#me and Sam found all the core furniture. me and Sam sorted out all the viewings. me and Sam did all the planning. Sam set up all the bills.

[thedreadvampy]

My housemate is moving out in January

She told us this a week or two ago, when she sat down and, after sitting with us watching TV for over an hour, said "hey so I bought a house and I'm moving out. We agreed on 2 months notice so I won't move until the end of January."

The last time she talked in the immediate terms about buying a house was in 2021, when the sale she was working on fell though and she was unemployed so it was a "when I'm back in a position to look I'll start looking again." Since then I've occasionally asked her how she's doing on the house buying front and she's been like "oh I'm getting there financially" but hasn't mentioned anything concrete.

She didn't tell us she was looking at places. She didn't tell us she had put in an offer. She told us when the offer was finalised. A week AFTER she emailed the letting agent about getting out of her part of the lease. And, it increasingly feels like, only because the letting agent's response was that we had to agree to change the lease.

The letting agent's response (which our housemate obviously didn't copy us into; we had to follow up separately and they copied us into the email chain) also includes that when we change the lease, they're empowered to change the rent, quote, "no cap". Rent was already going up in January - there's no possibility of Sam and I paying her share of the rent.

The really fucking upsetting thing is we're not strangers. This isn't a casual "housemate we found on flatshare" thing. She and Sam have lived together literally their entire adult lives. Me and her have known each other well over a decade. I lived in her and Sam's flat when I was homeless. We were the first people she came out to as trans. We're not super close but I thought we were fucking friends. And she's literally gone out of her way to not talk to us about this for what must have been months while the sale completed - which means she's lied to my face at least once cause I've asked her about her finances in that time (cause she's in a job she hates that she only took to get the house money, so it's like. when we've been commiserating about work stuff I'm often asking 'are you almost free?'). she literally went out of her way to talk to the letting agents before talking to us about putting us in a situation where we could lose our fucking home.

And she keeps. trying. to pretend nothing's happened. Every time I've seen her since then she's not mentioned anything or apologised or anything, she just keeps chatting away and offering hugs and fistbumps like nothing's happened. Like we're still fucking friends.

All it would take for us to still be friends and to be happy for her would have been one fucking sentence in the groupchat like "hey, just put an offer in on a house" or "I'm looking at properties, just so you know, that might happen in the next few months". Like nobody begrudges her for buying a house! It's very cool for her! She's 31 she's worked really hard to get the money I would love to be happy for her! Unfortunately she decided avoiding conflict is more important than giving the people she fucking LIVES WITH (who btw fronted her a month on the rent here while she was unemployed and agreed to take on a larger proportion of the move-in cost back in 2021, if we're still holding ourselves to shit we said 2.5 years ago), so no, you are not entitled to our friendship or to going back to normal.

like if she'd been honest with us it would have been something to process but we'd have had time to figure out our next steps. instead she's left us in a position where we have to find a new roommate before she gives her one month notice, which means finding someone by the end of December, which oh look that's the middle of the fucking Christmas holidays. and she didn't tell us anything until the START of December, or copy us into her conversation with the letting agent, meaning we still don't know what the rent on that space will be so we aren't yet in a position to advertise it. Has she offered to help find a roommate? Has she fuck. Has she offered to help out by moving her move-out date? Nah, she's moving as soon as she gets the keys because, quote, "that means her finances won't have to change". SOUNDS LOVELY. NOT HAVING YOUR FINANCES SUDDENLY CHANGE. I THINK THAT SOUNDS LIKE A REALLY REASONABLE FUCKING GOAL.

Thirteen fucking years she's lived with Sam. Four fucking weeks over Christmas she's left us to figure out a way to not turbofuck our living situation. And she's got the fucking nerve to try and pretend we should be interacting like nothing's changed. Jesus Christ. What a fucking unhinged way to treat...anybody, honestly. never mind the friends-your-entire-adult-life part. literally cannot imagine a scenario in which I would buy a house without telling the people I lived with.

(haha actually this is what my parents divorced over so apparently it's not unusual. although at least my dad had the decency to tell the woman he shared finances with at the point he put in an offer not the point the fucking sale went through.)

Like we'll be fine. It's a huge city centre flat with decent rent and queer housemates, hopefully even when the rent goes up it'll be an easy sell in a city with a huge housing shortage and big queer community. We've got a couple of people interested already, sight unseen - worst case scenario we have to live with someone we don't get on with. And it's given Sam and me a push to look at our own finances and as of today, we've got a mortgage decision in principle and can start looking at flats in the area - mind, we'll be transparent upfront and tell any prospective housemates that yeah, we're looking to buy and move out in the next 6-12 months, and we'll tell them if we put an offer in, because we're decent fucking people who aren't going to spring that on someone out of the blue.

