#but maybe it's fine? because then their reunion can be like ''i never really understood you then so im happy to have a second chance''

[wewerebornsextuplets]

why do i always get ideas for lore changes After posting. is he stupid?

[leonw4nter]

Hi🌸

I saw that you were accepting requests so I have one for you. How about bringing husband Leon to the reader's high school reunion? The reader is kind of happy to bring Leon to his old classmates but Leon is so handsome and all that your old acquaintances are wondering why your marriage happened in the first place.

I was thinking about Leon re4r or id, but you can choose anyone!🌸

A Playlist for My Dream High School Romance

Husband!ID!Leon x GN!Reader

Plain Jane: this is what you were in high school, though you didn’t really mind since there was more to being the most beautiful or the most outgoing in school. You always thought you dressed well; not the most fashionable but enough to look decent for school. You also looked fine, not too ugly or too beautiful with the round red framed glasses on your face. The lack of romantic experiences in high school sometimes bothered you but you didn’t mind it overall; you’ve seen the drama of high school romance in your classmates and ultimately decided that staying single is the best option for now… though sometimes you envied it when girls received flowers from their boyfriends or when you saw couples fill out the dance floor and slow danced during the prom. As a dramatic teen, you wailed to your pillow about how you’d never find the love of your life because you were too boring and how you’d always be the third wheel for every couple you’ll meet– hell, you were even confessed to because the boy was double-dog-dared to! You swore that you were destined to only daydream about falling in love with the man of your dreams, dancing under the rain or receiving carnival prices only scenarios that unfolded while you’re fast asleep.

Little did they know, they’d have the maker of their dreams to wake up to in the future; scenes ripped out of a romance novel were no longer bound within the confines of dreams. Leon was more than you’d asked for in the best way possible; he is more than just the beautiful combination of blond and blue, no. The first time you saw him, you thought he looked perfect, the epitome of beauty and charm. As you two got closer and he let you into his life and laid bare his scars for you, you saw that he is not a perfect man– far from it actually– yet you still loved him, maybe even more and much fiercely. You understood and listened to all his stories, accepted him for how he is, the same way he did with you.

Leon’s wedding ring momentarily flashed a bright gold as sunlight reflected from the band, his hands on the wheel as he drove you to your high school. A little nervous was an understatement for how antsy you’re feeling, though you found it stupid to feel this way since these people somewhat remember you and you’re just visiting the school– you literally went to this school for four years and managed to survive each time. Leon stopped the car at a red light, upbeat pop music playing faintly on the radio. He turned to look at you and saw you bouncing your leg, eyes focused and brows furrowed as you stared out on the road. You snapped out of the negative flurry of thoughts troubling you, jerking slightly as you felt Leon’s large hand on your shoulder.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Leon says as he sees you mentally pop back into the car with him. “You okay?”

You nod, giving him a half-smile as you place a hand on top of his that was perched on your shoulder.

“Yeah, just a little nervous,” you say. Just before you could let Leon say another word, you decide to speak up about whatever was bugging you.

“It’s a little stupid, I know. I mean– I went to school with most of these people for about 4 years and managed to do just fine. God, it’s silly of me to be nervous–”

“Hey,” Leon softly interrupts. “It’s only natural for you to be nervous about this. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen them and you’re expecting change in how they act and look and you’re not sure in what way they’ve changed.”

“Yeah that too but… you know, what if I’m like– too boring again?”

“Too boring?” Leon says in a confused yet gentle tone. “Honey, you’re not ‘too boring’ and if they think so then they can buzz off.”

Leon’s words caused some confidence to stir within you, feeling a little better about yourself. This isn’t like high school anymore. You got this! You got this!

Since the red light switched to green, Leon had to withdraw his hand from your shoulder and put it on the brake handle for the car to start moving again.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. If someone’s bothering you, just yelp and I’ll beat them up.” Leon joked.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After a few minutes of Leon driving and hyping yourself up some more, he finally arrives at the school and pulls up into the parking lot. After a few moments of choosing the perfect spot to park, he gets out of the car first in order to open the door for you, which you thanked him for.

You two walked into the entrance and you looked around. Not a lot has changed, not even the color of the paint on the walls though you realized that they probably gave it a fresh coat since it looked much more vibrant than what your memory told you to expect. The lockers were still where they were when you still went to this school but they no longer had the scratched paint and rusting locks, along with the residue of glue from stickers that had been forcefully peeled off.

“Silverlake High School’s Silver Archers,” Leon quietly mutters to himself. “Your school’s mascot is an archer?”

“Yeah. Though we didn’t have an archery club, which I found kinda silly,” you respond.

Leon hums and continues to look at the trophy case, occasionally reading some things out loud.

“Honey look,” Leon says. “I found you!”

He points to a small picture in the case; it was you with your ratty old glasses and a silver medal around your neck, a small trophy on your hands along with some flowers. You lit up as you looked at that image, the memory clear as day; you had won second place in the inter-school extemporaneous speech competition with other neighboring high schools. You shared this fact with Leon, whose eyebrows flew to his hairline as he looked at you and then the case and back to you again, thoroughly impressed.

“I wifed up a genius,” Leon exclaims. “So you managed to win a competition where they asked the world’s most pressing questions and only gave you a minute to compose your answer in front of everybody? And you had to make sure that your answer would fit in 6 minutes? God you’re so cool.”

You giggled a little bit at that, suddenly feeling like the coolest person in this entire Earth. You thought that this win is truly a feat but these facts coming from Leon’s mouth? Your husband saying it? It was as if you were doing his job, saving the world and fighting off the stuff of nightmares with a pistol; it sounded even more impressive coming from him. Now, he was taking his phone out to take pictures of the other awards you’ve won that were displayed on the case.

“Leon, we gotta hurry. The reunion might’ve started already!”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Luckily, you two made it on time. Like magic, you were less anxious compared to earlier and managed to find the courage to even greet some of your classmates. Leon was proud that you were breaking out of your shell to greet them, really feeling it with each laugh and conversation shared with some old acquaintances.

“Oh? Who’s that? He’s hot,” your classmate asks. “Never seen him around before. I wonder if he’s single.”

You turn around to where she’s pointing, only to see that she was pointing at Leon. Your husband. Oh he sure as hell isn’t single.

“Oh him? He’s Leon. My husband,” you say. You weren’t one to get jealous but to hear your classmate call Leon ‘hot’ and wonder if he’s single triggered a reaction out of you.

She looked surprised, looking back at you and then him and back at you again like a deer in headlights.

“Wait… really? Like you’re really married?” she asked and it didn’t sound like she was ready to ask how you two met; she sounded like she wanted to know how someone like him could marry someone like you.

“Yeah, I can make a quick run to the court right now for a copy of our marriage certificate,” you half-joke in order to hide the growing feeling of hurt.

“Uh, haha…,” she mumbles. “He’s everything actually- like he’s really good eye-candy. You’re lucky he chose you, you know.”

“I’m lucky he chose me? What do you mean by that.” you say.

“What do you mean?” She asks, oblivious to the fact on how mean that sounded. Or maybe she was just playing oblivious.

“Nevermind.”

You retreat from the group walking up to Leon and watch people socialize. Before he can even ask, the emcee for the reunion calls everyone’s attention and says some words but even the volume of that loud-ass mic was not enough to drown out the doubt swirling on your mind. You’re only pulled out of your thoughts when you hear her voice again, this time talking to other people about how shocked she is that you’re married to him, out of all people. The plain Jane married to the absolute 10 she’s ever seen and how it’s a little comical to look at when there could’ve been much hotter women. You also hate how she keeps glancing back at him and giggling, not even sparing a glance at you.

“That woman cannot stop looking at me,” Leon whispers to you as he subtly motions to her.

“Her? Yeah, she called you ‘hot’ and ‘eye-candy’. She’s a little surprised to find out that you’re married to me,” you moodily mumble.

“Why is she surprised?,” he asks.

“Well, look at me and then look at you. You’re good-looking. Really good looking and I’m just here. To them, it would be more believable if you married some model or something. It’s like an ‘oh my god how did this marriage even happen’ moment.”

Leon looks at them, trained eyes staring them down for a solid few moments before turning his gaze back to you. “Well I kind of looked at me and then now I’m looking at you and I think you’re good-looking. Like really good-looking. I have a strong, intelligent, and independent person in front of me and I don’t think they need me but they still let me into their life. Yeah, I’m also having a ‘how did this marriage even happen’ moment’ because how did I get so lucky that out of all the people in this world, you fell in love with me and trusted the rest of your life and the lives after this to be spent with someone like me?”, he finishes. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in this world; he probably doesn’t need to look at the night sky in order to admire the stars when you have them in your eyes. The world just melted away into background noise, witness to the genuine love and loyalty Leon yields for you.

NOTE - Finally got to finish another request, a few more to go so just wait for that :)) I love being on break, can't wait for the summer break so I get to write some more (currently on a week-long break after exams, hopefully i passed with high scores on all exams!!). ALSO IT'S RE4R'S 1ST YEAR ANNIVERSARY WHERE I'M FROM LETS GOOOOO RAAAHHHHH 💪💪🔥🔥 I also got resident evil and dmc shirts I begged my mom for (she had no choice but to say yes /hj). Also I'm starting an AO3 account for devil may cry fics, if anyone's interested ;) That's all and thank you for reading my fics, esp to the anon who requested this- I hope you I lived up to your expectations <33 I <33333 UUUUUUUU

The dividers are from @plutism , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[literaryavenger]

Black Panther - Post Credit Scene

Summary: Bucky comes out of the ice.

Pairing: Avengers x F!Reader, Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: Nothing really for this one, maybe language. Mostly fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1.8K

A/N: I want to specify that I used google translator for the Xhosa, so I hope it's at least decent, but I thought it would be cute to put it in there. I've had this ready to go for WEEKS and I'm so glad I finally get to post it! I hope you like the idea of a reunion like this as much as I do! Enjoy!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You’ve been on the run for a year now with Steve, Sam and Natasha. A few weeks after you all escaped the Raft, Clint and Scott decided to make a deal with Ross to get house arrest because being on the run and away from their families was too hard for them.

The five of you that remained went from safe house to safe house while doing as many missions as you could, never staying in one place too long and still trying to help people to the best of your capabilities, with Wanda disappearing from time to time to spend time with Vision.

Lately, though, you’ve been noticing Steve’s been a little fidgety, even disappearing here and there for a couple of days at a time.

You want to ask him what’s going on, but you don’t want to be nosy so you wait for if and when he’s ready to talk about it.

And that time comes one random afternoon as you’re all sitting around in the living room of the safe house you’re in, Wanda being off with Vision.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” He sits next to you and you nod, putting down your book to give him your full attention. “I know you’ve all been wondering where I go every now and then, and I’m glad you didn’t push it. But I’m ready for you guys to know now.”

He addresses everybody before turning to you and looking straight in your eyes as he finishes. “Bucky’s awake.”

Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t seem to find it in you to say anything more than “Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner...” He looks actually sorry. “We just thought it would’ve been better to keep it as lowkey as possible.”

You nod and look at the floor, trying not to show your disappointment.

It makes sense. After all Steve is his best friend, his brother, his only family. You’re barely an acquaintance.

Right? 

“He asked about you.” your eyes snap back to him. “He wanted you to be there, but he understood. He’s glad you’re safe.”

“From the government or from him?” you mumble and Steve gives you an apologetic look, but lets it go.

“The thing is, I kind of need to ask you a favor.” you narrow your eyes at him and he raised his hands in surrender. “It’s nothing bad, I swear!”

“Fine,” you sigh. “What do you want?”

“It’s just, the mission we’ve been planning is important…” he looks at the plans and footprints on the table. “And only three of us are needed for it.”

You think you see where this is going. “You want me to take over your part of the mission?!” you look at him like he grew three heads. How the hell can you take on the role of a supersoldier?

“No, of course not. That’s the thing.” he quickly clarifies. “I can’t be spared for this, and we know the mission is gonna last a while.”

“Where are you going with this, Rogers?” you’re just confused now.

“Could you look after Bucky for me?”

Oh. You try hard not to look too excited about the prospect of seeing Bucky again and spending time with him.

“Are you… sure that’s a good idea?” you ask him as coolly as you can.

“It’s not gonna be hard. You just need to keep an eye on him from a distance.” good thing you managed your expectations. “Shuri’s gonna be working with him and, when he’s ready, she’ll let you talk to him.” Okay, you’re excited again.

“Uhm,” you have to at least pretend to think about it, right? “I guess, if I’m not needed on the mission and you are, I could do you this favor.”

You fight a smile as you make the mistake to look at Sam, that’s grinning, knowing full well how you feel about Bucky. You groan and roll your eyes, but he says nothing, thankfully.

“Thank you.” Steve lays a hand on your arm and smiles at you. “This means a lot to me.”

“I know.” you smile back, then hug him.

“Okay,” he says as you let go “we’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

You nod and get up to finish packing the bag you were getting ready for the mission in a few days.

After you’re done, you go back to the living room to spend one last night with Sam, Steve and Nat as you don’t know how long it’s gonna be before you see them again.

The next morning you wake up thankful you’re not hungover and get your stuff with Steve’s into the jet, Sam and Nat accompanying you out to say the last goodbyes.

“I’ll miss you.” you tell Nat as you hug her “Please don’t cut your hair again while I’m gone.”

“I’ll try not to.” she laughs, hugging you back. “I’ll miss you too, Crazy.”

“Try not to miss me too much.” Sam tells you as he hugs you too, making you roll your eyes with a smile.

“Sure, birdbrain.” He groans at the nickname “Be careful.”

He nods and, after they say goodbye to Steve too, the two of you board the quinjet and make your way to Wakanda.

You are met by Princess Shuri and King T’Challa himself. You hug Steve goodbye as he makes his way to visit Bucky before his mission and to tell him he probably won’t be coming by again for a while. 

Shuri and T’Challa, who insisted you drop their formal titles, give you a tour of the palace and then take you to a guest room that’s basically a suite, and you’re shocked to find out you’ll be living here in the palace for the duration of your stay.

As promised you look after Bucky from a distance.

Every morning you and Shuri get escorted to Bucky’s hut where she works with him on his deprogramming as you and Ayo hang back.

Other than making sure he’s okay, there’s not really much for you to do so you take this time to get to know the people. It astonishes you how easy you get welcomed by the community.

You’re taught their customs by the locals, you pick up some Xhosa, not a lot but enough to have conversations and you’re even taught to fight by the Dora Milaje. Mostly Okoye and even Ayo since the two of you cleared the air after the whole airport fight.

She apologized profusely about the wound she inflicted in your arm, which has been fully healed for months now, and you assured her it was okay. You understood she was simply doing her job and admired her passion and determination to protect her king. 

Also, it turns out you broke a couple of her ribs, which you also apologized for, so you two decided to just call it even.

You got comfortable fast; dressing with their clothes, participating in their festivities and playing around with the children everyday as Shuri does whatever she does with Bucky.

You’re always careful to not get too close to be seen while still being close enough to keep an eye on them.

After their sessions Shuri always brings you up to speed and then you report to Steve to let him know Bucky’s doing good.

You’re making your way to Shuri’s lab where you’ve met her everyday for the couple of months that you’ve been in Wakanda.

“Good morning, Princess.” you tell her, bowing when you stop in front of T’Challa. “My King.”

“Stop that.” he swats at you as both you and Shuri laugh.

“Ready to go?” Ayo asks and you eye her suspiciously as she’s grinning like she does right before she makes a move that instantly knocks you on your ass during training.

“What are you up to?” you ask her but she just keeps on smiling.

“Today is the day, Agent.” Shuri tells you as smirks, knowing how you feel about the nickname.

“I’m not an agent of anything.” you roll your eyes, then register what she just said. “Wait, what do you mean, today’s the day?”

“Sergeant Barnes is ready.” she says and you can’t help the smile that comes to your face, which falls with a groan when you see them all smirking at each other at your reaction.

“Let’s just go.” you say as you turn around and start walking with Shuri and Ayo.

“Have fun!” T’Challa yells after you.

“Your order is my command, Your Highness!” you yell back and you all laugh at the loud groan he lets out.

As always, Shuri gets closer while you and Ayo hang back and she walks to the shore of the lake in front of the hut and then stops there.

You see three kids run out of Bucky’s hut, laughing, and the princess turns around as they run up to her and hug her.

“Are you playing around with that man again?” she asks, laughing. “You’re teasing him again.” she keeps teasing them as they chant ‘no’ between laughter and you can’t help but smile.

Bucky exits the hut and, like every other day, he takes your breath away. His sun-kissed skin, his Wakandan robes, his growing beard and the longer hair. The whole style just suits him.

You see him take a deep breath and then he gets closer to Shuri as the children run towards you giggling about the “Ingcuka Emhlophe”. [White Wolf]

“Uyayithanda Ingcuka Emhlophe?” you ask them. [You like the White Wolf?]

“Yena engaqhelekanga” one of the kids says and you laugh. [He’s strange]

“Kutheni ephulukene nengalo nje?” another one asks you. [Why is he missing an arm?]

You aren’t sure what to say, they are children after all, but you try your best.

“Kuba uyindoda ekhaliphileyo eyathi yenzakala xa inceda abantu.” [Because he is a brave man that was injured while helping people]

They all look at him in awe just as you hear Shuri say, “Sergeant Barnes.”

“Bucky.” he corrects her and you smile.

“How are you feeling today?” she asks him.

“Good. Thank you.” she smiles and motions towards you.

“Come. Much more for you to learn.” she says as she starts walking.

He takes a second to look out at the lake before following Shuri, but as soon as he spots you, he stops.

He stares as you’re giggling with the children that are now circling around you and dancing, and when you look towards Bucky again his eyes are already on you.

You blush a little at his intense gaze but he seems to snap out of it when your eyes meet his and he gets closer until he’s right in front of you.

“Sergeant.” you say, smirking.

“Doll.” he says, smirking back.

You smile at each other until Shuri clears her throat and you turn to look at her just to see both her and Ayo with a smirk of their own. You roll your eyes at them, but your smile stays on.

“Shall we?” Shuri says and starts walking, Ayo right behind her.

Bucky takes your hand and starts walking after Shuri too, pulling you with him, both of you feeling like nothing could wipe the smiles off your faces.

Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham @mary-jinx @abbyyourlocalmilf @selcouthial @esposadomd @americaarse @multiversefanfics

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Prompts Tour, which affords me the opportunity to be supremely self-indulgent]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) 13: laugh (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

Is this still the number for John Watson?

