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pillage-and-lute · 4 years ago

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The Courting Ways of Wolves (Part 2)

It’s back! Dumb boys in love! Also Grandpa Vesemir gets some feels and Geralt does some math. Part 1, (here) Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Epilogue

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Watching Winter at Kaer Morhen melt into early spring was always a beautiful process, but this year brought Geralt trepidation as well. Watching Ciri train had been wonderful, helping her learn the basics kept all the wolves on their toes, for the first time in many years actually thinking about motions that normally came from muscle memory.

Yennefer had flourished into her role as “Aunty Yen,” not sweetly nurturing, the way one often thought about with children, but a clever tongue and tough love that Ciri, granddaughter of the Lioness, seemed completely at home with.

Geralt was doing his best too. Ciri had started calling him dad about halfway through the winter, the first time happening at dinner and he’d very nearly choked on his ale. It sent something warm running through his veins every time, like good brandy that burned all the way down.

He was trying, words still didn’t come naturally, but somehow Ciri always seemed to be able to see exactly what he meant. Maybe it was Destiny, maybe just a hurt, lost child clinging to whoever was consistent in her life, but Geralt hoped it was more. More than anything, he hoped Ciri truly understood how cared for she was, not just by himself, but all the wolves, Jaskier, and Yennefer.

Ciri had whispered to him one day, still panting after training, asking if he thought Yen would mind if she called her mom.

Geralt had replied that he didn’t think Yennefer would mind at all.

Yennefer came to him later, a tender look in her eyes. There was something, not fragile in her eyes, but Jaskier had pointed out in a marketplace once, a beautiful porcelain vase that had been broken and artfully repaired with gold. Yen’s expression reminded him of that.

They sat for a while, then Yennefer said, “Will you be able to let go of her in the spring?”

“Yes,” Geralt said, although he was less than sure that parting from Ciri would be so easy. “She needs you, and time away from me. And to be around women.”

Yennefer nodded, gave Geralt a pat on the shoulder, and left. Geralt stayed, cloak wrapped around him as he sat looking out over the walls.

There was much that would happen in the spring, and his life, which had been pretty stagnant before, was changing more in these past few years than it ever had. He felt like Kaer Morhen itself, built to last and yet crumbling still, the weight of change and time and destiny tearing down walls.

He watched the sun go down.

Vesemir joined him, carrying two bowls of stew. Geralt took a bite of his and winced. It had been Eskel’s turn to cook. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vesemir’s mustache twitch with a hint of a smile. They ate the oversalted meal in silence.

“You know,” Vesemir said, and in the starlight the crags on his face looked carved in. “I come up here to think too.”

Geralt knew, but Vesemir wasn’t interested in talking about the battlements, he could tell.

“I think, most nights, about the ghosts within these walls. All of the little boys who died so that the School of the Wolf could be.” The wind picked up, howling like, with an excellent sense of the dramatic, a wolf.

“The Trials haunt me, Geralt. More than anything in my life, and it has been a long life indeed.”

“You saved me,” Geralt said. “Saved Eskel.” But he too remembered the still bodies carried out and buried in the night. How few boys remained. Remembered the screaming in the night, unsure how much of the sound was torn from his own throat, and what came from his brothers dying around him.

“I let them put you through it twice. That wasn’t salvation, lad.” Vesemir sighed. “I couldn’t have put a stop to the Trials, don’t know if I would have if it were possible, there have to be Trials to be witchers, and the world needs us, whatever it may believe. But maybe there was a better way. A kinder way. You were boys, little lads who went through so much pain.”

Geralt was startled to see a tear fall down the craggy face, burying in the moustache. Witchers could cry, but it happened rarely, tears could blur vision in a fight, and only very strong emotion, the sort they had been taught to suppress, could override the mutations.

And then Vesemir put an arm around Geralt’s shoulder and gave him an oddly nice hug. It could have cracked a boulder.

“Someone should have held you boys more,” Vesemir said, a touch abashedly. They looked out over the walls some more and Geralt wondered if the conversation was over, but Vesemir didn’t take the arm away.

“Ciri called me Grandpa today.”

Ah. That would explain a lot. Watching Vesemir interact with Ciri over the winter had been a delight and a surprise to the wolves. He’d even sat her on his knee and told her stories of when Lambert, Eskel, and Geralt were young like a, well, like a doting grandfather. Jaskier had been enthralled as well, naturally, but seeing Vesemir so soft, and sometimes looking a little sad, around Ciri, had been an education for the men who would always think of themselves as ‘Vesemir’s Little Lads’.

“She won’t be a witcher,” Vesemir said. “Couldn’t be even if we would want it, and I never would.”

“No,” Geralt said.

No,” agreed Vesemir. They looked out over the darkened landscape.

“I never wanted a family,” Vesemir said after a while where their breaths hung in the air before them. “‘O course, witchers aren’t supposed to, but you’ve built a nice little family for yourself, laddie. It’s not as may be, not like you’d find in villages or in your pet bard’s fancy songs. But you’ve a brave and rather headstrong daughter, and she has a mum, and a dad, and two already very protective uncles.”

“And a grandpa,” Geralt cut in.

“And a grandpa,” Vesemir agreed. “But a family needs a little more than that. There’s gotta be someone to teach the lass how to love.”

Geralt was about to protest that he’d seen plenty of loveless marriages, but then considered the results in the children. Jaskier was one, he knew. The sort of lost way Jaskier sucked up approval, when they’d first met, the way he’d drank up compliments like a man with water in the desert, whenever Geralt thought on it there was a sort of humming ache. He’d consulted with Eskel on the feeling, concerned it was illness. Apparently, it was just what happened when someone you loved was hurting and it wasn’t something you could kill or fix.

“It doesn’t need to be romantic love,” Vesemir said, obviously seeing Geralt’s face. “And she’ll know how to love family fine, and how to love friends, as you and Yennefer figure that out between the two of you. But your bard loves you, and the way you love him can teach her how to love others and herself. And if Ciri has another dad maybe you can worry less.”

Geralt chuckled. Ciri could have fifty parents, and Geralt would still lose sleep worrying. Vesemir smiled back at him, eyes crinkling and moustache lifting like a bristle brush that had learned to fly. Then he slapped Geralt on the back, and Geralt, the White Wolf of Rivia, Butcher of Blaviken, the witcher who had twice survived the Trials, felt his spine compress like a spring and he was sure he felt a rib creak.

“Love Jaskier, lad. Hold tight to him. We rarely get good things.”

Then Vesemir walked back inside and Geralt stared after him. There weren’t many old witchers, dangers of the job and all that, but Vesemir was proof that witchers, like oak wood, only solidified with age.

Geralt followed him inside.

The next days passed in a flurry of activity. Ciri had been let off of training with the wolves to pack for her journey with Yennefer, and to be quickly given the rundown of the basics of magic. The wolves were packing as well, preparing to leave Kaer Morhen. In between final preparations and weapon repair, Geralt checked over The List.

The List was supposed to help him court Jaskier. It was the combined brainchild of everyone (except Jaskier, of course) at Kaer Morhen. More importantly, his intention to court Jaskier met with Ciri’s approval.

When the day arrived, Geralt felt a curious lump in his throat. He watched Ciri say goodbye to Eskel and Lambert, the latter picking her up and swinging her in an arc, letting her joyful whoop echo about the courtyard. Then she hugged Vesemir, and he crushed her very gently to him. And then she turned to him and Jaskier.

He was thankful that Ciri bade Jaskier goodbye first, watching the bard wipe a surupticious tear away as he held the blonde girl. It was Geralt’s turn and he didn’t know what to do. He cleared his throat.

“Follow Yennefer’s instructions,” he said. That didn’t seem like enough. “And don’t talk to strangers,” he said. It still seemed insufficient but he was out of advice so he stuck out his hand to shake. Ciri laughed and leapt at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

He held her there, reveling in hugging his daughter, his child surprise, who was so full of surprises and he felt, for the first time in many years, the feeling of rather full tear ducts. He blinked them away.

“Good luck,” Ciri whispered in his ear. Jaskier wouldn’t have heard, but the witchers with their enhanced hearing surely had. Geralt nodded and set her down.

He coughed awkwardly and pulled out a little packet wrapped in burlap and some rough twine. Ciri beamed and pulled at the string so that the packaging fell away. A long piece of metal, bent into a thin U shape lay in his palm, the ends were surprisingly sharp. Ciri picked it up and examined it, then looked up at him questioningly.

“Hair pin,” Geralt said gruffly. “For your hair. And stabbing.” He mimed a clumsy, underhanded stab. “Eskel helped me silver plate it. For monsters. But also men, if they’re close enough.” He trailed off, knowing he sounded awkward. Who gave a self defense implement as a gift?

Ciri beamed at him again. “I love it,” she said, also miming a few stabs. He supposed that as a parent he shouldn’t be so proud of the light in his daughter’s eyes when she talked about stabbing, but he was almost certain that she got that trait from Jaskier, who tended to get...pointed about disagreements in pubs.

Yennefer stepped forward and carefully took the hair pin from their daughter, swooping her silver blonde hair back into a twist and sliding it in place. She placed a hand on Ciri’s shoulder and smiled at Geralt, and he was reminded again of that vase, stronger and more beautiful for the cracks in the facade. She then gave him a quick side hug and and even one for Jaskier, and opened a portal.

Geralt stared after his friend and his daughter long after the portal closed, until Jaskier, hand wrapped in a heavy mitten, gently took his wrist. They waved to the other wolves, and left, Roach walking obediently alongside.

And then it was just the two of them. Again. Just like the last twenty years. That thought occupied him as they made it down the Killer. The path down from Kaer Morhen was deadly, but that year Geralt made it down without thinking, keeping half a thought to Jaskier’s ambling form as he went.

How old was Jaskier?

He’d been eighteen or so when they met. Eighteen plus twenty-two was forty. Forty wasn’t that old for a human but Jaskier didn’t look too much different than he had at...Geralt did the math. Twenty-five? But there were signs. A few lines here and there, although Jaskier was insistent about his skincare. A line of silver, just a few hairs, probably unnoticable except to Geralt’s enhanced eyes. He was aging better than a human should.

Or perhaps not. Time was tricky for witchers, never staying in one place, never knowing people long enough to watch them age, he didn’t really know what to compare Jaskier to.

He did know how long humans lived though. And at the base of the mountain he came to a resolution, felt it settle in to his bones as deep as his mutations, deeper, even.

Twenty years, or nearly, where he hadn’t known Jaskier. Twenty more where he hadn’t admitted they were friends, or that he loved him. Eighty years in a human life span. And Geralt would love Jaskier, and make sure he knew he was loved, for the next four decades, give or take. He looked at his companion, paused as they were to give their feet and Roach a rest. The weak, watery sun of the early spring day fell on Jaskier’s face, dappled through the branches, which as of yet held no buds.

He pictured lines appearing, laugh lines, smile lines, crinkles carving themselves into the landscape of the familiar features. He pictured silver through the hair, more, in thicker streaks at the temples. Geralt saw a lifetime, Jaskier’s lifetime, in an instant. Silver covered warm brown, strong legs grew shakey, lines crowned a forehead and swept about clear eyes.

What would happen, Geralt thought, when Jaskier could no longer keep up? But Geralt knew what would happen. He’d take Jaskier to Kaer Morhen, or go with him to Oxenfurt, and spend his days with him. It had been a few short months since he’d realized he was in love with Jaskier, but that was only because Geralt’s skill with emotions was roughly similar to Jaskier’s apparent self preservation. Why had he let the lad talk to him in a pub? Had he loved him then? He remembered the shock of not being feared, of looking into clear, bright eyes and seeing admiration, the fierce protectiveness that had flared when he woke and saw the fool tied to him in an elven lair. Had it been love?

Watching Jaskier whisper softly to Roach as snow melted around him, Geralt was sure it had been. Destiny, Fate, the two bit tart who kept fucking him over, had given him his greatest blessing in a form that Geralt, up until that very second had considered a myth. Love at first sight. Love had brought him Jaskier, and Ciri, and a fast friendship with the most powerful mage on the Continent. Love had brought him a family in the form of a wayward bard with bread in his pants. And Geralt had forty more years to cherish him.

Step One the list had said in Eskel’s clear writing. Kiss his hand. Being mindful of Step Two, to mind his manners, Geralt crossed the clearing to Jaskier and took the thick woolen mitten in his gloved hand.

“May I?” he said. Jaskier gave him a baffled look, but nodded.

Geralt pressed chapped lips to a palm wrapped in knitted wool, and Jaskier smiled, albeit a little confusedly. It didn’t matter. Geralt wanted to spend the next forty years wrapped in that smile.

Then Jaskier asked him if he was feeling well.

#its a lot #tons of feels #did i shed a tear writing this?#no these falsies dont put up with water #but it was a close thing #grandpa vesemir #good mom yennefer #lowkey buffskier but not yet #geraskier #dyslexic Geralt #he's doing his best but emotions are hard

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tinyboxxtink · 4 years ago

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"Caught In The Storm" *Part 2*

Y'all thought I was kidding when I said I was pumped for this story; you just read how long this chapter is.

IT'S POURING OUT. I JUST WANT YOU TO GET WHERE I AM ALREADY.

It's so good guys. Like, SO GOOD.

Okay I'm sorry proceed.

Tag List:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@wanniiieeee

@milkshqke

@gibbs274

@lolliepopsicle

@aprildecker-blog

@objection-argumentative

@word-scribbless

If you missed part 1: Here!

Part 3 Here!

-----

The next day the SVU squad was having one of their "murder board" meetings when you came storming into the station.

"Well I hope you're happy!!" You looked right at Fin.

"Audition didn't go well, cannoli?" Sonny asked you using his pet name for you.

"No Sonny, it DID NOT," You huffed. "I walked in there and I blew my audition," You circled Fin’s desk. "And I don't mean I forgot the lyrics, or I hit a bad note. No no, ohhhh no," You finally stood in front of him and crossed your arms.

"Halfway through the song I broke down SOBBING. I had a complete mental breakdown, because all I could think was that I had the worst moment of my entire life in that room!!!"

"Hey you can't blame us for your mistakes," Fin retorted.

"I don't blame them, I blame you!" You gestured to the rest of your “family” and then to him.

"Excuse you?" Fin sat up straighter.

"You didn't have to say anything Fin, you really didn't," You sighed.

"What?"

"You could have waited to have your fucking temper tantrum until after my audition,"

"Excuse me no--"

"She has a point" Olivia interjected.

"You too?" Fin took offense.

"Fin she was leaving, it wasn't like she was going to try and jump Rafael's bones right there," She went on. The whole room shivered at the thought of you “jumping” anybody’s bones.

"Look, I don't love it either but you can't help your feelings. And she just has a little crush on him, you can't fault her for that,"

You scoffed in offense.

"You're not helping, sweets," Olivia warned.

"Right…"

"Anyway you could have waited to have it out, is all I’m saying,” Olivia nodded at you with a smile. You mouthed a “thank you”.

"Oh we haven't begun to have it out," Fin huffed.

"Save it" You put a hand up before he started to stand up and get in your face for a fight.

"I already know what you're going to say; he's too old for me, we're a 'family' and he's supposed to be my 'uncle' or 'brother' or some other creepy thing, and we have nothing in common. But we do!"

"You barely know him, Y/N," Nick chimed in.

"I know him better than any of you!" You cried defensively.

"What?" Sonny looked at everyone confused, but they were just as lost as he was.

"That summer….when I was working with him. We got... close," You muttered the ending.

"I fucking knew it, you did bang him begin my back…" Fin growled.

"It wasn't like that! It's not like that, da--FIN," You actually did usually call him dad or daddy, but since he had been trying to use his dominance you persisted to remind him he wasn't actually your father.

"So what, now you two are in love?" Fin rolled his eyes.

"No! He didn't... we've never….it's never gone there, and I don't even know how he feels," You looked down as you talked. But then, you remembered why you were there in the first place and you raised your head up with eyes of fire.

“And it wouldn't matter anyway because it's none of your business.” You snapped.

“It is absolutely my business Y/N he’s my co-worker, he’s ALL of our co-workers, this affects ALL of us,”

“I knew it,” You scoffed, tears coming to your eyes.

“What?”

“I knew you’d blow up, and freak out, and not even ATTEMPT to open your mind or hear what I have to say, it’s just about you and what makes you okay,” You backed away from all of them.

“So I came here willing to say that I’m done,” You raised your hands.

“What do you mean you’re ‘done’?” Fin crossed his arms.

“With you,” You replied straight faced, willing tears not to fall right now. “Olivia’s right, I can’t help the way I feel, and BELIEVE me I have tried, daddy,” You resorted to your old name for a punch in the gut.

“Y’know whenever Sonny and Nick started, I had ‘crushes’ on them too,” You nodded at the two, who quickly looked uncomfortable picturing you that way.

“But those quickly went away, and I accepted them as my uncles, or whatnot,” You continued. “I have done that since I was in Jr. High, come here and meet my new ‘family’. I’ve always felt maternal or paternal vibes from everyone here, Uncle Brian, Grandpa Kragen and Munch, Uncle Stabler who can rot in hell…” You gave Olivia a sad look.

“But it’s ALWAYS been familial love! And the day I met Rafael, something was different,” You couldn’t help the tears choking your throat. “And I have never, EVER no matter HOW hard I have tried, felt anything like I feel about the rest of you. It’s just....different,”

“And now, you all know. And I know that you don’t like it, or it makes you uneasy, or blah blah blah,” You made blah gestures with your hands.

“But I can’t go back to pretending that it doesn’t kill me every time that I see him, and I’m not going to pretend like I’m okay with dad being-- this,” You gestured to Fin who shifted uncomfortably.

“So, I’m not going to come around here, for a while,” You said sadly.

“We didn’t do anything, cannoli! We’re your family too,” Sonny protested.

“Yeah I know, I just--”

“Look, Y/N before anybody does ANYTHING, you need to go talk to Rafael,”

“What?

“WHAT?!”

Both you and Fin exclaimed at the same time.

“Look I’m not thrilled with the idea of...that, but the bottom line none of this arguing means anything if he doesn’t feel the same way. So I’m saying before you start going off and making threats to US, go talk to him first. Without anybody else’s input,”

“Yeah, alright,” You shrugged and left before anyone else could argue.

--------

You walked into Rafael’s office quietly, not really sure how to start the conversation. He was writing a deposition silently so you knocked on the door to get his attention. He looked up at you with a small smile.

“Hey you,” He got up and walked around his desk as you shut the door behind you. “I was worried about you,” He put his hands on both of your shoulders.

“I know,” You gave him a small smile back. “But you’re right we do need to talk about last night,”

“Yeah, I--” He looked away nervously.

“I already went to my da---Fin, and the squad about this,” You bit your lip.

“....About what?” He was now concerned.

“Us,” You looked at him with a small smile.

“I’m sorry, there’s an ‘us’ now?” Rafael half laughed.

“Well that’s what I’m saying, Rafael!” You bit your lip. “Look after all the fighting and what not, what it boils down to is how you and I feel,”

“.....What are you saying?” Rafael asked, backing away from you.

“I’m asking,” You step forward and took both of his hands and looked at him seriously.

“For you to forget about Fin, or the squad, or an age gap, or all the million other things that are ‘against’ us,” You took a deep breath and asked the hardest question you’ve ever asked anyone:

“I’m asking you...do you love me?”

“Of course I love you Y/N, you’re like a--” Rafael immediately responded, moving away from you and gesturing wildly.

“Do NOT say daughter,” You cut him off. “Or sister, or niece, or cousin. You know that’s not what I’m asking,” You grabbed him and made him look at you again.

“Do you want to be with me?”

“I...it’s complicated,” He broke from your hold and paced his office.

“No I’d say it’s pretty damn simple-- do you feel about me the way I feel about you?” You asked him again.

“I just...I don’t want to become between you and Fin, he’s basically your--”

“He’s NOT my father!” You yelled.

“But he’s the closest thing you have!” Rafael argued, putting his hands over his face and taking a deep sigh.

