#and while waiting i got called a bunch of slurs by people in cars passing by

[bunn-iiii]

it's weird to me that the first pride event I ever attended that had protesters out front was in Tennessee and not here in Oklahoma

[lacedinweb22]

drunk and crushing (Miguel O’Hara x reader) (part 1)

🕸️ Entangled series 🕸️ ch. 2 prev part

Warnings - alcohol, house party, sexual references 

Summary: After your physics midterm, a group of classmates invite you and your friend, Miguel, to “a small party” they’d be throwing late at night. You both get drunk, and Miguel is especially protective and flirty with you; your feelings and crushes on each other are revealed as the night goes on.

FYI: Some words will be bunched together but that’s just me representing slurred drunken words. ALSO this will be in parts so get ready to be fucking edged. Sorry >:D I hope you enjoy <;3 

I imagine this playing in the background of this part's party scenes so I HIGHLY recommend listening to this with headphones on while reading:

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

We walked out of class together, side by side. “Sooo, I mean, I’ll only go if you go,” he said, nudging my shoulder, smirking with that annoyingly perfect, pearly smile. “Hmmm, ‘a small party,’ she said, I don’t know, I don’t believe that… I hate large gatherings and… I don’t know half of the people that’ll be there,” I muttered, my eyes following the passing squirrels then glancing back up at Miguel. 

What was the point of going when I knew I would just have to witness every girl and their mother trying to suck this man off in the bathroom??? He’d be busy all night, away from me, why bother? I prefer our mini study dat– sessions. Study sessions. 

“Yeah… I know, but you’ll be with me, so you can just… you know, stick with me,” he suggested, shrugging and smiling down at me, his gaze stuck on me as we walked. I smiled, looking at our feet walking together. Stick with him. “Okay, fine, yes, let’s do it. I’ll feel better… that way.” “Okay, I’ll pick you up at 9 then?” 

Pick me up? Jesus, why are you like this? Stop being so fucking nice to me; it makes it so much harder to get over you. 

It’s fine. He’s just being a good best friend. Friend. We. Are. Just. Friends. He’s just being nice. 

“Yes, sounds perfect… thank you, Mig, can’t wait,” I said, giving him a thumbs up as I walked away from him. “Hey, where are you going?” he called out. “I’m going to go meet up with a friend, I’ll see you later tonight, M” I yelled back. “Okay… Y/N,” he muttered, his eyebrows softly scrunched with confusion, lifting his hand up to say goodbye. 

* * *

I wore my favorite vintage black strapless dress, and long knee high socks stuffed into my black mary janes. My waves trickled down my shoulders and collar bones. I feel so pretty. I wonder if Miguel will think the same. 

He texted me that he’d be here in five. I sat on the short garden wall outside of my apartment complex, waiting for Miguel. He was always early. Always. 

Sure enough, he pulled up, smiling and saluting me. “Present, Captain Y/N,” he said, as I walked towards the car door. Before I knew it, he was out of the car, about to open the door for me. As he approached the car door, his eyes scanned me up and down. “You look… really nice. Super beautiful.” I felt my face warm up. “Thank you, Mig,” I replied, shyly. I got in, he closed the door, then went to his side. He got in and began to drive. 

“And you. I love that moto jacket on you… and you smell nice,” I replied, leaning towards him, my face near his chest, sniffing him. “Hey, I always smell good,” “Yeah, you do, you do, but you know, it’s a party, I get it. Love, drugs, weed, pussy. I get it,” I replied, hands up. He laughed and rolled his eyes, his deep laugh so rich, music to my ears. He smelled so good. His jacket must be fucking drenched in his smell. I wanted to touch him so badly, to feel his snug t-shirt, his warm muscles against my fingertips. I just knew–“Y/N,” he dragged out. “Yes, sorry, what was the question?” I responded quickly. “You smell good too, and you look pretty, I mean you always look pretty, I mean I just… is there someone from our class you’re looking forward to seeing?” God, you have no idea. “Ummmm, no, nope, no. There isn’t. Is there… someone you–” “No, no. Just the drugs and the weed,” he replied, nodding. I scoffed. Sure. 

We pulled up to the house party. There were a million cars and what seemed like a million people inside and outside crowding around the front yard. Colorful lights glowed through the windows as people danced and trashed their red solo cups everywhere.  

We found parking, then walked towards the chaos. As we approached, Miguel grabbed my hand. I looked down at it then back up at him. “Stick with me, okay?” he urged, squeezing my hand twice. I nodded. His large, muscular hand wrapped around mine. He was so warm; his calloused palms rubbed softly against mine as we walked in. 

We pushed through the crowd to get to the kitchen. The speakers blasted music and sent vibrations across the floor and throughout my body. I clung onto Miguel as we pushed through the crowd. He towered over everyone, as the longing eyes of girls and the envious eyes of guys followed him.

We found Lizzie, our friend from physics, pouring shots for a few other classmates I recognized. “Miguel and Y/N,” she hummed out, teasingly.  “You two are so cute! I’m so glad you could both make it!” she exclaimed, winking at me. “Us too,” Miguel replied, squeezing my hand and bumping my shoulder. “Do you guys want some of… this?” she said smirking, holding up a bottle of tequila. Miguel looked down at me for approval. I shrugged. “I’ll do one if you do one,” I told him, smiling. He grinned down at me then nodded to Lizzie.  She grabbed a shot glass then a larger glass, 3x the size of mine. “He’s much bigger than you,” she said, shrugging, as she poured them out then slid one in front of each of us. “Fuck, what have we gotten ourselves into?” I asked, picking up the small glass and looking up at Miguel. He raised his glass up to mine and tapped it, “I guess we’ll have to find out,” he said, smirking.

Our eyes met as we both brought the shot glasses to our lips, never breaking eye contact. We downed the shots. Miguel took it extremely, scarily well, as I gasped and hovered over the counter processing the burn. I felt the warmth spread down into my chest. “Mmm that was so yummy,” I moaned. Miguel patted my back and laughed, “Let me get you a soda or something, wait Y/N, have you eaten?” I kept my head down and breathed out, “I saw Dr. Peppers back there, please, God, and yeah… umm I had mac & cheese earlier.” He patted my back then walked away. 

“You need a drink?” I turned around to see a guy I knew from physics holding out a plastic cup to me. “Oh, no I’m good, thank you, Miguel should be bringing me something right about now,” I responded, peering behind him. Where is he? It was just righ– “I don’t see him,” he responded smugly, shrugging. I awkwardly laughed. He was cute, but he wasn’t… him. His eyes were glued to my lips. “Ha, ummm, yeah well, so… how do you feel about the midterm?” I asked, trying to ignore the tension. 

Lizzie brushed by me, handing me a new shot glass, raising her eyebrows. I didn’t feel the first one in the slightest, so I obliged. I downed the shot, breathed out, caught my breath, and looked back at Jack. 

“It was fine. Anyways, Y/N, I see you every lecture, and I’ve always wanted to, you know, talk to you, but you’ve– I mean shit, you got him following you around like a lost puppy–” “Hey, what? Where is this coming from? Miguel’s my friend, he’s my best friend, how is he like a lost puppy?” I argued, offended. “I mean everyone sees how he looks at you,” he replied, confused, like I was the one missing something. “Everyone? What do they see or… think? What do you mea–” “Do you not–? You’re not together? You haven’t…?” he asked, bewildered. “Nope, just friends,” I sighed, grabbing a can off of the counter and chugging. “But hey, thanks for the reminder,” I breathed out before chugging more of whatever this bitter shit was. I need to forget that Miguel doesn’t want me, that he could never think of me the way I think of him. 

Jack smiled, and leaned on the counter closer to me, his elbow getting closer and closer to my chest. I looked down at his elbow then up at him with furrowed eyebrows. “You’re close,” I asserted. “You look beautiful tonight, truly. You know what? We should go take a quick hit outside,” he smirked, holding up a joint. “Nah, I’m good, It’s niceandwarm in here and Miguel shouldbecomingtosaveme any minutenow,” I shook my head no, realizing how heavy my head felt. Fuck, this beer can feels a little heavy. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered, getting closer to my face. “We should go get brunch sometime,” he added. Brunch? “That’svery kind but I’m good. DamnIsaid Iwasgood like fifty times. I’m waiting forMiguelllll, my best friend, my buddy, so don’t worry about me! Go check out someone else who’s lonely, I’m not lonely.” “You look lonely,” he reasoned. “Hey, you fucki–” I stopped as I noticed his eyes grow fearful as his gaze looked up above my head. “What are youlookingat, weirdo?” I asked, sharply, reaching my fingertips to my hair. 

“Hey, Miguel,” Jack breathed out, grinning fearfully. I looked up to see Miguel behind me peering down at Jack. I watched as he kept his eyes on Jack while lowering a Dr. Pepper into my hand. “Here, Y/N,” “Thank you, Miguel,” I mimicked, looking up at him then back at Jack. 

“I’m here. You can leave her alone now,” Miguel hissed at Jack. I like this side of him. Darkened eyes, heavy voice, angst. Gives me chills. “We were just talking about a fucking midterm,” Jack muttered as he walked away. “Yeah okay, pinche gringo,” he called out to him. I turned around and looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair slightly messier than when I saw him ten minutes ago. Where had he gone? Who was he with?

“Miguel,” I scolded, holding in my laugh. “What if he understandsSpanish, huh? They’re gonna kickyourass out,” I reasoned. “Nofighting here. This is a peacezone,” I said squeezing his forearm. He shrugged, “Ni modo.” I rolled my eyes then drank more from the can. “Hey, where’d you get that?” Miguel asked, grabbing it out of my hand, analyzing the label. He swiftly drank what was left of the beer then offered me the soda he brought. He lifted my other hand grasping the soda up to my lips, then bit the tab up, snapping the soda open inches away from my lips. “Drink this,” he muttered, through his teeth before spitting the soda tab onto the counter. “Haaaa I forgot about this!” I laughed out. “Yeah, yeah drink some,” he laughed, supporting my hand. 

I drank a good amount then pressed it to his lips. His soft pink lips wrapped around the can rim. His eyes stuck to mine as he sipped some. My cheeks burned.

He then grabbed my hand and led me to the upstairs living room. There were far less people and the music wasn’t as loud. A friend stopped Miguel by the mini bar, so I stood beside him as they talked. I subconsciously remained holding his hand, which he held firmly on his lap as he talked to his friend about school. Lizzie and a few of her friends came by again, handing Miguel and I shots. Miguel hesitated as he looked down at his glass, then looked back at me and my now empty shot glass. He stared at me with extreme concern, then continued talking to the guy who was bombarding him with questions about the midterm. 

He continued glancing at me, worriedly. “What are youlookingat?” I asked, pushing him with my body, “oops sorry I just meant to nudgeyou not push you, woah you’re so firm, I’ve never felt yourchestbefore geez you’re so strong, wait doyouthinkyou could lift me up? Try carrying me!” I blurted, laughing. A bit of pink creeped into his cheeks, as he smiled and put his hand on my fingers lingering on his chest. “Yeah, Y/N, you’ve had a little too much. No more, okay?” he urged, almost scolding me. “Damnnnn okay, MOMMMM!” I replied, rolling my eyes. He turned to his friend and excused himself, then stood up and turned to face me. He looked down at me, his eyes glaring, as I looked up at him, smiling fearfully. He wrapped his forearms around the back of my thighs, lifted me, and gently carried me over his shoulder, within one second. I was weightless to him. I laughed non stop, as he put me down slowly and rolled his eyes. “Wait couldyoulift me like, like wrappedaroundyou like you know…?” I asked, excited. Jesus, someone stop me.

He tilted his head, looking at me critically, then succumbed. He wrapped his hands on the back of my thighs then effortlessly lifted me up so we were chest to chest, heart to heart. His hands remained on the back of my thighs, my dress was now riding up, probably showing my underwear to the world. I was too drunk to care, and too focused on Miguel to care. 

My arms wrapped around his neck, as our faces were inches apart. We looked into each other’s eyes then down at each other’s lips. My heart is beating dangerously fast. Can he feel my heart racing? It felt like 10 minutes had passed us by, when in reality it had been mere seconds. He put me down slowly, as we held eye contact. I wasn’t laughing anymore. 

That sobered me up. I cleared my throat and tugged my dress down. His gaze was still glued onto me. His gaze felt different. Has he always looked at me like that? “Let’s go over there,” I suggested, as I pointed at a group of people playing beer pong on the balcony. I hated crowds, but I needed more sobering up; the alcohol was hitting me like a bus. He held my hand and followed me, as I led him through the crowd this time.

As we approached the balcony and made our way through the crowd, the music grew intensely loud. We now had to shout to hear each other. “‘SMALL PARTY’ MY ASS!” I shouted to Miguel. “I KNOW,” he laughed, “IT’S SO FUCKING LOUD. IT’S TOO MUCH” he shouted, over the music. “DO YOU WANNA LEAVE?” “NO, LET’S JUST GO TAKE A RESTROOM BREAK,” he yelled back, grabbing my hand and leading me to one of the bathrooms. 

to be continued…

next part (flashback) drunk and crushing pt.2

[daringyounggrayson]

whumptober day 4: pushed (AO3)

It’s raining. Normally, that’s a non-issue; Dick’s Nightwing suit is mostly waterproof, and his boots are designed to have excellent traction, even in less-than-ideal conditions. But this is pushing it. He’s on top of a moving train, his vision is limited due to the rain and his mask’s broken night vision, and his shoes are struggling to plant themselves firmly on the slippery train roof. And the rain is heavy, coming down in sheets, and the wind is howling, nearly knocking him over on more than one occasion—it’s the worst storm Bludhaven has had in years.

And then there’re the goons trying to knock him off the train. Now their fight has become a strange dance where Dick is trying to dodge blows while also making sure they don’t fall off in their attempts to kill him. The ridiculousness of trying to keep people who are trying to harm him safe is not lost on Dick.

If he could, he’d just stick trackers on them and call it a night, but that’s not an option—there are bombs hidden somewhere in the train and/or along its route. People could die.

A branch from a nearby tree falls onto the train, causing all three men to jump back, seeking cover. Dick nearly slips off again, and from their screams, he’s sure the other two do too. Dick is on his hands and knees, balancing there as he tries to figure out how to use this to his advantage. There’s an entrance a few cars ahead. If he’s quiet and stays out of their line of sight, they’ll probably assume he fell off the train. He could easily get past them and slip inside to stop the train and get everyone off before these two fools can even set off their bombs. Ideally, Dick would also find and disarm the bombs, but replacing a train and some of its tracks is something Dick can live with so long as no one gets hurt.

He lies down on his stomach, army crawling across the train’s roof, letting the branch block him from his enemies’ view. When he gets to the ladder, he slides his legs over the edge until his foot hits a rung. Then he leaps from one ladder to the next, catching the next rung with a tight grip. It would be faster to simply jump across the rooftops, but he needs to be as discrete as possible.

He’s nearly there—just a few yards left to go—when a gun goes off. He instinctively stills and covers his head, and a bullet bounces off the train several feet away from him. Normally, gunshots wouldn’t be a shock in this kind of scenario, but Dick’s already disarmed them, he—

He looks up to find a third partner. He’s just exited from the same place Dick was hoping to enter through, and he’s holding a gun with a shaking hand. Fantastic.

Dick moves like lightning—he charges the man and knocks the gun out of his hand before his trembling fingers can find the trigger.

“How many of your people are here right now?” Dick shouts above the wind, holding the man in a headlock.

“It doesn’t matter. it’s too late,” the man sneers. “You can’t stop us now.”

“That’s what they all say.” Dick swipes his legs and knocks him to the ground, pulling out handcuffs and attaching him to a nearby bar. “But you know what? I kind of like being underestimated.”

Dick stands, planning to walk back to the hatch and enter the train. He hasn’t even taken his first step when heavy footsteps charge toward him. Dick ducks just in time to avoid being body-slammed by one of the goons from the other train car, and the man stumbles, losing his balance and sliding along the length of the roof. He’s quick to get back up and charge Dick again, this time with raised fists and an animalistic screech.

“I’m kind of on a tight schedule here,” Dick calls as he engages in the fight. He really doesn’t have time for this; the train’s picking up speed.

A large gust of wind nearly knocks him over again, and his boots squeak as they try and fail to find traction. The thug lunges at him, tripping over his own feet but managing to land a weak hit against Dick’s shoulder.

It’s ridiculous that it’s enough to send him tipping over the edge.

He tries and fails to find his footing, only managing to slip backward further. He reflexively reaches out for the attacker’s hand, but he forces himself to retract; the odds of Dick pulling him down and killing him are higher than the odds of the man managing to hold their combined weight. As he falls over the edge, the tips of his fingers brush against the train car’s safety bar, but the rain prevents him from grasping it.

He hits the ground, tries to roll with the fall. The initial impact knocks the wind out of him, and he’s left gasping as sharp pain explodes over his head and back. When he finally stops, he’s covered in mud and blood, and every inch of him feels sore. It wasn’t a long fall, but it was fast and hard.

He pushes himself up on shaking elbows, watches as the blurry figures on the roof disappear into the train car. He’s not going to get back there; even if he had the time, even if he had super speed, he doesn’t think he can move. He needs help.

Dick presses his emergency beacon and calls Wally on his comms. He thinks he says something, but he must pass out, because next thing he knows, Wally’s tapping his cheek, begging him to wake up. He’s blurry, which doesn’t make sense, because Wally’s not running—the only thing moving is his hand, and it’s slow.

Instead of voicing his confusion, Dick vomits. Wally rolls him onto his side, talking too fast for Dick to understand.

In between gasps, Dick says, “The train. Bombs.” His voice sounds wrong to his own ears, slurred.

“You’re hurt,” Wally points out, hesitant. His hands are bloody. How did Wally get blood on his hands already?

“I don’t care—you have to save them!” Dick says, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes as the pain builds in his head. “Medical is on their way—go!”

oOo

Dick isn’t awake when the medical team arrives, but he does wake up, so he figures they did show up.

He raises his hand to rub at his eyes and finds an IV sticking out of it, stuck to his hand with clear tape. He turns his head, taking in the machines and monitors. He must be in the Watchtower’s ICU.

“Hey,” someone—Wally—whispers on the other side of the bed. “Are you awake?”

“Mmhmm,” Dick mumbles. He turns his head to face Wally, wincing. “Bombs?”

“I took care of it; no one got hurt,” Wally promises.

“Thanks.” Dick closes his eyes. The lights are dim, but they still feel too bright. “How long have I been out?”

“As in unconscious?” Wally sighs, and his chair creaks. “Well, uh, you were in a coma for almost three days. You woke up yesterday, but you’ve been pretty out of it. I’m honestly not confident that you’ll even remember this conversation.”

“Wanna bet?” Dick asks, a loopy smile crossing his face.

Wally laughs. “Sure, I could use ten dollars.”

“I’m going to remember.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I am.” This time Wally doesn’t protest, and Dick takes it as a win. After a moment, he asks, “I’m okay, though, right?”

“Oh sure. Spinal bruising and a brain hemorrhage have nothing on the Justice League’s medical technology and your stubbornness,” Wally says lightly. “What happened to you anyway?”

“Got pushed off a train,” Dick mumbles, words slurring together as he gets closer and closer to unconsciousness. “Probably landed head first on a rock.” He can barely remember the fight, barely remembers falling. Instead of a solid memory, it’s just a bunch of non-chronological snapshots.

“That tracks.” Wally shifts in his chair, and his fingers find their way to the back of Dick’s hand. “It was scary, finding you like that. I thought you were going to die.”

And Dick had told Wally to leave him anyway. He doesn’t regret doing it—someone has to make the hard calls—but he doesn’t envy Wally. “I’m fine,” he tries to reassure.

Wally’s voice is tight when he speaks. “Yeah, you’re going to be fine, because you’re you—but you weren’t fine. And you’re still not. Hell, you’re hooked up to a bunch of machines and you can’t even keep your eyes open.”

Dick opens his eyes and finds that Wally’s are shiny with unshed tears. “Wally.”

“Sorry, it’s just—” Wally shakes his head, wipes the back of his hand across his eyes. “Uh, can I get you anything? Last time I was here you were nauseous.”

“No, stomach’s fine, just tired.” He must be on a million drugs, too. He wonders how many he’ll have to add to his regimen because of this.

Wally nods, then looks down at his watch when it beeps. “I have to go—Watchtower duty. The rest of the original Titans said they were going to stop by later today, and Alfred and Bruce are outside waiting for me to finish, so you won’t be alone.”

Dick hums in acknowledgment. Then he says, “Thanks for coming, the other day and now.”

Wally leans in and hugs him gently, carefully. “Anytime. And take as much time as you need to heal. Seriously—the Titans will be okay without you for a while, even if Roy ends up leading.”

Dick laughs and nods into Wally’s shoulder, and then they let go. Wally leaves with a promise to be back soon, and Dick, determined to remember this conversation, reminds him to bring his ten dollars when he does.

[sineala]

The gay Invaders

Hi, internet! Today I'd like to talk about one of the chronologically-first canonically-gay couples in Marvel Comics history: Brian Falsworth (the second Union Jack) and Roger Aubrey (The Destroyer). (I mean "chronological" in terms of in-universe timeline rather than RL publication date; I'm pretty sure Northstar is still the first to publication as far as unambiguously-gay Marvel heroes go.)

If you are a fan of reading or writing about Captain America being queer, you should care about Brian and Roger, because they were two of Steve's fellow Invaders in the 1940s, meaning that they are two of the people on the list of Steve's Old Gay Friends And Teammates, because, yeah, Steve sure had a lot of canonically gay friends during the war. Probably more than you'd think he would have had in the forties! (The other two are Percival Pinkerton, who's part of Nick Fury's Howling Commandos, and of course Steve's childhood friend Arnie Roth. Pinky is gay by word of Stan Lee, IIRC; Arnie was as canonically gay as DeMatteis could make him in the early 1980s, so they didn't say the word "gay" but it's really, really not subtle. Steve compares what Arnie feels for his "roommate" Michael to what Steve feels for his girlfriend Bernie. Yeah.)

I previously made a Tumblr post about Brian and Roger, rounding up some of the canonical evidence of their relationship, but that post is six years old now, and in the intervening years, Marvel has thoughtfully put the rest of the 70s Invaders run on Unlimited as well as the two Citizen V miniseries that star Roger and retcon his relationship with Brian as romantic. So I've read them now, and I've got panels.

Okay. I should probably begin by saying that Brian and Roger are not canonically gay in their first significant appearance together, which is in Invaders vol 1 #19 and #20, published in 1977. Roy Thomas does not seem to have intended them to be a couple, and they aren't canonically one in any of the original Invaders run. However, if you enjoy gay subtext, it's very nice.

This whole arc is the one that introduces Roger in modern canon. He's been brainwashed by the Nazis and the Invaders rescue him and get him back to his normal self. But in #19 we get his backstory in flashback, as related by Montgomery, Lord Falsworth (Brian's father; yes, MCU fans, the name should look familiar) and it turns out that Roger and Brian were basically best friends since childhood:

They were the dearest of friends!

Anyway, they both ended up captured by Nazis, they presumably changed their minds about appeasement as a policy, Brian got out and joined the Invaders, then they had to rescue the brainwashed Roger, and it's a fair amount of fun in a two-issue arc.

The subtext is even more prominent in Invaders #34, in which they find out that someone going by the Destroyer (which is Roger's codename) has been doing villainous deeds, and the Invaders worry that Roger's gotten himself brainwashed again. Brian immediately insists that it can't really be Roger because he knows Roger and Roger Would Never:

Unsurprisingly, Brian is right. It's not really Roger; Master Man is impersonating the Destroyer, and the villains have taken Roger captive, and the Invaders break him out and there is an extremely significant moment where it just so happens that Roger has to catch Brian, saving his life for a change, and they stare deeply into each other's eyes and Brian seems to be having difficulty finishing his sentences:

Some people who read this therefore concluded that Brian and Roger were extremely gay for each other. While ordinarily this sort of shipping is mostly confined to fandom, in this particular instance, one of the people who started shipping Brian/Roger was Fabian Nicieza, and Fabian Nicieza, as you probably know, writes comics for Marvel. I think you see where this is going.

However, first I must inform you that, sadly, Brian has been canonically dead for years. Captain America vol 1 #253-254 -- the two-parter about Baron Blood in the Stern/Byrne Cap run in the 80s -- establishes that Brian died in a car accident in 1953. (This is also the run where Joseph Chapman -- a friend of Jacqueline Falsworth's son Kenneth -- becomes the third (and current) Union Jack.)

(Roger then appears in a bunch of T-Bolts issues; I assume there's nothing interesting there on the gay front because I feel like someone would have told me. I should probably read more than three T-Bolts issues someday.)

So, anyway, in 2001, Fabian Nicieza wrote a miniseries called Citizen V and the V-Battalion. Roger, who is still superheroing as the Destroyer despite being pretty old by this point, is part of the titular V-Battalion, and he has a very prominent role in this miniseries. And in #1, we have the usual splash page of character backstory, and there's a very, um, interesting line there:

Regarding Brian and Roger's relationship, the narration informs us: "It sounds much gayer than it probably was."

This is interesting, obviously for a couple of reasons. One is that, up to this point in canon, as far as I can tell, literally nobody thought any of this sounded the slightest bit gay at all. (Other than, I guess, Fabian Nicieza.) The other reason is that, as we soon find out, it actually was as gay as it sounds. Thanks, Fabian!

In 2002, Nicieza wrote a second miniseries, Citizen V and the V-Battalion: The Everlasting. Issue #1 opens with a flashback set in 1953; specifically, we see Brian's funeral:

Roger is extremely sad, and when Lord Falsworth expresses his sympathy about the death of Roger's "friend" and saying that he knows how much this hurts him, Roger mutters under his breath that he doesn't have the slightest clue:

All is revealed on the next page, when one of the other characters tries to ask Roger about superhero business and Roger snaps at him because, as he says, "I just watched my friend die in my arms."

Except "friend" isn't the word he starts to say:

Yep. That would be "lover." So Roger nearly outs himself. So, yes, now it's absolutely canon. Hooray.

Later on in the issue, which is set in the present day, we have a couple pages of Roger staring at pictures of the two of them and continuing to be sad:

Yeah. They were a couple.

So the question you -- being a Captain America fan -- might ask yourself is, okay, did/does Steve know about any of this? (The reason I started looking all this up was because I wanted to know if Steve knew.) I don't know if we have a panel of Roger specifically admitting any of this to Steve (and if we do, I would like to know about it), but I would be comfortable saying that Steve probably knew back then -- because, well, he seems like the kind of guy who would actually have been fine with it in the 40s, what with all his gay friends -- and also that I can't think of a reason why he wouldn't know now. Because he's definitely worked with Roger again in fairly recent comics, and also Roger is very much out, these days.

In fact, New Invaders #4 (2004) opens with Roger attending Pride:

So, yeah, he's out.

(Then he has to fight, as far as I can tell, homophobic Nazi vampires. They're yelling slurs in German. Great.)

In All-New Invaders #10, which is from 2014 (and which is not the same series as New Invaders), Roger shows up to help out the Invaders, and in passing, he just happens to mention to another character (Joseph Chapman, the current Union Jack), that he is in fact gay:

He and Joseph don't really like each other much; as far as I can tell, their acquaintance in New Invaders consists of Joseph being vaguely homophobic and Roger being bitter about him being Union Jack because he actually wanted to be Union Jack himself to honor Brian's memory -- you know, that thing superheroes sometimes like to do to honor their dead superhero significant others, viz. Hank when Jan was dead after Secret Invasion -- and now Union Jack is this annoying kid and not, y'know, the love of his life. This exchange from New Invaders #4 seems pretty representative of their relationship:

Anyway, yeah, he's pretty obviously out.

Steve isn't actually present for this conversation in All-New Invaders, but he mentions in a later issue of this run that he knows what Roger and his pals have been up to, plot-wise, so I feel comfortable assuming that he's talked to Roger at some point in the previous ten years or so, and therefore, since Roger is completely out at this point in canon, there's no reason Steve shouldn't know now.

On an unrelated note, it's also a fun issue if you're a Steve/Tony fan because this is clearly running in parallel with Hickman's Avengers run, which means that he spends half a page telling Namor that he's mad at him and the rest of the Illuminati (but mostly mad at Tony because... he's just obsessed with Tony in this run, I guess?) about the mindwipe:

This is the sum total of my knowledge about Brian and Roger. No, wait, I know one more thing, which is that Brian was a character in the late, lamented mobile game Avengers Academy, in which he was also actually gay; Roger does not seem to have been there. There's a CBR article that you can read about the whole thing, which mentions some of these details from the comics in passing. (I have no idea why it says that their relationship was alluded to in the Stern/Byrne run; unless I missed something big, the only thing those issues do is establish Brian's death. As far as I can tell, no one is gay in them.)

So, yeah, that's Brian Falsworth and Roger Aubrey, the two gay Invaders. Steve sure has a lot of gay friends.

[ariadneamare]

a playlist for you | levihan

word count: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ audience only, angst

a/n: so i'm not really good at writing nsfw so this is all i can do for now (?) let me know what u think! < about the story i mean and not the nsfw HAHAHA ok anyway here it is

Day 1 // Honne

"You'll always be my day one," she whispered at his sleeping form. The two met nine months ago at a party Hanji's friend held for the fourth of July. It took her hours to decide if she wanted to go. Between the thesis that had to be done and the tempting bottles of vodka on the picture Petra sent, she came to a conclusion. 

In that very moment, that very temptation lead her to a good outcome. A grumpy midget. 

They both decided to just be friends with benefits. For Hanji's part she did not know as to how it worked. Do they just fuck and fist bump after? 

The sex was insanely good, but the thing that came after? Feelings. Feelings were what came after. 

Everything hit different with Levi. Something about the way he dragged the tip of his cock along her opening as he whispered, "I love the way you scream my name," made her carve the features of his face on her mind. Something about that very gesture the first night they met stuck with her. 

"Day zero when I was no one," she continued. Taking her index finger, she traced his brows and moved to his lips. "I'm nothing by myself, you and no one else." 

Falling for someone was the last thing she intended to do on her last year of university. She had dreams and goals to achieve, Hanji could not afford to fuck up. But, maybe this mistake might not be so bad. Maybe, it would even be the one thing that'll make her happy. Make her whole. Make her warm. 

"What are you mumbling?" 

"Oh, Levi!" As soon as she heard the voice, Hanji withdrew her hand to her chest. She looked at him with wide eyes, her voice small as she added, "I was just talking to myself." 

"C'mere," Levi's voice is husky as he pulls her in. His hands tighten around her waist and he hardens, her boobs pressed up against his chest. "Go to sleep." 

Hanji closes her eyes and tries to focus on falling asleep instead of the voice in her head. Last time she checked, fuck buddies don't cuddle in bed. 

