#NO CLUE we don’t got enough time for a therapy session *throws it all out the window*

[hplonesomeart]

More animation frame screenshots whoop whoop! I swear it’s almost comedic how he’s managed to hijack my YouTube channel and gain me a baffling amount of new subscribers from OUT OF NOWHERE WHA- someone needs to stop him before this happens again I’m scared /j. It’s been fun watching the numbers increase in real time if not a tad overwhelming, but thankfully it mostly makes me feel appreciative more than anything else. Hopefully it’s made people laugh or helped inspired others <3

I would have talked myself out of sharing it otherwise…so glad I made the right decision with posting there. Took a leap of faith and now I feel validated for doing so. I just hope that I’m doing the characters justice even if adding my own unique spin on it. Plus gotta take a step back and remind myself that viewership isn’t what makes the world go round. Wouldn’t want the numbers getting to my head this early on and intervening with my creative visions jksjskp! I get easily influenced sometimes so finding a healthy balance for it is key :))

In meantime enjoy the facial doodles I love drawing expressions hehe

[jungnoir]

destiny | 09;

⇢ summary: you’re just about ready to give up on life altogether; your love life is in ruins, you’ve lost your job, and your family couldn’t care less about you… and then you meet your blushing guardian angel, and maybe life isn’t so bad after all.

⇢ relationship: jeon jungkook/reader, min yoongi/reader.

⇢ genre: supernatural, angel!au, demon!au, romance, thriller.

⇢ words: 6.5k words.

⇢ warnings: mentions of depression, violence, vomiting. slightly nsfw toward the end.

previously |  next

a/n: happy new year! I know it’s been quite a while (literally an entire year since I’ve updated) but I’ve had this chapter pretty much ready in my drafts and just hadn’t gotten around to finishing because. everything. regardless, I hope this sort of makes up for it. love you all! hope you’re doing well. also WOW I swear a lot in this one.

His hand on your neck is meant to silence any screams that might slip out. He applies the perfect pressure to avoid crushing anything vital (and just by the feel alone, you know he’s got quite an amount of strength to pull that off) while simultaneously stealing all your air and forcing you to cower in fear. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know this guy isn’t someone to be fucked with, and all you can think about is the fact that Jungkook is right outside and has no fucking clue what’s going on. The very thought fills you with dread.

“Then again, you’ve got someone helping you.” What once was just a particular, calculated press against your skin becomes a deliberate act of violence as he begins to choke you harshly. You know the pain of his grip might last for weeks, and that’s only if you don’t die in the next minute. “Just makes me wonder what’s so special about you.”

“Nothing!” You rasp out, clawing at his hand now in some weak attempt at breaking away. If you could make enough noise, enough commotion, surely someone-

-but the stranger has already stopped you quick. You aim to throw the door open or something but his free hand quickly apprehends you until you’re just a squirming mess on the verge of passing out. Even your legs are pressed firmly to the wall by his own body, holding you fast so that you can’t help letting a few tears fall. There was no doubt in your panicked mind that this was Seokjin, the angel who’d been trailing you from the shadows for what felt like centuries. His grand act of approaching you, something you’d dreamed up to be a major climactic brawl in a battlefield made for a spectacle, turns out to be so simple. Perhaps that’s what you got for thinking biblically. Why go through all the trouble when he could just squash the problem the minute a chance presented itself?

Now, all you can think is “I can’t die like this”. A sobering thought of pure contempt. Drowning in the river was preferable to this.

You muster what breath you can, eyes blazing, “How does it feel… being God’s lap dog?”

Seokjin is, funnily enough, stunned for a moment. All bravado slips through a teeny crack in his demeanor when you say that, and even though it’s a low blow, it’s also enough for you to thrust a semi-powerful kick to the dressing room door to make the entire thing shudder like an earthquake. That sound, coupled with your comment, makes Seokjin release you in a panic. You hear some gasps from outside, a few people inquiring if you’re alright. An employee sounds most worried amongst the voices. You’re just shy of swinging the door open and forcing Seokjin to be revealed or to disappear all at once, but then he’s grabbed the back of your collar as you scream in frustrated fury. Seconds later, you’re no longer in the dressing room anymore.

Instead, you fall flat on a rough, sandy surface. You’re overwhelmed with nausea, pain, and fear, so your whole body is struggling to pick up on the most important things outside of that, but you do realize quite fleetingly that it’s sweltering. It takes you a few seconds as you curl up on the ground to peek behind your hands that shield your face and discover that it’s blindingly bright where you are, almost like a…

For fuck’s sake. “Of all the places…” You whine with a sore throat, coughing right after from the strain.

Seokjin stands above you and uses his foot to kick you onto your back so that you’re staring up at him and the baby blue sky. His hair color plays against it in an unfittingly gentle contrast, “I thought we might need somewhere safer to discuss things. Oh, and speaking of discussion,” he waves a hand near you and you instinctively flinch back before you feel the pain in your throat subside. You wait a few seconds, but it seems whatever he’d just done had no effect on the rising bile in your throat, so you assume that’s something you’ll have to deal with on your own. What an ass. “Feel better?”

“Fuck you! Maybe if you hadn’t choked me out in the first place-”

“You’d have listened?”

“Maybe if you hadn’t hunted us down to kill us, we would have!”

Seokjin frowns, “I didn’t bring you here to talk about you and that boy, I brought you here to talk about you. I am only concerned with you.”

Whatever that entailed did not sound good in the slightest.

You scramble to your feet and immediately regret the movement as it makes you sick again. The more than 100 degree weather does nothing to fix that either, the sun beating down on you and bouncing off the dusty white sands directly into your eyes. You’re feeling something nasty rising up from your stomach, ready to projectile…

Just as the scene changes, you paint a Victorian rug with streaks of your vomit.

Seokjin immediately groans out loud, placing a rough hand at the back of your neck like one would grab the scruff of a kitten. You’re far too weak to protest, rubbing at your mouth with the back of your hand, so you let him toss you into a chair. The jerkiness of the action should have sent another eruption out of you, but you recognize the relief that has overwhelmed you from the touch of his hand. Had he fixed that too?

“Never the matter,” the angel growls, waving his hand and making the mess evaporate from the very fibers of the rug, “you’re all very fragile. I should have prepared you first.”

“How can you do all that…?” You couldn’t recall Jungkook or Jimin showing off any power like that, and whether it was because of Seokjin’s status or their modesty (and adherence to rules), you were unsure. Most likely both.

Instead of answering right away, Seokjin reaches forward a moving cart and you finally notice there’s a glass pitcher of water (hopefully) next to an array of empty glasses. You take the time he spends pouring some water for you to examine your surroundings.

It looks like a secret room in an old English manor house. The walls are painted a deep charcoal and with the absence of natural light, you could mistake it for the void. The only light that does exist is a strangely dim white light coming from the ceiling. What looks like a rather ornate shell of a skylight (sans the window to actually reveal, well, a sky), seems to hide said white light somewhere in it. It’s such a vague glow that you can’t pinpoint if it’s coming from a lightbulb or magic.

The rest of the room is just as ornate as the “skylight”, filled with deep oak bookshelves, golden artifacts, and shining decorations that already look like they cost more than your house. It doesn’t really matter the longer you think about it. All of it has to be an illusion… right?

A glass is placed into your hand and you break out of your thoughts to make eye contact with Seokjin. He hovers over you with narrowed eyes and when you look back at your surroundings again, you notice all the little decorations have disappeared. Why had he- “We can negotiate those bits of the deal later if you so wish.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You ask, hesitant to drink the water despite how much the heat of the desert had made you crave it.

“Like I said before, I brought you here to discuss you. I’ve been watching you and lover boy for a while and it has become clear to me that you’ve been pulled along for quite the ride. I’m sure it’s all very daunting.”

“It wouldn’t have been so bad if you hadn’t shown up.”

“How much do you know about our Lord and Savior?”

It was tricky to say the least. You’d grown up on tales of him, an over-powered being of immense stature. No one could come close to him, not even the devil. However, you’d learned bits and pieces from Jungkook, Yoongi, and the others to the point where your ideas of the figure had become skewed. There was no linear understanding of him. You honestly had no idea, “Probably not enough.”

Seokjin huffs, taking a seat from across from you in a chair similar to yours. Crossing a leg over the other, the angel stares you down, “Do you know why I’m after you both?”

“You want to kill Jungkook. Because he committed your sin.”

“Jungkook is my main target, yes, but it wasn’t my sin. My sin was sullying myself with a demon. Jungkook’s sin was sullying you.”

You frown, “He did no such thing! You had a fucking child! Jungkook saved my life!”

“You mean to say he ruined it. You were supposed to be dead a long time ago.”

You’d known that much, Jungkook had told you already. Even if he hadn’t, that had always been the plan. “It was… it was my choice and I wanted it then, I admit it. But I was hurt. I was overwhelmed. I wanted it because I was scared there would be no reason to keep going.”

The angel angles a brow upwards, “And the fallen was that for you? A reason to keep going?”

“It was- it was a lot of things. I was reminded that I existed, and that there are people who can love me the right way,” frustrated at the situation, you glare at him, “what the fuck? Is this some fucking therapy session?”

He has the gall to smile, “God knows you need one. I’d like to be the one to get inside that mind of yours.”

Shit. What if you’d given him just the right information to use against you?

You snap your lips shut and sink back into your chair, bubbling with more dread. He notices your sudden resolve and appears to want to ease your worries, “I’m not doing this to break you. Unlike God, I find you, as a person, quite redeemable. A gentle, pained soul who fell victim to the perversion of her guardian angel. It’s all very sad.”

So God did think you were a lost cause. Jimin had been right after all. However, you don’t want to keep talking when you’re so close to getting the information you’ve been waiting for. It seems even Seokjin isn’t fazed by your silence, continuing on without missing a beat. “You see, usually these angel and human matters can be chalked up to the angel getting too big for their britches. They think they can change things like fate: God’s very flawless plan from the beginning. They are simply�� glitches in the matrix, you could say? That’s where I come in. I make sure these issues are handled and that everything goes back to normal. You see, God loves his humans. Truly. He has a bit of a temper, but it’s justified, you know? He loves you all so very much that seeing you stray from a holy and righteous path is heartbreaking for him. He can only excuse so much.

“So he doesn’t. But… sometimes I help him. I change his mind. Even Jesus had to convince God not to blame his executioners. The big guy gets real impassioned about those he loves. It’s all part of the territory of being in heaven’s sovereignty,” at this, Seokjin shrugs, “you were an unfortunate casualty of it. However, I brought you here because I think that you could be saved. You’re simply confused. I’m sure I could convince God to rethink... his punishment for you.”

Your eyes widen, nearly dropping your glass, “He’d do that?”

The angel nods, pleased, “Of course! After all, he just wants you to repent. If you show that you will, well, I could put in a good word for you. He and I are very close.”

“But only for me.”

Seokjin’s smile dims some. He was so sure he’d had you on the hook just then, “Well… yes. There isn't much I can say about angels. Humans are born sinful, but angels are born knowing better. If they succumb to sin, I cannot do anything about that. But… if you feel that you’d be leaving Jungkook behind, and if that would cause you to feel guilty, I can assure you that that would be taken care of. Your memory of him would be wiped clean and you’d receive another guardian angel in an instant. You’d be granted everything you ever wanted. You’d be able to live out a new path of life contrary to the one your fallen so selfishly carved out for you.”

At this, you begin to frown deeper than you ever have. It’s not out of confusion but deep, deep understanding. Seokjin’s deal was asking you to sell Jungkook out and in return… he’d make you happy. You’d forget all about what had happened and carry on a new person, virtually safe. You could only assume that meant forgetting Yoongi too. Everything you’d accomplished so far would be rearranged until the you that you’d become would be so unfathomable you wouldn’t ever consider it.

What scares you the most is that you actually consider it.

This all could end right now and you’d get out alive, maybe all the ordinary people you knew would get out alive too. You’d be completely removed from the situation. You’d just have to forget Jungkook.

“You asked me how much I know about God,” you start, thumbs twiddling, and Seokjin perks up, “the stories humans told of him always kind of scared me. He’s so powerful… he knew everything before it was even created. Nothing can get past him. And yet, he let humans have free will and the right to choose what their path in life would be. That part always boggled my mind. God’s supposed to love us unconditionally, but if we don’t return the favor, we suffer eternally. It seemed like a pretty big plothole in the otherwise ‘flawless plan’ you claim he made.”

“Yes, well, it’s not God’s fault that Lucifer’s so conniving.”

“But it is. Isn’t it? God created him. Lucifer is the one who brought sin upon the world but God is the one that created him. If he knows everything, why make him in the first place? It’s a fallacy,” Seokjin’s eye twitches just a bit as you lean forward, “that God knows everything. Isn’t it? He wouldn’t be so stupid. He had no fucking clue what he’d made when he made Lucifer.”

“I’d watch your tone. God hears all.” The angel’s ominous reply is all that you need to hear. He doesn’t tell you that anything else you’ve said is false or not. Of course not. You know as well as he does that you’re spot on.

You’re so stunted by the arrogance of it all that you have to laugh, “Allegedly.”

In that same moment, the white light above begins to flicker. A distant rumbling sounds from somewhere and that fear you’d felt earlier comes back with a vengeance. Seokjin looks annoyed, if anything, “I only have so much time to sit here with you to chat.” He stands up and walks over to you, seizing you by the arm, “So I’m telling you now that you still have a chance. No one else has to die. Do me a solid and make that a reality.”

Did he really not want to kill you? He’d had so many chances to. Even now, he could just… what did you have that made him hesitate? “You think I believe that?”

The ground rumbles underneath you and then you fall through, Seokjin’s grip slipping off your arm… or maybe being pried off.

Where you land next isn’t as disorienting as the last few times, but it doesn’t feel any better to be ripped away again without so much as a warning. For a moment before you land, you halt, almost floating. Then your feet make contact with stone and then your knees follow under the sudden press of gravity. A quick look around tells you that Seokjin is nowhere to be seen… and that where you are looks vaguely familiar.

The stone continues up the walls to the ceiling, creating a naturally cold room that expands no more than the size of a restroom (no toilets in sight, however). The furthest edge of the room from you is completely dark, while the other is helped by a fire stretching from one long, narrow wall to the other. There is no wood crackling beneath it though, nor is there an actual controlled area for it to burn. Flames simply lick up the bottom of the wall as if commanded by magic. While the rest of your body feels chilly, the warmth of the fire keeps your head warm like a fever.

You lay crumpled up on your knees and hands, staring into the flames with the most bemused expression, wondering what to do now. You’re definitely not intent on travelling to the other side of the room in fear of being met with something sinister you can’t see, but the fire only illuminates so much of the place and there doesn’t seem to be a door in sight. If Seokjin wasn’t here, you doubted this was a place he wanted to be.

Maybe he was torturing you? Intending to keep you in a dark, scary room in order to break your resolve? You didn’t know the extent of power he was allowed to wield but this whole transportation thing was starting to get really annoying. You chance a meek, “Hello?”

Your voice doesn’t echo like you expect it to. It sounds like it’s right up against your face, like you’d spoken into a pillow, the sound eaten as soon as it came from your mouth. Where the hell were you?

“...not exact, okay?!”

You pick up on a voice to your right and turn over with such speed that you land on your ass. Some stones move on the narrow wall, and then the room is illuminated from an entirely different source of light. It takes you a few moments to gather your bearings as your eyes attempt to adjust. Voices are frantic and coming closer, you can hear that much. You pick up on one instantly, “Jungkook.”

Your voice is weak with relief just as he comes into view. He looks an absolute mess as he throws himself at your feet and wraps you up into a bone-crushing hug. The strength of his hug doesn’t even bother you as you cling back with just as much force, grateful tears beginning to gush out of your eyes. You didn’t realize until then just how terrified you’d been, really. It was always there underneath the surface, but something about Jungkook’s sudden presence makes the reality of it all hit much harder. He smells like your shampoo still.

After a couple of minutes in his embrace, you pull away to examine his face, “Are you okay?”

He laughs and the way his tears have clogged up his throat make it sound more like he’s choking, “Who cares about me? Are you?”

You smile, tucking some of his hair behind his ear, “Better. With you here. Where are we?”

“Limbo, hell’s limbo.”

You’re not sure what to say in response to that. After what you’d been through in the last… however long it’d been, that seems the most plausible to you. “Is that like purgatory?”

“No,” another voice speaks from above you and only then do you realize that Yoongi is here too. He looms over the both of you but his gaze is fixed heavy on your face, “purgatory is where the dead go on their way to heaven. This is where the living come on their way to hell. Was a hell of a ride trying to get your ass down here.”

“Yoongi…” You peel back from Jungkook and stand up, a little wobbly as you lean against the wall, “...thank you. How did you do it? The places Seokjin took me… I felt like we were in a dream.”

His upper lip ticks up in a snarl, “It was. The place where you were is a void, heaven’s version of limbo. It’s where angels bargain with humans on the edge of death to repent. It’s an open playing field for angels to present themselves to their humans without them having to be dead or breaking a rule… not like the latter really applies to Seokjin, though. It’s only as strong as your will to be there,” with that, Yoongi reaches toward you and brushes what feels like sand off your cheek, or perhaps he just meant to touch you to make sure you were really here with the way it lingered, “and that’s the only reason I could pull you out.”

It was a lot to digest. You still couldn’t totally understand how he’d pulled you from heaven’s limbo if he was a demon, but that was beside the point. Right now, you just wanted to get out of this creepy box of a room for good. And it seemed you would be getting your wish.

Another figure became clear to you through the doorway, though this figure looked much more intimidating than the two by your side. Dressed immaculately with a sly smile that felt strikingly familiar, a man makes his way into the room, pressing a hand to his chest and bowing his head to you, “He had my help too, of course. A pleasure to meet you (Name), I’ve heard very little about you.” The man holds out a hand to you and you can feel both Jungkook and Yoongi stiffen on either side of you, but neither makes a move to stop him. This had to be another demon, no doubt.

You take his hand and shake it firmly despite your nerves, “T-Thank you for your help as well. May I ask who you are?”

The man grins wider, “You can call me Lucifer. Are you hungry?”

An entire array of human food is set out before you but you don’t have much of a stomach to touch any of it, though Jungkook seems right at home as he fills up his own plate. You can only guess he’s enjoying the hell out of having so much food at his fingertips without having to pay for it.

You can hear his delighted sound effects from the left of you as you both sit on one side of a long table. Lucifer sits at the head of the table to the right of you, also refraining from really eating anything. Yoongi sits right across from you on the other side with an annoyed expression on his face, fingers tapping the heavy oak table top in a rhythm you can’t decipher. It couldn’t be any more awkward.

“No appetite?” Lucifer asks, pointing to the food. There’s meat and vegetables and cheeses that you know and don’t know but none of it seems particularly appetizing to you at the moment.

You shake your head, “No. Actually, I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”

“Ah, bet you’re bursting.” He chuckles and takes a swig of something you think might be wine. “Go ahead. I’ll try to recap the last couple of days as well as I can.”

“Days?!” You don’t mean to yell, you really don’t (especially not at the king of hell, but-), “It’s been days?”

Jungkook stops chewing to give you a concerned look, “Of course… how long was it for you?”

“Barely… half an hour, maybe more? But not days.”

“Yes, well,” Lucifer sighs, tucking his hands together in front of himself, “time works much differently in heaven and hell than it does here. Especially for those who end up in heavenly limbo. It’s essentially cut off from the rest of the universe which makes it that much harder to track those who end up there. Seokjin was smart in bringing you there than somewhere else on earth.”

Your head is throbbing at this point. If days had gone by, you could only imagine how much had changed since you’d been gone… “So… what has happened since then?”

“Apparently quite a bit, seeing as I was a last resort.” Lucifer’s tone almost sounds irritated. Like a petulant child, he glares over at his son with an unspoken tension that you would like to delve into much, much later when the important things have been moved out of the way. “These boys have been pretty busy trying to get you back. But we are all eager to know what happened while you were with Seokjin.”

Jungkook places a gentle hand on top of your knee under the table. For whatever reason, you note that his grip feels stronger than you’d grown used to. You’d thought the hug was just because he missed you so much, but even this simple touch was- “He… he found me in the dressing room, cornered me there and told me he’d been trying to get me and Jungkook alone. Somewhere he could really do some damage.” You recite all that you readily remembered, some details slipping as you focus on Jungkook’s touch. Yoongi’s eyes never stop boring into you. “He said a lot. He… he said he wanted to give me a second chance.”

Lucifer raises a brow at you, “At…?”

“Life. He said that if I… if I ratted out Jungkook, he’d work things out with God to set my life back on track. Memories wiped, a new guardian angel, the works.” You can feel Jungkook stiffen next to you.

“And did you take him up on it?” Lucifer inquires.

“No! No, I would… I would never. But he was so insistent… It sounded like he really wanted me to say yes. I don’t think he was planning to betray me if I took him up on it either.”

Lucifer heaves a heavy sigh. Folding his hands underneath his chin, the king of hell spares a glance at Jungkook, “He’s got a thing for innocents: those he believes did no actual harm in a situation. He’s always been soft that way. He has more of an affinity for humans than I ever did, but I have more reason to loathe humans than he does, so I guess it’s understandable.”

“He did… mention that none of this was my fault.”

“Of course! You were only following the path life laid out for you. It was the fallen angel you have beside you that decided to shake things up, and aren’t you lucky he did? It doesn’t surprise me one bit that you’re still alive. You’ve done nothing but suffer the consequences, it seems, against your own will.”

“But what about the demon he fell for? Or his child? Weren’t they killed so he could keep his spot in heaven?”