But it's been I think 2 weeks and I'm so fucking angry I could spit. It's such a fucking betrayal. And frankly you know selfishly like. I just had a breakup a couple of months ago, I'm in the middle of moving jobs, both me and Sam have a history of housing instability and this has been the first decent, stable, safe, not-mouldy not-freezing home I think any of us have had, and this is so fucking triggering and upscuttling I could just start biting. like I was talking to my friend about it last week and it's just like. Can I have One Fucking Thing of the three main tentpoles of survival - home, work, relationships - that are fucking stable right now? because shit has been In Flux lately. and at least the work and relationship stuff has changed because of my decisions. going through all that work to make myself short-term unstable to gain long-term stability has been really hard and draining and then just as I was reaching the crisis point with work stuff BOOM, IT'S HOUSING INSTABILITY WITH A STEEL CHAIR. fuck. seriously fuck this and fuck her. we're going to make something good come of it but what a deeply, unbelievably shitty thing to do.

#red said #the other thing that bugs me about it is. ok and again this is old shit dredged back to 2021 when we moved in together #but i had my housemate. and Sam had her. and each of us were really close pairs who'd lived together a long time #and we tried looking for flats as a four but a) a flat with 4 good sized bedrooms in Edinburgh is hens teeth #and b) my housemate was pretty happy to live with me and Sam but increasingly felt like a 4 man flat was going to be a lot for him #and so in the end we talked about it. and through a combination of that and same housemate being in a pretty #unfavorable position housing wise. cause she was unemployed and had shit credit at that moment. #we agreed she'd move with us and Joe went and found a one bed #and in the end that's been really great for him tbh he's a lot happier and more confident and we were pretty sick of each other by then #and so we get on much better now #but at the time it was a real heartache i felt like I'd let Joe down i felt like our friendship was over #and honestly I have never been a huge fan of living with our current housemate. even before we lived here #like when i was staying with her and Sam too. she's incredibly messy and takes up a lot of space in conversations #I've always liked her as a person but she's exhausting and often unpleasant to share space with #and there's a bit of me that's like. we bent over backwards to accommodate you when you were precarious. #like it would have been WAY easier for us to look for a 2-bed during 2021. and if it was a 3-bed I'd have rather stayed with Joe. #but we moved with her for her sake. and she left Sam to clean up their old place (and there were Literal Rats) #and she got really pissy about driving the moving van even though a) that was her idea and b) she's the only person with a license #and c) i walked all MY shit over by hand anyway and the only reason she hired the van was to move her tv #me and Sam found all the core furniture. me and Sam sorted out all the viewings. me and Sam did all the planning. Sam set up all the bills. #we spotted her for rent!we took a bigger share of the costs! because we fucking cared about her and wanted her to have a fucking home! #and she can't even do us the courtesy you'd offer a fucking lodger you found on fucking gumtree

[mittensmorgul]

So for the most part, I outright reject the finale. But I do think, in light of the whole "Jimmy was supposed to be in the bar, and Dean was disappointed by that because his perfect heaven would have Cas in it" just makes me all the more convinced that the final episode was some kind of djinn dream. Like.... There's no other explanation in my opinion. If Dean's perfect heaven was supposed to have Cas, and he tragically gets faked out by Jimmy (????? Why tf would jimmy be there anyway), it just proves that it's not ACTUALLY heaven. That, along with he El Sol beer he's drinking is all the evidence I need. I think after 15x19, Dean and Sam got whammied by some monster, and are stuck in a hallucination, and that's what we're seeing. (My headcanon is that it's actually The Empty doing it, because it knows if it doesn't keep Dean and Sam occupied and spinning in circles, they'll invade the Empty to save Cas. So its trying to prevent that) :)

Hello, anon friendo! I am gonna start by offering the socially distanced version of a high five, because yeah... There is just so much to unpack here, and you provided such a succinct and all-encompassing series of statements to start from. Thank you!

*flings open array of questionable suitcases*

First off, Congrats on having rejected the finale. I know a lot of folks are still struggling with that one, for many reasons. But you have hit upon so many of the points I’ve been trying to make about the finale since it aired. I’d just like to start with some of the assumptions I’ve heard from folks about the finale that make it impossible for me to consider it fully honestly canon. Because so much about it just makes no goshdang sense... like... not at all...

One of the biggest issues I have surrounding the reception of the finale in parts of fandom is that it portrayed a “happy ending.” The show itself spent the entire final season telling us that a gravestone marked Winchester was not and never would be a happy ending (thank you Becky Rosen-- words I never thought I’d say, but honestly and most sincerely meant). Let’s break this down a bit.

Starting from the assumption that “heaven was fixed” so that characters could have true free will there, making it satisfying in any way that Dean died so young and never got to truly experience happiness during life, I would like anyone who has adopted this attitude to then explain Kansas the band. I mean... explain that in any satisfactory canon-compliant way. (hint: you can’t. it makes zero sense in canon, if heaven is truly reformed and “happy” with everyone in possession of free will.)

