#he said he was sad when sarah died but it didn't hit him that hard because he knew she wasn't on the cover so he assumed she would die lol

[lakemichigans]

my dad said he watched tlou and wanted to know if i already owned the game so he can play it, and i want to watch him play it so bad but i think i would be shaking and crying watching him learn how to use a controller for the first time

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Cold as ice

a/n I honestly hope you all will cry the way I cried writing this because now I genuinely need four to five business days to recover. Because never have I actually needed to take a minute to sob in the middle of writing.

summary: what happens when Ellie stumbles upon a memorial that turns out to have both your and Joel's kids names on it. When the past pain is brought back to the daylight even the coldest of hearts finally break.

warning: pain and suffering first and foremost, tissues ain't included. Blood, wounds, shooting, killing, multiple death, loosing your kids.

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Ellie had slipped out of the shower. She hated being separated from you and Joel. So the fact that you walked away from her, leaving her with Maria, didn't sit well with her whatsoever. You had hugged her tightly before leaving, promising to be back as soon as possible and that you three would eat dinner together as you always did.

She had gotten extremely close to you. Yet there was something in Joel's eyes when he watched you hug Ellie that told her that there was more than you two let her know. She was aware that you two had been together long before the outbreak; she assumed you were married from the bent ring that was on your finger. But besides that, she knew nothing. Well, that you could handle Joel's shit the best of anyone Ellie had met.

She had seen and heard Joel mumbling in his sleep. Watched you rub his back with a sad expression on your face. And the same went for you, just when your nightmare hit - they hit you hard. Ellie had been woken up by your screams in the middle of the night. Joel's calm voice tries to make you calm down. She had only once turned to look at all of this unfolding; most of the time she just pretended that she was fast asleep. "Don't let them, Joel", you cried, "Don't", "I'm so sorry", Joel would sway you from side to side. His own eyes glossed over with tears. "Should have let me die instead. I should have died," you choked out, clenching the shirt Joel was wearing. His face looked stone cold as you clawed at him, sobbing.

Ellie never brought those nights up. If she teased Joel for speaking in his sleep, she had never said anything about your nightmares out loud. After nights like that, she would shimmy closer to you. Making sure she would be holding onto your hand more often or just hugging you every moment she could. Ellie couldn't help the feeling inside her that told her that you needed her.

Ellie hurried down the stairs, zipping the pink jacket she despised solely because of its outrageously girly color. Maria had left the note that she was just across the street, and as much as Ellie enjoyed being alone. She needed to kill time before you two came back. Plus, being away from you made her rather uneasy. She knocked on the door a couple of times. Yet no one answered. After more failed attempts, Ellie just let herself in. "Maria," she called out, stepping into the hallway. The house looked nice and was well lived in. Ellie had never seen anything like it. Even the smell seemed homely. She stepped into the living room, where the fire was crackling in the fireplace. Her eyes fell onto the three names written down with white chalk, surrounded by candles. Kevin, Sarah, and Malakai. Ellie couldn't help but frown.

"Ah, good, here you are. Try it on," Maria said, making Ellie jump as she turned away from the bored and took the coat from her hands. "Well, it's super fucking purple," "Eggplant, fits well?", Maria questioned, and Ellie nodded her head. "Who's been cutting your hair?", Ellie gave the woman a crooked look. "Am… world-class salons," she sassed back, making Maria let out somewhat of a chuckle. "I'll go get my sizers," Ellie argued immediately, but Maria stood firm, "Just the ends I promised."

The sound itself made Ellie cringe as she held onto the side of the chair for dear life. She hated this. Hated getting her hair cut. "I saw you looking at the memorial Tommy made", Ellie swallowed hard once Maria spoke up once again. She hoped this wouldn't be brought up, but then again, she was snooping. "I'm sorry about your kids," Ellie choked out, thankful that she didn't have to look her in the eye. Maria's movements stopped. "It's okay and kid. Just Kevin. Sarah and Malakai were Joel's and Y/N's kids", and a cold shiver ran down Ellie's back. Kids. You two had kids and lost both of them. "I'm sorry, shouldn't have said anything", "It's okay, it… It explains Joel's behavior and why Y/N…", but her voice died down. Maria didn't need to know about your nightmares.

"Look, I won't ask you what you are doing with them, especially Joel…" "Good," Ellie bit back. "You need to understand my concerns", Maria walked right in front of her, but Ellie only glared her way, "Be concerned about your husband, who did the same shit, if not worse". Maria let out a surprised sigh, "You have one hell of a mouth," and Ellie quickly stood up, shrugging off the towel that was over her shoulders, "And you are one hell of a sister-in-law if all you can do is throw shit at Joel." The adrenaline rushed through Ellie the moment the words slipped past her lips. She didn't regret them, but at the same time, she knew she shouldn't have. It was, however, too late. So she quickly stormed out of the house.

Her breathing picked up as she ran. Quickly slamming the doors behind herself. "Ellie?", your voice rang through the place, and she almost sank to the floor with relief. Like a lost animal, she darted towards the kitchen, meeting you midway as you stepped out into the hallway. Throwing her arms around your torso as she pressed herself closer to you. You couldn't help but frown as your hands ran through her hair. Confused as to what had happened, "Love, you are worrying me. What's going on?" You tried to loosen Ellie's grip on you, but she just clenched your shirt tighter.

Ellie almost felt like she suddenly couldn't face you. She shouldn't have found out like that. So she quickly stepped back and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. The worry inside you grew even more as you watched her. "Sweet girl, should I go get Joel?", you asked, but Ellie quickly shook her head, only now realizing that this involved him as much as it involved you. "Okay, well, you know you can tell me anything. I can't help if I don't know what happened," you said, softly reaching for Ellie's hand. Just this didn't feel like anything. This felt like the biggest thing ever.

"I'm sorry," Ellie rasped out, "I wasn't… I didn't want to… but they had a memorial," Ellie cried out, and suddenly it all started to make sense. You moved to wrap her up in your arms once again, "No one is blaming you; you were bound to find out eventually." You ran your hands through Ellie's hair once again. With a sigh, you clenched the necklace that hung over your chest. "You want to know the story of me and Joel?", you asked, making Ellie look up at you with mixed emotions. You nodded your head, "Well, let's make tea and sit down somewhere more comfortable." You knew that this was going to be one painful set of memories to unlock. But she deserved it. She was part of the family now.

And what a journey it had been. You met Joel in a supermarket. Where he was frantically looking for baby formula. The baby he was supporting with one hand screamed bloody murder. "Hello," you said cautiously, not wanting to startle him any further. His helpless, tired eyes snapped your way. You could tell that he most definitely hadn't slept in more than a couple of days. If not his eyes telling you that, then his overgrown and unkempt beard did. This male was a mess. "Do you mind if I", you pointed to the bundled-up baby, "You're in distress, and they feel it. Babies are sensitive to emotions", Joel's shoulders sagged; it looked like your words had finally defeated him.

"Just stand here. If you even think about doing something to hurt her…," you looked at him with a knowing smile. Trusting your blood and soul with a stranger was no joke. Especially being a newly baked parent. Plus, fathers were already way more protective. Especially of their girls. You pressed your hand to the heart, "I'll stand right here, just want to help". Joel nodded his head. Dropping down the box of formula he was holding as he moved towards you, lowering the bundle into your hands.

Even with her face all red and screaming her little lungs out, she was so pretty. You gently rocked her in your arms, "It's okay, gorgeous girl. Why are you crying, love bug?", you cooed at her. Fingers carefully ran down her cheek as you wiped away her big tears. "Shhh, sweet girl, you've got your daddy all worried. We don't want that, do we?" The cries slowly died down, and her big, still-damp eyes stared right at you.

Joel felt like someone had sent this as a cruel joke. His wife, the mother of his child, should be doing this, not some stranger in the middle of the supermarket. "Grab the mixture on the second shelf, more to your right", your voice made Joel snap his head in your direction once again. "I assumed you were looking for a formula. So that one should do her good. Won't upset her stomach if she's also breastfed", Joel clenched his jaw at your words. No, Sarah was not. Her mother had vanished. She didn't even know what a mother was or what it would feel like to have one.

You sensed the tension. Slowly stepping closer to the male, one hand resting on his shoulder. "Don't take this as an insult because I'm sure you are an amazing father. But do you want me to pop by and help out while you rest a little?" You had an odd feeling that the mother wasn't in the picture. That he was all alone. And the baby wasn't older than a month or a bit more. If this man was juggling that alone. Well, that must have been hard.

You hummed to yourself as you fixed up a light dinner from whatever you managed to find in Joel's fridge. Considering the empty cardboard boxes all over the place, it's been a hot minute since he had a proper meal himself. Once he drove you back to his, you quickly ushered him upstairs. Telling him to take a bath and catch some sleep. You knew that he would have fought you on it. If only he wasn't running on the last bits of energy. And you weren't snooping, but while you were cleaning up the kitchen, you found an open letter. A letter you assumed was from Joel's wife. She had left them two without anything, not even a proper explanation. You knew it wasn't your place to judge; motherhood was tough. Not all women were built to be mothers. You had written down instructions for Joel. How do fix a bottle. What different formulas do get, and how to switch them up if Sarah got an upset stomach per se. You wanted him to know that he wasn't alone. Even if you two had known each other for less than a day.

Joel stepped down the stairs hours later. Beard trimmed, eyes less puffy. He found you on the sofa reading a book to Sarah. One of her tiny fists was wrapped around your finger as your soft voice filled the room, "Why are you smiling? Am I that funny?", you cooed at her, making Sarah let out a happy grumble, "Ah, we even lost the pacifier with all the smiling, huh," you pinched her cheek carefully.

Joel was lost for words, to say the least. This was how he saw his family. This was what he hoped he would come down to with his wife. A sob that had held up for weeks, now finally escaped his lips, making you turn his way in an instant. You carefully set Sarah down before approaching him. Opening up your arms in case he needed a hug but keeping a distance in case this was overstepping his boundaries. Yet Joel did fall into your arms. He mumbled out all of his worries and questions that had been bothering him. He had no clue what he was doing. How nothing made sense to him now.

That night, and the many that followed, completely transformed you two. You had practically moved into the Millers' house. You lived not that far away, but the apartment was small, and since the job, you had only managed to cover the rent costs; you were barely getting by as it was. Joel needed someone to look after Sarah while he worked, so having you in the house solved that issue for him. But with each passing week and more, you three fell into somewhat of a routine, and you couldn't help but notice how right this all felt. You always wanted to be a young mom anyway. Sure, the baby wasn't yours, but that meant nothing to you. You cherished Sarah as if she was your blood and flesh. Joel loved that Sarah would grow up having you in her life. A true mother figure and did not doubt that as soon as his daughter learned how to talk, she would without a doubt refer to you as a mother.

Now, almost 12 years later, you still found yourself smiling every time you thought back at the time you and Joel came together, clawing through the struggles as one. "Morning", Sarah ran down the stairs, quickly coming to kiss your cheek as she moved to grab plates for everyone. "Morning, darling, is your father awake?", "Banged on the door loudly, but he's getting old wouldn't be surprised if he didn't hear", you let out a chuckle at her words. She often teased Joel about getting old. Especially now that his first gray hair had sprouted.

"Is Momo up?", Sarah asked, missing the sight of her brother in the kitchen. You turned to the living room, "Tommy is watching cartoons with him." Malakai was a surprise baby, to say the least. You and Joel weren't trying to get pregnant, but at the same time, you weren't always all that safe when it came to sex. When you feel pregnant, you generally couldn't help but have the fear of Joel walking out on you. Yes, you two had gotten engaged not that long ago, but the conversation of having kids together was never a thing.

Yet Joel didn't do anything but cry once you told him. He wrapped you up in his arms as you two swayed in the kitchen at two in the morning, where you had waited for him to return from his shift. "Tell me again; I still can't believe it," he muttered into your ear for what felt like a thousand times, "I am pregnant with your baby." Joel shook his head still, "Baby Miller..", he let out a breathy laugh. Hands coming to hold his head. With you? A baby with you? The most amazing woman on this earth. He surely didn't deserve it, but he was more than grateful for it.

"I know we might get tight on money. I do want to work till I get too big..", you blurred out, letting your biggest worries out. Joel quickly cupped your face, "Don't you worry your cute head about that. I will take more shifts, and we will be fine", yet you still frowned at him. You didn't want him to work any more than he already did. It felt wrong to let him carry the income burden on his own. "I can still work", "I will only agree to that if you are feeling one thousand percent sure that you can do that. I would much more prefer you stayed at home." You did figure it all out, as you always did. Sarah was over the moon to get a sibling, and now more than ever, this felt like a family.

Joel hurried down the stairs just as Sarah came back with Malakai in her arms. Your husband quickly leaned in to kiss you as he grabbed a cup of coffee. "Birth-a", Malakai clapped. Sarah leaned in to whisper something into his ear once again. "Daddy Old," he said happily, making you let out a laugh, especially when that proud smirk painted Sarah's face. Joel shook his head, "I'll send Cooky Monster after you two. Come here and hug me, you crazy bunch." Watching your kids wrapped up in Joel's strong arms always made you feel some type of way. He was the best father a child could ask for.

"No pancakes?", Sarah grumbled as she looked at the scrambled eggs in front of her, "Frown at your father, he forgot to buy it". It was a tradition to have pancakes on birthday mornings. One that all four of you took very seriously. But with the job load only getting bigger, you couldn't blame Joel for forgetting to get it. "Will we at least get the cake?", "I'll buy one on my way home, I promise," Joel said, scuffing down the egg. Sleeping in meant more rushing, especially when he still needed to drop Sarah off at school.

"Good cause it would be a shit birthday if we didn't at least get that", she said in frustration, "Language young lady", you nudged her shoulder. "Your shirt is insane out, handsome", you pointed your fork Joel's way as he dropped the empty plate in the sink. "No, it is not," he argued, looking down, "Dad, you are seriously getting old," Joel grumbled while taking off his shirt. You moved to feed Malikai, trying to hide your smile.