Lucifer leans forward, “I’m assuming your friends haven’t made it known to you yet, but they aren’t dead. They are both very much alive. In fact, the child in question was one of the people that helped in tracking you down. The mother… she is here, in hell, meant to stay imprisoned for all eternity. Or at least until the rapture,” with that, Lucifer drinks again, maintaining eye contact with your shocked stare, “but it was best that no one knew of their whereabouts. Only a handful of people even know that Inhui still exists. It’s become something of a legend amongst the demons and angels, shrouded in confusion. None of the angels would care for the mother, but the child would start an earthly war if they knew one still walked the earth. As far as they’re concerned, the child probably died from the natural complications of being an abomination.”

You frown, “How is that possible? An angel for every human on earth… that’s billions of angels and no one has even noticed the guy?”

“I was wondering about that, actually. He told us that he’d been walking the earth for a while now. Surely someone would have taken notice, right?” Jungkook speaks next, having abandoned his food entirely.

Yoongi snaps out of his bored stance, “Tae’s an anomaly. He’s forgotten everywhere he goes. His impression barely lasts long. Those people he encountered early on considered him a dream, or a hallucination, or a possession of the mind. His actual presence is… hazy. It’s easier to remember him by his name or his number, but everything else is-”

“Intangible.” His father finishes with a flourish. “No ordinary angel or demon could ever put a face to the name, only a feeling. Along with the rather excessive amount of glamours he employs when amongst the public, it is no wonder no one has sounded the alarm. Go ahead and recall his face in your mind, fallen. I’m sure you couldn’t piece it together even if you wanted to.”

Jungkook’s face screws up a little as an attempt, stricken dumb moments later when he can’t utter a thing. Your stomach churns at the thought, soiling your appetite even more.

It seemed like there was more to that story than you were being told, but you imagined that it would be quite a lot to relay to you in more than one sitting. After all, you still had no clue what you’d missed since you’d been gone, and it only hadn’t terrified you senseless because you were at least certain that the biggest threat to everyone’s lives had been right there with you the whole time.

“If you’re not planning to eat anytime soon, is there anything else you’d like to know? It’s not every day a mortal like you gets to talk to Lucifer.” With a small flourishing wave of his hand, Lucifer smiles at you, charming as ever. It was so strange. Yoongi acted nothing like his father, and yet you saw every bit of him in his expression.

You imagined Yoongi felt the need to distance himself as much as he could from his father’s intimidating image and had ended up creating his own in the process. Where Lucifer was inviting, however, Yoongi was… not for everyone. Even as he stares over the table at you, eyes hooded with what appears to be indifference rather than lasciviousness, you can’t help but see the other in him.

“I suppose not,” you murmur, “but now that I have the chance, I don’t really know what to say.”

Lucifer continues to smile, “Don’t fret! I’m sure after the doozy you’ve been in, you’ll need to rest up. You’re more than welcome to stay here until you feel it’s safe to go back topside.”

The thought of treating hell like a hotel to stay in was tickling to say the least. The minute you rise, Jungkook follows suit, nearly knocking his chair over in the process to follow you. “I’d appreciate that. Is there… perhaps a room I could cool down in? Maybe a bathroom?”

Lucifer had deposited both you and Jungkook in a rather nice room, fitted with all the things you’d find in a nice resort room overlooking somewhere like the Bahamas. The dark, brooding colors of Hell follow you even here, and what little light you are allowed in the room comes from fire or mysterious ambience. Still, it’s enough to splash your face with (what you’re definitely sure is) water in the ensuite bathroom.

Jungkook sits at the foot of the bed, watching you, “I missed you.”

Since the moment that the Lord of Hell and his son had left you to your devices, you’d become increasingly aware that something was off about your angel. You had imagined that it had been from the sheer worry he felt over you, but it was starting to feel different from that. Something not so easily explained. If only… if only you could figure it out.

You pat your skin dry and look over at him, measuring him up and down. Appearance wise, he still had the same haircut, same clothes, same shoes. It was the aura that felt different.

Slowly, you approach him from the bathroom and wish that there would be more light in the room to examine him with. In that same moment, what appeared to be a ray of warm light halos above you both, giving you exactly what you had wished for. When Jungkook looks up, he looks… radiant. “I missed you too…” You whisper, reaching out a hand to cup his jaw. At your touch, he shudders, melting into you, and those eyes then laser focus on your own. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” He answers without hesitation, then turns to kiss your inner palm with such a sensual drag of his lips that you grow hot instantly. The surprise makes you yank your hand away and you swear you hear him whine at the missing contact.

“Y-You just look different.” You squeak, holding the aforementioned hand to your chest as if he’d burned you.

Jungkook’s bushy brows furrow. “Do I?”

When Jungkook had been an angel, he’d had a distinct glow about him that set him apart from others. It was cliche, but it made sense then. You knew that you were dealing with someone from another world. When he’d turned human, he’d felt softer, normal. He didn’t glow in any particular way lest the light hit him through the window just right. But now… that glow was back. In a way that didn’t feel familiar.

You reach your hand out again, but this time you let it wander. You push his fringe back from his forehead, then behind his ear, then down his neck to where a sweatshirt hides his collarbones. In a daze, you fall to your knees before his seated frame and push the fabric back some. You find… nothing. You don’t even know what you’re looking for. A vampire bite? What is so different?

Your hand starts to fall mindlessly as you wrack your brain, but it’s all for naught when Jungkook catches hold of it and intertwines his fingers with yours. His grip is warm and solid. But it’s still- “I thought he’d hurt you.”

You look back up into Jungkook’s eyes as he now leans over you with an intense stare. His hair curls around his cheekbones and twists away from his face at the nape, each strand fluttering as he inches closer until the longest ones are touching your face. “Not much. He healed what he did anyway.”

At that, your angel’s eyes narrow in their scan over you, “What did he do?”

You instinctively swallow. Perhaps because you remember the feeling. Perhaps because Jungkook looks like he could kill. “He… he had to get me to limbo. He had to…” You touch the skin of your throat the same moment you break eye contact, feeling the ghost of Seokjin’s fingers there. It wasn’t so long ago that it had happened after all. You could honestly still feel it.

The silence grows until it’s nearly unbearable, you eventually finding that Jungkook will say nothing while you continue to avoid his gaze. Against your better judgement, you chance a look up at him.

You don’t get very long to look. Jungkook takes both sides of your face and lunges forward like a man possessed and you are forced to follow. In your surprise, you stumble back onto your elbows and Jungkook slots himself between your legs, latching onto your lips in a searing kiss. It’s hot and fast and immature, the kiss of a person who has never kissed before and may never get the chance to kiss again. Youngho had never kissed you like this.

A gentle whimper escapes your mouth but Jungkook inhales it into his own. You feel something primal burn inside you when Jungkook growls out, crouching over you now like a predator cornering his prey, and he’s practically consuming you when you start to kiss back. Can you blame yourself? You easily fold into the feeling because it’s Jungkook and goddamn if you hadn’t wanted to kiss him badly before.

His inexperience does very little to dissuade from how good it feels too, and as you start to take over to guide him, he is all too eager to feel your reciprocated passion. The heady feeling he gives you in his sudden attack pushes all thoughts of Seokjin or the last few days out of your mind like a fast-acting asprin. All you can think of now is how tightly coiled you’d been and how Jungkook is loosening you up one press of his lips at a time.

He lays you on your back and you happily oblige, no cushioning found on the hard floor but you couldn’t care less. Jungkook is careful not to be too rough, aware of your needs as much as his own, and it’s jarringly sweet the way he cradles the back of your head to keep you from hitting it on your descent.

When he’s had enough of your lips (as if he could ever), he starts attacking your neck. He’s lapping at your skin and biting away as if he’s trying to remove all traces of Seokjin’s hands… as if he’s replacing the feeling with him and him only. “I’ll kill him,” Jungkook whispers, a foreign fury in his voice that makes your haze disappear in an instant while he continues to work at your neck, “I’ll kill him for ever touching you.”

Your hand shoots to his hair, feeling your heart beat faster from more than just the kisses, “Kook-” But any attempt at sobering up washes away when, to your surprise, he ruts against you. Youngho had never been that good at using his hips like that either. There was something definitely off with Jungkook.

As much as it pains you, you grab at his hair and yank back, ignoring (or trying to) the filthy groan that he gives in response before peeling away from your skin. You gasp for breath, absolutely winded, “What is going on?”

Jungkook pants past wet lips, “What do you mean-”

“Did Yoongi do this to you?” The sudden heated moment is over when you say that.

Jungkook’s blood has run cold. You have a very strong, haunting feeling that your mounting suspicions have proven correct. His eyes… as gentle as they always were when they looked at you, told you everything. He was not the same Jungkook you’d come to know. Something had happened to him. Something irreversible. You touch his face again and this time Jungkook does not move to embrace it. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. “Why?”

In an attempt to escape your pitiful gaze, Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, cutting you off from seeing him vulnerable any longer. It breaks your heart the longer he stays silent. There’s no denying it now.

A tear of his touches the palm of your hand instead of his lips this time, “How else could I protect you?” He chokes, weak, “I’m not your angel anymore. I can’t be like you. This is the only way... the only way I could stand to look you in the eyes again.”

[mdotmaro]

Winging It.

Chapter 2

Author's Note: I am so ecstatic at the reviews you all have left. I appreciate every kind word and am only mildly afraid of constructive criticisms :). I am going to continue this story along with a vague idea of what happens next. Confession time: I see much of my own relationship with Casey and Derek. No, not step-siblings, just their connection. The club scene with the drunken dancing and then kissing… yeah, that actually happened to us. Extra fun fact is that I was his boss at the time :P ANYWAY! Onto the main event.

"So, the glory of the stage wasn't all that in the end?" Lizzy assumed as she carefully packed Casey's dishware into the appropriately labeled boxes. Marti was on bathroom duty, and Nora was working on linens while Casey was backing her clothes and shoes. Casey's announcement to leave New York and go back to school for business with a minor in dance was warmly welcomed. Nora admitted that she was selfishly glad that Casey would only be a few hours away by car instead of a plane ride away. Marti was more curious about what happened. The now ten-year-old went through Casey's bathroom with precision to see if there was any clue her step-sister was hiding.

"Did Jessie do something stupid?" Marti asked from her perch on the bathtub. Casey gave a short laugh.

"No, he didn't. Even if he did, it doesn't matter. We broke up months ago. He was just a summer romance." Casey said with a reassuring smile. Marti narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced. Casey desperately wanted to change the subject, so she moved to Lizzie, who was tapping up the last kitchen box.

"So, speaking of summer romances. Have you heard from Oscar, Lizzie?" Casey asked abruptly; Lizzie slipped and cut off a much longer piece of tape than was needed. She glared at her older sister, who mouthed 'sorry' to the now blushing teen. Lizzie cleared her throat.

"Oscar lives in Parkhill, and we have a date over at the skatepark over there. He is going to teach me to skateboard." Lizzie said and quickly picked up the box and scurried off downstairs to the car. Marti came out of the bathroom with her box and a confused expression.

"But Lizzie already knows how to skateboard. She taught Edwin and me," Marti said, and Nora giggled and took Marti in a light hug.

"Yes, but Oscar doesn't know that," Nora said with a smile, and Marti shrugged, still not understanding but not invested enough to keep asking. Casey, Nora, and Marti went downstairs for the last time and finished packing the moving truck. Casey would fly back with the girls, and after a weekend at home, she would go to Queens to start the Summer semester.

Normally Casey loved falling asleep on long flights, but her heart was beating too fast for her to relax. Derek had left New York from his short trip to see Casey two weeks ago, and they were still 'Winging it,' so to speak. They talked nearly every night, more or less the usual banter and teasing, but there was something else there. It was impossible to tell how the family would react to the eldest step-siblings 'winging it,' so they had both agreed not to say anything until they were sure. Casey was relieved she could convince Nora and George that she could live by herself in a dorm instead of in an apartment with Derek. They were afraid of her being alone, but she quickly reminded them that she had lived alone in another country for six months and did just fine.

Besides, the idea of them living together so soon after they...they kissed. Casey absentmindedly touched her lips in the memory of those hot at heavy sessions at the club and in her room. She unconsciously clenched her thighs together. They didn't move past the over clothing caresses and kissing. Casey had tried having sex with Jessie, and by tried, she means tried to go for longer than a few seconds because it was just too painful. Jessie wouldn't pressure her to go any further than she was willing, but coincidentally after the third time they tried having sex with no success, Jessie came over to say things were not working out.

Casey had been relieved, but now what? Derek, Casey imagined, had a lucrative sex life in university, and now that they were... whatever they were. How could she tell him that sex was so painful for her?

"Casey. Your cuticles are bleeding." Lizzie said, snapping Casey out of her intense thoughts. She had been peeling the excess skin at her cuticle, and sure enough, little garnet bubbles of blood had appeared around her nails. Casey quickly wrapped her especially mutilated middle finger in a napkin and applied pressure.

"What's wrong?" Lizzie asked and then peered over to the aisle across from them where Marti and Nora seemed to be sound asleep. "It's just me. You can tell me, and then it could make up for totally throwing me under the bus earlier." Lizzie teased and poked at Casey's side. Casey gave her little sister a guilty smile.

"Sorry again about that," Casey sighed and contemplated telling Lizzie everything. Her little sister was extremely mature for her age, but she adored Derek like a blood brother, and Casey knew that this would be jarring even if Lizzie acted supportively. Casey decided on half-truths.

"I am nervous about having sex," Casey whispered, and Lizzie furrowed her brows.

"But you and Jessie never?" Lizzie asked, and Casey let out a heavy sigh.

"We tried, but it was just too painful," Casey admitted, and then Lizzie shook her head.

"From what I have researched, sex is not supposed to hurt. You are not really even supposed to bleed because of your 'broken hymen.' If it hurts that much, he is doing it wrong." Lizzie explained, and Casey couldn't help but smile at her sister. Of course, she researched sex. A quick flush of panic ran through Casey, and she looked at her baby, 14-year-old sister. Had she already had sex? Lizzie laughed at her expression.

"Relax, I haven't had sex yet. Not really interested yet, but I have plenty of condoms when I am ready, and I will make sure I have mom or George take me to get the pill. Casey stared at Lizzie, quite impressed.

"Have you told Nora and George about your well-calculated plan? And where did you get condoms?" Casey was trying to keep her volume down not to alert the other plane passengers. Lizzie shrugged.

"George kept having to leave the conversation to go outside and get some air, but mom was glad I am being responsible, and I got the condoms from Edwin," Lizzie explained. Casey had a brief moment to imagine sweet George trying to compose himself at the idea of his stepdaughter having sex. Casey was sure that he would need therapy after Marti hit puberty.

"And where did Edwin get condoms?" Casey asked incredulously and then realized at the same that Lizzie said

"Derek," they both said in unison. Maybe it was naive, but Casey, the thought of her little siblings being open to the idea of having sex made her queasy. Casey's finger stopped bleeding, and she tucked the bloody napkin into her now empty bag of pretzels.

"Don't worry, things will happen naturally, and now if you want to bail, you can use Derek as an excuse," Lizzie tried to reassure. Unfortunately, her timing was awful, and Casey choked on her water that she had been drinking. Lizzie smacked her back hard, and a few curious passengers turned to check on the commotion. Casey finally regained the ability to breathe and nervously laughed at Lizzie.

"And what would Derek do?" She asked, trying not to sound shrill. Lizzie smiled at her sister.

"Oh well, he can play the role of overly protective brother," Lizzie said but then tilted her head in thought. "I mean, he wouldn't do it for free" She laughed. Casey gave Lizzie a small smile and let out a deep breath, and continued to look out the window. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself. She and Derek hadn't even been on an official date yet. Sure they had gone to eat in the city and run around central park and even went to an amusement park but had those counted as dates? I mean, they held hands through the corn maze, but Derek insisted it was because he didn't feel like chasing after her when she inevitably got lost.

Casey smiled at the memories. Something else that made her chest flutter was waking up next to Derek. She missed being held while she fell asleep, but it's not like they could do that right away at university. There were rules. Weren't there?

Edwin had just passed his driver's license and was glad to volunteer to pick them up at the airport. He had seemed to have grown several centimeters in the six months Casey had been away and now was slightly taller than her.

"Edwin, look at you!" Casey said as she attacked him in a bear hug. Edwin grinned and twirled so she could see his new and improved preppy wardrobe too. His jeans seemed uncomfortably tight, and his polo was maybe a bit snug, but his face was losing its baby softness, and he had a ghost of a mustache on his upper lip.

"I know, your little brother Edwino is all grown up and looking cool," He said, and Casey couldn't help pinching his cheek.

"Aww, you are so cute." She said, and he shrugged off her pinching.

"Casey, cute isn't cool. I am a man now." Edwin protested. Marti laughed as she passed her brother.

"Really, you're a man now. Why didn't we get the memo." She snickered, and Lizzie laughed as she went into the backseat to join Marti. Nora squeezed Edwin's shoulder reassuringly.

"Aw, don't listen to them, Edwin. We know you are a man, and speaking of which, we can start talking about when you can pay for your car insurance," Nora said, and Edwin gulped. Casey road in the back with the girls and Nora road shotgun. They were all talking animatedly, talking about school, Simon, and generally anything in the neighborhood. Casey was excited to see Emily. They had coordinated to see each other the next evening. Casey was hoping to talk to Emily about her and Derek, just to be able to talk to someone for advice. Emily and Derek broke up a week after graduation; things just seemed a bit forced. After having a crush on someone for so long, it was hard not to be crushed by the heavy expectation of a perfect ending. Emily actually was discovering a newer side of her sexuality and actually had a steady girlfriend, Ruby.

The house came into view, and before she could get swept up in the nostalgia, her heart dropped to her toes at the sight of the prince in the driveway.

"Wait. Why is Derek here? He isn't supposed to pick me up until Sunday?" Casey asked in a loud and almost shrill voice. Nora sighed.

"He was able to come down for the weekend. Isn't this great, Casey? The whole family gets to spend time together before you both go off to University. So, try to be civil, please." Nora pleased, and Casey sighed and nodded to her mother. George came out with a crying Simon. Casey had been right on her assumption that he had doubled in size. Poor George looked exhausted but smiled at his eldest step-daughter warmly nonetheless.

"Casey, it's great to see you," He said, and Casey hugged him and reached for Simon. The baby was pink-cheeked and bundled in a light green onesie. Casey started cooing at little Simon and rocking him lightly.

"Careful, he just projectile vomited on Derek," George warned after he kissed Nora. Casey chuckled.

"Knowing Derek, he probably deserved it," Casey said with the same cooing voice. She was surprised at how quickly the jeer came to her. Old habits, she guessed.

"Well, he is taking a shower now, so you'll have some time to get settled before you two go at each other's throats," George said and took her dance bag from her shoulder. Casey thanked him and went to sit on the couch.

"Oh hey, Casey, I hope you don't mind. We had to do a little room rearrangement with both you and Derek gone. We moved Edwin into Derek's room and Simon into his old room, and yours into a guest bedroom, so If you don't mind sharing the space with Derek's things. While you're here." Nora said and then clarified after seeing Casey's wide eyes. "Just his things; he will be taking the couch at night." Casey might have a nervous breakdown before the end of the weekend.

Simon started reaching out his tiny pale fists towards Nora, who happily collected her baby. Lizzie dragged Casey up to show her how she redecorated her room, and such was the process for the other two Venturi children. Casey retreated into her old room, now a guest bedroom, and exhaled against the door. She assessed the room. Gone were her ballet trophies and academic achievement awards. Now there was a pale yellow walled, neutral sandalwood furnished and fluffy white carpeted room. Derek's battered duffle bag was on the cream-covered bed. Casey swallowed thickly and thought back to her conversation on the plane with Lizzie. Derek had given condoms to Edwin. Did he pack any for this weekend? Was he expecting something to happen in their parents' home? She had only just begun to unzip the bag when a voice came up behind her.

"Snooping, Case?" Casey shuddered at Derek's warm breath on the back of her neck. Casey jumped and reflexively swung a pillow at Derek.

"Der-rek, you scared me." She shouted and then took an extra step back when she realized that he was shirtless and slightly damp from the shower. Derek had always been lean, but there was a new indent of muscles, especially at the v of his hips from piling more hours at the rink in university, and Casey forced her eyes to stay now lower than his collar bones.

"Yeah, but you were still snooping. What's up Casey, you seem a bit flushed?" He said with a level of sarcastic concern; he couldn't keep the mischief out of his dark eyes. Casey kept her chin held high.

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't bring anything inappropriate that the kids could find, like how you gave Edwin condoms. He is fifteen, Derek," She said hotly. Derek caught on to her real question.

"Well, he's at that age where it's better to be safe than sorry, and though he is not as in with the ladies as I was, it's part of being a big brother," He said and took another step towards her. Casey was already leaning against the nightstand. There was no. Further, she could retreat to. "But don't worry, I wasn't expecting anything this weekend," He reassured and then smirked. "And in our parents' home no less, for shame, Macdonald." He teased and cupped her chin once she let out a relieved exhale.

"Oh, shut up. I just wanted to make sure you didn't have any ill intentions." She said but leaned into his touch nonetheless. She quickly glanced at the door. Thankfully she had thought to lock it. Derek followed her gaze, and with the minor level of privacy, he leaned down and kissed her pouty lips. Casey sank into the kiss; his wet curls brushed her forehead and ran her cool fingers down the side of his face. Derek's hands roamed up and down her sides, occasionally dropping to squeeze her outer thighs. The feeling made Casey release a shuddering gasp. Derek moved both hands to her face and kissed her firmly before breaking away.

"Think you can hold off with just that for now, Case?" He asked, a bit breathless. Casey looked up into his eyes and saw the restraint he was using, so she offered a small smile and let the tips of her fingers whisper down his torso and then stop at his jeans' waistband. Derek bit back a grunt.

"Sure thing, Der," Casey said and turned to head downstairs. When she didn't hear his footsteps trailing her, she saw him with his back facing her and his hands resting on his hips. "You coming?" She asked

"Mhmm, Just give me a minute," He said, and Casey bit back her giggle. Derek let out a breath.

