#And it's been fifteen years after all‚ not forty five. They didn't have to change her alone

[impishtubist]

miss imp!! can u knock up sirius for older prongsfoot next pls 🥺🥺🥺 obsessed with omegaverse and there’s not nearly enough j/s out there

Me: Oh sure this will be just a quick drabble!

2500 words later............. 😬

So I really didn't mean for this to be a full-fledged fic and it absolutely could have been three times as long, but I had to cut myself off. Rated M for some spice!

----

Sirius finally lifted his head from Headmistress McGonagall’s bin, cast a wandless mouth-cleaning charm on himself, and sat back in his chair with a groan.

“Say nothing,” he murmured. 

“I’m afraid I must say something, Professor Black.” She conjured up a glass of water for him. “Drink that.” 

Twenty-eight years since he’d last been her student, and still Sirius hopped to immediately. He drained the glass.

“Does Professor Potter know?”

“Yes.”

“What about Harry?”

That had been a fun conversation. Their moody fifteen-year-old had stomped around the house for two days before James, fed up with his attitude, had sent him off to the Burrow. He’d come back in a marginally better mood and his apology had almost been genuine. He was slowly coming around to the idea, but still wasn’t thrilled about the baby. 

“Yeah.” 

McGonagall nodded. “We’ll set up accommodations for you as the pregnancy progresses, and--”

“Don’t you dare.” Sirius stood. “I don’t need accommodations, I am fine.” 

“Professor Black, we need to talk about how we will handle it when you are out on leave--”

“No, we don’t!” Sirius called, banging his way out of her office. 

***

Sirius had intended to hide the pregnancy for as long as his teaching robes would allow, but his son couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, and it was all over the school by the second day of classes. 

“When are you due?” a third-year Hufflepuff asked during their first class. 

“April,” Sirius said.

“Before NEWTs, then,” a seventh-year Ravenclaw commented during one of their classes. “Will you be back by exam time?”

“Don’t be stupid, of course he won’t!” 

“I promise that you will be prepared for your NEWTs,” Sirius said, before any further bickering could break out.

“Who’s the other father? Is it Professor Potter?” a wide-eyed first-year Slytherin asked.

“Is the other father my husband of twenty-five years?” Sirius asked, bemused. “Yes, of course.”

“Oh, good.” 

***

Sirius lay back on the bed, arms at his sides, hands curled into the thin hospital sheet beneath him. He tensed as Madam Pomfrey scanned him with her wand, and James lay a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Every bloody week,” he muttered. “Nothing’s changed, has it? I’m the same every week, and yet you insist on poking and prodding me--”

“Geriatric pregnancies do carry more risk, Professor Black,” Madam Pomfrey said calmly. “We have to monitor you closely.”

“Uh-oh,” James muttered.

“Geriatric?” Sirius sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Who are you calling geriatric?”

“Well, you are forty-five, Professor,” Madam Pomfrey said, either not noticing or ignoring the note of danger in Sirius’s voice. “Not even middle aged yet as far as wizards go, but biologically, you are at the later end of your child rearing years. We want to keep a close eye on you to make sure you and the baby stay safe and healthy.” 

She consulted Sirius’s file, and then said, “Oh! Your birthday was last week. Forty-six, then.” 

Grumbling under his breath, Sirius hopped off the bed and swept out of the hospital wing. James gave Madam Pomfrey a helpless look.

“Hormones,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t suppose I could conduct some of these scans myself in our quarters each week and send you the results? It might make him…calmer.” 

***

Sirius crept down to the kitchens after midnight one night, and was startled to find his son already down there. 

Harry gave him a sheepish look. “Hi, Papa.”

“Harry,” Sirius sighed. “Really?”

“I was hungry! And I used the cloak, don’t worry. No one saw me.” 

Sirius knew he should lecture his kid about being out of bed after curfew and sneaking into the kitchens, where students definitely weren’t allowed…but honestly, all he could think about right now were pickles and peanut butter. Preferably pickles dipped in peanut butter. 

“You get a pass this time,” he said finally, and Harry beamed. “But only because your baby sibling is giving me the worst cravings and I don’t care about anything else right now. Misty!” 

***

James was grading papers in his office when Sirius came barreling into the room. The door slammed shut behind him, and then Sirius was climbing into his lap. 

“Sirius, w--what are you doing?”

“Need your knot.” Sirius rocked his hips, and James groaned. “Need your knot, Jamie, please.” 

“Okay, sweetheart, okay,” James said, fumbling to get their robes out of the way while Sirius writhed on his lap. He finally grabbed his wand and simply Vanished all their clothes, then shot a locking charm at the office door. Sirius sank down on him in one fluid motion, letting out a small sigh. “Better?”

“Getting there,” Sirius grunted as he lifted himself up, then slammed back down on James’s cock. “But if you don’t fuck me properly in the next thirty seconds--” 

James grabbed his hips and swiftly took control, setting a punishing pace that drove the most delicious sounds out of Sirius. 

“How about now?” he panted in Sirius’s ear later, his swollen knot buried deep inside his husband. Sirius had collapsed against him, boneless and sated.

“Mm, perfect,” he murmured, sounding drunk. “Wish I could have your knot in me all day, Jamie.”

“We could make that happen,” James said, thinking of the knotting toys buried at the bottom of the trunk in their room. “On weekends, when no one else is going to be around. We can stay in our rooms all day and I’ll knot you as often as I can, and whenever I can’t, we’ll put a knotting plug inside you. How does that sound, love?”

Sirius shivered, and James kissed his sweaty forehead. “Sounds heavenly, Jem. Love being so full…” 

“I know you do, sweetheart.” James stroked a hand down Sirius’s spine. “I know.” 

***

Sirius was showing by the holidays, despite his billowing teacher’s robes, and he was more miserable than ever. His feet and ankles were swollen, he was still getting morning sickness, and he hated feeling like a goddamn whale. His cravings were ridiculous, and he couldn’t even sleep on his back anymore.

“Was it this bad with Harry?” he mumbled one night while James rubbed his feet. 

“No, love,” James said. “You hated it, sure, but that was fifteen years ago and your body handled it better.” 

Sirius, who was eating grapes drenched in hot sauce, chucked one at James’s head. James caught it, ate it, and then took the bowl out of Sirius’s hands so he could lean over and kiss him. 

“Sirius,” he said gently, “it’s okay to acknowledge that we’re older, and this is harder because of it. We didn’t plan on having another kid in our mid-forties! It’s different now, but it’s going to be okay.” 

“I’m going to be fifty-seven when they start Hogwarts,” Sirius mumbled. “That’s ancient.”

“It isn’t,” James said. “Ancient is Nicolas Flamel. You’re as handsome now as the day we married.”

Sirius snorted. “Sure. I was a beached whale on our wedding day.”

“You were beautiful on our wedding day, but you’re even more gorgeous to me right now, like this.” James kissed him again, deeper this time, leaving him aching and breathless. “How about I show you?”

***

In March, there was a knock on Sirius’s office door, and he glowered at the man who stepped inside. 

“So you’re my replacement.”

Remus held up his hands. “I’m not replacing you, I’m just here to assist with your classes.” 

“I don’t need an assistant.” 

“Sirius, you can’t control your magic.”

“I’m not five.”

“No, you’re pregnant,” Remus said patiently. “Your magic did this with Harry, too. You sent two students to the hospital wing yesterday! You need help with your lessons, and Headmistress McGonagall--” 

“I don’t need your help.”

The teacup on his desk shattered, spilling cold tea all over the essays he hadn’t graded yet. Remus gave him an unimpressed look. 

“Yes, because you’re doing so well on your own.” 

“Get out, Remus!” 

“No,” Remus said. “Sirius, I know you hate being pregnant. You hated it with Harry, and it must be so much harder now, given--”

“If you say given my age, they’re never going to find your body, Lupin.” 

“Given that Harry was planned and this one wasn’t,” Remus said quickly.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him but lowered his wand. 

“I’m still leading all my classes,” he said.

“Of course,” Remus said. “I’m just here to demonstrate the actual spells, and I’ll be covering for you when you go on leave--”

The desk next to him caught fire, and he jumped out of the way. 

“Er, right,” Remus said. “My mistake, you’re not going on leave at all. You’ll return to teaching immediately after giving birth, and carry the little one around in a sling while you do so. Happy?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him.

“Better,” he said finally. He grabbed a thick binder off his desk and shoved it at Remus. “My lesson plans and class timetables for the month. Study them.” 

“Yes, Professor.” 

***

Sirius found Harry in his office one Saturday afternoon, curled up in a chair by his desk and looking miserable. 

“Harry, what’s wrong?”

“I presented,” Harry blurted, and Sirius stared at him.

“What? When?” 

“Last August,” Harry said miserably, and Sirius’s jaw dropped. How could Harry have been able to hide this from him? From all of them?

“Harry--”

“I’m an alpha!” Harry burst out, looking on the verge of tears. “And…and so is Cedric, so it’s never gonna work.” 

“Oh, Hazza.” Sirius opened his arms. “Come here.” 

Harry dove into his arms, and Sirius held him close.

“You know that’s not true. Plenty of alphas fall in love and make it work.”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“What, did you think that Moony and Kingsley share a flat because they don’t have enough money to live on their own? Kingsley is the Minister.”

“...Oh.” Harry lifted his head from Sirius’s shoulder. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Because you’re as oblivious as your dad,” Sirius said fondly. “How did you hide this from us? Wait, does Dad know?”

“No,” Harry said, fidgeting. “I, uh. Got some suppressants from some seventh years.” 

“Well, that is stopping immediately,” Sirius said firmly. “Merlin knows what’s in those suppressants or where they came from, and it’s not healthy to suppress your biology continuously like that.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah, alright.” 

“It’s going to be okay, Hazza.” Sirius kissed the top of his head. “Cedric isn’t going anywhere, I promise.” 

***

James lay with his head resting on the swell of Sirius’s stomach while their little one kicked under his cheek. Sirius ran his fingers through James’s hair.

“They’re going to be a Beater,” he said confidently. Sirius snorted.

“They might not like Quidditch at all, love.”

James lifted his head and gave Sirius an affronted look. “Hold your tongue!” 

He settled back down again. The baby was restless tonight--they always were after dinner--and James started to sing quietly. Soon, the baby calmed down, and stopped using Sirius’s insides as a punching bag. Sirius huffed.

“That never worked for Harry.”

“I know,” James said fondly. “He kicked ‘round the clock. Thought he was going to kick his way out of you.” 

“Yeah,” Sirius whispered, and then suddenly James’s hands were on his cheeks, brushing away the tears. 

“Hey,” James whispered, “what’s wrong?”

“I miss it,” Sirius croaked. He rubbed a hand over his belly. “I hated it, yeah, but I miss it, too. I miss having him right here, where I could protect him. I miss him kicking me, I miss you telling my stomach ridiculous stories, I miss having him close. I miss feeling him inside me, and carrying him everywhere. And soon the baby will be here, and I’m going to miss them, too.” 

“Shh.” James crawled up the bed and wrapped Sirius in his arms, kissing the bridge of his nose. “Our kids aren’t going anywhere, okay? Sure, they’re going to grow up and have their own homes and families but they will always, always be in our lives. And we’re going to protect them, if they’re five or fifty.”

“I know,” Sirius said softly, his hands cradling his belly. “But I’m never going to have this again, and I’m--I’m sad about it.” 

James held him close, Sirius’s stomach pressed between them. “It’s okay to feel sad about it, love.”

***

Remus was demonstrating the shattering curse for the Ravenclaw sixth years while Sirius leaned against his desk, trying to find a comfortable position that took some of the pressure off his aching back and feet. 

“Expulso!” Remus cried, and the chair he had been using as a target exploded. 

Sirius’s water broke. 

***

Everything that happened after that was a blur. Remus dismissed the class and then sent a Patronus to James, who helped Remus get Sirius to the hospital wing. White-hot, relentless pain consumed him for hours, despite the potions Madam Pomfrey gave him. He paced the hospital wing with James hovering at his side, did his breathing exercises, perched on an inflatable ball, was finally guided to a bed where he pushed and pushed and pushed, and then--

And then there she was. Tiny, pink, crying, and perfect. 

Sirius held her on his bare chest while James cut the cord and Madam Pomfrey cleaned them both up. At some point, she was taken away to be measured, weighed, and swaddled, and eventually she was tucked into a bassinet next to his bed. 

He fell asleep.

When he woke up, James was feeding the baby. He cradled her close, his eyes fixed on her tiny face while she drank a bottle. Pure adoration emanated from him. He finished feeding her, burped her, and then settled her back in his arms. 

“Hi, princess,” he whispered. “We’ve got to get you a proper name, but your papa passed out before we could decide on one, so you’re just Princess for now. You were a bit of a surprise, you know, but we love you so much. We’re so excited to be your dads. And you’ve got a big brother, Harry, who will be by to meet you soon. And your godfathers are a werewolf and the Minister of Magic, so I think you’ll be okay.” 