"You and I, tonight after the kids are asleep. I have special plans with you", Joel cupped your face, leaning in to kiss you a couple of times. "Gross!", Sarah shouted from the hallway, making you two laugh. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Miller", you packed his lips one more time. God, was letting go of this man hard. "I know what I am still capable of," Joel teased back, making you raise your eyebrows, " I'll be the judge of that tonight, sir."

You three had already eaten dinner. Malakai had been sleeping on your chest for quite some time. Sarah dozed off slightly as you waited for Joel to come home. He was late. That, of course, upset Sarah. You wished it was different. That she would see more of him. You hoped that now that you had landed a pretty good job deal, you could balance it out. That Joel could be home more often, and the kids wouldn't have to miss him that much.

The sound of the keys jingling made you stir as you noticed Joel walking into the living room. He was tired, as always. Sarah stirred from beside you. "You're so late," she mumbled, leaning more into you as you ran a hand through her hair. "I know, baby girl; I'm so sorry." Joel kneeled in front of her, carefully tickling her side in hopes to make the grumpy go away. "Did you at least get the cake?", Joel cursed under his breath. All the way home, he knew he had forgotten something, but it only hit him now. "Are you for real, dad?", "I promise I'll get the biggest cake I can get for you all tomorrow."

Sarah looked up at him, letting out a sigh as she reached to wrap her hands around her father's neck. Joel pressed her close to his chest, holding her just a tad harder than most evenings. "I got you something but it's upstairs", she said rubbing her sleepy eyes. Once she had disappeared from the room, you turned to Joel. "I'm so sorry for messing it up," he muttered, sitting down next to you. "Jokes on you, you messed your birthday up." You leaned closer to him. Malakai grumbled in his sleep, his eyes opening for a moment. The sight of his father finally being home made him reach for Joel. He instantly scooped the boy up, pressing a loving kiss to the top of his curly hair as he rocked him a couple of times. Malakai eased into sleep immediately. And you weren't too surprised about it—the warmth Joel carried was enough to make anyone fall asleep within seconds.

"Open up," Sarah said as she handed Joel a box. He shook it a couple of times, trying to inspect it without seeing it. "I know it was laying in your drawer for some time now", "Where did you get the money for it?", Joel looked at the old watch that he had to give up on years ago. "Drugs," Sarah said casually, making you let out a laugh that Joel joined soon after. "I think you got mugged, though it's not ticking." Joel pushed the watch to his ear, and Sarah's face paled as she moved to grab it out of her father's hands. The sound of ticking filled her ears, making her roll her eyes and say, "Not funny, dad."

You moved to wrap your arms around her, dragging her onto the bed with you. She would be sandwiched between you and Joel. "How about a movie, and then I'll tuck my two gremlins into bed", Sarah playfully hit Joel's chest, "Mom, will fall asleep within minutes", she turned to watch you already almost dozing off. "I won't say I won't, but I'm giving you ten minutes, and you will be out as well", you hugged her closer, eyes falling onto Joel who looked down on you two fondly.

"If I knew what was going to happen that night… I would", your voice died down, "I don't even know what I would have changed, but I wish I could go back, you know? To try to do something differently", Ellie looked at you. If you had let yourself smile a little at the thought of the happy memories she knew that now was the time when the real shit was going to go down. Ellie inched closer to you. Leaving her cup on the table as she took a hold of your hand once again.

"I have four civilians by the river," the male said sharply into the radio. "Joel," you whispered, pressing Momo closer to your chest as your breathing picked up. Joel wished he could reach for you and hold you close as well, but he knew that now that was impossible. "We'll be okay, love. All of us will be okay," Joel whispered, his eyes not leaving the soldier in front of him. "Uncle Tommy," Sarah whispered, looking between you and Joel. "We'll get you two and mommy somewhere safe, and I'll go back to look for him," Joel said as calmly as he could, pressing Sarah even closer to him.

The soldier lifted the gun, making you shake your head. "We're not sick", Joel managed to say before the shots rang out. Everything that happened after that was a blur and a slow-motion movie at the same time. The fall off the curb. The cries from Malakai rang out even louder than the bullets. You fell right beside Joel, your hands clinging to the boy and pressing him closer to you. The light from the gun made you close your eyes once again. "I'm sorry", you heard the soldier rasp out, "No, please", Joel exhaled, moving as quickly as he could to shield your body with his own as yet another shot fired. Joel's hand pressed down onto you tightly, not even letting go when the sound around him died down.

"Oh god", Tommy's voice made Joel lift his head, turning his attention to where his younger brother was looking. And there was Sarah. Her breaths were shallow as she pressed down on her side, which was bleeding heavily. Joel felt as if his world stopped for a moment as he crowed towards her. "No… no," Joel breathed out, "You're okay, baby girl, you're okay." His eyes fell on the wound that was pouring out bright red blood. "Sarah", you called out, inching towards her, gasp leaving your mouth as you saw just how bad it was. Joel tried to move her up, but Sarah only screamed out in pain, "I know, baby, I know. I need to help you up."

Joel's eyes were on you as you sobbed by Sarah's side. Hands were now just as soaked as his with sticky blood. Joel looked at Tommy, who was holding Malakai, then back to Sarah, who was gulping down air. He couldn't let his baby die. Not here. Not now. Not his little girl. Not his butterfly. Joel pressed his palms to the shot wound harder, making Sarah roar in agony, "I know it hurts, but you will be okay". You brushed your hand over the side of her face, not trusting your words anymore.

"Tommy, help me!", Joel shouted, but once he turned his attention back to his brother, his breathing stopped. Your eyes followed Joel's gaze. Eyes grew wide at the sight of Tommy standing there with a gun pointed at his head. Malakai being dragged away by another soldier. You quickly rose to your feet. "Give me my boy!", you shouted. No longer sounding like yourself. More like a wild animal out for blood.

"That's a child. Are you going to kill a child?", you stepped closer, but only got met with the back of the gun hitting your back, making you fall back to the ground. "Please, please, I'll do anything," you croaked out, pulling yourself up as you watched the soldier stop in its tracks. The boy in his arms reached out to you as he cried. The soldier let go of Malakai, and for a split second, a rush of hope flowed through you. He was going to come back to you. Your baby boy was going to be okay.

You reached your hands towards him as he took wobbly steps towards you. "Come here, baby, come here, Momo," you called out, barely being able to see through the tears streaming down your cheeks. "Mama," he cried out, making you nod your head. And then the shot rang out. The sound that you knew was going to hunt you for the rest of your life. You saw the bullet pierce Malakai's head as his body sagged to the floor.

The scream that fell from you was far from human. The pain that pierced you was as outrageous. You quickly moved forward, ready to kill the man who had just killed both of your kids cold-heartedly. You didn't make it far as two hands quickly pulled you over to the side. Turning you away from the lifeless body of the toddler.

Joel knew he had to get to you before you joined the kids on the ground. He held onto you for dear life as you trashed in his hands, "I will fucking kill you, do you hear me? I will rip you to pieces, you fuck," you screamed, trying to get loose and out of Joel's embrace. "Let go of me, let me kill him," you spat, nails digging into Joel's arms as you tried to push them away. "I've got you; you need to breathe." His words made you stop. You looked him in the eyes for the first time that night. Another sob escaped your lips as you sank to the floor, hands ripping at the skin of your chest, "Kill me, let me die, I don't want to live", your words were broken in between harsh intakes of breath. Joel shook his head once again, wrapping his arms around you, "I need you, please, I need you".

The sound of the door closing made you jump. You had no clue when you finished telling the story. You don't remember zoning out. Ellie was still holding your hands, her own eyes puffy from crying. Joel stopped in his tracks. The sight of him was not something he imagined coming home to. Your face was pale. Streaks of tears are still visible on your cheeks. Ellie didn't look any better. "What happened?", Joel quickly closed the distance between you. "Did someone hurt you? Are you hurt?", he took a hold of your trembling hand before turning to Ellie. "I…", she started, but the world failed her. The panic inside Joel only grew.

"Ellie found out about Sarah and Momo," you whispered, closing your eyes in hopes to stop the tears from falling once again. To the sound of the names, Joel's jaw clenched as he sat down on the table that was behind him. "I'm so sorry. I just saw the memorial." Joel only shook his head. "I swear I didn't", "Ellie," Joel said firmly, making her stop.

He knew this day would come. He might be half deaf, but he wasn't blind. Joel knew that Ellie was up most nights when you would scream. And was quite surprised that she hadn't yet brought this up in any way. But then again, she wasn't a stupid girl; she knew her boundaries. You rose to your feet, and Joel was quick to steady you, yet you brushed his touch away. "I need some fresh air", "I'll come with you", Joel insisted, but you shook your head, "I want to be alone for a moment". He was going to fight that choice, but by now he had grown to understand that in moments like this, letting yourself feel it out alone, at least at the beginning, was the best option.

Ellie couldn't bring herself to look at Joel as she fidgeted with her fingers, "I didn't mean to…", "I thought I was going to lose her after it all", Joel's words took Ellie by surprise. She quickly turned her gaze toward him. Joel was staring blankly at the wall in front of him. "She did everything she could to die. I didn't sleep; I couldn't. Was too afraid that I would miss something, won't be able to stop her", he exhaled sharply, hands coming over his face for a second.

"You had the biggest impact on Y/N. I saw her smiling for the first time in twenty years when you came by", Joel shook his head. Ellie couldn't utter a single word as he continued to stare at him. "I never meant to hurt you," "You never did. I feel the safest with you. I love you both as my parents. You have been the closest thing to a family that I've ever had," Ellie blurted out quickly. Joel turned to her, his eyes glistening with tears. "I won't let anyone hurt you," Joel whispered, clenching his jaw. Ellie fell into his arms, wrapping herself around his torso. "I know because you've never let anyone down, and you're not about to start doing that now."

[miley1442111]

dinner revelations and reactions- r.cameron (part 3)

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a/n: this takes place in a au where the stuff that happens in the show doesn't happen :)

tropes: childhood bestfriends to lovers, enemies to lovers

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader, jj maybank x reader (dw, not for long)

(use of Y/n, and the nickname Bunny/ bun (but i promise not in a weird way there's a story to it i swear it's not just one of those weird smut things))

summary: rafe and you finally confront each other and it doesn't end as planned, neither does you night...

warnings: mentions of drugs and drug use and drinking, fighting, cursing, rafe is a dick, rafe's mental health, reader is going through it, smut (18+)(fade to black a little bit??) , kissing, alcohol, having sex while being drunk (?), drinking, kind of alcohol abuse, mentions of dead parents and sibling, rafe being jealous, rafe is also going through it (and I think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

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Rafe sat across from you, and you felt his eyes on you the whole time. He had no right to be affecting you like this, making you nervous, making you irritated, worst of all, making you feel anything. 

“So, Bunny,” Ward started. “How are your folks? I haven’t heard from them in a while.”

You felt your throat close, and an uncontrollable coughing fit started. Sarah hit your back and it finally stopped, but you excused yourself for a moment, not knowing what to do. You walked to the kitchen, a glass of water in hand, different to the strawberry daiquiri on the table, the one that Rose had insisted on making you. You felt yourself tear up as you thought about your lonely life. The past 3 had been the worst of your life. Coming home to an empty house, having to clean out their bedroom and everything else they owned, having no choice in how they went. A lot of your college friends ditched you at that time too, you didn't tell them what happened and you stopped coming out with them, so you drifted. It was so fucking hard. And explaining it would be difficult too. 

You hadn’t even noticed you’d started crying until Rafe had put his arms around you. 

And then there was the Rafe heartbreak. Your best friend and first love drifting away mere months after you moved to a whole new place, full of new people, and new ways to live. It was unfunny how upset you’d been, not leaving your room (except for going to school or for mealtimes), you almost broke your phone, you were so upset, and you got rid of anything (aside from the friendship bracelet you still wore) that reminded you of him. 

But for just a millisecond, you allowed yourself to enjoy him being there for you. 

Despite promising yourself that you’d never speak to him again when you turned 16 and he hadn’t replied in months, when big life events happened, you’d texted him. You’d texted him when your parents died, when you graduated with honours, when you got accepted into your dream college, and every single time, it always said that he read your messages. He knew what was going on, he knew you needed him, and he did nothing. 

You pushed him off of you and sighed. “Don’t try to comfort me now. That’s not fair,” you whispered, trying to stop yourself from crying. 

“Bun, please I’m-” he started, trying to take your hand, trying to make you look at him. To see the distress he was in, to notice the effect you had on him, to know that he still cared about you. 

“No!” you groaned, crossing your arms and moving further away from him. Thank god they had a huge kitchen. Rafe was always the focal point in every room, he drew attention in from everyone. His charisma, his smile, his looks, everything. Every time you entered a room he was in you were engulfed by Rafe, and it wasn’t fair. “Rafe, I don’t want your pity!-”

“It’s not pity-”

“Well I don’t want your help!” You finally stopped crying, the sadness easing but all that was left in its wake was rage. “I needed you, when I was a scared 15 year old girl in a new city, on the other side of  the country, I needed you when my brother died, I needed you when my parents died, I needed you when I was scared to move to college, I needed you when my first boyfriend and I broke up, and you weren’t there Rafe. But just because I needed you then, does not mean I need you now. You are exactly what is wrong with everyone on this island. You’re a prejudiced, privileged, piece of shit, asshole, drunk, with too much time and money on his hands. Get a job, work for something, for anything.” 

Rafe just stood there in shock. You pushed past him, rejoining the table.

“Sorry about that,” you chuckled. “My parents…” You paused and took a deep breath. “They died three years ago, sorry I didn’t call to let you know.” 

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Rafe sat across from you, and he had no idea what he was going to do. 

“So, Bunny,” Ward started and he rolled his eyes. Bunny had been a nickname Rafe had given you, and it had always bothered him when his dad used it, or when Rose used it, or when basically anyone but him used it . “How are your folks? I haven’t heard from them in a while.”

Rafe watched as your coughing fit began and he knew why. A sense of dread settled itself deep in his stomach and he sighed when you left to get a glass of water. He started getting up, then turned to Rose. “She doesn’t fucking like strawberry darquiri’s,” he spat.

