, he returned to the kitchen and fetched a bowl of cold water and a small kitchen towel. You watched as he knelt by the bed and gently touched Teddy's forehead.

"You have to change the water in a while."

"I know," he said and smiled slightly at you. "Don't worry. I'll be here all the time."

You sighed and closed your eyes. You carefully cuddled up to your little one and hoped that the baby boy would recover by the morning.

Unfortunately, Teddy still had a fever in the morning, like you, he didn't like the idea of visiting Anderson. He cuddled up to you and looked at Joel like he were a traitor. The man reached out to him, but the toddler consistently ignored him.

"Come on, 'bear cub', everything will be fine."

Ellie, who had already come to you, also tried to help. "Teddy, the doctor will just examine you. I and Joel will be with you."

You knew you had to intervene. You gently pushed him away from you and kissed his nose. "Honey, you know Joel will always protect you. Go with them. Mommy needs to stay in bed."

The little boy finally nodded and let Joel take him in his arms.

"Bunny" he sadly whined.

Joel kissed him on the head. "We're going to get your bunny."

After they left, you looked at the teenage girl. "Ellie, make sure he doesn't do something stupid. And I'm not talking about Teddy.”

The girl shrugged. "Okay, but I'm not promising anything."

You fell back on the pillows and closed your eyes. Your head was still spinning and you knew you had to rely on Joel.

*

The atmosphere in Anderson's office was so thick that could have cut it with a knife. The two men stared at each other with pure hatred. Eventually, Ellie intervened. She grunted loudly and muttered, "I don't know about you, but I don't want to spend all day here."

The doctor snorted. "Put him on the table. I'll listen to his lungs."

Teddy immediately moaned plaintively as he was separated from his dad's body. Joel looked at him sympathetically. He kissed his forehead and whispered, "It will only take a moment."

Teddy hugged the stuffed bunny tightly to him. Anderson looked at the little boy irritably and hissed, "Should I examine him or the stuffed animal?"

Joel clenched his jaw. He felt his head start to ache. He'd had a really rough night and was losing his patience with this prick. He carefully took the toy out of his son's hands and tenderly said, "Ellie will take care of your bunny for a while."

Tears welled up in Teddy's eyes, but he nodded and watched as Ellie gently hugged his toy. Meanwhile, Anderson, without any warning, pulled the boy's T-shirt up and held the cold stethoscope to the child's body. Teddy squeaked and jumped. Only Joel's quick reaction saved him from falling off the table.

"What are you doing?" he growled.

Anderson shrugged. "It's not my fault he's as weak as his mother."

And that was enough. Joel handed the boy into Ellie's arms and gently pushed her towards the door. "Wait with him in the corridor."

Ellie nodded her head. She herself was furious with this asshole.

As she disappeared through the door, Anderson hissed, "What, are you going to break my nose again?"

Joel smiled in a way that made Anderson uneasy and he took a step back. Joel pulled a knife from his belt and lunged for the doctor. He pushed him into the chair and with one hand squeezed his throat so that the man couldn't scream.

"No, I'll do something much worse to you," he growled from the back of his throat. "Now listen to me carefully. You will treat my son as your most valuable patient."

Anderson's eyes widened in shock. "Teddy, this is your..."

Joel laughed. "Yeah, and you'd better think it over." He slid the knife into the doctor's crotch. "You have body parts that are not needed. Without them, you'll still be useful."

Anderson swallowed and nodded. "I will be gentle..." he squeaked.

Joel nodded. "All right."

He opened the door and took the boy in his arms. He smiled and kissed him on the head. "Come 'bear cub', Mr. Anderson will be very nice now and apologize to you for hurting you."

He looked at the doctor suggestively, and the man nodded. "I'm sorry Teddy." He started heating the stethoscope and said, "He can stay in your arms while I examine him."

The rest of the examination went smoothly and Anderson was kind and gentle. When he had finished, he said, "Everything seems fine. Did something stress him out?"

Joel frowned. He wasn't sure if Anderson didn't know about your accident or if he was pretending. "Yes. He had a lot of stress yesterday."

The doctor nodded. "This fever, it could be a stress reaction or a mild cold. I'll give you pills, for him. Give him half now, half tonight, and half tomorrow morning. The fever should go down."