Everytime // Ariana Grande 

"For the last time, Hanji!" Nifa shouts frustratedly, picking up her clothes on the floor and stuffing them in a duffel bag. "He's not good for you. He fucked a quarter of the med students! Goes partying almost every night, and ends up sucking someone's face by the time the party disperses." 

One drunken night, Hanji spilled everything to Petra and Nifa. From how she's falling for him, to the idea that she's willing to do anything for Levi. Absurd really, but it was love. At least that's what she thinks. 

"What about it? And he doesn't fuck strangers anymore. He told me so, it's all me now." Hanji tries to argue, taking the bag from her friend and zipping it up. "People are capable of changing, if you're not aware." 

"No! Listen to me, for once! Please, listen to me." 

"You listen to me!" She pulls at her hair, dragging her palm down her face and settling them by her hips. "Just this, allow me to have this." 

"I want to, but I can't, okay?" Nifa approaches her, placing both hands on each shoulder. "I can't let you when I know what he is like." 

"I know what he's like, and it's nothing compared to how you picture him." 

Nifa looks down for a second before dragging her eyes to meet Hanji's, "I can't do anything to tell you otherwise?" 

"No, I'm sorry." Hanji breathes, cupping her left cheek. "I can handle myself, okay?" 

"Okay." 

Thirty minutes later, Hanji sat on her bed alone. Staring up at the ceiling before saying, "they keep telling me to let go but I don't really let go." She closes her eyes, looking back at their moments together. 

Until now, everything remained blurry. No label, no assurance, no confession. Just a bunch of afternoons spent fucking in her dorm or his car. 

Hanji knew she deserved so much better than casually fucking and making out. But something about him made her stay. It sounded like something every person says before getting cheated on, yet she still did not budge. 

"Why, oh why does god keep bringing me back to you?" She whispers, slapping her cheeks repeatedly. 

Last Night // Lucy Spraggan 

"Last night I told you I lo—" Hanji tries to explain and apologize but he cuts her off. Raising a hand and standing up from his position on the bed. 

They booked a hotel room last night after going out. The two drank more than what they could handle. It took Levi 24 shots and 16 for Hanji before they got wasted. And wasted they were. 

Their arms were intertwined to keep balance, noise erupted from each other's mouths. Giggles from Hanji's part and grunts from the man. One thing lead to the next, the two had crazy drunk sex. Even though she was drunk, a part of her was still aware. 

Aware of how everything he did became even more attractive. The way he unbuttoned his dress shirt made her insides twist and turn. 

Last night, she even got to see a side of him he rarely showed. Most times when they had sex, Levi took control. But everything was different last night. He squirmed under her and moaned loudly, his eyes rolling back as his legs started to shake. 

After three rounds, the two sat in bed side by side. They stared at the city from the window. Enjoying the peace and cold the night brought. Hanji enjoyed counting the cars that passed, while Levi stared at her. 

It was impulsive, but she did not regret it as much as she expected. The three words came out of her mouth smoothly, and if he did not listen closely then he would not notice how it seemed so rehearsed. 

"Hanji, I am not the person for you." 

It hurt, but it was true. He only spoke of the truth, yet Hanji hated him. Levi could have lied, he could have told her he loved her too. But he didn't. And she should be grateful, she should be. Anger bubbled up inside her, anger for both of the people in the room. 

At him for being so… so him. For being everything yet nothing at the same. 

At her for allowing this, for not keeping her walls up. For being a fool. 

Thinking of You // Katy Perry

Levi tried. At best, he tried. 

For months, he noticed the way Hanji looked at him. He did not mean to assume, it was just too noticeable because it was how his mom looked at him.

Like he was too precious for the world. Like he was special. Like he was loved. 

He knew any time she would say those words, but he did not think it would be so soon. Levi has not prepared himself for anything. He did not know what to say or do. He's never experienced anything so pure ever since his mom. Most people regarded him in ways he knew how to handle. 

Either in respect or simply lust. With respect, he just had to reciprocate it. And lust, give them a dick and it was all good. 

But love, it was like calculus for an elementary student. Too complex and, in some cases, too much. 

And because he did not want to think about Hanji or the way she said I love you with her wide eyes, he went out to party. 

There he met Erwin. A buff man in a crisp suit. Not too many words were uttered, but moans were echoing in the bathroom of the bar. The guy was handsome and built as hell, who was Levi to reject a blessing? 

As he was being rammed, his hands on the sink for balance and mouth agape in pleasure, a certain person kept popping up on his mind. Even though Erwin kept pushing in so hard from the back that Levi's hands kept slipping off the sink, he could not help but think if Hanji slept with another person too. With that thought, it riled him up. He pushed his ass backwards to meet with Erwin's aggressive thrusts and in five more the two came in sync, muttering curses underneath their breaths. 

As they fixed themselves up, Erwin passed him a business card before leaving. He did not even check the words written before throwing it in the bin. The condom he threw seconds ago sat beside it and he cringed at that. 

"When I'm with him, I am thinking of you." He stared at his own reflection and scowled. What did he get himself into. 

Do I Wanna Know // Arctic Monkeys 

"Hey," he breathed, voice deep and slurred. Two empty bottles of gin stood on his coffee table. 

"What are you doing?" Hanji tried her best not to let her walls break. She knows when too much heartache is enough. 

"Crawling back to you," Levi chuckled before continuing. "Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do." 

"Levi, I can't do this right now." It has been about a month, and Hanji has learned. Nifa and Petra did not let her off easily despite crying for days. They lectured her for a week straight, but did not leave her side. They brought food, reminded her about assignments and even took her out on dinner dates. "I have to go." 

Build Me Up Buttercup // The Foundations 

"Levi, you cannot just build me up just to let me down." She pushed him away as he tried to hold on either side of her arm. Hanji was on her way to the cafeteria when Levi pulled her and dragged her to a secluded corner, asking if they could talk. 

"I'm sorry," he blurts out and it makes her pause, his forehead creases as he looks at her with pleading eyes. "Help me, I do not know how to do this." 

Hanji's eyes widen in horror, "what do you mean? Are you okay?" 

"This whole thing, this lo-love." 

It took every nerve inside of Hanji's body for her not to laugh at him. She found it weirdly cute. Sure, he broke her heart, but the man was clearly trying. 

"Is Levi 'I am not the person for you' Ackerman asking for my help?" She brought one hand under her chin, feigning brainstorming. 

"Oh, so you want to think hard? How about I give you something else that's hard?" He pulls her, his bulge meeting with her crotch. "But honestly though, what a simp you are." 

"So you want me to give you a hard time and reject you now? Make you wait for a year?" She smacks his chest. 

"No, I'm fine with waiting but I want you now." He kisses her cheek a couple of times before pressing his lips on hers. 

"Look at you, suddenly a softie," she teases as their noses meet. 

"Have I not always been one?" 

"Yeah, I kept wondering if fuck buddies usually cuddle after sex. Or give the other lunches that they made on their own. Or cleaning the dor—" 

"Okay, you made your point already, four eyes." Levi raises one hand to cup her cheeks, making her look at him in the eye. "I can't promise you something perfect from the books, but I am willing to give you everything that I am." 

"Such a sweet talker!" 

"Oh, whatever." 

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction | Wish You Were Sober [Song]

A/N: Based on Conan Gray’s song  - Wish you were sober 

Seokjin: ~ This party’s shit, wish we could dip, go anywhere but here

It was supposed to be a small comeback party but it seemed as though Jimin had invited every single person they knew to the dorms and the placed was rammed full, some of them Jin didn't even know which made him uncomfortable. He found you in his room sitting on his bed with a book and laid in one of his shirts, thank god his room was the one with the lock.

"Too much for you too?" He questioned handing you a mug of hot chocolate and sitting down beside you on the bed and looking at the book you were reading from.

"I wish we could dip," He mumbled against your shoulder but he knew he couldn't he was the oldest and even though Namjoon was the leader Jin was still responsible for anything happening in the dorms.

"Maybe we can just put a movie on and watch it together, it's not every day we get to be alone like this." You laughed closing your book and shifting so you were laying with your head on his shoulder.

"What movie are you thinking?" You smirked looking over at the X-Men movie series you'd been dying to get him to watch and he groaned getting up and putting them into the DVD Player.

(X)

Three hours had passed and you were fast asleep on the bed next to Jin, he was quietly scrolling through his phone thankful that the party wasn't loud enough to wake you up but it was as if he'd thought to soon because as soon as he went to curl up and sleep beside you there was a smashing sound before the music cut out. You shifted in your sleep but remained still so Jin ventured out to find out what had been broken when he found the glass pannel that connected the living room and kitchen was shattered and on the floor while Jungkook and Jimin tried to shift into their rooms.

"Stop! Explain!" He ordered and they looked down at the glass that surrounded the floor,

"We were throwing a ball around and I guess I threw it too hard?" Jungkook suggested Jin stared at him.

"You guess?" Everyone else in the dorm began to slowly leave now the party had been brought to a stop and Jin ordered everyone to bed while he cleaned up the apartment.

(X)

"Hey, no. Go back to bed you," He ordered but you ignored him and continued sweeping up the broken glass.

"I can't sleep without you," You yawned putting the glass into a bin before sweeping up some more while Jin cleaned up bottles that had been left all over the place,

"At least they're all gone now," You said to him as you finished with the glass and walked over to him, he hummed annoyed that he was the one cleaning everything up but glad the boys were all asleep.

"Go back to bed, I'll be back in a minute." He kissed your cheek and you walked off back to his bedroom only to come back three seconds later,

"Jungkook took our bed." Jin groaned walking through to pick the maknae up and throw him over his shoulder and take him to his own bed.

Yoongi: ~ Ima crawl outta the window now, cause I don’t like anyone around

Yoongi didn't even know what he was doing there, he'd only agreed to go along to the house party because he knew it was something you wanted to do. But the second he got there he wanted to go home, you were dragged off by a bunch of girls all giggling about something while he was left alone to explore the giant house on his own. It was some giant frat party that he wasn't interested in and he never thought you would be either, he understood you were both in college and having fun was in your nature but this wasn't usually your kind of thing.

"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" He heard a group of people chanting your name and he looked over to the kitchen to see you downing a bunch of shots after being handed them by some girls you barely knew. He had no idea why you were doing this but he didn't like it, he slowly made his way through the packed hall and stood in the kitchen watching you, he wanted to protect you in case someone decided they wanted to try something on with you. He was your best friend and he hated the thought of someone kissing you, or holding you in any way that he wasn't allowed. He'd been in love with you since you were kids but he was never going to admit that to you.

"Yoongi?!" You slurred stumbling over to him in the living room an hour later, he stared at you as you reached him. Your hands were stretched out for his help and he wrapped his arm around your waist helping to stand you up straight.

"There's an en-suite upstairs, take me." You showed him the key and he nodded helping you walk towards the staircase being careful not to trip you up or walk you into anyone else that was drunk there.

"You're wasted." He groaned when he got you into the bedroom, he locked the door behind you both not wanting someone else to come in and then he helped you into the bathroom.

"I think I drank too much." You giggled drunkenly and he hummed moving the hair from your face as you hunched over the toilet throwing everything except vital organs up.

(X)

"You feeling any better?" He asked when you came back into the bedroom holding your head,

"No, it feels like someone has been clawing at my throat," He groaned telling you that it was probably the stomach acid you'd been throwing up mixed with the alcohol that you'd been drinking.

"Hello!?" Someone was banging on the door and you cringed at the thought of someone else trying to come into the room, you were supposed to use the bathroom and lock up behind you but the muffled music sounded better than the actual music and all you wanted to do was leave.

"Too many people." You said to Yoongi as he went to leave out of the door, you pointed at the window which was a small drop-down to a flat rooftop.

"Out of the window?!" He asked putting the key down on the bed and rushing over to you to make sure you didn't fall and hurt yourself, once you were secure on the roof he followed.

"We should go and get something to eat, I'm starving." He smiled happy that you weren't slurring on your words anymore,

"Pizza?" He quizzed as you climbed down a drainpipe and dropped onto the floor below,

"Sounds good!"

(X)

"What were you drinking a lot for tonight?" He asked looking at you from across the table, you were sitting in a small pizza shop talking back and forth about that night and what you could and couldn't remember.

"I was erm, I guess just trying to fit in with the girls in my class?" He sighed at you and reached his hand out to touch yours, it could have been the alcohol in your system or just your feelings for Yoongi but your heart skipped a beat at the sudden action from him.

"You don't have to fit in, being you is good enough and if it's not for them then fuck them off. You're one of the best girls I've ever met in my life." You smiled down at the floor and he moved so he was sitting beside you,

"I mean it y/n...I wasn't ever going to do this but after tonight and seeing how you don't see how amazing you are...Fuck, okay I'm rambling. I've been in love with you since we were kids and I'm telling you now because I don't know if I'll ever do it again-" He was cut short when you grabbed his face and started kissing him suddenly. His eyes widened as he realised you were kissing him but he soon relaxed into the kiss and put his hands on the back of your head drawing you closer to him as you made out in the middle of the pizzeria.

Hoseok: ~ Kiss me in the seat of your rover, real sweet but I wish you were sober

So cliche to call your brothers best friend when you were wasted at a party and didn't know who else to call, but you trusted Hoseok with your life and you knew Namjoon would be in the studio all night. Plus, if Namjoon ever found out you went to a party like this and got wasted he would kick your ass for it before telling your parents about it.

"Hey! Sleepy! Get in!" You heard Hoseok yell from across the road, he was standing beside your range rover waiting for you to get up and unlock it. You'd brought your car not thinking you were going to drink but once you got there drinks were being handed to you and out of peer-pressure you caved into drinking.

"This is smart you know," He said taking your keys from you and getting into the driver's seat, you looked at him as you got into your seat and laid your head down.

"What is?" You slurred trying to focus on him but your eyes kept drifting onto other things thanks to the alcohol levels in your system that were starting to make it hard to see things clearly.

"Getting someone else to drive for you, though I don't see why you choose me." He let out a breathy chuckle but you just giggled at him,

"I know why I choose you." He cocked an eyebrow at you and smiled,

"Oh yeah? Why is it then?" You tapped your noise putting on your best British accent and said,

"Spoilers Sweetie," He chuckled at you as he turned around the corner to your house and you smiled back at him not wanting to be home so soon.

"Your brother will kill me if he ever finds out I did this," You nodded in agreement with him, Namjoon would have both of your heads on a stick.

"Then I guess you'll just not tell him." You laughed sitting up straight when you saw the living room light was still on meaning your parents were still awake.

"Stay here, sober up a little and then I'll walk you home and say you've been with me practising." You thanked him and began questioning him on how practice was going. You and Hoseok had always had a special connection, you got along with him really well compared to the others.

(X)

"So why did you choose me?" He questions an hour later as you were getting ready to get out of the car, you still weren't sober but you were stable enough to head inside without tripping over your own feet.

"Because I fancy you, which is stupid considering you're my brothers best friend." You leant over the middle of the car and stared him in the eyes,

"You're just cute," You bopped his nose before staring at his lips and leaning closer, he stayed still as he watched you until he felt your lips on his and his eyes fluttered shut.

"Shit, Y/n. No." He pulled away and you started tearing up at the thought of him pushing you away from him like that,

"Just forget this happened." You got out of the car and sprinted into the house before he could ask you to wait.

(X)

The next morning you walked into the kitchen to see Hoseok sitting at the breakfast bar drinking a mug of coffee while your dad was leaving for work.

"Hoseok? What are you doing-"

"We invited him to stay after he dropped off your car keys, fancy forgetting that you drove to the BigHit building." You dad laughed kissing you on the head and leaving without a goodbye, you awkwardly poured yourself a cup of coffee.

"About last night..." Hoseok watched you closely trying to see if you were going to regret kissing him,

"I erm..I'm sorry I kissed you and told you my feelings, I know it's weird cause you're Namjoon's friend and I'm just his dorky younger sister..."

"You're not just Namjoon's dorky younger sister, you're the girl I've had a crush on for a while but again...You're Namjoon's sister it would-"

"Be too weird?" You whispered looking at him with heartbreak in your eyes, but he shook his head.

"It'd be too weird if I didn't talk to him first and now I know that you want me to I will try." He promised you pulling you closer to him and smiling at you, he ran his hand over your cheeks.

"How's your hangover?" You shrugged your shoulders as he kissed your forehead lovingly.

"Not too bad," He smiled and kissed your forehead once more.

"Good, I'll go to the studio and talk to Namjoon about asking you on a date, if he says yes...Would you like to go out sometime?" You giggled at him and nodded watching him get up from the bar stool and leave the house.

Namjoon: ~ You kissed me at your door pulling me close, begging me to stay over

You and Namjoon hadn't been dating long when your best friend decided to throw a birthday party for herself and begged that you go along despite parties not being your thing. Namjoon had agreed to go with you even though they weren't his thing either and you had both planned to find a room in the house to go and sit alone together, just ride out the party to make your friend happy but that wasn't how it had happened. The moment you walked through the front door of her house she handed you a drink and demanded you drink it in front of her, then it was just one after the other until Namjoon lost count and you were swaying from side to side. Now you were standing in a bathroom holding your head,

"I want to go home Joonie," You whispered not wanting to be there any longer, it had been two hours of non-stop drinks and drinking games all ending in your having a drink but your best friend wasn't even drunk yet.

"I'll take you home, you don't have to do this if you don't want to." But he knew you were the type of friend that wouldn't say no to someone if you knew it would make them mad or upset, he brushed the hair from your face and walked out of the bathroom with you.

"Where are you going?! We just started!" Your friend yelled handing you another drink but Namjoon took it and put it down on the side explaining that you were too drunk and he was going to make sure you got home safe.

"Text me!" She called going back to the kitchen as you and Namjoon walked out of her house,

"Thanks, Joonie," You slurred and he bent down so you could get onto his back and he could piggyback you down the road to your apartment.

(X)

"You seem to have sobered up a bit." He laughed as you brought him down for another kiss in front of your front door, he'd stopped off at a small food place to get you something to eat and some water to sober you up and you were already feeling better,

"I am." You whispered kissing him once again and putting your hands into his long brown hair, you tugged on the strands a little and he let out a groan of pleasure which made you smirk.

"You should stay over Joonie," You teased running your finger down his chest and towards the waistband of his pants tugging at them a little. It wouldn't be the first time he stayed at yours or you stayed at his, you'd done it a lot since dating but it would be the first time staying when you were drunk.

"You're still intoxicated, it would be wrong." He told you as he took your wandering hands away from his waistband and put them back by your side.

"Well, will you just stay with me, sleep next to me? You know I sleep better with you here." He agreed and walked with you into your apartment and smiled as you went to make you both a hot drink to unwind with.

Jimin: ~ Tripped down the road, walking home

Jimin was just as drunk as you were so you had no idea why he was the one walking you home when Namjoon was the sober one of the bunch,

"Shit." You giggled as you fell over at your driveway, you scratched your knee on the pavement cutting open the new jeans you'd gotten and bleeding a little.

"You okay!?" Panic overtook Jimin's body and it was as if he hadn't touched a single drop that night, he was down on the floor next to you looking at your knee to see if you needed to go and see someone.

"Jimin it's just a cut," You hissed as he ran his hand over it and shook his head telling you that he needed to go into your apartment and help you out.

"Is this just another lame excuse to get me into bed?" You joked as he walked you into your kitchen and sat you on the kitchen counter. You and Jimin had always been flirting with one another back and forth and it was just a normal thing between you now, though you were only friends with the boys there was just something with Jimin that made it different.

"Shut up, you could have an infection." You watched as he walked around your kitchen looking for something,

"What are you looking for?" You questioned not offering to help in any way,

"First-aid kit?" You nodded at the top cupboard and he reached up for it and came back over to you sitting down on the barstool while he cleaned up your knee.

"There's no chance of affection-"

"Shut up," You hissed as he began adding rubbing alcohol onto your knee cleaning the blood up and then taking off bits of gravel from your knee.

"You could have hurt yourself, you need to be more careful." His voice was filled with concern and he was no longer the flirt Jimin that you loved to tease, he stood up between your legs and looked down at your face.

"I'm fine Jimin," You whispered but he cupped your face in his hands, rubbing his thumb along your cheek and then sighing as he stared down into your eyes shaking his head.

"You could have been hurt though, what if I'd let you go on your own? You could have fallen over worse than this." He grumbled frowning as he thought about you getting hurt, it hurt him to think about.

"Jimin, look at me I'm fine." He stared into your eyes searching them for any sign that you were lying to him but the thought alone of you being hurt was too much for him.

"I just never want anything to happen to you," You smiled running your hand over his cheek,

"Is this some weird way of flirting with me again?" You teased but he shook his head at you,

"This is some weird way of me telling you my feelings for you." You were stunned into silence and he groaned,

"I should have said anything-" He was cut short when you kissed him shutting him up and smiling when his hands held onto your waist.

Taehyung: ~ ripped jeans and a cup that you just downed, take me where the music aint too loud

The house was rammed full with people it was hard to move around to find you but Tae had to find you, you'd called him in a state of panic begging for him to come and get you and he couldn't stand the thought of his girlfriend somewhere she didn't want to be. But when he found you you were standing in the kitchen in your ripped black jeans and a white shirt downing drinks looking happy as can be,

"Tae!" You slurred dropping the cup full of liquid you were holding and wrapping your arms around his neck but he wasn't hugging you back he was just staring at your shoulder.

"You sounded scared," You nodded wiping your mouth on your sleeve and pointing over at a group of girls all staring at you,

"I was but they found me and gave me this drink, and let me tell you it makes my head hurt but I feel better." Taehyung began pulling you through the cramped hallways and towards the bathroom he'd seen on his way to you.

"You don't drink much, why did you just accept drinks from people you don't know and where's your best friend?" He grumbled pulling you into the bathroom and sitting you down on the edge of the bathtub. You looked up at him and drunkenly giggled,

"You're cute from this angle." He rolled his eyes at you and then ran the cold tap telling you to drink some water from it,

"The music isn't so loud in here, it's nice." You whispered loving being able to hear your own thoughts for a little while. Taehyung smiled softly at you and sat down next to you on the edge of the bathtub.

"Thank you for coming to get me," You told him as you turned off the tab and wiped your mouth on a towel,

"It's alright, I'll take you for takeout when we're done in here," You frowned pointing out that you had just drunk water when he started counting, a wave of nausea took over your body and you were on your knees in front of the toilet clutching onto the bowl for support while Taehyung stood behind you and rubbed your back soothingly.

"Let it all Jagi then we'll go get food." He chuckled as you groaned about never drinking again.

Jungkook: ~ Don’t kiss my lips and please don’t drink more beer.

Jungkook was beyond wasted and it was starting to piss you off, he'd promised you that this would be a quick visit to the party but an hour later and you were standing in the corner waiting for him to come and get you.

"You okay pretty thing?!" You heard someone slur from beside you and you groaned moving away from the drunken excuse for a person and went to find your boyfriend on your own.

"Kookie?" You called out when you saw him playing beer pong in the kitchen,

"What is it?" He called out over the music scoring another point, he walked over to you while the other team was drinking and kissed your lips. You grunted at the smell of vodka on his breath,

"Don't kiss me, you're wasted. Can we go now?" You questioned looking over at his friends who were all screaming for him to come back to their team.

"One more game baby, then I'll go."

You watched the 'one more game' as it turned into four more games before finally the tenth round had started and Jungkook was drunker than before.

"Jungkook I'm leaving," You told him and walked out of the kitchen hearing a bunch of ''Ooh's'' coming from his friends as he followed after you.

"Why are you such a buzzkill, I told you it was a quick stop." You got into the car without saying anything and started it up,

"Y/n. Don't ignore me, I hate it when you ignore me and you know it." You did up your seatbelt and stared at him,

"I'm going home. Take a taxi if you're going to stay," He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and then he realised that he'd fucked up.

"Shit...Baby, I'm sorry, we totally missed dinner and-"

"Jungkook, it's whatever. Are you coming home or are you staying?" You hoped he was going to get in the car with you and go home. He opened the door and got in the passenger seat, laying his head on top of yours on the gear stick.

"I'm sorry...again." He did nothing but say sorry the entire drive home and then for the rest of the night he continued to say sorry until you finally told him to shut up and go to sleep.

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @chimchims-stories-and-tales @fan-ati--c @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @rjsmochii @btsiguess-kpop​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ 

[sunlitcigars]

Soft!Dallas Headcanons

(Is this a little ooc? Yes. Am I also a slut for Soft!Dallas? 110% also yes.)

(Not my GIF)

Tags: @lastluvbug @disasterinadress97​

General:

 Dallas would never admit it but he has separation anxiety 

It's always why he stays at Bucks because he knows he's not alone and also why he's always at the Curtis'

He's also got PTSD from New York

Certain gunshots trigger memories in him

We all know the boy is touch starved let's be honest

He's subtle about it though like him always swinging his arm around Johnny and/or touching shoulders with Ponyboy or anyone of the gang

He loves the feeling of someone running their fingers through his hair

He really enjoys cuddles

Doesn't really matter what kind they are he just wants someone to hold him and make him feel okay

Always has his shirt tucked in as a habit because back in New York a lot of people would touch up on him 

 When he's nervous or on the verge of a breakdown he either starts bouncing his legs non-stop or starts scratching at his arms 

Will also play with his ring if he has it on

When he's stressed out and doesn't want to bother the gang or anybody else he'll usually go to the lot and watch the clouds go by if it's nice whether 

But when it rains he'll usually be up in his room at Buck's and watch from his window as it passes by (same goes when it's snowing)

He may like rain but he's scared of thunderstorms

Whenever he hears thunder he either puts his knees to his chest and bury his head in his legs or cover his ears or both

When that happens at the Curtis' one of the guys rub his back and pull him close to them until it's over 

 One of the things he's also afraid of is the dark since his whole life has been consumed by it

If the power goes out when he's alone he grabs a pillow and imagines one of the gang or someone so it doesn't seem like he's alone 

If the power goes out when he's at the Curtis' he'll grab someone's arm or hide his face in their shoulders

Can make bombass cupcakes and cookies but no one has ever tried them except for Tim

He actually really likes jazz because it reminds him of a simpler time in his life

Dallas doesn't really like big parties because the amount of loud shouting reminds him of back in New York when either the police would shoot at random gang members or something else

HE'S EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE AND WE ALL KNOW IT 

Dallas was close to Mrs. Curtis because she was the only women in his life that represented a motherly figure to him 

But when he heard the news about the crash he locked himself up in his room silently crying and never left the room the gang or anyone for that matter saw him for at least two weeks

(The only time anyone saw him in between those two weeks was at Mr. and Mrs. Curtis' fun

NSFW:

He's the type to talk big but is actually really shy in bed

Some people thinks he's the bratty sub type but really he gets flustered so easily

He's packing a 5 ½ to 6 Inches let's be honest here

He's not good with words in bed so if he wants something he'll stutter it out or whisper/mutter it under his breath

He feels so vulnerable laid out naked for the person on the bed 

He wants to feel he's validated enough to know that he's loved by the person 

He won't say it to anyone but he loves the feeling of being filled with cum 

His nipples are sensitive as fuck

Like if someone only played with them he'd orgasm in less then four minutes

D A D D Y  K I N K

H U M I L I A T I O N  K I N K

O R G A S M  C O N T R O L

He's actually really vocal during sex but would muffle his sounds with a pillow or cover his mouth with his hand or bite down on his lips

He whimpers

A lot

If he's feeling special then he'll put on a little show whether that's him strip teasing or touching himself for someone

If he's having a one night stand he prefers to be on his stomach/or hand and knees but if he's in a relationship then he prefers to be on his back so he can look at them and feel comfortable and safe

Hickeys are a huge fuck yes because they remind him who he belongs to and shows people not to try and hook up with him

Another one night stand vs. An actual relationship is that he usually has a cigarette after having sex but if he's in a relationship then he doesn't need one since he already feels content

Aftercare is a huge part for him 

He loves getting pampered and cared for because it's the only time he feels like he doesn't have to act so tough and can relax and let his walls down

FYI he's capable of doing grabby hands just so y'all know

In A Relationship:

He's with the person 24/7

Will low key freak out if he doesn't know where they are and where they went

He's afraid of them finding someone better than him because he feels like he's not good enough for the other person 

Is a little possessive overprotective of the person

If he gets sent to jail he'll give the person his necklace until he's out

He'll also grab something from the person so it doesn't feel like he's completely alone in there

He won't show it but when him and the person are talking through the glass his eyes are filled with loneliness and desperation 

Once he's out he's not leaving their side

Will beat the shit out of anyone who talks shit about his person in a god damn heart beat

He used to be in an abusive relationship so he doesn't let down his walls all the way

If he did something wrong he's always expecting for the worse but then he has to remind himself that they aren't his ex

If him and the person are arguing and they lift up their arm to make a gesture or whatever he will flinch away from them

If they try and leave the bed he'll cling to them like his life depended on it

E X T R A clingy when drunk

He never said I love you so when he said it to the person for the first time he was a stuttering mess

DD/LB: (If you don't like this please don't bitch about it or just simply skip this part)

His headspace is between 4 to 5 years old

Loves when his caregivers call him pet names

Baby boy and prince are his favorite

Likes to color because it keeps his anxiety at a neutral level

Slurs some of his words

Has a fluffy stuffed elephant named Lilac

Finds comfort in his caregivers voice

Clingy

If he wants to be picked up he'll make grabby hands

If he's tired then he'll crawl into his caregivers lap and nuzzle his face into their neck

When he's feeling on the verge of little space in public he'll unnoticeably hold the person's arm 

One of his favorite Disney movie is 101 Dalmatians

Loves to cuddle up in warm blankets

He has a habit of grinding his teeth so his pacifiers help him a lot 

It also helps him whenever he needs a smoke

Or when he needs to bite his lips

Likes bubble baths

His favorite scent to use is lavender :)

Unlike when he's in big headspace he doesn't try and break the rules because when he used to his past caregiver gave him harsh punishments

The first person from the gang he came out to was Ponyboy

One day Ponyboy had to go to Buck's place and while he was in Dallas' room saw Lilac

When he asked him about it Dallas was going to make an excuse but just decided to tell Ponyboy about it

Ponyboy told him he wasn't gonna tell anyone and he kept his word

He kept telling Dallas to tell the gang for a week

It took him a lot to tell the gang he was a little

They all had mixed reactions

All of them were very confused until he explained what it is

(Except for Ponyboy of course)

Darry started to feel more protective over him 

Johnny was surprised because he didn't think of all people Dallas would ever be a little but he was cool with it as long as it helps him

Sodapop is actually really happy about it and he wouldn't mind playing with him when he's in little space

Steve was a little uncomfortable knowing that the reckless hood was a little but he came to accept it

Everyone was waiting for Two-Bit to respond but all of a sudden he just walked out the door without saying anything

Dallas was on the verge of a panic attack and it took awhile for the gang to calm him down

It wasn't until later when Two-Bit came back but this time with a bunch of stuff

He'd gotten Dallas a stuffed animal, bottles, and even a fluffy blanket

Dallas almost started crying ngl

At the end of the day he was just happy his only family accepted him (#supportivegang2020)

When he's in little space the gang tries their best not to smoke or drink around him

On Sundays when they're all not busy they'll watch Disney movies together

One or two of the gang members is alway with him when they're out in public 

With The Gang:

Ponyboy:

Ponyboy reads to Dally whenever he sees him having a bad day or getting nervous 

Whenever Ponyboy reads to him Dallas either has his head in his lap while Ponyboy occasionally runs his hand through his hair or has his head on his shoulder 

On the occasion Dallas tags along with Ponyboy to the library and sometimes picks out a random book he finds interesting or Ponyboy would like and show it to him

Secretly he hopes that Ponyboy would read it out loud to him 

Darry and Soda won't allow him to go to Buck's but if Dallas calls and says he needs him he will not hesitate to go out the door to care for his boyfriend

 If Ponyboy has track Dallas waits for him until it's over

Going to the lot has become a weekly thing for them

When Dallas isn't looking Ponyboy would sneak in a paper that has a poem on it in either his jackets or his pants

Since Dallas never really went to school he has a hard time reading huge words or some so when he's reading over Ponyboy's shoulder he'll ask him

"What's that word?"