He kissed her gently on the forehead, and then her rosy cheeks, and then her tiny nose. Once she fell asleep, he set her carefully in the bassinet. 

“Adhara,” Sirius whispered, and James jumped. 

“I didn’t realize you were awake.” James brushed the hair off his forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got trampled by a Thestral. Adhara.” 

“That’s a pretty name.” James nodded. “I like it. Adhara Potter-Black has a nice ring to it.” 

“Harry?”

“In his common room, probably. You went into labor sixteen hours ago, but I wanted to wait to tell him until you were ready.” 

“In the morning.” Sirius worked an arm out from under the pile of blankets and held it out to James. “Come here.” 

James crawled carefully into the bed and curled around Sirius.

“I love you,” he whispered, nuzzling Sirius’s cheek, the comforting alpha scent of him easing some of Sirius’s pain. 

“Love you, too, Jamie.” Sirius sank into the warmth of his husband’s arms, and gazed at his baby girl until he fell asleep.

[lacrise666]

He's better then all of them.

He's known this since he was four years old.

Four years old and twitching his fingers, hoping that Elizabeth Swaths would drop her bowl of soup into her lap.

Four years old and watching how his twitching fingers had worked.

Five years old and running from the rocks that the other boys threw, some of the girls as well.

(Later, he would magically push all of those children into the small cave near the beach and watch them come out over an hour later, faces stained with tears and trousers stained with piss.)

Seven years old and being held down by dirty hands, forced to watch as Billy Stubbs crammed Tom's school books down the loo.

(Later, he would use his magic to hold Billy's head in that same loo until his heart beat was nearly lamented and his skin was white.)

Nine years old and finding himself once more on the floor, stilted in horror as two of the older boys dangled their spit over his face, eventually having to watching as it fell and graced the crease of his eye and his cheekbone, then soon slipping into his hair.

(Later, he would tell his magic to shove both boys down the stairs. He would leisurely walk down those same steps and think of an excuse for this freak accident. The accident also including their tongues mysteriously being carved out.)

It was all his revenge. Revenge for every rock thrown, every book drowned, and every filthy, disease ridden bit of saliva that had ever marred his face before.

He was better.

He had magic. He had brains. He had charm.

He had ambitions unmatched by any other.

He would do great things, regardless of virtue, of morals.

He had power.

And when he was eleven, being called a mudblood didn't change that. It never did, and finding out that he was actually a halfblood didn't change it either.

None of the others, regardless of wizard or muggle, understood the world in the way that he did and he didn't need them to. He would guide them. (And whether it was under an iron fist or as a merciful leader, he would let them decide that for themselves.)

He knew his plans were stone when he was fourteen and he was, once more, twitching his fingers, his teeth finally unclenching after a day of stress and exams as he watched a no name fifth year crumble to the floor, every other Slytherin too afraid to actually try and stop him.

He was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself at age fifteen.

He had achieved immortality at sixteen, efficiently defeating his demons and taking the name Voldemort in stride.

He had been turned away from the DADA position at eighteen and later went on long travels throughout his twenties.

He raised Hell at forty-three, now birthing the first Wizarding War into the world.

He then, after years of being the strongest, the greatest, was more assured than ever that he would rule over England in the way that he knew was right. The way that he wanted to.

He was ruthless. He was a murderer. He was a fucking God.

Nothing and no one would stop him.

*

On July 31st, 1980, a boy with green eyes was born, his fingers twitching slightly.

[thenightling]

This is my review, thoughts, and theories from the latest episode of Interview with The vampire. Episode 4 of season 2. I think the showrunner mistakes unnecessary twists as being clever. So here are the twists I anticipate. 1. I suspect Santiago's maker was Nicolas. We keep going back to Santiago's story. By the way, it's trite and very CW that the story of what happened to Santiago's maker, from being "killed" for breaking one of their laws, to finally revealing the law he broke was making a vampire without permission... this is very CW when plot points like that are unnecessarily drawn out. It pulls me out of the story and reminds me that this is TV writing. And yet they had the audacity to pretend it's "Soapy" to reveal that Lestat was involved with the theatre coven? 2. It's pretty clear that the visions of Lestat are NOT hallucinations like the showrunner tried to make us believe in the first episode of season 2. He's obviously astral projecting to Louis. He' been telling Louis things that Louis did not know such as how long Lestat was an actor, and what he had sewn into his suit pocket. 3. Though I really would like the reveal that Armand messed with Louis's memories, I'm starting to wonder if this lazy showrunner and writing team are keeping the soft woobified version of Armand and the one who messed with Louis's memories was Marius to sabotage the interview and protect the vampire race. This would be a major deviation since Marius was amused by Lestat's rock career in the books.

4. It looks like they're going to change why Claudia was condemned, perhaps foreshadowing that her being condemned is because she makes Madeleine into a vampire.

While I'm on the thought did anyone else go "Ah, yes! This was written by a man who knows nothing about womanly anatomy and behavior!" when Madeleine commented with surprise and apparent suspicion about Claudia's breasts still being small two years after they met. That was... weird... She might as well have said "This is unnatural! We've known each other for two years and your titties aren still small to medium sized! Why aren't they Dolly Parton sized yet?!" Claudia is played by a nineteen-year-old. A dress maker would know some people have small breasts. Also they're not THAT small! Just because you say something doesn't make it true. Claudia didn't need to give a war time explanation for her size. I haven't grown since I was thirteen. I'm five foot one and forty-two-years-old. And I didn't get my first period until I was fifteen. So Claudia being apparently sixteen and small chested should NOT be gaining attention from the dress maker. Yet again the show had a ridiculous amount of smoking. Why the Hell was hallucination / astral Lestat smoking? Madeleine talkin about the boy Yahtzee. "He paid with food and cigarettes." I think if this show runner could make the rats smoke he would. By the way, I STRONGLY suspect that Lestat may be in Paris, perhaps being held prisoner. Hmm... Have we actually ever seen the rats in the body disposal thing? That would be stupid though. Anne Rice's vampires, in the novels, don't eat. I know they did here but it would still be stupid that he wouldn't cry out to Louis "Hello! I'm here!" Now I'm imagining some idiotic "He was so starved for blood that he ate the flesh from the corpses, looking for whatever drops might remain." Yeah, they would do that... It also looks like there will be a theatre uprising and Santiago's group will be who condemn Claudia. And Armand truly won't be able to stop it. (I'm guessing the show runner missed the parts in the books and the subtle clues in the movie that Armand was actually behind it. He seems to miss a lot of what's important in the books, like he only read a poorly written wiki entry. Unless all of this is false memories? How would Louis know about the calls Santiago made while he and Claudia were not around? Who told that part?

Finally, why are the theatre vampires upset at Louis for living like a human? I thought that was the entire point of the vampires LEAVING Armand's Satanic coven under the cemetery? They used lines about Lestat for Louis here. Why? Lestat already taught Armand's followers that they can live like humans two centuries earlier. Why recycle the plot?

And why are they still following the Satanic coven rules? Sabbats? The Theatre is supposed to be secular.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Emergency contact au, omg I'm screaming!!! This is so great ngl.

Who were shouta's three picks? Was izuku one of them?

What's his reaction when he gets called as izuku's eic tho 👀👀

The EIC is a longstanding pre-cautionary measure in heroics and Shouta is, above most everything else, a logical man.

He understands the history, understands the necessity of the entire thing, understands the logic behind having a safety net in place not only for any civillian bystanders but for pro-heroes themselves.

But understanding it doesn't make Shouta loathe it any less.

Especially since his first choice of "shoot me directly in the face" kept getting flagged as "inappropriate".

Shouta had only finally did it properly after Nedzu had threatened to add himself as Shouta's EIC.

Shouta still wakes up in a cold sweat sometimes at the way Nedzu had smiled and said "Oh I'm sure there's a number of non-sexual, and only mildly psychologically scaring methods I could use to snap you out of whatever quirk induced delirium you might find yourself in."

Shouta had turned his forms in roughly fifteen minutes later.

He'd opted to be deeply sedated and then treated by a trained professional if there was no other choice.

Mainly because he already didn't get much in the way of sleep and the thought of the nightmares that would surely haunt him if he ever had to get up close and personal with any of the goon squad that called itself his social circle's genitalia just didn't seem worth it.

Nemuri and Hizashi both had pouted a bit about not being his first choice but Tensei had taken it into stride and then outright refused to admit who his first choice was.

(A particularly unhinged weekend that the four of them had spent drinking together that Shouta only knows the details of because Nemuri had filmed most of it, had revealed that Tensei's first choice was Gang Orca because quote "he'd treat me right".)

Nemuri tended to change her list depending on her current whims, although at least one of them was always on it for safety reasons.

Hizashi, the idiot that he is, had made the mistake of listing Shouta as his first choice.

Something that Shouta had been sure to make him regret when he'd been hit in the early years of their careers by a paralysis quirk that only lifted, ridiculously enough, through prolonged deep kissing.

Shouta had gotten the call, been informed as to Hizashi's situation, and then made a quick detour before practically slinking into Hizashi's hospital room some fifteen minutes later.

And then he'd stared Hizashi directly in the face as he ate an entire clove of garlic and two slices of raw onion.

Once Hizashi has finished using up an entire tube of toothpaste he'd changed his form, shuffling Shouta to last place in case there was literally no one else available.

Outside of those three, there's no one else Shouta can think of who would want him of all people as one of their registered EIC.

Which is why he's so surprised to find himself starring down the barrel of a phone call from Musutafu General Hospital's Heroes Wing.

"There's some mistake," Shouta finds himself saying.

"This is, Aizawa Shouta, Pro Hero Eraserhead, 003506?" The nurse asks, repeating the confirmation Shouta himself had given at the beginning of the call.

"Yes."

"Then there's no mistake," she tells him. "You're being called in as an EIC, please come to the hospital as soon as possible or take this opportunity to decline to service so we can contact the next hero on the list."

"I'll be there in forty-five minutes," Shouta says before he hangs up.

He finds himself just staring at his desktop, brows furrowed, for a long minute.

"Uh? Sho?" Hizashi pokes him in the shoulder. "You okay there, buddy?"

"Get Nedzu," Shouta says instead as he pushes himself up from his seat. "I'm going to Musutafu General and I'm pretty sure someone's about to try and kill me."

[buckybarnesdiaries]

longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak, furnace, nine, benign, homecoming, one, freight car

© mine.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Bucky is kidnapped by Hydra to reactivate the Winter Soldier.

word count: 2.924 words. it worth it, i promise!!!

warnings/tags: none. angst as hell mostly. but it has a happy ending.

author notes: i don't speak russian, but i haven't used google translate either, so no worries. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

join the tag list NEW!!! here.

No. It couldn't be possible. It had to be part of a terrible nightmare. Bucky couldn't have been kidnapped by Hydra again.

You didn't know what to expect in the ship flying to the secret location of the organization. For Stark, it didn't take more than a couple of minutes to track the arm down, since Shuri put a small monitor on it when the soldier stayed in Wakanda. She never told it, wanting to use it in some kind of circumstance like the one you all were going through now. And you couldn't be more grateful, but it didn't help to make you feel better.

You were sitting close to the back hatch. Back rested against the metallic wall and legs curled to your chest. Nothing inside your head more than the hallucination of a pair of blue eyes staring at you. Blaming yourself was something you couldn't avoid. You should have been with him, by his side, protecting him as many times you promised him. But in fact, you just failed him. You failed his trust, his love. You let them take him. Only God knew which torture Hydra was putting him under, while you were there, lamenting.

You didn't even notice Steve's presence squatting next to you until he placed a hand on your shoulder. Then, you raised your face towards him. He was suffering too. In the end, Bucky was his long-life friend, his big brother. He lost him once and felt like he was going to lose him twice. Although this time was different. You were carrying the dispositive that could put to sleep back the winter soldier, but, at what cost?

“Buck got you now. Everything is gonn—”. He spoke in plural, referring to your last night's talk.

“How could you be so calm, Steve? How do you do it?” You whispered through your trembling lips, about to break in crying.

“Because he needs us focused, not distracted”.

He was wise. Captain America was wiser than anyone in that ship. He curled the left corner of his lips up, trying to make you feel good, trying to transmit you the encouragement you needed to not give up. And he did, more or less. You had to fight harder than ever. For Bucky, and only for Bucky. That's why you didn't hesitate on jumping out from the ship when it landed on the cold hard ground, as the freezing weather hit you on the face.

Following the plan, you ran quietly to the back door hidden under a huge layer of snow. Shaking part of it with the palm of your hand, you placed the device with technology from Wakanda on the locker. Not later than fifteen seconds, it deciphered the code to open the hatch. Once in position, the Avengers followed you downstairs. The passage was empty and silent. The only sound that broke it was a couple of rats running away from your presence. You all had studied the plans of the building, mostly underground, remembering exactly where you had to go.

The coast was clear, that was the reason why you all were so confused. You were expecting to find more than a dozen of agents, but when T'Challa enunciated through your earwigs that he only located two heat spots, you couldn't believe it. How only one man kidnapped the most fearless assassin up to now? Tortuous and bitter screams dragged you back to reality, causing your brain to react to make your legs run faster than ever in your whole damn life. You knew by heart that voice beneath all the pain.

