#also just realized i'm shaking because i played for five hours straight and need to eat an actual meal

[cheriekos]

i cannot start another multi chap fic i cannot start another multi chap fic i cannot start another multi chap fic i cannot start another multi chap i cannot start another multi chap fic i cannot

[are-we-really-doing-this]

YESS hi i was there too wtf! (snw) Who were you most excited to see, who did you enjoy the most? my favs were slaughter, system and slipknot :) literally still buzzing over how happy i from being able to go to a center where so many of my favorite bands were altogether

FUCKIN SICKKKKK (heh). Forgive me, past couple days have been wild. Definitely was most excited for Danny Elfman, Slaughter, Primus, and of course SOAD.

Debrief under cut is a little long. Forgive me again, I kinda just word vomited the full rundown.

I wasn't so stoked for Slipknot at first because pffttt I'm over that shit. But the day before, I saw that photo of Corey in the old mask and boiler suit and I was like 'oh, it's on like Donkey Kong'. There is a reason they are a reliable touring act. Fantastic.

What also helped was the ordeal leading up to it. I was on my feet for all of Danny Elfman AND Bring Me the Horizon which I didn't even realize was happening until their video package full of lore started and I was like 'no, please, don't do this to me' but I stood through it all, the ballads, a surprise guest appearance from Baby Metal, and a long pause for injury cleanup, so Slipknot was an absolute saving fucking grace. They were so tight too, I have a feeling it was some of the best Knot people have had in a long time.

Speaking of Danny Elfman, he was fucking fantastic. He played my favorite Boingo song and the Simpson's theme and that's really all I needed. Plus he was all old man sexy which is a big win for me.

Slaughter was BONKERS. Just fucking crazy, but you already know that. When Alex took off that damn mask to show off the white contact, I knew it was gonna be a good time. Dudes in the crowd were growling, and he even paused a couple times when he thought someone was in danger, calling security and such. He is such a wholesome motherfucker, when he was done doing his grizzly bear impression and bashing his forehead in with a microphone until he bled, he got all cute blowing kisses and talking about how we were all united with music in that one moment.

Primus was a fun little romp. No Shake Hands with Beef but we did get Pudding Time and John The Fisherman.

Wednesday 13 was the first act I saw and I'm so fucking glad I got there in time, damn shame they had him out so early.

Helmet and Fear Factory were mixed like shit and it made me very sad but what can you do.

Dope was a pleasant surprise, as was PM5K.

By the end of the night I had to find a picnic table to take a nap on before massaging my piss soaked feet to somewhat ease the pain of standing for 13ish hours so I could make it to the nearest taxi line which was still sadistically long. Oh yeah I pissed my pants during Horizon because the lines for the bathrooms were fuckoff long. The air was so fucking arid that they were dry in like 3 hours so it was all chill, thing is that air does not penetrate boots so again, wet pissy sweaty socks did not smell nice.

Ultimately I think the idea of a one-day festival with that many bands is a great idea for Vegas, not just for the novelty but also because otherwise it's a logistical nightmare. 85k people in and out of one place is not something aaaaaanyone wants to do two days in a row with the local heat and traffic and prices, let alone four or five days. See this is the best deal because you can get there, blow your load, and then do Vegas shit for a day or two or just straight up duck.

Bonus story. I dipped during SOAD's set after two songs because I knew there was no fucking way I was getting out of there after that. I limped out of there to Prison Song and while I was walking to the hotel where I was catching my dumbass cab, I was kinda surrounded by a small hoard of exhausted metalheads. We could all hear their set crystal fucking clearly from the street and Arials was playing. I was singing. Then I heard other festival goers singing. The security on the sidewalk was singing. It was like a cult procession walking down into a river chanting hymns, it was a beautiful moment. I pretty much watched their whole set from the street, all the way until Toxicity and Chop Suey. I made it through the whole thing on one pad too, because of course I was on my period. And my phone was dead as a doornail.

[in-superbloom]

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

[lizbotw]

Kageyama is undoubtedly bad at history. The way too expensive textbook he'd been roped into buying at the start of the semester was a bad omen in and of itself. It was a heavy thing with a somber cover of a brown-toned world map, unnecessarily thick with pages sliced thin and tiny printed letters squished together to fit as many words humanly possible in a single space. Perhaps that should've been an indication the alleged easy-A class he'd heard about would... maybe... not be a piece of cake for him.

He was an athlete, not a world cultures major—an athlete that was desperate to fulfil his social studies requirement in time for graduation and professional team recruitments that is. He needed a game plan. ASAP.

The ugly book Kageyama had come to despise was glossy under the library lights—the medieval Europe unit stared back. Fun. Next him, you were folding up a page that he feels like you should've been using to write your notes, but also knew he had no room to talk. So far in his own notebook he'd written "George," underlined it a few times, and then, after an extended pause, had added five very desperate question marks next to the name because just how many King Georges were there???

Kageyama feels a mild weight on his head and blindly reaches up to see what you've placed there. It's a paper crown. He stares at it in his hands, flips it over in his hold to inspect it, and then turns to find you smiling, watching him expectantly.

"What do you want me to do with this?" he deadpans.

You suddenly look like you're about to kill him. "Way to ruin the mood, Kags." You're huffing in exasperation when you grab the crown from him (doing so very rudely he thinks because he was still looking at it, you know—maybe this is why half of your hangout sessions are spent arguing) and place it neatly back atop his hair, fixing it until it lays flat and straight. You look smug when you finally get it right.

"Now," you begin with all the self-importance of a professor (which you are not) and wave your pen around like it's a pointer, "we're going to learn about the Middle Ages."

The Middle what? "What's the crown for?" Kageyama asks instead before you realize just how hopeless he is. You'd been become his official unofficial tutor for just about every college class he's taken thus far because somehow you two keep accidentally signing up for the same lectures. Kageyama is starting to think magic is real because the word coincidence is starting to feel too far-fetched.

"I am so glad you asked." You look like you were going to tell him whether or not he asked anyway. "We're going to be recreating all the events you need to know for the test! No need to tell me I'm a genius for coming up with this one. I already know." When Kageyama just stares back at you, you add, "But I mean, you could still tell me if you wanted though. I won't complain. I know it can be hard to contain yourself sometimes."

Your prodding doesn’t work because instead he demands, "Why am I wearing this?"

"How else are we going to do this, dummy?"

He doesn't say anything, just pulls the crown off after studying you for a moment and reaches across your side of the table to procure a highlighter from your pencil case. He flattens the crown against the table and begins drawing on it. Why is he ruining your precious masterpiece?! What the fuck!

Fingers digging into his arm, you try to stop him, shaking and rocking him from side to side. You are horrified because that thing took you way too many Youtube videos to figure out how to make. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?!"

Kageyama actually has the audacity to shush you, brushing you off. "Hold on," he grumbles.

"Listen, we don't have time for this. We have 50 pages to get through in the next two hours and I know you don't even know what the Feudal system is and—"

Finally finished scribbling all over the once pristine paper it seems, Kageyama pinches your arm to shut you up. You yelp and rub at the sore spot, simmering in contempt.

"I don't care about the Futuristic system."

"Feudal system."

He frowns at you. You frown right back—even stick out your tongue for good measure—but then find yourself looking at what he's holding. It's the same crown from before, yes, but now it has little pseudo jewels (more like odd shapes drawn just below the peaks, but you can see what he was going for in his artistic rendition) across the front.

You open your mouth to ask what's up with that, but he mumbles something about "Hold still and shut up," and then reaches up. Kageyama places the crown right atop your head in the midst of your surprise.

"Thought it would look better on you." He shrugs, twirling your highlighter around his fingers—you register that it's your pastel pink Mildliner. "Thought you deserved some color on it too. Remember geology last year?" Of course you remember geology from last year. That class had bored you to tears and you still don't know the difference between igneous and metamorphic rocks—your elementary school science teacher would be very disappointed, you know.

"Remember rose quartz?" he continues, not waiting for your answer. "That day we learned rock meanings?" You nod slowly, thinking.

What is he even getting at? Rose quartz... meanings... ugh, if he would just quit it with playing with that pink highlighter so you can actually figure it out—so distracting. Hmm... pink...

A moment of eureka hits you. He'd (badly) drawn little rose quartz on the crown for you with the highlighter. Rose quartz... the stone of universal love.

Kageyama laughs to hide his burning face when you choke at the realization of what he's trying to tell you.

[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Fifteen)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Fourteen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Sixteen

Marnie pov.

I walk into the record company, finding a very young guy at the front desk, probably the intern. Encumbered with phone calls and notes, I wait for him to finish everything before speaking. His lost eyes soon find me and he smiles sympathetically.

“Hi Marnie, Luke is in studio three.” he whispers quickly, getting back on the phone.

I smile in thanks, heading down the hallway he's pointed out. I didn't think it would be so easy. The noise coming from behind the door to studio three startles me. The boys are laughing and screaming so loud, it amazes me that no one came to complain.

I knock on the door twice, hard, to try to get their attention over that area. A guy in a cap opens the door, revealing a room with at least eight people inside.

Luke is the first to jump out of his chair, coming over to me, grinning hugely, pulling me into the room. Ash gets up too, following close behind.

“Sorry for interrupting, but I needed to talk to you.” I look at Luke, who agrees. I pull him out of the room as I hear Irwin complain.

"A disregard for my friendship. Before, she used to come here to see me, not to see you, you empty-headed bunch.”

"She never came to see you." Hood opposes.

I ignore the pre school fight, focusing on the tall blonde in front of me. I lean against the wall, letting him get closer.

Luke had spent Friday night with me, taking care of me. We also spent Saturday morning together, just existing on the couch. That was definitely a very good point for both of us and it really strengthened our relationship. It also didn't make him leave my thoughts, earning him the title of the cutest guy I know.

Never would Stephen do that to me, even because when I was bad he didn't even come close, not wanting to “catch my bad energy”.

“You forgot that at home.” I give his coat, trying to hide it was against my will deliver it so easily.

I saw the coat the second Hemmo left the house, but when the perfume enveloped me, I decided for my own good, to just keep it for a little while, spending day and night in it. Luke stares at me with a raised eyebrow before taking the coat from my hands, smiling.

“Funny, I really missed it, but yesterday, I saw it in your stories, so I didn't worry anymore.” I roll my eyes, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Let me enjoy that you still don't hate me today."

“Too late.” I interrupt him, biting my lip.

"I wonder if I can pick you up, so we can go to the Troubadour together."

The boys are playing there today, for the Friends of Friends event, and I was particularly excited, it would be the first time I would see them play live. “First time”.

I wrinkle my forehead and look around, pretending I was thinking about it. Luke looks at me in disbelief, holding back his laughter. I pout, shaking my head.

"I think you can! Yes, you can. I allow.” I press my lips together, wanting not to laugh.

“Oh God, you.” he shakes his head, looking away. I let out my laugh. "Can I pick you up at 7pm? I need to be at the Troubadour at least an hour before the show.”

“Of course! No problems. Go! Now I need to talk to Ash.” I push him back to the door.

“It's about my birthday, isn't it?” he opens an excited smile.

I dissolve my expression, wanting to hit him. Damn it, he knows. I feel the surprise party going straight down the drain, but I don't want to give in to it.

“No! The world doesn't revolve around you, Hemmings.” I cross my arm, teasing him.

“It's about my birthday! Alright, I'm going to pretend I don't know anything.” he takes two leaps into place happily.

“My God, I hate you.” I hide my face, sighing. I can't believe he screwed up his own surprise party.

“Hey.” I hear his voice close. I take my hands away from my face, finding his very close. His lips steal a kiss from me, quickly.

“Go away!” I pick up my bag, hitting him.

Luke walks into the studio laughing, yelling at Ash that I've been waiting. I walk around the hallway, wanting to wipe the stupid smile off my face. I hide my face again, returning to the scene that just happened about 50 times, at least.

“Say it!” Ash approaches.

“I hate him!” I point to the studio, taking a deep breath.

“Of course you do! And the sky is green. I can see how much you hate him, by that silly smile on your face.” Irwin raises an eyebrow.

"Don't make me use my purse against you too." I scare away the latest happenings, focusing on what mattered. "Do you have the ring?" he hands me a silver ring set with a black stone.

“Quickly, because he's already noticed he's gone.” I nod, still analyzing the jewelry.

"I'm going right now and tonight I'll return you at the Troubadour." I keep the piece in my bag. "All set for Friday?" he nodded. "You know he knows, don't you? How did he find out?”

“Behind that stupid face, he's smart sometimes.” I roll my eyes at my friend, laughing. “Seriously, if you pay attention, sometimes it feels like there's an elevator song playing in his head. Especially when he's standing staring at something.” I laugh when Ash decides to imitate Luke, staring blankly at the wall.

“You guys are terrible. Well, I'll be on my way, see you later.” I give a kiss on his cheek.

Thursday is Luke's birthday and I, more than anyone, want it to be a perfect day. Also, I want to give him a nice present that somehow doesn't involve my body, as I apparently did before.