"Oh, don't worry, Princess. I'll pay you back."

Next day

"I'm sorry, run that by me again. You and Derek?" Emily asked for the third time. They were at Smelly Nelly's, and Casey was picking at her salad.

"Sorta. It's just something that happened all of a sudden when he came down to New York. Now I just keep getting all flustered around him and even the thought of him." Casey explained and then gave up on her salad altogether with a groan and holding her head in her hands. "Pathetic, huh."

"Well..." In a high-pitched voice, Emily caused Casey's head to look up and give her best friend a desperate look.

"Emily! I am in a delicate state right now." She complained, and Emily giggled at her friend's antics. Same old Casey.

"Casey, I am your best friend, and so it is my solemn sworn duty to inform you that this is not all of a sudden," Emily indicated with outstretched hands. "You two have had this intense chemistry that you both were too stubborn and thankfully young to understand. I had my suspicions, but I didn't want to jump the gun before you told me and inadvertently caused you to blow it out of proportion." Emily explained and then took a sip of her mint tea. Casey was in open-mouthed shock.

"I don't blow things out of proportion." Casey protested. Emily pursed her lips into a knowing smile. Casey waved it off.

"I mean, this is wrong, right? He is my stepbrother; we've known each other since we were fifteen," Casey whispered. Emily sighed.

"It's not conventional, that's for sure, but as you said, you were fifteen when you met. You didn't necessarily grow up together like Edwin, Lizzie, and Marti have. Have you guys talked about it?" Emily asked. Casey nodded.

"We have; since we don't really know where this will lead, we didn't want to get everyone at home involved, especially the kids," Casey explained, and Emily nodded in agreement and then reached out to hold Casey's hand.

"Casey MacDonald, you are stuck in your very own version of 'Clueless.'" She teased; Casey couldn't help but laugh at that. She conjured up her best Cher impression.

"As if! Derek wishes he were Pual Rudd."

The weekend hadn't been such agony to get through as Casey had predicted. Thankfully with so many people in the house, it was easy to slip a gaze or two, and hand grazes without being noticed. All things carried on well until Sunday breakfast.

"Okay, Derek, now that Casey is going to school with you, be sure to look after her," George said before shoveling down some eggs. Derek was across from Casey at the table and gave a nonchalant shrug.

"I'm pretty sure Casey can take care of herself." He said through a mouthful of bacon.

"For once, you're right, Derek," Casey said with as much bite she could muster. "I will be fine, George, and I didn't need Derek to save me in New York. I don't need him to save me in Queens." She said proudly and continued to eat her avocado toast.

"I didn't know you went to see Casey in New York, Derek," George said, and Casey almost choked. Derek gave Casey a leveled look that read, 'Way to go, Space Case.'

"I take it back; Casey needs all the help she can get. She called whining about everyone being so mean to her, so I took pity and flew in." Derek said a nudged Edwin. "The theater girls were hoooot," and the brothers shared a chuckle. Lizzie made a disgusted sound, and Casey tried to keep the burning blush from rising from her chest.

"I should have let them rip you apart." She snapped. Derek rolled his eyes.

"Please, unlike you. I can handle a few catty girls." He said, and Casey chucked an apple at his head, he easily ducked, but Marti wasn't so lucky.

"Oww, Casey!" She shouted.

"Oh, I am so sorry, Marti." She said, and her stepsister grumbled by something along the lines of 'quit flirting.' Only Derek was close enough to hear, and he froze.

"What was that, Smarti?" He said, and she looked up at her brother, and her dark blue eyes said that she knew far more than they were letting on. Derek frowned at her; when did Marti start rebelling against Derek? Mari batted her lashes at him and smiled.

"Oh nothing, Smirk. I am just going to miss you and Casey when you go away." She said and threw her arms around Derek's neck and whispered so low that only he could hear. "I know."

[lyssismagical]

8 and 59 iron dad?

“Do you hate me?” & “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” 

(This one kinda got away from me idk how it happened but this ended up being 3k lmao) 

Tony was grieving. That’s all it was.

Peter repeated it to himself over and over again, all day everyday, to convince himself it wasn’t actually his fault that Tony kept lashing out at him.

It wasn’t easy to feel like an intruder in what was meant to be his home, but it wasn’t Tony’s fault. He was grieving, that was all.

It had been four months since Pepper died doing the snap to win that battle.

Tony was grieving the loss of his wife. His best friend. The mother of his child. The one who’s stood by his side for decades.

The lashing out, the anger, the cold shoulder, it was fair. Tony was grieving.

If Peter felt hurt by any of it, he refused to show it. He would hold his chin high and meet every emotion with meek apologies and offerings of anything he could think of.

Peter had been living in the cabin for all four months, taking care of Morgan by himself while her dad was more or less MIA, in the throes of guilt and grief and anguish. Happy and May were grieving in the city, picking up her life. Rhodey was busy with work, helping rebuild the broken world.

It was down to Peter to take care of the five-year-old and her grieving father.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t taking it’s toll on him.

He hadn’t slept well for as long as he could remember. He was trying to catch up in the missing five years, dealing with the nightmares and the obvious signs of PTSD after back-to-back wars he fought in, not to mention trying to stay on top of his school work at Midtown without actually going to school, and trying to keep tabs on everyone he cares about without them worrying about him.

It wasn’t easy work, that alone. But he’s also being a parent by himself.

It’s tiring. He’s a kid too, but he has to continue growing up too fast for everyone around him.

“Petey okay?” Morgan asks, crawling onto the couch next to him.

He blinks back the sleep that tries to take over his vision and forces himself up into a sitting position. “Yeah, I’m good, Momo, just a little tired. You want breakfast?”

“Pancakes!” she exclaims, hopping up onto her feet again. “With chocolate chips! And juice pops!”

Peter smiles and drags himself to his feet again. He slept for maybe an hour, trying to finish his reading for English along with all the projects he has to complete before midterms.

He gets Morgan situated at the table with a coloring book while he makes a batch of pancakes for them, setting aside a few for Tony.

“I’ll be right back down, alright?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Eat up and then go get dressed, alright? I’ve gotta drive you to the city in a few hours for your appointment with Miss Sarah.”

Thankfully, he got his driver’s license before the snap, so he can take her to her therapy sessions in the city three times a week, along with play dates, birthday parties, grocery shopping, and everything else Peter has to remember.

Morgan obediently shoves another piece of pancake in her mouth and grins up at him.

Tony’s room is dim, only the warm lamp light filling the room.

“I brought you breakfast and a coffee,” Peter murmurs, settling them down on the nightstand. Some days, Tony’s better at pretending for Morgan’s sake at being okay. Today’s not one of those days.

He opens the thick curtains and pushes the window open, letting in some spring air, before cautiously touching Tony’s shoulder. He’s awake but unresponsive.

“Mister Stark?” Peter tries. He grabs the coffee off the nightstand and offers it out to Tony.

But his foot catches on the edge of the bed and the coffee spills over the white sheets.

The reaction is instant.

“Fucking hell, Parker!” Tony shouts, shoving the sheets off his legs to avoid burning his skin. “Had to go fuck this up too?”

“Mister Stark, I was just- I was just trying to help,” Peter says, caving into himself as he tries to clean up the coffee with his own sweater sleeves. It burns at his skin, but he doesn’t stop, movements panicky and shaking.

Tony shoves at his hands, getting to his feet. “Haven’t you done enough?”

Peter would’ve preferred it to be screamed at him, to be grabbed and shaken, to be punched. But it’s said quietly, cold, and something breaks in his chest.

“I was just trying to help. I’m sorry,” Peter repeats, blinking back tears. “It was an accident.”

“An accident? A fucking accident?”

Tony looks angrier than Peter had ever seen him. Angrier than the day of the ferry. Angrier than when he found out about the warehouse. Angrier than the day of Pepper’s funeral when he threw a fit.

“I’m sorry, Mister Stark.” It seems to be the only thing computing in his brain, anger slowly simmering because he doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve to be shouted at after all the work he’s constantly putting into the family, after taking over all of Tony’s responsibilities.

“Stop fucking apologizing!” Tony shouts, throwing his hands up in anger. “Stop fucking things up! Stop being a fucking nuisance! I don’t need you to bring me coffee and breakfast like I’m- like I’m a damsel in distress!”

Peter goes to snap at him, opens his mouth to shout that if Peter weren’t here, Morgan would be all by herself. That if he stopped being a ‘nuisance’, Tony would’ve starved to death and Morgan would’ve been alone because Tony isn’t being much of a role model right now.

But a quiet, “Petey?” stops him from going farther than opening his mouth.

“It’s okay, Momo, you wanna meet me at the car? I just gotta finish this up, alright? And then I’ll go take you to see Miss Sarah.”

“Daddy?” Morgan tries again, searching their faces for help, for some sort of clue for what to do.

But Tony doesn’t say anything. Just stands there, chest heaving for breath and tears burning at his eyes. So Peter takes the responsibility, like he always does.

“He’s okay, Mo, just sick, ‘member?” Peter says. “Go put on your shoes, okay? Meet me out at the car. You can choose which ones you want to wear.”

This seems to catch her attention because Peter hasn’t let her wear her sparkly new light-up shoes because of all the spring mud. She takes off from the doorway, disappearing from their views.

“Peter, I- I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“I’m going to take Morgan to the city,” Peter interrupts, trying his best to blink back tears. “She has an appointment with her therapist and it’s grocery day, so…”

It’s not Tony’s fault, Peter repeats in his head, he’s just grieving.

But there’s only so many times you can play the grief card, especially as an adult. There’s only so much Tony can do before it becomes inexcusable.

“Kid-”

“I’m seventeen,” Peter says, too much anger and venom filling his voice because Tony hadn’t been there for Peter’s seventeenth birthday after they got back from the Snap in late July. Tony hadn’t left this bed that day. Morgan didn’t know it was his birthday, nobody could take care of her, so Peter spent his birthday doting on Morgan like he was her parent, like always.

Tony flinches, sitting on the edge of his bed and cradling his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry, kid, I know I’ve been… I’ve been awful, I just-”

“It’s hard, I know,” Peter says, trying so hard to keep the bitterness from his voice. “I know what grief is like.”

Eyes wild and upset, Tony looks up from his hands, something too similar to the anger from before burning in his expression.

“You didn’t lose everything!” Tony says. “She was- Pep was my everything.”

It’s not his fault, Peter repeats like a mantra. It’s not his fault he thinks his grief is the end of the world, like the worst thing to have ever happened, grief has its ways of working like that.

“Well you have a daughter who lost her mom and now she’s lost her dad too because you won’t even show your face!” It’s a low blow and he hates himself for it, but he’s so sick and tired of carrying everything by himself. “She’s got me right now, and that’s it. All she’s got is a nuisance who can’t stop fucking up.”

The words to their job though. The anger from Tony’s face disappears like it was never there in the first place.

“Peter-”

“I think it would be better if I took Morgan and we stayed at May’s for the night,” Peter says. He has to be the adult.

He doesn’t want to leave Tony. Grieving alone. But he’s not going to let Morgan stay in a house that could be dangerous. Not that he doesn’t trust Tony, but he doesn’t want Morgan to be yelled at for any mistakes, not like he was.

And this is the breaking point for Peter. He’s spent months doing everything in his power to make sure Morgan and Tony are okay, but Tony hasn’t made any efforts to meet him halfway. All he’s done is throw anger and give the cold shoulder.

Peter knows what grief does to people. He’s seen it firsthand. When May lost Ben, the same scenario as Tony losing Pepper, May took care of Peter. She made sure that Peter was okay, and she got them both therapists and she met everything headstrong and chin held high. She grieved but she never made Peter feel like he wasn’t important, she never made Peter feel like a nuisance.

“Kid-”

Peter shakes his head, steels himself, and heads out of the cabin, refusing to look back.

*Peter waits in his car during Morgan’s session with Miss Sarah and cries.

And he knows he looks like a mess when he goes in to pick her up ninety minutes later.

Miss Sarah sees it immediately and she ducks her head to look at him properly, worry creasing her face.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

On one hand, the last thing he needs is to be scrutinized by a therapist, but on the other hand, she’s the first adult who’s sounded like they genuinely cared about his well being since the snap’s reversal.

Just that alone makes him want to break down.

“I’m okay, yeah. Just a rough morning, I guess,” he murmurs, trying to get a hold of himself. “Is Morgan doing alright?”

“She’s making stellar progress, Peter, but I’m worried about you and about Tony. From what Morgan tells me, you’re under a lot of stress.”

Peter shrugs, trying to look nonchalant as he looks over Sarah’s shoulder into her office where Morgan’s finishing up a coloring. “Tony’s dealing with a lot right now, so I’m stepping in as a caretaker, I guess. It just takes its toll.”

“You know it’s not your responsibility to take care of her, right? You’re not the adult,” she says. “You’re shaking, honey, do you want to sit down?”

He shoves his trembling hands into his hoodie pockets. “We should really be going. We’ll see you Sunday?”

“Of course,” Sarah replies, looking back at Morgan. “You know, I can always talk to you as well. I’ve always got room in my schedule for you, Peter.”

And Peter nods like he’d really accept the offer.

Instead, he takes Morgan’s hand, leads her out to the car and takes off to May’s apartment, refusing to let the tears bubble over.

They do, as they always do, you can’t stop tears forever.

Luckily, the tears wait until Morgan’s tucked into Happy’s arms and May’s got her arms around Peter.

And he breaks.

His head falls onto her shoulder and her arms wrap around his waist, soft shushing noises escaping her mouth as she looks over at Happy for help.

“Tony, he- I just- May, I can’t- I can’t do it anymore,” he cries. When the words start, they never seem to stop. “I fucked up and he yelled at me. He told me- He told me I was being a nuisance, that I shouldn’t be there anymore. He- I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t leave Morgan.”

“C’mon, kiddo, let’s go play in Petey’s room, okay?” He hears Happy say, leading Morgan out of the foyer.

Peter can’t stop shaking, can’t stop crying, can’t stop sinking under the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t sleep and I can’t eat and I’m so tired, May. I’m so tired. Please, I can’t-”

“This never should’ve been put on you, kid,” May says, voice soft and gentle. She steadies him and leads him to the couch, letting him curl into her side. “It’s not your job to be the adult, to be Morgan’s parent. That’s not on you.”

“I just wanted to help,” Peter says, feeling pathetic and messy, like his whole being has been torn to pieces and strung across the world.

May nods, tipping her head down to look at him properly. “Get some rest, baby. We’ll take care of Morgan and I’ll call Tony, okay? He’s going to come through.”

Peter sobs, hiding his face in shame. “I can’t, May, I can’t sleep. I always have nightmares of- of Titan or the war or- I just- Please, I can’t sleep-”

“Peter, honey, I know you’ve gotten used to doing this alone, but I’m here now. If you have nightmares, I’ll be here to help.”

And that’s what he needed.

He needed an adult to tell him it would be okay. To hold him close and tell him that he didn’t have to do it all on his own. And May was there, she always was.

“Rest, honey. It’ll all be better soon, I promise.”

It had been weeks since he’d gotten good rest, always up at dawn for Morgan and always awake until the early hours of morning for Tony or schoolwork. His eyes closed on their own accord, slipping shut as May pulled a blanket around his shoulders.

And he believed her. He trusted her. He was still just a kid and when an adult says it’ll be okay, it has to be, right?

*He wakes crying, hands fumbling in the air to fight an invisible threat, but his hands are caught in the air.

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re alright, take a breath.”

And that certainly wasn’t May’s voice or even Happy’s.

“Tony?” Peter asks, voice breaking as the tears refused to slow.

“I’m here, kiddo, I- I’m sorry. I couldn’t possibly be more sorry than I am now. I really messed up and I’m going to fix it, alright?”

The living room is still bright, thankfully. Peter doesn’t know if he told anybody about his fear of the dark ever since he was dusted, but he’s glad he doesn’t have to spill those secrets now.

“I can’t do it anymore,” Peter admits through his tears, sniffling miserably as he pins Tony’s hand between Peter’s cheek and the cushion, closing his eyes. “I can’t do it.”

But Tony nods. He doesn’t get angry or upset or even push Peter away. “I know, kiddo, I’m sorry you had to do it in the first place. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I’m going to get better, okay? I’m going to fix this now. Sarah is setting me up with my own therapist and I’m going to start being a better parent, okay?”

“I’m sorry too,” Peter says. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I shouldn’t have taken your kid and left you. I should’ve kept going, been stronger, I just- I couldn’t-”

The silence that follows scares Peter more than he’d like to admit, blinking his eyes open as more tears spill down his cheeks and his trembling hands grab onto Tony’s sleeve.

“Please don’t- I can’t- Are you mad at me? Do you hate me? I shouldn’t have- I was trying so hard and I still wasn’t good enough-”

Tony’s thumb runs over Peter’s cheekbone, gently brushing away the tears. “I could never hate you, kiddo. You were so strong, so much stronger than I could’ve ever been, even if you shouldn’t’ve had to be. If anything, you should be mad at me, not viceversa. I saw the things you were doing for Morgan-”

“It was nothing.”

“You drove an hour into the city three times a week for her therapy. You did all the groceries, the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, everything. Morgan even told me about her birthday party that you planned for her. You worked nonstop and all I did was be an ass to you. You had sticky notes all over your walls to remind you of the things you were doing like fucking dance lessons with Morgan. You went to mom-and-daughter dance lessons with Morgan every weekend. Don’t tell me that’s not nothing.”

“You should see our routine,” Peter says, laughing wetly. “I wear a bright pink tutu and everything.”

Tony offers a gentle smile. “You’re my kid too, Pete, not Morgan’s parent. You should be in high school with Ted and the scary girl, going out as Spider-Man, dealing with all the trauma you’ve thrown on the backburner, not taking care of the things I should’ve been doing.”

“You’re going to get better?” Peter asks, throat tightening.

“Yeah, kiddo. I think you and Morgan will stay here for a little bit while I work on getting myself in a better headspace, but May and Happy are going to be your parents, not you. And when I get better, I’m going to take over, alright? You can relax now.”

Peter hesitantly shuffles over on the couch, making space for Tony next to him with a tentative smile.

And Tony doesn’t hesitate to curl up beside Peter and hold his kid close. “Thank you for everything you did for me and Morgan, kid.”

“It’s what Pepper would’ve done.”

“I love you, you know that? And so did she, even if she was worse at admitting it than I was. She was the one who bought the matching Big Brother/Little Sister t-shirts for you two. She wanted you apart of the family as much as I did.”

“I love you too, Tony.”

This is compromise. This is Tony meeting Peter halfway. This is the first step in the right direction. And Peter believes the promises that everything will be okay. He wouldn’t trade the past few months for the world. He loves Morgan and Tony too much for that.

[floatingpetals]

Boys in Blue || Pt. 11

Pairings: cop!Stucky x F!Reader

Warnings: Steve’s a little cheeky, and then all the fluff, no joke, tooth rooting fluff

Word Count: 3500+

Summary: (Cop AU) There was just one crappy thing after enough that happened to her. It possibly couldn’t get any worse, or so she thought until she saw the dreaded flashes of red and blue behind her. Could things get any worse?

A/N: I have NOT forgotten about this wonderful story. I hope you all haven’t either lol. This part is completely fluffy like I said in the warning. Because it is a warning. I just want you all to know that you might die for cuteness overload. So yeah. Fair warning. I hope you all enjoy it and let me know what you think! 

The gifs are not mine, credit to the owner.

Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Series Masterlist

Y/N grumbled under her breath, hitting the breaks as she yet again caught another red light. She let her head fall back against the headrest and let out a heavy sigh. She was so close to being home. It was her day off and she was supposed to be relaxing. But no. Instead, she’d been running errands all day and didn’t get one second to take a breather. She was exhausted and just want to kick her shoes off. Literally.

Robert, Maddie’s oldest, was turning four this weekend and Maddie was at her wit's end. Lexi had learned how to walk recently, although Y/N would never admit to her friend that the ‘first time’ Maddie saw her daughter walk it technically wasn’t the first time. While it was a huge milestone for Lexi, it meant Maddie’s little girl was getting into anything and everything she could, basically a walking tornado. 

Throw in the fact that Robert now thought he was a big boy who didn’t need to listen to his mother since he was turning four and with Jason being gone to work most of the time, Maddie needed an extra set of hands getting the party-ready. Of course, in a very Maddie fashion, she let some of the slightly more important details wait until the last minute. Such as the cake, decorations, and food. Not willing to let not only her best friend down, nor her godson, Y/N stepped in to help. She didn’t mind, Y/N would do anything for her best friend, but even she had a limit.

Only one thing turned into two, that turned into three and now it was six o’clock in the evening and Y/N was ready to pass out. She had already dropped off everything to Maddie’s house, who was incredibly appreciative and swore up and down she’d pay her back somehow. Now Y/N was on her way home to slip out of her jeans and into her comfy sweats.

During all the excitement, she didn’t have much of a chance to speak with either Bucky or Steve. Not that it mattered much, both had work and needed their focus on their jobs. She would send them texts every once in a while, and would occasionally get a response back, but they all had been rather busy today themselves. At one point, Steve jokingly mentioned the full moon was the reason for so many idiots running around today keeping them on their toes. She knew they’d call her once they got off like they always did, so Y/N didn’t think too much of it at the time.

She was almost home, sitting at the red light right down the street from her apartment. Mentally checked out and on autopilot, Y/N slowly put her foot to the pedal when the light turned green. She hadn’t seen the car that pulled up behind her, a familiar black and white dodge she knew well. But she did notice when the car flicked it’s light on, that wonderful dreaded red and blue. Y/N jumped when the sirens went off with the lights, her heart hammering in her chest.

