#been thinking about space funeral again lately... what a good game... it's what got me really into weird rpgmaker games...

[virusinfected-memes]

TIK TOK SENTENCE STARTERS, PT. 2 ;

85 starters. CW: cussing, sexual themes, violence. Some starters are just random quotes from Tik Tok creators, some starters are from Tik Tok trends that have popped up over the past year or so. The original sources of these trends are from various memes, shows, songs, and other popular media. Feel free to change words and pronouns as needed! [PART 1]

“Is it cursed? Let’s find out!”

“Will you be the best man at my funeral?”

“You better believe I love me like a friend!”

“Say you’ll give me all of you.”

“It’s just you that I mess with.”

“You must break the pattern today or the loop will repeat tomorrow.”

“The space I long for no longer fits me.”

“I’m glad you brought it up, ‘cause I’ve been dying to talk about it for a fucking hot minute.”

“Please don’t call me an eyesore when you literally look like a discontinued Cabbage Patch Kid.”

“I’m feeling like I did too much.”

“What kind of fuckery is this?”

“You’re coming home with me!”

“Keep about your wits.”

“Lord, give me one more chance.”

“Reminder that your boyfriend’s built like a bitch.”

“Oh my god, what is that...? OH MY GOD. WHAT IS THAT?”

“Who got you smilin’ like that, like...?”

“I pick my poison and it’s you.”

“Hey man, this look pretty good, man... Where your clothes at?”

“I don’t know what drugs you took this morning, but this is unacceptable behavior.”

“Sometimes I gotta beat the ladies off with a stick.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m so blue all the time.”

“And if you wonder if I hate you, I do.”

“I think you’re such a hottie.”

“If I let you touch my body, will you stay?”

“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

“You are my soul’s home.”

“I pray to the heavens above that I dream of you.”

“I can still feel your touch on my skin.”

“You kinda’ smell... like a baka.”

“You know I can’t make it on my own.”

“This is your daily reminder to go seek revenge on any motherfucker who’s ever hurt you. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“And I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best, though it never felt right.”

“He really tried to stop Michael Myers with a fire hose.”

“‘Evil dies tonight’ is exactly what I say to the pharmacist every time I buy a morning-after pill.”

“Ahh, you mad!”

“I could fix him.”

“Maybe I’m cringe.”

“I like watching you watch cartoons in my room.”

“I ain’t mad, bitch. Look where you’re working at.”

“You mad, ahhh! Look where you’re eatin’ at!”

“Not to be dramatic, but I wanna die.”

“I’m not feeling very fly like a G6.”

“So your plan is posting memes until someone falls in love with you. You’re so pathetic, did you know that?”

“You know we’ll have to go out there at some point...”

“Why can’t everyone just go away? Except you, you can stay.”

“Do you ever think of the things you’ve ruined?”

“Being away from you is like Hell, but so is being next to you.”

“You have stolen my heart.”

“So can I call you tonight?”

“Literally, fuck your zodiac sign. I do not judge people based off the month they were born, their personality, my previous interactions with them, or really anything else. I judge them off one thing and one thing only: who they pick in Smash Bros.”

“My dog could beat a dinosaur.”

“I’m probably gonna tell on you if you say that again.”

“I kinda’ hate you, kinda’ love you, kinda’ wish I was you.”

“All this time spent hating on me could be used to improve your looks, your personality, your life.”

“Don’t you feel... silly? Don’t you feel... stupid?”

“I support women’s rights, but most importantly, I support women’s wrongs.”

“What are you doing in my house?!”

“Your standards are so low we done gave them things a funeral.”

“It’s hard to stay humble when your haters look like extras off Coraline.”

“What are you still trying to prove to yourself?”

“Have I told you lately I’m grateful you’re mine?”

“See, this is why I don’t play this game anymore.”

“Damn, girl... You fucked up.”

“Can’t spell funeral without fun!”

“You just don’t get it. You’ve already forgotten even though I just said it.”

“Maybe someday we will be two people meeting again for the first time.”

“Do you think we can make it the whole day without you doing something bad?”

“You look just like a dream.”

“You’ve got your demons and they all look like me.”

“Is it better to speak or to die?”

“My booty cheeks are, like, clenched.”

“I don’t know what you think I’ve done, but if we were to battle, I’ve already won.”

“I’ve played enough scary games to know that something evil is coming out of that dark hole.”

“Who wanna be girl best friends with an undeniable romantic tension that neither of us will ever address until eventually we have an inexplicably emotional friendship breakup and then never speak to each other again?”

“You very much need something to do in a zombie apocalypse. Why not fornicate? I’m just saying, ain’t nothing else to do... Besides be alive. Survive.”

“Please don’t come over here. You don’t see me. You see all this ass though. But you don’t see me.”

“If this don’t make you a believer of the paranormal, I don’t know what will.”

“Barely two words in and you already look like you want me dead.”

“You’ve changed. You’re getting weak.”

“Last time I was comfortable was in the womb. Just been disappointment since.”

“If it makes you happy, it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else.”

“I’ve killed for you. Who else can say that?”

“I made this friendship bracelet for you.”

“Everybody wants to be my enemy.”

[takamishinko]

footprints and doubts

this is the longest piece we’ve written so far and it drained the living crap out of us :,D but hope u guys enjoy !

pronouns: gender neutral 

warnings: nothing really other than jealousy, angst, and crying, self thought cheating

a/n: r/n is region name btw

________________________________________________________________

honestly you found it hard to believe that little ol’ you from r/n could befriend let alone become someone important to ajax. the great tartaglia, 11th of the fatui harbingers, his name itself could strike fear into anyone. yet here you were, standing next to him with your hands intertwined with his at the lantern rite festival. you would give the world to him if you could, you loved him so much. he was so different from your last significant other who had been unfaithful towards you. 

‘you’re just too boring.’ they had told you apathetically. you frown thinking about it.

you felt ajax gave your hand a small tug, "hey y/n why don't we go over there? looks like chef mao is cooking up something good." he spoke with a cheery grin on his face.

you snap back into reality as you felt his hand pull you out of your thoughts. you gave him a terse nod and the two of you made your way to wanmin restaurant.

after waiting a while in line, the two of you were next. chef mao looked up and practically shat himself at the sight of the male next to you. 

“hello y/n! i hope you’ve been enjoying the festival, " chef mao spoke nervously, his eyes gliding to the male next to you, “y...you too sir childe.” he sputtered out. right, ajax was the one who tried to destroy liyue not too long ago after all. you shook your head, right now you were with ajax, not childe.

"woah woah woah. calm down chef, you know that’s history now. besides, i’m just here to enjoy the festival with y/n." ajax assured, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

you gave the chef a slight smile and spoke,"don’t worry chef. i’m sure he doesn’t have plans other than being with me tonight." you teased. 

the chef sighed in poorly concealed relief and returned to his usual self as he took your order. ajax ordered the specialty for today, the crystal shrimp. after a small wait, the two of you waved chef mao goodbye after he gave you two your food. the warm dish let out puffs of steam and glistened under all the light of the lanterns due to it's crystal clear skin, there were 4 in total, the wrapping for each was folded into the shape of a flower. they were so pretty, you almost felt bad for eating them. 

sitting down on a nearby bench, the two of you enjoyed the crystal shrimp while making small talk. the crystal shrimps were delicious themselves but it felt better to enjoy them with someone you loved. 

after finishing the food, you and ajax had a great time. you guys played a few rounds of theatre mechanics, ruijin was pleased at how skilled the two of you were and rewarded both of you with hefty prizes. upon bumping into zhongli, the three of you decided to enjoy some tea with him. after bidding farewell to the funeral consultant, the two of you released some xiao lanterns and watched as they floated into the night sky. 

feeling a bit tired, the two of you then decided to relax and take a walk instead of participating in games. as you and your boyfriend were strolling around the harbour, something, or someone caught his gaze. you look over to where his eyes were trailing to.

oh.

a beautiful young lady dressed in a white dress with a cecilia tucked into her golden blonde hair and a puffy companion floating by her side waved at ajax. her smile brighter than the sun and her movement as graceful as the moon. her honey glazed eyes shone with familiarity and glee at the sight of him.

of course you recognized this girl. she was none other than the otherworldly traveler, lumine. she fought alongside the liyue qixing and even the adepti to defeat the great osial. the people of liyue spoke about her often, everyone knew how she had also earned the title of honorary knight in mondstadt and defeated one of the four winds despite her young age. 

you were once again brought back into reality when ajax spoke, "hey babe ill be right back okay? i wanna catch up with lumine real quick." 

you felt his hand leave yours, the warmth dissipated with it. you felt an uncomfortable feeling bubble up as you watched your boyfriend run to someone else, leaving you alone by yourself to stand in the sea of lanterns and people. 

it didn't feel right.

you stayed in place with a dejected look for a while waiting for ajax to return but he was taking a while so you decided to go check what was going on with him.

"-but then teucer decided to do it anyway!” you hear ajax’s boyish voice ring out with amusement.

as the blond and the redhead laughed together. you couldn't help but think about the two looked enchanting with each other.

you shook your head and decided to make your presence known. "ajax-" 

ajax perked up, "oh! babe sorry to keep you waiting let me introduce you. lumine this is my partner y/n!" ajax exclaimed with a cute grin.

you gave lumine a small wave and spoke with a polite smile, "it's a pleasure to meet you lumine." 

"it’s nice to meet you too y/n.” lumine replied cheerfully.

now that you’ve got a better look at the blonde, she's so much more beautiful than you could have ever imagined. 

her velvety blonde hair fell gracefully, her porcelain skin was practically glowing without a single visible blemish, her golden eyes shone with beauty that rivaled cor lapis. to wrap it up, her short stature was presented with grace and poise. all in all, everything about the blonde was nothing less than perfection.

everyone loved her and you could understand the reason behind it very well. gorgeous, kind, and righteous, the hero of every region everyone respected. you couldn’t help but wish you were like her instead of your boring self, without a vision, without any standing out achievements either…

you started to space out while the two started up a conversation again, thinking about the feelings you were currently having. why were you feeling like this?

"hey babe we should get going! it's getting late." the voice of your lover broke you out of your thinking.

you were overthinking a lot today huh. "oh. we probably should get going then." 

"bye ajax! bye y/n! it was really nice meeting you." lumine said with a pearly smile gracing her features. she then walked off to find her floating companion who was near a food stall inhaling dish after dish of food.

wait.

ajax..? he wasn’t childe or tartaglia to her, but ajax. you didn't know how to feel upon hearing the real name of your boyfriend slip out of the blonde. you knew how secretive ajax could be when it came to his family and personal life so the fact that lumine knew his real name put a feeling of unease within you.

the way home was pretty quiet, you didn't want ajax to notice that you were feeling off. you felt so guilty for having these feelings about him and lumine but you couldn’t help it. your last relationship had practically trampled on your ability to trust others, you could never tell if someone was lying to you or being truthful. you contemplated telling him how you felt but you decided against it, you’ve never been great at expressing your feelings after all. however, after a while of him blabbing about random topics, you couldn’t curb your curiosity any longer and realized you wanted to know more about your lover's relationship between him and lumine.

after a while of peaceful silence, you let out a small breath, "hey ajax?"

“yes y/n?" 

"who is lumine… to you?"

ajax perked up at the sound of the blonde's name, "lumine? she's a good friend and a formidable opponent of course. it's been a while since i’ve fought with someone who could keep up with me on the battlefield!" ajax spoke with enthusiasm.

you felt a twinge of pain shoot into your heart at the tone that your lover used when speaking about the blonde. did he speak like that when he was talking about you? 

"oh… i see. she must be a very powerful person then." you replied with feigned glee.

ajax noticed that you were in low spirits, "why? is something wrong?" he questioned with slight worry.

"no! i'm alright. i was just curious because you two seemed… close." you lied. you weren't ok, but you didn't know how to tell him. probably because you didn't even know why you felt such-

envy 

that was what you were feeling. not petty jealousy or sadness, you were envious. envious of lumine. her beauty, her strength, her personality, everything. the feeling consumed every inch of your body and dyed you green. your insecurities swallowed you up and spit you out, rendering you vulnerable against the little demons that poked at your thoughts.

when the two of you got home and freshened up, ajax practically passed out the second he lied in bed with you. on the other hand, you stayed wide awake, stuck thinking about the way lumine and ajax interacted. the smiles, the laughter, the fond looks they gave each other plagued your mind, rendering you unable to sleep. after a while of staring blankly at the ceiling, you groaned and carefully lifted the sheets to not wake your lover and got out of bed to make yourself a cup of tea. you used the tea leaves you bought from pops kai, the calming properties of the tea always helped you when you felt down. 

"they're just friends, don't overthink it, just friends, just friends." you whispered to yourself, trying to give yourself a sense of reassurance. after finishing the tea you got back into bed,  it was hard but you eventually fell asleep next to your lover.

next morning, you were woken by the sound of your boyfriend walking around in the living room doing something. it was only around 7am so you were wondering why up so early as he usually woke up at 8. you groggily walked out of the bedroom.

ajax noticed you and smiled fondly at the cute sight of you rubbing your eyes. "good morning babe, did i wake you up? sorry about that, i was just getting ready to go train."

"oh. by yourself?" somehow, you had a feeling of where this conversation was headed.

"no, with lumine, we made a deal yesterday to go to yaoguang shore today to fight some ruin guards and hunters for materials!" he chuckled.

lumine. lumine

the name echoed in your mind like a mantra. you were aware of his weekly spars with the blonde but today would be the second day he went out with her this week. a part of your heart told you to stop him, another part told you to let him go. in this internal battle, you chose the latter and let him go. after all, who were you to stop him? it's not like you could be the one to satisfy his thirst for battle, only someone like lumine could.

you were having a day off due to the lantern rite festival, but to be honest it's not like you needed the money. with the amount of money ajax had he could probably support you and your next 4 generations. with your spare day, you decided to clean up the house because it was a bit messy due to teucer playing around the day before. 

while cleaning up you found a spare xiao lantern that teucer was supposed to release when he came over. since you had spare time you decided to set another lantern yourself, it would be a waste to not use it after all. as people say, during the lantern rites, put your wish into a lantern and set it into the sky for it to become true. 

"i wish to stay with ajax, till death does us apart." 

you only hoped he felt the same way about you.

you put the note in the xiao lantern and set it off into the sky, you watched with sentiment as it floated away towards the clear blue sky.

you had a hard time focusing on the task you were doing for the rest of your day so you decided to take your mind off things and go take a look around liyue harbour to see if there was anything worth checking out, or buying. 

liyue harbour contained the usual, the fragrance of grilled tiger fish wafting from the stand next to where you would usually buy your groceries, the kids messing around near the boats, and you even met xiangling who tried to offer you her new recipe of jade parcels but you kindly refused. 

after that you went to give the adorable little pharmacist, qiqi, a visit. she was under the  cashier stand like usual, you gave her a little pat on the head and asked for the usual medicine you buy for ajax. 

you then bumped into zhongli, who was also strolling around. the two of you chattered about the festival and other shenanigans before bidding each other farewell. the amount of history about liyue and its traditions the man was familiar with would never fail to surprise you.

there wasn’t really anything left for you to do in the harbour so you started to head back home. not far away from the liuli pavilion you saw a familiar redhead talking to the owner of mingxing jewelry with a shorter figure standing beside him. 

upon closer inspection, you noticed it was ajax with someone else at a jewelry shop looking at the items. it was none other than lumine standing next to him. you watched as lumine picked out a piece of jewelry from the stand that would look so well on her. the gem glowed it’s colour under her smile and looked more fitting than ever. weren’t they supposed to be at yaoguang shore?

without second thought ajax bought the jewelry in lumines hand and put it in a gift bag with a look of tenderness. your heart dropped to the pits of your stomach, you felt as if the world was crashing down on you. your breathing quickened and your heart palpitated at alarming rates. every little insecurity that was planted in you had finally finished blooming. was this really going to happen to you a second time? was once not enough for the entertainment of the gods?

that was when he saw you, standing only a little bit away from him holding the items you purchased for him and the fresh groceries you were going to use to cook dinner for him.

ajax’s eyes widened in surprise upon seeing you, “y/n!? why are you he-” he was tense, you noticed, just like your ex-lover when they were caught.

you tried to regulate your breathing and spoke, “stop.” you managed to say, cutting off ajax before he could finish his sentence. he flinched at your dull tone.

“y/n! i know what you’re thinking but i promise we were just-” ajax hurriedly tries to explain.

“don’t. i think i've seen enough childe.” he frowned at the use of his moniker. 

your lips trembled, water collecting at the bottom of your eyes. ‘don’t cry. don’t cry, don’t cry.’ you repeated in your head, you didn’t want to appear weak in front of the two. your ajax who you loved so much, who you cared for so much, who you were planning to spend the rest of your life with, is now buying jewelry for someone else after lying to you.

“i was foolish this entire time, of course. instead of someone like me, a visionless nobody you would choose her over me. you’re just like-” your voice cracked as you forced the words out of your tightened throat. 

“y/n it’s not like that! please just let me explain!” ajax pleaded urgently. he hated that you were talking bad about yourself.

after gaining a smidge of composure you decided you couldn’t be near the two, “no need childe, i understand. now if you’ll excuse me, i'll be on my way.” you muttered and brushed past the two. 

“wait y/n!-” he reached out to grab your arm before the blonde next to him stopped him.

lumine sighed and spoke up after staying silent, “let them go for now. leave them alone for a bit, they need some time to think. it’s understandable why someone would be upset if they saw their lover with someone else like this.” she comforted before patting him on the back.

“yeah. i guess you’re right...” ajax murmured with a crestfallen look. he regretted not communicating with you, otherwise this wouldn’t have happened. he should’ve cleared up any suspicions you had and reassured you. he knew about how you weren’t confident due to your last relationship. gods, he felt like he was worse than your dirtbag of an ex.

you walked towards your home slowly trying to process what just happened. your tears already ran dry and you didn’t think more were able to escape from your eyes. the fading sunset seemed so blurry yet peaceful. somehow, instead of walking home, you ended up near yaoguang shore which happened to be the spot you and ajax would go to often. his name brought bitter feelings back as you remember the events that just happened but you took a deep breath and sat on the sand across from the shore. you listened to the sound of the ocean, the waves dousing the sand it touched. you took notice of the starconches laying on the sand. 

feelings of melancholy welled up inside you. these are ajax’s favourites. the blue shells reminded you of his eyes. his lovely eyes were the blue of the waves of the sea, they crashed into you and pulled you into them. you could spend all day swimming in the infinite hues until you drowned.

you buried your head onto your knees and let out a pained cry you’ve been holding in. here, where no one can find you, where no one can hear you. only the ocean will hear your troubles and worries, you hoped it could wash them away and you could forget about them forever. you sat there in peace by yourself for what felt like hours.

you sighed and decided that you should get going, but to where? you didn’t want to see ajax if he’s even going to be there at all. maybe you could crash at zhongli’s place…

 just as you were about to leave you heard a familiar voice behind your back. “y/n!” it was the man you loved, ajax, sprinting to you with the same gift bag he was holding in his hands at mingxing jewelry. 

you turned around to look at him. your hair was flowing in the wind with the sunset behind your back. to ajax it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his life. 

“i knew you’d be here.” ajax spoke with relief.

you looked away from him not knowing how to feel right now about your “lover” and stayed silent.

“y/n. i swear it wasn’t what it looked like, i would never do that to you. lumine and i really don’t have anything going on in between us, i chose you as my partner and i plan on keeping it that way for the rest of my life. in fact,” ajax murmured while opening up the gift bag he was holding. it was a bracelet with a fine piece of noctilucous jade in the middle with cor lapis fragments decorating the border of the blue gem. the jewelry wafted with fragrances, the morning dew smell from a qingxin, the classical smell of the harbour from a silk flower and lastly the everlasting aroma of violet grass.  

“do you like it? lumine and i picked it out for you at mingxing jewelry for our upcoming anniversary. i just wanted her opinion on what to choose for you. this was one of the most beautiful pieces that they had. i heard it took a super long time to make, oh! the jade in the middle will also make the bracelet glow in the dark! pretty cool huh?” ajax smiled as he lifted your wrist to put it on you.

at a loss of words, you lifted your head up at the male and gave him a soft smile, “thank you ajax… i love it, it’s perfect in every way possible.”

“just like you.” the redhead spoke fondly with a grin on his face while softly stroking your hair.

“oh shut up you flirt.” you tried to hide your smile as you both giggled on the beach with the sunset dripping behind you two. 

after a while of being engulfed in ajax’s arms you spoke, “ajax, i want to apologize for jumping to conclusions about you and lumine. i..you know about how i find it hard to trust people sometimes but it was unfair for me to do that to you, i know you would never cheat on me.” you spoke, hugging him tighter as if he would leave if you get go. 

“y/n. don’t you dare think for a second that i’ll leave you for someone else ok? you’re the only one in this world that i want and it’s staying that way. i don’t care if you’re visionless, or if you don’t have any achievements whatsoever. i still love you so so much.” ajax exclaimed as he buried his head into the crook of your neck.

you felt a certain warmth as your face flushed. how did you end up with someone as perfect as ajax. you lifted his face with your hands and pressed your lips against his. he deepens the kiss and your heart melts.

“thank you ajax. i’ll always be by your side too, no matter what happens. my love for you has no ends.” you speak with pure affection as you nuzzled your face into ajax’s soft yet firm chest. 

ajax feels his face heat up and he quickly speaks, “c’mon now, let’s go home, i can’t wait to taste your cooking after running around all day today.”

the two of you walked together on the beach, hand in hand, leaving footprints and doubts in the sand.

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special msg from my dear editor: hey lol - @kamihara​ , my works wouldn’t be nearly as good if it weren’t for them so go give them a follow please :)!

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Road to Healing

Gif is not mine.

Summary: The one where you and Wanda travel around the country while grieving together. / Inspired by road trip-themed movies.

Read Complete work on AO3 too.

Warnings> Explicit language (cursing) , mentions of death, grieve and panic attacks. Mainly fluff and sad.

Words:  4.299K (Oneshot)

When Thanos won, you didn't have time to grieve. Immediately on the battlefield, you were responsible for helping to heal the wounded. And you were exhausted when it was over.

And then S.H.I.E.L.D. was triggered, and you knew they would take Vision if they found him. You thought Wanda wouldn't want that. And you ignored the intense pain you felt at the thought of her, and repeated to yourself that you wouldn't want that either. So you used Tony's technology to bring Vision's body back to the Avengers compound. And then you told them that Thanos had destroyed him along with the jewel, and that's what they wrote in their reports.

When you finally returned home, you only slept after you had organized a memorial for him. You didn't ask your colleagues to participate. The remaining avengers just seemed empty. So you left them alone.