Searching the internet, I found a store in east LA that sold some jewelry that I thought would be to his taste. I was going after a box with five rings and three necklaces, which looked like they were made for Luke.

If I could, I would advance the time, just to give the gift soon. I just want to see his face and hope he likes it the way I think it will.

I walk past reception, waving goodbye to the poor receptionist who still seemed tangled up with the phones. Interns.

"Marnie?" I turn around when I hear my name. The man in the dress shirt, who had just passed me, approaches smiling.

“Yes?” I look at him confused.

“Of course, you don't remember. Sorry! I'm John, 5sos’ tour manager. How are you?”

“Oh! I'm great, thanks.” I soften my posture. Being Luke's girlfriend, I must have seen John a thousand times.

"It was quite a scare. I'm relieved you're okay.” I smile gratefully at the concern. "Would you have a minute for us to talk?"

Luke pov.

I lean against the car, waiting for Marnie to get out. I take a deep breath, trying not to let the anxiety get the better of me. We've practically spent the weekend together, we're getting closer, she's letting her guard down with every second we spend together, letting me fight to win her back, and yet here I am, shaking like a stick, as if it was the first time we went out together.

"Pathetic!" I say to myself, not accepting being like this.

We dated for two years, it's not like she was a stranger. I know her better than she does. I already know everything she likes, how she's going to react to every move I make and even then, I'm terrified of doing something wrong.

When I realized I was falling in love again with every detail of her, I didn't think that insecurity would come back with it. In fact, I thought it would be better than the first time, that I would be more confident and secure. But it’s Marnie I'm talking about, she eliminates any security and logic in me.

I twirl the little ring through my fingers, noticing how cold and sweaty my hand was. Yes, that human being not five feet tall, can mess with me.

I hear the door unlock, prompting me to put the ring away quickly. Marnie steps in front of me, walking around with open arms. I give her the dumbest smile.

“So? Am I OK?” she stretches out her Friends of Friends hoddie proudly.

"You look spectacular." I sigh, feeling my heart race.

"Not really, it was a little old thing that was in the back of my closet." she laughs, sounding like her mother last week. I blink a few times, trying to disguise the stupid face I must be making.

“You really look fantastic.” I say before holding her body against mine. I sink my nose into her neck, taking in all of her scent, letting into my bloodstream, fueling the butterflies in my stomach, along with the touch of her skin against mine, even with the clothes between us.

I ease my grip, releasing her, but her body remains pinned to mine and she pulls me back, squeezing me tighter. The action takes me by surprise. Not that I didn't want to hold her, I could live the rest of my life here, in her arms. But that indicated something was wrong.

“Is it everything OK?” I whisper, overcome with worry. Marnie just nods, affirming, or rather lying to me. She's not fine.

Her body pulls away and I see a sad glint in her eyes. My body tenses, seeing that fake smile take her lips, unlike the one she gave just minutes ago. My face hardens, realizing she was acting.

“Marnie…” I start my speech to say that she could tell me anything, but she interrupts me.

“We're late, we need to go. Let's go!” she dodges around me, heading for the car door.

I sigh, seeing that I won't be able to get anything out of her today. As far as I know, she doesn't want to spoil the night and will hold it off until the end. I hate when she does that. Keep everything to herself, without the slightest need, we can share the problem and even the pain, that's what a couple does, they support each other.

We left the building, taking the expressway to get there faster. Marnie babbles about her excitement to see the band play live. Normally, I love to hear and see her talk too much. Seeing her eyes flashing rapidly, her tongue getting tangled up in some difficult word, or seeing her start to laugh before she can get the funny part out. Her clumsy hands, moving quickly until she managed to drop something.

But now, I can only move my head automatically, still with my mind on her bad performance from before. Until this morning everything was fine, she was excited and happy. Until minutes ago she was happy. But now it's just a facade covering something I can't quite make out what it is.

She didn't argue with Leah, because the gossip didn't get through to me, and I'm sure Noah would have let me know by now, so we can set the process for the two of them to make up. I didn't see anything on the internet that could have messed with her. Unless something happened during the photo shoot.

"Luke?" I look quickly at her, who was looking at me amused. “Are you OK?” now she was the one asking.

“Yeah! Sorry, I daydreamed a bit. Thinking about everything I need to do getting there. What did you say?” I try to push my worry away, focusing solely on her, which is what I cared about.

"I asked if you're going to play my song?" my cheeks heat up. She knows?

"What song?" I question carefully.

“The one made for me, Amnesia.” I stop at the light, staring at her mischievous smile. This one is not fake.

"You didn't make that joke." I say disappointed. Marnie laughs beside me. “I refuse to accept that you made such a horrible joke. Marnie, you were not like that.” I shake my head.

“It was good, you can't deny it.” she pulls my hand into her lap. I freeze from the movement, feeling my skin tingle.

“It was terrible and it insults me somehow. I taught you wonderful jokes.” her fake, forced laugh catches my attention as I accelerate.

"I hear your jokes are horrible." I look quickly at her, who's sitting sideways, her head leaning back against the bench. Shit, she is so beautiful.

“This is a huge lie.” her laugh fills the car again.

The mood gets better the rest of the way. I still have my mind hammering at that moment, but I leave it for later, as she probably would. We entered through the back of the Troubadour, meeting everyone in the hallway and dressing room.

I hold her hand, pulling her close to me as we walk into the crowd. As I expected, M&Ms become the center of everything, everyone wants to say hello to her and see if she really was okay. I leave her for a few seconds in everyone's company, pulling Ashton and Leah aside.

"Do you guys know if something happened to Marnie?" They deny it. "Didn't you discuss?"

“No! In fact, I'm missing it.” Leah turns her face away, watching M&Ms laugh among the crowd. “What there was?” she looks at me again. I resume the scene for the two of them.

“She was fine when she left the record company.” Ash reinforces my thinking.

"I didn't know anything about today's photo shoot." Leah adds. "You don't think Stephen might have shown up again, do you? Or even that bitch? Bethany?” I shake my head.

Stephen had to be really, really dumb to show up to Marnie after she said she knew everything. And Bethany never tried to talk to her after what happened, I doubt she would try now.

“I'm sure she doesn't want to say anything yet so as not to spoil the night, we know how she is.” Leah rolls her eyes, she also hates such an attitude. “But later on, she might tell what happened and right away it will be with one of the three of us.”

"If she says anything later, I'll talk to you." Hastings warns.

I thank the brunette, who quickly rejoins Marnie. I watch her extend her still-in-a-cast arm for them to sign in the few empty spaces.

I quickly prepare for the show so I can stay with her for a few more seconds before taking the stage. I position myself behind her, who was sitting on the arm of the sofa, letting her body lean against mine. I watch for her hand moving up to her shoulder, placing it under mine. I drop a kiss to her pink hair, watching her lean her head back further, looking up at me with a beautiful smile.

Shit, I'm so in love with her.

Minutes after a lot of mess, we got ready for the stage. Marnie comes to me before running to their place. I adjust the guitar, opening my arms to her, who comes bouncing.

"How much have you had to drink?" I ask, laughing, looking at her rosy cheeks.

“Just a little.” It hangs around my neck. “I promise not to pick a fight with anyone." she laughs.

“Thanks! I feel more relaxed.”

“Good show!” she wish me, stealing a kiss like I did earlier.

Marnie escapes my arms like sand, running to the door and running away hand in hand with Leah. I rub my face hard, not accepting how she can move me so much.

I approach the guys, doing our circle like every time we go on stage.

The lights blind me for a few seconds and soon I can see that sea of ​​people ecstatic to see us there. Ashton takes the lead, thanking everyone in advance for their presence and explaining why we're there.

I position myself at the microphone, ready to start singing Youngblood. Before I give the cue, I look upstairs, seeing her cotton candy hair watching me with a mixture of admiration and sadness. I blink at her, who smiles lightly and without strength. I play the chord, trying to focus my attention on the show and the new song I'm going to sing for her next, but all that goes around my head is: What's going on, Marnie?

OMG! Luke's new music video, am I right?

[yoursinfulurges]

Toxin and Venom

Slight Dark!Peter Parker x Dark!Reader

Description:

In which a seemingly loving relationship appears greater than it is...

There was something rather terrible about this young man's naive exterior. Though nobody could pinpoint where exactly the dreadfulness laid. His eyes shined a little too brightly, and his words were coated in thick sugar, enough to appear disingenuous to the skillfully trained ears. But there hidden behind is smile concealed the sinister morals of a true manipulator.

Oh' but she was no better herself, twisting words to favour her narrative. Playing as if she was nothing more than a meek little prey.

Warnings: pure angst with an underlining layer of toxicity.

Disclaimer: This is a REWRITE of one of my old stories dated back to a year ago, so if it sounds familiar that is why. This story was originally written for Jung Jaehyun from NCT but seeing as though I've fallen out of love with kpop at the moment, I wanted to repurpose it for my new followers that I've harbored since The Venom Within, as I'm very proud of the way it was written and concluded that I wanted to share with you all. I did improve and change quite a lot so you won't be reading the exact same story and I decided to add a twist to it.

Note: This is more so a college au so the fact that Peter is Spiderman is insignificant...

Word Count: 4.k

_____________

Your boyfriend, Peter, had always been the most kind and caring person you knew. Ever since you met him, and even after months of dating, he still acted like the bashful, kind Disney prince you took him for. Only treating you with nothing but respect and admiration; you often wondered if this boy was even capable of making an insult, or had a bad bone in his body. Fore he acts way too nice and sweet for his own good. Controlling at times but it was with all good intentions...

Originally, you thought the kind gestures and lovely sweet talking was his way of subtly flirting, but after years of dating him, you came to the realization that it was just simply him. Peter didn't need to pretend to be kind and sweet like other guys; given that it was like second nature for him. You loved the boy to death. He showered you with so much love, spoiled you with affection. Treated you like his queen; His shining jewel. Out of the two years that you'd been together, not once has he wronged you.

    That is, up until this exact moment...

You stand there in the middle of the kitchen, tears streaming down your cheeks. At this point you had stopped listening to what he was saying. In fear that if you continued to listen to his harsh words, more of your love would begin to fleet away, and you couldn't afford to lose any more. Despite of all your excessive yelling, you loved Peter. And he meant so much to you. But seeing him in this state, angry and hostile, attacking you viciously with his words, you began to question your future with him.

You couldn't quite fathom what brought on this newfound aggression in your relationship. Though, you had a slight seeking suspicion that it was from all the post-exam stress you both had to endure. Weeks upon weeks of studying and sleepless nights finally took its toll on the both of you. Thus bringing you to this exact moment in time. The once loving home corrupted by the harsh spoken words that fell from both of your lips. Anger and aggression filling the room, space welcoming the negativity with open arms. You had both tainted it...

That was not the boy you fell in love with, but instead somebody meaner, a-kind to venom...

Then again, you weren't a saint yourself either, words you wouldn't have ever thought of saying spilled out of your mouth like toxin. You needed to do something fast to mend your relationship back together...

The mere thought of breaking up with the man hurts you so dearly. You just wanted your loving boyfriend back from what ever abyss he dissapeared off to. Typically your fights never lasted this long, but this one proved to be quite challenging. You just wanted him to stop yelling. But in fear of the unthinkable outcome of your protest, you kept shut and held onto the remaining pieces of your heart. You knew for a fact that Peter would never dear to lay a hand on you, so you tried very desperately to push those thoughts aside. However, his following statements made both tasks very difficult. It was as if he was challenging your composure. Like he wanted the flood gates broken.

Like he wanted you to cave in to the malicious voice whispering in your ear...

His words could've very well be from all the stress, ..or pent up insults and remarks that he'd been silently keeping in. You had no way of telling. You prayed and hoped that it was the first one rather than the assuming latter. Because maybe then, you would consider forgiving him. Even though the words punctured you like bullets, penetrating your inner layers and hurting you in more ways than one. This was not your Peter... You questioned the morals behind his words, were they intended to hurt you, or was it just in the heat of the moment. Regardless, you knew that his words would be something that lingered on forever in your head.

"I don't even know why I stayed this long with you, honestly! What do I even see in you! Stop being so unreasonable! You're easily replaceable, so i don't see why you're acting so high and mighty. News flash y/n, i could do a lot better!"

         And there it was...

His current state and demeanor rivalled that of which the one you used to know. The soft spoken, kind, sweet, shy Peter. The one that still plays with legos despite being nineteen years old. You'd give anything to have him back...

You always knew that Peter could do better, but hearing this from him was a lot different than you saying it to yourself in your head. Before you had started dating you knew he had a chance with Michelle. She was a very pretty girl that went to your university, she was also Peter's chem partner... Michelle was nice, smart, and talented. You were very aware of the little 'thing' they had going on. So to your surprise, when you heard rumors of a certain Peter Parker, looking to ask you out, you almost didn't believe. Hell, you laughed straight into Brad's face and told him he was delusional. If only a hesitant, blush faced Peter wasn't stood right behind you to prove you wrong.

