Life Sucks But At Least You Didn't Get Divorced, Attend The Golden Globes Physically Attached To Your

im just a girl 😔🫡😕

”ur so sensitive omg” THEN BE NICER TO ME PLEASE

Superheroes struggle with mental health.

Tony Stark has anxiety and PTSD

Bruce Banner has depression and suicidal tendencies

Steve Rogers has survivor's guilt, PTSD, and suicidal tendencies

Bucky Barnes has PTSD

Clint Barton has depression

Sam Wilson has PTSD

Wanda Maximoff has depression and struggles with grief

Thor has depression, binge-eating disorder, and alcoholism

Natasha most likely suffers from PTSD and childhood trauma

Steven/Marc has Dissociative Identity Disorder

Peter Parker suffers from grief and possibly PTSD/depression

Thena has dementia

Peggy Carter suffers from memory issues

Rocket Raccoon has PTSD and depression

Nebula has PTSD

Gamora has PTSD

Peter Quill struggles with grief and anger issues

Drax has PTSD, anger issues, and struggles with grief

(Lets just face it all of the Guardians have at least one mental illness)

This doesn't even cover all of them. I just feel like our lil mentally unwell superheroes deserve more recognition for fighting even when things are hard.

The Anthology 'verse

Artwork by @faith2nyc

An outlet. That's all Natasha Romanoff thought these trysts with Steve Rogers, her costar in the much-anticipated Summer blockbuster, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, would be. After all, when she's Hollywood's most notorious bad girl and he's America's sweetheart, that's all these could ever be - the warm, fuzzy feelings that have suddenly found a permanent home in her chest every time she looks at him be damned.

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Bolter

Chapter 2: Fortnight

Chapter 3: Down Bad

Chapter 4: I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

Chapter 5: imgonnagetyouback

Chapter 6: So High School

Chapter 7: But Daddy I Love Him

Chapter 8: The Tortured Poets Department

Epilogue

Updates weekly Also available on AO3

i kinda want to watch the drama just because of the outfits jshsksks the stylist deserves a raise

Chewie: And the (Possible) History of Gillovny

It all began in October 2013, when David and Gillian did a Reddit AMA:

When someone asked David about being in Twin Peaks:

And he made the statement that he “looked like Chewbacca” and asked “was Chewbacca a girl?” 

Keep reading

As a slut for angst today “tolerate it” has been stuck on a loop and now I am imaging an angsty fic where Az just slowly begins to forget about reader and she threatens to leave but he doesn’t take her seriously and is so utterly destroyed when he comes back home and she’s gone…

Like I feel like it’s on brand with him and his duty to his job and whatnot. Plus the lyrics are so him coded “while you were out building worlds where was I” / “took this dagger in me and removed it” LIKE HELLO???

(But I also love a good happy ending so I feel like if azzy groveled hard enough… 👀)

Tolerate it.

Summary: She is fed up.

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A/n: ehehehehehe angsttttt yummy yummyyyy

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n laughed at Feyre's pathetic attempts at skipping the large puddle on the ground accumulated due to the rains that had Velaris freezing overnight.

Feyre failed miserably, her boots and leggings getting wet from the splash that signalled her downfall against the watery enemy of hers. But Feyre was not fazed. She simply laughed alongside Y/n, her eyes crinkling as the two of them made their way back to the river house.

It was visible already now, Y/n could even make out the grains in the wood of the door as it opened, and her brother in laws, along with her mate, spilled out.

Y/n could see from the corner of her eyes as her sister lit up at seeing her mate, her husband and the father of her child. The moment his eyes met her, she took off, her arms spread as she ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Rhysand did not hold back either, clutching Feyre to her chest with as much enthusiasm as she held him.

It made Y/n smile.

Y/n then glanced behind the embracing couple to her mate, the overwhelming urge to hug him too and to claim him in front of anyone watching making her start walking towards him without even realising.

Which was reckless, as the moment he realised she was walking towards him to hug him? He took a step back.

Y/n knew that he hated being affectionate in front of others, but this was cruel.