“Christ almighty, Y/N. I don’t...I don’t want this to be a whole ‘thing’, I don’t want to upset Olivia, or the other squad members, I just...want us to go back to normal,” He gave you a sad look as he sank into his chair behind his desk.

“....Yeah well, normal is not an option, Rafael. And you STILL have not answered my question,” You circled his desk to be closer to him again.

“What question?”

“Dammit, Rafa!” You threw up your hands, then took both of your hands and put them on either side of the chair preventing him from evading you again.

“Look me in the eyes right now, and tell me you’re not in love with me,”

A very long pause began, as the two of you just stared at each other. You were searching his green eyes for a hint, a tell of what he was thinking, but he kept himself very guarded. You hated it.

“...No, I’m not,” He said in the tiniest voice as he looked down at the floor.

“You’re lying,” You pulled back with a sarcastic laugh, tears choking your throat yet again.

“Oh so just because I didn’t say what you wanted me to, I’m lying? For fuck’s sake grow up, Y/N,” Rafael spat at you coldly, turning back to his desk in an attempt to resume working.

“Fine, you know what? Fine. That’s great. You believe whatever you wanna believe Rafael, but things are NOT going back to normal,” You shook your head, trying to be cold and direct but failing as tears fell from your eyes.

“Y/N….” He felt his heart breaking, he hated to see you cry.

“No,” You stopped him. “We’re done. I don’t ever want to see you again. Not here, not at the station, not at the fucking Starbucks down my street!” Your voice raised as more tears fell.

“Y/N, please don’t do this…” Rafael began to panic, realizing what you were saying. He leapt up from his chair and tried grabbing your hands but you pushed him away.

“Don’t call me, don’t text me. Just...leave me hell alone,” And with that you turned on your heels and stormed out of his office, now full on sobbing down the hall.

Unbeknownst to you, Rafael let out an angry scream, running over to his desk and flinging papers everywhere, then proceeded to sink back into his chair behind his desk and cried ever so silently in his office.

-----

It had been about a week since your whole fallout with your “family” and Barba and you weren't doing great.

Then one day you got a phone call from an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N, this is Sandy from the supper club?” You immediately stopped walking when you heard her voice.

“Oh yes how are you?”

“Great, I was wondering if you could come back in and audition for us again?”

“Are you serious? I know I’m going to regret asking but, what made you change your mind?”

“Well your friend Kelsey called and told us that the day you came in and auditioned, your dog had just died that morning. But you didn't want to stand us up so you came anyway. And to be honest with you, all of the other auditions have kind of sucked so we'd like to give you another try.”

“Oh my God thank you, thank you, thank you so much!!!”

“Great so we'll see you tonight at 8:00?”

“Absolutely,”

You hung up the phone and immediately called Kelsey.

“Hello?”

“I love you so much I love you I love you I love you!”

“Oh so they called did they?”

“YES. I cannot believe that you would do that for me,”

“Well I figured you needed a win right now. Since you know you lost your family, and everybody who actually cares about you,”

“....Wow,”

“ You know what I mean! I mean you still have me, and Kenny obviously,”

“....Right. ANYWAY, the audition is tonight so….”

“Yes?”

“Will you play for me?”

“Let me see if I can free up my busy schedule,”

“Ha, Ha,”

“Oh look I’m free! I'll be there after work. Love you bye”

----

*That Night*

You walked into the Supper Club with a brand new outfit and a nervous smile. You noticed Kelsey was already at the piano, waving at you with a huge smile and a thumbs up.

“Hey Sandy, Hey Kyle…” You shook hands with the owners. “Thank you so much again for this chance,

“Girl we should be thanking you, you should’ve seen the ‘talent’ that has stunk up this stage all week!” Kyle laughed.

“So are you ready?” Sandy asked you.

“Yeah, I think I’m good,” You took a deep breath and smiled at her. She nodded at you while you took your spot on stage once again.

You closed your eyes and blocked out everything and everyone out of your mind, except for your song. It was just you, and the stage. This is what mattered.

-----

“....Good to you,” You finished the last line with a breathy note, your eyes still closed. You had kept them shut the entire time just so you wouldn’t look out into the house and just see the horrified looks of your family's faces burned into your brain.

“That was beautiful!!” Sandy clapped her hands. “Do you think you could come back tomorrow night and do that again?”

“Like for a second audition?” You asked hopefully.

“Like as a job,” She grinned back.

“Really?!”

“Yes really! That was enchanting darling, really,” Kyle placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you, thank you so much!” You nodded for Kelsey to come over as Sandy and Kyle walked away.

“I got the job,” You beamed.

“YOU GOT THE JOB!!!!” She squealed, causing people to stare. You shook your head and lead her out of the club back onto the street.

“Oh my god, Oh my GOD! I’m going to sing to a packed club, night after night after night! Oh my god, I have to call Dad---” Your celebrating tone quickly died when you realized the only people you’d wanna call about this weren’t...there.

“...You can call Kenny,”

“Kenny!” You smiled. “Yes I’ll call Kenny!”

“Hey girl what’s up?”

“I got the job,”

“Wha---at the Supper Club?”

“YES!!!!!!”

“Oh my god you GOT THE JOB!!!” *she got the job!*

You heard him speak to a muffled voice in the background.

“Kenny…”

“Yeah babe what’s up?”

“Who are you with right now?”

“...Alejandro,”

“Oh, Alex! I haven’t seen him in forever, put him on the phone,”

“He uh-- he has food in his mouth,”

“Boy why you lying, tell her she needs to--”

You heard Fin's voice.

“KENNETH,”

“...Yeah?”

“Don’t tell him that! He doesn’t get to know that!”

“Y/N, can’t we just stop all of this--”

“NO. And if you tell him to come tomorrow night I will kill you,”

You hung the phone and noticed Kelsey giving you a look.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t have to tell him you were singing tomorrow, you could’ve just texted him so Fin wouldn’t hear,” She smiled mischievously at you. “You want him thereeee,”

"...Maybe," You bit your lip. "Do you think he'll come?"

"I bet they ALL come, baby girl," She winked.

You wondered if she was right. If you'd see Rafael tomorrow, after all this time.

------

“I can’t believe she--” Kenneth stared at the phone, then to Fin.

“Dad, you have to go to her show tomorrow night,”

“Kenny she literally just said she’d kill you--”

“Yeah but dad, we both know her,” He looked at Fin with earnest eyes. “She might be mad at you right now, but she’ll want you there when her dream is coming true,” Fin’s eyes lit up as he finished speaking.

“AND the rest of the squad,” He quickly added, making Fin sigh.

“Yeah,” He agreed.

“AND Barba,”

“...Yeah alright Ken I get it, okay? Finish your food before it gets cold,”

-----

The next day Fin went to see Barba at his office. He knocked softly then entered to see Barba talking with Olivia.

“Detective,” Barba nodded. “Didn’t expect you here, was Olivia not working fast enough?” He teased Liv with a smile.

“Actually I’m glad you’re both here. I need to tell the rest of the guys but-- I wanted to come here first,”

“That sounds ominous, Fin,”

“Actually it’s not,” He shook his head. “Y/N got that job she...auditioned for, a few weeks ago,” He muttered awkwardly not looking Barba in the face.

“Wha--Seriously? How? When?!” Olivia began asking questions rapid fire.

“....Why did you come to tell me this, Fin? You didn’t know Olivia was here,”

“Look, Barba,” Fin sighed, running his hand back across his head. “I don’t-- I don’t need to know the specifics of how close you and my daug---Y/N, are,”

“Oh Fin look I haven’t--”

“Yeah, I figured. She’s iced us all out for a while now,” He chuckled sadly. If he taught you anything, it was how to stand your ground.

“But Kenny said, that as mad as she is we need to be there tomorrow night when she goes on,” He continued. “All of us,”

“Tomorrow?” Barba’s eyes perked up. “Tomorrow night, you want me to go see Y/N?”

“ALL of us,” He emphasized. “But, yeah,”

“Sounds good,” He replied as nonchalant as he could, trying to hide his excitement. He missed you so badly, it scared him how much it hurt not to have you in his life on a daily basis.

“Uh huh,” Fin chuckled, nodding to Olivia. “I’ll see you back at the station,”

“Actually I was on my way out, I’ll see you tomorrow night Rafa,” She winked at him.

As soon as they left his office, Rafael did a fist pump in the air like a kid. He was going to see you, after so long.

He couldn’t wait. He just hoped you couldn’t either.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #rafael barba imagine #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu fanfiction #caught in the storm

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moonlit-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Aftermath)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is about 17 or 18; i cried while writing this. sorry this is really long!!! pls forgive me 🥺

prompt: takes place from a3 to smffh

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Intense Years (3) Continued (5)

let’s start on a happy note! ahahah

so for a while, earth was calm

you, pepper, and tony got to be a family for a while

wedding planning!

of course you got to try the ben&jerry’s ice cream named after your dad: Stark Raving Hazelnuts

“it’s not fair that you got ice cream named after you and i didn’t”

“well, when you grow up to be as awesome as me, maybe you’ll get your own ice cream flavor”

developing nanotech suits together for a Bonding Experience(tm)

speechless after the first test

“dad, this is...”

“the coolest thing to ever exist?”

“yes!!”

yall ready for some shit?

the day that ebony maw invaded was pretty—what’s the word? interesting? no. well, yes, but...HORRIBLE.

it all started when you got the call from your dad

“y/n, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“god, i really have to change that. okay, JOSHIE, answer it. hey, dad? what’s up?”

“hey, kid! you know that weird ass building on bleecker street? how fast can you get here?”

“JOSH can you track FRIDAY really quick? lets see how far dad is...uh, okay, be there in five, see ya”

taking your suit for a spin and realizing how GREAT it was to be able to basically fold up your suit and put it in your back pocket

knocking on the door and it opened on its own, it was kinda cool

“is this a museum? cool.”

bruce turning around to see you after about three years and giving you an awkward smile and a wave while you stood frozen around the wizard-guys

“y/n, god, you’ve grown up!”

charging into him for a long overdue hug

“you don’t know how much i missed you. it’s been chaotic without you”

“i can...i can only imagine”

a debriefing on the situation you were about to face, and bonus! having to play the catch-up game with bruce

“just call him, dad. we need as much help as we can. steve will understand”

rushing outside to face off with some ugly-ass aliens

“oh nooo, it’s roger smith from american dad”

bruce: 👀, stephen: 👀, wong: 👀, tony: 👏👏🥰 that’s my girl

simultaneous nanosuit unveiling

“you ready for this one, pops?”

“of course! ive waited years to kick some more alien ass”

montage of you and tony getting your asses beat together (as a family <3)

peter showing up

“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t send you back to that school bus”

“because i’m good company?”

“whatever, just listen to whatever dad has to say, i forfeit my responsibilities over you”

pew pew, repulsors, pew, tiny rockets! fun! action! destroying new york again and again. good times...

until JOSHUA gave you notice that your dad was flying high

“call him. now.”

“hey! how’s it going down there?”

“dad, you know how i feel about you and space”

“i know, i know. i just...i gotta take care of this. keep pepper safe for your old man, okay?”

“i lo—l—ve y—”

“y/n? y/n?! i love you! shit!”

“we lost connection with her, sir”

trying to call peter

“call failed, y/n. should i try again?”

“i’m gonna kill them...”

walking through the rubble to find bruce, the only sensible man you know

taking him to the avengers compound asap to get to rhodey and figure out what comes next

meanwhile, tony was dealing with space and another teenager

and worrying a lot about leaving you on earth

“i mean, mr. stark, y/n’s one of the most capable people i know. she’s probably trying to fix this whole mess as we speak”

“i didn’t get to tell her i love her”

“oh...”

having a lovely meeting with thaddeus ross with rhodey, having a lovely time watching them passive-aggresively argue until your former teammates arrived

having to patiently (and professionally) wait for ross to hang up before running into them for a hug

“holy shit, you guys have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to see you. it sucks not being all together anymore”

“i know, y/n. we’ve all missed you.” -cap

“a lot” -nat added

bruce’s little entrance that was sure to bring some awkwardness

you, secretly freaking out about your dad

sam was the one that found you crying after you “stepped out” for a few minutes too long

“oh, y/n,” he was contemplating grabbing someone else to step in, but decided to sit next to you in the hallway, “i’m sorry, kiddo. i can’t promise you anything, but your dad is a fighter. a big pain in the ass. i think your odds are good”

laughing through your tears

“yeah, you’re right. thanks, sammy”

he gave you a little hug while you calmed down

getting to business, the ass-kicking kind

as the wise natasha romanoff once said to your father, you were being “uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal”

your mind did this funny thing...wandered into places it really should not go

the talk about sacrificing vision led to wakanda, where you had a swell time patrolling

“guys! we’ve got incoming. a lot of incoming”

well-deserved uncle/niece team up. who wouldve thought?

you would have nightmares about these aliens for years to come

“you get to die, and you get to die! everybody gets to die!”

“y/n, what did we talk about?” -rhodey

“using humor as a defense mechanism makes the team uncomfortable...”

covering the girls 😌 because we gotta have those all-girl teamups, uh-huh?

some more blasting

thor made his comeback and you just could not miss it

“hi, thor!”

you landed next to him and your helmet receded

“well, hello, miss y/n! good to see you again! my, you got taller...oh! meet my friends: rabbit and tree”

having a “what the actual fuck” moment upon seeing thanos for the first time

and flying at him from behind with a massive nanotech blade ready to kill this purple bastard

but he grabbed your arm and flung you into the dirt, that was gonna leave a mark

“i just had to make a suit when i was ten...no one stopped me, huh? i couldn’t be elon’s kid, he was a nice guy”

watching thanos snap his fingers and looking around to see dust floating through the air and thanos retreat

“rhodey? uncle rhodey?!”

“i’m right here, kid, don’t worry”

he grabbed your hand while you were dusting

“tell my dad i love him, promise?”

fading away and leaving rhodey with your last words

he was mad before anything else

all he could think about was a promise your dad made him take years back

“rhodey, you keep my daughter safe no matter what, promise?”

the avengers recooperating at the compound, waiting to figure out whether any of the space-crew survived

they had to let pepper know that you didn’t make it, she was a mess upon hearing that news

tony finally making his way back to earth

and stumbling out of that ship

“where’s y/n? where is she?!”

“tony, tony, calm down”

“dont tell me to calm down! where is my daughter?!”

“she made me promise to tell you thay she loves you”

tony knew the answer by now, he lost his mind over your death

it didn’t feel right not having you by his side, for the past 18 years you’ve been with him

after a long period of recovery, tony and pepper moved on, got married, built a home, had a new daughter...

tony made sure there was a spare room for you

he put all the things you left behind in it

there were so many photos of you in the house

and he’d show your sister, morgan, all of them. he wanted morgan to know her sister

“that’s y/n when she built her first robot. it snuck up on me a few times. it went ‘boo!’”

morgan loved the stories about you, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t see you

“when do i get to meet her?”

“uh...maybe someday, sweetie”

after being unbothered for almost 5 years, the remaining avengers came back with a plan that was so tempting, he just wanted his little girl back

cracking under pressure and telling pepper that he couldn’t ignore this mission because it was his chance to get you back

“get her back, tony”

“you think so?”

“i miss her, too.”

and so it began, he made it his mission to get you back

peeking at the wallet picture of you on his shoulders when you were so little

tony travelling to 2012; loki’s invasion

and there you were, the sassy genius 12 year old that he missed so much

“we’ve got this, tony, we’ll bring her home” -scott

and then things went badly and also 2012 tony went into cardiac arrest and 2012 y/n dove onto the floor to tend to him

“dad? give us some room, would you?!”

2023 tony smiling at how much he missed you worrying about him and how reckless he was

but also...the mission kinda went bad so that sucked

push it a bit farther back and now tony was with grandpa stark! asking how to be a dad and all that!

he could barely stand still waiting for you to come back to him, god he missed you more than he thought

and after a bit of hard work, it was time to snap

just like that, you were back in wakanda, puzzled by the gap in time before one of dr. strange’s portals opened in front of you

and then you were in the ruins of the avengers compound

“JOSHUA, can you locate my dad?”

“i think you’ll be able to see him”

“wow, i cant believe i programmed your cocky artificial ass”

“i think you can”

seeing your dad flying high and patching into the comms

“miss me, old man?”

and then he hit the gas to get to you and when this man hugged you, you almost couldn’t let go

“i’m so sorry, y/n. god, i’m sorry. these last five years...i was so lost without you”

“it’s okay, dad, i’m here now”

getting shot at during your reunion

“son of a bitch...we’re having a family moment here, asshole!”

yes, im gonna say it again. of course i am! and.........father/daugher team-up

the last one

“peter, is that you? you asshole! i cant believe you went to space without me!”

“missed you too!”

rhodey!! cant forget about uncle rhodey!!

“you gave my dad the message, right?”

“it was your dying wish, of course i did!”

“great. don’t forget i love you, too, rhodey!”

“couldn’t let me forget it”

lest we forget that pepper joined the fight?

plot twist: (step)mother/daughter team-up

mother/father/daugher team up!!!! ultimate stark machine!!!!!!!

and then you left him alone for 5 minutes and he’s got the infinity stones and you know it’s the last time you’re going to see him and you cant decide what your next move is and you’re just frozen and you cant catch your breath and he snaps and your heart plummets

you have to rush to his side, the last time you can sit beside his tired body and let him know that its going to be okay

“hey dad, it’s okay, we’re gonna be fine. thank you for everything”

peter grabbing your hand as you both sobbed next to your dad, feeling robbed of your time with him

pepper brought you home where she told you all about the five years you missed

both of you just cried harder than you’ve ever cried before

“so i have a sister?”

morgan was so happy to meet you, she couldn’t contain herself, practically latched onto you

and she didn’t fully understand what happened to tony

you saw your new room for the first time and didn’t leave it for a while, occasionally pepper or morgan would pop in

morgan actually crawled into bed with you a few times

the funeral was one of the worst days of your life

the remnants of your young life pulled back together for one day

then you hid back in your room before you heard a knock

“who is it?”

“it’s happy”

“come in”

“hey, kiddo. me and morgan are gonna get some cheeseburgers, you wanna come?”

she really was a stark

after a long hibernation, you started to get back into the groove of your old life

but the press was brutal and harsh, you were bombarded with questions regarding your dad

it took everything not to explode on camera

you stayed in contact with the rest of the avengers, mourning your dead, keeping the support system, staying a family

it was all you could get...for now

#tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark #iron man x daughter!reader #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #iron man #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers

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sparklinpixiedust · 4 years ago

Text

Basic Training

This post has been sitting in my drafts for months now, during which I've come up with a few ways I wanted to write this post. This is what I've come up with.

Basic Training is the episode which made me hate Ben the most. The whole episode consisted him of being a stuck up brat only to be rewarded for it in the end.

This episode was the perfect opportunity to have Kevin in the spotlight and show how skilled and smart he is.

Gwen's presence in this episode was actually fine, there's no change needed for that.

Look, I know the shows named Ben 10 but we have seen Ben be the hero tons of times already.

And Ben being egoistic about his heroism is not something new in the franchise.

There have been episodes on the OS where Ben got a big head, yet I dont ever see anyone complaining about that.

Was is it because he was 10 that we excuse this behaviour? Nope.

15 - 16 is still pretty young and his attitude can be excused at this age as well.

My opinion? It was handled better in the OS.

There were times when Ben wasn't always the main focus.

In Lucky Girl, Ben has his ' who's your hero?' Moment.

They showed Gwen feeling jealous and hurt by the fact she wasn't noticed much.

It was realistic.

Then the epsiode proceeded to focus on Gwen , having Ben being kind of like a sub plot to the story.

Towards the end Ben compliments her.

So yeah Ben got big head, but at the same time they shifted focus so that the audience wouldn't find it annoying.

Gwen was in the spotlight for a bit, giving people a break from Ben.

Secondly , in Be Afraid Of The Dark, Ben again is shown to be slightly stuck up, but towards the end of that episode he learns and acknowledges Gwen and Grandpa for help and understands his crime fighting is more of a team effort.