Your hands trembled when you touched the knob of Wanda's room. You were looking for a picture of Vis. You found it eventually. When you left the room, your shirt was wet with your tears.

You thought Vision would like a view of the sea. So you left his body in a black wooden coffin, and buried it on the edge of the hill a few meters from the exit of the complex. You figured that Vision wasn't religious, so you just used the 3D printer to create a little iron plate, and stuck it against the ground. 

You could not sleep that night. And the next. When you finally did, your panic attacks started. But the emergency calls started coming in, and you knew you had no time for grief. The world needed you now.

You learned to deal with the panic, but the nightmares continued. So you accepted more assignments, until you were too exhausted to dream. And then you got used to it. 

And like the snap of a finger, five years passed. 

When you defeated Thanos, you fell to your knees. You couldn't find Natasha. And then you couldn't breathe. You realize what was happening, you knew they were back. But you can't go through this again. Because the world needs you again. And then you calm down, and you stand up. And then you are walking.

Steve doesn't come back. You think you hear Bucky crying in his room. But you don't say anything, because he doesn't like to talk about it. 

You take Wanda to the tomb of Vision two days before Tony's funeral. She sobs against you as you hug her, your own tears preventing you from seeing your surroundings clearly. You haven't left her side since.

After Tony's funeral is over, you destroy the items in your room with a bat. When you fall to the ground, Wanda sits beside you quietly, and holds your hand. She doesn't mind you shouting Nat's name along with your sobs.

- I can't stay here anymore. - You tell her the next night, while you are in your room. - I can't breathe in this place. - You confess with tears on your face. - I feel like I'm going to die. 

Wanda intertwines your hands. 

- Let's leave then.

You let out a long sigh, trying to control your tears. And then you nod.

Your mood improves considerably once you are out of the compound. You don't think about Nat, or Tony, or Steve, because if you do, your hands start to shake. But you think about healing. You think about being there for your best friend. 

And then you decide to live. And you hold both of Wanda's hands when you tell her that you are going to travel. Travel to all the places she hasn't visited in the United States.

You want to remember that there are still things to live for. You want Nat to be proud of you.

When Wanda nods in agreement, you smile, and hug her. And then you get a truck, and you let Wanda hold the map.

It is hot and humid, and you drum your fingers against the steering wheel, humming softly the pop song playing on the radio.

Wanda fell asleep against the passenger seat some time ago, and it has been a few hours since you left the small motel where you were staying after leaving the Avengers compound.

You are hungry, so you stop the car at the first dinner you find. The loss of movement of the vehicle awakens Wanda.

- Hey sleepyhead. - You joke as you take out your key, and look for your wallet in the glove compartment. - Let's go get something to eat.

You walk to the diner, which is practically empty. Wanda doesn't seem to be fully awake yet, but smiles at you when she catches you looking. You sit down on opposite sides of the table.

- I'll have the eggs and bacon, and pancakes, please. - You tell the waitress, and Wanda gives you a curious look. She orders cereal and chocolate waffles.

- Why are we having breakfast for dinner? - she asks with a smile.

You shrug, laughing lightly.

- It's always time for pancakes.

Wanda looks at you for a moment, and you look back. And then you are having a blinking contest. The waitress gives you a judgmental look when she interrupts the game, but you and Wanda smile and thank her for the food.

You finish eating first, and are distracted by one of the crossword puzzle magazines that the restaurant leaves under the tables. 

- Hey, Wands, help me with this one. - You say slightly distracted as you run your pencil across the paper. - "One word. Destined for belonging. Companionship. Devotion" Do you have any idea what it is?

- Soulmates. - Wanda says before chewing another piece of waffle. You let out a contented exclamation when the word fits, and smile at her, who just winks at you, smiling back.

- Does this taste good? - you ask, watching her eat. She nods, pushing her plate toward you. Wanda hands you her own fork to taste the waffles. They are very good, but you don't want to eat any more.

You can't finish your crossword puzzle, and you return the magazine to the table compartment before you leave the restaurant.

And then it is Wanda's turn to drive. You sit in the passenger seat, and turn up the radio as you get back on the road. You wish you could stay awake at night to keep Wanda company, but it only takes four songs for you to fall asleep. 

It is morning when you arrive in Virgina. And it is cold enough for you to wrap Wanda in a scarf when she refuses to warm up properly. She just laughs with flushed cheeks when you let her go. You rent a room with two beds, and after you shower, Wanda goes into the bathroom.

You are browsing through the channels when she comes back with a towel wrapped in her hair, she smells good even from a distance.

- Do you want to go out to eat, or do you want to order a pizza? - you ask.

- Pizza. - She replies as she lies down on the bed.

You need to go out and look for a pay phone, because both of your cell phones are off and in the bottom of one of the boxes you are carrying in the truck.

- Shall we watch a movie? - she asks when you come back into the room. 

- Comedy or horror? - You counter with a question as you kick off your shoes. Wanda bites her lip thoughtfully.

- Both.

You smile as you hang your coat on the door.

You have been watching "Scary Movie" for twenty minutes when the pizza arrives. Wanda pauses the movie while you stand up and pay the delivery man.

She uses her powers to drag the coffee table into the space between the two beds, and you place the pizza on top of the wood and sit cross-legged on Wanda's bed.

Eventually, you finish the pizza and wipe your hands with napkins. And then Wanda lets the movie sequence continue, and you remain in her bed with the excuse that it was cold. You fall asleep at the end of the second film, but you wake up in the early morning hours with Wanda's hand against your waist. You don't think you should get used to the feeling, so you get up and go back to your bed.

Wanda cries when you arrive in Virginia Beach. You know it is the view of the sea, which reminded her of the tomb of Vision. You stand silently beside her as you entwine your hands. Wanda doesn't let go until you get back to the car.

It's cold, and you shouldn't have ice cream. But you do it anyway. You and Wanda stop at a drive-thru, and have your milkshakes while you drive toward Tennessee.

You let her have the rest of your ice cream even though she's had many tastes already.

On one of the roads, you stop the car on the roadside. You try to normalize your breathing. 

- I'm here. - She says next to you in a gentle voice, as she lets you squeeze her hand over your lap. - You are safe. 

You exchange directions for a while. 

- So you have never been to Disney? - You ask between one lighthouse and another, somewhere in North Carolina.

Wanda denies it with a smile and a nod. She has only one hand on the wheel, and her hair is shining in the sun. You scold yourself for looking.

- Since we can't afford Disney, we should pick something cheap to do - You tell her while looking at one of the tour guides you found at the motel.

- I don't mind just driving around. - she says. You bite the smile from your lips.

- Yeah, me neither.

It takes two weeks for you to talk about Natasha. You have changed routes many times now, and then you sit in the back of the truck, and look at the stars. And Wanda asks you about your nightmares. You say that you dream that Nat is falling, and that you can never reach her. You fall asleep together in the back of the car, many blankets wrapped around you.

When you wake up holding each other, neither of you really minds.

You are near Chicago when you drag Wanda to an arcade in the late afternoon. 

You and Wanda try out all the toys that are allowed for you. It's fun, and loud. And you laugh so hard your cheeks hurt.

And then you eat hamburger and fries with soda sitting in a parking lot. You push Wanda's shoulder lightly with yours when she steals one of your fries.

You are in a clothing bazaar when you see Wanda's breasts for the first time. In between trying on various strange outfits for fun, the fifth or sixth time you return to the changing room, Wanda pulls you into the cabin with her. And she smiles so much that you hardly notice them. 

When you get back to the motel, you bathe first. You touch yourself in the shower without really thinking about anything, but when you cum, the image of her breasts are in your mind.

In Michigan you bet on a race. And Wanda absolutely beats you. She has flushed cheeks and a sweaty face when you catch up with her. You think it's unfair that she looks so beautiful.

You watch the sunset, and Wanda thinks she has seen an owl. 

Your body begins to betray you when Wanda hugs you and you tremble. You decide that it is because you have been a long time without touching another person intimately and being touched in the same way. 

You joke with Wanda that you need to find a one-night stand, and she doesn't smile when she agrees with you.

As you drive towards Kansas, a waitress flirts with you. Wanda gets back in the car saying that she is tired, and you don't understand why kissing the waitress against a wall while she has one hand down your pants doesn't satisfy you.

You talk about death in Springfield. You are sharing popcorn while wrapped in a blanket sitting on the grass a few feet from the truck. 

- You can't die. - She declares suddenly and you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

- Wanda...?

- I won't... I won't survive.

You turned around quickly, and held up both your hands. 

- I wouldn't like that. - You tell her. You know it's what she doesn't want to hear, but you need her to understand that. - I would never want your life to depend on mine. 

Wanda sobs, lowering her head.

- I wish you would move on. - You nod to reaffirm her statement, your own face wet with tears. - I know... people expect me to say that I wish you would miss me, or not replace me. But I don't feel that way. - You confess. - I never want to be the reason for your unhappiness. If I die, and well, at some point I will, I want you to go on living. And enjoying it.

Wanda shakes her head, and jumps on your neck. She cries against your collarbone, but it's okay. You think she understood what you told her.

When she calms down, you are silent for several moments. 

- What will you do if I die? - she asks, looking at you. You keep your gaze on the stars as you shrug;

- I would die too.

Wanda bites back a smile on her lips, and hugs you. 

Bucky calls. You talk for five minutes. And then you text him that when he is ready you will be there to listen to him. You send a picture of you and Wanda, and when he calls again, you talk for five hours.

It takes four weeks since you left the compound to realize that you are in love with Wanda.

You are in a motel somewhere in Nebraska, and she is combing her hair in front of the television, a sitcom playing. And then she laughs, and you realize.

The realization doesn't surprise you though. You take a deep breath, and tell her you're going to get some air before you leave. 

You lean back on the balcony, trying to push the guilt away. You can hardly believe it happened so fast and so intensely.

You decide that everything is too recent, and that it would be disrespectful to Wanda's grief, so you guard yourself.

You fight for the first time in Colorado. You are being stubborn and rude, and Wanda is being distant and judgmental. And then you are arguing about the next destination. And then you stop the car on the roadside, and Wanda says she's not going anywhere with you. And you are silent for forty minutes before you two start to cry. 

You put your face against the steering wheel, and Wanda lifts her legs onto the seat and buries her face in her own arms. 

It takes a long moment for you to calm down. And then you wipe away your tears and Wanda looks away into the window, and you drive away again.

You are staying in Utah for a few days. It is the first time you ask for separate rooms. You want to cry again, but you just take the key. 

And then you can't sleep after four hours as you stare at the ceiling. 

You get up, and go out onto the veranda. And your feet guide you to the next door. But before you can knock, Wanda opens it, and jumps into you, hugging you tight. Your body instantly relaxes, and you cry as you both apologize, and promise never to fight again.

You get drunk in Las Vegas. Really drunk. You don't remember ever laughing as hard as you did that night. You think Wanda used her powers to win the games, but you can't prove it. And then you're back in the truck, stumbling and laughing, and she has a look on her face that makes your stomach turn with nervousness.

But you swallow your nervousness with a smile, and accept the bottle of vodka she offers you. And then you are in a karaoke bar, singing at the top of your lungs for two hours into the early morning hours. When the owner kicks you out, Wanda holds your hand as you both run around town. 

Back at the motel, you are laughing about something you can't remember, and then you fall into bed together, and instantly fall asleep.

When you wake up, you don't care about your headache.

You get the same tattoo in Las Vegas. Wanda holds and squeezes your hand while you are doing it, and you do the same to her. The tattoo artist thought you were married, and neither of you corrects him.

And then you take her to all the tourist spots, and you have ice cream and hot dogs. And Wanda's hand is warm against yours all the way.

On your last day in LA, you visit a nightclub. It is noisy, and lively, and has lots of alcohol. You find it hard to breathe when you see Wanda in a party dress, but she smiles and you follow her.

And then you dance and dance and dance, and you think about nothing. And then you're drunk again, and the girl at the bar is flirting with you. And Wanda's no longer smiling when she gets back on the dance floor. 

You think the girl at the bar has asked for your number, but you're looking at Wanda dancing. And she moves her body with sensuality, and then there is a man behind her. Wanda kisses him while looking at you through the lights. 

You take a shot of whiskey before leaving in a rage.

And when Wanda wakes up in the morning, she says she doesn't remember anything.

You think that you can no longer hide what you feel when you are on the road, heading for Oregon. But you just keep mumbling the song that plays on the radio.

Wanda bites her lip and has a lost look on her face, but when you ask her what's wrong, she looks away quickly as she says she was just distracted. 

You are entertained by the music again.

You get used to your feelings in Portland. The routine helps you keep them quiet and buried deep in your chest. 

You and Wanda begin to spend more time in inns, and camping, than on the road, but you still travel around the country. 

And then Wanda talks about Vision for the first time. How important he had been, how much she missed him. You listen, and she asks about Nat. And you say that it is exactly the same way. 

Neither of you cries anymore at the mention of their names.

It doesn't take long before the world needs you again. Sam calls. Stephen calls. You and Wanda throw your cell phones off a cliff, while toasting a lemonade.

- We are terrible superheroes, aren't we? - you ask looking at the horizon.

- The worst. - She replies before pouring her drink into her mouth.

You get your numbers back the same day by going to an electronics store.

And then you have to go back to New York.

Four hours down the road, and you both stop for a bite to eat in Cleveland, at a diner very similar to the one at your first stop.

Wanda walks ahead of you, hugging her own sweatshirt as she feels the late afternoon chill. You resist the urge to hug her.

- I'll have the waffles with chocolate and cereal. - You ask the waitress. Wanda stares at the menu for a few more seconds, biting her lower lip before speaking.

- I'll have the eggs and bacon with pancakes. - She asks right away.

You are silent for a moment, exchanging glances and quick smiles. And then the waitress returns with your plates.

- Are you ready to save the world again, Wandy? - you ask with a light irony in your voice before tasting your ceral.

Wanda smiles.

- Of course, of course. - She answers with humor. But her expression slowly falls, as if she is remembering something. You look at her with curiosity and concern.

- Are you all right?

- I just... - She begins. And then she straightens her posture, and diverts her eyes from yours. - What happens next? - You frown uncomprehendingly. Wanda looks unsure. - After we finish the job. This ends too?

You swallow dryly, feeling embarrassed and nervous. But you do your best to avoid showing it.

- Do you want it to end? - You ask.

- No. - She confesses as she looks into your eyes.- I'd like us to continue together.

- I'm not going anywhere, Wanda.  - You assure her with a smile. And then you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling anxious. - Don't you... don't you wish you had a fixed place to stay?

Wanda blinks in confusion, looking surprised at your question.

- I just... I love the road and all. Mostly because you're with me. - You say, and don't notice her blush at the last sentence. - But I'd like to have a house. Especially now that we're going back to work. I wouldn't mind living in New York.

- Are you inviting me to move in with you? - Wanda asks with a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment, and you feel your face heat up.

- Yes, I ... I'd like that. - You say, and seeing Wanda's surprised expression, you hasten to add. - But I understand if you just want the road! That's fine, I'll stand by you too!

Wanda reaches your hand quickly over the table, and she has a huge smile on her lips.

- I would love to live with you.

- Oh. - You sigh ruefully, feeling as if a weight has been lifted from your back. - Cool.

- Cool. - Wanda repeats with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in her eye.

And then you go back to eating in silence.

You are in the passenger seat while Wanda hums a song along to the noise of the radio. It is dark and she is waiting for the first motel she can find to park. And you look at her, looking so good, and comfortable, and happy. And your brain is screaming how much you love her in an endless loop, while your heart threatens to explode in your chest.

So you think you'd better face the landscape because you're getting out of breath. But then Wanda is parking the car on the roadside, and you think maybe she's going to pee, but then she doesn't come out. You turn and find her gripping the steering wheel with both hands as she looks ahead.

- Hey, what happened? - you ask worriedly. Wanda closes her eyes.

- I read your mind.

The confession shocks you immediately. 

- W-what? - You retort with a trembling voice.

Wanda opens her eyes, and lets go of the steering wheel. And she has a tender expression to calm you down.

- Hey, it's okay, I...

- No.

You mumble breathlessly, holding back tears, as you quickly unbuckle your seat belt and get out of the car.

You think you finally blew it. Wanda knew, and this was the end. 

Leaning against the car, you hugged your arms as you tried to calm your breathing with your eyes closed. You were startled when Wanda touched your shoulders, not even having heard her get out of the car.

- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. - You cried when she hugged you. Your body was shaking. - I tried to avoid it. I'm sorry.

- Stop saying that. - She asked softly, letting her hands caress your back to calm you down. - You didn't do anything wrong. - She tries to say it, but you hold her tight, afraid she'll be gone at any moment. - Hey, look at me.

Wanda asks a few more times before you let go, trying to control your tears. Only when you look at her do you realize that she too has a crying face.

- I don't want to lose you. - You whimper. - I'll control myself, I can send them away. And everything will go back to the way it was before.

Wanda denies it with her head, raising her hands to your face. You think she's going to say you both can't do this anymore, and your stomach flips.

- I love you. - She confesses, looking up at you. - I love you. - She repeats as she wipes your tears with her fingers. You're too shocked to react. - I love you so much.

And then Wanda kisses you. And you stumble with fright, but the car behind you won't let you move away from her body. And then your eyes close, and you surrender. A long sigh escapes your lips as you feel Wanda's tongue on yours.

And you kiss until you are breathless. And then your body is warm, trembling, and Wanda kisses you again, and again, as she presses you against the car. 

And then you don't want to be dressed anymore, as Wanda lets her hands run all over you. 

You don't separate your mouths as you fall into the back seat, Wanda on top moaning into your mouth. 

The glass of the car is fogged as your hand slips on the window, trembling at Wanda's intimate touch, and delighting in the sounds she makes when you kiss her in all the right places.

You are happy. Fucking delighted. And you didn't want to keep driving, not unless it was to a house that was going to be yours and Wanda's. But Stephen and Sam were calling, saying that you were taking too long. Then you drove back to New York, and this time, Wanda's hand was entwined in yours.

[sagittariuswritings]

Your Touch

TFATWS EPISODE 4 SPOILERS Pairing: Helmut Zemo x f!reader Summary: Y/n was dragged along Sam and Bucky’s “Zemo mission” by Bucky. She’s a mutant herself, an empath to be exact. After the blip, Bucky became her new neighbor. They became good friends, and got to know each other, and he offered to teach her self defense. When he asked for her help, she never knew she’d catch feelings for a criminal. Warnings: Language, angst, soft!zemo, fluff, and h*nd h*lding Word count: 2.3k+ A/N: I know I know I posted a screenshot of this days ago but I’ve been really busy at the barn lately and I always have to go to bed before midnight and I’m typically busy until 8pm so I’ve been really meaning to finish this!! AO3 link (not my gif)

The new plan was for Sam to try and talk to Karli. Of course, Y/n didn’t expect Zemo to actually go through with that. Zemo called Karli a supremacist, which just about earned him a punch across the nose from her, but she held herself back - more like Bucky caught what she was about to do and he grabbed her by the elbow to drag her away like a child.

Y/n wore gloves nearly all the time, in all weather. With her empathic powers, and no one to guide her with them, she didn’t know how to control them or contain them, so she resulted in wearing gloves instead. Sure, it sucked when summer came, but in her mind it was worth it in the end.

Of course, John Walker himself had to butt in. The four of them (Sam, Bucky, Zemo, and Y/n) were on their way to Donya’s funeral, and low and behold John Walker’s been tracking them down. “Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.”

“Ah great - How’d you find us now?” Bucky immediately spoke up when they rounded the corner to fully see John and Lemar.

“Come on, man, you really think two avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Started Lemar, but then John butted in. “No more keeping us in the dark. You could start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.”

“Technically speaking, he did that himself-” Y/n started, but John cut her off.

“And who the hell is she?” He turned, looking at Sam and Bucky while jabbing a thumb in her direction.

“She can very well speak for herself, off-brand Captain America.” She said with her arms going over her chest. She couldn’t stand the guy already. Her and Bucky were together to watch his little football game thing, and she could practically see the steam coming out of Bucky’s ears. She could feel the anger, too. “I’m simply an acquaintance helping my friends, none of your concern.”

“None of my-” “Yes, none of your business. I know where Karli is.” Zemo interrupted him, starting to push past John, but he stopped him. “Well where?” Sam spoke up for Zemo, “All we know is, it’s a memorial, so we’re gonna intercept her there.” Lemar said something about being careful due to civilians, but Zemo, Y/n, and Bucky were already starting to walk off.

John tried explaining his quote on quote plan and that of course led to bickering between him, Sam, and Lemar. All Y/n could do was roll her eyes and earned a small chuckle from Zemo beside her. “What?” “Oh, nothing, it is just entertaining is all.” “What? Me getting frustrated or them bickering like children?” Zemo paused. “Both.”

John, yet again, tried stopping them, and having already been around their bickering, Y/n was getting fed up. This time, it was Zemo who held her back. He gently wrapped his hand around her elbow before she could speak up, and she reluctantly listened to him, letting the rest of them deal with his bullshit.

“I’ll deal with you later.” John pointed at Zemo. “Yeah, sure you will.” She mumbled, and before John could snap back, Zemo spoke up. “My associate is just up ahead.” And with that, they were finally moving again. Y/n figured there would be a trick or two up Zemo’s sleeve, but using a child to show him to the funeral was the last thing she expected him to do. As he gave her the money, she couldn’t help but smile a little. It was nice to see a man that looked extremely closed-off do something good. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

Before Zemo could even speak, John cuffed him to a piece of machinery. “You’ve got ten minutes, then we’re doing things my way.” He told Sam over his shoulder after cuffing Zemo.

“Aggressive. But I get it.” In all honesty, Y/n wasn’t against this. More often than not her gut feelings were correct, and she certainly had a gut feeling that Zemo was going to do something either stupid or bad within the next hour or so.

Y/n sat down beside Lemar, bringing one knee up to her chest and letting her other leg hang off the edge of this machinery. She didn’t hate Lemar the way she hated John. Lemar seemed to have a good heart, one that was set in the right way and that wouldn’t change no matter what. He wasn’t like his associate, and Y/n could feel it. John had an aggressive and arrogant type of energy, meanwhile Lemar had a passionate and determined energy. There wasn’t a dangerous edge to the man.

The entire ten minutes - well, at this point it hadn’t even been eight let alone ten -, John paced nonstop and was driving her and Bucky insane. Her and Bucky seemed to make eye contact out of frustration nearly every time John would pace. And Zemo just stood with a grimace on his face the entire time. “Do you ever stop?” She finally said. “Stop what?” “Trying so fucking hard to be the hero of every situation.” “Excuse me?” That seemed to irritate him because he stopped pacing and came up to her, barely leaving much space between them.