John pauses, thumb hovering. Before he can choose a response, another message flashes in.

It's Harry

He nearly drops the phone. Or maybe he nearly throws it against the wall. Hard to say. 

His reflex to caretake wars with his lingering resentment of her absence. But he knows he would regret ignoring an olive branch… or whatever this is.

Hi

Everything okay?

No small talk, got it

Yes I'm fine, good in fact

and no I'm not going to ask you for money

He breathes in deeply.

I'm glad things are going well for you

And he is, at least in the abstract.

Thanks

I know this is the part where I'm supposed to ask how you are

But you know I'm pants at texting

Can we just have coffee or something?

John taps his phone to his lip absently and considers his options. A public reunion seems like it could be a volatile mistake, not to mention it's 7pm on a weekday. Sherlock is at the lab, Rosie is having her after-supper blanket time, and John is catching up on charting.

And to be honest, he's pretty bored.

Come to mine for tea?

Harry's three dots wibble for a while, which John supposes is fair.

Right now?

With my schedule, I have to take opportunities where I can

Okay, yeah, I'm free

He sends her the address, feeling both pleased and annoyed. One would think that hitting his own rock bottom would make him more sympathetic towards his sister. But really, it just piles helpless anger on top of guilt on top of anger, ad nauseum.

He's not even sure she knows he's a father, for Christ's sake.

Turns out, she doesn't. She walks through the door he holds open for her, and stops abruptly when she sees Rosie. 'Oh my God,' she breathes, staring. 'Oh my God. You--' She turns to John, eyes wide. 'She-- Johnny. She's yours?'

He nods, and despite everything, he feels his face curve into a proud smile. 'Her name's Rosie.'

'Can I--' Harry indicates the blanket with a sharp movement. 'Can I say hello to her?'

'Yeah, course.' He follows her, and folds himself down behind Rosie. 'Sweetheart, this is your Aunt Harry.'

Harry makes a bit of a squawking noise, probably at the 'aunt' bit, but tamps it down. 'Hi, Rosie,' she manages, her voice rough but determined. 'It's lovely to meet you. What are you playing with?'

'Avocados,' Rosie mostly manages to say, then holds one up for Harry without hesitation. Harry takes it with a giggle, and before long they're thick as thieves with a pile of emoting avocados between them.

Harry glances up at him when there's a lull. 'So. The dad life is treating you well, yeah?'

He hesitates, then nods. 'It is now.'

She eyes him, but doesn't ask about what came before now. Instead, she says, 'I'm just going to ask, alright -- who's the other parent?'

He raises an eyebrow. 'Why d'you say there is one?'

Her eyes twinkle. 'Because you do not have the fashion sense to have bought her this outfit. Your bird rich, then?'

He coughs. 'Well. No.'

She waits, though he can see she's trying not to be annoyed by his reticence. She's never understood people wanting to keep things private. 'No?'

'My… flatmate. He's able to buy her things I don't give a toss about, yeah.'

She blinks. 'You have a gay flatmate?'

John feels his ears heat up. 'I do, yeah.'

She seems weirdly impressed. 'You've come a long way from being a rugby lad, haven't you?'

He snorts. 'I'm learning how to do plaits, if you'll believe it.'

'She's not got enough hair for that yet.'

'Sherlock--the flatmate--insists it's a useful skill, though I've no idea why.'

She doesn't reply, and he looks up from where he's helping Rosie with her current avocado. 'What?' he asks, though he knows it's useless. Harry is no Sherlock but honestly, she doesn't have to be, because his emotions have always been written all over his face. It's a curse and a blessing.

'Oh holy shit,' she breathes out.

'Language,' he admonishes reflexively.

'Sorry, I mean-- Holy noses, Johnny.'

'Don't be smug.'

'Oh, I take no credit for this, I always knew the overcompensating locker room talk was hiding something.'

He rolls his eyes, but his lips are twitching. 'Yeah, insecurity about willy size.'

'Okay, ew, first of all. Second of all-- What the--' He gives her a warning look. 'Ever-loving heck.'

'Short version?' She nods quickly. He decides to also give her the slightly-less-mad-sounding version. 'Got married, got pregnant, had baby, wife passed away, realised I had feelings for my flatmate. Who is a man. And who is effectively fathering my child.'

She claps her hand over her mouth, and for a moment he fears she's going to cry, but then realises she's laughing.

'Oi, that's just not on,' he protests.

'But it's ridiculous!' She holds out a hand to him placatingly, speaking through continued laughter. 'It's lovely and sad and all that, but you have to admit--'

There are tears escaping the corners of her eyes, and he feels it begin to bubble up in his chest, too. Her laugh has always been a thing of beauty, of loud, annoying, contagious, unforgettable beauty, and he can't help it.

And she's right, really. It is kind of ridiculous.

He lets out his own laugh, finally, and reaches for her hand.

[❤️]

[natasha-in-space]

Hey ive a small request. I just thought of yoosung route with an mc who....actually knew him for a long time and had secretly crushed on him and admired him when both of them were in school. It is pretty canon that yoosung was a popular kid at his school and had many girls crushing on him. One of the girls happened to be mc who cant help but admire him from afar. Back in the day yoosung was the first guy who had been kind and sweet towards her and that stuck with her for the rest of her life. She never confessed her feelings, thinking that she might be "too weird" for him (since she was one of the "weird girls" of the class because of her shyness).

She however never found out about his grief regarding rika, she has a faint memory of him appearing sad on the day of graduation and she has no idea why...it just felt very unusual of him from her perspective. She mustered up some courage to ask him why he is sad but he pushed her away by plastering a fake smile and saying "im actually fine dont worry", she knew he was lying but that day she couldnt ask him more and force him to talk. Few days later she moves out to a different country with her family

Fast forward to current time she ends up being stuck in the apartment because she could not say no to an obviously shady man and finds the same guy she had once admired.

Because the mc here is a very socially awkward person, I am pretty sure she would end up only inviting a handful of people so its going to be the normal ending instead of good ending (which basically means that she would meet him at the hospital and not at the party)

So how do you think the reunion will be. I love your writings very much i want to see your take on this

Life can be so peculiar.

You can meet people by who's side you will end up spending the rest life with, by pure chance. Or, you can lose the one person you thought understood you more than anyone else could. It's unpredictable. And that's a thought that is both terrifying and relieving to ponder over late in the night, when there is nothing else fot you to do but just lay there and stare at the ceiling of your bedroom, deep in thought.

It was unexpected to meet Yoosung again, to say the least. It seems like such cliche story, ripped straight from some generic k-drama and not real life, doesn't it? A shy, closed off kid meeting their popular high school crush further down the line, when they are both now established adults with their own individual lives. But, then again, maybe it wasn't as strange. It's not like you went through some mind-boggling 'glow-up' in these few years, like characters in k-dramas usually do. You were still the same introverted and kind of nerdy dork you were in high school, just a bit more capable of putting up a somewhat acceptable front in public.

Yoosung, though? He was almost an entirely different person.

Well, not entirely, but he was still a far cry from the popular and academic boy you knew back in high school. Not in a bad way, per se... But, it still shocked you quite a bit once you got to know him fully. Then again, it's not like you have really known him at all until now. That doesn't mean your past crush on him was superficial by any means, but it was still rather innocent and puppy-like on your end. You wanted to get to know him better, to see sides of him you couldn't see when he was in public... but, you were far too insecure and skittish to be so bold.

Alas, life had other plans for you.

His hair was not the same neatly styled brunette you remembered. In its place, was a new bright blonde hue that fit him surprisingly well, layered in an adorably casual look that made your heart skip a beat the moment you saw his selfie in the chat, when you first joined. His choice of clothing was more free-spirited, less classy and uptight. The type that made you wonder how his shirts would look and feel on you if you were to borrow them. And his overall attitude seemed to have become a bit more carefree and lighthearted. These major changes surprised you. But, they weren't unwelcome by any means. They intrigued you. Made you want to talk to him, and learn all the ways that he has changed in these couple of years.

Thankfully, you were a bit more chatty behind the safety of your phone.

With chatting, you could take your time and make sure your wordings are correct. You didn't have to just say the first thing that came to mind and then follow through with it. You could express yourself accurately. And you would use that lucky opportunity to its full potential.

Yoosung's apparent active neglect of his studies was surprising to you. The straight-A student you knew back in high school was completely different from this older Yoosung. Maybe you should have been put off by this particular negative change of his, but it only made you grow concerned for him. The more you talked, the less... happy he appeared to you. Sure, his attitude was cheery and carefree on the surface. But, sometimes, you would read upon a phrase or two that would make you pause, your brows furrowing in concern and your heart clenching in your chest, despite it being passed around like a light joke or something.

I don't really know what my talents are.

I don't really know what I want to do.

I just play games to get rid of stress or feel less lonely.

Trying to find what you're interested in itself is a luxury.

It felt like... he just gave up on himself. On his future, and, subsequently, his own happiness. That thought was gnawing at you. It's like he didn't... believe he was capable of finding fulfillment in life, so he gave up on trying altogether. It wasn't right.

Although he may have neglected his studies, he remained the same passionate and lively person you fell for in back in high school. His drive was still there, but it was almost like it got fizzled out due to something you couldn't quite figure out yet. You did remember him seeming rather... downcast back at your graduation. No, he looked downright crushed.

You have a distinct memory of wanting to approach him and inquire about his wellbeing. Maybe you could have offered for him to come and spend some time with you. Yet, as always, you were far too big of a scaredy cat to do so.

Things had changed since then. You may be shy and timid, but you weren't going to let your fears and insecurities hold you back from doing something you knew in your heart was right. Not when life has given you a second chance like this.

And so, that's how you got here. You finally got to see him face to face after eleven days of complete and utter rollercoaster of emotions. Meeting Yoosung in the hospital ward wasn't how you planned it... but, you were just glad to see him smiling and safe.

Furthermore, his smile was meant for you. An observation that left you reeling as you walked sheepishly into his hospital ward, knowing that everyone has left to give you some alone time. It was just you and him now.

"...Hi."

He smiles wider, as if he's excited to finally hear your voice in person, no longer muffled by his speaker phone. You can see him straining a little bit to sit upright, but ultimately deciding against it. "Hi."

So much to say, yet so little time... You find yourself just staring at him for a few moments, before deciding to just go for it. Considering everything that happened during these eleven days between you two, there was no need for you to be cautious or distant. He was pretty straightforward with you about his feelings. Much more upfront than you could ever be. And, some part of you was still in disbelief that he has actually come to love you in such a short amount of time.

It was too good to be true.

You reach his bedside and sit on the chair placed neatly next to it. Without thinking much about it, you reach out and place a gentle hand on his palm, his skin soft and warm under your touch. It makes you smile almost inadvertently. "It's... so good to finally see you. Are you alright? We were all so shocked when Seven..."

"-I'm okay. You don't have to worry." Yoosung cuts you off in a soft tone, his smile turning a bit bashful, and you feel his fingers cautiously intertwining with yours, almost like he was testing the waters, wanting to see if you will pull away from his touch. Of course, you didn't. He sighs, seeming to be enjoying the comfortable silence for a brief moment, before continuing, his thumb warmly brushing the back of your hand. "I promise I'll tell you everything a bit later. There will be no secrets between us. I just... I want this moment to be about us, you know?"

Your heart flutters in your chest as you nod in response to such sweet words. You knew what he meant, though. You really did. He was brave enough to say it openly while you weren't. "What... do you want to talk about?"

You opt to give him the initiative here. To see where this would go. He hums softly, pondering for a few moments before replying, his eye always fixed on you. Not like you could blame him. Finally talking to him face to face and not having to imagine what he actually looks like, was having the same effect on you. You two might be more similar than you think.

"...I just... I can't help but think that this was fate, you know? That Rika really did bring you to me. To help me find what I have lost back when she left us. To help me move forward with my life." He licks his lips, and you give him an encouraging nod, letting him know that you are indeed listening. Rushing this was not necessary. He seemed to appreciate your gesture, with an adorably sweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that made your heart swell. "It's funny... I was so popular back in high school, I had so many people I called my friends, and yet, I barely have seen them since then. Yet, the one who made their way back into my life like a hurricane was... you."

You can't help but chuckle and shake your head a little bit. "I would say it was the other way around... but, I am flattered to hear that."

You sway in your seat, unsure if you should mention it or not. In the end, you make the decision to be truthful. You two are technically a couple now, after all. It's only right to be honest with him. And... a huge part of you was always longing for a chance to tell him what you were far too scared to tell all those years ago.

So, you go for it.

"...How surprised would you be, if I told you that I actually had a huge crush on you back in high school?"

You watch his eyes widen and his mouth fall open as he just stares at you for a few moments, completely taken aback by your revelation. It was both endearing and a bit embarrassing to witness. You chuckle nervously, feeling your cheeks grow warm as you look down at your hands locked together, suddenly far too shy to look him in the eye.

"You just seemed so out of my league back then... You were the popular guy - one everyone liked. And, I mean... who was I? Just an anxious mess always sitting in the back of the class. Invisible and weird. So, I... never really approached you about it." You pause, your expression growing a bit somber as you call back to the day of your graduation. An event that was meant to be a moment of triumph and joy. A celebration of the start of your future. Yet, for you two, it wasn't anything like that. "What I always regretted the most, though... was not talking to you back at our graduation. I could tell that something was wrong, but I was too much of a chicken to actually do anything about it. So, I... when I walked into that apartment, and realized it was actually you... I don't know. I just felt like life has given me a second chance. To make things right this time."

There are a few minutes of silence between you two, nothing but the muffled noises of the hospital bustling with life on the other side of the door, and your shared breathing. Despite this, it's not suffocating or uncomfortable at all. It's oddly peaceful. You know he's processing all that you just told him, and you feel strangely calm as you give him all the time he needs before he responds.

Yoosung gently tugs your hand, a silent request for you to look up at him, and you grant him that request without any reservations on your part. His rosy eye is soft as he looks at you, and his brows slightly knit together, but it is not an expression of displeasure or unhappiness. Rather, it's a look of curiosity and disbelief that makes your breath catch in your throat. You remain silent, though, just waiting for him to come up with his piece.

You told your truth. Now, it was his turn.

"All this time... All this time you were right there, by my side, and I didn't even know it. You really are my blessing, aren't you, Y/N?"

His voice shakes as he speaks, his throat bobbing as he clearly attempts to swallow his emotions. It doesn't seem to work, though, as you can see his eye glistening slightly with unshed tears. So much for not getting emotional. As you gently squeeze his hand, you feel yourself becoming quite choked up too. A small laugh escapes you: a natural response to a rather emotional exchange happening between you. "I wouldn't call it that... I was too much of an anxious mess to do anything for the majority of that time. I'm still that awkward, scared kid, to be quite honest. Just a little bit more mature now."

Yoosung shakes his head, and an adorable pout takes its place on his cheeks. He almost seems offended when he hears you talk about yourself in this manner. "You are so much more than that."

"Yeah?" You smile, finding his insistence rather cute.

"Your words, your encouragements, your trust in me - it all gave me strength to let go of my grief and move forward with my life. Before you came along, I... I was just adrift. After Rika passed, I... I honestly felt like a big part of me died with her. I no longer knew who I was, or what I was meant to do, or if there was any point to what I do, if all my efforts could be just ripped away from so cruelly. I gave up on myself. Truth is, deep down, I didn't believe I could be happy. But, you..." he squeezes your hand, laying his other palm atop of it now as well. "You came along, and you believed in me, when no one else did. You encouraged me and told me that it's never too late to seek out that happiness I thought I lost. You never judged me, never made fun of me. You just... listened. Listened and accepted me for who I was. No, you saw things no one else saw, not even me. I can finally say that I am proud of who I am, and that's because of the way your words have motivated and encouraged me. You are the most brave and amazing person I know. And I'll be damned if I don't tell you that every single day from now on."

You're at a loss for words when faced with such a heartfelt speech. It's just too much. In the best way possible. You are pretty sure you can feel a couple of tears sliding down your cheeks now, as a tiny laugh slips from your lips. You wipe your eyes with your free hand, sniffing.

"...I forgot how great you are at giving motivational speeches."

Your blunt response makes you both laugh, a new lightness filling your chest as you suddenly feel all your nerves fade from your mind. Yoosung didn't make you nervous. Not at all. You knew you were safe with him. Just like you always took his problems and struggles seriously, he would do the same for you.

"I wasn't the class president for nothing, you know."

"That you weren't."

[picturethoughts]

** Iron Flame SPOILERS might come ahead **

It's been roughly two weeks since I finished the book. As it always happens when I finish some story I love the hangover is real, so I've been back and forth between fanfiction and fourth wing and Instagram reels before actually going for a second read of Iron Flame. I've been trying to avoid theories in general cause as much as I want to know what people think, I'm also scared to know what those theories actually are. But I guess after stumbling upon contrasting opinions about the actual book (and not where the story might go from here) I am really curious to know the fandoms general opinion about the story. The expectations vs reality kind of thing. Because I'm thorn. I've been thorn and I can't make up my mind. A friend of mine asked me before finishing her read if I was disappointed, and I said no, not really. And now I don't know anymore if that's true.

I started Iron Flame as, I'm guessing, the majority if not all of the readers who love this world and this characters from the beginning, with my expectations on the roof and that nervous, anxious feeling in my stomach. Part one was fourth wing all over again. The built tentions were good, great even, I was at the edge of the seat so to speak, there was a good pacing, kinda similar to FW in my opinion. But the Violet butting heads with Xaden over and over and over again over the same issue was beginning to be a bit much. Kinda disappointing even. Because I was expecting mature Violet, as she was before, and open Xaden as he promised, so I was a bit confused about the sudden change in direction. Yes she felt betrayed and hurt, but she understood his choices and the why... I wasn't expecting her to fall right back but I expected her to reason and figure out in her head the best plan to go forward, and I feel like she got stuck. And we can say Liam's death affected her more deeply maybe but the thing is she never dives into those feelings does she? She never truly speaks of it. She saw one of her closest friends die in her arms and she does not talk about it. I expected a conversation or more, an emotional growth specially with Xaden. The same thing could be said about finding her freaking brother alive. I don't think they really truly had the conversations needed to evolve from that kind of information, I don't think she processed it in her core. And that was so confusing to me.