He walked into the kitchen as quietly as possible, seeing how you sobbed with a hand over your mouth over the sink. He couldn’t help but feel partly responsible, and he hated seeing you cry. He felt you stiffen and quiet when he pulled his arms around you, then he held you closer as you started crying more. He’d missed you so damn much. He knew he should’ve responded, even after all these years, even when he fucking yearned to talk to you. But he’d made his bed and he had to lie in it. 

Losing you was one of the hardest things he’d ever gone through, and it wasn’t like his mom, where he could blame external forces, he was stuck with knowing that you being gone was his doing. That he’d driven you away at the ripe old age of 14. He loved you, and you’d left, but he just couldn’t see a universe where someone as lovely as you wanted him to stay, so he left. And he was stupid for leaving, and even worse for not apologising, but he was never known to go back on his word. As he held you, he thought about all the time his dad had said something, had hit him, and he thought about the fact that he could’ve talked to you. He could’ve called and asked for your advice, he could’ve heard your voice.  

And he noticed how your hands stayed on his body, not pushing him away, and he smiled. 

He felt awful for his behaviour. He should’ve been there for you when your brother and when your parents died. He knew he should’ve driven to fucking California and held you at the funeral. Let you cry on his shoulder. He should’ve been sending you supportive texts as you entered college, he should’ve been facetiming you asking about courses and classes, he should’ve been there to tell you that your asshole boyfriend wasn’t the shit. He remembered how he’d gone on a two-day bender when you texted him to say you had a boyfriend. He’d never been so jealous, and he hadn’t seen you in years. But he knew, he knew your spirit and he knew how beautiful you’d grown up to be. He knew your personality and your smile. It wasn’t fair what he did, but he knew this wasn’t about him. So, he just enjoyed being wanted by you, even if it was just for a few minutes. He didn’t deserve you in any capacity, but you still stood in the kitchen, his arms around you as you cried. 

You pushed him off of you and sighed. “Don’t try to comfort me now. That’s not fair,” you whispered. And the moment was over, but Rafe still had to try. 

“Bun, please I’m-” he started, trying to take your hand. He needed you to see him. He needed you to look at him, and look at the desperation in his eyes. He needed to explain that he hadn’t felt alive since you’d been gone, and having you here, being able to hold you? It had brought him back to life. 

“No!” you groaned, crossing your arms and moving further away from him. Fuck this huge kitchen, he wanted you closer to him, but he knew not to overstep. He stood at the sink and you paced slowly. Rafe was being driven out of his mind with these mixed signals. This wasn’t fair. “Rafe, I don’t want your pity!-”

“It’s not pity-” He tried to reason, his anger bubbling, but he took a deep breath to try and settle it. 

“Well I don’t want your help!” You finally stopped crying, the sadness easing but all that was left in its wake was rage. “I needed you, when I was a scared 15 year old girl in a new city, on the other side of  the country, I needed you when my brother died, I needed you when my parents died, I needed you when I was scared to move to college, I needed you when my first boyfriend and I broke up, and you weren’t there Rafe. But just because I needed you then, does not mean I need you now. You are exactly what is wrong with everyone on this island. You’re a prejudiced, privileged, piece of shitty, drunk, with too much time and money on his hands. Get a job, work for something, for anything.” 

Rafe just stood there in shock. You pushed past him, rejoining the table. He felt sick. No one had ever called him out like that, you had never spoken to him like that. He stood in the kitchen, and for the first time in years, he cried. He felt a genuine tear fall down his face and he knew he was fucked. 

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

You showed up outside John B’s place, wanting to find Jj. None of it made any sense, it never had. Rafe, your parents, your brother, everything. 

“Hey Y/n,” He smiled, opening the door. You pushed past him inside and to his bedroom. “Everything ok?” He asked, following you.

“Do you have something strong?” You asked and he smirked. 

“Yeah,” he reached behind you to a cabinet and produced a bottle of Polmos Spirytus Rektyfikowany Vodka. 

“What’s that?” You asked, looking over to Polish bottle. 

“95% abv,” he smirked. “Strongest out there.”

You uncapped it and took a large swig. Jj chuckled when you had no reaction. 

“Good,” he smirked, then took the bottle off of you and drank some himself. 

The night went on through a haze of alcohol, laughter, and a weird energy in the air, something you couldn’t exactly put your finger on. 

“You tired?” He asked, a smile on his face. 

You didn’t answer, just pressing your lips to his. His hands grabbed your waist as you pulled him down on top of you. You needed to forget, to be distracted for a few hours, for one night to not be inside your own mind. Jj could serve that purpose, and maybe more. You just knew you needed to stop thinking.

“A-are you sure?” He asked, pulling away for a beat as you pulled his shirt off. 

“So sure,” you nodded and kissed him again. He smirked as you desperately pulled at his hair. 

He pulled down your trousers and pants in one fluid motion and he groaned. “You’re fucking gorgeous. All of you.”

He smashed his lips onto yours once again. Next his pants were down and he wax putting a condom on, then he was inside you and fuck. He was big. 

“Jj!” you whined as he sunk into you. His forehead was already laced with sweat. 

“Yeah baby?’ he gritted out, using all of his self-control to give you a minute to adjust. 

“So big,” you groaned. 

“You can take it,” he grunted as he started to move. You were so wet, so tight, so perfect. He couldn’t get you out of his head, and this was a lot better than what he was imagining. 

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

You weren’t sure what time it was when you fell asleep, but you were fucking exhausted. You fell asleep with his arms around you, and you woke up the same way, with your head pounding and the uncontrollable urge to vomit.

What had you done?

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

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

taglist: (comment to be added :))

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[moekaneko]

New Fear Street Theories (1/2)

I wanted to mention fear street again since I just rewatched the movies after I heard there's a new one coming out.

I'm definitely excited but also slightly nervous since it's a new director and writers so we'll see how it goes

But I just want to recover some of my original theories and theorise about the new one

Turns out Joan isn't Kate's aunt, Kate's aunt is actually the little girl killed in the match scene and even though it was never explicit the director and actor discussed it when she did the scene.

Someone commented this under my other post but Ryan messes with everyone because the killers keep parts of their personalities like how fucking creepy the milkman is while the others aren't and ruby's singing.

Heather runs for Ryan's shop instead of out of the mall because she doesn't realize it's him and doesn't want him to be killed too, pretty sad.

Nick was at the mall because Heather called the police and the woman sent dispatch, though I don't think that one was hard to figure out I was just dumb.

Sunnyvale is free of crime cause the Goode family wanted it, again I'm just dumb.

People thought Sarah cut off her hand because Solomon probably said so and they all believed him. Probably wouldn't want to admit he did it, not the greatest look.

Peter didn't want Sam out the car because he cared about her. Gotta say, as much as the dude sucked he genuinely liked Sam at least slightly.

Ryan would've killed Deena because of Sam's blood being on her, we see the effect when the killers attack eachother, yet again, I'm an airhead.

Also, Ryan killed the receptionist likely because she would've stopped him from going into the hospital room so she stood in his way.

Simon is employee of the month every month because of the countless overtimes and extra shifts he picked up for more money. Man do I love him more and more every time I learn stuff about him, what a guy.

The bread was on the floor because Kate's head slices pushed it off. Can't believe I thought someone just left it there 😭

And, she has most of her head when underground in the third movie because that's the point where she died, when it would have reached the top of her brain.

Sheila and the others probably just got strikes since the counsellors clearly hate Ziggy.

After careful consideration I am willing to admit that SOMETIMES Nick is kind of cute just not when his eyes are popping out of his skull like that thing from ice age.

Nurse Lane could obviously get out of the witch's mark underground thing because she knew it was a map in the book while Cindy and Alice didn't until they were lost, another case of stupid-itis hit me clearly.

I don't think Cindy and Alice were actually gay anymore, but I do think they seriously loved eachother as friends since they understood eachother like no one else, so I think the actors played them like they were in love because they were that connected even when they hated eachother.

Ruby sings that song because it relates to her and she was a singer, I don't think it does relate to the other killers on purpose since they just killed the people around them and it didn't matter who it was.

Now onto part 2: the theories for the new movie!

[masterwords]

I’m back!

I was thinking about Derek and Aaron having to put together some kind of toy or project for Jack (you know kids always do it the night before it’s due). I’m just picturing some sweet and sarcastic time together doing something for Jack that should be easier but is probably harder than they thought.

Super excited for May now!

Starting May off with this one! And yeah, it got a LOT sappier than I meant for it to...that happens I suppose.

Summary: Jack needs to build a rocket and he has two dads who can help him out. Lucky kid.

Warnings: mention of Derek's dad's death and financial troubles after

Words: 1.3k

Read below the cut or on AO3!

**

** Blast Off **

“You're doing it wrong,” Derek says from the floor. He's on his second set of one hundred pushups, maybe the third, Hotch has lost count. Up and down up and down.

“The directions said...”

“Read them again.”

He can't. Jack lost them about an hour before when Hotch told him to clean up all of the mess he'd made that didn't have anything to do with the damn rocket so they could focus. He can manage chaos on a grand scale, but in his own home it's just a little too much. The sad truth is, those instructions are probably in the trash can beneath the scraps from dinner.

In other words, long gone. He's not digging through the trash to figure this little thing out.

He doesn't think it should matter. There are not that many pieces. They're all laid out, side by side, just like he would set it up if he was taking apart one of his guns to be cleaned. It looks so simple, and it probably is it's just that he's afraid to commit and make a mistake. They don't have time to go buy another kit, they waited until the last minute. Not because anyone forgot, just because Hotch had been a little extra busy at work. Story of his life.

Derek finishes his push-ups and spends almost a full minute drinking every drop from his water bottle. Hotch envies his dedication to fitness, the way he always manages to get these things in without excuse. Hotch hasn't done push-ups in days even though they entered into this monthly challenge some of the guys at the Academy started together. This month is push-ups, next month is running. He'll make them up, no way he's going to come in last or just give up, but he's definitely not making it easy on himself.

“This part goes here,” Derek says, pointing. “I watched my dad and Sarah make one of these.”

“I made one when I was a kid but not from a kit. My dad almost cut his hand off helping me with mine. He wasn't much of an engineer...” In other words, his rocket had looked pretty cool but had been an epic fail. It blew to bits when it hit the ground.

Derek's mom didn't have the money to buy him a kit when it was his turn. It wasn't that expensive, but it would have over drafted her account. If it had been a week later maybe she could have been able to swing it, pinch a few pennies, but things were just tight. Her job didn't pay much and the hospital and funeral expenses were still weighing her down so he was home sick on rocket day to save face. Being the only kid who showed up empty handed would have killed him and Fran knew it. He already had to be the kid whose dad died, he didn't need that too. Things were hard enough on him.

Derek doesn't bring it up but Hotch can see it on his face, he can see it written in the lines on his forehead. He doesn't dwell on these things but they still sting when confronted with them.

“Do you want to take my place?” Hotch asks without a hint of frustration. He thinks maybe Derek might like a do-over. “I could use a few minutes to get some push-ups in before I'm at the bottom of the pile.”

Derek doesn't need the instructions. He can reconstruct a bomb from scraps, he can see the way the pieces fit together and instinctively knows what each of them does. Hotch knows that even if it's not exactly the way the instructions say to do it, Jack's rocket will probably win.

The only thing Derek can think is that this feels huge. This is a father son project, Jack has been talking about it for weeks. The fact that Hotch isn't home often and Jack was worried he'd have to build it with aunt Jessica had been at the forefront of his mind. Not that he would hate that, he just...it was all Jack wanted. Building a rocket with daddy. It's a whole thing. After they build the rockets his whole class will go to a field and launch them, there are even prizes for the winners. Highest, farthest, best paint job. There are about a million categories, enough that each kid in the class will probably get something for their trouble. But Jack just wants to build it with Hotch. And after launch day, to further the experience, they get to go to the air and space museum. It's not the sort of thing some random guy just gets to jump in on. He knows he isn't just some random guy, but until this moment he wasn't really sure where he fit. Jack likes him, or at least tolerates him, and he's careful not to infringe on Jack's precious time with his dad.

This makes him feel like part of the family in a way he hasn't before.

“You sure?”

He expects Jack to politely refuse. He wouldn't mind it. If he could have done this with his father...

“YEAH! PLEASE DEREK!”

Jack's enthusiasm nearly makes him cry. It's all he can do to hold himself together as he takes a seat beside the kid and starts rearranging the pieces into an order that makes sense to him. No hesitation. If Jack wants him to do it, then he's going to do it and he's going to do it right. He thinks about that stupid Inside Out movie that makes him cry every time Jack wants to watch it and he knows this is a core memory.

Maybe for both of them.

They work all evening, laughing and making a mess while Hotch makes up for lost time on his damn push-ups. His arms feel like jelly, his elbows are creaking, but he's back in the running again. He pops a few Tylenol PM so the ache in his arms doesn't keep him up that night but he feels good otherwise. Could probably do more if he wanted but he didn't want. It's late and all he wants to do is read Jack a chapter from their bedtime story and go to bed.

By the time he comes to the table to check on things, they've got it painted with the wildest set of tiger stripes he's ever seen. It looks fast and mean. And the most shocking part? The table is mostly cleaned up.

“Will it fly?” Hotch asks in awe. Derek and Jack laugh in unison and he can't get over how good that sound is.

“Not only will it fly,” Derek starts, standing and arching his sore back. He hates sitting so long. “It's gonna win.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.”

Hotch takes Jack to get ready for bed while Derek finishes shutting down the apartment, checking locks, turning off lights. He gives the glue a test, tugs at the fins, pulls the nose off and checks that the parachute is intact. It all looks good. He knows the engine is solid, it's in there, it's going places. Once he's satisfied with the work they put in, he heads off toward Hotch's room to wait for him to finish, but hears his name called from Jack's room.

“Yeah?” he asks, leaning in the doorway. Jack is tucked into his bed, Hotch kneeling on the floor beside him with the book in his hand.

“Would you come with me tomorrow?” Jack asks with a hopeful smile. “Since you helped me build it.”

Derek can't stop the tears this time. They obscure his vision and for a moment he's speechless. Hotch nods and smiles.

“Yeah, buddy. If the boss says I can have the morning off, I'd love to.”