Which brings me to Misha’s comments about Jimmy being in the Roadhouse. Why, if heaven were truly fixed, would Jimmy ever in a bazillion years attend a party for Dean Winchester? If Heaven were truly a “happy” ending for Dean, why introduce this element of eternal tragedy and heartbreak to his heaven experience? Why taunt him with the eternal loss of Cas-- even if you don’t think he reciprocated Cas’s romantic feelings, he was canonically the best friend Dean ever had, and being forced to exist forever in a place where he had everyone else he ever cared for except for Cas? Is frankly horrific.

How the actual fuck is that a happy ending, in any sense of the word?

How is this the sort of heaven that Dean would’ve made for himself before it was “fixed?” At least in the memorex heaven, he could’ve lived in oblivious peace with Cas, even if it was always just his own memories and not ~actually Cas~. I honestly think that would’ve been happier than the abject tragedy of what we did get, and what we would’ve gotten had the original script played out.

All of this kind of makes me wonder if they ever even actually defeated Chuck. Like... it feels more like Dean got pulled into the Empty at that moment with Cas and Billie, and everything else after that point was the Empty’s endless experience of sorrow and despair we knew it subject its charges to. So that’s one potential for what could’ve actually happened. I mean, everything about the finale was sorrow and despair, you know? Dean didn’t even get to enjoy his pie at a pie festival because Sam smashed in in his face. How is any of it happy, in any way?

Because if that was actually heaven, there wasn’t actually any free will (because why tf would Kansas the band have chosen to put on that concert? why tf would Jimmy have been there, just to torment Dean with the taunt of Cas returning to him only to have that hope snatched away again? It’s cruel. It’s, in fact, a source of intense despair).

The djinn theory could also work, and I’ve read some excellent fix-it fic using that as a premise. But that doesn’t really explain what happened to Jack (and Amara, since she was in there with them) after hoovering up Chuck’s power, you know? I think the simplest explanations in canon are that Chuck actually won via the unified power of Light and Dark being transferred into Jack and effectively using him as a vessel. With Sam and Dean convinced they’d won, they effectively stopped resisting Chuck’s story for them, and using Jack’s understanding of humanity and the Winchesters specifically, Chuck finally was able to implement a version of his story that the Winchesters would just waltz into without thinking it was supernaturally influenced at all. Going bigger and bigger with monsters and cosmic troubles hadn’t worked, but going so small Sam and Dean would barely even notice the influence-- even with the incongruous reappearance of a vampire that appeared in their lives once, for like two whole minutes 15 years ago, and an unsolved case from the journal from more than 30 years ago that John had never even linked to vampires at all.

At this point, I need to mention that I’m watching 10.23 as I type this up. An episode in which we confront the Mark, along with Death, and Dean’s despair, where he learns a version of the truth (but by no means the full truth, or even accurate truth in some respects) about Chuck’s Story, Amara/The Darkness, etc. That would unfold more fully over the next five seasons. And what was the case Dean took in this episode? Vampires. LOLOL omg this show is nothing if not horrifically consistent, yes?

So because of this, I went haring off through my own blog looking for a post I made a long time ago about the symbolism of how various monsters are used on this show (because again, consistency). I got sidetracked by other posts in my monsters tag, including this from after 15.09 aired, which feels particularly awfully relevant. This was my reaction to Chuck’s Story he showed Sam in that episode, about what the future would look like should he successfully trap Chuck with a Mark, and which... yeah is basically exactly thematically consistent with what we saw in the finale, right down to a cheesy twist on vampires. Read the whole post right here, but this is the part that reached up and punched me in the face:

this is how Dean personally reacts when he loses Cas. We know how he reacts when he loses anyone else– think about what he did when Charlie died. He went on a murder rampage against the Stynes for killing her. When Mary died he broke some furniture and went full bore toward both resurrecting her and stopping Jack. But without Cas, Dean loses the will to fight. Sam has… always been different. He referenced Jess in 15.04 to remind us of how he was after she died in the pilot episode. Just like John, he picked up the revenge mission and ran with it. But for Dean, Cas is different. Without Cas… Dean gives up.

Because... Dean gave up. Sure, he and Sam weren’t overrun by vampires in the end. Chuck knew they’d never stop fighting the monsters, one way or another. The only way to get Dean to give up is something Chuck hadn’t quite figured out yet... maybe not until after 15.17, after confronting Cas in the hallway of the bunker, after absorbing Amara’s power, knowledge, and perspective on Dean.

Chuck needed Dean to give up, and honestly? Pushing Billie to clear him off the table and send him (and Cas, that pesky angel who never did what he was told) to the Empty would’ve been a direct way to deal with that... pretty much akin to having one sibling locked in a cage forever, yes?

Also, still looking through my monsters tag, I’m reminded of 14.15, and still cannot differentiate the version of Heaven in 15.20 from what was done to the people of that town. This... is not... paradise. This is actively what Dean has been insisting is the OPPOSITE of paradise since like… 4.22… No ending where Dean was a “Stepford bitch in paradise” ever had the possibility of being “happy,” at the core of things, and this “fixed” version of Heaven just doesn’t hold up to any degree of inspection. Something is seriously wrong here. https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/183465650390/so-can-we-talk-about-this-monster-of-the-week-for

And since I was unable to find the post I wrote who knows how long ago about Monsters and how they’re symbolically used on Supernatural to represent larger themes in the episode, I’ll just attempt to sum up what Vampires have been used for. Revenge. Vampires are always, in some way connected to themes of revenge.