So to not get embarrassed by his rejection, Y/n turned swiftly towards Cassian, her other brother in law, who stood not too far from where Azriel did, and hugged him instead.

Cassian, Mother bless his heart, did not even question it.

He wrapped his arms around Y/n and literally lifted her off the ground, cackling when Y/n's fist made contact with his shoulder over and over again as she demanded to be put down.

Y/n had to stop herself from thinking back to that day. She did not want to relive the pain she had felt, the sadness and anger.

Y/n watched his eyes fluttering, wondering if he was dreaming. Wondering who he was dreaming about.

It definitely was not her, that was for sure.

Y/n, feeing a little sadness taking root in her heart, returned to the portrait in her hands, questioning if it would even be worth it finishing it up when he sure as hell wouldn't even acknowledge it. Or her.

Y/n glanced at the paint supplies she had placed on the coffee table next to her, having wanted to capture a moment of him letting his guard down, of him being vulnerable using her best paints, knowing he would not care.

She guessed living for as long as he had, life and the small things didn't matter as much anymore. Maybe that was why he loved to go on the missions Rhysand, Y/n's brother in law, gave him.

It probably gave him the thrill nothing else did anymore.

With Y/n's sister just having given birth to the starlight of the court, Rhys had become more and more protective, sending his brothers and anyone and everyone at his disposal to check and report about every trivial thing that made his primal mate and father side get protective.

Slowly, Y/n reached for the brush that rested in the cup half filled with coloured water, deciding to finish the half done portrait. If he did not care... she did not now what she would do then, but she did know she was tired of being tolerated by him.

But what could she even do? It was not like she could just up and leave.

Y/n blinked.

Or... could she?

Y/n shook her head, as if to dislodge the though, and with a sigh, she let herself get lost in the soft skill of painting her sister had taught her long ago, when staying up and huddling under worn blankets was the only thing bringing any warmth.

Trying not to think about the fact that the last time she remembered him caring for her, genuinely caring for her, was only when the two had been in their early stages of relation ship and the mating bond was a very new experience to a newly made fae Y/n, she continued using the soft and strong, long and short strokes to finish up her latest masterpiece.

Of course, Y/n never would call herself a creator of masterpieces, but any and all art that included her perfect mate was destined to be a masterpiece.

Time lost its meaning, and all that mattered was capturing the perfect angle for his eyes, nose, lips, shoulder.

Nothing existed but Y/n, her art, and her muse.

Nothing existed but the soft rise and fall of his back as he lay sprawled on his stomach, the effortless way his wings draped across the whole bed, taking up space three wingless fae could have slept in.

Where Y/n would have slept in, on days when everything had been filled with stars and dreams, wrapped under his warm wing like it were a living blanket.

When he pretended he was nothing, absolutely nothing but her mate. Her husband. Not a spymaster, not a shadowsinger, not a brother. Just her mate, her lover.

Those days were far gone now.

•○🌑○•

Despite the fact that she knew he would most definitely not care, Y/n was excited.

And that was downplaying what she felt.

The wait was killing her, the amount of adrenaline in her bloodstream making her want to jump around to get rid of the energy that made her shiver, her limbs going cold and warm at the same time. She had to push her fists together and shove them between her thighs to keep them from shaking, which did not help at all.

So Y/n waited, her body clenched in anticipation as she stared at the doorway that led into the living room, a big grin on her face.

She glanced once at the sketchpad in front of her on the table, admiring her artwork for a moment.

She never liked whatever she made, always feeling like it lacked something. So for her to be excited to show off her art to her mate was a huge indication to how much she loved the portrait.

The familiar scuff of worn boots drew Y/n's attention, and she shot to her feet, pressing her fists to the back of her thighs.

It had become a habit of Azriel's, to purposefully make some noise before he stepped in view so as not to startle her with his appearance.

The action melted Y/n's heart every single time.

He stepped into view, as ethereal as the day Y/n had first seen him as a human, just as beautiful as he had looked that day as he tried to get comfortable on the small chair in the manor on the other side of the wall, just as loveable as that day when she had ended up losing her heart to the low born fae that should have intimated her.