And then we end part 1. Violet hallucinates about Liam, that she doesn't mention to anyone, which, again, I expected her to confront that situation at some point with someone, to mention it to Xaden at least. She also gets separated for god's know how many days from Tairn, he didn't have access to her mind and seeing how absolutely out of his mind he was when she was dying at the end of FW, I expected him to be breaking the fucking school in search for her, and when Xaden finally came to rescue her, the dragons were relieved of course but I didn't get that same emotion, that powerful feeling that Tairn evoques when speaking of their bond. I thought we were going to have kinda of a reunion, an explanation, a confrontation, a virtual hug and cry and she's fine and she's right there with them again, in beginning of part two. So I was expecting and waiting, and one more page, one more subject, one more step moving on from that, and no one talks about it. It's kind of mind blowing really, when she experienced not one but two traumatic experiences and it's swept under the rug just like that. And I. Don't. Get. It. It doesn't make sense to me and it frustrates me and please someone explain it to me.

I won't get into details of part two cause the pacing was a lot more slow-ish, I still felt there was not enough real bonding between the dragons and Violet, her relationship with Xaden felt stagnant and that final battle was underwhelming, tbh. Less confusing to follow than in FW, so kudos to the author, but still really underwhelming. Superficial and yeah, I guess disappointing.

So I guess after all that I do feel disappointed in the work but mostly because I don't think it did the characters and that amazing world justice. I'm one of those readers who gets really immersed into the story, the characters become my people, and I feel like they didn't have enough of anything to be more than they were last book. And that's really really sad. And it pisses me off, but mostly sad, and frustrating.

*sigh* well that's it. I'd really be grateful if someone could share their pov when they closed the last chapter. The hangover is really real and it's here to stay.

[stuckonmain]

Gettin' the Band Back Together (Pt.22)

TOH Hunter/Golden Guard x reader

 Masks and Bets part twenty-two.

Series Masterlist

*******

  Sometimes life is weird.

  My life is a really weird one, personally, but you know how that goes- it’s all in the territory of being a grimwalker with a contrived backstory that the author made up back in middle school. I’m used to it.

  I think it’s funny really, at this point- because after all the shit I’ve dealt with, I wasn’t even there when Collector finally understood the meaning of friendship. I wasn’t there when Raine Whispers got possessed by Belos. I wasn’t there when Luz saved the day, no…I…was in the puppet room.

  Well, the archive house, technically. But…I was there.

  Because Lilith was there.

  I sighed. Lilith wasn’t the only one there- there were so many people, old classmates, old friends, maybe, innocent people…

  “This isn’t fair, Lulu.” I said aloud, sitting cross-legged on the floor. It was one of those rare times when I could wear my own clothes- a simple black tunic and lace up boots- and it made an astronomical difference. So much comfier than the heart covered monstrosity Collecter thought I should don.

  “Titan, all I wanted was to be a normal kid.” I laughed, running a hand through my hair. 

  I was monologuing to the empty people, naturally (You can take the witch outta the theater, but good luck taking the theater outta the witch), which was…a fun new habit.

  “It’s just…so unfair that I was the only one who was freaking willing to steal Belos’s stupid things. Why’d Collector havta like me? I’m horrible! I tried to bite them when we first met in person!” I complained. “But then again…I guess that worked great for Hunter n’ I, huh?” I chuckled. “I probably tried to bite him too back when we first met. I dunno. I was twelve or eleven or something, seems possible.”

  (It was easier to monologue about these silly lighthearted things, y’know?)

  (Meant I wasn’t thinking about the reality I had somehow found myself in, which was always nice.)

  I sighed again, looking up at the ceiling.

  The ceiling was sparklier than usual…

  “Well that’s pretty weird…” I mumbled, expecting Collector to pop out or something. It was all celestial and sparkly like his portals-

  A figure began to emerge from the glimmering ceiling. There they were.

  No…wait.

  That wasn’t The Collector, and they definitely weren't emerging- more like falling. 

  Purple hair, gold-brown eyes, pale skin- that was…

  “Amity?”

  THUD!

 “What the Titan-” I squeaked, jumping back from where Amity Blight had ungracefully landed. 

  She was puppet-ified too, and dressed in some weird costume. Fuck.

  If they were all back…how? Maybe I was dreaming-

  THUD! THUD!

  Soft features and gorgeous hair. Willow. Tan skin and curly hair and- round ears! A human I didn’t recognize. 

  “Uhhm…shit.” I mumbled, staring at the porcelain-like sheen on their skin. I swallowed, and cast a quick spell circle- summoning a pile of pillows. 

  Cool cool. My friends who had disappeared into the human realm were caught by The Titandammed Collector. THUD! THUD! THUD!

  Dark skin and small stature. Gus. Tan skin and dark hair. Another unrecognized human. Fair skin and long blond hair, and a shirt with creatures I didn’t recognize-

  Hunter. 

  I winced and took an unsteady step towards his unconscious, puppet-ified body. 

  “Damn…” His face was streaked with a brand new scar.

  “Well this isn’t quite how I wanted our reunion to go.” I said softly.

  It was okay, it was fine- this was fixable! I’d just- I’d beg Collector to free them all! Yeah, that’d…probably not work great…uh…

  THUD!

  “Luz!” I yelped on instinct- but the final puppet had (S/C) skin and (H/C) hair streaked with grey…

  “You’re not Luz.” I said.

  The puppet did not respond nor give me any exposition.

  “Typical.” I grumbled. These stories can never be easy for me, huh?

  I sighed, sitting on the pillows. 

  As per usual, I was back to waiting. Maybe King would be able to help me…

  Wait. 

  Amity’s hand was…moving.

  Tracing a circle in the dust on the ground…

  What?! 

  Oh- those glyphs! Luz’s glyphs!

  I feverishly tried to remember what the glyphs looked like.

  Sorta like…like a person in a cloak…

  A circle, a line, a triangle, more lines…and…

  “Ha! Light glyph, babeeey!” I grinned weakly, tapping it to life.

  It floated off the ground in a glowing orb of light, and Amity’s followed after it.

  “Oh my gosh. It worked!” Amity grinned.

  Wait what.

  “What?”

  “(Y/N)?” she said, eyes widening. 

  “How the hell did you de-puppet-ify yourself, Amity Blight?” I said , staring at her.

  “(Y/N), you’re okay! ...where are we?”

  “These must be the Archives.” Willow said, rubbing her eyes as she stood up.

  Gus rose, looking around. “Camila! Lane, Leo!” 

  “Wha- huh?” the (H/C) haired human grunted, standing up slowly, but I wasn’t really paying attention to him.

  “Hey Hunter.” I said, watching him blink his eyes open.

  “(Y/N).” he whispered.

  “You’re quite the sight for sore eyes, Goldie.” I grinned, holding out my hand to help him up.

  He ignored the hand, choosing instead to bowl me over in a hug.

  “(Y/N).” he exclaimed, grinning. “I missed you so much.”   I hugged him back, squeezing tightly. “You’re- you’re here. Titan, I can’t believe you’re really here…”

  “I am so sorry.” he said solemnly, voice cracking. 

  “No- no, no- jeez Hunter, I’m the one who’s sorry…I can’t even imagine how worried you guys must’ve been, all alone in the human realm!” I said, pulling away a bit to look at him. “Your hair’s longer now.” I observed.

  “Yeah…and you’re…um…sadder looking?” he said slowly.

  “Damn, okay, rude. I’m only a little bit more traumatized, it’s fine.” I teased, ruffling his hair.

  He flinched, and I quickly drew my hand back. “Sorry.” I said softly.

  He swallowed and touched his hair. “Um…no, you’re good…I just…I wanna haircut, that’s all.” He shrugged almost casually, but I had a feeling there was a story there- one that I didn’t need to know unless he told me.

  And it struck me how he’d been through things in the past few months that I might never know about. 

  Judging by his new scars…he had been through a whole lot.

  “I can’t believe it’s been so long since I last saw you.” I whispered, tracing the scar on his arm.

  He nodded, squeezing my hand. “I can. It felt like you were gone forever (Y/N), I was so- I was so scared.” He looked beach up at me, and I noticed then that his eyes were different.

  “Your eyes are brown.” I said. Maybe this was all just a weird lucid dream.

  …Nah. Dreams were never this vivid. And while I briefly entertained the idea of it being a Collector-induced illusion, I doubted he was that cruel- like it or not, the kid liked me. And much to my chagrin, I didn’t hate him anymore.

  “Yeah.” said Hunter, looking away. “Like- like Flapjack’s.”

  It was then that I noticed the fact that Flapjack was not there.

  “Oh.” I said, squeezing his hand. 

  “Yeah.” he repeated, voice breaking. “I- I’ll tell you later-”

  “Hey guys…where’s Luz?” Amity said, eyebrows knit together as she stepped in front of me.

  “Uhm…I was actually about to ask you that.” I winced.

  “Well this isn’t ideal.” said the (H/C) human.

  The familiar looking (H/C) human.

  “Oh my Titan.” I whispered, squeezing Hunter’s hand, and the human turned to me, eyes widening like mine were. “You’re…you’re-”

  Hunter coughed, stepping between us. “Oh, right. Uhm…(Y/N), this is Leo, once called Nico Bryony. Leo, this is (Y/N), your long lost…child…sibling?”

  “Jesus, that sounds wrong.” Nic- Leo winced.

  “Yeah.” I said, staring at him. “It does. Hunter has a way with words.”

  Hunter nodded proudly before realizing it was sarcasm, shooting me a look of betrayal.

  “So…you’re Lilith’s mysterious ex-boyfriend?” I said dumbly, and Leo shook his head.

  “You also have a way with words.” He snorted.

  “It’s a talent.” I said softly.

  “So this is Hunter’s (Y/N)?” said the woman who looked like Luz, smiling weakly.

  “Oh- hi!”

  “(Y/N), Camila Noceda. Camila, (Y/N) (L/N) Clawthorne.” Amity said quickly, waving back and forth. Now back to Luz-”

  “Wait wait but I wanna meet (Y/N)-” said the final human adult, the tall woman with short black hair, but Amity shook her head hard, shooting her a glare.

  “-Okay then!” the woman squeaked.

  “Wait can we go back to the part where you’re alive, sir?!” I exclaimed.

  “Nah, The Audience already knows- we’ll just explain it offscreen.” Hunter said, patting me on the shoulder.

 “Wait, I thought I was the only one allowed to break the fourth wall-” I started to say, but a loud rumbling sound cut me off. 

  I stared at the source of the sound, eyes widening. The ceiling was breaking into some very anxiety inducing hairline cracks- 

  Nope, scratch that, they were definitely worse than that.

  A chunk of ceiling hit the ground right next to Hunter, and he yelped, teleporting both of us a few feet away. Well that was certainly a development.

  Amity narrowed her eyes, casting a quick protection spell that-

  Uhm…didn’t work.

  “What's wrong with my magic?” Amity panicked, trying and failing to get the abomination goo to rise.

  Camila stepped forwards. “Can't you tell? You're exhausted. You all are! None of you have gotten rest in days.”

  I raised my hand. “I have.”

  Hunter glared at me.

  “Okay maybe I haven’t.” I muttered, lowering my hand.

  Willow frowned. “But what can we do? We can't leave everyone like this.”

  “And what about Luz?” Hunter added worriedly.

  Camila smiled, putting an arm around Amity’s shoulders. “Luz is a Noceda. You know what that means? It means she's way too stubborn to let any of this get her down.” I tried to ignore the flicker of doubt behind her eyes- Luz had to be okay. Hell, Leo was here, and if that could happen, then it follows that it must also be entirely possible for Luz to be okay…hopefully…

  Camila sighed softly, letting go of Amity. “She'll be okay.” 

  And yet despite the fact that there were tears in Camila’s eyes, I fully believed her. Luz was so so tough, she had to be okay.

  The human woman who’s name I still didn’t know patted Camila on the shoulder, and Camila gave a watery smile.

   “In the meantime,” Camila continued, wiping her eyes dry and speaking with an even more palpable confidence, "I think I know how we can help, even without your magic.” She took out a notebook and pencil.

  Ohhhh. Glyphs!

  I grinned. 

  Time to start drawing.

*******

Author's note: Sorry for the short chapter- this just seemed like the most natural cutoff! 

Also the title is a Phineas and Ferb reference for some reason and I am not sorry

Also I wanna invite a cool girl to see Asteroid City and you guys should peer pressure me into doing so

I probably need it

Taglist:

@vievi

@generousdoodleforillustration

@harlanfalcon

@ronipiamka

@draarnaak

@cloud-9ine

@jinxed-jk

@not-nubno

@hunter-therapy

@scaredy-cat-anne

@bleh-stupid

@luleck

[phoenix-wulf]

New and improved mc design 👀?

ok maybe not that much different

Thinking about @emersonfreepress has got me buzzing again

Reintroducing Evelyn Monroe, preppy good girl by day and casual grunge by night!

More personal info below~

Daughter of Henry and Catalina Monroe. 

Gender and Sex: Female  Hair: Black Eyes: Grey Sexuality: Bisexual Weapon of Choice: Blunt Weapons Ethnicity: French and Latina Style: Grunge, but Casual? Wears obnoxiously "loud" headband prints at school on purpose. Even if one is taken, a louder one takes it's place.

Relationships (via Evelyn's pov)

Gabe: Hello, my other half. We may be at each other's throats but we know we can't find anyone more complimentary. I truly love and hate how much we are alike. But I fear you've already passed the thresh hold I'm too scared to cross. And fear it'd be too late to turn back. Kile: They showed me the ropes after a while with different weapons. It was fun and sent a shiver down my spine. I can see how they found this entertaining, albeit a little worrisome just skill they are. I'll just be glad I'm on they're side. Vincent: The valedictorian with a stick up his ass? I'd say this was too cliche but this guy really has a problem with everything! If Vi winds himself up even more then he's gonna bust a vessel. But, he is fun to play with given how easily flustered he becomes. Maybe he needs some help to relax~ Rain: I like your funny words magic man. I don't know what they are saying half the time but they have so such passion it's kinda infectious. I tell them all the time "I better see your name in fashion week before the 10 year reunion." I hope they know I'm looking forward to it a lot. Jack: I don't think I've ever seen the perfect embodiment of the dog in a human. Such a good human with only pure intent? Impossible in snake pit of a school, yet here he is. He expanded my interest so much, did you know dungeons and dragons is actually fun?! He's so sweet, maybe we could.... But I pity him for having to be around Vincent so much. Jessie: Is she... the token sunshine in this group of vipers? How?? Jessie has explained they're all childhood friends but come on... And what is this girl's super power? Why do I feel the instinct to protect her despite knowing she can handle herself? Sigh, this is weird. Rohan: Musical soulmate. He's just so fun! I have and had friends before, but no one has understood me so seamlessly at a fundamental level. It's actually very jarring. He's disappointed very time I turn down his skipping offers so he calls me lame, jokingly of course. It's fine, I tell him "And I won't be the lame one that couldn't graduate the first time because I skipped all the time." We laugh. I've never had so much fun with a single person before. Heidi: Very hard to read but that's hardly new news. But y'know what? Respect to her. She plays the game around her with perfection and ease like an art. Especially with that friend group of hers. It's almost enviable. But I'm not here to admire. This social game needs an equalizer. Though its a little distracting when your "opponent" is so pretty Curt: Guilty pleasure. That stupid face... stop looking at me like that! I'm supposed to be the one that makes people flustered, not the other way around! How is able to get under my skin so much? Ugh I need to stay away before I punch his stupid face.

[ladylookslikeadude1]

Congratulations on 200!! For the prompt, because im weak to angst/hurt-comfort fics, what about one where Aizawa fucks up and unintentionally neglects Mido. It starts with getting home late to missing dates and forgetting things. Maybe because of a big year long case or maybe something with hizashi or oboro(to hurt more)but Mido feels thrown aside and forgotten. It adds up to Mido moving out and trying to leave because he wants to leave before being hurt again. Aizawa now trying to win him back.

So this is super super similar to the 'The Jealous Type' AU @rayshippouuchiha has going on, so I'm gonna absolutely suggest that you check out some of the bits that they've put out there! I've also written a prompt very similar to this already that I'm going to repost below. If this wasn't quite what you were thinking, let me know and I'll see what else I can wrangle up in that same vein!

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Izuku tried to be reasonable.  He really did.  The first, fifth, even tenth time Shouta had to cancel a date because of either a patrol that went long, or his students, or something, he understood.  Every canceled date, every time dinner went cold with him at the table staring at a phone with no notifications, he understood.  Or he tried to, at least, and he felt like he succeeded as much as anyone could ask him to.  But this was just too much.

“Shouta.”  Izuku wanted to break something.  “I told you about this six months ago.  I reminded you last month, last week, and three days ago.  I could not have physically given you more of a heads up than I did.”

His boyfriend sighed, looking exhausted.  “Izuku, please.  It’s a class reunion.  I know it’s important to you, and I’m sorry, but this stakeout is important too.”

Izuku wanted to scream.  “Ok,” he said finally, exhausted with the entire situation.

“Izuku.”  Shouta’s voice was quiet as he pulled him into a hug.  “I really am sorry, I didn’t exactly plan for this to happen.”

“It’s fine,” Izuku said quietly.  It wasn’t.  It wasn't even close to fine, but he was so tired of trying to convince his boyfriend that he was at least as important as his job.

“Go by yourself,” Shouta encouraged.  “I want you to have fun.”

So Izuku did just that.  Where he normally would have declined the invite since Shouta couldn’t come, he accepted and went to the reunion.  And, to his surprise, he had a blast.  Dancing and drinking with his peers, he found an acceptance with them that had been lacking when they were younger-with Izuku far less anxious and more likely to laugh than burst into tears now, he and his old classmates enjoyed each others company for what Izuku was pretty sure was the first time ever.

Eventually, he found himself on a barstool, listening to his old classmate talk about her ex-husband.  “Eventually,” she said, looking viciously amused, “He made it so I was happier by myself than I was with him-and what was the point of staying married when I hit that point?”

That question echoed in Izuku’s head as he unlocked his door later that night.  Every canceled plan, every cold dinner and ignored request for a day spent together swirled in his head as he shut the door behind himself.  He wouldn’t be happy without Shouta.  But would he be less unhappy than he was now if they broke up?  That was the real question that he needed to answer.

“You’re back late,” Shouta murmured from the couch, something dark in his eyes that Izuku had never seen before. 

Glancing at the clock, Izuku hesitated.  It was a little past eleven PM, which was later than Izuku normally made it home, but not so late Shouta should be as angry as he seemed.  “I was having a lot of fun,” he finally said, slipping out of his shoes and socks and tossing his jacket on the hook.  “I didn’t expect you to be here, actually.”  It was why he’d drank so much-he’d expected to have the night to himself to be maudlin and grumpy, and then actually make a decision once he’d sobered up.

