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writing-for-marvel · 2 years ago

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Dear January

Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: While everyone else is celebrating the new year, all Bucky can think about is his resolution and you, though the two are inextricably linked.

Warnings: a little angst with discussions of Bucky’s past & references to him having PTSD, reader has empathy related powers, fluffy ending

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: banners by @vase-of-lilies, dividers by @newlips. Happy New Year everyone!! I hope 2023 is the year all your wishes and dreams come true 💜💜

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

Dear January, please let the new year be kind to me.

It was nearing midnight when Bucky strayed from the festivities, sneaking away from Steve’s overprotective, hovering presence while he was distracted with one of the new recruits Natasha was attempting to set him up with.

A crowded room with loud music and dancing couples might have been his scene in the 40’s, but was far from the solitary life he enjoyed in the 21st century. Steve had insisted that the party would be a good opportunity to get to know everyone outside of a work environment, and also confirmed you would be in attendance.

If Bucky were honest, that was the only reason he had chosen to come.

This was Steve’s world and Bucky was simply a visitor - if you could call someone who had been living in Stark tower with the rest of the Avengers for more than 6 months a ‘visitor’. But this was Steve’s home, Steve’s friends, Steve’s team, and as happy as Bucky was to see his best friend adapt to these modern times and surround himself with a community of people who trusted and respected him, Bucky still felt like an outsider.

No one trusted or respected him.

Well, with the exception of Steve himself, and perhaps you, the other newest member of the team. But Bucky wasn’t sure if your kindness stemmed from wanting to make a good impression as a newcomer, or if you genuinely liked his company.

He hoped it was the latter.

Bucky’s thoughts as he descended the tower to the small, concealed area in the basement he used to get away from the bustling upper level floors, was that this new year brought a fresh start, and that’s what he needed most right now. A clean slate. To hit the reset button on life.

He knew it was arbitrary, nothing would actually reset at the tick of midnight - his troubles of December 31st would still be his January anxieties; his murderous past would continue to follow him around like a shadow, something he couldn’t simply shake off and which only became darker the more light you shed on it.

But a change in calendar year could at least come with a change in mindset. That would be the first step in achieving his New Year’s resolution and to move on with his life.

Perhaps finally forgiving himself for the atrocities his body committed without permission from his mind would be the first step in feeling like he truly belonged.

“Hey, whatcha doing all the way down here?” Bucky recognised the voice immediately - of course it would be you to find him down here. You were the only person besides Steve to care enough to notice his absence.

“How did you find me?” Bucky chose not to turn around, he didn’t want you seeing the affliction on his face it seemed only you could detect, no matter how hard he tried to mask it.

“It’s not too difficult when you have a cloud of melancholy following you around.” There were times when Bucky relished your powers, being able to sense his emotions meant he didn’t have to find the right words to vividly express how he was feeling when he didn’t have the strength to describe just how miserable and despondent the weight on his chest felt on a particular day. Though, today was not one of those occasions. “What’s wrong?”

“This is technically my first new year since the 40’s, I wasn’t sure how I’d react to the fireworks. Loud sounds sometimes still…” He trailed off, embarrassed at how pathetic it sounded when he tried to articulate that loud sounds still triggered flashbacks to events of a war which occurred eighty years ago.

The concern brimming in your eyes in response to this almost made him feel guilty for not telling you the entire truth - yes, he was concerned that the sporadic, popping sounds of the fireworks would set off one of his PTSD episodes, but what he failed to mention was he was frustrated with himself at not being able to make conversation with the team upstairs as easily as he’d have hoped.

With you it came so easy. Expressing himself to you was effortless and didn’t carry the same nervous weight as it did with everyone else. But that only made his futile efforts earlier that night all the more infuriating and discouraging.

You reached out and took hold of his hand. Even though Bucky had known you for around six months, it still surprised him every time how gentle, almost affectionate, your touch was. It made him flinch, but not in the same way physical touch usually made him recoil. He liked the feeling, he was simply not used to it. Not used to being handled like something cared about, something treasured.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be with you through the whole thing.”

The basement of Stark Tower was the depot for all previously loved items that Tony refused to throw away, so with the items on hand, you set up a blanket fort between a few old chairs, loaded with comfy pillows and sought out some old card and board games to keep the two of you occupied.

When the clock suddenly struck twelve, and the new year commenced, Bucky could barely hear the crackling sound of the fireworks from the haven of your blanket fort, even with his enhanced hearing. You said a quick ‘happy new year!’, kissed him on his cheek and went straight back into the game of uno you were teaching him to play.

He was far too engrossed enjoying his time with you, and trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks, to pay any mind to what was occurring outside the four walls of the basement.

“Do you have a New Year’s resolution?” You asked as you played a draw two card. Bucky groaned in annoyance, though your cute chuckle in response to this was the real reason he had done it.

“Are you really meant to share resolutions? I thought that jinxed them.” Was what Bucky said to avoid saying his out loud.

“It’s not like a wish Buck, you can say a resolution aloud - it’s the work you put into them that makes them come true.” Bucky hesitated a moment but eventually gave in to your curious expression. He knew his aspirations would be safe with you.

“To try and be kinder to myself. Forgive myself for the deeds I was forced to commit and to remind myself what I did doesn’t define who I am now.” His statement sounded recited and even he wasn’t completely convinced by his words, so he knew you, who was privy to every inflection of emotion through his body, would not be satisfied with his answer. “That I’m not a killer anymore.” Bucky added feebly.

“James, you were never a killer.” He had seen the way his own teammates looked at him with utmost caution and terminal wariness every time he entered a room, as if they were all predicting his complete disintegration where he would revert to his brainwashed state and attempt to kill everyone in the tower. He was positive they considered him an executioner.

Bucky paused - you had never looked at him like that.

“I killed people, I’m pretty sure that makes me-”

“No it doesn’t, because that wasn’t you.” You interrupted. The ease at which these words rolled off your tongue and the steady conviction of your voice as you doubled down on your argument, prompted Bucky to think you actually believed them. “You do not hold any of the blame for what you were forced to do, you are a war veteran who fought for the freedoms of so many people, you gave your life so others could live theirs free of Hitler’s regime. You should be commended, not punished.”

“Thank you, for having that faith in me, I’m not sure I deserve it.”

“Yes you do. And I’ll always be around if you need the reminder.” You placed your second last remaining card down on the ever growing pile and claimed ‘uno’. Bucky was too preoccupied with the words you had said to continue focussing on the game.

“Always?”

“For as long as you want me to, Buck.”

“What if I wanted you around forever.” Bucky commented, chuckling slightly so you’d think he was half joking, even though he wasn’t. He bashfully broke eye contact to place a card on the central pile, but it didn’t stop his cheeks from heating like an ember.

“Then forever it is.”

Bucky was absolutely positive you were currently able to sense his feelings of deep affection and devotion for you as easy as noticing the warm sunlight on your skin during a cloudless summer day. But with the way you were earnestly smiling at him, and those kind eyes looking at him like he was all that mattered to you, he didn’t feel panicked that you knew how he felt. In fact, right here with you was the most serene he had felt since the 1940s.

As you placed your final card on the pile, a triumphant smile blossoming on your face as you won the game, he found he could not tear his eyes away from the magnificent sight.

Bucky realised in that moment he would do anything to see you smiling like that every day of his life.

The thought he actually had a remainder of a life to plan for frightened him, but if he would be able to spend it with you then he considered that a life worth living.

“Bucky?” You queried with wide eyes, scooting closer to him in the fort. His heart started pounding rapidly in his chest with anticipation - you wouldn’t have to have empathy powers to tell your proximity made him nervous.

“Mhmm.” He hummed, licking his lips as his gaze quickly averted to your own before returning to your yearning eyes, which were making the carefully constructed walls he used to keep the pain of rejection out, weaker by the millisecond.

“You know, it’s tradition to kiss at the beginning of the new year.” You stated with a contagious cheeky smile.

“I do remember that one.” He chuckled shyly, hopeful excitement buzzed in his stomach at the prospect of what was about to happen.

“I’d like for you to be my first kiss of the year.” You requested, and Bucky’s heart felt like it would explode in his chest it was beating so powerfully. “Also for you to be the only person I kiss all year, if that’s okay with you.” And with that he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

“Perfectly fine with me.”

You reached across the paltry space between you and tenderly placed your lips on his as your eyes fluttered shut. The kiss was tentative at first - you were allowing Bucky to set the pace, determine how deep he wanted to delve. It was Bucky’s first kiss since the 40’s, he was worried he would disappoint you, but when he felt your eager lips against his, it gave him the confidence to go all in.

Reaching across the space between you, Bucky pulled you into his lap, simultaneously silently asking permission to explore your mouth with his tongue, which you freely gave him.

Your bodies pressed together, your hands pulling you ever closer to him, was the unexpected, yet perfect way to start to the new year.

Dear January, thank you for already making this year better than my last.

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works-of-fanfiction · 1 year ago

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Empty Spaces || Lando Norris x ex!Reader

Summary: Lando and Y/N broke up a few months ago but can’t seem to stay away from each other.

Song: affection - BETWEEN FRIENDS

Warnings: Implied smut and mentions of sex. Swearing and a lil’ bit of angst.

Word Count: 3.2k

a/n: I told y’all I’m in my Lando era! please listen to the above song if you have a minute; it really describes how I imagined the characters to feel during this oneshot. enjoy!

"I love you."

“No, you don’t.”

Those three fateful words rolled off of Lando's tongue too easily. The flick of the L, the rounding of the O, teeth meeting at the V, it was like muscle memory for him. It was easy to say he loved her when she was lying naked in his bed, her chest rising and falling slowly, hair splayed across the pillow. It was like Groundhog Day for them. They’d fuck, followed by an awkward silence, followed by Y/N rushing to the bathroom then returning with her eyes glued to the floor. She’d lie on the very edge of the bed as far away from him as possible and try to catch her breath whilst she thought about every reason why she shouldn’t have let it happen again.

The thing about sleeping with an ex is that it’s just too easy. It’s not simple, but so. damn. easy. You eliminate the trouble of meeting someone new and pretending to care about their family dog, or their little niece who just took her first steps. Instead, you’re able to climb on top of, or lie beneath probably one of the only people in the world who know exactly what you want and exactly how you want it. And in those few moments when it’s just two bodies messily colliding, the people within those bodies don’t need to think about the terrible decision they’re making. Lando had certainly never regretted a thing with Y/N’s legs wrapped around his waist.

She liked to call their little liaisons ‘accidents’. In her mind, showing up to his door with a bottle of wine in less than acceptable clothing was nothing more than a mishap. The temporary fun and the need for familiarity completely clouded her judgement, at least until the deed was done. Being beneath Lando delayed the agonising process of getting over him. Regrettable sex was somehow less painful than facing their reality and accepting that they were no longer meant for each other. How were the two supposed to let go of the person they’d once considered to be their soulmate?

“You’re hogging the bottle again.” Y/N groaned, reaching over to snatch the wine from Lando’s grasp.

“That just proves I need it more.”

Drinking had become a great distraction for them. The sex was a distraction from the breakup, and the booze was a distraction from the sex, and they couldn’t have one without the other.

Y/N laid on the floor whilst Lando sat propped against the wardrobe with one elbow resting on his knee. He plucked at the carpet absentmindedly, the friction reddening the tips of his fingers. His eyes wandered around the room and Y/N watched on, wondering what was going through his head. Was he overthinking everything just as much as she was?

After four months of back and forth fighting, they’d fallen out of sync. No amount of love or history shared could protect them from the inevitable. They made each other miserable, and as much as they tried to fix and talk through it, it wasn’t enough. It was when Y/N failed to show up for the Spanish Grand Prix that Lando realised it was really over. Every time their schedules aligned, he’d bought her a plane ticket and tracked her flight until the very second she landed. Spain was no different, despite the condition their relationship was in. She’d gotten the email as usual, the PDF attached and a little ‘can’t wait to see you’ message from Lando. It was the first time the message had felt like a lie. He couldn’t possibly be excited to see her, and she knew seeing him would crush her completely. She had to change her phone wallpaper to one of the default landscapes to avoid staring at his face every time she got a text.

Y/N grimaced as she sipped the wine, pulling the bottle back to read the label. After polishing off the petrol station’s finest Malbec, the best Lando could offer was a bottle of Pinot Grigio he found in the back of the cabinet, which was evidently not her favourite. Despite her distaste, she went back for another swig, swallowing hard so the liquid would barely graze her tongue.

Silence fell between them, not awkward but filled with uncertainty. Lando’s head was littered with questions, but he found it almost impossible to focus with her sprawled out on his floor, legs bare and his t-shirt hardly covering her. He wanted to climb on top of her, crawl all over her and devour every inch until she was crying and begging him to take her back and love her all over again. Realistically, he knew it wouldn’t work and they’d never go back to how they used to be, but he didn’t know how to let go. A selfish part of him wanted to hold on and keep her around, despite just how much it was hurting them both. Every time he let those words slip out, they left a sour taste in his mouth, and a bruise on Y/N’s heart. She couldn’t stand hearing those words uttered when they had no weight behind them, but she’d much rather take those over no words at all.

The first time she’d showed up to his apartment after hours, it felt like he’d somehow wished her into existence. It had been a particularly hard weekend following tons of media appearances and unwelcome questions. Sometimes it felt like he couldn’t do anything right by the media; even an improved performance in Austria wasn’t enough to get them off his back. Having a thousand people congratulate him felt great, but there were always people whispering in the background - it was a one-off. It was a fluke! McLaren can’t keep giving this kid so many chances.

Arriving back in the UK ready for Silverstone was bittersweet, as his excitement was clouded by the pressure and prying eyes of fans, reporters, and everyone in between. He didn’t know who he could turn to as his feelings felt so trivial, and it crossed his mind just how easy it once was to talk to Y/N and offload everything that had been weighing him down. It was strange for her not to be there, so when the notification pinged on his phone that there had been movement detected by the Ring camera, he was surprised to see her standing on his doorstep. The image was blurry but it was unmistakably Y/N, as she rocked back and forth on her heels, one hand clutching a bottle, the other tucked into the pocket of her - Lando’s - hoodie.

“…Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I uh, saw the result from Austria.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You did great. Really uh… Fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“Neither do I.”

Unsure what to say, she thrust the bottle into Lando’s chest and he felt forced to take it. “Thank you… I guess.”

“Yeah.” She hesitated for a second, hands coming up as if she was ready to speak, but instead she turned and started to walk away.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” She spun quickly, looking back at the doors that once led into her home; looking back at the man she’d once considered to be her home.

“What are you doing here?”

He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer. She wasn’t sure she really had one. Something in her told her that she needed to see him, and before she could think it through, she was already halfway down the motorway with the bottle of Rosé she’d been given on her last birthday rolling across the backseats.