Ever since that day, you questioned Peter's choice. Why did he choose you, when he could've had a chance with Michelle? Someone he was more compatible with... You figured that he saw something special in you that nobody else did. Though, his previous statement proves you wrong and tells you that he doesn't even know why he gave you a chance. You're at a drift, not knowing where this relationship is headed, or where to stand. Knowing that you were replaceable to Peter weakens you. Were you really that insignificant to him? Were you a chore to be around? If so then why did he stay for two years? All these questions ran through your mind as you're frozen in a state of shock. How do you follow such a thing?

You stand silently, wails threatening to break free from your lips, as you shake. Instantly covering your mouth with your palm. You watch as he screamed at you more, words blocked out by the ringing in your ears. Truthfully, you were glad you couldn't hear his words, not knowing how to reciprocate to any more of his personal attacks.

The familiar feeling of despair began to conjure in the pit of your stomach. The tightness in your chest began to focus on your beating heart, constricting you like a boa preying on its meal. Everything around you became a hazy blur as the non stop ringing became more prominent. The cause being your angry boyfriend and his heart-wrenching words. Jolts of anxiety began to climb up from your figure tips, like a thousand spiders crawling on your skin. A feeling you know all too well crept up from behind you. You were beginning to feel frantic and scared, as your breathing became unstable.

You were becoming erratic, desperate to end the fight and be in his arms again.

"What!? Huh, not gonna clap back with some snarky remark. Admit it, you know im right!"

Peter's face was a striking shade of scarlet while he paced back and forth, hands finding themselves tangled in his hair as he mumbled inaudible words. His hair, you remember running your hands through his curly, brown locks this morning when you woke up. Oh, how happy and blissful you both were twelve hours prior to this moment. You both were so content and hopeful with the prospect of your relationship. Being able to finally spend time with each other after a stressful week. Originally, you had planned a date night with Peter. But things began to make a turn for the worse when he began to insult every little thing you did. Now here you were, an hour and forty-five minutes late for your reservations.

A taste for bitterness began to fill your mouth, as your insides churned. Waves of sadness and despair hit you like a tsunami. You suddenly couldn't stand the thought of staying in the same room as Peter. Let alone sleeping in one. Fore his words had impacted you like an arrow through the heart. You felt sick, disgusted, vulnerable, and above all else, hurt.

"God, you're such a fucking bitch sometimes!" Peter spat, but soon after stopped, noticing your sudden change in demeanor. Your once, fuming and aggressive facade was replaced with a much more subdued, fragile, hurt exterior, mirroring how you felt inside. You had given up. The bandage that held your heart together snapped.

You looked up at him, hurt written all over your face. Instantly, Peter rushed your way. He wanted to wrap his arms around you, apologize for calling you a bitch. But stopped when you held your hand out and shook your head, a sob erupting from your mouth. Suddenly, all the hurtful things Peter said rang through his own head.

Oh...

Shit!

"Baby, I-" He started, not knowing how to follow. His mouth suddenly became dry, letting out a sigh of regret. Voice coming out weak and pained. His chest tightening at the sight of what he has done to you. No no no no no no.... Peter knew you weren't the type to forgive and forget. Even if you both manage to somehow recover from this, he knew that his words would always be in your head. You would constantly doubt yourself and his transparency, thinking if it was all an act.

Regret began to eat away at him once again when he noticed your uneven breathing. Another punch in his gut when he took note of your shaking. Peter's eyes quickly darted to yours, his heart breaking when he saw the amount of fear in them. He was uncertain if you were scared of him or your emotions. He wanted it to be the second one. Peter never wanted you to see him in that light. Yet here you were, having an anxiety attack because of him...

He knew that feeling all too well, having suffered from anxiety of his own, but the fact that he was the one to force you into that state shattered him..

"Don't call me that...." You spat coldy, backing away slowly into your shared bedroom. Making sure he didn't follow and locking the door. Once in the cozy room, you sob like la llorona conveying grief. You couldn't bear to see all the happy pictures of you two, when he said so himself, you're nothing special to him. Without thinking, you began to rip off every Polaroid, framed pictures, and drawings from the walls. Not caring of ripping them. You threw them all on the floor. Your vision becoming clouded by tears as you sob. Ruining the white fabric of your oversized sweater with your makeup contaminated tears.

Your body halts, the last remaining picture was of the both of you on your first date. You always considered that day as the happiest moment of your life. But now knowing that you're just a pit stop in Peter's life, the memory manifests into something much darker than obsidian.

You inhale as you looked at the picture one more time. It was you kissing Peter on the cheek. He donned a beautiful cheshire smile, his freckles displaying proudly under the sunlight. He wore a red, hooded sweatshirt with his hero, Iron man's logo depicted on the top right corner. You always love it when he wore sweaters, especially that one. You remembered every emotion you felt as the picture was being taken. Even if you didn't, your expression held it all. You radiated happiness as the butterflies in your stomach became restless. You were so happy...

You sob lightly, your thumb caressing his face as you looked fondly at the picture. Suddenly, words that fell from his mouth earlier replayed in your head. He had purposely attacked your deepest insecurities. Jabbed and taunted you. The Peter you knew would never result to something so cruel and petty. Without putting much thought into it, you began to take the picture out of its frame.

Your ears perking up when you hear the familiar sound of the lock being picked. The jiggling of the doorknob was something you grew accustomed to. Having locked yourselves out of the bedroom on more than one occasion....

Taking one final breath, you rip the picture in two and retreated into the master bathroom. Once the door was slammed shut and locked, all hell broke loose. As if it couldn't have gotten worse alright. Your wails grew louder and more repetitive that you were being to sound like a banshee, mourning for her decaying heart. Eventually, you found yourself curled up in the bathtub, suppressing your cries into your knees as you lowered your head.

Peter finally succeeds in picking the lock, after what seemed like hours, and once he creaked opened the door of your shared bedroom, his heart broke in two. Parts of him began to deteriorate, he wished he had never said those hurtful things. He felt numb and out of touch with reality, sensing his anxiety looming over his shoulder. Peter knew that one of your biggest insecurities was never meaning much to somebody. And that weren't fond of feeling worthless and neglected. He knew your background and upbringing well enough to know just how much you disliked being treated as such.

All he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and kiss your tears away. A pool of sadness brimmed his eyes as he evaluates the damage. From one corner of the room to the other, pictures were left scattered and discarded. The framed drawings of him that you illustrated, sat on the floor of your bedroom, frame cracked and shattered. The Polaroids he held ever so dearly to his heart, littered the bed and floor. He broke down in tears when he sees the torn picture of you both.

How could you vandalize such a treasured memory. But then again, how could he hurt the most precious thing in his life. Seeing the picture ripped apart like this, he knew that somehow he affected your perspective on this whole relationship. His previous words had tainted such beloved memories, and twisted them to seem like nothing more than a one-sided love. He made you question whether he truly loved you or not. Suddenly the realization kicked in, and it kicked in hard. A tsunami of guilt and regret pierced through is heart. His insides churned and it suddenly became very hard to breathe. He suddenly became really aware of how dire this situation was. His following actions may break your relationship if he didn't act wisely.

Peter bends down to hold your piece of the puzzle, a river flow of heart ache cascading down his cheeks, wetting the captured image of you. Your sobs, which had begun to sound like cries of help, due to lack of air, rang threw Peter's ears. Suddenly he grew extremely concerned and rushed to the door, dropping your image.

Immediately, you stop when you heard soft knocks coming from the other end of the door, which was soon followed by cries and sniffling sounds.

"Baby, open the door!" You don't comply with his words and stayed seated in your place, hugging your knees tighter.

"W-what are you gonna do if i don't? Pick the lock and violate my privacy! Just go away P-peter! W-why don't you go find another girl to replace me, because apparently, i-i mean nothing to you!" Screaming at the inanimate door, or more so the person behind it, as you let out a cut short wail. You hated yourself for how weak and broken you sounded. Wishing, you could drown out his stupid words that had already engraved itself deep in your brain.

"Y-you said s-so yourself! I'm easily replaceable! I-if i had known that this relationship was just gonna be one sided then i would've never wasted my time!" Apparent in your tone and words how truly distraught you were, Peter cried harder, cold sweats engulfing his body. He winced at the thought of how broken you were. It only lead him to wonder, what exactly happened and what brought on this fight. Sounding more so a statement rather than a question in his head.

He parted his lips softly, a small whimpering sigh rolling off his tongue.

"Please y/n, just open the door. I-i just want to see you. Please... I-I need to know that you're okay...." his words laced with mixed emotions, such as sorrow and remorse. Despite his current emotional state, Peter's stature looked anything else but composed. God, he was freaking out..

Incoherently mumbling a soft 'please' as he laid his forehead onto the wood door. His hand resting above his head, fist balled tightly, as if ready to start pounding. He was desperate, eyes screwing shut tightly causing a flow of tears to glide down his cheeks. Peter's jaw clenched tightly in frustration, as he beat himself over and over again for saying such things.

After much hesitance, you stood up and made your way to the door. Peter hears the small shuffle and quickly straightens himself out. After seconds of hovering your hand over the knob, you twist it open, instantly unlocking itself and setting free all the pent up emotions. You crack open the door, almost immediately, Peter rushes in and hugs you.

You don't return the hug, silently stiffening in his arms. At that moment, the last few bits of composure you had built back up snaps loose. You become a crying mess in Peter's arms. Feelings of unmeasurable sadness cascade down your cheeks, onto his black long sleeve shirt. You try and push him away, but fail due to his strength. His muscular arms constricting you as if you would fade away.

"Listen to me please." He says softly, tears lightly streaming down his cheeks, though, not to the caliber of yours.

You sniffle lightly, thrashing in his arms. Though, it was no use, his hold was so secure that no amount of resistance would break you free. So, you could do nothing else but endure what he has to say.

"I'm sorry-

Sorry doesn't fix anything Peter, it's just a word!" The teary-eyed male hissed at your words. The amount of hurt and venom your tone held was enough to make his jaw clench and his hold to tighten.

"I know it doesn't, but it's a start. L-look, i didn't mean to say that. I don't know what came over me, or what caused me to say those things. But what i do know is that they were a hundred percent untrue. And i want you to know that..." He pauses briefly to wipe away your tears with his thumb. Dipping his head into the crook of your neck. He took in your floral scent, hoping it would help him regain composure. You feel a tug on your heart at how utterly hurt and small he sounded.

"I love you with all my heart, and that you are the most unique girl I've ever met... If anything i don't know how i even managed to get a girlfriend as beautiful and amazing as you..... Wanna know why I'm with you?" You nod lightly into his chest. His hold readjust itself as he lays his head above yours. Almost content with your slight gesture, but he needed to be sure you were happy.

"It's because you accept me for who i am. You don't pressure me to be perfect all the time, you welcome my flaws with open arms; don't expect anything from me and shower me with so much love everyday... I want you to know that i could never replace you, not that i would ever want to. How did i ever get so lucky... Please y/n, you are one of the most important people in my life.... I-i can't loose you too..." Peter couldn't fathom a future with out you in it. He grew frantic, thinking that this day could be the last together. And that there would be a slight chance that you didn't want to forgive him again. He couldn't let that happen...

"Please say something...." He sighed whilst tears brimmed his eyes, taking your tightening hold on his shirt to keep moving forward.

"Do you remember when we first started dating, that night i texted you that i was frustrated and my anxiety was acting up... And you came over in a heart beat, even though you lived fifteen minutes away... Y-you told me to let it all out, and i cried in your arms for an hour, complaining about everything. I felt so ashamed for crying in front of you, but you told me that i was so brave for accepting my feelings... I know what i said must've hurt you a lot, but I'll do better... I'm sorry for triggering you like that." Peter's tone was barely above whisper, and if he hadn't have said it directly above your ear, you would've missed it. There he was... your Peter....

You thought back to the said memory and smiled fondly, that was the night you both realized that you wanted a more serious title on your relationship. Finally labeling each other as boyfriend and girlfriend. You thought back to all the happy memories you both shared and confirmed that a silly little fight wouldn't get the best of you. Yes, his words might've hurt, but his actions now out ways all of his petty insults. You give into your flourishing heart and forgive him.

Backing away from his chest lightly, you look up at him, gasping slightly at his blood shot eyes. You hesitatly reach up to cup both of his cheeks. Wiping away the remaining tears that streamed down his face. He smiled lightly and leaned into your touch, taking one of your hands in his and place a soft, delicate kiss on it.

"We'll be okay...." You smiled at his comforting words before planting a passionate, loving kiss on his lips. Peter smiled lightly before taking your wrist on his hold and guiding them to wrap around his neck. He deepens the kiss and pulls you closer by your waist.

It was then that he realized that he wanted you to be the only women in his life. And that he wanted nobody else. Suddenly feeling an overly compelling urge in his heart to make up for his actions overcomes him. He was determined to trap you in his web of love again. He couldn't loose you too...

You smile in content, 

          portraying the victim always worked...

'Indeed, we'll be just fine.....'