“Can he dad? Please?”

“I'll think about it.” He's posturing. It's a done deal. Derek already knows it.

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddddddddddddddddddddddd...”

Hotch smiles in a way that lights his eyes up and he nods. “Of course. But only if he brings me lunch.”

“Deal.”

[tlcwrites]

Fall to Pieces- Part 2

Poe Dameron x Reader, Modern AU

He tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat. “I love you, sweetheart.” Your smile was watery and your voice soft. “I love you, Poe.” He tried not to think about how you didn’t mean your words the same way he did his.

Word Count: 5055

Tags/Warnings: Angst. Not as much as in Part 1, but a lot. But lots of fluff, too. And lots of bad language words. Probably a lot of typos, too. It's fucking hard to write past tense when you're used to present tense. If you notice any tense changes, could you pretty please message me because that's my pet peeve and I'm going to have nightmares I missed some.

Author’s Note: It's here! Part 2! I am absolutely bowled over by the response to Part 1; y'all are the fucking best. I have cackled with glee at every single reblog and comment and review, and I cannot possibly verbalize how much it means to me that so many of you are as invested in this crazy little AU as I am. I sincerely hope you enjoy where this is headed. I had to make one small edit to part 1, because I for some reason thought Shara Bey died when Poe was a teenager (canonically he's 8), and I featured her at The Riverside Picnic when Poe and Reader are 12 so, whoops. Whatever at least I didn’t write “somehow, palpatine has returned" in a multi-billion dollar film franchise. My military knowledge is also based on proximity and not experience, and my ANC knowledge even less, so even though I’ve researched as thoroughly as possible, please forgive any glaring factual errors. Thanks as always to my ride-or-die @paper-n-ashes for letting me ramble about plot arcs and for yelling at me when I get too stuck in my head. She's also the one who saved y'all from a brutal section of this chapter but really she didn't because she suggested posting it as a oneshot, and now it's even more brutal, so just remember it's all Sarah's fault. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Series Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 3

Age 6

There was a moving truck in the driveway of the house next door when he got home from school.

He’d heard his mom mention to his dad that someone had finally bought Mr. Kenobi’s house, which made him sad and happy at the same time. Sad, because he missed Mr. Kenobi, who would come over when Poe needed a babysitter, and who would always play as much Legos as Poe wanted.

But Poe was also happy, because his mom said the new neighbors had kids. And on the day he saw the moving truck, he was even more excited, because he could see a bike sitting next to the garage, and bikes that size meant kids his age. Or at least, he really, really, really hoped so.

He waved to Snap and Miss Norra, who waved back before they continued towards their house down the street, and clambered up the front steps. When he pushed open the door, the aroma of his grandmother’s signature cookies hit him like a wave, evoking memories of weekends spent sitting on the stool in her kitchen and munching on all sorts of deliciousness, as she baked and told him stories of her homeland- and swore in colorful Spanish. He followed the scent down the hallway towards the kitchen, where he dumped his backpack next to the door and stood on his tiptoes to see over the edge of the counter. “Are those Nana Bey’s polvorosas?”

“Hey hey hey, paws off, bud.” Kes was transferring the still-hot cookies from the baking sheet to the cooling rack. “These are for the new neighbors.”

“Just one? Please?” Poe schooled his face into his best feed-me-I’m-starving face, but his dad shook his head.

“Sorry, little man.” He gently bopped his son on the head with one of the oven mitts as he reached to return them to their hook. “But we can make more this weekend, ‘kay?”

No, not okay, Poe thought to himself, and when his dad crossed to the sink to wash the baking sheet, Poe stealthily reached for the cookie nearest him.

Kes didn’t even turn around from the sink. “Don’t even think about it.”

Poe, a mere fingertip away from the powder sugar coated deliciousness, slumped dejectedly. “Why do the neighbors get all the cookies?” he whined. Those were his Nana’s cookies, after all, and he definitely shouldn’t have to share them.

“Because we welcome new neighbors to the neighborhood,” Kes replied, “and in the Dameron house, that means cookies.”

Pouting, Poe dragged his feet over to the kitchen table, flopping heavily into one of the chairs. He was not excited about having new neighbors now.

--

“Poe!” Shara waved from the front hedge.

Poe glanced up from where he was docking his favorite spaceship in the drainpipe next to the garage (the tube was the perfect size to substitute for an airlock), and saw his parents talking to two grownups on the other side of the low shrubs, one of whom was holding a brown box tied with twine.

The cookie thieves.

Shara was gesturing him over, a look-at-my-beautiful-child-who-is-gonna-lose-the-Xbox-for-the-weekend-if-they-don’t-get-their-butt-over-here-right-now smile firmly in place. With all the hostility a six-year-old can muster, Poe dropped his toys and sulked across the yard, definitely not digging his toes into Kes’s meticulously maintained lawn in protest.

All four grownups smiled at his performance.

Shara affectionately smoothed his curls as he reached his parents. “This is our son, Poe.” She introduced the new neighbors, and he dutifully shook their hands.

“How old are you, Poe?” one of the grownups asked with a kind smile.

He puffed out his chest. “I’m six and two thirds.” He’d double checked the big calendar last week to be sure.

The grownups made that face that meant they thought he was absolutely precious (grownups were so weird), and the one holding the stolen cookies gestured towards their new house. “How perfect is that? We know a six-year-old who I bet would love to be your friend!”

Poe perked up. Please let him like soccer, please let him like soccer...

The same grownup called your name, and Poe couldn’t help the way his nose wrinkled.

Ugh. A girl. Great.

Then you popped up from behind the railing of the porch.

Poe wasn’t sure what emotion suddenly engulfed him; his skin felt too tight, and his mouth had gone dry as chalk. His heart was having a parade inside his chest, beating so loudly that he was sure it was audible from outside his body.

You skipped down the steps, the braids in your hair swinging as you crossed the yard. You pressed yourself against your mom’s hip as she introduced you to the elder Damerons.

“And this is Poe.” Your mom announced him with that kind of voice that meant the grownups knew something the kids didn’t. Poe hated that voice. He didn’t like not knowing things.

But he liked your smile. It radiated joy, even presented as shyly as it was.

He wanted to do whatever would keep you smiling like that.

“Hi,” you chirped. “You wanna play space with me?”

And he realized you were holding the same spaceship he’d just been playing with.

He was nodding before his brain could recognize the movement.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, having a girl for a friend, if she liked spaceships, too.

...maybe she even liked soccer.

Age 11

“I don’t want to.” Poe’s chin was set in that way that meant stubborn defiance. You knew better than to try to change his mind when he got that look.

His dad, however, did not.

“You don’t have a choice,” Kes informed him, shrugging on his jacket and heading towards the garage. “We’re leaving in ten minutes. You both need to be ready then.”

“We’ll be ready.” Smoothly interjecting, you discreetly yanked Poe backwards before he could pop off and land himself in even hotter water. The look he sent your way was one of complete and utter betrayal, but the one you sent back said ‘shut up if you want to walk out of here without being grounded’.

Wisely, he bit his tongue until his dad had left the room. Then, he wheeled on you. “Why didn’t you back me up?!”

“Because it’s not up to me?” You rolled your eyes at his impertinent look. “It’s not, you idiot, and you know it. What am I gonna say? ‘Sorry, Mr. Dameron, Poe and I aren’t going to go visit Miss Shara’s grave with you today, even though it’s her birthday and-’”

“It’s not her birthday,” Poe snapped.

His vehemence made you blink. “Yes, it-”

“You have to be alive to have a birthday.” He pulled his beanie out of his pocket. It was the one you gave him last Christmas. It was orange and black, his favorite colors. It was his favorite hat, because it was from you. He yanked it on his head at the same time he shoved his feet into his boots. “She can’t have a birthday anymore, because she’s dead.”

You have no response to that. What could possibly be said?

Poe sniffed and shoved a fist across his cheek, ignoring the sharp prickling at his waterline. “I hate that he makes us go ‘visit’ her. We’re not visiting her. She’s not there. It’s just a rock on the ground, but he acts like she can hear us and see us. But she can’t, because she’s dead, and we all know she’s dead, and pretending she’s still there doesn’t- it can’t bring her back, and-” His breath started coming in gasps as he desperately tried to hang on to his anger. Anger hurt less. “She- she left me, and she can’t come back, and- and-”

You caught him as he went to his knees, and he curled into you, sobbing his anguish against your neck. He could feel your own tears on his cheek.

“It’s been three years.” His voice cracked. “Why does it still hurt so bad?”

You didn’t answer, because there wasn’t one to give.

Later, at the cemetery, Poe gripped your hand tightly the whole way back to the car. No one needed to know he’d hugged his mother’s gravestone and cried, the same way he would cry on her shoulder as she held him in her arms.

Just because she was gone didn’t mean he didn’t miss her every second of every day.

Age 18

“Oh my god, staaaawp.” You swatted Karé’s hands away from your hair. “It’s fine!”

Poe, sitting on the other side of the kitchen island, smothered his grin.

“You look like you were in a bar fight, please just let me fix that one piece,” Karé bargained, but you ducked away, and took refuge behind Poe.

He held up his hands as you gripped the back of his tux jacket like a shield. “Hey! Innocent bystander!”

Snap guffawed. “Innocent?” He tossed you the ice pack he’d pulled from the freezer. “Instigator, you mean.”

“I did not instigate,” Poe protested as you wrapped a towel around the ice and shoved it towards his face.

“You gave Tritt Opan a deviated septum and a black eye.” Ben’s dry observation was negated by the amusement in his eyes. “Pretty sure that’s considered ‘instigating’.”

“Looked to me like Tritt was- no, you noodle, it doesn’t do anything if you don’t keep it there-” You forced Poe to actually put the ice on his swollen lip before you looked back at Ben. “Looked like Tritt was drunk and accidentally ran into that door.” Your theatrical sigh made Poe smile behind the pack. “It was so sad to watch. Wasn’t it sad, Alex?”

“So sad.” Alexys fluttered her eyelashes up at Ben. “All kinds of sad.”

“And Artemisia of Caria over there?” He asked her, jerking his head towards you. “I suppose it’s a total coincidence that Tritt has a shoe print on his ass that exactly matches the tread of her heels?”

“Total coincidence,” Jessika, perched on the counter, replied with zero hesitation. “Also, kinky.”

“There’s no way it’s her shoe print.” Using your distraction with Poe to her advantage, Karé gave a cry of victory as she finally managed to pin back the last of your errant locks, before laughing as you flapped your hands to shoo her away. “You know, since she was obviously with us in the bathroom,” she continued, “and therefore couldn’t possibly have booted that prick into the vending machine.” “Really, since we’re girls and therefore incapable of using the toilet alone-” Jessika snorted as she watched you shove the ice pack back against Poe’s face and ignored his muffled “ow?!’, “Our alibis are airtight, and clearly none of us could have been involved in showing that dipshit why he doesn’t mess with Black Squadron.”

“Amen to that.” Snap dropped into the chair next to Karé.

Alexys looked up at her boyfriend. “You know that anyone who doesn’t know it’s the name of the soccer team is going to think y’all are in a gang or something, right?” “It’s intentional.” Ben tucked her closer against his side and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “You don’t actually need to carry the biggest stick if everyone thinks you’re carrying the biggest stick.”

“Furthermore-” Karé brandished her Twizzler like said biggest stick. “-even if anyone in this room had, say, kicked that fucker’s ass-”

“Literally,” Snap added, and exchanged a long distance high five with you. “-and then if anyone else had punched that fucker into next week-”

“Hypothetically?” Ben inquired drolly, and Poe raised his ice pack in salute.

Karé tipped her metaphorical hat to him. “Of course; even then, they wouldn’t be at fault, because-”

“-because that little shit has been cruisin for a bruisin since freshman year when he snapped Pammich’s bra strap so hard it broke,” you muttered under your breath, and Poe had to resist the urge to reach for your hand.

“Because,” Karé repeated at a slightly higher volume, “we all saw him swing at Poe first, and Poe can’t possibly be considered at fault for defending himself.” After a moment to absorb Karé’s reasoning, Poe himself cheekily piped, “Wait, how’d you all see him come at me if you were in the bathroom?”

A collective groan went up as he laughed, and you lovingly smacked him upside the head on behalf of the group. “Some prom, right?” Snap quipped at Ben.

As your friends relaxed into the friendly banter that was the hallmark of the close-knit group, you sat next to Poe and used examining his injuries as cover. “You’re not going to tell Ben what Tritt said, right?” you murmured so low there was no chance anyone but Poe could have heard you. “You know he’d do something stupid.”

“Of course I won’t.” Poe Dameron was many things, but fiercely protective of his friends was at the top of that list. He would defend any of them to the teeth, Ben especially. No one deserved to go through what Ben had gone through. Ben never needed to hear the bile Tritt had spewed about Ben’s grandfather, Ben's uncle, and Ben’s mother. The smears against the Senator were stupid at best and easily-disproven at worst, and who cared about Pastor Skywalker, but the insinuation that Ben was anything like his grandfather, especially given the abuse Ben had suffered…

If you hadn’t sent Tritt flying with that kick, Poe might have gone a lot further than a broken nose and a black eye. Thank goodness the two of you had been the only ones to hear the insults, or the entire team would have ended up suspended.

No one got to hurt their Ben and get away with it.

Snap’s voice jerked Poe out of his ruminations. “Okay, I can't take it anymore. We’ve gone all night; is no one gonna ask the question?” He pointed at you. “C’mon Miss Hey-Poe-Let’s-Go-To-Prom-As-Friends. When are you and you-” he clapped Poe’s shoulder, “-gonna finally admit that this “we’re just best friends” crap is 100%, grade-A bullshit?”

Poe’s heart leapt in his chest, but you didn’t notice, and instead pelted Snap with pieces of popcorn. “Never, you dingus, because we are just best friends.”

The split in his lip throbbed as Poe forced himself to echo your grin. “Yep,” he said, “just best friends.”

Age 21

“Salmeterol is long acting, albuterol is short acting.” You tossed the beanbag back to Poe.

He deftly caught it and flipped to the next card. “Actions, use, serious side effects and specific nursing measures for administration of ondansetron.”