"This one?"

"Yeah."

"Absquatulate?"

"Oh." 

Ponyboy finds it fucking adorable

Sodapop:

Sodapop would take him to Dairy Queen and get sundaes and park somewhere with a nice view or park in the parking lot and watch the cars go by

Dallas often goes to the DX and wait until his shift is over 

Sometimes Sodapop will randomly put his hat on Dallas

Whenever girls try and flirt with Sodapop, Dallas either gives them a death state or tell them to fuck off and say he's taken

 When Dallas starts crying Soda will wipe away his tears with his thumbs and kiss his cheeks

Jokingly gave Dallas a promise ring he found somewhere not expecting him to actually wear it but was surprised when he saw it on Dallas' finger

If they're at a party sometimes Soda wanders off but once he sees how uncomfortable Dallas he is he's immediately back at his side

Ponyboy and Darry have walked in on them cuddling on the couch SO MANY TIMES

One time they walked in on them making out heavily Darry had to cover Ponyboy's eyes

Sodapop thinks Dallas looks H O T in his flannels

Darry:

Dallas would always steal borrow Darry's shirt because he feels comforted by it whenever Darry's at work

He absolutely loves it when Darry wraps his arms around him and would always snuggle closer to his chest

(If you really think I'm gonna let Patrick Swayze's singing voice go to waste you're very mistaken)

Whenever he's having a hard time sleeping Darry would usually sing to him until he falls back asleep

Or when Dallas is on edge Darry will hold him close to his chest and sing to him softly until he feels calm again 

Dallas loves Darry's morning voice because it's so low and low key a turn on

When they're out in public Darry would hook his finger around Dallas' belt loops on his jeans to keep him close to him

Some people don't fuck with Dallas as much because they know if they do they'll have to deal with Darry and no one wants to do that unless they have a death wish

If Dallas starts acting up in public all it takes is for Darry to whisper in his ear "behave" 

Darry once talked about the type of flowers his mom liked and kept in the house then a few days later when he got off work he saw the flowers he was talking about in a vase on the dining table with a paper attached saying "Don't ask where I got the flowers and vase"

He almost started crying right then and there

When Dallas is drunk he'll cling to either Darry's chest or back like a koala

One time one of the gang walked in on Darry cooking while Dallas just clung to his back but they didn't say anything in fear of waking up with their dick cut off

Johnny:

Surprisingly Johnny gets protective over 

He will now hesitate to throw down when someone starts talking crap about them

If they're out in public Johnny's always holding Dallas' hand 

Or if they're at the Curtis' Johnny would glance at Dallas every so often to see if he's okay

They both helped each other let their walls down 

When Johnny sees Dallas on edge or not at his best he nudges his head against his shoulder or on his face in hopes of cheering him up (it works more often than he thought it would but he ain't complaining)

 Johnny sometimes shows Dallas some of his favorite places around town

They've fallen asleep in the lot cuddled next to one another multiple times

Johnny tops Dallas sorry not sorry

Sharing cigarettes like kisses

Johnny mindlessly puts his arm in front of Dallas whenever someone's trying to pick a fight

Everytime Dallas talks bad about himself Johnny will be like not on my watch and will do everything and anything to make Dallas feel better

Dallas has a hard time sleeping at night knowing Johnny's with his parents

3AM conversations about the what ifs of life

Two-Bit:

Two-Bit will crack jokes to Dallas when they're alone together about how much of a softie he really is

But if anyone else made fun of Dally he'd beat the literal shit out of them

Also tells bad pick up lines to him even though they're already boyfriends

"Do you have a name? Or can I call you mine?"

Dallas would usually say something back but would low key be blushing

Always trying to make Dallas laugh because he loves it when he does

Would totally smack Dallas' ass in front of the gang

 Respects Dallas' boundaries when he's not feeling it

Ms. Mathews is actually really fond of Dallas 

His sister gave him the whole "hurt my brother and I'll hunt you down" talk

He didn't take it seriously but he keeps it in the back of his head

Dallas is the only one to see Two-Bit's hair without grease and he will play with his hair for hours on end

Two-Bit once fell asleep to Dallas playing with his hair and when he woke up he was still doing it

If they're watching Mickey Mouse Dallas is always on Two-Bit's lap

When he sees Dallas upset he'll do voice impressions of random people (Dallas finds it stupid but it always lightens his mood)

Steve:

Whenever Dallas' on the verge of having a breakdown Steve will drive Dallas around town to calm down

Soft music would be playing in the background while Steve either rubs Dallas' thighs or hold his hand

Dallas would run his finger around Steve's tattoo whenever they're cuddling

Dallas loves laying his head on Steve's chest because it's both soft and muscular 

When he does Steve softly plays with his hair

Whenever he leaves for work he wraps his shirt or jacket around him so Dallas could sleep better

Steve is really observant so whenever he sees something wrong with Dallas he always asks if he's okay

Will glare at anyone who's eyeing his Dallas

Never ever takes his anger out on Dallas

(God will have to fight him if he does)

Dates at the drive in movies and later eating at the diner

They'd always park where they won't get noticed so they can sneak in a few make out sessions here and there ;)

When they go to the diner Dallas kinda feels bad because Steve's always paying for their meals but he always reassures him it's okay

Him and Dallas constantly flirt when he visits the DX

Sodapop finds it amusing and annoying but as long as his best friend is happy he couldn't give a shit

~

Please reblog or comment!

 Let me know if you want to see more and if you'd like any to be turned into a short fic 

Also huge shout out to @lastluvbug​ for helping me come up with most of these ideas! (Thank you for saving my braincells)

[ghostiewriter]

44/66/69 jiara with angst if you please 😜

God this kinda escalated 💀but I hope this is what you wanted, nonnie!

Word Count: 2.3K

Prompts: “I can’t believe you didn’t remember.” // “K.” // “Can you just leave me alone?”

For as long as she could remember, Kiara Carrera was in love with JJ Maybank.

She had tried not to give into the social constructs that people place on a girl whose friends with three boys, the last thing she wanted was to prove them right. But she really couldn’t help herself when it came to that finnicky little blond troublemaker. Kiara couldn’t control it. One day, JJ was just her usual best friend who was gross and funny and overall quite cool. And the next day, she was starting to notice how he was beginning to build some more muscle and how she liked the way his hair was messy but still looked good and how his laughs started to give her butterflies. She honestly didn’t know what happened but she couldn’t deny it. She was in love with JJ Maybank.

It was around 8th Grade when JJ started to notice that Kiara was no longer Kiara. She was Kiara. It was stupid of him, truly. He knew the rules, and he would never want to do anything to ruin his friendship with Kiara. She was his best friend. But it was getting harder and harder to just see her as ‘one of the pogues’ and not as ‘Kiara Carrera: the super-hot hippie chick that was slumming it with them’. JJ had always noticed girls, he’d been noticing them for a while. But Kie was different. Kie had always been different.

The summer after 8th Grade was one of pure torture. The pogues spent every day together and yet, both JJ and Kiara were finding it harder and harder to deny their feelings. They were young, they were hormonal, and they were confused. They were a couple of months from entering high school and figuring out the feelings they had for their best friend was the last thing on their mind. As usual, Pope and John B remained oblivious to what was happening between their two friends. And that is exactly how JJ and Kiara ended up alone on the back porch of the Chateau as Pope and John B headed inside, claiming they were beat and couldn’t stay awake any longer.

Kie glanced down at the half-full beer can in her hand—they had stolen a few from Big John—before offering it to the blond who had finished his a while back. JJ grinned and took the can happily, taking a large swing of it. The silence between them was deafening.

“Everything is going to change, isn’t it?’ Kie eventually spoke up, causing JJ to turn to her with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s bound to, right? We’re starting high school.” She huffed out, watching him take another sip before he passed the can back to her. “It’s a whole different ball game over there.”

He frowned. “It’s still school, Kie.”

“Yeah but,” She paused, his gaze falling to his wrecked converse. “What if…what if we don’t survive through high school? What if high school is what it takes to break up the pogues?”

JJ watched her closely, seeing that this wasn’t just some joke. This was something that had really been bothering her. JJ sighed, quickly shuffling closer and knocking his shoulder against hers. “Nothing can break the pogues, Kie. We are invincible.”

She turned to look at him, her lips pressed together like she was contemplating something. “Are we though?”

“Kie,” He whispered, a small crease forming between his eyebrows. “We’ll always be friend, no matter what.” He paused for a moment. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Her eyes trailed down his face before pausing on his lips. It would be so easy. Their faces were inches away from each other. All she would have to do is lean forward.

“Jay…” She breathed out.

“Kie, we can’t,” He gulped, his eyes glancing between her eyes and her lips. “The rules…the others…”

“They don’t have to know.” She whispered, watching him closely, letting him make the move. And JJ contemplated it, for a solid few seconds before he wasted no time in leaning forwards and kissing Kiara as he so desperately had been wanting to.

That was how JJ and Kiara’s secret rendezvousing began. They never told Pope and John B, scared what their friends would say about the clear ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ rule. So they snuck around, had their secret little moments. It was exhilarating, it was their dirty little secret.

But just as Kiara had worried, things changed when summer ended.

A week before the return of school, her parents had dropped the bomb on her that she wouldn’t be attending Kildare County High School like the boys, but instead the prestigious academy that most of the kook children attended. She was furious and angry and she felt utterly betrayed that they had kept this from her for so long. So, Kiara found herself running into the arms of the person she needed most in that moment.

“I can’t believe they didn’t tell me!” She cried, arms wrapped around JJ’s waist as he rubbed comforting circles on her back.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Kie.” He muttered, sighing a little when her head snapped up.

“I’m going to be in a totally different school, Jay! It’s a pretty big deal to me!”

But he simply shook his head, gently bringing his hands to cup her face. “No, it’s not. Because you being at some stupid kook academy won’t change the fact you’re one of us, you’re a pogue.”

She sighed. “But—”

“No, Kie.” He said firmly. “I’ll always be here for you, remember? And we can get through this.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

And for a while, everything was okay. Against her parents’ wishes, Kiara found way to hang out with the pogues despite her demanding timetable. She always found space for them in the weekends. As for JJ, Kie would find herself missing Wednesday gym classes to go meet up with the blond. They would cherish these moments together, enjoy the crappy little picnics they would have in more private areas of the beach and take the HMS Pogue out whenever they needed to get away. It was perfect, she was living the best of both worlds.

Then Sarah Cameron happened.

It was subtle at first. Kiara would just rain-check a few of their general pogue hangouts. It was no big deal though, she had to somehow fit in the kook academy. Then, eventually she stopped showing up altogether. But her parents had made her take a bunch of extracurriculars. The boys didn’t think anything of it. But then they saw Kie all buddy-buddy with Sarah Cameron and her wee posse on an insta story one night and the truth hit them. They were losing their best friend.

JJ was in denial though. Kie was still showing up to most of their dates, and when she did she seemed like her usual self. He continued to live in ignorant bliss, especially as their six-month anniversary came up. To anyone else, it probably seemed stupid. But for JJ, it meant everything. Six months with his best friend, with the girl he loved, with someone he trusted blindly. And it just so happened to fall on a Wednesday. It was perfect.

He had everything set up. He borrowed the boat, he splurged a little with some of the money he saved from the tips he got the last few months and actually bought—not steal—a gift for her. A small necklace with the letter ‘J’ engraved into a small heart that was hanging from the chain. He even managed to convince Heyward to give him a bottle of champagne (with help from Yvonne who was a bit of a sap for the young love prospect). The point was that JJ had everything ready.

All that was left was for Kie to show up. So, he waited. And he waited. And he waited and waited and waited.

It must’ve been three hours later when JJ finally realised that after the lack of response from her calls and texts, she wasn’t coming. His heart was pounding, thinking of the possibility that something could’ve happened to her.

What if she got into a car accident? What if her parents had found out about her skiving class? What if she had been kidnapped or—

And then he saw it. That damn insta story on Rafe Cameron’s account, showing a perfectly fine Kie partying with some other kook girls. She forgot. She stood him up.

In a fit of anger, JJ clenched the chain in his hand, letting out a scream of frustration. The next thing he knew he was pulling his arm back, hand loose around the chain before he saw it fly through the sky and land in the sea with an unsatisfying plop. And for a second, JJ felt like he was drowning with that damn necklace.

It wasn’t until the next day when Kie realised she had missed her date night with JJ. She let out a small curse, head pounding as she reached for her phone and clicked on his contact name.

Kie: hey, sorry about last night, I wasn’t feeling well. make it up to you tonight?

JJ: can’t. working.

Kie: you don’t work on Thursdays tho?

JJ: I do now.

Kie: are you okay?

JJ: why wouldn’t I be?

Kie: idk you just seem weird

JJ: K.

Kie: K?

She frowned a little when the little ‘read’ notification came up but he never replied. After taking some painkillers for her head, she found herself in the car, driving to the Chateau where she noticed was empty except JJ’s motorbike outside. Without a second thought, she headed inside, finding JJ drinking away on the couch.

“So, this is working?” Kie asked, her nose scrunched slightly at the strong smell of alcohol in the room.

“Fuck off.” He slurred out, not even bothering to look at her.

“Who shoved a stick up your ass?” She scoffed, swooping down to grab the beer from his hand before he could take another sip. “Oh my god, JJ, how many have you had?” She muttered when she noticed the empty bottles around him.

“Like you care!” He laughed out bitterly, leaning back as he finally glanced up at her for the first time. “Shouldn’t you be with your little kook friends?” He snipped.

She froze, lips pressing together. “JJ, I can explain—”

“Oh, can you now?!” He exclaimed, pushing himself to stand up. He stumbled a little but he caught himself on the edge of the couch. “Please, Kiara, please tell me what bullshit excuse you have for missing our anniversary for some fucking stuck up assholes—”

“What?” She whispered.

He looked at her, eyebrows slightly furrowed before he let out a scoff. “Of course, what else was I expecting? I can’t believe you didn’t remember. Or better yet, I can’t believe I thought you’d remember!”

Her words got caught up in her throat. This was far worse than she thought. “JJ, I am so—”

“What? Sorry? What’s the fucking point, Kie? You’ve already broken my heart!” His words were slurred and messy, but they were honest.

“You’re being a little dramatic, Jay. You’re drunk—” She tried once again but that only seemed to anger him further.

“NO, KIE!” He snapped. “You…You don’t get to act like you aren’t the one that fucked up here, aright? I fucking loved you! I poured my heart out to you! I opened up to you! I even fucking used my tips on you!” He yelled, tears welling up in his eyes as he spoke. “But you have been nothing but a bitch.”

Kie had felt like she had been slapped. Loved. Past tense. “A bitch?”

“Just like your little fucking kook friends! The lot of you are a bunch of bastards that just laugh and mock people like me, don’t you? C’mon, Kie, tell me. Did you make fun of me to your new friends? Tell them about the poor fucker you’ve been stringing along like some lovesick puppy, huh?”

“You know I would never do that!” She argued back.

“No, I don’t! I don’t, Kiara, because I don’t even fucking know who you are anymore!” He countered, chest heaving. “And truthfully, I don’t want to know you anymore. Whoever you are, you aren’t Kie. Not my Kie.”

She felt the tears burning in her eyes, felt her heart pounding in her chest. But most of all, she felt her blood boiling. He didn’t know. He didn’t know how hard it was to finally fit in with the kooks, after months of dealing with their bullying and teasing. She was finally finding a place there. He didn’t get it. He would never get it.

“I never was your Kie.” She stated simply, her voice void of any emotion.

“Great. Perfect.” He replied. They both stared at each other for a while, no one saying anything. “You’ve changed. You’re not a pogue, not now.”

“Change can be good sometimes.” Kie countered as though his words didn’t shatter her heart.

“Just…go. Go be with Rafe Cameron and act like one of his little lackeys.” He scoffed. “Not like any of us want you here anyways.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“I’m going.”

“Go then.”

But Kie couldn’t find it within herself to actually move.

“Can you just leave me alone?” He eventually yelled out, fists clenched at his side. “Just fucking go! Be with them!”

That seemed to snap her out of whatever frozen state she was in and Kiara quickly turned, tears pouring down her face as she reached for the door handle.

“I hope they were worth it, Kiara. I hope they were worth losing us.”

She pressed her lips, taking a few seconds to compose herself as she wiped away a few tears. Then she spoke up, let her words be her goodbye, because deep down Kie knew that this was it. She had lost her pogues. She had lost her JJ. And she would never get them back.

“They are.”

Then, she left, never once looking back, not even when she heard the sound of a scream and glass smashing, not even when every atom in her body wanted to run back into his arms.

She never looked back.

[spitefulinamillionways]

i had an idea that was beej finds out Lydia is being bullied at school and is a very over protective older brother about it and wants to murder them

yes yes yes!! i love that trope of beej just being way too overprotective when it comes to bullies

(also sorry for answering this so late!)

(oh yeah, tw, there are some lesbian and gay slurs here, oops)

god this one gets a bit edgy

-

“They did what?” Beej shot his head at Lydia, his eyes widening.

“No, it’s not that bad, plus it’s happened before. So like, I’m used to it.” Lydia mumbled, grimacing when he slammed his fist on the table.

“Those bitches!” He shouted, before pointing up a finger and shaking it, whispering, “I’m gonna ffffFUCKING kill them. Just you fucking watch me.”

“Beej, no! You can’t do that! What if you get in big trou-”

“Lydia, I’m gonna be honest with you I’ve killed so many people since you’ve summoned me and not one body has been found. That I know of, at least,” He counted on his fingers until 23, mumbling a name under his breath every number, “Oh, no, that one Smith guy was found..I think...and, uh...the other guy too, I forgot his name..”

Lydia sat there in pure disbelief as he literally counted how many people he’d killed. I mean, he’d obviously killed some people before but now? When he was with them? That was just...who was she kidding, it was inevitable something like this would happen, but she didn’t expect so many. How much did he count, 23? 24? He’s basically a serial killer at that point.

“Beej- You know that,” She blinked a couple times and stared at him, “You know that makes a serial killer, right?”

“Oh, shit, does it?” He looked surprised and stopped counting.

“Yeah...”

“Because that’s cool as FUCK!” He grinned, “Anyway, about those girls, want me to kill them for you?”

Lydia sighed and took her backpack, putting it on and opening the door.

“Look, do you want to come to my school or not?” Lydia groaned, looking back at him.

“Yeah!” He rushed out the door, grabbing Lydia’s wrist and dragging her with him, “Wait, which way?”

“That wa-”

“That way!” He shouted, running left, the way Lydia pointed. She giggled at how fast he was, and how weird this would probably look to other people. Just two people, one just slightly taller than the other speeding down the street. You’d think they were about the same age until you heard Betelgeuse’s smoker voice.

All of a sudden, they were at the bus stop.

“This is it, right?” Betelgeuse looked around, and spotted a bus heading their way, “Oh, look, just in time!”

Lydia felt dizzy all of a sudden. She couldn’t process what was happening due to how fast he was being.

“Uh...yeah..” She stumbled onto the bus and finally gained composure. She showed her bus pass to the driver and sat down, Beej soon following but being stopped by the driver.

“Hey! Kid, where’s your pass?” He asked in a stern tone.

Betelgeuse stopped and stared at him, before slowly walking to a seat next to Lydia, not breaking eye contact. He realised the bus wasn’t going to move, so he simply possessed the bus driver and began driving. He didn’t know how to drive. He almost crashed many times. Lydia found it fun as fuck though.

“Please become our bus driver.” Lydia begged while walking the ‘secret way’ inside the school. (It was just the back school entrance.) The two walked through the school, Betelgeuse disguised as a normal-looking, brown haired student. He looked as if he was in the grade above Lydia, and he did get a bunch of weird looks for that, but he didn’t really care. Her school was way more boring than he thought it’d be.

“Kids don’t get hit by their teachers anymore?!” He shouted in the middle of the hallway, Lydia eagerly trying to shush him.

“No, that’s illegal.” She whispered, “Let’s go somewhere else, okay?”

She walked him over to the back of the school, and began lecturing him.

“I told you your name is gonna be Dewey!”

“Dewey is a dumbass name! What kind of person is called Dewey?!” He shouted, raising his arms and shoulders.

“WHAT KIND OF FUCKING NAME IS CALCULATOR?! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT A CALCULATOR IS?!” She screamed, shaking him.

He started at her and shrugged his shoulders before quickly turning around at a girls voice calling his ‘name’. Lydia stared at her, pissed off.

“Hey! Calculator, was it?!” The girl snickered with her friends, “Who’s your mum, some druggie alcoholic?”

Oh, little did she know.

“It’s actually - ohmygod - It’s actually, uh, Dewey..” He rolled his eyes and looked at Lydia, before whispering to her, “Who is this bitch?”

“Look, Mackenzie, I’m not dealing with your bullshit right now. I’m talking to my friend.” Lydia groaned and flipped her off.

Mackenzie and her friends giggled, then all of them looking back at the two almost in complete sync.

“Whatever, Lyds-”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” She stepped forward, angrily. She was tired of this girl and just wanted her to go away.

“Awh, I’m so scared! Is the little baby gonna have a tantrum?” Mackenzie teased, looking back at Betelgeuse, “So, ..Dewey.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the name, “That’s a new one.”

“Hey! Dewey is cool as shit! Mackenzie sounds like a god-damn fuckin’ car brand!” He yelled, crossing his arms.

“Whatever. You’re probably just as much of a f*g as she is a d*ke.” She rolled her eyes and walked off.

Jesus, that escalated quickly.

Lydia opened her mouth to say something, but closed it and bit her lip. She looked to the side and crossed her arms, it was obvious this wasn’t the first time she was being bullied or made fun of for her sexuality, or just the way she acted in general.

Betelgeuse stared at the girls laughing and walking away in pure awe. He looked at Lydia, then back at the girls, then Lydia, then the girls. He thought about what he was going to do (for once) for a second. How everyone would react. Was he gonna kill a child?

Lydia was holding back tears, thinking about all the things she had been told in the past, she seemed to be breaking.

He was gonna kill a child.

He stomped towards the group and picked Mackenzie up by the collar, strands of his hair already turning red.

“Listen here, you absolute fucking son of a bitch. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but if you think you’re gonna get away with saying shit like that about my best friend,” He laughed and looked at her friends, “You better fucking think twice.” He brought Mackenzie up to throw her down, but was interrupted by Lydia’s voice.

“Stop! Beej, please! I told you not to do this!” Lydia’s voice broke.

He groaned, glaring at the girl before looking at a non existent watch on his wrist, then looking back at her, smiling.

“Well, would you look at the fucking time!”

Betelgeuse looked at her again for a second before dropping her to the ground and grabbing Lydia’s wrist, walking off. He stopped and went back to the girls for a moment and flipped them off with both hands. Lydia just wanted to go home. She hated this. Of all things, why did this have to happen?

Betelgeuse went out of his disguise and teleported her back home, three hours before school was supposed to end. He let go of her wrist and hugged her.

“I’m sorry, kid..you don’t deserve that. Mom would call me stuff like that and, uh, I reacted basically the same way you did, believe it or not.” He tried to sound soft but the gruff voice remained. Lydia wipes her eyes and sighed, hugging him back.

“It’s okay.”

-

JEsus this was a rollercoaster. uh it got a bit over the top and edgy near the end, but i like writing things like that so i hope you don’t mind it too much

thanks for sending me this ask! that’s two angsty one shots in a row, which i honestly didn’t expect

i don’t mind writing either fluff or angst, i’m just not the best at angst and there are probably so many people who are way better at writing that me (i’m still surprised because are actually sending me asks in the first place! i thought people would just ignore my posts about it, y’know?)

beetlebabes please fuck off xx

🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤!!

[queenieloveswriting]

The Fool and Her Temperance

Before your parents split, you lived in the outerbanks,with your mum and dad, close to your cousin ,john b. Not long after Big John, your dad's brother, died your mum and dad split, your dad stayed in outer banks to watch over his brothers son and keep his steady job, your mum however took you back to her home country Italy, and you lived in a small but cosy house near your grandparents. Not having a choice as a 7 year old you had to leave outer banks behind. When you got older your mum let you have your dad's number and then eventually you got your cousins, and began to get extremely close.

John and your dad simultaneously kept you up to date on the news and gossip of the outer banks, you'd call each other and it became your Sunday night ritual. Being a call or facetime you'd talk about school, you talked him through a grieving process and eventually settled for his reason to not believe until there is physical evidence. You barely know his friends other than jj whose number you also had, but they knew the name ‘Luna D’Angelo.

It was a Sunday night and you'd just, finally, convinced your mother to let you visit your dad for the summer and soak in the sun while she moved for a promotion during the month in Portland, of all places. You are just about to call john and tell him the news. School was literally out as of Friday and you were sure he was partying like he told you he'd be on Saturday, which is why he called you earlier. After updating your dad, who you also talked to every Friday night after school, You got to john 

After repetitive buzzing he finally picked up, you heard some staticky music and slightly tipsy John b 

“Heyyy Luna you okay we calleddd yesterdayyy i thinkkkk”

“Heyy john yeah we did sorry i just had some really good news i wanted to tell you but i can ring you tomorrow if its better”

“Don't be silllyyy I've only had a few anyways, I'll remember what is it, please don't tell me your pregnant because uncle joe’ll be pisseddd” he chuckled

“No oh my god I just wanted to say that my mum gave me the all clear and I’m coming to live with dad for the summer and maybe longer i don't know but yeah”

The line went silent 

“WOOOHOOO she coming Back GUYS DID YOU HEAR THAT LUNA D’ANGELO IS COMING FOR THE SUMMER "he shouted 

“Woah man stop shouting "you heard from the other line

“Jj bro my cousin you remember my cousin Luna she just told me yeah that she's coming back for the summer and maybe longer if her mum lets her brooo this is going to be the best summer ever lulu I've missed you”

“Wait really bro as in uncle joe’s Luna?”he asked 

“Duh bro the only Luna we know dumbass you wanna say hi”

“What do you mean bro she's not here or is she waiting wha--?”

“She on the phone,ohhh actually you speak to her for a second I'm getting looks from over there”

“Oh wait John its fin--”

Next thing you heard was some shuffling and a deeper voice fill your speaker phone

“Luna you there? "he asked

“Shit yeah hey jj I was about to go anyways but well now you know I’m finally going to meet you and the guys well and girl but”

“yeah you areee” he slurred 

“Anyways I'll see you in about a week j”

“Soon beautiful gunna have the best summer, finally going to a legendary obx party "he laughed, tipsy

“Sounds good jay I'll see you soon bye "you hung up

after finally hanging up on the phone you mentally facepalmed yourself for being so awkward, you went to bed 

A slow week went by, and you had finally arrived in the outerbanks.Stepping of the boating docks you searched the crowd for you dad. Once you spotted him holding a sign that said “bentornato la mia bella figlia”welcoming you back in your second, most used language,italian.Running into your dad's arms,you both had a little cry eventually getting settled into a cosy shack. After catching up with your dad you told him about you and john b becoming close once he gave you his number. Deciding you should surprise him with his arrival, Your dad drove you in his pick up to a block away from the chateau you remember you uncle calling it.

Walking up to the porch you heard voices coming from the dock, followed by their matured bodies coming in from a boat, scrapping your original plan once you saw your cousin, you just screamed running to the completely oblivious family member

“Johnnnn I’m back” you giggled still running

.Catching his attention he turned around running towards you in complete shock “holy fucking shit your here I thought it was tomorrow "he shouted suffocating you with a hug ”oh my god john b i missed you “you giggled and he sent you a watery laugh in return "I wasn't expecting you back soon  wow you look so different from the scrawny little 7 year old in uncle joe’s photos "he cooed

Before you could argue you were aware of the three people sending you confused glares. The only girl there, assuming it was kiara not having seen pictured to put name to face, coughed. ”someone wanna tell me what the fucks going on “she addressed earning john to roll his eyes at the over sassed girl, who had looked slightly jealous ”Kie this is Luna D’Angelo uncle joes daughter I’ve mentioned her she's my cousin, I might have forgot to tell them you were coming “her attitude dropped when she realised it was you “ohmygod ”she physically facepalmed, causing you to laugh "I had no idea you were coming the fuck john dumbass ”she elbowed him walking towards giving you a hug. ”Nice to finally meet you and put a face to name, speaking of you are fucking gorgeous the fuck ”she giggled walking  back to the boys wo still hadn't said anything, causing you to break the silence "so that makes you pope "you pointed to the buff dark skinned boy who nodded ”yeah that's me Luna I had no idea you were coming he's useless” he stated walking up to you with a quick hug “that he is "you turned round to finally face the blonde who had a cheeky smirk on his face shamelessly checking you out you rolled your eyes. Facing him you looked up too him finally seeing what he looked like ,defiantly exceeding “cute", you opened you arms and he came towards you, similarly to john b engulfing you and spinning you in a quick hug “its crazy actually hearing you and seeing you in real life "he teased still hugging you. Aware of the confused gases from the rest you backed out of the hug, missing the slight disappointment on jj’s face. Rolling your eyes at his comment, you looked up into his mischievous eyes and innocently winked taking a second take on his Greek-caved body “I know good to finally see what you guys all look like definitely not what I was expecting though". Turning around to the others who’d been oddly silent "so what's now guys "you asked everyone "well we were just about to go to kiara family's restaurant and grab some free food you wanna come? "John b asked. Following your cousin who was walking down the dock you made conversation with kiara about her Restaurant and how they finally got paper straws, being an environmentalist, you enjoyed discussing this.

When you finally got to the wreck you had made and surprisingly gotten close quite quickly you had conversations with all of them except jj, who was next. After discussing what you think happened to bodies after you die with pope, what was cuter a bottlenose dolphin or a harbour seals with kiara, dolphins winning the argument, and just life with john b how he is coping with  everything including his dad, you wondered what you'd talk about with jj, having brief text conversations with him on the phone you don't know him that well however being the only one you'd actually heard from and the stories about him from john b had been quite funny an intrigued you on the boys with an adrenaline addiction.