Perhaps they were both awful people, fooling each other with the reality they both created. But it was done with the intent of love, sick twisted love... He was possessive and she was insecure. And together they were toxin and venom... God forbid anything that tries to get in between them...

_____________

End Note:

For those that don't understand, take notice in Peter's words and how drastically different they are from when he was mad to when he was apologizing. Sweet at first glance but if you really dig deep you'd notice how sugar coated everything seemed, like he's saying what you want to hear. And as for the Reader, I purposely left out how much she contributed to the fight in the beginning to make it seem as though she was the victim, when in reality she was also at fault. The anxiety aspect of this story was very much 'real' since I described what it felt like for me and I wanted her to suffer from anxiety yet have something be a little off. Now, I'm not claiming that the bedroom part was a whole scene to feed her victim persona, but that's up to how you want to view it. This story is subjective and can be taken however way you want to.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

PLAY SMART

Che “Taza” Romero x Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: Another crazy idea. I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @arveeee ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Adjusting the green shirt to your chest, you go out of the clubhouse followed by Creeper drinking a coffee on a cardboard cup. You’re walking faster with your gaze on the front, directly to the car scrapping. It supposed that you should start in one hour, but if you arrive earlier, you can also leave earlier. You don’t want to see Taza after what happened last day, when his ex-wife came to the workshop because her car was having problems with the engine. She talked you as if you were a servant, or something like that, so you couldn't shut up and spoke to her in a sarcastic tone that she didn't like. Of course, she told Taza. At first, you didn’t care, until you saw how they said goodbye, with so much love and affection. Gilly told you that they have been married for almost fifteen years and that she was back to town indefinitely. It was like a shoot straight to your heart.

You aren’t nothing, but for the last months there has been a flirt environment installed between both, always pulling and loosening. But with his ex-wife in Santo Padre and by the way she had of touching him constantly, you know that what you wanted so bad it’s not going to happen. So you’re trying to not match with him. And that hurts. The only thing you can do it’s work and go home. No Mayans parties, no more nights at the clubhouse and no more rides back home on Taza’s bike. You can’t fight with a woman who knows him since ever and who was married with him for too many years. You didn’t know that something like that could happen, he didn’t talk you about her and it seems like it was a surprise for him too.

“Dammit, mama, you look like shet’”. Angel’s confused voice pushes you back to reality, making you shake your head for an instant.

“I didn’t sleep last night”. You shrug your shoulders and arms.

Messed bump, eye bags, no makeup and the shoelaces untied. You sigh after having a look of yourself, leaning down to tie them. The sun seems to disappear, raising your gaze surprised till you find your boss’ eyes, crossing his arms over his chest covered by leather. You swallow quietly, licking your inner lip before continuing with your task. 

“Everything ok?” You ask playing fool, hiding your nervous voice for a while.

“I don’ know, everything ok?”

“Yea’, I just… start earlier ‘cause I need to go to Santa Madre”.

“Sure. Why you didn’t come to the ranch last night?”

“Last night? What hap— Oh! Oh!”

Taza raises both eyebrows, while you still playing the innocent one palming your forehead.

“Shit, I forgot the Mayan dinner...” Clicking your tongue, you snort heavy.

“Let me tell you something, (Y/N)”. Facing you with hardly two inches between both, he leans above your ear provoking you some chills. “Soy un perro muy viejo, para que un cachorro me intente engañar”. (I'm a very old dog, and a puppy can't lie to me”.

“I forgot it”. You insist. “I was tired and I fell asleep on the sofa”.

“Look at your face”. The man says without changing his position. “Not everything is what it seems”.

“Ok, boss. I get it”. 

Taza doesn't say anything else, hitting his shoulder against yours to pass you away. Rubbing it you turn to the oldest rolling your eyes. Creeper and Angel are staring at you, trying to understand what is happening, but you don't wanna talk about it. Work and go home, that's all you want. The Reyes, putting an arm on your shoulders, shake his head disappointed 'cause he's starting to know what's going on having all the clues on the table.

Going upstairs to the office, you hug Chuckie as soon as you see him, asking for the hours signature quadrant. Your turn is already finished and completed and you also have the afternoon free, so you could rest the time you didn't last night thinking about the things that it's not going to happen, driving you crazy. Leaving the car scrapping' shirt in your hanger, you grab the helmet next to your bag, ready to leave. 

And she's there again. You can see her from the top of the stairs, hugging your boss and kissing his cheek as you used to do it. You're going downstairs slow, concentrated on not looking like you're jealous. Yes, you two were nothing, but you feel some kind of things that you would like not to feel right now. Taking off your phone of the pocket, you dissemble when he catches you looking at them, walking towards your motorbike to put the helmet on. 

“Wait a second”. You hear some meters away, while your sitting on your bike. “Eh, (Y/N)!”

You want to make that you didn't listen his call, but it would be too evident, so Taza waits for you to reversing and stop again. 

“I'm sorry for the hit”.

“Yeah, it was rude”.

“Are you hurry?”

“Yeah, a little”.

“When will you back at home, ah?”

“I don't kn... Why it feels like I'm talking to my father?”

“Because you're so fuckin' annoyin'”.

“Great, thanks. Another bullshit, Taza?”

“You know what? Fuck off”.

“Yeah, pretty one”. Rolling your eyes, containing the tears in them, you turn the engine to run away from the front yard.

Bishop texted you about four pm to tell you that Yuma and Stockton charters were coming to Santo Padre by night, so they're having a party and he needs you along with EZ to attend the bar. That's precisely what you were avoiding to do, be at the clubhouse more time than necessary. But guessing that you should work just for two or three hours accompanied doesn't seems a big trouble to deal with. So you're in.

Driving you car, 'cause it's gonna be easy to come back home after the party, you reach the car scrapping parking there so your Camaro will be safe in case that anyone decided to start a friendly fight. They usually do, for no reason. Last time, your motorbike suffered the consequences, even if they took care of the fixed. Walking betwixt a lot of crap mountains, your steps go straight to the green main door with mayans symbols finding the crowded yard. Stockton are already there, mixed with the Santo Padre' ones. EZ whistles you, claiming for your attention with that charming smile he always have on his face. You greet the guys raising your chin for a second, whilst going close to the prospect.

“Take the Jose Cuervo in the warehouse, I'm on my way for beers”.

“Okay”. You nod then, turning to the right and guiding your legs to the huge metallic structure by a side of the clubhouse. 

Grabbing the trolley at the entrance, you walk towards the end of the warehouse to leave it there, so you can place five boxes on it. Bishop calls to the door, even if it's opened asking you for come in without words. He walks in, closing it and resting his body against a shelving.

“You ok, kid?”

“Yea', just a bad night, prez”. You nod showing a soft and fleeting smile, presing the low rod of the trolley leaning to you and putting im by the two wheels.

“You didn' came to the dinner”.

“I'm sorry, I forgot it”.

“Did you?”

Leaving a sigh on air, you don't know what to say, pursing your lips as you place your gaze in nowhere.

“I saw you… kinda arguing with Taza this morning. Twice”.

“I—”.

“You know you can talk to me, rai'?” He sounds serious, crossing his arms.

“I just… made some illusions. The kind that fuck you down, when you realize that they're… just that. Illusions”.

“I know what you're talkin'bout. Play smart, kid. You're not stupid”.

Might be the best advice someone could give you, and you know you should. But sometimes, you can't simply do it. After leaving you there, you continue your walk to the clubhouse, going upstairs carefully with the tequila boxes. Opening the door with a push of your back, EZ notices you ready to help you. When everything is placed, the prospect offers you a shirt with the Mayans logo to change it for yours. Like somekind of uniform.

Once you're wearing it, you walk outside to receive the Yuma charter, hugging Canche as soon as he sees you.

“What's up, chamaca?”

“Not much, just another party working, not enjoying”.

“When you finish, make a place fo' me in your busy schedule. I need some help with my bike”. He says placing a hand on your shoulders, so you can follow him to his men to greet them too.

“Sure! I'll let you know when I'm done”.

A car coming calls your attention, turning under Canche's grip, to find the owner.

“What the hell…? Isn't that Taza's ex-wife?”

“Yep”.

“What she doin'ere?” The president asks you confused.

“Don' know. Ask her ex-husband”. You answer with a singing voice and both eyebrows raised.

“That bitch fucked him up”.

“Did she…?”

“Yea', I heard something 'bout a one-night-stand with a Vato. Oscar told us”.

“But they seems so close”.

“Taza is a good man, you know him”.

“Yea'...”

Pursing your lips at the man, you shrugs before start with your tasks of serve beers and tequila shot for everyone there, with EZ help. You can't help but thinking about that woman who came from nowhere with some kind of clear intentions, and now you're understanding was what Bishop trying to tell you. “Play smart”. So you will. Grabbing the coldest beers and putting them on a tray, you carry them to the first picnic table outside, where the main members of your charter are sitting. Leaving there, one for each one, you sit close to the Padrino who puts an arm around your waist.

“You look good in that shirt, kid”. He says proud, having a look from top to down. Since you started to work there, he has been the most gentle man on earth with you and it's something to be thankful for. “How's your week goin'? Didn' see you last night”.

“Tired week, need to rest, padrino”.

“You look like. Are they treating you good, or taking advantage that you're so helpful, ah?”

“To be that ‘helpful’ you have to show some respect first”. You hear that irritating feminine voice behind your back, before she appears in front of your eyes with a hand on Taza's left shoulder.

“Take off that Vato's dick of your mouth, before talking about my kid”. Padrino's voice is calm and peaceful, surprising you about it, and creating an uncomfortable silence on the table. 

You're fucking done. Done in a good mood, 'cause well, no one piss off padrino's kid. Palming his back, you get up of your seat to grab the tray and go back to work, as soon as Oscar claims your attention to ask for some beers. At least, now you know what happened, even if you're trying to figure what's she doing here. Not for you, but for Taza. Because she doesn't deserve someone like him, not after what she did. Double disloyalty. And that's screwing you more than you thought.

Even if it's something that it's in your head all the time, you make sure that doesn't influence in your work, letting it for later. And when you're already finished with it, leaving EZ with the rest, you go straight to Canche. As soon as you're done with him too, you can be close to Taza to make it up to him because of your paranoia. And so you do, sharing the same table with a beer in your hand. You don't know why his ex-wife continue there, but you don't care. Not anymore. Sitting in front of him, again by padrino's side and Bishop at the other, you try to get in the conversation. Easy task 'cause they're talking about a travel coming soon, and they need your help to check the motorcycles before leaving.

“Okay, I can do it tomorrow evening. Just leave me the keys at the office”. You say then supporting both forearms on the table, nodding for a while. “So, gas, oil and pressure… Yeah, it's fast to do'et”.

“Can you check my bike's direction? I think it's a little bit turned to the left”. Taza says then, and you know that's only a excuse to talk with you. Like, right now.

“Is it?” You hesitate, raising an eyebrow before having a sip of your drink, getting up of your bench.

“Yea', and the brake is a little hard. I think EZ squeezed too much”. He's getting up too, letting go the uncomfortable grip of his ex-wife.

“Okay, let's see”.

He walks next to you, offering you the keys so you can turn on his bike. Pressing softly the gas, to do the same with the brake. It's not. But seems like he wants to leave the yard, at least, for some minutes.

“I have the tools in my car”. You say then, turning of the engine to push the handlebar so you can make it moves. 

Going down the alley, with the Vicepresidente behind your back smoking a cigar, you reach the Camaro. You don't have any tools on it, but you really want to hear what he wants to tell you. So you simply leave the motorbike parked, next to your car, and resting your body sitting on it giving him the keys.

“She asked me to stay at the ranch”. He says then, keeping them inside one of his pockets. Sounds like you should reply something, but you'll not. It's his house, not yours. “I don' know what she doin'ere. But I don' even care”.

“Good for you, Taza”. You shrug with pursed lips.

“Let's be clear, kid. We're nothing”.

“Okay, I'm done with this bullshit”. You laugh loud getting up from his bike, and shaking your hands, trying to hide the bitterness and looking for the control remote of your car.

“Listen, listen”. Catching you by your left wrist, he stops your moves.

“It's fuckin' okay, Taza. You don' have to give me any explanation. I'm not your... fuckin' wife, nor your fuckin' girl. I get it. But let me tell you something. It's fucking grievous seeing a woman how fucked you up with a fuckin' Vato, trying to get back what she lost. And you, let her doin'et. You deserve good things, and you should love and respect yourself a little more”.

“Well, than'ya' for your kindly words. But I'm not letting her doin' nothen'. And I also talk her 'bout you”.

“Seems like she doesn' give a f— You did what?” Narrowing your eyes and letting you go, you cross your arms on the chest.

“We're nothing, but I would like to be something”. He clarifies you. “I asked her to leave and just came to pay what we fixed in her car. She stayed for a beer”.

“Yes, close of his ex-husband”.

“Focus on the fact I wan'to be with you, and not with her. Think about'e”.