In Galactic Enforcers, we are shown there are other heros besides Ben as well.

Ben wasn't the sole focus of that episode. Yes it was about him but also about the Galactic Enforcers.

I don't think he was shown to be over confident here , but it was nice to see some other heros in the scene.

The Ben 10,000 episode focuses on how Ben was too focused on his job and the lesson at that was Ben needed to relax and have them Galactic Enforcers take the lead instead.

Again , his attitude towards everything was brought in focus but towards the end he learnt something.

I recently started watching Generator Rex and I can't help but compare Rex's character to Ben's.

Rex is also proud , rushes into things and considers himself to be a hotshot. But they also show him being down ,having trouble with his nanites and actually voice out his insecurities.

He's still the hero, still has things go his way most times but it's not annoying like Ben.

( I've only seen like 7 episodes so far so I don't know if this going to go down hil or not but so far so good)

The issue with the sequels after the OS was that Ben was the focus a bit too much.

We as the audience were rarely ever given a break from him.

Other than a few conversations here and there about his attitude, nothing really was done about it.

Gwen should've been appreciated more for saving Kevin and Kevin should've been appreciated for stopping Aggregor.

But they weren't.

If it had been Ben , they would've made sure to show him getting some sort of recognition or trophy.

Back to the Basic Training episode.

We know he's the legendary Ben Tennyson, we know he's a hero. We didn't need another episode on it.

Instead the plot should've focused on Kevin. His skills, his abilities.

Ben would act the same but Magsiter Hulka should've put some sort of cover so Ben couldn't use the omnitrix.

Ben goes on breaking rules, and having a hard time being a hero without the watch.

Towards the end, it should've been Kevin who cracks the case and saves Hulka. Ben is mad he can't use the omnitrix but instead uses the guns and other weapons he's learnt to use at the academy

He's not amazing at them , but it makes him realise that he is hero , watch or not, something that has been emphasised in the show. Its not impossible for him to function without the watch.

Towards the end, Ben getting a 95 was a stretch. I'm sorry , but the guy wasn't great with using weapons and without the watch I dont think he would've been able to complete that hostage excercise.

I'm thinking more like 89%.

Gwen gets 98, that's fine and Kevin gets a 100.

Hulka comes in and awards the medal (?) to Kevin, suggesting he's becoming more like his father.

( im ignoring the ret con, plus the retcon I'm assuming wasnt thought off at this point by the writers)

Ben is shown to take one of the guns back to earth, because he thinks they're cool and he wants to practice and get better at them.

The whole hostage situation makes him want to get better at making strategies.

Yes he's good at improv, but he needs to learn to properly plan as well.

It doesn't matter if he's never shown to use the gun ever again, and he's back to relying on the omnitrix.

Or maybe some time down the line, he could use the weapon, even if it for a second, to show that he is improving and getting better.

Before you say 'he's already a hero, he doesn't need to learn anything ' sorry but no.

He's 16. He may have saved the world but he still has growing up to do. Different battles are going to arise all the time.

Saying he is perfect at 16 is dumb. Saying he's perfect when he's ben 10k , it'll make some sense. He's been around for a while and is pretty experienced.

The watch is a part of him, but seeing him try to explore other options would've been a fresher idea.

Another scene that made me mad was the court (?) scene in Vreedle, Vreedle.

Ben being a hero shouldn't make him above the law.

Domstol ruling in favor of Ben just because he's the legendry Ben Tennyson was stupid.

After Ben's little monologue , and destroying Domstols desk, the judge should've just informed him that being a hero does not excuse him from following the law.

Kevin could've had his little moment doing some negotiation ( would've been nice to see how he works as con artist) and Ben could've jumped in and helped while making some good points for the argument, showing us he's not stupid.

Then having Domstol rule in their favor would've made sense.

On the way back to earth there could've been a joke about how Ben watches Judge Judy too much which is where he learnt about trials and stuff. Or maybe Gwens dad taught him a thing or two at some point.

All this doesn't mess with Ben's character all that much, he's still the hero of the show, he still has his ego but it makes him more likeable, shifts focus from his attitude, and shows us he's pretty smart and is growing into a good hero.

Ben's not a bad guy. I mean he is the hero of the show. There are tons of scenes which show he's good , like the whole sacrificing thing so the ultimates could live and all.

But little scenes here and there tend to be enough for someone , especially for someone who isn't a super hard-core Ben lover to form negative opinions on him.

Although calling him a psychopath / narc is out of line because I don't find him to be like that. His attitude was magnified by him being in the spotlight too much and writers not having a good balance in writing situations.

Ben being the main character of the show is at risk of becoming hated or less appreciated just because he's the font runner of the show.

Admit it, side characters tend to get more love most times than the main agonist of shows.

I've been watching videos on YouTube on this topic as to why this happens , and what I've come up with is that writers of shows tend to focus too much on main character. Things seem to go their way most times and this tends to get on peoples nerves, consciously or subconsciously because it's not exactly realistic.

Having shows where everything focuses on one person most times tend to backfire.

I don't mind Ben having a big head, I dont mind him making jokes and being so casual.

It's his defense mechanism to protect himself from drowning into the struggles and pressures of being a hero. But always having him be that way isn't good.

The writers should've executed it properly.

( okay this post got really long, more than I thought it would. If you're read the whole things , congratulations on making it here lol.

I'm not going to stop anyone from replying to this because everyone has different opinions and we all have the freedom to express them.

Although I believe I've made my point and I've made sure to keep in mind all the arguments about why bashing Ben is wrong when he's not a bad guy while typing this out.

I don't think I've directed any major hate towards him , its mostly towards the writers for making the situations like that,but if you think I have you can reply to it.

I'm not gonna reply back though , because again I feel I've made my point.

Any agreements / disagreements you have with the post feel free to share because it is your right.

Any disagreements you have with other members, as long as its related to the post you can share it.

Any issues you have personally with other members, please keep them to your selves.

I will not tolerate bullying , harassing, name calling and petty arguments on my post and blog page.

If this happens I will simply delete this post and re-upload it.)

#ben 10 au #ben 10 #kevin levin #ben 10 alien force #ben tennyson #ben 10 reboot #ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 analysis #ben 10 series #ben 10 critical #ben 10 classic #my take

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soniana-draws · 4 years ago

Photo

Bonus: A happy family

Someone asked for my shaunzer fanchild info just in time for me to drop this lol

FINALLY the sketch dump of Mixie(Shaun and Bitzer's adopted daughter) stuff. Looks messy with the traditional and digital together but I already procrastinated her development a lot so it'll stay like this.

I apologize for the inconsistency, my only explanation besides of me not knowing how to draw is that Mixie is in different moments of her childhood here. The dots eyes are from when she's a baby, and tho she's short overall you can see she's a bit taller in the last image.

I'll make another post for her grown-up years later, but for now have this mess

Context for the pics, various facts about her and dads shenanigans under the cut: (warning long post)

-Like I already explained in this old comic, the Farmer was the one who brought her to the farm. The farmer thought they would need another sheepdog in the future, but Bitzer seemed too defensive about the idea of meeting a female dog to have puppies(Bitzer was already taken by a certain sheep -eyes emoji-) so...since the man had been thinking of adopting another dog for a while now, finding Mixie in a box while in town just clicked.

-The idea of being parents had already crossed Shaun and Bitzer's minds by the time Mixie arrived, but neither of them jumped straight up to adopting that title at first. Bitzer was told he was going to be the puppy's tutor, so tried(and failed) to keep it formal like that. He was like those dads that say they won't get attached to the dog then you see them spoiling them to no end lmao. -Shaun from his part had no problem playing with her right away. But between helping Bitzer watch over her, having the rest of the farm being upset with him whenever she did something bad, and basically repeating what happened with Lu-la; he just ended acting like a dad with her. -Shaun ends being more of a first-time parent than Bitzer because of that lol. Cons of not being the one in charge of taking care of all farm since young. -Mixie was a bit of an energetic troublemaker when she was really young, but it were small things like always running off to where she wasn't supposed to be or playful biting. By the time she learned how to walk in two she became a pretty calm pup. This was good for Bitzer's stress, but it came with the problem of him blaming Shaun or someone else in the few cases where she did something bad because 'Mixie is so calm she would NEVER' or 'but YOU were supposed to keep an eye on her', etc etc. -Shaun loves to bring her to the weekly shenanigans and, once she grows a little, teaching her the basics of building things. She has tons fun in all of them and has no problems ending with her hair a mess in the process. This drives Bitzer crazy because, as someone who likes to take care of his hair, he can't stand how messy those two are(he always ends combing Mixie's hair since she won't bother to). -Once Mixie learns how to walk in two she starts training to be sheepdog, helping around with little tasks and such. In her eyes Bitzer is her idol, someone who always has everything under control and never makes mistakes. She hopes to be a grand sheepdog like him one day, but has the Problem of being distracted easily by anything and being generally quiet and shy(in other words, not showing authority). That's the least thing a sheepdog has to act like. Bitzer doesn't say it but with how serious he is about his guardian dog role...that worries him. -According to an interview Bitzer's name comes from a British terms for mutts('Bits-of-this-and-bits-of-that'), so when naming the new puppy the farmer had that in mind and settled for Mixie(since she's also a mix). -She treats the farmer as a her grumpy but good-hearted grandpa and vice versa. The farmer is in some cases less strict with her, since she's a child, but overall treats her like Bitzer as in if he can give her a task to avoid doing himself, he'll do it. -She gets along well with the flock, some of the chickens and...due to her dad recommendations she stays away from the pigs and the bull place. Timmy is her playmate in occasions. Despite him being a lil grown up now, and having had an initial jealously over not being the lil one of the farm anymore, they have fun playing pretend and all those things just fine. Timmy learns a bit of responsibility by having to look after her during her moments of curiosity getting her in trouble. -Between Shaun not being that strict of a dad, Bitzer seeing her as an angel, and the general soft spot of everyone for her being a puppy she ends being a tad spoiled. She's not a brat, but has used her puppy eyes more than one bc they always worked(except with the farmer). She only uses them to ask for food tho. -Overall she acts like a dog, but spending so much time with the flock has made her pick up sheep attitudes as well. She likes grazing and enjoyed headbutting to play when baby. -She's always trying new things in hopes of finding a hobby she's good at. She thinks both of her dads are really talented in a lot of things while she's just clumsy puppy. Everyone sees it as she's just playing but actually she's frustrated at not finding anything yet.

#shaun the sheep #shaunzer #aardman #mixieverse

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weeklyfangirl · 5 years ago

Text

Frat Boy Pt. 20

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19

Happy New Year!!!!!! Here’s a party and a hot guy loving on you - and you don’t even have to leave your home ;)

I haven’t been to many therapist offices after I started high school. This one was free, on student-life. Reproduced images of the sea were comforting enough, but it was the dreary stained carpet that reminded me where I was.

“Do you think they’re related to the night you were assaulted?”

“Yes. But I don’t know how to get rid of them. I lose sleep and then when I do sleep, I have these nightmares and I wake up more restless than if I’d just stayed up all night.”

“Hm. And how do you feel about Harry?”

“Harry?”

She nodded. “Yes, the boy in your dreams.” Her French manicured nails squeezed the top of her clipboard.

“That’s not an easy question.”

“Try.”

I sighed. “Okay…” The painted seagull in her office looked like an on-clearance print at TJ Maxx, and suddenly I wished I’d called my mother for her own version of therapy instead. Bargain shopping. “I think I hate him. But then I know I don’t. But then… I don’t necessarily like him either.”

“Do you love him?”

I laughed. “No, I don’t love him.”

“Why do you laugh?”

“I said I almost hated him and you ask me if I love him!” But my voice was a little too loud. The question stayed with me, stirring in my mind. “I think I’d know if I loved him.”

“Love looks different to different people. Finding a healthy version of love for yourself and your partner is where things can go awry. Or right.”

I remembered Harry and I talking at Alta about Madame Bovary, and how I’d told him that people love to the best of their abilities, from what they’ve learnt by their circumstances. Silence weighed in the room, and I knew she was waiting for me to elaborate on my feelings. Bleh.

“I don’t know,” I finally said. “But if this is what love looks like to him… We’re not even technically dating so this question doesn’t even apply!” I laughed again. “But then… even if we were, then... it’s not enough.”

“And what would be enough for you?”

“Stability.”

“And do you think this is possible with him?”

“Umm…” Zayn’s voice popped in my head - Harry was a magnet for infamy - and I laughed. I laughed, and I laughed...“No.”

“And why is that?”

“Because he self-sabotages. And he says things he doesn’t mean.”

“Such as...?”

A puff of breath left my lips. “Like last night, he said I didn’t have a life. And then he was comparing me to another girl. Viv. She’s like his… sister, basically. She grew up with him. But… he got really defensive and said at least she fucks me. But the fact that he said I don’t have a life?? A LIFE?? I mean shit, it’s not my fault he’s infiltrated my dreams is it?”

She shook her head. “It’s very important for you not to blame yourself. Show yourself the same kindness you’d show your friends. Renny, for example.”

Be kind to yourself.

I nodded. Those were the words my mother would say whenever I’d critique myself. Just like all those times before, the words registered, but it didn’t change anything about the frustration I felt. I was the one dumb enough to let him in. I’d let myself be dragged into him, even with every red flag hitting me in the face. I was collecting them for a meme bouquet at this point!

“Do you believe him?” she asked.

It took me a minute to hear her.

“The words he said to you,” she said. “That you don’t have a life.”

A timer beeped on her phone. She muted it. “I’d like you to write out what you want in your life for next time. Not what anybody else wants. But what Y/N wants. When you see it written out, no matter how silly it seems, having concrete answers might help.”

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

I was staring at my notes page, trying to think of what I wanted. I didn’t exactly have the chance to ask her what she meant by that. Did she mean career goals? Education goals? Relationship goals? What did this have to do with ending my nightmares?

A text at the top of my phone distracted me from the blank page.

Kiki: “Don’t worry, we didn’t forget about you. Get your hands on the special airhead pills from Harry’s and bring them to the DG Pretty Please Party next week. On the DL obvi.”

Viv chimed in on the group chat. “Congrats bitch! It’ll be fun for all of us.” She included the devil emoji.

This is what I got for stalling up until the last minute to walk into work. The practice was now a blatant reminder that Harry was out of my life and it didn’t help whenever I saw Lionel. It felt weird that I was seeing his dad more than him. Wrong, even.

Voices carried through the lot along with the clicking of heels. I turned my head.

Boss Lady Samantha was headed towards the elevator.

Shit, Y/N. Shit shit shit.

I got out, quietly closing the door. Better to walk with my boss than walk in late after her, right? Her red hair was let down today, ringlet curls in full effect. I could meet her at the elevator before it arrived.

But right when I was about to shout out hold the elevator Lionel walked right behind her. And I mean RIGHT behind her - there was hardly room for a Bible between them.

I hid behind my car, unsure if I was supposed to be seeing this.

Their voices were too low to hear, but his arm lingered at her lower back before the elevator opened. She got in. Alone. Lionel looked over his shoulder and I ducked further.

Through Grandpa’s windows, I saw the elevator door close. Lionel waved goodbye to Samantha and he pressed the button again.

Before chickening out, my shoulders straightened. I shouldn’t have to be the one hiding. I jogged to make it. His brows shot up in surprise as he held the elevator for me. The kindness I’d gotten used to seeing in his eyes looked hesitant this time.

“A little late today?” he asked, as soon as I’d made it in.

I avoided his eyes, nodded. It was a quiet elevator ride.

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

My family’s house was a ten minute drive from the practice. Enough drive time to sit on what I’d seen outside Coast Shores Medicine. It could’ve been friendly. I didn’t have to do anything about this. But in my bones, I knew that friendly isn’t what I’d seen. Lionel avoided me the rest of the day, assigning me to print out billing statements. I hadn’t seen them make out or anything, but there was a certain intimacy I couldn’t write off right away. Did Mrs. de Saude know about his close work relationships? Did Harry?

The sickening uneasiness dissipated when I heard my parent’s Home Improvement HGTV hour. Dad was already passed out on the couch, snoring at a whopping 8 PM when I walked through the door. Ignoring Mom’s tutting of “they keep you too late,” we went to my bedroom.

“Pick the nude ones,” Mom said, adjusting the spectacles she only pulled out on rare occasions (magazine reading and shoe selections). “It makes your legs look longer.” It looked like there was something more she wanted to say.

I adjusted them in the mirror, wearing the blush dress I’d bought for my aunt’s beach wedding almost a year prior. It’d never been worn. Her Spanish fiancé she’d met three months prior stole her TV set and ran off with his gay lover a week before. As I stood, the dress just barely touched the floor. Simple, really, but the way the thin straps exposed my chest rendered it elegant. I felt like I needed a long cigarette and fur coat to make it complete.

Without context, Mother suddenly burst into an annoyed huff.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Hm?” Her lashes fluttered as if she hadn’t realized she’d made a noise. “Oh, yes. I’m fine. Your father just took another one of those sleeping pills. You should never get too dependent on medication, Y/N. Drink warm milk or something.”

“Mom.”

“I’m serious!” Her stony face certainly wasn’t comical.

“I know.”

She looked me over in the dress again and caught herself, pulling me in for a rushed hug. “I’m sorry,” she breathed. She rocked me a little. “It’s just been a little rough this week.” She squeezed me tighter, then let me go. All negative energy shoved into a box that’d spring open when we all least expected it. “Have a good night tonight. Say hello to Harry for me!”

When I walked to the car she threw out, “And tell him next time he can ask you with a Cartier ring! HA! I’m joking!! ... Kind of!!!”

I smiled, waving to her at the gate as I got into my Grandpa mobile. I didn’t have the heart to tell her Golden Boy wasn’t my date.

---------

There were two cops for every solo cup I could see littered on the ground. They patrolled the streets, but the frat house seemed unphased and restored to its former glory as I walked with Andre. Club music pounded beyond the doors, practically shaking the windows. Girls huddled up outside, holding each other’s hair back and trying to block anyone’s view from the bile, as the guys snickered over their shoulders and some pretended not to see. But the cops weren’t here to reprimand for underage drinking and public intoxication tonight. They were on watch. Stationed around the perimeter of the house and on either end of the street.

They were waiting for something else. For somebody else.

Andre seemed oblivious, practically skipping past them he was so excited. I, on the other hand, was already limping from the nude pumps.

“Wanna switch shoes?” he called back.

“Don’t make a deal you aren’t willing to keep,” I smiled, quirking a brow. “The nude would actually match your navy suit…”

He’d already walked on, fist bumping the bouncer who raised up a professional-grade camera and snapped a photo of us. When my eyes recovered from the flash, I spotted Officer Ramirez from the uniforms just beyond the frat’s ramshackle fence. He was already watching me. He raised two fingers above his brow and I nodded, curtly, even though I wanted to shrink inside myself. I hadn’t had the time to think about what I would say if he contacted me again, or if I should be the one to reach out to him.

Andre led me inside, and for once, I was glad I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. It raised ten degrees just from stepping inside. The boys were in Bond suits, but most had abandoned their jackets wherever they could - on the banister, the couch beneath the staircase, or the entrance hall. The girls had dressed up, too. This was the most covered up I think I’d seen some of them, though others still opted for above-the-knee slips.

“Oi, where’s your drink?!” Niall’s familiar voice shouted above the bass.

He pulled Andre into a side hug before we reached the dancefloor. When he saw me, Niall practically fell over.

“Y/N! What’re you doing here?” He spluttered, whiskey in his breath. The knot of his tie was already to his chest, but he loosened it even more. He looked over his shoulder, then back to me. “Renny’s just gone to the bathroom.”

“She’s my date,” Andre stepped in, placing an arm around my shoulder. It was completely platonic but Niall’s face went to stone.

Suddenly it cracked, and he laughed, running a hand over his stubbly chin. “Oh, shit.” He laughed again. “Shit!”