Once you sat down ,purposefully next to jj, pope and john b in front of you and kiara walking around helping her dad close up.

“So jj ”you turned facing him "I hear you are quite the adrenaline junkie, correct? "you sassed .Smirking he replied “quite the risk taker princess why’d you ask”

“Well you see now you might have a bit of competition because in Italy I am known as principessa pazza translating to crazy princess so you better be watching yourself blondie” you teased "what's got you that rep princess crazy "he joked. Laughing at his tone you pulled out your phone to a video collage you friends in Italy made of all the things you'd done from surfing to vine swinging. Passing him the phone you studied his priceless face watching yourself, internally hoping he's not judging your body in your bikinis and just watching what you were actually doing “damn Luna that's so sick where are you in this one", he asked scrolling the the clip of you surfing doing a perfect spin in the waves ”oh there, that's actually really funny story you wanna hear? "you asked to which he nodded “so basically me and a bunch of my guy friends, because no girls wanna get there hand dirty over there "you laugh intaking a breath “we had a 4 hour trek to get there and not having a car we had to walk to the mains and hitch hike and walk for about an hour and a half to actually get there with our boards to because we had no money to pay for rentals it was difficult I remember having to sit in the back of this guys car and my friend Ricco say in the front and there was only space for two in the back so i had to sit on Ryan's lap and put my feet on Angelo’s lap so we could have our boards on the floor, anyways once we finally got there and i got the feeling in my legs back we surfed for hours the beach was so busy and we found this beautiful cove which is in the video and the waves were so much better ,best waves I've ever surfed, we all slept on the sand around a makeshift fire from my lighter and so i had to sleep in my bikini them in their shorts because we didn't want to go home covered in sand and anyways after about 6 hours we found our way home, I didn't realise my mum would be back but the 3 weeks of no phone or tv and grounding was totally worth it, and that is what happened in tuscany,italy,ragazzo Biondo "you took a deep breath reliving the memory for a short period of time. "your mum was always a bit melodramatic Lu “your cousins chimed in. You were oblivious to the fact they had been listening to you relive your memories. Rolling you eyed you nodded “want to hear melodramatic she found out that when i was grounded the boys still came through my window and we all were still hanging out when she told me I couldn't and I was grounded for the end of the  month and she took my door off "you rolled your eyes at one of your mums various punishment “why do you think I want to live with dad "you joked.

“Wait so you are moving back? I thought it was only the summer "pope questioned earning a glare from john 

“I am staying for the summer but I was going to ask my dad eventually if I enjoy it here if he wouldn't mind it it would take my mum loads of convincing though but I think I can convince her if I kept my grades solid and got a job  could probably ’be trusted” ”you and john both rolled your eyes at the comment

“So that means there is a 50/50 chance you could be staying? "john asked hopeful

“Most likely cuz I mean id say more 75 no/25 yes but whatever floats your boat ”“I hope you do it'd be so cool to have you here and plus i think your dad would love that, we talk about you a lot, he misses you "he sighed you sent him a smile

“So what do you all do round here, any adventures? "you smirked

John b rolled his eyes but continued to answer your question “its pretty chill and well the same we go out on the boat swim or fish for a bit come home and probably to a kegger on the beach get wasted fight with kooks the usually” he stated "that doesn't sound too bad could surf all day, one question though "you asked and john b hit you with ‘shoot’ "the fuck is a kook? ”you asked earning snickers from the group and an in depth conversation with the boys about the rich snobs on the other side of the island.

Checking your phone it was almost 10:00 and you figured you should probably head home. Saying your goodbyes jj offered to walk you home. Insisting you and your dad lived a block away from his anyway, which was true.

When you arrived at your front door you turned to him and thanked h for walking you home 

“Honestly it's no problem I just wanted to talk to you like one on one for a bit you know, it's good to put a face to Luna and i honestly really hope you can stay longer, we could get used to having you around "he said causing your face to slightly flush at the complement “thanks jay that mean a lot rea-”you were cut off by your dad opening the door “ahh right on time Luna, jj how you doing boy "he asked causing you to look between then a few times in confusion “yeah I'm good sir just walking Luna home we had food at the wreck with the others "he answered your dad “thank you for feeding her son I do my shop tomorrow and was worried "you dad laughed “it's fine anyways I better go before john b locks up or I'll be sleeping on the porch "he said "wait I thought you were going back you yours and that's why you walked here ”jj chuckled "not going back to mine tonight me and john b are going to go out tomorrow so it's just easier if i sleep there "he answered looking up to your dad sending a playful wink to you “goodnight guys catch you tomorrow lulu "he waved off "night jj ”followed by “night son" your dad replied.

When you got in you caught up with your dad for the night and headed to bed looking forward to your full day out tomorrow on the boat with everyone

Tagged-

@sguymon21

A/N 🤷🏽got boredddd,,name and kind of themed on the two tarot cards ‘the fool’ and ‘the temperance’ putting in a summary on my masterlist for the meanings of it . Let me know if you wanna be tagged and if you liked it. Feel free to message me always wanna make some frienddddddss,,thanks for the love on my other fics if your interested here’s my masterlist

[canumoveurseatup-no]

dark room

summary: grow through what you go through.

(please read warnings and author’s note before continuing to read)

wc: 10.5k

pairings: dad!sam x black!reader

warnings: this gets real okay... it contains drug use, alcohol abuse, mental illness, parental abuse, mentions of suicide- it’s dark, it’s raw, it’s real so please read with caution. reader has fluid sexuality, light smut

a/n: my 20th birthday passed months ago (this was supposed to be out on my birthday, back in august) and i know that doesn’t seem like a big deal to other people but it’s a big deal to me, especially coming from someone who has tried to end their lives multiple times, someone who had battled mental illness for years, someone who used substances to numb any sort of pain. It’s been a long time coming. And I’m still fighting every single day but I am here so this is mainly for me but also for anyone who is struggling with anything in their lives. Keep. Pushing.

———————

You wanted to feel like you were dancing on the ceiling. You wanted to do your own little lonely dance like no one was watching. The room was hot, the smell stale, hair sticking to your forehead, nothing was real. You were a mere atom prancing across a screen of color. You didn’t notice the phones out recording you while you experienced one of the best trips of your life. They weren’t making fun of you, they were cheering you on but their cheers fell on deaf ears as it felt like you had cotton stuffed in your own.

You fell in a chair, seeing various pills splayed out on the table. So many to choose from, they were so pretty but then the sight of little white lines caught your attention, you weighed your options. You had enough nose candy before you even got here. You pre-gamed so hard you came to the party two hours late from falling out.

You wanted to touch the ends of the universe so you snatched another tab off the table and pressed it on your tongue like a fruit roll up with tongue tattoos on it. The dancing bodies in front of you distorted as you grabbed a heavy liquor bottle and stumbled from standing up too fast... or maybe it was the drugs? You felt your face smile and your body go numb as you fell back on a bunch of clouds.

You found a guy eyeing you from the other side of the room or at least it seemed like it, his face was an absolute blur. But soon he was right in front of you and you could see specs of yellow in his brown irises. They were almost like sunflowers.

“Wanna have a good time?,” he opens the palm of his hands and you see a pretty blue pill.

“What’s it do?,” you don’t notice the slurring, you don’t notice the left side of your body going numb... you stopped breathing for a minute and as fearsome as it sounds... you welcomed it. It’s all you’ve been craving since you were nine years old... to just. stop. breathing. But your chest opened up again, hugging the air tight in its lungs to keep your body alive.

“However you’re feeling now? Multiply that times ten... it makes you feel like your third eye is opening. You can taste colors, see tastes... it’s unreal,”

“How much for it?,” the words flew past your lips faster than your mind could understand.

“It’s on me,”

—————

You don’t remember how you made it home, maybe you walked again- maybe you made the right choice and called an Uber.

You only remember mumbling a “bye, daddy” to the guy who gave you the blue pill, sending you off with more for the future. You felt like God was holding you in his hands and blessing you with the best life right now.

You weren’t aware of your little brother’s door being cracked open and him waiting up for you as you tried to quietly get to the bathroom.

“Oops,” you laughed to yourself. It was a sight your little brother saw often- you didn’t know that, your dad didn’t know that. Keith never knew how to tell anyone he was worried for his sister. He was 12- he didn’t know what was wrong with you. But he didn’t hesitate to scream when he found you in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet with throw up all over yourself.

“Y/N!!,” he tried to shake you awake but your eyes were dull and half lidded, “Y/N stop! Wake up, wake up, wake up!!,” he even slapped you. Nothing worked.

“Dad!! Daaaaddd!,” Keith ran down the hallway to your dad’s room. Sam woke in a frenzy and looked at Keith with worry

“Something’s wrong with Y/N! She won’t wake up!,” the 12 year old sobbed and Sam booked it out of his room to find your body limp on the toilet. Underwear mid thigh, as if you passed out while trying to pull them down to pee. Throw up all in your lap, body dripping with cold sweat.

“Keith, Call 911!”

—————

He always watched you now... he always had appointments set up at the doctors to test your urine but it didn’t stop you from using. There were always ways around passing drug tests. Often times you’d ask a friend to pee in a cup then pour it in a ziploc baggie and hide it in your sports bra to keep it warmed up. You knew how to beat the system.

Pour a little in the toilet so it makes it look like you peed, they always check afterwards. Then pour it in the cup to the line they mark. You ‘pass’ each time.

“You’re coming on the trip,”

“I’ve earned your trust,” your mouth felt dry, the edible you took before 6th period still hasn’t worn off yet and you were trying to keep calm- there’s no way he was going to ruin your high.

“You’ve earned yourself suicide watch and consistent drug tests. My trust for you disappeared when I found you damn near dead and had to watch them hook you up to machines and put you on temporary dialysis amongst other things to save your life,”

He was still bitter. It happened a month ago. He should be over it, you were.

“Fuck you, Dad,” you stormed off to your room and slammed the door

“Don’t you talk to me like that in my house!,” he yelled from the other side of your door. He should have taken it off the hinges like he planned.

You didn’t want to go on some stupid resort. Something about channeling your inner peace and looking at the bigger picture. Everyone was going, even his old team members, a family you didn’t feel a part of, he thought it’d be a good idea to surround yourself with good company.

You scream out and begin throwing clothes into a bag knowing he wasn’t letting up.

You see the glimmer of a small plastic baggy under your mattress and pull it out, seeing an array of candy. Maybe you could survive this trip?

You stuff the baggy in a pair of socks and smile, hoping to get a sense of familiarity.

You were gonna survive this trip.

—————

You shouldn’t have worn shorts today. That stupid health class intern saw the marks on your thigh and told the school nurse and now your found yourself in the car with your dad yelling at you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you not realize you have a main artery in your thigh! Had you gone deep enough you would have been gone, Y/N! What the fuck is wrong with you,”

You figured if a parent found their 11 year old was cutting themselves they’d do something other than yell... they’d do something other than tell the entire family and have them call at you just to yell at you as well.

“Nothing in life is that bad for you to do that to yourself!!,”

“That’s stupid, Y/N! Who in their right mind would do that to themselves?!,”

You heard it all. You cried when you got home, and hugged your little brother, not knowing if you’d ever get the chance to again because you were on the verge of ending it all. 11 years old... wanting to end it... you weren’t sure what was wrong with you. You just woke up every day hating yourself, woke up everyday wondering what life would be like for your family had you not been born.

Your older sister didn’t know how to help.. and your little brother was sure he was going to lose his sister.

You believed you were a by-product of a bad relationship. So your self-hatred started young. Watching your parents argue everyday- watching your mom cry because your dad kicked all of you out on Christmas Eve and you had to stay with your grandparents... watching the ugly divorce and how he became an alcoholic and she became emotionally unavailable.. even having to talk to the cops because your dad left bruises on your legs, from beating you because you were calling out for him due to being afraid to sleep in your own room when you usually sleep in his...

But he had a lady friend over that night....

The meds the psychiatrist put you on gave you chest pains... you went from using a pair scissors to hurt yourself to watching YouTube videos on how to get a blade out of a shaving razor. You skipped meals just to be a little skinnier like everyone else in your family.

You wrote notes.. you wore black sweatshirts, even in the prime of summer, to cover your arms when you ran out of space on your thighs and ankles and hips. You were a mess and no one came close to understanding. You don’t know how or why you turned out this way.

You felt like your mom hated you, you felt like your dad wasn’t your dad, like he was just there... you were stuck in a place where you felt like you didn’t belong and it made your heart skip beats. It had you crying almost every night.

And everyday you struggled. Waiting for the day that you snap and off yourself.

————-

“Y/N! Y/N!,” you felt your sister, Savannah, nudge you in your rib cage, “Uncle Buck was talking to you, snap out of it,”

You felt everyone hug you and it felt unfamiliar. You felt out of place. All these bright green trees looked fake- the air was too clean- the water in the cups too pure.

You craved to be surrounded by drugged, dancing bodies, feeling the beat of the music vibrating every single nerve in your body. You wanted to feel like you were on the edge of death just to feel alive. You wanted to be surrounded by guys and girls who gave you the slightest bit of attention and took you home. You wanted to feel loved even if it were for a few hours out of the night.

You didn’t want to be here- you wanted to feel the burn of alcohol run down your throat. You wanted to see auras around everyone as you blinked. You wanted to hide in the bathroom and stumble against the walls, laughing as you struggled to get your pants down to pee. You wanted to numb every single thought, you wanted to get so blacked out you couldn’t remember anything that ha-

“Y/N, lets go unpack,” Natasha’s hand grasped around yours and you let her drag you to one of the resort rooms. Your bag tight around your shoulder, you looked around the room and hated to be in it. It was too bright, too colorful... you wanted to be in a dark room under a guy as he choked you out and you felt him deep in your stomach. You wanted to be in a dark room, feeling a someone’s lips on you, replicating what you expect love to be like.

Everything was too fucking bright... too bright compared to the dark rooms you’d be in at night, intoxicated, crying, while getting your brains fucked out because you just wanted to feel affection... even if it was fake.

“How have you been feeling?” She sits on the bed as you stand at the door, frowning at everything in the room, “You can be honest with me- I won’t tell Sam. I know it’s hard not having anyone to talk to-,”

“Is there a town close by?,” you snap your eyes towards her. It might be a dumb question but you zoned out the whole three hour ride here.

“Ugh yeah, about 20 minutes out, why?”

“C-can you get me? S-something? I- I need to... I just need to ebb the feelings away,”

“I want to help you, b-but I can’t do that for you,” she knew what you meant but no way in hell would she advocate for you continuing to tear yourself down.

“So why lie and say I can be honest if you can’t give me the one thing I need?!,” you felt the walls closing in. You focused too much on one thing and you found yourself stumbling.

“Y/N, it’s okay, I’m here, calm down, calm down,”

“Get out!!,” you felt your hands shaking, you had no control over anything, “I want to be alone! Get the fuck out!,”

“I can’t leave you alone like this!,”

You take your bag and storm off to the bathroom to lock the door. You wasted no time in digging in the bag for the sock with the little baggy of pills, popping three in your mouth and swallowing them dry. You don’t remember what kind of drug it was... you were just hoping it made you feel good.

—————

You were on autopilot. You forgot how to walk but your muscle memory helped propel you to the dining hall and there they had a sermon about trusting life’s forces and welcoming traumas to push through triggering times. You felt like it was a bunch of bull crap but you were interested because you were high off your ass.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,”

Your dad eyed you closely but worried less when he actually saw you head to the bathroom.

You paced the bathroom until a girl walked in and eyed you closely.

“Your family drag you here too?,” she eyed you up and down. She knew your behavior all too well. You were on the verge of a withdrawal break down.

“You from around here?,” you wanted to get out of here. You wanted to have fun, you wanted to get hammered.

“Yeah why?,”

“Know any parties? Like- with tons of alcohol a-and stuff? I can’t sit around here and listen to this circle of life bullshit! I. Need. Sweat and hookups and to not remember anything,” you rambled and rambled until the girl calmed you down.

“Dude, chill out,” she placed her hands on your shoulder and shook you to calm you down, “Meet me by the ugly ass evergreen tree by the entrance- midnight. I’m about to lose my cool in this place too,”

She could really be a murderer, you don’t know this girl, nor a name, nothing. But it was worth a try. Not like you’d end up being best friends.

—————

It was easy. Savannah was out cold after the dinner- she loved to eat but, it never stuck. You wish you were like that but no... it stuck everywhere, it always did.

Your dad did his last check on you at 10 so it was easy to leave. The girl waited for you in her little Prius and you went about your way.

“I’m Eve by the way,”

“Y/N,”

You didn’t want to converse. You wanted chemicals coursing through your veins to shut off every single thought, every voice, every vision in your head.

“So what’s your story? You know this resort- It’s supposed to be some pseudoscience rehab,”

“Listen, Eve,” you sighed, “I’m not one for talking, now, get some alcohol in me and then you can get in my head, hell maybe even my pants, but until then, I don’t like to talk,”

“My parents found me with a needle in my arm,” she admitted, you cursed under your breath and realized she was gonna ramble anyway. But maybe this was good for her, someone her age, someone she could relate to, “It was laced but... God it was something great and I... I never wanted it to end,” she talked as if it was a dream.

“They told me I flatlined a couple times- I couldn’t tell though but... maybe I did because I felt like I was in heaven,”

She kept talking about her experiences until you pulled up to a house with a bunch of cars out front, you didn’t even wait for her to fully stop the car before jumping out and running inside.

You saw a bunch of tangled, kissing bodies, slumped, passed out bodies, people candy flipping, people snorting lines. You weren’t sure which poison to pick.

You walked up to a girl passing small baggies around, “What’s this?,”

“Its a new street drug called angel wings, wanna try it?,”

“Will it make me feel better than lsd?,”

“Way better, dude,”

“How much can 50 bucks buy?,”

“2 baggies. Five pills come in each,”

You slapped the fifty in her hands and snatched two from her, damn near ripping one of the baggies open, to pop a single periwinkle pill in your mouth and snatching someone’s cup to swallow it down. You spotted Eve looking around for you and rushed over to her, grabbing her hand.

“Wanna dance?,”

“Did you take something already?,”

“Yeah man, you wanted to talk? I’m drugged up enough to talk,”

————

Not much talking happened. You felt yourself crying until she held your face to wipe the tears away and you found yourself in her lap, kissing her with all your might.

“Y/N you don’t want to slow down? We don’t have to do this,”

You took almost a whole baggy of angel wings and felt like you were flying, every single touch she placed on your body made the hairs on your skin stand up.

“Wanna forget, everything,” you slurred, “y-you don’t have to because... someone else will but... I trust you- to take care of me,”

Eve felt her heart swell at your words. She squeezed your thighs in her hands. Your skin was soft just like her ex’s. The one Eve lost due to her addiction driving her away. You gave her a sense of familiarity, so she kissed you back with just as much urgency. Eve had her own drug of choice running through her own bloodstream and every time you touched her had her body vibrating with tingles. She flipped you over and removed any piece of clothing that got in her way.

“Love me...,” you pleaded, your eyes found hers in the dark room. The dark room you’ve been craving just so no one could see you, they can feel you and maybe see your silhouette but the can’t see... you. You felt tears come to your eyes and you were thankful she couldn’t really see them.

“Even though it’s fake.. just... just love me how you would love someone else,”

Teeth clashed, toes curled, muscles tensed, backs arched, it was invigorating. It might have been the drugs, it might have been the fact that Eve seemed to know you like her favorite song. The both of your fingers were soaked and sticky. Skin bruised with love bites and dented with nail impressions. Throats raw from moaning and begging.

You were close and once you hit the big O, you understood the meaning behind the drug name. You heard the beating of wings and saw the bright light. You were an angel ascending and the gates of heaven opened for you just as you let out that final scream of Eve’s name. Eve... first of God’s creation.

You felt her lips on your cheek as she came with you, she held you tight and you stared up at the ceiling, letting your body tremors calm as your mind shut down with the rest of you.

—————

Eve sobered up but you made sure to drink half a bottle of cheap scotch before heading back to face the wrath of your dad.

You saw the big ugly evergreen and grumbled to yourself. Eve held your hand the whole drive and you cringed at any contact. You felt bad that you felt repulsed by her touch but you were too sober for any interaction of the sort.

She parked the car and kissed your cheek, you let her, before getting out and mumbling a thank you and goodbye and heading back in the direction of your room. You slightly stumbled and didn’t notice everyone waiting for you outside. You sniffled and felt your nose hurt, you don’t even remember snorting anything. Don’t remember what pill you popped, what drug you sniffed or what drink you took to the head and that’s how you liked it.

“Where the hell have you been?,”

Your dad’s voice was muffled and all you could do was flutter your eyes at him.

“You’re drugged up right now aren’t you?!”

You simply walked around him in what felt like slow motion, you ignored everyone eyeing you like a helpless puppy and went in the resort room to go to the bathroom.

“Don’t walk away from me, Y/N! What is it going to take for you to get better?! To stop this shit?! You’re killing yourself and don’t even realize it!,”

“Oh I realize it,” you crawl in the bathtub and just sit there. You don’t turn on any water, you just sit there

“I just don’t care enough”

——————

You woke up to a splitting headache, still lying in the tub. You groan as you pick yourself up and head out to the room to see Savannah sitting at the foot of the bed, waiting for you to sober up.

“Why can’t you be normal?,” her eyes were red like she’d been crying, Keith was out cold, he fell asleep waiting for you to wake up, “You’re putting dad through so much. You’re traumatizing Keith. Get a fucking grip and sober up!,” she gritted through her teeth.

“I didn’t ask to be this way. I didn’t ask to be born, Savannah. I’m sorry I’m not perfect and pretty and popular like you or a kid genius like Keith. I’m sorry I’m a junkie with no future. You were there when I was in therapy. You were there when they diagnosed me with an anxiety disorder a-and bipolar disorder and an addictive personality... you were there... I didn’t ask to be this way. Want me to be normal? Well rewire everything in my fucking head to do it,”

She wiped her face and shook her head, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you,”

“Well don’t. If I’m not worried you shouldn’t be,” you undress and wrap yourself in a towel for a shower, “I’m too far gone for worrying,”

—————

The next day there were multiple families at one of the sermon meeting thingies and it just so happened to be set up like a fucking AA meeting.

“I’m not doing this bullshit,” It was your turn to speak and you scoff, getting ready to get up and leave until Sav stopped you. You heard everyone else’s story and it didn’t inspire you to get better, it didn't move you. You didn’t give a shit about any of this.

“Do this for me... for Keith,”

You saw Keith practically pleading you and you sat back down to introduce yourself.

“I’m Y/N,”

“Welcome, Y/N,” everyone said around the room.

“I’m only here because I was forced to,” You laugh to yourself, “I don’t believe I can get better, I mean I haven’t been anyway. I’ve been faking my drug tests to pass, I’m still using, still drinking,”

You could feel Sam burning holes in the side of your head at your admission.

“Last night I snuck out and got so high I felt like I was flying,” you sighed happily, “I don’t remember when I started using but I uh- it might have been when I was trading my anxiety meds for stronger pills like ecstasy then I jumped to lsd just to run away from my fucked up reality,”

You catch Tony’s eyes, then Steve then Nat and Wanda and Bucky and so on and they all looked at you with fucking pity, it made you sick.

“I don’t believe in this shit okay? I don’t believe in praying away all these fucking chemical imbalances in my head!,” you felt your stomach churn and you felt your eyes sting, “I think I’m okay! I’m fine!,” you yelled, you were angry now, you hated being forced to talk about it.

“I’m doing a lot better with drugs and alcohol than I am without,” you were really trying to convince yourself, you weren’t fooling anyone, “When I’m high I experience the highest of highs! I- I can stay up for days and not need a wink of sleep,” You animated your gestures and looked around in hopes someone would understand.

“I can finally eat without throwing it back up because then I don’t hate myself so fucking much!,” You pound your thighs and felt the shakes come back, “I can finally eat- I can finally give myself the basic things a human needs without hating myself for it” you felt tears pool in your eyes and you hated yourself for crying but you blamed it on the 24 hours of sobriety.

“When I’m high, I don’t feel the extreme lows of my disorders. I finally break out of my shell and meet new people. I talk! I- I meet guys and they show me affection even if it’s for an hour or two and I finally feel loved in my life!,”

You felt Savannah rest her hand on your arm until you jerk away.

“When I’m high- I’m waaaay up and and... and I’m happy! I don’t feel depressed I don’t feel anxious. Being high or drunk shuts up that stupid voice in my head and no one gets it! I am better inebriated! Why can’t you see that!!,” you look to Sam for an answer and all you can see is tears in his eyes.

“And if I die? Hell! It’d be best for everyone! You wouldn’t have to worry anymore! You w-wouldn’t have to waste money on doctors visits just for me to pour someone else’s piss in a fucking cup! No suicide watch! No more not trusting me. No more me faking to be happy.. if this kills me?? Everyone would get what they wanted,”

“What do you think everyone wants, Y/N?,” the woman running the session finally speaks up. Everyone around the room seemed worried for you. You truly didn’t understand why.

You look to Savannah and shake your head.

“Peace,” you shrug and angrily wipe your eyes,

“A normal life”

—————

Once you got back to the room you scream, you screamed so loud and cried and pulled at your roots, you saw yourself in the mirror and threw it off the wall just so you wouldn’t have to look at yourself

“Be normal!,” you screamed at yourself. You felt like a noose was around your neck and the ground beneath you opened up leaving you hanging, feet kicking, desperate for air.

“Why can’t I b-be norm-mal?,” you choked on your words and clawed at your throat. Everything was upside down and spinning.

You didn’t hear the door open, you didn’t know anyone was in the room until your dad picked you up and dragged you outside.

The cool air rushed its way into your nasal passages and your chest opened up with a gasp. You couldn’t see your dad because of the tears, you could barely hear him.

“N-norm-mal... I wanna be normal,” You kept repeating over and over until your body gave out succumbed to your meltdown. Sam hugged your body and rocked you back and forth, despite people watching from their own rooms or passing by.

“We’re gonna get you help,”

“I don’t want he-help. I want it to end! I want black out from all the shit I take a-and not wake up!,”

Sam didn’t know what to do. He knows the trauma he caused you was a part of the reason you’re in this spot and mindset.

“I ruin everything I touch... I... I just..,” out of all the things you could have become- you had to become an addict. At first you didn’t want to acknowledge it because you were functioning just fine, that is until you couldn’t wake up and go about your day without it, you couldn’t do basic daily tasks without popping a perc here and there, until you couldn’t go to sleep without taking something, “I want it to stop but then- then again I don’t b-because I love it- it’s disgusting,”

“It’s going to be okay,”

“But it’s not. Nothing is okay a-and you need to get comfortable with the idea of this killing me because- because it’s going to happen,”

———

“I don’t think drinking is going to help, Sam”

Tony took the cup from Sam and he lost it, “I’m gonna lose my daughter and it’s all my fault,”

Tony didn’t know how to talk about this kind of thing- what can be said?

“It’s no one’s fault, Sam. Life doesn’t always hand us the best cards,”

Sam sniffled and shook his head, lost, frustrated, angry, upset, “What can I do? I’m losing hope,”

“I don’t think you’re going to like my answer but it seems to be her best option,”

Sam looked hopeful- anything will do as long as it gave you a chance to get clean and stay alive

“What is it?,”

———

“Inpatient rehab?!,”

He dropped the bombshell when you all got back home. Dropped it right in front of everyone- maybe he expected you to welcome the idea with open arms but you know what goes on behind those closed doors.

“You’re fucking kidding!,” you had dark circles under your eyes and your lips were dry- your dad had literally kept you on lock down the remainder of the trip, you didn’t even have in person contact with Eve but you did however end up with her number to hit her up whenever.

“You admitted you had a problem, honey. This could be good for you,” Bucky spoke up and you scoffed loudly.

“I’m not going!,” You tugged on the sleeves of your maroon sweater and paced the room, “They’re just going to lock me in a room to the point where I have cold sweats and screaming for more morphine to make the pain, itches and delusions stop!,”

Nat tried to take your hand in hers but you slapped her hand away.

“Y/N!,” Keith stomped his foot and you stared at his small stature. Tears glistening in his eyes, bottom lip quivering, “You need help!! Stop it!,”

You scowled and turned away from your baby brother. Your body trembled as you tried to keep the sobs in.

“When do I go?,”

You weren’t prepared for the answer, but you should have expected it yet your stomach still dropped.

“They’ll be here to pick you up in an hour,”

—————

“Nothing is real,” you mumbled to yourself as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Your face was dull, eyes boring and empty, hair thinning, appetite decreasing. You’d think being here for 60 days so far would do you some good but no...

You barely slept. The first 30 days you cried and screamed to be saved but now you barely even speak. You sat back on your bed just to turn to the wall.

“Wilson- you have visitors,” the nurse came into your room and saw you sitting facing the wall. You were now eligible to have visitors and spend time with family and friends.

“Don’t want visitors,” you cleared your throat and stared at the pale yellow paint on the wall, judging the job of the painters for leaving so many air bubbles in the paint.

“This could do you some good,” your nurse shuts the door behind her and sits with you on your bed, “Your family loves and misses you. Seeing them could motivate you to finish this strong,”

That made you laugh, genuinely. Your body shook with an animated belly laugh.

“They fucking locked me away in here,” you frowned, feeling sick to your stomach, “They let those people drag me away and lock me in here. Fuck their love, it’s not real!,”

She sighed and nodded knowing nothing she said would change how you feel. She’s seen it plenty of times before. She’s seen people recover completely yet still resent their families and loved ones for sending them here.

“I’m always able to contact them if you ever change your mind,”

“Fat chance,”

——

The nurse walked to the family area to see the hopeful faces of your family and loved ones. They hadn’t seen you in 60 something days.

“I’m sorry but Y/N isn’t feeling well enough to have visitors,” the nurse plays with her watch band and hates to see the way everyone’s faces drops.

“I want to see my sister!,” Keith tugged on Sam.

“What do you mean she’s not feeling well? She should be feeling at least a little fine in this stage right?,”

She sighs and shakes her head, “The stages in recovery are subjective. Chemical dependency is a hard thing to battle- some days she’s fine and some days like today she’s angry at everything and everyone. As much as I would like for her to see everyone, we can not force her,”

Steve stands up and sets a hand on Sam’s shoulder, “On a day, that she’s feeling better, will you call us?,”

“Of course,”

———

“I know she’s still angry,” Sam sent Savannah and Keith to their rooms while he stayed up with everyone else, “She’s my daughter, I know how she is. She holds grudges a-and she’s still upset,”

“Maybe, but she’ll see this was something she needed,” Bruce tried to make things better but nothing would be better until you were.

“How did things get this bad?,” he slammed his glass on the table and startled everyone.

“I know it’s hard right now but just- just calm down, Sam,” Bucky worried about his friend. He could only imagine how much he was losing his mind and hope on the inside.