That night, he made the mistake of inviting her inside and popping open the bottle to pour them both a larger than average glass. He made the mistake of confiding in her, telling her everything about the Austrian Grand Prix and how it still welcomed unpleasant press despite his P4 result. He made the mistake of hugging her, sinking into her chest and inhaling the scent that once grounded him and reminded him he was safe. He didn’t mean to kiss her, and she didn’t mean to run her hands through his curls as she kissed him back. She wasn’t supposed to push his shorts down and climb on top of him on the sofa, and he never should have whispered how much he’d missed her as he came inside her.

After his podium at Silverstone, Y/N had frequented his apartment a lot in the two weeks before he left for Hungary. The first time was to ‘congratulate’ him and he was more than happy to celebrate with her on her knees before him. They couldn’t stay away from each other after that. As long as they had alcohol in their systems, they couldn’t seem to control their urges. It was when the effects wore off that the regret started to seep in.

They didn’t miss each other outside of the intimacy and affection. There was nothing left to mourn about their tumultuous relationship; the constant fights and distance keeping them apart. Y/N tried to attend as many races as possible, but a race weekend wasn’t exactly ideal for spending time with her boyfriend. He was far too busy on the track, and she was often left to mingle with strangers or keep herself occupied at the hospitality unit. The most quality time she got with him was being there when he passed out in their hotel room, leaving her to order room service and eat it quietly in the corner alone.

“Lando.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you come here?”

“Okay.”

Gently taking the bottle from her hand, Lando placed it on the drawers before lying down beside her on the ground. The carpet rubbed harshly against his back as he wriggled to get comfortable. The two laid flat, staring up at the ceiling where a light bulb had recently gone out that Lando had meant to change. Y/N had joked about it creating mood lighting a couple weeks ago, and that one little remark had stopped him from taking the new bulb out of its box.

Hesitantly, she walked her fingers along the carpet until they met his. The slight touch made heat rush through Lando’s hand and up his arm, and his chest tightened as she linked her little finger with his. She didn’t have it in her to hold his hand properly. She thought if she did, all the hurt and sadness would flood to the surface and she’d be a sobbing mess on the floor. As much as they craved each other’s touch, joining hands felt too intimate compared to having sex. The smaller, softer touches terrified them.

“I think we should stop this.” Y/N thought out loud.

“You think we should?”

“I think we need to.” She turned her head, Lando turning his at the same time. He tightened his grip on her finger, dreading the feeling of her letting go. This wasn’t the first time they’d tried to have this conversation, but the very same sick feeling still swirled around in his stomach. If they stopped this, they’d have to promise never to see one another again, and neither were sure they could do that.

“Okay.”

“Okay? Is that all you’re going to say? Okay?” She propped herself up on her elbows and he followed, mirroring her.

“What else do you want me to say? I can’t beg you to keep doing this.”

But that was exactly what she wanted. She hated how disassociated they’d become, and how having sex had moulded into some fucked up routine they couldn’t get out of. She wanted to feel something, for it all to mean something but it didn’t. It really was just sex. Just seriously messed up sex between two exes that couldn’t face the facts and let the breakup be final. All the times he’d accidentally said he missed her or loved her had been exactly that - accidents.

“I just… I don’t know what this is, what it means.” Her voice got stuck in her throat as if something was telling her to keep her feelings to herself.

“I thought we agreed it meant nothing.”

“Did we? Or did we just say that to make ourselves feel better?”

She sat up, scooting to sit against the bed frame. Bringing her knees to her chest, she hugged herself tightly, begging herself not to get upset in front of Lando. He shuffled over, sitting opposite with his feet almost overlapping hers. “I can’t pretend this doesn’t hurt, because it does.”

“…I know.” He agreed quietly, looking down to fidget with his fingers. She stared at the top of his head, the mound of curls unruly from her touch.

It made her sad just to look at him. The memories would come flooding back like a tidal wave, and she didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or scream at the top of her lungs. She wanted to hit him, scream at him for breaking her heart and ruining what they had. She wished she could turn back time and never meet him or develop some kind of magic power to erase her own memory and make him disappear. At the same time, she longed to hold him, to tangle her body with his and never let go. Imagining her life without him in it made no sense. He had been a constant for two years, so how could she completely cut him off and forget about him?

“Nothing good can come of this.” She spoke, mostly to convince herself.

“I know.”

Y/N sighed in frustration, throwing her arms down to the ground. “You know? That’s all you can say?”

Lando didn’t know how to respond. Did she expect him to offer her advice? How could he comfort her when he was in the exact same position?

“Tell me what to do Lando, just tell me.” Tears began to well in her eyes, threatening to fall as she bit the inside of her cheeks. “I… I don’t think I can keep doing this, but I can’t… Fuck.” The first tear slid down her cheek, and she pawed at her face to wipe it away before he saw.

“Y/N…” He reached out to touch her, but she pulled her arm away. “Y/N, come on.”

“Don’t do that. Please don’t.” She closed her eyes, concentrating on her breathing to try and stop the tears from flowing. “You broke my heart, Lando.” She whispered, saying the words aloud for the first time.

“And you broke mine.”

She looked up, meeting his gaze. Her eyes stung as she looked at him, studying the anguish in his brow and the tightening of his lips. “I… I’m sorry.”

“Are you? Are you? Because you’re the one who showed up at my door and didn’t give me the chance to get over you.” Lando hissed, his tone far more aggressive than he intended. He saw how this upset her and immediately rose to his knees to inch closer to her. “Y/N, I didn’t – “

“No, you’re right. I should never have showed up and practically begged you to fuck me. This is all my fault, that’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?” She seethed, anger mixing with her sadness to create a truly messed up cocktail of emotions.

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant, right? If I’d never shown up here after Austria, none of this would’ve happened, we wouldn’t be in this mess, and you would have moved on.”

“How do you know that?” He asked, sinking back down to sit cross-legged. “Go on, tell me. How could you possibly know that? Do you really think I could move on that easily?”

“But you just - “

“Yes, I know what I said.” He sighed, holding his head in his hands and running his fingers through his hair. “I’m not blaming you. This is just as much my doing as yours.”

Silence fell between them again, Y/N’s tears drying and Lando’s pounding heart slowing to its regular pace. How many times were they going to have the same conversation? What two people spent more time discussing their breakup than actually going through it?

He moved towards her, seeking consent in her eyes before sitting down. She nodded, tucking her elbows in so he could comfortably sit next to her. Laying her hand on the ground, Lando placed his on top and slotted his fingers between hers.

“This is shit.” She declared.

“This is shit.” He agreed.

Once again, they turned their heads to look at each other simultaneously. The redness in her water line and the tears trapped in her eyelashes made Lando’s chest ache. He wished there was something he could do to take the pain away and make this easier for the both of them. He was yet to cry over the breakup as he mostly felt numb inside, but he knew it would come eventually. He feared it. He didn’t want to cry, especially not over something he could’ve prevented if he’d tried hard enough.

Y/N analysed Lando’s blank expression, the dark bags beneath his eyes making his entire face appear duller. She hated seeing him like this, as he’d always been so unbelievably full of life and constantly smiling. She wondered how much sleep he’d been getting. Was he cradling his pillow to fill the empty space in his arms at night? Or was she the only one who needed the comfort of something to hold in order to drift off?

With their faces so close, they could feel each other breathing. Instinctively, Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, her breaths becoming more shallow as Lando tilted his face closer. Curling his finger under her chin, he guided her towards him. “If we do this, it has to be the last time.” He whispered, his bottom lip grazing hers, eliciting a gasp from deep within her chest.

“The last time.” She breathed, desperate for him to kiss her. He closed the gap between them, softly pressing his lips against hers. Quietly, she moaned into his mouth as he opened it just enough for her to slide her tongue past his lips. Tasting traces of the white wine on each other’s tongues, they laid back down on the carpet, Lando keeping a hand beneath her head for support.

She hooked her legs around his hips to pull him closer as she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. He groaned, reaching down to push his shorts past his knees. Y/N balanced on her back, lifting her ass in the air so he could undress her with ease.

Their night ended how it always did. They held each other close as Lando fucked her slowly, trying to delay the moment for as long as possible. Over and over they told each other it would be the last time, knowing that they were lying to themselves.

It wouldn’t be the last time.

#f1 x reader #f1 fics #f1 oneshot #lando norris x reader #Spotify

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 2 years ago

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Midnight

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~4.7k

Summary: Wanda has been gone for work and you miss her

A/N: Hurt/comfort and fluffy fic because I can’t help myselff.

Warnings: Hurt, comfort, some angst

You’d abandoned the popcorn in front of you long ago as you try to pay attention to the movie playing on the television. It’s Saturday night and you’re in your apartment trying to get out of a funk you’ve been in for a while with a horror movie marathon. It’s not working too well because you’re only on the second movie and your mind has already started to wander. Despite how much junk food you’ve eaten tonight and how excited you were to try and wind down after finals week, this night is a little bit of a letdown.

You only have one semester until you graduate and you can move on to vet school. You wanted to celebrate being finished with finals and finally being able to relax for a while. You did well on them and you should be relieved to be finished, and you are, but you’re also lonely. You’d been lonely these past two weeks, but you’d been able to distract yourself studying for the seven exams you’d had to take. Now that you were done, you had time to think about your girlfriend that you hadn’t seen in far too long.

You had been dating Wanda for a few months now, and to say that they were what you expected would be a complete lie. You had learned during the time you spent together that she was smart, thoughtful, and hardworking. You’d also learned fairly quickly that when she’d said that her schedule was unpredictable, she wasn’t kidding.

Sometimes you’d see her every day a week and you’d spend the night catching up and cooking dinner for each other. Other weeks you saw her twice, and sometimes you went days without seeing her, let alone hearing from her.

After Wanda had admitted that she wasn’t a student, she’d only told you the bare minimum about her job. She said she worked with her brother and they owned the family business that they’d inherited from their parents. When asked what the business entailed, she’d told you ‘a lot of things’ or ‘just boring shipping and manufacturing stuff’ and you got the hint that she didn’t want to tell you.

It wasn’t until more recently, right before her most recent disappearance, that Wanda told you that she wasn’t on the right side of the law. You’d suspected this, but having her tell you that it might be a while before you saw her again made it clearer.

You hated when Wanda went dark on you. When she didn’t text for days, it made the insecurities that you could push away when Wanda was with you come back with a vengeance. You’d question whether or not she actually liked you, and if she was just using work as an excuse to be away from you. Maybe she was seeing someone else who was far better than you were, and this thought put you into a slump similar to what you’re in now.

So yeah, you enjoy spending time with Wanda, but when she’s gone for extended periods of time, you’re at your most miserable. You sigh as you continue to pick at the popcorn in front of you as you consider what Wanda could be doing right now. You hope that work is going well, and that she comes back soon because you could really use a pick me up.

You fall asleep on the couch a little while later so you don’t hear your phone go off. It’s not until you wake up and decide to go to bed that you realize you have a few notifications. You ignore them because you’re too tired and you brush your teeth half-heartedly before crawling into bed. It’s almost midnight and you figure you’ll sleep in tomorrow. That’s the least you deserve from finishing all of your finals.

Wanda frowns as she reaches your voicemail again. She knows it’s late, but she really had wanted to see you today. You’d had your last final today and she hates that she missed the entire two weeks that you’d been so busy. She’d wanted to be here, but work called her away yet again and for far longer than she expected. She sighs as she gives up calling and decides to just check on you herself.

She’d driven over before she’d even gone home, so she’d been sitting for a while. She wanted to lie down, but she also wanted to check on you first to make sure you’re okay. Despite the late hour, Wanda can’t help but worry about you not answering the phone. She climbs the stairs to your apartment and takes note of how quiet it is. She tries to be mindful of this as she knocks on your door and waits to see if you’ll answer.

She checks her phone again before knocking one more time slightly louder. She waits for almost two minutes before she tries the door just to make sure. She’s alarmed when she realizes it’s not locked, and she’s quick to investigate. She opens the door and locks it quietly behind her as she pulls her gun and looks around the dark apartment.

She looks to the kitchen first to see that it’s empty, and the living room is equally so. The night light that you keep in the hall illuminated the area just enough for Wanda to see that your bedroom door was shut. She checks in the bathroom and then the spare bedroom before trying to figure out how to check on you.

She knows that if she surprises you, she might get a fist to the face as well as the neighbors calling the cops. The last time she’d scared you while you were sleeping, you’d screamed so loudly that your neighbor’s dog two floors up started barking.

“Y/n?”

You’re sleeping soundly and don’t hear her as she shuts the door behind her. She sees that nothing’s amiss and figures that you must have just fallen asleep and forgotten to lock the door. She plans on chastising you for this later, but for now she’s mostly just glad to see you again after so long. She sighs and puts her gun away before she reaches out for you carefully.

“Y/n, wake up. It’s Wanda.”

You think you’re still dreaming when you hear her voice and you shift so your face is under the covers. You want to stay sleeping so you can keep hearing Wanda’s voice, but something is trying to pull you from unconsciousness. You grumble under your breath as the covers are pulled away from your face and you roll away in annoyance. It takes you a good three seconds before you realize that someone’s in your room with you. You only keep yourself from freaking out by opening your eyes and turning back around to confirm your suspicion.

“Wanda?”

It’s dark, but you see her standing by your bed with a small smile. She’s dressed for work and looks tired, but she doesn’t hesitate to reach out for you.

“Hey, detka. Good to see you.”

You briefly wonder how she’d gotten into your apartment, but figuring this out quickly becomes unimportant when you realize that Wanda’s here. You haven’t seen her in too long and the excitement is enough to wake you up from your deep sleep and you sit up quickly. You smile widely as you reach out for her offered hand to pull her closer. It’s a little bit of an awkward hug given that she’s still standing, but neither of you mind as you hide your face in her stomach with a happy hum.

“Wanda, you’re here! I’m so happy to see you, but how did you...?”

You trail off as you release the redhead for two reasons. You notice as you hug her that she stiffens, and not in the way you expect. You want to ask about this, but first you would like to know if your girlfriend broke into your apartment. She seems to know what you’re asking and she shoots you a look that makes you wonder what you did wrong.

“The door was unlocked, Y/n. You should be more careful.”

You cringe slightly at the reminder that you’d completely forgotten to lock the door tonight. You had been wallowing in your self-pity and gorging on junk food, so you’d forgotten basic security. Luckily it was just Wanda who had come knocking, but you know that she’s right. You need to be more careful. You nod in agreement before you scoot over a little so Wanda can at least sit down.

“Sorry, I fell asleep. Here sit.”

You smile as Wanda sits down beside you, but you’re quickly reminded of your second question when you notice that the redhead is still stiff. You frown as you reach out for her again and she realizes she’s caught as soon as you open your mouth.

“Are you okay? You seem tense.”

You know this could be a loaded question given that Wanda is coming off of what was undoubtedly a stressful two-week work stint. She just nods before she takes off her jacket and sets it aside with a sigh. You wait until she stands up again to take off her shoes, and gun before setting them aside. You think you almost have where she’s injured only seconds before she tells you what happened. You’ve always worried about her when she disappears for a while. You know that if she’s working there’s always the risk of her being in dangerous situations. So far, you’d both been really lucky and she hasn’t gotten too injured, and you just hope that tonight you’ll continue to be.