“Y/n.” Bucky spoke, his tone a warning. “Leave it be.”

“No, I’m not going to leave it be. Not when I can’t hear my own thoughts over this guy making a trench in the concrete.” She sat up as she defended herself, not even bothering to look up at John when she talked to Bucky. “You try so hard to be the good guy. You have this mindset that you’re in control of everything just because you gave yourself the label Captain America. You think just because you’ve been labeled as Captain America, you can just go about bossing everyone around. You’re a spitting image of your average American, however.” With that, she got to her feet. She was smaller than him, but that didn’t stop her from continuing. “You’re a rich white man with beautiful blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes, but you think because you’re a rich white man that you can control everything. You’re one spitting image of the American Government: Fucked up and corrupt.”

You could hear a pin drop. It was so silent. Y/n could feel the pure anger in John begin to bubble up, and right when she thought he was going to hit her, all he said was “I’m going in.” She was left standing there as Lemar jogged after John, just her and Zemo being the only ones left in the room.

“That was… Impressive.” Zemo ended up speaking first. Y/n snapped her head over at him, and there were tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t normally get like this. The energy in the room was tense and her emotions got caught in the tension. “It wasn’t.” She mumbled, a sniffle following her words as she made her way over to Zemo. “I don’t exactly trust you but,” She pulled a bobby pin out of her hair. “This is a bit much.” It took her a second, but she was able to unlock the handcuffs.

Zemo seemed to stare at the cuffs for a moment while he rubbed his wrist, his eyes meeting her own. “Thank you.” “It’s nothing. Just go do your thing and I’ll be your babysitter.”

-

The large metal door slammed before Y/n could follow Zemo into the boiling room, and she heard him shove things in front of the door. “Zemo?” Silence. “Zemo what the fuck, let me in!” She shoved her shoulder against the door, but it didn’t budge. “It’s for your own safety.” She scoffed. “My safety? You better be worried about your own safety if I get my fucking hands on you after this, open the door.” She heard his footsteps retreating and she slammed her fist against the door out of anger, probably bruising her hand in the process because god that hurt.

Gunshots went off. She didn’t want to leave the spot in fear of getting lost, and within minutes Bucky was jogging down the hallway. “Zemo locked me out and I just heard gunshots-” Before she could continue, bucky managed to get the door open by kicking it, then he just had to push it open. By the time they got in the room, Lemar entered from across the room and upon looking down, Zemo’s unconscious body was in the center of the room while John stood some feet away from him. “What the hell happened-?” Y/n breathed out, running down the stairs and dropping to her knees by Zemo’s body, her fingers instantly going to his pulse beneath his jaw. There was a very obvious pulse, but she was still shaken up.

Why was she shaken up? He was a bad man. He was a criminal. He used Bucky to destroy people’s lives. He was supposed to be her enemy, so why was she worried about whether or not he had a pulse?

“Karli got him.” John came up behind her, but she stood up immediately. “Would you just back the fuck off? You don’t need to butt in on everything or be involved in everything. Get it through your stupid fucking helmet to your brain.” He started talking but she turned around and got back to Zemo’s side. She lightly hit his cheek with her gloved hand, and when he didn’t budge for a moment, she muttered a sorry before slapping him. That seemed to wake him up. His head lifted off the concrete, and his eyes fluttered open to meet her own.

“Oh, good, you’re alive. Let’s go back to your home now. Bucky?” She looked up at him, a soft pleading look in her eyes that said help. Reluctantly, he wandered over and helped her get Zemo to his feet.

-

Bucky and Sam had left to find somewhere for food, and left Y/n alone with Zemo in his home. She didn’t mind, if anything it was her suggestion. While the pair left the building, she guided him to his couch. He originally sat up but she put a hand on his chest and gently put pressure on his chest to ease him into a lying position. “I’ll get you some ice.” She quietly said, making her way to the kitchen.

“A cold cloth, please. Not a fan of ice over my eyes.” Zemo managed to speak up, his voice drifting to the kitchen. “As long as you’re sure.” She answered, grabbing a washcloth from one of the many drawers of his kitchen.

Quietly, Y/n stepped into the living room. “Lift your head.” She ordered. “Feisty.” Was his response. She rolled her eyes and sat where he had lifted his head. “Lay back.” She ordered again. Reluctantly, he lowered the back of his head onto her lap. “Close your eyes.” “I like the sound of that.” He muttered, his lips forming into a smirk. “Keep it up and I’ll make your headache ten times worse.” She quipped, gently laying the cloth over his closed eyes. “Now open your hand for a glass.” And she gently placed a shot glass of one of his strongest alcohols in his hand. “Do you want any pain meds or anything?” She asked, looking down at him. “Your touch would be enough, mein liebling.” His voice was quiet.

Of course, Y/n wore gloves solely to not have any physical contact with anyone. She feared feeling others’ emotions, seeing as she didn’t have a clue of how to control them. She’d told Zemo that she just had sensitive skin to certain material, which she figured he didn’t buy it, but he never said anything else.

With hesitation, she removed her gloves and placed them on the coffee table to her left. “Alright.” She spoke, her voice barely above a whisper as she reached for his right hand with her own. When she placed her hand in his, she felt him flinch. “You didn’t have to take your gloves off if you didn’t want to-” She cut him off. “It’s okay, Zemo.” “Helmut.” “Pardon?” “Call me Helmut. It’s my first name. Zemo isn’t my first.” Her brows raised in surprise, but she nodded.

Within moments of her slipping her hand in his, he intertwined his fingers with her own. A soft shade of pink settled onto her cheeks, and she was thankful that he couldn’t see her.

Surprisingly, she didn’t feel anything she’d feared when she touched his skin. She could feel faint pain and sadness from the past, but she also felt kindness. “You have a kind heart, you know. You put on a stone cold expression, but you’re kind.. I can feel it.”

With that, he placed his glass on the table and very quickly removed the cloth from his eyes, even though it hurt him to move his head too much. “I knew it.” She looked at him, a brow raised to toy with him. “Knew what?” “You’re an empath.” There it was. She knew he knew. “I am.”

“Am I… Hurting you?” Her heart nearly exploded at how soft his voice was. Very quickly, she shook her head. “No, no you’re not. I promise.” She smiled down at him and her eyes softened when she saw that look on his face. He was like a completely different person. He was touch starved. It was clearer than a crystal.

“Rest, Helmut… You need it.” She whispered, leaning over to gently press a kiss to his now cold forehead.

“You don’t need to tell me twice when you’re lulling me to sleep.” He snuck a smirk in before she laughed softly and covered his eyes with the cloth once more.

[highpope]

pieced together pt. one

posting here too because not that many people have seen it also sorry for the weird spacing idk what’s going on

JJ Maybank x pogue reader - season 2 fic

spoiler warning!

You laid in bed watching the rain hit your windows, the radio downstairs faintly describes the fate of the world. You can’t make out complete sentences without straining, but you have heard enough from the last few days to know there were no updates about John B and Sarah. The radio has been on for days on end, your parents not wanting to miss any possible update about your friends or the storm that seemed never-ending. It was like it rained for years. It was a constant reminder of the night your two best friends were driven out into the storm and everything changed. You could hear Shoupe’s words in the back of your mind, “we lost ‘em' ' on a constant loop. You could see Kiara’s face and JJ’s hands and Pope’s heart shatter. Like all the stars had come falling down and you were the only one left to pick up all the pieces. You prayed this was all a nightmare. You could wake up and not only would they both be here, but you’d all be safe. You would give up the gold a hundred times over if it meant John B and Sarah would be home.

Both Pope and Kie’s parents had called your mom every night since that day. When she thought you were asleep, she would creep down the stairs and sit in the kitchen and cry, praying they had some good news. Something that could take away some of the pain you were in. But she couldn’t, no one could. You had to hear half the town talk about John B like he was a murderer like he kidnapped Sarah like he was some delusional kid from the cut. All while you knew the Cameron’s were roaming free and receiving sympathy for what they’re going through. It made you sick to think about. They had a private funeral for Sarah. People gave their condolences and spoke so kindly about her. They scoffed at her recent behavior and her newfound friendship from “those dirty pogues.”

Sometime around day two, your mom came into your room asking if you had heard from JJ. He had been with the Heyward’s up until that morning when he’d completely disappeared.

For a second, you felt something other than grief, knowing he had been with Pope and not his dad, but that was short-lived. You tried to imagine how peaceful it would have been under different circumstances, a world in which he was always safe. One where Luke Maybank had no control over his life. You wanted to get lost in that daydream, live in that alternative reality for a while. He wouldn’t have to keep a duffel bag full of clothes and cash under your bed for when things got bad. He wouldn’t have to know how to do stitches on himself or how to pop a dislocated shoulder back in place. He’d be safe. He’d be happy. She asked again if you had heard from JJ, snapping you back to reality. (you had not). You watched as her forehead creased and her lips straightened into a thin line, like something in her had broken too.

She hurts just as much as you do. At first, you contributed that to her not being able to take away your pain, which is part of it. But you later realized she’s lost a person, too. You had known John B since grade school, there were pictures of the group of you sitting on your swing set in your backyard at age nine. Ones of you, JJ, John B, and Pope asleep in your living room after attempting to build a fort. He stayed for dinners and birthday parties. She watched us grow up, every first day of school, soccer game, fishing tournament. Our families had somehow combined over the years. Not only does your mom hurt for you, but she lost a child. And that weight is heavier than anything.

You stopped crying by day three. Nothing left. You were completely and utterly numb but consumed by loss all at the same time. You hadn’t initially worried about JJ. He did this. He disappeared for a little, to clear his head, but he always came back. He never stayed away for more than three days. That’s how long it took for him to feel balanced again, maybe less, but never more. He said it was because he couldn’t get a burger as good as the ones at The Wreck anywhere else in the world, but you knew how much he loved the outer banks and the people there. You also knew that he’d never leave without you. And if he absolutely had to, he would at least say goodbye. He had to, he promised. You held on to that every time his phone went straight to voicemail. And when days four and five came and went and you still haven’t heard from him, you were worried. He should’ve crawled through your window in yesterday’s clothes with a few more scratches on his arm than he left with, but his eyes would glow a little brighter and he would still smile when you insisted he spends the night. So, when you cracked your window open and slept with your bedside lamp on (so that he could see the light from outside) and he still wasn’t there when you awoke, your mourning turned into something else. You sent a few texts, in case he somehow got them, but you were doubtful.

You didn’t know what it was like to live without him. There wasn’t a time in your life you could remember when you and JJ weren’t attached at the hip. Sometime around kindergarten, you two became inseparable, ultimately meeting John B and Pope as you got older and Kie when you all got to junior high. There was a weird couple of months around third grade where he decided girls had cooties, but it was short-lived because when JJ realized that meant you couldn’t be friends anymore he thought it was dumb and started coming over again. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when your relationship changed, the lines between friendship and something more merging and becoming blurred. If you had to, for you it was the start of sophomore year. Something changed when you were together, even just sitting in silence was comfortable and exciting. Eyes started lingering, touches became more frequent, and then one day you were just together. It’s been the same since. You think back to the first time you kissed like a couple. It definitely hadn’t been the first time the two of you had ever kissed. You were sure there had been at least one during your childhood and you vividly remember a New Year’s Eve party and a couple of games of truth or dare. But this time it was different. There was something behind it.

You and JJ sat side by side in the hammock outside of John B’s. He was smoking while using his one leg to rock the two of you slowly back and forth. You were struggling to keep your eyes open and pay attention to whatever story was being told. JJ must have noticed because he wrapped an arm around you, inviting you to lay on his chest.

This wasn’t uncommon between you. JJ was always physically affectionate toward the people he cared about and you had no problem reciprocating. You stayed just like that until it was just the two of you left outside.

JJ shifted slightly under your weight causing you to wake up. “Shit, sorry. You okay?” he asked, tossing the tip of the blunt into the fire.

You nodded, “mhm.” You looked around, realizing how dark it had gotten, “You could’ve woken me up! It’s late.”

“You looked peaceful.”

You pretended to clutch your heart, “JJ Maybank being nice? Dare I say sweet?”

“Shut up,” he said, rolling his eyes. He was smiling at you like you were the funniest person in the world.

“ No, no. You care about me,” you joked, poking his chest with your finger, “you loooove me.”

“ Yeah?” he challenged, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you said, your breath suddenly catching in your throat.

“What if I do?” He asked, but it wasn’t a question. His face was serious, a glimmer of hope in his crystal eyes.

You look slightly from his eyes to his lips. If JJ noticed he didn’t lead on. He just slowly bridged the gap between you, your noses brushing for a moment before your lips connected. It was slow and careful, not wanting to push too far, but all the same, wanting to completely unravel the other. His hand cupped your cheek, his rings cold against your flushed face as you leaned into the kiss.

You heard faint screams and cheers from inside the chateau and Pope’s “Finally!” echo out. You could feel him smiling and soon enough you were both laughing. You had finally come together and nothing would take that away.

On day six, the rain stopped and the world carried on as normal. You wanted to yell at every person you saw. How could anyone feel so neutral about anything that happened in the last week? The sheriff was dead, there was a murderer on the loose, your two best friends were gone, and your boyfriend was missing. But yeah, go ahead and go to the grocery store like any other Wednesday morning. Someone tell the earth, it’s not supposed to keep spinning after the world ends.

You were lying on your bed, staring at your ceiling as you tried to fall asleep, a breeze flowed through your window and your lamp illuminated the room. All you could hear were cicadas and the wind rustling through the trees until you heard your window creak and slide open. You tried to process everything all at once, your eyes scanning over every part of his body, trying to meet his eyes. He was wearing the same clothes he had on the last time you saw him. There was dirt under his fingernails and his face was puffy from crying. His lip was cracked and covered in dry blood and bruises littered his jaw and hands. You could cry at the mere sight of him. Before either of you could speak, you collided.

You held his head to your chest and placed kisses on his hairline. You tried to wipe your tears before he could see them, but it was no use. The two of you were a tangle of arms and legs, of broken hearts and misguided minds, so desperately trying to tell the other it was going to be okay without believing it yourself.

“I miss him so much,” he sobbed. Your heart fell to your stomach and everything you had pushed down the past few days came rushing back.

“Me too,” you breathed. JJ’s arms wrapped around your stomach and he buried his head into your neck. You stayed like this for what felt like hours, thinking that if you held on long enough the two of you wouldn’t fall apart.

You heard your door open slightly and you quickly turned your head to see your mom stood there, tears brimming her eyes. You can visibly see her shoulders relax as she lets out a sigh. Your door closes softly as if not to disturb you both. You hear her on the other side of the door, “he’s here. He’s okay.”

“My dad’s gone,” he murmured into your neck.

You can physically feel your heart break for the boy in your arms and the younger version of him, trying to find a space he belongs and mourning the only one he ever found. You want so badly to hold him together, paint all of his scars golden. To remind him how much people love him, how much you love him, but no words come out.

“Guess he finally picked up and left, son of a bitch” His voice wobbled, “I went back, uh, that night to find the necklace John B gave me.”

He pulled away so he could talk directly to you. You cupped his cheeks and swiped the tears with your thumbs before they could fall. He laughed dryly, remembering, “Climbed through my bedroom window and everything. It should’ve taken two minutes tops but it wasn’t on my dresser like I thought it was. I tore my room apart looking for it. And then my dad came home and heard me, uh he was not happy to see me, as you can imagine.”

“Did he hurt you?” you ask, moving farther away from him to make sure he wasn’t bleeding or worse.

He grabs your hands and brings them to his chest, “I’m okay, I promise.”

“Is that where you were? The past few days,”

He nods, “yeah. I woke up the next day and he was gone. I was just going to get my stuff and go, but I don't know. Something wasn’t right.” He pauses to gather his thoughts, “They all really do leave, huh?”

“Don’t say that,” you urge.

“I’m just-”

“No. Do not think like that. None of this is your fault. Your dad is a fucking awful person for not loving you like you need to be loved. Like you deserve to be loved. And John B-” your voice cracks, “John B would never leave us if he didn’t have to and, and you have me. I couldn’t ever leave you. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself

He kisses your knuckles, “I know, I know. He just has so much power over the way I think.”

“But you know. You know you are nothing like him.”

He nods, not meeting your eyes.

“These past few days, J. You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Don’t disappear on me, okay?”

“Never.” He pushes his lips to yours, urgent and longing. You move your hands to his head, bringing him closer, trying to pour yourself into him.

[no-reply95]

So I listened to the Something About the Beatles (SATB) latest podcast today, titled “Dear Friend” with the topic of conversation John and Paul’s relationship in the 1970s. So I was thinking that this would be great because I feel like the primary things talked about when the John/Paul 1970s dynamic is discussed is Lennon Remembers, How Do You Sleep and the PlayBoy interview, maybe they’ll throw in the Lost Weekend for balance if they’re feeling so inclined... I’m obviously exaggerating here but... Firstly, before I start my rant, SATB is a good podcast, they usually have great guests (Erin Torkelson Weber the MVP of course), cover interesting topics and Robert Rodriguez is a good host who’s good at challenging things in the story that don’t ring true.

However, I feel like throughout the Beatles active years and into the post break-up years there’s a narrative that has been established that so many people are wedded to, to the point that it’s part of the orthodoxy of the band. In my opinion the narrative is that from first meeting up until the moment that John died Paul was always doing everything to be John’s BFF, he was always trying to be closest to John, no matter what John said or did, Paul would always be the one to try and mend fences and throughout the 70s he was doing whatever he could to end up back working with John. I don’t think this narrative is completely wrong but I think it’s uneven mainly because, in all this, Paul’s importance to John is completely glossed over and John’s manoeuvring to ensure that he was the most important person in Paul’s life is completely missed. So, I just want to highlight some of the instances off the top of my head where I feel that John showed how much he needed to be prioritised in Paul’s life and how much he wanted to mend fences post break-up, that I feel don’t get talked about often enough:

1) John’s competition with Jim McCartney: There’s a lot of stock put into the John-Paul-Stu triangle but that obscures a weird triangle that, maybe Paul wasn’t even aware of, but I think definitely existed which is John-Paul-Jim. By all accounts Jim didn’t want John around and was against John and Paul’s friendship. Jim had a lot of influence over Paul and had a lot of sway as his sole parent once Mary died and I think John was resentful of that. We all know about the ultimatum John gave Paul when he took the job (that Jim implored him to get) which jeopardised his commitment to the band. In John’s eyes and own words, Paul choosing to quit his job to commit fully to the band was Paul choosing John over his dad. No one (in books I’ve only seen Joshua Wolf Shenk discuss this) discusses how Jim was effectively John’s Stu, someone that obstructed his closeness and ability to influence Paul to the point that over a decade later, post break up, John saw Paul focusing on the band as a victory over his dad. John had a jealously of Paul’s closeness and prioritisation of his family that would rear its head further down the road but, by and large, I rarely see this discussed.

2) John’s jealousy of Paul’s other close friendships: On this front, we hear ad nauseam, about Paul’s jealousy of Stu, which is fine because, even without Paul acknowledging it, it’s obvious from space that Paul was jealous of Stu’s closeness to John but we never hear about John’s jealousy of Paul’s other close friendships. All the Beatles were close to Mal Evans but I think Paul was especially close to him (he was the first Beatle to befriend Mal, Mal lived with him at Cavendish for some time, Mal helped Paul write some songs etc.) which got to John. In John’s own words when discussing Magical Mystery Tour he was “choked” when he found out that Paul had come up with the idea with Mal and Mal’s widow has said that Yoko told her that John had told her (whew Chinese whispers time) that he was jealous of Mal’s friendship with Paul... Then there’s Tara Browne, it’s interesting that despite Tara apparently being really friendly and outgoing John never took to him. Maybe it was because Tara was upper class. Maybe it was because after pestering him for months, Paul chose to do LSD with Tara instead of with John and the rest of the band. Maybe it was because Paul invited Tara up to Liverpool, right after Christmas, to hang out with his family resulting in the infamous moped crash. If I put my tin foil hat on, in “A Day in the Life” when John’s reaction to the death of a man in a car crash is “to laugh” is that meaningful? The song is thought to reference Tara but does that passage give us a glimpse into how John saw Tara? If he’s laughing about Tara dying then it sounds like he really didn’t like him, possibly due to his close friendship with Paul.

3) John’s resentment of Paul’s romantic partners: So this one is interesting... There are quite a few examples to walk through so here goes. We have the incident in Hamburg where Paul is in bed with a woman and John (in the aftermath of Stu’s death and probably high on prellies) comes charging in attacking the girl, cutting up her clothes and basically scares her out of the room, maybe that was just the prellies but there seems to be too much of a pattern to ignore. Then there’s Jane of course, we don’t know a ton about John’s interactions with Jane over the years but it’s interesting that he makes a terrible first impression with her (asking her to describe how girls masturbate) and it seems that their relationship is cordial at best going forward (note how Jane and Paul never go on holiday alone with John and Cynthia in the same way George and Ringo did with their respective partners). Peggy Lipton also tells the story about how when she came to hang out with Paul in 1965, John was really rude to her out of nowhere and asked “what she was doing there” and she seemed to think that John couldn’t understand why Paul wanted to take her to dinner if all he was going to do was fuck her. Then, there’s Linda... John consistently gives interviews in the early 70s when he talks about how in a few years Paul will wake up and leave Linda, according to Ray Connolly John couldn’t believe that Paul was staying faithful to Linda and then there’s other weird occurrences in that late 60s/early 70s period. There’s the fan who claims seeing John about to hit a pregnant Linda before Paul stepped in, there’s John rushing to get married as soon as Paul does (8 days later I think which is WILD to me), there’s John describing Paul’s wedding as a “funeral” in ‘71... What does all this tell us? That John was too busy replacing Paul with Yoko to care about Paul anymore? In my book, it’s John’s fears being realised that Paul would always prioritise his family over him when push came to shove, in John’s mind he had won when he was competing with Jim for Paul but once Linda came into the picture and gave Paul the family he always wanted, I think in John’s mind, it was game over. Maybe if Paul had divorced Linda in the 70s (like John predicted) they would have worked together more, we’ll never know, but in a similar way to Yoko, Linda was a wedge in John’s relationship to Paul.

4) John’s attempts post break-up to reach out to Paul: We hear a lot about Paul reaching out to John in the 70s and not engaging with the feuding anymore, it’s Paul that decides not to respond in kind to HDYS, it’s Paul that invites John to the Venus and Mars sessions, it’s Paul going to the Dakota to see/try to see John, it’s always Paul seemingly who misses John and wants to reestablish their relationship. However, according to May Pang, John was happy to do Bangladesh if Paul was doing it too. According to Ray Connolly, John gave him a letter to give to Paul, in the hopes that Paul would call him. According to Paul and other people involved in the One to One concert, John asked Paul to appear with him during his performance in ‘72. And in the face of the backlash from HDYS, John’s the one going around calling Paul his best friend ,other than Yoko, and sending him Beatles bootlegs for Christmas.