He was fumbling with his armor, making sure it was all secured properly before he left for whatever mission Rhys assigned him for that day.

He glanced up just as he walked past Y/n to the kitchen counter, a small smile gracing his face before his attention was again diverted.

Y/n tried not to deflate at his lack of enthusiasm.

"Good morning love. Look-"

"Good morning Y/n." He cut her off, his voice void of emotions, as if he was tired of saying the same thing every morning and wanted to get it over with. He didn't even glance at Y/n as he said it, and Y/n pretended not to notice that he used her name instead of whatever endearing name he would have picked before.

"I will be on a scouting trip to Illyria, and after I have a meeting and dinner scheduled with Rhys and Cass, so I will be late coming home. Don't wait up."

Y/n's smile faded. "Don't wait up or stay out of my way?"

Azriel froze. "What?"

Y/n released a humourless laugh. "Nothing. Go have fun."

Azriel turned, giving her a hard look. "You know I would rather stay at home with you."

Doubtful.

Y/n so badly wanted to say it to his face, but she did not want to fight with him so early in the morning, so she sighed, smiled and nodded.

He started walking towards the door, and despite her anger, Y/n walked forward to kiss his cheek.

She did not miss how he recoiled.

Y/n masked the hurt before he could see it, and he gave her an awkward smile before he maneuvered to walk around her, careful not to brush against her.

Y/n watched him walk away, staring hard at the door even long after he'd left.

She then glanced at the portrait she had abandoned on the table, and, her heart hardening, turned away.

She was tired of having her love be tolerated, and she would not have it be that way anymore.

Either he accept her love the way it was, loud and clear, or he go find someone else.

And so, she turned, walked up the stairs to the bedchambers she shared with Azriel, and began to turn it back into just his bedchambers.

She would no longer be tolerated only because some godly entity thought she and him would make great, powerful kids and tied them together with a string.

She deserved to be cherished.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

Sweat & Tears

“Are you sure?” the red-haired woman looks at the blonde in front of her, who clearly struggles to take off her sandals. It’s silent in the room, two security guards waiting in the door frame for her. Tree can see clearly how Taylor's hands are shaking, almost like a tremor that has been brewing inside of her for a few hours. She’s fiddling with the buckle of her Gucci heels. Truth is, she’d prefer for Taylor to spend her evening in company of her father and herself over a nice dinner in her suite. Besides the many phone calls Tree has to make, she still cares about Taylor’s well-being first and foremost. And by the sight of it, she absolutely is not well. But knowing the blonde stubborn woman as well as she does, Tree could already tell by the minute they left the venue that Taylor is once again in a rather self-isolating mood. 

“Do you need anything?” she asks then, still watching the long blonde sitting on the couch of her hotel suite, knowing very well that she didn’t get an answer to her last question.

“Do you have water? Let me know if you need anything else. Dinner will be served as soon as you…”

“I told you, I’m not hungry.” Taylor responds then in a tone that tells Tree everything she needs to know. One more push and Taylor might actually loose her temper. She sighs.

“Alright. Call if you need anything. Alex is on call next door. These guys will be just outside your hotel room door for safety.” She says and points to the men right behind her. She looks at Taylor one last time, who is still sitting on the hotel couch, obviously exhausted and down. She doesn’t want to push her any further, but she can’t contain a last “get some rest, Tay. I know this was a rough few days but you’re doing great.”

Taylor doesn’t reply, once more, and Tree gets the message. She gives the three men next to her a look, signaling them to ensure that her door is secured at all times. Tree then leaves the presidential suite, and the big door falls into the lock. 

And suddenly, Taylor's alone. Completely alone. 

She takes a deep breath. She just needs to shower it off. With her hair in a loose bun she covers her eyes for a moment sitting there. She’s tired. So tired. But every time she tries to relax, there’s the same picture in her head. Beautiful Ana’s smiling face. The fact that this young person had to loose her life because she decided to give a concert. Taylor immediately gets up. This thought is unbearable. She needs to stop thinking about this. She walks barefoot over the burgundy carpet of her suite, makes sure the curtains are fully closed before opening the bed sheets. She’s been waiting all day for this. 