He lobbed the beanbag back to you.

“It’s.. fuck.” You dropped your head onto the counter. “I’m going to fail.”

“You’re not going to fail.” Poe snagged your last fry, then shielded himself when you threw a napkin at him in retaliation. “You jump, I jump, remember?”

You snorted in response. “I am never letting you watch that movie again.”

“I’ll never let go,” he crooned, before yelping as you threw the beanbag that time. “Escalating violence! It’s a pattern!”

“I have no idea why I tolerate you.” Your words might have been harsh, but the doting smile on your face clearly negated them.

He had no idea either, but fuck, he didn’t know what he’d do if you didn’t.

What he said was “Because of my roguish charm. And my cute butt.”

That won the laugh he was going for.

As she walked past with another order, Patty smoothly slid another basket of fries between the two of you, winking conspiratorially. “My contribution to the study efforts.”

“You’re the best, Miss Patty,” you praised her, while Poe shoved a handful into his mouth.

“Okay,” he announced around his mouthful of fries, tossing the beanbag back to you, “The actions, use, serious side effects and specific nursing measures for administration of ondansetron.”

Your anxious sigh had him looking back up, frowning as he watched you shift the beanbag unconsciously between your fists.

“Hey.” He swallowed the last of the fries, and stilled your motion by covering your hands with his. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I’ve got you.”

Uncharacteristically, at least with him, your smile was shy. It took him back to that first time he’d seen you, half-hiding behind your mother’s leg. “Always?”

“Always.” It’s a vow he’d die before breaking.

Age 23

He hated seeing you like this. You were clearly trying not to cry, putting on a brave face that likely fooled everyone but him. Other than the several weeks he was at BLC, it was going to be the first significant stretch of time the two of you had ever spent apart.

He watched you over his dad’s shoulder as Kes hugged him tightly, giving his dad the signature Poe Dameron cocky grin as they separated. “Love you, Pop.”

“Love you, Poe.” Kes affectionately squeezed his son’s shoulders before he let go. “Be safe.”

Poe nodded. “Mom would kick my ass if I wasn’t.”

Kes chuckled. “She would.” He nodded to himself, before gently tapping the “Dameron” printed on the right side of Poe’s fatigues. “She’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“I promise not to piss her off.”

“See that you don’t,” Kes agreed with a genuine laugh, trailing off as he looked somewhere beyond Poe’s shoulder. “She’s proud of you, wherever she is. Just like I am.”

Fuck. Poe felt the hot rise of tears as his dad clapped him on the shoulder, stepping back and murmuring something about getting the car.

As his dad headed towards the exit, Poe surreptitiously wiped at his eyes, feeling you slide your hand into his. “Sorry.”

“For what?” You smiled, even though it was clearly forced. “God forbid you have emotions the day you’re-” You tried again. “When-”

Your face crumpled before you stepped into the protective circle of Poe’s arms, fisting the front of his jacket as you wept silently against his shoulder. He dropped his head to yours, burying his face in the crook of your neck and breathing you in as deep as he could, so he could carry you with him to the desert in his lungs as well as his heart.

You both had red-rimmed eyes when you finally stepped away. He tried to ignore the racing of his heart when you didn't drop his hand.

"Ben's flying out tomorrow?" you asked.

Poe nodded, drinking you in. It wasn't like he didn't know every freckle, but if this was the last time he was going to see you, possibly- he shut his thoughts down. "Yeah, he'll-" He broke off and frowned. "I can't tell you anymore."

"I know," you reassured him. "It's okay."

Neither of you made any motion to go, even as the CO started calling the troops to attention.

“You stay safe, or I’m coming over there to kick your ass,” you told him, gripping his hand as if you held on hard enough you could keep him from getting on the plane.

God, he didn’t want to get on the plane. “I know you would,” he teased. “And I promise you won’t have to.” Standing in the middle of that airport, your cheeks wet with tears, he knew he had never and would never see anyone or anything as beautiful to him as you. He attempted and failed to swallow the lump in his throat. “I love you, sweetheart.”

Your smile was watery and your voice soft. “I love you, Poe.”

He tried not to think about how you didn’t mean your words the same way he did his.

Age 26

Fuck. He was so, so fucking glad to be home.

Stepping off the escalator, Poe looked around the mele. The terminal was filled with loved ones reuniting, and the joy in the air walked hand in hand with the relief of being afforded such a reunion instead of a visit from an officer and a chaplain.

Poe craned his neck to try to find his dad in the midst of the chaos, but before he could spot him, he heard his name cried by a voice he’d know no matter if he was gone three years or three decades.

“Poe!”

He had half a second to drop his bag before you leapt into his arms, a warm, crying missile of emotion that made him grunt with the force of your impact, and made his heart spring back to life in his chest. Just as you had when he’d left, you cried against his shoulder, but this time, the tears were of joy. And as you held on to him like he’d vanish if you let go, he couldn’t help squeezing you back with just as much ferocious love and relief and the purest fucking happiness he could remember feeling in a long, long time.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me today was when you were coming back?” you scolded with your face still buried against his neck. The disparity of your clinging to him like a koala with the hurt and anger in your voice would have been alarming in anyone else. But you hadn’t been apart long enough for Poe to have forgotten how well you could ‘multitask your feelings’, as you’d once described. “I had to hear it from your dad?!”

“I wasn’t sure I’d be on this flight,” he replied casually, reminding himself of the scent of your hair with as subtle of a breath as he could manage. Then he yanked himself back to reality and wrestled his feelings back under control with the same determination that he always had. But his contrition was sincere. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“S’okay.” You raised your head to give him a watery smile. “But don’t you do it again, Lieutenant Dameron.”

Fuck, your smile. He’d lost count of how many times he’d imagined that smile over there, when the days seemed endless and he couldn’t remember why the fuck he’d signed up to be flung half a world away from you.

“Never, ever again,” he promised. He went to set you back on your feet, and grinned when you refused to let go. Like he’d ever turn down physical contact with you. “Challenge accepted.”

Your shriek when he hefted you higher, and the ensuing epithets heaped on his head as he strode out of the terminal with his duffle over one shoulder and you over the older, would be something he’d treasure until the day he died, he was sure of it.

Age 28

“Did you see?” Rey dropped into the chair across to Poe, grabbing the muffin from the napkin in front of him and taking a huge, chomping bite.

Poe blinked at her over the edge of his book. “Good morning, Rey. Please, help yourself to my breakfast. Would you like some of my coffee to go with waitaminute nonono paws off!” He snatched the peppermint mocha away when she nodded and went to grab it. “Thou shalt not steal the blessed bean juice! And did I see what?”

“Who, ” Finn supplied, heading to the break room coffee maker for some blessed bean juice of his own. “There’s a new anesthesiologist in L&D. Alex sent Ben a picture.”

“He is fiiine,” Rey sang, in between polishing off the rest of Poe’s muffin.

Finn gave her A Look over the rim of his mug. “You are married.”

“So? I’m not dead.” She winked at Poe. “And Jannah thinks he’s hot, too. Spousal cosign.”

“When did Alex meet him?” Poe asked, unsure why there was a pit growing in his stomach.

Rey was tapping on her phone. “C-section yesterday. Here-” she slid the device across the table top towards Poe. “Holdo sure moved fast getting someone in here after Dr. Antilles retired.”

Finn and Rey continued to talk over his head about the new doctor (first in his class at Johns Hopkins, residency at Mass General, 12 years at Stanford, possible inventor of sliced bread, jury was still out), but Poe was trying not to bite through his cheek as he examined the picture. Alex had clearly snapped it covertly, so it was the slightest bit blurry, but it was clear enough to see the new doctor was as handsome as Rey claimed. Poe was secure enough in his sexuality to be able to admit it. But what had his stomach in knots was that in the picture, the doctor- Yeager, Rey supplied- was leaning against the counter of the L&D nursing station, talking to you.

And you were smiling up at him in a way that you’d only ever smiled at Poe.

Age 30

“Is it okay if we do the farmer’s market on Sunday instead of Saturday?” you asked, stealing the cherry from the top of Poe’s milkshake.

“Excuse you! I’m confiscating your pie for that,” Poe mockingly admonished, stabbing his fork into your dessert as you laughed and tried to shield the plate. “But yeah, that’s fine. Why?” he asked around a mouthful of apple and cinnamon. “Your mom coming down?”

You shook your head as you swallowed a bite. “No, Jarek asked me to go with him to the Chihuly exhibit at the Gardner.”

Poe nearly dented his fork with how hard he clenched his fist. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” You were reaching for your water, and thankfully missed his reaction. “He said he was supposed to go with a friend who had to cancel, and he’d heard I love Chihuly.” Poe resolved to cheerfully murder whomever had been the one to impart that particular tidbit.

Oblivious to his irritation, you waved at Miss Patty as she came out of the kitchen before turning back to Poe. “Anyway, you know he lost his family years ago, right?”

Grinding his molars, Poe managed to nod. Everyone knew about the accident that had claimed the life of Dr Yeager’s family. Poe honestly felt for the guy; he couldn’t even make himself imagine what it would be like if he lost you. But the tragedy had somehow added to Yeager’s distinguished allure, and he’d become even more popular among the staff. And it didn’t help that the good doc was both skilled at his job and a really nice guy.

Fucker, Poe thought to himself.

Because Jarek Yeager genuinely was a good guy. He was exactly the kind of man Poe would have hoped you’d end up with: kind, smart, hardworking, clearly knew a good thing when he saw it, since he was into you. He was the kind of man who was deserving of your own kindness, who would appreciate your sense of humor, who would take care of you and love you the way you deserved.

Who didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, thinking he was back in the middle of a war, held captive by his own memories.

And even though the thought of it made him want to be sick, Poe loved you too much to deprive you of someone like that.

If he couldn’t be that person for you, he was glad it might be someone like Yeager.

“Risha was saying it’s almost the anniversary of the accident, and I guess he always tries to stay busy around that time, so I thought it would be nice to keep him company. I wouldn't want to be alone.” You shrugged. “Plus, free dinner after.”

Poe tried to distract himself from his building dread by draining half of his milkshake, thankful for the resulting brain freeze, which was frankly misnamed because it did nothing to freeze his thoughts. “...you like the guy?”

You seemed surprised by his question. “I mean, yeah? He’s really nice. I enjoy working with him.”

“Handsome, too,” Poe supplied.

“Are you-” You’re looking at him with something akin to mirth. “Poe Dameron, are you jealous?”

“What?!” Poe covered his panic with a sharp bark of laughter. “Jealous of who? Yeager? Not at all.” He winked at you with every bit of Dameron charm he could muster. “I’m just keeping an eye out. Gotta defend your honor and all that.”

“My honor?” You snorted. “I’m gonna smack you.”

“It’s in the official best friend handbook. Rule 30, subsection 5, footnote down at the bottom.” He raised his hands in surrender. “It’s out of my hands.”

He tried not to preen as you giggled. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Your idiot. What does that say about your judgement?” He smirked, but couldn’t maintain his joviality. “Seriously, though,” he admitted, uncharacteristically somber. “You’ve been my best friend my whole life. Of course I’m gonna be protective of you.”

“I know,” you smiled. “And I love you for it.”

But not the way Poe wished you did.

You both hesitated for a moment.

“Did you-”

“I had-”

Laughter bloomed as you both tried to speak at once.

You gestured to Poe. “Go ahead.”

He gestured right back. “No, ladies first.”

Your smile faded into something wistful. “Did I ever tell you my parents always thought you and I would end up together?”

“What?” His heart started racing in his chest and he tried to sound glib. “Why?”

“Cause it’s us. You’ve been my best friend my whole life,” you quoted his own words back to him. “You know me better than anyone else on the planet.”

He tried to keep his face schooled into something not resembling the hope he hardly dared to acknowledge. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”

“...have you ever thought about it?” Your voice was soft, and for the first time in almost two and a half decades of friendship, he couldn’t quite tell what you were thinking. It was unsettling.

“Thought about us?” His mouth was so dry it was a sand worm away from being a desert. When you nodded, he swallowed hard.

Only every single moment of every single day since I met you, he wanted to say.

Could he be that brave?

He opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment, there was a crash as a waitress dropped a tray with a table’s worth of orders on it, and he snapped his jaw shut as you turned to look.

He couldn't do it.

When the din had settled, you glanced back to him. “What were we talking about?”

Firmly ignoring his crumbling heart, Poe cleared his throat. “Yeah, Sunday’s good for the market. I’ll grab the coffee on my way.”

Series Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 3

A/N: I have not gotten beyond the first episode of Resistance, so my knowledge of Jarek Yeager is based on what I gathered from online research and what little analysis my husband would give me ("He's cool, what else do you need to know?"), so I'm sure my interpretation is going to be wildly OOC. And if you caught the reference, Alexys and Risha appear courtesy of @paper-n-ashes from her epic space love triangle Sparks and Embers, and any similarity to any of her characters, living or living, is coincidentally on purpose.

[jademakean]

Clouded Sea

JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

Warnings: Death, Thalassophobia.

Not edited

･*:༅｡.

It had been a while since your brother’s disappearance. You don't recollect how you reacted to the newfound information, in the beginning, your overwhelmed mind blocking out the details. What you do remember is how you spent days in your room mourning until you snapped out of your trance.

Just because they didn't find the boat doesn't mean they aren't alive.

It's John B, he knows how to get out of difficult situations.

He's okay

Of course, your slight change in attitude received attention from unwanted locals, you seemed more eager to leave the house, you didn't cry anytime you came back to the Routledge house, there weren't dark circles under your eyes anymore and it wasn't too long before they understood what you began speculating.

Delusion ran in the family

The pogues were the ones to understood your situation the quickest. On the rare location, John Bs name was mentioned, you spoke of him as though he were still alive. Barely phased by the fact that your brother wasn't around anymore. They also noticed how you'd run off right home to check the mail after hanging out with them.

At that point they began to pity you, believing that you were in denial and becoming obsessed-which you were- they discussed it amongst themselves trying to finds ways to bring you back to reality.

JJ was a different story, he became more distant and quiet. Mostly hanging at his house with his god-awful father. Doing his best at ignoring you because you'd just remind him of his second greatest loss.