Shouta’s eyes narrowed.  “Oh?  Planning on bringing someone back here?”  He asked, so lightly Izuku thought he was hearing things for a second.

“I’m sorry, what?”  He asked sharply, the anger he normally kept tightly leashed starting to slip from his control.  

There was something mean in Shouta’s expression as he tipped his head to the side.  “The stakeout ended early,” he said evenly.  “I decided to surprise you by meeting up with you at the reunion.  Imagine my surprise to see you dancing with people you always said you couldn’t stand.  Or,” his voice sharpened as he stood finally, “Listening so intently to a woman talking about how leaving her man was the best thing she could have done for herself.”

Izuku could make an excuse.  He could talk about how the woman had needed a friendly ear, how he wasn’t capable of looking disinterested when someone was talking about their problems-but it would be a lie.  He’d been lying every time he told Shouta it was ok when something was canceled or the man forgot to call-Izuku was tired of lying. 

“She said some things I think I needed to hear,” he said after considering his options.

Shouta had never used his size against Izuku, but the way he stalked over to him, invading his personal space aggressively felt for the first time like he was trying to intimidate Izuku.  “Are you thinking about leaving me?”  He asked, his voice quiet and furious.

Izuku sighed, moving away from him and farther into the living room.  He’d never let the older man intimidate him before, and he wouldn’t start now.  “I don’t know Shouta.  I’m tired and tipsy, so I’m not in a great place to be making any sort of decision at the moment.”  He paused.  “But you said, when we first started dating, that all I ever had to do was tell you I was done-that you wouldn’t fight me on it if that was what I decided.  Is that still the case?”  Izuku was honestly curious, because with how angry Shouta was it didn’t seem like it anymore.

Shouta reached out and threaded his fingers through Izuku’s gently.  “No,” he said quietly.  “That’s not the case at all.”  He tugged Izuku closer, using his free hand to brush Izuku’s hair out of his face as he kissed him sweetly on the mouth.  “You’re mine,” he said softly.  

Izuku sighed, pulling back.  He’d heard that before, along with promises to make more time for him that never actually panned out.  “When you say something so often, it eventually loses its meaning,” he said drily, tugging his hand free.  “Have you eaten?”  He was pretty well done with this conversation at this point.  

“Izuku.”  

He’d never heard that tone from Shouta before, so he turned immediately and was caught by the flatly furious look the man leveled at him.  “Shouta,” he returned after a moment, too tired to try to parse what his boyfriend meant this time.

“Are you really thinking about leaving me because I couldn’t go to this reunion?”  He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets with a scowl.

Izuku leaned against the doorway.  “I’ll tell you what,” he said.  “If you can tell me when the last time you and I had an uninterrupted evening together was, I’ll apologize for even considering it.”

And he waited.  Watching Shouta’s face, he saw him go from confused and slightly irritated, to concerned, and finally to a little bit horrified.  

“I can’t even remember the last time we spent uninterrupted time together was, let alone an entire evening,” Shouta murmured after a long moment.  “I…didn’t realize it had been so long.”

Sighing, Izuku told him, “I’ve asked you so many times to just make some time for me.  But there’s just no room for me in your life.”  He paused.  “You keep saying I’m yours, and maybe I am.  But I’m yours like a toy that you put up on a shelf, refusing to let anyone touch, and forgot about until you realize it’s been years since you’ve even looked at it.”  He shrugged then.  “I’m tired of trying to make myself fit into your life Shouta, when I don’t see you making the same effort.  I’m just done.”

It was a relief to admit it.  The idea had been slowly forming for months at this point, and hearing the exhausted woman tonight admit that leaving a man who didn’t make her life better had been the best choice for her had been the push he’d needed to finally admit to himself that he just wasn’t willing to try anymore.

“No.”  Shouta’s voice was perfectly calm, as if he was talking about the weather.

“No?”  Izuku repeated, puzzled.  “I-you don’t get to tell me that I’m not done, Shouta.  That’s not really how this works.”

Shouta moved closer, silent and predatory.  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “That I’ve made you feel like this.  I’m sorry that I haven’t been paying enough attention to what’s going on in our relationship.”  His eyes were dark as he reached out and pulled Izuku close again.  “But you have my complete, undivided attention now,” he said quietly, fingers digging in slightly to Izuku’s hips.

“I don’t need your undivided attention,” Izuku said slowly.  He was pretty sure there was something he was missing here, but Shouta was acting so out of character that he just couldn’t put his finger on what was off.  “I just wanted you to make some time for me.  And I don't’ know what could make this time so different than every other time you’ve said you’ll do better and then two days later you’re five hours late without a single text letting me know our plans have changed.”

Shouta hummed, maneuvering them over to the couch and sitting down, pulling Izuku down onto his lap. “You’ve never threatened to leave before,” he pointed out.

Izuku paused.  “I…don’t want you to feel like this is an ultimatum,” he said.  Shouta didn’t react well to ultimatums at all, and while Izuku would never be afraid Shouta would harm him physically he didn’t want to deal with the anger that came from ultimatums.  “That’s not what this is.”

“I know,” Shouta soothed, gentling the fingers digging into Izuku’s hips and instead cupping his hip while running his thumb over Izuku’s hip bone.  “You’ve never played those sorts of games, I didn’t think you would start now.  But you threatened to leave, and I saw you dancing with that man at your reunion looking like you were having more fun than I’ve seen you have in a while.  And then you were talking to the woman who was talking about how she was happier after leaving her husband…” Shouta trailed off.  

Izuku leaned against him, unable to hold himself stiff and still when Shouta was so warm and inviting right behind him, still rubbing soothing little circles on his hip.  “I love you so much,” he sighed, “But I don’t know if I can try again.  I’ve tried so many times.”

“I’ve made it hard on you,” Shouta agreed, hooking his chin on Izuku’s shoulder.  “I can make you happy Izuku, I just need you to try one more time.  Because I won’t let you go.  I can’t.  You’re mine,” he repeated, breath brushing against Izuku’s ear.  “I’ve neglected you, but I don’t do that anymore.  One more time,” he requested.

Letting out a shuddery little noise, Izuku shook his head slightly.  “I don’t think I can Shouta.”

“Well,” he said thoughtfully, making Izuku freeze at his completely reasonable tone.  “You could go ahead and leave me.  And then I could go behind you ruining the life of everyone who thinks they have a chance with you-starting with the man you were dancing with tonight.”  His tone had slid from totally reasonable to slightly vicious by the time he stopped speaking.

Izuku was completely still.  He should feel trapped, he knew.  He should be considering options to seriously walk away and protect himself-but honestly?  He felt wanted in a way he hadn’t for months at this point, and it made heat pool in his stomach.

“Ok,” he breathed out.  “One more time Shouta.”

The other man tumbled Izuku onto the couch, landing on top of him with one hand bracing him above Izuku.  “One more time,” Shouta agreed, and their kiss tasted like victory.  

[lottiebagley]

Family Reunions- George Weasley

Three years imagining a life together Love your family more than we loved each other I said I’d keep in touch and I did But the more we keep in touch, the more I miss him

The second she enters her small flat she can feel her entire world shatter around her. Leaning her back against the door as she sinks to the ground, head dropping into her hands as she wipes furiously at her eyes, trying to push the tears back in.

Once a week she had attended dinner at the burrow, it was nice, good to see Molly and Arthur and whichever kids were around, of course George was never there, the date marked in his calendar in a red pen reminder to not go home that day. To sleep and eat at the flat.

The family had been heartbroken to hear that he had broken up with his girlfriend, after the war he had committed all his time to helping Fred. His twin needed every last bit of his attention, helping with his physical therapy and his dwindling mental state and so George's relationship had taken a back seat. She hadn't minded, in fact she had understood, she even committed herself to helping too.

But a year after George decided to call things off, Fred was better, he was walking and he was happier and he was working again. It was the perfect time for him to focus on his relationship, after all the girl had proven herself time and time again. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe it was that he felt like he needed a minute alone.

Maybe it was the feeling that she was so much better than him. Maybe it was his mother's constant talks of rings and weddings. He wasn't quite sure but all of a sudden he felt like he was suffocating.

He sat her down in his bedroom in the flat. Explained that she wasn't the one and it didn't feel right anymore. He had watched as she cried and had attempted to comfort her only for her to push him away, fleeing his flat leaving a baffled Fred on the living room sofa, television on in front of him, wondering why the girl who may as well be a sister just left the flat in floods of tears.

George still visions his mother's face when he closes his eyes, the look on her face when he told her he ended his relationship. He remembers her disappointment. He remembers his brothers shock. He remembers his dad's sad sigh. He remembers his sister's passionate rant about how he never deserved her anyway.

As the girl cries on her hallway floor she vows that she will stop. Stop seeing the Weasley's. Not because she doesn't love them with every fibre of her being but because she couldn't handle the heart break. Couldn't keep sitting at their dinner table without his hand on her knee. Couldn't keep sitting on the swing set without him laughing and pushing her. Couldn't keep helping Molly clean plates without him sat on the counter teasing her.

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I love talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find the words to express The way that I wish I was the one But friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

Her resolve to stop seeing the Weasley's was gone by the next morning.

She woke up to a missed call from Charlie and called back, chattering away about his upcoming trip home as she got ready.

She arrived at her job at the ministry and met up with Hermione for coffee, deciding that when she eventually cut her ties she would keep Hermione. The girl was like a younger sister, although so was Ginny, but she figured one last tie to the family, someone to hear their news from would do no harm.

Arthur knocked on her office door in his lunch break, bringing with him sandwiches made by Molly and asking her to eat with him and she didn't have the heart to say no, so instead they ate in her office and talked merrily about the infestation of singing sunglasses he was dealing with today.

As she left her office she received a phone call from Ginny, who ranted about how annoying Harry was being and how now she had graduated and was training she felt like she had no time to focus on her relationship.

It was after she assured the girl that her and Harry were meant to be as she walked through the Leaky Cauldron she knew what she had to do.

She got a flat above a bookshop on Diagon Alley simply to be near George and now everyday, walking past his store, felt like torture. She hadn't been in the store, she'd avoided it like the plague even when Fred asked her to come and hang out with him and George wasn't working. So as she walked into the atmospheric shop her heart felt like it was sinking in her chest.

"Hey sweetheart, you all okay?" Fred asks with a bright grin, he's leaning on his cane for support and eyeing the door.

She could cry looking at him. Not just because he looks identical to the man who fell out of love with her and she still pined desperately for. No. Today the tears she blinks back are practically grief, she knew that, realistically, she would see Fred around, but she wouldn't be able to call him a friend anymore.

"I uh- could I speak to George?" she questions, Fred smiles gently, noticing her pained tone.

"Yeah, of course, you can go on up," he assures. She nods shooting him a small smile, but pauses on the stairs.

"Hey Freddie,"

"Yeah,"

"I want you to know that I am really proud of you, of the shop and of how much better you are and I mean when I first met you who'd have thought you'd end up here. I just-well I love you and I am really proud," She blinks back tears as she speaks, almost wishing she would get a chance to say a goodbye to all the Weasley's.

Fred smiles gently, somewhere in him he can tell, tell that this is goodbye and he's about to loose a friend.

"I love you too sweetheart, just remember no matter what that I am always going to be here for you,"

They share eye contact for a moment, both knowing and not saying it. Fred understood, he can only imagine how hard it must be to still be a part of his family's lives after George. He knew the girl in front of him loved his twin brother more than anything, he knew that deep down George loved her just as much, and yet here Fred stands, a silent goodbye hanging in the air.

Phone calls Sweet notes All the little things I used to love Now they just remind me that I was never enough We said we’d keep in touch and I tried But the more we keep in touch, the less I move on in life

"Hey George," she speaks quietly, standing in the hallway of his flat as he stands staring at her shock.

It's been a month since he saw her and his heart leaps at the sight of her, at her standing there with a small smile and teary eyes and a pencil skirt and blazer and messy hair and she's just her. She is her and it's everything he's been missing. He wonders as he stares at her how he ever thought that she wasn't the one. That she wasn't perfect. That she wasn't made for him.

Her own eyes are wide, seeing him sparking something in her that she didn't even know existed. He's shirtless, a white towel wrapped around his hips and his hair damp from the shower he just clearly had. Her eyes scan his toned chest, his broad shoulders, the light sprinkles of freckles. His scent, his cinnamon body wash, is so strong that it practically invades her body and she could scream and cry and all she wants is to kiss him.

"Oh-shit-hi. Is everything alright?" He's worried to see her, had someone died? Was she okay? Merlin, he wanted her to be happy more than anything in the world.

"Hey," she speaks quietly, backing a way a little when he tries to move closer, not wanting to be close enough that she could reach out and touch him.

"You said that already," he teases gently, testing the waters.

"I'm sorry- I-" she cuts herself off, not sure how to say anything that she wants to

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay," he comforts her gently "Why don't you go sit down, I'll get dressed and come, just give me a minute," he offers, she nods her head slowly.

When he enters the living room it feels natural. Seeing her sat on his sofa waiting for him feels right. He thinks for a second about how it could all be different. How he could be in pyjamas and she could be in one of his shirts, how he would jump on her and laugh when she tells him he is squashing her, how he'd have held her as they watch a film and make-out and he'd cook for her and they'd drink wine and enjoy a blissful Friday evening, wrapped up in each other.  

"You're all dressed up. Going anywhere nice?" she questions, eyes scanning his white dress shirt and jeans.

"The Italian, the one in Camden town,"

"With the little dog and the red wine?" she questions, George lets out a laugh at the memory of the time he took her there, it was a month after the war, thinking back it was probably the last time he took her out. He got so busy with Fred and the shop and she'd not been a priority when he knew she should have been, she never seemed to mind though.

"That's the one,"

"So, it's a date," she smiles gently, heart splintering in her chest

"Uh, yeah. Yeah it is," he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly

"That's great, do I know her?"

"Angelina," He admits quietly. She nods, forcing a smile.

"That's great George, I'm really happy for you. I'm sorry to disturb you-"

"No!" he cuts her off a little too eagerly, a little too happy to see her. "No, you are fine being here. I want to help with whatever is happening," he assures her

"Right, well I won't keep you long," she nods awkwardly

"Hush, none of that nonsense, take all the time you need," he reassures her, sitting down next to her on the sofa but keeping a respectful distance apart.

"So-well- I know that this is-" she cuts herself off with a sigh "Sorry, this is just...awkward,"

"Hey, it's just me. You can say anything," He moves his hand to place it gently on her knee, his heart stops at the way she gently pulls her leg away.

"I need you to tell your family to stop talking to me,"

"What?" he snaps, suddenly quite offended. "My family have been nothing but kind to you and-"

"Christ! it's not like that!" she gasps, he sighs

"Then what?"

"I can't be a part of their lives anymore. I know it sounds so selfish and I wish it was different but- George- I love your family. I really do. I just- being around them hurts. It kills me. It makes me want to just drop dead because every time I talk to them I think of you. Being in your house I can feel you and- I- it hurts. It hurts too much," She admits it in a tired whisper, George feels his heart break at the thought of her heartbroken because of him.

"Okay. I'll talk to them," he speaks quietly, she nods and stands.

"Goodbye George,"

"I'll see you around?" he asks quietly, the thought of this being it makes his heart hurt. When his family were stealing seeing him all the time it wasn't as bad, he always knew what was happening in her life. This, this was final.

"Yeah. Yeah maybe,"

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I’ll miss talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find the words to express The way you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

For the next six months George hears nothing. Without his family seeing her he has no idea how she is, if she's okay, if she's happier now. He lays up at night thinking about her and wishing he could turn back time.

She hears scraps, staying in touch with Hermione, she knows about Ron in depth, hears bits and pieces about the rest of the family. Too awkward to ask if George is okay, if he's happier without her, if he's with Angelina now.

Bill receives a card when his little girl is born but she doesn't pick up the phone when he calls her. Fred gets a text message when he finishes his physical therapy but when he replies it's left on delivered. Ginny swears up and down that she saw her in the stands of her first professional quidditch game but can't prove it.

So, with dread filling her body and curses at her nephew flying in her mind she enters Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She's hoping to go unseen by the twins, they had staff now and maybe they would never have to find out her annoyingly loveable nephew wanted a reusable swamp for his 12th birthday and absolutely nothing else would do.

"Hello, welcome to Weasley's Wizard- oh, hi," George's voice sounds anxious when he snaps his head up to see her standing like a deer in the headlights in the almost empty shop.

"Hey,"

"Is everything alright?" George wonders if the way his mind automatically jumps to something awful having happened because of the war or because he can't think of any other reason after everything he put her through that she would want to be anywhere near him.

"It's Max's birthday next week," she announces

"Yeah. 12, right?" George questions with a lopsided grin. He adored her nephew, the kid as giggly and energetic and just like him and Fred were as kids. He also loved the way she was around kids.

"Yeah," she confirms, surprised he remembers. "He, uh, started school,"

"Made Gryffindor I'm sure," George smiles, it's the first genuine smile he's let out in weeks

"Yeah. The first thing he said when he saw me at Christmas was that I just had to tell uncle George, didn't shut up about you once. I didn't have the heart to tell him we broke up so..." she trails off.

"He's a good kid,"

"He is. Professor McGonogall isn't quite so set on him,"

"Nah, she always loves the trouble makers," George smirks

"That's true," She smiles gently "Anyway, so he wants a portable swamp and nothing else instead for his birthday, so," she trails off once more, gesturing to herself.

"Well of course," George grins, pushing himself off the front desk that he had been resting on and striding across the shop floor to grab one. He grabs a basket, walking around the floor and plucking any product he thinks the kid might like, even a few unreleased things from the back room before returning to where she is standing at the front till with a small smile on her face.

"George-" she starts, he shushes her immediately.

"I'll gift wrap them for you," he announces, placing the full basket on the till

"You don't have to that," she protests but he laughs

"Actually, I kinda do. You are the worst at wrapping gifts," he teases making her smile.

"You got me there," she admits

"Yeah. So, how've you been," He begins scanning products through the till and wrapping them with ease

"Uh good. I got a promotion-"

"Wow! that's fantastic, and so well deserved,"

"How would you know?" She blushes as she speaks, not looking at the boy

"I do read the paper y'know? What is it now 100 war criminals you have single handedly found," he bolsters, she'd always wanted to be an auror but becoming so high up that she reported directly to the minister and had a big fancy office was only in her wildest dreams until now.