Andre smiled, unaware of anything else besides the fact that Niall must be proud he showed up with a date. He patted Niall’s shoulder. “We’re going to see the big bro, I’ll find you later.” Andre nodded his head for me to follow, leaving Niall cackling to himself in the entranceway.

“Niall’s THE. MAN,” he put his hands up for emphasis. “He’s my favorite in the house besides my big. We gotta say hi, then you can run off. Oh, Renny’s here too!” He squeezed my shoulders as if to excite me, as if she’d be the reason I’d stay. Loved the girl, but I knew she’d be back on top of Niall five minutes after she was out. I just didn’t want to have to watch.

I wrung my hands together, growing nervous. I knew the reason Niall had reacted that way was because Harry was going to be here. I knew this coming into it. But I’d been expecting him to ignore me the entire night. With Niall’s reaction, I wasn’t so sure anymore. What had Harry told Niall?

Someone sloshed their beer on me as I passed, and I turned sour, rolling my eyes as Andre pushed us forward. I picked up the pace before he could notice I’d stopped and wiped the glare off my face. Or, tried. I probably just looked constipated now.

WHY WAS HIDING EMOTION SO HARD??

I felt bad feeling so annoyed. Andre was excited. I should be excited, right? Sloshed beer and sweaty bodies came with the territory. Though I’d forgotten how humid it got in here. Hell and Florida were probably cooler. I picked up the ends of my dress, hoping for some sort of ventilation to reach parts of me that were on the verge of overheating.

The coffee tables and couches had been moved from the center of the living room to the fringes beneath the stairwell to make designated smoking and dancing sections. I could’ve stayed on the outside of the dance crowd. Hell, I could’ve joined the spaced-out smokers on the couch. But I didn’t. I followed Andre to the middle of the dance floor. I could barely see above the tops of people’s heads until we reached a bit of a clearing. And by clearing, I meant the sweaty dancers in front of us who made a break for freedom and gave us about ten seconds of space before other bodies rushed to fill it.

I felt him before I saw him. A tiny prick of consciousness that directed my gaze. And Andre’s finger.

“AYYYY!!!!!” Andre pointed to the DJ booth, waving his hands as he hollered.

Even with the rocking vibration of the bass that chattered my teeth, each nerve in my body went alert. Harry stood, flashing a white smile to the crowd before downing the rest of whatever potion was in his cup. I hated how my stomach clenched just by seeing him. He saw Andre and his smile grew, grabbing the mic. I was still unnoticed, hidden by dim lighting and nameless peers.

“Who’s ready for us to win tomorrow!?” His voice was low, demanding. It was a question for the crowd, but he was looking at Andre. I could sense the intensity even there, and it was then I realized it couldn’t be just me who feels so vulnerable around Harry. Each person he traps in his gaze stays there, until he lets them go.

The house erupted in cheers, but I was locked in place. The suit he was wearing looked similar to the one from the Halloween gala, and every bit of him looked just as stunning. His beautiful body swayed on the makeshift stage.

“Then let’s see you jump in-” His hand held up 5, 4, 3, 2… He spun another song and the crowd sprung from the floor before crashing back down. They jumped to the beat he made. A modern-day puppet master.

Andre wrapped an arm around me as he jumped. So I did, too.

“That’s my big!!” he yelled, mid-air.

“WHAT??”

He pointed to the DJ booth, but there was no one there besides Harry.

“.... HARRY??! HARRY’S YOUR- your…” I stopped jumping the same second Harry saw us together. It’s funny. It takes only a second to flip a dime on its head. His party boy mask dropped in an instant. The low lighting turned his eyes black, but they couldn’t conceal the daggers he shot straight at me.

“I have to use the bathroom,” I muttered.

Andre nodded. “S’UP THE STAIRS!” He found a friend nearby and latched on to him instead.

The small (okay, medium) part of me filled with nothing but Petty™ wanted Harry to see me with his little. But another part of me couldn’t handle his judgmental glare. Somehow, I was embarrassed. I didn’t want him to think I’d come here tonight to make him jealous. That I was so obsessed with him I’d found another in to the frat. I didn’t want him to think he controlled any part of my heart. What did it say that I ran away at first sight, though?

I’d already done it. It didn’t matter. Either way, I didn’t win.

I raced upstairs, weaving my way between couples sitting on the stairs, hoping that the line for the restroom was really long and Renny hadn’t already left. It was, and she was next in line.

“Oh my God, what are you doing here?!” she screeched, arms out and eyes squinted until I could no longer see her pupil.

“Why do people keep asking me that.”

She pulled me into an extra-long, extra-tight Renny hug. “Love yousoooomuch,” she rushed. Her breath smelled like Niall as she pulled away. She lifted the cup to my lips and I shook my head. She frowned.

“I talked with Niall,” she said. “He says Harry’s just going” - she hiccupped - “through a lot right now. S’best to leave him alone.”

The other girls in line perked up at the mention of his name, subconsciously leaning closer. I huffed. “Trust me. I am.”

When three girls stumbled out of the only bathroom stall, Renny rushed in. “Thank God I was about to pee on the carpet.” She tried tugging me in with her, but my eye was on the end of the hall. And the stupid DG pretty please.

“I’ll be back,” I muttered, squeezing her hand.

“Nooooo,” she drawled.

I squished her cheeks, checked her pupils. She didn’t need me to hold her hair back this time. I gave her cheek a lil slap.

“I’ll go with you next time you have to go. Which will be in like... twenty minutes. You broke the seal rookie!” I teased.

I didn’t even bother looking over the railing at the party below to see if he was watching me. I still had my DG task and a nonrefundable deposit to think about. I didn’t think I’d get many chances to be in this house again unless I swindled Andre or Niall into letting me in. But that would require an explanation, and I wasn’t sure I could tell them that.

Forget explanations. I needed to do it now. Lots of noise. Tons of distractions. I’d just think of it as… borrowing?

His door was locked and I groaned, kicking it and leaving a smudge beside all the others. I reached for a bobby pin in my purse and put it to work. I’d done it before in his bedroom, I could do it again here. The curve of the hallway protected me from onlookers waiting in line in the bathroom. Downstairs was a mixed bag. People could probably see through the railings running along the top floor.

Not that they’d think to look.

My knees were starting to hurt by the time I heard it click. I crept in, and for some reason, I expected his room to look different. But it was still the same. Dusty desk across from a queen-sized bed. Only one photograph atop his bedside mantle. And it didn’t smell like sweaty soccer clothes, but clean. With hints of a woodland spice and books. It felt like eons had passed since I was first here, undressing him like the drunken baby he’d been. As an act of betrayal, my body rushed at the thought of how his fingers had looped around my belt loops, tugging me closer. I swallowed, the image of his tightened pants expanding in my head. He’d almost been hard, then.

It was then, at that moment, that I decided that the one sip of alcohol I’d had must have been spiked with SOMETHING because I would NOT be that girl. I would NOT. I reFUSED TO LET MYSELF-

Seconds later, my fingertips grazed his soft gray sheets. He’d been sprawled out right about here, and the rush of seeing unseen skin on Harry had been too intoxicating an offer to refuse. The ghost of that rush flowed through me again as my memory played it over like a movie. Close-ups and panning shots - Down his toned chest to tattoos speckled along tan skin, tattoos that had been seemingly doodles, but now held much more meaning now that I knew of his history with the ocean. For his sister. My body leant down before I knew what I was doing, and I inhaled. The lingering aroma of his body chemistry altering his cologne: musky, a little spice, and warmth.

Even if every ounce of me wanted to dislike him, the legitimate biology behind my body responded to a chemistry I couldn’t control.

“What are you doing?”

He caught me on my knees, with one hand clutched in the sheets.

Fuckity FUCK-

He could whip out PSYCHO magazine informing people of highly-dangerous murderers with my mugshot plastered across the cover - and I’d believe him in that moment. Oh my gosh. Omgomgomg. He didn’t say what I expected him to say when he swayed in, though.

“Andre. Really?” He laughed to himself, but it was cold. “Fucking” - he stumbled, leaning on the desk chair to catch himself- “really?”

It wasn’t the alcohol that’d put him on edge. I’d seen him handle liquor before, but this time he looked… different. I stood up, realizing his eyes were racking down my dress. I crept towards him, hoping to make it past the door. Not because I was scared of him. But because I was mortified. I’d just looked like an absolute fucking psychopath AND I’d snuck into his bedroom. Maybe I could distract him. Maybe he was too drunk to ask me-

“What’re you doing here?”

“What are we… all doing here? At parties?”

“…in my room,” he clarified.

Welp. My philosophical question fell flat. Wouldn’t be the first time.

I waltzed past him, tight-lipped. In defense of my dignity, I still didn’t owe him anything. Not after how he’d treated me.

“Hey,” his arm jutted out, blocking my way. His brows crossed as he turned to a petulant boy. “S’rude to not answer.”

My blood boiled. “You are not about to give me a lesson on how bad it is to ignore people right now. Nor on being rude.”

“Can give you another one.”

He reached for me, but I stepped back, somewhat living in the hurt that flashed in his eyes at my rejection.

“You’re not leaving.” But his demand sounded like a plead.

“Thought you didn’t want me around you,” I scoffed, tearing past him. “Just because you’re drunk or high or whatever the fuck it is you are right now, doesn’t mean you can just… get a free pass! For a week! A whole week of awful-” I turned quickly, too frustrated to find the words. I took a step towards the door but-

“Y/N.” He was right behind me. His breath warmed the nape of my neck, the delicate hairs standing on end. No matter how much of an absolute mess he was, my body didn’t know better. I could practically feel him behind me, his presence radiating an alarm that blared through my veins. I wanted him. Badly. He trailed a finger down my arm, and his hand brushed against my own against my side. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

His fingers gingerly interlaced with mine, turning me around.

Something wet was on my cheek. I touched it, quickly rubbing it away in horror. Why were tears running down my face?! What unfair cruelty was this!? He saw my tears and leant down, suddenly defeated, pulling my body with him.

“Why did’ya ever want me hm?” His nose went along my jaw. Full lips pressed against the base turned my legs weak. There was an underlying desperation to his words though, a prayer in his kiss. But my thoughts were turning anything but holy.

“Who says I did…” I wanted to pull away, ask him why he’d used past tense or why he’d completely ignored me this past week, but I was frozen by the softness of his hands. Self-respect was surely slipping away each moment I lingered. I could literally see Jane Austen parting the heavens and sticking her angelic head through Harry’s room to shame me with a glare. I do all this mental work to try and figure this guy out and… for what? I should be waltzing out that door, declaring I’d never talk to him again. I should give up messy and confused and pursue my own sanity. But the air only ever turned electric with him, in all his messiness, in all this confusion… and each time the spark appeared, it pushed us closer together until he was here, like this, soft hands gently running along my lower back, skilled fingertips feeling the dress fall slightly inwards at my waist, tracing a map of uncharted waters…

“You’re not thinking straight,” I breathed. And that went for both of us.

“Au contraire, I’m thinking clearer than I ever ‘ave.” There was a swirling madness shining through, but he bat his eyes and it was veiled again, vanished beneath the dark surface. He tilted his head, appraising my body, noticing my legs were no longer tensed to run, but in apprehension for another reason completely. A smirk settled in. “Why do you still want me?” he demanded, pulling me against him towards the bed.

“Arrogant ass,” I sniped, but I landed on him anyway. His fingers tightened around my waist, a hand snaking up behind to entwine with my hair. I felt him harden beneath me as he pulled my head to the side, just the right amount of rough. But he stalled over vulnerable skin, lips ghosting featherlight up to my ear. He let out a soft breath and I clenched in anticipation. For once, I had no thoughts. “You should be with me,” he breathed. “Should be mine.” His voice grew frustrated and he practically growled, lips kissing my neck, steady, before they started to suck in a rhythm. The shock of the sensation masked the shock from his words and my back arched, a spider’s shiver crawling down my spine. He stopped suddenly, shooting back like he’d been shocked. His grip softened ‘round the nape of my neck, and he looked so… confused. “Can’t mark you again,” he noted, despondent. But then the corners of his lips twitched up in a smirk. “Least where it’s visible.” My breath caught. His black ink eyes showed the slightest ring of green. I don’t remember lifting my hand, but fingers trailed along dark circles. These were a new development. I shook my head lightly. Something was wrong. This was wrong. I leant in, resting my head against his. “Harry-” but his lips cut me off before I could mention it.

I felt like I’d been feeling his lips everywhere but my own. They were eager, but kept pace, switching it up just when I was getting comfortable, slowing to make me feel the soft fullness of raspberry-pink lips. They were pillows, and clouds, and everything else soft and wonderful that I’d want to feel forever. He slipped in his tongue, deepening the kiss, and I ground my body against him, using his shoulders as leverage.

This wasn’t me. But I didn’t care enough to think about ‘who I was’ anymore. What did I want?

I felt him pulse between my legs.

“Harry,” I bit my lip, and I knew then. I’ve been wanting more, I’ll always want more. I was more aware than ever of an emptiness he could fill.

“Been hard ever since I saw you bouncing in that dress,” he said gruffly. “With fucking Andr- ahh...fuck.” I rocked my hips against him in spite, putting a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

But his head jutted back and came forward again. He looked at me through hooded eyes, and just like that I was sedated by his gaze, my body pausing. He looked like he was about to scold me. “Do it again.” His voice was low. I stalled, looking at the way his lips barely parted. “Don’t be shy now, Y/N.” My hips replied on command, but rebelliously, slowly, feeling the length of him run between the thin underwear that’d cocooned itself against my ridges and folds. I ran my hips back down against his thigh. “Fu-uhck-” He jutted his hips up, turning something wicked when I moaned. The friction from the dress and pressure from my own body rocking against Harry built a tightly coiled knot I wanted desperately to release. And then we were kissing again. Fervent. Eager. A skilled tongue slipping in to dance with my own. He was rock hard against me. I could feel the full outline pressed tight against his slacks now, creating my own mental map. My hands wrapped in his hair, and I pulled, relaxing our pace, rutting myself up with purpose to rotate in a circle at his clothed tip. The noise from his throat wasn’t human, and I felt heavy and light all at the same time when his thumb dug into my chin just under my lower lip.

“Wanna help you,” he rumbled. “Will you let me? Won’t you do that for me?”

I nodded, wordlessly, and with both hands tight on my hips, he tugged us further back until he was against the pillows, and me, repositioned above him. He pulled us down and we built a rhythm against his thigh, the determination in his stitched brow as he did half the work making it even sexier. He was almost needier than me. There was an urgency to his strong hands as they hiked up my dress, fingertips dancing around and just beneath the band of my underwear. He didn’t pull it off, just gently pushed my hips up and down, then harder, faster, to the damp patch already on his slacks. I was buzzing, every inch of me, the wound coil growing bigger, tighter, the build of release making my heart race. He stared at me as we moved together.

“Tha’s it. So good at this,” he mumbled. “So beautiful.”

My breath caught, and his wide eyes watched wondrously as I moved frenzied above him. His chest rose, bits of tattoo spilling past the white button-down collar. My hand clutched his shirt as I felt myself begin to peak. This was as intimate as I’ve been with someone, and the pressure of being seen through his eyes like this was a lot of pressure. I didn’t want to think about how many other girls had been in this position before. What he spoke to them, how they looked, what they’ve done, or how recently they’d done it. His hand cupped my face and brought me down, lips claiming me to the point of bruising and silencing voiceless thoughts. The pull of his lips, and the sturdiness of his thigh made me whimper. My swollen bud hit his clothed cock with each surge upwards, his hands guiding me, making sure my breath hitched each time. And each time, I’d feel him tense. Again, and again, just knowing his thick hard cock was against me, right against me, almost…

“Almost… Harry…”

“Y/N,” he rasped. I felt his hot gaze as I shuddered above him. He kissed me, slow, swallowing another whimper as a current of electricity ran from the crown of my head to my toes. His hands helped me ride out my high, slowly coming to a halt.

He opened his arms, letting me cuddle up against his chest. Silence stretched on over quiet breathing. “Been waiting a long time for that,” he finally mumbled. I quirked an eye open, realizing he’d been watching me. I almost didn’t recognize his eyes. For once, they seemed sated. Unhaunted. The clouds had seemed, for a moment, to have parted. “To see you cummm.” He hummed the last word, leaning down and nuzzling the nook of my neck. Still nuzzling, he quirked half his face to look at me. We shared a long kiss, then a shorter one to my forehead. “You’re magnificent.”

Though I hadn’t removed a stitch of clothing, I hadn’t felt more naked. And for all the times I’d felt embarrassed around Harry, at least in this moment, he made me feel comfortable about what we’d just done. We lay there, my scent now mingling with the rest of his in the room. I still felt him hard beneath my legs that were strewn across his lap, and I wondered if it was … painful. He stirred, placing one hand behind his head, the other wrapped around me.

I traced shapes into his chest. He hummed, smiling softly. It was his boyish smile. The one I’d hardly seen, the one that you want to wrap up and cuddle and protect from the world to keep this one second of pure happiness intact. I pecked the corner of his mouth and his smile broke, squeezing my side. “Thank you,” he mumbled. I checked to make sure his eyes were still closed when I looked down at the black slacks. Since I finished, he should, too. I swallowed nervously as my fingers traced lower, down the button down as I tried to remember the porn Renny and I had watched together one late summer night. His eyelashes fluttered open, and he watched me, curiously, darkly, until I stopped at the tip of his pants. I slipped my fingers beneath the belt, just barely feeling the coarseness of hair before he took my wrist in his hand. He practically hissed and I stilled, not noticing I was holding my breath. I couldn’t possibly be doing this wrong…

His index finger stroked the top of my hand, and I relaxed.

He looked at me gently. “Tonight was for you. S’all I wanted.” His touch was just as gentle, and he placed his thumb between my lips, running over them gently. I didn’t want him to see me as some pure untouched thing he should be scared to do anything with. My lips parted as seductively as I could make them appear, and I moved to let his finger in my mouth, but he cheekily closed my lips instead.

He stroked my cheek, almost giggling at my attempt. “This just isn’t how I picture it happening.”

The way his eyes were memorizing my lips told me he’d thought about this before, but I didn’t miss that he said how, and not where. Muffled EDC music vibrated his door, and faraway voices travelled through his open window from the yard below. The cops were waiting there, too. Was that the situation he was referring to?

“You deserve a lot, Y/N.”

I heard the hesitancy in his voice, some unforeseen disappointment he wouldn’t just spell out for me. “What’re you saying.”

“Just that there’s few things I want t’be sober for these days.”

The thought hit my stomach like the sharpened blade of a knife, and it hurt worse than any wound from my nightmares. “Why would you say something like that?” I demanded.

“Because it’s true.” His eyes searched mine, and I saw the sadness pulling him in. Like the tumultuous water of the middle of the ocean spirally inwards into itself. A treacherous water hole that’d carry you into its deepest abyss.

I shook my head as if to find a way out, as if that would clear away what I was seeing. “I never… know what’s going on with you,” I admitted. I thought to the interaction with Lionel and Samantha. “Is home life really that bad?”

“What home?” He huffed when I looked at him. “M’serious. I feel more alone when I walk in there than I do when I’m here. And nobody even fucking knows me here.”

“Everyone knows you.”

“You’re smarter than that, Y/N.”

“What’d you take tonight, hm?” I cooed. My hand traced the dark circles under his eyes, and he leant against my touch before looking to the window, still allowing me to touch him. No doubt from whatever stimulant or depressant he’d taken, his words had been more candid than ever before.

“A cocktail of sorts. Will fucking regret it in the mornin’. Probably.”

He looked back to me, and I didn’t have time to wipe the concern from my face. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter,” he stated.

He really believed it when he said it, and the way there didn’t seem to be enough energy left in him made me settle back in his arms with a frown. Because it did matter. It mattered a lot. A few moments later, he squeezed my sides. “You didn’t answer my question,” he mumbled.

“What question?”

He waited until I looked up at him, and even then he was hesitant. His voice was quiet when he spoke, intimate, so if even if someone was standing at the foot of the bed they couldn’t hear what he was about to ask.

“Why do you want me, Y/N?”