“It’s nothing serious, detka. I’m just a little sore.”

You don’t have time to ask or even let your mind run wild before Wanda’s unbuttoning her shirt. You wait with increasing anxiety as she finally reveals the angry, dark bruise that runs along her ribs on her left side down to her abdomen. You can’t stop the horrified gasp that leaves you when you see it, and you’re already moving to get out of bed.

“Shit, Wands. That looks awful. What can I do?”

You don’t even wait to hear her answer before you’re on your feet and heading to the bathroom. You have some pain meds from when you’d gotten your wisdom teeth removed that you never used. You’d never gotten around to throwing them out, and once you started dating Wanda, you figured it wouldn’t be a bad idea to hang onto them. You didn’t want to use them, but as you return to your room to find her wincing slightly, you’re glad that you have them for her.

“Here, let me go grab you some water. Then I’ll get you a change of clothes.”

“Y/n, it’s okay. You don’t have--.”

Wanda trails off as you shake your head and disappear through the door despite her protests. She just sighs in defeat as she takes off her uncomfortable shirt with a grimace. Despite this injury being a couple of days old, it still hurts like a bitch. She should have stopped by the compound before coming here, but she was exhausted and just wanted to see you as soon as possible. She hadn’t meant to wake you up and make you fuss over her.

“Here, this should help.”

Wanda thanks you before taking the offered medication with a smile. She doesn’t even bother asking what it is, but she hopes it’s something strong enough to put her to sleep for a while. She sets the glass down on the bedside table next to her gun as you bring her a change of clothes. You help her put the t-shirt on before helping her stand to finish getting changed. You wait until she’s under the covers before speaking up, and it’s not until she shakes her head that you go to lie down next to her.

“Is there anything else I can do?”

Wanda reaches out for you and you hurry to her side as she smiles at you gratefully.

“No, thank you. I feel better already.”

You roll your eyes at this as you get settled in bed with a sigh. You are too worried to simply go to sleep, and you can’t help but want to know what happened during Wanda’s absence. She turns to face you and isn’t surprised to see you shooting her a concerned look. She knows she needs to address it, and she will, but first she wants you closer.

“Come here, detka.”

You don’t resist the urge to cuddle close to your girlfriend, but you make sure not to hold her too tightly against you. You let her pull you close and you sigh tiredly before daring to ask.

“What happened, Wands?”

You lie in silence for a bit as Wanda recalls what had happened a few days ago. She’d been working on dealing with a new competitor that was trying to steal her business. They were unorganized and reckless, and confronting them had been as chaotic as expected. Wanda had killed more people in the past two weeks than she had in a long time. She’d been pressured into confronting them before she was ready because she had to stop an attempt at sabotage, and as a result there’d been a blood bath.

Bucky had been shot in the arm, but mostly everyone made it out with just some cuts and bruises. She’d only been injured because she’d gone off on her own to chase the self-proclaimed mobster. If getting hit with a bat wasn’t painful enough, her brother berating her for being reckless definitely made her regret her actions. Whenever he gets on her about something, she knows she’s really screwed up.

She conveniently leaves this part out because she knows you’ll probably get upset at her too. She doesn’t want to fight. She’s just glad that she’s here with you and that she didn’t get too hurt in the process of eliminating an annoying threat.

“Someone snuck up on me, but we took care of them.”

You don’t have to ask what this means, and you frown at the idea of someone hurting the woman next to you. You know that she deals with criminals, professional or otherwise, and they’d likely just shoot you before you could even touch them, but you still fantasize about punching them in the face. You know it’s a little more complicated than you’re imagining, but you try not to worry too much about what Wanda gets up to. You look up to see she’s watching you carefully for your reaction and you just sigh before shooting her a suspicious look.

“Did you see a doctor for this?”

Wanda is at least grateful that she can confirm that she did this. She’d honestly thought that she’d broken a couple of ribs, but luckily they were only severely bruised. She says this and claims that she got scanned and only left with pain meds and orders to rest. You nod at this and smile slightly as you dare to hope that she can stick around for a while. You’d never want her to be hurt, but you won’t complain about getting to have her around for a while as she recovers.

“How long are you around for? I’d hope you’re taking some time to get better.”

Wanda had thought about this for a while before coming to see you. She was told that she should take a couple of weeks, but she knew that this wasn’t going to happen. She was still busy and had some things she needed to do as soon as tomorrow. That said, when she’d left her brother earlier, she’d promised to remain scarce for at least tomorrow. Now that she’s told you what happened, she’d be surprised if you didn’t demand she sit out for longer.

“I’m supposed to take it easy for the week, but I still have work to do.”

You frown at this predictable answer and you’re already trying to figure out how you’ll convince Wanda to hang out for a couple of days. You’d already given her some oxy, so hopefully she’ll at least sleep through the morning, but you didn’t want to keep drugging her to keep her here. You’d prefer if she wanted to hang around opposed to being forced to do so.

“Well work can wait for at least a day. You’ll hang out here tomorrow.”

Wanda just smiles at you before she kisses the top of your head with a nod. She’ll take at least the day to relax with you and recover. Hopefully you didn’t have any plans that she was interrupting. She can already feel herself getting sleepy. She might end up sleeping through most of tomorrow.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You roll your eyes but say nothing as you lie down beside Wanda with a yawn. You are getting sleepy again, and now that Wanda’s taken care of you are able to relax. You close your eyes and breathe in deeply before turning your face into Wanda’s neck with a smile. You’re about to fall asleep to the soothing smell of her shampoo when she speaks up again. You open your eyes in confusion until her words register and you laugh quietly.

“How did your finals go?”

You hum in contemplation before kissing Wanda’s cheek with a smile.

“They were fine, babe. Go to sleep. We can talk tomorrow.”

Tomorrow comes sooner than either of you are ready for it. Wanda is still asleep at 10, but you need to get out of bed and make some breakfast. You’re careful not to wake her up as you sneak out of bed and retreat to the kitchen. You make sure that the front door is locked, even though you’re sure Wanda locked it, before you start on breakfast. You clean up a little from last night as your food is cooking, and once it’s done you set a plate aside for Wanda for whenever she wakes up.

You eat on your couch as you consider what you’re going to do today. Originally, you’d planned on going grocery shopping before relaxing for most of the day. Now that Wanda was here, you didn’t really want to leave, so you decided to just skip the store and go straight to relaxing.

A little later you’re in bed with your computer on your lap and your headphones in watching a movie. Wanda’s still asleep beside you, and you try not to disturb her as you watch your second favorite horror movie. You don’t notice her stir immediately because the best part of the movie has started, but once she groans and rolls onto her back, you pause it and take out your headphones.

“Hey there, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”

Wanda doesn’t answer immediately as she blinks the sleep out of her eyes. She’s exhausted and she feels a little drunk from her extended sleep. She feels the familiar ache in her side and she sighs heavily before scooting toward you with a yawn.

“Tired. What time is it?”

When you tell her it’s nearly 1, her eyes fly open and you think she’d going to jump out of bed. You reach out to stop her as you try to reassure her that she hasn’t missed anything important. You run your hand through her hair as you list off what you’d already checked on.

“It’s okay, Wands. No one’s called you, or me, or shown up demanding your presence. Today’s about relaxing, okay? For both of us.”

You smile as Wanda frowns slightly as she thinks about this. She’s still tired, and she’s sure you’re tired from all of your finals, and given that it’s Sunday she really doesn’t have anything pressing to do. As realization sets in, Wanda lies back down and sighs in defeat before she shoots your computer a curious look. She nearly rolls her eyes when she sees what movie you’re watching. Again.

“I will need to get out of bed for food at some point.”

Wanda watches as you close your computer quickly before tossing it aside with a smile. You shake your head as you move to get out of bed, but you don’t quite make it before Wanda grabs your arm to keep you from leaving.

“I made you some breakfast, but I can also make lunch instead if you’d rather have that.”

Wanda shakes her head before tugging on you lightly with a pout that makes you cave far too easily. You fall back into bed and Wanda moves closer to you with a smile.

“Thank you, but later. I want to cuddle now.”

You can’t help but laugh at this, but you don’t refuse as you get back under the covers and pull Wanda closer. You wonder if the people in Wanda’s life knew how snuggly she was. You decide not to bring it up as you lie down with a groan. You could honestly spend all day in bed. Your brain was mush and your body ached, and you finally had Wanda back. You couldn’t think of anywhere else that you’d rather be.

You don’t realize that you both fell asleep until you are woken up by the sound of knocking reverberating through the room. You groan in annoyance before you realize that Wanda is still asleep. You mutter a curse under your breath as you get out of bed and go to investigate. You close the door behind you before heading toward the sound of increasingly loud knocking. You glance at the clock in the kitchen and realize it’s almost 6. Time for dinner.

“Hi, can I help you?”

You’re unprepared for the person on the other side of the door when you open it. He’s tall, blonde and built like a solider, and you have no idea who he is. If he wasn’t smiling at you, you’d be thoroughly freaked out. That said, you’re on your way there when he speaks up.

“Hi, my name’s Steve. I’m looking for Wanda, is she here?”

You have several questions that you’d like answered before you answer his. How did he know that Wanda was here? Who was he? And why the hell hadn’t you grabbed your phone? You frown feigning confusion before you shake your head in response. You’re not sure if Wanda has ever mentioned a Steve, but that doesn’t matter at the moment. You don’t care who he is because unless someone is dying, Wanda isn’t going back to work today.

“Sorry, you’ve got the wrong place, Steve.”

Instead of appearing apologetic or defeated like you were hoping, he just continues to smile as he looks over your shoulder into your apartment. He knows that Wanda’s here. He followed her here to make sure she got here safely, and now there was a problem that Pietro needed help with. He didn’t want to bother Wanda who he figured was sleeping considering she wasn’t nearby, but he did need her. He sighs quietly before opening his mouth to ask again, but you beat him to it.

“Who did you say you were again? Are you a friend?”

He takes a minute to consider how he should answer this. He’s not sure how much Wanda’s told you. He only recently found out about your existence, but the fact that Wanda was here now is very telling. She must trust you, and like you a lot, but still, she’s probably only told you the bare minimum because she’s always been paranoid.

“Yes. We’re friends and we work together. Steve Rogers.”

The last name doesn’t mean much to you, but he holds out his hand to you, a smile still on his face. He seems genuine, but if being with Wanda has taught you anything, it is to be cautious, borderline paranoid really. Still, you don’t think this man means you any harm. Other than trying to take your girlfriend after you just got her back.

“Nice to meet you, Steve. I’m Y/n, but I’m guessing you already knew that?”

You shake his hand, dropping it quickly as he smiles guiltily at your question. You’re not going to think too much about that and you sigh in defeat before trying to figure out your next move.

“I did.”

“Great, well Wanda’s resting, and she’s going to keep resting at least until tomorrow, so…come back then please.”

Steve opens his mouth to argue, but you shut the door in his face. You know you’re being rude, but you’re not letting Steve stress Wanda out after she slept nearly 12 hours. She clearly needed the rest and you don’t want her running off anywhere only to hurt herself more. You head back to your bedroom and are relieved to see that Wanda is still asleep. You sigh before getting back into bed and trying to relax again.

This lasts for 30 seconds before you hear a phone start vibrating. It’s not yours and you look around only to find Wanda’s phone on a chair in the corner with her folded clothes. You grab it and see that it’s Steve and you sigh in defeat. You answer it and can’t help but smile as you walk back out into the living room.

“Hello?”

“I really need to talk to Wanda, Y/n. “

You sigh loudly before you hang up the phone and walk back to your front door. Unsurprisingly, Steve is still standing there with his phone in his hand and a slightly annoyed look. You shoot him one back before you try to strike a deal.

“What’s so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow? Is someone hurt?”

Steve thinks about this for a second before he shakes his head. He’s not going to tell you the details because you won’t understand since he doubts Wanda told you about what happened to her, but he can tell you’re just as stubborn as he feared when you just frown.

“No, no one is hurt. We just need to talk about next steps.”

“You mean after she killed a bunch of people?”

Steve’s not expecting you to say this and he hesitates before shaking his head. He realizes he’s lying to you though, but you don’t give him time to take it back. You tilt your head slightly before asking the last question you plan to. Unless the answer is yes, you’re not letting Steve leave here with Wanda.

“Is Wanda in danger?”

Steve considers lying, but he’s really no good at it and he can tell you’re probably too smart to fall for it. So he just sighs before shrugging slightly and telling the truth that does nothing to convince you.

“Not any more so than usual.”

You smile at this despite hating the truth of the words and you prepare to close the door again.

“Okay, well not to be rude Steve because it’s nice to meet you, but please leave. Wanda will call you tomorrow.”

Steve just sighs in defeat before he decides to call it quits for now. Pietro can figure this out until at least then, and he can tell short of forcing his way in, he’s not going to get to talk to Wanda. He just offers you a wave before leaving.

“Alright fine. Nice to meet you too, kid.”

You frown at the name, but don’t bother arguing as you shut and lock the door behind him. You sigh in relief before you walk back to your bedroom. That was far more stressful than you anticipated it would be, and you felt wiped out. You notice that Wanda’s shifted since you left, but she was still asleep which you were grateful for. You were not looking forward to try and explain what happened just yet. She needs to sleep, and unless something drastic happens and Wanda is truly needed for an emergency, you plan to keep her here with you for at least the rest of the day. You were promised today, and you’d be damned if it was taken from you.

You kiss Wanda’s forehead and smile widely when she grumbles in her sleep.

“Night, Wands.”

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #silver springs #silver springs drabble #mob au

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iamnmbr3 · 4 months ago

Note

For your ask game: Luna Lovegood

How I feel about this character

I have a huge soft spot for Luna and I really like her friendship with Harry.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

I don't really have any ships for her. I know Luna/Ginny is super popular but personally it doesn't resonate with me and I much prefer Ginny paired with other people. Given that Luna is one of the few people Harry feels comfortable sharing his feelings with a ship between them could be interesting postwar during the period of canon when Luna (according to the supplementary material) started to question some of her father's most outlandish beliefs. Moments like her knowing him well enough to recognize him when he has taken polyjuice could be super sweet in a romantic context too. But honestly I like them more as friends.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

LUNA AND HARRY FRIENDSHIP FTW!!! I love them so much. I love how Luna is one of the only people Harry opens up to - how she's able to comfort him post book 5 and how at the end of book 7 he chooses to sit next to her and she immediately understands how he feels and creates a distraction. I also love that she knows him so well she is able to recognize him even when he is using polyjuice potion in book 7. Iconic. I love the bond they share over the losses they experienced early in life and the experience of having been seen as outsiders. And I love how Luna's temperament and affect balance out Harry's.

I really enjoyed them going to Slughorn's party as friends too and Harry being so entertained by Luna unintentionally trolling everyone. Give me a postwar AU where everyone's after 'The Boy Who Lived Twice' and Harry's sick of it so he takes Luna as his date to everything - just as friends despite what the tabloids say. They undoubtedly run into Draco eventually and Luna probably just blurts out what all their respective close friends were thinking about them seeming to kind of have a thing for each other. Ron & Hermione are horrified but also desperately want to know the answer (and are afraid to know).