"What about you? How's things?" she questions

"They're good. Shop's going great and Fred's only getting better by the day. Little Victorie is so perfect and yeah life is, well, it's good," He can't bring himself to say that as much as everything is perfect he can't find it in him to be happy without her by his side.

"And Angelina?"

"We decided we were way better as friends. You dating?"

"I'm married to the job," she shrugs, not wanting to say she doubted she would ever fall in love again without him.

"I get that," he nods, placing the pile of wrapped up parcels into bags. He physically laughs when she grabs her purse and begins to gather money

"Sweetheart, you're not paying for any of this. I only rang it through the till because we have to stock management,"

"George, that is so kind but I can-"

"Yes you can, if it makes you feel better stick my name on a couple of the tags alright?"

"I will, I promise that I will," she nods, taking the bags from his hand "Thank you,"

"No bother. Give Max my best, yeah?" He smiles, she nods and he watches as she leaves the store, his heart that he hadn't even realised was practically beaming dulls back down when she goes.

Tell your mom to stop sending me recipes she finds on the internet And when your brother wins homecoming king

I won’t be there to witness it And when you find the words to express the way you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

"You busy?" Hermione leans in the doorway of her office

"I can make a couple minutes, what's up? We had coffee three days ago," she reminds as the brunette steps into the office, closing the door behind her and settling in the seat across the desk.

"I know and I wanted to ask then but I couldn't bring myself to it because I feel so bad asking," Hermione explains, twisting the diamond ring on her finger anxiously.

"'Mione, you can ask me anything. You know that if it's physically possible I'll do it," she assures, putting the papers she had been reading down to give her friend undivided attention.

"You're one of my best friends," Hermione states

"And you're one of mine," The girl nods, eyebrows furrowed in concern

"And when somebody does something big in their life they want their best friends there,"

"Hermione what ever you need I'm there. 100%"

"Big things like getting married. I'm getting married, you know that, I mean to say Ron and I have picked a date and it's four months away and we are getting married at the burrow in a marquee by the lake. I know it's a lot to ask of you. I mean it's not just some ex, it's George, and I know how hard it's been for you without him and I hate myself for asking. And it's not just seeing him it's being there, I mean you fell in love with him there and it's not just him it's all of them and I understand if you say no, but, I want you there," Hermione rambles

"Of course," She speaks without thinking, never would she not attend her friends wedding "Hermione, I would love nothing more than to be there,"

"Really?" Hermione beams

"Merlin, 'Mione did you think for a second I wouldn't come, it's your wedding,"

Love them like they are my own But I don’t think I’ll ever move on If you don’t , If  you don't

It had been the most obvious thing in the world to say yes when Hermione asked, but now, standing in a stupid, but undeniably beautiful, pale blue bridesmaid dress she felt nervous. Hermione had insisted she had no obligation to see the Weasley's until the wedding day, she knew how her friends heart ached for not just George but the whole family, and wanted to make the whole thing as painless as possible.

But now, standing in the empty kitchen the morning of the wedding, the girl wondered how to breathe. She arrived by floo powder, already changed and ready like Hermione had instructed as she was getting ready with her muggle family.

She wasn't sure what she expected but it wasn't the empty, quiet room she was standing in.

She lets out a sigh, blinking back tears, the scent feeling like coming home.

"Sweetie, how are you?" She hadn't even realised Molly had entered the room from the back door until the familiar woman is pulling her into a hug.

"I'm okay, how are you?" she questions as Molly pulls away. If it were anyone else Molly would have rushed away, much too busy with preparations, but it wasn't. Molly loved the kids her children brought home in her life like her own, she missed the girl but understood that she needed space. One look at the tears in her eyes tells Molly that right now she needs to be here.

"I'm good. We are all good," Molly assures, gently guiding the girl to sit. "Now, tell me honestly, how are you?

"I'm just sorry," She admits, voice cracking and tears spilling onto her cheeks. "You must all hate me,"

"Sweetie, no one here hates you, not even for a second. We adore you," she assures, rubbing the girl's shoulder comfortingly

"All of you were always so welcoming and kind and then I just stop speaking to you all. I was so rude and I'm so sorry. Merlin, I didn't even tell you myself I made George do it,"

"None of that. You don't have to be sorry. We are the sorry ones. My son broke your heart and we were all wrapped up in loving you and wanting to be part of your life that we didn't stop to think how hard it would be for you. To be here and to talk to us. You needed to heal, no one is mad at you. We just miss you, and when or if you ever want to come back you will be welcomed with open arms," Molly assures her, grabbing a tissue to dab the girls cheeks dry.

"I missed you so much Molly," she sighs

"I missed you too dear, and I know George misses you,"

"I miss him. Every day I miss him,"

The moment is cut short when Charlie strides in through the front door "Thought I smelt trouble," He beams, wrapping his arms around the girl "Come help me with the daises, Hermione wants like a thousand and Perce is useless,"  He informs, an arm wrapped around her shoulder. She looks almost anxious and he rubs her shoulder gently "He's upstairs with Ron," he whispers gently

"You're welcome to go and speak to him if you'd rather," Molly informs, she wanted her son to be back with the girl more than anything.

"It's okay I'm happy to help,"

"Thank Merlin, I'd strangle Percy if you aren't there to stop me,"

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I’ll miss talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find words to express The way that I wish I was the one But friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

"I saw mum put you to work earlier," George's voice calls through the dark night air. She's sat in the tree house in the garden, the wedding a small distance away.

"I never mind," she shrugs as she watched him climb the ladder, he sits down next to her, legs dangling over the edge next to hers.

"Thought I'd find you here," He comments, he had built the tree house one summer when they couldn't get a minute alone. It was the first summer she spent there, between 4th and 5th year, she fell in love with him in that tree house.

"Just needed a minute," she sighs

"Yeah. It's beautiful but it's kind of a lot,"

"Weddings when you're depressingly single are often a lot," she shrugs, he chuckles at that.

"I have no clue how you are single," He comments, eyes trained on the starry sky above them

"Well, you dumped me so," she teases, a light laugh in her voice. He rolls his eyes, bumping his body to hers, for the first time since the breakup she doesn't move away from his touch. Not wanting to waste the opportunity but also not wanting to push her he settles for pressing his leg next to hers, her foot wraps around his leg holding him close to her without her even noticing, it's second nature, instinctive.

"I'm serious. You're so incredibly kind, and funny, and smart and good in bed," he adds the last one as a joke, laughing when she playfully swats his arm "and I mean, look at you right now, you're like a fucking goddess. You always are. How had no one swept you up?" He questions, and he means every word of it.

"Honestly?" she questions

"Always,"

"They've tried. I mean boys ask me out or try and get with me, but- I- well I never say yes, it's not fair to go on a date with someone when you're in love with someone else,"  She admits, she is staring straight ahead, not looking at him, so she misses the grin that brightens his face.

"That's why Angelina and I decided on friends," he admits, she hums in response not sure what to say. A comfortable silence falls over them, the sound of music from the party the only thing filling the air.

"You wanna dance?"he asks suddenly

"Sure," she agrees, he jumps down from the tree house, it's a little stupid but not unsafe and they've done it a thousand times before. She follows suit and his hands grab her waist to steady her when she stumbles a little in her heels.

He keeps his hands there, pulling her closer to him as hers wrap around his neck.

"Always thought you looked so good in blue," he admits as his thumb strokes her waist, the silky material soft under his grip. "Like a princess," he adds

"Always thought you looked so good in a suit," she grins, blushing a little as he twirls her around

"I miss you," he hums out, pulling her back closer this time, her head resting on his chest.

"I miss you," she returns.

"Y'know I never stopped loving you. Not even for a second. I regret it. More than anything," he's practically whispering and his heart stops when she stills in his arms.

"I can't do this," She whispers, tugging herself from his arms

"Darling-"

"No. George, I love you, more than anything. So I can't. It's your little brother's wedding and you are lonely and you are all mixed up and we haven't seen each other in so long and weddings, merlin weddings, they confuse everything and I can't. I can't do this one last night thing. I'm sorry,"

Before George can reply, can tell her that she's so far from right she's turned around and is speeding back towards the party.

Tell your mom to stop sending me recipes she finds on the internet And when your brother wins homecoming king I won’t be there to witness it And when you find the words to express That you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

She pulls her apartment door open a week after the wedding, surprised to see George Weasley a determined look in his eyes and soaking wet from the rain.

"George,"

"Hi. I need to talk to you," he doesn't seem nervous, he seems like there's a fire in his belly, a determination, a purpose, a need.

"Oh, sure. Come in," She moves aside, letting him in. "The living area is at the end of the hall. I'll go grab a towel," she directs.

He looks around the living area, it's open plan to the kitchen and it's cosy. Full of pictures and little trinkets, it is fundamentally her and his he feels more at home there despite having never been before than he does in his own flat.

She re-enters, throwing a fluffy baby pink towel at George before heading into the kitchen, grabbing an extra mug having been in the process of making tea when he arrived, and fixing them both a tea how they like it.

"So, you wanted to talk?" she prompts, sitting crosslegged on the couch, her fuzzy pjs and messy hair so domestic and beautiful he would marry her on the spot to get to see her like that every day.

"You said that you didn't want to do one last night, well, I don't either. It wasn't wedding goggles making me look at you different. I am in love with you. So, in love with you that being without you makes it hard to breathe and I want you back, not just for a night but for the rest of my life," He thinks he should be nervous but he's not. It's her. He could never be nervous with her.

"George, that makes no sense why would you-"

"Listen, I have never felt good enough for you. The whole time I've known you it was like you were so above me and I could never be on your level, no matter what happened you were always perfect. You were, and are, too good for me,"

"George, I have never been-" she starts but he cuts her off

"I had to help Fred. He is my twin brother, my best friend. He nearly died and I was terrified. He was nearly crushed to death and I realised I could loose him, I could loose anyone I loved. That included you, obviously, and that's how it started. I was scared to be with you because if I lost you I couldn't cope. I couldn't survive. So I started pushing you away. But you. Merlin, you're so good that it didn't matter. I pushed you away and I was wrong to do that but you didn't waver for a second. It was my responsibility to help Fred. To go to physical therapy with him. To hold him when he cried. To be there no matter. I would have done it no matter what. But you. You didn't have to do that. But you did. You didn't complain. You didn't walk away. You helped fix Fred even when I was being crappy to you," He rants

"George, I loved you and I still do. I would have done anything you asked me to, I still would. But I didn't help Fred because of you. I didn't do it for you. Not cause I was too good. I helped Fred because he's been my friend since I was 11. I helped Fred for Fred. Not for you," She explains, George sighs.

"I know. I just was in this state right? I was scared to loose you and you've always been too good for me and I just didn't know what to do. Then, Fred was getting better, and I felt empty. I wanted Fred happy and healthy of course but I'd become so used to spending all my time trying to fix things, trying to keep everyone afloat. It felt like everything stopped. Like no one needed me. I became obsessed with things I could. I couldn't fix you, I couldn't fix us, because nothing needed fixing. You were so perfect for me that I didn't need to fix it. That scared me. The more I thought about it the more I realised if I lost you, no one could fix me, I couldn't loose you but I wasn't good enough for you. It had to be me. My terms. My breakup. It was stupid, but that was I hadn't lost you I'd given you up and that was better," he explains, tears flooding her cheeks as she suddenly understands everything that's been happening for the past months.

"Georgie, you never needed to be scared. I'm not going anywhere, I promise,"

"I know. I'm sorry that I hurt you,"

"George, I love you,"

"I love you darling, more than anything," he smiles

"So another go?" she questions timidly

"If you'll have me," he nods, she grins. Hands shoving his shoulder's back to lay against the sofa, knees on either side of his waist. Her lips touch his for the first time in months and it's like they can breathe again.

They lay side by side in her bed that night, bare skin pressed to each other, holding each other as tightly as humanly possible.

"Can we stay here all day tomorrow? I just wanna lay with you," she speaks tiredly, her head on his chest

"Ron and Hermione get home from the honeymoon tomorrow," George informs, she moves her head to look at him "We have a dinner thing, looking at the wedding pictures too,"he continues

"That'll be nice. You aren't leaving my bed till the very last minute though," she decides

"You should come," he prompts, giving her a squeeze

"You really think your family won't mind?"

"Please, they love you. They'll just be glad to see we are back together,"

"We could be going as friends," She teases, he rolls his eyes

"Not to a family reunion we couldn't. Besides, I have every intention to hold your hand and kiss you the whole night so they'll probably catch on. Aside from Percy, bless him, he's socially inept,"

If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

**

Masterlist

[manonblaqkbeak]

The Reunion

Day 5--I had completely forgotten that I had written this lol. It’s more fluff as usual. Can’t wait to read everyone else’s later on!

Enjoy! :)

1.8k words

Rowan couldn't wait to get home. Today had been...exhausting, to say the least. He was a personal trainer, and with that came the territory that people would talk about their issues while working out. Which was fine, Rowan understood that letting out emotional issues when working out helped people to stay motivated. He himself had been known to rant about his issues when working out himself.

But today had been a lot. One of his regulars had put on weight over the Yulemas holidays and was beating himself up over it. Another regulars marriage was over and was dealing with that guilt.  Someone had lost a favourite aunt. Another one had to break off an engagement because it was a loveless relationship. And on and on the issues piled up.

Rowan was good at compartmentalizing, but after a while, he ignored his lunch break in order to go to the park to just...not think for a while.

Being at the park cheered him up a little, but his break was soon too over. And he was back to work, and that was when the skies decided to open up and pour down buckets of rain. Making a bad day into a shittier one.

His wipers were on the fastest setting and he was driving at a snails pace when he looked away for one second, one fucking second, when he heard a thump and a feminine voice yell out “what the fuck!”

Slamming on the brakes, Rowan came to a speedy conclusion.

He was at a pedestrian crossing and he just hit someone with his car.

He just hit someone with his car.

“Fucking hell!”

Pulling up the handbrake, Rowan got out, not sure what to say or do when he came across a golden haired woman, her eyes spitting out blue and gold fire.

Rowan blinked at her, because despite being covered in rain and sitting on her behind, hand rubbing at her hip, she looked familiar.

But now wasn't the time to thinking about that. He had to see if she was okay. “I'm so sorry,” he got out, “I have no idea what happened. I looked away for a second, that was all. I'm so fucking sorry. Are you okay?”

“My hip and my ass hurt, and I suspect that I'm going to have a wicked bruise, but I think I'm okay,” the stranger said. “You should really watch what you're doing, though.”

“I know. I'm sorry, again.”

The stranger sighed, and even that sounded familiar. “What a fucking day I'm having,” she mumbled.

“Bad day?” He probably made it worse, too. He should also really get her into his car, but she starting ranting before he could do anything about it.

“The fucking worst. I'm facing a deadline that I can't finish, because I'm having dreadful writers block. My landlord is a fucking creep who came to my place today saying that my underwear 'accidentally' got mixed in with his laundry. My cousin's dad recently came back into his life, so now he's angry all the damned time and it's leeching into me. And you just hit me with your car.”

Rowan nodded in understanding, but only could manage to say, “Yeah, your day definitely sucks.”

She glared at him, silently telling him that that wasn't really the best way to respond, but he was having a bad day, also.

Which wasn't an excuse he knew, but Gods, it wasn't really his day either.

Rowan helped her up, her hands warm despite the cold and took her to his passenger seat and pulled over to the side. He couldn't help but notice that she smelled like jasmine and lemon verbena. A calming scent.

“I'm not sure what the protocol is,” he admitted after handing her a hand towel from the glove box. “Do we call the police? Or my insurance? I should take you to the hospital, I know that much.” Even if all she said was that she hurt her behind and hip, it'd be best to ensure that she didn't fracture anything.

When she said nothing after a moment, Rowan turned, noting that the silence from the woman was a little concerning, scared to death that maybe she hit her head and was going into shock.

Her blue-gold eyes were wide. “Are you okay?” he asked again. He really should get her to the hospital.

“Are you...? This is...you couldn't be. Rowan? Rowan Whitethorn?”

Rowan blinked, his concern turning inward. “Yes, that's my name. How did you—?”

“I, uh, it's me. Aelin Ashryver Gala—”

“Galathynius?” He finished for her. She nodded.

They sat in silence as Rowan stared at her, taking in her blue-gold eyes, golden hair, the lemon verbena and jasmine smell of her. Recalling the familiar sigh. All of it.

Rowan wanted to bang his head on the steering wheel when all of it came crashing down on him. He had just hit his high school crush with his car.

Rowan, for whatever reason that he couldn't name, wanted to laugh. He never would have suspected that he would hit Aelin Galathynius with his car ten years after high school graduation.

He was fairly certain that high school him had been in love with her from the moment he saw her. Rowan had wanted to ask her out at least a dozen times, but he was an awkward seventeen year old that didn't know how to talk to women that weren't family members and never gained the courage to do so.

It was one of his biggest regrets from his teenage years.

The last time he had seen her was at the after party of their graduating day. She wore a daisy flower crown and was sparkling in a golden dress. He had never seen someone as beautiful as her—even to this day.

Unbeknownst to Rowan, Aelin had felt the same way. She was confident back then as she was now, but every time she wanted to go up to Rowan to talk to him, to get to know him, the butterflies in her stomach threatened to strangle her.

So she never did ask him out. And here she was now, ten years later, in his car. He was still the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

She was still pissed as hell though that he hit her with his car.

It had only taken a moment, a single moment, for her to realise who it was she was sitting next to. The moment that the hand towel touched her face and she breathed in the pine and snow scent of it, she was transported back to the past.

“How have you been?” Rowan asked her after long minutes. His green eyes still as pretty as the day Aelin saw them. She was sure that was what she loved about him the most all those years ago. Other than Lysandra's, Aelin had never seen such a stunning green.

Aelin snorted, her fond memories disappearing at the inane question. “You were listening when I was ranting, weren't you? My day has been shit.”

Rowan gave her a small smile, and her heart skipped a beat. He still smiled the same. She had liked that about him, too. Still did, apparently.

“No, I mean how's life been since graduation? You mentioned writers block. Are you a writer then?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I write fantasy-adventure-romance novels under the name of Celaena Sardothien.” She had liked the animosity of it all, with none of her books containing a single photograph of her.

“That's amaz—wait. You mean to tell me that you're the writer of the 'Fireheart' series?”

Aelin smiled proudly. “That's me. Have you read them?”

“I have. It's one of my favourite series.” They were his guilty pleasure, really, but it felt rude to say that out loud, as if it was shameful.

Aelin blinked, taken aback at the confession. “Really? You mean to tell me that brooding Rowan Whitethorn reads romance novels?”