Within one second, Taylor has gotten comfortable under these heavy sheets. The air conditioning in the room is on full mode, and she’s thankful for this cooling sensation of the bed sheets on her bare legs. The incredible feeling of crawling into bed after a horrible day. Another thing that Ana will never experience again…

Just when Taylor was about to get lost in these thoughts again is when her phone vibrates for what feels like the fifteenth time tonight. She knew that her mom and Travis had been texting her. But the last thing she could do earlier was to be on the phone when everything went down. Her desperately waiting in her way too warm and stuffy dressing room. Her dad walking up and down, telling her that it’ll be alright and that everybody is on her side. Sweat dripping down her forehead. Tree being on the phone constantly and a bunch of translators running back and forth. And her? Useless just in between the chaos. She wasn’t able to tell anyone at home what was going on. There was no space. No silence. No room to breathe.. until now.

Taylor opens her iMessage chat with Travis and swallows. 18 notifications. 7 calls. He’s worried. Not just because she didn’t pick up or reply to his texts for hours now but also because he had to find out that this show, that she’s been terrified of playing all day, had been postponed last minute through an instagram post on her official handle. Never before did he have to find out something like this through social media.

Your dad told me you’re unwell. Call me when you can. No need to go through this on your own.

His last text makes her smile slightly. He never fails to show her support. And as shocked as she is that he went to the lengths of calling her father, it shouldn’t really surprise her that much. These two have hit it off to an almost greater degree than she and Travis have. Her dad adores him. No wonder these two are chatting behind her back. 

Taylor takes a deep breath, opens her front camera for a second. She looks horrific, tries to fix her bangs for a moment before calling him back. Yes, she knows he won’t care what she looks like but she still wants him to not see her at her worst. Not just yet. Just when Taylor is about to leave her bed to fix her face and her hair is when she gets an incoming FaceTime call from him. She hesitates for a second, then decides to go for it anyways. 

The second he appears on her screen is the second she feels tears boiling up again. She doesn’t know why, but something about seeing his kind face and the worried look in his eyes opens the flood gates for her. She needs him. Oh lord, how much she would love to tell herself that it isn’t so.

“Oh baby” is all he brings out for a second. The little tear escaping Taylor’s eye and rolling its way over her cheek hasn’t remained unnoticed by him. She doesn’t say anything, just makes sure to wipe the incoming tears as much as humanly possible.

“I’m sorry, I…” just when she was about to apologize for how he’s witnessing her right now is when he interrupts her already. 

“Tell me everything. I just got home from practice and I’m all yours. Your dad said there was some issues with the people there again?” 

Taylor takes a deep breath, glad that he’s there. Glad that she can talk about it. Glad that she knows he wants to listen.

“It’s a nightmare. I told you this morning how they threatened Tree and 13 that I’m contractually obligated to perform because apparently the circumstances aren’t as bad as they need to be for a show like this to be cancelled. Like..” Taylor can barely find words to describe her anger, just feels angry tears following the ones from before while her hands are making a grand gesture.

“I mean, a young girl has died... DIED the day before and they don’t think this is as bad as it gets? And Tree also told them about my little incident last night and…”

“Thank god!” Travis interrupts her. She knows the second he learned about her fainting backstage after the show, was the second he himself started to worry more than she would want him to.

“Yeah but, they basically still wanted us to go through and then they finally agreed to providing free water if we cover the costs. Which is something they shouldn’t even charge anyone for, but like.. of course I would pay for that. I didn't even care. And yet once people started getting seated and the arena got more and more packed, there was no water being handed out to people. Nothing. If… if my team hadn’t flagged this, I probably never would’ve known, Trav and…”

“This is unbelievable.” He just says, sighs deeply and is clearly angry too. He’s sitting on his couch, wearing one of her beloved huge sweaters that she’s been stealing so often. What would she give to cuddle herself into his chest, feel his big arms hold her tight and simply fit her little big world into the palm of his kind hands right now.