“Calm down?,” Sam asked incredulously, “Calm the fuck down?! How can I calm down when I don’t even know if I’m going to see my daughter again, man?,” the legs of the chair screeched against the floor as he stood up in a rush.

Wanda rested a hand on his arm to try and soothe him but he wasn’t having it, “We get it, Sam. We know you’re hurting-,”

“But you don’t!,” he shouted, “You weren’t there when I got a phone call at work from her school nurse saying she had cuts all on the inside of her thigh! You didn’t see it! It looked like fucking grid paper and crosshatching! You weren’t there when I had to sit there in therapy and listen to the way she talks about herself and her life and me- my daughter hates herself and genuinely thinks I hate her and she believes everything that goes wrong is her fault- you didn’t hear the way she talked about herself!,”

For longest time Sam kept quiet about all of this, just wanting to push through it until it got better but it was time he faced the music.

“You weren’t there when she screamed at me, telling me she wished she was never born and I just stood there calling her ungrateful, selfish and dramatic! I didn’t listen to her, I only paid attention to Savannah and Keith and left her feeling unloved. You weren’t there when I caught her sneaking out and she was drunk, you weren’t there when I ignored everything the psychiatrist said about her having an addictive personality and excused all the signs she started to display until I fucking found her blacked out with throw up all over her!,”

He realized he couldn’t just pin it all on you. You were suffering and he hated himself for not realizing it until he was.

No one knew what to say- they were only outsiders, sure they were family but they didn’t get an inside scoop until a few months ago when they got a phone call from Sam saying you were in the hospital. They still didn’t know how to handle it. They could fight bad guys and fucking aliens all day but addiction of a loved one? That was new and left them stumped.

“But damn you were there when she talked about being okay with it if this just killed her. No one wants to hear a loved one say that- especially their child!,” he ran a hand over his face to get rid of the tears, he felt like he didn’t have a right to cry, “I did a lot of wrong as her father and I didn’t even think how my shitty actions contributed to where she is now. Now my daughter could be dying while trying to recover,”

Tony stood up and pulled Sam in a hug, grateful that Sam was seeing everything from a different perspective than his own. He was grateful that Sam was a father trying to right his wrongs and do better.

“It’s not too late,”

————

Your nurse came a few times a week letting you know that you had visitors but you turned them away each time.

The cold sweats happened less, you ate more, your skin started to warm up again and you could finally sleep throughout the night but you still wouldn’t see them. It’d probably bring back a ton of memories that would trigger you to relapse.

You earned yourself time out of the facility but only with supervision. Your nurse, Brielle, accompanied you to trips to the park and lunches.

“Y/N?,”

You looked in the direction of the voice and saw Savannah smiling at seeing you but fear just filled you.

She looked different, she cut her hair and dyed it, her make up was softer and her style was more... indie?

“I’ve missed you so much,” she moved in for a hug but you moved away only to see her smile drop, “Y/N, don’t do that. I’m your sister,”

“I’m recovering from substance abuse not amnesia,” You scowled. You turned to Brielle and asked her to go.

“Why can’t you just be normal?,”

Savannah’s voice echoed in your head and you felt a band around your head tightening yet again, it was your body’s reaction to let you know that you need to get out of the situation or else you’d fall subject to a mental break.

“Brielle, we gotta go,” You scooted out of the booth, past Savannah and tugged Brielle out of the restaurant- forgetting that you were even ordering.

“Y/N please! Talk to me! Talk to Keith, Dad! We miss you,”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!!,” you covered your ears and dropped down against the car, feeling dizzy, feeling every swirl around you as you tried to grasp onto reality.

“Grow through what you go through, grow through what you go through, grow through what you go through,”

You repeated the mantra over and over again. It’s a mantra designed specifically for you. Every patient gets their own mantra for when they feel like they’re losing. Yours is to help you remind yourself that nothing is ever easy but that doesn’t mean give up... life and it’s struggles will always be there but that doesn’t mean stunt your growth and efforts. Grow through what you go through.

“That’s right, you’re doing great,” Brielle whispered, she looked at Savannah over her shoulder and shook her head, “I know it’s hard not seeing her but it’s in Y/N’s best interest that she be willing to see you or anyone else on her own terms,”

Savannah hated to see you crouched on the ground, shaking and mumbling to yourself. She mumbled a sorry before rushing over to her car and crying to herself as she drove home and bursting through the doors, clearly upset to everyone else.

“Dad what’s wrong with, Vanna?,”

Sam looked up to see Savannah cursing to herself, and crying. She wasn’t upset with anyone but herself.

“She looked so scared of me!,”

Sam’s stomach dropped, he didn’t even have to ask who ‘she’ was.

“You saw her?,” Sam didn’t trust his voice and there was a reason for it.

“She was out with her nurse. She looks so much better a-and she looks healthy, she’s eating again. She doesn’t look she’s dying!,”

Savannah was rambling and frustrated that she triggered you like that, “I saw her, I spoke to her but I scared her so bad she fell to the ground and covered her ears so she wouldn’t hear me talking, I- what if she relapses and it’s all my fault?,”

Sam pulled his sobbing daughter into his arms and calmed her down as best as he could, “She’s your sister, anyone in that situation would have done what you did, you miss her and that’s valid,”

It mad him feel good that you seemed to be getting better, that you looked healthy and lively. He just hoped you would be willing to see everyone soon.

------

“You have visitors today but I can send them aw-,”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” it’s been another 30 days and you figured it’s time to face the music, face everyone and maybe get the supposed closure everyone was saying you needed,

You missed her initial shock from your response but she nodded and waited for you anyway. You slipped on your cardigan and slippers, then let Brielle lead you to the visiting area.

Everyone expected to be turned away again but when they saw a second body behind Brielle, they all stood up ready to greet you but she held her hands up in caution

“It’s best to not overwhelm her and to let her initiate any contact,”

Sam just wanted to hug his daughter and let her know how sorry he was but he knew she was right. 

You hated the way you felt their eyes burning into you, you couldn't bear to look at them, not yet, so your eyes focused on getting your foot directly in the center of each tile on floor. Brielle sat you down across from them and told you she’d be right outside if you needed anything.

Then there you all were. Face to face.

“It’s been so long,” Keith whimpered, “I missed you so much,”

You played with a stray string in your cardigan and sighed.

“It’s been a long four months, sweetie. I missed you so much,” Sam just wanted you to look at him. Your hair was getting thick again, you skin shone under the sun, your lips were moisturized with color instead of grey and chapped. He could see you were doing better

“Four months, 17 days, 3 hours, 44 minutes and” You cut your attention to the clock on the wall, “12 seconds,” your voice was hoarse and you cursed yourself for it, “That's how long it’s really been,” you wrapped your arms around yourself as a comforting gesture.

“I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to push you to that point, baby. I should have been better,”

“Life is too short to feel sorry for ourselves,” you looked up at the ceiling light and shrugged, “This place is all about being philosophical. Don’t be sorry, be better. That’s all they fucking say,” you grit through your teeth.

“Like oh, don't feel sorry for yourself- no one forced you to drink so much, no one told you to roll up that dollar bill, no one held a gun to your head and told you to take those pretty pills with cool names that look like candy,” you smiled and laughed at yourself, the nervous tick you’ve developed to keep from crying.

“No one told you to be ungrateful and hate the gift of life that was given to you, so don't feel sorry for yourself, be better,” you used a mocking voice and rolled your eyes, “There’s no need to blame yourself, the common variable is me, I have to be accountable for my actions,” 

Everyone was worried about how scripted this sounded but they dubbed it down to you being a little upset about being forced here, still.

“I still should have been a better, dad,”

“We aaalll make mistakes, Sammy,” he didn’t miss that you didn’t call him dad. Everyone caught it, “But not every dad kicks their family out on Christmas eve with nowhere to go in the freezing cold,”

His heart stopped, he’s never forgiven himself for that drunken mistake. The marriage problems between him and your mom drove him to develop a drinking problem and due to his little problem, it caused him to mess up a lot of things up. 

“Why was it me? Like why did Savannah and Keith get to move past all of this and I’m the one stuck? I’m the one suffering even while recovering?”

No one could answer that.

“Why did I have to be the one to talk to the cops because you sent me back to mom with bruises on my legs, huh? I didn’t want to- I didn’t want them to go after you because you were still my dad- I still loved you after yelling at me at dinner, I still loved you after sending me back to mom early when you couldn’t stand to be around me- I still loved you when you moved away and missed big chunks in my life but you kept Sav and Keith. What did I do? Tell me, please, maybe I can fix it, maybe I can be better. I just want my dad to love me,”

“I do love you Y/N! And I’ll never forgive myself for-,

“Don't be sorry! Be better!,” you shouted over him. Angry with yourself that you began crying.

No one knew what to say. Everyone else was here for support but this was clearly a father and daughter situation.

“Did you ever love me?,”

A question a child should never have to ask their parent.

“When I got the call that your mother was in labor with you on my birthday the world stopped,” Sam sat with his elbows on his knees, looking dead at you but you still wouldn’t look at him, “You were the best gift I could have ever asked for.. ever. After we had you, I can’t tell you what went wrong because I don’t know,”

“It’s my fault,” You sobbed, “Say it! It’s my fault. Had I not been born, everyone’s life would be better!,”

You finally looked at him and everyone could see the fire in your eyes, wild and couldn’t be tamed, your trauma being the fuel.

“It’s not your fault at all. I have failed you as a father and I... I let it go on for far too long without acknowledging it and apologizing for it before it got too late,”

“If I could go back in time to make things better I would. I never wanted you to feel unloved or that life would be better without you,”

He hated to be sitting across from you, your mind dead set on him hating you. He just screwed up a lot in his life.

“I let you down so much. I love you more than you could ever know. I just fucked up a lot as your dad,”

“Y/N, sweetie, I know this is hard,” Tony chimed, “But this could be a new beginning for you both. You’re recovering and he’s trying to right his wrongs before it’s too late. It’s not going to be easy and I know everything hurts and it’s going to take time but you know what they say.. grow through what you go through,”

You didn’t have time to ask how he knew your mantra, but it made sense eventually.

“I forgave you a long time ago, dad,” you pulled your cardigan sleeves down, and used them to wipe your eyes, “I didn’t think it’d matter if I became Falcon’s candy flipping daughter or not, I just wanted to make everything stop. I- I just wanted to be numb so I didn’t feel bad about any and everything,”

Sam didn’t take into account how much you were actually battling in day to day life. He didn’t believe anything the psychiatrist was saying when you were 10, if only he did, all of this could have been avoided.

“I’m still fighting my want to just relapse in anyway I can but... I can’t bring myself to do it because I know if I do, that might be it and I don’t want it to be that way dad,” 

He reached out to grab your hands and could have sobbed when you didn’t move away

“It doesn't have to be,“

------

180 days is a long time, it might not seem like it, but it is a long ass time for someone to go without something that they believe made them better. Someone who took multiple substances at a time just to shut down their mind so they don’t remember things, so they don’t feel things.

“You gonna be ok watching Keith? We need Sav on this,”

“I got him, dad. Just be safe,”

Sam hated to admit it but he was still worried to leave you alone. He made Tony put away all of his alcohol and set up a security code so no one could get in it.

“I won’t have anyone over, I don’t know the code to the cellar. I’m not going to put Keith through that again, dad. Have a bit more trust in me,”

He watched the way your eyes twinkled and nodded before kissing your cheek and heading out with the team.

“Can we play mancala? No one else likes to play it with me,“

“Sure thing, bud. Let’s go,”

You two played mancala for multiple rounds, just for him to beat you almost every time. You two watched Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader for hours while eating shitty kraft mac and cheese before getting him ready for bed.

“Can you stay with me? So I know you’re safe,” 

“Did dad put you up to that?,“

“I just miss my big sister, Y/N,” He sat up and played with his blanket, “I almost saw you dead... you wouldn’t talk to us for forever, I just missed my big sister,” you didn’t mean to make him cry.

“Hey, hey, I’m right here buddy, I’ll stay, okay?,”

You crawled under his blanket and held him tight and he held you even tighter, not wanting you to leave. 

----

You don’t know what triggered the nightmare but you woke up in your own room, right on the floor, sweaty and panting. You never sleep walk. You felt something stick to your sweaty palm and look down to see a small plastic baggie with those pretty blue pills from the night you blacked out. 

You threw it across the room and curled up against the side of your bed whimpering your mantra to yourself.

“Would you like me to call for help?,” Friday spoke overhead.

“I'm okay,” you clenched your eyes shut and did what you could to muster up the strength to just get up and flush them. It should have been a relief to do it but you felt a pang in your chest. You should have been proud of yourself for having the strength to not break sobriety. 

“I thought you said you were gonna be okay?,” Keith’s voice scared the hell out of you, “If you were going to be okay then you wouldn’t look so upset as you flushed them,“

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Keith. Go back to bed,“

“I’m telling dad,”

“Tell him what?,” you snapped your neck to him, eyes narrowing, “What? that I’m still fucking struggling? Yeah, I’ll tell him myself, bud,”

“He’s gonna send you back,” Keith didn’t mean to scare you, he was just worried and his words weren’t coming out right.

“I’d rather shit in my hands and clap,” you threw the baggie away and walked past him to sit on your bed to just try and calm down.

“Do I need to call him,”

“No,”

“Then what needs to happen?,”

“I need you to just be quiet!,” you hated raising your voice at him, but the rambling and patronizing was not helping.

“I’m calling dad,”

--------------

It was past midnight when they were all headed back and Sam got the phone call from Keith.

“Hey, son,”

“Y/N was walking while she was asleep and then woke up with a bag of pills in her hands,”

“What? she didn’t take any did she?,” Sam’s tone had everyone turning to him with expressions of worry.

“No but she looked sad when she flushed them,”

Sam sighed happily when he heard you’d flushed them. But for you to seem sad while doing so?  that couldn’t be a good thing.

“She’s mad that I called you but you need to know, she locked herself in her room after yelling at me. I can hear her crying and talking to herself. I didn’t mean to make her mad, dad,”

Sam sighed and sat back down beside Savannah who was waiting for her dad to hang up so she could know what was happening.

“She’s going to be okay, bud. You have to understand that what she went through was not easy. She might be out of hat place but she’s fighting everyday  to continue to get better and get her mind far away from that stuff as best as she can. We have to be patient, okay?,”

You had been pacing in your room. You knew all of this would put you so many steps back with your dad and his trust. You flinched at the sound of knocking at your door and his voice.

“Sweetie, open up,” 

You didn’t want to face him right now. You didn’t want to talk about it, nothing. You didn’t need anyone scolding you as you were already scolding yourself. You hadn’t stopped beating yourself up about it.

Sam didn’t want to freak out when you didn’t reply. He didn’t want to admit that he thought the worst, “Honey, please,”

“Dad, I am fine. Get some rest,” another step back. You were doing good not shutting anyone out but the moment something goes down, you forget all your effort.

“Y/N, I am not here to be mad at you. I am here to make sure you’re okay and to let you know I am here. You just gotta let me in,”

You cursed to yourself before walking over to the door to unlock it and let him in. He didn’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug. 

“I didn’t take anything,”

“I know... even if you did- I wouldn’t be mad at you, disappointed yes, but mad? No. Relapse sometimes comes with recovery,”

You don’t know that Sam had been attending seminars for parents that have kids battling different things such as addiction. Multiple lessons were learned as well as communication pointers. 

“I didn’t mean to do that while Keith was here. I understand if you don’t trust me anymore,”

“I still trust you, Y/N. You don’t need to be beating yourself up right now. You did the right thing in flushing whatever you had, even if it did make you a little sad and made you feel like you needed it in that moment. Be proud of yourself. You took a big step forward by doing that, be proud,”

“How can I be proud when I hate myself for flushing them?,” you had to be honest. You wouldn’t be feeling this if you weren’t presented with them. It made you feel weak. You should be able to look at these things and be able to say no with no guilt.

“Because you flushed them regardless. This takes time, Y/N. I’m being patient with you now, so you have to learn to be patient with yourself. Rome wasn’t built in a day,”

“Yeah well the people who built it up weren’t highed up on something now were they?,” 

“Don’t be self-deprecating. You’re still going strong. Be proud even if you feel like there isn’t a reason to be,”

You knew he was right. Whether you were sad about flushing them, you still got the guts to do it and that’s commendable, you should be proud. You were kicking your ass when you should be happy and feel relief. You shouldn’t be feeling this weight, you shouldn’t be feeling guilty.

You’re growing through what you go through and that deserves a pat on the back.

---------------

You don’t know how you got here. You went back to school and shit came crumbling down. You were going strong but the weight of responsibility and insecurity became too much. Walking down the fucking halls everyday, comparing yourself to every girl that looked like barbie then going to the bathroom to stare at your reflection and pick yourself apart until the voices became too loud for you to handle so you went to the school plug and slapped money in his hand

“Anything will do,”

After school he came back and handed you a black plastic bag with cheap alcohol in it. You hid in an empty class room and barely drank a quarter of the bottle before you felt sick, like your body was rejecting what you were trying to force down into it. 

Your fingers moved faster than your mind, grabbing for your phone and dialing away.

“Hello?,”

You sniffled and held the bottle close to your chest, “Uncle Tony? I- I...,” you hiccuped and hugged the bottle close to your chest, “Uncle Tony, I messed up,”

-----

He was there for you in no time. He knew you wouldn’t want to talk about it but he knew your dad would have to find out about this. 

“I don’t wanna go back. I’m done growing through what I grow through, its a crock of shit,”  you stared out the window, eyes heavy.

“I know the fight becomes annoying,” Tony sighed, “But from the looks of it, your body has already made a decision for you,” 

He was right, a few sips and your body was angry with you. You should be thankful because it didn’t always work like that with other people who were fighting this like you. Others bodies often welcomed such a thing back easily, the bodies of some couldn’t even continue the fight without it before giving out.

“Plus you let someone know, as soon as it happened. Everyone can see your efforts. You may be tired of growing through it but it’s become natural for you and you don’t even realize it, though I can’t blame you. I was the same way,”

He sprinkled that last bit in there like it was a dash of parsley to complete a dish and it had your neck snapping to look at him. “Excuse me?,”

He chuckled and raised his eyebrows all while mumbling “well,” he pulled to a stop light and looked over at you, “I wasn’t always the polished hero I am now,”

He patted your leg in a hopeful manner, “In my days of college, getting drugs was as easy as buying cola from the corner store. Trying to run a company that my dad didn’t really want me to have in the first place to staying up all day everyday to make it through college was bound to get me in some trouble,” the light turned green and he lightly put his foot on the gas to continue the peaceful rid home, “I’d snort some coke to keep me away and focus long enough to study, I thought it was normal because the other students were doing it, until it wasn’t about trying to focus on school anymore. It was about  how high I could get and how good I could feel to the point I couldn’t walk out my dorm in the morning for class without rubbing a little on my gums or cutting up a quick line,”

“How’d you kick it?,” You never would have thought he batted such a thing, he changed for the better and picked himself up.

“The nose bleeds. The doctor told me if I didn’t stop I wouldn’t see the day I graduated. Told me I’d never see the day where I became the man I deserved as a role model as a kid. I wanted to be better than him. In a moment of weakness, my recovery was fueled by spite,” 

“I guess everyone’s come-to-Jesus meeting is a bit different,” you give a small smile and shrug, “Mine was when Keith practically slapped some sense into me. He’s a kid, who wants their little sibling walking around knowing their older sibling is a fucking fiend?,” you give a harsh scoff and roll your eyes as you feel tears coming, “He didn’t deserve to see me like that, that night- in and out of consciousness, watching them pump me full of coal and other shit to keep me alive, that screwed up his head and he’s barely hit puberty yet,”

Tony could almost hear the tears in your voice, you had your head turned to look out the window, he didn’t need to see your face to know.

“He’s your ticket out of the dark room,”

-----

Your dad didn’t put you back in the rehabilitation center because you owned up to knowing you messed up, because you called someone for help, knowing the slight possibility that you might have gotten a few people upset.

It was all trial and error, a constant fight, day and night even in your moments of shut eye. 

It was a learning experience for Sam, it taught him how to be a better dad, taught him that although he can’t go back and change things, he still has now to break habits and form healthy ones and make them the foundation of a healthy relationship between father and child.

He was in your corner and that helped keep your head above water.

Addiction and mental illness were never cut and dry. There’d always be doubts and close calls of near relapse but it was a fight you’d be willing to put up with 24/7. 

You never wanted to be back in that dark room of addiction. Driving yourself insane trying to find the next fix so you feel “normal”- but there was nothing normal about forcing yourself to be numb, there was nothing normal about denying you need help. Nothing normal whatsoever about forcing chemicals that could kill you into your body just to be happy. 

This, this right here was normal. Feeling pain, fighting, crying, trials, everything that you’re feeling now. Feeling is normal, even if it hurts sometimes.

You’d never stop growing through what you go through, but the fight.. that effort you put in.. it’ll always be worth it.

---------------------

this took so long to write because I was never satisfied with it. I kept editing and erasing and adding more. And here is the finished product. It doesn’t have to resonate with you but here it is. Thank you for the love and support you guys always gift me.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED>

tags: @vozit @blackreaders-assemble @retroxvailles @champangebucky @sambucky8 @princess-toshii @sebbyslut @titty-teetee @ilovefanfic86 @valkyriesnymph @dumbchick @mbaku-babygirl​ @veryhellshdia @persephones24 @here-for-your-bullshit @mokacoconut @spideys-wife @xye-weirdo @chonisberonica @disaster-rose @micki-smiles @valentinevirgo @yournonlocalpoc​ @warmchick​ @hisxblackxqueen​

[orange-waterfalls]

All At Once

Illinois x male!reader

@just-bts-trash-00 ty for the request + prompt!

A/N: OK SO i was looking through my docs and found this like halfway done??? And it's pretty much what was asked??? So I used it and edited a shit ton out so it wouldn't be too long but it's still pretty fuckin long. Rated T for cursing and a bit of blood and reference to sex in like,,, 1 sentence. This is probably more angst than fluff but,,, I did my best. I'm ngl I might write a part 2 if I really feel like it but no promises.

Asks and submissions are open!

Word Count: 2.8k

--

You had fallen asleep in a cave Illinois had managed to trap you two in, and you were being rescued by the time you woke up. Some guys in the town over got worried and started looking for you. They heard you and Illinois down there, and got some tools to get you two out. They had made a hole in the rock and threw some rope down to pull you up. Illinois grabbed onto the rope and held his arm out to you. You crossed your arms. He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"It'll be quicker if you just hold on to me instead of us going one at a time," he explained. You didn't move, wanting to be petty, but you saw the logic and decided it was smart. You walked over and held onto him and the rope as you were pulled up.

"This is nice, don't you think?" He purred. You scoffed. As soon as you two were on solid ground, you pushed away from him.

"Aw, come on…" he chuckled, "you're not still mad, are you?" You ignored him. A woman walked up to you. She was holding a notepad and a pencil.

"Hello there! I'm--" she began.

"I don't talk to press," you monotoned. Since you and Illinois go on a heck of a lot of adventures, and find a lot of treasure, you started to become a bit famous. You weren't having any of it. You headed over your car. You got in the driver's side and waited for Illinois.

After about 10 minutes of Illinois not being there, you looked back.

There the bastard was, flirting with a reporter who had tried to talk to you. Her notepad was away, so you knew it wasn't professional. You cursed and threw the car door open. You walked up to them, and they didn't seem to notice. They were too busy making flirty comments and innuendos. You rolled your eyes.

"Hey, Illinois, you mind if we head back? I'd like to sleep in a bed after being trapped underground for 12 hours," you growled.

"12 hours? It wasn't that long, you'll be fine," he brushed you off and kept talking to the reporter. Your hand twitched and you curled it into a fist. You pulled him away from her.

"Illinois get in the goddamn car right fucking now or I'm leaving without you," you warned. He raised an eyebrow at you. You glared back at him. He snorted, but stayed there with you. He acted like a dick, but deep down he did care about your feelings.

"Sorry, ma'am. Adventure calls," he saluted a goodbye to her and walked with you to the car. You got back into the driver's seat and he got in the passengers'. You started the car and began driving. Illinois sighed.

"So, what's your issue?" He asked.

"You are my issue!" You snapped. He looked offended. "You got us trapped in a cave for 12 hours!"

"Ok, I told you it wasn't that long. And you're still on that?"

"Yes, I'm still on that! You were careless, arrogant-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know! You know, my other partners never-"

"I am not your other partners and if you keep comparing me to them I will beat your fucking ass!" You threatened. You hated that he always criticized you by saying you weren't like his other partners. You'd just never really said anything about it until then. He frowned at you.

"Does it… bother you when I do that?" He asked. You grunted in affirmation. He nodded. "I'll… try not to…" he said. Illinois wasn't an apologizing type of guy. He's a "I won't admit I'm wrong but I'll try to do better" type of guy. It was anger-inducing at times, but he did try to do better, so you couldn't really be mad.

"Thank you," you sighed.

"Y'know you're-"

"Don't."

"What, I'm-"

"Don't! Don't say anything! Don't talk for the rest of this car ride, got it?" You demanded. He made a gesture that he was zipping his lips. You focused on the road. You heard writing and turned to Illinois. He was scribbling words down on a napkin he'd found. He handed to you. You held it in your hand until you got to a stoplight and then read it. It said "You're cute when you're mad~".

You groaned and threw it back at him. He started laughing and you pulled into the inn's parking lot soon after. You parked the car and got out, slamming the door shut.

"Whoa, you trying to get a new car?" He scoffed. You turned to him, looking annoyed. "Yeah. What I thought," he smirked and walked through the door. You followed after him, still feeling pissy. You flopped face down onto your bed. Illinois said something to you, but you didn't hear it as your vision went black and you fell asleep.

--

You woke to the sound of water running in the bathroom. Illinois is taking a shower.

"You were starting to stink," you mumbled, not nearly loud enough for him to hear. You laid there, not wanting to move, for the next 10 minutes.

The water stopped and you raised your eyebrows.

"Done already?" You slurred, still not fully awake.

"Hm?" He called.

"I said, 'Done already'?" You repeated. Illinois walked out of the bathroom wearing a towel. Only a towel. Your face flushed and you turned your head.

"I was in there before you woke up," he chuckled. He saw your head move a bit, and inferred that you'd turned away. He put clothes on and walked around your bed to where you were facing and gently flicked you in the forehead. You scrunched up your nose and whined as he laughed.

"Don't be a baby," he teased. You flipped yourself into your back and sat up.

"Guess it's my turn," you murmured. He grabbed your shoulder.

"Actually, there's not really a point for that," he informed you. You knitted your eyebrows together.

"Why?"

"We're going on another adventure, pal!"

"Illy…" You groaned and fell back onto the bed. He jumped in next to you.

"I promise we won't get trapped underground." You looked over at him.

"Probably."

You kept looking.

"Maybe."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Possibly…"

"Illinois, I'm tired," you whined. He snorted.

"I'm not sure how, you just slept for 10 hours." He said. You blinked at him. Ten hours? Guess you really were tired.

"Can't we just stay in today?"

"C'mon, man! Just one adventure and then you can stay in for a whole week!"

"Why does it have to be now?"

"It just does, okay?" You squinted at him, suspicious.

"Why did you take a shower?" He scratched his head.

"Well, I heard about this cave--"

"Of course."

"And we need a map to get to it. But, uh, the only person with a map is a woman who's leaving town tomorrow…"

"Illinois!"

"I know, I know!"

"What are you gonna do? Sleep with her?" You mocked. Illinois stayed quiet.

"Illinois! You slut!" You yelled.

"Hey, now, you can't call me things like that… at least not when I'm wearin' clothes…"

"I hate you."

"Please, Y/N!" He pleaded. You stared at him. As much as he was a bastard, you loved him and couldn't say no.

"Fine…"

"Alright, let's go," He got up and walked out the door. You followed, much less happy about it, and got into your car.

--

You drove to the cave, having gotten the map from the woman. Illinois' seduction didn't work on the woman. The two people did, however, start talking about adventure and traveling and got along over that. He asked her about the map and she said he could have it as long as he promised to give it back to her. He did, and you headed out.

You parked to the side of the forest where you were supposed to go through, and got out of the car. You took the mat and held it in front of you looking at the thick forest ahead. Illinois walked up next to you his hands on his hips. He turned to you.

"You ready?" He asked.

"As I'll ever be," you answered. He smirked and put his arm around your shoulder as you began your walk.

You two could follow a trail in the woods at first, but it faded off at some point. You tried your best to follow the map by going straight, but you ended up turning a couple times when there was a tree or something in your way. After half an hour of searching, you finally ended up at the cave that had a plaque on the side of it. He read the foreign writing aloud. You didn't recognize it.

"What does that mean?"

"No idea. I'm sure it doesn't matter," he waltzed into the cave without a care in the world. "Come on." He urged you. You sighed, folding the map and putting it in your satchel. You followed Illinois through the dark cave. You were in charge of the map, the flashlight, and Illinois. You were not going to get trapped underground again.

Every time you got to a puzzle of some sort, Illinois passed through effortlessly, while you lagged behind, fearing for your life. He teased you for it every time.

There was a small glass box in the center of the floor with a door on the other side. Illinois tried to push the door open, but it wouldn't budge. He walked back in front of the box, standing beside you.

"What should we do, partner?" He asked. You, being the dumbass you are, took your knife and tapped the box with it. The ground sank and a bunch of holes appeared in the walls. The door opened.

Illinois hauled ass towards the door, leaving you to panic in place. By the time he was through the door, you were only halfway there. Arrows began shooting through the holes in the walls. Illinois kept waving his hand, telling you to speed up.

"Come on! Come on!" He yelled. You sprinted towards him. An arrow cut your thigh and you squeezed your eyes shut as you threw yourself at the adventurer. He put his arms out in surprise as you wrapped yours around his chest.

"Well now, I know I'm hot, but you could ask before you--" his comment was cut off by you letting out a small groan. He furrowed his eyebrows. He looked down your body and saw your bleeding thigh. He lifted you off of his body and sat you on the floor. He reached in your bag and pulled out bandages and rubbing alcohol. He cleaned your wound as you bit your hand, drawing a bit of blood in the process. He bandaged you up and patted your shoulder.

"Get up, bud. You'll live," he said and started walking. He wanted you to rest for a bit, but he knew it wasn't safe in the cave. The best thing to do was to just finish the adventure so you could get back to the inn. You gritted your teeth and stood up, limping after Illinois.

While walking, you dug your fingernails into your arm to distract from the pain in your leg. You were much slower than Illinois, with his long, confident strides, so he slowed down for you. You eventually ended up outdoors again. There were necklaces with all kinds of precious jewels on it sitting on rocks, all in a circle.

"Which one are we supposed to pick?" You asked, your voice cracking from the pain. Illinois glances at you worriedly before walking forward.