Muttering an oath under her breath, Y/N turned into a gas station parking lot. It was like Deja vu all over again. Once again, Y/N had no idea what she could have done, but today she was too exhausted to even get slightly worked up about it. She let out an irritated groan, her eyes closing shut for a moment and let her head fall back against the headrest. She just wanted to go to bed.

The rhythmic tap on her window pulled her out of her thoughts. She let out a heavy sigh and reached to roll down the window, not once sparing a glance at the officer. She was already reaching for her purse beside her on the passenger seat when the officer spoke.

“License and registration ma’am.”

Y/N’s froze, recognizing the voice anywhere. Snapping her head to the window she stared into a pair of familiar blues and a wide grin.

“What the fuck Steve?” She growled.

Steve let out a laugh, not looking the least bit sorry and crossed his arms to lean against the window of her car. He titled his head to the side, smirking his stupid smirk that always made her stomach flutter and flip.

“You’ve still got a mouth on you, huh?”

“You know what, Rogers.” Y/N grumbled, narrowing her eyes in exasperation. Steve laughed through his nose, his smirk morphing into a smile that caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle. “Isn’t it illegal to pull me over without cause?”

“What makes you think I don’t have a reason?”

Y/N didn’t respond, instead sent him a flat glare. Any other time she’s snap back, but today she was all out of snap juice. All it did was cause Steve to cackle and simply shake his head.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be mad.” He snickered. “You weren’t answering your phone and Bucky and I were getting worried.”

Y/N paused, confused. That didn’t sound right.

“But you haven’t text or called me?”

“Yeah, we have.” Steve frowned. “Where’s your phone?”

“Um,” Y/N grabbed her purse and dug around in its bottomless pit. She could have sworn she looked at it before she left Maddie’s and didn’t have any messages from them. It definitely hadn’t gone off since. Finally finding it, Y/N tossed her bag aside and turned the screen on. Sure enough, there were several messages and missed calls from both Steve and Bucky. “Oh. I guess you did.”

Steve snorted with an amused smirk and shook his head. There were moments when Y/N spaced, whether she was exhausted or just checked out for a minute that Steve always thought was adorable. It only took him one glance at her phone to see it was on complete silence. No doubt she flipped it on at one point during the day completely unaware she did. Y/N ducked her chin bashfully and glanced over to Steve.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“Nah, it’s alright, baby girl. We had a feeling you weren’t intentionally doing it.” Steve reassured her and leaned in to press a kiss against her temple. “I just clocked off and was driving back to the station when I spotted you.”

“Ah. Where’s Bucky?” She asked, glancing over his shoulder. He was supposed to be on patrol today, but one of his stipulations for the next week was always to be with someone. Steve typically was the one he picked as a partner, Sam being a close second if Steve had other things he needed to get done for the day. It made seeing him go back out on patrol a little easier knowing someone else was there to keep an eye on him.

“He had his therapy session push back to 5:30. He should be done by the time I get to the station.” Steve explained absently and brushed some hair from her face. “I gotta pick him up, but we were wanting to know what you wanted to do tonight. Although from the look on your face, you’re about ready to crash. I can tell Buck you might need a rain check.”

Y/N tried to hide her disappointment, but it was hard when all she wanted to do was melt into her mattress. She wanted to see the both of them tonight, even though she’d probably pass out on them. Although, cuddling with them did sound like an incredibly appealing idea.

 “I doubt he’ll listen to me though.” Steve rolled his eyes. He already knew how that conversation would end. “You good to drive? You look that exhausted.”

“Yeah, It’s right around the corner.” Y/N said. Any further she probably wouldn’t feel very comfortable with that idea, but she could see the gate from where they were sitting. Steve was quiet, mulling over whether he should drive her the short distance or not. She was right though; it was right around the corner and he could always sit and watch her just in case.

“Alright, text me when you get home. And turn your phone off silent.” Steve leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek. Y/N hummed happily and mumbled an okay. She waited until he was in his car before she pulled off and went the short distance to her apartment.

She had barely kicked off her shoes before she fell face first on her bed and let out an over the top groan. Her feet were killing her, her back was sore, and she had no clue that she was so exhausted. It took her less than five minutes to hit the mattress and she was out like a light. It wasn’t until a heavy weight settled beside her on the bed and the familiar smell of oak and chocolate that caused her to jolt awake. Blearily she realized who it was. The boys must have let themselves in with her key, either that she forgot to lock the door.

Bucky inhaled deeply, snuggling as close as he could by pressing his front against her back and his arm around her waist. They must have run home to change, she could feel the texture of his favorite Henley against her cheek. He began pepper soft kissed up the column of her next, his nose skimming against her skin. Y/N’s lips curled up in a blissful smiled and nestled back into his hug.

“Maddie run you ragged?” Bucky whispered against her hair. Y/N nodded slowly, still too tired to form coherent sentences. “Well, Steve’s ordered some Chinese. While we wait, do you want me to make you a bath?”

That sounded like a wonderful idea. Y/N mumbled an unintelligible noise of agreement and began to wiggle out of his grip. Bucky snickered and held her fast, locking her against his front.

“Nope, you stay put.” He stated. “I’ll get it started and then bring you in when it’s ready.”

Cracking an eye open, Y/N watched Bucky crawl off the bed and make his way towards her bathroom. He paused to press a kiss to Steve’s lips when the other man walked into the room. He murmured his plans against Steve’s cheek and went off to do set up things in the bathroom.

Steve cocked his head to the side and smiled warmly at Y/N from where he stood leaning against the door frame. She flopped over on her back and opened her arms in invitation. Steve laughed when the effort of holding her arms up was too much plopped beside her and crossed the distance to the bed. Carefully scooping her up in his arms, he drew her close with a happy hum. She let out a sound of content and nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck.

Steve allowed his eyes to fall shut, listening to her soft breathing and the sound of Bucky starting up the tub. He lived for moments like this when there wasn’t a care in the world, and he had his best girl in his arms. He could spend the rest of the evening snuggled up with her, maybe a movie playing and Bucky on the other side of her. It had been a long week, and he was ready for a much-needed break.

The sound of the tap turning off made him crack open an eye and turn his head towards the bathroom. He could see Bucky bent over the tub, dropping in a bath bomb from the basket she kept under the sink. He spotted several candles set up already, the soft smell of eucalyptus and mint filtering out the open door. Y/N inhaled deeply, the corners of her lips turning up at the smell.

“You two are too good to be true,” She whispered against his skin. A shiver went up his spine, his cheeks flushing. He started running a hand through her hair and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Cause you are.” Y/N shrugged. Steve snorted and shook his head.

“Nah, I think it’s you who's too good to be true.” He countered. She pulled her head back, a brow raised in disbelief. “You are! Never thought I’d ever love another person as much as I do you. I don’t know how you put up with both of us, but my hearts happy you do.”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, that she was the lucky one and not the other way around when Bucky walked in the room and made an over exaggerated noise of disgust.

“You’re both gross, sappy, and I love you. But the baths done and I’m not letting all my hard work go cold.” He smirked and began untangling her from Steve, who was quite content on keeping her there. He paused when there was a knock on the front door. Steve groaned and let Y/N go. “Go get the food, I’ll put our girl in the bath.”

Steve whined and reluctantly pushed off the bed, dragging his feet as he went to get the food. Bucky scoffed and shook his head, helping Y/N up and towards the waiting tub. She grumbled and leaned back against him, knowing he wouldn’t let her fall.

“Want me to help you get in?” He asked and rested his hands on her hips. Y/N thought about it for a moment before nodded sluggishly. Bucky chuckled fondly and helped her get undressed, occasionally peppering soft kisses on the skin he revealed under her clothes. She pulled her hair up, not wanting to deal with getting her hair wet or having to wash it. She didn’t have the energy to deal with that tonight.

A few moments later, Bucky was helping her settle in the tub when Steve walked in. He plopped down on the closed toilet seat and took in a deep breath of the calming eucalyptus, letting his head fall back against the wall with his eyes closed.  

“Foods stayin’ warm in the oven.” He said, rolling his head to the side and looked over the two with hooded eyes. Bucky was crouched by the tub, one arm resting on the lip while the other arm was draped over the side. He was absently swirling shapes in the bubbles in the water. Y/N had melted in the warm water, watching Bucky’s hand swirl the water with a content smile.

Warmth grew in Steve’s stomach. It was so domestically sweet that he swore his teeth would rot out. He loved every second of it too. The only reason why he hadn’t decided to join her in the tub was the fact it could possibly contain all three of them. They already tried that, and it ended poorly.

“Do we wanna watch a movie while we eat, or catch up on The Good Place?” Bucky broke the silence as he reached for Y/N’s bottle of her favorite body wash and loofa.

“Don’t know if I could focus on The Good Place,” Y/N sighed. Bucky nodded and started to run the loofa up her leg. “I can do that, you know.”

“Shush.” He remarked, completely ignoring the hand she stuck out to take over. “We’ll put something on, pig out on dinner and probably pass out. Do you work tomorrow?”

“No, I took off today and tomorrow so I could get ready for this weekend. Didn’t think I’d have to do everything all in one day though.” She grumbled.

“Well, at least you got it out of the way so you can prepare yourself for Saturday,” Steve said, watching Bucky help her sit forward to get to her back. “Buck and I have off too, a miracle in of itself.”

“We also both grabbed bags incase you had off, so we don’t plan on leavin’ after you fall asleep.” Bucky paused, his hand resting on her shoulder. “If that’s okay with you?”

“No, that’s an awful idea. I don’t want to share my bed with my boyfriends.” Y/N remarked smartly. Bucky scoffed and flicked water at her in retaliation.

“Lean back you brat.” He rolled his eyes. Y/N giggled but did as he asked. “If I didn’t like you a lot, I’d splash more water on you, but you’re lucky I understand the struggle with hair.”

“Have I ever told you how charming you are? You just sweep the ladies right off their feet, don’t you?” Y/N quipped.

Bucky stopped and swiveled towards Steve. Steve blinked and raised a brow.

“Do you hear this? I was all sweet and made her a bath, even helpin’ her and she’s givin’ me attitude.” Bucky complained in faux exasperation. Steve shrugged and cross his arms over his chest, a smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

“I hear her. Cant’ say I blame her though. You’re the one who pulled her over first.”

“Yeah! This is payback!” Y/N interjected. Bucky groaned, rubbing his temple with his dry hand. “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time!”

“Alright, enough outta you,” Bucky growled, leaned forward to quiet her with a kiss. A peal of laughter slipped from her lips despite Bucky’s best attempts at smothering her, his mild irritation the funniest thing all day for her. Bucky nipped at her lower lip when she didn’t stop and let the loofa plop in the quickly cooling water. “You’re such a brat.”

“Mhm,” She hummed, a cheeky grin on her face. “But you love me.”

“I do,” Bucky sighed. “I question my sanity sometimes, but I do.”

He pushed off the tub to stand with a groan, stretching his arms up over his head and reached for a clean towel. Steve stood as well, stepping around Bucky to leave, gently squeezing his hip as he passed.

“I’ll go get Netflix started and get the food on plates.” He said before Y/N could ask where he was off too. He could see her scowl while he made his retreat. As he walked towards the kitchen, he could hear Bucky teasings.

“Alright, you heathen. Let’s get you out before the water gets colder.”

Steve heard Y/N giggle and stand in the tub, smiling to himself as he set up the television in her living room. By the time he had the food waiting on the coffee table, Y/N and Bucky emerged from her room with Y/N in her favorite pjs. She pouted when she realized they were going to sit on the couch and nod her bed like she thought.

“No cuddling?”

“We'll eat first and then move to your room to finish the movie,” Steve assured her.

Y/N nodded and sank into the plush cushions next to Steve, tucking her legs underneath her. Bucky took up his spot next to her, eagerly grabbing a plate to fill up with food.

“What do you wanna watch?” Steve asked as he flipped through the movies. Y/N paused in filling her own plate and glance up.

“Um… Coco!” She wanted a movie she’d seen plenty of time before and didn’t have to focus too much on to follow.

Steve nodded, agree with her selection and turned the movie on. He grabbed his own plate and the three settled in to enjoy their dinner and movie. Half an hour later the food was gone, and Y/N was slouched against Bucky’s side, her eyes dropping shut now with her belly full. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and jerked his chin to her bedroom. Steve didn’t need to be told twice, already shutting down the tv to move into the bedroom.

“Wake up baby girl,” Bucky cooed. Y/N’s face scrunched up and she shook her head with a whine. He grinned. “Guess I’ll have to pick you up then.”

By the time Y/N processed his words, he had already scooped her up in his arms and heading towards her bedroom. Her eyes flew open with a squeak and her arm flung to wrap around his neck. She knew his muscles weren’t just for show, but it always caught her off guard at just how strong he was.

Steve, ever the planner, had her television on with Coco pulled up where they last stopped. The sheet was pulled back for Bucky to gently deposit her in the middle of the bed while he was in the bathroom changing out of his clothes. Bucky pressed a kiss to her forehead and grabbed his own bag beside her dresser.

“Be right back.”

When Bucky stepped in the bathroom, Steve paused with the brush in his hair. He smiled at Bucky through the mirror, his heart growing in his chest at the blissful expression on Bucky’s face. Bucky wrapped an arm around his waist, resting his head between Steve’s shoulder blades.

“You okay, Buck?” Steve set the brush on the counter and wrapped his arms around Bucky with a squeeze. Bucky let out a relaxed sigh and pressed a lingering kiss to his back. 

Steve twisted around in Bucky’s arms and wrapped his arms around the shorter’s neck. Bucky stared at him for a moment, his blues eyes dancing with a light and happiness Steve hadn’t seen in a long while. The corners of his eyes crinkled while Bucky tugged Steve forward and kissed him, humming contently. He rested his forehead against Steve, holding his boyfriend tight.

“Never better.”

[dprwolfgang]

Bottle You Up // Park Jinyoung

Therapist! Jinyoung x Patient! Reader

Fluff, Mild angst, poorly written smut

Request from @luckykpopanimespy​. Thank you for the request and being so patient with me. I promised myself I’d have this done before my bday tomorrow and before the weekend ended so her it is. This is my first ever published piece for Jinyoung so I hope you enjoy and I hope I was able to create what you wanted.

Maybe falling for Jinyoung wasn't the best idea, him being your therapist and all. After years of constantly feeling like there was something wrong with her, it was nice to have someone other than Jackson understand her personality. Most (especially her family) would say that you’re socially inept, emotionally detached but really she was just bad with people which might be the same thing but in order to shut her mother up she’d gone to see a therapist like she recommended. He had been her therapist for the past year thanks to their mutual friendship with one Jackson Wang.  

"You know I was starting to think you didn't need my services anymore." Jinyoung teases as he flips another piece of meat on the grill. Therapy sessions with Jinyoung were a bit different i.e. instead of sitting in a room and listening to her talk about her issues, every session consisted of different activities that included the most mundane of things like going to the movies or grocery shopping which were all supposed to help with her lack of social skills as he had put it. All it's done however, is shown her just how much boyfriend material Jinyoung is and she has not one clue as to why he was single. Tonight the session consisted of Korean BBQ and soju.

"Soooo, are you gonna tell me what happened or…?"

"He said I was emotionally detached and that I needed to realize that he was more than just a piece of ass, that he has feelings too." Head propped up on my hand I look at him " the dick wasn't even that good and he could never find the damn clit. You'd think with all the porn he watches he would know how to locate it but nada." the young woman shrugs as if she was simply reading off the menu while Jinyoung visibly chokes on the shot of soju he'd taken at that moment.

"I don't know, maybe there really is something wrong with me." Taking the rest of  soju to head, she takes a piece of meat and pops it into her mouth."

"____, there's nothing wrong with you, we've been at this for so long and if he couldn't tell that you're an amazing woman then he didn't deserve you. You aren't bad with people ____, you're just very selective of who and what you give your time and energy too and I don't see anything wrong with that. You aren't meant to be happy all the time, you.."

"Whoa, slow down before I fall more in love with you than I already am…hey you wanna be my boyfriend?" If Jinyoung is shocked by the words that come out your mouth then he hides it very well.

She’s not drunk if that's what you're thinking. Tipsy, most definitely but not drunk…or maybe she is?

"Jackson wasn't lying when he said alcohol makes you loose-lipped huh?"

"I'm not drunk!"

"Sure you aren't sweet cheeks, now listen to me even though I'm sure we'll be having this conversation again in the near future. You sit up straight and look directly at him.

"You aren't meant to be the same person you were a week, a month or a year ago. We as humans, we're creatures of habit but we're also creatures of change and you've changed so much since our first session where you just sat a looked at me and…"

"at least somebody thinks so,"

"Yah! Stop cutting me off you little brat," he says pinching her cheeks and now is definitely not the time to be turned on but god dammit he had you whipped and he didn’t even know it.

"Then stop saying shit to increase the massive hard-on I already have for you." You smile at him.

"And that's my cue to get you home." he shakes his head jokingly before calling over the waiter and taking the rest of the food to go.

"Why do you keep ignoring my confessions Jinyoung? At least tell me if you don't feel the same way. I mean it'll suck but I've already accepted my fate with Hanahaki."

"Aish, calm down drama queen,we'll finish talking once we get out of here so stop putting words in my mouth."

“Fucking hell, why’d I leave the damn blinds open?” You mumble to yourself rolling out of bed and heading straight for the bathroom.

It’s not until you’re settled on the toilet fully immersed in relieving your bladder that the smell of coffee and bacon hits your nose.

Who the fuck did I bring home last night?  

You grab the baseball bat beside your desk once back in the bedroom and tiptoe out of it following the scent of French vanilla.  

Firm grip on the handle you poke the shirtless culprit causing the male to jump and drop whatever he was holding in the sink. Once he turns around you’re lowering the bat and glaring at him.

“What the fuck are doing in my apartment so early and shirtless?” Bat rested on the counter and arms folded across your chest.

“It’s noon and San said you’d need the grease and coffee at whatever time you decided to wake up. As for why I’m shirtless…well, a certain someone who claimed she wasn’t that drunk threw up  on me when she tried to convince me to kiss her.” Jinyoung smiles at the pout on your face taking a step forward for every one you took backward.

“I really don’t need to know about your sex life Jin. It’s already bad enough that I gotta deal with the feelings I have for you that I don’t need added salt to my wounds.” He chuckles as he traps you between his shirtless body and the counter.

“How much of last night do you remember pretty girl?” You shrug and reiterate what you remember from the moment you took those migraine pills from San to the moment you woke up. Jinyoung scolds you for mixing alcohol with medication but finally understood why you got so drunk that quickly. Jackson had mentioned in passing that you could hold your liquor more than anyone he knew and even if you did get drunk you never seemed to wake up with a hangover just a craving for coffee and grease. Needless to say he was quite surprised when you were hammered after just four shot of soju and three beers.

He helps fill in the gaps of your hazy memories and by the end your face is buried in your hands.

“Jesus Christ what the everloving fuck is wrong with me?”

“Hey, hey it’s okay. I mean it’s not everyday the woman that I like throws up on me but it makes for a great story later on.” He laughs and so do you because his laugh is just that infectious but you stop when his words sink in.

“Y-you like me?”

“Yeah…I was going to tell you last night but you got wasted and kept cutting me off and then when I got you home, well you already know how that ended up.” His hands find purchase on your waist pulling you closer to him. One hand leaves your waist and travels up the expanse of your body to cup your face. “If the offer still stands, I would love to be your boyfriend.”

Jinyoung’s eyes had been one of his many tells and looking directly at him you could see that he was absolutely serious about what he’d just said and before you could talk yourself out of it you’re kissing him.

It takes a moment for him to reciprocate but once he does, it’s more than anything you’ve ever conjured up in your imagination. His lips are like marshmallows, soft, sweet and pliant against your own. You can taste the coffee and think that you’d never be able to have French vanilla like a normal person anymore. You can’t help the moan that tears from your throat when the hand that once lay on your waist rubs over then grabs an ass cheek, pulling you flush against his body.

“Is that a yes?” He whispers against the side of your neck as he continues peppering the skin with kisses.

“In every language but what about your job?” You question. As much as you wanted him, you knew this could affect his job.

“Yesterday was officially our last session, I meant it when I started I don’t think you need me anymore but if you want to keep your sessions going Jaebum’s already agreed to take over.” He smiles and you’re kissing him again.  

He grabs  both of your thighs and lifts you, wrapping your legs around his waist. He makes the small trek to your bedroom, closing the door with his feet then drops you onto your bed.

“God this better not be a damn dream.” You mumble with no intention of him hearing but he does and he hovers over you kissing you lips lightly.

“It’s not.”  

Jinyoung’s hands picks up where he left off and continues its adventure in exploring your body. Pushing the material of your tshirt up and over your head, his mouth latches on to your nipple as his fingers twist and pull at the other.

“Jin please.” His name leaves your mouth in a breathless sigh. He doesn’t tease or question, he kisses his way down your body until he’s settled between your thighs.  

Your underwear slowly comes off as he whispers about how wet you are, a tentative lick to your dripping core as he wraps his lips around your swollen bud and sucks hard. Fingers teased your wet folds before one slides in. You moan lightly, head thrown back onto your pillow, back arched when Jinyoung slips another finger past your entrance.

You never knew you could enjoy cunnilingus as much as you were in that moment and it was all thanks to him. You push up on your elbows and look down at the sight of Jinyoung’s face buried in your cunt and can’t help the way you clench against his fingers.He ate you out like his life depended on it, knowing exactly when to curl his fingers or suck just a little harder. You were absolutely sure that if San was at home he’d be knocking on your door telling you to keep it down and for once you’ve never been more thankful for his early shifts on a Saturday.  

The tightening of your walls against his fingers alerts him to your impending orgasm and he doubles his efforts to get you there faster. One particularly harsh suck has you coming undone on his tongue and dripping down his fingers.He presses soft kisses up your body as you catch your breath. He wasn’t one to brag but seeing the blissed out expression on your face had him mentally tooting his own horn.