All this is to say that John and Paul did not have this one sided relationship where only Paul cared and wanted them to repair things or where only Paul was looking to manoeuvre a situation so he was closest to John, John also wanted to be the closest person in Paul’s life, he was jealously protective of their partnership (see his angry reaction to Paul not coming to him and only him to help with Eleanor Rigby) he also seemed to fear losing Paul to his family which may have happened in his mind, who knows. Because John’s most famous post Beatles interviews have him bashing Paul and Paul’s had 40 years to talk about how much he loved John, there’s this view that Paul loved John more than John loved Paul or that John loved Paul until Yoko came in the picture, at which point Paul was no longer relevant. If Paul meant nothing to John anymore, why did he even bother writing HDYS, if he was so tuned out he wouldn’t have been bothered by Ram, none of the critics were so why was John all over that album more than a Paul is Dead truther?! Why did Yoko block Paul’s calls to John, they were happy to hang out with Ringo, what was so threatening about Paul? Why, according to Robert Rosen, were John’s diaries full of his obsessions about Paul?? We’ll never know a lot of the answers to these questions but I would love it if more podcasts even acknowledged that these questions exist and acknowledged that Paul was such a huge part of John’s life till his dying day: “we have our ups and downs but I would do anything for Paul and I think he would do anything for me” John Lennon December 8 1980.

Apologies for the rant it seems listening to Beatles podcasts always seems to set me off! But SATB is a good podcast, just feel that there are so many interesting conversations that get missed in favour of the usual narrative time and time again, so close but no cigar!

Thanks to @onesweetdreampodcast and @anotherkindofmindpod for being the only podcast I’ve heard to date brave enough to discuss these questions, I think doing that will give us a much better understanding of the Beatles and how their story unfolded.

By the way most of what I referenced above can be found in @amoralto incredible blog, have fun!

[tamagochiie]

pairing: timeskip!kenma x fem!reader

synopsis: You come home late from your cousin’s funeral, and though Kenma didn’t expect much from you but perhaps a few leftovers you’ve managed to steal away from the dinner, he finds you with a surprise: a sleeping child cradled around your neck and a teenage boy hovering behind you.

Your poor boyfriend wondering what in the hell it is you’re plotting…

tags: angst and fluff, time skip!, slight spoilers if you squint

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of depression, cursing 

w/c: 2.5k

a/n: welcome to the first chapter of this series! i’m very excited to start this, and i hope everyone who reads it enjoys it as well! i got the idea from a manga i was binge reading a while back, so the themes and a few of the plot points are different, but as it progresses, i’ve made it my own. 

anyway, happy christmas! see you next week! 

master list

life as she’s known it >> 

You notice the subtle clench of Kenma's jaw beneath the warm glow of the hallway's light. His hooded gaze strained by hours upon hours of gaming meets your wavering grin. The gears in his head are turning very slowly, and since silence has fallen upon the atmosphere of your shared apartment, you can actually hear the little squeaks as your poor boyfriend tries to fathom the sight before him.

You have quite a knack for bringing peculiar things home without permission; the little frog you adopted on the side of the road during your commute home one stormy night, the mud pie your nephew made for you that stunk the entire apartment for weeks because you didn't have the heart to throw it away—at least not immediately; and the dinner you brought home from the self-proclaimed "legitimate" kebab restaurant that resides in the sketchier side of the city.

All quirky things that Kenma had accepted and grown used to.

But this? This was so far from the bar you had set for his expectations, he can't help but wonder if you're pulling a prank, or maybe even actually committing a crime. But the glint of guilt and sorrow painting so deep into your face tells him otherwise.

Oh, how the poor gamer wishes it was a prank.

You swallow your fear, forcing it all the way down to the pit of your stomach. You've practiced all you've needed to say in the ride home, but all you can manage is stuttering, "I-I can..I can explain," in rather hushed tone.

There goes all my practice, you think to yourself.

Kenma raises a brow, still peering at you with the driest expression. The child in your arms begins to weigh heavier than the pressure placed upon your chest.

Ah, he just might break up with me after this...

"This is—uh, this one behind me is Eiji—Ejij say hi." The young boy behind you bows shyly, his greeting softer than a whisper it feels like you imagined it. "And this little one—sleeping soundly—this one's Yuki..."

Kenma blinks away at your words, face unamused. You regret not even trying to bring home some cake. Maybe if you did, he wouldn't be so...upset? Is he upset or is it just his face again? You can never really tell.

You huff, quietly jumping to the harsh conclusion this'll be the moment he ends things with you. But you won't go down without at least a little fight.

"Look," You sigh, shifting your hold beneath Yuki's tiny bum so he doesn't slip away, "They needed a place to stay, and no one was willing to take them!" Your lips fall dry and the more you speak, the more your words come out strained. "In a room full of people who—who called themselves your family for so many years fall silent the moment they needed help! No one spoke up to help them! It was so bad, Kenma! I-If you were there you—"

You bite your tongue, catching yourself before you're swept away by the current of your rage.

A deep, shaky sigh escapes him. His eyes finally tearing away from you as he cranes his head back, seemingly accepting his temporary defeat. "Let them sleep in the spare room and we'll talk after," is the only thing Kenma says to you before turning around walking away.

The constricting feeling in your chest eases and you sigh in relief. You mentally high five yourself for your momentary win before twisting your gaze over your shoulder to look at the young boy towering over you, motioning him to follow you.

You never noticed how wide the apartment actually is. Maybe its because of the emptying feeling you were left with back in the hallway, but it all seems so eerily wide. Like, what are two people doing with such a big space?

He'll definitely break up with me after this.

There's still a lingering prickly feeling in your heart; a mixed emotion of a win and a loss. You try your best to prepare yourself for whatever the outcome may be, but deep inside you're already prepared for a break up.

The young boy trails behind you all the way into the bedroom, leaving a considerable amount of space between the two of you.

You switch the lights on, revealing a room big enough for more than just two kids. A desk on the side, a king size bed at the center, and a window with a good view of the city. It was usually the room Hinata crashed whenever he came back from traveling with his team, but he hadn't been here in months. Traces of him were left in the form of dust.

"Will this be good enough for now?" You ask Eiji as you shrug Yuki's backpack to the floor before making your way over to the bed.

His head is lowered, eyes still failing to meet yours. He's been like this since you pulled them from under the gossiping gaze of your family.

Family, you think. The word seems so meaningless now.

"When someone speaks to you, you ought to look at them," You say it with a genuine smile, hoping that the little warmth you have left in your heart radiates off you and onto him.

God knows he needs it more than you.

"Y-yes, you're right. Thank you." He stammers, "I'm-I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude—"

"Hey," You say, gently cutting him off as you hold your smile. He's still as soft and shy as the day you first met him. You can't help but smile at the thought that he never changed. "I'm not mad or anything...Its just a teaching moment. Remember it."

You watch as Eiji slowly shifts his gaze away from the floor, slowly raising his head to meet your eyes."There you go. You've got pretty eyes, you shouldn't hide them."

He hums a quiet thank you before turning around and shifting his attention to his backpack. You take care of the little one still hanging onto you, pressing a kiss onto his little forehead and rubbing his back before settling him down onto the bed.

You're careful not to stir him as you slip his shoes off. You tuck him in, brushing his hair away from his face to reveal his long lashes and puffy eyes.

Ah, there goes the heaviness in your chest again; a recurring feeling for the day. You wonder when it'll end and your heart sinks even deeper when you remember Kenma waiting for you.

Hesitantly, you excuse yourself and make your way to the door. You let Eiji know where the bathroom is and tell him not to be scared to ask you for anything, "Please don't scared," is the last thing you mutter before leaving the boys to rest.

You tiptoe across the living room, down the hall and towards your shared bedroom. The wooden floorboards creak beneath your feet whispering, "You've done it now", "You've crossed the line", and "He's definitely going to yell at you".

You clench the knob of your bedroom door. The thumping of your heart deafens your ears and your throat grows too dry for you to swallow your fear.

You shut your eyes and pray to the deities, hoping for a good outcome—hoping for any outcome than the one you're expecting.

It takes a moment—five minutes to be exact—but you muster a sliver of courage to push the door open. For some odd reason, you imagined Kenma would be sitting at the edge of the bed, silently brewing in his anger. But instead, he's on the floor, knees up to his chest as he fiddles with his Switch.

And you can't tell if you're annoyed or relieved.

You shut the door behind you before joining him on the floor. You keep your head down, picking off your nail polish while you wait.

Kenma pauses his game, setting it down to the side before completely leaning against the bed, lulling his head back to take a breath. You shut your eyes and you take a deep breath when you feel him shifting in his place to face you.

Here it is. He's going to yell at me, you think.

"What are you plotting?" He asks, not a single trace of irritation found in his voice but rather sheer curiosity dripping from his words. You keep your head down and eyes shut. "You ought to look at someone when they're speaking to you," Your name rolls off his tongue playfully, covered in nothing more than love and sincerity.

You peak an eye at him, lifting your head. "You're not gonna to yell at me?"

"When have I ever yelled at you?" His face contorts in judgement and a little concern, wondering if his girlfriend's broken or just completely stupid. "Why would I yell at you now?"

"I brought home two stray kids..."

"Yes, you did," He says matter-of-factly, "and we need to talk about that. So, can we please talk about that?"

You nod slowly, bringing your knees up to your chest before turning your whole body to face him.

Kenma sinks his elbow onto the end of the bed, cupping his chin for support before he speaks, “Who are those kids and why did you bring them home?"

Kenma looks at you directly, his face emotionless, but a bit softer compared to when you were first standing in the hallway. He blinks at you, waiting patiently till you're ready to speak.

"They were my cousin's kids," You say in a strained whisper. "The—The one that died in the accident." Kenma hums in response, signaling you to keep going. "We weren't close—as you know or else you would've heard a lot more about him—but we felt close enough...given what our family's like..."

Growing up with the kind of family you had and having met everyone from your extended family was kind of like living in a block of ice that never melted; solid in their beliefs, slippery with their anger, and had no room for any other emotion.

You made this very clear to Kenma when you first started dating, especially when he had asked to meet your family. He wasn't one to socialize or even initiate it, but he would do it if it meant doing it for you. But you turned the idea down fast, warned him that there'd be no reason to have to go through all that stress just for you; and though he was just as stubborn as you, Kenma gave in and never brought it up again when he saw how upset you had gotten.

But in chest full of ice cubes, there was your cousin, Akihiro-san. Like you, he was different. He wasn't cold, but he was so genuine and real, you couldn't help but doubt his kindness.

A kindness you failed return when he needed it most. So, when you saw your moment of opportunity, you snatched it, regrettably leaving your boyfriend as an afterthought to your decision.

"I owe it to him, Kenma..." You plead in whisper. "I owe to him because he was the only one who was ever nice to me..."

"These are kids," He counters, dipping his head to meet your glossy eyes. He takes your cheek into the palm of his hand, his thumb tracing circles over your skin. "This would be different if it were a puppy or a plant—but these are living and breathing kids and we know nothing about raising kids. My love, we're only in our twenties..."

"But—"

"You should've called first." He cuts you off, his tone still soft , but firm. You’re at least grateful he’s called you your pet name. "You should've called me and asked."

"You would've said no..."

"How do you know? You never called me." There isn't resentment in Kenma's words. Its still  playful and light, but you can feel his hurt and you feel dumb because you know exactly why. "I would've liked to have been included in this decision...especially since this is my home and you are my girlfriend, and you promised that we would make decisions together."

You frown, tears brimming to the surface as you realized what you've done and how you've probably made him feel.You denied him of his choice, and you were silly to believe that it was okay to go over his head and behind his back.

As you whisper a string of apologies, Kenma presses his forehead onto yours, smiling at you. He was angry at first, but not so much anymore.

"Are you going to break up with me?" You sniffle, voice breaking at the thought. "I'd understand if you wanted to break up with me...But I just—I really wanted to help them. I'm so sorry I didn't ask you first, I couldn't just leave them—"

"Shhh," His breath fans against your skin, "I'm not breaking up with you, stupid. Given, this is probably the biggest wild card you've thrown at me by far, but its not enough for me to break up with you."

You hide your face into dip of his neck, sobbing into the material of his sweater, letting go of the strength you had from holding back and stain it with your tears. You had always been reckless, but it never turned him off. He never raised his voice, he always heard you out, and even when you slipped up, he always forgave you in a heartbeat.

It makes you question if you’re deserving of such a love as this. 

“I was very angry and very offended,” Kenma begins, “I didn’t like what you did. It made me feel like you couldn’t trust me, and it made me feel like you saw me as some kind of terrible person that would turn away kids that need a home...”

You shake your heard, muttering a “no” to his assumption. 

Kenma runs his fingers through your hair and down to your back, soothing you until you've caught your breaths. He'll soft press his lips against the crown of your head, discreetly swiping the little sweat off his lips to keep you from being offended.

"S-So, what do we do about the kids?" Your question muffled but Kenma can hear you just fine.

He sighs, and as he's about to pull you away from his chest, you tighten your hold around his waist. "Please look at me," Your shoulders fall and you pout when you come face to face with him. He chuckles at how ridiculously childish you look, "Do you really want to do this?"

Your eyes widen, "Y-yes. I want to do this, but if you don't want—"

"Better us than anyone else, right?" You blink at him, processing. "I don't know shit about kids, but if you really want to do this, I'll support you. But you can't expect me to be good at this."

Kenma falls onto your shoulder and rests all his weight onto you, letting out a sigh. Panic envelopes his heart, his stomach flipping and churning as he stresses over all the things that's yet to come.

“We’ve been dating for four years, and I’ve just only gotten the hang of you now...” He admits in a heavy sigh.

I'm still a kid, he thinks, groaning. He's plays games all day, forgets to shower, and doesn't know how to cook either. He works from home, rarely goes out unless he needs to or if you want to. Out of the both of you, you're--surprisingly-- more put together than he is.

Can he really do this?

"Please don't expect much from me," He begs, "I don't do well with kids, and you even took in a grown one. What if it doesn't like me or if it forget to feed it?"

You chew on your lip, holding back a laugh and quietly smile to yourself. Vulnerability paints well on your boyfriend, and you wish for even more moments like this.

“I promise it’ll only be until we kind find some other arrangement for them...Something better." You’re not entirely confident in your words, but you understand the idea of having them stay with you isn’t the most sound solution. 

"I suppose if we mess up, we'll mess it up together." He says in defeat, sprawling his legs open before wrapping it around you, pulling you as close to him as possible. He cradles your body tightly just as Yuki had done. "You don't understand how unbelievably lucky you are that I love you."

[wesimpforxiao]

Inception: Chapter 3

You were busy humming away and cleaning the dishes when Childe eyed your bed again.  He couldn't shake the feeling that this was where you'd hide evidence if there was any to begin with.  He glanced in your direction and shifted off of the couch, careful not to make the couch squeak from his movements.

No sooner did he crouch at your bedside that he could see the glint of something with a distinct shade of red.  He pulled what looked to be a large laundry bag out from under the bed, his hand rummaging around to find one of the domestic Fatui masks that only covered the eyes.  

From the looks of it, these are all the stolen masks, he scanned beneath the bed once more, but found nothing but dust bunnies.  So Zhongli was right about you.  What have you been up to, girlie?  The sound of the facet turning off warned Childe that it would be seconds before you turn around and see what he was doing.  

"You've been awfully quiet over there, Aj-" You spun on your heel and noticed him kneeling at your bed with widening eyes.  "-Hey, what're you doing?!"

Childe doesn't do deception--well, besides lying to you and Teucer, that is.  Then there was the time with Aether...Okay, maybe he does a bit of deception, but...He kept his ground and didn't answer.

Panicked, you ran over to him.  "Whatever you're doing, put it back! You don't go snooping around for ladies' panties when they invite you over, do you?!"  You came to a halt when you saw him holding one of your prizes, expecting him to do something, anything than what he did next.

Childe peered over with a sly grin and lifted the mask high in the air for you to see.  "What's this, Reed? Don't tell me this is for some sort of roleplay...?"

"Eh?!"  He watched you turn beet red in a heartbeat with amusement--and suspicion.  "N-No! Not at all!"

The ball was in his court now, and he spiked it back.  "What's wrong ojou-chan?  I was only asking if you do it for performances like the opera.  Don't tell me you were thinking something dirty-"

"Shut it! Shut up!" You reached for the mask, but the man got to his feet and towered over you so you couldn't grab it.  "Give it back and stop going through my stuff! That's not the definition of 'make yourself at home,' you know!"

"So, what do you use these for?" A slight tilt of the head gestured to the bag of masks on the floor.  "They're Fatui masks.  Are you the one responsible for their disappearances after all?"

"Give me that-" You grabbed his forearm and heated the skin enough to make him lose his grip from surprise, but not enough to burn him.  Satisfied with regaining your prize, you shoved it back into the bag with a huff and kicked the whole thing back under the bed, ignoring the pain in your toe from hitting it too hard.  "Mind your own business."

"As much as I'd like to," Childe followed you back into the kitchen area while your mind was set on drying the dishes, "you've peaked my curiosity.  What're they for?"

"If you weren't snooping, I would've eventually told you," you grabbed one of the plates and a towel that sat to your left.  "But since you decided to peek I think its within my right not to tell you anything."

"Oh-ho?" Hot breath brushed past the top of your ear and his chest pressed against your back so you were practically cornered against the counter.  "Then I guess it's within my right to believe whatever I want about you then? No matter how obscene or dirty?"

"Quit playing games with me, Ajax!"  He could see how red your ears were, and your flustered state was more than apparent since heat was practically radiating off your back.  It seems he's learned something new about you; your pyro vision amplifies your flustered reactions...this information should be useful in determining any lies you might come up with.  "And back up, will you?  I c-can't move--"

"Tell me then," he teased.

"Ugh, I don't remember you being this annoying."  He heard you let out an agitated sigh before you slammed your towel down on the counter and replaced the dishes back to their normal spots in a cupboard.  "Can you keep a secret?"

Delighted to hear your cooperation, Childe nodded and allowed you to move freely again.  "I know a thing or two in keeping secrets."

"I suppose it couldn't hurt to tell you...but what I tell you stays between you and me.  And you can't tell the Millelith--"

"I swear it."

"Okay, good.  You already know how much I hate the Fatui," you took the liberty to throw yourself onto the couch and roll over so there was enough space for him to sit next to you.  "I may or may not be getting some much-needed revenge on them for all the crap they've done."

"Oh?  How so?"

"Let's just say I play some pranks on them."  Childe scrunched his nose up as he discerned what exactly you meant by that.  "Oh, don't bring up that missing Fatui stuff with me.  I've only heard about it from you; my involvement with the Fatui usually ends in them getting bruises or occasionally a broke bone."

"You've said you don't like to fight, but you sound like quite the troublemaker."

"I only fight if absolutely necessary.  Sooner or later the harbinger that tried to drown us all will turn up again, and when he does, he won't be excluded from my list."

"You have a list?"  The awkward laugh that left him sounded more nervous than intended.

"Er...not really.  Anyone that's Fatui is my target.  There's not a single good person in that organization."

"Is that so?"  Childe turned to your fireplace and thought to himself.  For a brief moment the friendly façade he put on faltered to reveal lifeless eyes.  But just as quickly as the mask cracked, it melded back together to form a smile.  "You may be right about that, ojou-chan!"

.........................

It appears she truly has no involvement with the missing persons reports, Childe reviewed all the information he gathered on you as he left your apartment and entered the bustling nightlife of Liyue's streets.  He had no intention of reprimanding you for your attacks against his men; you posed as little of a threat as a fly.  Of course, that determination of your abilities didn't stop him from wanting to spar with you; you may have a chance to surprise him, especially if you were fated to discover his real identity...Was it bad that the idea of you finding out excited him?  To face you head-on while you're in a fit of rage--that would be oh-so thrilling.

Oh!  For a split second he glanced back at your distant apartment window.  'Fire isn't something I want to play with.'  And she even neglected to summon a flame...The attacked don't even have a burn on them.  It was true that those wielding the same element would have a certain resistance to injuries made by that element, but to not have a single blister on them?  Either you were incredibly weak, or you've never used it on the agents.

To rely on your own physical strength in a world of elemental beings...you're a brave one aren't you, Reed?  Perhaps after all these years apart there was some part of you like him--one that was fearless against foes, one that charges into battle rather than run from it.  You were cautious--a trait he did not possess--and smart, too.  Whatever role you play now is sure to be an interesting one regardless of the outcome.

As for that small part of you that's like him...well, he'll have to drag it out.

"Master Childe!"  The harbinger visibly tensed and whipped his head in the direction of your apartment to ensure he was far away enough not to be seen by you.  "Sir!"

"Shh!"  A harsh glare shut the agent up, but realizing his actions, Childe played it off with a laugh.  "Aha...apologies!  Why don't we walk--"  He guided the agent away from your window's view.

"Master Childe," the man spoke in a hushed tone that made it obvious the shushing had intimidated him, "we seem to be having trouble contacting another one of our agents..."

Childe's face fell.  "It's late.  Are you sure it's not possible they're attending a dinner party, or perhaps an opera?"

"No, no.  We've been trying to get in touch with him all day, but he never answered his door.  He never asked for leave, either--"

"--Give me the address."

The housing setup for the Fatui in the Liyue Division was quite similar to that of Mond's--that is, agents were located in a single hotel during their deployment.  These living quarters overlooked most of the city and were located on the opposite side of town from your apartment.  It was quite the walk, so you often ended up hiding in the funeral parlor while furious agents scoured the streets in search of the vigilante during the early morning hours.  Perhaps an even greater advantage is that the hotel and the Northland Bank were about ten minutes apart from one another, giving you just enough time to escape the chaos before the agents could call for reinforcements.

Childe entered the missing agent's room alone.  He had sent the messenger back to wherever he came from; working alone would be much less distracting.  The room was dark and the only light source came from the open window to the right.  He didn't miss a beat to light the nearest candle and explore the room more.  

The place was neat--too neat for a bachelor agent in his twenties.  Everything was in its rightful spot, from the books strewn about to the weapons displayed along the walls.  Even the clothes were neatly folded in their drawers and the uniforms neatly hung in the closet.  On a second look, this was an abnormality.

You see, agents are given three of each uniform component to ensure consistency in case something were to happen to the clothing in battle.  To put it simply there were three coats, three pairs of gloves, three pairs of shirts and trousers alike, three pairs of boots, and three masks.  Each one was resting in the closet.