(and hooray, I found at least a post adjacent to the one I’ve spent the last four hours trying to find... https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/187207052080/i-obviously-did-not-think-this-through, where I mention that shapeshifters are about revealing hidden truths (mostly about Dean since most shapeshifters are connected to Dean), zombies are about grief and the inability to move past it.)

So why... why at the end of their road is the monster that comes after them-- literally FOR REVENGE for something that had never been blamed on Sam or Dean to begin with, from season 1, directly connected to John’s revenge mission and the first time they learned about the Colt AND the first time they learned in canon that Vampires were even real... like... this feels very specifically like some kind of layers-of-meta levels of shade on them, you know? Vampires are for revenge, so what vengeance exactly is being visited upon Sam and Dean in this episode? If not Chuck’s entire story for them itself?

So yeah, 100% agree, something is incredibly rotten in the finale. And I am sick to effing death of people trying to convince us that anything about this was “good” or “happy” or “satisfying” in any way. Or even “how it was always supposed to end” with Dean dead bloody, as if the entire back half of the series hadn’t been suggesting that a true win was the subversion of all of Chuck’s story for them, and Dean finally being able to have his chosen family all alive, happy, and chilling on a beach somewhere watching the sunset. Nothing will ever convince me that the ending portrayed in 15.20 wasn’t exactly how Chuck thought he “won,” rendering it entirely irrelevant to the rest of canon, unless all of canon was ultimately the tragedy we’d been encouraged to believe would be firmly defeated in the end.

Folks, you can’t have it both ways. 

#spn 15.20 #chuck's process #if this was the 'happy' ending for dean they sure did fail big time to make it actually happy! #it makes me feel sick thinking that dean's happy heaven ending was more like an eternal pit of torment #like actively tormenting him and taunting him with the fact that cas was truly gone forever #like wow they went all the fuck out to make it clear that even in heaven #dean would never be allowed to respond to cas's declaration of love #like... it's the most hurtful and hateful thing the show could possibly have done to us #and it still fucks me up knowing there's people who think this heaven was a 'good' ending for dean #like... fuck that entirely and with extreme prejudice #i feel like i have not been emphatic enough about my absolute hatred for this episode in these tags #but sadly there are limitations to expressing the actual feelings i'm feeling in the english language #sometimes the only effective word for these feelings involves velociraptor screeching #Anonymous

[saltedstorm]

* COURTNEY EATON, CIS FEMALE + SHE/HER  | you know MEREDITH AUSTEN, right? they’re TWENTY-FOUR, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, THEIR WHOLE LIFE? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to DREAMS BY THE CRANBERRIES like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole KETCHUP COVERED FRIES, MASON JARS FILLED WITH PAINT WATER SCATTERED AROUND THE ROOM, AND HANDMADE WIND CHIMES thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is JUNE 10TH, so they’re a GEMINI, which is unsurprising, all things considered. 

tw - organ donation & chronic illness

hey pals!! my name is bee ( 22, she/her ) and im excited to introduce my babe meredith.  please don’t hesitate to hmu for plotting, you’re totally welcome to message me here or on discord! ( god of destruction#5393 )  

okay here is mere!  i’ve only played her once before so i hope to develop her further here in irving!  tldr; grew up in irving, donated a kidney to her sister as a teen, now dedicates herself to doing what she wants and living life to the fullest, artist, waitress, loves the sea

p a s t

meredith grew up in irving with her mother, father, & older sister in a modest house on orion avenue. as a kid she felt trapped in the small seaside tourist town, but it’s grown on her.  now she could never imagine leaving.

from a young age she was always on the beach, running through the sunshine, surfing, snorkeling, & sailing.  

she always did fairly well in school, but she was always much more interested in the social aspect. 

when meredith was a teen, her older sister went into kidney failure after a long battle with chronic kidney disease throughout childhood.  she regularly spent time in the hospital as her sister received treatments.

at fourteen, mere was tested and found to be a positive match for her sister, and volunteered to donate her kidney to get her sister off dialysis.  they were able to get court approval for the surgery, and thus she became one kidney lighter.

having a single kidney may cause some people to live extra cautiously, but meredith and her sister had learned at a very young age how quickly all of life’s pleasures can be ripped away from you without warning so they made a vow to always live on their own terms and never deny themselves excitement or fun.  

when she graduated she had the option to go away for school, but she decided to stay.  she went to a local community college where she got a degree in studio art and hung around the only home she’d ever known.  

p r e s e n t

mere currently works at the scuba as a waitress and occasional bartender when they’re short staffed.  it’s not a dream job but she doesn’t mind it.  she makes good tips and she doesn’t take any shit from her coworkers or customers.  