*

When they got home, Joel told you how the doctor's visit went. Of course, he skipped the part about the knife threat but you guessed something had happened when your son said, "Mr. Anderson was a bit rude, but then Ellie and I left and when we came back, he was already nice."

You looked suggestively at Joel, and he tried to avoid your gaze at all costs. Then you shot a disappointed look at Ellie. "You were supposed to keep an eye on him."

Ellie shrugged. "This as..." Joel grunted significantly. "This fool, he deserved it."

You shook your head and hugged your son as he began to fall asleep. You didn't really care what Joel did. All that mattered was that he got Teddy's medicine.

*

After three days, you finally felt fine. You weren't dizzy anymore and you didn't lose your balance. Your son's fever has also stopped. It was evening when you got up and decided to eat something. There was an unusual silence in the house. It was still early, but Teddy was already asleep, tired from the impressions of the last few days. But where was Joel? He took care of you all the time and you were impressed with how well he handled everything.

You walked into the living room and saw him sleeping on your couch. He looked so peaceful and you didn't have the heart to be mad at him for falling asleep in your house. You guessed he was dead tired after two nights of watching over you and Teddy. Plus, you knew your sweet little son turned into a little monster when he was sick. One minute he wanted juice, the next he was spitting it out and crying that he didn't want juice. And maybe he got it from you. Well, maybe, just maybe, you had Joel bring you a glass of cold water, and after five minutes you decided it was too cold and asked him for hot tea. And he, without whining, without a grimace on his face, obediently went to the kitchen. So yes, he had a right to be tired. You grabbed a blanket from the armchair and gently covered him. Then you crouched down at his face and felt that old sentiment. Joel's hair always looked as soft and fluffy, as your son's. Made to be combed with your fingers. And before you could stop yourself, your fingers had already sunk into his gray curls.

Joel blinked his eyes and you quickly pulled your hand away. He looked at you and started to move, but he was very clumsy.

"Sorry... I'll be up in a minute," he mumbled.

You shook your head, put your hand on his shoulder, and said, "You deserve to rest, sleep."

You saw how tired he was and that he was still half asleep, so when he spoke you weren't sure if he was aware of it.

"I wish I could have looked after you while you were pregnant."

You sighed heavily and understood. That's why he was sad. He wasn't jealous at all that Maria was pregnant. He was sorry because it reminded him of what he had lost and made him feel guilty.

"You're taking care of us now. That's enough," you whispered.

You ran your hand through his hair again and he closed his eyes and purred like a cat. A slight smile appeared on his face, and you thought maybe your son was right. Your touch really made Joel stop being sad.

A/N: Okay, so yeah, I messed up the timelines about Maria's pregnancy. I just forgot to mention it before, and it suited me perfectly here. Doctor Google told me that children can have fevers because of stress.

Part V

Part VII

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[pastel-nature]

My Pretty Little Bastard (Part 3 - Final)

Yandere!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

A/N: All characters in this fic have been properly aged up to 18+. I tried different format for the final part, I hope you guys like it.

You can read Part 1 and 2 here:

TW: ABUSE, targcest (uncle and niece), NONCON, character DEATH.

"Princess?" The voice called out to you, belonging to a man you had never seen before. Instinctively, you looked around for someone, anyone, to be by your side. But there was no one. No guard, no maid, not even Aemond.

"Princess, do not fear. I have been sent by your father and mother. You must come with me."

You shook your head and clutched your belly tight, your eyes wide with fear. Why would they send someone like him? They could come and get you themselves, or have your brothers come and pick you up.

But the man declared himself a knight loyal to House Targaryen and the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. And as he spoke, dread filled your heart as he told you of the deaths of your brothers and the war that has been raging for months. Months.

Jace died in a battle above the sea, your twin brother, set to be King, the boy attached to you by the hip, grown into a young man you barely knew. One who was set to inherit the iron throne. His life snuffed just so by barrages of arrows.

Luke, your little Luke, who praises your gentleness and beauty, who follows you with his hand clutched on your gown. You barely talked to him since he grew into a young man, and now you never will, your husband and Vhagar made sure of that.

Baby Viserys, slobering and cooing in your arm, the babe you have seen but once in your life. Gone, swallowed by the sea.