So he abandons his post without informing his lead officer, leaves his uniforms...Childe returned to the dresser and yanked the drawers out once more.  Everything that should be there, was.  And the clothes hamper next to the dresser was empty.  "He left with the clothes on his back?"  No, it's too soon to draw conclusions.  Still...this is how every missing agent would disappear.  No dirty dishes, untouched clothes, and their uniforms neatly put away.  It wouldn't raise any red flags if this hadn't happened before.

Childe scanned the room for the last time before he pinched the candle nub.  Every agent that disappears does so without a trace or clue of where they could've went.  Perhaps they're taken at night, after their shifts end or when they're enjoying Liyue's nightlife?  Reed couldn't have done this.  It's too elaborate even for her antics.  This is the work of something big...but what?

As he walked back to his apartment, he was unable to come up with the answers.

.........

"What festival is this again?"  Childe was glued to your side as the two of you strolled through the main street of the city.  It was lit up with lanterns that cast a warm glow upon his red hair.  Despite both of your busy schedules, your childhood friend still had the audacity to ask you to show him around the festivities since he had only recently moved his work to Liyue.  You were a bit reluctant at first, but this would be a great opportunity to get closer to him since your previous meetings were short.  And with the streets crowded with tourists and locals, it made Childe all the more difficult to be spotted by his subordinates.

"It's called the Lantern Rite," you answer with your gaze preoccupied by the fires lit beneath the stoves of the local restaurants.  "It's meant to celebrate the lives and sacrifices of the adepti."

"I see.  This is certainly different than Snezhnaya, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh."

Childe's eyes flicked down to you.  Why were you so disinterested?  Was he boring you? Or perhaps you weren't into festivities anymore?  His nose crinkled as he thought, then his nostrils picked up on a delicious aroma.  Seafood!  "How about I buy us something to eat?"

"Hm?  Like what?"  Your question was answered once you followed his stare, and your heart dropped.  The stall he was eyeing just happened to be next to some sort of stunt show.  That's new, you grumbled inwardly as you watched visionless people spin fire without a smidge of hesitation in their movements.  Since when were their performers during the Lantern Rite?

"How about something reminiscent of our homeland? I've been feeling a bit homesick these past few weeks."  He stepped forward, but your feet were planted firmly on the ground.  "Reed?"  

"...I'll wait here.  Go ahead."

The harbinger's shoulders slouched in disappointment.  Maybe you weren't in the mood to hang out with him after all.  Still, he wasn't the kind of guy to be dissuaded so easily; he picked himself back up and walked over to the vendor.  While he waited to be served, Childe admired the street performers that danced in the middle of the walkway.  They didn't have visions, yet they exuded themselves with such poise that most vision wielders lacked.  Their elegance inspired him, and he had a difficult time refraining from joining in.

The look of pure awe didn't go unnoticed by you, where you now stood in the shadows as far from the performers as possible.  He was definitely enjoying the show--a little more than you'd like.  Your gaze returned to the poi and staffs that were lit ablaze and twirling through the air.  And just like Childe's look of awe was noticed, your cynic stare was noticed by him as well when he was back with food.  

You hadn't even realized he returned.

"Your crab roe tofu, ojou-chan," he held the tray out for you to take.

"...thanks..."

A second glance to the fire wielders, and Childe confirmed his suspicions.  "Well this is certainly a surprise."  His chuckle yanked you back to the present.  "Ironic, too."  You snatched the tray away without saying anything and stuffed tofu into your mouth.  "What's a girl with pyrophobia doing with a pyro vision?  That seems a bit cruel even for the God of War and Flame."

"I-I'm not afraid of it."  Your skin flushed a faint pink at the words while you glared at him.

"You're not?  Then please explain why your stove and furnace have never been touched.  If you ask me, it's pretty obvious."  Your silence caught him off guard.  You always bantered back, but this time you couldn't even look in his direction.  

It was difficult to blink the tears away as the memory of a burning house flashed through your mind--the thick smoke that coated your lungs, the sticky heat that threatened to burn you alive, the screams of your mother...And when Ajax disappeared the next day too, only for you to think the Fatui had got him too--Or the memory of his return, and when you tell him the news of your father he didn't even care.

Does he even remember his response?

You weren't hungry anymore.  "I have a better way to spend the night.  How about we spar?"

[winterscaptain]

arrangements.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: i LOVED writing this one, and i’ll have you know that the kitchen scene was taken directly from my life - when my yiayia passed, my theo came to stay with us and did the exact same routine my yiayia and i used to do in the morning so my mom could sleep in. when my mom woke up in a panic, she heard us in the kitchen and knew she could go back to sleep :’)

an ajf fic arc that happily stands on its own! (the pieces stand alright on their own as well, for the most part!) one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven

words: 1.8k warnings: food mention

summary: “so long as we love we serve; so long as we are loved by others, i would almost say that we are indispensable; and no man is useless while he has a friend.” ― robert louis stevenson, lay morals

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

You pad down the hallway, fingertips gently pushing the cracked door to what was formerly Jack and Haley’s room when they lived with Jess. Now, Aaron and Jack take the room while you take the couch. 

Nobody wants to be alone.

Jack’s awake, his eyes tracing the patterns in the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. 

When he sees you, he smiles and opens his mouth. You press a finger to your lips before pointing at Aaron, still sleeping. Be quiet, baby. 

You step further into the room, leaving the door open, and gingerly pull the covers away from Jack so you can pick him up. He immediately latches onto you and you straighten, leaving the door cracked as you leave the hallway.

When you’re down the hall and past the arch of the kitchen, you can finally talk. “Alright, Jack. What do you want for breakfast?” You set him on the counter in Jess’s kitchen, ruffling his hair. 

You’re exhausted, having barely slept last night, but Jess and Aaron have a whole day of planning and funeral arrangements ahead of them. Jack’s breakfast and morning routines are the last things they need to worry about. 

He thinks for a minute. “Cereal.” 

“Alright, bud.” You open the cabinet, displaying the options. “Do we want Cheerios, Frosted Flakes, or Kix? I think your dad has Chex in here, but -“

You make matching yuck faces. 

“Yeah, I thought so. So what’ll it be?”

“Cheerios.” 

+++

Down the hall, Aaron wakes in the guest room with a start, finding Jack’s side of the bed empty. He throws himself out of bed and only stops when he hears your voices in the kitchen. 

“...Cheerios it is, then. Do you want to use your monkey bowl, or do you want to use a big bowl and we can share?”

He heaves a sigh of relief. 

“Big bowl.” 

You laugh a little, and it almost brings a smile to his face. “You sure? That’s pretty ambitious.” Nevertheless, he hears a light clink of ceramic as you pull one of the deep bowls from the cabinet by the sink. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

He sounds exceedingly confident for someone who eats like a bird. 

“Alright. Breakfast will be a team effort, then.” 

Aaron creeps forward, surprisingly light on his feet, knowing there’s a place in the hall where he can see into the kitchen without getting caught. 

You’re still in your pajamas and so is Jack. The boy watches as you pour a decently-sized bowl of cereal - just about enough for a four-year-old and a late twenty-something to share. Aaron’s eyes follow the casual touches you bestow as you set up, pressing your palms to the sides of his face and kissing the top of his head, running your hand over his shoulders as you pass him for a pair of spoons, helping him settle on your hip with one arm while you grab the cereal with your other hand. 

They’re alright. 

Without thinking too much more about it, he turns around and goes back to bed, flopping down like a bag of rocks and falling right back to sleep on top of the covers. 

He’s too tired to do much else. 

+++

You’re with Jack most of the morning, and you’re almost surprised Aaron hasn’t already been running around in a panic to find him. 

After breakfast, it’s cartoons and then reading. He helps you fold the blankets from your makeshift bed on the couch - you make a game out of it before you settle down. 

Aaron rises again to hear you reading The Giving Tree, and he does his best to swallow his tears. If he thinks hard enough, he can remember what that book sounds like in Haley’s voice. 

It’s already harder than it should be. More than half his life knowing her, and he’s terrified of forgetting what her voice sounds like, what her laugh feels like in his arms, the exact color of her eyes. 

“‘Then one day the boy came to the tree and the tree said, ‘Come, Boy, come and climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and eat apples and play in my shade and be happy.’ 

“‘I am too big to climb and play,’ said the boy…”

Aaron sits in the hallway, against the wall and out of your sight, and closes his eyes, listening to you read. 

He took a shaky breath as you reached the end of the story. There were tears pressing in at your voice, but you did an excellent job of remaining steady as you continued to read. 

“...’I don’t need very much now,’ said the boy. ‘Just a quiet place to sit and rest. I am very tired.’

“‘Well,’ said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could, ‘well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.’ 

“And the boy did.” You pause, turning the final page. “And the tree was happy.” 

There’s quiet for a moment. 

“Why are you sad?” Jack asks. 

“That story always makes me feel so much that sometimes the feelings come out of my eyes, but I’m not sad, bud. I’m alright.” 

“Oh. Does that happen?”

You hum. “Does what happen?”

Aaron can almost see the thoughts working across Jack’s face. “Do sometimes you not know what you’re feeling when you’re crying?”

“Yeah, that happens, sometimes.” There’s a shift, and Aaron’s fairly sure you set the book down and brought him further into your arms. “The more words you know, though, the easier it is to figure out what you’re feeling.”

“How many words do you know?”

You huff a laugh. It almost makes Aaron smile. “I know a lot of words. Between me, your dad, and Uncle Spencer, we probably know all the words.” 

Then, Jack screeches a laugh and Aaron knows you’re tickling him within an inch of his life. 

That’s a good enough excuse as any to ‘wake up,’ I suppose. 

He rises and wipes his tears away, mindful of his double black eyes and the cut across his nose. He probably looks a fright, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

You look up as he rounds the corner and you offer him a small smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” 

You push Jack off your lap and he easily scrambles toward Aaron, who picks him up with only the smallest twinge of protest. 

“Oh, be careful with Dad, honey.” You remind him, leaning over the couch.

Aaron kisses Jack’s temple. “You’re alright, bud. Just no jumping on me for a couple of days, okay?” 

Jack nods, tucking under his chin. “We had breakfast.”

“Did you?” He asks, looking at you like he doesn’t know. 

You nod. “I can put something together for you, if you’d like.” 

“We’ve got to get going. We’ve got -” He stops for a second. “We’ve got things to take care of today, so we need to get Jack ready to go.” 

Standing, you stretch and level him with an unamused look. “Nope. Not having that. I’m making you and Jess breakfast and taking Jack for the day so you can do what you need to do without worrying about anything. Just let me know when you’re done so I can have what I assume will be dinner ready when you get back.” 

He raises an eyebrow, but it’s not as animated as his dubious looks have been in the past. Is it worth arguing with you?

You mirror his look. Is it ever? 

He sighs and looks at Jack again, telling him that he’ll stay here with you while, “Aunt Jess and I run some errands. Does that sound okay?”

Jack looks over at you and you nod encouragingly. 

“That sounds okay.” 

His parroting draws the smallest smiles from Aaron, who kisses Jack’s temple again, breathing him in. You can’t even imagine what’s going through Aaron’s head right now. If it were you, you’d never want to let him out of your sight ever again. 

When he sets Jack back on his feet, Aaron turns back, headed for the hall bathroom. You get Jack settled with the second round of cartoons for the morning, and make your way down the hallway. 

Aaron’s leaning with his hands braced on the edge of the sink, staring straight down. “Hi.” 

“Hey.” You stay put in the doorway, giving him some space. 

He takes a shaky breath and lets it out heavily through his mouth. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“It would be absolutely batshit if you did, Aaron. You’re supposed to feel that way.”

He’s quiet, still. 

“But you’re not alone. I’m here as long as you want, Aaron. I’m not going anywhere.” You step forward, slowly and deliberately so he knows you’re coming. 

He loves you so much. Even though Jack’s in the other room, you’re the only one keeping his feet on the floor. He’d have let himself waste away without you here. 

Jess does her best, but she’s trying to bury her sister. That, of course, comes with its own nightmarish baggage. 

You wait for him, standing at his side until he can finally straighten up and open his eyes. They’re so tired. You wonder if the sleep he’s had has been any sort of useful. 

He opens one of his arms, and you wrap yourself around him, your hands flat against his abdomen. 

“I wish I could do more for you. For Jack.”

You can feel him shake his head. “You have no idea what it means to us to have you here.”

“I miss her.”

He heaves a sigh, and you’re glad to hear it’s deeper than a few days ago. He is, after all, still healing. “Me too.”

“Take your time today. I can always delegate tasks if you run out of energy and need to call it.” You stare at a random spot on the wall as you talk, your cheek pressed against him. 

“What would I do without you?”

You shake your head. “I dunno. You’d probably spend less of your time annoyed at work, but the rest of it would be pretty boring.” You pause. “Your TMJ would probably be a lot worse, too.”

There’s no laugh, but you think maybe he thought about it. After a moment, “Thank you.”

I love you. 

“Anytime.”

I love you. 

+++

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[swanpyart]

The Short Lived Adventures of RAPH and Casey Jones

This is an old pic that was made for a zine that was never published. So I’ll leave it here. It might not ever be finished, but I think the story is decent enough on its own.

Part 1:

Casey was completely fine by herself.

Sure, her parents never really paid her any mind, but she never needed them to; Casey was a fast learner, and was able to cook, clean, and do pretty much anything the adults could do.

“Look!” Ten-year-old Casey held up an English vocabulary test, with an “100%” written in the corner in cursive. “I passed!”

“Honey,” her mother barely looked at her from her seat at her desk, “One hundred percent is the bare minimum. Anything less means you practically failed.”

There was always an empty space in the bleachers whenever Casey had a hockey game. She would cross her arms as she waited for her parents to pick her up and watched as the people in the audience rushed down and hugged their own children after a game, regardless of whether they won or lost. When her parents finally showed up, she sat in the car quietly as they drove.

Casey spent almost everyday after school at her Granny’s while her parents were at work. The old woman’s house was always warm, mostly because she was always baking; cakes, cookies, and especially her famous brownies - made with a special ingredient.

At twelve years old, Casey had failed a math test for the first time, and burst into tears as she walked through her Granny’s front door. “I’m a failure!”

“Sweetie, everyone fails every now and then,” her Granny wiped a tear from Casey’s cheek and got out an antique mixing bowl, “but I can tell you tried really hard. That’s what matters; that you don’t stop trying your best.”

Afterwards, Casey and her Granny spent the afternoon baking brownies, and that was when she was granted the knowledge of the secret ingredient. She swore her secrecy and never told anyone.

Of course, that was a while ago; her grandmother had passed away sometime afterwards. Her parents reacted with more emotion when Casey had shaved her head than when they attended the funeral.

They also seemed only mildly surprised when, at thirteen years old, Casey was accepted into the Foot Clan and never came back home.

There, Casey promised to herself to show the world just how much of a not-failure she really is! Even if she had to work with the most vile Clan in all the world to achieve it and release the Shredder, the ultimate evil, unto the world. She had worked above and beyond to get where she is, and no one could stop her!

At least, that’s what she thought before the Shredder disappeared, and with him, the Clan’s purpose. And way before those strange, overgrown turtles with no sense of honor or discipline showed up and destroyed their chances, time and time again.

Suddenly, the group she had worked with since she was a preteen, and the closest thing she had to any family, were dragged away by outside obligations she never understood.

Foot Brute and Lieutenant were better parents than her own, but, in the end, they were her bosses and coworkers, and no replacement for a family.

Sure, everyone else may have given up, but she would stay committed to the Clan’s ultimate vision, even if she had to use her dear Granny’s recipe for evil. Grandma CJ’s Brownies were an absolute bust, but she had to try something.

Then, she met this weird, giant, smelly rat with a Japanese accent dressed like a teenager who somehow turned out to be the father of those overgrown turtles.

And, as weird as it was, despite not even being human, he sat next to her and heard what she had to say; and, for those few minutes, it was almost like being next to her Granny again.

“Just because you failed doesn’t make you a failure.”

If she had been smarter, maybe she should have listened a bit harder to what he was saying. If she had been smarter, maybe she would have calmed down and talked to the girl that was beating up the Girl Scouts. There were so many opportunities to just talk.

But then the Shredder was restored, and she really thought it would be the return of her Clan’s glory. Even as she looked at the beaten down forms of her previous bosses. Even as she saw Splinter and his family struggling for their lives. Even as she realized winning would mean the end of everything, including her.

There was no more Clan. She was still alone. She was just alone with a giant evil suit of demon armor.

But, now, she wasn’t.

Even after everything, Splinter offered her an invitation into their...

Family.

------------------------------------------------------

He had invited her to the lair a few weeks after the fight with Shredder.

“I’m working at the Foot Shack. After my former clan disbanded, they got bought out by another company, Splinter, sir.” She squeezed the mug of tea in her hands.

“Just ‘Splinter’ is fine,” Splinter had opened a bag of chips, and was reclining in his seat. The turtles were out with April at the arcade, taking a break from repairing the lair. “Where are you staying? Do you have a place to live?”

“Yes, I actually have my own apartment.”

There was a moment of awkward silence. Splinter sighed. “Listen, Casey, I know that it’s probably hard having to... uh, sort things out by yourself-”

“What?! No, I’m fine!” She flapped her hand dismissively. “My life is fantastic! It’s definitely not in complete shambles after losing everything I know.” She blinked, realizing that she overshared, and collected herself. “I’m doing great.”

“I-I never said it was in shambles,” He massaged his temple with two clawed fingers, his beady eyes squinting in frustration. “Look, all I am saying is that, if you ever need help, or if you ever get lonely and just want to talk, I am here. And my sons would probably say the same thing. You’re a Hamato now, at least in spirit.”

Casey’s eyes widened, then she looked down. “Thank you, but I’m a very independent person. I’ll be sure to not bug you unless it’s an emergency.”

Splinter nodded, but he’d dealt with enough children to see that Casey was a bit lonely. Still, he said nothing.

For a good while, Casey stuck to what she said; she didn’t really come by the lair unless she really felt the need to or if they needed an extra set of hands with repairing.

But… occasionally, she found herself asking questions. She found out Michelangelo loved cooking, and somehow he got her to agree to bake her Granny’s brownies together. She realized that Leonardo wasn’t just annoying in battle, but all the time, and that she started getting more and more used to it, even occasionally laughing along. She found out while playing video games with them, that Donnatello was just as vicious as her, and that April was equally as competitive.

And Raph, well… they didn’t talk very much. But he seemed nice every time they spoke.

But she kept her distance. After all, it was better if she didn’t get too attached.

She occasionally goes down to the local hockey rink and plays a few rounds with total strangers, and usually gets kicked out due to a combo of delinquent children and complaining parents.

So, here she is, lying on her bed, staring blankly at her phone, with a half eaten sandwich laying on her chest, and old sweatpants that she’s been wearing for a week because her clothes are in the laundromat. For a ninja-slash-ex-cult-member, her life had fallen into a fairly mundane pattern.

Everything could always be worse. So why did she still feel like such a failure?

And for some reason, Casey found herself at the sewer grate. She didn’t even know why she came here, really.

She was about to turn back when a feminine voice spoke from behind her. “Hey, CJ, what’s up?”

She spun around. It was April.

“I was just coming to visit.” Casey tensed up. She hadn’t expected to run into someone else.

“Oh, me too!” She opened up the grate, and started climbing down the ladder. “You coming or what?”

Casey gulped. She couldn’t back out now.

------------------------------------------------------

Raph paced the lair, quietly groaning as he tapped his chin.

It had been about six months since the fight with Shredder, but another challenge had presented itself; cleaning up the lair after it had been almost completely demolished. Thankfully, with Draxum’s help and Donnie being able to scavenge some old tech that didn’t get destroyed and whip up some devices for reconstruction, the place was finally fixed up after about a month and a half.

Now what? Well, in Leo’s words, it was the time for “rest and relaxation.”

That was pretty easy for the rest of his family to do.

Leo’s entire existence hinged on “rest and relaxation”; Mikey has an assortment of hobbies to keep him busy; Donnie had a tight schedule trying to repair all of his broken inventions; April was trying to adjust to all of the changes at school due to all of New York recovering from the recent Battle Nexus catastrophe; and Splinter, of course, was parked in front of the TV, finally at peace after the Shredder was defeated, and helping himself to milk and cake.

Raph should be relaxing, or at least recovering from all that’s happened to them. The fight with the Shredder was the most stressful and terrifying time of their lives. They lost their Gram-Gram, and even if she was now able to rest with their ancestors and her father, it still stung.

But it’s been such a long time since he’s been in a real fight, and he can tell he’s going a little bit stir-crazy.

Of course, the turtles would spend a lot of time out of the lair; but whenever Raph gets a call on the phone, he finds himself hoping it’s some kind of an emergency, only to turn out to be Todd calling them about the puppy farm, or Leo pestering Senior Hueso with an order for pick-up. It seemed like even their strongest enemies have gone on hiatus as well; there was no word of Big Mama as of late, and every other major bad guy they fought recently seemed to have been exhausted by the Shredder ordeal as well.

Raph’s usual sparring partner, Frankenfoot, is absolutely wonderful, but fighting him wasn’t exactly what Raph had in mind; it was fun, but couldn’t really be compared to the thrill of a real fight.

“Come on, guys,” Raph stood in front of the screen, blocking Leo and Mikey’s view of a Jupiter Jim rerun while Pops was passed out on the couch, snoring, a bag of chips lying open on his stomach. “We’ve been cooped up in the lair for a million years. Who wants to go wreck some bad guys?” He pounded his fist in his opposite hand for emphasis.

“Raph, I can’t see!” Mikey waved his hand in a dismissive way as he said it, and leaned to peek around his older brother and continue watching the screen.

“Ugh, we’ve been over this,” Leo exasperated from his spot on the ground, on his stomach and his head resting on his propped arms. “No crime fighting while we’re on vacation! This is the time to chillax, my guy.”

“How long are we gonna be chillaxing, exactly?” Raph put his hands on his hips, an inquisitive look on his face, even if, deep down, he knew what response he’d get.

“I don’t know, until some other crazy evil mutant guy tries to take over the city? There’s bound to be another one of those eventually.”

“What, so we just wait until some evil mastermind has some evil plan and gets all of New York in their evil clutches? It’s our job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” Raph tried to summon the energy he usually exudes when he attempts to make a rousing speech, but the rolling eyes and groans from his youngest brothers quickly made its effect futile.

“You know,” Donnie said from the back of the room, the other three having not noticed him walk in, “We did, oh, I don’t know, save all of New York City, take down Big Mama’s Battle Nexus scheme, and, most importantly, defeat our bloodline’s greatest enemy?!”