“You good pretty girl?” A kiss to your cheek before dipping into your neck and continuing his assault on your skin.

“You just gave me the best orgasm of my life and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” You laugh lightly when you feel him smile against your skin.

“That was only the beginning baby.” He rises and captures your lips with his. One hand in his hair as the other travels the expanse of his chest down to the waistband of the sweatpants he was wearing slipping under. He groans into your mouth when your hands wraps around his length and squeezes.

Slow, languid strokes up and down his has him growing harder than he already was. He lets you have your fun as he rids himself of his pants and boxers, laying you back against your pillows he takes your hands in his, fingers interwoven and holds them down besides your head.

He runs his length through your glistening folds coating himself in your arousal, his tip catches on your entrance and he’s pushing in until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. Neither of you break eye contact and as much as he wants to fuck into you when your legs tighten around his waist effectively pushing him deeper inside you, he knows he’ll have many more opportunities to do so.

“Please,”

You don’t have to tell him what you need. Jinyoung is acutely aware of when you want him to go faster and harder or slower and deeper. Knows just when to rub figure eights on your neglected clit to have your back arching into his chest and your nails raking down his back as you reach your high.

He slows his pace letting your come down, leaving kisses all over your face. He waits until your breathing has become steady before picking up his pace and chasing his end. Your hand finds his cheek as you both stare at each other.

“Let go baby, cum for me.” You whisper against his lips. Three deep thrusts and he’s pulling out and coming on your navel with a groan. He places a kiss to your lips before he disappears into your bathroom. You can’t help the blissed out smile on your face as your mind replays the last hour. You jump lightly when you feel the warm cloth against your skin and turn to see Jinyoung dressed in his boxers. He helps you pull your tshirt back over your head and tosses the dirty cloth in the hamper then climbs back into your bed pulling you against him.

Head against his chest and his hand in your hair, you sigh in contentment.

“Ever since I realized how I felt about you, I always found myself wanting you around me even when I didn’t have you booked for a session. I found myself wanting to hold you and never let you leave…”

“Every time you smiled at me I felt like I could just keep that image and save it for a rainy day and now I have you here,” you continue when he pauses.

“What do you plan to do with me?” You can hear the teasing tone in his voice and you smile. You look up at him and smile pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Bottle you up.”  

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

Hunted - Chapter One

A/N: This series is a military AU that will feature characters from Marvel and Supernatural. This will be a rollercoaster and I will try to warn accordingly for every chapter. Also, I want to throw out there that feedback is the fastest way to my heart. And last but not least, a shout out to my girl @thorne93​ for betaing all of this (and yelling at me), and to my girl @superapplepie​ for letting me test this story out on her, you guys are the best.  

Flashbacks are italics. 

Warnings: Angst. 

Characters (this chapter): Julia Smith (OFC), Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark

Wordcount: 2736

Series Summary: 

Julia Smith has spent her entire adult life serving her country, but now she lives her life as an inactive marine in New York city. She’s trying hard to find her footing as a civilian, but she can’t shake the restlessness that has settled in her bones. One day she gets an anonymous note with information about a friend’s suicide, and the chase for information begins.

Her first stop is her old comrade, James Barnes, and together they set out to reunite their old squad, to gather intel, and to solve a mystery. The deeper they dig, the more dangerous it gets, and it does not take long before they understand that they’re being hunted. Now it’s a race against the clock. Can they get to the bottom of this and find out who’s hunting them before they lose anymore men?

The squad is united again for one last mission, and it’s gonna be one hell of a ride.

May 16th 2018, New York City:

“So, how are you doing today, Julia?” 

The bright, homey office of Dr. Maria Madsen had become Julia's refuge after coming home from the war. She could close her eyes and still see every plant, picture, and piece of furniture in there, right down to the little notebook the doctor had next to her phone. Even the lavender scent that filled the office gave her a sense of calm now, even though it had given her a headache in the beginning. At first, Julia had been in here three times a week, but because of the progress she was making, it was down to once a week now. 

Julia Smith was a simple woman in many ways, but her mind got complicated after the war, something she was still trying to adjust to. During the last six months of her deployment she had thought much about life as a civilian, how peaceful and simple it would be. She had hopes and dreams for her future, but it proved to be much more difficult to adjust than she had imagined. “I'm doing alright,” she said, locking eyes with her therapist. “Been sleeping and eating well, and the nightmares aren't as frequent anymore.”

Maria looked at her patient, trying to find something in her body language that indicated a truth that wasn't spoken. She was used to veterans lying to her, telling her what they thought she needed to hear to give them a clean bill of health, but Julia wasn't like the rest of them. She had come here voluntarily, and even though she was reluctant to talk at first, she had opened up and kept the dialog going, making Maria's job a little simpler. Still, she couldn't help her instinct, so she always looked for subtle clues in her patients. “And how are you dealing with Sam Wilson's suicide?” 

It had been three weeks since Julia got the call from her comrade, James, that Sam had ended his life. “I'm dealing. The funeral was hard, but I'm glad I got to say goodbye to him,” she said, averting her eyes to try and hide the tears that stung behind them. “It was nice to see the squad again too.”

Maria watched her patient, the slight quiver of her chin and the way her eyes glossed over told her that Julia was still mourning her friend. “You're allowed to grieve,” she noted. 

“I know.” Julia was tough, she had to be to make it through this life, and showing her vulnerable side like this was something that didn't come naturally to her, it was something she had to learn, something she was still working on. 

Julia had the military running through her blood. She came from a long line of military men, so when her father was killed in combat there was no doubt in her mind that she was to follow in his footsteps. The day of her eighteenth birthday, she enlisted. Camp Lehigh became her home and her squad became her family, but as a girl, she had to prove herself every day, she had to prove that she could hold her own. She had to be tough. 

“You have lost a lot of your friends-” 

“Family,” Julia corrected.

“Sorry. You have lost a lot of your family since you got deployed the first time, and a couple more this past year, do all those memories resurface when you get a phone call like the one you got when Sargent Wilson died?” Maria asked, trying to get Julia to talk about her losses.

“They're on my mind every day. Everyone we lost in battle and everyone we lost since. I don't think that there will ever be a day that they aren't on my mind,” she said with a very defensive tone, feeling like her doctor didn't appreciate how closely knitted one became when you went into battle together.  

“That's understandable,” Maria mumbled while she wrote something down on her notepad. “Does it affect you differently when they are a victim of war as opposed to victims of suicide?”

“They are all victims of war,” Julia stated simply. “Whether they died in battle or took their own life after, they're still victims of war. The things that we see, the things we have to do… they never leave you, the war never leaves you,” she said coldly, her eyes drifting to the vast window that overlooked some of Manhattan. 

“How about you? Can you live with the things you have seen and done?” Maria asked, sensing a change in her patient. Right now she couldn't put her finger on what it was, but something was different today. 

“Are you asking me if I'm suicidal, doc?” Julia quizzed, raising her brows in disbelief as her attention was drawn back to her therapist. 

“Maybe.” Maria shifted in her seat, leaning forward as she awaited the answer that never came. “Are you still going to group?” 

“No. I haven't been there in a few months,” Julia informed. “Sitting in a ring with old geezers talking about their old army buddies wasn't exactly therapeutic to me.”

“Alright. Do you at least have someone else to talk to? A friend maybe? Someone who can check in on you every now and then?”

“This is bullshit. I'm not suicidal,” Julia snapped. 

“Okay. It just feels like you're in a different headspace today, that's why I'm asking,” Maria defended as she leaned back in her chair. 

“You know, I think I've had enough therapy for today.” Julia got to her feet and grabbed her purse from the coat rack in the office. 

Maria also got to her feet. This was not the first time that Julia finished a session early, but there was something in her behavior on this particular day that worried Dr. Madsen. “Do you want to schedule your appointment for next week before you go?” she asked as she put her notes on the chair she had just been occupying. 

“I'll call and make an appointment,” Julia said dismissively, storming out of the office without looking back at her therapist. For the last nine months she had been coming here, any therapist worth their degree would know by now that she wasn't suicidal, it was insulting that she even got asked that question. 

“Ms. Smith?” Dr. Madsen’s receptionist called after her, but Julia didn't stop so she had to run after her. Once out in the street, the dirty blonde woman caught up to Julia, waving an envelope in her hand. “This was left here for you,” she said, handing Julia the piece of paper. 

“Who gave this to you?” Julia asked after seeing her name neatly written on the envelope. No address or stamp on it, which meant that someone delivered it personally, someone who knew she'd be here. An uneasy feeling crept up on her as she looked into the secretary's blue eyes. 

“I don't know. It was on my desk when I got back from the bathroom, figured it might be important,” she said with a shrug. 

Julia's eyes was trained at the envelope as she offered a quick thank you to the woman next to her. 

***

The door to the small studio apartment in Brooklyn flung open and was shut just as fast when Julia finally reached her home. The small space wasn't really decorated at all, no personal belongings except for a picture on her nightstand of her squad, her family. She had all the necessities of living, a kitchen, pots and pans, a bed, a small television, a tiny bathroom, but there was absolutely nothing in there that would give any clue as to who lived there, and that's exactly how she wanted it. 

Grabbing her trusted bottle of whiskey, she sat down on the lumpy couch and took a big gulp of the golden liquid, not bothering with a glass. The uneasy feeling that had settled in her after she got the envelope put her nerves in high gear, and she needed some liquid courage before she opened it. Ever since she got the news about Sam, she had been on edge, her instincts telling her that something wasn't right, but ultimately she had chalked it up to grief. However, she had spent all her adult life relying on her instincts, so why should this be any different? 

With a deep breath she ripped the envelope open and pulled out the note that was folded up inside of it. It was handwritten, neat and easily read, and just by looking at the letters she knew it was a woman who wrote it. 

Julia Smith. 

You don't know me, and you have no reason to trust me, but I have been working on a case for the past year, and now it has lead me back to you and the last mission you worked during your deployment last year. I can't give you much information, but I wanted you to know that Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff were murdered. 

A higher power is at work here, and I am working the case on my end, but dead soldiers are a bit beyond my pay grade. I don't care what you do with this information, but I didn't feel right sitting on it. 

Regards, 

Anonymous friend. 

“Shit.” 

Julia ran over to her closet, knocking the whiskey over on her way, but there was no time to worry about that. Her military issued duffle bag lay on the bottom of the closet, already packed and ready for a quick get away, so she pulled it out and threw it on her bed before she started taking off her clothes to get changed. 

Out of the duffle, she pulled a black pair of jeans and a black t-shirt that she threw on before grabbing her combat boots from their place by the front door. If anyone had seen her like this, they would think this all happened in a frenzy, a person panicking and acting irrational, but it was everything but. She was calm and collected, she knew what had to be done, and she did it efficiently. 

When she stepped into the bathroom, she put her brown hair up in a high ponytail and put on a black baseball cap, pulling the hair through the little hole in the back. She needed to hide her face as best she could. When she left this apartment, she needed to be invisible. 

The last drops from the whiskey bottle fell to the floor as she shoved her gun into the lining of her pants before she put on her leather jacket to hide it. Now all that was left was the photo on her nightstand. Her slender fingers picked it up carefully, the smiling faces of her squad, her family, greeting her. These people were all she had in her life, and she intended to keep the rest of them alive, no matter the cost. The last thing she did before leaving her apartment was to fold the picture in half, putting a little more wear on the crease that had formed down the middle of the photo, and securing it in her back pocket. 

***

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes was the only one other than Julia that lived in the city, so he was her next logical stop, that didn't mean she felt good about what she was about to tell him. Navigating the streets of New York was simple enough, hiding in the masses of people, going unnoticed. But Julia had been looking over her shoulder the whole way, backtracking and making detours to make sure she hadn't been followed before she finally knocked on his door. 

“Jules?” he questioned when he opened the door. It wasn't like her to show up unannounced, or at all for that matter. It wasn't that he wasn't happy to see her, but an unannounced visit normally came with bad news, and by the look on her face, this wasn't any different.

“Hey, Bucky,” she said, looking over her shoulder and down the empty corridor. “Can I come in?” 

“Sure.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside to let her in, also letting his eyes scan the corridor. Bucky had known her for years, they had trained together, served together, basically spent all their adult lives together, he knew her better than he knew himself it seemed like. Just one look at her today, and he knew something was wrong, something big. “Want to clue me in here?” 

This apartment looked a lot like Julia's, sparsely decorated, small, the bare minimum of what someone needed to live. The same photograph that she had in her back pocket was stuck to his fridge with a magnet, but other than that, no identifiers of who lived here. It's strange how this becomes the norm after spending most of your life moving around the world. 

“Something happened today.” 

“What?” he asked, concern flashing over his handsome face, his blue eyes narrowing as she pulled out the envelope and handed it to him. “What is this?” 

“This was dropped off for me at my therapist’s office today. I don't think I was inside for more than ten minutes,” she informed. 

Bucky kept his eyes on her as he opened the envelope and pulled out the note inside, unsure that he wanted to know what it contained. When his eyes dropped down to the words written, Julia kept a steady eye on his face, how his eyes moved across the page, how his eyebrows scrunched together as he took in what was actually written, and how his strong jaw flexed under the dark scruff that was covering it. She watched him get angrier and angrier with every word, until his eyes met hers again, a fire ignited behind them. 

“Is this a joke?” he asked through gritted teeth. 

“Do you think I would show up here like this if I thought this was a joke?” Jules challenged. As marines they were taught to hide their emotions, to bury them until the mission was over, and Bucky was normally one of the hardest to read. That wasn't the case now though, and she couldn't really blame him. “I told you that something was off about Wilson's death.”

“His suicide, you mean?” he countered.  

“His murder.”

“You’re being paranoid, Jules,” Bucky said dismissively as he shoved the note back into her hands. “Natasha and Sam killing themselves was a tragedy, but it's not exactly uncommon for veterans to commit suicide. Doesn't mean that there are some kind of conspiracy behind it.”

“Come on, Buck. You have to admit that something isn't right here. Can you honestly tell me that the Sam Wilson you knew would blow his own brains out?” 

“Hey!” Bucky warned as he took two steps closer. “He was a good man and a great marine, but he wasn't immune to the shit we did. We don't know what was going on in his head, maybe he couldn't deal with it anymore.” Bucky was a big guy, a head taller than Julia, and muscled from head to toe, he looked scary as all hell, but Jules knew that he had an even bigger heart than most people she knew, so she wasn't afraid of him.  

“I don't believe that for a second,” Jules said stubbornly. She didn't as much as flinch as he came closer, towering over her while his voice was low and gravelly. She knew that the only reason why he was showing his emotions was because he was having doubts as well, but maybe he needed more time to get on board with this. “I'm gonna get to the bottom of this, and I'm here to ask for your help,” she said calmly and with as much resolve as she could muster up. 

“Jesus, Jules. This isn't real. There's no story here, just leave it alone.”

“You know I'm not gonna do that.” She shoved the note back in her duffle and threw it over her shoulder. “Thanks for nothing, Sergeant Barnes,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she turned away from him and made her way towards the door. 

“Don't be like that,” he yelled after her in an exasperated tone, but he got no response from her. “Fuck,” he muttered when she slammed the door shut behind her, leaving him alone. 

********

Please let me know what you think. And if you want to be added to the tag lists, send me an ASK

[shametheshadow]

It's been a while. A lot of shit's been going on since I was last kinda active. Sorry, I dont remember how to hide this under a read more line... feel free to scroll past if you arent in the mood for existential whinging. I got a new job and it's pleasant. The people are nice. It's still food, but it's at a fancy restaurant where the management actually cares and tries to keep their crew happy. The hours could be better and I'm currently sick of salads with how many I've made. They give hours based on reliability and if you're a hard worker who is nice to work with. But like... everybody is nice and hard working so it's hard to just muscle in sometimes. But on the positive side I've dropped ten pounds, probably thanks to how light my wallet is. Had an issue with my little brother. Well, there's been an unspoken issue for years that I've been trying to just give him space on, but it finally came to a head. I called him out and he said some pretty hurtful things. I saw him on Christmas, but it wasnt the same. I think it kind of damaged something between us, or at the very least it certainly has me. I think, as people, we build these pillars of absolute truths into our identities. The things we know without a doubt, that we can rely on to stay true even when things are bad. Like, that the sky is blue or that a parent we have will always love us. When those truths are shaken they really make you wonder what else could be wrong or if there was ever any truth in it to begin with. For me, no matter how bad I felt or hated myself, I knew I could be a good sister. I'd throw myself down for it. I have done so, unfortunately, many times before. We all see the world a little differently, so my truth may not be the truth someone else sees. I dont know whether that makes it any better, but I certainly feel unsure about more things now than I used to. Some days I even feel like giving up on our relationship. I'm just too tired, too worn down, and I don't think I can handle being called a failure again. Which sucks, because I dont really want to. I just want to know how to fix it, even though I'm not sure I have any more energy to try again if it's just going to lead to another failure. And on top of all of that my bio dad and all those siblings are tasting the bitter consequences of their actions. My youngest sister got taken away from her parents because instead of breaking up and being adults about it they have to be petty and cowardly. One has unchecked anger issues mixed with plenty of excuses and the other thinks she's owed some sort of respect despite her immature actions. Thing is, I've had plenty of talks with my bio dad about the effects their toxic relationship have on his 6 year old daughter. He knows. He isnt stupid or blind. He'd just rather keep it going despite everyone's unhappiness and dig a deeper hole so he doesn't have to risk losing custody of his daughter if they break up. And here we are now. With his daughter taken away and given to our 21 year old sister who doesn't have a clue. And they've failed to regain custody once already. And you know the fucking hilariously tragic part of it? Me and my sister Des are the only two without some sort of record so nobody else in the family can help. Just a fucking warning for any teens out there who think being a gangster is cool, life always has consequence. Doing drugs, selling pills, pimping, stealing cars, assault, having unregistered weapons... my family has probably done just about anything. Apparently my bio dad's stepfather even threatened to shoot my grandma once. There's an argument to made about the environment they all grew up in, but I really wish people would just have the self awareness to realize that things will always find a way to bite you in the ass and it's it big enough then it'll get the people around you too. I normally get my sister on weekends, but I need to work Saturdays as a requirement for my employment. I try to cut it short so I can be there when they drop her off, but half the time they dont and send her somewhere she isnt supposed to go. I'm risking my job trying to be there when I'm needed, just for them to change their mind at the last second because I wasnt home soon enough. They'd rather risk losing our sister to the system by breaking the rules. CPS doesn't play around. I've had to tell them two or three times that I couldn't take our sister because I was sick or dealing with some really stressful family stuff that Koral didnt need to be there to see. Every time I feel like the punishment is that they stop letting me see her by not bringing her over anymore. Then out of the blue they call on a weekday and ask if I can take her because she has a day off or something. I have never once said no but every time it sends me into an anxiety attack because I can't handle being kept in the dark until they need me. It's got me so worked up that sometimes I genuinely wish I had never been told my dad wasnt my real dad. Of course, I know that by knowing I can help a little girl who needs help, but I wont lie and say that I never wished I didn't have time deal with any of it. I got the news today that my bio dad is in trouble for something else, though they wouldn't say what. So they arent going to give him custody until that's settled at the very least. Shortly into it my sister had asked me to take over the guardianship. I was so out of the loop that I thought the question was absurd. I thought they'd pull it together and get her back in a short time, so what would the point of moving her to another town and school be? How would I go about that? What would the home requirements be? Would I be able to provide for the both of us? I wouldn't be able to leave work until 4 at the earliest shift, so would after school stuff be best or daycare? There's so much that goes into taking care of a kid to just spring that question onto someone. Now it's been four or five months and I'm hating the idea that she's stuck there in the middle of it all more and more. People keep telling me I should take her. Even my manager after I broke down and told him everything after my sister's call left me a mess at work, said that I would be the better option. I know what it's like to be fought over in custody battles and I understand way too well the fear of being taken away from your home as well as what it's like to change schools. I dont want that for Koral. I dont even know if I would be the better option. I talked to my cousin, whom I live with, about it for a while last night and she said she wouldn't be opposed to having Koral with us... but I feel bad making this her issue too. I want what is best for my sister. She's way too smart. You know when unqualified pet owners get a dog breed that is really smart and they struggle to meet the needs to keep it entertained so it just makes trouble? That is what my sister is like. My family has their strengths, but Koral is 6 and could run circles both physically and mentally around them. It might be "funny" now, but Lansing itself is a shitty influence on people and by the time she's a teenager and wants to go to a party, nothing is going to keep her from getting out short of bars on the windows and doors. The only thing stopping her from doing it now is motive. But would I do any better? I genuinely dont know. I wish I could talk to my brother about it. He knows where I come from and, even if he thinks I failed, he could at least tell me how to be better so I dont fuck up again for a little girl who is in a situation similar to one we were in. I asked Des today if she wanted to talk to their case worker about transfering guardianship. She said she's have to talk to her dad... which is bullshit. He lost the right to dictate where Koral goes when he fucked up. How is he supposed to be motivated to fix this if the only thing that has changed is that she doesn't sleep in her bedroom anymore? He shouldn't see her when he wants to or be able to say what happens to her. And I dont say that because I think he shouldn't ever be able to, because I want him to step it up, I just feel like he wont if things keep going as they are. I dont want to lose my sister to the system. Supposedly the social worker said that Koral also has to stay in the same school and can't see anyone not on the already approved list of people for the sake of consistency... but that's stupid. I know that changing schools can be traumatizing, and if Lansing was a good place to live and raise a kid, then maybe I'd try to make that work, but it isnt. So it makes me wonder that if I came to the table with a clearly stable, appealing plan would they change their minds? If it were my choice, I'd have her in therapy to help deal with everything, maybe a sport like gymnastics or whatever else she might be interested in to keep her engaged. I'm planning a kids d&d session for her and another kiddo that she plays with when she's here because last time she found my monster manual and got obsessed. And I know it wont be all good. She's a handful and a brat, and she can be a force of nature when she doesn't get her way, but I've been an older sister since I was five and my family didnt out up with bratty behavior. I know how to deal with it, and I also know how to use the internet and other resources to learn. Hell, I live with a child therapist/youth minister. I know I could do it. Even if it ended up being a permanent thing. I'm torn between the fear of not being enough at the expense of my sister's wellbeing and knowing that I'd gladly twist myself into a pretzel to try and do right. But when it comes to other people, especially a kid, is trying enough? Good intentions don't equal a quality of living. So yeah, that's where I am right now. Trying to be better and figure out who I am while also being incredibly stressed out and lost. If you read through this, thank you for listening to this TED talk. I'm open to advice.

