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#there are more people i need to talk about
nothorses · 3 days
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thinking about how my mom spent like 2 years getting downright vicious about the houseless folks who were camping in the woods past her house (to the point of getting a BB rifle that looked like a real fucking gun to threaten them with when they crossed in front of her house??) and justifying it with White Lady Fear a la "what if one of them does something to me! I am but a helpless white woman living all alone!!" and like...
y'all, she terrorized those people. every single time she saw someone outside, she was riling her dog up to bark, waving a gun in their faces (that for all intents & purposes they certainly thought was real), yelling at them, calling the cops (thank god the 2 rural-ass cops didn't actually give a shit), etc.
and she justified it with fears of womanly fragility & inability to defend herself, and I believe how afraid she was! she talked about fearing they would break into her house at night and sexually assault her, and I believe she was legitimately afraid of that. she's been victimized in many of the ways she was afraid of being victimized by them.
the thing is that it doesn't matter how real the fear is.
nothing ever happened, nobody ever tried to threaten her, nobody tried to break in, nobody even approached her. she initiated every single interaction. when she told them not to go through her yard, they did the best they could to respect that without giving up their camping spot; which was on someone else's property, who didn't mind them being there (not to mention one of them is actually indigenous to this specific land!)
she was a thousand times more threatening to those people than they ever were to her, but her fear of them was still real. and that's exactly what made her so dangerous.
I need cis women to internalize this ASAP. your fear is real, and it can and will hurt others. your fear is real, and it is harmful. your fear is real, and your hurt is not deserved, and you still need to grow & heal & prevent it from causing harm.
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lxnarphase · 2 days
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As a society we need to appreciate Suguru fingerfucking fem!reader as if it was nothing but an everyday task.
yes i have an indifference kink.
━━ ❝ INCOMING CALL : S. GOJO!!! ❞
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☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru isn't going to let a phone call interrupt his wrist work out, especially when he realizes who's calling
☾₊‧⁺...cw : suguru geto x fem!reader ft. satoru gojo, smut, fingerfucking, pre-established relationship, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dirty talk, begging, suguru and satoru being perverts, suguru is a bad influence
☾₊‧⁺...a/n : mmm iM A FREAK !!! sorry i couldnt help but throw gojo in there too for a lil extraness so i hope u like it, suguru is just a big meanie but i love it
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"oh, satoru's calling."
beep.
"hey, satoru, what's up?"
he was annoying. so, so, SO annoying.
only suguru would have the fucking nerve to whine and beg for you to leave the comfort of your soft sheets on the bed on your rest day to sit on the couch next to him while he watches some game show.
only suguru would pat your thighs, muttering a little 'open up, baby' without taking his eyes off the screen, acting as if he's more into it than you.
only suguru would smirk as he slips his fingers inside your soft pussy, humming as he slowly feels you begin to soak his fingers, teasing you on how quickly you get wet for him.
and only suguru would answer his fucking phone to gojo satoru of all people while he plays with your pussy.
"ehhh? you want to come over? but you were just here this morning," suguru hums into the phone, acting as if his fingers aren't swirling circles into your clit. it's so unfair, he's so good with his hands that you aren't sure how you're gonna be able to stay quiet. satoru never knew when to shut up, especially on the phone.
"aww, but i didn't get to see pipsqueak today!"
that makes you huff, annoyance crossing your features. you were not that small! satoru and suguru were just! abnormally tall!
before you can even mutter a snide comment, suguru slips his fingers back into you, smirking when you gasp so sweetly. your gushing all over his slender fingers and he's relishing the tight heat that envelops him.
"aww, satoru," suguru fucking purrs into the phone, not missing the way satoru's teasing comments pause for a moment nor the way you shook him a look. you know that tone, you know it better than anyone.
suguru is up to no fucking good.
"you're right, you did miss her. poor thing was so tired from last night, she needed to sleep in." suguru's focus is back on the TV, voice mischievous as he picks up pace with his finger, wanting to see if he could get you to crack.
"s-sugu," you whimper, a hand coming to cover your mouth. you didn't want to get too loud, the embarrassment of satoru possibly hearing you sounding worse than death. suguru nearly groaned into the phone, feeling how you squeezed on him.
"awww, baby, thinkin' about satoru hearing you is getting you this wet? hm?"
suguru's grip on your thigh to keep you spread for him is firm, his fingers digging into your soft skin as he holds you in place. it's so unfair how he continues to multitask so effortlessly, his phone in his other hand away from his face so he can say such filthy things to you.
it's unfair because it's just making you wetter.
"it's so cute how you get so wet for me, soaking my hand just from two fingers...now shh, baby, i gotta talk to satoru," he coos at you, leaning over to press a sweet kiss to your cheek, like he's not fucking your cunt open with those slender digits of his.
without hesitation, he maneuvers his fingers deeper into the plush, wet heat of your pussy, curling them in a way that made your body arch instinctively as he brings his phone back to his ear, talking to satoru like nothing is happening.
while satoru continues to talk suguru's ear off, you are struggling so bad. it's hard to stay quiet with the way he's touching you. you don't get it, why is he still on the phone? each stroke of his stupid fingers keeps you wound up, unable to think properly, which lets to a sweet whimper leaving you before you can stop it.
"shhh, keep it down, baby," suguru whispers, leaning closer to you, his breath hot against your cheek. "we don't want satoru to hear what a naughty little slut you're being for me, would we?" he's so cruel, his words only making you shiver at the thrill of the situation. feeling you clench on his fingers, he hums curouisly. "oh..? maybe you do. you wanna have satoru hear you get your pussy played with?"
you shake your head, not wanting to deal with the endless teasing from suguru and satoru from being in this situation. but while you was keeping your mouth shut, your pussy betrays you. you're so wet, the sounds of your cunt gushing and sloshing around his fingers start to get picked up by the phone, and satoru noticed.
he could fucking hear the wet slick noises of suguru's fingers messing up your soft slit, and the sound stuns him into silence. he glups, something suguru hears and can't help but smirk about.
he's got the both of you exactly where he wants you.
after a few moments of silence, satoru clears his throat.
"i-is, uh...is she there?"
he's...he's curious, so curious to see if suguru will keep playing this game, keep pretending like he's not fucking you open with his fingers so good that he can hear it through the phone. shit, he's getting so hard from this, he feels like a fucking perv.
suguru's eyes flash with something dangerous at satoru's shaky words, his smirk turning almost evil. you want to glare at him, do something for putting you in such an embarrassing situation, but you just can't. not with how good he's making you feel and how the thought of satoru hearing you makes your walls clamp on his fingers.
suguru maintains his composure, fingers never faltering their movements in and out of your dripping cunt. "mm, i dunno, satoru, what do you think," he asks coolly, his voice a seductive blend of mockery and affection.
"suguruuu, h-he's gonna hear me," you whimper as your arm reaches out to grip his wrist, trying to stop his fingers from moving anymore. it was so messy sounding, your face was on fire. god, why did you have to get so wet from suguru being so mean?!
your breaths come in ragged gasps, hips moving instinctively against suguru's hand, unconsciously seeking more. you just can't help it, he's playing with your pussy so good, it's making your brain mushy.
the squelching sound of your slick wetness is unmistakable to satoru. on the other side of the phone, he's got his phone squished against his ear as much as possible, desperate to hear all of your noises. he's...he's hard, but he can't touch, not yet, he doesn't want any distractions from this.
"fuck, i-i can hear her, suguru...i-is she really wet?"
"mhm. she's dripping, 'toru, all over the couch."
without missing a beat, suguru moves the phone closer to you, continuing work his fingers inside your dripping slit. if you say anything, he'd just smirk at you and say he's just repositioning so his hand doesn't hurt.
but you know he's moving it closer to give satoru a better chance of hearing all your noises. and it just makes you squeeze on his fingers, your juices dripping down his wrist.
"here, angel. talk to satoru for me, yeah?"
...oh, what the hell?
your brain is already fucking melting out of your ears, you don't even think about what would happen if you take the phone. your hand trembles as you take the phone, the other hand clutching at the couch cushions for support.
the moment you bring the phone to you, you can hear satoru's excited breathing, the anticipation practically radiating through the speaker.
"h-hi, satoru..." you manage to greet him, voice breaking as suguru finds another sensitive spot within you, his free hand now pressing down on your tummy as he really starts to fuck you with his fingers.
"h-hey, sweet thing," satoru tries to purr, but it just comes out like a desperate sigh, a mix of curiosity and arousal clear in his tone. "you...you sound so pretty..."
suguru doesn't relent for a moment, his pretty fingers plunging and twisting inside you. sure, he wants you to be able to talk to satoru, but that doesn't mean you have to be incoherent. no, he wants you to be unable to hold back those moans from him.
who cares if his best friend is on the other line?
"c'mon, princess, tell him how you're feelin'," suguru whispers into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "let him know how good 'm makin' your pretty pussy feel right now."
his voice sounds so good in your ear, your grip on the phone tightening as you try to hold onto the last shred of your composure.
"s-sugu, don't talk t' me like that, fuck, 's so embarrassing..."
he knows you don't mean it, not when he feels your gummy walls clench on him like that. you like it, you like when he's mean, when he makes you talk to him and tell him how good he's making you feel. but it feels even better because you know satoru is gonna hear how good suguru, his best friend, makes you feel with just his fingers.
the sensation of suguru's fingers, slick and sticky with your arousal, moving relentlessly inside your soft pussy and pressing against that fucking spot that makes you gush all over his hands, is making having any coherent thought nearly impossible.
"s-suguruuu, i-i can't, 'm gonna—!"
on the other end, satoru bites his lip to muffle his groan, the mental image of the scene flashing in his mind. his mind is going blank as the wet sounds of his best friend's fingers and your labored breaths and broken little moans fills his ears.
but then, they stop.
you let out the prettiest little moan and satoru feel his cock throb in his sweats, the feeling of precum leaking out making him shiver.
god, he wants to hear you like that all the time...
"s-suguru, why'd you—?"
"are you coming over or not, satoru? wouldn't you rather see her than hear her? if you come over, i'll teach you how t' make her squirt."
that seems to be all it takes to get him to keen, a high pitched and pathetic whimper coming from satoru's end of the call. who knew suguru could get the strongest to make such a sound just from a simple set of words?
"i'm on my way right now, please, don't let her cum without me there."
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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forbidden-sunlight · 2 days
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yandere!ceo with villainess!reader [part three]
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warnings: mentions of infidelity, non-consensual surveillance, delusional and obsessive thoughts, workplace toxicity, verbal abuse or harassment
There might be potential triggers in this piece. If you do not feel comfortable with reading it, please hit the 'back' button on your phone or laptop and find something much more pleasant to read than a potential series of unfortunate events. You are responsible for your own Internet consumption.
Reblog to support content creators ❤️
Hey guys and welcome back to part three of this series, created in collaboration with the talented @deathmetalunicorn1! I know a lot of people have asked for this next segment, and it is finished after a lot of edits and two rough drafts back-to-back!
Just so everyone knows, I am going to be focused on another project starting in June, so please be patient in the meantime and do not flood my inbox with requests or asks as to when the finale of this series will be posted.
Now that this little announcement is out of the way, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show :)
Part One
Part Two
You could not wait to have your first sip of caffeinated bliss since seven o’clock this morning when you left for the office. The presentation was almost finished, all it needed were a few more checks on some references after a much-needed lunch break. The catering company had texted you that the foodstuff had already been delivered to your department as soon as you walked inside  the coffee shop. You were about to send a review for their business when a notification on another app popped it. The purple app  with a clapperboard icon that only you could see because it was directly connected to Being X. This was how you received the viewer ratings for each episode so far. But…why were the results for this episode already in? Shouldn’t it have happened until later? 
Swallowing the lump in your throat, your shaking pointer finger tapped it. A creme-colored screen appeared with the words congratulations, congratulations, congratulations written in bold cursive lettering. Beneath it were numbers. Stats about the ratings.
You quickly scanned them, seeing that today’s episodes had exceeded the requirements to move forward with the next segment and not a reset with negative comments from the audience or a sarcastic message from Being X to have better luck next time on the fifth loop and a smiling emoji at the end. But why and how did this even happen when you just arrived on the set?
“YEO JUNG-HWA, HOW COULD TALK TO ME LIKE THAT?! YOU’RE EMBARRASSING ME!”
Ah. You would recognize that voice anywhere. Hyeung Mun-Hee. Of course she is having a clandestine with the male lead instead of answering her phone to come into work and help out with the project after her lover pushed the deadline to Monday morning instead of next month. But raising her voice in public, and from what it sounds like, she’s actually arguing with him? Well  seeing the two main actors in this drama world having a spat when their chemistry is supposed to be flawless and the epitome of true love would rank in high ratings. If they saw the villainess catching her fiance in the act of seeing another woman behind her back and pouring hot coffee over the female lead’s head, the act wouldn’t reap even half of these glowing online comments that keep popping up every few minutes. 
“I have an order for Park ready?”
The universe is smiling down on you today. 
You thanked the barista profusely as he carefully handed you one of the coffee holders, asking if you’d like help with carrying everything to your car. You gladly took up on his offer, secretly slipping a tip into his hand afterwards before heading back to the office. 
By four o’clock, the quarterly income statements were triple-checked and emailed off to Yeo Jung-Hwa. Tomorrow’s workload included the inspection of the company’s financial software, and the firewalls with the head of the IT Department. 
All the more reason to be lazy for the rest of your Saturday, curling up in some blankets and comfy clothes,  watching a cooking show to pass the time until Caretaker Lee knocked your door, informing you that dinner was ready. You immediately followed her downstairs to the dining room, seeing everyone else in the Park family waiting for you with warm smiles. 
The evening’s dish was bibimbap, a bowl consisting of meat, vegetables, and white rice. The side dishes with sliced green onions and kimchi. Small talk was exchanged between glasses of wine and bites of Caretaker Lee’s delicious meal. 
Your younger brother wasn’t quite ready to have alcohol yet despite his claims that he is of age to drink. Your mother shared a funny story she heard about at the salon. Your father rarely said a word during dinner, but the loving gaze in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. Sometimes you hoped that all of it was real….but having too much hope will only make someone go insane. And you had no intention of being trapped in this hellhole for another loop. Being X? Fuck you. 
The rest of the weekend went by in the blink of an eye. Everything went well, and you attached a copy of the inspection reports in another email to the male lead before finally falling asleep at almost midnight. 
You couldn’t be blamed for being a bit cranky on Monday morning after arriving at the office with a large to-go mug of coffee in hand. At least you hoped so. You were not in the mood for any drama, and your team seemed to pick up on the vibes very quickly, diving into their tasks and only asking you questions if it was absolutely necessary. 
 For someone who skipped out on work this past weekend, Hyeung Mun-Hee looked like shit. She kept looking at her phone more often than usual with a crazed look in her eyes, biting her thumbnail until it bled. Wow. Okay, the fight with the male lead definitely bothered her a lot. Maybe it’s because it was the first argument she ever had with him?
You did not know and did not have the energy to care. You preferred to channel it into being productive and as polite as possible, especially when your face popped up on the online meeting with all the other heads, including Yeo Jung-Hwa. To your surprise, he had nothing but high praise for your team, promising to bestow a proper reward for their hard work. 
Funny how he didn’t mention Hyeung Mun-Hee at all or accused you of stealing the credit since he knew she wasn’t in the office helping with crunching numbers and running tests on the software. 
The male lead is actually not being a total dumbass in a time loop. What are the odds of that actually happening? 
Regardless, the day ended on a pleasant note and you decided to treat yourself to a pastry on the way back home. But as you waited in the drive thru, your phone binged with a text notification while you were scrolling through some reels for knitting ideas. It was from Yeo Jung-Hwa. He wanted you to join him for dinner on Friday evening. If it didn’t work for you, he is available on Saturday afternoon for lunch. 
The place would be entirely up to you. You know his preferences, so he isn’t too worried that you would make a mistake. At this point you weren’t sure if he’s complimenting your powers of observation or it was some backhanded insult.
No matter how much you wanted to delete the message and pretend that you never received it, refusing the male lead’s invitation is also a bad idea because you were stuck playing the role of Park Seo-yun, his fiancée who is supposed to be head over heels in love with him. If the real one were here instead of you, she would immediately jump at the chance to reclaim his affection before her engagement could be annulled. 
The car behind yours honked and you saw that the drive thru was clear. You quickly drove up to it, placing your order in, then headed to the window. A few minutes later you had your treat in hand but you didn’t take a left and merged with the traffic heading towards home. Instead you parked your vehicle in the adjacent lot and glanced down at the text again. You didn’t want to sound like a teenage girl, and responding in a cold, professional tone would probably piss him off or lower the audience ratings. After some deliberation, you decided to settle for the following message:
 All right, if that’s what you want. How about the Lotus Pavilion? I heard it’s really good but haven’t had the chance to go there. What do you think? 🌸 😊
The Lotus Pavilion is a five-star restaurant that not only boasts of a fine dining experience for the wealthy to enjoy at their behest, it’s also where Yeo Jung-Hwa frequently visit during the drama with the excuse that it is close to the male lead’s home, which is complete bullshit because Park Seo-yun in the original script got kicked out of their VIP list for inappropriate behavior; what really happened is that she caused a scene after catching Yeo Jung-Hwa and Hyeung Mun-Hee sitting together, calling them out on their affair, and the establishment wanted no connection to such a scandal. 
Since you got booted from there in the previous loops, why not see what this place has to offer for this world’s villainess who hasn’t caught on to her fiancé’s philandering behavior yet? 
 It would be interesting if anyone realized that the male lead’s usual companion wasn’t with him that night~. 
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Yeo Jung-Hwa was simultaneously startled and ashamed to see the name of the restaurant you had wanted to go to. The Lotus Pavilion? It wasn’t too bad, but he knew you wouldn’t like the elitism atmosphere at all. You preferred to relax in a cozy cafe or indulge in the home-cooked meals that your housekeeper made. He knows you so well, yet why would you want to go here of all places? That was where he took Hyeung Mun-Hee all of the time!  His eyes widened in realization. Wait. Is it possible that you have been aware of his affair with that woman for this entire time, and you chose not to say a word about it because you were afraid it would affect his reputation just as much as yours? Or that he would call off the engagement so that he could marry Hyeung Mun-Hee?