My unpopular opinion about this character

I'm not a huge fan of Draco and Luna just instantly being besties in the postwar period without any reference to any of the events in book 7. I mean, I do think Luna would be more likely to forgive him than some people and he was probably the nicest of her captors. But he still did participate - however miserably and unwillingly - in holding her and others captive. So it's not that I don't think they could be friends, just that it's weird when what happened gets forgotten.

Draco at least would probably feel really guilty about it and not just instantly be chatting with her and acting like nothing happened. And it would be understandable if she had trauma from that too. Though I would see her as being pretty sanguine about it and having some very Luna things to say that Draco probably doesn't know what to do with.

During 8th year someone's probably all 'you two know each other?!' and Luna's probably all 'oh yes. I lived in his cellar for several months during the war. He was definitely my favorite Death Eater. He used to sneak us extra food and water sometimes which was very nice of him. Though of course letting us all go would have been a lot nicer' and Draco's probably just standing there not sure if he's being insulted or not while Harry tries not to lose it in the background.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

We hear in the supplemental material that she eventually started to question some of her dad's beliefs. It would have been interesting if we saw a bit of that in canon. Also I'm curious what her reaction was when she found out her father tried to betray that Golden Trio to Death Eaters. I think this would be super interesting especially since, in a very different way, it would echo Draco's arc of coming to question some of the things he was taught by his parents. Could be something interesting to explore in a sideplot to a drarry fic or as a main plot to a short fic.

#i also think her housemates did not get called out enough for horrendously bullying her #Luna Lovegood #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #asks #ask game

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im-getting-help · 6 months ago

Text

Another day, another panic attack.

I honestly don't know what to do, I don't know what I can do. I can't work and my country is speedrunning economic ruin thanks to our lovely president who hates people and common sense in equal measure.

Even if I can get a job, which is almost impossible at this rate, I won't be able to keep it, I know, and that's IF I can get out of the panic state I enter every time I think about working.

I woke up today and the first thing I did was have a panic attack, and it's been like this for days now. I have to open YT and distract myself cause nothing else works except for completely disengage with reality.

I can't even do the essays and reading for uni cause I get paranoid and start doubting myself, and there we go again to the next panick attack or crying session. It's been only a month and i'm already late on assignments cause the only thing I want can to do is sleep.

Hello depression and anxiety, I did not missed you guys.

In november of last year, when our current president won the elections, I knew that everything was going to go to shit pretty quickly. Here we are, 1 kilo of potato is $1400 pesos. WHO CAN AFFORD THAT? We spent at least $400.000 pesos every month only in food cause everything is so expensive, we are in debt just to cover basic necessities.

And I wish I was fcking normal, I wish I could just pick up any job and go to work and make some money, but I can't.

Yeah, anyways, im going to make some tea and idk pray I guess(???) pray that some psychiatrists in this miserable island gives me a fcking appointment and takes my inability to maintain a job seriously instead of dismiss me with a "well, I think you just need therapy, good fcking luck :)"

#vent post #i dont fucking know #i hate this country #i mean it #everyone i know says that Argentina is so beautiful and rich with culture and its truw #but when they say things like the argentinians are so kind and helpful #IS SUCH A LIE #kind people wouldn'v vote for such a piece of shit president #whose leaving millions in absolute poverty #whose actively fighting to change the fcking constitution to fuck us all for profit #who wants to sell the country to the US and exchange our culture for 2 dollars and 20 cents #argentinians aren't kind #they're extroverted #they're cheery #they're charismatic #but they are not kind #no one who supports that stupid piece of shit can be kind

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aloneinthehellfire · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 1: The Girl

Raining Hellfire (Eddie's Version) | Part One

Word Count: 3751

Warnings: swearing, mentions of bullying, eddie's a little angsty but we already know this, fluffy fluffiness

[A/N: Me? Upset about RH ending and needing something else to fulfil that empty gap in my heart?

For real though, I thought it would be really cool to release the RH chapters set in Eddie's pov to give us a little more insight into his life and thoughts as the series progresses. If you guys find this boring, of course just let me know as I have other exciting projects lined up I just really wanted to fill in the time by bringing our beloved Eddie back to us one more time.

Okay enough chatting. Eddie lovers... this is for you.]

The Girl

Paired With RH1: Chapter 1: Flickering Lights

It’s the seventh day on the eleventh month of 1983 and Eddie Munson could safely say that this year… had not been his year.

Between his regularly scheduled ‘freak’ consequences and Wayne’s pay-dock, Eddie was having a miserable time trying to survive in the hell that is Hawkins.

In fact, he had been so overwhelmed with trying to chip in on rent that he had to extort to, well, illegal measures. And thanks to the Munson name, he was pretty good at it. Not that it was something to take pride in.

He was falling behind on work, rapidly lowering his grades by simply becoming too distracted. When he wasn’t dealing, he was keeping the trailer liveable. And when he wasn’t doing that, he’d be trying to keep his DnD club afloat in the sea of jocks trying to tear it down. It didn’t seem like a lot, but Eddie always struggled focusing on the real world. It’s why he loved Dungeons and Dragons so much; he could control a universe of his own making, maybe even be a hero from time to time. Nothing he’d ever achieve in his mundane existence.

So today wasn’t any different. It was a Monday which meant he had a scheduled English Lit class to attend. But, after Tommy H.’s oh so kind portrayal of how he would be able to strangle Eddie with his own hair if he kept growing it out, he surprisingly didn’t feel up to it.

He did is best to act like he didn’t care, but he seriously needed a break from the constant harassment. And his hair wasn’t even that long anyway. It certainly suited his face much better than that damn buzz-cut.

Checking the hallway for any teachers that might catch him, Eddie was relieved in the fact that he’d be working on his next Hellfire campaign instead of listening in on some boring lesson about Romeo and Juliet representing true love or whatever poetic bullshit they were tryna sell.

At least he would get some peace and quiet-

“OW!” Eddie rang out in a slightly higher pitched voice to usual, stumbling back and bracing himself against the wall. He clutched his head, blinking against the force that sent stars into his vision.

In his absolute haze of assuming the rest of his day would go smoothly, he ended up crashing straight into a reminder that this year absolutely sucked.

“I’m so, so, so sorry.” The person said hurriedly, wincing as they grabbed their head.

Eddie removes his hand as he groans to get a better look at whoever blazed straight into him.

“Well yeah I should hope-” His breath hitched as he looked down at a girl.

Now, normally he’d just shrug it off and try to be gentlemanly like Wayne always taught him. Which, always ended up with some snide remark like ‘ew, never in your dreams’ and he’d be on his merry way, too busy to care what someone thought.

And then he caught sight of this girl.

She sported a denim vest that instantly made him curious, covering what he assumed was some kind of graphic tee but he couldn’t get a good look at it. Once she removed her hand from her face, he saw just how prettyshe was. No, not pretty. Beautiful. She looked a little sheepish, mostly dazed, but he could only assume it was from the recent head injury. Eddie thanked whatever god was working in his favour that out of all the students in the school, he was lucky enough to crash into you.

It took him a second to snap out of his daze and he cleared his throat, extending a hand.

“You alright?” He asks quickly, but you just stare up at him, eyes wide. Instead, he starts waving his hand in front of your face. “Helloooo?”

“Sorry?” You blink, eyes shifting from the rings on his hand and he smiles.

“I asked if you were alright.” He reiterates. God, you really had his heart tightening with the way you tuck your hair behind your ears, smiling.

“I, uh, yeah. Well, um, yes.” You rambled, attempting to pick up your books hurriedly and avoiding his eyes.

Eddie crouches down in attempt to help. After all, he was partly to blame for this collision.

“As long as you’re sure.” He laughed, handing you a book. When you look up at him again and tentatively take the book from his hands, he almost swoons. Those eyes of yours were easy to get lost in.

Both of you slowly stood with you attempting to shuffle your books into a more comfortable manner. Eddie simply places his hands into his pockets, observing the way you tried to busy yourself, avoiding his eyes with a soft frown.

And then it hits him like a god damn truck carrying tonnes of bricks.

No one in this school liked him, much less girls. You looked nice enough, striking out from the way other girls dressed in this hell of a school, but he’s been fooled many times before. You looked like you wanted nothing to do with him. Jesus, you were actively avoiding him right in front of his very eyes.

He was stupid to even be thinking anything different.

“Look-”

“Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone.” He cuts you off, crossing his arms. It was sad, really, that he had to go day by day pretending to be stronger than he actually felt. It was a self-preservation tactic that always kicked in when he figured he was gonna get called a ‘freak’ again.

“What?” Your eyes are wide again, taken aback.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I get it. Avoid the freak or you’ll be thrown from your little group.”

“I…” Your brows furrow. It was cute. No, Eddie, he thought, stop it. “...what?”

He leaned in, looking around the hallway for any potential friends you might have lurking in the background before speaking.

“I get that you and the other clearly superior beings don’t like people like me or, well, just me. And seeing as I’ve never seen you around before, I will spare you the traumatising experience of having to admit that you and I bumped heads.” Eddie’s voice was low, a sound that always felt alien to him. Hopefully that’ll show whoever is most likely hiding around the corner that he couldn’t be messed with.

“I’m not with them.” You were shaking your head now, and his eyes fell to your journal.

He could only see your first name, but his eyebrow raised, confirming his thoughts. Of course it was the one girl that ended up ‘gossip of the year’ that he bumped into.

Freshman year was filled with horrible rumours, none that he ever believed since they were almost always started by Tommy and Carol and debunked days later. The one about you, however, wasn’t proved wrong over the years. No one knew exactly where you came from, or what you did to end up here in Hawkins, and you’ve never denied anything. In fact, he could only assume they were right.

“Ah. Y/n. I’ve heard quite a few rumours about you.” Eddie clicks his tongue, still on the lookout for Carol and her minions.

“What?” You seem startled, but he’s used to actresses by now.

“Hm. Yeah, you’re the one that’s trying to fit in with all the other pricks in here because you didn’t make it at your last school. So please, don’t use me as your way to prove your shallow heart to your glorious leaders.” He took a step back, raising his hands and cocking his head, waiting.

He expected a comeback, some kind of slur against him or at least a shrill laugh followed by a chorus of your friends revealing themselves. Or maybe a slap, considering everything that just spilled out of his mouth. What he didn’t expect was your face to drop, knuckles whitening as you gripped tightly onto your books. Pursed lips replaced your soft smile, lowering your head in attempt to hide yourself. The once sweet confusion now laced with hidden anger.

“Fuck you.” You said with teary eyes, barging past him and his eyes widen. Shit.

“Wait!” He yells after you, immediate regret setting in as he watches your form disappear down the hall.

Eddie wanted nothing more than to follow you, but he knew that route led you straight to the girls’ bathroom. Instead, he stood with a dumbfounded look on his face, heart racing.

How did he assume so wrong?

The rest of the day had him conflicted.

Why should he care how you reacted? Would you have even cared if he was the one upset?

As Eddie wanders towards the benches hidden behind the school, he finds himself thinking about you yet again. Ugh. It was frustrating, knowing that there was no possible way to get you out of his head despite making the worst impression ever. He wasn’t even sure you’d give him a second chance.

And, in an incredibly freaky turn of events, he sees you sat upon the bench in the distance, placing a pair of headphones over your ears before casually laying back with your legs dangling down.

Eddie pauses. You look like you wanted to be left in peace, and his presence would surely disrupt that. But there was also this nagging part of his brain that made him realise this could be his chance to make things right.

Adjusting his leather jacket, he takes in a deep breath and heads towards you. He ignored that anxiety that built in his stomach, pushing it away just as he approaches the bench, hands locked behind his back as he swung back and forth on his feet to wait for your attention.

He can just hear the music blaring from your Walkman, your foot mindlessly tapping along to the beat. Eddie realises there’s no way you’re gonna notice him anytime soon.

“Hello?” He nervously calls out, with a little wave. Nothing.

Eddie huffs, realising that the longer he stood here unnoticed, the creepier it was.

“Yoo-hoo?” He lurches his body forward before stepping back and straightening himself, voice a little louder this time to ensure you’ll hear him. Yet again, nothing.

Maybe this was his sign to leave you be. Unluckily for him, he never really listened to that voice that told him to stop making a fool of himself.

In a moment of definitely not thought through decision-making, he strides right up to you and gently slips the headphones off of your head.

As he stands there holding them, he feels his face go red. Why the hell did he do that?

“What the hell?” You sit up straight, squinting against the sun that blared behind him.

Eddie laughed nervously. “Sorry, I did say hello but your music was too loud- wait, what even is this?”

He held it up to one ear, hearing a slow beat of a song he would never willingly listen to himself. He managed to catch a snippet of the song.

I hope that it won’t end, though

Alone-

“None of your business.” You say, snatching the headphones from his hands. Your eyes drift to the rings on his hands, a wave of acknowledgement washes across your face.

“Keeping it to yourself. That’s cool, very mysterious.” He said with a chuckle, attempting to diffuse the situation before it got any worse.

Your face warps into that of anger yet again, glaring at him.

“What do you want?” You ask defensively, pushing down on your Walkman and the faint melody comes to a sudden halt. You clutched your Walkman before stuffing it back in your bag, and Eddie realises you’re about to leave.

“Hey!” He said, waving his arms to stop what you were doing, “I just wanted to talk. About earlier.”

He crossed his arms against his torso, looking at the ground. This was his one shot to actually prove to you that he wasn’t a bad guy. Apologies weren’t his strength at all, but was going to try his best.

“I didn’t mean to be dick to you. Or insult you. I just…” He paused, walking around the space as he thought of what to say, “I get pretty guarded when I speak to someone. You spend so long as ‘The Freak’ that you get used to being treated like ass and I wasn’t in the mood for it today.”

“I-” You began, setting your bag down.

“No,” Eddie shakes his head as he continues his short pace, fingers nervously tapping against his chin, “I was an idiot and I insulted you. Which wasn’t cool of me at all, I don’t even know you and I was just as much of a judgemental asshole as the rest of them so I’m so very, very, sorry.”

As you stared up at him, he tried not to notice the way the sun made your eyes shine, Eddie held his breath in anticipation. As a rookie at this apology business, he wasn’t even sure it was worth your forgiveness. Maybe he’d just have to try harder. Or avoid you for the rest of high school. Whichever was easier.

“I like your rings.”

Your words caught him off guard. His head whips up to you as you seem to only just recoil at the statement you just blurted. And, when you started rambling, he couldn’t resist a grin spreading across his face. You looked cute when you were flustered.

“Sorry, I just didn’t know what to say and I didn’t want there to be this awkward silence because, like, the more awkward it gets the more I want to be silent but then that just makes it more awkward and I…” You notice his amused expression, “I was rambling wasn’t I?”

“No, no it’s fine, it was cute.” He blurted. The colour rushed to his cheeks and he tried to laugh it off, but it was only making things weirder. You simply lower your head to smile before meeting his eyes again.