occasionally she does work around town, she’s painted a few murals for local businesses & the community.  painting is her favorite medium, so it’s usually what you can find her doing if she’s not in the water.  

she’s often hanging outdoors whether rollerskating through a farmers market, swimming in the ocean, or sunbathing on her roof.  lately she’s also been practicing making cocktails.

currently lives in delphinus heights with rowan

despite being the youngest sibling, meredith definitely has big sister energy.  at a young age, she was placed in a sort of caretaker role when it came to her sister.  though she may not always initially come off this way, at her core mere likes to take care of people.  you need a place to crash for a few days? someone to drive you home bc you got too drunk? got in a fight? arrested? she’s got you.  she might just ring you out for it too.  it’s all out of love.

p e r s o n a l i t y

direct - meredith tends to speak her mind.  she is strong in her opinions, and isn’t usually afraid to share them.  she’s outspoken & proud.  this can get her into trouble, both with friends and authority.

playful - despite this, she tries not to take her self too seriously.  she likes to have fun.  she’s not a hardcore party girl, she’s much more into a laid back vibe.  watching the stars from her rooftop, bonfire on the beach, sneaking into somewhere she doesn’t belong.

loyal - mere loves her friends, and she would do anything for them.  a talk shit get hit kinda girl.  see the following.

stubborn - meredith likes her life, and she isn’t a big fan of change.  she’s afraid of losing what she loves, and can get very defensive when things threaten her routine.

p l a y l i s t

island in the sun // wheezer

dreams // the cranberries

to whom it may concern // sam spiegel

can you discover ? // discovery

three little birds // bob marley & the wailers

carolina // harry styles

kokomo // the beach boys

kiss me // sixpence none the richer

cool for the summer // demi lovato

margaritaville // jimmy buffet

upside down // jack johnson

p e o p l e

friends - her ride or die besties, new acquaintances, locals she went to school with, fellow artists, coworkers from scuba, regulars she serves all the time, people she parties with, etc!  we can discuss & brainstorm

roommate(s) - i imagine mere living in an apartment or a house with one or a few friends.  expect lots of plants, thrifted furniture, paint splatters, and mismatched dishes.

exes - mere has lived in irving her whole life so she’s bound to have some previous relationships & flings so gimme them all.  she’s also pansexual, so these relationships could be with anyone. maybe someone she was with for a really long time and everyone thought they’d be together forever but they broke up.  could still be amicable, could still have feelings, or could hate each other now.

enemies - meredith can be quite blunt at times so it’s probably made her a few enemies.  could be someone she just doesn’t get along with, someone that she’s pissed off, someone that fucked with one of her friends, etc.

romantic - any and all current romantic relationships too pls! maybe someone she hooks up with on occasion, someone who keeps trying to ask her out but she won’t bite, someone she’s had feelings for for awhile, etc.  again, we can brainstorm if you’re interested!

family - i’d love for her to have some family in the bay whether it’s siblings & cousins, or whatever.  i know her ethnicity can be hard to match so adopted or step siblings are welcome!  

& more!

#irvingintro #☼ ˙ ˖ ✧ —𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 // about .

[themusicplayedherlife]

Take a Chance (16)

pairing: steve rogers x reader characters: steve rogers, reader, word count: 3k+ warnings: fluff, description of child birth, a bit of angst, some 18+ allusions in the beginning a/n: we’ve come to the end (almost--epilogue coming soooooon)!! i want to thank everyone who has read and kept up with this series <3 i had many moments when i wanted to give up especially after the notes started dwindling and when i realized the masterlist has more notes than the actual story lmfao, but i pushed that aside and instead started writing for myself and it somehow worked out. this story doesn’t end like the movie; the movie has a beautiful twist and ending that i didn’t want to copy or translate to writing. this was a different story inspired by the movie and reader had her own issues and those issues are what she was supposed to work out, steve helped, and shrimp did too in their own way.

once again, thank you to everyone that has stuck around, commented, liked and reblogged! i appreciate all of you <3

prev || all || epilogue

Steve’s arm is under your head and bent so long fingers can lazily smooth out your hair from your sweat slick skin. The cool air of the night brushes against your warm skin from the the open veranda of your small hut over the clear waters of Bora Bora.

He stretches your left hand out with his, staring up at the beautiful sparkling ring that now belongs to you for as long as he’ll have you—no, for as long as you live.

“What about ring?”

“Anillo,” you tell him.

He brings down your hand to kiss the back of it. “Hand?”

You adjust your head to look up at him. “You should know this.”

His eyebrows pinch together, lips pursing for a moment before his face brightens. “Manos!”

You hum in contentment, hiding your smile from him by gazing back at the ring that somehow still shimmers in the dead of night. “Fingers?”

The fingers in your hair pause and his chest rumbles. “Uh.”

“I’ll give you a hint. It starts with de,” you say, folding down your fingers except for two.

“De…dos!”

You laugh softly. “You’ve got it!”

“I’ve got a good teacher.” He turns his head slightly to press a kiss to your hair, slowly lowering your hand back down. “Quiz me more.”