“Yup. So I just posted it. On Instagram. Because there was no getting out of the show unless I pull the plug myself. They’re threatening us with a lawsuit now, but..”

“Oh fuck that. No chance.” he says and she nods. Hard to imagine that she doesn’t even care about this possible lawsuit at all. There’s so many other things she cares about more in this moment. 

“Well, besides that. We reached out to Ana’s parents and… they’re in shock. They hate me. They disagreed to speak to me. And..” 

Taylor wants to continue speaking but the lump in her throat is growing to a size that makes it hard to breathe for her.

“I’m sure they don’t hate you.” he says, cannot stand seeing his girl cry all alone in this hotel bed, on the other side of the earth. He’s never been closer to jumping on the next plane there as he’s been right now. 

“Well, they’re in shock I assume. And they have every right to hate me. And then on top of all this the hotel is swarmed by people. They have basically taken the cars we took from the venue because my team covered the license plates. For safety. Literally to not get chased on the fucking high way. But no chance. So now, all we can do is just stay at this hotel and hope for tomorrow to be better and…”

She stops then, knows that she’s just been rambling for a while now. And as much as she hates to present this anxious and crying version of herself to Travis, she kind of feels a lot better all of the sudden. It felt good getting it off her chest. It felt good just telling somebody that she’s not doing well. A few last hiccups escape her mouth and she’s drying her face with her hands. Her eyes are puffy, red and swollen. But she doesn’t even care anymore. There’s so many worse things that can happen than looking like this.

“Oh Tay..” he says then. Doesn’t move from where he sits, just straight up looks at her through his phone. 

“Yup.” she just says, knowing damn well that no one knows what to say about this nightmare weekend. She feels bad all of the sudden to put all these heavy feelings on him, especially because he never asked her to.

“I’m sure every single person you spoke with tonight has said this to you before, but I’ll say it again.” he says then, a serious look on his face. She’s never witnessed him like this before and it definitely draws her attention even more to the screen than before. 

“None of this, was in your power. None of this.” he says, and she knows he means it. Taylor takes another deep shaky breath and looks back at him. She nods. Hearing him say these words almost makes it possible for her to believe them. 

“I know, you take pride in having control over things and organizing and planing things to a tee. But there’s always gonna be stuff out of your control, and sometimes things go horribly wrong. But that’s absolutely out of your control. I hope you know that, babe.”

She looks at him for a moment, doesn’t say anything. Then she nods. Why is it that she believes anything he says? 

“I know. It’s just…” she stops, feels new tears forming. For a moment, she’s collecting herself again. Travis can see what she’s doing. She’s trying to hold back her tears. He hates it. 

“Hey, it’s okay to cry sometimes. Don’t try to play it all cool with me. I hate when you do that.”

Taylor almost starts laughing through her tears, and so does Travis. 

“I just… I’m sure you had an exhausting day today as well and all we talk about is me again. And…”

“Shut up.” Travis interrupts her again, and Taylor just wipes her tears. 

“I had a boring day. All I was thinking about all day was you. I love you. I’m worried about you. Stop playing it cool with me. It’s okay to cry about this.”

Taylor doesn’t move. Her head is leaning against the velvet bed rest behind her. She looks awful and for a moment she doesn’t care because she can feel that he doesn’t. She nods. Tears still streaming down her face.

“I miss you. And... I love you, too.” 

It still feels weird knowing that these words escape her mouth as casually as they do, but it feels so good and so right. She loves him. He loves her. Unbelievably beautiful to travel the world with this knowingness in her heart and head.

Travis sighs deeply from where he is. He slowly sits up. The iPhone camera still right in front of his face. 

“Do you think I’d get in trouble if I call in sick tomorrow and coach Reid sees pictures of me sneaking into your hotel in Rio?” 

Taylor can’t help but laugh quietly. She knows he wants to be there for her. But she’s gonna be fine. Knowing that he’s there, in her life, just a call away, is enough for her to know that she’s gonna be fine. 