“I’m sorry too.” You shrug, fiddling with the bottom of your vest. “That’s what I wanted to say… that I was sorry. I get it, the whole people treating you like shit thing. I get that too…”

Eddie tried his hardest to listen to your every word, but his eyes began drifting down to your lips. God, even they were pretty. Everything about you was just perfect.

Once your lips stop moving, he quickly shifts his gaze and looks at you, your expectant stare. He hadn’t listened to whatever question you must have asked.

“Huh?” He manages to say. God, he hoped you didn’t notice his earlier fascination.

“That thing you said, about the rumour. Do people really say that?” Your voice goes quiet and you anxiously nibble on your bottom lip. Eddie makes sure to revert his eyes from your mouth as he quickly shakes his head.

“No, no, no…” He comforts, shifting to sit atop the bench beside you and bringing his hands in front of him to twiddle the rings on his left hand around, “Well, not exactly.”

“What do they say?” Your question was expected, but Eddie felt a twinge in his gut to have to be the one to explain it to you. He didn’t want to be the cause again of the sadness your face could show.

You raise your eyebrow at his silence. “Seriously tell me. At least if I know I can prepare myself for when Tommy and his band of walking cliches come for me.”

Eddie sighs, shifting in his seat. You had a very good point, at least. And he was happy to know that you felt exactly the same way about the high school royalty that he did. You deserved the truth.

“I haven’t heard much,” He finally says, tilting his head towards you, “But I heard people say all sorts of crazy stuff when you first appeared. Something about you being sent away because your parents didn’t want you. And one about you only being friends with that Wheeler girl because you wanted in to the hoard of wannabes.”

“Oh.” That’s all you say, and his stomach drops.

“I don’t believe them!” He raises both his hands, and you smile at that.

“No, don’t worry it’s… fine. At least I know now.” You quickly added. As he looked at you, he knew for a fact that those rumours were far from the truth. He could see that you were someone who prided themselves on individuality rather than association.

Which is why he didn’t tell you the other rumour he heard. Maybe it was just his heart protecting him just in case it was true. But he wanted to protect you just a little longer from it.

“Anyway,” Eddie quickly changes the subject, “I never got to formally introduce myself when I made the most awful first impression in the world.”

He gets up to stand in front of you, bowing so theatrically that you began to giggle, making his chest flutter.

“Eddie Munson, at your service.” He returns from his bow, flipping his head back, and extends a hand towards you. He figured he could keep the joke running long enough to keep seeing that smile on your face. “And you are?”

“You already know my name.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Shh, pretend I don’t, I’m trying something here.”

“Okay, I’m Y/n, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Eddie.” You take his hand, and your touch burned his skin in the best way.

“Pleasure is all mine, Y/n.” He pretended to kiss your hand, figuring that kind of contact was way too soon,before gently dropping it and sitting on the grass in front of you.

Eddie stretches his legs and uses his arms to prop himself up, cocking his head in curiosity at your response.

“No last name there Y/n?”

“Not something I use very often.” You shrug as if it were merely a passing fact about you, but Eddie could sense how uncomfortable you felt about it. “I’m thinking of dropping it completely, like Madonna or Prince.”

Rather than pester, he nods away with a warm smile. “I like it, make a statement.”

“Exactly.” You grin, and Eddie knows for sure he did it. He actually did something right for once.

“So… if you don’t mind me asking…” Eddie felt a little shy to be asking you this, but he couldn’t help but be curious. He wanted to know everything about you. “Why do Tommy and Carol hate you so much?”

You give him a little shrug, assessing words in your mind. “I guess Barbie and Ken didn’t like that I wasn’t into wearing pink.”

He chuckles at your comment, shaking his head.

“When I first moved here,” You continue, scrunching your nose at the word ‘moved’ like it was painful, “I ended up at a party some girl was advertising to me in a store. I didn’t know anyone so I wanted to make friends, try and start a new life.”

Something flashes across your face before you’re suddenly smiling, avoiding his eyes. “Basically made the wrong impression. Didn’t fit into their world. That sort of stupid stuff.”

“Thank god.” Eddie replies and you raise your eyebrows. “Imagine actually having to pretend you care about ‘daddy’s getting me a new car’.”

He mimicked an extremely girly voice that had you laughing as your face twists in disgust.

“Ew, don’t even joke about that.”

The conversation continued for a long time, exchanging opinions on certain teachers, mostly laughing at how no one really understands that high school isn’t forever. But he was lying if he said he didn’t understand them now. If he could sit here under the filtered shine of the sun blaring through the trees with you forever, he’d give up anything.

After a while, a wave of comfortable silence fell across you both, your eyes drifting to look into the distance with a peaceful expression. Eddie couldn’t stop staring at you. You were like some sort of goddess, sat in the natural glow of the sun rays.

A slight shift in your demeanour wouldn’t have been noticeable if Eddie wasn’t so mesmerised by every little thing he could possibly observe about you.

“What time is it?” You asked, looking at the watch on his wrist with a smile that shone through your attempt at tightened lips.

Eddie peels his eyes away for a moment to read his watch, nodding. “It’s about… 5.”

“Oh shit I’m late!” You suddenly gasp, grabbing your bag and hopping off the bench.

Eddie finds himself on his feet, following your movements. Here’s your chance, Eddie, he tells himself, slowly closing the space between you.

“For what?” He questioned as he looked down into your eyes. It took everything in him not to lean down and take your lips in his. Was it too soon?

“I was meant to be meeting Nancy to study like 20 minutes ago!” You exasperate before scrunching your face in the most adorable manner. “My god, I think she might actually kill me.”

“Ah well, that sounds… fun.” He smiled, leaning against the bench. You were intoxicating up close.

“Yeah, I can’t wait for her to scream at me about hydrogen atoms.” You smirk, adjusting the strap of your bag as you stepped away from him. Eddie lowered his head, silently cursing to himself. Of course she wasn’t gonna kiss you, you idiot, she probably doesn’t even like you-

You stopped yourself much to his surprise, turning back to look at him. “Thank you. For coming to apologise. I’m glad you did.”

“Me too.” He smiled again, grabbing part of his hair to cover his face in hopes of hiding how red his cheeks were burning, “Now go, I would hate to find that you were brutally murdered by a science book.”

You laughed, saying a quick goodbye and sprinting toward the bike rack in front of the school.

Part of him wanted to just grab your hand and pull you back to him as he watched your form become smaller and smaller the further you were from him. It was like you gave him life when you were close to him, made him feel the best he had ever felt.

Eddie couldn’t believe that he was already this head-over-heels for someone he barely knew.

Huh, Eddie thinks to himself, smiling, maybe this year has only just begun.

Chapter 2: Resident Freak ->

[I wanted to tag everyone who was involved in RH but wasn't sure if you'd be interested in basically re-reading everything again so let me know who wants to be in this tag list or if you guys think I should scrap this completely? Even so, can we all agree how adorable Eddie is in RH1. Crying.]

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things reader insert #raining hellfire #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson #st1 #stranger things 1

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papermonkeyism · 2 years ago

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For the new year, I wish I'll get to hang out with people again.

This past year has been, frankly, pretty miserable, specially since early summer-ish when my DnD group went on a months long break. Wasn't the first one, nor the last one, but definetely the worst one. Don't really have other friends locally, aside from one old school mate.

Honestly it's been pretty bad ever since the start of the pandemic when we stopped hanging out outside of DnD sessions and my fave coffee places closed down along with couple of my fave restaurants, and I just... Stopped having a social life, but now it's so much worse. As said, I have one (1) friend outside of the group I sometimes go shopping with, and one of my DnD buddies hangs out with me maybe once a week to borrow my laundry machine for couple hours, and they are probably the only reasons I haven't broken completely so far.

But neither of them are storytelling people the same way I am, so I'm kinda holding back when we hang out, as I can't really go all in with my special interests on them.

Downsides of being socially awkward introvert.

The summer break from roleplaying was a trigger for anxiety and maybe the worst creative block of my life so far. As someone who basically thinks with a sketchbook it was pretty fucking stressful not being able to draw anything for several months!

I crave creation and storytelling, but my brain is made of goo. Like imagine if someone came and asked you to pick a water from a pool and hand it to them? But it's liquid! Can I get a cup or something, but they just scoff. You got hands, right, just pick one up and hand it over. So I'm just left trying to scoop handfuls of wet and grabbing nothing. Kinda how it feels.

Started marathoning Crit Role to distract myself from the worst of it and to have at least some kind of creative energy in my life, and consumed what must be over half a thousand hours of role playing. At least that was fun!

And when nights started stretching and seasonal depression started to creep into my already not-doing-good brain I started my routine of evening walks because at some point I was legitimately going stir crazy enough to explode otherwise.

It's also been my first full year of joblessness in a long while. I was already having hard time by the end of last year, because my brain has difficulty handling full time jobs for long stretches of time, and ten months in a row not being able to recharge was starting to weight on me, so I had made a plan to get my brain sorted out with the ADHD diagnosis and hopefully medication before applying for jobs again, but turns out the process took the entire year, and then some, and I still don't have the meds yet. I have been given the thumbs up on them, but turns out me stressing for the better part of a year has triggered blood pressure problems (runs in my family, so honestly probably just a matter of time, but it's still very inconvenient to happen right now), so I have to sort that out first before it's safe to try stimulant medication.

And then there was the death in the family and a close friend's cancer diagnosis (fingers crossed!) and I just haven't had a great time, you know.

January's going to go into medical stuff in the hope of getting the ADHD meds, so maybe I could one day grab those thoughts again. The unemployment office is also pestering me again, so we'll see how that'll go.

I think I'll see if I can make myself a regular at the new cat cafe in town. Cats make everything better. Also looking forwards to actualizing a tattoo plan or two! Springtime is coming too, eager to continue my evening walk routine with returning sunlight. And I really, really, really need to create something again.

So here's for what I sincerely hope to be a better year than this past one! Cheers.

#shut up paper

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spnhunter4life · 2 years ago

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So Long Version 2 Chapter 4

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this one. Sweet, protective Dean is the best.

Series Masterlist

Ages 16 and 17 December 3, 1996

I groggily opened my eyes, trying to determine what had woken me up and then realized it was the pounding on the adjoining door.

“Jenna?” I heard Sam call. “We were supposed to leave five minutes ago. Are you coming?”

Right. School. Well there’s no way I was going while I was feeling like this. My nose was so stuffed up I couldn’t breathe, my whole body ached, and I was so cold I actually wondered if the door had been left open to the winter air all night.

“I’m not coming today,” I said as loudly as I could manage. My head was pounding, and raising my voice would only make it worse.

“What?” Sam asked, opening the door and peeking his head in.

“I’m not going to school today,” I repeated.

“Are you ok?” He asked, brow wrinkling in concern.

“I think I caught that flu that’s been going around,” I told him miserably.

“That sucks,” he said sympathetically. “Do you need anything before we go?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks, Sam.” He left the room and I curled up in a ball under the covers, trying to warm up.

I thought that would be the end of it, but about a minute later Dean was walking into the room.

“Sam says you’re sick,” he said, clearly already in full caretaker mode.

“Go to school Dean. I can manage by myself for a few hours,” I told him as firmly as I could.

“I don’t mind staying here for a day to take care of you,” he told me, walking over to sit on the edge of my bed.

“I know you don’t, but you really don’t need to. Besides, you have to take Sam anyway, so you might as well just stay there,” I said, trying to reason with him. He looked unconvinced, but nodded in agreement anyway.

“If you’re sure. Do you want me to at least call your dad?” He asked. We’d been here for about a month and a half so far. John and Dad had been able to continually find hunts close by, so instead of moving to a new school again, we were staying put. They were currently a few towns away and wouldn’t be back for at least another week. “I really don’t like leaving you alone.”

“No, don’t. If you call him he’s going to think it’s worse than it is and he’ll either be distracted during the hunt or he’ll come back here, which really isn’t necessary.”

Dean stood up and walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle.

“Promise you’ll call me if you need anything,” he insisted, patting his pocket where he kept the cell phone his dad had left us for emergencies.

“I promise.”

~~~~~

When the boys got home from school that afternoon, they immediately came to my room.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked as he and Sam walked over to me. I was nestled into the couch, doing my best to stay warm under a throw blanket, some movie I wasn’t paying attention to playing on TV.

“Cold,” I replied. I had already put on a second pair of socks that morning in my attempt to warm up and when that hadn’t helped I’d gone into the boys’ room and stolen one of Dean’s oversized sweatshirts. That plus my pair of sweatpants and the blanket and I still felt like my teeth could start chattering any second.

“Here,” Sam said as he grabbed the comforter off of my bed and placed it on top of me.

“Did you eat anything today?” Dean asked.

“Not hungry,” I told him.

“You can’t just not eat,” Sam said as he walked over to the kitchen. “I’ll make you a piece of toast.”

“Have you had anything to drink today,” Dean asked, continuing his evaluation. I sheepishly shook my head.

“Jenna,” he sighed. “If you want me to leave you here alone when you’re sick, you have to do a better job of taking care of yourself. Sam, get her a big glass of water too,” he instructed.

He gently placed the back of his hand against my forehead, checking for a fever.

“And some Ibuprofen,” he added. “So you’re cold and not hungry. Any other symptoms?” He asked me.

“My nose is stuffed,” I told him.

“I can tell,” he said with a small smile.

“And everything hurts,” I admitted.

“Well the Ibuprofen should help with that at least,” he said as Sam came back over

“Here you go,” he said as he handed everything over. I sat up to take everything from him.

“Is that my sweatshirt?” Dean smiled as the blanket fell off my shoulders.

“I told you, I’m cold,” I defended, taking a small nibble of my toast.

“I’m not mad,” he assured me. “I think it’s cute.” I blushed. “I want that whole glass of water gone in the next 15 minutes,” he told me sternly. “And then I’m getting you another one that better be gone by supper.”

I managed to eat the whole piece of toast and finished the glass of water as instructed. I curled back under the blanket while Dean left to refill my water. Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, books spread out before him.

“Are you warming up yet?” Dean asked when he returned with more water.

When I shook my head in answer, he sat beside me, settling himself under the blankets and as close to my side as he could.

“Dean, I don’t want to get you sick,” I protested.

“If I’m gonna get sick, I’m gonna get sick. I’m already surrounded by your germs, I don’t see this making much difference,” he told me.

Sighing, I moved to rest my head on his shoulder. It took about 10 minutes for me to finally start warming up for the first time that day.

~~~~~

The next day was much the same. The boys had slept in my room last night, despite my protests that I would be fine on my own. Dean slept in my dad’s unused bed and Sam slept in mine, bringing in the comforter from his own bed. I stayed on the couch. I had tossed and turned all night and was exhausted.

Dean asked if I wanted him to stay home from school to take care of me. I told him not to. This time he brought me a large glass of water before leaving and told me I’d better keep myself hydrated today.

I took a bath around 1, hoping the warm water would soothe my aching muscles and warm me up. After soaking for about 20 minutes, the heat finally seemed to seep into my body and ease the chill I couldn’t escape.