Your skin bristled when your gaze landed on that chair of horrors, connected to an enormous power source. Bucky was sitting there against his want.

“... добросердечный… возвращение на родину… один…”

“STOP IT”. Steve yelled.

Huge mistake. You were aware of it when —yes— that man stopped reciting the Russian words to re-activate the Winter Soldier, but only enough time to push a red button near to him and close the heavy door in front of you. Everything happened in the blink of an eye. At the moment you glimpsed Steve’s shield sliding above the floor, straight to the inside of the room where Bucky was being tortured, you followed the same way. Never in your life, you were this fast. Like a lightning bolt, you snaked yourself under the small distance between the door and the ground before being closed. Now, it was you, that man and the soldier.

“You’re late…” He mocked with an awful American accent, under James crying out loud in pain. “грузовой ваг—”.

Your left hand moved quickly to unholster your gun and shoot him. One… Two… Three… Four bullets right to his head. The man fell dead before he couldn’t complete the command. You didn’t lose time, running to the controls to try to turn that machine off. But it was impossible. Even if you knew Tony could do it, there wasn’t signal inside those large and wide walls made of steel reinforced. You were in one of those abandoned soviet bunkers, that could save you from Armageddon. You were inhaling and exhaling so fast that your lungs never got really full, trying to focus, trying to shut every single noise around up. Trying to think of a plan b. But it was your heart who pushed you to act and not your brain. Grabbing Steve’s shield, you aimed for the energy source before tossing it like a damn frisbee.

That thing blew up, turning off any kind of light and dispositive around, as the sparks and the cables decorated your surroundings. Just like the fire that started to burn down a pile of boxes with different documents of Hydra. But that wasn't why you were impatient. Catching the shield when it came back to you, your legs moved immediately to Bucky, still stirring on his seat for a few seconds else. Then, he simply stopped shaking. Her eyes were wide opened. Reddened, in tears. His chest rose and fell violently. His heart was racing. And you could see the trauma taking control over his body in holy silence.

You didn't doubt removing the protection from his mouth along the restraints keeping him on the chair. Your fingers trembled like never before, not having any more time to lose. Probably, the Avengers would be trying to open the door when the emergency red lights illuminated the bunker, producing a loud alarm sound to indicate that something was going wrong inside the facilities.

“C'mon, Buck… C'mon, we have to leave”. You told him, trying to help him to stand up.

But as soon as your hand was about to land on his arm of vibranium, the five cold digits got closed around your throat. Soon, the lack of air for you was more than evident. He got up on his own, not needing you to do it. The ocean blue in his eyes turned into a dark storm. There wasn't any gesture on his face, more than his jaw clenching, pressing his teeth together. That wasn't Bucky —your Bucky—, but the unstable trained assassin Hydra turned him in. You could barely gulp saliva, gripping his metallic wrist with both of your hands to try to stop him from murdering you.

He couldn't. He couldn't kill you. His strength was suffocating you with no mercy, though.

For a moment, you felt too weak to fight, seeing everything around you getting blurred and darker. Blacking out. But there was something inside you, a sweet tone of voice calling your name. A male voice. Your eyelids rolled down bit by bit, wanting to concentrate on that honeyed sound being closer and closer.

“любить”.

The sore whisper left your lips. Love. The first time Bucky told you about love came to your mind. He told you about his family. George, Winnifred, Rebecca. He told you how much he desired to have a family of his own. To be loved.

“новый”.

Your almost dead fingers traced the form of his new arm made in Wakanda when you felt him lifting you from the floor, being suspended on air.

“сороковых годов”.

Trying to keep a firm tone of voice as much as the pressure let you, the Russian words were spat to the confused soldier, who wasn't understanding what you were doing. The forties changed his life. He was sent to war and, lately, captured by HYDRA. It was something he'd never forget, part of his DNA.

“заката”.

You didn't know what the hell your subconscious was doing either till that precise instant. You were reprogramming him. You were using his own memories to reset his wiped brain from them. Dusk. The first night he spent in Wakanda, Bucky was terrified. But you stayed with him. You comforted him by saying that everything was going to be okay, that his life would be different. That he was safe. That he was at home.

“лето”.

His last night of summer in that kingdom, Bucky took you to his favorite place between the woods, wanting to show you the fireflies fluttering in the middle of the gloom. He used to walk there whenever he woke up from a nightmare. Those small insects used to make him feel better for some reason he didn't comprehend. Until he saw their light reflecting on your amazed orbs. Bucky knew then he was in love with you. Besides his long-life friend, the only person who never judged him, who never ran away from him. The same person that now was dying under his fingers.

“шесть”

Six years took him to be Bucky, after his last war, after the last effort, after the last jump. He was a new man. You made him a new man. A good one. You guided him through the right way. You helped him to get used to the twenty-one century. You accompanied him to therapy and stayed in the waiting room every single session until he finished.

“заткнуться”.

The soldier ordered you to shut up, earning quite the opposite when you knew it was sorting some kind of effect on him, as soon as you felt some relief by the grip loosening around your throat and your tiptoes touching the ground. Little by little, you opened your eyes again, gluing them on the blue ones fixed on you.

“боец”.

He wasn't a super soldier, he was a fighter. He spent the last six years of his life fighting for it, fighting for ruling his existence, fighting for being pardoned for crimes he didn't want to commit, fighting for your love. Bucky furrowed swallowing, allowing you to place your feet on the floor.

“Бруклин”.

And when he demonstrated to the world that he was no longer the Winter Soldier, but James Bucky Barnes, he moved to his birthplace. Brooklyn. You and he rented an apartment together when you both learned that you couldn't live apart. That you were made for each other.

“Отец…”

A tear ran down your cheek, slowly moving your left hand to his free one. A shiver toured his backbone when he felt your warm touch holding his hand and, even if his cold fingers were still around your throat, the soldier bowed his head to follow the connection between the two of you. His flesh hand landed on your stomach, pressing it under yours, trying to transmit to him the news about your pregnancy status. Bucky was going to be a father. You were going to build a family as he always wished.

“Свобода”.

As the sob escaped your soul, his hand made of vibranium released your neck. Freedom was what he got after all those years.

Bucky was free.

His hold was the only thing that kept you on your feet, pining to the cold hard ground, as well as you trying to fill your lungs with the heavy air around you because of the dense smoke coming from the flames burning down that damn place. You watched Bucky picking the shield close to you, probably believing it could be easier to kill you with it than with his own hands. Your arms automatically wrapped your abdomen, as if you could protect your unborn child from that horror, crying James' name to remember you.

“James… James…”

You weren't able to stop whining, feeling a heavy sorrow under your chest, covering your vitals organs. The noisy sound from the bunker was suddenly turned into a constant beep, beep, beep that caused you to frown yet keeping your eyes closed. You called him once and again until a warm hand laced his fingers with you. Peace invaded you eventually, after a fond squeeze around your skin followed by a pair of rough lips pressed on your forehead. You let yourself go, not finding any strength inside your heart to continue awake.

The next time you opened your eyes, you needed a moment to adjust your gaze to the sunlight. Purring feeling more comfortable than before, you rolled on your stomach, sinking your nose into the large pillow. Bucky's scent was like a punch of reality. Your eyes snapped open as your pulse increased, starting to panic. Sitting up, your orbs moved quickly all around the room you recognized instantly. It was your dorm in the Compound, the one you used to share with your boyfriend —and the father of your child. It was empty. No trace of James anywhere. You tossed away the oxygen mask and the sheets covering your stiff anatomy, getting up from the bed. Another huge mistake.

Everything spun around you, feeling strong dizziness hitting your head, having to sit down for a second. But as soon as you felt recovered, you stood up again walking straight to the main door to step out. The hallway was deserted, hearing some voices coming from the meeting room. You followed them slowly, finding balance with your palm against the walls. Sam was the first one noticing your presence, coming faster to help you.

“James… James…” You mumbled, not really sure about when you started to sob again, whilst your muscles got tense with every syllable.

“He's okay, he's okay, take it easy, girl”. He tried to calm you as Steve reached you to bring you to the closest chair.

“We don't know what you did… but even if that man introduced the commands again… you turned it off”. Natasha spoke this time.

“I re— I repro— reprogramed him”.

The confusion was more than evident between the Avengers present in the room. But no one of them had the need to ask how. The spy taught you Russian in your free time, you weren't a fluent speaker, but it was enough to have a chat. Even so, you weren't going to say the words you used. You weren't going to make Bucky go through another wipe. If they worked, you'd make sure that he'd hear them when the occasion required it.

“I wan— wanna see him… please”. You cried covering your face with both hands, desolated after the hell of the situation you had to live.

“He's resting”. Steve informed you, squatting close and placing a hand on your right thigh to gently caress it. “And you should do the same. For your baby”.

“There's no way you're gonna stop me from seeing him”. You replied, raising your head and looking at him through your eyelids. Silently pleading.

He snorted, convinced that you wouldn't change your mind. Nodding two times with his head, he stood up and offered you a hand to hold it and help you to walk. Steve guided you through upstairs, following your pace step by step —he could have carried you onto his arms, but he wasn't sure if he could hurt you accidentally. You were too weak, barely breathing properly because of all the smoke you swollen inside the bunker. Although you started to feel somewhat erratic and excited as you were coming to Bucky's old dorm.

Steve opened the door for you, letting you walk inside before closing it behind your back. Your boyfriend was peacefully sleeping under the sheets. There were some scars on his face, already healed but yet seeming painful. The only explanation you found to be there was that Bucky used the shield to open the door and take you out of the bunker. A theory that made more sense when you noticed that he hadn't his prosthesis and his shoulder was covered by a thin black microfiber.

You headed to the bed, tucking in to wrap his warm and heavy body between your arms. At the moment he felt you, he embraced you as better as he could, not opening his eyes but shedding a tear. His lips started to tremble as you pecked them, previous to hiding his face into your neck.

“I'm so sorry…” Bucky sobbed, causing your whole anatomy to shudder because of the sorrow in his voice.

“We're gonna be okay, my love… You, me, our baby… Our family”.

His crying increased after those two words, caressing his back slowly to comfort him somehow. You knew that this recovery would be hard and painful, being conscious of how close he had been to end with your life. He didn't want to do it, nobody could deny it. You were everything he had, everything he always wished for deep inside his soul and heart. And the acknowledgment of having a baby with you only provoked him to feel guiltier.

But as you said so, everything was going to be okay.

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[capriciouswrites]

on the fourth day of halloween my true boo gave to me...a kingdom hearts ficlet

(Technically this is a present for @borndeaddd but I was going to write more and then I didn't, but, well, enjoy babe. I don't know what I'm doing, per usual.)

It’s a stupid thing to say. It’s also a lie.

He knows it. Kairi knows it. He thinks even Roxas and Axel might know it.

But he’s said it like it wasn’t a lie — like it wasn’t a stupid thing to say — and now he can’t back down.

He’s staring at Kairi because he can’t look at Riku, which is maybe the first time tonight he hasn’t just been staring at Riku but —

Kairi’s eyes are saying ‘oh honey, no’, and he’s fairly sure she can see the panic in his eyes, but she’s not saying anything or calling her a liar and that’s because she’s the best.

And, to be fair to his stupid, stupid lie, they are going to marry each other if they don’t find anyone else before forty-two. (It had originally been twenty-five because at eleven years of age, twenty-five had seemed like the reaper must’ve been calling, but at fifteen they’d been going through a Douglas Adams phase and also realized just how close twenty-five was.) Though, to be fair with Aqua and their gender studies major and their constant lecturing, Sora isn’t going to be surprised if they end up changing the contract again — still written in crayon, just with increasingly better handwriting and spelling — to require them to live together in platonic life mate harmony, or something.

Unless they need to get married for taxes.

(At eighteen, taxes still terrify Sora — though not as much as admitting his crush to his crush after having played two and a quarter rounds of circle of death, which is really how he got here in the first place.)

And maybe if Riku wasn’t so cool, and older, and cool, and handsome — and wasn’t just himself, then Sora would’ve admitted to his crush when he was asked in the truth round — but he couldn’t and now he hasn’t.

Instead he’s said he has a crush on Kairi, and oh no what if Riku thinks he’s still in the closet?

He’s not, he’s really not, and his friends and his family know but he only went to one of the Spectrum meetings when he’d first got to campus and seen how biphobic they were to know he didn’t want to deal with that. He’d been so hopeful that the queer group had called itself ‘Spectrum’ because yes, it was a whole spectrum, but then he’d heard the president bemoaning all the sorority girls who were just ‘going through stupid bi phases’ and how he hoped they didn’t show up to many meetings and Sora had noped right out of there with Kairi.

Sora knows that Riku goes to the meetings, because the meeting rooms at the student union have glass walls, so he’s still got some hope that Riku might be Sora-sexual.