"Well, I don't know. Let's ask the plaques," he leaned down in front of a rock. A golden plaque was on it, describing the necklace. Each one was supposed to be blessed. He read the plaque and wasn't very interested. He moved onto the next one. He still wasn't very interested. He went around to each of the jewels and found nothing interesting to him. Just when he was about to shove all of them into his bag and be done with it, he found a strange one. A necklace with a golden chain hanging on a branch of a tree. He lifted his eyebrow and walked up to it. There was a plaque on the branch. It only had a name, no description.

"Forbidden Fruit? That sounds fun," he laughed. You frowned.

"Uh, Illinois, I don't think you should take that one…"

"Oh, don't be a sourpuss, it'll be fine," he said as he took the necklace from the branch, smiling. His smile fell as the green and red colors of the jewel started to swirl, invading his vision. He felt himself begin to sway as he turned to his partner. The boy was on one knee glaring at the ground.

"Of course you don't listen. You don't care about me anyways…" you said without moving your mouth. Illinois, his vision covered in shades of red, green, and yellow, reached out to you.

"That's not… not true…" he slurred and heard an echo in his voice. "I… I care about… about you…" you looked up at him, your eyes wide.

"What?" You said, again not moving your mouth. "Is he hearing my thoughts?"

"Why would… would you think I… I didn't care?" He asked, his voice jumping octaves to his own ears. He felt the world spin around him and suddenly, he dropped. The ground disappeared beneath him as he fell and was suddenly stopped. His vision went back to normal as he opened his eyes and saw a speeding river below. He yelled out in fear, looking up. He saw you clutching onto his arm for dear life, while also keeping you and Illinois from plummeting by holding onto a ledge with your dagger.

"Illinois!" You yelled, "Do not move! I'm pulling myself up!" Illinois didn't respond. He just stared up at you, sweat and dirt covering your skin, your face darkening with the effort of holding him, hair sticking to your forehead…

It was making him feel weird.

He had this twisting feeling in his stomach and he felt his face heating up.

Was this… no. No, it couldn't. He would've known by now. Right?

You, running on pure willpower and adrenaline, managed to pull yourself over the ledge up to your chest. You heaved and wheezed with the effort of pulling yourself over and into your stomach. You still managed to have a deathgrip on Illinois' arm, even though you were quaking like hell. You held on.

Illinois started feeling weird again.

"Okay… okay just… just gimme a second… just a sec…" you panted. You were laying on your stomach, your head over the ledge, holding Illinois. He stared up at you, subconsciously trying to notice every detail of your face. Did you always have that scar? He didn't notice you had pulled him up until you were holding his head in your arms, rocking back and forth.

"Oh God… oh my God… you're okay… we're okay…" you stammered. Illinois pulled his head away from you, looking you in the eye. Tears were streaming down your face. He put his hands on both sides of your neck, rubbing his thumbs over your jaw. You held his face in your hands and began to sob, pulling him into a hug. You two sat and held each other for quite a while. Illinois had his eyes closed, trying to memorize your scent. He saw something bright through his eyelids and opened his eyes. He saw the plaque that was for the necklace he took. It now had a description.

Some fall in love slowly at first, where not even they know it. And then the emotion comes flooding all at once.

Illinois frowned and knitted his eyebrows together. All at once? What did that mean?

"I'm so glad you're okay…" you whispered. He felt your warm breath on his neck and he shivered. His face heated up again and the feeling in his stomach became more prominent.

Oh. That's what it meant. Was Illinois in love with you? The plaque seemed to think so…

You pulled away from the hug and smiled warmly at him. He returned it even brighter.

"I… think we deserve a week off…" he chuckled. You laughed and it made him happy. You both stood and walked around the outside of the cave, to the front of it. Illinois looked back at it for a moment and the letters on the plaque formed into English.

Arrogance fades when one makes room in his heart for others.

Illinois smiled. That one he could figure out.

"Hey Illinois! Come on!" You called from a couple yards in front of him.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'," he said as he caught up to you.

"Hey uh… I guess you really… fell for me back there huh?" You laughed. Illinois stared at you. "Yeah, I know… cheesy…" you sighed and kept walking. Illinois slowed down, his face darkening.

This was gonna be a problem.

Aha I rushed this one it bad I'm so sorry

[willykappymarnsmatts]

I Was Made For Loving You (M. Marner)

*Y/N’s POV*

My brother, Tyson, had been traded to the Leafs over the summer. We were always really close, and he begged me to transfer to a school in Toronto so we could still hang out. At first I refused, because I had grown super close to the boys in Denver, but after constant begging I eventually gave in. I hung around at home for the summer, but a week before the season started, Tyson flew me out for good.

When I land in Toronto, I have butterflies in my stomach. I’m excited for a new start, a new University, but I don’t know anyone in the city but Tyson. It’s… a lot.

“Y/N!” I hear someone call from behind me. I whip around, seconds before Tyson picks me up and spins me around. “Hi!” He yells.

“Hey, Tys,” I laugh. It’s literally been two months, but he’s acting like it’s been two years.

“So, um, I know it’s kind of late notice, but we have a banquet tonight. Did you bring a dress?”

“No, mom’s bringing all my nice clothes when she comes for Thanksgiving,” I frown. “You could’ve told me before I left!”

“Yeah, sorry about that, but we have to go shopping. Like, now.” I roll my eyes, following him to his car.

“I’m tired, Tys,” I whine. He shakes his head and takes my bags from me as we walk.

“Too bad. I’ve already told the boys about you, and they’re all excited to meet you, so you have to come with me.” His face turns a light shade of red as his voice begins to raise.

I laugh. “Okay, okay, no need to get so worked up.”

He smiles at me wide. “I missed you,” he tells me, opening the car door for me.

“Oh, a true gentleman,” I chirp.

“Shut up,” he jokes, shutting the door once I’m in.

•••

After Tyson dragged me around the mall for two hours looking for a dress, he was finally happy with one I tried on. I kept telling them every single one I tried was great, but he didn’t agree. It had to be ‘perfect,’ he insisted. I pushed for a simple, form-fitting knee-length black dress, but Tys wasn’t having it.

I come out of the dressing room in a dress that ends just below mid-thigh. It’s a deep blue, with a v-shape neck line which cuts down to the middle of my chest. It clings to my curves, complimenting my shape. Tyson looks up from his phone when I come out of the dressing room, and his jaw drops. I smile slightly, then spin in front of him. I look in the mirror at myself. I smile at my reflection, smoothing down the dress. “You don’t think it’s a little short?” I ask, tugging down the bottom of the dress.

“No, I, uh, it’s… I’m gonna have to fight my boys off of you tonight.” He scratches at the back of his neck. I smile wide at him.

“You don’t think I can handle myself, big brother?”

“No, I do, but I don’t think my friends can handle themselves.” He jokes. “We’re gonna have fun tonight.”

•••

“Y/N!” Tyson yells from the kitchen of his apartment. He’s been waiting for me for 20 minutes and is the most impatient person on the planet.

“Tyson, I’m almost ready, shut up!” I yell back, bending my head to put in a pair of gold hoop earrings. I curled my hair so it bounces when I walk, and I put on bright red lipstick. I don’t have to curl my eyelashes, but I did eyeliner and mascara. I don’t know what inside me told me I needed to go all out, but I listened nonetheless.

I walk out, click-clacking on the wood floor with black heels. I gather my hair behind my shoulders as I grab my shoulder bag from the couch.

“Wow, you look great, Y/N!” Tyson grins. I smile back at him.

“I feel pretty,” I say like a little girl. He laughs and wraps me in a hug.

“I talked to some of the guys and told them you’re coming. They’re all really excited to meet you,” he mentions, locking the door as we leave.

I nod, pursing my lips to hide a smile. I haven’t been in a relationship since I was a young teenager, and I’m almost twenty now. I’m looking forward to getting out there without Tyson babying me. When he got drafted, the boys on the team were much older than me. There was no chance in the world that they would’ve been of any interest to me, but they became like a bunch of older brothers. Now, though, it’s different.

We walk in silence to the car, the sound of my shoes echoing off the walls.

“How’s Toronto been?” I ask, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Good,” he nods. “I like it a lot, actually.”

I smile. “The guys all miss you a lot.”

He watches his shoes as he walks. “I miss them too, I really do. But to be honest, these guys on the Leafs are the tightest group I’ve ever seen. In Denver, we were tight, but the entirety of us weren’t best friends. Here, the team is a family. They all love each other, and they welcomed me into the group with open arms. You’ll see tonight, what I’m talking about.”

We get to the car and he opens the door for me and holds it while I slide in. “Seriously, how are you still single?” I chirp.

He mocks me while making a face and closes the door as I get in, making me throw my head back and laugh. He smiles as he gets in on the driver side.

“I really did miss you, you know?”

“I missed you too, big brother.”

•••

Of course, we’re fashionably late to the banquet because Tyson is the slowest driver on planet earth. When I told him this, he obviously blamed me.

“It’s not my fault you took five hours to get ready.” He tells me as we jog into the hall. I shake my head and laugh slightly. When Tyson pushes open the doors into the hall, loud music hits us like a truck. I’m taken aback at the beautiful set-up. The walls have blue drapery almost the same colour as my dress. There are round tables with white table clothes all around the room, with a DJ booth and a dance floor in the middle. People are strewn about, some on the dance floor and some hanging out at their seats.

“I’m going to go find Kyle, let him know we’re alive,” Tyson tells me, patting my shoulder as he walks away. I’m left alone at the entrance and I make my way into the party.

•••

*Mitch’s POV*

When I saw her walk in, my breath caught in my throat. She was probably the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, but as I got up the courage to go and talk to her, Tyson came by and blocked my view. I try to peek over his shoulder and watch her, but he’s too wide.

“Hey, Mitchy!” Tyson says, hugging me and patting my back. “How ya doing?”

“Good, I’m… good,” I say distractedly, still trying to find the girl I saw just a moment ago. I give up for the moment and focus my attention back on Tyson. “How are you, bud?”

“Good. My sister flew in today, she’s around here somewhere. Let me know if you have a chance to meet her. She’s-“

“Uh, Tys,” I interrupt. I see a head of curly brown hair walking away from us and immediately try to come up with an excuse to get away. “I think I see a guy I knew from juniors. Do you mind if I go for a sec?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Tyson nods, obviously confused as to why I’m not acting myself. I can explain later.

“Thanks, man.” I say, shrugging past him and towards the girl in the blue dress.

I’m nearing the girl, turning and shouldering past some people I know and some people I don’t. I smile and nod as I pass, and take a deep breath as I near the girl.

“Mitchhh,” Auston appears in front of me when I’m two steps away from the mystery girl. “I’m… drunk.” He states, almost proudly.

“Matts, we got here an hour ago. How the fuck are you already drunk?” I ask, the girl momentarily forgotten.

“Well, there was this girl, right, and I wanted to buy her a drink, but she left, so I just drank it. Then I had two more drinks. And then another one.” He slurs all his words together and if I hadn’t seen him in this state eleven million times before, I would have no idea what he’s saying to me. But I have, and I understand him clearly.

“Okay, Aus. Uh, go sit in your seat, you are in no shape to dance. And I am cutting you off. Water only.”

“But Mitchhhhh,” he drawls.

“No. I’m the one that has to deal with a big hungover baby tomorrow morning. No more drinks.”

“Fffffine.” He slurs, wobbling to his table. I take a breath and scan the room once more. I see the girl and start to make my way over to her, but I get interrupted again.

“Mitchy, have ya-“

His head of blonde hair pops up in front of me out of nowhere, and I step back slightly in shock. “Willy, I’m kinda busy right now, okay? Sorry, bud.” I shove past Will and he just nods as I pass him. She’s two steps away from me now.

One step away.

I tap on her shoulder.

•••

*Y/N’s POV*

I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I turn around, expecting to meet Tyson. Instead, it’s a boy I do not recognize. He’s taller, almost a head taller than I am. He has short brown hair that is swept lazily to one side. He has bright blue eyes that shine as he grins wide at me. He’s wearing a magenta jacket and a clean off-white dress shirt. He’s beautiful, to put it frankly.

“Hi,” he says. I can barely hear him over the music, but if I watch his mouth, I can make out the words. “My name is Mitch, I play for the Leafs. I haven’t seen you before, what’s your name?”

I smile at him. “I’m Y/N. Ya know Tyson?”

“Fuck me,” he sighs. “Your boyfriend?”

I throw my head back and laugh. My hair falls behind my shoulders and when I look at Mitch, he’s smiling again. “No, definitely not my boyfriend. He’s my brother.”

“Ohhh. Well, shit.”

I laugh again. “Why shit?”

He looks up at me, almost like he forgot I was there. “Well, Y/F/N Barrie, I think you’re really beautiful, and I wanted to ask you to dance, but if Tyson sees me dancing with you he’ll probably murder me.”

I smile and feel my cheeks redden. “Tyson has no say over who I get to dance with,” I say firmly. “If you wanna dance, just ask.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, staring at me in amazement. I begin to turn around, but he catches my wrist and spins me back to him. “Will you dance with me, Y/N?”

I nod, trying to hide my grin. I place my bag on my seat and take his outstretched hand in mine. “I’d love to.”

He drags me out to the middle of the dance floor, just as Thinking Out Loud starts playing. I wasn’t expecting a slow song, and I falter mid-step. “Oh, um, if you don’t want to-“

“I do. I do want to.” He tugs my arm once more to keep me moving. We find an empty space among the swaying couples. I stare at him, and he stares back. Neither of us moves for a moment, then he places his hands on either side of my waist, inching them to the small of my back. I bring my hands up to the back of his neck and interlock them behind his head. I smile at him, and he grins back.

We become more comfortable in each others’ space. As we continue to dance, and the songs change, we stay in each other’s arms, asking questions, slowly getting to know each other. He pulls me closer to him, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “My heart is fucking racing,” he mutters, and my body shakes with silent laughter. I pull back to look at him, and the look on his face tells me I wasn’t supposed to hear that.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, our faces so close my nose is brushing his, “I’m falling pretty fast, too.”

We continue to sway, our bodies pressed against each other. I press my forehead against Mitch’s and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Y/N, nobody’s made me lose my mind like this, ever.” I smile and pull my head away from his so we can continue to sway.

As the next song ends, Mitch and I are left in a haze where only we exist. “I’m thirsty,” I tell him.

“I need a drink, too.” He takes my hand and leads me to the bar…

Where Tyson is standing, watching us.

“Fuck,” Mitch abruptly stops.

I turn my body to face him, my back to Tyson. I can feel his eyes on me. “Do you have ulterior motives, Marner?” I ask him, only half-kidding. He shakes his head furiously.

“It’s kind of terrifying, really terrifying, actually, but I think I might be in love with you.”

I smile and squeeze his hand, my face reddening. “Then why are you so scared of my brother?” I don't wait for a response, but pull Mitch behind me up to the bar.

“I see you met Mitch,” Tyson states, his voice nearly growling. It’s a side of him I almost never see, and it’s so different from his higher, happy voice.

“Yes I did, actually, and I think I’m possibly falling for him. Not that it’s actually any of your business, but we’ve talked a lot and I like him, so…” my voice trails off.

Tyson studies the two of us, mostly staring at our intertwined fingers. “You guys just met.” He frowns.

“We’re not getting married, Tys. Chill out, and back off a little, okay?”

He tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear and forces a tight grin. “Fine.”

He faces Mitch. “If you hurt her, or cross any lines, you’re dead. And I don’t care if you’re my teammate.”

Mitch nods, his hand literally shaking in mine. I smile wide. As Tyson leaves, we sit on stools at the bar, waiting for the bartender. I kiss him lightly on the cheek. I start to say something else, but I lose my train of thought when he gently takes my chin and turns me towards him.

He leans into me and kisses me, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt. The world disappears, and I melt into the kiss, into Mitch. He pulls away, and my eyelids refuse to open all the way. “Okay?” He whisper. I nod, dizzy and flustered and…

In love.

[sourbkg]

Hello! I’m not sure what your rules are so please forgive me if I’m requesting something you can’t do. Could you do HCs or like a scenario thing for bakugo snd todorokis (separate)where their s/o went to the store and some guys followed her out. Then she gets in her car but they followe her home too! And she calls them freaking out! Do whatever would work best for this! Thank you so much and once again please forgive me!

———i did scenarios over headcannons because it’s easier for my pea brain to explain. also because the request itself is so specific, i kept it for todoroki but sorta changed it up for bakugou? also these are aged up!! hope you enjoy !! ———

TW: slight stalker-ish themes?? bakugou’s is the worst

todoroki shoto

It was one of the rare days he had off, and you decided it would be great to make him some soba for dinner. He offered to come with you to the grocery store, but you declined, insisting he stay home and relax and that you’d be back within an hour.

There was nothing off with the trip there, the ride smooth and you even got upfront parking! You did accidentally bump into someone going down an aisle, but after an apology and a brief conversation about noodles, you were off.

You only needed a couple things, carrying them in your hands and getting in line. The same person you bumped into ended up behind you, and you made idle chat while the cashier scanned your items. The man behind you, who you noted was standing a little close, offered to walk you out to your car since it was later in the day, but you shook your head with a smile, insisting you’d be fine.

With that, you packed your groceries into your car and left, humming softly to a song on the radio. After about five minutes, you realized the car behind you had been following close. You made it a point to take unnecessary turns. When you made three more unneeded turns and they were still hot on your tail, you called Todoroki.

“Hello?” He sounded groggy, like you had just woken him up.

“Hey. I don’t want to worry you or anything, but I think someone’s following me? This car has been behind me since I left the grocery store.” You glanced in the rear view mirror.

There was a pause. “Are you sure it’s not coincidence?”

“I’m pretty sure. I’ve taken a bunch of extra turns and they’re still behind me.”

Another pause. “How far are you from here?”

“About two minutes. I’m passing that Chinese place you like a lot.”

“I’ll be waiting outside for you.” Was his curt reply. There was some shuffling on his end before the call ended.

You breathed a small sigh of relief, looking in the mirror again and frowning when you realized they were still behind you.

When you pulled up to the apartment complex, Todoroki stayed true to his word. He stood on the sidewalk in front of where you usually parked, arms crossed over his chest and a bored expression on his face. You parked, shutting the car off and visibly flinching when the person who had been following you paused behind your car before speeding off when Todoroki started moving towards your car.

He came to your door, opening it for you and glancing in the direction of the car.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly.

You nodded, “I guess, I just wanna know why they were following me.”

He nodded, offering his hand to you, which you gladly took. He then helped grab the groceries and the two of you went into your apartment.

“Thank you.” You said quietly, squeezing his hand before moving into the kitchen to start cooking.

“It’s no problem.” He replied, giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek, “what’re boyfriends for.”

bakugou katsuki

You didn’t mind working at a bar. It was decent money and you got the later shifts that included either funny drunks or the sobbing messes. Both kept you busy. Bakugou also didn’t mind you working there, despite his hero work that could easily keep you both afloat. He knew you enjoyed it and would even stop by your shift sometimes when he was on patrol.

Tonight was no different, you fixing margaritas for a women whose husband was having an affair and cutting a man off from having more tequila.

Most people throughout the night were polite, some being agitated and snapping — literally snapping at you to try and get your attention as you obviously work with another customer.

Another man snapped in your direction and you made it a point to get to him last for his rude behavior, him mumbling some things to himself before you got to him.

“What’s someone as cute as you working at a place like this?” You heard him ask, though you ignored it in favor of mixing the drink he asked for.

“Hey.” He slammed his hand on the bar, causing you to jump and look at him, “I asked you a question. I don���t like being ignored.”

You only stared at him, baffled by his behavior. Sliding him the drink, you moved to walk to the back of the bar. One of your male coworkers dealt with people like that and you went outside for some air.

The way out from the back lead to an alley, but you didn’t mind. It was quiet and cool out, you leaned against the brick wall and let out a small breath.

Footsteps resounded in the alley and you looked up to see the same man from before, anger present in his features.

“What, you think you’re too good for me? You think you can just leave your coworker in your stead to deal with me?” His steps were heavy and he had a slight slur. An aggressive drunk.

You took a step back to the door, ready to rush back inside at any given moment.

“Look dude, I—“ You started, but within seconds he was on you. Hands pressed against your shoulder, shoving you back against the wall.

He was there only for a second, before another weight was throwing him off.

Bakugou stood in his wake, seething in his hero costume.

“You think it’s fucking cool to push people around like that?” He asked, though the man just groaned and looked up at the hero.

“S-she came onto m-me!” He sputtered, pointing an accusing finger at you.

Bakugou’s scowl deepened.

“I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of my sight. If I ever catch you harassing anyone like that again, I’ll kill you.” His eyes never left the mans.

“B-but she—“

“ONE.” He started. The man scrambled up, bolting past you and out of the alley. “TWO.”

Once he reached five, he stopped counting, looking at you. “You okay?”

You nodded. He pulled you into his arms and held you there, noting how you shook slightly.

“Go get your stuff. I’m gonna tell your boss what happened and I’m taking you home.”

“You don’t have to do—“

He cut you off. “I don’t care if I don’t have to. I want to. Now let’s go.”

———i really never know how to end stories but that’s fine. requests are still open!!!———

[xxx-cat-xxx]

What We Lose in the Fire We Gain in the Flood

Summary: The universe is saved, Thanos is defeated, the Vanished are returned, and Tony has survived (though with severe radiation burns and one less arm). Everything should be good now - except that it isn’t.

While Tony embarks on a painful and frustrating recovery, he wrestles with the fear that he’s no longer capable of caring for his family. Meanwhile, Peter tries to find his place in a world that just doesn’t feel like his own anymore.

Words: 13.5k

Tags: Irondad, Spiderson, Ironfam, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-it (but it takes a while to get there), Emotional and Physical Whump, very faint mention of death ideation, Injuries, Vomiting, Everyone needs a Hug

A/N: For @aderymoonlight. Thank you for the prompt and for waiting half a year until it was finally ready. A million thanks to @whumphoarder for being the world’s best beta reader (seriously, I don’t know how I would have done this without you). Additional thanks to @sallyidss, @twentyghosts, and @newnewyorker93 for helping me with the tricky details. You are amazing!

Link to read on AO3

___________________________

Like the flame of a candle caught in the wind, the arc reactor in Tony’s chest flickers, resists, and then eventually dies down. And so does something within Peter. 

“Stay back!” Dr. Strange shouts. He draws a sparkling circle into the dusty air, encompassing Tony and Pepper before making them disappear right in front of Peter’s eyes.

And suddenly, Peter feels a wave of exhaustion crash over him. The world shimmers before him like it’s about to dissolve. He sinks to his knees, drawing in laboured breaths. It’s simply too much. Within one day, he went from a school bus, to another planet’s moon, to the battlefield where the fate of the world is being decided, and he feels as if some parts of him are still scattered throughout the universe. 

Peter thinks he might throw up (or possibly faint), and he figures that he should probably alert someone to that, but the only person he actually knows around here is Mr. Stark, who might be dead, and oh god- 

“Spider-Man?” It’s Colonel Rhodes, to whom Peter has spoken maybe twice in his life. But the man looks at him as if he’s known Peter for years, as if he’s relieved to see him alive, and as if he still isn’t sure whether Peter is actually back or just a dream. “Are you injured?”

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Peter stutters, and he honestly doesn’t. He tries to get to his feet, but the world starts to spin around him in a nauseating way, so he sinks back down onto his knees. He can taste bile at the back of his throat and instinctively presses a fist to his mouth.  

“Okay.” Rhodey gives him a quick once-over, apparently not liking what he sees. “Stay put. Now where’s that goddamn magician -”

Then Rhodey is gone and maybe a minute, or a year, or a century later, the world explodes into golden sparkles and Peter has the unnerving feeling of being crumbled up into small pieces and sucked through the hose of a vacuum cleaner before being spat out again. He lands on a very clean linoleum tiled floor, his stomach in his throat. 

He starts gagging for good then, and someone is shoving a kidney-shaped pink basin into his hands. Hospital, his brain registers while he heaves up the breakfast he ate years ago mixed with dust from another planet’s moon, all the while his heart pounding with worry for his mentor. He clings to the basin with all he has because something in him is still convinced that he might dissolve again at any moment. 

“Take it easy, kid.” Someone is patting him on the back, and all Peter can do is nod before he is throwing up again. “Be right back,” the someone says, but then nobody comes back for a long time. There’s all hell broken loose around Peter, doctors and nurses running hectically to and fro, wheeling patients around. He knows that he should probably help - he’s Spider-Man after all - but he isn’t sure whether he can stand up just now. 

It seems like years that he sits there, faintly wondering whether everyone has maybe just forgotten about him. He stops throwing up at some point, but still feels dizzy and his bones seem weirdly light, as if he might float away if he isn’t careful. 

Then, finally, there’s a voice he knows. “Kid? Kid, is that you?”

“Happy?” Peter glances up and there he is, older and heavier and with a child in his arms.

“Kid? Peter? Oh god.” He sets down the girl and then encases Peter in his arms, tightly, the second completely unexpected hug today. “It worked. Oh my god, it worked. Where’s Tony?” 

“I don’t know,” Peter croaks, and then, out of all the questions in his mind, he picks the most recent one. “Is that your kid?” 

“What? No, no. That’s Morgan. She’s all Tony’s.” The girl has started to cry, tugging at Happy’s coat with one hand while hiding from Peter behind the man’s knees. “Okay, let me get her to Pepper and you into a bed - you look about ready to pass out.”

Ten minutes later, Peter is lying in a hospital bed, his suit pulled down to his chest to reveal dozens of bruises, an IV in the crook of his elbow and a blood pressure cuff wrapped around his bicep, and all he can think is Mr. Stark has a daughter?

After a while, Happy comes back and shoves a phone into his hands. May is on the other side, breathing heavily. “Oh god, Peter, oh my god,” she chokes out. Peter tries to reply, but suddenly everything comes crashing over him and he’s sobbing, heaving, hyperventilating, until someone empties a syringe into his IV port that knocks him out. 

May is there when he wakes up. The sedative is dissolving quicker in his body than it would in a non-enhanced human, but it’s making him drowsy and slow and his limbs so heavy that it feels impossible to even move. 

“Hey darling,” May whispers, blinking tears away. May doesn’t cry very often, so this must be bad, he thinks woozily.

“I’m okay,” Peter slurs, despite having no idea whether that’s even true. And then, although sleep is pulling him under again, he simply has to ask, “Were you… here?” Because he has to know if she had to spend another five years in grief - has to know just how broken she is. 

“No, honey, I was gone. Reappeared in our living room in the middle of someone else’s family dinner, just to see that they finally painted the walls.”

“Okay,” he breathes, and then, his eyelids already closing, he murmurs, “How’s Mr. Stark?”

“He’ll live,” May says. She adds something else, but he’s gone already.

*

When Peter wakes up the next time, May asks him whether he’s okay with her joining the understaffed nurses in treating all the wounded. Besides those hurt during the battle, many were injured while Returning, snapped back to life in the middle of road crossings or deposited into thin air where there used to be five-storey buildings. May’s a doer - she hates to sit idle when she could help - so Peter agrees immediately. 

He’s got a bunch of broken ribs, a concussion, and a number of deep cuts, all of which are already starting to heal, but they let him stay the rest of the night because it’s not like he has anywhere else to go. The hospital is overcrowded, so they have to move him and that’s how Peter ends up in a bed next to Tony’s. There’s a thin curtain separating the patients from each other, but it isn’t pulled completely closed, so Peter is able to catch a glimpse of his mentor. 

Tony is hooked up to so many tubes and wires that he looks like a Cyborg. Despite knowing that these are the very machines that keep him alive, Peter suddenly has the irrational desire to tear them all off and free him, as if that would make him healthy again. 

He doesn’t, of course. Instead, Peter drifts a little, unable to really go back to sleep, and that’s how he witnesses Tony waking up for the first horrible time, before they put him in a coma for days. His mentor takes one painful, wheezing breath, and the only part of his face that isn’t covered by bandages shows raw panic. He makes a choking noise, gasping for air, and then cries out in a way that sounds barely human anymore. 

He might be dying, Peter thinks. What if he dies here and now and I can’t do anything to stop it? But then a doctor bursts into the room and minutes later Tony is out again. 

That’s the first time that Peter wonders how much it cost to bring him back.

*

Five days later, when Peter is long out of the hospital and the world is slowly starting to shift back into a state that once used to be called ‘normal’, when Tony finally stirs and his eyelids flutter open, Bruce expects a joke. A punchline. Triumph. A retroactive kick to Thanos’ ass.

But instead, Tony whispers, brokenly, “Please tell me it’s over.”

And then, to Bruce’s horror, he starts to cry.

*

The Parkers’ old apartment was rented out to new tenants during the five years they were gone. May takes one look at the family staying there, too many people for the three tiny rooms, and decides that she doesn’t have the heart to enforce her right of return. 

Instead, they now temporarily stay in an awfully luxurious home that Happy arranged for them through Pepper. Peter knows he should be grateful for not ending up homeless, but he’d have almost preferred to live in one of the shelters where the rest of the Returned are staying, just to make him feel a little less out of place. 

Everything is still settling - the bureaucracy’s gone crazy, and school won’t start for another month at least, which will likely result in severely shortened summer holidays - but May is already back to work. The hospitals are still overfilled and every person with medical knowledge is needed. Thus, Peter spends his time catching up with Ned and MJ and trying hard not to think too much about what happened. 

A few days after Tony has woken up, Happy texts Peter to let him know that he can visit. 

Happy picks him up with an electric car that opens with a fingerprint sensor - despite half of the world’s engineers being dusted, technology seems to have advanced quite a bit. He’s as grumpy as ever, but somehow in a softer way that makes it clear to Peter he doesn’t really mean it. He glances at Peter every few seconds through the rearview mirror as if he still can’t believe that the kid is back. Peter can’t blame him. He himself has a hard time digesting what all has happened, and more than once he’s woken up bathed in sweat from a nightmare of Titan. 

There are drawing books and a plush toy in the backseat of the car and Happy doesn’t say anything when Peter eats a chocolate muffin and the crumbs fall down onto the leather upholstery. It’s nice somehow, but also weird. Just another detail that makes Peter realise what all he’s missed. Happy is ‘Uncle Happy’ now.

Peter’s stomach is curling anxiously when they pull up to the hospital. He wants to see Tony, but something about the memory of him wheezing in the hospital bed is gnawing at him. He wonders how much Tony has changed in the five years that passed. He wonders what he’s going to say to him.

In the end, it turns out that his nervousness was in vain. Tony is fast asleep when he arrives at the hospital, knocked out cold by the combined force of painkillers and the effort of having been awake the whole morning. He doesn't flinch when Morgan scrambles over him in the hospital bed with her stuffed animals. The girl doesn't seem to be phased anymore by the tubes and wires sticking out of her dad, but Peter is careful not to touch anything, afraid that a single wrong move might worsen Tony's condition.

Tony looks a bit better than he did the day of the battle, but not much. His right arm is gone - nothing left there to be salvaged, they say. His face is still mostly covered in bandages that run down to his shoulder, but Peter can see that his right eye is continuously leaking tears from below a burnt eyelid.