If he were still an idiot, then yes he would have. But he has changed for the better, and all because he had been suspicious of your behavior. Now he understands that there is more to you than meets the eye and why you’ve chosen to hide your true self from everyone. The business world can be a cruel and unforgiving place to thrive professionally; kindness and generosity in a leader were all well and good, but noblesse oblige did not snuff out the competitors or pay the employees their hard-earned paychecks. 
You possesed intelligence, ambition, integrity, and a strong work ethic. All of the qualities needed in a team leader as well as someone who is to be married into his family in the near future. 
Yeo Jung-Hwa felt his face burn at the idea of seeing you walking down the aisle in a beautiful gown, smiling brightly and eyes shining with happiness. Yes. He will go through with the engagement. He will become your husband and the sole breadwinner so that you wouldn’t have to stress about deadlines or meetings, converting that boundless energy into nurturing your children in a loving home.
But before these fantasies could become a reality, he needed to rebuild the foundation of your relationship. To gain your trust and sever ties completely with Hyeung Mun-Hee. He’s already taken the first step to putting distance between himself and that woman by blocking her phone calls and avoiding her entirely at the office during work hours. It might have only been a day, but it is progress in the right direction. 
The reservations for The Lotus Pavilion were made in less than two minutes with explicit instructions on your food preferences. Failure was not an option or else he would personally speak to the manager about his staff’s lack of training. The maitre’d  stutter over the phone as he tried to reassure him that everything will go according to plan before Yeo Jung-Hwa hung up. Soon, he thought with a smile. Soon everything will be alright again between Park Seo-yun and I and we will be happy. 
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The reservations for The Lotus Pavilion were made in less than two minutes with explicit instructions on your food preferences. Failure was not an option or else he would personally speak to the manager about his staff’s lack of training. The maitre’d  stutter over the phone as he tried to reassure him that everything will go according to plan before Yeo Jung-Hwa hung up. Soon, he thought with a smile. Soon everything will be alright again between Park Seo-yun and I and we will be happy. 
You really wished Friday evening hadn’t come as quickly as it did. The work week went by in a flash, and before you realized what was happening, you had entered the main lobby on the first floor and informed the maitre’d that you were here under the reservation of your dinner companion. Her shocked expression told you everything, much to your chagrin. That son of a bitch made no effort to hide his affair with the female lead in this place, and now that you were with him tonight ...well, this is going to turn into a big mess if you weren’t too careful. There is still the possibility of being kicked out of here for causing a ruckus. 
Question is, will it help the male lead realize that he must break things off with you and put his energy into mending things with Hyeung Mun-Hee?  Couples who can’t communicate their feelings to each other properly are doomed to fail. Moreover, their romance is the driving force behind Love and Fortune. Without these two characters, this world would not exist.
And how you wished for its destruction every goddamned time you were forced to relive these scenes when Being X disapproved of your acting. 
Although the name itself is a bit misleading because the restaurant’s interior design looked nothing like a pavilion from those historical dramas, you did have credit to whoever came up with the idea of planting a cherry blossom tree in the center of the first floor. It wasn’t completely in the way for the kitchen staff or clients, and it gave off an ethereal glow thanks to  the low lighting from the ceiling lamps, almost as if the tree was possessed by a spirit or a goddess of love. 
When the reservation was found, you followed a waiter up the stairs to the second floor and all the way to the back where the VIP section for the Lotus Pavilion’s wealthiest clients could enjoy a peaceful evening away from prying eyes so long as they were willing to pay the fee. Sitting at a table for two with a view of the city was Yeo Jung-Hwa, looking amazing as ever because of plot armor and he’s the male lead. No matter what is going on in this world, he’s always dressed to the nines. If he wants to go out in style then so be it. 
Was the day’s exhaustion catching up to you or did his eyes actually brighten when you made eye contact with him? No. That can’t be right. 
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You said as you gracefully sat down in the leather chair. You thanked the waiter under your breath as he carefully scooted you in before he pulled out a notepad. You ordered ice water and the evening’s special mocktail. Yeo Jung Hwa raised an eyebrow. “No alcohol?” He said after the server disappeared back towards the door. Or was there a bar here? It was too dark to tell. 
You shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it.” You said, folding your hands in your lap. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight? I was certain that you had…other plans.” You watched him swallow thickly, the fingers coiling tighter around the stem of his wine glass before he lifted it to his lips, took a few sips, and set it back down. He then grabbed the menu sitting on his left, offering it to you. 
“Please select what you would like tonight. There is no need to be worried about paying for your own meal. It’s my treat.”
“I would have paid for it even if you had not offered to do so.” You said lightly. “Nor did you answer my question.” You plucked the menu from his outstretched hand, opening it to see the evening’s specials recommended by the chef. “But I suppose that doesn’t matter, does it? That was then, this is now.” You looked up at him with a quirked brow. “Or should I be concerned? I am to be your wife, and any matters regarding the conglomerate could be stressful to the employees, and to you, even myself who is a team leader in the Finance Department.” 
His eyes widened. "Do you need to take any time off?” He asked suddenly. “I will gladly give it to you! You need to take care of yourself!" 
You blinked. Well, that was an answer you had not expected from the cold-hearted CEO of this drama world to say to his villainous fiancee. Suppose you’ll take it with a grain of salt for now? After all, Being X has allowed some leeway in your assigned role. Why wouldn’t the puppetmaster do the same thing for one of his beloved actors? 
“Thank you for your concern.” You said. “If I need to take some time off, I will submit a request in advance so I won’t cause any trouble for the team.” You watched Yeo Jung-Hwa exhale a sigh in relief before he reached for his phone, tapping on it for a few moments before he put it back on the table face down. Then it kept vibrating every couple of minutes until he grabbed it again and presumably shut it off, just right when the waiter came back with drinks. Yeo Jung-Hwa ordered a Hanwoo steak with rice, steamed vegetables and an American side salad. You asked for the same thing, but requested a thicker slice of the meat and doubled the size of the side dishes, if the chef would be so kind as to do that. Also dessert. You couldn’t top off a meal without something sweet, and everything looked delicious. You were pretty hungry after working hard today~. 
 "Are you really going to eat all that? Wouldn't you like something lighter?" 
You paused, turning towards Yeo Jung-Hwa in astonishment. Did…he really just say that? This son of a bitch actually has the fucking nerve to make a comment like that in public? Humiliation and anger boiled in your veins simultaneously, and you could hear the other patrons whispering. Their assumptions, their spiteful comments, even how Yeo Jung-Hwa is engaged to a glutton instead of one of their daughters. Unbelievable.
You inhaled a deep breath through your nose, and exhaled through your mouth before you looked back at the waiter with a tight smile. “If it’s all right, could you put my order in a carry-out box?” You flashed a black card at him. “The fees won’t be an issue, and I’ll add an extra tip to you and the staff for accommodating me.”
“Wait, what are you-”
“I am going home to enjoy my meal without being judged.” You said icily, your smile still stretched across your lips. “I will not apologize for ordering as much food as I am because I did not have much time today to enjoy my lunch, no thanks to an emergency meeting that you arranged and taking Hyeung Mun-Hee aside in my office as she is being negligent of her work again. Even after I gave her a lecture, she still had the nerve to believe I was bullying her, and said I would be the one on her knees begging for forgiveness once her lover had heard about it. Tell me Yeo Jung-Hwa, who in the world would put such thoughts into her mind?” You laced your hands together, resting your elbows on the table. “As my supervisor, I am asking for advice as to how I should discipline her.” 
“....”
“Well, thank you for a lovely evening, Yeo Jung-Hwa. I’ll see on Monday morning.” You said, taking the plastic bag from the waiter who had returned your card. You shoved the card in your purse and left the restaurant. You heard him call out to you, but you ignored him and unlocked your vehicle. Your arm would have been grabbed a second sooner if you didn’t quicken your pace, opening and slamming the driver’s side. You turned on the engine and drove off into the night towards home. Well, your temporary sanctuary anyway. 
About an hour later you had retreated to your room, brushing off your father’s concern for the tears that were trickling down your face in favor of a much needed self-care session. A hot bath with burning incense and music playing in the background, comfortable clothes, and your meal that you hadn’t gotten a chance to try. Caretaker Lee was kind enough to deliver it on a silver tray with a steaming cup of hot cocoa next to your dessert. She always knew how to make you feel better and unashamed of who you are.
 A complete contrast to a certain someone who hasn’t stopped texting or leaving you voicemails when you’ve refused to pick your phone. Asshole. 
Frustrated and hungry, you unlocked your device and shut it off. You threw it on the bed and turned on the television, tray on your lap and your attention now glued to the opening credits of a high stakes baking competition. 
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Yeo Jung-Hwa  was embarrassed with how you acted this evening. Why were you so mad? Yes, he knew you had a big appetite but he did not know that you had skipped lunch because he can’t install cameras in your office! 
And why would Hyeung Mun-Hee say something like that to you?! Is she trying to broadcast their relationship to the conglomerate when he’s told her to keep her mouth shut about it? If it’s known that he, the leader of his family’s empire and an engaged man is having an affair, the stocks would plummet! He would be ruined, you would be ruined!
Can’t she understand that I do want to mend our relationship, and she has the nerve to walk out on me like that?! He thought, anger swelling up inside of him and ready to burst from his chest as he lifted his hands to card through his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. God, he needed a stiff drink after this fiasco. 
He informed the server to put his food in a carry-out box as well, paying for the meal that he didn’t get to enjoy while trying very hard to ignore the other patrons as they whispered to each other about what they had seen tonight. The scene you had caused. 
He returned home, ate his meal and retreated to his office with a second drink in his hand. He booted up the computer and tapped into the camera feed. Yeo Jung-Hwa’s heart lurched uncomfortably. He had expected you to be asleep or reading or kitting or watching television, not crying in your father’s arms!
Yeo Jung-Hwa leaned back in his leather chair, widened violet eyes unable to tear away from the screen as he watched your shoulders tremble in your father’s embrace. The head of the Park family rocked you back and forth, whispering softly in your hair. Gone is the fearless leader and in his place is a loving, concerned parent. Someone he wanted to be after having children with you…but was that even possible now?
He hadn’t meant to upset you, to make you cry. His mind was now clear, all of the anger gone and out of his system. In retrospect, you were not wrong with how you acted. He was the one who acted inappropriately, making a callous comment about your appetite when he hadn’t meant to say it as an insult. It was an honest slip of the tongue! 
His hands trembled, now suddenly terrified that your father would be the one to call off the engagement and arrange you to marry someone else. No. No, that couldn’t happen! He wanted to be with you! He wanted to make this relationship work!
He exhaled a shaky breath, taking another swing from his glass before he set down on the table. When he did so, his phone chimed with a notification. Another phone call from Hyeung Mun-Hee. 
His thumb swiped across the screen as he declined the call and turned his attention back to you and your father, praying that his worst nightmare would not be made a reality on Monday morning. 
That he still had a chance to make things right. 
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“Am I overreacting? Did you not hear me when I said he took that woman to our favorite restaurant, and she made a scene?! It’s a good thing no one actually posted a video about it, and I heard about this incident from a reliable source, or the situation could have been a lot worse! What? No! No, this will not be a determinant to our plans. Have a little faith in me! I need to go. I have an important call to make. I’ll see you soon.” 
Taglist: @suiana @f4turemom @ixchelhernandez4 @sleep-all-day-everyday @the-cat-queen-peasants @slowlyswimmingmoon @obsessedwithromance @mochinon-yah @cerisearan @julietdelamare @nunezs-stuff @sourlove @yandere-writer-momo @yandere-dark-cupid @persephone-kore-law @faux-ecrivain @cassanderasblog @marooseshawnash @diannaflight @tonightwrites @majestichugs @detectivesparrow @beardedblizzardexpert @valeriinee @vee-love @vivyolite @somerandomdere @ghostdoodlen @tired-of-life-86 @hotnbloodied @yourdoorisunlocked @stingywiththeirusername @lanxianschoenheit @witch-of-the-writing-desk @victoria1676 @lu-zo-san @facelessfionna @dreamlessnight @c4xcocoa @ozzgin @aiimee9 @solandis-does-stuff @sarcastic-cookie @reiivven @reallysparklychaos and anyone else I might have forgotten because this list got so long since the last update. Thank you so much for your support!
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drdemonprince · 3 days
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just like going through the members of my family and my friend groups one by one, i can't think a single damn person i know who does not have a disability. ARFID. Autism. Metal rod in the spine. Arthritis. Cancer in remission. Long-term effects of repeated concussions. Bad back. Exhaustion. Crohn's. EDS. More Autism and ADHD. Migraines. Periods that lay them out for a week. Chronic depression. Alcoholism. Bipolar. Cataracts.
I do not know a single person who is not disabled, typically in multiple ways, and we all face increased disability as a natural consequence of aging. Literally every person on the planet becomes disabled on a long enough timeline. Yet we still talk about disability and organize around it as if it isn't social, economic, and contextual. people treat disability as an innate quality that some people have and some people do not have, and as if there is some large class of intrinsically abled people who are benefiting under capitalism and are withholding the fruits of their abilities from us or something.
i saw this post on twitter months ago that was like "I need people to understand that if you are in a relationship with a disabled person you are going to have to do more than them. you're not disabled and so you're going to have to do more of the work (around the house, logisticially, etc). that is what you owe them as an abled person."
and it just baffled me. because i have only ever seen disabled people in relationships with other disabled people, caring for one another in a stitched-together, messy web of interdependence and missed deadlines and dirty dishes and acceptance and love, not because disabled people are ontologically more generous than non-disabled people but because non-disabled people don't even actually exist.
the mythological abled person who can work a full time job, keep a clean home, do all the dishes, buy all the groceries, cook all the meals, run all the errands, stay on top of all the bills, carry everything, dash up the stairs, stand on their feet for hours, and have boundless energy without any mental consequences to that does not exist. it's an ideal created to oppress us all. it is an impossible standard the reification of which disables us all.
there is no one on this planet who is not disabled under capitalism and colonialism. there are only people who lack the class consciousness to recognize that they're disabled.
it's gonna have to be us taking care of one another. it's going to be the disabled caring for the disabled. it always will be that. that is the human condition.
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fefern · 3 days
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How about some jealous headcannons for jiyan, calcaro and scar? Do they even get jealous at all? I just think about how I would flirt with them all, Rover is stronger than me. Anyway, have a lovely day ❣️
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✧˖° when they're jealous. | jiyan, calcharo, and scar headcanons.
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: jealousy, jealousy...or whatever that oliva rodrigo song is. what's it like when these wuwa men are feeling a bit jealous?
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved (separate): jiyan, calcharo, scar, and gender neutral reader.
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none!
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hi sweet anon!! thank you for requesting! hope you enjoy these jealousy hcs, i hope i did you justice since i'm not a very jealous person myself > <;;!! requests are open, and all nsfw asks can be sent to @jiayouqi!
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ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅ jiyan ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
the general of the midnight rangers is a pretty tough guy; he understands that you’re a sight for sore eyes, so of course people are going to look at you. 
i don’t imagine him getting very jealous, he knows that you can handle your own and trusts that you wouldn’t flirt back with any of the people that try to hit on you.
but, if someone’s flirting with you for longer than a few minutes, or you’re looking uncomfortable, he’s quick to stir into action.
after all, you’re his partner, no one gets to flirt with or dote on you except him. 
will smoothly slip a hand around your waist, give a quick glance at whoever’s hitting on you, and usually one look is enough to drive anyone away since he’s in a position of power in jinzhou. 
if for some reason they’re stupid enough to fight back on him, that’s when he’s quick to snap back, mentioning how you’re his beloved and to back off. 
jiyan will always turn to you and ask if you’re okay after anyone flirts with you, wanting to make sure you’re not uncomfortable.
he’s kind of like a dragon in that sense, guarding his lovely treasure with a level of protectiveness. 
he sometimes gets jealous also when you’re gone for long period of time or vice versa, because he loves spending quality time with you and being unable to do so makes him jealous of those who can spend more time with you.
after he’s done being jealous, the feelings subside quickly and he quietly will hold your hand for a while, as if to let people know to back off. 
overall jealousy score: 4/10, not easy to stir to jealousy but will be protective and stand up for you if you need him to. knows you can handle your own and that you’re strong enough to deal with the situation. 
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅ scar ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
very vocal about when he’s jealous, the opposite of jiyan.
“BABEEEEE come on pay attention to me please please please,” puppy vibes
he loves having your attention, so when you’re getting flirted with or your attention is elsewhere, he gets very pouty very fast. 
you’re meant to only have eyes on him! how can you be talking to someone else?
“love why were you talking with them and not me? :c” “scar that was a child-”
if someone has the guts to flirt with you while he’s around, he’s there in a flash and stands behind you protectively like a bodyguard. 
very confrontational. he’ll tell them that you’re taken and that you have the best boyfriend in the world so he suggests they piss off. 
will not hesitate to get physical and fight someone if it means protecting you and getting someone to lay off the flirting.
the only way his jealousy will subside is if you give him the attention he wants or tell him to stop getting upset before anything escalates.  
he’ll immediately comply, even if he’s resistant or grumbling about it. 
scar just wants to make sure no one else makes a move on his beloved, and even the simple idea of someone taking you away is enough to make him see red. 
gets clingy when he’s jealous too, always wants to reassure himself that you’re his and his for life. 
overall jealousy score: 10/10, it doesn’t take much to rile him up, and he gets very snappy when anyone even dares to look in your direction. you’re his and his only. some kisses and sweet words of affirmation will calm him down fast though.
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅ calcharo ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
in the middle of the pack when it comes to being jealous. 
the main reason he gets jealous is because of possessiveness, but he’s almost never vocal about it. a silent guardian of you. 
he can control his temper well, but his whole aura changes when someone even gets close to you, and it’s enough for most people to turn away from even flirting with you.
however, one touch from someone other than him and he’s ticked.
quickly grabs their wrist with a strong grip and gives them a deadly look. 
“leave.”
his voice is deep and drips of venom, and if looks could kill, they’d be dead in an instant.
afterwards, he silently will just give you a nod and the two of you will go back to whatever you were doing. 
he gets on the defensive though after someone flirts with you once during an outing, and he’s almost hyper aware of everything going on around him now. 
is also the type of person where, if someone’s persistent with their flirting with you, or if you tell him that you’re uncomfortable with the other person, he’ll simply nod his head in acknowledgement. 
the next day, they’re either dead or seriously injured, and it’s the talk of the town; you know he was the cause of it. 
he won’t mention anything about it unless you say something, and if you do, he’ll huff. 
“no one makes my lover uncomfortable.” 
overall jealousy score: 7/10, not very vocal about it and is level headed, but if someone dares to try and flirt with you, he’ll turn the scene dark fast.