Taza leaves you there, alone, carrying his bike when seems like you don't know what to reply at this words. Sitting on the hood of your car and lighting a cigar between your lips, you have a long smoke that rips your throat and also your tongue. You're somewhat jealous, you can't help but trying to see the point of playing smart to mark somekind of territory without looking like he's a piece of meat. But with that kind of women, it's all you can do. 

Putting well your shirt on, after throwing away the cigar, you walk towards the front yard with hands in your pockets. Some ideas are dancing in your head, trying to choose the best way to deal with it. But when you see her, sitting again by his side, and trying to hug him… Good lord, you can't help but losing your modals and your gentle mood. 

“Che, take me home”. You just say, stopping in front of the crew.

“Haven't you a car, ah?” She asks raising her chin somewhat proudly, grabbing the Vice's arm between hers.

“Haven't you a Vato's dick to suck, instead of annoying everyone around you?”

God, those words come from the depths of your soul. Making the guys chuckle as she gets up full of rage.

“Watch your mouth, niña. You don' know who I am”. Pointing your chest with a finger once and again.

“Yea', looks like I don' give a shit that I don' even know your name”. You face her, not afraid. “Southern border is close, come back to your hole, whore. You don' have anything to do here”.

“Did you ju—”.

“Shit, yes, I did”. You roll your eyes, being fast enough to avoid the slap straight to your face.

El padrino takes you back, as Bishop and Angel go to her before she can try it again.

“You heard her, go back to southern border”. Taza says placing himself between both, turning then to hold your forearm and leave the front yard.

You don't say anything into your way to his motorbike, putting on the helmet as he turns it on. Grabbing his waist with your hands, he runs out of the clubhouse. You know he's mad. You can feel the tension on his body, driving the road he knows by heart to your house, taking his time as he looks like he's thoughtful.

When he stations the bike in front of your house, so you can jump off of it, you keep his gaze.

“'You gonna leave?” You ask him a little bit nervous, taking off the helmet to supporting it against your abdomen.

“'Don' know. What you want?”

Hesitating for a second, you take a step closer placing a hand on his nape, to press your lips on his. It's the first time you two kiss, after some weeks wanting it. He pulls you away, thinking that you screwed it up, until you see him getting up to leave behind his back the motorbike. Cupping your cheeks on his huge hands, Taza kisses you again. Tangling your fingers in the flannel shirt to push him closer, your lips move alone on his. It's better than you could imagine, tasting the tequila in his saliva and beer in yours. A perfect mix. 

“So, are you gonna stay?” You almost beg between short and dearly kisses, finding yourself walking to your house, giving your back at it.

“Fuck, yes, baby”. He nods lifting you up, so you can surround his body with your legs.

[heresathreebee]

Garrote part 10

[Starz Power Diego Jimenez x Jazmine Mann (Black!OC)]

Word count: 3.1k words

Warning(s): Mature | Gun phobia, stalking. Diego and Healy get POVs in this one while Jazmine gets some R&R with the help from her mother. This is a plot only chapter, sorry. Previous Masterlist Next

Author’s Note: No beta reader and I’m far too exhausted to edit properly. After this story, I’m gonna adjust exactly how I format my fics. My million other fic ideas plus my debate over participating in NANOWRIMO this year have been keeping me from working on this too much, I figured it was time to put this up since the last chapter was posted in September... 

The rest of the day went by with a subtle ease. The temperature was just perfect for a coat and Diego seemed to have nowhere to be. Bordering on the miraculous, it was the man himself who asked her if she wanted to go out and have fun. Feeling caught off guard, Jazmine elected to throw caution to the wind and suggest something other than a fancy nightclub to hang out in. And when Diego heard the name, his jaw dropped. 

Two-Bit’s Retro Arcade. 

He did not ask why (though he did scoff, but more so in amusement than derision). Julio was elated to hear the address (apparently he’d been before), and Miguel looked crestfallen to have to stay at the penthouse. The journey from ritzy apartment to 25 cent arcade felt like being washed in time, stepping backwards into her past with a piece that didn't belong in that memory. 

The place was decently busy, there seemed to be no parties bigger than five. A collection of young kids took up the classics section, rotating between Dig Dug, Pac Man, and Tapper Light. The young man who played pinball every day was there. She didn't know his name but she knew his three letter handle because he had the highest score on every pinball machine in the arcade. The rest were small and easygoing groups, buying beers and gathering around prize winning claw games or Dance Dance Revolution. 

"Do they have air hockey?," Diego asked over her shoulder. He was dressed down per her request, in a simple hoodie and jeans. She kept glancing at him, feeling drawn to the simplicity of liking a simple man. 

"Over here." She had no intention of hiding how familiar she was with this place. Diego gave Julio a nod and the man dissolved into the background but was never out of sight. Suddenly, Jazmine became very aware that there were now at least two guns in this public space. Air hockey was... occupied. "Looks like a college tournament. Come on, we're not going to be able to play for like a week." 

She grabbed his arm to guide him away, but the man didn't budge. He stared those college boys down, looking for a fight. If he started something… 

"Diego. Diego! Please… it's just a game, I know a better one we won't have to share." 

At last he acquiesced and followed behind, never more than a foot away. She didn't realize she was holding her breath and wondered if those guys noticed his staring… they probably thought it was normal though. 

Jazmine brought Diego to the darkest corner of the arcade where nobody was or needed to pass by. If she stopped dead in her tracks, Diego would have tripped over her immediately for how close he was, but now that he had her exclusive attention, she didn't mind. She gestured to her favorite game and smiled. 

"Welcome to Marvel Vs Capcom: Clash of Superheroes," she announced. "Nobody plays this version because there's a huge glitch that sometimes makes one character untouchable." 

"OK." Diego wore a sly grin. No doubt he intended to find the cheat character and win all matches, but Jazmine knew all of this game's little secrets. 

Unsurprisingly, Diego's first pick was Wolverine. Jazmine refrained from rolling her eyes and let him work through the board of player characters, picking her own at random and sometimes picking the one she knew would fair better against his character to make it an even game. She watched his brow grow tighter and tighter as he couldn't find the broken character. He even switched up strategies– picking the characters that looked the least strong and working up from there (the opposite of his earlier choices). At last, he picked Chun-Li, having not noticed Jazmine picked it three times already, and he glanced at her face once more to see if she reacted, but the woman gave nothing away. Not until he looked towards the screen did she crack a smile. 

The way the smugness drained off of Diego's face made her smile broaden. He looked at the controls as if they were to blame, then to Jazmine and back to the screen where Chun Li had walked off of the edge of the screen. Annoyed, he leaned over the controls menacingly and waited for an explanation from the Cheshire cat grin on his partner's face. 

It took her awhile to answer him– she was trying really hard to fight the bubbling laughter in her belly. "Yeah, that um… that's what I was talking about. If you play the same character four times, the game breaks. You can't be hit but you also can't hit and you need to hold down the joystick to keep from walking off the edge of the screen… if you let them get away, well… you have to unplug the whole system." 

Diego looked pissed. He stared her down for so long she gulped but eventually, he freed her from his penetrative gaze. His hand slipped under her jacket and found a home at the base of her spine, and suddenly she was being whisked away towards the bathrooms. 

"Where are we–" 

Diego wasted not a breath and pushed her into the women's bathroom (unsurprisingly closet sized), before crowding her space to step inside and lock the door behind. Her heart began to pound against her chest as he turned and fixed her with a commanding glare. He moved as sly as a big cat, forcing her to find purchase against the tiny wood counter with the sink and leaning over her with his lips pressed to her nose. 

He said something softly in Spanish that she didn't understand, but it sounded sultry and it sent a pleasant shiver down her back. She thought he was going to kiss her, but then there was something hard and heavy he pressed into her hand. 

A gun. 

Her eyes bulged– glancing quickly between him and the shiny dark metal of the killing contraption– and shook her head minutely. 

"Take it," he said. She just kept shaking her head, hiding her hands beneath her arms and feeling dizzy, on the verge of passing out. He growled. "I wasn't asking." 

If he wasn't pressed against her, she would be rocking for comfort. Jazmine did not like guns. Her eyes misted over as she whispered, "why?" 

"They've been following us since we left." He slid the wretched mechanism up along her arm and let it rest just below her collarbone. "Haagen's men probably. They're getting bolder– probably by their master's orders." He tilted his head as if he was speaking of something completely mundane as he said, "did you really think those air hockey guys were college students? It's a Thursday." 

Jazmine didn't mean to whimper, but she managed to keep her tears at bay long enough to touch a finger to the gun, not quite taking it, but letting him know she would. She let him show her the safety and slipped it into the back of her pants, careful not to hurt her and demonstrating an awareness of her southpaw. He was almost hugging her when he finally stepped back (as far as the little toilet would allow). When his heel clinked against the porcelain, he turned to make sure he hadn't stepped in a mess, and Jazmine bolted. 

~

"Hello?" 

There was no one else's voice she wanted to hear more than that of Lashawn Mann. Jazmine felt guilt well up alongside the anxiety that had been threatening to consume her for weeks. 

"Mama?" Her voice sounded so small in her own ears. "Can I come over and see you?" 

"Of course, baby. You can come see me right now: I'm at your place." 

Jazmine caught a cab from Essex street home, and though Diego possessed an acute lack of awareness for personal space or feelings, he did leave her alone for a while. No SUVs with fake licenses trailed her home, no voicemails and no texts came through. She put it in airplane mode to make sure things stayed that way. She had a thought to drop Healy's hearing aid down a drain but put it in her pocket instead. 

Lashawn was waiting with Hercules. The tiny bit of annoyance Jazmine usually felt about getting slobbered on washed away the instant she saw her furry grey friend. The woman plopped her butt onto the ground and let the dog run amok in excitement to see her again. 

"Mom…" Hercules settled down in her lap and weighed her to the earth like an anchor for a ship at sea. "If something happens to me, will you take care of her?" 

"What do you mean 'if something happens to you'? Child, I ain't heard from you in two months and you come back with that?" Lashawn sat down on the floor despite her bad knees and leaned on her daughter's shoulder. "Baby, what's going on with you?" 

~

Estupido. She shouldn't have run away like that. 

Diego was overthinking in the backseat while Julio sat in perfect silence. The driver would have preferred the radio on, but his boss demanded the proper atmosphere to brood in. Taking what little he knew of the woman, Jazmine was probably going to retreat to her apartment since he lived in the only other place she was safe. Whatever– she would return in her own time. Unless her own time hindered their operation. 

We can't lose this opportunity. We are so close to Porsche and revenge. Hurry up, cariño. Make our next move. 

Diego was stuck deep inside his head even as he stood with his sister hours later in yet another huge warehouse with examples to be made of. Alicia wiped the blade of her knife onto her bodyguard's sleeve, then turned the blade over to her brother. 

"Finish the last one, will you?" 

Diego hummed, distracted by the conversation at the edge of the half circle. He did not like what he heard. He dug the blade straight into the crying man's heart, then cut his throat just for good measure. The blood on his hands was drying before he was able to speak again. He and Alicia were sat in her limo across from each other. She tactfully ignored his piercing gaze, while he worried the stickiness between his fingers mindlessly. 

"What's this I hear about you staying in New York?" 

Alicia glanced coolly up from inspecting her nails. "What do you mean? Someone needs to run the business." 

"That's what that idiot and your little fuck toy Dre are for. They deal with shit here while we get Porsche back, and then we go home. Together." 

"No," she shrugged. "Dre can't be trusted, Diego. I'm staying, you're going back to Mexico. We can split parent: the girl comes to live with me for a while and then with you. Every month or so…?" 

Diego's hands ball into fists and his teeth hurt from the pressure of keeping his jaw closed. Fucking puta, he thought as the car slowed to a stop. Exiting the car, the man pulled himself up to his full height and reveled in the brief moment of fear that registered on her face. 

"I'm not your errand boy, hermana. I don't do things because you think it's convenient. And I won't be sent away like an annoying pest so you can trounce about in luxury while I'm stuck doing peasant work. Am I the only one worried about that little fucking girl?" 

Through the marble stonework of her mask, he saw the cracks in her armor. "We can talk about this later, Diego." 

"Do you even want her back?," he sneered. 

"Stop it!" 

Alicia pushed him out of her way and disappeared quickly, her entourage scurrying to follow her. Diego looked to his men to find them with their eyes cast down as if they were witness to something they should never see. He stormed away with his head full of rage and more questions than answers. 

~

Meanwhile in a stuffy police office space, Healy was getting chewed out. His superiors figured him out, and now he was sat in interrogation with a furious pair of agents awaiting an explanation and disciplinary action. 

"You took it too far, Healy," his boss said. "I mean, you have really outdone yourself this time." 

"Yes sir." 

"Fucking A, right!" Agent Brasa slammed her hand on the table. No doubt she was chewing a huge wad of nicotine gum and gunning for his immediate firing. "This was our case, Healy, ours. Mine and Holbrooke, not yours!" 

Holbrooke remained ever brooding, silently leaning against the wall and watching the scene unfold. Though they made remained neutrally poised, he could tell by the pinch in their brow they were just as angry as Brasa. Healy had given up trying to talk to Brasa, and instead appealed to Holbrooke this time. 