I was feeling a little better when I got out an hour later, the warmth being a much needed boost to my mental state, but I still ached all over. After getting redressed in my warm clothes, I took a couple of Ibuprofen and tried to sleep before the chills came back.

The rumble of the Impala’s engine is what caused me to give up on my fitful attempt at a nap. I was shivering under the blankets and hadn’t managed more than 20 minutes of sleep.

The boys came in and fussed over me. They were both pleased to hear I’d drank some water today, but I still hadn’t eaten anything. Sam made me another piece of toast and grabbed a container of yogurt for me to eat too.

Dean curled up with me under the blankets again and I sighed, grateful for his warmth. His body heat radiated off of him directly into my side where we were pressed together and the blanket kept the heat trapped.

If I hadn’t been feeling so terrible I might have shied away from this level of closeness. We were very comfortable with physical contact, but this was more than the casual touches I was used to. The closest we had ever come to cuddling in the past was Dean’s arm slung across the back of the couch behind my head when we watched movies. And he wasn’t actually touching me when he did that.

The realization of how close we were was something I wouldn’t process until later when I was feeling better, but for now I just appreciated the comfort he so easily provided me.

~~~~~

“Where’s Dean?” I asked on the third day, spotting Sam sitting at the table reading a book.

Dean had skipped school today. No matter how much I protested, even when I told him I was feeling a little better, he told me he refused to leave me by myself again. He dropped Sam off and came straight back to the motel. He’d kept me company all day and made sure I drank plenty of water. I was even starting to get my appetite back a little bit. I’d managed to eat half a peanut butter sandwich and a few crackers.

I’d fallen asleep shortly before he left to pick Sam up. I halfway sat up in the spot on the couch that had become my semi-permanent residence – a place I left only when my bladder made it absolutely necessary – and looked around the room.

“He went to the store,” Sam told me. “He should be back any minute. Are you feeling any better?” he asked.

"If you wanted to put some poison in my water or something I wouldn't complain," I told him. This might be a bit dramatic, but honestly, if this was going to be the state of my life from now on, then life really wasn't worth living.

“Can’t help you there. I just used the last of my poison last week on my friend Ethan. He had the flu too,” he told me seriously. “Besides,” he continued, switching to a teasing tone, “I don’t have a death wish. Can you imagine what Dean would do to me if he came back and found you dead?”

“I don’t know what to tell you Sam. I guess you need to do a better job of covering your tracks,” I told him. He smiled.

“Seriously though, how are you doing?” He asked again.

I sighed and sat up the rest of the way, noticing the comforter was back on me. I’d started taking it off when Dean was sitting with me, partly so he wasn’t quite so overheated and partly because the throw blanket was enough when combined with his furnace-like body temperature. He must have covered me back up when he left to get Sam.

“I’m doing better,” I told him. “I still can’t seem to keep myself warm, but the migraine and muscle aches are a lot better. My appetite is starting to come back too.”

“Yeah, Dean said you actually ate something today. That’s good. Hopefully you’ll be better tomorrow,” he said.

“Hopefully,” I agreed as we heard the Impala pull up.

A minute later Dean came in the door, hands full with grocery bags, immediately looking towards the couch.

“Hey, you’re up!” he said cheerfully. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good, actually,” I told him, looking at the clock and realizing I’d slept soundly for about an hour and half.

“I’m glad to hear it. You definitely need to catch up on your sleep,” he said as he unpacked the groceries. “I hope you’re still hungry. I got stuff to make chicken noodle soup,” he told me.

That did actually sound really good. I told him as much.

“Good. I’ll get it started,” he said, grabbing a big pot from the cupboard above the stove. “I got some more Ibuprofen too if you need some,” he told me offhandedly. “I noticed we were about out.”

“I’m good. Thanks, though,” I said, not for the first time grateful for his thoughtfulness and attention to detail when it came to taking care of people.

“Do you want some help?” Sam offered his brother, already getting up from the table.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m sure Jenna wouldn’t mind you sitting with her and keeping her warm until I’m done though,” Dean said, looking at me for confirmation.

“Actually, I was just thinking about taking a shower,” I told them as I tossed the blankets onto the couch beside me. I hadn’t showered in three days and I was starting to feel really gross.

“Aww, you hear that Sammy? She doesn’t want to sit with you,” Dean teased.

“You know that’s not it,” I told Sam as I looked to make sure he wasn’t offended.

“I know,” he assured me, waving off his brother’s joke.

I was already getting cold without the blankets, so I hurried off to the bathroom, leaving Sam to his book and Dean to his soup preparation. Closing the door behind me, I immediately turned the water on, setting it to a nice warm temperature, before undressing and stepping in. I let out a content sigh as the hot water hit me.

As I was working on combing the tangles out of my hair, I realized that in my rush to get in the shower, I hadn’t brought any clean clothes with me. Crap. Now what? I considered my options.

I could put on the clothes I’d been wearing for the last three days. I quickly discarded that idea. Though I’d been cold, I’d still been sweating. I wasn’t putting those clothes back on. It would completely defeat the purpose of showering.

I could walk out into the room in my towel to grab my duffel bag. I didn’t like that option much more than the first. While I would be completely covered, something about them seeing me in nothing but a towel, Dean especially, felt extremely… intimate. It wasn’t something I was comfortable with.

I heard a muffled conversation through the bathroom door as I tried to figure out a third option. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I could hear them talking. I could hear Sam saying something in an exasperated voice when it occurred to me.

“Sam?” I called as I rinsed the conditioner from my hair.

“Yeah?” he called back, sounding like he was standing just outside the door.

“I forgot to grab my bag. Could you get it for me?” I asked.

“Yeah, no problem,” he told me before his footsteps retreated. I heard more muffled conversation, a door opening and then closing a few seconds later, and finally a knock on the door.

“Here you go,” Sam said as he opened the door and I heard the thump of my bag being set down.

“Thanks, Sam.”

“No problem,” he repeated. The door closed. I stayed in the shower for a few more minutes, appreciating the hot water, before steeling myself to get out into the cold.

I pulled the curtain back, grabbed my towel, and started drying my hair. Once it was no longer dripping, I moved to my duffel bag to find some clothes. I felt a rush of warmth in my chest at the sweatshirt that was laying on top of it. Another one of Dean’s.

Once I was dressed, I spent a few minutes blow drying my hair. I normally didn’t bother, but I didn’t need water dripping down my back for the next hour when I was already cold. I stepped out of the bathroom and saw that the brothers had been busy.

Dean had finished putting the soup together and it was currently sitting on the stove to cook. The blankets I had been using for the past three days were in the corner designated for dirty laundry, and new ones – presumably out of the boys’ currently unused room – were waiting for me on the couch.

Sam and Dean were sitting on either end of the couch, The Untouchables on the TV screen, paused at the beginning. It was one of four movies we had, so we’d seen it a lot, but it was one of Dean’s favorites. Sam and I weren’t tired of it yet either.

Dean patted the spot next to him, and I sat down, curling into his side as he wrapped a blanket around me.

“Feeling better?” He asked.

“Much,” I sighed. “It feels so good to be clean. Thanks for the sweatshirt,” I added as an afterthought.

“You’re welcome,” Sam and Dean responded at the same time, looking at each other in surprise.

“It’s my sweatshirt,” Dean told Sam.

“Yeah, but I’m the one who grabbed it for her,” Sam argued.

“Because I told you to,” Dean countered.

“This is a ridiculous argument,” I said, lightly hitting Dean’s chest and nudging Sam with my foot. “I was thanking both of you anyway, so can we just watch the movie?” Sam scowled, but agreed and pressed play.

~~~~~

We were about three quarters of the way through the movie, soup eaten and bowls dumped in the sink, when there was a knock at the door.

We all looked at each other, confused and a little on edge. Dean’s arm tensed around me and Sam started walking to the bed, going for the knife Dean hid under his pillow.

“Jenna?” The person outside called.

I immediately relaxed. It was just Bailey.

“Let her in,” I told Sam who had paused a foot from the bed. He obeyed, looking through the peephole before opening the door.

Bailey was standing there, as expected, as well as Dylan. The three of us had become pretty close in my time here. I always had friends wherever we went, but I didn’t usually connect with people the way I had with them. They were definitely the best friends I’d made at any school, and we spent a lot of time together outside of class.

“Hey guys,” I greeted as they made their way into the room, stopping a few feet away from the couch. “What are you doing here?”

“Well you haven’t been in school for three days, so we wanted to check on you,” Dylan explained.

“Yeah. I mean at first we just assumed you were sick. But after three days we started to worry,” Bailey added.

“Three days isn’t an unusual amount of time to be sick,” I pointed out.

“No, but then Dean was gone today too,” Bailey said, a smug little glint in her eye as she looked at me. “So we wondered if maybe you guys had left town.”

“Nope. Still here,” I said unnecessarily.

“Good,” Dylan said, slinging a bag off his shoulders and moving to sit in the armchair. “Because we brought homework.”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Dean said, standing up and throwing the second blanket over me before making his way to his own room. “Come on Sam,” he called over his shoulder. Sam sighed, but followed Dean out.

“Thanks,” I told them, genuinely thankful they’d thought to get my homework for me, but also not looking forward to having to do it. Bailey grabbed a chair from the table and set it next to the couch.

“So,” Dylan said casually as he took everything out of his bag. “Anything you want to tell us?” He asked teasingly.

“Um… no?” I said, confused.

“Are you sure?” Bailey continued for him. “No new developments you want to share?”

They both looked at me expectantly. I quickly scanned the room, looking for anything that might stand out to them. Not seeing anything, I just slowly shook my head.

“No, nothing. Why? Is there something new with you guys?” I asked, thinking maybe this was their way of segueing into giving me some type of exciting news. They just looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“I can’t tell if you’re just stubbornly ignoring it, or genuinely oblivious to what we’re saying,” Dylan told me.

“And if that’s the case, it really makes me question if you’ve been telling us the truth,” Bailey said.

“The truth about what?” I asked, starting to get frustrated.

“You and Dean looked awfully cozy,” Bailey stated, not beating around the bush anymore.

I blushed. Oh, right. That. I thought.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I told them, not wanting them to make too many assumptions. They knew very well how I felt about Dean.

“Well how about you let me tell you what it looks like, and then you can tell me if it’s right or not?” Bailey said. She didn’t wait for my answer before continuing. “It looks like you’ve been sick for a few days. When Dean didn’t show up to school today, it looked like he might have gotten sick too, if you guys hadn’t just up and left. Now that we’ve seen him, I think we’re in agreement that he’s not sick?” Bailey looked to Dylan for confirmation.

“He didn’t look sick,” Dylan agreed.

“So, it looks like Dean stayed here to take care of you. Now the way the two of you were cuddled up together,” she mused, smirking at me. “That looked like two people who were very comfortable with each other. In a more than friends way. Which looks like either you haven’t been entirely truthful about the status of your relationship with him or there have been new developments. Am I missing anything?” She asked Dylan.

“No, that about covers it I think,” Dylan said.

“I know exactly how it looks,” I started.

“Of course you do because we just told you,” Dylan cut in. “So which is it?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Were you not telling us the truth before about you two – which I don’t find likely, by the way – or has something new happened?” He asked. I could tell they were both excited for me. They had spent plenty of time talking with me about Dean, and they knew how crazy I was about him.

“Neither,” I told them, seeing immediately that they were unconvinced. “Seriously,” I insisted. “Dean is a total mother hen, especially when one of us gets sick,” I explained. “If you don’t believe me, there’s a pot of homemade soup in the fridge. Dean never cooks. None of the guys do.”

“That doesn’t explain why you were practically in his lap,” Bailey fired back.

“Okay, first of all, that’s a huge exaggeration,” I said. Bailey snorted. “It is! We were sitting next to each other, that’s not ‘in his lap.’ Dylan, back me up here!” I pleaded.

“Well…” he looked between us, considering his answer carefully. “I do think that was a bit of an exaggeration,” he said.

“Ha!” I shot at Bailey.

“But,” he continued, “you were pretty snuggled up with him. More than you realize, I think.”

“Ha!” Bailey shot back.

“Whatever,” I conceded. “It’s still not what you think. I’ve just been really cold. As you might notice,” I pointedly waved the corner of the blanket. “He’s just been sitting with me to help me stay warm.”

“You still looked awfully comfortable with each other,” Bailey said, not ready to entirely give up.

“Because we are,” I said exasperatedly. “I told you about how we constantly travel and our dads aren’t around much. The three of us are pretty much all we have. People in that sort of situation tend to be pretty close.”

“I guess,” Bailey sighed.

“So do you guys cuddle like that a lot?” Dylan asked, moving on, but not entirely changing the subject. I blushed again.

“No,” I told him without elaborating.

“Honestly?” he pressed. “You know you can tell us. We won’t judge. Plus, I’d say that would be a good sign-”

“Really. This is the first time we’ve ever… cuddled.” I told him, not wanting to hear another speech listing all the reasons the two of them were certain Dean liked me back. Despite their intentions, it really wasn’t helpful. It could really only mean one of two things.

One, they were reading into things. They were wrong and he didn’t like me back. Or two, they were right. He did like me. But it didn’t matter because he clearly had no intentions of doing anything about it. I didn’t know which was worse.

“So,” Bailey cut in, breaking the growing tension. “Tell us all about mother hen Dean.”

I smiled and told them about how I’d spent the last few days. They updated me on the goings on at school and then gave me a quick rundown of the homework, telling me to let them know if I got stuck on anything. I thanked them and we said our goodbyes.

Either through eavesdropping – I sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case – or, the more likely option, watching out the window, Sam and Dean knew when my friends left and immediately came back into the room.

“You want to finish the movie?” Dean asked as he moved a pile of papers onto the coffee table. Sam settled himself back on his end of the couch and Dean pulled me back into his side.

“Yeah, sounds good,” I said, resting my head on his chest. I was much more aware of our position after Bailey and Dylan’s visit, but I decided to enjoy the closeness while it lasted.

When the movie was over, Sam went to the kitchen to grab some snacks while Dean flipped through the channels on TV. Sam came back with beef jerky, Doritos, microwavable popcorn and a bottle of water for me. I wasn’t hungry, but accepted the water.

Dean stopped on a channel playing some old western movie. As he settled his arm around me, I decided that I would happily spend every night like this.

Ages 16 and 17 December 11, 1996

"Oh good, you're back." I called to my dad when I heard the door to our room close behind me. "I was just leaving you a note," I told him, dropping the pen I'd been using and turning to face him. "Oh. Dean. I thought you were my dad."

"So I gathered," he said, looking over my outfit. "You look nice," he said. "Why do you look nice?" He continued before I could thank him for the compliment.

"Uh… I'm going out with some friends. What's up?" I asked, a little distracted as I finished the note for Dad.

"Well I just came to see if you wanted to do something tonight. I guess not though. What friends exactly?" He questioned, sitting on the table next to where I was writing.

“The usual ones,” I told him, finishing the note and moving to the bathroom to double check my hair.

“Try again,” Dean said as he followed me.