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buckyalpine · 2 days
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I'm here for some angst and fluff rn. Bucky being sad no one trusts him after his metal arm is taken off during a fight.
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Bucky stared at the dark grey metal that fell to the floor with a clank, his vibranium arm no longer attached to his body with just a few pushes to his joint. The fight ended, leaving the soldier lost as he picked his arm off the floor, fingers trembling around the cold material. It felt dead in his hand, the emotional weight of it far heavier than anything else he'd ever carried.
"Did you know they could do that?" Sam asked, eyeing Bucky carefully while he locked his arm in place, readjusting it with a swing. The gold plates shifted to recalibrate, his fingers flexing while trying to silence his thoughts that begin to run a million miles a minute.
"No"
Bucky trudged down the hall, his heart sinking when he could hear the soft humming from inside his apartment, his sweet girl already waiting for him to come home. He usually felt the weight of the world life off his shoulders when you were around.
Not today.
Not when he knew what he really was.
What he had been all along.
He let out a strained breath before rummaging for his keys and opening the door, the smell of tea, sugar and vanilla wafting through the kitchen and living room. He thought about escaping as soon as he toed his boots off, locking himself in the shower and calling it an early night, of course you'd understand but his body won over what his mind was screaming.
Your face lit up as soon as you heard the door creak open, setting down the book you were reading, excited to see Bucky after he'd been gone for days for a mission. Your happiness was short lived as he padded into the living room, the strained smile on his face doing nothing to mask the pain he was feeling. You could see the turmoil in his eyes, waves of emotion crashing over him before he could surface.
"What's wrong, bub" You coo softly, opening your arms for him. Bucky kept his jacket on, avoiding melting into your hold even though he craved it more than ever.
"Do people still think I'm dangerous?" He asks quietly, shifting away from you when he feels you pressed against his arm. Something so soft and sweet as you definitely didn't have any business being near something so terrible, disgusting, murderous-
"What? No baby, why would you say that?" Your heart breaks at the tears that begin to well in his eyes, his nose and cheeks reddening as he suppresses all the emotions that desperately want to bubble over.
"I-I had no idea others would be able to remove it" He whispers, chewing his lip till he nearly draws blood, avoiding your gaze to stare at the floor instead. The fluffy rug turns blurry as tears begin to escape, his throat growing unbearably tight. "M'still a monster" His voice cracks before the first cry slips out.
Your pull him into your chest as sobs begin to wrack his body, letting him lay on you while you wrap him safely in your arms. The feeling of your affection is too much for Bucky, he doesn't deserve it but he needs it; he feels selfish as he allows you to hold him, hiding his face into the crook of your neck.
"What happened, sweet boy" You coo against his hair, running your fingers through his soft locks. He continued to sniffle between whimpers, trying to calm down, fresh waves of emotion holding him down, his metal arm gripping onto the sofa cushions.
His arm was dangerous.
He was dangerous.
"During a fight" Bucky let out a shuddered breath before continuing, shame seeping through his veins. What would you think of him if you knew the people who had healed him still didn't trust him, "We were trying to calm things down. I didn't mean to do anything-I didn't-I was holding back, we wanted to talk things over, she-"
He bit his lip again as it trembled, still feelings the spots that were pushed, sending his arm to the floor, "I didn't even know what was happening. She hit my shoulder in a few spots and my arm fell right off"
You stopped your ministrations, your heart breaking into two hearing the pain in his voice. Bucky sounded so small, like an admonished child scared to tell the truth. He curled himself up further, still flexing his fingers, almost fearful his arm would fall off again without warning. You moved your arms to hug him tighter, wishing you could take away at least half the pain his was feeling.
"I didn't know they could do that" He said with defeat, still softly sniffling while you kissed the top of his head.
"You're not a monster baby" You knew how much work Bucky had put in, how much he struggled to get a hold of his mind again, how long it took for him to learn to trust others, to trust himself.
"Then why" You knew he was desperate hearing the plead in his voice. Why. Why did others still have control over his own body. Why were others still able to do things to him without his knowledge.
Why?
"I wish they'd told you why, baby boy" You brought your hand to gently tip his chin up, making him look at you, "Perhaps they have their reasons. Regardless, your heart is pure, Bucky" Your hands moved under his jacket and tshirt, stroking his bare skin, the feel of your pure hands already soothing his aching heart.
"They don't trust me" He sighed, sitting up again as his mind swirled. You didn't let him spiral for long, straddling his lap while his arms moved on their own to wrap around your waist.
"They do, bub" you shook your head, cupping his cheeks so he'd look at you. "They took you in and healed you because you were worth healing. You deserved it. I need you to remember my sweet Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes is a good man. The opposite of dangerous, a soft, sweet boy"
"Do-do you trust me" His voice was small again, looking at you through his lashes, nervously fidgeting with the hem of the Henley you'd stolen.
"I trust you with my life, Bucky" You took his metal hand, brushing your lips against the gold ridges before kissing each of his cool finger tips. "Every single part of you. Your mind. Your body. All of it"
The mental exhaustion of the day began to take it's toll as his eyes grew heavy, cuddling into you while you rocked him in a comfortable silence. You smiled at the soft snores you heard moments later as Bucky fell asleep in your arms.
"Let's get you to bed, baby" you whispered, gently waking him and taking a quick warm shower before jumping into bed. He was right back in your arms as soon as you pulled the sheets back, the grating voices not so loud any more.
Regardless of what the world though, had you.
A pure sweet angel.
She trusted him.
That had to mean something.
It would be a long road of healing but at least his had his angel to guide him.
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vivelegalite · 2 days
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dear dead boy detective (especially paynland) enjoyers: have you yet heard of the biggest gift bestowed upon the fandom so far, aka jayden's charles playlist? the one he mentioned in interviews? well, he dropped it on twitter at 19th of may. and man, do i have stuff to say about it.
there's a lot of 80's bangers, for sure, great to get into the mood and character, but some of the choices...
i'm gonna focus on a few of my favourites, songs that made me go insane when i saw them. honorable mentions: - category 1 (so devoted the lines blur): ain't no mountain high enough by marvin gaye and tammi terrell, there is a light that never goes out by the smiths, inkpot gods by the amazing devil - category 2 (family life): family line and summer child by conan gray, seventeen going under by sam fender, matilda by harry styles, father by the front bottoms - category 3 (being queer in the 80s): smalltown boy by bronski beat, boys don't cry by the cure - category 4 (there's no heterosexual explanation for this one): good luck, babe! by chappel roan, yellow by coldplay, fight or flight by conan gray (is this about monty? the cat king? i need answers!), the prophecy by taylor swift, arms tonite by mother mother, sweet by cigarettes after sex, head over heels by tears for fears
this list is by no means complete or comprehensive!
and now, the songs that made me go the craziest: (they're predominantly in charles' pov as it's his playlist)
found heaven by conan gray
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the only reason this song made it into the list and not the honorable mentions instead of smalltown boy is that it makes almost the same point, just so much more explicitly. i don't think i have to say much about it, it's a story of a young person griping with their queerness, being forced to leave home, a common theme of the playlist. "you're in love, you found heaven" when he chose edwin over his own afterlife, heavily implied to be heaven, and built his heaven with him on the mortal plane? ouch! (and we see this same notion repeated in another bop from the playlist, heaven is a place on earth by belinda carlisle).
2. like real people do by hozier
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"i miss kissing" charles rowland, 202X romantic meaning aside, the verses show a sort of a common understanding the boys have around the manner of their deaths and their lives before it. we already know from the show they don't really talk about it, with edwin not knowing about the severity of the abuse charles suffered. it feels like one of them saying "let the past be past, we're together now, yeah?". but also, jayden: can there ever be a platonic explanation for this? ghosts can't touch, can't feel, so they wish they could just kiss like "real" (alive?) people do?
3. flaws by bastille
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not the most romantic song, but i absolutely love how well it fits their dynamic. despite his edwardian brand of repression, edwin truly is the one that's more open about his feelings (recognising of course that in this case, the bar is so low it's in hell. haha, get it). edwin has worn his flaws upon his sleeve, and charles has held them buried - eg. bottling up all of his anger and resentment towards his family and his own death. the song presents a very sweet outlook, in which their flaws are brought up to the surface (for example, charles' outburst against the night nurse in episode 4), but they learn to accept them as they are, an extension of themselves.
4. a pearl by mitski
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you know it's gonna get intense if there's a mitski song in the mix.
the song is about a person who finds love in their partner, someone who treats them way better than they've ever been treated - and yet they cannot bring themselves to reciprocate the affection ("it's not that i don't want you, sorry i can't take your touch") despite reciprocating the feelings themselves because of the trauma. charles is known to bottle things up ("you're growing tired of me and all the things i don't talk about"). the person in the song recognises the love the other person holds for them ("you love me so hard and i still can't sleep"), which reminds me of charles' response to edwin's confession. not a "no", but a "maybe, as time passes".
5. fair by the amazing devil
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this one made me genuinely gasp when i first delved into the lyrics. it's simply so sweet, such a genuine and domestic portrayal of love. at first i thought it was way too open about being a love song (normal text instead of the subtext i'd be used to) for jayden to choose it with edwin in mind, but... there's no one else it can really be about. it's far too domestic, too "established" to refer to crystal. refers to a relationship that's laster for a longer while.
the narrator in the first verse is a person deeply in love with the other person, someone who loves to make his lover laugh and simply drinks in their presence. the "he" in the song i believe is charles, while the "she" refers to edwin. edwin promises to fight off anyone - or any feelings pulling charles down (we can see this in the first episode: "you ever think... what if death did catch us? she'd force us to go to the afterlife and split up" "i will make sure this never happens."). charles feels left behind by the world (seeing as he clings to crystal at first, refering to her as "someone their age who's still alive") and believes edwin to be so much stronger than he's ever been. i'm not going to break down the song verse by verse, but if you read it yourself while subbing out "he" for charles and "she" for edwin you'll see just how sweet (and... strangely very in character?) the song is.
6. work song by hozier
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if the previous song made me gasp when i saw the lyrics, this one made me go "NO WAY" out loud when i saw the title. the first one verse is just pure toothrotting sweetness, but the chorus is what i want to draw attention to:
when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold, dark earth no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her
HELLO? charles, who keeps escaping death and afterlife to be able to stay with edwin? charles, as he literally takes his last breath with edwin right there, choosing to be by his side rather than move on? charles, who keeps choosing him despite night nurse's promises and threats? charles, who literally crawled through hell for him?
verse 2, to me, can be interpreted as referring to when charles died. edwin found him at his worst, and he "woke" up with his presence comforting him. he was shivering due to hypothermia and his injuries. edwin didn't ask him about what happened or pushed him, he simply listened. the lines "i didn't care much how long i lived, but I swear, i thought i dreamed her" are pretty self explanatory.
in verse 3 we still see the same attitude of "damn the afterlife, at least we have each other" as charles portrays througout the series. they're free, and heaven and hell are simply words to him.
7. orpheus by vincent lima
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i literally have no words for this one. it fits too well. if you want commentary for this one, just... i don't know, rewatch the staircase scene.
8. francesca by hozier
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(cracks knuckles) this is the big one. the album francesca is from, unreal unearth, is based on dante alighieri's divine comedy, a fourteenth century poem about a man venturing into hell, purgatory and eventually heaven. the eponymous francesca is one francesca di rimini, a woman who was politically married off to a man older than her, called giovanni malatesta. francesca didn't love him, and eventually fell deep in love with giovanni's younger brother, paolo. the two carried on with the affair for years, before being murdered by giovanni upon his finding out. francesca and paolo are mentioned in canto v of the first book, inferno, as two souls damned in the second circle of hell, lust. their punishment is to be permanently locked in a hurricane, swept away by the winds the moment they manage to get close enough to touch one another.
as opposed to their portrayal in the poem, the song is from the perspective of paolo, explaining that no matter the punishment, he wouldn't change anything about his life because he got to know, and love, francesca.
the first verse brings to mind the scenes in hell, especially on the staircase ("do you think I'd give up? that this might've shook the love from me? or that I was on the brink? how could you think, darlin', i'd scare so easily?" as an echo of charles' "sorry. no version of this where i didn't come get you"). "my life was a storm since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?" could relate to charles' tumultuous family life, an assurance that nothing he has to deal with while by edwin's side will faze him given the things he's lived through. no, despite everything he's suffered through, charles wouldn't do anything differently - because his (admittedly shitty) life led him to edwin ("i'd tell them, put me back in"). we already know charles would choose him over heaven, willingly sacrificing his own afterlife to stay with a boy he's known for hours, someone kind enough to keep him company as he drew his final breath. all of it - his father's abuse, his schoolmates' bigotry, the pain of his own death, as well as everything he's gone through since - he'd do it all again, for edwin.
"for all that was said of where we'd end up at the end of it" could be taken as an allusion to the fate the boys would meet at "at the end of it", when they're finally caught by death and separated, or as more of a general "if you sin, you will go to hell when you die" (up to you to decide what the sin itself would be - an interpretation that would work with other songs on the playlist is that one such sin would be same sex attraction). then their hearts ceased, they never knew "peace", nor did they want to find it in death. their deaths were too soon, them being ripped away from life, but even though it would break his heart: charles would ask to do it all again.
the outro, i think, beautifully pulls it all together: heaven is not fit to house a love like theirs.
to wrap it all up:
jayden, what were you cooking in there? what do you know??
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AITA for being nice to a co-worker who doesn't like men?
I think a girl (20F) at my work doesn't like men. I've been going out of my way to be nice to her and nothing works. AITA? How can I get her to want to talk to me?
I'm 28M and I started at my job about 3 weeks ago. There's this girl, Brandi, I work with sometimes who I really like. I was shy as a kid and I've been trying to come out of my shell more lately, and make an effort with people. Going out of my comfort zone and talk to people, all that. So I decided to try to give Brandi 1 compliment every day I saw her. And it wasn't creep shit like "nice ass" or anything that would make her uncomfortable. Stuff like that she has a pretty smile, or beautiful eyes, or that kind of thing.
But I feel like whenever I do it, she gets kind of weird, and goes away from me. SHE HAS NOT TOLD ME TO STOP or that I make her uncomfortable. She just does kind of a weird smile and says thanks and goes away. I feel like she doesn't want to talk to me at all now. On Friday I even put a little note in the pocket of her jacket. It just said "You look nice today, Brandi!" with a smiley face. I just thought it would be nice and make her smile. She never said anything about it.
I told my sister (26F) about it and Sis said I was being an asshole and should leave Brandi alone. I calmly reminded my sister that SHE HAS NOT TOLD ME TO STOP so why would I need to? My sister didn't have a good answer so she changed the subject and wouldn't talk about Brandi any more.
Then I told my friend (32M) about Brandi, and he said she probably spends too much time on social media where women are being taught to be afraid of all men. It all clicked when he said that, it makes sense. Why else would she act like she doesn't want to be around me or talk to me, when all I do is be nice to her and try to make her happy? I also realized she talks way more to girls than men, and doesn't seem as friendly with them.
AITA for being nice to Brandi? And what can I do to show her not to be afraid of me? I don't know what nice things to say to her that I haven't already said.
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girlokwhatever · 2 days
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gf golden retriever!paige with blackcat!reader 🥺🥺
i love this cause we all know it’s true!!
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golden retriever!paige bueckers x blackcat!gf hcs
🦮₊˚ෆ✰- ,,-‘๑’-🐈‍⬛ golden retriever paige with a black cat gf,,
— she’s attached to your hip AS OFTEN AS POSSIBLE
— she’s very very affectionate verbally and physically
- you accept it with love and appreciation
— she’s always hyper and you have to be the one to tell her to chill a bit
— will do absolutely anything for you
— you are very protective LOL
- “i don’t like the way she’s looking at you babe.”
— you’re also constantly side-eyeing people and it’s not even a joke atp
— she thinks you’re SO SEXXYYY LIKKEE
- you just have that demeanor about you
— she’s lowkey intimidated by you a little
- she knows not to make you mad
— she’ll take you shopping, buy you everything you want, AND carry all your bags
— you’ll be getting dressed up for the club; hair done, nails done, makeup done, outfit sexy and perfect
- she gawks over you the whole time
— she’s a big fan of holding your hand in public
— she also lowkey loves to be little spoon so that she can feel you holding her
— when you argue she gets really worked up and you’re always so calm about it but defo have a dismissive attitude
- you apologize later 🤗
— you highly value alone time or just silence every now and then
- paige is so respectful of your wishes cause she loves you so much so sometimes you two will just read forever and not say anything
— paige buys you guys matching clothes
— LIKE I SAID SHES VERRRYYYY AFFECTIONATE VERBALLY!!!!
- expect compliments every few minutes (every few seconds tbh)
— somehow she always ends up wearing lighter-colored clothes and you’re wearing something dark
— she’s also really attentive towards you
— paige really admires how well you can keep composure in literally any situation
— you’re definitely more introverted, not super talkative with ppl you don’t know
- paige is literally the exact opposite and tries to help bring you out of your shell
— she’s always saying how “mysterious” you are
— she can talk for hours and you’ll just listen
- that dynamic works really well for you two though, neither of you ever complain
— you both feel like you complete each other
- like she’s your other half and you’re hers
— you love giving her hickeys and she loves getting them
— at first it was kind of a struggle just because your personalities are so different
- but you both realized you brought the best out of each other and just need to communicate boundaries and wants
— she wouldn’t trade you for literally anything
— you’re sassy AF
— you actually lost her in the grocery store once cause she wouldn’t leave the tru fru aisle….
— “you look so edible right now i swear. please let me take a picture.”
- “edible paige, really?”
🦮₊˚ෆ✰- ,,-‘๑’-🐈‍⬛
this is a cute trope!!
hope i did it justice 😜🩷😒🩷🩷
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luveline · 18 hours
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Craving a postprison!Spencer x stripper!reader fic, please ma’am.
Maybe she gets a daytime job at a coffee shop or a bookstore - to “supplement her income”/ not have to dance as often (not that she’s ashamed!!) and Spencer is just so proud of her for trying and can’t quit kissing her and praising her because I know in other fics you’ve mentioned she didn’t think anyone would hire her because of her profession/self esteem, plus after prison she didn’t want to dance because she wanted to be with Spencer. 🥺
Or really just anything with a proud Spencer x stripper!reader doing anything.