“Let’s not get you into any more trouble than you're already in now.” she says jokingly then, for the first time tonight there’s no tears coming down her cheeks. It’s been healing to see his face, to hear his voice. The calm after a storm. A warm hug after a horrible day. That's what this is for her. That's what he's been for her since the moment he walked into her life.

“Tay, I’m worried about you.” He says then, and she knows this time it’s him who’s becoming vulnerable. It feels ridiculously good to know he cares. Even though she’s almost embarrassed to have put him in this position. It’s all new between them, still. He’s never had to deal with her lows before. She never had to ask herself if this could be too much for him, as it has been for everyone before him. 

“Don’t be.” 

“No, I’m serious.” He says then. The look on his face is still gentle and kind but she knows he’s being serious about this.

“I don’t mean the fact that you’re upset or that your show is cancelled but I’m worried about your physical health and your safety. Have you had dinner yet?” 

“Baby, I know you’re worried and it’s so sweet but I can assure you that Tree and my team are taking care of me very well. There’s like five guys in front of my hotel room door right now, and..”

“Have you had dinner yet?” he asks again and she knows he knows. He’s been incredible when it comes to her sometimes problematic eating habits, ever since she told him about this topic. Never before did he ever comment on anything she’s done or hasn’t done in relation to food. But her collapsing backstage last night did something to him. It’s in his eyes, it’s in the way this question comes out of his mouth so firmly. He's scared. He cares.

“I’m still a bit nauseous from the heat and..”

“Did you get an IV?”

“I didn’t need one today. I didn’t perform. So..”

“You said it was incredibly hot in your dressing room? Didn’t you spend all day there? That's not the best way to spend a day before performing for three hours in the heat.”

“Yeah but it was fine. It’s just.. whenever it’s hot I can’t really eat much. So…”

“Baby, please make sure to eat something tonight and drink enough water. I also still think another IV before your show tomorrow would be a good idea.”

She takes a deep breath and nods. He’s right. He always is. But what she appreciates the most in this moment is the tone of his voice. He’s assertive. But he’s gentle. A combination that impressed her from the moment they met. 

“I know.” she just says. 

“I almost had a heart attack when your dad told me you passed out last night.” he says, and she sighs. She knows this incident scared him. She can’t blame him. If she were to ever get a call from his mom, telling her that he fainted on the other side of the world she would probably lose her damn mind. 

“It’s just… performing like that for three hours at 140 degree? It’s horrible.”

“I bet.” he says quickly. “And I’m so glad you cancelled tonight.” 

Taylor nods. Somehow, just hearing him say these things really calms her down slowly. 

“I miss you. I’m not dealing with it too well at the moment.” she says once more, and his mouth turns into this beautiful smile she loves so much. 

“Me too. It’s been so hard focusing on anything after Argentina. After seeing you perform, sleeping in one bed with you. Kissing you good morning. I could get used to that.” 

Taylor smiles instantly, and nods. He speaks her mind, once more.

“Can’t wait to see you next week. Even though I’ll miss Thanksgiving. It breaks my heart, but..”

“Hey, we’ll do our own little post-Thanksgiving dinner. Don’t worry about that.” 

“Trav?”

“Mhm?”

“Thanks for being there for me tonight. I feel so much calmer than I did half an hour ago.”

The man on the other side of the screen smiles at her once more. He’s so happy to be this person for her. He’s so happy to have this effect on her.

“See, that’s what I’ve been telling you all along. Whenever we speak, my day gets 99% better. Just after seeing that face.”

She giggles quietly. 

“How are you? How was practice?” she asks then, wishes she had asked him before earlier. She hates when it’s all about her. He knows that. 

“Was good. Nothing special happened. Just got home, ordered some food and might pop into Brit’s Thanksgiving dinner later tonight.”

“Oh my gosh, yes! How could I forget? Ugh I can’t believe I won’t be able to go. Give her a hug from me okay?”

Travis smiles and nods.

“Of course. I won’t stay long though because I have physiotherapy tomorrow super early.” he sighs and it makes Taylor smile. He usually doesn’t mind getting up early but he definitely does on a Sunday morning. 