"Your mother is queen now," the knight told you, as if that would somehow heal the gaping hole in your heart. A heart that yearned to turn back time, to run to the comfort of your twin, to run your fingers through the dark curls of your valonqar, and beg your mother to let you stay. To confess that all you wanted in this life was for your mother to say, "Peace be damned, my daughter will stay by my side.” Fight back that one-eyed monster that took you away from your home.

But it was all a blur that day. You remember being held and led through a dark, muddy tunnel, away from the heat and chaos and the tangy smell of blood. The knight led you through the forest next to the castle, and you ran through the darkness together.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you sensed your deranged husband had caught a whiff of your presence. You had not seen him, but his taunts and laughter told you all you needed to know. The threat of death, violence, and abuse loomed before you. But when you turned around, all you saw was darkness. You quickened your pace, trying to outrun the danger behind you.

Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, a loud roar echoed through the trees. You froze in fear, realizing that you were being chased not just by your husband, but by Vhagar as well. The dragon's wings slowly beat the air behind you, and you saw its humongous outline in the dark sky as thunder briefly illuminated the night.

You had been abandoned, a running theme in your life it seemed, the loyal knight turned tail and ran at the sight of the colossal dragon flying above. Now you were lost in the dense forest with no idea where to go.

You could hear the dragon's wings slowly beating the air behind you, and you saw its glowing eyes in the darkness. You knew you couldn't outrun it. You were tired and couldn't go on.

Just when you thought it was all over, you heard your husband's triumphant laughter. He dismounted Vhagar and grabbed your arm, his grip tight and painful. You tried to pull away, but he was too strong.

"You're coming back with me," he growls, his eye blazing with madness. "You're mine, and you'll never leave me again."

You struggle and plead, but it's no use. Aemond drags you back to the castle and throws you into a dark room. Your husband pins you down on the bed, his mockery echoing in your ears.

"What use do you think they'll have for you, huh? Run back to Dragonstone? And what? Claim a dragon and ride to war to avenge your brothers? A pretty little bastard like you has no use for a dragon."

You stare at him in horror, unable to comprehend the monster he has finally unleashed. "You killed my brother," you state, your voice shaking. There's a part of you that wishes to act in disbelief, but you always knew who Aemond truly was. When the knight told you of his heinous deed, you didn't question him for a second, because you knew that your husband was certainly capable of such a heinous act.

"It was easy," your husband says, his smile turning into a sneer. "The craven bastard owed me an eye."

"You know, it's a shame that you're not even a real princess," your husband continued his taunts, "unworthy of the throne and titles."

Suddenly, Aemond's hands shot out towards your neck, his fingers twisted into tight fists. You screamed and thrashed, clearly no match for his strength.

"Aem..nd.. Plea..se…" you choked out with tears streaming down.

But Aemond just cackled, a harsh, guttural sound that sent shivers down your spine. His hands squeezing tighter and tighter around your neck, cutting off air supply.

You gasped for breath, vision growing darker and darker, running out of time. His hot breath trailed your neck as he dragged you below him.

Reprieve was given when his right hand ventured away from your neck to rip apart your gown and bodice. Once the deed is done his fingers dig its way to your entrance, painfully stretching you. You fought with every ounce of strength left, but it was no use. This is not your first time, nor twice, nor dozenth, you had been all too familiar that in the end there is no way out.

"Yet here I am, a rightful born son," he continues, in sync with his cruel thrusts, "It is I who studies history and philosophy, it is I who trains with the sword, it is I who rides the largest dragon in the world, it is I who willingly marries a lowly, ungrateful, foolish bastard to appease father.” Each word brings him closer to his own pleasure.

“It is I who should be king." There, looming over you, Aemond Targaryen, in his purest form.

You feel a surge of anger and pain at his words. He's right, all of it. The circumstances of your birth, your family, his pride, his efforts, and his ambition. All of these things you knew to be true, especially regarding your foolishness.

A foolish little bastard with no dragon to rely on. You curse yourself.

In a sudden shift of mood, Aemond stands up and lights the fireplace. The warmth envelops your senses as he returns to bed, draping his arms over you and peppering your temple with kisses.

"You will come around," he says. "We belong together, you, me, and our child, no matter what. And once your mother is out of the way, we can rule. Together." He takes your hand in his and gently caresses your stomach with his other hand.

The fire licks at the logs, its shadows dancing along the edges of the room. You feel a sense of strength coursing through your veins, encouragement like never before. You know the risk you're taking, but at this point, you also know all too well the things you will continue to suffer if you stay in Aemond's clutches.