Your work is fantastic and I’m in love with everything you do!! 💕 thank you and it’s totally okay if you think this request is lame or don’t wanna write it!
thank you angel! —you find a new job while making decisions about your old one after Spencer returns from prison, and Spencer would praise you for breathing, so he’s extremely proud. fem, 1.8k
Statistics differ, but estimates suggest that there are around twenty thousand strippers in Las Vegas. With a population of seven hundred thousand people (estimated up), that means that one in thirty five people living in Las Vegas dances for a living. 
It’s more than you’d think. Spencer knew of plenty of women who worked as strippers, exotic dancers, or private entertainers when he was still living at home. And while the numbers are much smaller in Washington DC where he lives now, it’s far from zero. More surprising for the average person to be one, perhaps, but not for Spencer. 
It used to make him blush like a steam train, sure, but it never did any of the things you were scared of. He’s never looked down on you for it, never been jealous (well, never acted like a jerk because of it), never positioned it as anything other than work. His only complaints are in your concern. You don’t like the club, most of the time. You feel unsafe often. The risk of femicide is yards higher for you as a sex worker than it would be otherwise, but who is Spencer to talk about danger? He still has stitches in his leg. 
Your job used to feel more urgent, a red flashing light above your head, because you’d come around with bruises or cut knees, tear stained cheeks, and you couldn’t make ends meet for all your efforts, but things have changed. You’re reluctant to depend on him, but you’ll accept the help when you need it. Nothing keeps you there if you don’t want to be there, and when you do you’re a marvel. You are beautiful, in Spencer’s eyes. Your dancing when you’re having a good night is one of the prettiest things he’s ever seen —more than pretty, sometimes. A hot coal in his stomach. 
But the fact of the matter is that Spencer’s home, and you don’t want to dance. You haven’t been to the club for weeks as far as he’s aware, and he’d consider himself well informed. You spent all your savings and started spending his instead and he couldn’t care less, what’s his is yours, whatever keeps you aloft while you make whatever decision it is you’re working toward. Not that it presented itself that way. 
I’ll have to go back.
Spencer on his back, you sitting with your head turned from the TV and toward him, your hand on his hip, just resting. Where?
To work. I have enough money for the next two weeks, and then I’m all out. 
Spencer wouldn’t do something as unkind as rolling his eyes, but the point of you moving in was to cement that he’d look after you no matter what. He’d turned his head to you on his pillow and reached for your elbow. You’re still resting. 
You’ve been home for two months, Spencer. I’ve rested enough. I… I only managed this long because you haven’t asked me for anything and that’s not fair, we both live here. 
I earn more than you, so I pay more, he’d said, confused. It’s not as though it hurt him to continue paying for an apartment he’s been living in for years. 
I won’t be your leech. 
You’re not my leech, don’t say that.
I can’t just not have money. 
Well… he’d said. He’d never discussed it with you so openly before, always stopped at the first suggestion, but there’s a first time for everything. You know you can have whatever you want from me. Anything you want, you don’t have to ask. 
Spencer… you’re my boyfriend. 
Exactly. 
No, you’re my boyfriend. You don’t have to keep me. I don’t want that. 
He understood the ‘want’ most heavily. What do you want, angel? he’d asked, dragging your hand up his naked chest to rest over his diaphragm, your arm moving up and down in time with his breathing. 
You’d seemed stricken, but not upset. Like the question surprised you in having no answer. Not sure… you’d said eventually. Mostly you. 
A week passed, two. A third and you’d asked him to borrow money, just for a little while, and with the vehement promise you’d pay him back. 
He’s not expecting it. So soon, either. But here you are standing in front of him with a beaming smile and little book in your hands, unzipping one of the book's inner pockets to count out the money you’d ’borrowed’. “Here you go, my angel, there’s everything.” 
Spencer just looks at it. “What is it?” 
“The money I owe you.” 
He presses his hands to his stomach to stop you from forcing the notes into them. “You don’t owe me anything.” 
“No, seriously, please take it.” 
He shakes his head. “Seriously. I don’t want anything from you, I love you. That money was for you to do what you wanted, or needed. It was yours as soon as I gave it to you.” 
You try regardless to put it in his hands. Your hair was done freshly a week ago, your nails manicured but unpainted, your face adorned with some new makeup he’d seen on his (your) vanity a few days ago. It honestly hadn’t crossed his mind why you’d suddenly given yourself a refresh, and he had no suspicions. You would’ve told him if you went to the club, even just via text, because it’s important he knows you’ve had access to your phone or that you’re coming home. (Plus, he’d notice you leaving at night. You’ve spent the last few evenings laying across his lap.)
“Where did you get this?” he asks, smiling softly, wondering if he’s come to the right conclusion. 
You drop the money on his thigh and take a couple of steps back. 
“I,” you say, holding your little book to your stomach, “got a job as a barista. They gave me my first paycheck today, a direct deposit. So I took out what I owe you and the rest of it is in here.” 
“You what?” he asks. 
“I’m working at the coffeehouse by the library,” you say, nodding, parts proud of yourself and parts shy. 
“For how long? Why didn’t you tell me?” 
You bite your lip. “Just this week. And honestly, I didn’t want you to know if I couldn’t do it.” 
Spencer stands up but doesn’t cross the room to you. He could reach out and catch your hand. “How could you work somewhere new all week without me noticing?” 
“You weren’t here on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday morning, and they gave me Thursday off, so I just told you a very small lie this morning about going to the store. I knew you’d get distracted by your Persian poetry again.” 
He did get distracted, very much so. You’ve been and worked a whole shift without his worrying, which is a bit awful in itself (he really does love you, and he’d like to know where you are), but is also, frankly, a great thing. You should be able to work without worry. You should do anything you want to do. 
Still, a whole week at a brand new job without any support, and to stand there with your paycheck as unmistakable waves of satisfaction melt off of you unkissed is insanity. Spencer’s laughing as he ushers you into his arms, as he hugs your shoulders tightly, “Oh my god!” he says, “Wow, congratulations!” He pulls back just a touch to see your face. “Please don’t lie to me about where you’re going, that’s so dangerous. I love you!” 
He takes your face into both hands with your arms hanging loosely behind his back and begins a reckoning of kisses. The slope of your cheek, the skin between your nose and lips, Spencer couldn’t care less where the kisses land, he just wants them all over you. You laugh softly as he goes, almost stickily, a sound that comes deep from your chest. “I’m so proud of you,” he says, pressing a quick, mildly rougher kiss to the corner of your mouth. 
“I might still strip,” you say. 
“Whatever you want,” he says, squeezing your face between his palms. “What’s it like? Do you like it? Is it hard?” He kisses you again. “I wish you’d told me,” he says against your lips. 
You’re quieter than he expected, and warm. He pulls away more sternly to see what’s gone wrong. He could’ve asked the wrong questions. Maybe he’s embarrassed you. 
“I just wanted to make sure I could do it. I didn’t want to fail and… and have you know. I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be, I get it.” God knows he’s failed a hundred times for you to see it. He wishes he would have hidden a lot of that from you, spared you some heartache, but he also knows how lucky he is to have you near. “That’s what we’re supposed to do, right? We should be together when stuff goes wrong.” He beams. “But it didn’t go wrong.” 
“I think I’m pretty good at it.” 
“Yeah?” 
You hold his wrist. “And I get tips, did you know that? Not as many as before,” —you laugh to yourself loudly— “but still. It’s really cool. They pay me even if nobody wants coffee, and when people want coffee I get extra.” 
Spencer kisses the corner of your eye. He kisses up to your eyebrow and down again, all over your cheek before turning your face to the other side to kiss circles into the other. “I,” —kiss— “can’t,” —kiss— “believe it.” Kiss. “Actually, I can, but I still can’t.” 
“It’s just a part time job.” 
“That you didn’t think you could do,” he says. “But you can do anything, I knew you could. I’m amazed by you.” 
He grins and throws his arms over your shoulders. 
You squeeze him right back, the two of you swaying, almost falling over. He can feel how proud you are of yourself. You deserve to feel this way no matter what. 
“I like dancing,” you say, “I do, I just wish I could do it in a different… world? Is that stupid?” 
“No. You’re never stupid.” He smiles as your hand weaves into his hair, fingertips scratching along his scalp, his curls caught between your fingers. 
“Do you think you could come on Monday? I can make you a cup of coffee. It’s not as hard as it looks.” 
“Please, I’d love for you to make me a cup of coffee.” His smile presses to your shoulder, where he breathes you in briefly, before remembering something very important. “Hey, do you wear an apron?” 
“Of course I do.”
Oh my god, he thinks. There are more than half a million baristas in the United States, and Spencer will bet his monthly paycheck that you’re the cutest one to ever exist. You look cute right now in your jeans and your button up shirt, but put an apron on top of that? To see you standing behind a bar mixing drinks and pouring latte art? Monday can’t come quick enough. 
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sirianasims · 2 days
Text
Psssst! Hey! Yes, you! We need to talk about clubs:
Using the Clubs for Immersive Gameplay
Of all the systems that Sims 4 has, the club feature is probably one of my favourites (Restaurants are a close second, but they're not why we're here today!) Clubs are one of the easiest ways to increase your immersion when you play and make the random townies that show up on community lots just a tiny bit less random.
The Basics
Often, people are mostly concerned with the groups their active sims are in. You might already have a club to keep track of your sims' closest friends, study group, or baby daddies, we don't judge here.
Clubs are also a great way to automate what you want your sim to be doing with less micromanaging, but for immersion, we're actually more interested in clubs for the sims you don't (or rarely) play.
WTF are the neighbours doing?
Most of the pre-made clubs are kinda meh. I prefer to add my own so I can make my community lots just a bit more lively and make sure people's activities make just a tiny bit of sense because the autonomy in this game is not great. These are just for inspiration based on clubs I often add to my own game:
A group of teens who meet at the retail clothing store to try on clothes and gossip about Nancy's nose job or whatever.
A local bowling league (complete with uniforms) who meet and bowl - just don't fuck with The Jesus.
An HOA of Karens who meet at the park to clean, raise property values, and be mean to people.
Geeks and gamers who meet at the local arcade to awkwardly flirt over pizza.
Comedians who meet at the local comedy club - you can even use the club doors to make a VIP backroom only for the performers.
Sports teams - such as a basket team who meets at a local basket court, or a swim team who meets at the local pool (you can even give them tiny matching speedos!)
Scouts! The scout feature is cute but it's a rabbit hole, boo! But you can make a Scouts club, complete with uniforms, and have them show up in parks where they can do various activities and work on their badges. Add a teen or two to supervise the younglings, their parents will be so proud, aww.
A sorority or fraternity in university who meet up at the local bar in matching varsity jackets to make all the other students feel inferior.
A group of old ladies who meet at the park to knit or cross-stitch and brag about the accomplishments of their descendants.
A "business" club, usually CEOs, lawyers and such, who meet in fancy bars to hold important business meetings and probably commit white-collar crimes, so predictable.
If you have a sim with an office/work from home job and you'd like to pretend they actually go to work, you can make an office building and a group of "coworkers" who'll show up to drink coffee, chat, and work on computers next to them in the office. It'll even simulate rotating desk assignments for an instant capitalist hellscape!
The possibilities are endless, and I find the club feature really useful to add little interesting scenarios to the background of my gameplay.
Thanks to SQOTD for inspiring this!
📩 Simblr question of the day: according to you, what are the most underutilized gameplay features in the sims games you played, dlc included? - @simblr-question-of-the-day
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roosterforme · 2 days
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Covering the Classics Part 13 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Confronting Kevin in California should have made Anna feel like she had the advantage, but nothing with him ever went to plan. As soon as Bob encounters Anna's husband for himself, he knows something isn't quite right.
Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, bruises on Anna's arm, adult language, 18+
Length: 4300 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!
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"Did you delete her number yet?" Nat asked as she lifted her helmet and Bob's off of the shelf in the hangar where their gear was stored when they weren't flying. "Or are you trying to prolong the pain like some sort of sadistic artist?"
Bob flinched at her words, because she hit a little too close to home for his liking. It wasn't that he wanted to be missing Anna like this, but he had been writing a lot of poetry about her. He couldn't help himself. He hadn't posted any since the one about his bookshelf, but that didn't mean his computer wasn't full of it.
"I'm not trying to prolong the pain," he told his friend with a grimace. "I don't know what I'm doing."
She shoved his helmet down onto his head and told him, "I know she threw you for a loop, but either delete her number or give her another chance. Don't sit in this annoying gray area. I don't know why you guys insist on doing that shit. I tried for ten years to get Bradley to contact his wife, but he just flounced around in the gray area like an idiot instead. Don't be like him," she said firmly, pointing to where Bradley was looking down at his phone with a dopey smile on his face. He was almost definitely texting his wife if he looked like that.
Bob sighed. "Nat, I don't know if she wants me to give her another chance right now. She said she's going to deal with her husband, but I think she needs time."
Nat rolled her eyes and held her hands up in the air. "Why don't you," she said, waving her fingers like she was performing magic, "talk to her again?!"
Bob pulled his helmet off again, saying, "What would you suggest I say? She already knows I've had feelings for her for months. There's just a point where it becomes too much."
"You could tell her that even though it blew up in your face, she's the best lay of your life." Bob immediately wished he hadn't told her that. "Or that you'll still be around after she figures her shit out. I think the ball is in your court."
He was still blushing furiously and nowhere closer to knowing what he should be doing when they all got called to the tower, but he did smile when Nat snapped at Bradley to put his phone away. She probably needed to get laid more than Bob ever did.
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The bus ride from San Diego to Carlsbad shouldn't take an hour and a half when it would take barely forty minutes to drive yourself. Not for the first time, Anna wished she had a car in California. That way she could get to Kevin faster. Kevin. Fucking Kevin. The man who was the reason she didn't have a car in California.
She needed to stay calm. If she could catch him while his guard was down and convince him to just sign the paperwork, she would be golden. But every time she thought about seeing his face, she started to panic. She had seen nothing except kind faces for months. The faces of her friends. The faces of her students. Bob's beautiful blue eyes always seemed to look at her with a smile behind them. Even now, after she met up with him for a little bit at the bookstore, his eyes were kind.
Her hands shook slightly. She needed to deal with Kevin so she could move on and never have to see him again. Then she could work on getting back to the people who didn't look at her like she was worthless. When the bus finally fought its way through traffic and made a stop near the hotel where the conference was being held, she sprinted down the steps and up the block. She had already memorized the map and knew she needed to find the grand ballroom, but when she got to the upscale hotel, she was sweaty and panting for breath, and even the doorman was looking at her skeptically as she slipped inside.
The lobby was crowded enough that she padded her way across the marble floor in her beat up sneakers, blending in well enough with the others. Signs for the National Neurological Physicians Association conference were plastered all over the place, and she had to keep from rolling her eyes. It was laughable that physicians from all over would come here to listen to Kevin blathering on and on about his specialty area of study. But when Anna paused to really think about it for a second, something close to cold fury started flowing through her veins, because she was the one who paid for that for him. She was the reason he was a speaker at this massive conference in the first place.
With renewed purpose, she picked up her pace and turned right past the elevator bank, following the signs that led her toward several people in monogrammed lab coats. The ballroom was in sight, and she was ready to push through the double doors when one of the men in a lab coat popped up in front of her. 
"Not so fast," he said, a forced smile plastered on his face. "You're late for the introductory speakers, and you haven't signed in yet."
"Oh," she said, scrambling to push her bag up on her shoulder. "Right." When he gestured toward a long table with some unclaimed name badges and information booklets, Anna's heart skipped a beat. She took a step closer, praying nobody would ask her for any sort of identification, and reached for the badge that said Dr. Angela Harmon, MD. She clipped it onto her shirt, realizing she was terribly under dressed to even try to pull this off, and then she picked up the booklet with Dr. Harmon's name on it as well. "Is this all I need?" she asked, tapping the name badge and praying this random woman didn't decide to show up right now.
With a nod, the man said, "Please try to find a seat at the back to keep disruption to a minimum. I believe Dr. Webber is still speaking, and you know how excited we all are to have him here."
Anna had to bite down on the inside of her cheek and take a deep breath before she could say, "So excited," through clenched teeth. "I wouldn't dream of being disruptive."
"Of course not," he agreed, finally smiling kindly. "Enjoy the conference, Dr. Harmon."
Carefully and as quietly as she could, Anna entered the ballroom to find hundreds of people sitting in rows of chairs listening to her worthless husband giving a presentation in a three piece suit. 
"But we already know recent attempts to update computational axial tomography are largely like someone trying to reinvent the wheel," he said with a charming smile, and the room hummed with amused laughter like everyone was in on some sort of inside joke. Anna's skin crawled as she carefully took a seat in the last row, praying Kevin hadn't seen her yet. If he was this well known and well regarded in his field, then he didn't need money from her manuscript. He was simply holding onto it to be an ass.
She had to listen to him for twenty more minutes after that. Nineteen too long in her book. His voice sounded light and carefree, and his smile was handsome and unassuming. Frankly he was putting on some sort of persona, and it was nothing like she was used to. But it wasn't until he started on a short presentation that Anna's attention was piqued, because it was then that she saw he was using the laptop that they used to share. The one she used to type up her book.
A soft sound escaped her as she stared longingly at it, wondering if her work was still there. He slammed the computer shut, and she was jolted back to reality as he said, "Once again, thank you all for being here for the next week. We have so many groundbreaking topics to learn about and some of the most renowned research physicians in the country sharing their expertise with us. Let's take a quick break and then dive right into new MRI techniques with Dr. Nunez."
There was an immediate round of applause, and Anna jumped to her feet, heart pounding so hard, it was making her nauseous. When she headed toward his cocky, smiling face, she realized Kevin was already surrounded by colleagues, shaking hands and laughing. And that was when he spotted her. They'd been on the phone just a handful of hours ago, but he looked shocked to see her here. She watched his sharp, gray eyes narrow in on her with a spiteful glare before he smoothed out his features into something neutral. And that's when she came to terms with the fact that he would know she was living in southern California. That's when she knew she needed to make this work.
"Anna," he said with absolutely no emotion as she cut in front of the person he was talking to. "What are you doing here?"
She swallowed hard, imagining Bob and her two friends were with her, urging her on, cheering for her to fix this. "I have something for you to sign," she told him as her voice shook. She took a step closer as she reached into her bag to pull out the folded paperwork and a pen.
"No," he practically growled under his breath, trying not to draw more attention to himself. "Why are you doing this here? I'm a little busy."