“What are you doing now? Are you in your suite?” he asks and Taylor nods. Her tears have finally dried and she fixes the heavy bedsheets over her body. It’s really gotten cold in this room. At least here, the air conditioning works just fine. 

“Yup. It’s like.. eight I think. I’ll just go take a shower and watch some Netflix and that’s it.” she says, clearly not impressed by her plan of the evening now that she won’t play a show in front of thousands of people. 

“Order some food, baby. And dessert. Promise me.”

Taylor smiles slowly, then nods. He’s right. She needs some dessert tonight. 

“Thanks for being there for me.”

“Don’t ever thank me for this again. Of course I’m here for you.”

Taylor smiles, then gets closer to the screen and kisses her phone camera. He laughs quietly.

“Go take a shower now and call me when your dinner has arrived. We can eat together. My lunch should be here in a bit.” 

Taylor nods, sits upright for the first time tonight. That’s actually a better idea than for her to be crying alone watching some Netflix show.

“Sounds great.” She says, slowly gets up and makes her way to the bathroom. 

“I’ll call you in a bit. Okay?” 

“Okay.”

“I love you, baby.”

“Love you.”

A few moments later, Taylor steps out of the shower, dries her body with the soft white cotton towels at the end of the generous bathroom and quickly reaches for the robe on the hanger next to the bathroom door. She slowly covers her still damp body in the white fabric, then leaves the warm bathroom to step back to the main room of her suite. The cold air of the air conditioned room hits her gently. She weirdly can’t find the body lotion she brought. It must still be flying around in her suitcase. 

Taylor slowly crouches down, starts rummaging through her big suitcase. Why is she always so messy when it comes to packing? 

Suddenly, she gets startled by a knock on the door. One knock. Then another. For a second, she stands up. Just ensuring to wrap the fabric of the robe even tighter around her body than before. She slowly makes her way to the door of the suite, still barefoot. Her hair still in a bun from the body shower she just took. 

“Hello?” she asks carefully, can already hear Dustin from her team speaking. 

“Taylor? We have a delivery for you. Do you mind opening up?”

Once more, Taylor clutches onto the robe covering her naked body, making sure she's still fully covered. She carefully opens the door, finds two security men still standing right in front of the door. But to her surprise, Dustin is carrying something very big and very heavy in his arms. She’s confused. White paper covering the package.

“Do you mind if I…?”

Taylor realizes quickly that he needs to place the heavy delivery somewhere. She steps aside, lets him enter the suite. Dustin carefully places the package on the little side table next to the couch of the suite. 

“What’s.. what’s this?” 

“A delivery from the hotel. I was asked by Tree to bring it to you directly.” 

Taylor looks confused, just covers her mouth as Dustin proceeds to peel off the paper from the top of it. Behind the packaging, a massive bouquet of red roses becomes visible. It’s a ball of flowers. She’s never seen so many put so beautifully together. 

“Oh my god? What…”

“This is the card for you.” he says, smiles warmly at her and proceeds to leave the suite again. Taylor just remains standing there. The door falling into the lock, her robe still a little bit too big on her, both eyes on the beautiful roses in the middle of her living room. She quickly opens the envelops that Dustin just passed to her. For a moment she reads these printed words. Then she looks back at the flowers and smiles. The biggest smile she's smiled in days.

Because I’m always with you, even when you can’t see me. I’m so proud of you. 

I love you.

Travis

The Anthology - Chapter 7: But Daddy I Love Him

Artwork by @faith2nyc Read on AO3

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Steve looks up to see Maria’s typically collected expression overcome with incredulity, and from his seat in front of her desk, he can only shift in place. “I don't know how much clearer I can be, Maria,” he says, watching as his agent remains unfazed by his clipped tone. “She was drunk and in no condition to go home alone. It was the right thing to do. Anyone-”

"Anyone would have done it," Maria finishes for him. "That's what you were going to say, right?" He lifts his chin up, as if daring her to say what they both know she truly wants to. She scoffs. "Be that as it may, not just anyone would have stayed the night. And even worse, been stupid enough to get caught!" 