“I’m sorry?” I asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“You’re not going out with friends dressed like that,” he said.

I looked at my outfit in the mirror. I didn’t see anything objectionable about the tan sweater and black leggings combo.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I asked.

“Nothing. I already told you, you look nice. I’m just saying that’s not what you usually wear to hang out with friends,” he said pointedly.

“And I can’t try something new?” I snapped. I left the bathroom, pushing past where he stood in the doorway and grabbed my coat off my bed.

“Why are you getting so defensive?” Dean asked.

“Why are you suddenly so worried about who I hang out with?” I shot back.

“I’m not worried about it. But it’s a date, right? I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just tell me that. Why lie about it?” he wondered.

I sighed. I felt bad about snapping at him. I didn’t mean to, I was just feeling really anxious about tonight. Dean wasn’t entirely right about the date thing, but he wasn’t entirely wrong either. I was following Bailey’s advice. She’d told me to either get it over with and make a move with Dean or move on.

So, I was moving on. Or pretending to. I was making an effort at least.

“It wasn’t a lie,” I told him. “I am going out with Bailey and Dylan.” I peeked out the window to see if they were here yet.

“So… it’s not a date,” he said, somewhere between a statement and a question. “It’s just you going out with a couple of friends?”

“Not exactly,” I said, going to sit on my bed while I waited.

“Then what is it, Jenna?” He asked as he came to sit beside me. “This is a yes or no question. Why can’t you just give me a straight answer?”

“It’s… a double date, I guess,” I told him.

“Ok,” he said calmly. “And Dylan is your date?” he asked.

“What?” I asked, surprised. “No. Dylan and Bailey are dating.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize that,” he said. “So who’s your date?”

I couldn’t decide how I felt about this conversation. While I was comfortable talking to Dean about anything, boys was a topic we’d never covered before. Mostly because there’d been no reason to. There had never been any boys I was interested in and wanted to talk about. Never in more than a friend way at least.

Dean was being very casual about it. More than I expected. I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that, but I was thinking I didn’t like it. I wouldn’t have minded him being the slightest bit upset about it. I had been expecting it, really. He was usually so protective.

“His name is Jake,” I answered.

Dean pursed his lips, thinking for a minute before responding.

“Can I ask you something and have you promise not to get mad at me? Because I’m not trying to be a jerk, I just really want to know,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed a little warily. I had no idea where he might be going with this.

“Do you even like this guy?” he asked. “Because you don’t seem very excited.”

“Well… to be honest, I’m not really,” I admitted.

“Then why are you going?” he asked. I sighed.

“Because the problem is that I don’t really know him. And isn’t that the point of a date? To get to know someone?” I pointed out.

“I guess so,” Dean agreed. “But usually people go out with someone they’re interested in.”

“I told you I don’t really know him. How could I know if I’m interested yet?”

“You don’t have to know someone to know you’re interested. Haven’t you ever met someone and known right away you wanted to get to know them better? Because you found them attractive or because even from a short conversation you could tell you would get along?” He asked.

“No. Not really,” I said.

“Never?” he asked disbelievingly.

“No,” I repeated. “I’ve just never really been interested in anyone.”

“Oh,” was all Dean said in response. I couldn’t quite read the tone of this voice or the expression on his face.

Feeling a little awkward, I stood up and walked over to check out the window again. They still weren’t here.

“You know you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Dean said from where he was still sitting on the bed.

“Yes I do. They’re on their way to pick me up right now. Too late to back out. Besides,” I told him as I went to sit beside him again. “I always like hanging out with Bailey and Dylan. And they like Jake and think we’ll get along. I trust them. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

“Then why do you look like you’re dreading it?” Dean asked.

“I’m not dreading it,” I told him. “Really, I’m not.” I insisted when he just gave me a look. “I’m just… nervous I guess. Regardless of whether I like him or not, it’s always weird for me to spend time with someone I don’t really know. So I guess I’m just anxious about that.”

“In that case, I hope you have fun,” he said with a small smile. He sounded sincere, but it also seemed a little forced.

Before I could think very long on what that meant, there was a honk from right outside the door.

“There’s some leftover stroganoff in the fridge you can have if you want it. Just make sure to leave enough for my dad,” I told Dean as I grabbed my purse and slipped on my coat. “See you later,” I said as I opened the door.