"You two have every right to be angry with me–" 

"Oh do I??" Brasa cut in, "I didn't realize I needed your permission to be pissed off!" 

"-- but I did it because I had an 'in.' I saw an opportunity that only I could have seized, and–" 

"Are you really going to let him get away with this, Stahlworth?" Brasa looked accusingly at their boss, who merely scratched at his neck and closed his eyes as if keeping them open pained him greatly. 

"Brasa. Holbrooke. Out. I'll handle this the way I see fit– and don't argue with me, Marie, or I'll put you on suspension." 

The two stormed out into the hall, and finally Healy was able to breathe. As soon as he had been confronted by Stahlworth, he had come clean– setting up a covert op without agency permission and using a civilian to distract the perp while he slipped a mole into the organization and collected information. Brasa and Holbrooke had done amazing work– they discovered Haagen was the head, profiled the victims, and knew many of the locations of the exchanges– but they couldn't get any further to seizure warrants or when the exchanges were taking place. 

Healy looked pleadingly at Stahlworth. "They didn't have the resources to cover all those locations with proper 24 hour surveillance, Jack. Haagen is always one step ahead of them– of us– anyways because someone in this very organization is on his payroll. I don't need the glory, I don't want the case to myself– I just want this fucker behind bars. If you have to suspend me, I understand, if you have to fire me, I get it– but please don't throw out my evidence. People's lives are on the line, and Brasa and Holbrooke need this info–" 

"Who's your informant?" Healy snapped his mouth shut as the dreaded words left Stahlworth to hang menacingly in the air. "Healy? Who. Is your. Informant? Who are you working with? Give me a clearer picture of what you've been up to, and maybe I'll ask the DA to go easy on your ass." 

Healy gritted his teeth and dug his heels in. "I can't tell you any of that. A mole for a mole, I can't afford to trust that the eyes and ears in this very room are sound. Now if you want to pass this case back over to the agents it belongs to, I just have a few conditions concerning the safety of–" 

"Is this about Meghan?," Stahlworth asked. 

Healy's voice died in his throat. A lump formed and he had to swallow it down before it consumed him completely. Standing from his chair, Healy buttoned his coat and came face to face with his boss. 

"This is about the kids I can still save. Sir."

~

After LaShawn helped Jazmine pack her belongings, the daughter decided to take Hercules to the park for some fresh air. Her mother had made it clear she wanted Jazmine to move back in with her since she'd lost her job, but what she didn't know was that before Healy and Haagen, Jazmine was two months behind on rent, and she should have lost the lease to her apartment weeks ago. As it stood now, the landlord hadn’t bothered her once– so someone was paying her bills. Exactly who would remain a mystery as Diego, Healy, and Haagen possessed the means and the interest in keeping her in New York City, so she tried not to think too hard about it. 

Jazmine picked a spot in the grass and let Herc off the leash. She threw a beat up tennis ball with a little cheap plastic arm and watched her happy grey pupper zip around picnickers and other dog walkers, always stopping to be petted by every little girl and boy who squealed happily to see her. The woman was jumpy and constantly on edge, but for some reason she barely flinched when Diego sat down next to her. 

"I'll be honest, I'm glad you're here," she said without looking his way. 

He took the plastic arm and threw the next ball watching Hercules trot over hill and dale for this throw. "Did Healy tell you about Porsche?" 

Jazmine turned to see the dark bags under Diego's eyes. "He said something about a missing baby… is that what you mean?" 

The man leaned into her shoulder. "Yes." 

"I'm sorry, Diego." 

"I want my baby back, Jazmine. I want to watch her grow up happy and healthy and loved." He turns to look at her with an expression of maturity she didn't think he was capable of. "That's why I need you. We need you. You're probably scared, but you can't be more scared than that little girl is right now." 

It felt like a punch to the gut. Part of her was annoyed by his dismissal of her fear, but for the most part she understood. It wasn't hard to figure out what happened to older girls and boys in Haagen's ring, but what the fuck was he doing with babies? The thought twisted her stomach until her head ached from nausea. 

Diego continued, scratching at his eye to cover the build up of tears that threatened to spill out. "Healy said he found evidence of sales for kids under 13 that looked more like adoption papers than anything. Requirements for private education and a separate bedroom, things like that. He said he has a stack with no names but six of them are around her age with the name of the adoptive parents on it. It's a start." 

"It's a very good start." Jazmine placed her hand on Diego's back and let him curl into her side with a sigh. "It means she's still alive, that's fantastic... do you think Haagen noticed the papers were missing? He probably has so many…" 

Diego shrugged noncommittally and dragged her down to lay in the grass with Hercules. As he did, she felt the gun in her pants dig into her back, tightening that fist clenched around her heart. She was safe for now, in this moment. But would she ever be again?

@mental-bycatch @nicke0115 @1zashreena1 @girlpornparadise @kid-from-new-zealand​

[justmewoo]

Rest In Peace [ Tony Stark x Male Son Reader] One Shot

IMPORTANT NOTE: PLEASE LISTEN TO THE SONG UNTIL THE MIDDLE OF THE STORY. UNLESS YOU WANT TO LISTEN AND READ EVERYTHING AT THE SAME TIME IT'S UP TO YOU GUYS. IF YOU WOULD LIKE ME TO CONTINUED THIS STORY AND TURN IT INTO A MINI SERIES LET ME KNOW! I PLAN ON DOING FAR FROM HOME BUT LET ME KNOW!

THIS STORY IS 4.9K WORDS ENJOY! THIS WILL CONTAIN LOTS OF ANGST!

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Loki is gone.

Asgard got destroyed in Ragnarok.

Thor is gone with the guardians of the galaxy. 

Tony has died and Thanos is gone. 

Natasha risk her life to get the stone. 

Clint is back with his family after five painful years. 

Vision died protecting the soul stone. 

Bruce turned into the Hulk and combined both into one.

Scott and Hope became together and reunited with his daughter.

Steve went back in time to return all the infinity stones and retired been captain America.

Wanda is heartbroken at the lost of Vision and her brother. 

Sam is the new Captain America. 

Bucky is fighting alongside Sam. 

T'challa is back in Wakanda ruling his country with his people. 

Peter is living his life and protecting the city as Spider Man. 

Happy is helping Peter just the way Tony would have wanted to. But Peter is has gained a new ally.

Doctor Strange is back in New York keeping the Time stone safe and Wong is by his side. 

Pepper is raising Morgan with the help of the remaining team and me her step son. 

Valkyrie is the new queen of New Asgard. 

And I've become the new Iron Man of New York. 

To say it simply, everyone is still broken inside. No matter how much times passes we will never forget everything that's happened. 

These events didn't happen in that order but it's what I was told when I had return back to New York. I was only seventeen years old when the world when in chaos. Now as I return i'm a twenty one year old who's found out about his father's death and the marriage with his new wife who had given me a little sister. 

Dad wanted me out of the country and didn't want my life to be in danger for been Tony Stark's son. So I study abroad in Australia until I graduated from high school and somewhat graduated from college. When the snap happened I was given orders to stay put and not come back. So Happy flew to me in Australia to keep me company and out of trouble even though I wasn't a trouble maker. But, dad still wanted me to be safe. So when I found out about dad and Pepper having Morgan I was too busy to meet her. Over the course of five years, I was away in Australia trying to live a normal life again. It wasn't easy seen so many people disappear and turn into dust. Half of Australia was gone and things weren't how it used to be. I didn't even know either about my own dad been lost in space for weeks. I had to push through college with the rest of the college kids to continue our studies the best we all could do. 

I continued to keep in contact with dad and Pepper but never got a chance to meet Morgan in face only through pictures. But one day Pepper informed me about how dad and what had been left of the team were going to bring everyone back using time travel and that I had nothing to worried about. That same day when I got the call from Pepper it was early morning here when people had suddenly begun to reappear. From that moment on I had known everything must have been fine. But, deep inside me a sudden feeling of sadness suddenly hit me. While everyone was happy to be reunited again I was inside my house crying.

"You're father is dead." I could still hear those words echo inside my head to this day. Pepper had called Happy that morning when the fight against Thanos took place back in their compound. While everyone around me celebrated the coming back of their love ones. I had lost the person I most cared about. I couldn't be happy for anyone at least not at that moment. 

A few hours later here I am now standing in front of the cabinet in the middle of the woods wearing a black suit. I had wore my dad's watch and upgraded thanks to Happy's help. It was the one that armed one of his first suits but into a more modern kind. I also wore a pair of old black glasses that dad had given me when I left for Australia. I took a deep breath before I continued to make my way towards the cabinet to see everyone from the team and others were standing there watching as Pepper and Morgan with Steve walked towards the pond carrying the arc reactor Pepper gave my dad. 

In that instant, the only thing I wanted to do was yell and scream at the top of my lungs. But instead, I stood all the way in the back of the cabinet listening to the funeral and ceremony. Happy had gone with Pepper and Morgan to drop off the arc reactor on top of a big flower crown. I stood on the side with my back on the wall with arms crossed and head low. 

"Come on, [Male Name] you have to eat your vegetables." I was five years old at the moment. Dad was alone in the Stark Tower and it was dinner time. But I didn't want to eat the vegetables on my plate. I frowned shaking my head and crossing my small arms. 

"No, I hate vegetables! They taste bad! I want candy and donuts! My friends eat that every day so I want that too!" I yelled. 

Dad was not having it that day. He had been up all night the day before fixing his suits and was not happy about dealing with a screaming five year old. "Come on, squirt eat the vegetables they are good for you." He tried feeding me with his finger. 

"No daddy, I don't want to turn green like the hulk. Thor told me I will turn green from eating too many broccolis." I yelled in tears taking off running away from him. 

"Dammit Thor.. [Male Reader] come back! You won't turn green if you eat them!" That night I couldn't stop crying. It was silly but at the age of five you tend to believe everything adults tell you. So the only way I stopped crying was when he brought me some donuts with chocolate milk to eat for dinner. 

The next day when Thor was in the tower my dad had been rough on him even got yank by the ear and had made him apologize to me. "I'm so sorry young [Male Name] I should have never told you such lies. In fact, if you eat all of your vegetables everyday you will grow up to become strong and handsome like me." I giggled hugging him and dad. 

"I want to become like you and daddy!" From that day forward I always ate my vegetables but as I grew up. I knew that I was never going to become like them. But even so, I enjoyed eating them. 

 Listening to my father's memorial continued to bring more and more memories. All the moments we both shared together from the fights we had because of his work and health. There was this one time when Pepper had to bring him home drunk from one of his party's. I was about ten years old the first time I had talked back to him. 

It was way before my dad realized he loved my father and began to date. I still remember clearly when it happened. The day of the party was during a school night. He had promised me early in the morning before school about spending the day together before his party. But dad didn't keep his promise instead he sent Happy for me that day to school. "Dad, can we go eat a cheeseburger after school. They have new fries that are coming out today. Can we please go!" I beg him hugging his leg. 

Dad played with my hair picking me up. "Of course squirt, now come on you can't be late for school." Dad hurried me into the car. But before I got inside I took out my pinky looking straight at him. "Dad promise me you will take me after school." I said seriously.

Dad bends down to my height intertwining his pinky with mine. "I promise squirt." The whole day in school I couldn't stop thinking of spending the afternoon with him. I was in such a good mood that day that, I didn't mind getting a big project that day. 

But, boy was I wrong. That afternoon when Happy had picked me up from school. I was upset and angry at them both because Happy did not want to take me to eat a burger that day. So I didn't get to try the new fries with a cheeseburger that day. Happy said dad was in a meeting all day and wasn't coming home till night time because of the party he was having that night. I had to spend the whole day with Happy. Whenever I would stay with him it was always fun but that day I wasn't in the mood for anything. It wasn't until around eight at night when Steve had picked me up from Happy's. 

"Goodnight [Male Name]." I turn around not wanting to see his face anymore and buried my face in Steve's shoulder. Steve patted my back and carried my backpack and jacket. "Goodnight Happy come on, let's get going." I got inside Steve's car and road all the way home in silence except for the radio that was playing old music. 

On the way home I decided to break the silence." Steve, why do you listen to music from the old days?" I asked sitting in the back seat looking out the window. 

"Well.... because I was born back in the old day but got frozen for many years. So this music reminds me of the good old days I once used to live." 

"I see..... Steve if you had a son about my age would you break a pinky promise and disappoint your only son?" I asked looking at him. 

Steve got taken back by the sudden question taking a few seconds to respond back. "Of course, I wouldn't sport if I had a son your age I would never break a promise especially a pinky promise. Those are extremely important and must not be broken. But you have to understand that your dad is Iron Man so he has a big responsibility with the community and needs to attend events. But that doesn't mean he does not care about you [Male Reader]." 