As time went on you got some clarity on your surroundings. JJ behavior mostly.

You weren't sure how to approach him at first, he must be having his own battles that didn't need to be brought up, maybe he'd shut you out even more if you tried to ask him how he felt. So you decided to be casual.

You remembered how you had asked him to teach you how to surf before John Bs disappearance. You never learned how  because of your fear of the ocean, and it had gotten worse due to this past event. 

Sweat began to gather on your forehead due to the blazing sun up above. You readjusted you loose shirt, hiding your plain bathing suit. You knocked on the metal door, nervously waiting for who you were looking for and as you were about to knock a second time, a very tired JJ appeared with squinted eyes as the light hit his face.

The air left your lungs momentarily. You hadn't seen his face in a long while but he was here now, in front of you.

You snapped put of it when he whispered your name "What are you doing here?"

Taking a deep inhale, you smiled charmingly. “I came over to get you. You promised me you'd teach me how to surf last year, remember?” It was your fault for holding the plans back for so long, the thought of swimming above water clouded with sand was terrifying to you.

You walked past him, grabbing the beach towel on the floor and some sunscreen. “Right now?”

You answered with a smile “Of course! Better sooner than later. I'm tired of holding our plans off, we should just get it done and over with.”

“That's not what I mean.”

You stopped rummaging through the towels. It was easy to tell my the sound of his voice that he was still struggling immensely, it was also laced with confusion on how you aren't in the state of mind he is now.

“There are barely any waves today. I checked and there aren't many people either, it might be because it's a Wednesday.” You changed the attention the topic was directed to smoothly

“Y/n..”

You interrupted him by grabbing his hand, leading him to where his surfboard was abandoned for these past weeks. “Lets go, the sun is about to set.”

As you previously mentioned moments before, the sea was still. The sun warmed up everything beneath it, almost making you excited to get in the chill water.

Once you reached the shore line JJ began making little mountain of sand beside you “What are you doing?”

“You have to practice on sand before trying the real thing." He sighed.

“Actually-” you caught his eyes “-I was thinking that maybe you could help me get more comfortable with being in the water? I feel like that's the overall most basic step, you know?” You laughed lightly trying to cover up the anxiety spiralling in your head.

And thats what happened for the next few days. You started off small, allowing the water to reach your knees then moved on to mid thigh, and that alone lasted about 20 minutes. However, you didn't mind. You were able to talk to JJ more, which was hard.

It seemed like there was something on his mind that was one fake smile away from being revealed.

You both began meeting by the beach at 4:P.M, you'd stay for a few hours before he'd start help u balance yourself on the pile of sand with his surfboard.

It was all going well. You were always a quick learner when you got excited over something. JJ on the other hand seemed to become slightly closed off, like the only thing set on his mind was to teach you surf and nothing more. Limeted physical contact, no unessesary comments, no jokes.

Oh, how much you missed jokes. You hadn't heard one from him since your brother's disappearance. Your hopes of peeping one from him was slowly dimming away.

"Alrighty! I think I'm ready to sit on the board, maybe go farther out this time. A two in one." You smiled. While pulling down your shorts you decided to keep your shirt on. You excitedly took JJ's hand before guiding him to shore.

The water was cold, as usual, but you didn't feel as hesitant to enter it like before. It was an improvement that you were glad to notice.

Since you had a later shift at work it was already 7:50 P.M and the sun was starting to set, making the sky was a beautiful mixture of gold and blue.

You snapped out of your trance once you felt JJ's hands on your waist.

You were suddenly flustered by his action, and even though he was just helping you get on the board, he hadn't been very physical with you those past days. His a action was simply unexpected.

"Thank you." You said sitting up straight.

There was complete silence between the both of you. The only sounds heard was the waves clashing together gracefully, peoples distant voices and seagulls flying over their heads. This was the normal routine between the two of you, no talking, just the patiently waiting for your fear to disintegrate into ashes until you're able to swim without a care in the world, just like all the Pogues.

You missed them, truly.

There weren't anymore meatups at the Chateau or watching them surfing from your spot in the sand, sunbathing while drinking fresh juice.

"Do ya want to make plans with the gang? We could eat dinner at the diner, and maybe sleepover my hous-"

"What is wrong with you."

JJ interrupted you with a harsh tone, causing your smile to falter. "What do you mean?" You asked, calmly adjusting your body so you could sit with both of your legs on one side of the board.

"You know exactly what I mean." He looked into your eyes this time. And it's now that you have no choice but to look at his face that you notice the dark undereyes, dry lips and messy hair.

He wasn't taking proper care of himself, he probably couldn't if he tried. It was obvious your brother's disappearance took a toll on him. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" You asked, slightly afraid of his answer.

"How are you so okay with everything. I remember when you were locked in your room for weeks on end, and one day you just- came out. I didn't even see you and from what I heard it seemed impossible to be true. But then you just showed up at my door with no warning, with this big smile on your face and- I don't understand. He's your brother." His tone became more exasperated as he let out all the words that had been running through his mind.

"JJ, I'm not gonna stay sad all summer just because John be isn't here. I'm sure he wants me to do what makes me happy and keep taking care of myself. Plus, he's-"

"Stop talking about him as if he's alive!" JJ interrupted once again "He's dead, don't you understand? He's not coming back, or gonna send you some letter. He's dead."

His harsh tone made you feel as though he was purposely trying to hurt you. The worst part is that that's not the case. He's trying to make you see what he sees. "He's not dead."

There was a slight pause, he looked at you as if you were crazy.

"He's not. There's no body, so until I see one he's not dead. He's smart. He's got Sarah, they got away from the police and are probably in some island enjoying themselves."

"You've gotten comeplety insane! Do you hear yourself? You sound exactly like him when your dad disappeared, and you know damn well how that went."

His hurtful words ignited anxiety within your heart, making it feel heavy and sensitive. You were starting to feel too much and you didn't know how to stop it.

"I know he's alive! You'll see. He's gonna send some sort of signal, ofcourse we couldn't just show up out of nowhere when the police is looking for him. Since when does a disappearance automatically mean they died?"

JJ's eyes darkened, he was done with this game. He had to witness JJ obsess over his dad's disappearance only for him to be hit with utter disappointmen, he wasn't gonna allow the same to happen to you. "Face it. Your brother's dead, there's nothing you can do to change that."

His words hit you like a wave, his harshness making the agonizing emotion worse than ever thought possible.

It was so hard to keep hoping. It was exhausting.

"I don't wanna be alone"

Your words came out quiet and shaky. Once JJ looked back at you he took notice of the fact that your eyes were casted down, glossy and relaxed to the point where it seemed as though there was no emotion behind them.

The thought of not being able to hug your brother again- not having anymore long converstation about your future or simply seeing him from afar as he tried to outsurf JJ- was a thought that you refused to accept. However, you had begun douphting yourself and JJ finally saw through that crack.

His tense shoulders dropped, guilt sinking in knowing you were hiding the way you truly felt deep down.

"He's not dead, okay?"

JJ gazed at your expression swallowing the shame building up your throat before nodding his head. “You're right, he's not dead.”

He slowly approached you and got between your legs, wrapping his arms around you. “He's not dead.” You collapsed against him, resting your cheek against his collarbone.

Teardrops fell onto his golden skin, the feeling resulted in a shiver, running through his body as he hugged you tighter.

John Bs disappearance was harsh on everyone who truly knew him, and some learned how to hide it better than others. All that everyone slowly began understanding is that you were all one family and should watch out for each other.

“Do you wanna go grab a bite?”

You could almost laugh at his poor attempt to be casual, but you settled with a smile, pulling away from him while wiping your own tears with your arm.

JJ ran his thumb underneath your eye before kissing your forehead. “Come on, we can listen to Bob Marley on the way there if you want.” He snickered as he guided your surfboard towards the beachfront. You sighed, liking the feeling of the water moving underneath you as he pulled you to shore, observing the fish beneath you.

The sun had already set and all that was leftover of the sky was a pinkish-blue.

You could finally feel the sand beneath your feet. You watched as JJ walked off, grabbing his bag and shirt.

“Here.” He tossed over his top and your flip-flops as he slid in his. “Arent, you gonna be cold?” You asked knowing the shit that laid in your hands was the only one he had.

“What, would you prefer to walk around in your soaking wet shirt? Because I think that'd do more damage to your health than me going shirtless.” He teased with a raised brow.

You paused for a second allowing the realization that you are in fact soaking wet to sink in “Yeah you're right. Suffer.” Your approving sentence got a laugh from him.

You gaped at him. This was the first time you heard him laugh ever since go started talking to him again.

A smile made its way to your lips “Alright, I'm ready.” You stated after pulling a new shirt over your body. “My tapes are in the outside pocket.”

He pulled out the Bob Marley cassette from the bag before sharing an earbud with you. You accepted, untying your dry hair and finally setting it free.

The walk was peaceful, a comfortable silence falling over the both of you. The smell of pinewood from the trees was calming as you walked past the forestry area of the island.

You and JJ would always use this path after a beach day with the pogues. You would separate yourselves from the group so you could discuss about his job, home life, aspirations. Those were all things he never felt very safe discussing about with anyone but you. John B knew, but they didn't have the sort of relationship where they could switch to sensitive topics easily.

JJ liked how listened. You didn't look at him while he talked about such things, knowing he would feel intimidated by your gaze. The way your body slightly turned to him to show that you were paying attention. Most of all how you communicated with him first. When discussing about his father, you would ask if he needed a listener, a solution, or comfort.

Most of the time he would ask for you to simply allow him to rant, however, there were many times where he would ask for you to comfort him, just so he could receive the soothing sensation of embracing you tightly.

During every hug you shared, we're mere seconds of pure relief, relief that there was someone out there who knows about every aspect of his life and is yet to view him as weak.

“I’m really glad you got me put of the house. I hadn't surfed ever since he disappeared.”

It was as if the path you were on gave him the courage to speak with confidence. “And I'm sorry I was so harsh on you. I didn't mean to. I've just been feeling so much and I got so frustrated when you didn't seem as miserable as I am, I should've never been so insensitive.”

You knew he had a hard time apologizing to people, it made him feel vulnerable and he wants to have the upper hand in every situation. He likes being in control to compensate for the how much of it he lacks at home.

You looked over at him before smiling. “I love you too, JJ.” You ruffled his hair playfully before hugging his side as you walked.

JJ returned your smile, grateful for the fact that you resorted to a light-hearted response instead of a heavy one.

Time passed quickly and before you knew if you had arrived at the Chateau. JJ took a deep breath, his nerves increasing. He hadn't seen any of them, just as he hadn't seen you during those long weeks. How would they react seeing him there, let alone seeing the both of you together with smiles on your faces.

You squeezed his hand gently. An encouraging gesture to give him some strength.

You led him inside, the yellowish lights contrasted the night sky beautifully and as you both sat around the wooden table, you removed the earbud from your ear, which prompted him to follow your actions.

“JJ?” You heard Kie from behind you. Once you turned to face her she looked as though a miracle just occurred before her eyes.

Before your brain could acknowledge she dropped her notepad and hugged you both with the strength of an amazonian. “I missed you guys.” she mumbled into your hair.

As you were about to respond you felt more weight on you “We missed you guys.”

You giggled, now aware that it was Pope who was crushing you.

It had been so long since you had all shared such a heartfelt embrace, and you weren't going to let each other go for a while. You were all family. No matter how far you are or how long you don't speak to each other. This is what a true family was, and soon enough you were all going to be together again, as one.

“We missed you too.”

[mimisempai]

Come close, show me your scars, let us heal together

Summary

You might think it's another version of Sam comforting Bucky, but I promise it's not.

When the nightmare is a common memory where one is the executioner and the other the victim, how to support each other? Is it possible to heal together?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31571318

Words 2540 - Rating G

The Winter Soldier pulled on the wire with all his might to tear off one of Sam's wings.

Then with a powerful kick he pushed Sam off the top of the Helicarrier.

Buckyyyyy!

Saaaaam! Sam!

"Sam!"

Bucky woke up with a start, Sam's name on the lips.

He reached behind him, and fumbled until he encountered Sam's body.

Gradually the wave of relief replaced the wave of horror into which his nightmare had plunged him.

But could he really call a nightmare a vivid memory?

He must have been screaming loudly only in his mind, because Sam hadn't moved a muscle and was still asleep judging by the regularity of his breathing.

Bucky got up slowly so as not to wake him. He went into the kitchen, made himself a cup of tea, walked through the living room, grabbed a blanket as he passed and went to sit on the boardwalk.

Night terrors were not something unusual for him and Sam.

At the beginning of their life together, they were used to overcoming their nightmares alone, to waking up alone, and they didn't talk about it. They did everything not to wake the other, until one night during a nightmare more traumatic than others, Sam had woken Bucky by screaming.

As they talked that night, they realized the comfort they could give each other, that they no longer had to struggle alone.

And just like that, they established a kind of pattern, a way to overcome their trauma. In a rather well-oiled mechanism, one waking up the other, they prepared a cup of tea, a return to reality through domestic gestures, before going to sit on the boardwalk, the contemplation of the immutable lake helping them to regain their serenity. It was not uncommon for the rising sun to find them asleep against each other.

But tonight Bucky had not woken Sam.

He couldn't. Not when this nightmare was Sam's. Not when he was Sam's tormentor in this nightmare. How could he ask Sam to help him overcome this nightmare?

This nightmare that had actually happened.

Bucky looked down at his hands, it was those hands that had pushed Sam off the helicarrier.

He looked down at his hands, at his cursed arm, and felt as if he couldn't catch enough air, no matter how hard he breathed in, his lungs didn't seem to want to fill. His heart was beating wildly. He brought his hands to his chest in pain.

"Bucky..."

He opened his eyes, Sam was kneeling before him.

"Bucky, may I touch you?"

Bucky could do nothing but nod his head.

Sam simply placed his hands on his knees and said, "Concentrate on your breathing. Stay in the present Bucky."

"That's it, slowly, with me, inhale, two three, four, exhale, two, three, four." Sam repeated slowly, over and over, until Bucky found a steady breathing pattern.