Anna wanted to laugh in his face. She was a little busy trying to get on with her stupid life, but that didn't stop him from disrupting her mission every day. "Just sign the divorce papers, Kevin," she demanded, but she sounded like a child even to her own ears. His eyes flashed with so much anger, she could barely breathe with him this close to her. He was built similarly to Bob, which was a frightening realization. Where Kevin always used his size as an intimidation tactic, Bob had never done that to her. She always felt safe around him. Right now she felt very unsafe around Kevin, even though they were literally in the midst of a crowd of people.
"Just sign it," she whispered, trying to push the document into his solid chest. It was unbelievable that at one time, she was in love with this man. It was crazy to think about how he used to tell her he loved her too. "Please, Kevin." He looked so angry right now, and Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in fear as the people behind her started whispering.
"Who is this woman? That's not Alyssa."
"Did she say divorce? Isn't he married to that other physician? The pregnant one?"
So Alyssa was pregnant. And nobody here even knew about Anna. It was like she didn't even exist. Like she had never existed to her husband. A mortifying little sob bubbled free from the back of her throat, and she looked up at Kevin as he said, "Let's take a little walk."
His hand closed around her bicep, and Anna wanted to yelp as he pulled her up onto the stage, past the podium, where nobody else would be able to hear them. The laptop was right there, and she considered trying to take it, but she'd never make it out of the hotel let alone back to her apartment with it. Instead she tripped along next to him until he had her where he wanted her.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he snarled. "Were you always this stupid? Or have you gotten worse?"
"Come on, Kevin," she pleaded, and he finally released her throbbing arm. "You don't need it. Look how well you're doing. You don't need my book."
He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair as if he was trying his hardest to keep his composure. "You think you can come here and embarrass me in front of my peers? Mentioning our marriage like we still have one when you moved away?"
Her fist clenched at her side. "Our marriage didn't fall apart because I left," she hissed under her breath. "It fell apart because of you. And now your mistress is pregnant?"
Kevin sighed. "I understand that you're jealous, Anna. I really do, but I'm not signing anything for you."
She clenched and unclenched her fist. The desire to punch him in the face was so strong as her other hand shook with the papers grasped between her fingers. She was far from jealous, and he knew it. He wanted to get a rise out of her because he felt cornered. "I don't care what these people think about me," she whispered. "But you do. So just sign it."
He stood before her, tall and broad with his jaw set as he said, "There is no way in hell you have what it takes to intimidate me. Now get the fuck out of here, or I will have security remove you from the hotel for disrupting the conference."
She knew she didn't have any other choice. If she somehow got herself in trouble for being here, she didn't have the money to spend on more legal help. So she took a step backwards just as Kevin's hand flew up to pull the name badge from her shirt. "And you're obviously not Dr. Harmon. She has enormous tits, and I fucked her last year in Toronto. Now go." 
Twenty minutes later, Anna was back on the bus heading south toward San Diego, empty handed with tears in her eyes and a bruised arm.
-----------------------------
"What happened to your pretty girlfriend?"
Bob looked up from his phone as he walked up his porch steps after a long run on Monday evening. He hadn't been sleeping well, debating reaching out to Anna again, and he was hoping the run would tire him out. But he should have known Suzanne would have her door open and her game shows blaring at this hour.
"Hi, Suzanne," he said, wishing he could just duck inside his own place without having to chat with her.
"I haven't seen her again in weeks."
Bob sighed and tipped his head back. "She's not my girlfriend. She never was."
"Not with that attitude," his neighbor mused under her breath.
"You have a good night, Suzanne." Bob swatted Sylvester away from his front door before heading inside and up to take a shower. He thought about Anna as he ran his soapy hands along his body. He tried not to, but she was on his mind a lot. When he climbed into bed, his skin felt too hot. He opened the window to let the late fall air in, but it did nothing to help him. He wanted to see her, even just to make sure she was still okay.
He reached for his phone, typed up a text, and then deleted it. "You sound so desperate for her," he groaned, trying again. But again he had to delete it rather than send it. Finally he settled on something simple.
Hey, I've been craving some peanuts from Chippy's. Feel like joining me for a bit tomorrow?
It sounded neutral enough. If she said no, he'd ask Jessica to make sure the ladies were checking in on her. If she said yes, then Bob could see with his own eyes if she was okay. He would also get to see with his own eyes how fucking beautiful she was, but that didn't matter as much, honestly.
He was just slipping into a daydream where Anna's husband divorced her tomorrow and never left the state of New Jersey again when his phone vibrated on his nightstand.
Anna Webber: Peanuts from Chippy's sound heavenly right now. I would love to join you for a little bit.
He exhaled as the cooler air finally met his skin, and he pulled his sheet over himself after he promised to meet her there.
----------------------------
Before she went down to the quad with her lunch bag, Anna adjusted her cardigan. She knew her sleeve was covering his bruised arm, but she felt naked all morning during her lectures anyway. She felt like her skin and the inside of her brain were on full display for everyone. She wondered when Alyssa was due. She wondered if Kevin slept with Dr. Harmon when he was in Toronto last June or last October. Perhaps both. She wondered how someone who was so full of shit could keep coming out ahead of her.
"Anna!"
At least her friends were still faithfully waiting for her at the weird looking tree. And at least Bob was making it a point to let her know she was welcome around him. She could hardly wait to go to Chippy's later. 
"Hi," she said, plopping down in between them on the bench, adjusting her sleeve one more time before pulling her sad sandwich out. "What's new in the world of science and mathematics?"
Almost immediately, she had a container of veggies and a homemade ranch dip in her hand while her friend told her about a fascinating math conference she wanted to go to next year in Philadelphia. Apparently the dates were just announced, and you had to be someone important to even get an invitation. Anna loved that her friend already knew she was going to go, but it made her dwell on Kevin and his conference which was still going on in Carlsbad.
"Oh!" Jessica said as she poured some potato chips on her already delectable looking sandwich. "Jake and I are going to Cabo next month! A much needed break after the term ends."
"I love that for you," Anna told her, feeling jealous in spite of herself. And that made her feel even sadder. She almost winced when her other friend wrapped her arm around her, inadvertently mashing her hand against the bruise from Kevin.
"Don't worry. Bradley and I aren't going anywhere for term break. I wanted to, but his favorite Grateful Dead cover band is playing right here in San Diego on New Year's Eve, and he absolutely can't miss it. That would be a crime." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm which made Anna laugh. "How's your week going?" she asked cautiously. 
Anna wanted to tell them all about going to the conference at the hotel. She wanted to tell them that she saw Kevin and left with less than nothing. She would tell them, but not right now when she only had a little bit of time before she had to give her Classics lecture. She didn't want to run the risk of arriving to the lecture hall with tears in her eyes. 
Instead she softly said, "I'm going to see Bob later. Just a quick visit to Chippy's for some peanuts."
Jessica was instantly vibrating with excitement. "That's great. I think you and he will have fun!"
"We will," Anna confirmed. Even though it was a little awkward, she'd had a nice time with him at the bookstore. She always did. Because he was kind and sweet and literally the opposite of everything that Kevin turned out to be. She just wished there was some reality in which she could feel his arms around her again. "We will."
The end of lunch came way more quickly than she wanted it to, and Anna found herself mentally regrouping to try to find another way to get her manuscript. She taught her last two lectures and graded a handful of essays, counting down the minutes until she could see Bob again. His blue eyes would be soft when he looked at her, and his words would be enough to make her feel better even if they only engaged in some small talk.
When she only had thirty minutes until she was supposed to meet him, she printed off sixty copies of the quiz she would need for tomorrow afternoon. Anna locked her office door behind her as she headed down to the teacher's lounge to retrieve the quizzes before someone moved them, never to be seen again. She learned her lesson after last time that if you didn't grab them right away, there was a good chance they'd end up in the trash. Then she would drop them off before going to meet Bob.
----------------------------
Since he was running early, Bob decided to just head to Anna's office and meet her there. He'd been so antsy to see her, he showered and dressed in his favorite jeans and tee shirt in record time after work. Even though he'd only been in this one academic building one time, he remembered exactly how to get to her office. Having an outstanding sense of direction just came with the territory for a WSO, but her hallway also smelled like fresh baked bread.
When he rounded the last corner, Bob skidded to a halt and ducked back behind the wall. There was a man about his age who was vigorously jiggling Anna's doorknob. "Anna. Open the door so we can talk," he said calmly even as he pushed his fingers through his hair in exasperation. Bob didn't know who he was, but he had a bad feeling, and that's when the man turned his head and spotted him.
Bob squared his shoulders to try to match the other man's height as he rounded the corner completely and asked, "Are you looking for Dr. Webber?"
The other man appraised him with cool gray eyes and smirked. "Let me guess. You're sleeping with her?"
Bob's heart lurched into his stomach as the color drained from his face. He knew this had to be Kevin. He knew it without confirmation, and now he didn't know how the hell he was supposed to respond. So he simply kept his mouth shut while the other man took a step in his direction.
"She really likes to act so high and mighty. Very hypocritical in this scenario," he muttered, making Bob's skin crawl. "I can't believe her."
Bob swallowed hard, trying to figure out why Anna agreed to go to Chippy's today if she knew Kevin was in San Diego. All he knew about was what she'd told him when she came to his house. Bob didn't think he should divulge too much to this man, so he simply asked, "What do you want from her?"
The answer was swift and felt like a punch to the gut. "She's my wife, and she's coming back to New Jersey with me where I can keep track of her. She doesn't belong here, and she needs to stop lying. So why don't you tell me what you want from her?"
His nostrils flared as his fingers curled into fists, and Bob had to take a few deep breaths before he said, "I just wanted to make sure she's okay."
Kevin crossed his arms over his chest and said, "She's nothing you need to be concerned about."
The uneasy feeling that started to fill him up spread through his whole body now, and Bob took a step backwards. Maybe Anna was already at Chippy's. Maybe she didn't know Kevin was here at all. He backtracked his way through the building as he started to panic. What if she did know he was here? What if she had played Bob and everyone else the whole time?
He would check for her at Chippy's. He made it all the way across the quad to a weird looking tree that was growing sideways when he froze again. It just didn't make sense. Anna said she hated Kevin and never wanted to go back to New Jersey, and Bob had no reason to believe someone else over her.
He started calling her phone, torn as to which direction he should head. Back up to her office? To Chippy's where they were supposed to meet up? She didn't answer. He started toward the bar, covering the few blocks at a brisk pace as he tried to call her again. He walked back and forth across that sticky floor through the clusters of students enjoying an after class drink before he was satisfied that she wasn't there. 
"Damn it, Anna. Answer your phone," he muttered as he ran back to her building and up to her office. The building was virtually empty at this hour, and now there was nobody in the hallway at all. He knocked on her door and called out her name, but he was met with silence. The kind of silence that just didn't feel right.
He felt like he was going crazy, running in circles both metaphorically and physically for this woman, and when he finally reached his truck, he had to wipe the sweat from his brow. Her apartment wasn't far from campus, and he didn't know where else to even look at this point. When he got there, he parked and tried to call her one more time before someone else who lived in the building simply held the door open for him.
"Thanks," he muttered, heading for the stairwell and taking the steps two at a time until he reached Anna's floor. And then her apartment. What he heard coming from inside made him want to rip the door from the hinges.
--------------------------
I hate Kevin. Hate. Him. I'm sorry, but he's still going to get worse. Just remember that Bob is a sweet cinnamon bun. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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buckybabesonly · 1 day
Text
as long as we're together (does it matter where we go?)
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Summary: You don't want to be a burden to Bucky, knowing he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Pairing: Bucky x Female!OC
Genre: Angst
Length: 7.8k
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Two years ago
“I don’t think I want to be with you anymore.”
Bucky had expected it. Weeks of you being distant, making secret phone calls, avoiding his touches like they physically hurt you. Countless times Bucky had asked, what's wrong?, only for you to shut him down and say that everything was fine. Bucky was sick of hearing that empty, meaningless mantra, but it didn’t mean that he reveled in your confession now.
Even though it didn't come as a surprise, it still felt like a punch to the gut. It physically winded him to hear those words leave your lips.
He wondered what he did wrong. He wondered where they went wrong. They were so in love, so wonderfully content in each other's company. You were his person. Steve had once told Bucky that he would find someone unexpectedly, when Bucky made an off-hand comment about how lucky he was to have met Peggy.
“You’ll find your Peggy.”
Things had been perfect. Or maybe Bucky had just been in denial, ignoring all the problems between you because he thought that his feelings for you triumphed over everything, no matter what hardships you may have been suffering from. How could he ever face the reality that you might actually leave in pursuit of something better?
Now, Bucky’s chest was tight with an indescribable feeling, both of you stood in your shared apartment. Your belongings stuffed into a black suitcase, Bucky’s heart in pieces on the hardwood floor.
He had expected it, but it didn't stop him from wanting to die.
"Why?" It was all he could ask. He wanted to know the reason, wanted to understand. Wanted to know if he could fix it. He was desperate to make you stay.
Bucky stared at your face. You looked so...indifferent. Unattached, in contrast to the woman he had met all those years ago. Where had the softness in your eyes gone? Why couldn’t you meet his pleading gaze, even now? At what point did your feelings for him start to fade, and was there anything he could have done to salvage it?
Your face was a blank slate, emotionless, and it made Bucky feel a truly troubling combination of sadness and anger. It was as if you had already said your goodbyes to their relationship, completely ready to move on whilst Bucky was still trying to process your words. You were ready to leave him behind to mourn.
“I don’t think we’re right for each other,” you had said quietly. “I don’t think we can give each other what we need.”
"Bullshit," Bucky said, his voice cracking. You grimaced ever so slightly at his tone, still unable to meet his eyes. "How can you say that?"
He took a step forward; you matched it with a retreating step, but with wide strides he seized your wrists. He silently willed you to say something which could somehow lessen the excruciating pain.
“Will you just look at me?”
He wanted so badly for you to meet his stare, to find some source of comfort within your eyes which usually held so much love for him.
Finally, you relented and lifted your head. They did not fill Bucky with any hope. You pressed your lips together firmly as he searched your face desperately for any sign of residual affection.
"We - we're in love. How can you say after all these years that we're not right for each other? For fuck's sake, will you just tell me what happened?"
"People change, Bucky," you said softly. The look on your face - was it sadness, or apathy? "We've become too distant."
"And whose fault is that?" Bucky released you then. He was so angry, wanting to elicit some sort of reaction from you, that he wanted to punch the wall beside them. It made him feel nauseous at how stoic you were now, like a piece of unyielding rock. He knew you hated it when he took his anger out physically. You had been the one to teach him how to manage his rage more constructively, to talk things out and use his words rather than his fists.
"Are you trying to say it's mine?" Your tone was sharp, finally demonstrating some emotion. "Are you saying that all those nights waiting for you to come back home, all those evenings alone whilst you stayed at the Tower, all those hours I spent staring at the four walls of this apartment were my fault?"
"You left me!" Bucky retorted, gritting his teeth. "You left me long before today! You think I haven't noticed? You can barely stand touching me. You're always on your phone, always texting, always out seeing your 'friends'," he said, making air quotes. "I asked Wanda, she said you haven't been meeting her or your other friends for weeks. Who's this 'friend’? Who the fuck is it that's so important that you can't spare any time for me, never mind your actual friends?"
A long, pregnant pause filled the air, an indecipherable mask on your face once more. Bucky’s eyes were wet, and if he hadn't been so angry, he would've seen the way your lower lip was trembling ever so slightly, the way it did whenever you were trying not to cry. It had been the biggest telltale sign for him over the years to know when you were upset and trying your best to hide it.
He was usually so good at reading you, but he was blinded with sadness.
"Fine," you said eventually, slicing the silence with a shaky exhale. "I'm seeing someone else."
You might as well have struck Bucky across the face.
Suspecting it and hearing the words fall from your lips were two different things. He physically reeled back in anguish as he stared at you. He took in the sight of his girlfriend in front of him, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. This was, without a doubt, the woman he had met five years ago. The woman he spent five years loving. The woman whom he recognized no longer.
"Why?" Bucky whispered, all the fight leaving his body. He physically seemed to sag, forehead creasing at all the other questions running through his mind, visions of you being touched and fucked by some faceless, nameless man.
You were almost pitiful in the way you looked at Bucky, and he hated it.
"I care for you, Bucky. But I’m not in love with you anymore. And I'm sorry I had to do this to you. Things just got out of control."
I’m not in love with you anymore.
You offered no further information, but he had stopped listening, anyway. The finality in your voice pierced him slowly, tortuously, through the heart. He barely moved when you took your suitcase and pulled it out behind you, out of their apartment. Out of his life.
The door slammed shut.
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Present day
You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Mercedes Knight & Samuel Wilson
Sam had become Bucky’s closest confidant in the past few years, and the latter had been a close witness as Sam met Mercedes ‘Misty’ Knight, a former NYPD officer who had somehow become roped into their crazy world. It was no surprise to Bucky when they announced their engagement just six months into dating.
Bucky found himself being pulled into their wedding planning discussions far too often. He tried to keep an amused smile at bay whilst listening into Misty and Sam’s wedding talk at the Tower. They were using one of the many conference rooms - a Knight-Wilson union was official business, Misty insisted.
"Are you bringing a date?" Misty asked suddenly in the middle of everything, the question directed at Bucky.
"Of course he's bringing a date," Sam smirked. "Heard things with Sharon are going well, right?"
Bucky smiled non-committedly, shrugging. "She's great." It didn’t go unnoticed by Sam that this didn’t quite answer his question.
"You two look good together," Misty offered. She glanced at her watch and widened her eyes theatrically, grabbing Sam’s hand. "Oh crap, we need to go meet with the wedding planner."
"But it feels like we just sat down," Sam complained.
"There's no rest for the bride and groom, Sam," Misty said, pulling her fiancé out of his seat as she waved goodbye at Bucky.
As soon as they departed, the smile on Bucky’s face dimmed. He was beyond happy for his two friends, he really was - but every couple he knew was a fresh reminder of his own failed love life.
Ever since you, he hadn't been in a long term relationship. Sharon is different, he told himself, and she was. They had been friends for a long time, and of course spent a lot of time together carrying out missions and the like. Over time, somehow, they had gotten closer, and one day Sharon had just asked him, “So when are you going to ask me out, Barnes?”
At that point, Bucky was still frequently thinking about you. Sharon had never met you before, but Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if she had heard stories about you from the others, since he had been notoriously affected by the breakup. Even though he was dealing with the aftershocks of the broken relationship, he was forcing himself to get past it.