You turn on your side and look up at him to find him staring down at you with a soft smile. “I won’t go easy on you.”

“I was counting on it.”

You bite your lip and sit up, not caring that the thin, white sheet covering your body pools to your waist, leaving you exposed to his eyes and the beautiful glittering waters. You scoot forward and slip your hand under the sheet to pat his leg just under his knee. “Leg?”

“Uh, pierna?” he asks a little unsure and you smile at the confusion crossing his pretty features.

“You sure?”

“Yes?”

“Well, you’re right.” He grin stupidly and you can’t help but snort. “Be more confident, Steve.” You slowly bring your hand up to his knees. “Knee?”

He quirks an eyebrow at you, suspicion beginning to pool in his eyes. “Rodella?”

“Close. Remember, double l’a are pronounced as if it were a y and it’s di not de. Rodilla.” He repeats it successfully and you nod as you trace the strong muscles of his thighs flexing under your soft touch. “Thighs?”

“Muslos,” he says breathlessly, blue eyes darkening.

You trace higher, just barely brushing against the hair on the base of his pelvis and ignore the hitch of his breath to hike up to his stomach. You tap it teasingly at the small playful growl that escapes his lips.

“Baby,” he whines and you can’t help the excitement that builds up at that low, rough voice of his.

“You’re being quizzed.”

He grunts, head slumping back into the pillow as you caress the slowly tensing muscles of his stomach. “It starts with an E.”

“Uh-huh?” You continue to run your finger up and down his chiseled stomach, loving the way his muscles react to your touch. “And what follows after that?”

“I don’t know,” he groans—whether from not remembering the word or from your touch, you don’t know. But it’s still a win for you.

You gently lift yourself and box his thighs between yours as you lean down to just barely trail your lips up his stomach. He sighs contently. “Estómago.”

“Fuck,” he says through a breathy sigh. “Wouldn’t have remembered that.”

“Then maybe you need a recap.” You knead his chest followed by wet kisses, slowly scooting up. “Pecho?”

He places his hands on your waist, one hand trailing down to your thigh as he slowly sits up. “Chest.”

“Cuello?”

“Neck.” He brings you closer to him, hard length pressing against your wet, warm core, a small gasp escaping your lips when he grinds up.

His blue eyes are hazy, dark, staring down at you with so much love and desire, but he doesn’t do more than grind, doesn’t do more than flex his fingers into your skin. He’s waiting for you, just as you’ve been waiting for him.

It’s scary how easy it is to get lost in him, but it’s even scarier how much you want to delve deep into him, into this. There’s a fleeting thought—did you feel the same way that night? Maybe. Maybe not. But that night doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is the future you’re building together—a future you had desperately tried to deny.

You love him.

Lips hover, fingers graxe against warm skin, hot breath fanning. “Labios.” It’s barely said, more of a breathy whisper.

He loves you.

He answers in kind. “Lips.”

And there’s no distance between you.

“Can you see?”

You sigh exasperatedly. “No, Steve. I can’t see.”

This is the third time he’s asked you since he blindfolded you, wanting to surprise you with what he’s been working on for the last couple of months.

His hands are on your bulging stomach and his chest is pressed against your back and it’s ridiculous how you’re both waddling. Now that your stomach is practically the size of a basketball, his hands are always on your stomach, not that they weren’t always on you before. But Steve loves the feeling of Shrimp kicking and moving. You don’t blame him, you love it, too.

It’s really crazy how there’s a life growing inside of you.

“Okay. Okay. You ready?”

“Yes.”

His hands leave your stomach and Shrimp moves, almost as if following after daddy’s hands. You laugh and Steve rustles around.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I think Shrimp misses you already.”

Steve’s hands find your stomach again and he coos gently—“Do you, honey? But I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”

There’s a smile on your face and you wish you could see the tenderness in his gaze. Shrimp kicks in response and he can’t help but chuckle, the sound affectionate and so full of love for your little one.

Steve’s warmth leaves your tummy and instead his fingers brush against your cheeks. “Keep your eyes closed.”

“Steve—“

“No whining, come on.”

You roll your eyes but nod, doing as he says and the blindfold comes off with a quick pull of his fingers. He maneuvers around you, standing behind you once more and wrapping his arms just above your breasts, pressing your back against his chest once more.

“Open them.”

Eyes flutter, chest constricts, and Shrimp kicks—and there’s a moment where you don’t know what to say. You still don’t know what to say.

“It’s…”

For the past few months, this room has been off limits to you. At first, you had been the one to exile yourself from the room, thinking maybe Steve could use it as his bedroom or an office of sorts to get away from you, but there wasn’t any need for that when you both found a balance at home. Then, it was Steve barring you from entering, wanting to keep the room a surprise for you.

He had enlisted the help of Bucky and Sam (and Ben, too), who would come over often to help, sometimes Clint and Tony, too. They’d spend hours in this room and you’d hear their groaning and complaining (from Tony mostly—“why didn’t you just buy it assembled? I’m getting splinters!”) from building the crib and a few other pieces of furniture you and Steve selected for the nursery.