“See you later,” I heard him echo as the door closed behind me.

~~~~~

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bailey teased. We had just dropped Jake off at his house and were headed to the motel now.

“I never said it would be bad,” I replied.

“Maybe not in so many words. But I could tell you weren’t happy about it,” she said.

“Look,” I sighed. “I understand what you’re saying. About moving on. But it’s not that easy,” I told her.

“It’s not easy to move on from the person you’ve been into for half your life?” Dylan asked with a smirk, looking at me in the rearview mirror. I frowned at him.

Bailey turned in her seat to look at me.

“Obviously you’re not going to get over it overnight. We wouldn’t expect that. And to be completely honest…” she trailed off, looking to Dylan. He thought about it for a second before nodding at her to continue.

“We don’t really expect you to get over him at all,” she said.

“Then what was the point of tonight?” I asked, frustrated. I’d had fun and Jake was a nice enough guy, but I definitely wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship with him. All they had really accomplished tonight was making the next few days at school awkward every time I ran into Jake if he didn’t feel the same way I did. And I honestly couldn’t tell what he thought.

“You said you’d never been on a date before, right?” Bailey asked.

“Right…” I said, dragging out the word, confused about where this was going.

“We just thought it might make Dean jealous. Or at least make him realize if he didn’t make a move, someone else eventually would,” she explained.

“So what you’re saying is you lied to me. But it was to help me?” I questioned.

“Yeah. Well that’s the hope anyway,” Bailey said.

“What about Jake?” I asked, a little annoyed. I could have told them this plan wouldn’t work and saved everyone the trouble. I did appreciate that they were trying though. “Did he know it wasn’t a real date?”

“He didn’t think it was a date at all,” Dylan replied. “We just told him we were planning on hanging out and asked him to join.”

“Thanks guys. I know you meant well, but I wish you would have just told me. This isn’t going to change anything with Dean,” I told them.

“Why don’t you wait until you get back to decide that. See how he reacts first,” Bailey said.

“I don’t need to. You realize Dean goes on a lot of dates with a lot of girls, right?” I asked.

“So you’ve said,” Bailey sighed. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Well he’s never shown any interest in me. Not like that anyway,” I said.

“Yeah, but I don’t think you’d actually notice if he did,” Dylan countered.

“Look,” I said tiredly. “I know you want to help. But you’ve got to just let it go. Every day I work on keeping my emotions under control. I’m constantly reminding myself not to read into things and not to get my hopes up. It’s hard enough as it is. Having you two always telling me how you think he likes me… well it gets my hopes up despite my best efforts. And letting yourself hope is how you get hurt when things don’t go the way you want. So can you please just leave it alone?”

“We didn’t mean to make things harder or overstep,” Dylan said. “You just talk about him so much, we wanted to–”

“To help, I know,” I cut in. “I appreciate it. And as for talking about him… well there’s not much in my life worth talking about, so I guess he just comes up a lot. I’ll try to stop though.”

“No, you don’t have to stop,” Bailey insisted.

“I should though. It’s not helping things either,” I said.

“Neither is keeping your feelings bottled up. We’ll back off. I promise. But only if you keep talking about him when you want to. The way you always have with us,” she bargained.

“Deal,” I agreed with a smile. It would be really hard having to leave this town. I’d never had such great friends.

“But just out of curiosity,” she continued as Dylan pulled up to the motel and parked. “On Monday will you let us know how he reacts tonight?” she asked.

“He came over before you guys picked me up. We talked about it a little. He just said to have fun,” I told them.

They frowned a little at this, clearly not happy that there hadn’t been more of a reaction. They didn’t say anything more about it though.

“I guess we’ll see you Monday,” Dylan said as I got out of the car.

“Yeah. Thanks for driving,” I said. I closed the car door and waved as they backed out of the parking lot before unlocking the door and stepping inside.

Dad was sitting at the table, writing in his case journal.

“Hey kiddo,” he greeted, looking up from the book. “How was your night?”

“It was good,” I told him. “When did you get back?”

“About an hour ago,” he answered.

“Did you get something to eat?” I asked as I made my way to the bathroom to shower. That’s when I noticed Dean. He was sprawled out on the couch, looking at me over the back of it. There was an episode of Scooby Doo playing on low volume.

“Yeah, I did,” Dad answered before going back to writing.

“Hey,” Dean said when I stopped beside him. “How’d it go?”

“It was fine. We just got something to eat and then went bowling. Nothing too exciting,” I told him.

“Did you have fun?” He asked. I wondered if I detected something under his casual tone, but I couldn’t tell for sure so I just ignored it.

“Yeah, I guess so. I don’t think I’ll be going on any more dates with Jake though,” I answered.

“Why not? Did he do something?”

“No, of course not. We just didn’t really hit it off,” I said.

“That’s… too bad?” He questioned. I smiled.

“Not really. What are you doing here, by the way?” I asked as I grabbed my bag.

“Sam was hogging the TV so I just figured I’d hang out here for the night. I assume that’s ok with you?” Dean asked teasingly.

“Of course. As long as you don’t mind sharing when I’m done showering,” I said.

“I think I can manage that,” he smiled. I showered quickly and then Dean and I watched Scooby Doo reruns until we were too tired to stay up any longer.

Chapter 5

#supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #original female character #original characters #soulmates #soulmate au #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x soulmate!ofc #so long v2

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more-thoughts-than-money · 1 year ago

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okay but that one episode in House where Cuddy is in the hospital and House couldn’t get himself to be there by her side to comfort her without reaching for Vicodin always makes me tear up so bad

when she finds out she gets pretty pissed

and it was always so fucking sad to me because they both knew that House wasn’t cut out for the relationship, and knew damn well he has a lot of emotional baggage

and it’s okay to hesitate when going into a relationship with such person, you have to be prepared for everything. and it’s hard to be prepared for anything with someone like House [and Cuddy is a perfectionist, she NEEDS to be prepared for anything in order to survive]

anyways, what makes me so upset when thinking of this is:

she knew he’s an addict and yet expected him to *just stop* taking pills cold turkey.

truth is that in my experience this medication allowed his brain to function and shut down his emotion.

i mean

i genuinely hc that he has ADHD

and it’s a very personal HC but i have nowhere to talk about this so yeah

but there was a couple of months in my life when i abused medication. in a pretty dumb way, so i can’t ever say i was an addict, because it was psychiatric medication, if i filled my prescription too soon doctor would know and as a 14-15 yo kid i wasn’t going to explain to my family that i’m abusing medication because my antidepressants never work and the doctor doesn’t bother to listen to me saying that i genuinely think i have ADHD

anyways thing is, when i ran out of the anxiety medication i abused that calmed my brain down (so that i could focus, and not be “dumb” in school)

i didn’t know what to do

so i went for my insomnia medication, since i didn’t have anything else, it wasn’t exactly helping me focus, but it would severely sedate me so that i wouldn’t be able to think about anything and then i could just skip school by sleeping for 13 hours or more

the only reason i stopped was because i was still underage and it’s my obligation to go to school. and i didn’t have an excuse for feeling dizzy other than “i feel bad, i don’t want to go to school” and then i would just sleep

anyways my point is i think it was my way of coping with ADHD, i think very quickly and am all over the place, careless and make mistakes when i need to actually apply the concept i’m thinking of

and it feels similar to why not taking Vicodin would freak him out and make him “a bad doctor”

for me having ADHD is like having a lot of energy that you have to put SOMEWHERE!! whether it be literal physical activity (hyperactive), brain activity (distraction), or both

losing the use of his leg only because nobody would believe him felt unfair, he had no control over it. and the anger (energy) and the lack of ability to let it out (through sports) made him 3 times as bitter, miserable and fucking unbearable (/lh)

also the need to pick up a hobby and putting your everything into learning it but dropping it once you “succeeded” and looking for something else to do hits close home

i mean yes it’s more of a head-cannon but he knows a bunch of languages (at least spanish, hindi and mandarin, the last two of which he is fluent enough in to read and carry out conversations) and its not even that he plans on using them, he just does it for fun, to keep his brain moving; and nothing else

he picks up physics because suddenly he has so much time to spare when he can’t do his work properly and hey, physics is hella interesting, why not learn it as well?

and that’s what i find myself struggling with, when i’m trying to stop emotional eating for example, or when i’m trying to stop overachieving at school for the sake of focusing on what i actually want to do

and that’s why i’m very depressed because i want to do so many different things! but i’m bound to waste 8 hours at school not learning anything because i either don’t care about it or care too much and the teacher can’t do their class without me talking with them all the time

on top of that; Vicodin clears out all the “useless things” including some the fear and distrust he has towards everything and everyone

when he’s sober and realises Cuddy, someone he tried so hard to break down all the mental walls for, could possibly die

it overwhelmed him, because he hasn’t been in a proper relationship in years

and that’s why it was so infuriating to see this

and i’m not defending House, because i know i hated him a lot of times during the time i watched the entire show

but he’s relatable in ways no other character ever was to me

#txt #personal #house md #long post #oversharing #cw substance abuse

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a-moth-to-the-light · 1 year ago

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storytime!

so earlier i mentioned the pure joy of staying up late reading, and i have a little story about it that i wanted to tell y'all :) the end is positive and lighthearted, but just know i'll talking about my disabilities quite a bit on the way there !

so in middle school, when i started dealing with my mental illnesses, i had really bad sleep problems where i would wake up at like 2 or 3 am almost every night and be SUPER freaked out by the dark and not be able to fall asleep again for at least a couple of hours

it was miserable, but reading helped me make it through--i remember reading the entire Eragon Cycle primarily between the hours of 2 and 6 am (i don't particularly enjoy the series anymore, but i also don't care because i'm just happy that kid-me liked it!)

in high school, though, my relationship with reading really changed when i developed chronic pain. even when i was mentally able to focus on a book, the physical work of holding it up & trying to sit in the same position for a long period of time caused me so much pain that i wasn't able to get really immersed in reading like i used to--often, i would be too distracted by pain to focus at all. all my energy would go to reading for school, which was enough physical and mental work on its own, so there really was just nothing left over to devote to reading for fun

as you might have guessed, then, not only did i read a lot less in those years, but i also lost those nice moments from my childhood--being able to read for hours and hours, to stay up late binging a book

it's kind of sad how long it took me to consider audiobooks as a valid option for myself, but last december, i finally started reading via audiobooks and it's been AWESOME (!!!), to the point where i've started using text-to-speech software to read for school, too (best idea EVER for me)

earlier this month, i read Red Queen by Juan Gómez-Jurado, and i quite literally stayed up all night to finish it because i loved the story that much (i think i went to bed at like 8 am that day?) and i just cannot describe how happy it makes me feel that audiobooks allow me to do that again!! staying up that late to read isn't something i'd like to do frequently, per se, but it is something i appreciate being able to do every once in a while--with audiobooks, i am physically capable of turning to books for comfort, of losing myself in them in the quiet night hours, made safe and sound in my own mind through the company of words!!

even better, my sleep problems are much more mild now, and i'm no longer all that scared of the dark, so i can get my late-night reading in while being confident that i'm safe and will fall asleep when i'm ready :)

#cw mental illness #cw insomnia #cw chronic pain #shoutout to podcasts and tv for keeping me sane while i wasn't reading #i'm still a huge fan of both #though i prefer books to tv bc i'm not as good at processing visuals/images as i am at processing words! i'm learning tho!#bojack horseman your lie in april heaven official's blessing & word of honor all helped me get through a summer of terrible pain #where i could barely read and never for more than like fifteen minutes at a time #i'm very grateful <3 #funny enough i did read the pale blue eye that summer though #and i saw a few days ago that it got a netflix adaptation ???#VERY excited to watch because that book was wild and i hope the adaptation will be too #six grows up

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trust-and-jump · 2 years ago

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Talia and Jason before the Pit

I warn you: Bad English!!!!! Bat English...

Okay, this might not look like it to you, but the piece is in my Reverse Robins AU, which includes The Thing where Jason Todd is Kind Of immortal:

But this definitely can be read as non-RR!AU thing.

So. Bad translation; I feel like everything I write in English is funny or irritating bc of all my mistakes and typos and poor word choosing.

also despite long warning it's short lol. just wanted to post it because I like to torture myself and turn my good enough (for me) Russian texts into super-bad English ones.

Hope someone will like Talia in this.

But nevermind, read it if you want:

takes place when Jay is healthy enough and fed already; I think maybe he is with al Ghuls for six months at least; I feel like I should say eight months.

She worried about him when she was away - constantly, relentlessly. First she saw him as a connection with Bruce. Then as someone in a snake pit who can't take care of himself. Later… as a child in her care. In any case, he was her responsibility; Jason. And that, somehow, was a worse burden to bear than it was with Damian.

Of course, it didn't help her newfound horror that it seemed like something terrible had happened every time Talia wasn't around. A failed "test", a punishment without her knowledge and permission, some glimpse of his wounded mind… and much more. It seemed like she couldn't leave Jason alone even for a day. Although.. that was the problem, wasn't it? Jason, as a rule, was not alone. As far as Talia knew, it was because of others that all the incidents arose — no fault of Jason at all.

Maybe she was biased. So what?

In any case, nothing — and no one —could have prepared her for the day when Jason died. When Jason died and she only found out about it a couple of hours later.

Her first thoughts were a special kind of mess, when she was only able to move, but not to think.

Looking back, Talia could admit that she handled the situation much less gracefully than she should have. However, the incident forced her to admit to herself that Jason had become dear to her. Much more than planned. The insignificant life of that fool who was too careless and decided that an ugly fight with a teenager who could not answer for himself... the fool that attacked Jason with a sword, who won dishonorably and meanly— who thought that all those training sessions (where they - ordinary trainees - attacked him in droves) meant killing "dead bird" was a success and lead to a reward - when the opposite was directly said to all of them… that fool's miserable life wasn't worth the mercy Talia had shown him. And she gave this mercy only because she was too distracted by the sudden (and, oh God, so familiar) sound of the boy's breathing. She twitched her bloody fingers uselessly, and then rushed to him.

For the first time since fate had brought him to the abode of evil, to the net that she had selfishly set, Talia did not think about Bruce looking at Jason. The boy clung to her, shuddering, but he did it cautiously, timidly, and she could not stop herself as she stretched out her hand in response, gripped his shoulder and pulled him closer, tighter, almost hugging. She couldn't stop herself from kissing the top of his head, running fingers through his hair, feeling the edges of the scars with her fingertips.

What am I doing, Talia thought suddenly. Why is he here.

Why weren't they in some place where the sun goes down.

Where the shadows don't fall.

Where it's never hot.

Where there were no green eyes and rotten waters and captivity and prison.

Then Talia thought about those terrifying moments before Jason - miraculously - breathed again. And remembered how she felt— in her mind, she was standing on the edge of a cliff in front of a black abyss, and the wind was blowing in her back.

No, she thought furiously. It won't happen.

It was convenient enough that in the last couple of months, Jason's affairs have been addressed first to her and only then to her father.

No one could find out about Jason's second death. The Demon was kind enough not to test the boy's mortality, but if it turns out that Jason had this gift — or a curse — nothing would deter his tests and inquiries.

And, if today's terrible day had shown something, Talia would never be ready to agree to it without a fight. Without a lost already battle.

And therefore, the Demon's Daughter decided, muttering into the hair of her ward everything's alright's and you'll be okay's in her own language, I will keep it a secret.

Jason was gradually relaxing. He was strong, a fighter from the start, but the whole misfortune took a lot of energy from him; he fell asleep, feeling safe with Talia. And her heart sank. She wasn't sure she deserved that trust. She could only hope that she wouldn't lose it.

___

that's all, look at my food now. I ate a lot and I am happy for a few hours. Because I love to eat, it's literally my favourite thing to do. food is life. if I'm full I'm happy. delicious. I love cooking too.

the screenshot is from Batman (1966).

Now look at this:

but hey, I don't mind Talia/Jason thing in Lost Days. because it wasn't meant to be liked by people. I just wanted to clearify that in my AU it didn't happen.

Okay, if you read here, just PLEASE tell me if you see any mistake!!!! or poor word choosing!!!!! or typo!!!! I'm bad with English, help me 😭😭😭

#talia al ghul #jason todd #lost days #lost days au #batman fanfiction #fic writing #reverse robins #batman #catatonic jason #catatonic Jason todd #batfam fic #bad english #bat english #Talia al Ghul and Jason Todd #Talia and jason #reverse robins au #age reversal au #Reverse Robins

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 2 years ago

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Quick vent. Cause I know people hate when I moan about my life, I’m putting it under the cut.

GAH! I had so much to do today and everything keeps going wrong. Like trying to fix something actually breaks three more kind of wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

And now I discover a couple of things I have to pay for suddenly. They aren’t even “big” bills to most people, but I am too broke for them. Anxiety attack time!

Next week is my birthday damn it! I knew I couldn’t afford to do much, but since there is no one to give me a card or wish me a happy birthday, I want to do something a little special.

I figured I could at least manage what I did last year: a movie and take out. It would be my first movie and my first take out in an entire year! All year I had been trying to keep aside a little, and failing miserably. (Thank you stupid inflation!**) But a cheapo midday movie and something small from that Chinese place, well anyone can afford THAT…

I guess I’m not anyone. I’ve been told as much before.

Trying to get something done that won’t make me miserable, I tried to send someone a text to thank them for a kindness. Turns out I can’t text them. So now I am eaten up with guilt for not seeming grateful enough.

I know things I should be doing. I also know I am getting increasingly miserable. So I decide that since the rain has stopped I’d go for a walk before dark. I got my camera and…

The memory card is almost full. I went to get the new one I am supposed to have and….I can’t find it. I tore the place apart looking, which I still need to clean up. I bit the bullet and accepted I would just have to order one.*** I literally winced as I spend ANOTHER $10 that I now can’t use next week.

Speaking of weeks, oh look, the memory card won’t we delivered until after my birthday. I won’t be able to take photos for an entire week! I can’t stand the thought! I carry my camera everywhere! Being able to take pics in the woods is one of the few things that can make me happy anymore.

Add that I am so behind in photographing sculpting already, so now I am going to have about twenty faces sitting on that stupid tray by the time I can take pics again. I HATE taking pic of my sculpting, so falling so far behind makes me nuts.

And no photo of the birthday cake I will bake for myself. I always take pics of my cake, and have since I got my first camera as a child. That’s going to feel disappointing.

The memory card is no big deal in the grand scheme of things. Compared with other “little things”**** like not being able to buy a full tank of gas or keep hot water or buying new ankle braces or a dozen other things, it’s nothing. The photos don’t matter. We are the only ones to ever see them, fellow Tumblr inmates. I don’t NEED photos.

So why does it make me want to cry?

And yes, I got so distracted on the memory card problem that I didn’t get the walk either…

sigh………..

** Ex. The price of dog food has gone up, but the size of those bags has also shrunk six pounds, so now I am going to have to pay a lot more a month on extra bags that already cost about $30 each, just so the dogs don’t run out of food between grocery trips! It adds up when before inflation I was already struggling to have anything left at the end of the month.

*** Yes, I could get one at Walmart, BUT it is 10 miles away. I would have to waste gas money and time, and besides, they charge more than the ones I get online. I don’t have any money to spare.

**** As opposed to the big “OMG, the house is falling!” stuff I deal with all the time. This looming, crushing stuff is another league of difficult.

#my day #bad day #poverty #tired #busy #problems

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adoracora-elizabeth · 3 months ago

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Music Made Me Love you, chapter 6

"We cannot postpone the deadline again. You need to produce something, or we cannot work together anymore." Cora's publisher sounded harsh, but she did understand where he was coming from. He needed her book to sell, and she was not producing anything. It had now been weeks since she last heard that piano player and her brain did not want to produce any words. She tried but failed miserably. What if the person had moved? How would she ever find her muse again. It did also not help that she had not seen Robert, for the same amount of time.

"I will make sure to have it ready next month. I promise." Cora heard herself say those words, but she knew they were empty promises. How was she going to produce those last chapters? She needed to find a solution, really quick.

"Do not let us down." The dial tone sounded before Cora could answer. She sighed and sat down on the sofa. As it did for the entire last week, her notebook was smirking at her. Maybe she should start by digitalising what she already wrote. It could help, get back into the writing process. She opened her laptop and started typing.

She was thankful her mother had told her to take typing lessons, now she was able to use the keyboard with ten fingers and without looking at it. It saved her a lot of time. There was not much her mother had told her to do, but this was one of those rare ones. She loved her mother, but the relationship had always been strange. She was much closer to her father. Or at least she had been closer to him. She still felt the pain in her heart thinking of that day.

He had been out golfing with some of his friends. They normally took a golf buggy to go around the course. But one of his friends had said that the weather was nice enough to walk that day. So, they all went on foot. Cora wished her father had been lazy that day and had taken the cart. But he did not, true to his nature he was the first one to be enthusiastic. They had walked several holes, and when they decided that it was time for a beer, it had gone terribly wrong.

Another player that was out on the course, was new to the game. He was good at smashing the little ball far, but aiming was not his strong suit yet. Isidor had been at the wrong time at the wrong place.

The ball was hit hard and flew over the course. But instead of going in the direction of the hole. It flew directly at their group. He was hit on his head. According to his friends, he had dropped to the floor immediately and there was nothing they could do.

Later with his autopsy, they found that the artery that lay directly under his temple had burst. It meant an instant death or at least one from which he did not suffer. That was the only consolation she had; he had not suffered.

She shook her head and looked at her screen again. She had still a lot of work to do, she loved writing in the old-fashioned way. With pen and paper, but it did give her extra work. That extra work was a good distraction, otherwise she would start panicking. She needed to find another way to get inspiration.

+++

Robert pushed his father inside. He had been in the hospital for a long time, but finally he was allowed to go home. They hired a private nurse, and with that condition, they finally agreed to let him go. Patrick could still not use his left arm or leg and his speech was still slurred. But as Robert had expected, he was working hard and very determent to get as much function back as was possible. "Welcome home, Papa."

"This is not my home son, and you know that." said Patrick gruffly.

Robert knew that he only saw Downton as his home. "Your home away from home." He tried.

Patrick shrugged his shoulder. It was a weird sight, seeing one shoulder moving and the other one staying motionless.

"Can you bring your father to the living room please. We do not have to stand in the hallway, do we?" Violet's voice snarled in his ear.

Robert walked further on; his parents were staying in their London home for the time being. In the end it was best that they had opened their London home and were not staying in Robert's apartment. He would not like living with his parents again. Especially not with his father being this depending on them. Violet would probably get very cranky, and he could only imagine the frustration his father felt.

"You will be alright then?" Robert looked at his father, he had wheeled him close to the fireplace. Since his stroke he was constantly cold.

"What do you mean?" Violet sat down on the sofa. "Are you leaving?"

"Well, yes. What can I do here?"

"Your father needs to explain you everything about the business. You need to step up now, the time of being lazy is behind you."

"Dear, we cannot state that Robert is lazy. He never has been."

Robert gave his father a thankful look. It was indeed not something they could say, he had never slacked off at work. "Mama, I know I have to take over fully from now on."

"For the time being." Patrick added.

"For the time being, sorry Papa. But Papa is not even home for one hour, I want him to take it slow these days. I will do whatever I can without his information already. And then in a couple of day, Papa and I will sit down to see what I can do."

"Dear, you know Robert is right. I am, to be honest, too exhausted to think about work. I would love to go to the bedroom and sleep."

"I will ask the maid to prepare your bedroom right away."

"The bedroom is already ready, Milady." Maud's voice sounded from the door.

"Good." Violet looked at Robert. "Are you going to help your father to the bedroom, or is that also too much to ask?"

Robert ignored her words and pushed his father into his bedroom. He could not understand how they could be married, but never slept in the same room. How did Rosamund and he came along. Deep down, he knew exactly how it worked. His mother was old fashioned, and she did not allow his father to sleep in her bedroom. From time to time, he was allowed to have fun with her, but that was it. He could not imagine that those things were still happening in these modern times. He shivered; he did not want to think about his parents doing those things.

"Papa, I will be back in two days. Please take the rest you need. I am taking care of the business for now and we will not make any major decisions."

"That is alright son. Thank you."

+++

Annoyed Robert stepped inside his apartment in Westminster. He wished he could go back to Richmond; he missed his small house there. The garden, his piano but most of all he missed bumping into Cora. It had been weeks and he felt foolish for asking her number. He was intrigued by her and just wanted to know more. But with his father's situation, it all got complicated.

He walked to his kitchen to get some water when he made a decision. He was going to Richmond tonight; he would just stay the night and go back tomorrow morning.

He called for a cab and took only a small bag with him. He had clean clothes left at his house, so he did not need much.

Relieved he opened the door to his house and walked straight over to his piano. He caressed the instrument before sitting down. He tossed his bag into a corner and his fingers went to the black and white keys.

Cora popped up in his mind and he started playing. His music turned into a melodramatic song, which brought tears to his own eyes.

He did not stop for several hours, and when he finally looked up and noticed that it was three in the morning, he realised that he had not closed his window. Slightly ashamed he walked over and closed the window. Murmuring an apology to his neighbours.

Once more he stroked with his fingers over de piano, one day I will tell Mama about this. One day. He said to himself, before walking into his bedroom.

With a deep sigh, he lay down and stared at the ceiling. He promised himself that he would bury his personal life. But how could he? It was part of him, a big part. He did not feel complete without his piano. And it seemed that he also could not be genuinely happy without seeing Cora. That last part still shocked him. He had seen her twice; how could she have this effect on him? But more importantly, was she feeling the same thing for him? What if he was dreaming of meeting her again, but she was not? He needed to find out what she felt for him, but he was not sure how he was going to do that.

#cora crawley #downton abbey #robert crawley #downton #fanfiction #cobert

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