Raph furrowed his brow, his sharp fang digging into his lower lip.

“We deserve an indefinite break, and I need it, because I actually refuse to do any fighting until I have all my stuff back online. I’d love to fight with only my impeccable mind, but let’s be realistic.” The sandwich in his hand was brought to his face and he swallowed it whole. Donnie knew he had made an excellent point.

“Don’t worry,” Mikey beamed, tucking his arms and legs into his shell, “We’ll get back into the groove of things before you know it!”

“Yeah,” Leo agreed, “Think of it as, like, you know, self-care. Sometimes, you need a break from what you’re used to. Now, can you move out of the way?”

Raph sulked out of his siblings’ view of the screen and sunk into a beanbag, next to the couch their father was snoring in.

------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, guys!” The turtles turn around to see April and... Foot Recruit walk in.

Raph didn’t really know what to think of Foot Recruit, or Casey, as she preferred to be called. Pops insisted that she wasn’t dangerous anymore, but it was hard for him not to be a little wary; I mean, come on, she used to work with the Shredder!

 She’d been over only a handful of times over the past few months, usually to speak with Splinter and Mikey.

“Casey! April!” Mikey stuck his hands out of his shell in joy. He ran over and hugged them both. “It’s been a while.”

“Hey, Apes. And, hi to you too, Casey.” Leo kicked his legs up behind him.

“Above ground has been pretty hectic,” April leaned on Donnie’s shoulder as she spoke, “Everyone has been freaking out about disappearing from New York for a few days. Relaxing on a yacht sure beats coming back to the city in shambles. And finding another job is so hard when everyone’s paranoid we’re gonna all disappear again. Ugh, I wish we did, then I’d get another break!”

“Well, if you want a job, you can help me repair what’s left of my s- I mean, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. The Shredder tore him apart.” Donnie put his hands on his hips and relaxed his posture to cover his slip-up.

“Aw, your cute robot son isn’t repaired yet?” April teased.

As the two bickered while walking towards the lab, Raph looked back at Casey, who was standing by the entrance, visibly tense. 

“Hey, Casey. Um, why are you here?” Raph asked innocently, not realizing how rude he sounded.

“Smooth,” Leo chimed in unhelpfully.

Before he could take it back, Casey spoke, with a glare on her face. “I’m here for the orange one.”

Raph blinked. “Huh?”

“We’re gonna bake brownies!” Mikey clarified, his chest puffed out with pride. “Casey decided that I’m worthy of learning an old family recipe.”

“Yes!” Casey grinned, in a way that was far too menacing for someone talking about brownies. “I decided that, as a new member of your- um…” clan? Group? Committee?

“...Family?” Raph assisted.

“Uh, yes, that,” she turned shy for a few brief seconds, only to return to her previous bravado, pumping her fist in the air, “I will honor you with the knowledge of my grandmother’s most nefarious secret!”

------------------------------------------------------

Raph peeked into the kitchen as Mikey and Casey got to work. Of course, he trusted Mikey; but he had a hunch that Casey might be up to something.

Or maybe the boredom was just making him a bit more paranoid than usual.

Dirty dishes, half-full cups and brownie mix were strewn about the kitchen counter. Whatever this recipe pertained, it must be pretty intense.

“And, now, for the final ingredient. This one was given to me by my grandmother.” Casey pulled a canister of brown powder. She leaned over and whispered close to Mikey’s head. Whatever she was saying, Raph couldn’t hear.

Mikey gasped. “PUMPKIN SPICE?!”

Casey shushed him, then yelled herself. “It’s a secret, remember?!” She poured a generous amount into the mixing bowl full of batter.

The two of them looked so happy baking together, and Raph felt a pit of guilt in his stomach for assuming the worst. He really needed to chill out.

------------------------------------------------------

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” Leo sunk into the bean bag chair, “You’re a fan of Lou Jitsu, right?”

“That is correct.” Casey was sitting stiffly in her seat. Her expressions were intense, like she was about to strangle someone, but Raph had realized pretty quickly that this was just her default.

“You have all of the movies memorized?”

“Of course! I used his guidelines for self improvement in my schemes to take over the world! I mean, that’s not really relevant now, but-”

“And you said you spend almost all of your available money on Lou Jitsu merch?”

“I hide them all so my guests don’t see.”

“And, yet, you’ve never watched a Jupiter Jim film? The Jupiter Jim, his longtime franchise rival and co-star in Jupiter Jim Vs Lou Jitsu?” Leo clutched at his chest, as he held up the DVD case of the movie he was talking about for emphasis.

“Leo,” Raph warned, looking up from his phone, “don’t make her feel bad-”

Leo chuckled. “Oh ho ho, trust me I won’t. I’m definitely putting on a Jupiter Jim Vs. The Galaxy Riders Part 1 and Part 2, and you are going to love it!”

Casey cackled ominously. “You really think this ‘Jupiter Jim-’” She made quotation marks with her fingers for emphasis, “-can measure up to the greatness that is Lou Jitsu? Fine, I guess we’ll just have to see.”

Raph ended up dozing off after the fifth film, and woke up to see Casey and his brother still openly debating whether Lou Jitsu would beat Jupiter Jim if they were both in a desert completely unarmed and at full strength.

------------------------------------------------------

“I’m not scared of much,” Donnie mentions offhandedly one day, while Raph was doing a bicep curl, “but she -”

He points to Casey eating a sandwich like a hyena, while April sat next to her, texting.

“She terrifies me to no end.”

Donnie’s strange relationship with their new friend took Raph a while to comprehend. Then it became clear as day. If anyone could match Casey in moral ambiguity, it was his immediate younger brother.

“I made you a little gift,” the softshell grinned smugly, as he handed Casey what looked like a metal hockey stick.

“Oh, um,” Casey's eyes were wide, and a little watery, and her lips were in a warbly smile. “Thank you… no one’s ever given me something so nice.”

Donnie grinned. “Press the button on the side.”

When she did, the widest end of the hockey stick flipped open like a lighter, and a stream of fire shot out of the tip. Casey’s tears of joy gave way to maniacal laughter. “Those kids at the hockey rink won’t know what hit ‘em!”

Donnie joined her in glee, his eyes and teeth shining menacingly in the light of the flames. Raph watched in mild horror (He was plenty used to Donnie’s antics), at least until the fire alarm sounded and they were all drenched from the sprinklers.

------------------------------------------------------

Another month had passed since Casey started coming around, and Raph seemed like the only one in the lair who hadn’t quite jived with her yet. Sure, his suspicion had pretty much subsided, and he liked her company plenty, but the two of them hadn’t really clicked.

However, he noticed some slight changes over time. Casey’s eyes had bags under them which were more obvious in brighter lights, and sometimes she fell asleep on April’s shoulder (and snored louder than his Pops, somehow). Sometimes, there were hints of sadness on her face, even when she was laughing along with everyone.

Raph didn’t mention it for fear of being rude, but he couldn’t help his concern. After all, if she was upset, she probably wouldn’t mention to him all of the people.

------------------------------------------------------

Hockey wasn’t a sport Raph and his brothers knew much about, but he couldn’t help but get excited as Casey gushed about it, holding tightly onto the treasured tech-hockey stick Donnie had gifted her, wearing a huge grin on her face.

The two humans and four turtles (disguised as humans, of course) were just entering the hockey rink. The hall to the auditorium was cold and echoey.

“I come here every other Friday. The regulars here know my face, and they fear it. It’s ‘cause they know I’ll decimate everyone in my path!” She pumped her fist as she spoke, a sinister grin on her face, before she caught herself and straightened out. “Well, I do until the rink’s supervisors kick me out for making a scene and being mean to children.”

“Don’t sweat it, Casey,” Donnie spoke up, “You’re not the only one whose been kicked out of establishments for scaring kids.”

“Uh huh, exactly!” April agreed a bit too eagerly, and Raph looked back to see the distant, traumatized look in her eyes, and he could tell she was remembering the screams of children and the  sinister laughter of animatronics at a certain pizza joint.

The six teens got to the rink’s auditorium, and put their bags down on the bleachers. There weren’t too many people around.

Mikey whistled. “This place is massive!”

As Raph put on a maroon hoodie and pulled on his skates, Casey rolled onto the rink, over to a huddle of teenagers wearing hockey gear. “Hey!”

One of the teenagers - a boy with messy brown hair covering his eyes - responded. “Oh, you again. Guys, look, it’s that crazy girl from last week.”

“The name is Cassandra Jones!” Casey pulled down the hockey mask she was wearing and held up her stick. “I’m challenging you to another round! Did you really think you’d escape my wrath?!”

The kids started laughing. “You challenge us every time we’re here, and you always lose. What makes today so different?”

Casey laughed. “Well, for one thing, I’ve got my own team now, so you better get ready to go crying to your mommy!”

The group hadn’t stopped laughing, even as Casey walked back to the bleachers. Raph raised a brow. “Uh, what was all of that?”

She looked down. “Those are my enemies,” She clenched her fists, “A group of jerks who manage to beat me every time I come here.”

Raph paused for a second. The look on her face was determined, but had a hint of sadness to it. Raph understood how she felt; wanting to fight, but getting beaten down time and time again. He’d realized a while ago that he didn’t have to do it alone; and neither did she.

Raph put an arm around Casey’s shoulders, and cupped a hand to his mouth, shouting to the teenagers from across the rink. “Hey, knuckleheads! You get ready for a match; you’re not just dealing with Cassandra Jones anymore! you’re dealing with the Mad Dogs, now!”

“Yeah, right!” One of the kids, a girl with a ponytail, shouts back.

He turned to face his brothers and April, who were sitting on the bleachers, their attention already on Raph from his shouting. “Hey, those guys over there are saying we’re gonna lose! What do we say to that?!”

“Oh ho ho, I like this energy!” Leo stood up on the bleachers, joining in the hype. April and Mikey stood up beside him.

“Yeah, you chumps aren’t even at our level!”

“Ya’ll ain’t seen nothing yet!”

Donnie stood up slowly, his arms crossed from the cold. “Yeah, we’ll definitely beat you! But-” He switched to his normal volume, “let’s not make promises we can’t keep.”

Raph dismissed him, and looked at Casey, who was smiling. Together, they were able to beat the Shredder. This would be a piece of cake.

------------------------------------------------------

“Are we done? My mom is here to pick me up,” One of the kids, a girl with pigtails, mentioned as she walked towards her belongings on the bleachers.

Raph was gasping for air from his spot on the cold ground. Hockey was hard. Like, really, really hard.

In hindsight, their loss made sense; this was the turtles and April’s first time playing hockey, and even Casey, who’d been playing since she was a kid, wasn’t able to beat these kids. They really were just that good.

“Is that all you’ve got?!” Leo had fallen in front of the goal, two huge purple bruises visible on his face; one on his forehead, and the other under his eye, popping out from his green skin and red birthmarks.  

Mikey was crying on his knees, while April patted his shell, cussing out one of the kids who she felt pushed him too hard. Even as the kid was walking away. “And another thing-”

Donnie lay flat nearby, looking like a purple stain on the white shiny floor. He was never good at sports, but he tried. Geez, it was almost more embarrassing, with just how hard he tried.

------------------------------------------------------

They found a vending machine, and after Raph gave Leo a cold soda can to hold over his bruises, he walked past Casey, sitting with her head in her hands.

“Hey,” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and looked around to see if the others were watching. April, Mikey and Donnie were going off about losing the match, while Leo sat dejectedly in the corner, nursing his injuries. “Are you alright?”

She looked up, tears in her eyes, and her lower lip wobbling. She hastily rubbed at her face with her sleeve, her eyeliner smearing. “I’m...I’m fine.”

“Is this about us losing?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” She sighed. “It’s a lot of different things- It’s just…”

She trailed off, and Raph sat down next to her on the bleacher. He realized this had definitely been bubbling up for a while. If only he’d talked to her sooner.

“Ugh, all I’ve ever wanted was to be a success. Taking over the world was everything for me- helping the Foot, working for the Shredder, making that whole brownie pyramid-scheme. But now? I don’t have anything. I’ve hit rock bottom. Now, I’m stuck in a stupid rivalry with a bunch of kids in a hockey rink.”

She began to cry again. “What am I going to do? Am I just doomed to be a failure?”

“Just ‘cause you’re not taking over the world doesn’t make you a failure. Most people just stick to regular, everyday stuff and they turn out fine.”

“It’s not just about taking over the world,” Casey sighed. “I don’t have a purpose. No Clan, no commitments, no future. It’s like everything I do is a failure. I’m a failure.”

Raph felt himself start to tear up, too. What she was saying felt way too familiar. “You’re not the only one whose failed.”

“Huh?”

“My Pops told us we were supposed to die in order to protect the Dark Armor. We failed to do that, but we realized how messed up that was, and we decided to do our own thing. And it totally worked out for us, ‘cause we ended up destroying Shred-face once and for all.”

He stood, wiping the small tears from the corners of his eyes. “Think about it. So what that you don’t got a purpose? I get it, but your ‘purpose’ was handed to you by those Foot-faces. What do you wanna do? What do you wanna succeed at?”

Casey sat quietly for a few moments, thinking, and Raph feared that he might have said something hurtful. He was never as savvy with people as Leo or Mikey.

Then she spoke. “I spent all of my life trying to be the best, even if it meant being the biggest bad guy in the world. Now, I want to be the best good guy!”

Her expression softened. “I guess what I really want - I want to stop people who were like me once. I want to stop evil people who want to control others. But...how?”

Raph thought. Then, an idea struck him. “You and me can team up!”

“For what?”

“I was a vigilante for a little while. I mean, I used to be, but I guess since I was already part of a team, and with the whole Shredder thing, I just sort of stopped. But, since my bros are on hiatus, you and me could fight crime undercover!”

Casey was looking at her lap, her head bowed. Raph cleared his throat. “I mean, only if you wanna, it’s just a suggestion-”

“That sounds amazing.” Casey looked up at him in awe, her dark eyes glossy with unshed tears. Suddenly, she stands up, and pumps a fist into the air. “Raph and Casey, the most feared vigilante duo in all of New York!”

“Yeah, Go big or go home!”  Raph pounded his fist into his other hand in excitement.

“Oh me gosh, stop yelling!” The two look behind them to Leo, still holding the can to his face. He turned in the direction of his twin. “Donnie, get me another can! This one’s warm!”

Casey was giving him a big smile, a far cry from her previous mood. Raph smiled back. Finally, he’d be able to go out and fight crime again; and this time, he wouldn’t be at it alone.

[luthienne]

Hi ! I was wondering if you had quotes / thoughts about feeling lost in life, when nothing feels right and choices have to be made even though they all feel like lukewarm water when you wanted a hot bath. That feeling of losing a sense of grounding and not seeing the direction in which to move. thank you xx

(I’ve been wanting to compile this from the moment I received your ask in my inbox. I know the feeling intimately, and I love the way you articulated it. Hope any of these quotes resonate w what you were looking for xx)

“What shall we do my darling, when trial grows more, and more, when the dim, lone light expires, and it’s dark, so very dark, and we wander, and know not where, and cannot get out of the forest…”

—Emily Dickinson, Selected Letters

“She had never figured out how to figure things out. She was only vaguely beginning to know the kind of absence she had of herself inside her.”

—Clarice Lispector, The Hour of the Star (tr. Benjamin Moser)

“But as it is / I lack myself.”

—Anne Carson, Grief Lessons; “Herakles”

“Even now I can’t explain. Something happened, a kind of earthquake that shook everything and I lost faith and touch with everybody.”

—Katherine Mansfield, Letters of Katherine Mansfield

“She felt suddenly as if she were a ghost in her own life—”

—Catherynne M. Valente, The Orphan’s Tales: In the Night Garden

“I hate seeing myself dissolve and slip and separate so that I’m living in one half of my mind, and I see the other half of me helpless and frantic and driven and I can’t stop it, but I know I’m not really going to be hurt and yet time is so long and even a second goes on and on and I could stand any of it if I could only surrender—”

—Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House

“It makes me tremble. (…) To think back. I remember exactly how I thought life would be.”

—Anne Carson, The Beauty of the Husband

Emily Dickinson, “I felt a Funeral in my Brain”

“and I didn’t care / and I was alone / and there had been war / and that thing (my soul) / was a lost star / or a lost boat / adrift,”

—H.D., Child Poems: “Dedication” 

“She had a perpetual sense (…), of being out, out, far out to sea and alone; she always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day.”

—Virginia Woolf, Mrs Dalloway 

“You know the feeling? One lies in a kind of daze, feeling so sensitive—so unbearably sensitive to the exterior world and longing for something ‘lovely’ to happen.”

—Katherine Mansfield, Letters of Katherine Mansfield

“I don’t care a bit—about anything—I just seem to be asleep and can’t wake up—”

—Georgia O’Keeffe, Art and Letters of Georgia O’Keeffe

“Life is what happens to someone else; / I stand on the sidelines and wring my hands.”

—Lisel Mueller, Waving from Shore

“…it is a little thing to say how lone it is — anyone can do it, but to wear loneliness next to your heart for weeks, when you sleep, and when you wake, ever missing something, this, all cannot say, and it baffles me.”

—Emily Dickinson, Selected Letters

“My life now is a dream too, semi-detached, and seems to happen to somebody else.”

—Martha Gellhorn, from Selected Letters

“I don’t know—I don’t know anything. There is no one here I can talk to—it’s all like a bad dream.”

—Georgia O’Keeffe, Art and Letters of Georgia O’Keeffe

“…she does not know whom she wishes to catch, only that she wishes to catch someone, anyone, to be anchored, to be connected, to not be abandoned.”

—Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless

“I had lost my true rhythm. But what was my true rhythm?”

—Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin: Vol 1, 1931-1934 

“People kept saying It’s only a matter of time so I persevered in the hope they weren’t lying. At the same time beginning to think I might’ve been lying to myself. Wasting everyone’s time with fantasies of this career I couldn’t have. The person I could never be. There was just so much rejection and not enough of me. I got so afraid. And I lost my nerve—”

—Eimear McBride, The Lesser Bohemians

—Denise Levertov, Life in the Forest; “A Daughter (I)”

“I’m not lost. Or not lost much. Lonely. It is that and … I don’t know what to do. So I move. And cars move. And it’s almost life.”

—Eimear McBride, The Lesser Bohemians 

“What prevents you? The future. The future tense, / immense as outer space. / You could get lost there. / No. Nothing so simple. The past, its density / and drowned events pressing you down, / like sea water—”

—Margaret Atwood, “Up”

“What is there to say? I became physically ill. It was as if I had fallen into space and hung there while life passed me by.”

—Boris Pasternak, Letters Summer 1926: Pasternak, Tsvetaeva, Rilke

“And nothing else happens. The days go by, lost, wasted, and I have no drive to write, no words come… And I grow more and more solitary.”

—Martha Gellhorn, Selected Letters

“I cannot write anymore, dears. Though it is many nights, my mind never comes home.”

—Emily Dickinson, Selected Letters

“As time goes by, especially in the last few years, I’ve lost the knack of being a person. I no longer know how one is supposed to be. And an entirely new kind of ‘solitude of not belonging’ has started invading me like ivy on a wall.”

—Clarice Lispector, Why This World: A Biography of Clarice Lispector 

“There’s a loss of personality. / Or rather, you’ve lost touch with the person / You thought you were. / You no longer feel quite human.”

—T.S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party

“My wings are cut and I can-not fly I can-not fly I can-not fly.”

—Katherine Mansfield, Letters of Katherine Mansfield

“Me, as ever, gone.”

—Anne Carson, Decreation; “Despite her Pain, Another Day”

“…and I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.”

—Emily Dickinson, Letters

“…why this doubt that I have about everything I do, this void that frightens me, all these lost illusions?”

—Gustave Flaubert, Intimate Notebook 1840-1841

“What I fear I avoid. What I fear I pretend does not exist. What I fear is quietly killing me. Would there were a festival for my fears, a ritual burning of what is coward in me, what is lost in me. Let the light in before it is too late.”

—Jeanette Winterson, “The Green Man” 

“Around. Around. There / should have been / a lesson somewhere.”

—Louise Glück, “The Game”

“Only occasionally do I find I have to break my peace: shout or be lost in the shuffle. But mostly I am lost in the shuffle.”

—Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible

“Things went wrong. She lost confidence. She became apprehensive in crowds. I recognize how that she was feeling then as I feel now. Invisible on the street.”

—Joan Didion, Blue Nights

“She had the oddest sense of being herself invisible; unseen; unknown;”

—Virginia Woolf, Mrs Dalloway

“You might not remember me, dears. I cannot recall myself. I thought I was strongly built, but this stronger has undermined me.”

—Emily Dickinson, Selected Letters

“I have no world to go back into, or to go forward into. Because these years have cut me away from many things – from everything: not only materially, but also mentally, spiritually.”

—Martha Gellhorn, Selected Letters

—Rita Dove, “The Venus of Willendorf”

“…for we are in such fragile skin, so close to getting lost in the in-between.”

—Eimear McBride, The Lesser Bohemians

“I do not want revenge, I do not want expiation. / I only want to ask someone / how I was lost, / how I was lost,”

—Margaret Atwood, “Owl Song”

“I felt as if the sky was torn off my life. I had no home in goodness anymore.”

—Anne Carson, “The Glass Essay”

“Let it be over, she pleaded within herself. Let it never have happened—any of it. Let me be young again, and the story just starting.”

—Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless

“The ultimate fantasy: the recovery of an irrecoverable past. But if I could daydream about an invented happy future…”

—Susan Sontag, As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh

“Tell me what’s the difference / between hope and waiting / because my heart doesn’t know / It constantly cuts itself on the glass of waiting / It constantly gets lost in the fog of hope”

—Anna Kamienska, Astonishments

—Denise Levertov, To Stay Alive

“I long to—ah, so much!! If that were possible I’d get back to my spirit.”

—Katherine Mansfield, Selected Letters

“I told my Soul to sing— / She said her Strings were snapt—”

—Emily Dickinson, Complete Poems; “The first Day’s Night had come,”

“Surely it is a privilege to approach the end / still believing in something.”

—Louise Glück, Averno; “October”

“There is a wild raging river flowing inside of me. I can’t dam it. I’m hurt so badly. Believe me—oh shit! Believe, believe—what’s there to believe anymore?”

— Henry Miller, A Literate Passion

“And life tasteless. And so eager, so eager that I should accomplish a miracle. People always expect miracles.”

—Anaïs Nin, A Literate Passion

“I want to be filled with longing again / till dark burn marks show on my skin. I want to be written again / in the Book of Life, to be written every single day / till the writing hand hurts.”