They had been dating for two months now, and it only seemed right for Sharon to be his date at the wedding.
He had moved on. He was no longer the depressed, dark wreck he was when you left.
Sometimes it’s better to lie to yourself than to face the reality.
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“You invited Bucky’s ex to the wedding?” Misty asked curiously.
“Uh, yeah. She’s not just his ex,” Sam explained gently. “She’s my friend too, and I haven’t seen her since she left town.”
"You told Bucky?"
"Nope," Sam snorted, shaking his head. "I can't. I don't think he'd turn up if I did. I want them both there on the day - I'm sure they can be civil for one night."
“I wonder how Bucky will react," his future wife pondered.
Sam shrugged. Not well, probably.
"What else can I do? I can’t not invite her, I really want her to be there. You never met her, so you don’t know, but she’s been through some shit.”
“I know, I know, you told me,” Misty said. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt. Do you think she'll be okay seeing Bucky again? Especially if he'll be there with Sharon?"
"She said she can handle it. She would be happy to see that Bucky was happy. She was the one who practically begged me to encourage him to move on."
“Do you think he has?”
Sam paused, considering the question carefully.
“He has to.”
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Several weeks later, Misty Knight and Sam Wilson were officially wed at the local registration office. The day was full of hugs, cacophonous laughter, friends and family, and Bucky watched with a wide beam on his face as he witnessed his friends glow. Those kinds of smiles were few and far between nowadays, but he was truly happy for once.
"They look so good together," Sharon murmured as hundreds of guests filled the hotel ballroom, the party commencing in full swing. The newlyweds were in the center of the room, Misty being twirled around wildly by a laughing Sam before his wife collapsed against his chest in fits of giggles, looking up into his eyes adoringly.
More and more people joined them on the dance floor after the conclusion of their official first dance.
"Barnes, would you like to dance?" Sharon asked suddenly with a smile, extending a hand.
Bucky chuckled, allowing her to take his hand and lead him out to the dance floor.
An hour passed, and Bucky had to truthfully say that he was enjoying himself, assisted by all the alcohol he had consumed. Sharon was draped all over him as they swayed to the music, and Bucky found himself appreciating the feel of her body against his all too much, the scent of her intoxicating. His hands felt the fabric of her silky, emerald green dress, buried his nose into Sharon's blonde hair, sighing softly as he tightened his grip on her waist.
Her perfume was strong and woodsy, like a forest. It irritated his nose ever so slightly. You had preferred a more subtle, floral perfume, one that smelt like sakura blossoms.
Sharon was more confident and seductive in the way she danced, whilst you used to always let yourself become putty in his arms, enjoying how he took the lead and managed to make you look like you knew how to dance despite your two left feet.
However, despite the differences, if Bucky closed his eyes and just tried a little harder, he think he could pretend that -
"Sorry to interrupt.”
Bucky pulled away from Sharon suddenly, and he turned to mock glare at Sam. "What do you want, Wilson?"
"Need to borrow you for a minute," Sam said, an undecipherable expression on his face. Bucky tried to see where Misty had disappeared off to, but saw no trace.
"Um, sure..." Bucky tried to read Sam’s face but gleaned nothing.
"I'll just go say hi to Natasha," Sharon said, giving Bucky’s forearm a squeeze before she disappeared.
Sam’s smile faded, and he caught Bucky’s arm in a vice grip. "I need to tell you something. Don't get mad, okay?"
"What?" Bucky scowled as Sam dragged him to the side of the room, weaving through the crowds of guests. "What good news starts with, ‘don’t get mad’? Are you gonna tell me you want to run out on Misty or something?" He joked.
Sam pulled him out through one of the open French doors which led to a pretty, outdoor stone balcony. He shut them behind him as Bucky continued to babble, a little tipsy from the champagne he'd had. "I gotta tell ya, if she asks me to kick your ass I will literally do so -”
"Bucky," Sam said, taking a deep breath. "She’s here." Meeting Bucky’s nonplussed eyes, your name rolled off Sam’s tongue in clarification.
He felt like the breath was sucked from his lungs as he stared back at Sam, who looked uncharacteristically anxious.
“What?" He asked hoarsely, instantly sobering up. “What do you mean?”
Chills were running through his body. The name he had avoided for years was suddenly causing him to feel breathless. How did you still have such an affect on him?
"She couldn't make it to the ceremony earlier today, but she just arrived."
"You - you invited her here? She’s here, now?"
"Yes," Sam replied, nodding. "I invited her.” He straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest almost defiantly.
Bucky was speechless for a moment, taking a step back and scoffing. He shook his head. “Do you remember what she did to me?”
“I'm sorry, Buck..."
Bucky suddenly laughed, startling Sam. His laugh was curt, humorless. "What are you sorry for? I'm over her, Sam. It was two years ago. I haven't seen her in two years. I don't care anymore," he said quickly. Too quickly.
"Listen -"
"Look, it's okay." Bucky raised his hands in small surrender. “You have the right to invite whoever you want. I’m not mad. But I just don’t want to be held accountable for whatever happens now.”
He turned and wrenched the French doors open with such force that the handle buckled slightly. The noise inside the ballroom spilled out to replace the painful silence on the balcony.
He disappeared inside before Sam could say anything else, and he tried to hide it, but Sam could clearly see that his hands were shaking as he marched inside.
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For the next twenty minutes, Bucky found sanctuary in the restrooms. He stood inside the stall, trying to stop himself from mentally collapsing.
He didn’t know what was happening. He had never felt this overwhelming panic rush over him before, immobilizing him. Anger, sadness and yearning swirling inside a melting pot of emotions that was crippling him.
She was here. The woman he hadn't seen in two years, the woman who broke his heart, the woman who betrayed him, the woman who left him in tatters.
Your infidelity had had an unforeseen impact on him. When he first found out, he was devastated. Terrified of how you became someone he didn’t recognize - or had you always been someone capable of betraying him, just good at hiding it?
You had poisoned all the happy memories they had once shared. Bucky found himself recounting all the years you were together, micro-analyzing everything, wondering if there was a hidden lie behind it all.
That was one of the things which made him angriest. You turned all the beautiful years of your relationship into a lie. None of it was real, Bucky had told himself.
You crushed him.
Of his feelings, anger prevailed, slowly simmering to the surface, like a volcano about to erupt. How dare you walk back into his life like this? He would show you, Bucky thought with determination. He was over you. He had no reason to be angry, he thought bitterly, because you were nothing to him.
Just like Bucky was nothing to you.
When he emerged from the toilets, the first thing he did was find Sharon. She looked relieved to see him, although confusion was clear on her face as she eyed Bucky.
"Where have you been? Are you feeling okay?" She commented, brow furrowed with concern.
"I'm fine," Bucky assured her. "Have you seen Sam?"
Sharon pointed, puzzlement still painted across her face, and Bucky snapped round quickly.
And there you were.
It was as if you had never left. As if the past two years filled with Bucky trying to eradicate every memory and feeling he had for you had never happened, because as soon as Bucky’s eyes found you through the crowd, everything came collapsing back down on top of him like an avalanche. Suffocating.
You were still so beautiful, strikingly so. Like a burning beacon among the crowd, Bucky’s eyes found your face as easily as anything. For a second, he allowed himself to ignore anything except you, and how the sight of you still managed to take his breath away.
You looked thinner than he remembered, your face gaunt. Bucky frowned slightly at this acute observation and found himself wondering if you had been taking care of yourself.
"Barnes? You okay?"
Bucky registered Sharon shaking his arm, but his eyes remained fastened on yourself and Sam. Neither of you had spotted Bucky yet, who was rooted to the spot like a statue. Sam’s mouth was moving, words that Bucky couldn't hear escaping his mouth, but his expression was angry. Almost as if he was scolding you for something.
"I have to...I..." Bucky stumbled over his words, voice faint. He could feel those tendrils of anger slowly seizing him again, wisps at first, until they grew more and more potent by the second. He remembered every single thing he felt when you left him, and instead of trying to hold back the emotions, Bucky just saw red.
"Let me introduce you to someone," he said suddenly, his voice strained as he took Sharon's hand.
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"You said you were better," Sam said, expression torn.
"I am," you lied, trying to put on a smile. Truth was, you were exhausted, just like how you always felt. The ballroom was so crowded and loud, and you just wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep, which you would the moment you finished congratulating Sam and Misty. And perhaps, even though you didn't want to admit it, you wanted to catch a glimpse of Bucky, too.
"Look at you, you're -"
“Sam, please don’t,” you interrupted gently. “Just drop it, please? It’s your big day, I don’t want you to worry about anything else.”
Sam opened his mouth to talk, but stopped suddenly, his eyes flitting to look behind you.
"Hey."
You froze. You knew that voice, of course. Heard it enough times, the deep, gravelly voice that had once whispered sweet pet names, proclamations of love, and plagued your dreams ever since you left him.
You had longed to hear his voice again, hear your name being spoken lovingly. His voice was your favorite sound in the world. Except tonight, hearing it for the first time in two years, you heard nothing but ice.
"Bucky?" You turned slowly, and your breath hitched. He was just the way you remembered him. Even more handsome, if possible. Clad in a sleek black tux, tall and dark and sexy, everything you had missed and dreamed of, and...
He was holding another woman’s hand.
"Bucky," Sam repeated, voice tense. Bucky could hear the underlying warning.
"It's been a while," he said stiffly, acting as neutral as he could. As if he hadn't spent months after their terrible break up being a shell of who he used to be, barely repaired even now. Bucky felt like any other venomous words from your mouth would shatter him again, but he had to take the chance. He had to talk to you, show you that he had moved on. He didn't care about you anymore, or how you so ruthlessly left him.
"Yes," you said weakly, smiling softly. God, he still thought that you looked beautiful, clad in a periwinkle blue dress, a thick coat draped around your shoulders. You were shivering, and Bucky resisted the urge to ask you what was wrong. Now that he was closer, he could see that didn’t look well at all. You had dark circles under your eyes and your collarbones were too prominent, your gaze devoid of any livelihood.
You glanced at Bucky’s fingers interlaced with a gorgeous blonde. You had seen her on the news before, you were pretty certain. Your smile forcibly stretched wider, blinking a few times, not knowing what to do with yourself.
"This is Sharon," Sam said, clearing his throat and exchanging introductions.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Sharon said politely. She was gorgeous, you thought, watching as she sent Bucky a subtle, questioning glance.
Bucky was still staring at you, unmoving. You took the initiative first.
“Bucky, can we talk for a second?"
You could see the way he was trying to control himself by the way his lips stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He gave a curt nod. He didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Sharon and the other hundreds of wedding guests.
“Let’s leave these two to catch up,” Sam said lightly, trying to hide his discomfort as he led Sharon away.
"So now you want to talk?" Bucky asked as soon as they were out of earshot, his voice sharp. You cringed, almost folding into yourself at Bucky’s hard stare.
"Yes," was all you managed to whisper, eyes darting to the ground to avoid meeting his glare. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”
You turned and walked towards the exit of the ballroom, turning back to look at Bucky. He followed after a second, his jaw set like stone as you led the way to the empty lobby outside, away from the noise.
"It's been a while, Buck.” You voice was sad as you turned to face him again.
"Yes," he said, fighting an internal battle. He was so torn. Seeing you again made him want to wrap you up in his arms like he would've done two years ago, when you were still together. And feeling like that made Bucky angry. What right did you have to make him feel this way? Who gave you the right to mess with Bucky’s heart again after so long?
"How have you been?" You asked eventually after a painfully awkward silence.
He scoffed at that. "How have I been?" He repeated incredulously. He doubted you really wanted to hear about all those nights he spent in his apartment, refusing to talk to his friends, being a complete social introvert (more than he usually was) because he felt like he just couldn't live anymore. Not without you.
"Great. Fantastic," he said without a shred of sincerity.
You stared at him for the longest time, your lips pressed into a thin line. You looked so regretful that it made Bucky feel uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry," you said eventually, your voice wavering like you were struggling to breathe properly. "I'm so sorry for leaving you like that. We...we could have ended things better. You didn't deserve how I treated you."
You flinched when Bucky scoffed derisively. He dropped any remaining restraints he had previously put in place, letting all his feelings run free.
"Are you kidding me? Why? Why are you coming back here and apologizing after all this time?" He felt like he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration as he stared at you, making sure to keep his distance lest he found himself wanting to pull you closer. God, it was all so confusing. He despised you, and yet seeing you here in the flesh was everything he had ever wanted in the last few years.
He hated how you were making him feel.
"Look, it doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done," he spat through gritted teeth, all the while completely unaware of how your heart clenched painfully at Bucky’s scornful eyes. “Do you have any idea how unfair this is? You fucked up big time, disappeared off the face of the earth, then come back standing in front of me now asking how I am?”
“I know. You’re right, about everything. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry.”
“No. You have no right to do this,” Bucky seethed. “You have no right to come back here and try to - what, settle your guilt? Make amends?”
You didn’t say anything, choosing to let him vent instead.
“I still remember the way you left. What you did. I will never forgive you for that. So don’t you dare stand in front of me today with all this bullshit and expect me to have something nice to say.”
"You really hate me, don't you?" You asked then, taking Bucky off guard. You lifted your head properly to stare at him, and the look in your eyes was unsettling.
"I hate you," Bucky confirmed unwaveringly, his voice hard. "I hate what you did to me and by extension, you."
You didn't respond. You bit your lower lip hard, trying desperately not to cry in front of him. Your heart hurt so much.
It was the worst feeling in the world, maybe, seeing the man you loved so dearly tell you that he hated you. It was excruciating, the clenching inside your chest as Bucky’s words rang in your head.
"I know my apologies will never be enough. I just wanted to see if you're happy now," you whispered.
"I'm happy," Bucky replied almost immediately. "I'm happy with Sharon. Does that bother you? Did you hope that I'd still be pining after you? I'm not that pathetic anymore." The barriers were broken, and the hurtful words were falling from Bucky’s mouth, two years worth of it.
“I never said you were pathetic,” you retorted, slightly indignant. “I’m glad that you’re happy.”
Bucky was breathing hard, unconvinced by your words.
“And how's the man you left me for?"
"He...it didn't work out," you shrugged, trying to keep your face as straight as possible.
"Good," Bucky said harshly. "Because you don't deserve happiness." If he wasn't so mad, he wouldn't say such irrational things. But he just wanted you to hurt. He wanted you to feel all the pain you caused.
Bucky pretended he didn't hear you gasp. He pretended that he didn't see your eyes gloss over at the sheer amount of hate in his voice.
"Okay," you said finally, your voice clearly shaking. "Okay," you repeated again, nodding your head. Bucky watched you take a step back, away from him.
“I -”
“I'm sorry, Bucky. Please take care," you interrupted, smiling sadly before you turned and walked away as quickly as possible.
That was not how you envisioned the reunion to go. All you wanted was to apologize, know that he was happy, so that you could go in peace.
But maybe that was the consequence of your decision. Maybe he was just always going to hate you for the rest of his life and remember you as someone awful.
You didn’t know that all Bucky wanted to do was run after you. Tell you to stop. He wanted to apologize and tell you how he didn’t mean a word of what he just said.
Rage and pride kept him shackled, and he watched your retreating back, feeling like a coward.
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The last thing Bucky expected when he opened his apartment door a few days later was Sam’s dirty glare.
"You can be a mean son of a bitch, do you know that?”
"Hello to you too,” Bucky retorted.
“Why did you say all that stuff to her?” Sam asked, pushing his way past Bucky.
Bucky closed the door, knowing exactly who he was referring to.
"Why is this any of your business?"
"You acted like a dick!" Sam said furiously.
“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done something like that on your special day. But-”
“I want you to feel sorry to her.”
"She left me,” Bucky exclaimed. "You were there, Sam, you saw how fucked up she made me. She cheated on me! You want me to apologize to her?” His face was incredulous.
“You’re so fucking frustrating.”
“Oh, excuse me for not being the bigger person,” Bucky sneered. “But you don’t know how she made me feel, Sam, so don’t you dare try to give me a fucking lecture now.”
Sam was quiet for the longest time, looking exasperated. He stared up at the ceiling, sighing.
“Bucky, look man. She never cheated on you,” Sam said finally, an apologetic look in his eyes.
The apartment became filled with nothing but the sounds of Bucky’s heavy breathing.
“What are you talking about?” He spat, realizing now that Sam knew something he didn’t.
Sam let out a resigned sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I promised her I wouldn’t tell you. But fuck it, man, cause I think this is messed up. She’s sick, Bucky," he said solemnly. "Like, really sick."
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Two years ago
"It's cancer, Sam."
You physically couldn't cry anymore. You had done enough of that the day the doctor had told you, your eyes puffy and swollen. Funnily enough, the first person you had sought out wasn’t your boyfriend, but rather his best friend.
Bucky wasn’t even in town that weekend, and you really didn’t want to tell him over the phone. In fact, you never wanted to tell him. How do you tell the man you love that you're dying?
"You can get treatment, right?" Sam asked.
"I don't know. It’s not looking good. They're doing some sort of new clinical trial in England, but even that’s a long shot. I - I’m going to try, though.”
Sam sat up straighter. “And Bucky?”
"You can't tell him," you said firmly. You had thought about it all night, and you knew you couldn't let him know. You didn't want to put him through something like this. "My father had cancer too, Sam," you said softly. "He died in so much pain, he had so much treatment but it didn't help. He was throwing up all the time, having fevers, his body was so weak, and by the end he wasn’t the same anymore. I don't want him to see me like that."
“But-”
“No buts,” you said. You had given it enough thought already. You knew that you would have to be very, very lucky to make it through this - the end was essentially inevitable. There was no way you would make Bucky bear witness to you succumbing to this illness the same way you had to watch your father.
It was the worst time of your life. You had told Bucky about it in the past, as he had never had a chance to meet your father since he passed away years before you met Bucky. Knowing what you did, you would never inflict that same experience on him.
"So what are you going to do?"
"I have to leave him.” You had been preparing yourself for what you needed to do all night. "If I go, there's a chance I might not come back, you understand that, right?"
"Don't say things like that," Sam said forcefully, clenching your hand. "Just stop. Bucky will support you all the way, you know that!"
"That’s exactly why I have to go by myself. I can't be selfish, Sam. I want him to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. I can’t make him drop everything to make me his number one priority. Looking after me will take time and constant care. If I go to England, he will abandon everything and come. Manhattan is his home.”
Sam looked anguished and you knew that he was disagreeing with everything you had just said, but you plowed on.