Rowan frowned a little bit at that. “I don't brood. Not anymore.”

“You're brooding right now.”

Rowan grumbled. Okay, maybe he was, just a little bit, however.

“How about you, though?” Aelin asked. “How's life been?”

“Busy. And right now, it's a bit shitty. I'm sorry for hitting you with my car, truly. We should get you to a hospital, though. Just to make sure that you're okay, please,” he added, when he saw that she opened her mouth to likely protest. “I won't be able to sleep if it turns out you need a hip replacement or something and I didn't take you to get checked out.”

Aelin truly doubted she would need a hip replacement, but nodded anyway. “Okay, you can take me to the hospital. And then afterwards, I'll give you my number and you can take me out to dinner.”

Rowan blinked at that and then smiled. He had always like confidence in a person. “Okay, it's a date.”

“I've never had a date after a hospital visit.”

“Well, then, I better make it great.”

Aelin smiled, warmth filling her. The day turning out a little nicely, despite it all. “You better.”

x x x x x

As Rowan lead Aelin to the dance floor, he couldn't believe his luck. Never in a thousand years did he think that accidentally hitting Aelin with his car would lead to this.

To their first dance as husband and wife.

It had been exactly one year to the day when he saw her again after ten years. It was very much an Aelin thing to want to have their wedding anniversary to match the date.

The story had been re-told by a slightly tipsy Fenrys as part of his best man speech, about how Rowan would be the only man in the world to meet his future wife by way of a car accident. The story always made people laugh, with people saying that the universe must have wanted to get them together and was sick of them taking too long.

Because as it turned out, when Rowan and Aelin's relationship grew and they learned more about their ten years of life, they were always somehow minutes away from running into each other. From when Rowan was starting his hike in the Southern Continent, Aelin had just finished hers and was going back to her hotel—the very fact that they were staying at the same hotel, but floors apart.

When Rowan had missed out on book tickets to a signing of her third novel in the Fireheart series, and he had to turn around and leave the bookstore since it was a private function just as Aelin was moments away from going on.

From going to the same concerts, to the same festivals, from seemingly everything that they had in common, they had missed each other by minutes.

They silently thanked the universe, even if the way they ran into each other was less than ideal. But they wouldn't change it for the world.

Rowan kissed his wife and thanked his lucky stars.

[honkhonkrichard]

Theory: Stanley Uris was Murdered.

Tagging @vvanini I hope you can follow this okay it’s very word vomity lol

Okay So TW because this post will touch on Stan's death ad the methods behind it

I propose that Stan Uris was murdered. by IT. In his home on that fateful night. I think that Stan posed the biggest threat to IT and therefore IT felt the need to take him out before the battle even started.

Allow me to explain.

Okay, so, I need to lay out some basic "rules" or "facts" before I make my case. They are as follows.

- IT planted it's roots in Derry, and finds it difficult to leave, but still can at it’s own wil.  If you read the book (I honestly don't blame you if you haven't) You'd know that once the Losers kill IT for the final time, Derry (the Physical town) is obliterated. Buildings explode, sinkholes appear, things are flooded. The town is in ruins by the time that the Losers leave the sewers. The movies don't adapt this so If this is news to you thats fine. the bottom line is that destroying IT destroys Derry, like ripping a tree out of the ground with all it's roots. Because of this, we can make the claim that while it can Leave Derry (as it does every 27 years) it probably takes tremandous amount of power to do so, which is why IT only goes when the cycle is over. Why does this matter? Well, what if IT left Derry to get to Stan? The murders had stopped for about a week when they're all in the Jade of the Orient. Plenty of time for IT to cross from Maine to Georgia. Side Note: We KNOW IT leaevs Maine to elsewhere in the world because of King's extended universe all interconnecting. it's not far off at all to make the claim that IT is the same evil that haunts, say The Shining's Overlook Hotel, which is in Colarado.

- IT is omnipresent This is also a given, IT lives everywhere, and can fuck with time and space in godlike (or maybe eldritch like) ways. in IT: Chapter Two, when Mike claims "IT Doesn't know I know what I know" he's unfortunately wrong, because we know that IT can be in A) Multiple places at once, B) can manipulate anything on the drop of a hat (See: Stan being teleported away from everyone else in Chapter One, Everything about Neibolt, etc) and C) Knows everyone's deep fears. This is further proven by IT Saying things like "Beep Beep Richie" (although this is Horribly Horribly executed in the films, ugh.) and so on and so forth. On top of all of this, We can make the claim that IT can exist outside of Time as well, given that IT is immortal. SO, what's stopping IT from Knowing Mike was going to call them all back (Espically considering that IT TOLD Mike to do this?). Even if we keep IT's omnipresence to the location that IT inhabits (in this case Derry) IT would still have knowledge of where the losers are through Mike. And if you take the Lucky Seven/Chosen Seven route (oh my god I got theories on that too) you could argue IT knows where they are inherently due to their cosmic status.

- Stan is the "most Powerful" loser So, obviously all the Loser's are powerful, espically considering they're the ones who Defeat IT (Again going on to the Lucky/Chosen Seven theory). This next claim is going to be less focused on what the 2019/2017 Movies do because they are Bad Movies and that's a whole other rant. However, in the book, Stan is (to my knowledge feel free to correct me on any of this) the only loser to Actively ward off and 'defeat' IT on his own without running away. He uses his belief in this what is Real (birds) to ward off what is "not real" (IT). The other losers do manage to take down IT in their own Right, but Stan is ultimately the one to Really get IT. This is because Stan's character revolves around Belief and Willpower. These are, in some form or another, the ways to Defeat IT. the ritual of Chud is a battle of Wills. in the book, Bill takes IT down and Eddie does the final blow. In the Remake (ugh) the losers can defeat it Technically using the belief that IT isn't as powerful as it claims because IT's "just a clown" (Ihatethatfuckingendingsomuchugh). Stan being much more skeptical than the rest of the group in his ability to understand Reality vs IT's illusions is a powermove, and IT knows that ability doesn't go away as Stan grows up, but rather he gets more powerful. Stan is the Only loser out of the 6 who left that has any sort of knowledge about IT, where the other losers have nothing. Bev has nightmares, yes, but she still forgets them. We're told in his chapter (Chapter 3, Six Phone Calls (1985), Part One: Stanley Uris Takes a Bath) that he has some hazy knowledge of his place in the Lucky Seven, and even goes so far as to MENTION it sometimes, even if he doesn't quite remember or understand any of it, his knowledge of IT and Derry is worlds more prominent than that of the rest of the losers.

(page 52 of IT:  "Stanley, nothing's wrong with your life!"  "I don't mean from inside." he said. "From inside is fine. I'm talking about outside. Something that should be over and isn't. I wake up frmo these dreams and think, 'My whole pleasent life has been nothing but the eye of some storm I don't understand.' I'm afraid. But then it just... fades. The way dreams do." OR  page 45: He had been smiling a little. Now the smile faltered, and for a moment he seemed puzzled. His eyes had darkened, as if he looked inward, consulting some interior device which ticked and whirred correctly but which, ultimately he understood no more than the average man understands the workings of the watch on his wrist. "The turtle couldn't help us," he said suddenly. he said that quite clearly.)

So, Stan has some cosmic knowledge of IT and Maturin and his role in the battle against It. What does any of this have to do with his death? Well, let me point out some other things about Stan's death that always stuck out to me. - His death chapter is narrated by his wife, Patty, rather than himself. The other chapters - almost all the other chapters - are narrated by their respective Loser (the caviot for this is Ben, but Ben is also wasted out of his damn mind so its understandable.) - Stan's personality is few and far between in the book, but we know he has a weird little sense of humour and that he's incredibly logical. I think that this logical part of him would be able to understand that Suicide is Never Ever the answer, and that it would cause FAR more problems than it would solve. (the 2019 movie tries to reexplain his death and it's crap and i hate the letters i hate the letters so much im gonna explode) The other losers try to rationalize his death by saying "He would rather Die Clean than Live Dirty (Page 506, Chapter 10, The Reunion, part 3, 'Ben Hanscom Gets Skinny') but he had already BEEN Dirty when he defeated IT the first time, and I think he would've recognized that. - upon finding him, Patty (in her narration) notes that Stan's head is bent back over the edge of the bathtub, so from his sight she would have been upside down. If Stan DID kill himself, why would he be positioned like that? It's unnatural, like someone Posed him. - the cuts on his arms are two length wise cuts. I'm no expert but.. that's suspicious. That's weird. - IT is written in blood on the wall. Why? Why would Stan right THAT of all things? You know who DOES like to paint with blood? IT.

Alright, returning to my thesis statement, Stanley Uris was murdered. Do I think Stan genuinely was going to take a bath at 7pm (which we're told is weird for him)? Yes. I think that's absolutely a thing he could have done or planned to do. Do I think he slit his wrists and commited suicide so he wouldn't go back to Derry? No. Not even remotely.

Let me paint a New Picture.

It's May 28th, 2016, or 1985. Stanley Uris gets a call from Mike Hanlon. Stan is incredibly hesitant to go to, and says he needs time to think about it. Or tht he'll try. He can feel the starts of a Panic attack, and as he's remembering the circles of Hell he went through as a child, he tries to hold himself together. He doesn't want his darling wife to see his break, so he says "I think I'll take a bath" and nothing else before going upstairs. he hides in the bathroom. He closes and locks the door, because, well, he's panicking. Locking doors is one of The Small things he does. Is it usually the bathroom door? no, but still (OCD is a bitch, and even with medication, but this is a special case). He looks in the mirror and tries to breathe. This is fine. He can do this. They killed IT once before and they can do it again. He thinks about his younger self, the promises made, and how he could explain all of this Patty in time to catch a flight to Maine. It's terrifying, but if his friends are going to bite the dust, he wants to be there with them, wedding vows be Damned. Then he looks at his reflection again. A younger, rotted version of himself stares back at him. IT crawls through the mirror. Stan freaks out, obviously. This isn't real. This Can't be real. But IT utilizes this notion against him. It digs it's claws into his arms, and forces him to bleed out in the bathtub. IT then sets the scene nicely. Razorblades on the counter, a bloody signature on the wall, a horrible posture of Stan's neck. So on and So forth. and then IT returns to Derry. IT's a little weak, yeah, but Stan is dead. That's what matters. the Lucky Seven has now Officially broken, and the balance shifts in favour of the clown.

So that's the theory. feel free to correct me on anything or engage I have plenty of theories on this story and I like discussing this stuff :).

[lunaekalenda]

Can I request a JeanxFem!reader where the reader is super friendly/clingy and isn't conscious of the effects it has on Jean? Like sometimes reader would just grab his hand or hold on to his arm, or even stand in front of him and put his arms around their shoulders? Reader ou does this to Jean bc they're best friends but he will never get used to it bc Jean loves them and is all "asdfghjkl" everytime it happens. But then one day reader stops doing this stuff because someone told her Jean likes them but ONLY bc they look similar to Mikasa, which breaks the Reader's cute lil heart. Angst but fluff at the end please!

hi! of course!! i hope you like it! <3 sorry if i got too fluffy at the end :’)

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❁ jean x female!reader

❁ canonverse

❁ a/n: i didn’t want to make annie like a “villain” but she’s just being really honest with what she thinks about it, she’s not trying to bother her!

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"Jean!" you yell. He smiles at you once he found from where your voice comes, and you run to hug your best friend. His tall body gives you difficulties to reach his neck, but he leans closer to you, his big hands on your waist. His heart flutters happily when he feels your warmth closer to him. 

“How was your training?” he asks. You tangle your arm with his, starting to walk calmly towards the dorms. 

When you entered here, on the military, you wanted to punch him. How he was always feeling superior. You wanted to punch him so bad.

But, after the first battle, where some unlucky friends passed away, he changed abruptly. He understood the pain of the more weak ones, and didn’t vacillate to take risky decisions in due to help the mission. He was made to be a leader, and you two worked hand by hand in the same squad. Thats how, quietly, you started to notice how funny and sweet he is, even when he tries to cover it with his prideful façade. But, since you two got really close, you can even difference what he is feeling, even when he tries so desperately to hide it.

Or so do you think.

One day, when you two were training, Mikasa passed by, following Eren. Jean got his eyes fixed on her black hair.

“You like Mikasa, don’t you?” Connie told him, joking. 

“I-I like her hair, no-o more.” He says. In that times, he was your friend, but you weren’t that close. 

Surprisingly, the more friends you became, the more strange you felt. Why did your heart a flip every time he smiled at you? Why did you felt bad when Mikasa asked something to him?

Maybe you were starting to feel something for him?

“You’re totally into Kirstein.” Petra told you. You enjoyed talking to her, she’s really nice. 

“Shut up, Petra, or else I’ll have to tell you how you look when Capt...”

“Got it!” she interrupted you and you both laughed. It was a quiet afternoon, and you two where sitting on the lake. “I think you should go for him.” she said. 

“He isn’t into me.” you answered. “He likes Mikasa.” Petra looked to the lake.

“Who knows, maybe he does feel the same...”

Petra is really positive, unless you talk about her. Then, she says she has zero opportunities.But, you didn’t want to break your special bond with Jean. That’s why you tried to keep things in a friendship, ignoring your feelings for so long.

“It was fine, yep.” you say. “But I’m hungry.” Your belly confirmes it. He lets out a little laugh.

“Let’s go and eat something first, then.” You smile and, letting go his arm, you tangle your fingers with his, walking with his hand on yours. He blushes a bit. “By the way, tonight we have free time. Do you want to hang?” Today, the Captains of the Squads gave you all free time, celebrating that you all survived another expedition yesterday. 

“Sure.” you pull him softly, his hand caressing yours in an unconscious way while you two walk towards the cantina.

❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁

You feel the cold wind against your skin and wet hair while you walk to the encounter point you agreed with Jean earlier. You found Annie walking back to the dorms.

You and Annie haven’t talked that much, specially since her introverted nature finds your outgoing one terrible.

“Hi, Annie.” you say. She looks at you.

“If you’re searching Jean, he’s talking with Mikasa near Eren’s dorm. Just in case.” She speaks. You maybe looked concerned or down, because she looked at you for a long time. “You know you don’t have opportunities with him, right? He’s not the type of boy to fall in love with.” She says. You look at her back, kinda confused of the words she just said. “He thought he liked you, I’m sure he was confused. But then he realized you look so much like Mikasa, so he just likes the way you look like her. Never thought of it?”

“I do not look like her.” You say. 

“The same black hair that Jean loves. That’s enough for him to remind of her every time he looks at you. She’s out of his league, but maybe you...” Maybe she’s right. After all, he loves Mikasa’s black long hair. She cut it, you still have long hair. But, is all of this the truth? 

“Y/N!” Jean calls you from the place you accorded. Annie waves her hand before disappearing, going back to her dorm.

You walk towards Jean without your usual clingy ways. You walk silently, the sweater hugging your body and your gaze low. Jean is aware of your change of attitude. He gets concerned. What did he do to upset you? Maybe you don’t want to see him again. “Are you okay?” he asks, once you’ve reached him. You nod and fake a smile.

“Annie told me you were talking to Mikasa, so I decided to wait there. I didn’t want to bother.”

“You should had call me, dummy!” he says, colliding his shoulders with yours, playing. “You never bother me, y/n.”

His hazel eyes search any type of reaction on yours, but he only gets your gaze on the floor again. He stops walking and turns you to face him. “Hey, it’s everything okay?” He asks. He has lowered his voice and his tone is way more concerned. You don’t know if his kindness makes you feel good or bad. “Y/N?” He asks again. He just needs to know you’re fine, he needs to hear that nothing happened to you. Maybe, he thinks, you’re just upset with him for some reason he can’t think of. 

“I’m fine.” You’re not. You’ve been binge thinking about what Annie said to you, and you ended believing that maybe that’s true. That you’re just a Mikasa impostor on his heart.

“You’re not fine.” He says. Your skin feels electricity when he holds your hand, trying to avoid you from walking away. He searches your eyes once more, but now, they’re full of tears. His eyebrows move in a worrying expression. “What happened?” He asks. His tone is now sweet, trying to calm you.

“Well, now I know why you always pat my hair.” you say. At the end, the logic Annie followed is totally right, at least in your brain. “It is like touching Mikasa’s, right?”

His expression is now extremely confused. What are you doing bringing up Mikasa in a conversation that has nothing to do with her?

“Mikasa’s?” he asks. You wipe your tears with your hand quickly.

“You liked her when she entered, so probably you keep liking her. And my hair looks exactly like hers. Are you using me?” You ask. Your brain thought all of this in one second, this was kinda messy and you don’t know exactly what is happening. Jean is as confused as you are, he doesn’t know how he made a mistake like that. Make you think he’s in love with Mikasa when he’s in love with you. 

“Listen, Y/N...” he says. This wasn’t the confession scenario he built up in his head, but he needs to clarify things now, before this weird conversation ends with you two ending your friendship. "I did like Mikasa. I liked her when we entered, yes. But it was just a platonic love. We're friends. The point here..."

"I'm your best friend, Jean." you say. "You can tell me if you like her, I'll be okay with that. I gave up on you on any way."

He looks surprised. You liked him? You liked him all this time? As he liked you?

“What?” he asks. “Gave up?”

“I liked you, Jean Kirstein. A lot. My heart was out of my fucking chest every time you hugged me and I couldn’t think straight if your body was behind mine. But you were probably thinking about Mikasa and how beautiful she is...”

“No.” his face is serious when he looks at you. Both of his hands go to your cheeks, taking with his thumbs a couple tears that run fast down to your chin. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” he says. Your teary eyes look at his, searching a joke or something like that, but his eyes are more serious than ever. “I knew it was maybe a one-sided love, because I thought you’ll never be interested in me. Every time you acted clingy, my heart was about to explode of happiness. I feel so good when you’re around me, y/n...” he passes one lock of your hair behind your ear. “I knew i was in love  because I didn’t care it was one-sided, if you were happy, I was happy. That’s why I got so concerned today. Even knowing maybe it was my fault, I couldn’t see you looking sad. I couldn’t. Because I’m still so madly in love with you, I care about you and your well.being so much that I felt the pain of your eyes myself. Sorry for making you feel that way.”

There’s now a silence between you. Jean is probably giving you space to understand all he said, and your brain is having an emergency reunion. He does like you, and you’re still so in love with him... After all, all that happened was because a misunderstanding from you. You feel so silly now...

“Sorry.” you say. “I misunderstood things.”

“But that’s because I never told you clearly what I felt.”