The vulnerable question hung in the air. And though it was presumptuous of him to ask, he wasn’t wrong. His eyes read me like a book he’d read a hundred times over. He saw me. I swallowed, my brain and heart at an all-out war. Unfortunately for me, they captured my tongue in a stale-mate. “I don’t know what I want.”

And it was true. The dilemma was the following:

The only thing my body wanted was him.

But my brain didn’t know if that’s what I should be wanting anymore.

And my heart was left in the middle of them both, not sure what it was feeling.

I felt him shrug. “I get it. I have so many opinions shouting at me in my head right now. About soccer, my fucked family, about” - he threw his hands between us.

After Niall had greeted me at the door, I was sure Harry had talked about us in some capacity. But how many people had opinions on our relationship? “Let me guess. Viv shares her opinion about us.”

“I don’t listen to hers.”

“But hey, at least she fucks you right.”

He sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean that.”

“But it’s true, right? So no need to apologize.”

The room froze over. Just the thought of her whispering in his ear was enough to trigger an entire week’s worth of pent-up animosity.

“So maybe people are confused why Viv and I aren’t together but I couldn’t give a fuck about what they think. I fucking hate that we’re even talking about her right now.”

“What do they say?”

He rolled his eyes, hurriedly slanting his voice, “Viv’s gorgeous mate, she clearly wants you. What the fuck are you doing now?”

I flinched. He noticed. “Look, I seriously hate talking about this. Can we talk about the fact that I didn’t invite anyone tonight?”

“Aw, was Viv busy?”

“Alright, stop.”

A chill shot down my spine at the rejection. As much as I wanted to appreciate the fact he didn’t invite anyone, it didn’t help. This wasn’t helping at all. “I’m sorry if I want to talk about your relationships that directly affect me,” I said, rolling out of his arms.

“Y/N, please. It’s not like that.” His voice was tired, pleading, coaxing me to forget.

“But why are you like this? Why did you just say what you did to me?”

“You asked me-”

“It was very belittling.” I changed my voice to a dopey British accent, “Viv’s gorgeous what the fuck are you doing with Y/N?” I ignored his scowl. “Really, thanks for the best compliment of the night.” I pushed against his chest, annoyed. “And why are you being like this now? All cuddly and-”

“It’s not one-sided.”

I felt my cheeks heat. “Not tonight. But it’s one-sided any other time.”

“S’that what you really think of me?” He pulled me closer, and I fought the urge to twist away. His forehead pressed into my hair. “Firstly, you’re fucking beautiful Y/N. You have to know this. And you have to know you’re important to me. And secondly…”

“Thirdly,” I corrected.

His eyes turned somber. “They’re watching,” he mumbled, pleading. “This is hard for me, too.”

The gang, the cops, both, whichever it was, it didn’t matter. The effect was the same. No matter how special he claimed I was to him, we always went in circles. Maybe he had gotten it right. Maybe it was better for both of us if we weren’t together. “Why is it so hard then?” I whispered.

“Nothing good comes easy.”

I remained silent. It was a cop-out response.

He ran a hand down his face and sat up. “Because I’m fucked! I’m fucked, Y/N and there’s only so many people I can hide from. And you aren’t one of them.”

It was the most candid he’d ever been with me, without revealing anything at all.

A knock sounded at the door.

I went to move, but he kept me against him, covering my ears as he shouted-

“FUCK OFF!!”

But even with his hands over my ears, it wasn’t very muted. The knock grew louder, more obnoxious.

“Sorry,” he grumbled, moving to open the door. When it opened, a boy wearing a snapback around the same height as Harry leant against the doorframe.

“Wassup, man-” Snapback almost burst in.

Harry’s back went stiff as the stranger’s snapback practically poked Harry in the eye. If their overcompensating confidence and too-familiar smile told me anything – freshmen. At least Snapback’s friend wore a Bond-inspired bow-tie t-shirt.

Harry put a hand to Snapback’s chest, backing him back out of the room. They watched me walk up behind him.

“Hey, relax man, we just wanted to get some zombies,” Bowtie bargained.

“You’ve got some fucking balls,” he snarled.

My ears pricked. He was looking for the same thing, then. From Harry. My heart sunk to the lowest part of my belly after remembering why I’d come here in the first place. The sliver of hope I’d had was that maybe what Zayn had witnessed was just Harry’s past. A summer blunder. A summer fling with an illegal hobby. You know, some kids did drugs, some kids sold drugs... It was a ridiculously stupid comparison now that I thought about it. But still, I had hope. Now my undeniable denial was being shred up right in front of me.

The cops, the gang, the drugs circulating campus…

Harry had made his bed, and I was lying in it.

I squeezed past him.

“Wait, are you leaving?” He still blocked his doorway.

I ignored the pang of guilt I felt at his boyish disappointment. He looked at me, body still intimidatingly rigid, but his eyes, impossibly soft. Snapback tried to move past him again and Harry whipped his head back with a growl. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Excuse me?” Bowtie came closer, puffing out his muscled chest. Testosterone, angst and alcohol were never the best combination. I grew nervous at the tension, looking from my escape at the end of the hall, back to Harry.

“C’mon, we have the cash. We’ll pay double!” Snapback whined, cornering him.

The words made me nauseous, conjuring the image of Viv sliding Harry the cash. I didn’t want to see this again. I didn’t want to see anything again.

“I don’t do that shit anymore.” He strode through their barricade, determined, but Bowtie tugged him back. His nostrils flared and I could tell he was trying to keep his cool. He could ruin these guys if he wanted to. I don’t know why he was letting them keep him. But I also didn’t know why I didn’t run away. It was like watching a train wreck seconds before it happened.

I stood alone, in the center of the hall, the only person on Harry’s horizon. A lighthouse hoping to steer the sailor home.

“C’mon, please man, everyone’s talking about them. We just need one,” Snapback exhorted. He put up his hands, pleading. “We’ll split one. We’ll seriously cut it in half.”

Even from here, I could see the muscles in his neck tense. I tried doing to him what he did to everyone else. I trapped him, wide-eyed, anchoring him to me. He didn’t break our stare.

As if each word scraped against his skull, “I said I don’t do that shit.”

“That’s a fucking joke. Mark got some last week,” Bowtie barked.

I saw the moment I lost him. In what world I thought I could be enough to harbor him, I had no idea. Harry snapped, kicking the steroid-pumped kid so hard in the knee, it knocked him down. It wasn’t a broken bone, but it’d leave one hell of a bruise.

“Dude, are you crazy?!” Snapback cried.

Harry raised his fist, bringing it flying. I gasped and hid my face. But I didn’t hear an impact. I faced them again.

Harry’s fist froze inches before his cheek. Facing what would have been a badly broken nose, Bowtie shook on the floor. Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry relaxed his hovering fist and folded his arms, squatting next to the quivering guy. “You’re fucking welcome I was in a good mood ‘fore you came, otherwise I wouldn’t be acting so polite.”

The squeak of a floorboard shook Harry back to Earth. He caught me walking away and his whole body straightened, once again hyper-focused on me, trying to tune in and trap me exactly where I stood. Taking advantage of his distraction, Snapback and Bowtie ran for it. Bowtie limped, running into me and knocking me off-balance as he passed.

In a second, it was just us.

“Y/N,” he began, walking towards me cautiously.

“No.”

He stopped in his tracks. He was tall, but his shoulders hung in despondent defeat.

“You were right, Harry.”

I could see how tired he was. I could see the broken pieces fitting into something beautiful. He looked so sad and regretful, I already felt guilty for saying,

“You can’t hide anymore.” And with one last look at the broken boy before me, “You are fucked.”

Suddenly, the beer on the floor was just stale and sticky. The couches were filthy from strangers’ mistakes. And the air would never be clear. Harry had been right. This entire house was filled with people who didn’t care and if they did, they were trying to forget; a place more empty than if it were vacant. It was a mess just like the boy living in it. And just like the grand house, impressive at first glance, not all of his parts were beautiful.

I ignored the way his broken pieces seemed to shatter as soon as I said it and the way it hurt me ten-fold. I ignored him calling out my name as I maneuvered through the blur of bodies, until I lost his voice on the dance floor. I could breathe better outside and I walked past the cops without acknowledging them.

From complete chaos to relative quiet, my ears rung, filling the new silence.

Maybe this was the last time we’d speak. Maybe this was how it all should’ve ended that first day in September. Because in that house, that wasn’t the Harry I thought I’d knew. That was a boy far-gone, confused, and I was falling down with him. I was ANGRY. I PITIED him. And I was angry for feeling something else I should never have felt for him.

Somehow, in this fuzzy ringing world buzzing with heated thoughts and cop lights that blurred my vision, I heard a notepad scribble as soon as I passed a squad car.

Lucky for me, Momma always said I had selective hearing.

part 21

431 notes · View notes

oh-obrien · 5 years ago

Text

Take Me Out

Relationships: Dylan O'Brien x OFC

Word Count: 4,496

Author’s note: Sorry I disappeared y’all and sorry this one’s a little short. I had finals and then I found out my grandpa has cancer so we’re a little bit all over the place, but I’m getting back in the grove. Here’s some baseball and jealous Dylan for you all. All my characters are oc’s as I didn’t want to pull any real life players to use.

“Imagine liking the Mets,” Cameron mumbled around the white hair tie she held between her teeth. She watched through the mirror while Dylan pulled his jersey on, finishing dutch braiding the left side of her hair at the same time. “Orange and Blue just, it doesn’t go together well at all,” she continued while tying her braid off with the hair tie.

Dylan rolled his eyes and walked back into the bathroom after he pulled Cameron’s jersey out of the closet, holding it up at an arm's length and wrinkling his nose. “Because pinstripes are any better?” He asked while leaning against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, watching his girlfriend continue to braid her hair. “Tabloids later are going to be like, Dylan O'Brien's girlfriend seen wearing a Yankees jersey at the first game of the Subway Series: Is this the beginning of the end?” He couldn’t hold in his laugh at the end.

Cameron also tried to stop herself from laughing while she sectioned off the hair on the right side of her head, not wanting the braid to be uneven. “Oh god,” she mumbled, “I’m going to have to tweet that everyone needs to remember my dad is one of the coaches for the Yankees,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky he let you stay the first time I brought you home and you had a Mets hat on.” Dylan watched her fingers braiding her hair while she spoke. “At least you don’t care about hockey. It would have been bad if you blurted out you were an Islanders fan too.”

“I remember that!” He started laughing lightly again, his shoulders shaking slightly while he did, “he just grilled me after that.” Dylan remembered the first time he met Cameron’s parents, the week of the Subway Series two years earlier. The pair had been together for only a couple months at the time and Cameron had surprised him with tickets for all three games that year, her dad had also offered that the couple could stay at the family’s house in Sagaponack for the time they were visiting. Dylan and Cameron had pulled up in front of Cameron’s childhood home in a car her dad had hired to drive them out to Sagaponack from MacArthur airport, and Cameron swore she saw Dylan’s jaw hit the floor of the car when they pulled through the front gates.

“He had that custom made, I think it’s a bit much,” Cameron referred to the large wooden Yankees logo that had been put on the front door to their home. “And if you get past that and how huge the house is, actually who am I kidding,” she rolled her eyes while they got out of the car. “I cannot stand this house,” they thanked the driver after he got their suitcases out of the back. “And I can't stand that I spent eighteen years of my life here.”

Dylan snorted at the memory and Cameron cocked her head to the side at his outburst. “You say how much you hated living here when you were younger every time we come out to visit, and I’m just stringing it all together,” he shrugged.

“I also hated going to private school, but clearly something paid off somewhere,” Cameron tied off her second braid, the two falling even in front of her chest. “Because I got into my dream college and then I was somehow lucky enough to bump into you and then got you to sick around long enough to actually tell you my dad coached the Yankees,” she hooked her fingers into the loops of Dylan’s shorts and pulled him closer.

Dylan pulled his face away from Cameron’s, a tight lipped smirk spreading across his face. “Did it really now?” He asked, watching pout spread across her full lips. “Because if I remember it correctly I actually asked you out that first night,” he brought his hands up to rest on Cameron’s waist, right above the curve of her ass.

“But then for some reason you decided to keep talking to me,” Cameron leaned up slightly to peck Dylan’s lips, “a bunch of sorority girls on a bar crawl after finals and you decided it would be a good idea to talk to me out of that group?” She cocked her head to the side slightly, clearly pressing the issue further in a playful way.

Dylan rolled his eyes and pulled Cameron even closer to him. “Okay so,” he slipped his hands along the line of skin on Cameron’s back that was left uncovered by her white cropped t-shirt, “you were cute, I made a move.” Cameron looked up and gave Dylan a ‘really’ look, knowing a lot of her sorority sisters she had been with were more than cute. “You were cute, and the only one without some basic fruity drink in your hand,” he added the last part.

“Yeah I did look pretty cute that night,” Cameron just shrugged and watched Dylan shake his head at her usual antics. “And then there was you, you looked half dead my dude,” she reminded. Cameron patted Dylan’s chest lightly and pulled away, grabbing her jersey off the counter and pulling it on.

Dylan watched Cameron quickly tie a knot out of the two ends at the front of the jersey instead of buttoning it, letting it hang open most of the way. “I was in the middle of filming an entire movie in sixty days,” he pointed out while Cameron adjusted the knot of the jersey so it would be even with her cropped shirt. “And in my defense I had also filmed twelve hours that day but somehow got convinced to go out!”

Cameron tucked her phone into the pock on her ripped jean shorts, “well I’m glad they convinced you,” she brushed past Dylan and back into her childhood bedroom. She sat down on her bed and pulled her navy converse off the floor, slipping them on before tying them tightly. “You have everything you need?” Cameron turned to face Dylan after she grabbed her RayBans case off her dresser.

Dylan patted around at his pockets, making sure he had his wallet and phone. “I think I have everything,” he shrugged, “if not it’s not that important.”

“You are so go with the flow it hurts sometimes,” Cameron shook her head and held her hand out for Dylan to take. “C’mon, the car is waiting downstairs and I don’t want to be stuck in rush hour traffic, nothing is worse than the LIE during rush hour!”

“How about the George Washington during rush hour?” Dylan smirked while he spoke, knowing he would get a reaction out of Cameron. She had mentioned numerous times throughout the visits they took to New York how much she hated having to take the GW Bridge to leave the state.

Sliding her fingers through Dylan’s cameron just huffed, squeezing his hand a little harder than she normally would. “Never speak of that godforsaken bridge ever again,” she mumbled as the pair started down the staircase.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Dylan watched the beaches of where Cameron grew up slowly fade away as the pair got closer and closer to Queens, suburban neighborhoods turning into taller and more condensed buildings. Of course growing up he had lived quite close to the ‘Big Apple’ himself, but he knew he didn’t visit nearly as often as Cameron did.

“I practically grew up in Yankee Stadium,” Dylan remembered Cameron telling him on their first date. At the time he had thought that must have been one of the coolest childhoods ever, having a parent who coached an MLB team, but he quickly realized it probably wasn’t as glamorous as it seemed.

Dylan learned that in the winter months Cameron’s dad would travel with the team for their winter training and there would be an extended period of time where Cameron wouldn't get to see him. Dylan also remembered her noting that it taught her what she didn’t want to be as a parent, and that had been something that had scared him, although he didn’t yet express it. He would often travel for filming or press tours and through Cameron, he realized just how much a parent constantly being away could impact a kid.

However, kids weren’t yet on the couple’s mind. The pair had met in Louisiana while Dylan had been filming the first movie in The Maze Runner series, and Cameron had been in the process of wrapping up her junior year of college at Louisiana State University playing for their softball team. She had also started to cram for her LSAT’s right before they met. In a fast paced two months which consisted of seeing each other when there had been any time in either of their schedules and texting on the days there wasn’t, the couple had quickly started falling for each other.

Once Dylan had flown back to Los Angeles after The Maze Runner had wrapped, Cameron found herself reconsidering her law school options and studied even harder for her LSAT’s. After receiving a 178 out of 180 on the test, Cameron had applied to as many law schools as she could, but had her eyes on getting into University of California at Berkeley’s School of Law.

Prior to flying out to New York for the year’s Subway Series between three Mets and Yankees, the couple’s two year anniversary had just passed. Dylan’s career had started to take off even more while Cameron found herself attending law school at UC Berkeley. After quite a few long conversations and consulting with friends and family, the pair had recently decided to settle in a spacious home right outside of Los Angeles together. With Cameron in her second year of Law School and already receiving job offers for after graduation and Dylan’s career only growing, they both knew that they wouldn’t be leaving the area for quite awhile.

“You’re thinking pretty hard over there O’Brien,” Cameron laughed lightly while she drummed her fingers lightly on his thigh. Dylan took a moment to regain his thoughts before he looked out the window, realizing that their car had pulled off on to the exit that would take them to Citi Field. “Pretty sure I saw some steam coming out of your ears,” she pulled his Mets cap off his head and ran her fingers through his hair.

Dylan leaned into Cameron’s touch but let out a small huff in protest of her previous statement, “believe me,” he closed his eyes, “if anyone is going to be thinking that hard it’s going to be you.” Cameron just smiled and smoothed her boyfriend’s hair down again, settling his hat back on his head while their car pulled around the back of Citi Field.

Watching as Dylan’s eyes took in the sights around them Cameron just shook her head while the driver pulled up near the coaches and players entrance. Sometimes it amazed her just how starstruck certain things could get her boyfriend and she wasn’t sure if she would ever fully understand it. He had nearly everything he ever wanted in his reach, but coming to Citi Field would always make his face light up like a kid in a candy store. “Let’s go, Superstar,” Cameron pushed open the door to the Suburban and held her hand out for Dylan to take. “It’s just Queens, basically still the Island.”

Threading their fingers together, the couple thanked their driver before approaching the entrance where two security guards stood, chatting with each other while leaning against the wall of the stadium. Cameron reached into one of the back pockets of her shorts with her free hand and pulled out the passes that would give them access to nearly anywhere they wanted inside Citi Field.

Cameron held the passes up and the security guards waved them past with kind smiles. She scanned hers on the pad next to the door and heard the heavy metal lock click open before she grabbed the handle. “I want to go see my dad and brother before the game,” Cameron looked over to Dylan who let out an over dramatic goran. “Oh please,” she rolled her eyes, “all the guys know I’m dating a,” she fake gagged, “a Mets fan.” Untangling their hands Dylan reached over to pinch Cmaeron on the ass which made her squeak and quickly take off down the hallway they were in.

“Oh fuck off!” Dylan laughed making sure he saw what direction Cameron had taken off in, following a safe distance behind. He just shook his head while following the directions that would lead them both to the visitor’s locker room. He also assumed that after years of attending Subway Series games Cameron probably didn’t need the directions around Citi field for herself anymore.

Cameron found herself jogging through the hallways of Citi Field, leaving enough distance between her and Dylan that he couldn’t catch her easily but could still follow her so he wouldn’t get lost. She looked behind her to make sure she could still see Dylan before she turned the last corner that would lead to the visitor locker room before crashing into a hard body. “Shit!” She felt a pair of hands catch her waist so she didn’t trip.

“Yeah what the fuck, Cam?” Carson, Cameron’s older brother, asked while he steadied his sister on her feet. Carson has his jersey half buttoned and his cap sat backwards on his head, a smile spreading across his face “And where’s Dylan? You can’t let him get lost in here,” Carson let out a long sigh, hoping his sister’s boyfriend didn’t actually get lost in the depth of Citi Field.

Cameron rolled her eyes and turned around to watch Dylan round the corner, shaking his head when he finally caught up to his girlfriend. “What’s up, man?” Dylan and Carson pulled each other into a ‘bro-hug’ before separating.

“Ahh, nothing much!” Carson laughed while he finished buttoning up his jersey, “just got a series game to play nothing too big,” he shrugged. Cameron let out an overly dramatic huff to get both of the boy’s attention back on her. “Dad’s out on the field, most of the guys are too.” Carson pointed towards the staircase that led up into the visitor’s dugout.