And while seeing everything up and ready for your little one is an already overwhelming feeling, it’s what is on the walls that causes your heart to slam into your ribcage and the reason behind the prickling in your eyes and nose. “Steve… you… you did this?”

You maneuver around the crib in the middle of the room as a delighted gasping sob escapes your lips and there’s shuffling behind you, nervous shuffling. With a gentle hand you trace the beautiful painted branches of the thick tree with green leaves and yellow flowers on a light blue backdrop; your fingers find the Polaroid pictures, the ones of you and Steve and your friends and family pressed messily, and somehow so carefully and beautifully on the branches. You linger on a recent picture you took at another family barbecue, you sitting on Steve’s lap, your mouth open in a genuine laugh and Steve’s hand on your stomach and wrapped around your waist, face hidden in your shoulder, but his eyes peek over your shoulder, crescent eyes smiling at the camera. Bucky took this picture, didn’t he?

Glancing at him over your shoulder, you find him rubbing the back of his neck.

“I did, yeah,” he answers timidly and your heart swells. “Took a lot longer than I expected, but…”

“It’s amazing.”

His eyes meets yours and as soon as he sees your tears he rushes forward and cups your cheeks, wiping the tears away. “Baby—why—what’s wrong—“

You laugh and it’s messy and Steve’s expression softens. “It’s hormones! Shrimp makes me a mess, I swear.”

He chuckles, his forehead thumping against your gently. “Is it really just Shrimp?”

Your hands perch on his shoulders. “No,” you admit. “It’s also because I’m so happy.”

He hums gently and his lips graze your forehead. “Good.” He brings you close to him as much as he can with your tummy in the way. “Do you think Shrimp will like it?”

“Like it? They’ll love it!” you assure him, hands gliding up to cup the back of his neck and tugging on the short hairs playfully. “All the memories we’ll make together, all the people that are eager to meet Shrimp, they’ll be on this wall for them to always look at and remember: they’re loved.” You nuzzle into him. “You’re the most amazing dad, Steve. Our Shrimp is lucky to have you.”

He breathes deeply, it’s shaky and stuttery. “I love you.”

It’s a weird feeling knowing that you could be moments away from bringing life into this world--the pain is there, it’s burning and searing, getting stronger and harder to ignore, coming quicker than before. Steve is here too, cradling your hand to his chest as you hold on for dear life, needing some kind of grounding. You can faintly see him and it hurts--it hurts so much. You’ve been pushing for hours and hours--when will it stop?

Your vision blurs, head falls back against the pillow--push! You have to push! You’re so close! So damn close!

Steve hovers over you, trying to catch your eyes, keep you looking at him. How can a man be so beautiful? Will Shrimp look like their dad or you? You wouldn’t mind it if they looked like Steve, they’d be so beautiful, like a little puppy, chasing you around with an adorable giggle. Steve would hold their hands and help them run after you. He wouldn't ever let you run. Not from him. And not from Shrimp.

With a final push, your legs feel like lead, your body falling back and that’s when you hear it--the loud wailing--their cries, their beautiful cries.

“Congratulations Mr and Mrs. Rogers, you have a healthy, beautiful boy.”

“We have a boy,” Steve whispers, his voice rough and raw--eyes red and so beautiful.

You’re tired, arms weak, but you still hold your arms out--you wanna hold him, you wanna feel him close to you. He’s covered in goo and blood, but you don’t care, not when he’s pressed up against your chest, his wails telling you he’s alive and here, with you--with Steve. “We have a boy,” you repeat, voice hoarse and Steve presses a kiss to your head, so tender and gentle.

You have a beautiful baby boy.

He cries in your arms, tiny hands balled up into fists, thin blonde hairs on his little bald head sticking up awkwardly and you can’t help but laugh—your mom had claimed your heartburn was caused by Shrimp having a lot of hair. You didn’t believe her at first, but now you do.

“Angel,” Steve says softly. “He’s our little angel.”

Your lips twitch and you stare down at your crying baby waving his little fists. “Angel,” you repeat, spanish laced into your voice. “Angel Steven Rogers.”

Amora and Sam’s Wedding

The night air is brisk and welcoming to your heated skin.

Most of the guests are gone, including the bride, who sneaked off at some point during the reception, but Sam doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seems to be taking advantage of the fact she’s gone by flirting a mile a minute with Wanda and Natasha, even you, and slamming down drinks that Bonky?—Buck?—Duck?—Bucky?—keeps pouring. Or maybe you’re the one pouring them? Honestly, you don’t know. You just know your head is light and sometimes your legs wobble under you when you try to walk.

You sigh deeply, lifting the bottle of expensive champagne you’ve been carrying around to your lips before passing it on to Steve, who accepts it and immediately takes a swig before twisting the bottle into the sand between you.

Wanda squeals when Bucky wraps his arms under her knees before running out into the water, Sam and Natasha right on their heels, spurring the brunette on and taking pictures and videos.