[renaer-is-allegedly-hot]

actual session 8 notes

• I made a mistake

○ Mistake as in I came in late oops

• Anyways

• They're talking abt hair

• For sneak attack you roll 2d6 just a friendly reminder to yourself

○ oH IT TELLS U IN DNDBEYOND HOW MUCH FOR SNEAK ATTACK OKAY

• Now they're talking abt pranking ppl in the rides

• Now they're talking abt disneyland problems

• Now they're talking abt rollercoasters

• Jacob's fish ate each other

• Ok dnd time

○ "no worries" re: me being late s u r e ok nvm it's not depression time

• Passive perception checks and then we do smth idk

• Last session(s)

○ Downtime and then breakfast was bombed

○ Found out the attack was deliberate

○ Went to the one fancy villa house and got into a few fights

○ A nimblewright ?? Was responsible for the attack ig

○ We dipped and it's rainy

• The city is engulfed in thiccccc fog

○ Walking back to mirt's house

§ Lillian got prankt

• Lillian's sister has a guinea pig

○ Its name is buttercup

○ "buttercup dumpy tho" - jacob, 2020

• We're talking abt china's laws wrt eating dogs

• We're in the fog going to mirt's

○ Mirt's house is in sea ward, we're in north ward (a ward away)

○ If we just walk it's a half mile away

○ But there r streets so like a mile walk

○ Visibility is bad bc spring fog

○ Disadvantage on perception checks, visibility reduced to 30 ft

○ We're walking we get there

• Cel knocks

○ No one answers the door

○ Adam is making an investigation check

§ Does a short tour of the front, nothing out of the ordinary

§ Door is locked

§ Looking into the house there's an occasional candle burning by itself

□ Adam uses thaumaturgy to rapidly change the color of the lights inside to see if he can get anyone's attention

® Lights change color, nothing happens

§ Maybe we'll break in but cel will try the pebble on a window thing first

□ Throws, door opens and floon lets us in

□ Mans just got up

® We're a lil wet

□ It's abt 5am

• Short rest? There's no medium rest

○ I want cake I might make cupcakes after this bc I need cake sugar

§ I'll make cake after this and watch criminal minds bc it had me scream

○ We're taking shifts for keeping watch sleeping in mirt's living room w windows facing out onto the street

○ We're taking a long rest

• When cel is on watch she's just watching the door and windows

• Eventually renaer and floon get up n operate on a normal schedule

• Cut straight to wake up

○ Once we're all up it's raining

○ Hi jacob's dad isn't his name frederic ? Oh god I could b v wrong but I'm p sure bc when marguerite named the squirrel someone was like it's jacob's dad

§ "usually what I say should be cut off" - frederic, 2020

§ Aw bye jacob's dad

§ Jacob sounds exactly like his dad

□ Tb to the one time we were playing split the room on jackbox w my cousins and my dad and the choice was trading ur average newborn for an uber smart one or not and all of the cousins and myself said don't trade and mY DAD SAID TRADE

• It's pouring

• Mirt doesn't seem to b here but we can talk to renaer and floon

○ Gonna talk to them abt the mansion n ppl / things at the mansion

○ Oh a nimblewright is the one thing

§ Oops I accidentally googled it and turns out they're employed as bodyguards / assassins / spies

○ "renAer . Do u recognize this symbol"

§ He is indeed familiar w the crest

§ "well to me this looks like the house of grahlund (idk) ?? Or smth"

§ The houses of waterdeep

§ We're suss abt the book

□ We don't see any other black pages tho

§ Adam says the gnome was unfortunately barbecued

□ "trying to deliver the stone of galore" to us probs

□ Y would he deliver it to us

□ "bc mirt is relatively well known ,, this house is probs well watched"

□ The stone of galore v sought after by noble families apparenTly

□ The house ppl r embezzling that's y they want the rock

□ Had their robot blast our door for it

□ But now city watch probably has it

□ Theo remembers the one elven lady having seen someone run off

□ The zents want it, the nobles want it, the citywatch want it

○ So is the plan to go find a zent ??? Or what we'd learn if we went to the robot's location

§ I don't remember any frickin robot I'm just trying to pick up on context clues

§ Oh right grinda in mistshore ? 

§ We're gonna go find grinda

□ It's like around 4 in the afternoon

□ Sun not shining too brightly

□ Renaer not coming

® Ur leaving groot w renaer this time

□ Neither is floon, mirt mentioned he had to go do some business elsewhere

® Adam is currently suspicious of mirt

□ We need a ride

® We all dish out 3 copper for a taxi

® Dom dabbed and no one cares

○ Can u drop a message to the guy ?? Somehow ?? Somewhere ?? Just like ,, keep him in the loop ???? Ur confused

• Ok we pay

○ Adam is playing the uke

§ We're in the cab 

§ Imagine it's raining aggressively

§ A dwarf guild member picks us up

§ Ugh I want cake

§ Could I bake while playing hm

§ Cab driver has a rigging of sorts set up

§ I have to pee too

§ Any interesting looking ppl in the cab w us ?

○ A gnome w a fedora looking p drenched, dragonborn woman half sleeping kinda elderly, human man

§ Adam slaps the gnome, you stare at the gnome, gnome looks at adam and adam runs an insight check adam rolls 23, gnome tries to look surprised but looks like he's overacting

§ "there's not a lot of big ideas here"

§ "well that's obvious enough"

§ Gnome picks up on stare

§ You get the paper you flip it, you roll for insight gets 22

□ Takes the bait, looks at the paper; eventually human gets off

□ We're getting close to outskirts of dock ward, road is mud

□ At some point the gnome tries to start conversation

□ "say what's that you've got there"

□ "well I only saw him at the carnival that shows up every fall"

® Common in the autumn but not nowadays

® Would have to wait another summer

□ "are you a nimblewright fanatic sir"

® "all I'm saying is I like springtime rain as much as the next guy but when the wind season comes in it's kinda unusual"

® Gnome's name is elbridge

◊ Adam rolls for insight

} 25

} Looks like he's used to saying that name but it might not be his name

® "say I have some business to attend to so driver u can keep the tip just don't tell the guild" dwarf nods and slows the horses down, gnome gets off and dips

• Adam wants him to blow a nose

• "did he leave any little hairs" - marguerite, 2020

○ Cab driver shouts and says no stabbing on the cart

• We're in the dock ward, cart stops and dwarf leans over and makes us get out

○ Shakes his head and says we shouldn't go to mistborne

○ "is there any instruction you can give us for how to 'get there get there' because you're not 'taking us taking us'" - adam, 2020

• Aerana's leading

○ Dom sends a map

○ We're not standing on the muddy running water streets but on wooden planking

○ You have your dagger at hand

○ Beached ships but ppl living inside them probably

○ U can see there r some ppl peeking out of various doorways + shifty characters milling abt

○ Cel and adam r holding hands

○ Adam is sweating a lot but cel still holds it

○ At some point a dragonborn that looks like a sailor or smth w lots of battlewounds n tattoos looks p savage w dull brown color to scales, stands in front of u without saying anything

○ Ur like a lil shorter than humans and dragonborn r much taller

§ "I have business in mistborne what are you doing in my way"

§ Not so many city types

§ Adam mumbles smth under his breath

□ Asks adam what kind of business

□ "we're looking for grinda"

® Tries to appear jovial

® Says ah yes she lives here

® Dragon therapy

◊ He takes and puts to temple 

◊ U pay him 3 gold

◊ Grinda garloff

} Strange woman w a shed at the end of the dock

} Take a left here and follow the sounds of the waves

} Throws out a fourth

– Has many visitors w strange visitors

◊ Cel says she likes his tattoos

} "yes these r when I was sailing around the isle of chault"

• We follow his directions and eventually get to d1, we see ppl trying to set a fire

○ Walk down the dock towards d2, door to north of d2 has small assemblage of ppl

○ Can see up to 60 ft away some odd looking ppl

§ Four thugs bearing weapons; three humans w a dwarf barking instructions, attempting to break down the door to d2

§ Might b grinda's house but we really don't know

§ Adam spruces up the one fire of the dock workers

□ Cel lets go of adam's hand

□ They don't notice adam did it

• Adam tries to hear what the dwarf is saying bc it's rainy and doesn't hear anything

○ Lots of shifty ppl around

○ Some of them r watching the scene and also us

○ We approach the audience

§ Adam nudges the friendliest looking person

§ We all go up onto the elevated ship

§ Immediately ppl look at us suss

□ Confrontational almost and eventually a half-elf woman asks us if we're here to watch them string up grinda

® Cel makes persuasion check

® Isn't there another door ?

® Adam goes to cushiest looking person and asks y they're after grinda

◊ Old grizzled halfling answers adam and says grinda took smth she wasn't supposed to have

◊ "we're here to make sure that grinda doesn't escape unharmed"

◊ "we're pretty tough as well" adam says

◊ More ppl come over closer to us

◊ Adam asking how much it would be to outbuy

◊ "that depends on how much you're asking oh wrinkly one"

◊ Halfling confers w fellows

◊ Halfling appears to be a ringleader

} Says 15 dragons

– 19 for insight

w Confident guy, lived a tough life

w Ppl put their trust in him

w Halfling says 15 is bargain price

w Unsuccessful try to push the price down you all cough up 3 dragons

– They start distributing dragons

w Not used to containing excitement

○ After distributing money asks if we have a bone to pick with the xants

§ Adam's gonna play them a song and plays it so hard it casts shatter on the dock the thugs are standing on

□ Constitution saving throws for everything

® Two of the bandits and the dwarf fail their saving throws, other two succeed

® Tl;dr the dock - two of them r shocked so hard they're either dead or unconscious

® Dwarf Is particularly affected

® Dock they're standing on collapses

® Door blasted off inwards

◊ "that's a little trick I learned at bard school"

◊ Ppl on the boat have moved away

® Humans and dwarves screaming

◊ 3 left

} We're not killing them just going into the house

} Go to the side entrance

– V small room w all bare necessary fixtures

– Strange safes n intricate bolted locks

– Hanging talismans from the roof

– Nvm went too fast

w Aerana jumps and runs into a wall but you run into a cabinet

w 3 damage

w Human woman looks unconscious

w Adam casts healing word

w Resuscitates her

w Has mismatched eyes, one yellow other dark green

w V gray hair

w Doesn't look particularly old just has gray hair

w Startles when she wakes up trying to assess our intentions

w Adam tries to convince her the thugs outside tried to blow up her door

w 18 for deception

w Lie works

w "who are you people?"

® Theo asks if she knows anything abt this *pulls out paper*

◊ Affirms we're not w the xants

◊ "I appreciate what you did my name's grinda"

◊ Doesn't look used to talking to this many ppl at once

◊ Stands up and busies herself w putting the room back in order

◊ Looks like she had been barricading the door w stuff before everything was knocked over

◊ "you're telling me you just happened across this place and drove off some xants for some odd purpose"

◊ "actually we were looking for you" - theo

◊ Were told she might have smth to do w the paper

◊ "all the homies hate xanathar" - adam, 2020

} "I've had my dealings w the xanathar before…" admits she was in over her head

} Looking at the paper "so this nimblewright was instructed to drop off an artifact I was supposed to hold for the xanathars

} She got greedy bc she's a treasure-seeker

} The artifact is worth a lot

} "it's just what we do lady" - adam, 2020

} Adam is gonna charm her

– Adam tries to flex "what exactly what was the dangerous item that put a poor, poor, well-facially featured woman like you in danger" what is this jacob

w 17 persuasion

– Her expression changes a little

– It's the stone

w "I was attempting to attune with it but I was unable to in time"

w She put it in a hide hole

w Adam offers to trade hidey-hole locations

w She has a rat familiar and instructed it to take the stone to the city of the dead

w "can you tell the rat to bring it back"

• The city of the dead: mass cemetery where ppl of waterdeep bury their dead within city limits

○ Almost like its own ward

○ In the garlock? Garlof? family mausoleum

○ Adam gets her to pull out some of the items she's collected; some resistance

§ She comes back w a brass ring

□ Once one is attuned to it you are rendered invisible

□ "hold on to that for me hun and I'll come back"

○ Aerana is aware there are guards posted at night but it's a vast open space

• To the cemetery we will go

• Summary

○ Successfully dispatched the thugs

○ Gradually learning more abt the alleged horde of dragons

[cards-onthetable]

Surrender

(Chapter one) (Chapter two) (Chapter three) (Chapter four) (Chapter five) (chapter six) 

Chapter seven. 

The early morning sun on his face wrenches Jamie from a restless sleep. His head pounds, protesting the short four hours he managed to get since arriving home in the middle of the night. And his whole body aches after spending those four hours on the couch. But since he’s the one who brought up divorce, he’s the one who’s been banished to the living room.

Sitting up, he notes movement in the kitchen. Eddie’s back is to him as she pours her coffee as quietly as she can.

When she turns she looks surprised to see him watching her.

“Good morning,” she says coolly. “What time did you get in last night?”

“Late.”

“Well I’m sorry to wake you. Go back to sleep. But don’t forget, we’ve got an appointment at two and I expect to see you there.”

Jamie can’t help rolling his eyes. “Counseling? I don’t know what you think you’ll get out of that, Eddie.”

“Oh, I don’t know, my husband back?” she snaps.

He groans but doesn’t try to argue that he’s the one who’s been here the whole time — it was Eddie who transferred, who gave up on everything in the first place—

“I want to give us one more chance, Jamie,” she adds softly. “I want to do everything we possibly can to make us work. But this — this is it. Okay?”

“Where is the office again?” He sighs.

“Bergen and Court.”

He nods as he tries to rub the exhaustion from his face.

“This is really important,” she says, gathering her purse and keys. “I’ll see you at two.”

He says nothing as she sweeps out the door.

He waits a few minutes, partly to ensure that she’s really gone and partly because that’s how long it takes him to work up the energy to move.

It’s been his routine these last few days, since he’s been working late while Eddie’s on days. The decorative sheer curtains in the living room aren’t conducive to daytime sleeping so once she leaves, he sneaks into the bedroom to enjoy a few hours of actual rest, courtesy of their memory foam mattress and blackout drapes.

At least now he’s been getting a few hours a day in a bed.

He spent two nights at his dad’s house after that big fight, claiming the need to cool off. But it didn’t take long for Frank and Henry’s nagging to get to him and he went home. For a week, while he and Eddie were on the same schedule, it was nothing but the couch for him. So his switch to swing shift, and half a day of a real bed, was actually a welcome change for once.

Working different shifts also means less time having to awkwardly coexist in the same space as his wife. After he blew off the meeting Eddie scheduled with the counseling priest at church last week, that’s a good thing too.

After the missed session, while she yelled at him, he claimed he didn’t feel comfortable going before a priest with their relationship problems. Really, he couldn’t bring himself to admit that couples counseling is probably a good idea — maybe even the only real shot they have at getting back on track. Because admitting she’s right is the same as admitting that he was wrong. And he refuses to be wrong.

He didn’t expect her to turn right around and get them in to see a secular marriage counselor.

He’s not sure yet what he’ll do about that. But he’s got a few hours to decide. So he drags the couch throw blanket into the bedroom, lays down on top of the covers, and lets the cool darkness drag him into sleep.

***

This time it’s not the sun, but his buzzing phone that wakes him up.

Eddie: Appointment at 2. It’s just a short intake meeting. Don’t forget.

The next message is a maps link to the therapy office, followed by another text bubble.

Eddie: Please come, Jamie. I love you. I want to work things out. We’re pretty fucked up but we can fix it. But it has to be a team effort. If you can’t do that then I’m done. Don’t make me make that choice.

With a sigh he tosses his phone down on the comforter. It sounds like an ultimatum, but so has just about every other conversation they’ve had in recent weeks, maybe even months. It doesn’t scare him. He’s confident Eddie won’t follow through. He just needs to maintain the status quo until Eddie gives up her fight and things go back to normal.

When he opens the bedroom door the smell of strong coffee hits him. Eddie must’ve set the programmable coffeemaker for him before she left. At one time those little gestures filled their bubble of newlywed bliss with appreciation and happiness. Now, for a reason he can’t quite identify, his reaction is a mix of annoyance and resentment.

But that’s what they’ve turned into. Where there was once love, at least on his end, there’s now just this festering, destructive bitterness. When it gets intense like this — acidic, bubbling up like bile in his throat — sometimes he questions whether he ever really loved her at all.

Maybe he only wanted Eddie because for so long he couldn’t have her.

She was a safe, easy attraction — close enough that he could toy with her all the time, yet off limits so he always had an easy excuse to hide behind. What they had was fun and interesting, without crossing that line into anything dangerous and beyond his control.

Until they crossed that line. He recalls how quickly their dynamic changed after that morning when he dropped to one knee at the fourteenth hole of their favorite putt-putt golf course.

Eddie hesitated. She tugged him back to his feet and held his hands as she asked, “Jamie… are you sure this is a good idea?”

He’d given her some half-assed, adrenaline-fueled argument that they’ve been basically dating-without-benefits for nearly 5 years and what else did they need to do? With a breathy Iloveyou and a desperate, heated kiss, he had her saying yes.

Suddenly he had a life partner, someone with expectations he needed to meet, someone with whom he was supposed to share every aspect of his life. He had no clue how to do that, and nowhere left to escape.

Once the adrenaline melted away, the ugly foundations of their romantic relationship became visible. There was hardly anything there — friendship and professional camaraderie couldn’t bridge the gap that should have included dating and transitioning and figuring out together what it meant to be a couple.

They found themselves with questions and even fundamental disagreements that most couples worked through before they shopped for rings and venues. Much of that went unaddressed as they barreled headfirst into the rest of their lives. They were bulletproof.

But Kevlar doesn’t protect against threats from within.

At the kitchen counter, Jamie lifts the full carafe from the machine and empties it into the sink.

[mittensmorgul]

5.11, Sam, Interrupted. Right on the heels of seeing their roles in the story from an outside perspective, we shift in the complete opposite direction, into a deep internal perspective.

Still, there's a primary manipulative force. Only it's manipulating them from the inside instead of from the outside. And Sam and Dean "pretend" to be insane to get themselves admitted to a psych hospital believing they're actually in control the entire time, when they were basically screwed and being manipulated from the moment they had their intake exams...

Hello, wraith!

(heh, and the creature I took my AO3 handle from, so maybe this gives folks some insight as to why I chose that name now... manipulating TFW and readers from the inside since 2015... my new catch phrase I guess?)

They're Sam and Dean get admitted for telling the absolute truth, about the apocalypse, monsters, angels, demons.

SAM: Okay. Look...um...last few weeks, you've kind of been worrying me. DEAN: (rolls his eyes) Oh, come on, Sam. Stop. Look, just because we're in the loony bin doesn't give you the right to head-shrink me. SAM: Dean-- DEAN: Ellen and Jo dying--Yeah, it was a friggin' tragedy, okay? But I'm not gonna wallow in it. SAM: Dean, you always do this. You can't just keep this crap in. DEAN: (chuckles) Watch me.

Yeahhhhhhh... that won't lead to problems down the line... I mean, we've talked for years about Dean's chats with his psychiatrist, who turns out to be entirely a hallucination on his part, and just how flippant he is about his own problems, so I probably don't need to dwell on that here. Or on the fact that this is a Dabb episode, wherein it's made completely obvious that the doctor who tries to separate Dean and Sam for their own good, because they're "dangerously codependent" is thought for a good while to be the monster, partly because of that assessment... when like... he was completely innocent and literally just doing his job pointing out the obvious. Their codependence has broken the world how many times now? Yeah... they definitely really could do with some time apart.

(throws up in my mouth a little bit thinking about the conversation I accidentally got myself wrapped up in a week or two ago with people who were upset at the thought that Sam and Dean wouldn't end up sharing a heaven and like.... hoooooly fuck we see this show from very different perspectives...)

Meanwhile, some of the narrative manipulation can be summed up quite tidily through some of their interactions with other patients:

--the girl who wanders the halls randomly kissing them, first Dean, and then Sam, because he's bigger... --Ted and the other patients in Sam's group therapy session: TED: (lowers his hand) I am calm. And I'd very calmly like to talk about the monster that's hunting us. DR. FULLER: Ted, we're not going to have that discussion again. It's not good for group. TED: I agree. You know what else isn't good for group? A monster eating all our faces off. DR. FULLER: Alright, fine, thank you. Now, anyone else? TED: I saw it...when it killed Susan. OTHER PATIENT: I did, too. It had big lobster claws. TED: No, it didn't. OTHER PATIENT: Yeah, and it was an alien, like on X-Files. TED: Stop it. Stop helping. Listen to me. We're all dead! DR. FULLER: That's enough. (leans forward, taking off his glasses) There is no monster.

"STOP HELPING!" Ted says. Because the lies aren't actually helping here. The other patients are just making stuff up, whether for attention or because they can't help themselves, but Ted is actually telling the truth, which gets drowned out and dismissed as just more delusional ravings. And then he ends up as the wraith's next victim.

Truth, lies, what's the real story here? And how do you see the truth? In mirrors.