Cameron nodded in thanks before taking Dylan’s hand in hers, opting to pull him towards the field, itching to be outside on the diamond again. “Can you handle being in the Yankees dugout or is your ego too fragile?” She looked over to Dylan while she scanned the door open with the passes her dad had gotten for the couple.

“Okay, I’m not that bad,” Dylan rolled his eyes while Cameron pushed the metal door open, the humid, hot and heavy summer New York air hitting them in the face when she did. “I’m just dedicated to my team.” Dedicated Dylan was indeed, it would always be a competition between the two when they would watch games back home. Whose team did better that week, whose team had the better stats, whose team had better chances of making it to the World Series. The competition would always be in good fun of course, nothing ever really rode on whose team did better, except bragging rights.

Cameron leaned over and kissed his cheek, “and I think that’s adorable,” she reminded him. Once the pair stepped out on to the field they noticed most of the players were warming up in some shape or form. The infielders were running drills and those not participating were found in the back of the stadium, sitting on the fence of the bullpen, talking with the relief pitchers who were getting their arms loose before the game.

“Someone is all grown up,” Cameron heard a familiar voice speak from next to her and turned to see Mark, one of the newer players, walking out of the bullpen. Mark had also gone to college with Cameron, although he had been a year ahead of her, he played on the LSU baseball team and had been a starter his freshman year.

Cameron rolled her eyes and accepted his offer of a hug. “You only graduated a year before me!” She laughed while he lifted her off the ground. She looked behind her once Mark put her down to see Dylan kicking the dirt with his beat up Adidas sneakers, an angry frown evident on his face.

Biting her bottom lip, Cameron walked over to Dylan and grabbed one of his hands that hung at his side and squeezed it, but he didn’t squeeze back like he usually would. Great, now she had to deal with a moody boyfriend for the rest of the day too. “Mark this is Dylan, Dylan this is Mark,” she leaned into Dylan’s side more. “You actually probably saw each other the night me and Dyl met at that bar we went to after finals your senior year.

“Nice to meet you for real man!” Mark laughed while he offered Dylan his hand to shake. “You got a real catch, I asked her out when?” Mark looked over to Cameron for confirmation on the years after he dropped Dylan’s hand.

Fuck, now she would really deal with a moody boyfriend for the rest of the day. “My sophomore year your junior,” she filled in. She knew that Dylan would be even less happy now that Cameron had just been getting all cozy with a guy she had rejected before she had started dating him.

“Yeah she said no though, said it would be like dating her brother. Which was more of an insult than anything,” he nodded to where Carson was dumping a water bottle over one of the other player’s heads in the outfield while they warmed up, “he is something special.” Mark noticed that Cameron’s dad stood neat home plate, trying to round everyone up for batting practice and Mark offered Cameron a final smile. “Gotta go, see you later?”

Cameron nodded with a small smile, “yeah!” Mark leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before running off, his bat and batting gloves in his hands. Cameron had always thought that Mark would grow up to be incredibly handsome while they were in college together, she had just never been attracted to him.

“He asked you out?” Dylan asked once Mark would definitely be out of earshot of the couple. “And you didn’t tell me?” He sounded more hurt than anything. That would be how most of their arguments, if they could even be called that, went. Someone would feel hurt by something the other did and they’d voice their opinion about it and from there on it would be a downward spiral. It usually resulted in someone sleeping in the guest bedroom for a night and waking up to an elaborate breakfast the next morning.

Cameron ran her hands over her face, not in the mood to argue with Dylan around her dad’s players and staff. “It was sophomore year of college Dylan and I said no!” She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long sigh. “Look, I don’t want to get into this here. I’m going to say hi to my dad. If you want to pout over here feel free but I’m looking to enjoy the rest of today.” She spoke calmly before leaning up to peck his lips lightly before walking over to her dad.

“Look who it is!” He paused what he had been saying to his players to pull Cameron into a tight hug. Cameron smiled and squeezed her dad before pulling away, waving to the rest of the plays, most of who she knew. “How was the flight out this morning?” He asked after dismissing the players to get a few extra swings in before the game. “And why’s the boy toy pouting?” He nodded towards Dylan.

Cameron just shrugged, “LAX is LAX, even if we did leave at three in the morning.” The couple had figured it would be the best time to fly into New York from Los Angeles, catch some sleep on the plane and nap once they got to her parents house. It had become their system when visiting there. “He’s not a fan of Mark, that’s why he looks so upset,” Cameron watched as Carson approached her boyfriend.

Dylan offered Carson a halfhearted smile and then tucked his phone into his front pocket, crossing his arms over his chest before falling into conversation with the ball player. “Mark’s still trying?” James, Cameron’s dad, asked. “I think it’s pretty clear you and Dylan are in it for the long haul now,” he added.

“He’s not usually the jealous type,” Cameron spoke while she walked into the dugout with her dad. “I just,” she sighed, leaning against the bench. “I think it’s the fact that I’ve known Mark so long that’s getting under his skin, like the fact that me and Mark have more history will suddenly make me dump him for Mark ot something.” Cameron watched her dad hang the line up on the wall of the dugout, Mark not on the starting roster for the day.

James turned back to his daughter, a sympathetic smile on his face, “well if it makes Dylan feel any better, I’ll bench lover boy for the day,” he laughed lightly. “Just don’t tell him that I had already planned to take Mark off the roster for the day, he’s been making a ton of errors lately and we can’t have that right now.” Cameron looked at the lineup to see that her brother had been placed in the clean up position, as per usual.

“Thanks dad,” Cameron sighed and wrapped her arms around her dad again, pulling him into another tight hug.

James just laughed and pulled away from his daughter, “don’t thank me, now go save Dylan from your brother before he talks his ear off about how we’re going to win today,” he nodded towards the two boys. Cameron just rolled her eyes and started up the stairs that lead out of the dugout. “And Cam,” she turned around again, “you mother and I are staying out here tonight.”

“Dad!” Cameron groaned, her face turning red, before she took the last two stairs, both in the same step to get out of the dugout faster. Walking over towards Carson and Dylan, Cameron knew the pair had seen her, but Dylan didn’t hold his hand out for her to take like he usually would. A pang of heart coursed through her chest, but she knew she had upset Dylan, and she should have realized what her actions would have done sooner.

Settling next to her boyfriend, Cameron saw her brother eye them both suspiciously before he fell back into his conversation with Dylan. Once there was a lull in the conversation and it appeared it would be dying off Cameron reached out and grabbed Dylan’s hand, but it stayed limp in hers. “If you don’t mind,” she butted in, “I’m going to steal him for a few minutes before the game starts because we need to talk about something.”

“There’s nothing to-” Dylan started, but Cameron cut him off with a sharp look that said they weren’t pushing this off until later. Dylan let out a long sigh, “I’ll catch up with you later dude,” he told Carson.

Carson looked between his sister and her boyfriend before nodding shallowly, “yeah, catch up later,” he raised an eyebrow at Cameron, asking if she was okay. After she mouth an ‘all good’ back, he jogged towards the dugout and down the concrete stairs, emerging a few seconds later with his glove in hand.

“Cameron I really don’t-”

“Nope,” Cameron tugged Dylan off a little further to the side of the field, where she knew no one could overheard anything. “If we leave this until later we both know that won’t end well,” she told him leaving absolutely no room to argue. “Now, you want to go first?” she dropped his hand and crossed her arms over her chest.

Dylan tucked both of his hands into his shorts pockets and shrugged, kicking the dirt under his feet again. “I really don’t have anything to say,” he mumbled, clearly ignoring what Cameron had just said.

“Well, I’ll tell you that I was never interested in him,” Cameron watched Dylan carefully even if he wouldn’t look up to meet her eyes. “He’s a self centered douche who always bragged about how amazing he was and everything was about him, he wasn’t humble and he never cared about anyone else, he just cared about how he looked to everyone else,” she took in a deep breath and when Didn’t reply she let out a long groan. “He’s not humble and he’s not willing to better himself, he doesn’t care about how anyone else feels and he never will. He’s not funny and his smile and laugh always seems fake and quite frankly my dad took him off the lineup for today because he’s such a self centered dick. And you should have more trust in me, I’m dating you and only you, my eyes are on you only, not anyone else, especially not him!”

Cameron watched Dylan look up to meet her eyes, his slightly shiny, but no longer hurt. He had his bottom lip between his teeth and pulled his hat off to card his fingers through his hair. “Sorry I doubted you, he’s just, everything you grew up with and probably wanted growing up,” Dylan mumbled. “And I just got jealous and afraid you’d leave me for someone like him, like everyone expected you to end up with,” he held his hands out for Cameron to take.

Letting out a tiny sigh, Cameron threaded their fingers together and pulled Dylan closer to her. “Never doubt yourself, bubs,” Cameron kissed him lightly. “I have eyes for you and only you.”

“Love you,” Dylan kissed her again.

“I love you too, dork,” she smiled and pulled away slightly. “Now let’s go say good luck to my dad and thank you for the seats behind home plate,” she started pulling him towards the direction of the dugout.

Dylan laughed behind her and rolled his eyes, “like I’d ever tell the Yankees good luck,” he said it just loud enough that Cameron could hear. Pausing in just far enough away from the dugout that they would still be out of earshot, Cameron pulled Dylan closer again.

“Say good luck,” she leaned up to whisper in his ear, “and we have the house to ourselves tonight,” she pulled gently on her earlobe with her teeth to drive her point home.

Dylan closed his eyes and let out a quiet groan, “I hope they win then!” He pulled her towards the dugout again. “In extra innings though, of course.”

#dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien imagine #anna writes #teen wolf #the maze runner

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mymarifae · 5 years ago

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do u have any family hcs for mango yet 👀

yes. i adore mango i’ve been thinking about him for the past 2 days

i see him as 15, almost 16! he’s trans and gay and the world’s biggest sweetie :) he’s like, been in the water practically since he was born. his parents taught him canoeing and sailing from an early age, and he’s always loved it! he loves the ocean! he’s also a strong swimmer and surfs well, and as long as he’s in or near the water, he’s happy. but his favorite place to be is in a boat. he has more of a slight, slim build, and he’s on the shorter side. but the kid’s strong as hell

i think he’s very close to artichoke! artichoke is about 10 or 11 Now, but mango’s known them since they were little - like, 5. mango sees artichoke as his little sibling! he’s an only child himself and has always wanted siblings, so he’s been attached to artichoke from day one practically. he’s very patient and gentle with them. he doesn’t mind if they’re constantly at his heels, following him around and wanting to participate in everything he does. (in my experience, a lot of older kids tend to get irritated when younger kids try to follow them around like that.) he spoils artichoke JUST a little bit. always letting them have their way.

mango isn’t the type to brawl. he’s too gentle and kind. but you know if any older kids get to picking on artichoke mango’s going to be right there immediately, and for artichoke, he WILL throw a punch or two if he has to.

i don’t have any canon cookies in mind to be his parents - i’ll probably be making ocs of my own to fill in that gap. BUT: general jujube is his grandpa, and peach and plum are his aunt and uncle! (i hc that jujube is peach and plum’s dad)

mango doesn’t see his grandpa very much, but apparently he picks his uncle plum up every day to take him to a shitty rock island he does see his aunt and uncle on a pretty regular basis! he goes to visit them sometimes, but they both live farther inland, and being too far away from the ocean makes him anxious. so more often than not, peach and plum are the ones coming to visit him

mango has expressed distaste for fighting, but peach and plum have both insisted he at least learn the basics of their martial arts, for self-defense. he has also learned a great deal about meditation and philosophy from both of them, and that’s why he’s so deeply in-tune with the world and its beauty at such a young age!

he’s very appreciative and thoughtful, and he takes his time with every action. sometimes he even speaks slowly, because he’s carefully choosing what he should say. he’s a good listener, and absorbs new information like a sponge. he may not have been the most enthusiastic about learning martial arts from peach and plum, but he learned it well. on top of it all, he has a near photographic memory and recalls things everyone else has long forgotten. he has layout of the whole archipelago memorized, as well as all the timings of the tides and how far up they come on each island.

when mango does see his grandpa, jujube will sit and quiz him on inane topics to see what he has and hasn’t learned. then he’ll clap mango on the back, almost knocking him over in the process, and say how proud he is of his grandson and that, why, he hasn’t seen a kid as bright and attentive as mango in decades. and then jujube will pinch mango’s arm and start complaining that he’s too thin, that he’s just like peach, thin and wiry as a twig. and he’ll go and make too much food and insist that mango eat it all. and this is how every grandpa visit goes. every time. without fail.

#i got excited. i love mango #cookie chatter #mailbox

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pietromaxi · 6 years ago

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you’re a bad guy

request: @fashionlive15 Hi Sahar!! How are you? I saw that you were taking much request, solo can I please have o me with the reader being Tony's daughter and dating cap during civil war and she is on caps side until she learns that Bucky killed her grandparents and then Steve almost kills Tony and she is so sad and feels betrayed (it could be more that one part if want) Hope you have a great day!

hi angel! i really really love this concept, i highkey went overkill with this one but i like the way it turned out. hope you like it!

warnings: violence, ANGST!, like one (1) kiss?, blood?? cursing

——

for the first time in your life, you and your dad seriously butted heads. you would argue over small things, like: tony putting empty orange juice containers back in the fridge, or tony putting a red sock in with your crisp white clothes, or tony- okay so it was usually always tony’s fault.

but this time, who’s fault was it? neither of you could help that you believed in something so strongly you sided against eachother.

“i’m not signing that shit!” your chest heaved up and down as you and your father had an intense stare down.

“Y/N Y/M/N stark, sign the goddamn papers or so help me you will be grounded until you’re in an old lady home!” tony was basically foaming at the mouth. it was a serious hit to his ego knowing his baby wasn’t with him. his baby was with cap.

but here you are now, leaning on the side wall of the quinjet, listening to your beloved boyfriend and best friend talk about their past.

“you remember that time we had to ride back from rockaway beach in the back of that freezer truck?” bucky snorted and looked over at his best friend.

“was that the time we used our train money to buy hotdogs?” now it was your turn to laugh, both boys looked at you and smiled, steve pressing a kiss to your head.

“you blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead.”

“oh god, bucky. three bucks? wasn’t that like three-hundred-dollars back then?” bucky looked over at you with a dopey smile, “something like that. what was her name again?”

“dolores. you called her dot.”

“she’s gotta be a hundred years old right now.”

“so are you boys.” you clapped a hand on each of their shoulders, moving to stand in between them. “real funny, y/n. real funny.”

the doors on the quinjet opened and you walked with bucky and steve up to a door, slightly ajar, hidden in some rock.

“he can’t have been here more than a few hours.” steve turned around to look at the two of you.

“long enough to wake them up.” you and bucky uttered the words at the same time. the three of you lauging lightly at the realization.

steve led the three of you into the cast bunker. you traveled down into the depths inside a caged elevator. you’ve always hated elevators, sighing, you moved closer to steve. he welcomed you with open arms and leander down to press a firm, but soft, kiss on your lips. “i love you.” he whisphered. steve had a bad feeling about this.

the elevator stops in the bowls of the bunker, the doors slide open with a high-pitched screech. steve reluctantly lets go of you, then nods to both you and bucky and heaves the cage door open. bucky readys his machine gun while you focus on the fire beginning to seep from your fingertips. the three of you walk down into the depths of a corridor, alongside a wall. bucky turns his head to look into an alcove along the corridor wall, it appears to be nothing but old technology so the three of you keep moving.

going up a small flight of metal stairs, steve shoves his way in front of you, earning a grunt in protest. “what? i don’t like you leading the way, you could get seriously hurt, doll.” sighing, steve clutches your hand just a little bit tighter. bucky stays behind you with his gun drawn.

at the sound of a large groan behind you, the three of you spun around, “you ready?”

“yeah.” immediately after bucky mumbled the one-word reply, iron doors were forced apart by none other than your imbecile of a father, his mask was currently off, he was holding it inbetween his hands. both you and steve lowered your weapons and stared in shock. bucky stayed stiff.

“you seem a little defensive.” of course your father would say that. you cautiously approached your father, steve followed closely behind, shield now being held up in front of his chest. “it’s been a long day.” you embraced your father tightly, smiling when he hugged back.

“at ease solider. i’m not currently after you.” tony held his hands up in defense as you went to stand beside steve, his pinky immediatley wrapped around your much smaller one, a simple gesture, but you two seemed to do it on every mission when holding hands seemed like a bit too much.

“then why are you here, daddy?” steve gripped your hand tighter, as you stared forward at your father.

“could be your story’s not so crazy. maybe. ross has no idea i’m here. i’d like to keep it that way. otherwise, i gotta arrest myself.” tony raised his eyebrows and shrugged, looking down at you, “i’m sorry this split us up, kiddo. you know i loved you through all of this.”

your dad’s words brought a wide smile to your blood and dirt caked face, “i love you too dad.”

steve glanced at you, and then to your dad, “well that sounds like a lot of paperwork. it’s good to see you tony.” steve lowered his shield, bucky flinched in reaction, but refused to lower his gun, eyes watching your fathers every move.

“you too, cap. hey, manchurian candidate, you’re killing me. there’s a truce here. you can drop the huge thing you’ve got pointed in my face.” tony stared straight at bucky as steve signaled you can lower it.

cautiosuly, the four of you stalked down the corrdior, your pinky still held tightly in steve’s. very quickly, you approached a vast chamber, filled with standing capsules. tony stopped abruptly, “i got heat signatures.”

steve’s eyes shot up immediatley, “how many?”

“uh, one.” your father’s confused eyes trailed over the three people standing before him, before looking back in front of him.

as the four of you enter the chamber, dust bunnies dropped from the ceiling when the dim, yellowish lights flickered to life. a hazy, yellow mist begining to fill the capsules on the far wall. the four of you looked around, bewildered.

“if it’s any comfort, they died in their sleep. did you really think i wanted more of you?” a squeaky, russian voice filled the vast room, “what the hell?” bucky lowered his weapon when you lightly placed your hand on his forearm.

“i’m grateful to them, though. they brought you here...” suddenly a rat-like man wearing glasses appeared in the control room window. without thinking, steve hurled his sheild straight at the man, it hit the wall with a loud sound and flew straight back into steves hand. “...please, captian. the soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets.”

your dad scoffed, stepping up infront of the three of you. cracking his kneck, he spoke, “i’m betting i can beat that.”

the small man spoke again, “oh, i’m sure you could, mr. stark. given time. but then you’d never know why you came.” tony scoffed again, even though you couldn’t see, you just knew your dad was rolling his eyes. classic move, dad.

“you killed innocent people in vienna just to bring us here?” steves grip on his shield and your, now bruised, pinky finger.

and again, the little man spoke, “i thought about nothing else for over a year. i studied you. i followed you. even your silly little girlfriend, there. but now that you’re standing here, i just realized... there’s a bit of green in the blue of your eyes. how nice to find a flaw.”

“there’s actually some amber surrounding his pupil if you look close enough, guess you didn’t study well enough.” the first time you spoke, of course it would be sarcastic. after all, you are tony stark’s daughter. your dad held his suit-covered hand behind his back, silently saying ‘oh i know you didn’t just say that, give me a high-five, that was a good one.’

everyone else in the room seemed to ignore your little comment, steve continued his arguement, “you’re sokovian. is that what this is about?”

you turned to face bucky, “i thought he was russian?” bucky cracked a tiny smile and turned back to the newly-named sokovian man.

“sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. no. i’m here because i made a promise.”

steve’s lips tightened into a straight line, studying the man in front of him, “you lost someone?”

little sokovian man looked grave. after a few silent moments he clicked his tongue, “i lost everyone. and so will you.” after he began speaking an ancient tv roared to life, static, then nothing, then a date. december 16th 1991. you all stepped towards it. “an empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. but one which crumbles from within? that’s dead... forever.” the small sokovian disappeared right as the video began.

the video plays, a car is forced off the road by the winter solider. bucky gulped loudly behind you, you could feel his heartrate jump. the winter solider rises and gets off his motorcycle. a man lies on the ground beside the car. a soft gasp leaves your lips. its grandpa howard.

he whimpered, blood seeping from a cut on his head, “help my wife. please. help.” you closed your eyes tightly, you could hear the grandfather you’d never met crying out for help, anything.