“We'll let him know that you came by. He'll be glad,” Pepper promises, and Peter nods and thanks her but secretly he isn't so sure that Tony would be glad about being seen in this state by anyone. On the other hand, that was the Tony of five years ago, and the more Peter observes everyone around him, the more he realises that he knows practically nothing about this new Tony.

He asks Happy to drop him off at Ned’s and they spend the evening getting up-to-date on the state of the world’s computer games. For a few hours, he almost manages to pretend that everything is normal.

*

Recovery isn’t a straight road. 

Ten days after the battle, just when Tony is able to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time and the doctors are starting to reduce the meds that keep him high and loopy and generally incoherent, Tony’s stump arm gets infected. 

Pepper first notices the chills that run through him while he weakly plays with Morgan in the hospital bed. By evening, he is throwing up what little lunch they managed to make him eat and the next day his temperature is up to 103 degrees. The meds do nothing to keep away the fever dreams. Pepper finds herself at her husband’s bedside once again, squeezing his one remaining hand while he moans and shivers his way through the nightmares and pain. 

He has a seizure the night after that when his temperature hits 104. Then Tony’s heart gives out and for a few terrible hours Pepper is afraid that after all he’s gone through, this is how they’re going to lose him. She has Morgan in her lap on the waiting room bench outside while the medics are shocking the life back into him, not sure whether her child is holding onto her or the other way around.

*

Tony wakes up with a gasp. His memory is a blur of pain and surreal, screwed images of a world in which everyone he loves is dead. But that can’t be true because just next to him, his wife and daughter are sitting, very much alive, looking at him with obvious relief on their faces. 

“What appn’?” he croaks, trying to reach for Pepper with an arm that isn’t there. 

“Drama queen,” Pepper whispers, and he notices she’s crying. “I almost thought we were gonna lose you.”

“What, because I took a bath in gamma radiation?” he replies with a smirk. The words get stuck somewhere in the middle, but she understands anyway, smiling through the tears on her face.

Tony, it turns out, is stubborn as a mule. After they resuscitated him, the antibiotics finally showed some effect in fighting the infection. His fever breaks two days later. 

It’s the only time Pepper has cried since they left the battlefield. Rhodey talks the doctors into putting a second bed in the room and takes Morgan out to the playground for some distraction. Pepper makes it to the bed before collapsing, then sleeps for 14 hours straight. Tony, still feverish and weak, joins her for most of the time, but watches her whenever he wakes, wondering how he ever deserved someone like that. 

He remembers the battle with a mixture of horror, awe, and disbelief. They did it. They won, just like the kid said. Everyone is alive, has come back to life, except for Natasha, who definitely deserved better. But Tony knows that everyone in his team would have thought it worth to trade their own life for so many others’, the assassin included.

It should all be good, then.

But it isn’t. It won’t be for a long, long time.

*

“Tony, it’s okay, you’re okay, hey, just wake up -”

“Oh god,” he jerks awake with the leftovers of a scream on his lips, taking huge, desperate gulps in an attempt to suck in air. It was real - so fucking real.

“Breathe with me.” Bruce’s voice is impossibly calm and reassuring. Tony would call him out on not being that kind of doctor if only he could spare the breath to do so. His chest is hurting so much that he’s almost sure he’s dying for real this time. “In and out. Come on, Tony. Look at me.” 

Tony tries, tries so hard, and after a few minutes he’s gotten himself enough under control that the pain in his chest subsides and the air actually reaches his lungs. But with the oxygen comes the realisation, crystal-clear. It’s not over. It will never be over. Even after his death and defeat, after being killed not once, but twice, Thanos still has a firm grip on Tony’s mind. The disappointment hits so hard that it drives tears to his eyes. 

“It’s okay,” Bruce says. “You’re okay now. We’re all fine.”

“It’s not okay,” Tony croaks, defeated. “It’s not fair. It’s over, we won, this isn’t supposed to happen anymore -” 

Bruce gives him a sad smile. “PTSD doesn’t end when the threat goes away, Tony. That’s why it’s called post-traumatic.”

“I know,” Tony replies impatiently, remembering New York clearly enough, how he never really left space even after coming back to earth. “I just thought that now - now that we’ve brought them back - that it would make a difference.” 

But that’s it, the ultimate proof that it’s not Thanos who is responsible for how screwed up Tony’s mind is, but Tony himself. Defeating Thanos was not a magical solution to all of Tony’s problems the same way that Thanos’ plan was not a solution to any of the universe’s problems. 

He almost wants to cry. “Will this ever get better?” he asks, voice impossibly small. 

Bruce gives him a sad look. “I’d like to say that it will, but I don’t want to lie. You know, my father died almost thirty years ago, and there are still nights when I wake up and feel like he’s leaning over me, about to hit me with a belt.” 

Tony bites his lip upon that admission, feeling ashamed and angry all the same. Bruce is somehow dealing with his trauma - hell, everybody is. He shouldn’t be having so much trouble pulling himself together. 

“Don’t think that.”

“What?” Tony asks.

“I can see it on your face. Stop thinking that you’re being silly. You’re not. I know how much it screws with your mind.” Bruce’s voice is warm as he continues. His huge finger lightly brushes Tony’s hand. “We’re all here for you, you know that, right? And once you’ve recovered a bit more, maybe you could give therapy a chance.”

“Yeah,” Tony says, his voice lacking conviction. “Thanks, big guy.” 

He doesn’t want to go back to sleep, but the meds he is on don’t really leave him any choice. He sinks back onto the pillows. Minutes later, he is falling through a hole in the sky. Thanos is exactly where he left him.

*

When he was younger, Peter used to own a game in which he had to tilt a small wooden maze back and forth until the tiny metal balls contained in it rolled into the right divots. It’s a little how the world feels to him now. People are trying to find their place, struggling to fit in, but there are just too many metal balls and not even close to enough divots for everyone. 

Peter’s lucky. With May, Ned, and MJ all having been snapped, nobody close to him has moved on without him. This is what he tries to tell himself whenever he doesn’t recognise a reference to a movie, or when he realises that his juniors are suddenly a whole head taller than him, or when he mourns the loss of all his personal possessions. Ned is much worse off. Only half his family got snapped, and his mom moved on - and in - with a new boyfriend in the meantime. After Ned and his father Returned, his parents have been fighting without break until Ned temporarily moved to stay with one of his uncles. MJ categorically doesn’t talk about her family, but May’s heard rumours that MJ’s older brother left during the five years and still hasn’t been found. 

Peter’s lucky. That’s what he tells himself when he gasps awake from nightmares of Titan, of Tony’s deathly pale face in a heap of rubble, when he has to dig his nails into the back of his hands so hard that they draw blood just to convince himself that they won’t dissolve in front of his eyes. 

Instead of crime fighting, he goes out scouting. One night, he climbs a garbage heap near their former apartment and finally finds the old suitcase that holds Ben’s few remaining personal items. He cries a bit then, because it’s the middle of the night with no one to see the tears on his cheeks, and it’s all just a little too much. 

May doesn’t ask where he found the suitcase when he hands it to her during breakfast the next morning. She just brushes a finger over the dark rings under his eyes and hugs him tightly before making him the first cup of coffee he’s ever tasted. 

*

Tony’s spent a lot of time in his life ‘recovering’ from something or another. There was the heart surgery he underwent after getting his arc reactor removed, the terrifying weeks in the cave with Yinsen where painkillers were a rarity, blurry periods of rehab in his twenties that he can’t really remember, and the time after Siberia with a cracked sternum that he doesn’t want to. He’s used to dealing with a body that’s held together mostly by morphine and willpower. 

So when the doctors tell him that it will take a long time until he will be able to walk again, that blood pressure regulation will likely be an issue for the rest of his life, that the nervous system on his right side is fried, that he is lucky he didn’t lose more than an arm (and technically an ear, since he is almost deaf now on his right side), Tony doesn’t break. No legs for a while then. One ear, one arm. It’s not ideal, but he can work with that. 

Tony spends the next week with Pepper and Morgan, eagerly awaiting the day he will be allowed to go home. He is usually exhausted enough by lunch that he has to sleep for a few hours, which annoys him almost more than anything else. The fever keeps coming back in the evenings, but he ignores it the best he can and dials up the morphine enough to be able to think through the pain without getting drowsy. He bullies Rhodey into smuggling a tablet into his hospital room and clumsily starts to draw up schematics for a prosthetic arm with his left hand during the nights when he is alone. 

The kid visits one day. He looks tired and sort of nervous, but he is still absolutely alive (which Tony knew, of course, but there are only so many times you can see someone die in a nightmare before you start having doubts), so alive that Tony feels himself tearing up a little. 

Peter stops dead in his tracks when he enters the room, his eyes widening at the sight of Tony’s burnt and scarred face. The stump arm is only covered with a light bandage now and Tony’s sunken eyes and hollow cheeks betray the days spent in a feverish haze. Pepper said that the kid visited before, so he must have known what was coming, but Tony guesses that it’s still kind of a shock to realise the permanent nature of all the damage. He himself still avoids mirrors as much as possible.

Sensing that the situation has every potential to slip into the worst levels of awkward, Tony ploughs ahead. “Guess that’s it for the Playboy cover shoots then,” he jokes lightly.

For a moment, the kid looks baffled. Then the corners of his mouth lift and curl into a smile. “I think they would make an exception for the superhero of the year.” He steps fully into the room and carefully settles on the chair next to Tony’s bed before blurting out, “Mr. Stark, I’m so glad you’re not dead!”

*

Half an hour later, the two have pulled up the schematics for the prosthetic arm and Tony is explaining all the special features to the kid. Tony’s head is aching and the phantom pain is bad today - he knows he was due for more painkillers a while ago. But this is fun, this is what he’s been missing for five goddamn years, and for a moment, it feels like nothing has changed at all. 

The kid looks exhausted and Tony makes a mental note to check in with May as soon as he’s more able to make sure that there’s no lasting damage from their involuntary trip to space.

“You’re adding a soldering iron to your own prosthesis?” Peter asks, flabbergasted. 

Tony smirks. “Come on, you can’t tell me it’s not cool.”

“It is, but then add some more real-world practical things as well. Like a can opener.” 

Tony sputters. “Next Pepper will ask me to integrate a spice grinder for her cooking. And Morgan will want storage space for Alpaca food.”

“You have an alpaca?” Peter’s face screws up and Tony can practically see how he is trying to fit this new information into the mental image he has of his mentor. 

“It’s all the kid. Morgan has a very soft spot for animals. Even spiders.” He winks. “But she’s also into race cars and explosives, so don’t worry, I’m pretty sure she’s actually related to me.”

Peter chuckles and Tony is overwhelmed by the urge to take Peter to the lakehouse to meet Gerald and his daughter just as soon as he’s allowed to go home. 

“Fireworks,” Peter says eventually. “You should add fireworks to the arm.” 

Tony opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again and slowly makes a note on the sketch for the prototype, the letters a bit awkward from writing with his left hand.

“Speaking of special features, I’m gonna make you a suit with the newest tech and then you can go patrolling again,” Tony promises. “I know you can’t wait to get back to your secret identity. Just hold on a few more days before going out, okay?”

“Sure, of course,” Peter says with a nod, visibly happy that Tony has brought up the topic.  

Then the nurse comes in and coaxes Tony into taking his meds and drinking water, for which he has to sit up completely. It leaves him dizzy and a bit out of breath. He leans his head back against the headboard and holds onto the sheets with his hand, counting down from ten. When the black fades away, Peter is looking at him with a faraway and slightly sentimental expression on his face.

“Mr. Stark?” 

“Make it Tony, will you?” Tony says. “I think we’re past the formalities now.”

Peter swallows. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, Tony. I just...thank you for bringing me back. For saving us all.”

Tony waves his hand dismissively. “Eh, a few more times saving the world and I’ll get a free frozen yogurt.”

*

Happy comes to pick up the kid and drop a package off for Tony, who passes out as soon as they leave. When he wakes up in the late evening, the nurse informs him that Pepper and Morgan visited for a while but didn’t want to wake him up. 

After choking down a tasteless dinner (he really needs to make a hefty donation to the hospital so that they can upgrade the cafeteria) Tony shifts gingerly to the side of the bed and bends down to pick up the cardboard box from where Happy set it. It contains the two pieces of the first prototype for the arm he’s designed over the past week. 

It looks almost like a real arm, but he couldn’t resist adding some red and gold around the wrist and on the fingertips. The robotic prosthesis is based on musculoskeletal modelling, is neuro-adaptive, and, of course, powered by a tiny blue arc reactor set into the palm. Tony positions the upper part between his thighs, then takes the lower in his hand and sets out to connect the two pieces and -

It doesn’t fit. He tries again, thinking it was just his shakiness or a stubborn hinge somewhere, but no, it simply doesn’t fit. Upon closer inspection, the lower piece is about three millimeters wider than the upper one. It’s a small error, but enough to make it impossible to connect the pieces into a functioning prosthesis.

“FRIDAY,” Tony asks, trying to drone out the growing panic and the sound of his heart beating loud and fast in his ears. “There must have been an issue with the printer.”

“No, sir,'' the AI replies from the speakers of his phone on the bedside table. “It was printed exactly according to the specifications you entered.”

“Who made those measurements?” Tony asks, his breath quickening. He knows the answer. Of course he knows the answer. 

“You did, boss.”

And that’s when Tony breaks.

Of course, the past week he’s been in pain and on drugs and not exactly clear in his head, but he’s worked in much worse states before. High on cocaine and perpetually drunk throughout most of his thirties. In Afghanistan, with a car battery keeping his stuttering heart alive. God, he invented a new element while literally dying. He is Tony Fucking Stark. He doesn’t make mistakes. 

Except this time, he did.

*

The doctors say it will most likely not get worse, but they’re not sure whether it will ever get better. Tony’s brain, his essence, is most likely forever going to be damaged. 

He is still cleverer than the majority of the human population, so nobody seems to think much of it. Tony, on the other hand, can’t help but feel like his world has been shaken to its core. Physical impairment is bearable; he has worked with that before. But if he can’t trust his own mind, he’s useless. Worse, he’s a liability.

He nods politely at the doctor whose last sentences are already being swallowed by the rushing in his ears. Then there’s only silence and the long, deep breaths he takes to fight the tightness in his chest. 

“We’re gonna figure this out, Tony.” Pepper’s hand comes down on his shoulder. She looks at him as if she’s expecting a panic attack, and the funny thing is, he’s expecting one as well. But that’s the thing about anxiety; it’s anything but predictable. It rarely strikes when you expect it to. 

Tony swallows. He doesn’t trust his voice, so he just grabs her hand with his remaining one and squeezes tightly. He once tricked his own heart into functioning again, but this time, it’s the very source of his intelligence that’s bailing on him. He doesn’t admit it to Pepper, but the truth is, he has no idea how to figure this one out. 

*

They let him go a few days later. 

“Daddy is crying,” Morgan points out in a stage whisper when Pepper pulls into the garage at the lake house. 

“I’m not,” Tony corrects from where he is sitting next to her in the backseat. “My eye is a bit broken, just like when the tap was leaking in the kitchen, remember?” But his voice is suspiciously hoarse and through the rearview mirror Pepper can see him blinking rapidly. She can’t blame him - she’s feeling pretty sappy herself at bringing him home. For a while, neither of them were sure he’d ever see the lakehouse again. 

The short walk to the front door and into the living room is tedious. Tony is operating a crutch with his left arm, his stump shoulder supported by Pepper while Morgan is impatiently running ahead of them. By the time they settle down onto the living room couch, all colour has drained from Tony’s face. He is panting and sweating and generally looking about ready to keel over. 

“Let’s go and feed Gerald!” Morgan begs, climbing up onto her father’s lap and pulling at the chords of his sweater. “And then I’ll show you the tree house I built with Uncle Rhodey while you were at the hospital, and then we eat dinner, and then you have to read ‘If you give a mouse a cookie’ to me.”

“Sounds good, Morguna,” Tony replies in a slightly choked voice. He pulls her close to his chest and rests his chin lightly on her head, closing his eyes with a tired exhale. “Let me rest my legs for a bit, and then I’ll see what we can do, okay?”

And Pepper can see it, can spot on every inch of his face the frustration over how his body and his mind are betraying him battling with the gratitude for what he still has left. She can see his love for their daughter seeping from every pore of his body, but it is overshadowed by a fear that’s been in him for as long as she’s known him - a deep-sitting worry that he’s not good enough for any of the good things life gives to him. 

All she wants is to find a way to make him understand that he deserves every scrap of happiness they can find together. She’s told him, in the early morning hours when nightmares would bar both of them from sleep and they were too tired to keep up their usual snark and banter. But sometimes words are not enough to make someone believe they deserve better. 

She settles for bending over the two of them and pressing a long kiss to the top of each of their heads. Then she straightens up, puts on a smile and asks, “So, since it’s a special day, who’s up for cheeseburgers?”

*

It doesn’t really get easier. Something inside Tony seemed to have expected that things would miraculously improve once he was home, but of course they don’t. He’s still in a wheelchair most of the time. The physical therapist makes him stand up for longer and longer every day, which hurts like a bitch and regularly sends his blood pressure down to his ankles. Tony gets to see the living room from the perspective of the carpet more often than he ever wanted to. 

He sleeps a lot. Maybe it’s his age that makes this recovery more difficult than all the previous ones, or the fact that the gauntlet has deep-fried his brain circuitry, but he can’t stay awake for more than half a day. Tony, who has been dealing with insomnia for as long as he can remember, thought he knew how it felt to be tired. But this is a different kind of tiredness, one that seems to stem from an exhausted brain, not body. He hates all the lost hours, hates the fog in his mind when he stays up too long, hates the nightmares that sometimes morph into anxiety attacks. Though it is arguably more bearable now that he wakes up to Morgan next to him playing with her Lego sets rather than a beeping heart monitor and a sterile hospital room.

Tony doesn’t give up on tinkering immediately. He tries to work on his arm again soon after he returns, but this time he can’t remember the exact modifications he'd planned for the dimensions. He hasn’t written them down anywhere and starting again from scratch seems like accepting defeat. So he boxes the arm back up and moves on to Peter’s suit. 

He’s 3D-printed a new suit and is halfway through updating the safety systems when he notices the smell of smoke the same moment that FRIDAY starts sounding alarms. By the time the garage sprinklers have extinguished the flames, half of the suit’s fabric is black and charred, the central chest piece melted into the work table. It turns out that Tony configured the charger wrong, putting 2200 instead of 220 volts into it. The wires connecting it to the plug overheated and ignited the fabric.  

Tony knows what he should do. He knows that he should replace the wires, correct the charge load, finish the update, and print another model. 

But this time, he can’t. It was one failure too many. This time, Tony doesn’t start over. Instead, he keeps staring at the remains of the suit until the spider emblem seems to have burnt itself into his retinas, feeling dumb and useless and old.

*

Peter got his mentor back, except that he didn’t.

Not today, kid. 

He stares at the phone angrily, wondering why he’d ever expected anything else. It’s been the same reply in different variations all week, and he can’t pretend not to be bothered by it anymore. He knows that Tony is still recovering, but he’d said a few days before Peter’s new suit would be ready, and that had been two weeks ago. Many things might have changed in the five preceding years, but Peter can’t believe for the life of him that any version of Tony Stark would be able to resist the challenge of improving his tech.

Enough is enough, Peter decides as he pulls his very first suit out of the cardboard box that contains the few things he’s salvaged from the garbage dump. The empty days are starting to wear him down, and New York is going haywire with crime. With its population suddenly doubled, people are seeking out the houses where they used to live, fighting over homes, life partners, adoption papers, and much more. Peter knows he shouldn’t go out against Tony’s wishes, but then again, the Tony he used to know wouldn’t make him wait for weeks without a suit while sending him nondescript text messages that explain exactly nothing. 

Peter needs an aim, and New York needs her Spider-Man. 

He puts on the costume and looks at himself in the mirror. The old suit is a bit too short at the ankles and wrists, but it will serve its main purpose of concealing his identity. The one he was wearing during the battle got so damaged that it was practically useless even before they cut it off him at the hospital. And anyway, he wouldn’t want Tony to be alerted of his whereabouts.

Peter climbs out of the window and takes a moment to enjoy the wind on his face before swinging to the top of the opposite building. “Let’s go, Karen,” he declares, and then tries to ignore the ache of disappointment in his chest when he remembers why there is no reply. 

*

It was one of the better days, up until the point when Tony decided to run a bath for Morgan. 

Pepper is away for an SI event and Happy was looking after Morgan while Tony’s PT trainer tortured him during the afternoon. Afterwards, they settled in front of the TV, Tony swearing that he was fine and Happy could go home already, only to wake up two hours later to Happy stretched out on the sofa, glancing at him with a knowing smile while getting his fingernails painted green by Morgan.

His driver-turned-bodyguard-turned-forehead-of-security-turned babysitter left after dinner, and Tony practiced walking up and down the stairs for a while with Morgan cheering him on. It was almost like their evenings before, almost, if not for the nagging feeling in the back of Tony’s head that he’d be incapable of protecting her in case something happened. 

“I want the blue bubbles,” Morgan decides when he helps her settle into the bathtub. “And the subarins.” 

“Submarines,” Tony corrects with a smile. He pours the blue bath foam into the water and brings her the box with all her bath toys. 

“Did you take Gerald inside his house?” she asks with a serious frown between her brows. 

One evening the previous week, Tony forgot to take their alpaca back into the stable, cuing it to disturb their breakfast by shoving its face through the porch door in the morning and trying to eat Morgan’s cereal. Nothing bad came out of it, but it seems to have left a dent in his kid’s brain because she’s been asking Tony about it every night since then. 

“Let’s see. Did I bring Gerald inside, FRIDAY?” Tony addresses the wall. 

“Yes, boss,” FRIDAY replies. “However, the porch door is still open.”

“I’ll go and close it,” he says to Morgan. He playfully splashes a bit of water onto her face before pushing himself up with a groan, his back and legs making him very aware of the exercise he did today. His blood pressure isn’t really cooperating with the change in elevation and he has to brace himself against the wall inconspicuously to wait out the headrush before he can continue. 

Tony slowly makes it down the stairs, relieved when he finds the wheelchair where he left it downstairs. He rolls out onto the porch. The sun has just set on the lake, and there is something peaceful about the scene. The first stars are appearing, but not enough yet that he has to look away and find something to hold onto so as not to lose his grip on reality. 

Or that’s what Tony thinks. But when he blinks, the sky is suddenly pitch black and he is covered in goosebumps. Tony pinches himself and then glances at his stump arm to make sure this isn’t a flashback. 

“Shit,” he curses, rolling back into the house. “FRIDAY, how long was I out there?” 

“One hour and thirteen minutes, boss.” She seems to hesitate for a moment before adding, “Your vital signs did not indicate any stress, so I did not alert you.”

Tony curses again. He ditches the wheelchair and takes the stairs as fast as he can, black spots dancing in his field of vision. He almost staggers into the wall before shoving his shoulder into the bathroom door and- 

“Look, Daddy, my fingers are all wrinkly now!” 

Morgan is sitting in the now lukewarm water, surrounded by toys, presenting her hands to Tony with bright excitement on her face. He stops, his heartbeat thudding in his ears and sweat running down his temples, then slowly lets himself sink to the floor. 

“Daddy?” Morgan prompts, realising that something is off. “My fingers will be alright, won’t they?” 

Tony swallows hard. “Yeah, kiddo,” he replies tonelessly and forces a smile onto his face. “Your fingers will be just fine. Come on, let’s wash your hair and get you dried off.”

Tony manages to keep it together until he has settled Morgan in bed. He reads her her favourite book, his voice and arm shaking only the slightest bit. Morgan stares at him suspiciously, so he flicks her nose and tickles her until she is gasping for breath. He kisses her goodnight, closes the door, supports himself down the stairs to the master bedroom, and only then does he break. 

Tony hasn’t had a panic attack this bad since just after he came back from Titan, but the helpless feeling he has now is much the same as then. At that time, he was unable to save the universe, had let Peter die in his arms; now he’s letting down his family, unable to protect those he cares about. Or, even worse, he’s actively putting them in danger by zoning out for an hour.

It’s been years since Tony has thrown up from panicking. He tries to keep it down, but then the nausea gets so overwhelming that he has to scramble for the trash can near the door and heave and retch until all that comes up is burning stomach acid. 

Pepper finds him like this twenty minutes later - panting and shaking, still clutching the trash can to his chest. “Tony!” she yelps, then catches herself and lowers her voice. “What’s going on?”

He swallows heavily, searching for words. “I-I forgot Morgan in the bathroom. She, it must have been an hour, and I, I just- I can’t-”

“Shh, calm down. She’s okay, Tony, we’re all okay.” Pepper crouches down next to him and lets her hand rest on his. “Breathe with me, alright?”

He gulps down bile and air and tries to concentrate on sucking in oxygen. It takes a long time until his heart slows down a little. Pepper gently takes the bin away and then settles next to him, wraps an arm around his shoulders, and pulls him close. Tony feels himself go limp. He lets his head fall back against her collarbones, his body heavy with exhaustion and failure.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, huh?” she asks after a while, handing him a tissue that he tries to take with his right arm before remembering he can’t. 

“I’m nothing without my brain,” he replies, choked. “My brain, my mind - that’s who I am.”

“No, that’s not true. Who you are is this.” Pepper taps on the scar tissue on his chest, then lets her hand rest there, warm and reassuring. “And this is all that counts. I know it, and so does Morgan.”

And Tony would love to believe her, but he can't any more than he can use his right arm.

*

Peter is tired and school hasn’t even started yet.

He’s tired from not being able to sleep, from waking up to the ever-same nightmares in the early morning hours. Tired from having the same conversations over and over again, Oh, you got snapped? What about your aunt? Did you get your apartment back? Tell me, where did this bruise come from? He’s even tired of Ned’s and MJ’s subtle concerned looks and May’s not-so-subtle suggestions that he let his secret identity rest for a bit. He’s tired from looking at his phone and wondering whether there’s ever going to be an answer to the texts he keeps sending.

He’s not tired of Spider-Manning, but the crime rates are skyrocketing. Often times, nightly patrols stretch well into the next morning, and despite feeling like he is finally able to do something useful, it starts to wear him out after a while, making him reckless and more prone to mistakes than usual. 

A week after he resumes patrolling, a robber breaks his finger and he spends the night shuffling back and forth between the freezer and his bed, replacing the ice again and again. A woman who Returned to find her husband living with a new wife wreaks havoc at their house and hits Peter with a baseball bat when he tries to stop her, giving him a concussion that forces him to bunk over at Ned’s for May not to realise. She does anyway, and lectures him about being more careful while dosing out painkillers into his palm the morning after. Another night, May has to stitch up a slash wound he got from a man trying to blackmail an employee of the insurance company not to revoke his life insurance money. 

Then, after a more peaceful patrol when he is already on his way home, Peter finds an elderly woman with dementia trying to enter her old apartment in which a new couple is living now. The woman introduces herself as Mrs. Jackson and offers Peter jellybeans from an ancient-looking package in her handbag, which he politely declines. Peter manages to talk to the two men before they call the police, then tracks down the woman’s daughter and drops the lady off at her new address. He declines the money the daughter tries to give him, but accepts the chocolate bar, munching on it as he one-handedly swings his way back home. The sun is just setting and he watches it go down from one of his favourite viewpoint on top of the Daily Bugle building.

“That was a good day,” he says to himself. Still looking towards the river, he shoots a web over his shoulder to the building he knows is on the other side of the street and lets himself fall backward. 

The problem is, Mrs. Jackson is not the only one who sometimes forgets that the city is not what it used to be five years ago. The building on the other side of the street has been demolished. Peter’s web sticks to nothing. He realises this a split second too late. Frantically, he shoots another web into thin air in an attempt to save himself, but it’s fruitless. 

While falling, Peter thinks that the integrated parachute in the Iron Spider suit would be really useful just about right now, and that’s when his body crashes into a streetlight. Pain flares up in his stomach. It feels as if he’s being ripped apart from the inside, and that’s the last thing he knows.

*

The first time he wakes up, everything is blurry and moving in slow-motion. May is there, holding his hand, and he is in much less pain than he remembered. Peter blinks a bit and tries to feel for the boundaries of his body, but he seems to have become one with the hospital bed. He closes his eyes again. 

The second time, he’s much more lucid. A worried-looking Happy is sitting at his bedside and explains in a forcibly slow voice that May has “finally” gone to sleep and Tony is on his way to the private hospital they took him to. Peter nods, which seems to set in motion a chain reaction in his body, because ten seconds later he is retching bile into a basin Happy hastily shoved under his chin. 

They had to remove his spleen, Peter learns later, when his stomach has calmed down a little and he is sipping Sprite through a straw. From what he can gather, he wasn’t in any mortal danger, but that is mostly due to the fact that his spider powers took the brunt of it. 

The cup grows heavy in his hand while the nurse is explaining this, and then Happy takes it from his fingers with an unusually kind gesture, briefly brushing his hand through Peter’s curls before he nudges Peter’s head onto the pillow. “Get some more rest,” he says, and Peter obliges, woozy and relieved that Happy isn’t angry. 

Tony, as it turns out, is. 

Peter wakes up when he hears the tap, tap of the crutch on the tiles. He is thrown back to the walking cane of his fifth grade math teacher until he hears Tony’s voice ask someone “Is he awake?”. Then his mentor opens the door to the hospital room.

Tony looks better than the last time, but somehow simultaneously worse. His burn injuries are healed - the scars still stand out, though slightly less angrily than Peter remembers. But he’s lost weight, the circles under his eyes are larger than ever, and his usually meticulously shaven beard has become an unkempt mixture of grey and black. All in all, he has the air of someone who isn’t taking care of himself.

“You look kind of bad,” Peter starts, and maybe this isn’t exactly a polite thing to say, but his brain is still a bit messy and a part of him is simply pissed at his mentor.

“You are one to talk, boy-without-a-spleen,” Tony rebutts, the sarcasm sharp, his usual playfulness lacking completely. “So that’s what I get for snapping your ass back and asking you not to play superhero for a while.”

Peter stays silent now and bites his lip. They’ve been here before and there is really nothing new to say about it. He isn’t even scared now - just weary. He feels centuries older than that time he stood at the edge of the city and Tony took his suit away. 

“So we’re doing the not-talking thing now?” Tony asks, almost casually. He sits down heavily on the chair that Happy left abandoned, and it doesn’t escape Peter’s notice that a sheen of sweat has already formed on his forehead from the strain it seems to have taken him to come here. “Because, trust me, I’ve got four decades more experience playing that game than you.”