"Are you with me Bucky?"

Bucky, still unable to answer out loud, nodded again.

"Can I let go for a second?"

Another nod.

Sam moved to sit behind Bucky, so that Bucky's back was resting on his chest. He covered them both with the blanket Bucky had brought with him and wrapped his arms around him.

"Lean against me and keep breathing with me, okay?"

Gradually he felt Bucky relax against him, and they stayed for long minutes like that.

Sam whispered after a moment, "Do you feel like talking about it?"

Bucky replied with a hoarse voice, "How? How can you hold me like that and be like that with me after what I did to you?"

"Bucky?"

"You almost died several times at my hands Sam, when I was the winter soldier, how can you stand my presence, how can you love me?"

Sam tightened his arms around Bucky and rested his forehead on his shoulder.

He took the time to think before answering.

To say he had no trauma from his fall from the helicarrier would be a lie, but this wasn't his first near death experience. His nightmares were more often due to his experience as a soldier and Riley's death.

This is what he said to Bucky before continuing, "Bucky, it's easy for me to love you because it wasn't you. Yes, I know at first I told Steve that you were one of those people that can't be saved. But I'm glad I was wrong. You're nothing like the one who was fighting me. You could grow your hair back, wear your mask, the same outfit, you wouldn't be him. You ask me how I can stand your presence Bucky. It's enough that I watch you live here, that I watch you play with the kids, help Sarah on the boat, chat with Carlos and especially the way you look at me Bucky, the way you look at me when you think I can't see you. In all of this I see you Bucky, not the winter soldier, not the man who pushed me from the helicarrier, or shot me, I see just you. The man I love."

He pressed a kiss to Bucky's hair. He let out a long sigh, and Sam felt him relax a little more against him.

"In my dream it was horrible, because I could see myself pushing you into the void and there was nothing I could do to stop myself."

"See, even your mind is telling you that it wasn't you. Yes, he is part of you. He left you with the memories of what he did, but it's not you. That's not who you are Bucky. I wouldn't have spent two years on the run for the Winter Soldier, but for Bucky Barnes I have."

Bucky turned his head and kissed him softly before resuming his position, leaning even further if it was possible into Sam's embrace.

"I love you Sam Wilson."

Sam tightened his arms around him just a little more and buried his face in Bucky's neck breathing in his scent, then asked, "Do you want to go back to bed?"

Bucky shook his head, "No, I want to stay here a little longer. Talk to me."

"Talk to you about what?"

"No wait, I have a better idea."

Bucky stood up and said to Sam with a wave of his hand, "Move along a little."

"Bucky... what are you..."

"Please Sam do as I ask."

Sam, having no idea of Bucky's intentions, did as he asked. Bucky took the position that Sam had with him. Sam sat between his legs, Bucky covered them with the blanket and hugged him the same way Sam had before.

Then he whispered in Sam's ear, "I want Sam Wilson to tell me something he has never told me before. You know everything about me, all my weaknesses, all my mistakes, all my pain, but there's a lot I don't know about Sam Wilson. What he's afraid of, what makes him sad, what makes him angry. So tell me something, tip the scales a little, you took care of me, let me show you that I can do the same for you too. That you can lean on me as much as I can lean on you. Anything, I won't judge you."

As Bucky spoke, Sam, feeling safe in his arms, was surprised himself at wanting to let go.

But the word, the name that swirled in his head, the one that haunted some of his nightmares, refused to pass his lips.

Bucky waited patiently, aware of Sam's inner struggle.

His years as a Winter Soldier or just because he was watching Sam since a long time, he had noticed the veil of sadness that passed over Sam's face when he mentioned his soldier past and specifically when he mentioned Riley.

Bucky figured it wasn't his place to ask. That Sam would talk when he needed to.

But tonight, when Sam once again had been supportive and proved how deep his feelings for Bucky were, Bucky had felt that this might be the perfect time.

When living with Sam, it was not hard to see how selfless he was.

Often to the detriment of his own needs.

But Bucky was there for that now. Bucky was ready to be the vessel for his anger, his struggles, his disappointments, his flaws, for all that the world could not see.

All he had to do was convince the man in question.

So he waited, patiently, tightening his hold every time he felt Sam hesitate.

Until Sam began to speak, his voice was barely louder than a whisper.

"Riley and I were pararescuemen working in the 58th Rescue Squadron. We were also both test pilots for the Falcon EXO-7. Our unit was on a mission to apprehend Khalid Khandil, a notable target in Afghanistan."

Bucky just put his hands on Sam's which were slightly trembling.

"Khandil was hiding in an area protected by soldiers using RPGs, preventing the U.S. Air Force from sending helicopters into the area. We had to infiltrate the area using EXO-7 Falcons, which allowed us much more movement than the helicopters. Riley was hit and killed by one of the RPGs, and there was nothing I could do to help him, I just watched him die. I don't think I've ever so much in my life experienced a sense of helplessness."

Sam made another pause, knowing that what he was about to confide in Bucky would not be easy for either of them.

"I didn't want to tell you about this just before, but I have to now, and I hope this won't make you feel any guiltier, but before you pushed me off the helicarrier, you threw Steve off before. And seeing him fall like that, in that moment I felt for a split second as helpless as the day I lost Riley."

For a moment Bucky wondered how many more times he would have to face the consequences of his actions when he was the Winter Soldier. But he soon collected himself because it wasn't about him now, it was about Sam.

"Oh Sam, I'm so sorry." he tightened his embrace.

"I didn't say that to make you apologize, I just want you to know that the worst nightmare I have of this moment is not my fall but Steve's. Steve was able to make it, but Riley... Riley wasn't a super soldier, we didn't have super powers, just our wings, and he fell just like that. It should have been me, I..."

Sam couldn't go on. His throat was tight, he could no longer speak.

Bucky simply said, "Let it go, Sam."

Sam muttered something, his voice so low that Bucky was not able to understand.

"Hm?"

"I don't know how... I'm fighting so hard to be strong that I don't know how to let go."

"Wait..." Bucky turned Sam around, who complied, so that he was facing him, then put the blanket around them. He cradled Sam's head under his chin and tightened his arms around him, then whispered into Sam's hair.

"Sam, you don't have to be strong all the time. And especially not here, with me, in my arms. I'm right here. Let me be strong for you. I promise I won't let you down. Let go, I've got you."

Sam closed his eyes and bit his lip, trying to calm himself against everything that threatened to overwhelm him. He was so ready to give in and Bucky's words were potentially the thing that could push him over the edge. He let out a shaky breath and let himself be engulfed by the sensations, in the safety of the strong arms that were wrapped around him, solid and secure, not remembering if since his father, he had felt such a strong sense of security in someone's arms.

There was nothing to stop the tears now, and he tried as hard as he could to hold them back, unable to stop them. He buried his face in Bucky's chest, the tears now uncontrollable. Bucky hugged him even tighter and gently stroked his back, whispering words of encouragement and comfort into his hair. They stayed like that for a long time and as morning approached, Sam loosened up a bit from Bucky, took a breath and wrapped his arms around himself, looking at Bucky, whose expression was nothing but understanding and acceptance.

"I... I didn't think I still had all this pain in me, or rather I did, but I didn't know I needed to express it. I thought moving on would be enough. You know, Riley was exceptional, I think I even had a crush on him, he had this optimism and hope in people. I don't know if that's why he became a rescuer, but he believed that everyone had a chance. He saw the good in everyone. So I thought it would be okay if I continued, behaving in a way that honored his memory, that it would help me grieve."

"But that didn't help you, did it? Not until you faced it. It still affects you, you know that. I've seen it." Bucky said softly.

"I'm not denying it, but I didn't think taking the time to think about it, sharing it with someone would help me. It's just... I've been dealing with it on my own for so long, buried it for so long that to suddenly be confronted with it is...unsettling."

Bucky brushed a hand across his cheek, wiping a tear that lingered in the corner of Sam's eye with the tip of his thumb.

"I know Sam. Believe me I know."

"Just because you know, it makes it a little easier," Sam said quickly, grabbing Bucky's hand and intertwining his fingers with his. "It's so hard and painful, but you help me. You of all people know what it's like to feel guilty when rationally you know you're not."

Bucky continued to hold Sam's hand tightly, scrutinizing his face, torn between overwhelming elation that Sam had been able to trust him so much, and bitter sadness that he needed to. His need to protect Sam was stronger than ever and it broke his heart to think of the pain Sam must have carried inside him without being able to express it.

Because words were not enough to describe the emotion that was overwhelming him, he lifted Sam's chin and chose to express everything he felt in another way. He took Sam's face in his hands and pressed soft kisses to his cheeks before putting his lips to Sam's and kissing him gently and slowly. Sam put his arms around Bucky and responded to the kiss with the same gentleness until Bucky broke the kiss and said his mouth against Sam's.

"I love you."

Sam didn't answer, he just hugged Bucky tighter and put his head in his neck. They stayed in that embrace until the sun came up. They let its warm rays erase the last shadows of that night before returning to their home.

They were to face another day, together, their hearts happy to know that they would no longer face this life alone. That they would protect this life, together, with all the power, love and hope they possessed. ______

I'm still exploring their relationship, I know my writing is simple and wonky, but I'm learning.

Thank you for reading.

[ruckystarnes]

AUTHOR: RuckyStarnes

WARNINGS:   None

CHARACTERS: Bucky Barnes, OFC - Hazel Hamilton

WORDS: 1,261

Unkept Promises Master List

One | Two | Three

Chapter Two

June 13, 1939

Hazel sat heavily into the hard chair in the small room used for breaks. She was doing her best to keep up with all the injuries that were flooding in the hospital in France. She's been there for just under four months, relocating from England once the war hit outside of Germany and French soldiers started to get injured.  She rested her head back, slumping in the chair, and closed her eyes trying to remember a happier time, but it never came.

"Infirmière Hamilton, Dr.  Benoit aimerait vous voir," a soft voice came from the door.

"Merci, Margaret," Hazel replied, letting out a sigh. She pushed up from the chair as stood up, smoothing out her white apron and checked to make sure her nurse cap was straight with her hand, smoothing out any of the flyaway hairs. She took a deep breath and walked towards the doctor's office. She wasn't in the mood to pull another shift, even though the patient/nurse ratio was overwhelming already, but if asked, she will agree.

Knocking on the heavy door, Hazel couldn't help but wonder why would the doctor would want to see her. She took care of post-op patients: changing bandages, distributing medication, making them comfortable as possible. She snapped out of her thoughts when a gruff, tired voice sounded.

"Entrez."

Hazel opened the door and saw the balding man sitting behind a simple desk wearing a white button down, black tie loosened and a glass of amber liquid in hand. "Vous vouliez me voir, docteur?" she asked, standing in front of the desk.

"Ah, Hamilton," his accent heavy as he spoke English, his smile sad. He gestured to the chair to her right, which she sat in slowly, her eyes fixed on the middle-aged man. "We've received a telegram from America telling us news of your aunt."

Hazel looked at him perplexed. "I'm sorry, but I do not understand, Doctor. My aunt?" She knew she didn't have an aunt, so she was unsure what he was talking about.

The doctor mistook her confusion as concern as his hand rubbed over his face. "Your aunt, Sarah, has passed, Hazel," he said, his hand rubbing his scruffy cheek. "She contracted tuberculosis while working in a hospital in Brooklyn."

Hazel looked at him, still gawking at the doctor. The only Sarah she knew to be working in Brooklyn was Steve's mother. The realization set in, and the dread of the loss finally showed, making her slump in the chair as tears pricked her eyes. Her mind went straight to Steve , her heart breaking for him and how he was alone now, 'sides Bucky, that's if the brunette was still around.

"Mlle Hamilton?" Dr. Benoit interjected her thoughts, worry evident on his face as he handed her his handkerchief. She took it without question as she could feel the tears that gave away her true feelings. "Hazel, obviously she meant a lot to you," he stated slowly. He was writing something on a piece of paper, then handed it and an envelope to her. "Go home. Be with family."

"Sir!" she exclaimed sitting up straight in the chair, the handkerchief clutched tightly in her hand. "I have rounds and patients to look after."

Dr. Benoit held up his hand to silence her. "It's not an option," he said firmly, "you are relieved of your duties. You have all the papers and currency for your voyage home. Take care of yourself Hazel Hamilton."

She stood up, and straightened her apron as she huffed, throwing the white cloth onto his desk and took the papers and envelope from him. "Il a été un plaisir , docteur," she rushed out to be polite but her tone was anything but.

June 29, 1940

Hazel stood outside the apartment for a good half hour trying to will herself to knock. She's been in Brooklyn for nearly a week now, and she still hasn't seen Steve, unsure if she really wanted to see him. The poor boy had to be devastated; almost twenty-two and no family left for him. It made her heart break. The more she thought about it, the more she began to second guess herself of being there.

"If you're looking for Steve, he's not home," said a voice behind her, making her breath catch in her throat. "Hazel?"

Hazel closed her eyes and breathed deep, counting to ten in her head. Slowly turning around, she opened her eyes to meet the warm brown ones of Bucky. She looked him over: three piece suit, hair slicked back, and the same damn smug look.

"James," she responded with forced confidence.

"When did you get back?" His question felt loaded due to the way his eyes narrowed slightly at her, checking her over as well causing her hand to go up to her head in fear that her pin-curls were noticeable through her scarf. This made Bucky smirk, which in turn, made her angry.

"I don't need to tell you," she vexed as she tried to push past him on the narrow walkway, but to be stopped by his hand on her upper arm. "Let go of me Barnes," she demanded through clenched teeth.

"You know, Mrs. Rollins saw you almost a week ago at her flower shop." He was baiting her, she knew it by the smirk on his face. "She said you bought some bachelor buttons. Coincidence, that's Mrs. Rogers' favorite flower. Even more of a coincidence, I took Steve to the cemetery a few days after Mrs. Rollins said she saw you, and guess what was at her grave?" His narrowed eyes felt like they were looking through her as his grip tightened slightly on her arm.

Hazel looked over to her right watching the laundry on the suspended lines flutter in the wind that raced through the space between the buildings, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. "I couldn't see him, James," she whispered as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She felt a tear drop from her eye when she blinked and moved to wipe it away, but Bucky did it for her.