“sergeant barnes?”

“howard!”

you heard grunting, the crunching of bones, squelching blood, crying out. tony slumped to the ground, head in his hands. your eyes slowly opened, “did you know?”

steve looked deep into your eyes, “i didn’t know it was him.”

“don’t bullshit me, rogers. did you know?” steve swallowed harshly, he was in deep shit.

he looked up to meet your eyes, a fire blazed, brightly. your powers trying to come to the surface, he come see you fighting it, “yes.”

a hard punch went straight to steve’s nose, a shove to his chest, a kick to his shin. and he took it all, he knew he deserved it. bucky watched in horror, this was his fault. you turned straight to him, ignoring your boyfriend apologizing profusly, “you! you- you killed them! my family, bucky! how could you?” bucky looked at you pleadingly, his eyes said it all. “you. bucky barnes. you disgust me.”

you lunged at him only to be grabbed by the waist, metal fingers doug into your waist, “dad! put me down now! stop! let go!” shouting everything you could, you tried your absolute hardest to get him to drop you. all to no avail. he opened a door and threw you inside, slamming it behind him. quickly, he held out the palm of his hand and welded the door frame to the door. you’re not getting out anytime soon. “this is my fight, y/n. don’t you dare try to get out.”

your fists pounded on the door as you screamed, pleading your father to please just let you out. let you fight, let you avenge.

you heard slight sentences through the door, after your screaming subsided. it was clear he wasn’t going to let you out, ever. “move!”

“it wasn’t him!”

it had been fifteen minutes. fifteen minutes of listening to the people who were once closet to your heart fight to the death. you’d been trying to burn a hole through the door, but like little sokovian man said, it was strong.

the door started thinning, little by little. but this wasn’t going fast enough. you’d have to take another approach, would it be safe? you’d only tried this a few time during training and every time it almost knocked you out. serious naps always followed suit.

taking a deep breath, you circled your hands much like when trying to make a fireball, but the motion was a bit different. it became slightly windy in the room, a light breeze blowing through your hair, not enough. thirty more seconds and you’d be busting this door down, concentrate. you could hear your dad and cap shouting, but bucky was silent. could he be... dead?

after thirty seconds the small storage closet was becoming so windy all kinds of things were blowing off shelves. with one final breath and an outwards push of your arms, a tunnel of wind blew straight at the wall. blowing the door clean off.

a cracked doorknob rolled past your feet, picking it up, you threw it straight at the back of cap’s head, hard. he let go of your dad, stepping back and cradling his neck, “baby?” he looked in your directon, wind whipped your hair around, fire spirting up from your fingertips, irisis bright red and glowing. steve had never seen you so angry, not at him at least.”dont. you. dare!” a ball, spitting fire was thrown straight at him. he held his sheild up and the ball exploded, much like a firework.

you stared at him. red flashed inside your head, he had hurt your dad. he had lied to you. you screamed out and threw fireball after fireball at him. eyes burning bright red, tears of black pouring down your face. you looked like something straight out of a movie, and for the first time, steve felt scared.

he dodged or blocked every fireball that fell from your fingertips, “y/n, please. don’t make me.” his eyes pleaded with you, as he looked from you to bucky’s gun, disgarded on the floor.

tony knew what he meant. oh no, he is not touching his iron baby. he lunged for steve, the two rolled on the floor throwing punches and kicks. blood spewing from their noses and mouths. bloody fists and crackes knucles coming in contact time and time again.

you fell to the floor, would steve really shoot you? would he really kill you? would he really-

“he’s my friend”

“so was i.”

final punches and throws were thrown. steve had the upperhand, his shield was directly above your dad’s arc reactor. “no!”

with that, steve plunged his sheild into tony’s arc reactor. crushing it. blue light flickered and dwindled down until there was a dull glow. he left it there, standing tall and proud. straight out of your father’s chest.

“you’re a monster!” you sobbed vicisouly and crawled over to your father.

“y/n, dont.” steve whimpered as he helped bucky up.

“you-you could’ve killed him.” you grasped your fathers metal hand, holding it close to your chest.

steve shuddered. you sounded so broken. worse than the time he watched you cry as your father fell straight out of the wormhole in new york. that was the first time he met you. he wanted wanted nothing more than to hug you and apologize, but he couldn’t. much like now.

“you, steve rogers, are a bad guy. you’re just as bad as any other villian we’ve ever fought, you broke me. you broke us.”

he dipped his head low and wrapped his arm tighter around bucky, stablizing him. he grasped his shield and turned away. you scowled, after kissing your father on the head.

“that shield doesn’t belong to you. you don’t deserve it. my grandfather made that sheild.”

and with that, he dropped his shield and limped away from you, and all your history together.

steve rogers was dead to you.

——

a/n hi!! i hope u guys like this. it’s my first fic so be nice please! xx

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes #steve rogers #tony stark #y/n stark #avengers #marvel #marvels the avengers #avengers x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #bucky barnes x platonic!reader

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kweebtrash · 5 years ago

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So, I'm gonna take forever to answer this because there's so much to say. First and foremost, I love you a lot. I love how much you've supported me, all your funny play by plays, how much you've reblogged and liked my stuff, all our DM convos, STEVEN GETTING INTO IT. I love you sm.

About your background stories there's a part of me that wants to say I wish I could take your pain away because I'm the defensive mom friend that will go into battle for anyone. But also, things happen to make us stronger, fucking shitty things that make us want to die, cry, seclude ourselves, the whole 9. And it takes forever to fucking get over but once you do it's like the most liberating shit ever. I never thought that like a simple fanfic about Johnny would help someone so much. This was literally for fun and somehow turned into my own therapy too.

I'm not really one to put my personal history out there (no shade to you! I'm so happy you shared this with me, I'm just closed off because I have trust issues lmao🙃🙃🙃) but I've said it kinda in passing that messy has a bunch of influences from my life. Sometimes not exact but with enough behind it that it became a release. Again, how the fuck does fanfiction do this??? Like bro, I just wanna fuck Johnny and instead I just was like wow let me pour my trauma into this lol.

Eri is a self insert(only cooler, hotter, sluttier, more amazing lmao. Also no shit on the self insert. That's what we all do). I have depression, anxiety, a mood disorder where I become violently angry and overstimulated to the point where I think really bad things. I've cried in bathtubs while self harming, I've bled, I've had my family worrying about me killing myself. I've had to go back to Puerto Rico to watch my grandpa die without a say in anything and had a panic attack where I barely remember anything. I got drunk at a bar with my sister before then and had a fight with my mom. Christmas was hard in 2018 because it was the first time that I had spent one away from my mom because she stayed back to take care of my grandma (who died 6 mths after my grandpa), my dad was a drug addict as a kid and I witnessed abuse as a 4 yr old (but even with all that my dad was a good dad and tried his best)so like lmao time to cry but yeah, that's why when people say messy is so realistic it's because shit happened to me. I'm a queer poc who's faced discrimination, am I even black enough just because I recognize my African roots? Does it not count because I'm not darker? Does it not count because I'll never be completely black? How does your hair get so curly? Water, bitch, tf. Black lives matter, injustices among us, fucking the U.S. going to shit, the world going to shit. Eventually bits and pieces made its way into messy and don't even ask me how.

Even Johnny's assault was a spur of the moment thing but men who have been assaulted get ignored, especially the "masculine" ones who society thinks would never have that happen. And to make something (fictionally) bad happen to someone I love was weird, a story plot but also turned into something that I wanted to have significance.

I've wanted to be a writer since I was younger and basically messy is a novel but somehow I can't sit down and write an actual novel??? Idk how or why lol but making someone think about things or have readers feel a connection to your work I think is something we all want.

As for the babies lol, in general they do have some happy moments in their future. I dreamed it and though I may not necessarily write it out rest assured they're happy😅😂. Idk if my next series will have the same impact (I don't do it intentionally, I write what pops in my head) but it would be cool if they did, at the very least I just hope people enjoy it and have fun anyway.

Anyway, fuck bro, like amazing for trusting me, trusting other sweet angel babies to read this, and if anyone else wants to share that's cool too♥️ I'm not shy(online).

#paigey💕#hello time to cry #its sad hours

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starspangledsprocket · 6 years ago

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AN: @maplerosekisses commissioned this months ago, and because I am trash I’m only just getting around to posting it. I hope you like it, sweetie! They requested a fic that included my OCs - you can find the timeline they also created for me here, if you so wish.

“Where the hell are you?” James greeted as soon as Noah picked up the phone. “I’ve called you seven times already.”

“Hi, honey, it’s nice to hear from you, too,” Noah drawled back, and James rolled his eyes. “I’m stuck in a little traffic, but shouldn’t be too much longer. I’m only like ten blocks away.”

Despite everything, James breathed a sigh of relief. “Well… other than Peter and MJ, everyone else has arrived. You need to get your perky little ass over here right now.”

MJ was mere days away from giving birth to her and Peter’s first child. With that in mind, Dad and Pops had decided to give them a free pass from Family Dinner and Game Night so they could go over their final preparations before the birth. James hadn’t been granted the same immunity, and had somehow ended up inviting Noah to come along with him.

They had been dating for a few months. James had never brought anyone to Family Dinner and Game Night before, and… he really wanted it to go well. He didn’t do relationships, usually, but… he really liked Noah. He didn’t know if he could stand it not going well.

“Stop panicking,” Noah advised over the phone, as though he could actually hear James’s thoughts from ten blocks away. “I’ll be there.”

“I know,” James replied automatically, and then, with more feeling, “I know you will. It’s not you I’m worried about.”

“Your family loves me. There’s no need to be worried at all.”

Noah had met everyone at least once already, but never… all together. They didn’t do Family Dinner and Game Night very often, but when they did everyone was there. Extended family, friends, kids – anyone Dad and Pops considered in The Inner Circle got an invite, and it was always a really fun night, sure, but… it was official. Everyone whose opinion James cared about would be there, and they knew him. They knew he didn’t usually do relationships, and there would be… questions.

He just didn’t want to put Noah through it, really.

“They’re just… a lot,” he sighed, leaning against the wall. “A lot, a lot.”

Even now, Uncle Clint was wrestling with Uncle Thor for the remote over on the couch. It was the kind of wrestling that looked friendly and age appropriate, but James knew Uncle Clint was going to end up going through a wall if he wasn’t careful. James could just imagine the trip to the hospital coming, but refrained from saying anything. If Uncle Clint wanted to break his hip again, all he had to do was keep prodding Uncle Thor with the clicker.

Lily was helping Dad and Pops in the kitchen, but Leif and Runa were playing noisily in a corner with their Dad. Dorsteinn let out a mighty roar and then spread his arms wide, letting his cackling kids hit him repeatedly with the foam swords they were both holding.

Uncle Bruce was playing chess with Aunt Nat, and they both looked very perturbed by the amount of noise going on – though neither of them said anything. Their silence was more terrifying than if they had.

James didn’t know where everyone else was – Uncle Rhodey, Aunt Pepper, Uncle Sam and Bucky, and whoever else had decided to show up – but he knew they were hanging around somewhere. There were always people everywhere in Avengers Tower.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it,” Noah replied, and he sounded like he was smiling.

James loved it when he smiled.

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he sighed, though he was smiling, now, too.

“I won’t,” Noah promised. “And I’ll still be there to hold your hand anyway.”

James gasped, faux-dramatic. “Wait… do you think they know we’re more than friends?”

Noah snorted. “Dork.”

James couldn’t help but grin. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay?”

“See you in a few,” Noah agreed, and then the line cut off.

James was still smiling as he locked his phone and slid it into his pocket. Knowing he probably looked like a fool, but not really finding himself too bothered by that, he pushed himself off the wall and wandered into the kitchen.

Dinner smelled great. Pops had suggested Italian food, and of course Dad had immediately seconded that idea, so a whole heap of pasta was boiling in a pot on the stove, and the heavenly smell of baking chicken parmigiana settled across the whole kitchen in heavenly waves.

“Hey, baby,” his Pops smiled from over by the stove, reaching out for a hug that James was only too happy to step into. “Is Noah on his way?”

“Yeah,” James nodded, resting his head momentarily on his Pops’ shoulder before stepping out of his embrace entirely. “He hit a little traffic, but he shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“Good,” his Dad chipped in, already pulling a mountain of plates from the cupboard, “because dinner is pretty much ready. Go get everyone sat at the table, would you?”

“Yes, sir,” James nodded.

He turned back to the living room, studiously ignoring Lily as she good-naturedly called, “And wipe the lovesick puppy look off your face! It doesn’t suit you!” as he went.

---

He had already given everyone the shovel-talk on his own behalf, because of course he had – he wasn’t stupid. His family each thought they were the funniest person alive, and fresh meat was a practical gold mine of friendly jibes and discreet-but-not-so-discreetly invasive questions.

He just wanted one dinner where nobody asked about his sex life, honestly.

“Okay,” he grunted, situating Runa on top of a pillow-clad chair at the table. “Happy?”

“I could’a done it,” she grumbled, already reaching for her fork – which James tactically plucked from her tiny fingers. “I’m almost five!”

James gasped, as though he didn’t know exactly how old she was and didn’t already have a mountain of presents stored in his wardrobe at home. “No way!”

“She is,” Leif told him seriously as he slipped into his seat on the opposite side of the table – also as though James didn’t know how old his niece was.

Kids.

“Well then – I guess you guys are going to be on your best behaviour, then, huh?” he hummed, absent-mindedly stroking Runa’s beautiful, braided hair. “Seeing how you’re basically grown-ups.”

Leif practically beamed at that, and sat up primly in his chair. “I can tie my laces – Daddy is teaching me how to tie all kinds of knots! And! Grandpa Tony showed me how to weld the other day –“

“Well gosh,” James rolled his eyes, because of course his Dad had showed welding to a seven-year-old. “Grandpa Tony sure doesn’t change, does he?”

“Why am I in trouble now?” his Dad asked, stepping through the door with a huge pot of heavenly smelling chicken in his oven-mitted hands. Behind him, Pops was lugging the pasta. “I hear my name, it’s usually never a good sign.”

“Leif was just telling me how you’ve been teaching him to weld,” James grinned.

“You’ve been doing what?” Pops gasped, turning to his husband quickly. “Tony, he’s seven.”

“And he asked,” his Dad replied defensively. “What was I supposed to do, Steve – not show him how to weld?”

“Yes! That is exactly what you were supposed to do -!”

“Oh, wow, look at that – dinner’s on the table,” his Dad called over his Pops, and James just grinned harder. “Everyone come sit down! Protect me from Grandpa Steve!”

Runa and Leif giggled, and pretty soon the room was packed full of family and friends. As James took his seat, he spotted his Dad lean in and peck his Pops on the lips, mouthing a sweet apology that had his Pops smiling reluctantly in seconds.

James hoped he ended up with someone who loved him as much as his Dad and Pops loved each other.

“Hello?” a familiar voice called suddenly from somewhere in the hall, and James sprang to his feet.

“In the dining room!” he called, even as he ducked through the door to meet Noah in the other room. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” Noah smiled, leaning in for a kiss that James was only too happy to return.

“You’re late,” he hummed, but found he wasn’t angry in the slightest. “Dinner’s on the table.”

“Wow, when did you become such a housewife?” Noah laughed, handing his coat to James as he led him back towards the dining room.

“Excuse you,” James replied, throwing the coat onto a pile of others on a nearby armchair. “I am a domestic goddess.”

“I’d believe you if I didn’t have to constantly pick your underwear up off the bathroom floor –“ Noah started as they ducked back into the dining room, and then abruptly cut himself off. “Hey, everyone!”

A raucous chorus of hellos was thrown back, and James let out a sigh of relief. So far, so good.

While Noah went to shake his Dad and Pops’ hands, James took his seat beside Runa and ladled some chicken onto her plate. They weren’t a family of tradition by any means, so everyone was already tucking in by the time Noah took his seat on Runa’s other side.

“Uncle Noah?” Runa asked – quite unexpectedly – in a sweet voice. “Can you help me cut my chicken?”

James felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. A quick glance around the room told him that almost everyone had heard Runa call Noah Uncle for the very first time, if their smug grins and bright eyes were anything to go by. Noah, to his credit, just smiled warmly and leaned in to help.

“Of course I will, sweetheart.”

And that was that. The world didn’t end. Everyone – after staring at James for a very long time – went back to eating their dinner as though it was no big deal. Taking their lead, James picked up his fork with a slightly shaking hand and forced himself to eat, too.

---

“You’re freaking out.”

It was later, after everyone had finished the last scraps of dinner. While the rest of the party moved back to the living room to start some board games, James had volunteered himself and Noah to do the dishes. It was quiet in the kitchen, with only the occasional whoop or jeer drifting in from the other room.

“I am not,” he replied defensively, even though it was a complete lie. “Why would I be freaking out?”

He startled a little when Noah took the hand-towel from his grip, and realised he had been staring firmly at the plate he was drying. Swallowing hard, he looked up.

“Hey,” Noah hummed gently, and cupped James’s cheek. “Was it – is this too much? Are we going too fast?”

“No,” James gasped, horrified by the very thought. “No, no, that’s not it, I swear, I –“

“Then talk to me,” Noah murmured, stroking a gentle thumb across James’s cheek. “Because, right now, you’re the only one acting weird. Is it because Runa called me Uncle?”

“Well… yeah,” James sighed, and then immediately backtracked when Noah dropped the hand from his face like it had burned him. “No, no, I –“ he growled, frustrated. “I told you they could be a lot, and now it’s this thing, and –“

“Honey, wait,” Noah told him, and James immediately stopped talking. “James, do… do you think I’m the one freaking out here?”

“Of course you are!” James cried. “They’re always so intense, and I didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on you, and –“

“James, you are the biggest idiot in the world,” Noah cut over him, and James would have been offended if he wasn’t also inclined to agree.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he murmured, “but you’re going to have to walk me through it.”

Noah smiled, then, and James began to realise that he was missing something important.

“Honey, no offense, but you’re the one who’s always been a flight risk in this relationship,” he hummed, and James frowned. “You know I’m the monogamous type – it’s why it took me so long to agree to date you in the first place.”

“I…”

That actually made sense, James realised. He’d had a reputation, once, of sleeping with people and then never calling. He’d chased Noah for months before they’d finally fallen into a relationship. James had thought that Noah just didn’t feel as strongly as he did, but obviously he had been wrong about that, too.

“So, you’re… you’re not freaking out about being an uncle?” he asked in a small voice, and leaned in heavily when Noah pulled him into his arms.

“I love you so damn much,” Noah replied, dropping a kiss onto the side of James’s head. “No, I’m not freaking out. I love Runa and Leif. I love your family – I love that they think of me as family, too.”

“Oh,” James replied, starting to smile. “Okay.”

“Do you like them thinking of me as family?”

“You are my family,” James replied decisively, with no hesitation. “I want you to be part of my family.”

“Okay, then,” Noah nodded, smiling all the brighter. “So there’s no need to freak out, then, huh?”

“I guess not,” James grinned, and then leaned in to capture Noah’s lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Noah replied, pulling back reluctantly. “Now let’s finish these dishes. I don’t want to have to explain to Runa why her Uncles were making out, too.”

James couldn’t help but beam. Uncles. Maybe Noah really was in this for the long term, just like James was.

#stony #stevetony #oc james #oc lily #oc dorsteinn #oc runa #oc leif #avengers #oc noah #petey #maplerosekisses #au 2

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cupcakemendes1 · 6 years ago

Text

First Thanksgiving

At the front door of your grandparents' house, Shawn was adjusting his watch, double checking the time. He then straightened out the wrinkles that made home to his button-down shirt and black skinny jeans. You were dressed in one of your favorite dresses that reaches your ankles to protect you from the cool fall breeze, and your long hair that you've grown out for the last year was curled.

"Is it okay that we're ten minutes early?" Shawn asks, his voice a little high pitched and fragile sounding.