"It’s not just a matter of time and effort. If he stays, he will watch me die, and I don’t want him to do that.” You began to cry, and Sam hugged you, wishing he could say something comforting.
“It’s okay," you said through the tears, even though every fiber in your body was telling you the opposite. You had been repeating these words to yourself all night, as if you would believe it if you said it enough times. "It’ll be okay."
Maybe you were being stupid, but you didn't care. You knew Bucky loved you with his body and soul, as did you. But you weren’t going to let him suffer over your illness. You wouldn't let the person you cared most about in the world see you slowly deteriorate.
You had been witness to how your father was clearly in a depressive state, and yet tried his hardest to pretend to be happy and fine around other people. You didn’t know if you had the strength or bravery to even pretend.
You began distancing yourself. Stopped trying to make conversation with Bucky, until the long, endless, random talks you used to share diminished into curt sentences. You stopped waiting for Bucky to come home, simply pretending that you didn't care. You became more secretive, furtively hiding your calls with your doctor and your mother.
There was no other man. You loved him and only him, and had been nothing but faithful. You didn't know what hurt more: having to lie to Bucky or the fact that he so easily believed you would betray him like that.
In the end, you had really regretted fabricating a story of infidelity. You should have just gone your separate ways without making him think that you had been unfaithful. But at that time, you wanted to find a quick solution that would make Bucky voluntarily detach himself from you. It seemed like a wise decision, but you really, really wish you hadn’t let him believe that you didn’t love him. It was truly the worst feeling in the world.
It was all over in a few weeks. You packed your things and left, trying not to cry with every heavy step you took towards the door of your apartment. You knew you were making the best decision for them both, surely.
Time would heal Bucky, and he would be happy again one day.
It just couldn’t be with you.
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Present day
"She just didn’t want to feel like a burden to you, man," Sam said, shaking his head. "Why did you have to say all those things to her at the wedding?"
Bucky could register nothing else after Sam finished explaining everything. He was in disbelief, though he knew that there was no way Sam would fabricate a story like that.
Now, he could only think of the way he had shouted at you. The way he told you how much he hated you. The way you had left.
"Where is she?" Bucky whispered.
"She’s leaving today," Sam said tersely. "She’s going back to England. She was real sick for a long time, and she recovered a few months ago, but the cancer came back.”
He slipped a hotel business card into Bucky’s hand. “This is the address she’s staying at," Sam said.
He grasped it like a lifeline, eyes unable to see Sam standing in front of him. His vision was completely filled with images of you.
"Go," Sam said forcefully. "Go and find her.”
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The tears wouldn't stop falling.
You didn't know words could hurt so much. Sure, you had expected Bucky to hate you, but you weren’t prepared for the way every single word seemed to embed themselves into your skin like splinters into your heart.
They were once so happy. They were so perfect.
You hated yourself. Hated yourself for getting ill, for ruining what you had. The logic was irrational, but the self-hatred had become second nature.
You had spent the last few days holed up in your hotel. You had planned to use the time to see a few friends before returning to England, but you no longer had the heart.
You left your room that morning only because Wanda was furious that she missed you at the wedding, and you agreed to have coffee with her. She almost cried at the sight of you, but you put on a brave face, refusing to talk about Bucky. You begged her if you could just talk about happy topics and she eventually obliged, smiling sadly when you hugged each other goodbye.
“I’ll see you again, dear,” Wanda had said, and you hoped to God she was right.
As soon as you got inside your hotel room, you felt a switch click internally.
Everything hurt. You were tired, unhappy and you really didn’t know if you would ever make it out of this emotional blackhole. You felt so weak, like you would keel over at any given moment.
Cancer really was a bitch.
You kicked off your shoes and entered the bathroom. You lay down in the bathtub, fully clothed, turning the cold water on until you were almost completely submerged, wanting to numb all the pain inside your body and mind.
You eyes were red and swollen, and you couldn't remember crying so much since that day the doctor diagnosed you. Why was life so unfair? You wanted your old life back again. The life where Bucky didn't detest you, the one where he was happily and wonderfully in love with you.
You lay back, letting the water cover you completely. You closed your eyes, your hair gently swirling around your face. You opened your mouth and screamed, bubbles erupting to the surface.
Eventually you emerged, gasping and coughing, your tears hot in contrast to your frozen face. Your body wracked with sobs, shaking uncontrollably.
You sank back down into the water, your mouth opening once more to scream in uncontrollable rage. It was cathartic, your fists clenched into balls as you willed the feelings inside you to just - disappear.
When you opened your eyes beneath the water, you nearly gasped at the sight of a blurry, warped figure above you. You didn't have time to do anything when arms were suddenly encasing themselves around you, lifting you to the surface.
You spluttered and coughed, your ears assaulted by the voice that once whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
"- the fuck are you doing? Are you okay?"
Bucky.
You blinked past the water in your eyes, bewildered at the sight of him, kneeling beside the bathtub with his hands gripping your shoulders. His bright blue eyes were scared, wide open with concern.
You were startled at his sudden appearance, unable to say anything as he scooped you out, lifting you with ease. You were clearly in shock and scared.
You collapsed against him as he sat down on the bathroom floor with you in his arms.
"What were you doing?” Bucky was appalled as he pulled you close to him, watching how you continued to weep, blinking blearily at him. Your body was ice cold, every inch of you soaked.
He whipped a towel down from the railing beside you, wrapping it around your body as you shivered uncontrollably.
"Bu - Bucky?" You asked, as if you couldn't fathom why he was here. You were almost convinced you were hallucinating.
"Fuck, we need to get you out of these clothes," Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he tried not to cry. He had so much to say to you. He wanted you to know how sorry he was, how he didn't mean anything he said, but now wasn’t the time. He had to be strong for you.
You felt like a baby as Bucky removed your soaking wet garments until you were naked, then immediately swaddled you with more towels. He picked you up completely off the floor and took you out of the bathroom.
He chose to place you down on the edge of the bed, positioning himself to kneel down in front of you.
"Bucky," you whispered, voice thick, trying to pull away from him. “I think you should just leave me alone."
He stiffened. It scared him to hear you talk like this, to see you look at Bucky with such defeat in your eyes.
“No,” he said resolutely. “I'm here now, okay? I'm here, I'm not leaving, and I need you to be with me. I need you here, talking to me.”
"I can't. I can't do this anymore. Just go, please."
Bucky looked at you then. Really looked at you. The woman he loved and misunderstood for so long was now a trembling wreck in front of him, skin paper thin and trembling like a leaf. You looked so vulnerable and sad, and it made his heart twist.
Bucky suddenly held you tight against his chest, tucking his nose against the crook of your neck, and you didn't resist.
"Do you have any idea how much I hate myself? I hate myself for letting you go through this alone. I hate myself for telling you all those lies that night. I love you, I love you, I love you," Bucky said, wishing that you would see it.
“Don’t.”
“I wish you had told me. I would have helped you. You should have told me. I can’t believe you -”
You realized now that Sam must've told him the truth, and you sighed softly.
"I'm not good for you, Bucky," you whispered. "I will only ever hurt you, put you through more pain."
"I know everything now," Bucky said firmly. "No matter what happens, I will gladly endure it as long as it means we're no longer apart."
“Don’t be so stupid,” you said, anger tearing through your voice, though the tears were still falling. “I’m broken, Buck. I can’t give you a future. Please just find someone else - stay with Sharon.”
“Sharon?” If you hadn’t mentioned her name, Bucky would never have even thought about her. “No - we’re not serious, doll. She was never going to be the one.”
“No,” you insisted. “If not her, then fine, find someone else. Just not me.”
“Why aren’t you listening?” Bucky asked furiously. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please don’t do this. I need you." He was desperate to make you see, to make you understand. It was you or nothing. "You don’t know how awful the past few years have been. I don’t want to be apart from you, please.” He was prepared to grovel at your feet and beg.
He hated himself for how easily he gave up two years ago. This time, he was not letting you leave him.
His beautiful blue eyes pleaded with you, and you felt your barricades crumble. Your arms finally moved to wrap around him, and he felt a wave of relief as he encircled you in his arms. You had missed this, the feeling of Bucky holding you so tenderly.
You didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but you wanted to give in so badly and just let yourself be selfish and enjoy what time you could have together. And now that Bucky had you back by his side, he was definitely not going to let you go.
Even if they were in pieces, at least they were together. And Bucky was positive that they could put those pieces back into a whole, as long as you gave it a chance.
"You're so stupid," you said through your tears.
"I don't think so," Bucky said, managing the smallest smile. "Just stupidly in love with you."
You wanted to stay like this forever, entangled in each others arms. He pulled back slowly to study your face, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your lips. He kissed you again, deeper this time, breathing you in.
“You owe me two years of kisses,” he mumbled.
You laughed softly, but it soon died. First, you had a lot of talking to do. You used the following hour to tell him the details about your illness, why you had left, how sorry you were for treating Bucky the way you did when you broke up with him.
"You're so dumb," Bucky had said, sounding furious for a moment. "You had no right to decide something like that for me. You know I would support you.”
"I know, Buck," you had interrupted. "That's exactly why I had to leave. I didn't want you to see me die, okay?"
You had looked like you were about to cry again, so Bucky stopped scolding you immediately. He would never make you cry again, he swore.
"You're here now," he said, kissing your temple. "We're together now. Everything feels...right again."
You swallowed, biting your lip. "I told you, my cancer is back and -"
"You'll get better again," he said, refusing to look at you. You knew that tears were in his eyes. "You'll get better, okay?" His voice wavered slightly.
"It's worse this time, Bucky," you said. "Look at me. I'm practically withering away."
"You'll get better," he said, clenching his teeth.
You didn't say anything, just nestled against Bucky’s chest, relishing the way he wrapped his arms securely around your frame as if you would disappear at any moment.
Maybe he was right. Maybe by some miracle, with Bucky by your side, you would be able to give him all the time in the world.
"I'll try to stick around," you whispered.
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mysticwolfshadows · 2 days
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I see a lot of Arthur making Merlin Court Sorcerer after learning about his magic (and forgiving him for the lies). But I want to see more of... Arthur just not realizing how powerful Merlin is. Like, Arthur finds out, and then realizes that Merlin uses it for chores and dropping tree branches on bandits. He doesn't know about him being a dragonlord, or about Nimueh, or about the prophecy. So Arthur thinks Merlin is just another sorcerer.
So then, when the laws are changed and they're talking about getting a Court Sorcerer, Merlin isn't brought up at all. Merlin doesn't care, either, since he doesn't want a title. So they try one person, and they turn out to be shit, Gaius refuses because god damn he just wants to retire, and there may have been a few assassination attempts during interviews.
So Camelot doesn't have a Court Sorcerer forever, but they have sorcerers everywhere, and Arthur needs advice on magic, so he asks Gaius and Merlin, the only sorcers that he knows. So they teach him about what they know. Like warlocks being rare people with inate magic power. And how being able to cast spells without incantations is extremely difficult and only done by the most powerful of warlocks.
And then, almost a year into not hqving an offical Court Sorcerer, they're preparing for the 1 year celebration feast of the ban lifting, when an assassin shows up out of nowhere. And Merlin, tired and working overtime to get this feast ready, just shoots the assassin a look, and the man crumbles to the ground.
The knights and Arthur are just... so confused. And poke the motionless on the floor. And then look at Merlin, who is still smoothing out fancy linen tablecloths. Andd Arthur just kinda points and asks, "did you...?"
And Merlin just glances over and nods. And Arthur looses it.
"You used magic. Without an incantation. And you never told me you could?!"
Merlin just blinks. "Didn't think I had to?"
That night, at the feast, Arthur anounces Merlin as Court Sorcerer, much to Merlin's horror.
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samandcolbyownme · 1 day
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Summary: After years of being split apart from your group, due to being taken and relocated by the Saviors, you run in to not only one familiar face, but specifically, the one you were searching for this whole time.
Warnings: strong language, apocalypse setting, swearing, mentions of knives, guns, bows, other weapons, mentions of killing (both humans and zombies), some descriptive text, reader gets taken by the saviors, mentions of scars, fighting, AGE GAP - friends to lovers, reader likes Daryl, Daryl hides the fact that he likes reader, some flirting, nothing too spicy lol
Word count: 4.9k | not edited also my first Daryl fic so be nice :)
A/N - I’m writing this for me, yes, but I’m also this for the ones who have a problem, I mean… are attracted to men old enough to be their father, so please do NOT read if age gap relationships make you uncomfortable! This also is more or less my version of the walking dead, the group meets Negan, but not like in the show.
FIVE • YEARS • AGO
There was no denying that you were Daryl’s favorite person to go on runs with, anyone that just showed up could tell you that.
You were fast. Efficient. Very get in and get out type of girl. You didn’t fuck around, and Daryl loved that - but he’d never tell you that himself.
He also swore to never tell you that he wanted you around him because you made him happy in ways that he didn’t really like to talk about.
You were like a breath of fresh air to him, you picked up what he liked and what he didn’t like almost right away, you were one of the very few people that he didn’t get tired of being around all the time, hence why you join him every time he goes on a run.
He wasn’t much of a talker, the very first two runs together, you got a few mumbles out of him, mainly telling you where to go and when to look out.
But, that was until your third run of many run with Daryl. It would be silent, and he would almost scare you with just talking outright.
It wasn’t more than a, ‘how’s your day?’
Or maybe a, ‘ya sleep last night? Y’look tired’
You would always give him a quick, straight to the point response, ‘tossed and turned all night, might need a new blanket or somethin’
Or you would tease him slightly with something along the lines of, ‘Days better now that I’m out runnin’ around with my bestie.’
He says he hated when you called him that, but he would always chuckle and try to hide his smile by pointing out something ahead.
You would go with it, rolling your eyes subtly before you squint, “Daryl, I think you’re seeing things.” You look over at him, “or you’re just scared to talk to me.”
He’d scoff, “Ain’t scared of nothin’, darlin’.”
All you could do was smile and look away, mainly to hide the red on your cheeks from being spotted.
It really wasn’t that Daryl was scared, it was just, as slightly embarrassing as he thinks, he didn’t know how to talk to you.
He would always try to remind himself that you aren’t this delicate little flower, you can handle yourself. If you couldn’t, he would have never stumbled upon you.
You both would keep moving, not really stopping unless a walker or something came out of the tree line. The more runs you added to the list, the more you realized that you were patient enough to wait on him.
You really did have all the time in the world.
Were you also young and twenty one years old? Sure. But in this world, you’d always like to think, What’s it matter, really?
You had to roll with what you found, and you got lucky that day Daryl found you under a fallen tree - long story short, he helped you out and as soon as he knew your name, he couldn’t help but want to bring you home with him.
And that’s what he did.
Daryl has also spoken, well, more or less make comments to Rick about the girl from the woods. He’d beat around the bush as his eyes followed you across the way, watching as Carol showed you around, “y’know that girl I brought in?”
Rock would nod, “Y/n?”
A smirk would play sure Daryl’s lips as he replays you taking out two walkers at the same time, “Little young, though. Ain’t she?”
Rick shook his head, giving Daryl’s shoulder a squeeze as he stood up, “You deserve what ever makes you happy, Daryl. We make our own rules now.”
——
“There was a convenient store on the corner of one of these roads.” You look at Daryl then glancing behind you, “I figured.. if we don’t find it today.” You glance back and then forward, “We can try and hit it another day.”
“Would ya stop fuckin’ doin’ that?” He looks behind you and then at you, “really freakin’ me out today, y/n. What’s goin’ on with ya?”
“Sorry.” You sigh, shaking your head, “I just have this really weird feeling like we should have just stayed back today.”
“You wanna go back?” Daryl stops as you take a few steps ahead before turning around. He nods back, “We’re not that far away, if y’feel safer goin’ back-“
“I’m not letting you go out there alone.”
“I’m not goin’ back.” Daryl was stubborn, but so were you, “Then so am I.”
He scoffs quietly, shaking his head as he nudges you with his elbow, indicating you to walk with him. You turn, staying a little bit closer to Daryl as you make your way down the road.
About an hour away, you stand up from the last of the boxes in a semi fallen down shed, “Nothing.” You turn to Daryl and he shakes his head, “Got the same over here.”
“No where?” You look around the room and he shrugs, “should prolly just head back, it’s gonna get dark here soon.”
The weird feeling you had from earlier returns and you sigh, “Not to be annoying, but I can’t shake this feeling.”
Daryl clenches his jaw, “Alright, it’s alright.” He picks up his crossbow, “C’mon now.”
It’s the way Daryl makes your heart warm with the simple, nonchalant ways he makes sure you’re okay, trying to make sure you’re calm without actually letting you know that that is what he’s doing, but you know.
You’ve come to know Daryl better than anyone in the few short months you’ve been at Alexandria.
“Did somethin’ happen or, what?” Daryl asks as he glances over at you, trying to keep up with your slightly faster pace.
You shrug, “I just feel like something is going to happen, Daryl.” You look over at him, “Something bad.”
——
Your feeling was proven to be worth something because the moment you entered through the gates, you were gunned down, Daryl, too.
“Gimme your guns.” A tall man says in a sing-songy tone as he bends down, looking you right in your face, “And your cross bow.” He looks over to Daryl and Daryl wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.
The man stands up, walking over to lean down in Daryl’s face, “Now.”
“Y/n. Do it.” Rick says catching your attention. Only your eyes move towards Rick, hands up as a gun is pointed right next to his temple, “Daryl. You, too.”
“I’d listen to your boss man, alright. I don’t feel like killing anyone today, which is..” the man tilts his head, scratching at his temple, “Odd, but anyone. Consider this your one time act of kindness because I can promise you, from here on out, ain’t gonna be purdy.”
You tilt your head, taking your gun from your shoulder and laying it down. You take your pistol and set it down next to the rifle, “That’s all I have.”
“Mm.” The man tilts his head, “I don’t believe you.” He grips your bicep hard, causing you to yelp as he yanks you forward and onto your feet.
“Let her fuckin’ go!” Daryl yells, and you know he’s already trying to get up, but the moment you get to look back, there’s a gun in his face, blocking his view of you.
You’re thrown up against the side of the old and dusty moving truck, groaning as your head ricochetes off the side with a thump, “Fuck, ow!”
You bring your hand up, pulling it away to see red when you feel a wetness on your skin.
“You mother fu-“ Daryl starts to yell, but the man puts a gun to your temple, “I’m just trying to do my job, now shut the fuck up or I’ll really give you something to fucking yell about.”