You throw yourself back onto the ground, not caring about the sand that clings to your exposed shoulders or your hair. “So, she left you, huh?” Your words are lazy, barely any emphasis on vowels and consonants, but Steve seems to understand.

“Yeah.”

“Just like that?” you ask into the night air, the stars barely pushing through the inky black sky full of pollution. The moon is somewhere around here, too, but you can’t find it.

“Just like that.” He’s devastated, heart aching, voice cracking, and you feel for him, you do.

“Love is hard,” you tell him, hardly sparing him a glance. You probably should. If you saw his wrecked expression, you’d probably have shut up and joined your friends in their fun. “But she knew what she wanted, Stevie, you can’t fault her for that.”

Laughter from the crashing waves reaches your ears, Natasha calls out your name and you only raise a hand in response and wave her away. She continues whining, but something or someone steals her attention and your name is no longer being called.

“I know,” he says after a moment as he lays down next to you.

“I think she saved you from a much worse fate.”

“And that is?” He’s skeptical. You don’t blame him. Steve seems like the romantic type from how tenderly he spoke about Shannon—wait, that’s not it… Cher? Sharon? Ah, who cares!

“Being in a loveless marriage,” you tell him softly, your mind clearing as you think about your childhood, about your failed relationships, about every single love story that has fallen like a broken bridge crashing into a river. “Imagine giving her your all, but then realizing that maybe you weren’t meant to be and you end up stuck and miserable?” You turn to him. “And your kids are stuck and miserable with you? That’s worse. Because it’s no longer just about you and her, now there’s these tiny little people who are relying on you, but instead of helping them, you’re hurting them.”

“You don’t know that.”

You blink slowly, taking in the harsh glare he’s sending your way. You smile. “Before you asked Sharon to marry you, did you ever talk about marriage? Kids?”

His glare melts and something else takes its place—hesitance. “...no.”

You raise an eyebrow as if to say—see. He turns away. “She loved you, probably still does, but the things you wanted weren't in the cards for her. Probably never will be.” You return your stare to the sky. “She’s chasing something else, something she wants more. Most people are.”

He sits up and takes out the bottle from the sand to drink from it. “What about you?” You hum in question. “Are you chasing something, too?”

“No,” you answer truthfully, moving your gaze to him only to find him staring back down at you with those blue eyes glittering brighter than any clear ocean, hotter than any fire. “I’m running away.”

His eyebrows furrow and you have the urge to reach out and smooth out the tension, but you don’t. “Why?”

“Because love isn’t just hard. It’s scary and I’ve seen and been through enough disappointment in my life to know that it's capable of breaking me into tiny little pieces.” Your hand rests on your stomach. “I don’t want to hurt an innocent because their dad and I couldn’t play nice. I don’t want to hurt them like I’ve been—“ you swallow and the breeze enters your lungs, filling you with a coldness that you try to push out with an exhale. “Like I’ve been hurt.”

He frowns and you sit up, taking the bottle from his hands to chug down the bubbly liquid that burns your throat, but you don’t care. “How do you know that if you don’t take a chance?” You pause in your drinking, his stern voice causing a shiver to run down your spine. “You’re telling me that it’s great that Sharon spared me the pain in the long run and maybe you’re right. But the pain that I’m feeling? The pain you’re running from? It’s a reminder that we’re human, that we can grow from it. That we love strongly.

“I took a chance with Sharon, and I don’t regret it.” Your hand trembles at the defiance in his voice and you place the bottle back in the sand. “It hurts, sure. And it’ll probably hurt for a long while, and that’s okay. But one day. One day I know I’ll find someone who’ll accept my love and they’ll return it, and it might not be perfect, we’ll fight and maybe we’ll hurt each other, but at the end of the day, we’ll work through it together. We’ll meet halfway.”

Wanda screams your name and Bucky calls for Steve, but your gaze is trapped by the intensity in his eyes.

“Love is hard and painful,” he concedes. “But it’s also beautiful and magical. And I hope one day, you’ll take the chance to discover the beauty of love.”

Your mouth hangs open and you both stare at each other, the calls of your name drowned out by the waves of the ocean, by the heat of his eyes, and the alcohol strumming in your veins.

Hands wrap around your wrist and they’re tugging you to your feet—“let's go! Come on! Sam got more booze!”

Steve stays sitting on the sand as Natasha pulls you along with her, a bottle of something stronger thrusted into your hands, but your eyes never leave Steve’s form. Not one your friends are chanting for you to chug down the tequila, not when your mind is hazy, not when you’re in the water, laughing as you and Wanda struggle to stay upright, not when you take his hand and you fall back into the water.

Not when you ask him to kiss you. Not when you tell him to take you to bed. And not when he’s touching you so softly, so tenderly and so—so lovingly that all you can do is cry out his name as you mold to his body and become one.

Love is difficult; love is hard.

But he was right.

Love can be so much more; and you don’t regret taking your chance on Steve. You never will.

epilogue

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[the-fitsquad]

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