But what if Riku knows that Sora is lying about his crush on Kairi and assumes it’s because he’s still in the closet? But it’s not like he could’ve said he had a crush on Axel or Roxas — he’s not sure what they are but there is a zero percent chance claiming to have a crush on either of them would end in anything but something awful for him. And obviously the whole lie was to not admit the truth and no one else was playing circle of death with them and —

He’s an idiot. He could’ve named someone not playing circle of death with them!

‘Help me’, he tries to convey with his eyes to Kairi. She studiously avoids meeting his gaze.

[kerie-prince]

the intern

Peter Parker x Reader (college au)

requested: (anon) plz plz plz give me some college aged, super powerful ( think stark ceo powerful ) peter parker shit. idc what the rest of the story is about, i just need a brooding, smoldering, suit wearing, extremely expensive, college aged spiderman. plz and thank you!!!!

warnings: language

summary: When you start a new internship at Stark Industries, you're not only surprised to find Peter working as your boss, but that he's not the shy neighborhood boy you grew up with

a/n: this doesn't follow canon so for this imagine, hammer industries is just a rival company and the snap never happened lol also i don't know anything more than operating a phone so don't expect me to write sciencey, techy stuff lmao

(gif source)

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you were running across the road to jump into a cab that was available. Your phone hadn't been charging all night as you thought it had which caused you to wake up forty-five minutes before the start of the interview. You need this internship before you graduate from Empire State and get your degree in robotics.

On the way there, you nearly got car sick as the driver took sharp turns and nearly ran past intersections seconds before they became red. Once in front of Hammer Industries, your heels clicked loudly as you ran inside the tall building. You checked in with the front desk and took the elevator up to the 10th floor.

Just as you arrived, Justin Hammer was calling your name. “I'm right here!” you nearly tripped on your heels and your breaths were short.

“I've called your name three times, do you understand what that makes you look like, correct?” Justin stood unphased as you stood up straight and tried to steady your breath. “All these people are on time. Some of these folks have been here for hours, even.”

“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry–”

“Shame, I really liked your resume and your report on the expansion of nano-technology. Try again next year, maybe.” Justin started to call out the next participant and when she got up you stepped in front of her, “Please Mr. Hammer, I need this internship or I can't graduate.”

The people in the waiting room had their eyes on the two of you, tension so thick that it was almost hard to breathe. “Then maybe you should have come on time,” he pushed you aside to let the next person in to interview. You quickly ran back out and spoke to no one all the way home. Your eyes and cheeks were aching as you held in the tears during your Uber ride. The driver wanted to ask if you were okay, but if you were to break down in his car he’d probably be stuck having to listen to what happened and if he was honest with himself, he didn't actually care.

Once you got to your apartment, you made a straight line to the kitchen. “Hey, how’d the interview go?” MJ, your roommate, asked while still looking at her computer. You reached into the freezer for your emergency ice cream pint, snatched a spoon and walked into your room without saying anything. “That bad, I guess,” MJ said to herself.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

You sat with MJ and Ned in the cafeteria, but had not touched any of the food on your plate. Your head was laid on the steel table and you just continuously groaned. “I’m a failure,” you whined.

“No, what you are is fucking dumb,” MJ commented as she ate.

“Thanks, Michelle, that makes me feel so much better,” you looked up to glare at her before laying her head back down. Ned felt bad that his friend was in despair, “How come you didn't ask Peter for help?”

“Huh?” you lifted your head back up some of your hair falling onto your face.

“Yeah, Peter already works at Stark Industries, why didn't you just ask him to get you in? You could even skip the internship altogether and be in full time,” Ned suggested. You gave it some thought, but something about it didn't sound right.

“No, I don't want to bother Peter. I don’t want him to think that I’m only calling him for a job,” you sighed. Ned texted Peter anyways. Unexpectedly, Peter texted him back immediately.

“He says it’s fine,” Ned showed you his phone to read the text. ‘Yeah man, tell her to come in tomorrow and Ms. Potts will interview her’

You let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding and pulled out your phone.

‘Thank you so much for helping me out’

(…)

‘No problem, anything for a friend’

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The Stark Industries building was huge. It almost looked taller than the Empire State Building, and maybe it actually was. Your legs were shaking as you stared up at it. “Here goes nothing,” you assured yourself.

The lobby was bustling with people; workers walking around, a group of kids that seemed to be here on a field trip, and some teens taking pictures in front of one of Mr. Stark's Iron Man suits.

The trip up to the 17th floor was crowded with people as more and more entered in every passing floor. You had to squeeze yourself out and accidentally stepped on someone’s foot in the process.

Looking around, your jaw dropped. It was an open laboratory with groups of people putting together small robots, flying drones, and people laughing and talking. It was such a fun and cool looking environment, you wondered why you didn't just apply here in the first place.

Pepper Potts spotted you walking around and approached you with a tap on your shoulder. “Hi, I’m Pepper. You must be Y/N,” she reached her hand out to shake yours which you accepted. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Peter’s told me a lot about you. Come, follow me,” Pepper’s office had glass walls and a view of New York from behind her desk. You weren't particularly fond of heights, but even you would love to have an office view like that. Pepper gestured to the chair in front of her as she smoothed her dress to sit in hers. “So, I see here that you had an interview at Hammer’s. Can I ask why you chose them?” You didn't even know how they got that information. You hadn't seen or spoken to Peter in quite a while, so how Pepper knew that was beyond you. You sat there with your lips moving to say something but nothing was coming out.

Pepper seemed to have caught on what you were thinking and elaborated, “Before I do any interviewing, I do full background checks on everyone.” She had a gentle smile which made you feel better. You thought she would scold you or something considering the question did more than catch you off guard.

“My mother used to work there for a long time and I figured that I would follow,” you explained. Pepper nodded her head and wrote some notes down. She looked onto her computer and looked at everything there was about you. “Well, I see here that you have exceptional grades. 4.7 GPA since you started school and your paper on nano-technology has gotten much praise. I think even Tony read it.” No way. The Tony Stark read my paper? “So tell me, do you see yourself working here at Stark Industries?”

You looked outside and watched everyone in the open lab again. “Yes.”

“Then that’s all I need to hear. We’d love to have you here,” she reached over to shake your hand. You looked at her surprised and hesitantly shook hers. “Welcome to the team, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much!” You cupped her hand with both of yours and shook it a little too quickly, but she didn't seem to mind. You were ecstatic to start your path to your career, and at a dream place at that.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

Your alarm rang at the time you set it to, but there was no need for it. You couldn't sleep all night. Today is your first day of your internship and you were feeling so many things at once. Excited, nervous, happy, scared…

You tried to restrain yourself to a light breakfast, but MJ’s pancakes were to die for that you ate two whole stacks. You looked through your closet just about fifteen times; you had already picked an outfit the following night with the help of MJ, but when you put it back on, you hated it. It sucked for your roommate seeing as she had to sit through you changing from eight other outfits.

You tried to picture the lab again to see how other people dressed for a better idea to base it on your outfit choice. From what you remember, it was pretty casual, so that’s what you stuck to.

You were given your pass the day you were hired, so you had no issue walking inside. The elevator was just as packed as it was last time, but you were more composed so there were no toes being stepped on this time. You weren't exactly sure as to where you had to go, so you looked around to see if there were other interns to ask where to start.

“Y/N!” Peter’s voice surprised you from behind. Your shoulders jumped a bit, but relaxed at the view of his face. His face… you actually hadn't seen him for quite a while. Months, maybe. His jawline was more defined, and his once floppy hair was styled neatly. You tried to not look him up and down, but the temptation was definitely there. And the other thing, his voice was deeper than you last remembered. Is this really Peter Parker? “Hey, Peter.”

He gave you a hug that nearly made you lose breath. He was stronger than you remembered. A memory flashed back to when you were in junior high; you, Ned and Peter were hanging around the local park and you beat Peter on rounds on the monkey bars. He gave up after a couple bars, but you went back and forth a couple times. ‘Show off.’ But now, he had muscles that the shirt he was wearing hugged his biceps.

The hug was quick, and you had to pretend that he didn't just squeeze some life out of you. “Do you work on this floor?”

“Yeah, you’re actually assigned to work with my team. Come, I’ll show you around.” He started walking and you noticed how his posture changed. Damn, I know it hasn't been this long since I've seen him. Why does he look so different? He was wearing trousers. Trousers? Peter hates trousers. But his ass is looking great–

“Hey guys, this is Y/N. She’s going to be working with us as an intern. And I'll say this beforehand, no she's not going to be taking coffee or lunch orders,” Peter introduced you. There were various aged people in this group. Some were your age, and one person looked to have been in his thirties. Peter is in charge of this group? They all said ‘hi’ to you and went around introducing themselves.

Once that was finished, Peter pulled a chair for you on the table. “You’ll take notes for me while I give this presentation,” he whispered to you before walking in front of the table and started writing on the clear glass board.

He was talking quickly and didn't stumble over his words like he used to. Everyone was listening to him attentively and you jotted notes down as quickly as you could. Every now and then, you would steal glimpses of him and feel a sort of… well you felt something. Amazement? Inspiration? Adoration?

No doubt was Peter one of the smartest people you've ever met and here he was leading his own team and making potential products for Stark Industries at such a young age. Seeing him at work was so… it was indescribable to you but all you could think of was how different he is now. In a good way, of course.

Peter Parker has been your friend for years and to see him change from a bumbling, shy, adorable nerd into a confident, intelligent working man attracted you.

When you got home, you thought a lot about your first day. Being an intern at Stark Industries was really fun, so far. You weren't expected to do silly things like get coffee or lunch for everyone or pick up someone’s dry cleaning. You actually learned something and even had your opinions heard on some of the things that Peter suggested for his team’s upcoming product presentation.

If this is what it's like to be an intern, you couldn't imagine what it would be like working full time.

“How'd it go?” MJ stuck her head in your room. “It was fun. I'm working with Peter,” you explained your day to her.

“Cool,” was the last thing she said before she went to her own room for the night.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

In the past few months, your internship at Stark’s has been going swimmingly. Everyone's been so nice, and the work is so fascinating. You've gotten closer with Peter and along the way, he felt like he was more than a friend and boss to you.

Currently, everyone was getting ready for their final presentations for the upcoming annual Stark Industries Convention. It was going to be Peter’s first year presenting his own project with his team and you were so excited to be a part of it.

The time you’ve spent with Peter was really fun. He was a good mentor and a great friend. The only thing was that you couldn't help but look at him a little too long, and you’ve found yourself thinking about him during your classes or doing your homework. The shy boy from Midtown High was no more, replaced– no, grown into the Peter you know now. But you pushed all feelings aside to focus on your next thesis paper and mock-up of the handout brochures of Peter’s project.

Sometimes, you didn't even feel like an intern as Peter would ask for any ideas you had to make the project better and even let you help with assembly. He stayed true to his words and you’ve never once had to run for coffee or things like that. There’d be times when you would study some of the little parts under a magnifying glass and he’d come up slightly behind you and explain about some of the bits on the working table.

And every time he did that, your breath would be stuck in your throat and you’d have to remind yourself that this was just Peter helping you out and you’re just learning. But it was normal to want more every now and then… right?

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The convention was just a few days away and you had trouble finding something to wear. These events were usually black tie events, but did that mean the presenting teams as well? Wouldn't that be uncomfortable?

One of the guys on your team, Richie, sat with you during lunch and talked about how he was probably going to wear the same suit as always. Not because he couldn't afford a new suit, but he was just a simple person and he only wears it once a year for the conventions and that’s all, so it’s still in mint condition.

The girls on your team and some from others were going dress shopping the day before and invited you to join. You were excited mainly because now you don't have to bother MJ for it.

Speaking of MJ, you were going to ask her to come with you. Pepper sent out the electronic invitations to everyone in the company and authorized plus ones to even interns. She’s never been to one – for reasons you were still confused about – but you wanted your best friend to be there for you. And if not MJ, then you bet Ned would still come with you. Wait, what if he’s going with Peter?

On cue, Peter had sat in the chair next to yours in the small break room, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey Pete. You excited for Saturday?” Peter quietly stirred his coffee and gave you a small smile, “Uh, yeah. I’m nervous, but I’ve worked really hard on this. And everyone, too. Including you.”

You slightly blushed. I didn't do all that much you thought. You two just sat there taking small sips from the hot, bitter beverage.

“So… I wanted to ask you something,” Peter started.

“Mhm?” The coffee nearly slipped past your lips. You quickly grabbed a napkin to lightly dab some of it off of your lips.

“Well, as you know, we can bring anyone with us to the convention,” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Is he going to…

“And I wanted to know if you were bringing MJ with you.” Oh. You nodded your head and thought you hid your disappointment well but without knowing, Peter actually caught it for a split second. “Good. You can come with me,” he smiled and stood up.

You were in awe; without effort, Peter just asked you to be his date for Saturday.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

“Dude, how are you not ready yet? He’s gonna be here any minute,” MJ sat at her computer per usual working. Your music was too loud for her taste playing from your shared bathroom. Peter said he would pick you up at 7, and it was currently 6:50.