—Yehuda Amichai,“I Walked Past a House Where I Lived Once,”

“I want / my heart back / I want to feel everything again—”

—Louise Glück, Averno; “Blue Rotunda”

[springday-aus]

Ghost!AU with Jungkook

—

moodboard link

Group: BTS 

Member: Jeon Jungkook

Other Characters: mentions of ghost!Yoongi and neighbor!Taehyung

Genre: fluff, platonic bc he’s literally dead 

Type: Bulletpoint AU 

Word Count: approx. 1.5k 

A/N: totally late bc Halloween, but better late than never 

Jungkook died in an embarrassing way

not like, on the toilet embarrassed

more of… he forgot to drink water while he was playing some video games….

so……... dehydration

even though he died in the 21st century, dehydration is probably the stupidest way to die 

so he died fairly recently

around 5ish years

recently enough to still be roaming around earth

especially in the apartment he died in

the nice landlady tries to rent it out to other people and while the price is lower

(primarily bc he DIED in there)

people just keep leaving

it’s not Jungkook’s fault but also his fault

like he doesn’t mind having other people

but the other people………. don’t really wanna live with him

lowkey he gets hurt whenever people move out

bc when the landlady asks

they always say there’s a chill that brushes by and it freaks them out a bit

(homeboy is just trying to walk from place to place)

and then how things move without them moving them

(it’s more convenient for Jungkook if people have coasters under their glasses, just saying)

and how in the evenings, the electronics would turn on

this is actually Jungkook’s fault bc he’s in the habit of playing games at night and watching tv until late

so when a tv turns on its own and flips channels and you know that no one else is in your living room……………….. people move out the night that he starts turning on shit

yeah, when your shit starts to turn on by itself…… I would be moving out too

that’s paranormal activity shit

and most don’t wanna mess with that

Jungkook isn’t intentionally pushing people out

it’s just an accident bc he just forgets he’s not alive

Yoongi, the ghost from two floors up, says that it’s because humans tend to fear the unknown

he’s got a point too

that’s why humans fear death—they don’t know what happens after you die

there was one guy who ended up “living” with Jungkook for the longer time period

Namjoon was a good guy

he’s so great that after seven months of moving here, he moved out to live in a bigger space with his partner

Jungkook was upset but he was happy for him, even though he hasn’t spoken a word to him

so that was his current situation: another empty apartment that the landlady is trying to rent out once more

this is where you come in

you rent out this place and within a week, you’re moving in

Jungkook stays in the corner a bit, just observing you

he makes note of your pictures, knick-knacks, and other supplies

it’s about another week or so until you’re settled and established some kind of routine

he doesn’t mind you

you’re consistent

it’s about another two weeks or so until he makes his presence known

one night, you were working on an assignment late at night with the tv on

you just picked something off of netflix and let it play

it was just the soft sounds of the television and the typing of your laptop keys

and then

you felt it

there was shift in the temperature and a chill brushed against your neck

even with your hoodie on, you shivered from the cold

and moved from your spot to grab a heavier blanket 

when you came back from your bedroom, you didn’t notice how one of the throw pillows have slightly shifted over

by slightly, I mean moved over to the other side

you didn’t think much of it and shrugged it off, thinking you might have moved it earlier

the sleep deprivation was getting to you

to Jungkook tho, it meant acceptance

small, but still meaningful

again, you didn’t think much of it

until it was happening for a solid month

even during daytime

so……….. you asked around the building

they didn’t really say much, just that a lot of people tended to move out because of some of the stuff that happened there

it wasn’t until you met Taehyung that you found out about Jungkook

he was pretty close with him, since they were close in age and bonded over video games and dogs

when he died, he actually attended the funeral and it was…. upsetting to see such a young man die

Taehyung: “you know, most people tend move out about a month after moving in”

Taehyung: “they all seem freaked out and the landlady even called a shaman to check out the place because it was deemed as ‘unliveable’”

You: “well, has anyone found evidence that he’s still there?”

Taehyung: “I don’t think anyone could handle it if they found out”

You: this is a bad idea but oh well

so you may or may not have bought a ouija board (you did)

and you try talking to him

you set up candles and a picture (which you got from Taehyung himself)

once the sun sets, you officially start

Jungkook thinks it’s hilarious so he plays along

You: “hello spirit of Jungkook, I’m (Y/N) and I wanted to ask if you are here”

after a couple of minutes of no response, you sigh, feeling ridiculous

You: well, this is stupid

and then

it moves

your eyes widen as your hands push towards the yes

you didn’t actually think you would get an answer so you were at a bit of a lost

You: “is it okay if I’m living here?”

he moves it towards the no

you let out a sigh of relief

You: “cool, so you aren’t a murder ghost, great”

he’s laughing but you can’t really hear him

although, you do hear a faint sound of wind chimes—even though you are very sure that none of your neighbors even have wind chimes

so you “talk” with him a bit more and eventually, you head to sleep

You: “thank you for not killing me and please look away when I’m in the bathroom or changing”

if Jungkook wasn’t dead, he was very sure there would have been blush on his cheeks

so you two live side by side peacefully

you were wearing a lot more hoodies to avoid the cold breezes that pass by

if you forget where something was, most of the time, they show up in front of you in courtesy of Jungkook finding it

when you often forgot, he would help you with

one time you didn’t push the cook button for the rice cooker

(he saved you from throwing the whole batch out)

sometimes you even leave a small bowl out for him like an offering

and, yeah, he can’t eat it but he does appreciate it

it goes like this for a while and you’re both content

and then Halloween comes

at previously midnight when Halloween begins

there’s another cold breeze that passes by and you wake up, dazed and confused

and, in the darkness, there’s a shadowy figure you spot at the end of your bed

and suddenly you’re awake, sitting up in your bed

you wrap yourself a bit tighter in your blanket as you hear your name being whispered

Jungkook: “I didn’t mean to wake you”

You: what. the. fuck.

Jungkook: “go back to sleep”

the last thing you hear is soft singing from an angelic voice before you drift back to sleep

you wake up the next morning

putting on Halloween movies, putting on the Monster Mash, and prepping candy for the kids that stop by your apartment

it wasn’t until Jungkook makes an appearance that you remembered what happened last night

and I mean APPEARANCE

you physically saw him in your kitchen

and screamed

he was just as startled as you

but you haven’t even seen him until today

(expect for the pictures Taehyung showed you, which is the only reason you recognized him)

Jungkook: “did I not mention that on Halloween I can physically appear?”

You: “NO BITCH YOU DIDN’T TELL ME”

Jungkook: “well, I’m telling you now” :(

after you calm down from the miniature heart attack, you get to spend a day together

well, mostly on your part since you can actually see him now

he’s just more…… visible

it’s fun, it’s like a longtime friend coming over and spending the day with you

so you spend the night watching more movies, dressing up (at least, you did), and giving candy to the kids

you learn more about him and it’s a super fun time for the both of you because it means actual conversations

like how good he is at singing

(it’s very clear how much he loves music)

how often he likes to play computer games

his cleanliness

how much he likes the romantic comedies you put on

his weird obsession with trying different ramens

Jungkook: “I had like 6 cups in a row once”

You: “well jesus, no wonder you died”

Jungkook: “stop making fun of me” ​😭​

he’s not sure how long he’ll be here, but he’s glad he’ll be living with you while he’s here

and when midnight comes and you’re falling asleep as Hocus Pocus plays in the background

you hear it 

“good night, (Y/N), until next Halloween” 

[shirtlesssammy]

15x16: Drag Me Away (From You)

Then:

Castiel confesses a bombshell to Dean

Now:

We pick up right where we left off. Dean and Cas are about to share mutual I love yous and ---. A man checks into a motel late at night. The man is nervous entering the room, but reassures himself that he “can do this.” He sets up shop, and by “shop”, I mean he starts hitting the bottle. 

Travis gets a text from Caitlin asking him why he would go “back to that place.” The creepy ring he grasps as he tells himself it was never real tells me it was VERY REAL. Get out of there, Travis! 

Alas, it’s very real and he’s murdered by Closet Ghost Boy. 

Sam and Dean are on the case!

Oh wait, I guess they knew the guy back in the halcyon days of their youth and they’re actually heading to his funeral. Sam recaps recent events, including Cas bailing on the fam. Then he asks if Dean and him are fighting again. 

AND IT SENDS ME. #SamKnows

Dean denies knowing anything (AHEM. I sense DRAMA by the end of this episode --I’d normally say this would be left for the end of the season, but we’re really at the end of the season and the END OF THE SHOW...what’s with all the manufactured drama??) Dean then gets a text from Cas asking if he’s told Sam. 

That’s a negative. 

*Flashback Alert*

January 1993

Dean’s about 14 or 15 and Sam is 10. They’re dropped off by John to chill at a motel while he heads out on a hunt. Sam’s hiding something under his coat, and with a little prodding from Dean, it’s revealed to be a college guide. 

#NerdAlert

Also, angst alert, I guess. This sets up the rift between brothers. Sam wants a normal life, Dean’s happy being a good little soldier. (Hmmm, something tells me neither of them will be in The Life when this is all said and done…) 

Sam laments his life but unpacks his bag anyway. 

Dean, meanwhile, heads to the vending machine to grab dinner. A young girl and her younger brother catch him stealing and introduce themselves as the mysterious Caitlin and Travis. And the young Travis is the DEAD KID. 

They exchange life stories and Caitlin insults Dean’s Precious. 

Present Day Sam and Dean meet up with Caitlin again. 

(Mid recap mind-melt: THERE ARE FIVE EPISODES LEFT! What are we doing here????) 

She tells them that the funeral was last week, but she needed them to help her. “I think she’s back.”  

*Flashback Alert*

Travis was her first “victim”. He attempts to get a candy bar from the vending machine, and her gnarly hand attacks him instead. Travis DOES NOT deal well with it. 

The group gathers in the motel room and Travis is upset that no one else saw the old lady in the candy machine. Dean tells Caitlin and Travis that monsters are real. Dean asks if weird things are happening in the town. 

Apparently kids go missing in this town. 

And in the present day, Dean tells Caitlin that he killed the thing that preys on children, so Travis had to have killed himself. 

Team Youth start their investigation.

They think they’ve got things figured out, and Dean is IN CHARGE...or a dumbass even at 14. He heads out alone to fix things. Caitlin follows. (Insert Lucille Bluth gif: Good for her!) 

Sam and Travis stay behind to play Boggle. #nerdalert

But seriously, now they’re setting up the idea that SAM might die at the end? No.

Dean and Caitlin continue their explorations, and Caitlin takes their endeavors less than seriously. GIRL. They find a nest, and something Dean freaks out about and pushes Caitlin to leave the area. 

Sam and Travis start to spell out very grim Boggle results, when the game shakes and the room goes dark. The hag appears in a tangle of gnarled hair and dirty robes and heads straight for them. Dean and Caitlin burst in just in time! Dean chops off her fingers and gives her a bit of a stabbin’ and the witch evaporates into dust. Her ring is left behind on the floor.

Grown up Dean paces through the motel and encounters a ghostly version of his younger self. Young!Dean mocks him, tells him he failed, and hands him a knife. “You know what you have to do.” Dean sinks to his knees, the knife poised to slice into his heart. 

When Sam interrupts him, Dean discovers that he’s been hallucinating everything - even the knife. 

Later at the bar, Dean confesses to Sam and Caitlin that he saw the monster’s nest when he was hunting her as a kid. It was full of dead kids around their age. Sam’s horrified and asks why Dean never told him. Sweet bby Sammy, you know why! Though he tried to forget, the experience cursed him with nightmares for a long time. “We were both just kids,” Sam says to Dean’s BIGGEST GUILTY FACE MY GOD. “We used to keep a lot of secrets from each other!” Sam assures him. But that’s toooootally not the case now!

At the adjoining cafe, Dean orders dinner to go when Billie appears. “Working a case? NOW?” she asks. (Mmmmmm yes Billie lay it on us!) She’s fresh from the last of the alternate universes, having just watched it burn alive. (Guys, it was probably squirrel-verse but Boris saved Team Free Squirrel 2.0 for us!) Billie warns Dean that Chuck’s only days away. Amara’s on board and Jack’s ready so...let’s go Team Free Destruction! Dean asks her how she convinced Jack to turn himself into a bomb. Billie flips that right back on Dean. She told Jack that destroying Chuck and Amara (and incidentally, himself) was the only way to earn Dean’s forgiveness. And just...YEESH EVERYBODY.

Anyway, Billie’s not in Chuck’s book again until the very end, so she bids Dean a broody farewell. “This is on you, Dean.” No presssuuuuure! “I don’t like loose ends. I don’t like disorder,” she scolds. She orders Dean to come clean to Sam about Jack.

At the motel, Sam and Caitlin research monsters. She wonders whether he wants a normal life. GURL there ain’t no normal in Winchester-land. Sam stumbles across an article on Baba Yaga. She wears a ring which contains her heart, and is the source of her power. Caitlin recognizes the ring as belonging to her brother. Her mom had given it to Travis from the lost and found years ago. She heads outside to her car to find it.

In her trunk sits a box of Travis’s belongings. She can’t find the ring and is soon confronted by her dead brother holding the ring and grinning maniacally.

Dean returns with dinner, only to find Sam ready to hunt Baba Yaga and find the now-missing Caitlin. Because the attacks have all been at the motel, they prowl from wing to wing. Dean heads to room 214. 

He walks inside, and I am momentarily agog at the wonders of these perhaps final motel rooms of the series. I love that the floor tiles in the rooms echo the Patchwork logo from the prior episode and that the quilt square design itself emulates tradition and family. And all the eyes in the wallpaper!

For Motel Room Science:

Ahem. Anyway. Dean heads inside, only to be instantly trapped behind the slamming door. Suddenly, he’s not in the motel room anymore. He’s back in the cannery, prowling its quiet spaces. He finds the site of the nest and flips back the tarp, only to reveal young Sam’s face lying there. Rattled, he tries to leave. Travis confronts him, but of course it’s not him. Baba Yaga tells him that she’s hungry for delicious people, and starts to throttle Dean.

Sam hears the struggle and heads in, stabbing the witch. Stabbing is distraction enough that Dean can yank the ring off her finger and smash it with the butt of his gun. 

Later, Caitlin bids Dean farewell. He confesses to always being afraid and she smiles. “The old you never would have admitted that. What do they say about getting older? You tell the truth more because lies...they don’t make anything better.” Okay, first of all, literally nobody says that. Second, thank you for this theme acorn - I shall settle on my haunches to eat it! Nom nom nom.

Flashback to Dean and Caitlin parting ways as children. Dean hands her a phone number to call if she ever encounters trouble. So...typical kid stuff.

Young Sam asks if anyone ever found the missing kids. Baby Dean lies to his face and tells him that they were never found. John pulls up in the Impala and honks to beckon them out. The boys head out, a team for the moment.

As adults driving in the Impala of Feelings, Sam tries to call Cas. Dean orders him to hang up because he’s got a confession - I mean, update - to make. Billie visited him and told him that it was time to fight Chuck. “And there’s something else,” Dean adds. Jack’s going to die from the encounter and he’s ready and willing to sacrifice himself. Furthermore, Dean tells Sam that he learned this a while ago from Cas before he left. 

Sam’s outraged that Dean would keep this from him. “I knew you couldn’t handle it,” Dean shouts at him. “You raise these ethical questions.” (I perk up.) He tries to justify it, but Sam shouts him down in turn. 

They drive into the fade-to-black in brooding silence.

Brooding Quotes Lay Fragile Eggs:

I thought your imaginary friend told you it was bad to steal

Don’t you want a partner?

Hunting usually means going to gross places

Shoved it down the ol’ memory hole!

Not to make light of the death star galactic genocide, but what else is new?

I’ve seen this movie before

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[jpegjade]

Pursuit of Happiness (Nightmares)

SO remember how i told you guys that the next fic was gonna be angsty fluff? well i present to you the angstiest thing i have yet to write. (i had to reel myself back. i definitely went angstier but i decided not to go there this early in the game) - and yes, the title is a kid cudi song. 

Request: Okay another request… and I know you love to write angst so how about something where the reader is having a hard time sleeping bc of nightmares and has been trying her best to keep it from Spence but he obviously knows and tries to help?

__________________

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of one Spencer Reid. A brilliant young man whose life was cut short by the grips of life.” Some priest said, standing at the front of a podium. 

You were outside, standing under a tent with a group of people. You tried to look at their faces but it was like everything was in a haze. The priest continued talking but it’s like his voice slowed down, almost as if he went underwater somehow. You looked down, seeing yourself in your funeral dress. Was this real? 

“And now a few words from his fiance.” The priest motioned to you. 

It’s like your body started moving on its own. You walked to the front of the tent, in front of everyone. Slowly, their faces came into view. One by one, you recognized who you were looking at and all of them were crying. Even his mom was there, crying just as hard as everyone else. There wasn’t a dry eye in the tent area. 

“My heart is broken... “ You began, not sure where the words were coming from. Even now, you weren’t sure what was really happening but you started to piece things together. “The love of my life…” You started sobbing, the words getting caught in your throat.

“The love of my life is gone, taken by a cruel excuse for a man. If I could trade my life for his, I would in a heartbeat. His bright eyes, loving smile, he deserves the world and every good thing in it. And now… Now, I can’t give it to him…” 

You turned, looking at the coffin. He looked so peaceful, like no bad thing could touch him anymore. And that was true. He was relieved of his pain and suffering. Pressing your lips to his forehead one last time, you whispered, “I love you now and forever.” 

You woke with a start. You were drenched in sweat and sobbing, although it didn’t feel like it. Your tears were mixed with sweat. You wrapped your arms around your torso, rocking yourself as you tried to calm down. Your heart raced and there was a painful ache in your body. Something was missing, an empty hole inside of you. You tried to breathe but it felt absolutely impossible. Your chest was so tight with fear that you didn’t think you would ever calm down. 

Slowly, you began to breathe normally again. The room stopped spinning and you were able to loosen up enough to go get a glass of water. Your footsteps were quiet but your body felt so heavy. You struggled to stand up straight at the weight on your shoulders. Filling up your cup with water, you checked the time on the stove. It was only 11 PM. You must have fallen asleep early for you to wake up at this time. A few swallows later, you were ready to get back in bed. 

What the fuck was that dream… Shit Spencer. If that wasn’t a dream, if that was a memory, you were going to lose it. 

It was only 11 so you knew Spencer would still be awake, if not wrapping up at the office. When you used to sleep over at his apartment, he would stay up late because he had a cup of coffee late in the day and the effects were still hitting him. The two of you would stay up talking until one of you dropped. Sometimes, the conversations were good, all about how he was basically a superhero and you were a goddess, according to him. 

‘Hey, angel.” You melted at the sound of his voice. He was okay. 

“Hey yourself. How was work?” You asked, trying to keep things nonchalant. You just needed to hear him talk for a little bit and then you would feel better about everything going on. 

“It was tiring. I’ve been doing desk work since I hurt my leg.” He said, pretending to be annoyed. Or maybe he was annoyed, you couldn’t tell. 

You completely forgot he hurt his leg for a moment. All you could think about was that dream… 

“Do you want to come over?” He asked, disrupting your thoughts. You were glad but you were unsure about this. What if you had another nightmare? 

“I don’t know about that, Spence. I’m a little too tired to drive.” That was the only excuse you would think of to not go. “Don’t get me wrong, I would love to spend the night with you but I’m scared of falling asleep at the wheel.” 

“I like that you’re cautious. Well, I’m on my way home. Do you want me to swing by?” Spencer said, looking for a reason to stop by. 

“Only if you feel up to it.” You said, excited to have someone to help you stay awake. It would be easier to stay awake with your fiance there, right? 

20 minutes later, Spencer walked through your door. Immediately embracing you in a hug, he smelled of lavender and coffee. You weren’t sure how that worked but it did on him. 

“You’re always so cozy.” You said, face full of his sweater. It was beginning to be a long hug but you needed it. 

“Are you ready to actually let me inside?” Spence said, chuckling at the realization that it was becoming an extra long hug. 

“Inside of me or the apartment?” You laughed, finally letting go of him. 

“Your pick.” He said, smirking. 

“Get in here, you goofball.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside your apartment. 

The two of you laid on the couch, watching Doctor Who for a little while before you started to drift off to sleep. Your head in Spencer’s lap, legs up on the couch, Spencer just watched you drift to sleep, smiling at how rested you looked. 

“Spencer. Spencer, it’s me. You don’t have to do this. Please, baby. Just focus on me, okay?” You pleaded, your fiance’s back turned to you. 

“I can’t, y/n.” Spencer was crying, hard. “There’s so much darkness inside of me and I can’t navigate it. I can’t understand how to get rid of it. Some genius I am, right?” 

“Baby, no.” You took a couple tentative steps closer to him. You didn’t want him to get scared. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes. You say all these nice things about me and I can’t… I don’t understand.” He was still crying. That was a good sign. He still felt something. He wasn’t numb. 

“Spencer, listen to my voice. You’re not all dark, okay? That brilliant mind of yours isn’t going to figure it out if you give up now. Let me help you understand.” Your voice was hardly steady but it was just enough to keep him engaged. 

You kept inching towards him. Your hands were shaking still. You were almost there. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Spencer!” You yelled, bolting upright. 

You fell asleep. Shit. But Spencer wasn’t holding you anymore. You didn’t see him. You also weren’t on the couch anymore. You were in your bed, shaking. 

“Hmm? I’m right here.” Spencer said, turning over. He pulled you into his arms and held you as you explained your dreams and how they were backward.

“Spence, I’m afraid to go to sleep. I can’t handle you being taken away from me.” You sobbed, trying to slow down. 

“Hey, you’re not going to lose me at all. We’ve got plans and things to accomplish. I wouldn’t dare leave you to your own devices.” He chuckled. 

Hearing Spencer make light of the situation helped a little bit. You knew it was his way of helping you through the situation before he turned serious again. 

“Y/n, dreams are less about the future and more about the subconscious. Your fears manifest in two second bits of information but your brain slows it down to read the information. What you’re suffering from is common under high pressure or stressful situations. I know you’ve been suffering from nightmares for a little while. You don’t ever want to tell me these things but I find out eventually.” He said, pulling you tighter to his chest. 

You could hear his heart, slow and steady. The blood pumping in your ears started to get quieter the more he spoke. 

“You’ve been sleepless for at least a week. You’ve been wearing more make-up to cover up the dark circles and exhaustion. You have had an excuse not to sleep over at my place for a little while. Your clothes are always wrinkled and you have been more forgetful lately because you’re so tired. I haven’t said anything because I wanted to give you space to figure it out since I know you’ll call me when you feel like I can help.” He paused. 

“You know I’m here for you, right?” He said, kissing the top of your head. 

“I know. But it’s so hard… I thought I had this under control.” You sighed, wrapping your arm around Spencer. 