YOU SEE THE TRUTH IN MIRRORS.

Except, sometimes the wraith can even affect what you see in the mirror-- both about yourself and others. For example, even Dean's entirely mentally invented doctor shows up in the mirror with him. She makes Dr. Fuller appear as a wraith, fueling their mistaken belief that he's the monster. And then when the wraith is closing in on them and knows they're on to her, she makes EVERYONE appear as wraiths in the mirror so she can continue hiding in plain sight, while also driving Dean's paranoia through the roof.

Dean, trying to convince the doctor he's fine, she starts throwing all the accusations he's had burning guilty holes in him for a long time:

DR. CARTWRIGHT: Come on, even you don't believe that. All this pressure that you're putting yourself under, all this guilt; it's killing you. You can't save everybody. You can't. (her voice becomes hard) Hell, these days, you can't save anybody, Dean. (turns to leave) DEAN: What did you say? DR. CARTWRIGHT: (turns back to him) The truth, Dean. You got Ellen and Jo killed. You shot Lucifer, but you couldn't gank him. DEAN begins to get confused and a little afraid. DR. CARTWRIGHT: You couldn't stop Sam from killing Lilith, and--oh, yeah--you broke the first seal. All you do is fail. Did you really think that you, Dean Winchester with a GED and a give-'em-hell attitude, were gonna beat the devil? DEAN gets a little more afraid. DR. CARTWRIGHT: Please. The world is gonna burn, and there is nothing that you can do about it. DEAN: Who are you? (voice rising) How do you know that stuff?

but it's then that he begins to realize just how bad he's been messed with:

DR. CARTWRIGHT: I'm not real, Dean. I'm in your head...because you are going crazy.

and he literally goes and huddles in a corner, having completely lost his grip on reality.

Meanwhile, Sam gets confronted by the real doctor, and has his problems listed off to him:

SAM: Yeah. Thanks. I, um...I just wanted to apologize. I feel horrible about what I did to you. I thought you were a monster. DR. FULLER: I know that. The question is, why? SAM: I was...It doesn't matter, um...because after what happened last night, I had a...moment of clarity. I realized...there's no such thing as monsters. DR. FULLER: Well, I'm glad to hear you say that, but, honestly? Monsters are the least of your problems. People can learn to live with delusions, but the anger I saw in you...You hurt those two men, and you were going to kill me. The look in your eyes when you came after me, I...It was like you were barely even human...like a man possessed.

like a man possessed... lol >.> Again, how much is is foreshadowed that Sam is due for Bad Things, and Dean will be left collapsed by his own guilt and loss by the end of the season? Especially as Dean sits nearly catatonic at a table in the corner while Sam starts an imaginary fight inside his own mind and gets himself dragged off to isolation. Dean, however, is still coherent enough to put together the clues and hunt down the wraith despite being drugged and manipulated by her.

At first he mistakenly believes they were infected by Wendy the random kissing patient, but they arrive at her room in time to watch the actual wraith attack her. Martin creates a distraction and tells Dean that he needs to go kill the wraith, but he's received a MASSIVE dose of her venom and can barely walk. Yet he is determined.

MARTIN: You've gotta get out there and kill that thing. I'll take care of her. MARTIN'S voice echoes in DEAN'S ears. DEAN: (shakes his head) I can't. MARTIN: You have to. You have no choice, son. The two orderlies walk in and grab MARTIN, who fights back. The orderlies are distracted by MARTIN. MARTIN: Go. Dean, run! Run!

And what the wraith tells Sam is interesting, too:

SAM: You did this to me! THE WRAITH: Well, I helped. But that rage? No, no, no. That's all you. I don't make crazy. I just crank up what's already there. You build your own hell, but I give you the Legos. And when you're ripe... I make all of your problems disappear.

And this terrifies Sam, because he knows she's right:

SAM: She was right. DEAN: No, she wasn't. She's dead, okay? Let's hit the road. I need a drink, or twelve. SAM: Most of the time, I can hide it, but...I am angry. I'm mad at everything. I used to be mad at you and Dad, then Lilith, now it's Lucifer, and I make excuses. I blame Ruby or the demon blood, but it's not their fault. It's not them. It's me. It's inside me. I'm mad...all the time...and I don't know why. DEAN: Stop. Stop it. So what if you are? What are you gonna do? You gonna take a leave of absence? You gonna say yes to Lucifer? What? SAM: No, of course not. I-- DEAN: Exactly. And that's exactly what you're gonna do. You're gonna take all that crap and you're gonna bury it. You're gonna forget about it, because that's how we keep going! That's how we don't end up like Martin! Are you with me?

So... pushing it all down, not the best strategy for long-term mental health, but pushing anger down specifically? That's something Dean's spent a lifetime doing. Sam, maybe not so much. When Sam's gotten angry in the past, he makes a plan and removes himself from the situation-- running away from home as a kid, running away to Stanford, making a totally new life for himself and just pretending the Bad Things didn't happen at all. Dean, on the other hand, just puts his head down and continues plowing through the bad things head first like a bull. And honestly neither of these are great coping strategies in real life, but the fact that Sam is just... so baffled as to the source of his anger, when he doesn't WANT to be angry but has so much legitimate REASON to be angry, is just heartbreaking. He thinks it's a personal failing, though, instead of a rational response to being so horrifically manipulated his whole life.

When Dean's anger reaches a peak, he just lets himself explode and doesn't feel guilty about exploding after the fact, you know? Which makes the manipulation he suffered via the wraith all the more painful for him. He just takes it and keeps on plowing through. He'll have a valid excuse to let that anger out sooner or later.

Meanwhile, his guilt over all of this will power him through to the next manipulative adventure the narrative has in store.

[sapphicunicorn]

Year One: DNF

DNF at chapter fourteen. Back to the library!

This was my first, and possibly only, Nora Roberts. I just didn’t get it? And the writing style wasn’t my thing. There was a lot of repetition, like, the characters literally repeat what they just said. Literally repeat what they just said.

The characters weren’t interesting. The only two I liked were Arlys and Fred, and after skipping ahead, I saw they disappear later in the book and we continue to follow Lana. Boring, boring Lana. And there’s all this talk of The One and a random wizard straight out of a fantasy novel appears to lay down prophecy and I just… didn’t get it??? But the atmosphere was cool. The silence, the doom, the barbaric nature of men in a crisis. Yeah, it was depressing and I struggled to get through the chapters Arlys and Fred were in the subway tunnels. So for being a doomsday novel, the atmosphere was spot on.

State of Wonder: DNF

DNF around page 200-something. Back to the library, babe. I found the idea of the book intriguing, especially about big pharma business, but it doesn’t truly play into anything. It takes at least 200 pages for Marina to even get to the Amazon. The poor girl was in her forties, had enough life experiences that were glanced over, so you might think that she was compelling and complex and fleshed out as our main character. Nope. Marina was flat. The surrounding characters, especially two people who were described as bohemians and were supposed to be fun and quirky, were flat. The writing was flat. The pace was glacial. Flipping through the book, nothing changes. What should be exciting and overwhelming is described as drab and gray as a rain cloud. There are, I think, six pages of a hypothetical conversation that goes in circles. Marina never pops out as a real character, her entire purpose of going to the Amazon is pushed aside and forgotten. The ending was beyond dumb. I’ve been wanting to read The Magician’s Assistant for a long time and haven’t been able to find a Patchett book until now, but after State of Wonder, I’m not sure I actually want to read it now…

The Silent Patient: DNF

DNF at page 65. I couldn’t get into it. I couldn’t take Theo’s ego anymore, or the filler conversations that added no depth to characters. Or the way women were portrayed. I understand his ego plays into the story later on but wow. Just wow. The book mentions film rights, and I’m assuming it was written as a screenplay first and then turned into a novel.

Skimming ahead, the characters are wooden and women are overly sexualized beasts. Don’t get me wrong; I love women who embrace their need for satisfaction. We’re humans, too. But sex plays into betrayal, and just about every mention is either a bargaining chip or cheating in a relationship. Ew.

The twist is decent, not groundbreaking, but decent. Again, it plays into Theo’s massive ego. I’m just not sure it’s a good enough pay off for me to suffer through the whole thing. There were two (two and a half, three?) pages of text wall where Theo describes his dependency on marijuana. In college. Far in the past. Like, I get it. You had problems in your family and used drugs to escape. Do I need long walls of text of every tiny detail, including your own therapy sessions? No, I can figure out context clues.

Anyway, this thing is going back to the library. And maybe it’s just my version. The version my library has is an ARC. Maybe the full release was touched up?

Wish You Were Here: 2 ½ stars

Another day, another chick lit. Another book where the heroine doesn’t realize her worth until a man teaches her. The pace was break-neck, the writing wasn’t anything special. For a book that’s supposed to be emotional, there was a huge disconnect because none of the characters really felt anything. We were just told there was a lot of crying or smiling or squinting. But I guess the message was sweet?

The Royal Runaway: 2 ½ stars

I didn’t really feel one way or another about this book. There was no chemistry between Nick and Thea; neither one really had a personality, just a few traits. The plot was… silly? It started out as a legitimate mystery but didn’t last. The writing wasn’t anything special; Thea didn’t have a voice, didn’t explain herself or her surroundings. Everything was flat but it made for a quick, easy read.

The Face of Deception: 3 stars

There was always a trend of "one of the guys" women in cop thrillers during the 90s, and this book was no different. Except. Except it was kind of different. Eve isn't part of a police crew, she doesn't rub elbows with the FBI, doesn't carry a gun. She has more humanity than the other women I've read in this genre, and she's still recovering from the trauma of losing her child to a murderer. She's not a fan of violence. She's desperate to protect others, but she knows she doesn't need a gun to do it. Her weakness and vulnerability was a breath of fresh air compared to other women in her genre.

Sisters of Heart and Snow: 3 stars

What a genuinely cozy read! As much as I hate chick lit, I found myself gobbling this one up. The sisters kind of bored me, but Tomoe’s story kept me reading. And reading. And reading. And surprisingly, even though it’s chick lit, not everything was wrapped up in a neat little bow. Not every problem can be fixed.

Nearly Gone: 3 stars

Wait, a YA book that I actually liked??? The plot was enough to carry the book that the “supernatural” element of Nearly being able to feel emotions was pointless. Were there cliches? Sure. But I got duped! A YA that actually tricked me! I kinda have to like it. Oh, and the writing was nice; Nearly wasn’t a thirty year old narrator stuck in high school. But on the opposite side of the spectrum, Nearly really needs to get a life outside of her new boyfriend. Once again a high school heroine who throws her friends aside for the boyfriend.

[robbiwrites717]

Master list of my Davekat fic recs.( SFW LIST HERE ) I wanted to include my thoughts about each fic but it’s been well over a year since I read most of them and it would have been exhausting to read back through all of them so i just included the authors’ summaries instead. I have major respect for every fic and author on this list, seriously they’re amazing <3 Happy Reading !

All I Know Are Sad Songs - by ayyyy(RosaAquafire) - Alpha TImeline - Ch 36/?-  122731 words

The world is ending. Dave Strider can't tell if the bender he's on is because of that, or because of how bad stuff is fucked up with Rose, or just because his own bullshit has finally caught up to him. All he knows is that if the world DOES end today, maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing.Of course, he can't throw in the towel. His fate is already written. He raises a resistance. He duels the false presidents. He stands against the Empress herself. So maybe that's why Skaia allows a glitch that carries a consciousness across sessions that might save Dave's shitty life. (this is the only fic I’ll put my own notes on because it is absolutely and unequivocally my favorite fic ever. I almost didn’t read it because of the tags but the author handles every issue so seriously and beautifully, I can not stess enough how amazing this fic is!!!)

A wish upon a fountain or a falling start - by twofoldaxiom - Fantasy AU - Ch 25/25 - 51379 words

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you fell from the sky.You hadn't meant to; you were trying to make a wish by catching a fallen star by the tail. The star turned out to be stronger than you. Now, on Earth, alone and unsure of yourself, what can you do except find someone who might believe? And what do you do when you yourself start to question?

a fever you’re learning to live with - by callmearcturus - post sburb/sgrub - Ch 1/1 - 3974 words 

This feels like winning. You are learning to live with the feeling more and more, like building up a poison resistance.

A Stunning Tour De Force - by Rag - Earth C - Ch 1/1 - 5101 words

"A triumph."

-Dave Strider, about getting his dick sucked for the first time

All I Can Taste Is The Sugar In Your Hair - by LandofMistandSecrets - Earth C - Ch 1/1 - 13614

Trickster Dave is a god damn treasure and no one can tell me otherwise.Some scenes from the Rosemary wedding, but really, this is about Dave being high on cherub candy and really, really, really wanting his boyfriend to fuck him. (Not intended to be dubcon, but if you have issues with altered mental states or pushy partners in the context of an established relationship it might be not great for you! Take care.)

Alternia Shuffle - by Essynkardi & twofoldaxiom - 1950s/detective AU- Ch 2/? - 4646 words

Your name is Dave Strider, and you're a twenty-six year old detective working for the Alternia City Police Department as senior officer Pyrope's partner and occasional chewtoy. It's already a messy job, but it gets messier when you end up the sole witness to an assassination during an art exhibit.Now you have to simultaneously cover your ass and uncover all the clues to find out who did it and who could be next, and things only get more complicated when you have to face a few things you've been covering up yourself.

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Guy With Slightly More Self-Esteem - by LandofMistandSecrets - Earth C- Ch 1/1 - 7347 words 

Dave is really attracted to his boyfriend, and determined to prove it.

Believe M When I Say Fuck - by Rag - earth c - Ch 1/1 - 4997 words

karkat goes and fucks himself

By the Letter (of the law) -  by Asuka Kureru(Askerian) - Ch 4/4 - 10582 words 

"No, but answer me this, do you want to invalidate this whole farce of a legal and religious joining of blah-di-fucking-blah? Because I have looked at your laws and if we don't consummate the union it's not valid!"

Anonymous asked: Davekat. Arranged marriage! The first time they are alone together is on their wedding night.

Now with actual sex, woo! Also several pages of Karkat and Dave being the dorkiest knights ever knighted.

Dave Strider Has Abs - by Miriage - High School AU (not explicit but i forgot to put it on my sfw list :/)

"Your name is Karkat Vantas and you’re mad.You’re really really really fucking mad.You’re mad because Dave-fucking-Strider has abs.Has serious abs.Has abs that you could grate shit on.Has abs that would make girls fall over and die.Has abs that gay men would weep for."

Dive in Deeper - by carnivorousBelvedere - Vacation AU - Ch 4/7 - 8298

Karkat is going on vacation during his birthday with Rose and Kanaya. They gift him a scuba certification class.The catch?Dave is taking it with him.

egg pun - by Rag - earth c - Ch 1/1 - 4518 words

dave and karkat explore the magical world of eggs

Flight Recorder From Viking 7 - by Royalrastafariannaynays - Space/Future/Pilots AU - Ch 7/7 - 31136 words

Dave Strider is a way-too-lonely transport pilot assigned to a high-pay low-stakes mission over the Christmas holiday. He's got a blistering hangover, a conscience full of nightmares, and an angry copilot. All he needs now is a nice bout of feeling worthless and-- well would ya look at that, he's got that, too. Time for takeoff, Houston, the water's just fine.Or: In which Dave Strider discovers a modicum of self worth while stuck on a trip through foreign space, with a short, irritable, and annoyingly attractive troll as his only conversational partner for the next two weeks.

Helter Skelter - by HexMeridan(myrainbowshoelaces) - post sburb-sgrub - Ch 1/1 - 6281 words

Dave gets a visit from Future Dave, and between the two of them, they give Karkat the night of his life. Over and over again.

Hit the Deck: A davekat fic- by awkwardfawn - restaurant AU - Ch 15/? - 68875 words

I present a story in which Karkat works at a restaurant where you're supposed to be rude to the customers. It's sort of the gimmick there. Normally he can handle what he's given at work and give it right back, but this just might be the straw that breaks the load. Little does our kitkat know that Dave can dish the shit better than anyone out there. Sarcastic adult boys will be sarcastic. I hope this will be as slow burning as I want it to be, but then again it probably won't.

Inveterate - by Rag - earth C - Ch 1/1 - 4441 words 

dave and karkat try bdsm

it goes well until it doesnt

Just A Thing We Do - by LandofMistandSecrets - Earth C - Ch 1/1 - 14941 words 

“Apparently, you inspired him to try initiating amorous… activities… over these stupid devices!” Karkat waved his phone at him, punctuating the accusation. “Do you actually just casually proposition Dirk while he’s busy with other people?!”Jake shot him a wide-eyed look, freezing halfway through shoveling a handful of popcorn in his mouth. He slowly lowered his hand, blinking rapidly, eyebrows furrowing behind his glasses. “I -- well, what’s that to any of you, exactly?”(Or, as I have been calling it, The DaveKat Sexting Fic. ENJOY)

Love Bites - by notwest - earth c - Ch 1/1 - 2366

What if hickeys were the first mark on Dave's body he liked?

Midnight on the Demon Patrol - by Asuka Kureru(Askerian) - Ch 30/? - 233688 words

Fighting fire with fire is okay in theory but Detective-Summoner Dave L. Strider figures trying to summon corporeal demons to the mortal plane to fight other demons is likely to backfire spectacularly. Sadly for him his inner Knight gets the vapors at the thought of letting anyone else play guinea pig.Yup, he is totally hogging the demon. What could go wrong? (Oh no, Dave, why did you have to think that.)

Red Converse - by MageofHeart - Humanstuck AU - Ch 16/16 - 26648 words

Due to a seizure, Karkat Vantas now has to learn how to live his life with two speech aphasia. He goes to therapy three times a week, suffers from awful headaches, and tries to avoid people as much as possible.Due to a traumatic experience, Dave Strider refuses to use his words, preferring to relay his snarky comments and witty banter through sign language and typing on his phone.They meet in a waiting room.

Sugar and Spice - by Dawngyocry - Humanstuck/Coming of Age Fic - Ch 2/2 - 44734 words

You remember the first time you really realized you were fucked up.You were five. First year of kindergarten, miserable as all fuck. The teacher told the boys to line up on one side of the room and the girls on the other. You don't even remember why. You just remember the result.

Sunday Morning - Nomisupernova - earth c - Ch 1/1 - 3561 words

“Hey Dave?” You rest your arm at your side, his hand finds yours and he entwines his fingers with yours. His ring clinks against your ring and it makes your heart skip a beat to think about it.He looks at you, blinking sleepily, “Yes Karkat?”“I love you.”He laughs softly, a beautiful sound to your ears, “I love you too, Kar.”

The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway - by ectoBisexual - ski lodge AU - Ch 1/1 - 4128 words

During a trip to a ski lodge with their friends, Dave and Karkat end up stuck in an elevator. It sucks, but it's not the worst thing in the world. Until the power goes out and it starts to get really, really cold.

The Eurydice Suite - by callmearcturus - post sburb/sgrub - Ch 15/15 - 97103 words

Dream-sharing. A highly illegal little industry in which agents delve into people's dreams and unearth their deepest secrets and memories. And the Strider-Lalondes are the best in the business.Until Dirk Strider gets his fool ass trapped within the confines of his own subconscious, with his Auto-Responder playing malicious prison warden. To save him, it's going to take a team of the world's most talented dreamers to save him.Backed by the token rich friend, lead by the surliest extractor ever bribed out of retirement, haunted by the shade of the l8est and gr8est agent 

The Finer Points Of Plantsitting - by LandofMistandSecrets - Earth C - Ch 1/1 - 9323 words 

Jade & Davepeta are taking off on a presumably romantic weekend retreat. Dave and Karkat are left in charge of the plants.It's just one weekend. There's no way this goes wrong.Or, uh. Gets weird. Right???

The Sex Number - by ayyyy(RosaAquafire - earth c = Ch 1/1 - 3788 words

CG: IS OR IS THERE NOT ANY SOCIETAL OR CULTURAL SIGNIFICANCE TO THE NUMBER 69?

TT: Ah, yes.

TT: The sex number.

TT: This is where I slowly wink.

CG: OH, CHRIST. 

What To Do When You See Your Best Bro Naked - by Miriage - College/female kk AU - Ch 2/2 - 7464 words

"Still, when you walked out of the bathroom with a towel around your waist and a smaller one ruffling your black hair, you weren’t expecting him to be there and he wasn’t expecting you to be wearing sans almost nothing."A story in which Dave Strider falls in love after he sees Karkat Vantas naked.(Also, Karkat has AA boobs and Dave is into it.) 

[fairstarlights]

Crush

Pairings: Prinxiety 

Summary: Developing feelings for anyone is a journey, no matter who you are or who you are falling for

Chapter Word Count: 1,863

Genre: Romance/Angst

General Story Warning: None 

Notes: Enjoy!

Having a crush can be one of two things, something incredibly difficult and painful or absolutely wonderful to experience. The day I met you, I didn't experience either of those things. My best friend introduced me to you. 

I didn't understand how you both were friends. You were rude, sarcastic and sometimes said or did the most hurtful thing's that leave me reeling for days. It took several months and many fights later to learn how you worked. You would never apologize for your wrong doings and I never understood it. Until one day, I saw it.

After one fight I was sure we wouldn't recover from, you approached me the next day and I'm not sure how I never saw it before. It was in your eyes. I could see the apology hidden in those guarded dark cloudy brown eyes of yours. I could see the words that you couldn't seem to form with your mouth. It was subtle but it was enough. I always forgave you even before I saw your apologetic eyes. You seemed to understand my forgiveness as well because we both would just look at each other and understand.

Acquaintances turned into friends. I invited you over to my house to hang out. We watched Disney movies and ate junk food. That was until one of us decided to make a off handed snarky comment about the movie. It was usually two or three movies in before you would make a comment about consent or some hidden dark theme Disney was trying to put in. It made me furious and at first I would stop the movie and we would heatedly argue until it dissolved out of the Disney movie and into other matters. You would always storm out like a child and I wasn't any better as I threw whatever snack was on the table at the wall.