"I have to go somewhere," Aemond says, donning his linen shirt. But you stop him midway.

"Don't," you say, holding his hand. "Together, you said. Then let us be, even for a while."

And so that is how the two of you fall asleep together, your breaths rising and falling as one. Or at least, that's how it should be. During your captivity, you learned two things that could save you from Aemond's wrath: one is to avoid him, and the other is to pretend to fall asleep. Skills that you had perfected just as he perfected his machinations.

As the evening began, there was fire, commotion, screams of pain, and the smell of burnt flesh. Even as you sat far away in the edges of the dark forest, the warmth and brightness of the fire bathed you still. You couldn't help but let out a deep sigh of contentment, finally finding solace in the peaceful glow of the flames and relishing the chance to sit and watch the chaos in peace.

You had no dragon, pretty little bastard don’t need one.

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who had left kind replies, reblogs, and likes. See you on the next fic!

[naranjapetrificada]

Maybe I've just curated my dash well but anecdotally, I haven't seen almost anyone express disapproval of the Izzy arc in this particular way, which I would agree is judgy and unproductive. The main concerns I've been seeing (and hopefully expressing, although maybe not effectively) have been from:

People reminded of traumas/relationship dynamics reflected in Izzy and Ed's s1 relationship in general, or specific parts of it like Izzy telling Ed he was better off dead than acting so f*ggy.

People who feel like point number 1 is being retroactively minimized by the narrative (not the characters, the narrative) not acknowledging the role Izzy played in setting off Ed's Kraken era.

People who have seen their abusers get to control the narrative around harm they caused, which the narrative silence around points 1&2 seems to underline.

People who have been gaslit about their traumas and/or felt like the only person in the proverbial room who remembers that something harmful happened.

People who see Izzy suffering and then being granted grace, and walk away concerned that the message is being sent that suffering is the path to forgiveness, which would be a dangerous message period but is especially perplexing from this show in particular.

(I'm not here to argue with any of those interpretations if Izzy or his actions so save us both the energy, I'm here to talk about the post I linked.)

I can understand how, from any of those perspectives, the Izzy arc has felt like a sour note in an otherwise great season. I certainly haven't been able to engage with it as fully as I had hoped to do when I first saw hints of where things might go while watching the first episodes of the season.

I don't need a big speech or conversation about it all or even that much screen time devoted to it. But if the narrative wants me to buy a redemption arc for Izzy, the narrative needs to acknowledge what he's being redeemed for in the first place. When I talk about what's "earned" I'm talking about what the narrative has earned, not the characters. And right now, the narrative doesn't feel like it has earned more than me holding my nose to get through Izzy redemption scenes. And that's sad for me, because I've never felt like that about this show before.

I don't believe you earn forgiveness, or that you atone for your actions for someone else's sake. True forgiveness is something that the wronged party grants for their peace of mind. True atonement is something you do for yourself to make peace with yourself what you have done. Neither is "earned", much less through groveling or suffering. But both require acknowledging and reflecting on the truth of what happened, and that lack of narrative acknowledgement is the missing stair so many of us are having to learn how to work around when it comes to watching this season.

[yinyuedijun]

You can answer this when you're off hiatus or... Not since I feel this is a bit uncomfortable to ask for, but may I ask how to write characters who had undergone csa? And how to write how they recover from it. Again I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable you can just delete this if this brings up an uncomfortable feelings I didn't know who else to approach w this question but you as your nightflower fic is wonderfully written and I want to write a character who went through something similair

But I'm afraid of coming off as insensitive and cruel or possibly even worse someone who's writing this as simple shock value or something along those lines as I have (thankfully and luckily) never experienced something like that which makes me afraid that I might write or put something very harmful in my work

I'm sorry if this is too much to ask ^^;;;; I hope this isn't a burden....

Hi anon, thanks for the question! This is a topic that is quite important to me (as I'm sure you've noticed lol), so I'm happy to answer your question. Please forgive me for the length of my answer though because I accidentally wrote a fucking thesis 😰

So, in my opinion, the first and most important thing to remember when you're writing about people who have experienced sexual abuse (underage or otherwise) is that no two survivors are the same. Even if there are many commonalities between the stories of different survivors, ultimately the experiences and recovery process (or lack thereof) is going to be unique for everyone. As such, I can't really give you a "how-to" guide on ways to shape your story, and in fact if I tried to provide you with one then you'd probably accidentally write a caricature of an SA survivor.