“It’s all my fault.” you try to convince him that he’s wrong, that you were the one confused. “Now I probably lost all the opportunities to be with you and also our friendship.”

“Don’t be that drama queen, dummy.” he says, his voice a low whisper. “I think we just need to honestly tell each other what do we feel now.” He says. 

Telling the other? Telling what?

“I’ll start, then.” he says, “I fell in love with my clingy best friend and I’m still so in love I wouldn’t mind dating her.”

His words made your heart beat faster. After all, where you hiding feelings that were probably reciprocate? 

Probably.

“Come on, don’t be shy!” He laughs sweetly when he sees your blushed cheeks. His thumb makes soft circles on them. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this now, but you’re so fucking pretty...” his gaze gets lost in your face, admiring every single part of it.

“I also still love you, but don’t let your ego raise.” he laughs and so you do. Now, you can look at his face freely, how his hazel eyes have such an intense gaze...

“So, now that this is arranged, why don’t we act as if this never happened and you let me confess in a proper way, hm?”

“Sounds great.”

[imekitty]

Prompt: Vlad and Jack get stuck in an elevator together and thanks to security cameras Vlad can't use his powers to leave nor finally kill Jack. Tensions rise thanks to Jack's happy and oblivious attitude causing Vlad to explode at him and spill everything he's bottled up the last 20 years

I can't promise this is good.

-----

Vlad checked his watch as the elevator he was in began its descent. Only three o’clock, still plenty of daylight left for his other errands.

The elevator stopped and opened. Vlad walked out but froze when he caught sight of someone in the lobby, someone huge and tall and wearing an orange jumpsuit.

Shit.

Vlad walked back into the elevator.

“Vladdy! Hey!” yelled Jack behind him.

Vlad pretended not to hear him and pressed the button for the highest floor. Maybe he would just fly out of the building once he lost Jack.

“Hey, hold that for me, V-man!”

Jack was moving quicker in his direction now. Vlad jabbed the “close doors” button and watched the doors glide toward each other.

Jack began running. Vlad watched the doors close, almost, almost—

Jack’s massive gloved hand jammed between the doors. With a grunt, he forcibly pushed one of the doors back, metal scratching against metal. Vlad narrowed his eyes.

The elevator shuddered as Jack stepped inside. Vlad gave him a perfunctory smile.

“That was close,” said Jack. “Almost didn’t make it.”

“How unfortunate that would’ve been,” said Vlad through his teeth.

“Oh, can you press 3 for me, Vladdy?”

Jack beamed at him with that stupid oblivious grin he always wore. Vlad pushed 3 and also 2 for himself. The elevator doors did not close. Vlad pressed the “close doors” button. After another pause, the doors closed with an unpleasant grinding noise.

“So what are you doing here?” Jack held up a packet of papers. “I just need to get some things notarized at the bank here.”

“I’m here for meetings,” said Vlad, trying to sound cheerful.

“Yeah? Mayoral meetings?”

“Oh, I won’t bore you with the details.”

The elevator began moving up.

“Well, Mads and I are both really proud of all the great things you’re doing for our town.”

Jack grinned again. Vlad did not doubt his sincerity.

“So you’re here on your own?” asked Vlad. “Maddie did not join you?”

“No, she asked me to—”

The elevator shook and lurched up a couple feet before jolting to a stop. Vlad felt his balance shift as his legs stumbled. Jack grabbed hold of his arm.

“I got you, V-man. You good?”

Vlad wrenched his arm free and stood tall, straightening his tie. “I’m fine.”

Jack looked around at the walls surrounding them. “The elevator’s stopped.”

“It has indeed,” said Vlad.

Jack pressed a few buttons on the control panel. Nothing responded, no movement. “Definitely stuck.”

“Seems that way.”

“But someone will fix it soon.” Jack nodded. “We’ll be out of here in no time.”

Vlad looked up at the camera in the corner of the room and sighed. Even if Jack weren’t here, he wouldn’t be able to phase out. Not without finding where the security footage was kept and destroying it.

“I’m thankfully not in a rush. I’ve got plenty of time to get this done.” Jack stretched out his arms. “But what about your meetings? Are you gonna be late?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Vlad shook his head. “No, it’ll be fine.”

“I guess the mayor is allowed to be late for whatever he wants, huh?”

Vlad forced a curt half smile.

“But maybe we can call the front desk and ask if they’re getting someone to fix it.” Jack pulled out his phone and tapped the screen before raising the phone to his ear. “Hi there, we are in your elevator and it seems to be stuck. It’s not going anywhere. Do you have someone to fix it? Yeah? All right, well, we’ll just wait here, then.” Jack ended the call. “They’ve called maintenance. They should have us moving in a jiffy.”

“Good to hear,” said Vlad.

“So.” Jack switched his packet of papers from one arm to the other. “What should we do?”

“Do? What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, I said they’d have us moving in a jiffy, but I was exaggerating.”

“Really? Were you now?”

“Yeah! So we’ve got some time to kill. This is a good chance for us to talk!”

“Talk?”

“Yeah!”

Vlad looked from one side of the elevator to the other. “Talk about what?”

“Anything! We don’t really get to talk anymore. I miss our college days, don’t you?”

“Do I?” muttered Vlad.

“Back when we used to goof around, crash frat parties.”

“I think it was you doing most of the goofing around. And we had to crash them because we were never invited.”

“Yeah, and I never understood why. We were so cool!”

“It was probably due to your incessant blathering about ghosts.”

“Ah, yeah.” Jack looked at the ceiling and smiled. “I really miss when we used to stay up late at the university lab. Like when we worked on that proto-portal. Remember that? Weren’t those fun times?”

Vlad shook his head. “No, actually. I don’t miss that at all.”

The two fell quiet for a moment.

“You know.” Jack flicked through the documents in his hands with a thumb. “You never told us what happened exactly.”

“What do you mean?” asked Vlad, weary.

“With the proto-portal. When it zapped you in the face?”

“Oh. That.” Vlad shrugged. “What about it?”

“Well, I mean, what happened with that?”

“It zapped me in the face, like you said. You were there. You saw.”

“Yeah, I know, but what happened after that?” Jack frowned. “Maddie and I never heard from you again. Not until the college reunion a couple years ago.”

“I was a little busy being hospitalized and nearly dying,” said Vlad dully.

“Yeah, we heard,” said Jack. “And we tried to get in touch with you, but we couldn’t find which hospital you were at.”

“I didn’t want anyone to find me.”

“But even us? Even me?”

“Especially you.”

Jack’s frown deepened. “But we were best friends, weren’t we?”

“I might’ve described us that way in the past, yes.”

“What does that mean?”

Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

“I was really worried about you, Vlad.”

“Worried?” Vlad scoffed. “Really?”

“Of course I was. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You weren’t worried about making sure you put ecto-purifier and not diet soda in the proto-portal’s filtration system,” said Vlad. “You weren’t worried about making sure I was out of the way before turning it on.”

Jack sucked his teeth. “Yeah, I was a little trigger happy, but I was just excited. Weren’t you?”

“I was not excited about getting blasted in the face with soda-infused ectoplasmic energy that burrowed in my skin and tore it up, no.”

“Was it really that bad?”

Vlad folded his arms. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

Jack nodded. “Okay. Well, maybe we can get coffee sometime or meet somewhere more comfortable—”

“No, I mean I don’t want to talk about this with you. Ever.”

“But why—”

“Because it was your fault!”

Jack shrank away from him.

“You were careless and selfish and destroyed my life,” roared Vlad. “I was in horrific pain and everyone who saw me stared at me like I was some freak. And I almost died. I wanted to die sometimes. Couldn’t even look at myself in a mirror.”

Jack tightened his hold on his documents and looked down at the floor.

“You never think before you do anything. You’re reckless and oafish and that hasn’t changed at all.” Vlad thrust his hand toward the elevator door. “Just look at what you did to the elevator!”

Jack looked at the door. “I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did,” spat Vlad. “You forced the door open and now it’s broken and we’re stuck in here. Because that’s what you do, you destroy and ruin things for other people.”

“But I didn’t want to miss seeing you.” Jack’s voice had a small whine. “I don’t get to see you enough, Vladdy.”

“Right, of course. You were thinking about yourself again. You broke the elevator because you wanted to see me. Just like you zapped me in the face because you didn’t want to wait any longer to try out the proto-portal.”

“Vladdy, please—”

“Don’t call me that. We’re adults now.” Vlad paused. “Or at least I am.”

He looked up at the camera and pursed his lips. With his arms folded, he clenched his fists, knuckles cracking.

Jack did not speak for some time. Vlad could only hope he would keep shut up until the elevator started working again.

“I am sorry, you know.”

Vlad rolled his eyes. Of course he couldn’t possibly expect Jack to stay quiet for long.

“I really didn’t know that would happen,” said Jack. “I didn’t even see what happened to you until it was too late.”

Vlad scoffed.

“I just thought we were on the brink of something incredible,” said Jack. “And I didn’t want to wait anymore.”

Vlad lowered his gaze to the floor.

“We were on the brink of something incredible,” he said softly. “I wanted it as well.”

Jack side-eyed him but Vlad kept his head down.

“And I suppose…” Vlad shrugged. “I know I couldn’t have done it on my own. Not without you. And Maddie. Probably more so without Maddie.”

Jack hummed amusement but said nothing.

“But you were the one who got me into all this,” said Vlad. “Ghosts, I mean.”

Vlad recalled Jack’s nonstop yammering about ghosts that kept him up at night when he really needed to be doing his homework instead. Yammering that at first annoyed him but began intriguing him, challenging what he thought he knew, pulling him into a new direction to explore the supernatural.

And allowing him to meet the first woman in a long time who had actually smiled at him. A woman he would have followed anywhere, into the Ghost Zone and wherever else she wanted to go.

“None of what I have now would’ve happened without you,” said Vlad. “Not that I’m about to thank you for any of it.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me either,” said Jack.

“And I don’t,” said Vlad. He blew out a sharp puff past his lips. “But at least things turned out almost okay for me.”

“Almost?” said Jack. “What isn’t okay for you now? Something I can help with?”

Vlad wondered what Maddie was doing right at that moment. How he wished he could have gotten stuck in this elevator with her instead.

“No,” said Vlad.

The elevator shook and restarted its ascent. Jack grinned up at the ceiling.

“Hey, they fixed it!” he exclaimed.

Vlad also looked up but said nothing.

The elevator doors opened. Vlad had no idea what floor it was but knew he was getting off anyway. He stepped past the threshold.

“Vlad. Hey.” Jack stepped out with him.

“The bank isn’t on this floor,” said Vlad curtly.

“Yeah, I know,” said Jack as the elevator doors closed behind them. “I think I’m gonna take the stairs the rest of the way.”

Vlad raised his brows before huffing and shaking his head. “I have things to do.” He started walking away.

“Vlad.”

Vlad turned back to him. “What is it, Jack?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “You have my number, right? If you ever want to talk about anything. Maybe whatever it is that isn’t okay for you right now.”

Vlad chewed the inside of his cheek and crossed his arms, remembering the failed hits he had put on Jack, how the only thing that kept him from killing Jack in that elevator was a surveillance camera.

“You really still think of me as a friend, don’t you?” said Vlad.

Jack blinked. “Well. Yeah. Don’t you?”

Vlad studied his face for several long seconds before smiling.

“Of course,” said Vlad.

Jack smiled back, looking relieved. Vlad’s facial muscles cramped as he kept up his own smile.

“Please give my best to your lovely wife,” said Vlad. “I really must go now.”

He turned and walked away at a brisk pace, balling a fist against his chest out of Jack’s sight.

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Gn!reader comforting dante after a nightmare please?

Can you say: 'angst?' 😅 I hope you enjoy

(Cw just in case: angst, emotional distress, dmc 1 trauma)

Things have been...uneasy for Dante since his last job. 

He wouldn't talk about it, which wasn't exactly new to you, but ever since you and Lady returned to Capulet after a job that yourselves took that had you out of the area for a few weeks and you came back to the shop to find evidence the the place had been sacked and everything from the dusty busted up couch to the old desk that had been sitting in the same spot for a decade tossed around and broken, pieces scattered across the shop also not to mention there looked to be a fire at some point with how there were now charred marks on the floor and walls. When asked by Lady what the hell had happened his answer was simple, cold and dead: "Job." 

After you guys worked to clean the place up, as if you could physically feel the tension growing and growing from the man as he sat there on the only unbroken piece of furniture in the whole office, his chair, staring dead silent at the picture of his mother nicely propped next to him on the ground. The subject was quickly dropped.

It wasn't long before Dante's attitude came back to him, with his shiny new desk he could prop his feet onto and new array of furniture that you convinced Lady to go help you buy with your cut of the money from your job together filled his shop, things felt like they went back to how they were before. You and Lady were taking in the jobs that came in while Dante declared himself on 'vacation' that mainly consisted of him sitting at his desk with a magazine over his eyes - not that you minded, you just appreciated he was actually taking time to rest, but it wasn't long before what truly happened on that last job needed to be addressed again. 

You were in the kitchen making a cup of coffee while looking through the mail, going through all the normal things you expect to see when getting the mail; bills, sales ads, and even more bills. However one important thing you do see and one you've been seeing for quite some time now was postcards addressing Dante. Now in all your time you've known the son of Sparda you have never once gotten postcards from anyone and they were all signed with a woman's name you did not recognize; Trish. Now you never really read what neatly scrawled onto the back out of respect for privacy, but you trusted your boyfriend and every time they came in you politely gave them to him for he looked them over and put them in a drawer in his desk. 

You take a sip of your might of coffee before gathering up the postcard and bills into your hand and aim to drop them off at Dante's desk so he can look them over when he wakes up from his scheduled magazine nap of the day. A loud hellish crackle throughout the air and slam onto wooden flooring makes you drop the papers in your hands instead of the relative easy pace you usually take to come out from the kitchen and into the office you're quickly up to arms grabbing your gun from the kitchen table and ready to fire at any demonic threat the moment you bash through the door but instead your met with Dante in devil trigger on the floor fallen out of his chair, desperately clutching at his face. You waste no time running over and dropping to the ground next to him. 

"You alright?" 

You go in to touch him only for clawed fingers to push you away, taking you back a little but you shake off and apologize. He shakes his head as he finally does speak, his voice distorted but you can still hear the human shakiness in it. 

"No, I'm good. Just a dream - just a dream." The way he spoke sounded more like he was telling himself that more than he was reassuring you. 

He closes his eyes and quickly fazes out of his demon form, the human one flashing before you. Now you can see the sweat drenching his face that causes his hair to stick to his forehead. 

Now you've had deal with Dante having nightmares before, the ones about his mother and brother and how he blames himself for...everything that happened to them, main one you've heard from him is if he had just let Vergil read that damn book instead of bugging him to play that they might still all be together today. 

Words swell in your throat as you watch him go get himself back up, white hair slipping over to curtain your view of his eyes as he stood to his feet and plumped onto his desk. Your eyes sadden as you watch him as he wipes a gloved hand over his face to clean off of the sweat clinging to his flesh until it's all visibly gone but soon he stills and keeps his face covered leather clad talons digging into his own temples until there's a point you swear you can see blood - his whole then body seems to just…lax. In such a still stone fashion as it becomes unnerving to watch. 

It's a few moments of heavy tension filled silence before either of you speak again but when it does it's actually Dante to be the one to speak, the statue unstones as he just seems to light with life with the exact moment the mask of facade slips on. 

"You hungry? Because I'm starving and you know what they say? You're not you when you're hungry or some bullshit right? I'll get us a pizza." 

How he turns and picks up the phone like it was just like it was any other conversation and nothing even happened is heartbreaking. He goes to press in Fredi's number that he knows by heart but is immediately stopped by you as you jump up and slam your hand on top of his and crash the phone back into the receiver, your voice cuts out any bullshit that the son of Sparda could have possibly pull out of his ass as you look him directly into his eyes and call him out by his name, your tone soft yet abrupt and bluntly straightforward. He wasn't going to bluff out and run away from this, no matter how much he wanted to you wouldn't let him. 

You stand right in front of him, in between his legs and making direct eye contact with him, Dante shutters out a breath as his churning gut begins to shake his core less and less as he focuses on the touch on his hand, how warm yours is as it comfortably squeezes his and makes him more aware of himself. Had he really been shaking this entire time? 

Your expression softens the more and more that you look at him until eventually he lets you snake an arm that isn't holding his hand around him and just feel as he seems to just melt against you. 

The two of you say that way for a while, he buries his face into your neck/chest and lets you comb and pet your fingers through his hair. You collect your thoughts before pushing him back slightly and raise his chin up to meet your gaze. 

"You don't have to talk about it, Dante. But I'm not letting you just pretend like everything's fine when both you and I know clearly that isn't the case. Bottling in all those complex feelings isn't good for anyone, even, and especially for someone as strong as you who's been through so damn much for far too long. Just...hold onto me, okay? For as long as you want, anything you need. And if you do want to talk about it-" Your voice carries off. "-I'll always be here to listen."

He takes in your word, conflicted. His eyes flickered over to stare at the wooden flooring and you can actually see him go through and argue with his own thoughts before he looks back to you, opening his mouth with an airy pause before letting out a sigh. 

He tells you everything, in full detail, everything about his last job. 

From Mundus' resurrection plan on Mallet Island, to answering a few of your earlier questions about that woman from the postcards - Trish a demon Mundus made in identical image of Dante's mother, the trails he faced all over the island leading him into hell itself to defeat Mundus, and most notably, his reunion with his brother after almost ten years - who from what you understood was barely a shadow of his former arrogant self; corrupt, brainwashed, broken. How he fought him, he killed him with his own hands. How maybe none of this would've happened if he just let him read that damn book or if he just had grabbed and yanked his ass and stopped his descent into the further depths of hell, what turned him into...who he fought. 

It's hard to listen to him as he spills out every single unheld back dark thought of his, but you let him finish no matter how much it hurts or terrifies you, you let him finish until he's out of words and practically sobbing into your arms, then you only hold onto him tighter. 

He looks visibly tired by the time he recollects himself, he apologizes for it but you shake your head and hold the sides of his face and remain quiet only pressing a soft kiss to his lips before telling him how much you love him and how proud you are that he managed to tell you what he did. Talking through it is the first step to healing and all. He hums as he rests his head onto you and holds you close, succumbing to the feeling in his chest and closing his eyes for just for a little while, even though he knows he shouldn't sleep just sitting at his desk with you just standing there with how long you've been like this your feet are most like tired, but he absorbs every little touch you make as he slowly lulls away.