After months of pleading, I got you to invite me over to your house. It was a lot smaller than my place but it was homey and inviting. You grumbled and told me not to look so surprised and I couldn't help but laugh. You excused yourself and went into another room for a few minutes. I took the time to look around and noticed pictures of you and my, well, now both of our best friends. You looked to be somewhere in New York, playing the guitar with a soft smile on your face and the other was standing beside of you playing the keyboard.

You came back out and I turned to ask you about the picture but the words died on my lips. You were no longer wearing long sleeves or a hoodie. In my whole year of knowing you, I had never seen any skin below your neck. You frowned at me and told me to stop staring then asked me if I wanted pizza. We learned we both loved poetry and spent most of the evening reading some of the many poetry books you had collected over the years. That night went well.

Friendship turned into best friends. We had spent a lot of time together. We hadn’t ignore everyone else and we all did things together too but, they had all seemed to understand that we liked to hang out alone sometimes. Probably more frequently than either of us would have liked to actually admit. I started spending more time at your house than my own. You seemed to be more relaxed and yourself. What was great was that our fights were fewer and you actually smiled more comfortable around me now. Your brown eyes were still guarded but slowly lowering every time I was able to make your flat line lips turn upwards. My heart fluttered in joy every time. Progress.

Friendship turned into pining. I still don't know when that had started. I would lay in bed for hours thinking about your smile and the little laugh you would do. The way you would shyly hide it behind the palm of your hand and the way your shoulders would shake as you tried to hold it in. My insides felt like gymnastic competitors practicing for the upcoming Olympics. 

When you had actually laughed, for real, it was like a heavenly choir. I knew I would never tire of hearing it and I had wanted to hear it all of the time. Unfortunately, the that laugh had never come from anything I had said. It had come from when the group was together. I had longed for the day that I could be the one to made that sound come from you. That laugh was heavenly, bliss and pure happiness. I wanted to give you that.

Pining turned into love. It took time. We had our struggles as just best friends. I learned about your anxiety. As much time as we had spent together I had never seen you have an attack before. When I had come over as usual and knocked and you hadn’t answered right away I knew something had to have been up. I knocked a few more times and waited. I had known you were home because you had texted me twenty minutes prior saying you were making dinner. I reached up under the mat and pulled out the spare key and unlocked the door. I found you on the couch. It was a sight to see and I hadn’t a clue what was going on at first. I dialed our familiar friends number and he coached me through how to calm you down. In breath for four seconds, hold seven, out eight. You seemed okay. Embarrassed but okay but I think I could tell, very thankful.

You were a new person with me after that. Your eyes were less cloudy and guarded. Your smiled more often than usual and things I said actually made you laugh. It wasn't quite the same laugh as you did with the group at times but it to me, it was a starting point and I was going to drink every drop from the cup you gave me and refilled.

A year later you had to move away due to your health. Everyone cried, including me. I never got to confess my feeling for you and now it was too late. You were leaving and I couldn't follow. You promised everyone you would stay in touch. I watched you board the plane. I watch it take off. I watch it till it was just a speck in the sky and then out of sight.

You kept your promise to stay in touch. We Face-timed everyday when you weren't at doctors appointments, in therapy or doing whatever is you were doing. You wouldn't actually tell any of us but we didn't push. You would tell us in time if you wanted. You never did.

Two more years had went by and our friendship never faltered. If anything, it soared higher than the tallest mountain. Your laughter had been boisterous and uncovered by any hands. Your smile glowed and sent me reeling again, this time in the best way and it only magnified when it stretched so far that it actually showed your teeth. You still had your bad days and when you did I read you poetry like we did when I first went your house. On the days poetry didn't work, I sang to you as you cried on the other side and every time my heart shattered a little bit. If I could have only held you. I loved you so much. If you only knew.

One day, I knew I couldn't hold it anymore. I had to tell you how I felt. Distance didn't matter. You wouldn't be there forever and I would wait any length of time for you. I loved you so much. So I started working.

Our video call started the same time it usually did. It was right after your group therapy session and you were all smiles as your face popped up on the camera. Although as you looked at me your face faulted a bit and asked me why I looked so nervous. I laughed it off and said it was nothing. You looked skeptical but didn't push it. I hadn't wanted to throw it out there just yet.

We talked and laughed for a bit before falling into a comfortable silence. Sometimes when this happened one of us would turn on music. I never did get the chance before you had got up, grabbed your Ipod and played Classical Disney. Something you never did before me. We sat there for a few songs and enjoyed the company of each other.

Eventually I worked up the courage and said I had to confess something. I had written you a poem. You looked surprised, but pleasantly so and encouraged me to read it to you. Your eyes held excitement, your smile seemed to reach your eyes, and the butterflies in my stomach grew.

I began to read aloud my feelings that I had transforms into rhythmic words on paper. I had gazed up a few times to see your reaction. It seemed with every line, you had started to look less excited. By the time I had finished my work, you still had a smile on your face but it not long reached your eyes like it had before.

The silence that had followed was painful but I waited patiently for your response. The hand holding that  had held the poem, now out of sight of the camera, was shaking violently. Finally you spoke, you voice has been so soft, quiet. You told me it was was well written and clearly took time and effort. I had told you thank you. More silence had followed after that, then your smile turned sad and I was sure I was sure the dam in my eyes were going to burst.

You told me you were asexual and that you could not give me what I needed. That our kind of love would have never worked out. I wanted to yell, scream, cry, tell you that I didn't care. All I wanted was you. Just to be around you was enough. Just seeing you was enough. Hearing you was enough. I hadn't trusted my voice enough to say anything. That was foolish of me.

I hadn't noticed the tears down my face till it was too late. I couldn't have stopped them anyway. You looked lost and the smile was gone. I had ruined it. I had to fix this. Once I had composed myself, I said the stupidest and most hurtful words that could have ever came out of my mouth. Friends? You hadn't replied back right away and I feared I had permanently ruined it until: Friends. You had said, with a nod and a smile.

We sat in silence for twenty-six more minutes, listening to more Classical Disney before you had looked at your watch and said it was time for another session. It was. We had exchanged goodbyes, promised to video chat again at the same time at a later hour per usual. We told each other to stay safe and the call ended.

I had never cried harder or been more crushed.

General tag list:

@steampoweredskeleton

[tisfan]

parenting whilst having mental health issues

Dear Nonny, 

Okay, first things first... if you’re having a lot of trouble coping with your life, and your symptoms and your baby/child, PLEASE get help or have some sort of actual support group. I have a lot of trouble talking to people about my own mental issues, but I did find that online therapy was a lot of help for me. I could email my therapist, or have skype sessions with her at my convenience and I didn’t have to get geared up enough to drive into an office. Some of these services are covered by some health insurance, and even when they’re not, for what it is, the service is not horribly expensive. (like $180 a month, which really, for the amount of time my therapist was available to me -- we exchanged fairly long emails 2-3 times a week... good deal.)

Set up your therapy, meals, and any meds you have to take with an app on your phone -- I actually use a program called Clean My House, (some of my other friends use Clue, I haven’t tried it, but they seem to like it) which sets me up for keeping up my housekeeping as well, and you can add in all the other stuff you need to do. I have a colorful checklist and reminders that pop up daily. There are others, find the reminder app that works for you, and if you can’t manage to do it, see if you can get someone to help you, or set it up for you. 

Remember that your child is not there to make you feel bad. A lot of times, people feel bad when they’re not parenting to society’s expectations -- that’s normal even for people who don’t have mental health problems. Our society has a LOT of expectations for mothers in specific and tends to be very unforgiving. Try to put that aside. Your love for your child is independent of your depression/issues. You don’t love them any less because you have issues, no more than someone who’s got cancer loves their kid any less just because they have to go to chemo all the time.

Remember that good enough is GOOD ENOUGH. You don’t have to cook meals every day, or the dishes can sit in the sink. Try to keep prepackaged foods around that your children can handle themselves, if they’re old enough. Or that are easy for you to give them if they’re not. Poptarts, oatmeal, sandwiches, squeeze tubes of yogurt.  

When you’re feeling up to it, slice fruits or vegetables and put them in serving/cooking sizes in the freezer. Lots of recipes call for chopped onions. Chop 2-3 onions at a time and put the spares in 1 cup baggies in the freezer. Cook a whole rack of chicken breasts at once, use what you need, freeze the rest. You can set up whole “meal kits” this way. Grab a precooked chicken, veggies, and a sauce, and heat. Easy, healthy, takes advantage of your energy when you have it.

Do parts of things: no energy to run a whole laundry cycle; throw it in the wash today, dry tomorrow, fold on Sunday. Small steps.

You can usually do ANYTHING for 15 minutes. Set a timer, spent 15 minutes getting the dishes put away (or washed, or whatever) and then you can sit down for a while. If you get 3 15 minute sessions done in a day, give yourself a gold star. YOU DID GOOD.

Keep post it notes everywhere. Write down important events (school events, doctor appointments) so you don’t forget. keep the notes in a central location. I find the act of using a pen helps me remember. YMMV.

When you get up in the morning, get dressed. It’s a little act, but honestly, I find it a lot easier to go to the store/doctor/whatever if I’m already dressed, rather than having to get up, get dressed, get organized, and THEN do the chore. It makes it so much easier to blow if off if I haven’t made it out of bed.

Lay your clothes out at night, this helps with getting dressed in the morning.

Make a plan: if you have a friend who can come over and watch your kids, let them know you have issues and sometimes, if they’re willing, you need them to come over and take your kids for an hour while you cry, or sleep, or whatever it is.

If you have a spouse/partner MAKE them take their turn with childcare. You cannot be everything to everyone.

Good luck, Nonny.

[preeshera]

If Love Be Blind

Angsty multi-chapter love square monstrosity (you have been warned)

I would be nowhere without my lovely Beta - Bell

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

“You realize I am a doctor too, right?!” the psychologist exclaimed, flushed with anger, as he fought a losing battle to maintain his composure.

“Whatever you say, Marcus,” scoffed a man in lab coat and stormed out of the office. The doctor closed his office door harshly to hide his embarrassment.

He marched back to his desk and sat down forcefully, knocking over his favorite picture frame and breaking it into pieces. Merde. Now this. He swept the shards off his work notepad, muttering angrily.

“Not a real doctor? NOT A REAL DOCTOR? That arrogant ass!”

They underestimate you, don’t they?

What? Had someone entered his office? He looked around but the door was still firmly shut.

They ridicule you, laugh at you.

He could feel his anger bubbling up again.

No more, I say! My name is Hawkmoth, and I can give you the power to take revenge. All I ask in return is two little trinkets…

What do you think of my offer – Dr. Mind Control?

A regular cloudy Parisian afternoon found the Collège Françoise Dupont as it usually was – busy and bustling with students.

“Come on, Marinette! We’ll be late!” Alya hollered, already halfway down the corridor from the homeroom class as Marinette was trying her best to catch up.

“But Alya, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, I didn’t know you were so passionate about the environment…” Marinette smiled at her friend sheepishly, once she finally caught her.

Alya was clearly excited, what with her near jog and all the hand waving, but Marinette didn’t really understand. Sure, the big shipment of chemicals being delivered through Parisian streets was a big deal – there was a proper protest organized and everything – but Mayor Bourgeoise assured everyone that the security was of utmost priority. Besides, Marinette mused as she ran to keep up with her excited best friend, this just didn’t seem to be the kind of topic that would get Alya this heated up.

“Of course I am passionate!” Alya declared resolutely. “Why – wouldn’t the protest be a perfect opportunity for Ladybug and Chat Noir to make an appearance?”

Aha! Voila, there it was. The true motive! Marinette sighed, but then smiled indulgently at her friend.

“Okay, okay. I mean, what are best friends for, right?”

Alya grinned cheekily and hooked her elbows with Marinette.

“Right you are Mari!”

The girls made it just in time to see the procession of several large container trucks accompanied by a queue of police cars. The gathering of protestors along the main street was a bit loud, but Marinette noted gratefully that it looked peaceful, couple of rather rude placards aside, and didn’t think anyone looked angry enough to attract Hawkmoth’s attention.

She smiled at Alya, who was snapping pictures left and right and clearly in her element. Hopefully her friend won’t be too disappointed if Ladybug didn’t show…

A loud screeching sound tore Marinette out of her reverie. She turned around with growing dread.

Of-fucking -course. She just had to jinx it.

A man hovered above the line of trucks and police cars, flying in a throne-like office chair, dressed in an outfit that looked like a real-life optical illusion, and cackling manically.

Marinette sighed and stole a quick glance to Alya. Luckily, her friend was preoccupied by the commotion. She ducked into the nearest alley and dove behind a dumpster after a quick glance around the area. She opened her purse and hissed: “Tikki, we’ve got a problem!”

The tiny red kwami looked up at her with worried blue eyes.

“What is it Marinette? What’s wrong?”

“Akuma, Tikki. Quick, spots on!”

Her transformation flowed over her in a stream of pink light and Marinette let it take over, enjoying the pleasant rush that came with Tikki’s presence surrounding her.

Disguised as Ladybug she appeared from behind the dumpster fully suited and ran back towards the street, quickly dialing Chat’s number and leaving him a message to come as fast as he could.

The akuma was wreaking havoc, though Marinette couldn’t figure out exactly how at first. The formerly peaceful protest had turned into a full-blown riot in the short while she took to transform. Marinette just couldn’t understand it. It was only once she noticed the unnatural, blood red eyes on one of the protester’s faces that it hit her – they were all being controlled!

“Well, well, if it isn’t Paris’ favorite superheroine!” The akuma screeched as he turned his attention to her. She quickly shot her yo-yo at a nearby aerial and pulled herself up on a rooftop to get away from the frenzied crowd and behind a cooling unit on the rooftop to pull out the communicator screen of her yo-yo. Chat still wasn’t picking up.

“Where are you, Chaton?” Marinette whispered to herself.

“The famous Ladybug, hiding, while the citizens of Paris are in danger? I sense some confidence issues! Tut-tut. A therapy session or two, and you’ll be right as rain!” the akuma announced as he rounded the rooftop and came face to face with Marinette.

Ugh, the suit was painful to look at. Marinette had to avert her eyes – optical illusions always gave her a headache.

“I am Dr. Mind Control, give up your Miraculous Ladybug and no one will get hurt!”

Marinette groaned. Not this spiel again. She pushed down her uneasiness and glared at the akuma. The blood red irises that met her were extra freakish, but not as freakish as the book in his hands – a therapy notepad, but pitch black with a single glowing red eye on it.

That’s it! That must be where the butterfly is hiding.

“Give up your miraculous, Ladybug, or Paris will suffer!”

“I am afraid that’s impawsible,” came a cheeky reply. The akuma spun on his chair to glare at Mari’s very own smirking partner.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Dr. Mind Control sneered, but Chat Noir’s grin didn’t waver.

“Need a helping paw, my Lady?”

“Chaton,” Marinette groaned, but she was glad to see her partner there. Fighting akumas on her own always made her a bit uneasy. “Stay focused! The akuma is in his notepad, we need to get to it – stat!”

“Last chance, Ladybug!” The akuma threatened, obviously not happy about being ignored.

Marinette hopped up onto the air conditioning unit she previously hid behind and threw her yo-yo at the akuma’s chair. Quickly pulling herself in, she tried to knock the notepad out of his hands, but he was expecting her.

“My Lady, no!” Chat screamed as the book glowed red, ready to pull Ladybug under the akuma’s control.

She dodged.

Plummeting to the ground, she barely managed to use her yoyo and veer quickly in opposite direction in time. By the skin of her neck the vibrating beam of the akuma’s power missed her and exploded against the building behind her.

Thank kwamis for all Ladybug’s luck.

She rolled onto a different rooftop and barely got to her feet before the akuma was shooting at her again. Dodging and swerving from rooftop to rooftop Mari Ladybug completely lost sight of her partner. Only when she dodged another one of the too-close-for-comfort attacks did she realize her companion was nowhere to be seen.

“Chat, a little help?” She cast her eyes wildly all around for the black of his suit. At last she spotted him on the street underneath. Only then did Marinette realize her partner had his hands more than full. While she was dancing around dodging Dr. Mind Control’s attacks, he had to deal with the raging crowd below. Ladybug’s stomach dropped at the sight of the mass of civilians bashing the large canisters full of chemicals that were towed on the trucks below her with whatever they could find.

Merde, merde, merde, MERDE!

“I’ve got my claws full, LB!” Chat yelped as Marinette just barely dodged another black beam. This wouldn’t do.

“Lucky Charm!” She threw her yo-yo up in the air, and air crackled with power.

A soft, silky scarf landed in her out-stretched hand. What the…?

She was just about to look around for clues when a resounding clamor from below drew her attention. Chat Noir was getting overwhelmed while the civilians were getting close to damaging the cistern. She had to get down there, but the akuma with his aerial advantage was proving way too tricky. Screw it, she really needed some time to figure out her Lucky charm!

Mari could hear sirens – police, or the fire service, or hopefully both, but they were too far away to help yet. She growled in frustration as she dove in between buildings and landed on the pavement next to Chat, knocking the mind-controlled civilians to the ground.

“Thanks for the assist, Bugaboo, things were getting a bit hairy down here.” Chat grinned.

“What did I tell you about calling me Bugaboo, you alley cat?”

“Meowch, my Lady, you wound me!” Chat exclaimed theatrically, throwing his clawed hands over his heart before waving them around again, laughing at his own antics.

The bubbling laugh transformed midway out of Marinette’s mouth into a gurgled gasp. You see, the akuma did not take kindly to being ignored, and he used their distraction to his advantage. In the split-second Mari wasn’t on high alert, a beam of black light shot right by her and hit Chat square in his chest.

The smile melted off his face as his eyes turned crimson.

“Chat, NO!” Marinette screamed, but to no avail. Her friend wasn’t there anymore.

“Now, now, Ladybug. Where were we? It’s rude to run out on your doctor!”

Chat hunched menacingly, and Mari took an instinctive step back. And as if all this wasn’t enough, the people she had knocked down were starting to stir and get back up on their feet. She shot out her yo-yo and quickly pulled herself up on one of the trucks. She needed to get to higher ground, fast.

With dread, Marinette realized Chat’s claws were doing a right number on the metallic containers beside her, and while she dodged away unscathed, the truck had started to sprout leaks. The pressure in the large container caused the chemical inside to shoot out forcefully through every small opening. Dr. Mind Control laughed manically as air filled with screams of civilians hurt by the leaking chemicals. The few remaining outside akuma’s control were trying to help, but it just wasn’t enough. Ladybug looked around frantically, trying to find something to aid her. The sound of sirens was getting closer, and she hoped against hope that the sorely needed help would arrive with it.

Her earing gave a warning beep and she looked down at the silk scarf, still clutched uselessly in her hand. She had to think of something!

“Get her, Chat Noir!” the akuma commanded, but Ladybug, distracted by looking around for clues, reacted too slow. The familiar arms of her partner, now harsh and unforgiving, circled her. In one swift move Chat brought her down to the ground with a heavy slam. One of his clawed hands circled her neck while the other posed to strike.

“Unmask her.” The akuma ordered coldly.

The black aura of cataclysm surrounded Chat’s hand and Marinette yelped, casting her gaze up helplessly to catch his unseeing blood red eyes. Please. Look at me. Snap out of it. She struggled underneath him but he was too strong.

“Chat, stop it! Chaton, please! It’s me, it’s your Lady!” she begged, tears welling in her eyes against her will, as she writhed against his crushing grip.

However, her Chat was not there. The last thing she saw was a streak of black on red as pain like lightning exploded in her head. His claws came down on her face, and a burning, horrible sensation spread from her eyelids where his cataclysm first made contact.

“Get away from her you monster!” a familiar voice screamed, and with a heavy wet whoosh Chat’s weight was lifted off her. She struggled to pry her eye open. Finally, her eyelids lifted heavily. Everything was blurry and hurting, her ears were ringing, and she was dripping wet for some reason. The sirens. It must be the firefighters. Of course, Marinette thought hazily, they brought out the power hose.

“Ladybug, can you hear me? Ladybug?” Alya, sweet, beautiful Alya was clutching her by the shoulders. “Ladybug, are you – are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Her vision swam, fluttery and unclear, her world a mass of swirling black spots and pounding excruciating pain. She couldn’t answer.

“Your suit…!” Alya whispered, voice quiet and horrified like Mari had never heard it before – and when her gaze dropped to her own trembling hands she could see her bare fingertips as the ladybug suit slowly crumbled. Tikki was losing her hold on the transformation.

“Please, please hold out. I will be back.” She tried to sound brave but her voice shook.

She had to run. Diving into the nearest alley she left the sounds of struggle behind, as the fire department waged a losing battle on an akuma and a corrupted superhero. They needed Ladybug, but she couldn’t help them. Crying, she fled.

Her suit crumbled of her feet and legs as she ran. She ran as fast as she could, ignoring the growing black spots in her sight, ignoring the pain, she ran to the only place she knew she could get help. Master Fu. Marinette could feel the shreds of the suit falling off her shoulders. Her time was almost up. The familiar weight of her mask disappeared just as she came up to the door of Master Fu’s shop. She saw a bright red dot drop lifelessly into her outstretched palm. She clutched her kwami to her chest as she banged on the door, streams of hot tears running down her face.  Her whole world narrowed down to a soft fluttery pulse in her palm. Her kwami, her companion, her Tikki.

“Marinette?” The look of surprise on Master Fu’s old face was lost on the girl. His eyes ran up and down her shaking frame and widened; she looked a sight – dripping wet, crying and bloody, with shreds of spotted armor still falling down around her. “Oh child, come in.”

“Master I can’t-” Marinette sobbed. “– I can’t see…”

----

TBC