However, I do highly recommend that you read stories/anecdotes from real-life survivors in order to get a realistic grasp on the experience and psychological impacts of SA. If you don't have firsthand experience with this type of trauma, I think this is the single most important thing you can do in order to create a story or character that feels authentic and nuanced, rather than coming up with a caricature of a victim/predator or accidentally writing a pointless shock value narrative. An equally helpful thing you can do is read fictional stories relating to SA that were written by actual survivors, or fictional stories that resonated with actual survivors. This will give you insight into how this type of trauma, or survivors carrying this type of trauma, can be depicted in interesting or thoughtful ways - which is not something that intuitively translates from having real life knowledge on the subject.

Now, the second point I'm going to make is somewhat controversial, and you don't need to agree with it by any means. It relates to your fear of writing something "insensitive" or "cruel". While it's amazing that you want to write your story carefully and with intention, you should also keep in mind that "insensitive" and "cruel" are very subjective terms, and different audiences will have different thresholds for them. For instance, there are some people who feel like any meaningful representation of sexual abuse (especially child sexual abuse) is inappropriate to depict. There are many others who feel that your story must exist within certain boundaries to be considered an "acceptable" narrative about sexual abuse. If these people are your intended target audience, then obviously I would try to minimize any kind of discussion of the abuse - and certainly do not write any onscreen depictions of it lol.

However, if your goal is to create a story that feels authentic and nuanced, and you want it to be enjoyed by audiences who are interested in authentic and nuanced narratives, then I can tell you that paying attention to the above group of people is literally the worst thing you can do for yourself. Sexual abuse of any kind is an inherently insensitive and cruel act, and thus detailed narratives about it will always feel insensitive and cruel in some capacity. So, when you consider the execution of your story (the events depicted, the dialogue, the level of detail, etc.), I would advise you not to think about it only with the mindset of "how can I avoid writing something insensitive/shocking/fetishizing" etc. Instead, think about it in terms of the events and thoughts you must depict in order to bring to life the feelings of your characters, and in order to make their struggles and recovery feel real. You may end up with something wildly controversial. You may also still end up with a story that shows nothing onscreen, and does not go into any detailed discussion, and is nevertheless very powerful. Wherever you land though, you'll have landed there because it's the way the story needs to be told - and not because it's how someone else dictated it should be told.

This is what I do, and unsurprisingly a lot of my stories are offensive to people lol. But ironically, many actual SA/DV survivors tell me that my characters are relatable for them, and the stories make them feel seen. While I don't write my fics for SA/DV survivors in general, I do write them for me, and I generally prefer to read SA narratives that feel authentic and nuanced, rather than ones that are gutless or sanitized. That's why I prefer this approach, and I think this is also why my approach tends to produce stories that resonate with other SA survivors. But if you think your target audience will have very different tastes from mine, then this advice may not apply. It really depends on your intent!

All that being said - whatever you may write, or however you approach it, it is already a lot that you are thinking seriously about ways to write your story thoughtfully. This is already more than what most people do when they write about characters who have gone through SA, especially CSA, and I'm sure it'll come through in your work. I know I gave you a shitton of advice just now, but honestly, don't be afraid to just give it a shot and see what comes out of it LOL. You may come up with something that is exactly what you were aiming for. And if it isn't, then you'll at least have a better sense of how to execute it in the future!

I hope this helps!!!! Sending you love 🫶

[itsclydebitches]

Did I just saw with my own two eyes an episode, where Ted’s mother shows up and acts in this very disinterested “I am not interested in you and your achievements whatsoever, you are not even the main attraction of this trip and I’m going to tell you that in this indirect passive-aggressive way, but at the same time I AM here because I am displeased with you, now guess what’s wrong while I tell lies about you to your friends and colleagues. The lies that are kind of nice but also lies and it makes you feel uncomfortable and I do not care”.