“I didn’t realize whose couch I crashed on was anyone’s business but my own,” he volleys back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It is when it’s Natasha Romanoff’s couch,” Maria says, only to sigh at the dagger of a glare he sends her way. “For God’s sake, Steve, these pictures of you two are already tanking your follower count-”

“I don’t fucking care about my follower count!”

“Then what about future projects? Do you care about that?” Maria asks, undeterred. “Because just yesterday, I had a meeting booked with the studio to look into extending your three-picture deal. Today, they suddenly need to take a raincheck?” Maria shakes her head as she reaches for the tablet on her desk before handing it to him. “That’s not a coincidence, Steve. Not in light of all this... protest.”

“What are you talking about?” he says, his brows furrowing in confusion. Maria’s only response is to extend the tablet further out to him, and reluctantly, he takes the device to see the Twitter trending page pulled up on the screen, his name in bold font at the very top. An exasperated sigh falls from his lips as he taps on it. Call him old fashioned, but he had never come to understand the allure of an online presence. He had resisted building one for as long as he could, acquiescing only when the subject had become a sticking point in the new age of contract negotiations. Even then, he was only too happy to hand over the reins to Maria and her team. And as he skims through these responses now, he couldn’t be more thankful that he did.

“Jesus,” he says as he haphazardly drops the tablet back onto Maria’s desk, shaking his head as though the action will erase what he’s just seen. For those comments he’s just read – if they could still even be called that – are nothing short of vitriolic. How people could have the courage to release such vile things online, opining about matters they not only haven’t a scintilla of a clue about, but also absolutely no business casting judgment on, he couldn’t comprehend. “Where was all this outrage when I put my hands on that pap?”

Maria’s expression softens a touch at that, her silence a resounding confirmation of what he already knows. “Steve, I know you… care for her,” Maria carefully begins a beat later. “But, rightly or wrongly, they’ve already decided who and what she is. Don’t let her drag you down with her.”

A cold, humorless chuckle falls from his lips. “How is it that the person who’s supposedly dragging me down is the only one that actually lets me breathe around here?” Now more than ever, he could see it. The way people conflated him with the paragon of virtue that was Captain America, a mere character he plays. He gestures towards the tablet. “Am I even an actual person to these people, Maria?” He shakes his head. “And I’m just supposed to believe that all of this is just, what? Because they care about me?”

His hands curl into fists at the very thought, and before him, Maria can only press her lips into a line. For the reality is bleak. These strangers pontificating about their disappointment in his choices are the same ones who claim, adamantly, to have his best interests at heart. It didn’t matter that what they ask of him, what they feel ever so entitled to implore him to do, is the one thing that will break him. They’ve already set the rules, the price of his defiance already outlined – live up to the perfect, impossible image that they’ve built of him in their minds or be at their perceived mercy.

To hell with that.

The response comes to him instantaneously. For it's all clear to him now. In the end, it doesn’t matter. None of it does. Nothing about what the sanctimonious, faceless keyboard warriors say online changes the fact that he’s never been happier than when he’s with Natasha. It doesn’t diminish the joy he feels when he hears her laugh or when her verdant eyes are the first thing he sees when he opens his. Or the spark that rushes through his veins, making him feel more alive than he’s ever felt, when he has her hand in his. And, above all else, it won't make him forget that it wasn't until he had her in his arms, the both of them sprawled out in comfortable silence on her couch this morning, that he finally felt whole for the first time in weeks.

There isn't anything in the world that could hold a candle to any of that. He isn’t going to let there be – no matter what it costs him.

He rises from his seat, watching as a knowing yet still apprehensive look crosses Maria’s face. She sighs. “Steve.”

“It’s my life, Maria,” he says, squaring his shoulders. “My choices are just that, mine. And I choose her.” 

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 (Coming Soon)

simply losing my mind at the thought of gillian walking into david’s trailer to show him a picture of this dog pictured “big nose warm heart” saying hey so this is you 🙃🥲