You had put on and removed your make-up at least five times. Something was always wrong; one of the wings would either be thicker than the other, the blush would be the wrong shade, or the lipliner kept going out of place. But, alas, you finally nailed it.

Your hair was styled half up with elegant curls and braids. In between some braids were little bits of baby’s breath flowers. Most likely, you were going to have a hard time taking those out but they looked cute and it was too late to take them out.

Your dress was right above your knee and flowed comfortably so you wouldn't have a hard time walking. It was a neutral taupe color and had a V-line that ended just above cleavage and hugged the curve of your waist. You paired it with simple black heels and a small, white handbag.

“He’s here,” MJ informed you.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “what do you think?” You spun around and held your arms out. “You look really pretty. Now go get ‘em. I’ll watch it on the live stream.” She gave you a lazy thumbs up and resumed her work.

Outside was Peter in an all-black apparel. His dress shirt had only one button undone, and he had a loose blazer that accentuated the dip of his shoulders. He stood against the limo with his hands at his sides. God, he’s gonna be the death of me.

When he caught sight of you, he had a flirtatious smirk on his lips and held out for your hand. “Peter, where’d this limo come from?”

“Mr. Stark set it up for me,” he stated like it was no big deal. Must be nice being his favorite. He held the door for you to climb in and closed the door behind him. “We’re ready, Happy,” he told the driver. Happy rolled his eyes, closed the window and drove off.

The convention was off to a great start; Tony Stark came in with his suit as he always loved to do and started introductions before everyone else scattered around to look at the projects of the many departments in his company. Some groups of certain departments had large stages, some had small stands, like Peter’s.

There were still large crowds coming to see the smaller presentations, and everyone seemed to be fascinated with Peter's. You stood on the side as his team operated the machine and Peter spoke. He looked confident and it was mesmerizing to watch him.

After the night was over, all employee’s and some guests were brought back to headquarters for the after party. You walked around with Peter and had flutters in your heart every time he held the small of your back. The most exciting part of the night was meeting Tony Stark in person. He greeted Peter warmly, and then his eyes landed on you, “Peter, who’s this?”

“Oh, this is Y/N. She’s a friend of mine,” he gestured for you. You shook Tony’s hand and stood starstruck. “The one you don’t shut up about?” Pepper hit his shoulder and laughed nervously.

“Wait, I’ve heard about you. Buddy of mine works at Empire State and he showed me your paper, it was really good.” You were still shocked that he had even read it and here he was talking to you about it. You went back and forth talking about nano-technology.

On the way home, you and Peter talked and laughed about things you told him as you caught him up to what was happening on campus when he couldn't be there. It was a really fun night, and Peter was more noticeably relaxed now that the hard part was over. “Alright, home sweet home,” Happy announced through the window.

“Well, that’s me,” you smiled sadly, not wanting the night to end. You reached to open the door but Peter climbed out from his side. He walked around to open your door and just like he did earlier, held his hand out for you to grab and assist you out the limo. What was different this time was that he kept his hand in yours as he walked you to the door of the apartments. “I had a great time with you tonight,” Peter confessed.

“Me too,” your voice was soft and low for only him to hear. Peter’s eyes switched from looking into yours to your lips before he grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you. The kiss was needy, passionate, but had a certain gentleness to it. Once he felt you kiss him back with the same fervor, he deepened the kiss and brought one hand to pull your waist closer to him.

You pulled apart to regain your breath and looked to admire his swollen lips and he copied the same notion. He leaned in to give you a gentle kiss and pulled away, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Peter.” Your cheeks were flushed and your face was warm. You watched him as he left and ran inside. Upstairs in your apartment, you found MJ and Ned sitting on the couch with a bag of chips in each of their hands.

“Good night?” Ned asked. You just nodded and walked slowly to your room.

“We saw the whole thing, by the way,” MJ said nonchalantly. You looked back to glare at your best friends, Ned smiling innocently at you and MJ keeping her straight face.

You changed into your pajamas and laid on your bed on your back, looking up at the ceiling. You couldn't wait to go back to work on Monday.

—

requests open!

[ivyyreid]

greek tragedy

description: breakups are hard. but you usually don't completely change who you are and start killing, right?

category: angst

tw: mentions of self harm, eating disorders, breakups, knives, mentions of stab wounds, death, suicide, blood, men, guns, self-loathing, one-sided love.

masterlist

sometimes, i don't know what haunts me more.. the memories of you... or the happy person i used to be.

--

two years and two months ago.

spencer came into the bullpen with a gleam in his eye. a shy kind of happiness. the kind that makes you blush, and makes you embarrassed. the kind that makes people feel like kids again.

vivian came in with the same smile. the same red on her cheeks, the same glint in her eyes.

they both felt like kids again. happy, and in love.

they held hands under the table in the conference room. everyone noticed. and everyone smiled a bit more, knowing that two happy people are now making each other happier.

the night before, vivian and spencer had kissed in the rain under the stars. after an eternity of falling for each other, they finally gave in.

when they came in the next day, vivian's blonde hair seemed a little more golden, her eyes a little more warm. spencer's face seemed softer, and relaxed.

they played in the park, and watched nineties movies, and ate thai on the roof while watching the stars. all with the biggest goofiest smiles on their faces.

because you're nothing if not crazy when you're in love.

two months ago

blonde hair stained brown.

pink lips turned red.

a realtionship gone sour.

they broke up last week. they stood in the rain once again. but this time the rain didn't bring hope, and a new start. this time the rain fell, tainting the blue sky gray.

the girls heart shattered onto the pavement. pieces on the sidewalk, pieces in the grass. pieces being washed away by the rain.

no one knows what they said to each other, how it ended.

all they know is that the cuts on vivian's wrist are fresh, and that the numbers on her scale have rapidly declined.

she came into work on monday, her golden blonde hair painted dark brown, her young pink lips stained blood red. everyone stared, except spencer. she stared at no-one, but spencer.

she was there for a day after the breakup. maybe two. long enough to know that someone else had already brought a gleam into spencer's eyes. that someone else was already making him happy.

no one saw her after that. she left quickly and quietly. one day, her desk was personalized and filled with framed pictures, the next it was empty and bare. you could say that her desk matched her heart.

now, she lies on the floor of her bathroom. head pounding, rivers of red seeping onto the tiled floor.

one month ago.

seven men stabbed twice in the heart, all dead, over the course of two weeks. all left with red carnations.

the bau accepts the invitation to take on the case.

vivian watches the news coverage announcing the bureaus involvement, a smirk dancing on her face as she applies a new coat of lipstick.

one week ago, at the bar.

the bar is full of bodies. bodies against bodies. dancing, sweating, living.

the tall brunette, with the red lipstick and cold eyes slips off her coat, revealing the small black dress underneath. the heartless predator.

a drunk mans eyes follow the woman's every move. analyzing her every curve, watching the way her lips part. he sets down his glass and walks over. the unsuspecting prey.

he makes his way through the crowd, licking his lips as he nears vivian. her blonde hair, now turned brown, and her blood red lips enchant him.

her finger plays with her straw, spinning it around in her drink as she makes eye contact with him. she tilts her head slyly, and smiles a bit. egging him on.

"jonathan," he says, standing over her.

"cleo," she responds, flipping her dark hair over her exposed shoulder. she stands up, hand on his tie, and leans forward to whisper seductively in his ear:

"let's get out of here, jonathan."

three days ago, at the bau.

"we have a new body," hotch announces as he walks into the room. he pins a few pictures to the board. the first, an image of a smiling man. dark brown hair, dark eyes, and a square jaw. the next few are the body. dumped carelessly in an alleyway. two stabs to the heart, and red carnations scattered onto the body.

"woah," emily says, concern lacing her voice. "that makes fourteen bodies now."

"she's devolving," morgan adds. "speeding up the kills. her last kill was only one day ago, she's getting more dangerous. but she's also more likely to slip up."

the team nods to this, each thinking their own separate thoughts. eventually, they will all come to the same conclusion. the same suspect. but they won't share their ideas until it's too late.

the teams profile:

the unsub is female.

she recently suffered heartbreak, and has a newfound prejudice against men.

she changes her appearance each time. wigs, makeup, etc.

she stabs each victim twice in the heart, which must mean something.

she leaves red carnations at each scene, which means "alas for my poor heart, my heart aches," in some cultures.

she is highly intelligent, driven, but also depressed and self-loathing.

she is likely to have self-inflicted wounds, and possibly try and kill herself.

one day ago, vivian's apartment.

vivian stares in the mirror, and the woman in the mirror stares back at her.

a blonde wig is tossed carelessly on the floor, and boxes of colored contacts join it.

these objects are supposed to be able to change who you are on the outside, but to vivian, they're crushing her even more on the inside.

she doesn't recognize the woman in the mirror. the dark straight hair, red lips, and hollow eyes. the woman in the tight dress and heels.

she looks down, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over her face. this isn't the girl that spencer loved. she isn't the girl that spencer loved anymore.

and then she looks back up, and her heart stops. because there she is.

the girl in the mirror has long, wavy blonde hair and sparkling green eyes. her eyes are full of life, not hollow and lifeless. her lips are pink, her cheeks flushed, her face innocent. her sundress hangs perfectly around her frame, and underneath her bright converse her socks mismatch.

the girl that spencer loved. the girl vivian stopped being when spencer stopped loving here.

the image takes vivian's breath away for a second, and a tear slips down her face, but she doesn't stop staring at the reflection, hoping that if she stares hard enough the girl will die and leave vivian alone.

her stare turns into a smirk. smirking at the innocent, dumb, oblivious girl. laughing silently at her.

the girl was oblivious to the heartbreak that awaited her. the emptiness that would creep into her soul.

the girl that was so blindly in love with the man that didn't care for her, even though he acted like he did.

maybe she was still in love with him. just a bit. even after he broke her heart, she still loved him. but she also hated him.

fuck spencer.

a couple of hours ago, bau.

vivian's face is front and center on the tv. her blonde hair, green eyes, and large smile.

the team sits around the table, shocked at the conclusion they came to.

vivian, their ex-coworker who always seemed so perfect and happy, is the unsub? vivian killed fifteen men?

they may want to deny it, but they all know it makes sense.

she broke up with spencer and completely fell apart. she quit her job. spencer says she was angry and sad and completely broken, hence the hate towards men. and the killings started around the time her and spencer broke up. even the number of stabs on each body makes sense. two stabs for two years her and spencer were together.

they're all shocked, but most can still talk, and move, and discuss. spencer is just frozen.

how could vivian have killed someone?

forty-five minutes ago, vivian's apartment.

spencer looks around the apartment, flashlight held and gun drawn.

when he used to come over, the apartment was homey and life like. plants would hang from the ceilings, and would sit on shelves. books were scattered on tables, and the floor to ceiling bookshelf would be disorganized. she used to have pictures of her and the team, and of spencer everywhere. but now it's bare, and empty. if spencer knew any better he would think no one lived there at all.

the team does a quick search, clearing all the rooms before gathering again in the living room.

"she's obviously not here, but she knows that we know it's her. she's been wanting us to know." derek says, and glances at spencer. "spencer, is there anywhere she liked to go, anywhere close?" he asks, and spencer furrows his brow.

"the roof! she liked to watch the sky!" he says suddenly, and hotch nods. the team climbs up the flights of stairs to get to the roof, which at first glance appears to be empty, until spencer notices a woman sitting against the chimney.

"spencer no way, she's armed man," derek says as spencer moves forward, but spencer tells him it's ok. he knows her. she has no intention of hurting him.

vivian stares at him, a tears falling down her face. spencer sits down next to her, eyes widening when he notices the knife in her hands. pointed at her own heart.

"vivian..." he says cautiously, taking in her died hair and red lips, "this isn't you. put the knife down." at this, vivian collapses into a fit of sobs, trailing mascara down her cheeks.

"i'm so sorry spencer," her voice is shaky and she's crying, but she keeps the knife pointed upwards towards her heart.

"please vivian just put the knife down," spencer whispers, his voice cracking a bit.

"i can't spencer, i have to do this," she sobs. "i killed....i killed so many people and i can't stop myself and i still love you but i hate you and you broke my heart but i have to do this spencer."

the boys eyes are sad, because deep down he knows he can't stop her from doing this. but he'll still try,

"please vivian, i-i love you," he pleads, but vivian just shakes her head, and laughs through her tears.

"no you don't spencer," she whispers, smiling a bit. "but it's ok. you will never have to hurt the way you know that i do," she says, and spencer knows whats coming. her grip on the knife tightens, and in a flash she jams it into her heart, gasping a bit as it deepens.