And then Ted goes back to Kansas where he can’t have his career, his friends, but he will be in contact with Michelle (who dates their couple therapist, and that is something that makes Ted very uncomfortable) and mom???? Like? And Henry never asked him to return and in fact is not suffering at all. Henry is shown to be fine. He never has meltdowns when he leaves London, he doesn’t express any hurt feelings towards Ted. They seem to just have an unconventional arrangement and Henry misses Ted, but doesn’t feel neglected. It also seems like his mom just believes that Ted should be home with his son, an unassuming father who doesn’t have public panic attacks and causes her embarrassment??? Because the way she showed him the clippings from the papers?? Boy! I don’t know how else to interpret that tbh

Ted has just achieved one of the best moments in his career and his mom actively and purposefully poisoned that moment for him, this whole thing is being contrasted to Jamie’s mom, I just don’t believe that Ted is going to stay in Kansas. That can’t be.

Also I feel like the tedependance tinfoil hat is not a tinfoil hat at all because actually! Ted having suppressed a huge part about himself (bisexuality), and not being able to live his life because of his roots works really well here.

It's precisely readings like this that make me hope a permanent Kansas ending can't be possible and likewise believe that if that is our ending... Ted Lasso will have failed in a pretty significant way. Even just a few episodes ago I was fully on team, "I 100% don't want Ted to return to Kansas, but if he does I accept that this was an ending long in the making and just because I personally dislike it doesn't make it bad." Now though? They've introduced so much lately -- and emphasized so much else from past seasons, like Ted's rocky relationship with Michelle/Jake -- that I just can't read Kansas as a positive ending for Ted anymore. It's not just me and my preferences anymore, I don't think that ending fits the show, period. Is, in fact, a betrayal of everything Ted Lasso has argued for.

Ted's mom was a big part of that feeling this episode, as you've nicely laid out, anon. It's no coincidence that in an episode titled "Mom City," Ted's story with his mother does not run parallel to Jamie's (unfailingly supportive, knows him better than he knows himself, Jamie comes to her when he's ready, an act of agency that Dottie doesn't allow Ted), but rather closer to Jamie's dad. Which I don't mean as a way to say, "She's abusive!" but rather the more nuanced take that we end the episode on: You can forgive someone while still acknowledging that they've hurt you so badly. Ted, normally so polite with his "Oh boy"s and "Darn"s and "Shucks"s really says it all with a string of direct, angry, "Fuck you"s. That level of anger and disappointment will not be magically fixed with one dinner. By continually introducing Kansas-aligned characters that make Ted uncomfortable at best, uncharacteristically angry at worst, it HEAVILY sells the idea that the space itself is no longer healthy for him. He can slowly rebuild those relationships -- and arguably should -- but that's not the same thing as throwing himself back into their mix. Allowing Ted to stay in London with visits from his family is akin to Jamie remaining removed from his dad, but sending him a text on his own terms.

As for Henry, yeah. I've been arguing for ages that Henry does not act like someone who feels abandoned and the few arguments I've seen fans bring up aren't very persuasive to me. Basically, framing every normal child struggle as a result of Ted's distance. Henry being a short-term bully is not automatically some cry for attention tethered to an absent dad -- there's no evidence for that, especially when Henry uses Ted's own teachings to realize his mistake and apologize -- and him being sad with Beard is because he's finally seeing his dad and Ted is ignoring him. I'd be sad too if I hadn't seen someone in a while and they were spiraling instead of hanging with me. That doesn't mean I need them to drastically change their life to accommodate me in new ways. Henry as a character needs to be allowed to make mistakes without that automatically reflecting badly on what Ted has chosen for his own happiness and mental health. Anyway, yeah, Henry has consistently been shown to likewise be happy, well-adjusted, and fully engaged with Ted through visits/over Zoom, so this claim that Henry needs his dad in this way doesn't jive with three seasons of Henry flourishing through Ted's parenting this other way.

All of which means that, frankly, I think we should take Dottie's "Your son misses you" with a serious grain of salt. That's a damn broad statement because of COURSE Henry misses Ted and vice versa, but that basic reality of missing people in life when you're separated from them doesn't mean he misses him in the way that I think Dottie is implying: he's hurting to an extent that you need to fix in this specific way (moving back home). Beyond everything you've listed about how Dottie makes Ted uncomfortable, I think it's significant that she has Very Traditional Ideas about how this family should function. She couches it in a lot of humor and starts to demonstrate a bit more open-mindedness at the end of the episode, but we're still left with:

Telling all Ted's friends that he's done Amazing, Unique, Super Cool Things That are Objectively Impressive. To be clear, I found her interactions with the team as funny and surface-wholesome as we were supposed to, but I do think there was this underlying implication that Dottie is not as satisfied with Ted's choices as Ted himself is, so she 'accidentally' makes up stories that make him seem 'better' than he actually is. This is compounded by what you've pointed out, about how she only gives a cursory congratulations for this MONUMENTAL achievement. Compare that to Jamie's mom absolutely loosing her shit in support of him.