“Baby, you have to ask for help sometimes. You have to know that some things aren’t going to happen because there’s no way in hell I would leave you. The only thing I’m sorry for right now is that I didn’t step in sooner. I didn’t think it would get this bad…” Spencer got progressively quieter the more he talked. 

“Spence, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… I feel like you have enough to worry about. I want to be the sunshine in your life, the thing you look forward to seeing because I bring you joy.” You sighed. 

“I know. But you don’t have to do anything to give me that feeling, sunshine.” He said, smiling. “I come home to the most beautiful, smart, incredible girl in the world every day, when I’m not on trips, that is.” He chuckled. 

“Spence… You’re too sweet.” You said, burying your face into his chest. You didn’t even realize he was shirtless until you lifted your head and put it back down on his chest. 

“Sweet like sugar.” He said. He smirked in the low light of the lamp on your bedside table. 

“Spencer, that light was in my living room. Did you move it?” You asked, wondering why he would do something like that. 

“When I have nightmares, I find that it’s easier to get my bearings when I can see what’s around me. In the dark, anything can happen. In the dark, the monsters come out. But in the light, you’re able to see that you’re safe. So I moved it so you can wake up and recognize you’re safe with me.” Spencer said. 

“You’re the best, you know that?” You said, getting sleepy again. 

“And you’re mine.” He said, followed by a yawn. 

There was something different about when you fell asleep this time. You had more control, felt more peaceful and less nervous. You were able to breathe again knowing that Spencer was right there with you. For the first time in a little while, you were able to get a peaceful couple hours of sleep.

[maybankiara]

NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN (I’LL CRAWL HOME TO HIM)

pairing: JJ Maybank x Pope Heyward

summary: JJ realises he’s immortal when he wakes up buried in a coffin. He’s got to make his way back to his friends - more than anyone else, back to Pope, whom he hasn’t admitted his feelings to. (Not like he admitted them to himself either, anyway).

w/c: 4.3k

a/n: gay angst with some immortality!! also, there’ll be no mention of claustrophobia, just jj trying to figure out how to get out. i have another mayward fic planned with immortal!jj but basically everything else is different. 

masterlist | tag list

read on archive of our own

JJ wakes up in a coffin. He comes to the realisation when he makes an attempt to turn around, thinking he’s in the bed of the spare room at the Chateau he’d long ago claimed his own, only for his shoulder to bump into something hard.

 ‘Ow!’

 The sound of him hitting the wood and it feeling oddly…contained, for the lack of a better word, summons a series of flashing images.

 A gun in his hands. Topper Thornton dangling by his ankle from a tree, screaming bloody murder. John B shouting JJ’s name. Pope crying it out in pain, Kelce’s hands on his neck.

 A gun in Rafe’s hands. White thunder.

 ‘Fuck,’ he whispers. And then— ‘Holy shit, I’m immortal!’

 Laughter that falls from his lips is maniacal. He thinks of all the pranks he could do now – if there’s no death to fear, there is nothing to fear. Even if he doesn’t know the limits, JJ can only think of the endless possibilities of what he could do – what do you do when you aren’t afraid of anything?

 JJ’s hand slams against the top of the coffin and he does it again, on the verge of crying from excitement. His breathing is rapid and so is his heartbeat.

 ‘Take that, Rafe! Whoo!’

 He wants to tell the pogues. He wants to see the look on their faces—all the questions they’ll have—and he wants to see who’s missed him out of others, if anyone has. He has to ask Pope about the implications of his immortality and how it works – if his memory hadn’t suffered up when Rafe blew his head up and it still serves him right, Rafe did blow his head up. It was probably a closed casket.

 Huh.

 JJ’s fingers hesitate for a long second before touching his chin, half-expecting to find nothing but a mesh of whatever his body was made of. But they’re met with a firm, hard jawline, skin connecting it to his neck, and his lips, and keeping his blood and whatever—Pope would know better—where it’s supposed to be, inside.

 The blond lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It comes out in the form of a chuckle, airy and free.

 Pope would find this the most interesting. Does JJ have scars? He’d know how his body managed to heal, how his brain preserved.

 He begins to wonder about what effect this has on the rest of his life—afterlife?—when he hears a small voice, just like Pope’s.

 ‘Being buried alive is one of the worst ways to die,’ he told the pogues months ago, solving a past paper that someone who wants to be a coronary would take. ‘You’ve got five and a half hours’ worth of air, tops. You’ll suffocate before someone finds you, if they ever do, anyway. It’s not all bad, because the carbon dioxide you produce breathing eventually overtakes most of the air inside the coffin, and you fall into a coma. You die and you feel lightheaded, like you’re falling asleep.’

 You die like you’re falling asleep.

 JJ wonders if he’d wake up again. Probably. Does he have nine lives or an infinite number?

 He’d like to test that.

 But for now, if Pope’s right—and JJ is kind of hoping he isn’t—then he’s got about five hours to get to the surface. Even if he wakes up again, there’ll be no air for him to breathe, which essentially keeps him dead, until possibly thousands of years pass and someone accidentally opens his grave and he storms out like a zombie from another time like in that movie with—

 Focus.

 ‘Focus. Yeah, I gotta focus.’

 JJ nods to himself. He calms his breathing and starts to think about every possible way to get out of his situation. He’s not claustrophobic, which is surprising, but that might be because the fact that he vividly (kind of) remembers being shot in the head is kind of more dramatic than waking up in a casket six feet under.

 Four feet, he remembers – the earth on the Cut where they made the graveyard isn’t good for digging, or anything, really, so the graves are usually shallower than the standard six feet.

 He should be able to push through it – right?

 Right?

 JJ’s died and come back to life. If he can do that, then he can make his way out of here.

 For the next however long, JJ tries to remember every piece of information that would help. He knows from John B and when they worked at a construction site for some quick cash that when he opens the casket, all the dirt will fall into the hole he just made and fill it out.

 He knows from surfing that aerodynamic works best the flatter the object is, so if it applies to water, it probably applies to earth, too. When he opens the casket, he needs to shoot upright as straight as possible—doing something straight will be the biggest challenge, really—and let the dirt fall over him.

 It’s a game of seconds. He’s really got one shot at this.

 ‘If there’s a massive fuckin’ hole in the middle of a graveyard, someone will notice, right,’ he mutters to himself.

 It’s fine. It’s something.

 JJ presses his palms flat against the massive wood over him. The material is hard and stiff, but when he bangs against it, it moves a little. Enough for a few bits of the earth to fall in, on his chest.

 (Or so he thinks. It’s not like he can see.)

 He figures that his best bet is pushing it open like a door, then squeezing immediately as he keeps pushing it. The gravity of the earth falling should hurt him—he knows this isn’t going to be easy, or nice, or pleasant—but he should push through if he does the Superman pose, with his hand in the air.

 The thought makes him chuckle, and as his lips stretch, he tastes sweat in the corners. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and it leaves a wet mark, so he wipes that on his shorts.

 JJ sighs. ‘They buried me with the fuckin’ cargo shorts.’

 He hadn’t given much thought to how he’d be buried, but now he reckons his hair is a mess, his shirt is a basketball-style, holes big enough so that the sweat from his armpits soaks into whatever carpet they put at the bottom of the coffin.

 JJ stinks – like, badly. He remembers Pope said that corpses shit and pee themselves and fart and whatnot, but has no clue if he acted like a real corpse. Was he dead dead, or just kind-of comatose without a heartbeat?

 Shit, what if he’s been dead for a while? If his dead had been blown off then it must’ve taken ages to reconstruct.

 What if he comes back and the pogues have moved on, they have families and kids, and Pope’s gone off to university and—

 ‘Shut up,’ JJ whispers to himself. This pitch-black darkness is making him see things, and feel things he doesn’t want to.

 He’ll deal with that later. The only thing that matters right now is getting the fuck out of here.

 JJ doesn’t let his hand shake when he applies pressure to the wooden board above him. He does it slowly, and when it doesn’t budge, he knows slowly isn’t the way to do it.

 So JJ just thinks of Pope, John B, and Kie, and their faces on the HMS Pogue, and slams through the coffin. He slithers through the whole immediately, eyes and mouth closed and the same hand that opened the coffin is outstretched, high above his head, and he’s pushing with his legs instead of his back.

 He was right – the earth is heavy. He feels it crumbling around his chest, around his feet, around every inch of space he’s just created, but he keeps pushing.

 If he doesn’t push, he’ll stay like this—half buried—forever.

 The tip of his finger touches the air – then another, then all five. The fact that he’s so close gives him a surge of adrenaline, coursing through his veins, and he pushes through the weight of the earth even further, until his entire hand is above the ground.

 fuck yeah.

 Then an elbow. Then he slides his other hand across his torso, feeling the weight tug at the bones until the pain is so intense he thinks he might’ve broken it. His chest tightens—it’s been almost a minute—but he manages to get the other hand out, too.

 Just a little more.

 One more push.

 that’s what she said, he thinks.

 And pushes.

 Being out of the coffin after spending it in about an hour or so is like jumping from a tall cliff – thrilling, chill-inducing, and very much like breaking the water tension with your back instead of the head.

 He gasps like a fish out of water, still trapped from shoulders and below, but he breathes.

 JJ laughs, and then realises he’s also being soaked because it’s raining harder then he can remember, and figures it’s okay to open his eyes. It hurts, at first glance – the sky is shrouded in dark grey clouds and rain is absolutely pouring, but he sees that it’s day, not night, and he sees that the trees still look like late summer.

 ‘FUCK YEAH!’

 Thrilled to be alive, JJ lets himself have a moment to breathe. He sees he’s buried in one of the cheapest parts of the graveyard—which says much considering his dad must’ve been the one who paid for the funeral—and most of the other graves look terrible. He turns his head to the side, just enough to look at his own.

 J. MAYBANK. 2003 – 2020. BELOVED SON AND FRIEND.

 ‘Sons of bitches,’ he mutters. ‘It’s like it would’ve killed them to be fuckin’ creative for once.’

 His arms ache and his legs feel like they’re about to give in, but he’s got to get out. With a deep breath, he buries—ha!—his fingers as firmly into the ground as far as he can, and then tugs.

 He’s out a minute later, but he’s damn glad no one was around to hear him grunting like a little pussy.

 JJ shakes his limbs, getting some blood through them. He looks disgusting – dirt mixed with sweat means that it’s all sticking to him, and he doesn’t even want to know what his face must look like – even if it isn’t absolutely mangled. His hair is terrible probably, too, because the strands that aren’t sticking to his face seem mucky when he tries running his finger through it.

 i thought they made dead men look pretty.

 Then he tells himself not even dying and crawling out of a grave could make him look any less pretty, so he’s okay.

 ‘Ha,’ he muses to himself, ‘my pretty goes beyond the grave.’

 About ten minutes later, when his muscles feel as alive as he does, he begins his twenty-minute trek to the Chateau. He figures it’s his best bet – it’s next to the marsh, which isn’t too far from the graveyard, and JJ’s not going to get anywhere near the road if he’s taking the fastest route.

 So, looking like a dead man walking, he sets off for the Chateau.

 By the time he’s arrived, some of the dirt has washed off—he conveniently stood under a tree that was basically leaking water—and he guessed he didn’t look a lot different than anyone walking around under this kind of weather. There were no puddles for him to look at himself at, which was quite a shame, but he figured he’d just check himself out at a mirror in the Chateau.

 Now, JJ is just… He’s just standing in front of the backdoor to the place. The marsh is behind him and the house in the front, and this should be simple, except he’s got no clue what’s about to happen. Lights are on in the living room, that much he could see from the outside, but there was no guarantee it would be his friends.

 Panic started to eat him inside out – what if he walks in, unannounced, and it turns out he’s been dead for years and some completely random people live here, instead?

 Before he manages to chicken out, he opens the door. The door creaks—that’s a good sing, thinks JJ, John B was going to have it fixed by the end of the year—and promptly closes behind him. Old reggae coming from the living room is the only sound aside from water dripping off of JJ.

 fuck it.

 JJ makes his way to the living room. A lightning strikes somewhere nearby and, just as he rounds the corner, thunder follows.

 His friends are sitting on the floor, in the middle of the room.

 JJ grins. ‘Tell me, do I make Freddy Krueger look pretty?’

 In that very moment, three things happen. John B screams. Kiara knocks over the speaker. Pope faints.

 And as for thing four, that happens a moment later, JJ just sighs. ‘That bad, huh?’

—

‘…and that’s how I ended up here.’

 About two hours later, JJ’s finally finished his story. It took them quarter of an hour just to stop freaking out—Pope had been convinced he’d seen a ghost until Kiara and John B managed to explain to him he hadn’t—and even then, they weren’t ready to hear the story.

 They made him take a shower, first. Fair enough.

 John B went with him to get some towels and clean clothes, and Kiara stayed in the living room, getting Pope some water. Nobody spoke for a very, very long time.

 When JJ looked at himself in the mirror, he was both distraught and amazed. There was a scar running from cheek to cheek, over his nose, and well underneath his jaw, with skin inside this circle looking like it had been slightly burned years ago, with colour different to the rest of his face. JJ ran a finger over it – the texture was rough in some places, smoother in others.

 Somehow, he was convinced the scars would persist, but his skin would heal. He felt it in his bones – it rang as true as the fact that his heart was about to burst through his ribcage the moment he’d locked eyes with Pope.

 JJ took a shower, cleaned himself up. The clothes John B had brought him were his own, and he smelt them for a second – it felt like coming home.

 The Chateau had always been his home.

 When he returned to the living room, Pope looked a little better – they all did. JJ reassured them that he had, in fact, died and been buried. Pope went on to state in graphic detail how mangled his body—head more so than other parts—had been when they’d last seen him.

 JJ forgot Rafe had killed him in front of them.

 ‘Y’all must be scarred for life,’ he said as he took a seat on the floor of John B’s living room, and then grinned. ‘But not on the outside, like me.’

 They didn’t find it as funny as he did.

 So, with the aid of some water and pizza they had leftover from earlier, JJ told his story. There were a lot of interruptions—not as many from Pope as he would’ve thought, considering dead people are his expertise—but he managed to get it done.

 And now, he grins at them, arms spread over the couch behind him. ‘So, y’all impressed already?’

 The silence is pregnant. Kiara’s hands are folded in her lap as she leans her back against the couch, and John B mirrors her position, only on the wall. Pope, unlike the other three, is standing with his side against the doorway, biting his nails. (JJ is pretty convinced that’s a habit he picked up from him.)

 Kiara clears her throat. ‘JJ, you were gone for two months.’

 ‘What? No way, that’s— That’s impossible, Kie. It was just yesterday—’

 ‘We buried you,’ says John B, voice hoarse. ‘Mourned you. Had to learn how to live without you.’

  ‘But I’m back now! That’s great news, right?’

 ‘JJ, we’re fuckin’ happy you’re back.’ John B leans forward and pats him on the back, squeezing his shoulder. His smile is grim, but it’s there. ‘It’s just a little unbelievable. We watched you die. It’ll— It’ll take us some… time.’

 At the doorway, Pope is still staring at JJ as if he’ll disappear at any given moment.

 JJ’s neck stiffens, and he’s sure John B feels it, because his hand falls limp to the side. The blond mumbles something, incoherently enough that not even he knows what he said, then shakes his head. ‘I should probably get some rest.’ His eyes fall to his lap. ‘Apparently two months wasn’t enough.’

 His words seem to cut through the atmosphere in a way that alienates him from the rest of them – the uninterruptedly living.

 Nobody says anything, but JJ still rises to his feet. His hands pat his shirt and his shorts, as if they could do anything to smooth the creases. He glances at John B, whose eyes are fixed on him. ‘My room still empty?’

 ‘Nobody’s touched it since you…’ The brunet shakes his head, as if a thought needed to get out. ‘Might be a little dusty.’

 ‘You want me to fetch you anything?’ asks Kiara, voice wavering. ‘I can go to the Wreck—’

 ‘I’m good. Thanks.’

 JJ doesn’t linger around to see their reactions – if there are any, anyway. Last thing he sees is Pope, still leaning against that door frame, unmoving and stoic as ever.

 Like John B said, the bed needed to be dusted. JJ was done with that in a couple of minutes, and then he stripped into his underwear (what a waste of fresh clothing) and slipped under the covers.

 The weight of these past few hours crushed on him like a raging storm. It doesn’t matter that he crawled out of his grave to join them – they had two months to figure out a way to live without him. Two months is more than enough to move on, to accept the new reality.

 He knows because he’s been through it.

 Outside, the storm rages on, too. JJ thinks of John B, a little calmer and quieter now; Kiara, distant like she seemed at the beginning of her kook year; and Pope.

 Pope, who wouldn’t look him in the eye for longer than a second. Pope, who always had a smartass comment to chime in with, now pushing himself to the side and not participating.

 JJ sighs. His chest is heavy and his face is stinging a little, but the realisation is heavier than any physical pain – his friends managed to move on from him. Couple of hours for JJ meant a couple of months for the pogues. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe he gets to leave, now, when everybody thinks he’s dead.

 Some time later, JJ lies awake, still. The storm has dwindled to mere tapping on the window, but his mood hasn’t changed.

 Another kind of tapping him reaches him – full, against the wooden door separating him from the rest of his life.

 JJ gets out of his bed with a tired sway to his hips, legs dragging along the floor. He rubs his eyes before he opens the door and when he does, he leans against the door frame, blinking against the sudden light.

 ‘Hey,’ greets Pope.

 ‘Hey.’

 There’s hesitation reeking off the boy in front of him. His shoulders are slumped and JJ feels like he’s his height, even though Pope has always been taller.

 The blond scratched the itch underneath the left side of his jaw. ‘You want to come in?’

 Pope nods. JJ moves to the side and closes the door once they’re both in.

 Out of habit, JJ plops down onto the bed, face-first. He doesn’t even notice Pope hasn’t done the same until he shifts a little and realises there’s a silhouette positioned against the window, blocking the moonlight from entering the room.

 JJ drags himself to the edge of the bed, feet bare on the floor. His elbows are draped over his knees and he sees Pope a little better now – hands in his pockets and a frown on his face, lower lip with a quiver to it.

 ‘What’s up?’

 ‘You’re really here, right?’ Pope doesn’t miss a beat. ‘Alive?’

 JJ chuckles, but there isn’t much humour to it. ‘As far as I can tell.’

 ‘But we watched you die.’

 ‘I know. I can remember all of that.’

 ‘You shouldn’t be here. Alive.’

 ‘I know,’ JJ says. ‘But I am. What are you going to do about it?’

 The hesitation that comes off of Pope is different this time. It’s fleeting—ephemeral—and JJ only gets a moment’s worth of looking into his eyes when there’s hands on his cheeks, and warm lips smashing against his own.

 All he hears is the rain tapping on the window, or the beating of his own heart. The warmth of Pope’s lips on his, or the cold of the storm.

 The touch disappears, and JJ thinks he’s about to wake up in hell, and this was just a way to torture him – to give him something he’s yearned for and take it away like it was nothing.

 open your eyes, boy. we ain’t finished.

 His dad’s voice is like electricity and JJ opens his eyes, terrified.

 Except it’s just Pope staring at him, looking just as distraught as he feels. JJ isn’t in hell. He’s in John B’s room, and while it might stink like hell, it isn’t it.

 The storm is still quiet and gentle, but JJ doesn’t even notice it so much. Not after—

 ‘I thought I’d missed my chance,’ Pope says, weakly. ‘I just needed— I couldn’t—’

 JJ shifts the weight to his feet and his hands find Pope’s neck like they belong there (because they do). He holds him—gentle, cautious, fragile—and shakes his head, at loss for words.

 He wants to say ‘me too, Pope,’ except it’s not good enough. Except it doesn’t encapsulate what it feels like to die thinking the man you love never loves you back, or at least you’ll never find out, only to wake up, alive, and find out that your feelings have been reciprocated all along.

 To crawl out of a grave for him.

 JJ kisses him with the very same ferocity, with more hunger to it. JJ’s felt death—he’s felt the unknowable—and he won’t let another moment pass without doing the things he’d been afraid to do.

 By the time they part, both boys are catching their breath, not even an inch apart. JJ’s hands are firm on Pope’s neck, thumbs tracing the lines of his jaw, while Pope’s hands grip the blond’s shirt at his sides.

 JJ wants to say something, anything.

 Pope is faster. ‘I thought I’d never get to do this.’

 All JJ can do is nod; no words could ever be enough.

 The shaky breath that falls from Pope’s lips only moments later is different from the boy who was leaning against the door frame earlier – more like the Pope JJ knew.

 fell in love with.

 It’s a little bit cynical, and a little bit guarded, but nevertheless free and innocent like JJ always knew him to be. But he takes creates some distance between the two, and JJ’s hands drop to his sides.

 Pope’s smile isn’t what JJ thought it would be. It doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘You’re leaving.’

 He should’ve known Pope would realise it. He just wondered what gave him away. ‘I don’t know.’

 ‘Don’t lie to me, JJ. Not after we just—’ Pope cuts himself off. He clears his throat, resting the back of his head against the window.

 Breathless, JJ sits down on the bed, same position as earlier – as if his entire life hadn’t just been rocked from one side to the other. ‘I’m dead, Pope. You buried me. That’s what John B said. I get to— I get to do whatever I want. Go whatever I want. I’m… I’m free, Pope.’

 The moon peeks through the clouds, bright enough to bask Pope’s silhouette in silver. JJ thinks of how much the boy resembles an angel – how he felt like one when he’d kissed him, granting him a wish he’d never dared to voice.

 ‘You could stay,’ suggests a small voice. ‘Be our own little ghost.’

 JJ lets out a full laugh. ‘Is that what I am now?’

 Pope’s smile becomes a little clearer as the moon gets back behind the clouds, and JJ wishes he could see his eyes clearly, too. ‘I can’t lose you again.’

 He knows he should leave. They both know, Pope more so than anyone. JJ’s dead—legally—meaning that he can’t be seen around town without raising more than a couple of eyebrows. He can’t live on his own. He can’t—

 He’s free from his dad, from obligations, but if he stays, he becomes enslaved to his own death.

 But if he stays…

 i lost you once already, pope. i can’t do it again, either.

 He sighs and, unaware JJ’s already made his choice, Pope drops on the bed next to him, hand holding the blond’s. ‘Just for a year. Not even that long. Then I’ll be off to university, where no one knows any of us, and— And we can get a fresh start. Together.’

 Careful, JJ cups the boy’s cheek. He can see his eyes now, as the moon shines on them like no other person has been worthy of its light – they’re not sad, or hopeful, but they are fretting.

 JJ kisses his cheek, before turning his head slightly to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

 He could never think of giving up on this. Not when he’d died to get it.

 So he echoes, ‘Together.’

  ★

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