"no!" spencer yells, as she slumps and collapses. blood trickles from her lips, and her tears spill from her eyes. but still, she smiles. because it's finally over.

her final breath isn't sad, it's relieved. because she doesn't have to suffer anymore. the sadness, pain, and anger is finally gone.

spencer is tearless. her death was shocking, sad, but it was truthful. maybe she deserved it, even wanted it, but spencer knew she was going somewhere where she was happier.

happier without him.

as spencer stares at her body, laid out on the concrete, he sees the girl he loved. the blonde hair, sea green eyes, and the innocent face.

innocence, purity.

and all he can think about as she's wheeled into the ambulance, covered by the blanket is who she used to be. who she really is.

the beautiful, happy girl.

maybe one day, in another life she'll find true love.

who knows?

all anyone knows is that the day that her heart poured a red river onto the concrete, she started over. she began anew.

and maybe that was better for everyone.

[blackhorsedances]

What do you do with a broken god?

Or, in this case, goddess?

We recently moved from Colorado to very rural Missouri, a fact that many folks around here seem to find puzzling. I mean, why would anyone leave the mountains, and the big city, and the hectic urban pace for podunk-nowhere-backwoods-ultrarural life? (City folk ~ crazy?) Well, why?

Okay. So, Colorado has been pretty much my home until two weeks ago. And a lot of factors went into me leaving, including some political concerns, health issues, and an overwhelming desire to live at a slower pace. But mostly, it was to help my son and his lady get a solid start on their dreams.

I have dreams, too, but they've changed. Last year 2021), on my son's birthday, I was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer, which will end my life sooner rather than later. It was not, in fact, the diagnosis that I wanted. It was the one I got. I had hoped, in semi-retirement, to have gardens, and bees, and to dye fibers, and sell fiber-related things, and possibly write and publish some things. All this, mind you, in the mystical land of someday.

And suddenly, here I am, and it's someday.

Since my back is fractured in multiple places, and tumors are effectively invading my entire spine, my mobility is severely limited. I can't lift more than about five pounds without consequences. I can't sit for more than forty-five minutes, or stand for more than fifteen. I can type, sometimes, some days; other days my fingers go numb and my hands spasm.

I am not so much sad or self-pitying about these things as I am annoyed with myself for getting sucked into work-work-work and fun will come after. Because this is my "after", and it blows, and I am the author of this, and possibly the hero, and the villain.

Which has what, precisely, to do with a broken goddess?

Well. I had a statue of Lugh and one of Brighid in all three of her aspects on a shelf in my office. I packed them away when I rearranged. In preparation for the move, I thought about gifting them to a friend, and didn't. So there they were, packed, and they moved with us to Missouri.

We excavated the box from under a larger, heavier box. When I opened the box, I noticed that the central aspect of Brighid (the one who appears to be calling down the moon) is damaged: both of her hands have been broken off.

This is not the first statue of Brighid I've had that has gotten broken. And, the statue was packed to a fare-thee-well.

So, what do I do with a broken goddess? With a goddess that persists in breaking? Finish breaking the statue? Wing it in the bin? Bury it next the dead horses and puppies? Fix it? Wait until I die, and have the kids burn the statues with my worn out meat suit?

[soccerbites]

her and the moon, JJ Maybank

masterlist on bio

a.n: i posted this a few months back but it deleted when i deactivated my old account, so if you feel it familiar that's probably why :) english is not my first language so I'm sorry in advance for any mistake.

words count: 1,3k

warnings: alcohol, maybe a bit of swearing.

(gif not mine if it's yours please tell me so i can give you credits)

I was at John's B house and everyone else was talking about this party being held by one of the kooks that night, Y/N hadn't say a single word since the theme was brought up by Sarah and i perfectly knew why.

- "come on it would be fun" said Sarah with her arms in the air.

- "i mean, they always crash ours so why wouldn't we crash theirs?" everyone agreed with what Kiara just said, except for Y/N.

- "What do you say Y/N?" i asked because i wanted her to be comfortable and i knew this type of things were not at all her comfort zone.

- "i'll do whatever you guys do" she slightly smiled at me and i smiled back.

- "you sure?" i asked her again just to be sure even though i could see she wasn't, Y/N just nodded.

- "great" Sarah happily said.

We stayed there for like another forty minutes and then i walked Y/N to her house.

- "you know that we always can just stay out of it and watch some movies while we eat ice cream or something like that" i said as we approached her home.

- "it's ok JJ, i do not want to be the boring one" i looked at her with my left hand on my waist, "seriously, maybe it ends up being fun, who knows?" she smiled at me.

- "i swear to god, you're something else".

We said goodbye and i kept on walking until i reached my house.

I entered the house and started looking for my friends, and when i was going to give up i saw Kie laughing with Pope in the backyard, i ran towards them.

- "hey man" Pope and i did our not so secret hand shake.

- "Have you seen Y/N?" i asked waiting for them to know.

- "we arrived like twenty minutes ago and she disappeared like fifteen ago" Kie answer my question as she drank the beer left on her red plastic cup.

- "didn't you see where she went?" i really wanted to know how she was doing.

- "hey JJ what's up" John B had just arrived.

- "not much, have you seen Y/N?" i kept on asking.

- "i think i saw her going to the roof probably like five minutes ago" he pointed with one of his fingers to the metal stairs outside the house that went up.

I didn't even say thank you and went directly to the side of the house where the stairs were placed and started going up. When i arrived at the top i saw her sitting while facing the other way, knees up to her chest and her face rested on them. Her hair made waves along the fresh air of the night and i couldn't help but think about how amazingly beautiful she is. She was wearing a sky blue crop top, white loose shorts and her usual converse. I walked up to her and sat down on her side, there was a beautiful sight of the ocean and the stars and moon in front of us.

- "you were right" she said after a few seconds of just sitting there.

- "about what?" i asked while looking at how the waves crashed on the coast.

- "about coming here, i should've stayed home" i felt her gaze on me.

- "we can go if you want to" i suggested while embracing my knees as she was doing with hers.

- "nah, i like it here, you can barely hear the loud shitty music" i giggled and noticed how she shivered, i took off the red hoodie i was wearing and gave it to her, "thank you, that's very kind of you" i watched her putting the piece of clothing on.

- "i love you" i said very low but she heard me anyways.

- "what? i couldn't listen to you" Y/N said as she was placing her head inside the hood.

- "nothing" i extended my legs not giving importance to it.

- "ok you weirdo" she laughed at me and positioned her body between my legs, facing the ocean while her back and head rested on my chest.

We were in silence for some minutes, just me, her and the moon. This is what i liked about her, we could be in silence for hours and it would never get weird, every time i arrive at her house with a new bruise or cut from a fight with my dad she doesn't make any questions, she's always there and i know there's no way she'll ever judge me for anything.

- "what do you think will happen when all this high school shit is over?" she suddenly asked.

- "in what way exactly?"

- "i mean, what are you planning on do?" she turned her face a little to look at my eyes and i gazed down so i could see hers.

- "what am i planning on do?" i asked, she just nodded, "i didn't really think 'bout it, getting a job or something"

- "but, you're staying on the island right?" she sounded concerned?.

- "of course i'm staying here, i can't go anywhere else" i paused and hugged her as a cold breeze passed, "besides that, i don't want to leave the island you know, i've never gone anywhere else and i love it here".

- "me too" Y/N said.

- "i thought you were going to study at the University of Colorado? we've been talking about it the whole summer" I was surprised by what she was saying, it was pretty much the only thing she'd talked about in the last month.

- "i was" i looked down at her again, she scrunched her nose, "but then i realized that it was never my dream, i mean, before my dad brought it up it had never crossed my mind, and i don't think i like the idea of it, i've never gone out of the island too" i smiled "and i would never survive more than a week without seeing you" i hugged her again and kissed her head as we slowly swayed side to side.

- "i said something before" she nodded, i needed to tell her now that i know she's not going away, "it's something i didn't tell you in the past weeks because until know you were gonna go away in a few months and i thought it was worthless but now i'm kinda feeling like i should tell you ".

- "spit it out pretty boy" T/N said as she ran her hand through my hair, i smiled to that.

- "ok so, we've known each other since when? it feels like forever-"

- "it actually is, when we were like three years old you used to cross the street all alone and ask my mum if you could play with me, i never understood how you managed to start talking 'properly' before than i did" she laughed.

- "sshh let me finish love, and as you said i would never survive more than a week without you 'cause you're the only person that keeps me sane and can actually calm me down" i glanced at her and she was smiling, "and i know that i'm probably not the best person you'll ever meet and that you could do so much better but-" i couldn't stop talking because her lips were already on mine, they were cold but soft, we both smiled through the kiss.

- "i heard you before" she said while placing her head on my chest again and looking at me.

- "you did?" i asked, confused as why she didn't say a thing.

- "yeah" she smiled, "i just played dumb to see what would you do" i kissed her forehead.

- "so, what you say?" i asked.

- "about?" she answer back with another question.

- "about spending the rest of our lives stuck in this place" i laughed at my own words.

- "i'll actually would love to"

We were in the roof the rest of the night, making out and laughing at our own bad jokes, and even after the party ended we were still there, watching the sunrise.

I've never felt more comfortable and calm in my short life, and i have to admit that if being stuck in the island for the rest of my life is going to be like this, i would never change it for anything else.

[silverinia]

I came for Baranski, I stayed for Baranski - a quick Christmas On The Square review someone* actually asked for

(* thank you, anon)

Disclaimer: I am in no way a professional of any sorts when it comes to film and I'm not a journalist either. The last movie review I've written was probably for a school assignment in eighth grade. I didn't do research for this and I've watched the movie exactly one time, so this is just for fun.

It was a Sunday, Sunday the 22nd of November, nearing the end of the train wreck of a year that is 2020. I woke up on an air mattress around seven am, my head aching, my throat itching with pyrosis and light nausea, it was still dark outside behind the closed blinds in front of the windows, when I slowly realised where I was, one of my best girlfriends sleeping next to me in her bed. I had crashed at her place after a warm, fuzzy evening of mulled wine, tacky Christmas movies I would never watch alone (Christmas Chronicles and Holiday Calendar, which I quite honestly didn't enjoy at all, but the company made it fun anyway), doing our nails, wearing the fun kind of face masks for a change and smoking too many cigarettes, as the soft pain in my head informed me right now. She woke up an hour later and the morning went by with coffee and reheated pizza for breakfast, when we decided to watch another movie and I realised that it was THE Sunday I'd been waiting for through Zoom interviews and Dolly Parton twitter memes and the infamous wig gate that will be briefly discussed in the following, and so we clicked on the small icon in the Netflix menu that said "Christmas On The Square".

And oh boy, was it a ride.

To start off, I should mention that I have a hard time watching most modern day American Christmas movies, as I noticed quite vividly again when I watched the two aforementioned Netflix productions last night. The character development is always foreseeable to say the least, the plot lines are plain clichés hunting each other like they're the kids in The Hunger Games, and the writing is generally so bad that you can join the actors in reciting the entire scripts on your first watch. I watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas once a year while I'm gift wrapping and pause every fifteen minutes to shamelessly stare at forties Christine Baranski (I think we should all turn away from the birth of Jesus and instead count our years based on Christine Baranski's date of birth) in flamboyant nightgowns and short Christmas themed dresses, looking so fabulous that every interpreter of Santa Baby ever could only dream of it, I watch Love Actually at least five times a year to lust over Hugh Grant, cry with Emma Thompson and miss Alan Rickman, I enjoy Bridget Jones, which I would definitely consider a Christmas movie, and that's it. That's my yearly Christmas time entertainment routine and I can barely tolerate anything beyond, because I'm still traumatised from the time when I was around five years old and on a holiday family visit where had to sit through National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, the dumbest movie I have ever seen (my apologies if you like it but also, who hurt you?), with my cousins. I hated it. I hated every minute of it. And it scarred me for life.

But this was a Christine Baranski movie, I knew she was going to play the lead and so I was pretty much as excited about this as I could. And the fact that Dolly Parton wrote the whole thing didn't hurt either. As I said earlier to my friend I was watching it with, I have the pop cultural taste of a fifty year old gay man, a quality I am most proud of, and this simply ticked off all my boxes.

I expected something similar to a Mamma Mia experience that wouldn't cause me to crave packing my bags, give Covid the finger and run off to Greece. Light-hearted entertainment, easy to stomach, uplifting music and so little plot that the simplicity feels like a creative choice. That's what my pained, hungover brain knew it could cope with and that's not what I got.

The movie started and I was immediately in the zone. I saw Christine Baranski's name in the front credits (an experience that never fails to make me scream "Yass Queen" at the screen, regardless of where I am and who I'm with, as if I'm the sobering result that pops out of the package when you order Jonathan Van Ness on Wish), the setting was wonderfully corny (I grew up watching Gilmore Girls once a week, so give me warm fairy lights and a gazebo and I'm perfectly happy) and as my friend wondered whether Dolly Parton, in her exaggerated homeless attire that didn't make her look shabby at all, was green-screened into the setting because she stood out so much (which she was because the background dancers were dancing in slow motion, but to be fair, we were probably still a little too drunk to notice that from the start) and I told her I thought that it was just the natural glow someone who's Dolly Parton simply carries with them everywhere they go, I was happy. This was the movie I was prepared for. A movie in which the most problematic thing would be stereotypical characters and the wig they hid Christine's real, flawlessly handmade by God herself hair under.