She brings the 'gift' of the clippings -- Ted should be GRATEFUL for this. Only a terrible son would be upset by a mother keeping track of his accomplishments! -- which not only include the headlines about the panic attacks, but she's situated them front and center, ensuring they're the first thing Ted sees. Combine that with her 'concerned' question about whether he's still getting panic attacks and you have this strong implication that Ted Is Bad For Showing Weakness. Men don't do that. The Lassos don't do that. They bury things in positivity, even the suicide of a father/husband. The fact that Ted immediately lies and says the panic attacks are gone says it all. He knows trying to explain this to her is a lost cause.

Speaking of mental health, are you really seeing that therapist? Oh, well, good for you, I guess. Me? No, no, no, I would never see one. I'm going to be suspicious of it to the point of implying that it's a flaw to need one. This is the one point where I cut Dottie a lot of slack because Ted himself went through the same arc of needing to accept the benefits of therapy, but we're nevertheless seeing where he (in part) got that biased perspective from.

There are a lot of throwaway lines that paint Dottie as a Good Traditional Mother, very much in contrast to Ted Lasso's queer, open-minded, gender roles-bending world. She continually reminds him that she is NOT having sex, it's those Australians. Why-ever would an older woman be having loud, enthusiastic sex? (Compare that to Rebecca nearly getting it on with the boat guy, a celebration of romance and sexuality for older women.) Dottie can't take the bed. That's not the polite thing to do. She needs to be coaxed into accepting even the simplest of care while, simultaneously, expecting Ted to offer it despite the inconvenience. (If I bring up the awful hostel I've been staying in you'll offer to let me crash here instead, right?). That's one of the big differences between Ted and his mother: Ted has a lot of trouble accepting help, but honestly doesn't expect anything in return for the intense kindness he doles out to others. In contrast, Dottie has trouble admitting that she's accepting help, she pretends to do the nice thing while waiting for someone to insist strongly enough that she do what she's wanted to do from the get-go, then she's off the hook because, well, they basically made her. Will Dottie go to a football game like Henry and Higgins and Rebecca and Keeley and Bex and all the other emotionally open characters, screaming for her son in the midst of chaotic action? Oh no. No, no, no, that's not for her. She'll just stay home and do the Proper Thing of making a home-cooked dinner for her little boy... while making him feel guilty about that by sending texts about how now she kinda does wish she was at the game. The conclusion to their moment of honesty and growth is Ted (a man, the child in the relationship) serving her (the woman, the mother) for once, which I think highlights how much of the Good Traditional Kansas Woman mask Dottie has learned to maintain.

All of which is to say that we've been introduced to a loving but incredibly flawed mother who puts a LOT of stock in old-school values and appearances. There's no way that this all doesn't extend to her views on Henry, her grandson. Right now, Dottie is not someone who can fully embrace Ted's nontraditional style of life (divorced, in therapy, taking some risks like drinking not-actually-drugged tea) or parenting (long-distance, "It takes a village"). She doesn't outright reject Ted's choices, but she does spend the entire episode being passive-aggressive, even manipulative at times, to make it very clear that she does not approve of all this. When she says, "Your son misses you" it reads as a very biased view of the situation, driven by the idea that no child could possibly be happy without that nuclear family living their white-picket fence life in the good old US-of-A. Ted needs to move back to Kansas not because of Henry, but because that's what Good Fathers Do. I don't think Dottie should be seen as a reliable source here for what Henry actually wants or needs. She certainly hasn't been a reliable source for Ted.

Which -- as said numerous times -- paints Kansas in an incredibly negative light. We haven't actually seen Ted in Kansas on the show, so our understanding of his relationship with that place is filtered through the people living there. Michelle, Jake, and Dottie are all emotional landmines that Ted still needs a lot of time to diffuse and Henry is written as perfectly content with their arrangement. If Ted permanently goes back to Kansas I'm really gonna be ????????????????????????????????? about it.