I frowned in silence thinking about what he had just said. After we arrived at the Tower that night Steve helped me changed into my pajamas and checked my teeth for cavities. Steve had tucked me in bed and read me a bedtime story so I could fall asleep while dad was gone. He even stook around a few minutes until I fell asleep which unfortunately lasted only about three hours. It was around past midnight when I heard sounds coming from downstairs.

 

"JARVIS who's downstairs," I whispered half asleep to him. 

"It appears to be Mr. Stark and Miss Potts who have arrived at the Tower. Would you like me to inform them about you waking up?" 

I shook my head. "No, don't tell them anything." I yawned laying back to sleep but the bit of anger I still had kept me awake. Hearing noises still coming from downstairs I decided to confront my dad about today. 

I got up from my bed running towards my bedroom door and quietly closed the door behind me and ran quietly through the hallways until I reached the elevator. Once the elevators door opened I went inside and pressed the button for downstairs and patiently waited. As the doors open my dad and Pepper appear before my eyes. Both were wearing fancy clothing. But as I took a look at my dad I could tell he was very drunk. I could smell the odor from all the alcohol he's drank all night. 

"Is this the example you give me?" I yelled at him. He was caught off guard smiling big when he saw me walking towards their direction. Dad walked over to me embracing me into a hug. I quickly escaped from been hug and ran behind Pepper. "Hey, bud what you doing up so late huh? Where you waiting for me all night to get home." He said. 

I continued to his behind Pepper. "Of course not dad, i'm angry at you because you didn't pick me up from school. You broke your pinky promise!" I said pointing a finger at him.

"Don't be so harsh on me [Male Name] you are hurting my feelings.... I know tomorrow I will buy you anything you want. How does that sound? Better yet, no school for you tomorrow." 

"Tony! You can't do that what kind of example are you giving him. Please, don't listen to anything of this tomorrow I will take you to the burger place we can both go together." 

"Thank you, Pepper you are the best. Dad, I hate you! I don't want to live with you anymore!" I yelled running towards the elevator. Dad called my name but I didn't want to hear anything from him. That night I had sneaked into Natasha's room to sleep in. I quietly opened her room and snuggled with her in the giant bed she had. The next morning she was surprised to see me fall asleep in her bed. 

Nat didn't question why I had barged into her room until the next morning. I had explained everything that happened and how I didn't want to sleep alone in my room by myself. She was so kind that Nat helped me get ready for school and was going to talk to my dad about the argument from last night. 

In the morning after getting ready Pepper had arrived early to take me to school because I didn't want to see Happy either. "Behave good in school I will be here waiting for you to pick you up so we can go eat together." 

I hugged her feeling better. "Okay, I promise to come out super fast so we can go eat and play all day." I ran away from her waving goodbye as I walked inside the school. Later that day, when I came out of school I didn't see Pepper anywhere. I looked everywhere in the school entrance but she wasn't here. Until, a few minutes later when dad came to the front gate running towards me. I was feeling confused about why he was picking me up instead of Pepper like she promise she would. 

"Why are you here? Where's Pepper she promise she would pick me up." I half yell feeling angry again. 

"Pepper's here squirt she's waiting in the car with Happy. I came with her so we can both take you to eat burgers." He said ruffling my hair. I removed his hand from my head frowning. 

"I don't want to go anymore, I want to go home." I turned around facing him with my back and arms crossed feeling angry. 

Dad didn't say anything but instead carried me on his back taking off running to the car. He hadn't carried me like this since I was five years old. So all the anger went away and instead giggles came out of my mouth. That day was the happiest day of my life. He spoiled me and bought me everything I wanted including take out food for dinner. And all of the deserts I wanted to eat but it was a bad idea to get everything off the menu. Pepper had lectured him for spoiling me and the big stomach ache I have gotten. But it was all worth it because I had gotten to spend the whole day with the people I love in this world. 

I hadn't noticed that the ceremony was done until I felt my pants been tug by a small hand. That's when I realized I had tears running down my face. But, it was barely seen by others because of the black shades I was wearing. I looked down and saw it was Morgan wearing a black dress with her hair down looking up at me. As I looked down my glance had suddenly drifted to the lake but I saw everyone looking my way with sad eyes. Pepper was the first to speed walk my way. I looked down at Morgan and carried her in my arms meeting Pepper halfway. We embraced each other along with Morgan. Pepper looked at me with sad eyes and a small smile. "I'm so sorry you couldn't see him alive again." 

"Nonsense, there's no need of apologizing. I was able to talk with him the day of their plan to bring everyone back. He told me there would be a chance that something would happen. So I understood that it was possible something bad would have happened to him and he was right." I said hugging Pepper again. "I promise to take care of you and Morgan." I gave each a kiss and wiped her tears away with my thumb. I hugged both one more time before walking away. But Pepper had given me directions of something dad left me to see. 

We stood for a few minutes like that until slowly the team was coming forward one by one giving me their support and apologizes for what happened. As I talked with everyone Morgan went with Happy on the porch. I have to admit been surrounded by the team and new recruits made me feel home. I got to meet the guardians of the galaxy, Doctor Strange, Scott Lang, and his team. I was finally able to meet Peter Parker and his aunt. Furry and Maria where here as well. I was finally able to see Bruce again but turned into the Hulk. I saw the damaged on his arm from using the gauntlet that brought everyone back. I saw Clint and finally met his three children and wife. I also met Bucky and Wanda who had joined the team. The king of Wakanda with his mother and sister were here too. Everyone in the team was shocked at how grown i've looked. The last time they saw me I was sixteen and now that i'm twenty one they were shocked at how much I have changed. 

When I met Peter Parker he's reaction was something I was not expecting. The moment I introduced myself to him Peter almost fell down on the ground if it wasn't for his aunt's help. "Are, you alright?" I asked concerned. 

Peter nodded. I offered my hand towards him too shake. As we shook hands he couldn't help but stare at me. As if he has seen a ghost or something worse. "Yeah..... yeah, I'm fine it's just.... you look a lot like Mr. Stark."

I half smiled at him. "You think so, my dad told me a lot about you, Peter. I know you spent a lot of time together with my dad... I have to admit I was a bit jealous always hearing about you." Peter frowned confused and guilty. "Wait before you ask anything let me finish what I want to say. I did get jealous of you because all I heard was Peter this, Spiderman that but either way, i'm grateful for everything you did. I know you and I aren't related but now that I have a family to protect. There's a lot of things I need to learn so maybe if you help me train I can help you with making new suits and gadgets. How does that sound? I know that i'm not my father but I don't want all of his efforts to go to waste."

Peter and his aunt both looked at one another then back at me accepting my offer. "Yes! I- I mean of course I accept your offer."

"Great. I'll contact you so wait for my call." I patted his back making way towards the cabinet seen Morgan sitting down next to Happy. I passed by them ruffling her hair before opening the door and shutting it behind me. I took a look around at my surroundings before I seeing my dad's helmet sit in a small table. I finally took the decision of taking off the sunglasses. I walked towards the helmet carrying it in my hands. I took a seat on the couch with both hands wrapped around the helmet. 

There was a small button on the back of the helmet. Pepper said to push on it so that the recording of him could play. I took a deep breath before pressing the button and set it back down on the small table. A sudden blue light appeared and so did dad. He was sitting down on a chair before standing up walking in front of me. "Dad." I whispered watching his every move.

[Play the music] 

"I know that by now you must be seeing this and probably blaming yourself for what happened to me. But, I should be the one blaming myself for sending you away to the other side of the world. I still remember the day you were born. I was a mess when your mother told me she was pregnant with you. I was also nervous when Pepper told me she was pregnant with Morgan. Becoming a father is easy enough, but being one can be very rough. Fathers provide not only support but also encouragement words to their children. Now, that i'm gone your sister and Peter will need someone to guide them. I know you're only twenty one but and it's a lot to handle but please look after them. You are my son that to my father I could never be. My father didn't tell me how to live, he lived and let me watch him do it. I promise myself never to become the type of father he was.  

"Dad you're someone to look up to no matter how tall i've grown. I won't let her forget about you never."Tears began to fall down my cheeks. 

"I want you to forgive me for leaving and not being able to be there for you when and if you need me, but I want you to know one thing above all else. I love you so much that I can't describe the feelings that I'm going through." I want you to grow up into a young man and be a success at whatever you attempt to do. The time that I did spend with you was a wonderful and enjoyable time in my life and you helped make it that way. This is very hard for me to say because I kept crying every time I tried to record this, knowing that I will not be here when you are seeing this. The sadness keeps overwhelming me and tears are flowing down my face. I'm so very proud of you and you have shown me just how smart you are all ready. I expect you to grow and be able to use your head to think things out and to be able to ask questions if you don't understand something. I want you to face life and the problems that it gives you a positive outlook because if you think of the bright things in life, it makes the bad things not so bad after all! You are a beautiful and smart boy and I wish you all the luck and good fortune a person could ever want or need. I left you all of my suits and tools in the garage. Use those to protect this city but, more importantly, use them to protect Pepper and your sister."

"I love you 3000."

Dad smiled one last time until the image disappeared. I clenched my hands in disperse the black sunglasses rested in my left hand. I could see my reflection through the black lenses. My eyes were filled with watery eyes puffy and red from all the crying i've done just listening to his message. I looked down at the old watch on my wrist. I stood up from the couch and walked over to the window taking a look outside. I wiped the tears away from eyes and put back on my glasses. Seen everyone still sticking around with sad faces in the cabinet gave me an idea. I smiled for the first time in days looking up at the ceiling nodding to myself. "I know what to do."

After a few minutes of staying in silence, I took the decision of walking outside with them. I quietly opened the door walking out in silence. Happy and Morgan were no longer by the porch. I took a deep breath before making the decision to speak in a loud voice. "I know this is going to sound crazy coming from a twenty one year old who's now old enough to drink." Everyone stopped what they were doing and listened. "But my goal doesn't stop for anyone. Either you support me or I make it happen alone. Either way, it is going to happen. Those were my father's words, and I couldn't help but remember them this very second. The reason why I remember those words is because it was the last thing he told me over the phone. I didn't have a clue on what he meant but now I do." I said looking at everyone. My tone went from friendly to serious. "My father ended his life for the sake of this planet I, won't let his sacrifice be in vain. I thought this through and will keep the promise he asked me to keep. Ladies and gentlemen, you are all looking at the new Iron Man. This planet will never and I say NEVER will have another life be lost. This place will never be invaded by another villain ever. Because as long as i'm around there won't be any more deaths. I'm not only representing my father in his honor, but im also here representing Natasha, Vision, and Loki." I said proudly hugging Pepper and carrying Morgan on my shoulders. I could see the proud faces of Steve, Thor, Clint, Wanda, Rhodey, Bruce, Happy, Furry, and Pepper. I looked over to Peter who watched quietly. "The scared twenty one year you saw earlier today is gone. Whoever wants to join my team and I is welcome to participate. But from now on there won't be any more pain or suffering." 

"[Male Reader] your dad would be so proud of you." Steve said sending a nod at me. 

"Where ever they are I'm sure they're all proud of you." Wanda said. 

"I made a promise to take care of my family. And that includes everyone here I know with their help from up there we will be fine. Now with both of my parents up there together I know for a fact they won't let anything bad happen to me or to everyone close to me." I answered truthfully. I placed Morgan back on the ground handed her my dad's sunglasses and step away far from them. I clicked on the button of the watch activating the black and gold suit of armor I had created back in Australia. It was a replica of my dad's suit he used back in 2015 except with a new model and color. It had both names of my parents carved in with black ink on the back of the helmet. The suit unfolded it's self as I flew a few feet off the ground. I pressed a button on the left corner of the helmet so the helmet could open revealing my face and stared down at everyone from above. 

I looked everywhere smirking until my eyes landed on Peter." This is your chance, Peter let's go there's stuff you need to learn." I said rising up to the sky. Peter looked at his aunt. "Can I go, I won't be home late." 

His aunt May push the excited fifteen year old. Surprisingly Peter was wearing his Spider Man suit under his black suit. Peter took off running my direction revealing his suit and mask. "Be careful Peter, bring him back safe [Male Reader]" Aunt May yelled. 

"I will May! Anyone else wants to join us? I have room for more if anyone is up for it. Rhodey, Thor, Guardians of the galaxy, Doctor Strange? I know about your power." I flew further into the sky as Peter swings on his spider webs. I pressed the button again closing the helmet. 

This brought smiles to everyone. "You're crazy Stark." Thor yelled. 

"Just be careful come back safe you here me." Pepper yelled. "How are you even flying that thing." She asked carrying Morgan in her arms. 

"We'll be careful, A Stark never reveals his secrets. Morgan, I'll bring you tons of cheeseburgers for dinner!" I smiled under my helmet waving goodbye to everyone. "Let's go, Parker!" 

"I'm right behind you Mr. Stark I mean [Male Name].... you have a nice name sir." As we flew further away from the forest and into the sky I couldn't help but see my father smiling down at us. 

"Thanks, Peter but, just call me [Male Name]."

@art-estrange

[freyalor]

I know I'm about two million years late for the prompt thing, but could I ask for Trevilieu, "a visit from an old friend"? Thank you! (And feel absolutely free to say no if you so wish!)