You keep your eyes on Daryl, watching as his eyes quickly move between you and the man holding you hostage.
“I’ll keep it professional.” He taps your shoulder, “Arat. Come check her for weapons.”
You were scared shitless.
You didn’t want to die, or anyone else to die.
Who are these people, you thought as the woman behind you slid her hands roughly over your body, “Simon. This is her.”
You head shot up as Simon, supposedly, laughs, “No fucking way.” He steps back, “Negan is going to love this.”
“Who’s Negan?” Rick asks and Simon turns around slowly to look at Rick, arms spreading out to his sides slowly, “We’re all Negan.”
Simon points to you with his thumb, “Load her up.”
The uproar that happens within your people is instant and there’s a shot fired into the air, making you flinch.
“That’s e-fuckin’-nuff.” Simon yells, “The girl is coming with us, and there’s-“ he raises his voice, “Nothing you can do about it.”
He walks you back to the truck, motioning with his gun for you to get in.
You take one last look at Daryl before you start to get in, heading Simon chuckle as he sighs, “Maybe you’ll see her again, maybe you won’t. We’ll be back with more orders. Until then, stay the fuck here or more we will kill your beloved.. whatever she is to you.”
Simon looks at Daryl, “You got that Robin Hood?”
Daryl holds his heated stare onto him and that’s the last thing you see before the door shuts.
——
“Well, well, fuckin’ well. What do we have here?” A deep voice boasts from behind you. You wiggle your wrists and close your eyes, feeling a presence move around you to your front.
You open your eyes and you’re met with a rugged dude in a leather jacket, a baseball bat that’s wrapped in barbed wire tightly secured in his fist, “You must be the girl who knows her way around those dead fucks out there.”
“What are you talking about?” You look up, eyes meeting the tall, older man and he just chuckles, “A few of my men saw you take on a group, I dunno, five or six deep..” he points to you with each word, “..All. on. your. own.”
You shrug, “I’ve been out there a while.”
“And how longs a while, sweetheart?” The man asks, squatting down in front of you.
“Two years with a group, three on my own.” You say quietly, your brain reminding you about the night had no other choice but to go off on your own.
“Holy shit.” The man shakes his head, “You hearin’ this shit, Simon?”
“Arat said it was her. I can get Gavin to confirm, too.” Simon answers and the man nods, standing up to pull a chair over in front of you, “If I untie you, you promise you’ll play nice?”
You were disgusted. You wanted to go home.
You wanted Daryl. You wanted Daryl more than anything.
You nod, hands gripping the arm rests as his knife slides between your skin and the rope, flicking the blade upward to get it to cut open.
He repeats it to the other side and leans back, “You seem like you have a pretty name.” He tilts his head, fingers rubbing over the stubble on his chin, “Do you have a pretty name, sweetheart?”
“Y/n.”
“Y/n.” The man repeats in a whisper, “Damn. That is pretty.” He shakes his head, smirking as his eyes take in your, very nervous figure sitting in the chair, “Look.”
The man leans forward, “I’ll tell you this, alright.” You keep your eyes off of him, which seemed to upset him. His voice grew louder and his hand reached up to tightly grip your chin, “Look. At. Me. When I am talking to you.”
You force your eyes to his and he picks up speaking where he stopped, “You’re a little spit fire out there, okay. Which mean, you’re a delicacy to your little asshole groupies back at that shithole, what was it called? Alex- some for bullshit?”
“Alexandria.” You mumble out, keeping your eyes on his. He tilts his head back, his hand still gripping your chin, “Oh, oh. Right. Yes. Alexandria.”
The door behind you opens and the man drops his hand, “Gavin, my man. I need you to tell me if this is the girl you say in the woods a few weeks ago.”
The man stands up, spinning the chair around for, presumed, Gavin to see you. His eyes move over your body, “Does she have a tattoo or some sort of mark on the back of her left arm?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“When she lifted her arm, it-“
“Lift your arm for me, sweetheart.” The man spins you towards him and you have no other choice but to oblige, you strongly feel that the other choice is death, which you can not allow to happen now.
You pull your shirt sleeve up and the man scoffs, “Bing-fucking-o.” The man shakes his head, “Get a team together, we’re going to meet the people of Alexandria earlier than expected.”
He looks to you, “Take her up to a room. A good room. She hasn’t done anything to not deserve it yet.” He winks at you and you look down as you feel a hand grab your bicep to lift you to your feet.
“Do you have any questions for me?”
You stop, turning to look at the man with the baseball bat resting on his shoulder, “Who are you?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He walks over, tilting his head as he looks down at you, “I’m Negan.”
——
Your first day here was scary. You cried yourself to sleep, worried both about Daryl and the rest of Alexandria.
By the next morning, You were itching to get out, constantly looking for a way to escape, but they had so many people, no matter where you looked, you had eyes on you at all times.
To your surprise, the last week you spent with what you heard them call themselves, The Saviors, wasn’t in a stone cell like you pictured them doing the second you left that room on the first day.
You really didn’t know why.
You kill zombies, big deal. Doesn’t everyone else on this fucked up planet?
“Come with me, honey pie.” Simon says as he pulls you along with him, “Your time to shine.”
You’re taken outside, squinting at the brightness of the sun shining down from above. You couldn’t help but take a deep breathe, it’s the first time you’ve been outside in days.
“Get in and scoot over.” Simon commands and you climb up into the truck, your eyes meeting Negan’s as he steps up to sit into the passengers seat.
You don’t say a word to him. You just face forward as Simon smooshes you between him and Negan as he closes the door.
“So you and Robin Hood, huh?” Simon asks, referring to Daryl. You shake your head in response.
“Listen, sweetie. One thing we do around here, is answer people questions, with the words we learned how to speak. Got it?”
“Yes sir.” You say, clearing your throat, “No, me and.. Robin Hood are not a thing.”
“Seems to care about you like he does. You catch onto that Negan? The way he wanted to rip your throat out yesterday?” Simon chuckles, “Aw the look in his, man. I tell you what though, if looks could kill, you would have been dead.”
“Gonna have to take more than a nasty look to kill me.” Negan chuckles deeply, “Oh looky here.” He points, looking over at you as he sings, “honey.. we’re home.”
Your heart was racing as you seen Rosita motion to open the gate.
You watch her face shift into a shocked look when she caught glimpse of you through the windshield.
As you drive in, coming to a stop, you already see Daryl, front and center with Rick.
“C’mon.” Simon motions to you and you slide over, allowing him to help you down before you follow him around the truck. He pulls you closer to him, the click sending a shiver down your spine.
“Alright. Here’s the deal. You all want your badass, Duffy the zombie slayer black, but I don’t know.” Negan glances back at you, “She could be useful to me.”
You see Rick tighten his grip on Daryl’s vest and you send him a loving look.
“That thought didn’t even cross my mind, but you know what, how about this, If you want y/n back, give us half of your food today, and I want, we’ll make it easy.. ten guns by next week.”
“T-ten guns?” Rick asks baffled, “by next week? Negan that’s.. don’t you think that’s a little impossible?”
“Fine, make it fifteen by Friday, or you can say goodbye to the only chance you all actually have at surviving.” Negan points to you, “As you can she, she’s alive and well, now.”
Negan motions to the truck, “Let’s go.”
You shake your head and Simon grabs your arm roughly and you pull back, letting your fear get the best of you, “No, please. Nono, please no! No!”
Your pleads only set everyone on your side off, yelling and trying to push past the wall of Saviors.
Knives are drawn and you’re held to Negan’s chest, “Listen here! I make the rules. I have something you want and now, you’re going to go off and fuckin’ get me what I want. I’m done negotiating.”
“Negan, please. Just let y/n stay an I pro-“
Negan cuts Rick off, “You promise what, Rick? Huh? You already doubted yourselves with getting ten-“ He gasps, “Sorry, I mean fifteen by next Friday.”
He laughs, shaking his head, sighing as he brings his bat, Lucille, next for your face, “what makes you think you can handle the load of getting this thing here back.”
Daryl’s eyes squint as Negan calls you, this thing.
You swallow, glancing around.
You can take on six walkers, but not this many saviors, the walkers didn’t have rifles pointed at the people you’ve come to love and care for.
“Why are-“ Negan scoffs, “Why are we even still discussing this? You know what. Fine.” He pushes you to the back of the truck and you stumble, silently begging for help.
“If you’re going to cause this big of a fuss instead of just doing as I say..” Negan looks at you, “Then no one can.”
He shrugs, pointing Lucille at the open back, “Get in, or I kill someone.”
——
P R E S E N T • D A Y
You held your breath as you pushed your back up against the tree, waiting for the stray walker to move past you, knife at the ready just in case.
You slip around the tree, opposite way from the dead before you continue your journey through the woods.
It’s been, almost five years since you were left stranded in the middle of god knows where by Negan and his Saviors.
You weren’t even sure if they were still a thing or not, but jokes on them, you’re still alive.
And you’re full of fight.
You stopped at the river, bending down to feel the cool water on your fingertips. You’ve been walking all day, and you just needed to take a second.
You look up, taking in the scenery for a few moments before it all starts to becomes, familiar.
You stand up, looking around as your heart starts to pound. You shake your head, laughing slightly as you bend down to grab your bag.
If this is the river you were thinking of, then this river runs directly past your grandfathers cabin, and you can only hope that if Daryl was alive and out there looking for you, that he comes this way.
He should know about this, you stumbled upon it while on a run the one day. You remember about it, but all you knew was that it was next to the river that looked really pretty when the sun was setting, and it still does.
You only had about two hours of sunlight left, and you didn’t know how far you had to go yet, or even if you were going in the right direction.
If this cabin was here, maybe you could finally get a decent nights sleep, that is if it isn’t destroyed by walkers and the storms that plow through.
“I’m going to go get some more firewood.” A woman’s voice sounds through the trees. You stop, moving, furrowing your brows as you try and listen, but she’s already moving, walking away from the small building.
Your cabin.
You feel like you could throw up.
You turn around, trying to see if you can get a glimpse of who she was talking, too, but nothing.
“Raise your hands and turn around slowly.”
You whip around, catching her off guard before her face settles, “Holy shit.” Carol laughs slightly, “Daryl is going to lose his mind.”
She pulls you into a hug and you hear her sniffle, “oh my god, look at you.” She leans back, hands sliding over your hand and down your face, “You grew up.”
You smile slightly, your mind going back to who’s in the cabin, “Is he in there?”
“Every chance he got.” She shakes her head, “So much has happened.” You see the pain in her eyes but you opt to keep things happy right now, “we can talk later. I want to see Daryl first.”
She nods, brushing hair from your face, “Im so happy you found your way back.”
“It was hell, but right now, totally worth it.” You take a deep breath, “You go in first.”
She nods, walking a head of you as she leads you back towards the cabin, “Hey Daryl.” Carol calls as she smaller back at you, “I found something that you’re going to want to see.”
You stand by the fire, the glow illuminates you as you stand there waiting to see his face for the very first time in five years.
The feelings you had, never went away.
“What’d ya fi-“ His face falls and his arms go limp by his sides as he shakes his head, “No fuckin’ way.”
Tears well up in your eyes as Daryl slowly steps down off the porch, “No fuckin’ way.” He looks at Carol and back to you before quickly making his way over to you.
“Where the hell ya been?” He grabs you, pulling you into his chest tight, “I thought you were dead, I-.” He leans back, looking over your slightly older looks.
“Negan told us that he watched you get attacked by walkers.” Carol chimes in, finishing what Daryl couldn’t, “He brought back your necklace, there was blood on it.. we didn’t..”
You keep your hands on Daryl, your fingers moving under the sleeve of his jacket, “Negan snapped that necklace off my neck before they dumped me in the middle of nowhere.”
Daryl scoffs, pulling you closer to rest his chin on your head. Carol smiles as she watches the affectionate radiate off of him.
“They drove me way past the city, too. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure they drugged me or something because I was out for most of the trip.”
You feel Daryl’s grip tighten with your words and you shake your head, laying a hand on his bicep, “So much happened.”
You think back to all the stuff you had to do just to make it back to here, cringing at yourself.
“Ya hungry?” Daryl asks changing the subject and you nod, “Starving.”
——
Since the minute you found them, Daryl hasn’t left your side, and Dog right by his.
You were able to handle the news of the deaths and destruction among your group and homes, it hurt to hear, but it’s better that you know how than walking in expecting everything to be all sunshine and rainbows.
ou cried, but there was one question you needed the answer to.
“Are the Savior’s gone?” You looked up at Carol as she looks to Daryl. Your attention moves to him and he nods, “Ah, yeah. Yeah. But..”
“What?”
“Negan is at Alexandria.”
You’re on your feet, “What.”
“It’s only tem-“
You turn, walking away from Carol as she tries to explain, but you walk over to a tree, pressing your hand into it.
As you take a few deep breathes, you feel someone walking up to you, “I just need a minute.” You tilt your head, closing your eyes as you swallow the feeling of wanting to puke away.
“S’alot to process.” Daryl mumbles, unsure of what to do, “Take your time.”
Do you resent him now?
Are you going to leave again?
He wanted you to know everything, but he wouldn’t have if that meant you leaving again.
“Daryl?” You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks, “Sorry I just..” he shakes his head, “please don’t leave me again.”
“Leave you again?” You laugh slightly, letting out a sigh, “Why would you think that I’d leave you? I’ve been looking for you.”
“I haven’t stopped. I came here because I-“
You smirk slightly, “Because you actually paid attention to your bestie?”
He gives you a small smirk, shoulders heaving as he laughs ever so slightly, “You’ve changed..” Daryl brushes his hand over your hair, his thumb gently brushing over your face, His brows furrow, “when did you get this?”
His finger brushes over the scar on your top lip, “Did someone do this t’you?”
“One of those assholes that pushed me out of the car, hit my face on a rock.” You shake your head, “It’s just a scar, Daryl.”
Which was one of many you have received.
“Sorry I-“
“Don’t. Don’t do that.” You shake your head, “What happened to me wasn’t your fault, okay.”
All he does is nod but you frown slightly, “Have I ever told you that I liked you?”
“I don’t think you’d come on runs with me if ya didn’t.” Daryl looks at you and you tilt your head, “No, like..” you bite your lip and sigh.
He laughs slightly, “M’old enough to be your daddy, y/n.” You smirk up at him, getting ready to say something but he pulls you towards him, “Watch out.”
Natural instinct, you have your knife in your hand within a second and you both swing around, the blades of your knives entering the dead’s skull in unison.
You look at the knives and back to Daryl, “Either way I look at it.” You pull your knife from the walker, “You and I will always have unfinished business to take care of.”
Daryl shakes his head as he withdrawals his knife, “You think?”
You lay your hand on his chest, “I know.”
You couldn’t let yourself feel what you’ve pushed through, but both Carol and Daryl can see that.
“Hi, boy.” You bend down to pet Dog, your shirt riding up to reveal a slightly bigger scar than on your lip. Daryl’s eyes fixate on it right away and he clenches his jaw.
Before he can ask, you stand up, “You fix up everything?”
“Yeah, go take a look.” Daryl sniffles and walks towards Carol as you walk into the cabin. Memories of growing up here flood through, almost breaking that barrier until Dog pushes between your legs, whining as he trots in.
“Do you need anything?” Carol asks walking up beside you. You shake your head, hesitating to look over at her at first, “No, no. I’m good.”
“We can head back to Alexandria in the morning.” She rubs your back, “It’s really good to have you back.”
You smile, nodding, “It’s really nice to not be alone.”
“What happened out there?”
You shake your head sluggishly, “I don’t-“
“Okay.” She says quickly as Daryl walks in. You look up at him, “I think I’m going to go lay down.” You walk over to where your bag is and sit down.
You bring your knees to your chest, eyes focusing on Dog as he glows in the light of the fire.
A few moments later, Daryl’s footsteps move closer to you. He stays silent as he moves to sit next to you. He brings his arm out, laying it around your back as he pulls you into his side.
You immediately fall into him, your head on his chest, arm around his torso. He inches back, just enough to lean against the wall for support.
Daryl looked down at you, gently playing with strands of your now long hair, it was just a little past your shoulders when you were separated.
You lost weight from having to scavenge for any food that was safe to eat.
He knew what you went through was tormenting you, he just wanted you to know that you aren’t alone.
“Look at me, y/n.”
You roll over into your back, head in his lap as you stare up at him.
“When you’re ready to tell someone, m’here f’ya.”
You close your eyes as his hand strokes over your hair. You haven’t felt this safe in a while, so you were just trying to soak it all in without having to worry every single second of the day and most nights.
“I love you.” Daryl whispers, “Should’ve told you that years ago.”
“It’s about time you say those words to me, Daryl Dixon.” You sit up, keeping your chest on his arm as you lean in, “I love you.”
——
I started to hate this towards the end but I NEEDED to get this off of my chest. I hope you enjoyed. As always, I love you so much. Thank you for reading! 🖤
likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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so-that-was-okay · 3 days
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In 2x09 Hen Begins, we get to see past Tommy being a jerk. But as I said in a previous post (that I can't find), my headcanon is that you can see how he's always looking at Gerrard for some kind of validation or a sort of sign to follow. He's always looking at the Asshole in Chief to make sure his behavior fits the one his leader expect him to have.
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Here they welcome Hen like a bunch of pricks. Tommy is looking at Gerrard to know what reaction would be appropriate for him to have. Chim is further on the right, disagreeing with the way Gerrard is handling Hen's arrival. (also Lou, stop torturing your fingers lmao)
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Here Chim says he thought Hen was from the East Coast. Then Tommy makes a remark about New York bitchiness because Hen is rightfully sassy. Chim calls Tommy out, then Tommy is seeking approval from Gerrard. He could just own his remark but he doesn't. He needs validation. He knows Gerrard would never tell him he's going too far, definitely not for saying this. But he's looking for a sign that would tell him he's acting the right way. Gerrard says nothing.
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And when Hen finally says her piece like the queen she is, Tommy, once again, turns to his leader. It could also be to Chim, their eyes definitely meet anyway. But by now, we know that Tommy is following whatever cues he gets from Gerrard.
We talked about how closeted gay men can be really awful in order to pass: misogyny, racism, homophobia, and more. Anything to "look the part" among the boys to make sure no one finds out about them. And honestly, I don't even know if those acting choices were conscious but they really fit Tommy's storyline so perfectly. We also know some people are more followers than leaders anyway, closeted queer or not. But that would be a very happy coincidence.
Tommy was a jerk, yes, absolutely, but there were signs that told a bigger story.
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