“That’s not it,” Peter protests. “It’s not like I want to go against you, but what was I supposed to do? Sit at home while all this crime is going on in my city and do nothing about it?” He takes a breath, his cheeks burning from anger and embarrassment. “Nobody even hurt me, okay? This just happened because I messed up.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me?” Tony demands. “Because it’s literally doing the exact opposite. Fuck, kid - do you realise that this is exactly why I asked you not to go out? You need to get used to the city again, get settled in your new life. I asked you to wait. I wanted to keep you safe -”

“But I don’t want to be safe!” Peter interrupts, exasperated. “Nobody needs a safe Spider-Man! If you’d wanted that, you’d never have taken me to Germany!” 

That’s a low blow - Peter can see it. Tony’s tired eyes widen a bit and he takes a deep breath before continuing in a forcibly calm voice, “I was there in Germany with you. I knew what we were dealing with. I was looking after you, something you don’t seem to be capable of doing on your own.” 

“I get hurt sometimes, so what?” Peter asks bitterly. “All the Avengers do. You did - you nearly died. So why is it a problem if it’s me? If you think I’m not good enough at what I’m doing, just say it. Because I don’t know what you even see in me.”

Tony sighs and runs his hand through his thinning hair. “What I see is potential, kid,” he says, softer than before. “So much potential. But you would need someone to steer you in the right direction, to make sure you don’t die before you make it through college. And that someone can't be me.” 

“Because you have your family, I get it.” Peter tries not to sound too bitter, not to let the nagging, ugly feeling of jealousy take over. 

“No, Peter - no that's not -” Tony cuts himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Damnit, kid!” he snaps. “Why do you have to make this so hard?”

There's tears burning in Peters eyes because it's not him who's making it hard, it's his life that won't ever give him a damn thing for free, ever let him keep something beautiful.

“Kid. Look at me,” Tony urges him. “I care about you, a lot, okay? I can't watch you get hurt, not after…” Tony trails off, swallows, looks away. “I realise that I can’t keep you away from patrolling. It was dumb of me to even try, and I won’t do it again. But I can’t  - I won’t be involved in this anymore.”

It’s like someone has punched Peter in the gut. He would have been fine with Tony banning him from patrolling or talking May into giving him house arrest. He expected that, almost. That would have easily been worth the crimes he prevented over the last week. But this - this hurts somewhere else, somewhere deeper than his pride and his childish desire to be taken seriously. 

Everything he thought was there between Tony and him seems to have dissolved to dust on Titan.

Tony takes out his sunglasses and puts them on, not bothered by the fact that it’s still before sunrise. “You know that bird guy you webbed to the floor during our little tussle in Germany? Calls himself Falcon. I’m not a fan, but I think it might be good for you to meet up with him sometime, practice superheroing. He’s got…” Tony takes a deep breath, his voice shaking a little now. He suddenly looks so, so old. “He’s got Cap’s shield now, I’ve heard. I’ll ask Happy to send him your number.” 

He doesn’t want me. I’m a burden. 

Any reply burning in Peter’s throat is gone. When he looks up, he thinks he glimpses tears in Tony's good eye, behind the dark glasses. 

Peter’s own eyes are stinging. He swallows. “Okay, Mr. Stark,” he says tonelessly. 

His legs feel numb when he pushes himself up. There’s a heavy feeling of nausea in his stomach that has nothing to do with his injury. “I’ll go and take a shower,” he adds without looking up at the older man.

“Will you be okay on your own?” Tony asks.

Peter doesn’t even know whether this is about the shower or something bigger. He tries not to care too much. “Yeah. It’s fine.” 

He doesn’t look back before shutting the door. 

*

“It’s fine,” Peter told Tony.

But it isn’t. Nothing is fine. 

Peter gets out of the hospital the next day, and that same evening, he’s back on the streets. Happy sends him Falcon’s number, and apparently, even sent Falcon Peter’s because he receives a constant thread of texts asking for a meeting. Peter ignores them; the last thing he needs is another person promising to look after him only to quit halfway through. Or, maybe, he thinks when he barely escapes a mugger’s bullet the weekend following, maybe that’s not entirely true. But he doesn’t want one anymore. Spider-Man can just as well work alone. 

Happy keeps calling him, but Peter doesn’t answer his calls either. Thinking of Happy makes him think of toys in the backseat and a small girl with Tony’s eyes, and he doesn’t want to remember that because then jealousy boils up, hot and sour in his stomach. He feels infinitely stupid for ever thinking that there could be more between Tony and him than their superhero relationship, for thinking that he was anything more to Tony than Spider-Man. 

“I see potential,” he keeps hearing when he tosses and turns at night in his bed, and yeah, that’s all he ever was to Tony, apparently. 

School starts again and they finally move into their own apartment, almost an hour away from their old one. And maybe, just maybe, Peter should have been more careful in a neighbourhood he doesn’t know yet. Maybe he should have read the news and followed his suspects for a while before starting to fight. But every time he webs up a criminal, every time he hears a thank you from someone he saved, it feels like he’s proving Tony wrong. 

So Peter keeps doing it, studying by day, fighting crime in the evenings, and sometimes he is so exhausted that he actually manages to sleep through the rest of the night without any dreams. He’s tired, and he’s reckless, and he’s doing the exact opposite of what Tony has asked him to. But that’s just one more reason not to pick up Happy’s calls. 

*

Tony doesn’t hear Rhodey approaching from the right with his bad ear, so by the time he realises that his friend has found him, it’s already too late to escape. 

Rhodey cuts straight to the point. “When Pep told me she couldn’t find you, I thought you’d have escaped to the workshop or be out flying around with the suit. But this worries me almost more.” 

Tony looks up from the box he’s been bent over at an awkward angle from the side of his wheelchair, packing screwdrivers and bolts. It’s a wheelchair day, of course, as were all the days in the past week. And the one before that, as Pepper kindly pointed out this morning. 

“Why?” Tony retorts. “Didn’t you all tell me it was a good choice to retire?”

“Retire from being Iron Man, yeah. But Tony Stark not tinkering? What the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing left to tinker with,” he says simply. “And I’ve got more time for Morgan this way.”

“Tony, I’m not buying it,” Rhodey says with a huff. “Just because you got some memory problems? I mean, there’s gotta be an easy way around that. You can programme FRIDAY to remind you of everything important, you can- ”

“I know,” Tony cuts him off. He’s done that, of course - first thing after the bathing incident. He doesn’t leave the house anymore without an earpiece connected to FRIDAY’s server, and has programmed her to alert him of the tiniest things he might forget. But it doesn’t help. He can’t explain the feeling of inadequacy, of constant fear that he’s missed something important, something vital, something that is going to put everyone he loves in danger. He can’t trust his brain, and thus, he can’t trust himself with anything he’ll build.

“What about your arm?” Rhodey asks. “I thought you were making a prosthesis.”

“Not a big loss,” Tony says with a shrug. “One is more than enough for cooking and reading bedtime stories.”

“And the spider kid’s suit?” 

Tony stiffens and sticks his chin out slightly. “What about it?”

“I’m not dumb, Tony. The reason we pulled off the whole time heist in the first place was because the only way you could get over your survivor’s guilt was to either bring the kid back or die trying.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Tony scowls.

“Yeah, and now?” Rhodey demands. “You’re just gonna let him get killed by a random thug on the street because he doesn’t have a proper suit?”

“It’s not -” Tony breaks off, inhaling sharply. “I’ve got him monitored, okay? And he’s supposed to get in touch with Cap’s feathery friend. I just - I can’t do this mentoring thing - not anymore. It’s just not feasible.”

“And why would that be? Wouldn’t it be better if you were looking after him as best you can instead of completely shutting yourself off? Wouldn’t it be better if-”

Tony cuts him off, “Maybe it would have been better if I’d just died during the snap.”

There’s a sudden silence. Rhodey’s eyes keep holding Tony’s steadily while he slowly shakes his head, but Tony can see the sadness contained in them. He already regrets that he said it out loud, his stupid mouth running ahead of him and spilling out what nobody was supposed to ever hear, but it’s too late now, always too late. 

“Nobody wants that, Tony. And I don’t think you do either.” Rhodey swallows, then goes on in a softer tone. “You think you’re useless like this, but you’re not. Not to anyone. You’re way too absorbed in mourning what you lost to understand what all we gained.”

“I am seeing what I gained,” Tony insists, sounding almost desperate in his own ears. “I’ve got my family. This is what counts, not the tech I build. I am okay, Rhodes - stop giving me that kicked puppy look. I am fine.”

“Yeah,” Rhodey snorts, turning around to leave. “Convince yourself of that first.”

*

The warehouse is huge, filled with alien tech that definitely shouldn’t be being loaded into a stolen Joey’s Pizza van. There’s only two of them moving the product, and that should have probably made Peter think a bit more before jumping down from the ceiling with a “Boo!” and webbing the two men’s hands to the pillars. The tech they’re stealing is emitting a constant low-pitched hum and that’s messing with Peter’s senses, which probably should have been yet another reason to wait before he engaged. 

But it’s been four nights and 20 hours of sleep in total, and the paparazzi published a picture of Morgan Stark’s first day of school today, showing a worn-out looking Tony with sunglasses waving to her out of the open car window. The headline read “Shocking Revelation: Iron Man Too Weak to Walk His Daughter to the Classroom Door?!” 

Flash showed Peter the magazine with a raised eyebrow, casually commenting, “Guess that’s it for your Stark internship, huh?” Peter flipped him off, but the rest of the day he just felt empty.

“Resistance is futile!” Peter shouts at the criminals while webbing their feet to the pillars for good measure. Then he fumbles for his phone in the suit pocket in order to call the police, and that’s when his whole body explodes into pain. It feels as if every single one of his cells is individually being hit with a baseball bat. His knees give out under him, and while falling, he can see the sardonic smile of a woman with a taser stepping out of the shadows. 

“I’ve never liked spiders,” she announces. Then Peter’s head hits the floor with a thud and he blacks out gratefully. 

*

“Boss.” 

“Boss.”

“Boss.”

“What?” Tony jerks awake at his work desk, his heart hammering up into his throat. “What - What did I miss, Fri? What did I do?”

“You did nothing wrong, boss. But I thought you might want to be informed that Peter Parker hasn’t returned from his nightly patrol. He is four hours past his usual curfew.”

“The kid? What? Where is he?” 

“I cannot say this for sure, but security footage saw him entering a warehouse in Brooklyn at 9pm. A Joey’s Pizza van left from there an hour later, which has now reached the following location.” She displays a map with a highlighted area in the upstate region. “This warehouse is not an official Joey’s Pizza property.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Tony mutters. “Are there any security cameras inside the building?”

“Negative, boss. However, I can locate Mr. Parker’s smartphone in a two-mile radius of the warehouse. It makes sense to assume that he is being held inside.”

“Is he injured?” 

“I can’t tell from the data I have. It seems that Mr. Parker is not currently using any of the suits you made for him.”

Of course he isn’t. Tony feels a surge of self-hatred rising in his chest, together with the all-too-familiar guilt. He should have known Peter wouldn’t play it safe. He should have checked on him much earlier. There’s a whole laundry list of shoulds and woulds for him to deal with later, but right now, he doesn’t have time for that. He needs to get Peter out of there. 

“FRIDAY, inform Rhodey. Get him there ASAP.”

“Doing so as we speak, sir. However, Colonel Rhodes is currently in New Jersey and will take approximately 40 minutes to reach the location.”

“Shit,” Tony mutters. “What about Falcon?” 

“Mr. Wilson is on a visit to Wakanda.”

Tony curses under his breath. He scours the map again, then racks his brain for anyone else he might call. But, honestly, who is he kidding? The decision has already been made. 

“Boss-” FRIDAY begins when he pushes himself out of the wheelchair and reaches for his crutch, breathing through the headrush that comes with standing up too quickly. 

“Save it, FRI. I need a suit.”

The AI directs him to the cabinet where he stores his nano housing units. The Mark 85 would have been a better choice, but he hasn’t even tried locating it since coming home after the battle. For all he knows, its pieces are still lying somewhere on the field of rubble that used to be the Avengers Compound. 

The armour envelopes him with a feeling that is both familiar and strange, like coming back to a childhood home. It also hurts. The suit is doing most of the work for him, but the sheer strain of being upright without a crutch is a lot, and the extra weight on his legs and back is enough to have him panting by the time he staggers to the garage exit.

“Fuck,” he breathes when his vision clouds up from the effort. “This is not working.”

“Sir, Colonel Rhodes is already on his way. I advise you to wait -”

“Stop it.” Tony takes a deep breath to drown out the rising panic. “FRIDAY, is there any morphine around?” 

“That is not a wise idea, boss.”

“Come on, we’re running out of time!” 

The AI silently lights up a path through the cardboard boxes littering the ground to a medicine cabinet on the other end of the garage. Tony finds the morphine and injects himself with a dose as high as he dares without his mind getting fuzzy. He needs to think clearly now. 

The relief is instantaneous. The pain is still there, but it’s muted enough that he can walk out of the house and take off relatively steadily.

*

It takes Tony less than ten minutes to reach the old warehouse. By the time he touches down, he is severely lightheaded, but the adrenaline and morphine are holding him together just enough that he doesn’t fall over. He makes a quick detour to the back of the building and then blasts himself through the front door (“Here’s my plan: attack”) because time is a sensitive factor, and frankly, he doesn’t have any better ideas. 

He takes the first guy out before the man even has time to react. The second one jumps behind the van that is parked in the middle of the large hall and starts to shoot at Tony with something that is emitting blue energy sparks and is definitely not legal. Tony takes cover behind a pillar (while definitely not leaning against it) and breathes for a moment, surveilling the scene. 

Peter is being held in the back of the warehouse. They put him in a cage - a fucking cage with enhanced security that Tony constructed years ago when they were fighting alien wolves in Central Park, and this fact alone makes his insides burn with rage. The kid is apparently unconscious, chained to the bars with handcuffs way above his head, which appear to be the only thing currently holding him upright. There’s blood on his face that seems to stem from a wound on his head where he must have been beaten, but it’s dried. FRIDAY informs him that the kid is breathing, thank god. 

The guy with the electric gun is situated between Tony and the kid, so he’s gotta deal with him first. “FRIDAY, I want a big boom in twenty seconds,” he instructs. 

“Timer set, boss,” the AI replies into his good ear. 

Tony steps out from his shelter into plain view, ignoring the exhaustion weighing him down. He fires a series of blasts that tear through the walls of the van, causing the vehicle to skid towards the right side of the building. He can hear a curse and then the sound of hasty footsteps as the man runs towards the backdoor, trying not to be crushed by the vehicle, and that’s exactly where Tony wants him to be. 

“Hey, asshole!” he shouts. “Come out of your rabbit hole and show your face!”

The man cocks his electric gun. “Iron Man, what a surprise. The papers say you’ve retired? Shouldn’t you -”

Tony never gets to know what it is he should be doing, because that’s when the bomb he planted outside the back door blows up with a satisfactory boom. The man is blown off his feet just as he shoots a blast of light blue energy at Tony, flying a dozen feet through the air. Tony doesn’t hear the thud when he hits the ground because he’s too busy getting out of the line of fire. He almost succeeds, but it’s not enough. The blast catches him at the side, sending him stumbling blindly back into the pillar. 

“Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark, please! Can you hear me? Tony!”

Tony isn’t sure at first whether he is actually hearing the kid’s voice or it’s just a memory conjured by his hazy mind. His good ear is ringing, the other one gone completely deaf. There are sparks of white dancing in his field of vision and the suit is pretty much the only thing holding him upright now. He turns slowly, staggering on the spot, and yes, the kid is awake, thank god, though he is barely holding himself upright. 

Through the haze, Tony can see that Peter is signalling something to him, frantically nodding his head at something behind Tony. “What?” Tony shouts, his own voice sounding weirdly far away. 

“-one more,” he can make out, and then it clicks. Tony raises his gun-arm and spins around, just as the woman crashes into him full force. The impact is more than enough to make him lose his balance completely. He hears shots while they tumble to the ground, feels something hit his helmet, his vision blacking out completely. He fires blindly, repeatedly sending out electroshocks until the body on top of him goes limb. 

Then Tony breathes, in, out, pain coursing through his body like acid, his head throbbing as if it’s being hit with a hammer. He can’t really feel his right leg, but the pain in the rest of his body is more than making up for it. It’s not as bad as the snap - nothing ever was as bad as the snap, that was a million on a scale of one to ten - but it’s enough to let him know that any movement in the coming few minutes will most likely result in him passing out. 

So Tony listens to his own breaths until he is sure he’ll stay awake. Then he turns, slowly, and rolls over onto his side until the woman’s body slides off him. He opens his eyes. His HUD is obscured with blood, so he opens that as well and finally gets to look at the kid.

Peter is crying, the tears that are running from his eyes slowly mixing with the blood on his cheeks. The moment his gaze meets Tony’s, relief blooms on his face. “You’re alive,” he breathes. 

“Yeah,” Tony croaks. He isn’t sure whether his voice is loud enough to travel to the kid, so he says it again, convincing himself. “Yeah, I’m alive. And so are you, kid.”

“Can you -” Peter takes a hitching breath, almost a sob, “Can you get me out, please?” His hands wriggle in the handcuffs. It must be painful, because his expression turns into a grimace and he stops again.

“Yeah,” Tony reassures, then adds, “Just hold on. You’re fine, kid, you’re okay,” because Peter has started to cry again and looks seconds away from a breakdown now. 

Tony pushes himself up on his arm. He gets one leg under him, then the next, and kneels there on the floor in his own blood. That’s as far as he gets before his strength leaves him and he slumps back, barely managing to stabilise himself. The world spins around him as if he’s on a fucking merry-go-around, the dizziness so overwhelming that he’s afraid he might throw up. Peter calls his name, and Tony tries again to get up - tries, and tries, and tries - but there’s a rushing in his ears that makes it clear this is a battle he isn’t going to win. 

“Sir? Tony, please?” Peter sounds panicked.

And that’s what it comes down to. Tony, on his knees, mere metres away from the kid who is calling out for him, yet unable to reach him. He just isn’t strong enough. And this is it, this is the hard and cold reality, the true reason why he kept away from Peter for so long. Because when it truly counts, he is bound to fail him. 

“I, I can’t get up.” Tony’s voice breaks when he finally admits it out loud, “I can’t, kid. I’m sorry.” It feels like he is saying so much more than that, and he wants to tell him, wants to explain how fucking much it hurts to fail him, once all across the universe and now again, and it seems like he can feel the dust coating his fingers once more. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, his cheeks feeling damp. “I am so, so sorry, Peter.”

“It’s - it’s okay,” Peter mumbles through sobs, but Tony knows it is not. 

And this is how Rhodey finds them when he storms into the warehouse fifteen minutes later. Tony must have closed his eyes at some point in time, because it takes him a bit to react when his friend shakes his shoulder. 

“Tony, thank god,” Rhodey says when Tony blinks up at him, the look on his face somewhere between relief and anger. “Why the fuck didn’t you wait for me?” 

“You know why,” is all Tony says. “How’s the kid-” 

“Oh god, Mr. Stark, Tony, are you alright?” Peter is walking towards him with an emergency blanket draped around his shoulders. He’s sort of unsteady on his feet and fresh tears are springing from his eyes when he kneels down next to Tony. “You, you sort of faded out, and I was so scared and I couldn’t get out of that cage and then I was thinking of the battlefield again, and -”

“Shh, it’s okay.” Tony didn’t think he’d have the strength to move and get out of the armour, but the sobbing kid in front of him gives him new energy. “FRIDAY, open up,” he murmurs. The nanobots retract and form a shield behind his back. Tony is grateful because he isn’t sure whether he’d be able to sit upright under his own power. 

“Come ’ere, kid,” he says softly. Peter gives him a doubtful look, so Tony opens his arm and pulls him towards him. The kid leans his head against Tony’s chest, crying harder now, tears soaking Tony’s shirt.

“You’re okay,” Tony murmurs, just like he would when Morgan would come to him in the middle of the night, scared of monsters. “You’re okay, kid.”

“I f’cked up,” Peter sniffles. “I, I should have listened to you, I’m sorry- ”

“No,” Tony says firmly. “No kid, you didn’t. I fucked up. I fucked this up epically.”

“You saved the whole universe,” Peter protests through his sniffling. “You brought me back from the dead! And then you retired, but you still came here and saved me when I needed you.”

“But I couldn’t save you all the way,” Tony says quietly. He takes a deep breath, feeling his heart beat hard and fast in his chest. Time to be honest.

“Listen, kid. The snap messed up my brain.” He holds up a hand when Peter starts to protest. “No, I mean, quite literally. It doesn’t work as well as before. I...I forget things. I make mistakes - silly mistakes, dangerous mistakes. I didn’t...I didn’t think I could take care of you anymore. And tonight proved me right. But it wasn’t your fault, and I should have made that clear to you. I’m sorry, Peter, I should have told you.”

It feels weird to admit it to the boy what he hasn’t really been able to even acknowledge himself. Saying it out loud gives it an air of finality. 

This should be the end, then. Giving up comes almost as a relief. 

But then Peter gazes up at him with a look as if Tony had just said something incredibly stupid. “But I don’t want anyone else,” the kid sniffs. “I only want you as my mentor. I don’t care if your brain works or not. You just saved me, you came all the way here, and you - just, please, don’t go away again, okay?”

And sometimes the universe has weird ways of letting you heal. Sometimes it takes months of falling before you hit the ground, hard. And sometimes you need to feel the impact, really feel it, before you can start to pick yourself up again. 

Tony looks at the kid in his arms, and he makes a decision.

“Okay,” he whispers. He pulls Peter closer and holds him through the weakness and the pain that encompass them both. “I promise.”

*

“Again! Do it again!” Morgan giggles.

Peter looks over at Tony, who raises his arm high into the air and gives him a nod, then Peter taps the instructions into the Starkpad. There’s a quiet pop sound from the bionic arm and a moment later sparkling fireworks erupt from it into the night sky, the red and gold reflecting magnificently on the surface of the lake. Morgan cheers and claps, and Peter feels a smile spread over his face. 

“Again! Again!” the little girl demands, jumping up and down impatiently.

“Enough for today. Daddy’s tired, Morgan,” Pepper says firmly.

“But-” 

Pepper gives her a stern look. “Why don’t we go inside and ask Uncle Happy to read you a story?”

“Okayyyyy,” Morgan pouts.

Peter turns his head towards his mentor. Tony does look exhausted and kind of in pain - Peter knows that the prosthesis hurts him whenever he wears it for too long - but there’s a warm shine to his working eye that Peter hasn’t seen before. He looks… at peace, in a way. 

They make to follow Pepper and Morgan back to the house, Tony a little unsteady on his feet. “You okay?” Peter asks quietly so as not to alert Morgan, offering an arm to his mentor.

“Yeah,” Tony reassures, but then, after a moment of hesitation, he takes the arm and leans a bit of weight onto it. “What about you, kid?”

And Peter has to think for a bit, wondering about where his life could have gone and what it has actually turned out to be. He thinks of the battle and the nightmares and the hours in the cage and of Tony on his knees, unable to reach him. 

Then he watches the last sparkles sink into the lake, followed by a loud “ohhhhh” from Morgan, and turns back to his mentor.

“Yeah,” he replies firmly, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

__________

All my fics

Taglist: @toomuchtoread33  @yepokokfine

@badthingshappenbingo - This is my prompt fill for the square “Cry into Chest”.

[nozomijoestar]

I kinda burned myself out with how hard I focused on these two months ago that it took this long to pick up again. I had an impulse to see them stargaze and then of course it turned into making myself cry ahaha

Once again they’re on the road because I couldn’t think of a better setting but that’s not important; its about the feelings

Trish inspected her nails with the eye of a professional. Night sky or no, nothing, nothing, interrupted her beauty checks. The moon had risen to its peak; the light confirmed her suspicion. She sighed. Her colored polish had degraded from smooth to a ragged patchwork. Oh well, there were worse things to worry about. She looked toward the road behind her. Empty. For some reason her stomach sank. All at once her body tensed to hold itself for danger that took its time. That was the worst kind. Your mind split from your control at the worry the enemy instilled on their own pace. They didn't need to always attack, wait long enough and she'd do it to herself. Trish swallowed hard and breathed out. The night insects kept singing. A few paces ahead Mista lost himself in stretches as he should; his insistence to 'Get off his ass a bit' had dragged them out to Nowheresville, population pending. Buccellati and the rest had gathered around their car. Abbaccio crouched studying Coco Jumbo; which meant poking and prodding and holding the turtle while its legs flailed. She sighed. At least this time she was outside the poor thing. Trish squinted at them through the darkness. Narancia was missing. Of course he was. If you stopped a road trip for so much as a yawn, he'd disappear no doubt slacking off till he wandered back. It was a rule; it was as natural as the wind. Trish wondered how the boy hadn't been born a cat. He had the fickleness down already; time to find him anyway. That was another of nature's laws. He got lost sure, but no matter how she grumbled there she went guiding him back. The grass reached her knees and clung like dozens of pushing hands. Not a tree stood for kilometers; at this distance the moon grew overwhelming. Narancia lay on the grass that'd molded around his body as if it were his bed. His head rested on his crossed arms; Trish would never understand how he did it. How could one person embody freedom? How did he do it when his heart roared in a storm he'd bound emotions to years ago? She should know by now unraveling all of him was no better than holding the breeze. Trish knew he heard her coming. It was the walk he liked to say. Easy as breathing her feet fell into a rich girl's stride. Confident, precise, expectant- Trish wished those were still things she knew instead of their shells. She took a deep breath. No time for that now. Narancia turned his head as she sat. The feel of his eyes made her heart pound for something not worrisome. God, he still didn't know whenever he did that. It was annoying at how easy, it was grounding in a world where up was down and down up. He had her smiling, smiling! And it felt liberating. "There's a bunch of 'em out tonight. You got a favorite?" She looked up and awe drowned the remainders of her gloom. Stars beyond counting dotted the sky; each speck burned to outdo the others. On a clear night they went on and on stretched beyond the horizon. Her eyes snapped to one set with ease. "Orion." "Huh?" "The constellation. Haven't you heard of it?" "Uh, well not really...wasn't around class long enough for that." His eyes flit anywhere but her face; his voice had trailed into something meek. Trish held back a 'Damnnit of course not.' to put her chin on her knees. You didn't ask stuff like that to people who never got past third grade. "Well it's ok Narancia, I'll just teach you a little. That alright?" He sat up to give her his full attention. A grin on his face told her everything was fine. God at this point Trish could do just about anything to him and he'd accommodate; follow and roll over like some dog for her. The realization of power made her queasy not for the first time. That was part of knowing him, being with him. At least for now. She smiled back. "Ok then go on and look at the sky. It always looks like a bunch of stuff smashed together at first. That's where the fun starts. The harder you look eventually you'll find what feels like it's going against the flow; like its part of something all its own." "Hmm...I guess. Geez people must have some killer eyes and nothin' to do all day- y'know, to do this right!" He added the last bit before her frown had settled. With an awkward laugh he mussed his hair. "Alright alright, so I look for the ones that stand out. That's easy. Aerosmith!-" "No Stands. By yourself sure but not with me ok?" "Huh? Why's that- oh..." Trish scooted closer to wrap her arms around his. She rested her head on his shoulder and grinned when he swallowed in awe. A blush colored his face. "Keep going." "Okay. So let's see uhh...there! That one is like a tiny sun. And there's smaller ones that look like they're followin' it an'...a triangle, I think." "That's Sirius, one half of the dog constellations. It's super bright I'm not surprised you found it first." Trish said with a chuckle. "Hey a minute ago I didn't know any of 'em. It ain't bad for a first try." "Liar I did mention Orion." "Oh yeah. Well s'not like I actually saw it. What makes you like that one? Is it cool?" She stared at him in way of open affection no words could capture. It was honesty; it was pure to at last be under a gaze that wouldn't vanish. He could hear her sure, but goddamn if his mind wasn't half lost in savoring what it felt to mean something. To be someone. He tucked a loose hair behind her ear; Trish kept right on though now she smiled again. "A lot of people like Orion since most think its in the shape of a hunter. Y'know, strong and reliable and protective. Things a lot of people want to be; at least to me anyway. I'm not all that different." She again gazed at the sky yet now in the moonlight her profile took on a serene determination. He knew then that he'd be one of the handful in a lifetime to see it. Narancia couldn't help his stillness; the urge that came from somewhere he didn't know to feel humbled. She continued as though she noticed nothing. There was passion in her voice no matter how casual her words. "When I find it at night or even in pictures, mom comes back. Just for a moment, just long enough for me to start crying. I see her in my head and I remember and it's like...like I'm watching my past while I hold my breath then- then it's gone before I can really understand it. The one thing to stay is feeling for a second as if none of this ever happened. As if I'm still back home and she's cooking before calling for me to help. It's...it's so safe." Tears had fallen as she uttered the final words; her tone drifted far, far away and he knew she'd stopped talking to him. Silently Narancia hugged her and welcomed his own, gentler cry. A minute passed where only the wind spoke as it brushed the grass. He could swear her heart raced and skirted danger. When he breathed deep however, it could've well been him. As with many things Trish took the lead and broke the quiet. "I wish I could be Orion. I wish my mom would give it a rest already." Her voice still hadn't recovered its confidence. She leaned into him in search of grasping it once more. "Trish...you are. That time on the plane to Sardegna, you were by yourself and you still got us outta there. I don't wanna think about getting thrown into that meat thing's mouth. A-and I don't have to thanks to you!" Their eyes met this time with an intensity neither could name. Trish shook her head while she rubbed his hand; the roughness that marked his body hadn't pierced who he really was, that kindness he breathed readier than air. Not for the gang alone did he slip into it. For them it was short sighs between the snarls when attitudes clashed. It was like he feared to release it always, to embrace it. But not for her, for her he never hesitated. That was the boy she loved most. He kept chatting and slurred his words as they fought to arrange themselves. She realized how much he noticed in ways she'd been too occupied to see. All the same she interrupted him with a finger on his lips. Trish brushed aside his bangs and spoke again of those things he alone had permission for. "Every time I think I'm getting closer to who I can be, I slide a few steps back. That's all." He wouldn't understand in a way he could yet articulate. She'd long come to accept that. The energy to his eyes took the place of fancy descriptions. He knew it too; it sat as the deepest pain beneath everything. People were participants on life's slippery slope until one day you died. She guessed, in the end, what mattered was which step you'd left on. Forward, or backward? Maybe her mother had stopped on backwards. Maybe she too would. Maybe instead as she studied his face and felt his life beside hers, maybe she wouldn't. And just maybe she could keep him from falling too. "Narancia, kiss me." He did softly and filled with unspoken things. In the now he was here and so was she. She was being silly; this moment was all that mattered. The echoes of shouting in the distance broke them apart. The calls of their names from the others pulled her back to reality. They were on a mission; their lives were fleeting and perishable. It churned her stomach and she reached to embrace Narancia one more time. He was warm despite the night chill. Her fingers dug into his hair as she whispered. "You're safe too." "I...same here Trish." He squeezed her afraid to let go but soon did so anyway. They helped each other stand and refused to let their hands separate. Together they ran towards their friends and answered their calls. They moved forward, ever forward.