And then, around five minutes in, Christine Baranski's childhood love interest was revealed as she pressed her perfect pointy nose against the window of his shop and sang about her unrequited love.

And suddenly, things started taking turns at a pace I was still way too sleep-deprived for.

Suddenly, in the middle of my general amazement at seeing Christine Baranski do literally anything and laughing loud at her impeccable comedic delivery, there were unresolved daddy issues, hanging prominently at the wall in her marvellously designed house (she literally says "Daddy" at one point and I couldn't help but think that only someone with her vocal skills could keep from making it sound cringe-worthily kinky). One moment, I was clutching my chest above my heart while she was bonding with little bartender Violet and munching on pretzels while downing some whiskey in that elegant way only Christine Baranski can bond with ten year olds who had it rough, eat pretzels and down whiskey, and the next she felt responsible for said girl's mother's death (which she kinda was too, but I'm not the boss of her). I was still busy making fun of how the very annoyingly, but when you're snacking on pizza with extra cheese at nine in the morning also highly funny, slow talking pastor's name was Christian, and suddenly there was a cancer scare.

It was a lot, a hasty sprint from major issue to major issue with a hint of comedic relief every now and then, and it didn't get any less until the very, rather poorly resolved, end.

The entire, constant up and down was followed by the movie's peak of suspense, the near death of precious Violet, something I couldn't even get too invested in because I was still so busy worrying about Christine's MRT results (I was truly fucking worried), not to mention that I hadn't even started to really process the sudden revelation of the love child and how it had affected her character's actions until this point. Was her constant tendency of pushing people away, as we've seen most clearly with her angel in training assistant who's name I cannot recall right now, the result of her broken trust in her father who practically ripped her son away from her after she had just given birth to him? Was it a result of her never getting the closure she needed with plaid flannel wearing Carl she was clearly still in love with? Maybe both? And what of the many issues was it that made her so incredibly shaken up when Violet blamed herself for her mother's death? Was it 'just' due to the fact that the closed pharmacy was on her, or was there more to it? Was it because she had grown up without a mother herself? Or did I miss a major piece of information because I was momentarily distracted, dumbfoundedly staring at Christine's very blue eyes? No time to ponder on that, little Silverinia, because here comes unconscious Violet in an ambulance, WEE WOO WEE WOO WEE WOO!

I'm not going to go in depth about what plot lines I thought were especially carelessly handled and why, real standouts were the sudden forgiveness towards her father who had still acted like a shitty asshole even though he might have had his reasons, because giving the baby up for adoption just wasn't his choice to make, and the fact that I kind of didn't buy how quickly Regina managed to forgive herself, especially for Violet's mother's passing, considering how deeply her tall, slim, dare I say angelic and entrancing figure was buried beneath the weight of all her issues. It felt rushed and incomplete, but that's as detailed as it gets because my major point is something else.

I think this movie made the great mistake of trying to be more than your average, flat, happy ending Christmas movie. I think no one involved thought it was possible to make it a big hit if the only real plot would've been great Dolly Parton music, fun ensemble dance choreographies, Christine Baranski's outstanding acting skills, fun settings and costumes and a redemption arch with as little plot as it could possibly take to make Christine likable to those who aren't already lost forever in the rabbit hole of being obsessed with her (poor fuckers, can't relate). They didn't notice that with the legends that were involved, they could've easily gone the Mamma Mia way. And I think that's why they tried to include heavier plot lines than most creators would've chosen, experiencing loss at an early age, struggling to find closure, dealing with sickness, teenage pregnancy, parents forcing their choices on their children when they affect their childrens' lives first, adoption, and the fear of losing your kid.

It was a lot and I don't want to say that it didn't work because my friend was crying, like, pretty hard and I questioned my entire existence all through the movie in not the worst way, and I did enjoy it a lot while watching. The "grief is love with nowhere to go" line was a real standout, for example, where the attempt of complexity DID work. It positively gave me fleabag season two, "I don't know what to do with it now, with all the love I have for her." - "I'll take it. It sounds lovely. You have to give it to me." feels, and that's about the biggest praise I can come up with. BUT (and this is written in capital letters because it's the big but) I'm also totally convinced that I wouldn't have enjoyed it if they hadn't cast Christine Baranski for the lead role. In my humble opinion, the hasty, not really at all resolved plot of this movie only worked because Christine Baranski is just a fantastic actress. She quirks a mocking eyebrow and you laugh. She parts her perfectly painted red lips and you immediately hang on them because you don't want to miss a single breath she, a literal goddess, graces us mere peasants of people with. She smiles and you're happy. She laughs and even while she's still laughing, you can't wait to hear her do it again. Her eyes fill with tears and you feel goosebumps on your arms, her voice slightly trembles, a breath hitches in her throat and you feel your heart shattering to pieces. As Chuck Lorre once said, this woman could read you the phone book and you would end up laughing tears because she just gets the job done. She knows what she's doing, she's an absolute pro in her game, and it doesn't matter, not even a little bit, what she's working with, because the work she eventually delivers with it is always at a minimum of 200%. I forced my friend to watch this movie with me because I adore this woman, and I felt for this movie because I felt for her. It wasn't the plot that sadly brutally overestimated itself, it wasn't the songs that I obviously enjoyed, nor the comedic elements that truly made me laugh a lot, it was all her. I came for Baranski, and I stayed for Baranski. This woman can do anything. She can even look graceful in a terrible wig job.

(side note / unpopular opinion: I actually didn't think the wig was all too bad. It wasn't good, actually far from good, but for me, nothing can match the awful wig game of Mamma Mia 2. I loathed that wig, I absolutely cannot stand it. So this didn't feel all that terrible. It definitely wasn't the most problematic part about the movie.)

I enjoyed watching this. It was a nice distraction from all the bullshit in the world. Watching it today was the first thing this year that actually brought me something close to excitement about the holiday season, even though everything will be very different and probably not quite as jolly this year. But it just gave me good vibes and as someone who did not watch this as a film reviewer, that's the biggest part of what leads me to enjoy a movie.

Will I watch this again? For sure. Will I enjoy it when I'm not hungover, having freshly done nails and munching delicious pizza for breakfast? Probably not as much, but it'll still have Christine Baranski in it. Would I recommend watching this? If you share my obsession with Queen B, one hundo. If you don't, probably not.

[dorotheajanegilmore]

Closer to you - Chris Evans

CHAPTER ONE

Throwing my small brown faux leather bag over my shoulder, I raced down the cold metal staircase at the back of my apartment building. The elevator had broken down throwing a wrench into the works of my morning and now I was breaking a sweat to get myself back on track.

Finally the rusted blue door of an exit was in site. Just outside were the freezing cold streets of Manhattan.

My palms met the blue metal and my arms pushed until my elbows were flat. The door pushed through the snow leaving a semi-circle of wet pavement exposed beneath. 

I ran through the frosty street, passing a few strangers. As I came to the end of the street where the quiet road merged with the busy road, a familiar white Toyota came purring around the corner. 

My best friend Holly pulled up at the girl and she leaned across the pull the hand. "Quickly, get in!" She yelled as I hurried across the icy road.

I practically threw myself into the passenger seat and as soon as my door closed Holly sped off. "Let's go girls." 

I looked back at my friends in the back seat. "Morning."

Teegan gave a small wave and Chloe nodded, both of them struggling to keep their eyes open.

I let out a sigh as I took my phone out of my bag, knowing I would have a series of unanswered messages from my mother. "Listen to this." I started, glancing at my friends to get their attention. "Good morning sweetie, have you left yet? Lessi ? You awake? Darling? Have you left the city yet? Where are you? Do you want me to send dad to come and get you? Are you even awake? Oh child of mine do you see the morning light? Hurry up and get here before dinner gets cold. Granddads not getting any younger." My friends were sent into fits of laughter at my mother's lunacy.

“Your mother is the greatest." Teegan mumbled, nearly asleep.

"Agreed. Tracey's the queen of sarcasm." Holly added as she drove onto the highway.

We had a twenty minute bout of silence as we all broke free from the morning anger, apart from Holly who seemed to be too chill for someone with dangerous road rage.

We stopped at McDonald's for some breakfast before hitting the road again. About fifteen minutes into the resumes drive Holly glances at me. "So, does your Mom know about Simon?"

"Alvin And Theodore? Yeah she knows the chipmunks." I bite my lip and look out the window, trying to dodge the question and giving my answer.

Holly rolled her eyes, there was no way she was letting this go. She briefly lifted her hand from the gear stick to hit me on the knee. "Answer me."

"Yeah she knows." I mumbled quietly, just loud enough for my girls to hear. Even though we were secure in the four walls of Holly's car, I still felt like I should be secretive about the subject of Simon.

Simon Holdsworth was my boyfriend for four years before dumping me. Me! After I found him cheating on me in MY bed with some NYU art student who stole my jewellery and the batteries from my tv remote. Ok maybe she didn't take my batteries but I have no other explanation for that so she's getting the blame.

"His mother called my mom and yelled at her because I was a apparently a bitch to Simon. She said I didn't allow him creative freedom to express himself with other women." I rolled my eyes and cursed under my breath.

"Hippies." Chloe shook her head as she picked her nails, remembering when she first met Simon's mother. When Simon first moved in with me we had a house warming party on the roof of our apartment building. Simon's mother, Nora, brought two bags of weed and brownies and set up camp in my living room. Nora also brought various scarfs and blankets that she draped over my living. She also replaced the coasters that my mother bought me for ounces made from tree bark that had been carved into peace signs. Chloe threw them in her log burner as soon as Simon moved out.

"What did Tracey say?" Teegan asked. All of my friend were on first name basis with the fantastic woman that birthed me. Not only were we best friends, we were raised together. We were all born in the same hospital, in the same city. We were raised in the same town, same schools, same university. Plus Teegan is my second cousin so.

"She laughed, told her to piss off and put the phone down."

"Yes Tracey." They all cheered her on.

"It's a pity you can't do the same thing." Holly replied with a serious tone, raising a brow at me.

"Hey, you know I'm strong-willed when it comes to people screwing me over. I just like to argue with him, he tried to get to me. He purposely likes to call and harass to upset me, he wants me to break. He would love nothing more than to see me cry. But he won't win, he won't." I shook my head, feeling the anger curse through me again. "He thrives on hurting people. But he won't hurt me, I won't let him."

"Good on you." Chloe nodded, putting a supportive hand on my shoulder.

Holly nodded in approval. "That's our girl."

\|\|\|\|\

It took three hours and forty minutes to get form Manhattan to the little town of Fairfield, Massachusetts. Soon enough we were surrounded by familiar buildings that had now been covered in a blanket of snow and driving through streets we used to run drunkenly through as we disobeyed our parents (and the law.)

First Holly dropped Chloe to her folks house, then Teegan to hers and finally I was looking at my parents house. I looked back at Holly with a puppy dog look and asked "Can I come to your house for thanksgiving?"

"Of course you can." Holly out a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. "Next year." She then have me a playful shove and I opened the door.

"Thanks for the lift. See you later yeah?" I asked, knowing I'd be needing a drink after an hour with this crazy lot.

"Sure, I'll text you." She nodded.

I grabbed my suitcase from the trunk and headed to the pavement. I gave Holly a wave and she watched me walk up to the driveway. She waited until I knocked and somebody answered before she drove away, always one for safety.

My little brother Alex opened the door. "Shit, when did you get so tall?" I cursed looking up at the nineteen year old.

He chuckled deeply and stepped back for me to go in. "You mean since I saw you two years ago? Yes I've grown. When did you get so short?"

"It's all the coffee." I shrugged as I left my suitcase in the downstairs cupboard and headed into the living room, at least I thought it was the living room. It was in the same place and it was the same shape, however it was all so different.

The red poppy wallpaper above the grey stone fireplace had been taken down and replaced with a cream paper with turquoise flowers, it also had an overspray if light silver glitter that matched the silver chandelier and doorhandles. The normally dark doors had been replaced with white ones and the rest of the walls painted white as well. My sweet childhood cottage had been replaced with a modern townhouse.

The burgundy couches had been replaced with chocolate colours leather and my dad's favourite recliner was nowhere is sight.

Moving further throughout the house i couldn't see any of my relatives. I looked back at Alex and asked "So, where is everyone?"

"Dad's in the garage working on the car and Mom, Nana and Lucy are in the garden with Joe and Leo." I nodded and walked through the kitchen to get to the back door.

I stopped in my tracks when I saw that there was now an orangery that had been extended into the back of our house, I glanced back at Alex to see him shrug at me.

He stepped around me and walked through the orangery into the open backyard. I followed slowly, taking in the new changes. I quickly glanced back at the kitchen. Huh, no changes their. The grey slate and white marble must've been modern enough for Mom.

I stepped out into the yard to see my mother, sister and grandmother gathered at the fence talking to our neighbours. Joe and Leo were over at the trampoline, at least there was one piece of my childhood left.

Leo gave me a wave and I waved back, this must've caught my nephew's attention as he stopped jumping, letting gravity drop him on his ass so he could jump from the trampoline and sprint across the yard.