I have finally filled your prompt, Doctor!

Enjoy:

 The Rosary of Loudun (also on AO3)

2700words. A few tears maybe.

For those who sent messages and asks - I ALWAYS TAKE PROMPTS!Keep them coming, I guarantee I never forget anyone. I have post-it notes.

He gave me thatrosary on the day of the Paix de Loudun.

I was nothing morethat the Bishop of the dirtiest town of France by then, nothing morethan a shadow in the Medici’s footsteps. I was twenty-five at most,my eyes were barely looking up to the King’s Council with vaguedistant hope, and he was already the fiercest Capuchin of France.

But the raging warbetween the Queen and Condé made us meet almost every month, and wefound ourselves smiling at each-other’s wits more than once. I hadto bite my lips a thousand times not to finish his sentences, as hemost annoyingly failed to do the same for mine.

He struggled andschemed to be seated at my side at every banquet we were both invitedto, making a show of eating an absurdly small amount of food, in awooden bowl and in complete silence, only to make the opulence ofeveryone else’s plate look positively sinful.

It made me smileevery time.

He was looking foran ally of influence inside the Royal Palace, and I had my own seatnext to the Queen’s. I was looking for information about the tradesand alliances between the great Lords of France, and he had aspiderweb of Capuchin informants covering the whole Kingdom.

We didn’t meet. Wecollided. We merged together.

I think, beyond theobvious symmetry of our purposes, that we were both craving for theintellectual stimulation. Let’s face it, at that time, we were bothsurrounded by idiots.

He mostly paidvisits for political advice at first. He came in with information,reports, news and letters. We discussed, sometimes for hours, oftenfor whole sleepless nights. Then, exhausted and satisfied, he alwaysasked for a glass of wine, and though his capuchin discipline was anexample for all, he never watered down the first glass I served him.

Then, with time, hestarted to visit more and more without a clear reason, without anyreason. He started to just barge in my rooms, sit in the same chair,ask for the same wine, and speak.

He’s always beenthe travelling man, while I barely left Paris. So he had a lot todescribe me. The winters of Russia, the forests of Prussia. Thesun-crushed villages of Italy, and the seashores of Sweden. He neverforgot to bring me small mementos, for my Cabinet of Curiosities,where almost every item has been a gift from him. Some of them areunique, some of them are precious, but none of this has more valuethan the first thing he ever pushed into my hands.

The rosary ofLoudun.

He came back toParis this day, with the peace treaty held tight against his chest,and ran straight to my room in the Queen’s apartments. Before heeven showed the document to the Medici, before he even announced thePeace to the palace, he wanted me to read it first.

-“Are yousatisfied with it?” I asked.

And I remember hejust shrugged.

-“It gives Condéan insane amount of money, but that’s all this rascal wanted.” Hegrumbled. “The only redeeming feature of this thing is that I madesure to strip Concini of half of his titles as a peace offering tothe Princes, because it gives you more space, you know, for later.”

He had the certaintyof my becoming a Cardinal, and a Minister of the King, long before Iever did.

He always had morefaith in me than I could ever have.

-“You weresupposed to work for the Queen and the Pope,” I reminded him; “notfor me.”

He smiled, then,and pulled those worn out, plain rosewood beads out of his darkrobes, whispering:

-“I live andbreathe for two things. Church, and France.”

With that, he gentlyplaced the rosary in my hands, closing my fingers around it andkissing them twice, looking up to me with quiet confidence as hesaid:

-“And I know, oneday, for me and for the whole world, you’ll be the embodiment ofboth.”

Am I, now?

Am I?

I have becomeCardinal. I am the head of the King’s Council. I am Minister. I ameverything.

But am I Church,am I France?

I softly graze theshining beads with my fingertips, sitting in silence on that highchair in the guest rooms of my own house.

Well, if I am inmy friend’s eyes, that’s enough of a blessing.

I hear the doorclicking open and I get up from my seat, wincing. God, how long haveI been sitting here? It must be dreadfully late.

I take a furtivelook out the windows, to my gardens al’italienne. I had the servants lighttwo hundred torches in the alleys between the fountains and themassive Arch, so they could be seen all night long, and around a hugebrazier, a small choir is singing hopeful prayers in the orchardbelow the rooms.

He always loved mysmall house in Reuil, so I wanted him to enjoy the beauty of it everysecond, even in the darkest hours of the night.

The physician stepsout and holds the door open for me. I do my best to steel myselfbefore I look at him in the eyes, but when I do, I still fail tosuppress a whimper.

It’s over, hisstern features say.

It’s over.

No.

I have a glare ofpure anger for the rosary, because sometimes, even I can’tunderstand God’s reasons. Even I sometimes feel he’s just playingwith our hearts like a blind child beats a drum. I squeeze my eyesshut and rub them with my fingertips, sighing.

-“How much time?”I ask the physician.

The old man musthave sensed the untamed hope in my voice, and he gently shakes hishead, crushing it before it rises too high.

-“A few hours, nomore.”

Oh, Lord, no.

Not now, not sosoon. Our work isn’t done yet, there is still so much to do, somuch to talk about. Tears rush to my eyes, a wretched sob threateningto shake me, and I clench my jaw around it. I promised I wouldn’t.I owe him nothing less.

I dismiss thephysician with a nod, and, wiping my face one last time, I get in andclose the door behind me with a fake smile plastered upon my lips.

Lost in a room toowide for him, lost in a bed too large, lost in covers too thick, isthe frail, dying body of my only friend.

Joseph.

-“Your Eminence.”He greets me with the ghost of a voice, and I think he wants tosmile, but his gaunt face only twitches.

I wish I could walkquietly to him, but who am I fooling. It is nothing more than adesperate run, and I throw myself on my knees beside his bed,grabbing his cold hand in mine. He feels the rosary between myfingers, and doesn’t even have to look down to recognize it.

His mouth twitchesagain, the damages of his brain attack having destroyed what used tobe such an expressive face, but I understand his intent to smile somemore.

-“It is always apleasure to have a visit from an old friend” he muses softly, hisweak hand giving mine a short squeeze.

For the first timesince I’ve met him, I fear I have no idea what to say, but I don’thave to search for long, because after a while he gently speaks somemore, gesturing towards his desk:

-“I have receivedthe latest letters from Sweden and Germany concerning our greatenterprise for the borders of Europe. Sweden is proposing Münster asa location for the negotiations. It’s a lot further than Cologne aswe first suggested, but it seems to gather a more positive response.Maybe we could…”

-“Joseph.” Iinterrupt, tears threatening my eyes once more, my hands shakingaround his, but he doesn’t hear me.

-“… accept thelocation as a show of goodwill. The United Provinces are claimingtheir independence as non-negotiable, which drives Spain into statesof fury. While they fight about this, I am confident we could squeezeAlsace and Pignerol out of Germany without too much of a…”

-“Joseph!”

I am clearly cryingby now, and I think that’s the only reason why he finally stopstalking.

-“Your Eminence?”He stutters, unsure.

-“Please, myfriend.” I beg. “The treaty can wait. Europe can wait, and as faras I’m concerned tonight, the whole world can crumble down topieces for all I care, but please, I implore you. Just speakto me.”

He frowns, about totell me that’s exactly what he was doing, for sure, but he’salways been brilliant. Surely a lot more than me. My meaning sinksin, and he gives me this twitch of a smile once more.

Silence fills theroom for a while as he looks like he’s searching for something inthis incredible memory of his. While he does, I check his view of mygardens. Yes, the torches are magnificent, highlighting his favoritefountain, and the Arch he taunted me about with the sin of vanity,but still admired for hours.

The choir singsrelentlessly, in soft soothing notes, the Latin words rising in thecold December air through the ajar windows.

In the hearthinside, the fire is roaring, filled with incense and sage, warming upthe room, singing his own kind of praise.

I hope he likes it.I did all I could. I owed him nothing less.

I am pulled out ofmy reverie by his hand, obviously the only one he can still move,freeing itself from my fingers to brush the red silk of my robes withtender care. His eyes, his bright, ardent eyes, still untouched bydeath, shine with fondness in firelight. My dear Joseph.

-“I remember whenyou first wore these.” He breathes. “Not one week after the newsof your nomination. They fit perfectly on first try. You didn’teven look in the mirror the tailor provided, you just turned to meand asked me how you looked.”

-“And you said‘you look like the future of France.’” I chuckled. “Mediciwas right behind you, and she was furious.”

-“I never likedthat witch,” he spits with enough violence to have me jump insurprise; “you deserved so much more than the filthyway she looked at you. But as the King needed time to realize whereyou truly belonged, I guess she was the only ladder you could stepon.”

I frown, lowering myeyes. Joseph has always been the one to remind me all I did was for ahigher purpose, but that hasn’t been enough to erase my burningself-disgust. Among the countless shameful things I’ll have toanswer for sooner or later, selling myself to the Medici as a bashfullover and bedroom toy for more power and one more seat closer to theKing is written in letters of fire.

-“Speaking ofgetting what you deserve,” he whispers in a teasing voice;”how’sthat Gascon soldier of yours?”

I know my facelightens up like a child’s, darting up a thankful glance to him,but I don’t care much.

Joseph never fullyapproved of my love for Jean, of course. He was a Capuchin monk, andwrote four thousand verses in Latin about how everything the CatholicChurch doesn’t approve of should be eradicated.But somehow, he came to appreciate the man Jean is. And though hecould hardly bear to hear, let alone see a single cue of ouraffection, he slowly grew accustomed to the sight of us together,welcoming Jean’s blunt, though good sensed opinion, even upon thehighest matters of diplomacy.

There have beennights of lively debates the three of us spent in the PalaisCardinal, where Joseph took his first glass without water, but alsothe second and third. There have been nights of peaceful talk wherehe laughed a lot more than he cared to admit. Once, I think, as thework was done a few hours before dawn, I found myself staring indisbelief at Jean teaching Joseph how to play cards again, as my dearCapuchin has forgotten everything of his soldiering days.

-“Why on Earth didthe two greatest warriors of France leave the army before they reachthirty to put on robes and read old books?” Jean laughed once, andhe didn’t notice Joseph’s look of sheer bliss at what heconsidered the highest praise he ever got.

I think I onlylacked the King to have everything I love in one room, and thosenights may have been the happiest of my life.

I don’t reply, Ijust smile, because his question wasn’t a question, it was the giftof acceptance, and I cherish it as a treasure.

He pales, suddenly,and I realize with pain how time is nothing but sand between ourfingers. I grip his hand, my whole body refusing to let go, but hewhispers something about God’s will, and I nod bitterly.

We talk some more,mostly about the gardens, and he says something strange about thetorchlights, each one being like a good memory from the past, guidinghis thoughts to the future. He thanks me for the choir, he thanks mefor the whole house. He thanks me for many things, and I have to kisshis hand and beg him to stop, because the tyrant he is made mepromise not to cry.

He pales, his voicegrows weaker by the minute, and that agony in my heart is about toburst. Because I promised, I bite my lips on my sorrow, holding hishand, asking if he can see the stars from where he lies.

He says he does, butI can barely hear him. I want to speak wth him, I want to speak somemore. I want to speak of every moment of our lives, from the Rosaryof Loudun to this very bedroom, I want to revive them like I couldblow on dying embers, I want to lay them all at his feet and make himsee everything we accomplished, every battle we fought, every victorywe squeezed from fate.

I want to thank himfor every acre of land, every year of peace France owes him just asmuch as it owes me.

I want to promisehim a statue, a shrine, an Abbey with his own name, but I know, Iknow.

He’ll dismisseverything with a wave of his hand.

So I just gently laythe rosary on his thin twitching chest, and slowly sign his forehead,whispering a blessing with the last words I can utter before thetears burn my will to ashes.

He pales, but hiseyes remain bright, alight with resolve, right until the end.

He pales, but hisfingers still graze my face as he breathes:

-“I told you oneday, you’d become France, you’d become Church.”

And to hear therest, I have to lean so close my face almost touches his.

-“I told you you’dbe everything I lived for.”

With that, his eyeslaugh, and he speaks no more. He pushes me away with his tremblinghand, his stare fixed upwards, and I understand his last conversationis meant for God alone.

-“Goodbye,Joseph.” I cry as I step back.

-“Goodbye Armand”His silent lips mouth, and at this very moment, something in meshatters.

I rush to the door,close it behind my back, lean against it and slide down to the floor.

They must have heardme scream asfar as the last torchlight of the gardens.

I screamed indespair, I screamed at the gaping wound of loneliness already tearingmy insides apart. I screamed in anger at God’s own face, I screamedfor the only friend I ever had.

I screamed until mylungs hurt, until I almost passed out at his door, until twophysicians came begging for me to get up. I haven’t. I fought andhissed long enough for them to retreat next door and simply wait forme to wear myself out.

It surely took a lotlonger than they expected, because the last thing I remember beforeexhaustion took me is the timid sun of December above the gardens atnoon.