This was was from over, both he and you knew that, wounds and events are still fresh in his mind and it would still be a few years until he goes through the worst of it (*cough cough* there's still dmc 2 era to go through *cough cough*) but even when he's through his worse - but Dante's glad that he can feel at least a small bit of solace in the comfort in your arms. 

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[forasecondtherewedwon]

Dolls’ Eyes — A Jaws AU

Pairings: established Peggy/Steve, developing Brunnhilde/Carol Rating: T Chapters: 14/14

Summary: Tony Stark snapped his fingers and the vanished half of the universe returned, but Thanos escaped the battlefield, fleeing into space. Now that he’s virtually powerless, most of the Avengers consider chasing him all over the universe a waste of resources, but Peggy Carter—newly deposited in the 21st century—is determined to finish the job. Brunnhilde and Carol Danvers have the same idea.

When scattered rumours of fresh killings escalate to the death of one of their own, the three women team up to defeat Thanos once and for all.

read the prologue

read ch. 1 one / 2 two / 3 three / 4 four / 5 five 6 six / 7 seven / 8 eight / 9 nine / 10 ten 11 eleven / 12 twelve / 13 thirteen / 14 fourteen

After everything, Carol wasn’t surprised that Brunnhilde put up a fight over being told to just rest. Carol reminded her that she was lucky to be alive, to which Brunnhilde responded that it wasn’t anything like luck, and went on to list the incredible, lifesaving properties of her fine armour, explain the enhanced durability provided by her Asgardian biology, and enumerate all of the injuries she’d previously sustained that were apparently worse than being electrocuted half to death, and then nearly drowning while incapacitated. Carol didn’t believe half of it, but it was kinda hot when Brunnhilde bragged.

So, in spite of Carol’s efforts, Brunnhilde kept getting up the second her back was turned in order to haul bodies off of Thanos’s ship. As they started to fix everything Carol had broken (including a patch job of that hole in the roof), a scan of the local environment informed them that almost all of the life on this planet was aquatic. They left the stack of corpses on land. Whatever water critters were around, they didn’t need toxic eyeball goo leeching into their habitat.

Carol caught Brunnhilde shaking out a twitching arm and made her sit to do electronic repairs rather than manual labour. (Carol had that handled anyway, plus, she knew where all the bodies were because she was the one who’d left them there.) Brunnhilde protested that she was the captain. Carol came way too close to saying not of this ship, but stopped herself. Instead, she suggested Brunnhilde do like any other captain would and let her underlings take on the grunt work. That got a smile, if not verbal agreement.

Thankfully, Peggy was a fast learner; Carol explained the basics of what she’d done to wreck something and Peggy quickly understood how to walk back the damage. They worked their way through the ship, staying at neighbouring stations so Carol would be there if Peggy had questions, and Peggy would be there if (when) Carol had messed something up so badly that it needed four hands to fix.

“Maria would��ve been great with this,” she said without thinking, holding up a fistful of wires while Peggy tinkered beneath.

“Maria?”

It was easier to talk about her than it had ever been before. Like with the repairs, she could tell that Peggy understood without Carol having to do much more than gush over how good Maria had been at fixing stuff, how thorough she’d been with the plane she’d kept in the hangar on her property, how reliable, how trustworthy, how patient…

“Yes,” Peggy told her with a smile. “She sounds like she was wonderful.”

“She was.”

But when the two of them had finished their circuit of the ship and Carol went to tell Brunnhilde they were good to go, she wasn’t there. Carol panicked, worried that Brunnhilde had overheard all her praise of Maria and somehow missed the tone of a person who was in the late stages of grief, who had accepted the worst and was keen to keep living, maybe even loving.

When she couldn’t find her on the ship, she jogged down the ramp, intending to look for her outside. The second she turned to face the water, she spotted Brunnhilde coming towards her from the escape vessel. Carol ran out to meet her.

“What’s all this?” she asked in a tone of amusement, because Brunnhilde had her arms full.

“Food, Peggy’s jacket, a couple beers that didn’t get smashed when Thanos rammed us, uh…” She tried to examine the rest of the pile she was carrying, but it teetered and slipped; laughing, Carol scooped a few things out of her arms before they could end up in the shallow water.

“I thought you might’ve taken off on us,” she said lightly.

“I didn’t think you thought I’d be capable of that after getting zapped.”

“I was just…”

Brunnhilde walked close, pressing her arm into Carol’s.

“I know. I would’ve been the same way if it’d been you.”

“I don’t even know if I can get electrocuted,” Carol said.

“I’m not gonna recommend trying it for fun,” Brunnhilde told her. “Anyway, I used all my discs on Thanos and I dropped the remote in the water somewhere… You’d have to go to Thor with your request, ask him to bring the lightning down.”

“Straight to Thor?!” Carol laughed. “That seems a little extreme.”

“Or you could just stand around outside in New Asgard during a storm and wait for it to happen naturally.”

“And why would I need to be in New Asgard specifically?” Carol asked in a teasing voice. “I could get struck by lightning anywhere.”

She watched Brunnhilde flounder but couldn’t get an answer out of her, not on the way to the ship, not while she was distracted with Peggy asking her a slew of health questions, and not while they were trying to figure out how to get this humongous spaceship off the ground with a crew of only three people.

As they made their rocky assent, Carol was too busy to wonder whether Brunnhilde had heard her talking about Maria before she’d left the ship to scavenge from the escape craft. They had just broken through the atmosphere, blue sky giving way to black, when Brunnhilde spoke.

“Love’s like war.”

It was so sudden that Carol snorted a laugh.

“Ok, poet,” she said. She was tempted to devote some time to getting Thanos’s ship to play her music, if only to put on ‘Love Is a Battlefield’ for Brunnhilde. To let her know what had been said on the subject already.

She smirked to herself when Brunnhilde continued, clearly not giving a shit about her interruption or joking criticism.

“It is.”

“What do you mean?” Carol asked more seriously.

Brunnhilde shifted in her seat, engaging different protocols for outer space travel. Carol noticed the tremor had gone from her arm.

“You do better in both because of experience,” Brunnhilde said, looking straight out the viewport. “Anybody who can’t appreciate the benefit of falling for someone who’s been in love before is a fucking idiot.”

“And you’re not a fucking idiot.”

“I hope that isn’t a question.”

Carol smiled and shook her head. They flew in silence for a while.

“When we get back,” she said eventually, peering shyly over at her captain, “I owe someone important to me a visit, but then I’m coming to see you. Just a heads-up.”

“Vaguely threatening.”

“Sorry.”

“No,” Brunnhilde told her, grabbing her forearm to get her full attention, “I liked it.”

Heat raced up Carol’s neck until she was blushing as bright red as her suit, or the dumb acid burn on her arm.

Just then, Peggy’s agitated voice came from the other end of the wide flight deck.

“Someone’s coming right at us!”

Before Carol had the chance to say what the hell? or who? or again?, an incoming message threw a distantly familiar face up in front of them, hovering in the form of a hologram.

“Hey,” Carol greeted. “Small universe.”

—

Peggy had never thought to imagine what Gamora might be like. She’d had an account of Peter Quill’s affection for her from Rocket, but had recognized that a portrayal of the woman that crew had known—the woman Peter had loved enough to forfeit his life in the quest for reunion—couldn’t be fully accurate. At best, the Gamora they described would be one layer removed from the real person. The Gamora they had known and the one whose hologram had just appeared before Peggy, Carol, and Brunnhilde were a handful of years and a thousand experiences apart.

It seemed absurd to Peggy that this woman may wish to harm them, but she really ought to have considered it.

“Was it your distress signal I picked up?” Gamora asked flatly, eyes locked on Carol in the pilot’s seat.

“Umm… yep.”

“And you still require assistance?”

Carol glanced at Brunnhilde, then over to Peggy, who nodded. They certainly had worked wonders, she felt, in getting this massive spaceship off the planet, but who knew how many things could go wrong between here and Earth? Peggy doubted either of her shipmates had told her the half of it. They were simply short-staffed, too few fingers available to plug any metaphorical leaks they might spring on the journey.

“Yes please,” Carol told her.

With a nod, 2014 Gamora went from unknown quantity to ally. Peggy sighed in relief.

The three of them were transported directly from Thanos’s ship to Gamora’s. The process was quite indescribable, Peggy thought. Tingly, quick, with a bit of a lurch as she rematerialized on an entirely different flight deck from the one she’d just left. Had the transfer been instantaneous? Had she, perhaps, ceased to exist for a moment or two? She was full of questions but unsure to whom she should direct them.

Gamora, while welcoming in deed, was somewhat inscrutable when they met her face-to-face. Standoffish. Unsure of herself, Peggy realized. Immediately, she warmed to the woman. She had been in her place herself once, sort of, if not precisely in her intimidating boots. It hadn’t been so long ago that she’d been ferried through time to find the world completely changed. What Gamora needed was a reason to trust them the way they were trusting her.

“I take it you killed my father?” Gamora asked plainly once they were aboard.

Oh dear. It seemed they weren’t off to a very auspicious start.

Brunnhilde stepped in front of Carol, who’d just been opening her mouth to speak, presumably to claim responsibility.

“I was the captain,” she stated. “Thanos was killed on my orders.”

“Uh, no, not explicitly,” Carol argued.

“Anyway,” Peggy piped up, “I’m the one who shot him in the head.”

“And he was only vulnerable to that because I electrocuted him to within an inch of his despicable life and his helmet fell off,” Brunnhilde countered.

“On a planet I flew us to,” Carol reminded them.

“We’ll be sharing the blame,” Peggy informed Gamora on behalf of her crewmates.

Gamora cocked her head consideringly.

“And if it’s approval?” To their universal silence, she explained, “I know what he was capable of in my time, and I saw enough of Earth to get a general idea of what he was set to accomplish if he wasn’t stopped.”

“Were you out here hunting him too?” Peggy took a step towards her.

Directing her gaze away from them, Gamora blinked rapidly, looking momentarily confused and upset. In the next second, she’d hidden any outward hint of those feelings.

“I should’ve been,” she said, “but I’ve never been able to stand up to him like I should have. After I left your planet… for a while, I wasn’t looking for him. But I began to see signs. And then Peter Quill came.”

“Peter!” Carol said. “You saw him? Did you talk to him? Rocket never said—”

“No. I just watched. I followed him for a while. I knew he was looking for me. He was so… loud.” Gamora made a face. “Leaving word for me everywhere, telling traders and transports that he was my boyfriend. He was an idiot, but an entertaining idiot… I barely noticed that I’d stopped keeping track of Thanos until he just showed up…

“I was a coward,” Gamora went on. “I saw my father intercept Peter’s ship and I knew what would probably happen, but I couldn’t put myself between the two of them. Was I supposed to stand up for this guy when I’d never been able to stand up for myself? I was raised to be cruel, to think of myself, that attachments formed to accomplish anything but the acquisition of power make you weak. I know Thanos killed Peter. It’s my fault he’s dead.”

Peggy stood in front of her, refraining from placing a reassuring hand on Gamora’s shoulder when she gave her cagey eyes.

“It’s not,” Peggy told her firmly.

“I only heard your distress signal because I heard Peter’s first,” Gamora said. “I went onboard after my father had left; it was days before I could force myself to do it, maybe longer. I used his communications system to speak to his crewmates on Earth.”

“You must’ve just missed us leaving,” Brunnhilde said.

“That’s what he told me. He said three more morons had left the planet, on their way to hunt down Thanos.”

“And you’ve helped us,” Peggy said, tone insistent. “If you do feel any responsibility for what happened to Peter, then surely you should also believe that you’ve redeemed yourself by saving our backsides.”

Gamora’s eyes squinted as though she were in pain.

“I owed him more than this and I hate it,” she said, jaw clenched. “He was no one to me. He knew someone I’m never going to become.”

“Shhh. I know,” Peggy said soothingly.

“I don’t see how that’s possible. Have you ever had someone tell you they love you when it feels like it’s impossible that they even know you? That whoever they loved had to be a different person from who you are?”

Peggy’s shoulders fell. She could feel the bittersweet smile on her face.

“Actually, yes.”

Gamora appeared surprised to have been brought up short in such a manner.

“Do you have any advice?” Peggy urged softly.

For a minute, Gamora was quiet, staring hard at the wall. Peggy could feel that the others had backed away, giving them time and space when Gamora’s stream of information had been diverted by the confusing grief she was obviously experiencing.

“Whatever lengths he goes to because he thinks you’re better than you are…” Gamora finally said, turning her head to look Peggy in the eye. “Try to be worth it.”

“Got it.”

Peggy folded her hands together, pressing her right palm to her wedding ring.

—

They were about to get underway, their new crew of four on a significantly smaller, though sleeker, ship. (Brunnhilde didn’t mourn for the one they’d left in the shallows; it had served them well, first the Asgardians and now the team responsible for the death of Thanos.) However, staring out the viewport from the seat in which she’d been installed as the effective second-in-command, Brunnhilde didn’t feel right. The sight of Thanos’s ship just hanging there in space unnerved her. It would be better if no trace of the Titan remained.

“Let’s blast it,” she suggested to the deck at large.

“Thanos’s spaceship?” Peggy checked.

“Yes.”

“Well,” Carol said, “we aren’t near anything. There’s nothing for the debris to hit…”

Brunnhilde smiled slightly and looked to the captain.

“Gamora? Do you have any weapons on this ship that could do the job?”

“There is one thing I’ve been saving for a special occasion,” Gamora said, gaze fixed on Thanos’s ship. “First, we’re going to need to get clear.”

She piloted them away—away from the planet, away from the ship. Part of Brunnhilde wanted to request the honour of launching the torpedo Gamora was setting the coordinates for, locking it onto her late father’s final vessel, but she was already satisfied with the role she’d played. Let Gamora take this final, symbolic step. It was like Thor’s hideous couch; Brunnhilde had helped him lug the thing into the open air, but permitted him to drop the match (once she’d soaked the cushions in lighter fluid, just in case it wasn’t sufficiently saturated in spilled beer). She would content herself with watching it go up in flames.

And it did. It was an impressive explosion, scattering wreckage in a wide perimeter Gamora had kept them outside of. They were briefly silent as jagged hunks of metal twisted in the void.

“That’s one way to get the stink of dead bodies out,” Carol noted, and Brunnhilde turned to her, shoulders shaking with laughter Carol quickly joined in on.

They flew for some time, and it was good just to relax, to stretch in her seat and tilt her head from side to side so that her neck cracked horrendously and Peggy said things like “good lord!” while Carol laughed her ass off. Brunnhilde remained alert though. She couldn’t help it. In the old days, with the Valkyrie, there’d been a certain relief when the battle in which they’d been engaged was done, but they’d only known true rest once they’d returned to Asgard. Home. The last time she’d been on a ship bound for Earth, the atmosphere had been one of intense grief, muffled weeping in the corridors. They’d known Earth as Midgard and had little admiration for its country of Norway, chilly with fog and swathed in the bleak colours that reflected their inner emptiness. Nothing they loved was there—not their people, not their gleaming towers and soaring statues. How could it ever possibly feel like coming home?

Brunnhilde had honestly believed she’d lost her ability to experience that feeling, that, without her sisters-in-arms, the sensation was lost to her. Yet, despite the tension she still carried from the fight, she felt it easing. She felt herself longing for home, her little house at the water’s edge. For the chance to return to her people as their king and announce a great evil defeated. Maybe this tension was only anticipation after all.

In contrast to the fruits of her own contemplation and revelation, Gamora’s private thoughts had left her expression mournful and roving. Brunnhilde exited the deck to relieve herself and find something to eat in Gamora’s stores, and when she returned, she addressed her.

“You’re not taking us all the way to Earth, are you?”

Gamora flicked her gaze sideways to assess her. Brunnhilde knew there was no judgement to be found in her face, so she stared back calmly.

“I’m taking you to Quill’s ship. Thanos, in his infinite arrogance, didn’t damage it. Maybe he thought he might like to return to it some time and claim it as part of his fleet. It’s a tribute to how much I continue to feel my father’s influence that I planned to do the same. Not build a fleet, but go back. There’s something about that ship… I find it comforting.”

Brunnhilde frowned thoughtfully.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take it and leave this one for us?”

“No. What I felt when I was onboard, examining it and… and removing Quill’s body for space burial… that was just a feeling of, I don’t know, another life. There’s a group on Earth for whom that ship means something. And it’s the only thing they have of him. I couldn’t keep it.”

“One of those people is your sister,” Brunnhilde said carefully.

“Yes.”

“I tried to talk to her, but she doesn’t like me very much. I don’t blame her,” she added as Gamora gave her a wary look. “She was upset.”

“Nebula is at her most dangerous when upset, and she’s always upset, so she’s always dangerous.”

“She was upset about Peter’s death. But I think also because, without him, no one was out here looking for you.”

Gamora stiffened.

“If she really wants to find me, she can come look for me herself. I’ll be ready.”

“She doesn’t want to fight you,” Brunnhilde said. “She misses you. I think. It’s really none of my business.”

“Why would you wish to get involved in our family affairs?” Gamora’s voice was more curious than accusing. “Besides murdering our father, of course.”

Brunnhilde sighed before answering.

“I’ve lost many people I cared about. I don’t have a family anymore.” She glanced over to see Carol and Peggy bent over a screen together, Carol’s sudden snort infecting Peggy until they were both laughing. “I mean,” Brunnhilde corrected herself, “I didn’t.”

When they arrived at the Benatar and Gamora transported Carol and Peggy off her ship, Brunnhilde motioned for Gamora to hold off a moment on removing her.

“If we don’t meet again,” she said, sticking out her arm for Gamora to grasp.

Gamora gripped her tightly and nodded.

“I think we might though. I thought about it and realized it’s easier for me to find Nebula than for her to find me.”

“I may have left you her coordinates.” Brunnhilde released Gamora’s arm. “Enjoy Missouri.”

She joined Peggy and Carol on the Benatar, pausing to bend over Carol’s seat to surprise her with a deep kiss before she took up her own position. She brushed stray strands of hair back out of Carol’s dancing eyes.

“I’m going to have to redo your braid,” Brunnhilde told her.

“Oh, we’ll have time. We’ve got quite a road trip ahead of us. Luckily… Peter left us his tunes.” Beaming, she started up a song with a bright beat.

Brunnhilde smiled and went to her seat, fastening herself in as Carol readied the vessel for launch.

“You know,” Peggy said thoughtfully, slinging her jacket over the back of her chosen seat, “before all of this, I was actually quite afraid of outer space.”

Carol laughed.

“I can’t imagine why.”