As he ran at me I saw him lift his arms and I knew exactly what he was gonna do. He jumped as high as he could, I reached forward and caught him at the torso and he wrapped his arms around my neck.

"Auntie Alessia!" He yelled as he hugged me tightly. His shouting caused my family to turn their attention to me. I hugged Joe back before setting him down on the soft grass and kneeling down to talk to him.

"Hi bud! How are you?" I asked as I held his hand.

He beamed brightly and showed me his teeth. One of his front teeth had fallen out. "Look, I'm a big boy now." He pointed excitedly at his mouth.

"Wow!"

"My mommy said that if I put my tooth under my pillow the tooth fairy will come and she will take it and leave me a dollar! A whole dollar!"

"Well let's not encourage selling our body parts. Here." I reached into my back pocket and took out my change from earlier. "Here's five bucks, give your tooth to your dad."

He nodded and looked at me like I was crazy. "Thank you auntie Lessia!" He hugged me again before running back to Leo and the trampoline.

I stood up and headed over to my mother. As I approached the fence I saw she was talking to a woman I had never seen before. Where's Cheryl? I wondered.

"Oh Alessia, darling. Come meet our new neighbours." My mother wrapped her hand around my arm and practically yanked me over to the fence.

"Hi." I waved politely to the kind woman staring back at me with a warm smile.

"Hello there, Alessia. My name's Lisa. You're mother ya spoken so highly of you, it's so nice to put a face to the name." She said sweetly.

"It's nice to meet you too. Are you new to the area?" I inquired, wondering where our old neighbours had got too.

"Oh gosh no. We moved a few blocks away as my mother passed recently and she left us the house."

"Cheryl? Oh god I'm so sorry. She was the nicest woman, salt of the earth. I'm sorry for your loss." I felt real sadness as I spoke, not believing that sweet old Cheryl had passed on.

"You knew my grandmother?" A deep male voice said from my left. I looked in the direction of the person speaking and nearly had to do a double take. Standing beside Lisa was a very handsome brunette man with striking blue eyes and full beard. He was about 6 foot tall, with muscles and wide shoulders. He was wearing a deep maroon tight long sleeve and navy patriots cap.

"Hi." I breathed out, staring at this specimen in disbelief. How can one person be so unbelievably attractive? "Yes I did. Uh, I grew up doing chores for her. I kept her company on Wednesday's when Arthur would be at darts. She taught me how to bake and knit." I giggled lightly at the memories.

The man gave me a soft smile while Lisa smiled at me. "I'm sure she loved every minute of your company." Lisa nodded at me. "She actually left me a box of things labelled with your name. I'll have to have Chris dig it out and bring it over to you sometime."

"That would be lovely, thank you." I smiled, wondering how I had missed so much.

I could feel her son's eyes on me as I stepped down from the gathering or grass to allow my mom to finish her conversation.

"Hey." My sister Lucy said as she wrapped her arms around me to give me a hug. "I've missed you sister sister."

"Missed you too." I mumbled into her shoulder as she crushed me. She pulled back and placed a hand on her stomach before putting her pinger finger to her lips.

"It's a secret." She whispered and I nodded with wide eyes. Shit. She's pregnant again.

"Congratulations!" I whisper yelled at her and she widened her eyes at me and looked back at my mom and grandmother to see if they noticed. They hadn't, they were busy gossiping with Lisa.

Chapter two

[xmeetyoutherex]

11 minutes

Chapter 3 // Simple

Previous chapters can be found in my masterlist :)

I recommend listening to the song “listen to your heart” by The Maine.

Carter and Calum texted each other all morning. He had finally convinced her to come to a small party Ashton was hosting.

It took a lot of convincing considering Carter was never was the party type of girl. But Calum promised it would be few to no people and extremely relaxed. With that in mind Carter had to agree. She herself was dying to see Calum again. She didn't realize how much she missed him and the boys.

Carter dressed in her usual attire. Just a simple t-shirt and black jeans, added with her black Doc-Martins.

By the time she was ready to leave, the party had already started. She wasn't late because she was working on her outfit. She just honestly didn't want to go. But she hadn't seen Luke and Michael in so long and Calum said that Like would be there. So she grabbed her keys and locked her apartment door and walked up the steps to the not so busy streets of outer LA.

Cater walked down to the subway to find she only had about a minute or two to wait for the train she needed to arrive. As she waited she got her phone out opening up Spotify and plugged her headphones in. She decided to listen to Lana Del Ray.

It was about a forty minute ride to the stop closest to Ashton's Flat. But even though it was the closest stop she still had about a ten to fifteen minute walk. She didn't mind though she was already late what's another ten minutes?

As soon as she arrived she knew she was under dressed and it wasn't a small relaxed party as promised.

Carter was about to just leave, seeing as this was not her scene at all. But then she saw them.

All her worry faded away though as soon as she saw the only reason she even came. Calum was standing in the kitchen waiting exactly where he said he would be, Luke and Ashton close by. He was dressed in a simple t-shirt and black jeans topped with a leather jacket, making her feel less worried about her attire.

As soon as Calum saw her he felt as though it was the first time he had smiled all night. Not even waiting for her to walk all the way to him, he decided to meet her in the middle.

"After about an hour I wasn't sure you were gonna show."

"Well up until about twenty minutes ago I wasn't." She knew she made a last minute decision in coming but she wasn't late because of it, Calum just didn't need to know that. But Calum still knew Carter wasn't joking about making a late decision to come, and he couldn't help but laugh at her comment anyways.

“Is that Carter?” Carter averted her eyes from Calum to behind him to see, a completely different looking, Luke. “Damn, have you changed.”

Carter rolled her eyes at him cause she didn’t change that much, only outgrew her baby face and started wearing makeup. She still had the same glasses she wore in high school, same hair style except instead of a full head of purple only the ends are purple now. She certainly didn’t change as much as him. She gave a snarky reply of, “and that’s coming from you.”

They could all tell she was joking based on the smile embracing her face. Luke went in to give her a hug while saying, “I know I got hot, no need to comment on it though.”

Calum and Ashton burst into laughter and Carter joining with a chuckle of, “but it is true,” as Luke and her separated from the hug.

Luke and Ashton decided to head back into the kitchen leaving Carter and Calum to themselves in the hallway.

"Come on Carter, lets go outside. There's less people out there." He lightly grasped her arm and led her outside.

Calum led her to two chairs away from everyone. Calum dramatically held both his arms out pointing to one of the seats. "Your throne," Calum then bowed his head while having a smirk play at his lips.

"We both know I'm no royalty" Carter’s family was never poor, but she certainly wasn’t getting more than one small Christmas gift a year and only movie nights on her birthdays. They just couldn’t afford to spend money on wasted items and Calum always knew that no matter how secret she always tried to keep it. Calum was one of the only people who ever gave her birthday gifts or random things here and there. They always left her feeling guilty cause she couldn’t do the same back.

"And we both know that has always been a lie." They both let out a slight chuckle but Cal's was heavy and weighted with nerves that he hadn't felt in years.

"I see your still as emo as when we were in high school." Calum observed the Mayday parade shirt that Carter still had from when she saw them in high school. Also the all black theme she was sporting went very well with the notion. A different look to what she had been sporting at the bar a couple weeks ago.

Calum on the other hand was wearing all black, but Carter knew that wasn't his usual attire lately. "And you have seem to made it only a phase."

It was pure joking on Carter's part and Calum could tell from the smile she was wearing. "My attire may have changed, but believe me all four of us only became more emo over the years."

"Your new style suits you," carter complimented while rolling her eyes sarcastically with her next comment. "Even though I feel betrayed here."

"Hey, I said that I would be emo forever with you, that doesn't include the clothes." They both broke into laughter and Calum couldn't help but feel all of the nerves he had, at the beginning of the night, fade away.

Their laughter drowning out the rest of the crowd and people allowing for another everlasting night.

....

Her and Calum talked about everything and nothing for hours. It was probably around 2:00 a.m. when they finally realized the party was dead. Looking inside, Carter could only see Ashton and Luke cleaning. She took that as her que to go help and then get ready to head home. Before she could get up though Calum was talking again.

"You love this song." It took her a minute to process what he just said until the lyrics started sinking in.

We're too young this is never gonna work

She could still remember the first time she listened to that song. Her and Calum were just sitting in her bedroom listening to random music. Calum still remembers her whispering how she adored this song.

That's what they say, "your gonna get hurt"

Calum stood up and held out his hand for her. All she could do was scoff at him. He knew she didn't dance, well at least not in public places where others could possibly see her.

"Come on just take my hand, no one's watching."

She reluctantly took his hand, and he immediately pulled her close to him. "Cal this isn't a slow song," Carter said while pulling back putting about a foot between them.

"So is it a mosh song then?", Calum began to jump a little swinging Carters arm.

She beamed at him, "Of course." Calum released Carters hand and they both began to jump and shout the lyrics at each other. It probably seemed childish to people looking in on them, but to them in felt like they were back in high school. It felt easy to be childish again.

They started singing the lyrics at each other. Each of them taking a turn and as they sang they stuck their faces out towards the other.

This promise doesn't have to be so loud,

Just whisper I could find you in a crowd.

I think it's time we ran away.

Your father says I'm not good enough for you.

Your mother she thinks that this is just a phase,

I think that we should run away.Don't listen to the world, they say we're never gonna make it.

Don't listen to your friends, they would've never let us start.

Don't listen to the voices in your head,

Listen to your heart.

As Carter and Calum stared into each other's eyes with the biggest smiles on their faces, It felt safe. It felt simple. Neither of them would do this with anyone else. It would be too embarrassing, but with each other it was normal. It felt like nothing changed even after all these years.

Don't listen to the world, they say we're never gonna make it,

But I know we'll make it.

When the song ended another The Maine song came on and Calum commented, "who gave Luke control over the music?"

The two began to do the same thing to the song Right Girl without a regret in the world.

As Carter and Calum danced around laughing to each other, Luke and Ashton couldn't help but notice.

"I can't believe Carter made her way back into our lives again." Luke was still shocked by the coincidence. At first he hadn't believed Ashton when he told him.

Ashton let out a content sigh, "God am I glad she did." Ashton Hadn't seen Calum smile like that for too long, it was overdue. And Ashton being him, he decided to take a video.  He saw how when the two danced around to the music the world disappeared in a sweet bliss.

A/N: well......................... it’s longer. It’s so freakin cheesy the pizza is five inches thick.

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[ollieoliooo-blog]

When they were ten years old, I told them goodbye for the last time. They didn't know it at the time, but I had been crying. Me, a great beast, capable of driving even the most cheerful child to hysteria, crying.

"Goodnight, my little haunting," I had cooed quietly, brushing their hair from their face and praying to whatever entity above that they didn't detect the tremor in my voice.

They hummed tiredly, stretching their arms above their head and snuggling further into their pillow.

"Mhmmmmm... 'm gonna see ya t'morrow?" But before I could reply, they fell asleep with a sigh. Instead of replying, I just growled, deep in my throat, cursing my own stupidity.

I had known this was coming.

The next night, I made someone else's child cry. But all I heard was my haunting's merry giggles.

When that child grew up, I was assigned to a new one.

The little one, my little one, grew older. At fourteen, they couldn't remember me enough to even sketch my face. At fifteen, they hit the ever famous emo phase. They hated me, I know. At seventeen, they started wearing colors again. I know this because I had haunted their cousin. The haunting had no idea.

At twenty, they started college. It was during this time that I could see them again. Their roomie had a little boy, who I rarely visited. He always screamed when I did, and it was usually my haunting who checked up on him. Every time, they peeked under the bed and into the closet. I couldn't even risk eye contact.

It might've been those nights that made them drop out at 23.

"But why?" Their roomie exclaimed, throwing their hands up.

With a smile, the same kind of tired smile that they had shown me when we last talked, they explained. "I have to find someone."

"Who?"

And on that night, I cried for the second time in my existence. For they had said my name.

After two years, my assignment changed. I was glad, but also incredibly distraught.

Another ten years, and I haunted another little girl. This one was quiet, and in my frustration, it delighted me to hear them cry. It was a distraction of sorts.

After them was another little girl. She had found me absolutely delightful, which is why I never came directly to her. I couldn't afford another little haunting. I wouldn't be able to handle it.

After that point, I had given up hope. Twenty years, and I still hadn't been found. They must've given up by this point, surely.

On the first night of my new job, I found the little boy to be a blow to my heart that I just couldn't handle. The way he stared at me, unafraid and somewhat curious, was just like them. And it made me bitter.

As I hunched over them, tickling their stomach with my claw and tears in my yellowed eyes, the door opened behind me.

"I knew it."

I turned around, and there they were. Forty five years old and tired. I had no doubt of their identity, because there were those eyes. Calm and curious, but filling with tears I had never witnessed before.

"I found you."

Every child is assigned a monster under their bed. Unlike most children, you befriended yours. However, adults don’t get monsters, so when you grew up, yours disappeared. Now, you have set off on a journey to the monster world to find your friend again