You scoff. "Shawn, it's fine. Even if we were on time, the y/l/n family is never ready until an hour later. You can help my family cook, or if my cousin is here, you two can wrestle. But make sure he doesn't mess up that beautiful face of yours!" You laugh as you kiss his chin.

As Shawn was about to knock on the door, your grandmother swung it open, her hair frizzy, her apron stained, and her hands covered in something, what you hoped it to be butter.

"Oh, my grand-baby! How was the flight?" Your grandmother asks quite loudly. "Oh, Shawn Darling, you look quite handsome! Y/N, you picked a good one! Come in! Come in!" She moves aside, and you and Shawn come strolling in, your high heels clicking on the laminate flooring.

Shawn grips your hand tight as you lead him to the kitchen and living room where everyone was huddled and running around like headless chickens.

"Oh, Honey," your mom shouts. "You look beautiful! Everyone, Y/N is here! Oh, and her famous boyfriend!"

You roll your eyes. "Ma, he's more than just famous, and his name is Shawn," you say defensively.

Shawn nudges you and whispers, "It's okay Babe."

To you, it wasn't okay. You want your family to like Shawn not because he's famous -- you hated when people first describe Shawn like that. To you, he was more than that. He was kind, funny, handsome, generous, and so much more. You can go on and on, talking about how Shawn is, and how he's made you the happiest person on the planet -- more than you've ever imagined you can feel.

Your dad engulfs you in a bear hug and rustles your curls. "Ah, it's nice to see you, Y/N!" Your dad turns to Shawn, shaking Shawn's hand tight as he gives him a dead, cold look. "If you break her heart, I'll break you, got it?" Your dad never stops staring down Shawn, and your boyfriend turns to you, his eyes pleading for help.

"Daddy, c'mon." You beg. "Don't do the macho dad thing."

"Oh, I'm just teasing, Love Bug. I don't want a herd of fans outside my house to tear me to shreds." Your dad does the 'manly hug' thing that guys do with the almost chest touching and pats on the back. Shawn looked somewhat relieved. However, the night just started. Anything can happen.

"Y/N, can you help me with the mashed potatoes?" Your mom calls over at you.

You turn to Shawn. "Go sit on the couch and socialize. My oldest cousin probably wants to threaten you too. Or my uncles," you tease.

Shawn nervously laughs as he rolls his eyes.

You walk over to the stove where your mom was mixing a tall pot of mashed potatoes. She glances at you over her shoulder. "I need you to pour some milk as I mix." So you grab the gallon of milk and pour when your mom tells you to. Then your mom sparks a separate conversation. "How's being with Shawn?"

You smile. "Honestly, it's been amazing. Totally worth the horrible breakups in high school." You pour a dab bit more milk.

"Was it scary at first? I mean like was it threatening to be with someone as famous as Shawn?" Your mom stops mixing and makes eye contact with you. You knew it was a serious topic when your mom stopped cooking.

You suck in your breath. Breathe, you tell yourself, be honest. "Yeah. I was especially scared to get death threats from fans. I knew it happened with non-famous people that dated famous people. For example, Liam Payne's girlfriend and Louis Tomlinson's girlfriend. It even happens with famous couples like with Ariana Grande when she broke up with her fiance. She got a lot of hate. I mean, nothing is a secret from the world, you know." You glance back at Shawn who was making small talk with your grandpa and uncles. "But with Shawn and his fans, it's so easy. When I'm with Shawn, everything seems calm." You crack a smile.

Your mother rubs your back, and tell you to pour a little more milk.

After finishing the mashed potatoes, you walk over where the rest of your family was swarming around Shawn, listening to all sorts of stories of touring around the world and traveling.

"You know, I've always wanted to play guitar. Maybe you can teach me," your grandfather says. "You know I won't live forever!"

"Grandpa, Shawn's too busy with going on tours and making music. Maybe you can just take normal classes at the music shop down by the college." You intervene.

Your grandfather huffs. "Okay."

Shawn laughs and makes room on the sofa for you to sit, so you do. You reach for his hand to give it a slight squeeze.

"Has Y/N gone to any other concert with you that's in another state or country?" Your oldest cousin questions.

Shawn and you exchange a glance and simultaneously say yes.

"She actually was with me throughout Europe since she's always wanted to travel through there," Shawn says. "She was in the crowd and at the rehearsal. She was even with me at the meet and greets. The fans loved her." Shawn gives your hand a little squeeze.

You look down at his Swallow tattoo, tracing it with your fingers. It was your favorite tattoo of his besides his home, work, and family-themed tattoo as fit in the shape of a guitar.

You and Shawn even got a matching tattoo: a semi-colon for the semi-colon awareness project. It was a representation of each other's mental illnesses challenges with Shawn's anxiety and your depression. The semi-colon had basically meant you weren't alone and your story never ended. It promises that you will overcome these obstacles.

Shawn had noticed you tracing his tattoo. He chuckles quietly to himself.

"Y/N?" Shawn has a wide smile on his face.

You jerk your head up. "Yeah?"

"Your cousin asked you if you actually like my music or if you're just a big fat liar." Shawn teases as he nudges your side with his elbow.

You roll your eyes and scoff. "Nah, I was only a fan for his looks. Didn't think much of his music," you say sarcastically as you blow a raspberry and put your thumb down. "So terrible."

Shawn puts his hand over his heart as he gasps. "Ouch, babe! You hurt my feelings. I'm dying of a broken heart."

You shove him and he rustles your hair as you both laugh.

"Ew, get a room," your younger cousin says. "Dumb love."

You look over at Shawn and whisper. "Yeah, love," you trail off.

***

"Thanks, mom." You say as you hand her your plate. "I'll be there in a second to help wash dishes."

"Oh, don't worry Mrs. Y/L/N, I'll help. You relax. Y/N and I got it." Shawn says.

Your mom smiles. "Oh, thank you. So unexpected!" She collects Shawn's plate as well and heads into the kitchen to place them down.

"Shall we?" Shawn says with a smirk.

You and Shawn get up to the kitchen after collecting finished cups and plates. You and Shawn do rock, paper, scissors to see who rinses and who washes. Shawn wins, so he rinses. You begin scrubbing.

"Your family is really great, babe. And I only got threatened by your dad, two uncles, and I think the dog." Shawn laughs.

"Yeah, sorry. I told my grandma you were allergic, but I guess they didn't put Storm away. She's just too spoiled, but is that Benadryl working?"

"Yeah. Not too bad." He takes in a deep breathe. "Ah, that wonderful smell of oxygen!"

You roll your eyes. "Okay. Drama queen."

He leans down and kisses your forehead. "I love you, Y/N. I can't wait until I go to more family events with you."

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagines #Thanksgiving with Shawn #Family #Shawn Mendes Holidays #Shawn Mendes Girlfriend

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omgreading · 5 years ago

Text

Kind of a rant about what is stressing me out right now. Putting under a read more. Just need someplace to vent it.

If you do decide to read this, it is a long, long, long post. Like really long. Just saying. SO LONG.

This week has been very stressful, with the biggest stressor, my missing niece now resolved.

The first issue I am dealing with is my cousin who relapsed back into depression. She called me the other day crying and asking if I could help her (I didn’t know with what at the time) because she was at her rope’s end and was so down and stressed out. She had not been taking her meds and her house was messy and wanted me to help her clean it.

Her mom died back in 2013 from cancer and it hit her incredibly hard. She slipped into a big depression and kind of has never really come out of it. She has a son and a few years after her mom died, her house was crazy messy and I guess not fit for living because her brother and his wife called children’s services and her kid was taken away. She had to get the house back in order to get him back. Her family came in and pretty much threw everything away and I assume cleaned the house up to where it was acceptable. She had many pets at the time and the children’s service made her get rid of all of them and said she couldn’t have pets anymore. She got her son back and was ordered to go to therapy and take medicine for her depression.

So, apparently for nearly the last year, she hasn’t been taking her medicine. She goes to her appointments and gets them filled, but doesn’t take them. The questions asked at behavioral health, where I also go, I guess weren’t specific for her to answer where they could see that she was having issues. Basically asked if she wanted to harm herself or others and thats it. So she just didn’t get help because she wouldn’t say anything and they weren’t asking the right questions.

She stopped taking her meds because she thought she didn’t need them. This is a common thing for people struggling with depression. You feel happy and you think you are better and you believe it can’t be just the medicine, but that you have gotten better, so you stop the medicine. Well, that usually leads to a relapse.

I went over there Wednesday night and I honestly figured I would find a lot of trash and a really cluttered and messy house. I never saw what it was like before she got into trouble and I hadn’t been there since before my aunt died. They usually came to our house.

It was horrible guys. If children services walked in, she would lose her son. They aren’t staying in the house at night. Her dad has a girlfriend he stays with a lot so they stay at his house in the evenings. However, they do spend time in the house.

Anyway, I walked in and I almost threw up. The smell of urine was so so strong. She has 16 cats in that house. The living room didn’t have trash in it, she might have cleaned that part, but there was a rug that was pretty nasty, probably from urine and just cats everywhere. In the rooms, I could see there was just mountains of trash, clothes, bulky items, toys, and who knows what else covered in urine and crap.

I had brought gloves with me and we started in her room just picking up everything off the floor and throwing it away. Nothing was salvageable. I was able to work at it for an hour, but it was slow work because I had to maneuver in a way that I wouldn’t get excrement all over me. I had no idea that was what I would be walking into. My niece is still missing at this point and I get a call an hour after I get there from someone who had spotted her, I had made a post for people to share on FB. I got all of the information and passed it on to the mom and waited for 30 minutes in case anyone needed to call me back. I told her I could probably stay for another hour because my mom and grandpa would be going to bed and I had to be there to keep the dogs from acting crazy and being loud.

ALRIGHT, so that is the situation I am in. I just don’t know how to help. I am so completely overwhelmed. The mess is insane and its everywhere. On top of that, since the house is a giant litterbox, if she doesn’t get rid of the animals, all of this is a waste of time. I am stressed because I said I would help her, but I can’t devote all of my time to this, especially if she isn’t taking steps to keep it from happening. Trying to figure out how I can help and what can be done to actually make a dent is one of the reasons I was having panic attacks. I don’t want her to lose her son and I am afraid if I can’t help she will. My mom said I couldn’t put that on me, but I said I would help, so I don’t know how it isn’t on me. I didn’t know what I was agreeing to, I could have never imagined what I saw. And on top of it, I feel bad for not wanting to do it. I feel like a horrible person. I want to help, but I can’t do all of it.

That is one of my big stressors right now. I am supposed to go over there tomorrow. This is like my big emotional, worrying stressor. I feel like I am letting her down and making things worse for her, but I can’t put myself to be put in a constant position of anxiety. I felt so overwhelmed over there and helpless. But, what does my stress matter when her situation is dire and could result in her losing custody of her kid. I don’t know what to do and I feel horrible all the time.

The 2nd issue is my aunt is pretty much at our house all the time and I miss the peace and quiet. This issue is like my constant annoyance and anxiety-inducing issue because my space has been invaded and my mom is on edge. We are a pretty quiet bunch at my house. Before I got back into reading I was binge-watching TV with my mom and my grandpa was working and going to bed an hour or so after he got home. We stayed in and just enjoyed chilling.

This thing with my aunt probably started in the middle of July. She was already living back in the state, but like a city away with a high-school friend of hers. Well then her “husband”, who I feel is a colossal tool and a drunk (which causes my insane levels of anxiety because my dad was an abusive alcoholic) is asked if he wants to take custody of his kids, who live in California because their mother just lost her parental rights. He says yes so they have to get a place of their own that can hold three kids. So they move back into town. They don’t have a car, she doesn’t have a job, and his job is stupid. He does construction and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that, its a great job if you have a good boss. His bosses suck. They only got paid when a job was done, so they barely had money to keep up with bills. So they moved into town and their trailer’s A/C unit was broken, so they moved in with us for a month. They don’t have the kids right now because they were arranging an inspection date and also doing court appointments to take away the mom’s rights.

Anyway, it was kind of okay when they were here. I mean they were all up in our space and she doesn’t know how to talk on the phone quietly and be considerate of other people. Their air gets fixed and they go back home, only for him to get a job with a guy who goes out of town every week. Well, she doesn’t want to stay at home on her own, so she has my mom come and get her everyday to hang out over here. My mom is back in school. She has said repeatedly that she wouldn’t be able to entertain because of schoolwork, but my aunt says that she won’t be in the way, just doesn’t want to sit at home all day. I guess she prefers to do the same thing over here.

My aunt is a massive and probably a little crazy bitch. She gets insanely angry and defensive and just stupid over idiotic things. Her “husband”, they ain’t married but she calls him that, is a bad father. He hasn’t seen his kids in 11 years and he barely talks to them. He is also 13 years younger than her and kind of a tool. Well, she doesn’t want his kids here. She says online all the time that she just wants him to have a chance with his kids but then says to us that she isn’t going to be responsible for them, her kids are grown. She bitches, loudly all day on the phone at him and to her daughter and to her stupid friend about how much he sucks and she doesn’t want the kids here and all that jazz.

So that is just a constant interruption to everything in my house. She also tells me how I am not training my dogs right and that my dogs don’t see me as the leader of the pack and they don’t respect me, even though I have no issues with my dogs. She wants to think she knows everything.

Even with all of that, it was still tolerable, not very, but tolerable.

She doesn’t have a car, so she has my mom take her everywhere. She uses her as a chauffeur. My mom went out four times in one day because she couldn’t remember stuff. Asked my mom to take her to get toilet paper, which is fine. My mom takes her and she gets everything but toilet paper and doesn’t remember that until my mom is back home. So she says she needs her to come back again. My mom does and then gets back home and gets a message that she forgot to get a soda and needs one because she needs caffeine, so my mom goes out again. She gets back home and is getting ready for bed and then the little FB Messenger sound goes off, which is like traumatizing to us now, and asks for her to take her to get cigarettes. Four times in one day. LIKE DAMN WOMAN GET YOUR SHIT AT ONCE!!!

But she is always asking things like that. I need this and I need that and it is always more than once a day. On top of her needing to go places she also needs to be brought over here so she isn’t alone at her house that she wanted! She doesn’t do anything here she couldn’t do at home. I stay in my room and read because she annoys me too much and my mom stays in her room and tries to do her schoolwork. I say try because my aunt is either talking too loudly on her phone or going in and out of my mom’s room bothering her.

I tell her she has to learn to say no. It is one thing to help family, but it is too much. And she is so entitled about it. She doesn’t ask can you do me a favor or if you have time can you help with this it is just I NEED YOU TO DO THIS and NEED YOU TO TAKE ME HERE. Like seriously! She also wants it done on her schedule. My mom gets up at 6 AM most days and she pretty much gets a message as soon as her computer turns on because my aunt can see that she is active on FB, asking her to come and get her. My mom will say she’s on her way and then my aunt tells her to wait 30 minutes because she is going to take a shower. Or there are days where my mom is planning to run her own errands and she messages my aunt to ask if she needs to go out, so she can go ahead and get it out the way. She’ll say she does and then tells my mom she will call her when she is ready. LIKE IT ISN’T YOUR TIME!!

She is so selfish and ungrateful and it is pissing me off. My mom likes to do stuff early in the morning. That means errands, any big stuff around the house, and also her schoolwork. She is constantly being interrupted and having to go out almost every day, usually multiples times a day for just stupid stuff. It's hot here in GA, so by like 10 AM she is exhausted and in a bad mood. Her morning where she should would have been productive in school is shot and now she feels like crap.

I try and tell her to stop doing all of it. The car is actually mine like I bought it and its in my name, but basically, we both drive it. I tell her to tell my aunt that I said the car wasn’t leaving and that she could make me the bad guy. She won’t.

My aunt is volatile. I remember when I was 19 I was supposed to buy a computer from her but her daughter told me not to because it was junk and barely worked. So I said I wasn’t going to get it and said I needed to buy a phone instead, so as not to get her kid in trouble. She calls me a stupid, selfish bitch and irresponsible for spending my money that way. Rants at me through text for 30 minutes, cursing me constantly. I worked a full-time job and was out a lot and I tried to explain the need for a new phone and she was furious. Like, how are you going to cuss out your own niece like that?

So yeah she is mad crazy belligerent and just a mean bitchy woman. I think my mom wants to prevent a big blow-up, but I say bring it on. It has to be enough at some point.

My mom just got her school refund and my aunt made sure to be at our house the day it was supposed to post. Had my mom go get her because she said she didn’t want to stay at home. I get up at 10 AM and the money hadn’t posted. It should have by 8 AM. I tell my mom that it probably would not post all weekend and five minutes after she hears that she says her “husband” isn’t going to work after all and that she is ready to go home. YEAH, OKAY.

So, from this past Monday until Thursday, she was over her every day all up our asses. She was supposed to be getting some work from home job that requires the internet and her “husband” wasn’t making enough to pay the bills so she has my mom pay the internet. She comes over here and has me print out 80 pages for this test she has to study for. The original to print out was 167 and I told her that I wouldn’t be able to, but would try. I don’t have an industrial printer, so this was going to take a long time. On top of that, the one pack of paper we had was only 187 sheets and I knew some had already been used so I told her I would have to print it double-sided which would make it an even longer process. My printer also has a cooldown period when it runs for too long, so yeah just longer and longer. She keeps bitching about it and saying why isn’t it done yet. I end up having to stop it at just 40 pages in because the ink clogged up. I needed to clean it. I told her I would have to start up again and she asked for one-sided because it would be faster. My mom told me to just do it so she could take her home and get started on her schoolwork. I do that, but again this printer is not industrial. The stuff that is being printed is more or less wall to wall text. The printer has been going for over two hours. So it is slow and needs to keep cooling down. She finally just says she will take what there is and go home and hope its enough for her test. Well, she wasn’t even supposed to take the test until tomorrow so she could study for it. She took it today and failed it. My mom thinks she had no intention of really trying and did all of that so we would pay her internet. She didn’t say thank you for the stuff being printed or for my mom paying the bill.

Our freezer broke a few months ago, so my mom got a new one so we could buy a lot of meats and have room for them. So in moving things out the way to bring a new one in made the house really messy. My mom said that she had so much left to do like clean the house and then do her schoolwork. I told her not to worry about the house because my aunt and I would take care of it, she always says she will help at the house since she is over so much. My aunt has the nerve to say she wouldn’t be doing anything because she had to crack down and study. STUDY WHAT, IT WASN’T EVEN PRINTED. She said she had to get that work done. I think if she had been facing me when she said it and had seen my face, all hell would have broken out. She has the audacity to say that she can’t do anything and has to focus on a test when she interrupts my mom’s schoolwork every goddamn day.

SO YEAH, I am like angry most of the time. AND JOY OF ALL JOY, she will be here starting on Monday for a whole week while her punk-ass man is Tennessee on a job. She will probably be here this weekend anyway because she just needs something every single day. She even asked my mom to buy her douche dude a new pair of shoes, even though he just bought some a month ago. He left the box at our house. LIKE ARE YOU SERIOUS.

Oh my god. I am so stressed and I am probably developing ulcers. That is my mom’s sister and if she hasn’t seen fit to tell her off, I don’t know how I can.

Every now and again my mom says she can’t come out because she has too much to do or she says well I wasn’t planning on leaving so it will have to be another day. But it isn’t often.

I don’t understand how one person can be so selfish, hateful, and ungrateful.

If you made it through all of this, bless your heart.

I am so sorry for the rant, but I don’t have a real outlet for all of this. If I were to attempt to journal this I would develop carpal tunnel.

I just want to relax. I had gotten into such a good rhythm dealing with my anxiety and depression and I feel like I am regressing. I take my meds, but I don’t think it is enough. I am either so keyed up from stress or I am having panic attacks that I can’t sleep until I am exhausted.

I am supposed to be using this time in between semester to relax and it just isn’t happening.

I’m a grumpy old lady now, I want my peace and quiet.

#omgposts #text #updates #hailey bitches about her life #this is just a non-stop rant

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