"Hurt too much?" he asked gently, his hand released her arm and rubbed it soothingly.

"More than you can ever know," Hazel whispered. She looked at Bucky out the corner of her eye before she sighed. "She was like a mother to me." The admission made her voice crack as more tears formed. "Steve. He needed me, and where was I? France."

"Hey, you didn't know that she was going to pass while you were gone, Hazel. No one did," Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets, shifting uncomfortably as he was unsure of what to do with her crying.

Hazel opened her clutch and pulled out her white handkerchief, dabbing her eyes as she sniffed. "Sarah took me in when my parents died, James. She's the one that supported me to go overseas, understood why." She put the cloth back into her clutch and straightened her posture. "Don't tell him I was here. Please, James," she begged as she turned to leave.

"He wants to enlist," Bucky muttered causing Hazel to turn back. "He thinks he has nowhere else to go, Hamilton."

She stared at him for a moment, her face like stone. She was fighting the urge to scream as she walked past Bucky. She bent down and picked up a brick by the door, revealing a key. "I'm going to kill him," she uttered as she unlocked the door and walked in.

[books--andt]

A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J Maas Review and Spoiler Discussion!!!

Hey everyone!! Raise your hand if you read and devoured ACOWAR and loved every stinking minute of it! *raises hand 1231434241 times*

Ahh the long awaited ACOWAR, the third and final book in this trilogy. But have no fear! SJM has announced that she will be writing more books set in this world, just not from Feyre's perspective. I CANNOT WAIT YOU GUYS.

To give some thoughts for my non spoiler readers... Sarah J Maas is a queen. Her writing is liquid gold. The way she describes courts, weather, clothing--everything was just beautiful. The character development, for not only Feyre and Rhys, but for other characters as well was through the roof and truly, honestly, makes you wish these characters were real because they FEEl real. They feel like they are your own friends and family and I ended up caring deeply for every one of them. And don't even get me started on Velaris. I WISH I LIVED THERE!

Read this book. This series. Read EVERYTHING by the queen- SARAH J MAAS!

***SPOILER TALK AHEAD***

Hey spoiler peeps! SO! Where do I even begin?? Feyre begins her story trapped yet again in the Spring court. I have to say, I really, really despised Tamlin all throughout this book. The fact that he didn't understand that he wasn't making Feyre happy, that he was trapping her, and that she left on her own FREE WILL made me so angry. It wasn't until the end of the book when I actually was like, ok, he's learned, he sort of redeemed himself. We'll get more into this later.

Once Feyre and Rhys were back together my heart grew three sizes. They are just perfect together. They spoke a lot more with their minds, being Daemati, and I thought this showed just how close the two of them are.

I freaking love Nesta. I feel like if you were to tell someone this who has only read ACOTAR they'd be pretty confused, but her character development, and Elain's too was just stunning. I love how Nesta has this tough attitude about her. She's the kind of person who would say, "you can say mean things about me. But insult my family and friends? You're dead."

And don't even get me started on her and Cassian!!!!!!!!!!! I SHIP!!!!! SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!! I was dying at the end of ACOMAF when she was being forced into that cauldron and Cassian was crawling for her, and calling her name. And then I was bawling YET AGAIN when the same thing was happening at the end of ACOWAR, when Nesta is about to kill the king of Hybern, having summoned the cauldrons powers, but is stopped short when the king breaks her fathers neck, killing him, and her powers are snuffed out. Meanwhile, Cassian is laying at her side, crawling towards her, his wings snapped and broken, telling her to leave him, to run, and she tells him that she CAN'T leave him. Oh my heart. When Nesta positioned herself in front of Cassian and he held her back, I was CERTAIN that Hybern was going to kill them and I was NOT ready. I was nearly bawling at this point. But thank the Mother!!! Elain!!!! She is exactly as SJM describes her as; a flower child, with flora in her mind and a hobby for gardening. But then she comes up behind Hybern and BOOM! Stabs him in the throat-- with the blade Azriel gave her nonetheless! This just proves how she isn't just a bystander, how she has faced trivialities, and hardships, and losses, and it has shaped her into who she is. I'm not trying to say that you need to kill someone to prove your strength, god no, but it was just SO SATISFYING when she stabbed the king and then hisses into his ear, "Don't you dare touch my sister." I DIED. And of course, Nesta gives the final twist of the blade that severs the kings head from his body. Just fulfilling that death promise that she made with her vulgar gesture before being fully submerged in the cauldron in ACMOAF. Loved it.

When Amren betrayed Feyre I was pissed, but only because I didn't understand what Amren intended to do. For a second I thought Amren was going to completely turn on her, and say she was fighting with Hybern, and had been this whole time. But then we realize that she just figured out the only way to stop him and his army is if she is transformed into her original body, the one that would make her forget who Feyre, Rhys, and the others are. It was a sad reality, but one they couldn't risk not having.

AND RHYS. OH. MY. GOD. When he died.... I think all of us readers died a little inside too. But it didn't actually hit me as hard as when I thought Cassian and Nesta were going to die. And that is simply because I didn't believe that SJM would kill Rhys off like that. She's a dreamer, and a lover, and I just couldn't accept that she would leave Feyre to live her immortal life without her mate! Where as for Cassian and Nesta... It just seemed like that could actually happen. Thank the Mother it did not!

The part that really killed me was when Feyre realizes Rhys is dead and is shouting, begging, for the other High Lords to do something to, "BRING HIM BACK." I was a blubbery mess. Until Tarquin, the youngest of the High Lords, steps forward and says to him, "For what he gave. Today and for many years before." And he is the first to give him an ounce of his power. This was so touching to me because Tarquin had sent them blood rubies, had thought them to be liars and thieves. But he then sees that it is not who they are, that they want peace just as he does. When all the other High Lords gave their powers I was really holding my hopes high, that Rhys would indeed survive. But then Tamlin... I was afraid he wouldn't give up his powers to Rhys, and poor Feyre Darling was begging him saying she would give him anything. And then my heart just broke further when he said to her, "Just be happy, Feyre." This is where he redeemed himself for me. That he FINALLY sees that Feyre is indeed happy with Rhys, as High Lady of the Night Court. And while he is still bitter about it probably, and is a real man-bitch to Lucien, I'm happy he at least accepts what Feyre desires now, and helped her to continue her happiness. I also thought it was neat to see the High lords give their powers to Rhys, gently pouring a bit of their magical light onto his bare throat. We didn't see this in ACMOAF since Feyre was dead so it was neat. But one thing that I'm questioning is just the whole process...If the seven High Lords can bring back the dead, why don't they do it all the time? I understand for a mortal they would be giving away their powers as they did to Feyre and they don't want that, but for a High Lord... Well, Rhys didn't steal any of their powers. So basically, if they can do this, the High Lords can never die and will always be able to come back to life, so long as they all agree upon it...Interesting. Unless there are some rules about this that we do not know of yet.

When Rhys awoke and Amren too was returned to them- that shocked me! I was-and still am- surprised that not a single one of the inner circle died or was sent back to where they came from. I'm not saying I wanted any of them too, but it all just seemed so... perfect to have them all end up back together. While Amren no longer has her abilities she had before, she is now High Fae and can maybe learn to train and fight as they would- if she even needs it. I also have to admit, that while I adore the little romances, I kind of prefer Amren on her own. She is just so independent and bad ass, so while I liked her with Varian, I'm not sure I want them to be mates.

AND MOR!!! Tell me that scene where she comes out to Feyre didn't kill you on the inside, splitting your heart into 1000 tiny pieces???? It all makes sense. Why she did what she did with Cassian to avoid being married to Eris, why she could never let herself be with Azriel because while it would mean close to nothing for her, as it had with previous men she'd been with, it would mean a lot to him. It just made my heart grow. And what made it grow even more was Feyre's reaction. She let Mor speak, and gave her the absolute most respect, understanding, and acceptance. I especially loved that she told Mor she wouldn't tell anyone, not even Rhys, which is SO important, because a gay or lesbian person should have the full right to declare the time and manner of when and to who they come out. I love that SJM incorporates this kind of diversity in her books. We also have Thesan, High Lord of the Dawn court who is gay and mated to his captain. Then there's Helion, High Lord of the Day court, who is bisexual. I adored these characters and loooooved learning about the courts more and meeting their High Lords. I really loved the descriptions of the Winter Court; the white foxes wearing little vests, the white bears, the long blue overcoats with white rabbit fur at the trims. And of course, Kallias and his wife Vivianne. I really adored them too.

And then we have those three beautiful monsters. The Bone Carver, the Weaver, and Bryaxis. I was SHOOK when Feyre realized that the Bone Carver was being seen to her as her and Rhys' possible future son. SHOOK I TELL YOU! And when Rhys quietly asked what he looked like and Feyre showed him with her mind... *heart breaks 1213344123 more times*

I was sad when he died, surprisingly. I was never attached to the Bone Carver but... Just when Feyre said that she wishes that he goes to wherever it is he imagined, since he was so fascinated by death, and she sent a prayer to him... That part got me.

When Stryga, the Weaver died... Well I was sad but only because she was fighting for the good side. I think that character is so fascinating and creepy and just... That scene in the Weavers cottage in ACOMAF is one I'll never forget for sure. And when Feyre goes back there in ACOWAR, luring Ianthe and that other guy with her, omg SHOOK AGAIN!! Feyre knew not to close the door, knowing well it would lock, and pinned Ianthe inside while telling the Weaver she brought her dinner. What a vicious, deserving death for Ianthe. Good riddance.

And that poor Suriel... I wonder what it's name was. Feyre is honestly like a disney princess, having all the woodland animals like her and get along with her. She was so respectful to ask for Helion's cape and lay it overtop the Suriel. I feel like it is a debt that no other Suriel will ever not know of or forget. And their father!!! When he came with those ships, three of which were named after his daughters my heart was aching. It just bound their bond a bit tighter, since well, there wasn't really a bond between the four of them at all before. It showed that he is sorry for not being the father he wished he could be, but that he loved them dearly, and was now trying to make things right. He was not away on merchant business as they had thought, but had heard of the betrayal of the mortal queens and sought to find Vassa and Drakon and Myriam who Lucien then brought to the battle. When he died... I mean, I wasn't super connected to him, nor were his three daughters I have to say, but it was indeed sad, just because he was there, fighting for them, loving them even as they were Fae.

And Jurian?? Thank goodness he was on the good side. I'd like to learn more about him as well as Drakon and Myriam. Their stories weren't the most interesting to me, but still I'd like to know more!

While this book surely closed some ties- more so with Rhys and Feyre. I am SO happy they live happily together, laying over Velaris. Although I'm sure they will be facing a little more turmoil in the books to come. What with the mortal queens never showing up to war and all.

Gawd I wonder what's in store for us next??? I'm hoping we see more from the inner circle. I want to see Mor happy with a girlfriend, to have her father either accept it or just be completely thrown out of the picture (good riddance again) and to have Azriel know so that he doesn't think anything is wrong with him. MAN I loved him in this book. He's so shy and mysterious and just... *heart eyes* I also hope he finds a lover-not that you need a lover to be happy but... you know. I kind of like him and Elain together... Anyone else?? I mean, he gave her his SWORD!!!! TRUTH TELLER!!! I know that Elain and Lucien are mates and all, but I said in my review of ACOMAF that it seemed to come out of now where, and it certainly didn't seem to click into place in this book. Elain did not accept the mating bond, nor did she make him food, and she hardly ever spoke to him. If anything, I think they could be friends. Perhaps this will be an example of how the mating bond is not always right, since it's somewhat connected to bearing the strongest offspring, but there's waaaaaay more to a relationship than that of course. Maybe Lucien will find some other lover/mate? I've heard others thoughts of him possibly being with Vassa?? I wonder if Feyre will free her of her firebird curse; Firebird by day, normal female by night.

I also want to see what happens with Nesta and Cassian. Because I SHIP IT SO HARD, MAN. I also want to see if Amren and Varian do end up together or not. It did indeed break my heart when Varian was pleading with Feyre and Amren saying no to her going into the cauldron. But still... Amren is so strong and sassy she can be a bad ass High Fae all on her own without any man.

AND UMMM Lucien is related to Helion!!!!!!!!!!! It all makes sense... He doesn't look like any of his brothers or his father, and this would explain why his fathers and brothers hate him so much. His mother had an affair with Helion, who doesn't even know that Lucien is his son!! How will this play out??? Will Lucien find out somehow? Will he be told? Will Helion discover it?? ORRRR!!!!! Will Helion die, and then boom the new High lord of the Day Court is Lucien and he didn't even know.... THAT would be a shock for him to say the very least.

Also can we talk about the glorious fan art???? It's basically exactly as I picture the Inner Circle to look. Charlie Bowater is seriously talented. Her recent work has Cassian in a man bun-- Like Guys COME ON!!! *heart eyes x 1000* I seriously need the colouring books now, both ACOTAR and ToG. I neeeeeed themmmmmm.

And speculation on an ACOTAR movie??? I mean HELL TO THE YES but the casting would need to be spot on AND it would have to be really, really true to the books. Not holding anything back just to make it suitable for all audiences. War is bloody. War is brutal. It can't be toned down. And for the sexy time scenes well... Maybe it would be sort of like an HBO show ;)

WELL. That was a long one. I love Sarah J MAAS' books. I always thought I loved Throne Of Glass so much more... but now they are pretty even. I can't wait for the next instalments, although it is going to be VERY difficult to wait all the way until 2018 for them. In the meantime... Guess I'll just be rereading them and reading up on some theories for the latter books! What are yours??? I've read some theories for connections between the ToG and ACOTAR universe and it's mind blowing guys, mind blowing.

1000/5 Stars on glorious Star Fall in Velaris. *sighs* Now on to bingeing all the ACOWAR reviews, and perhaps buying an ACOTAR universe themed candle, while I remain in what may just be my largest book hangover yet.... although EoS did give me a huge one too.

What are your thoughts on ACOWAR? I'd LOOOOOVEEE to know and talk all about it! Send me a message or reply to this chat!

As always, thanks for reading.

- T