#miles being too scared to tell his mom the truth. and then when he finally gathers the courage... it's not his mom. i'm in pain.

[ekkoh]

I know you know I've been lying to you. It's because I thought if you knew, you wouldn't love me the same.

SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE (2023)

[parkers-gal]

Heyy. Could you repost the fic where reader announces She s pregnant but gets scared that Peter will reject her so she breaks up with him? (I had requested part 2 of the 2 parts if I'm not wrong.) You don't have to ofc! Love you 💙💙

yep, i’ll post part two too!

—

warnings: lol pregnancy, slight angst, cursing (characters are all 18+)

wc: 2k

There was a fine line between a lot of things, but being pregnant and not being pregnant was not one of those things. In hindsight, maybe Midtown should have told the students which condom brands were least effective, or maybe even May or Pepper. And just by luck, Y/N happened to have skipped her birth control pills for two days in a row, the two days she spent entirely with Peter. And now, though she didn't know it was inevitable, she was facing consequences she thought would come much later in life, if at all. 

What would her parents say? How would Peter even react? Would she keep it? Would Peter support her either way? 

She didn't want to find out the answers to any of the questions flying through her mind. In all honesty, she didn't want to ask the questions at all. Instead, she sat on the bathroom floor, leaning against the cabinets as she let tears slip in realization that this was going to change her life forever. 

Wiping off a few last stray tears, she tucked the test into the back of the cabinet before getting up and leaving the bathroom, grabbing her purse and making her way to the front door.

"Y/N, honey? Are you alright?" Her mother asked right before she left. "You were in there an awful long time, hun."

"'m fine, mom, just thinking. I'll be back, probably gonna get more of my stuff."

Y/N was just in the middle of moving out and into her own apartment. She was corning her last year of college, and she figured it was best to slowly transition into her own life as an independent adult. As of right now, her apprenticeship wasn't the best she could get, so she was only moving into the Avengers tower with the rest of the team until she got the promotion her mentor promised her. Despite being an avenger, she didn't actually work for Tony or Bruce, and she didn't depend on them as much as Peter did. She was still close with all of them, though. 

Walking through the double doors, she gave a small nod and smile to George, the man who stood on guard at the entrance of the tower. Making her way to the elevators, she pressed the button and debated on what she was going to say to Peter. 

The living quarters of the tower were two main floors, but the central living center had the kitchen, so most Avengers stayed there until "curfew," as Tony had called it. 

Making her way through the halls, she passed the kitchen, where Bucky, Sam, Steve, Wanda, and Natasha were located, talking and drinking what must've been one of Steve's old fashioned drinks. 

"Hey, Y/N," they greeted her individually. In response, she only nodded, trying to get to Peter as fast as possible. Furrowed brows and wide eyes they were, shocked at how closed off she was being. It was only when she left the room that Wanda gasped, staring at the spot Y/N had just been on. 

"What?" Nat said quickly, urgently. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Back in Peter's room, Y/N had just knocked, Peter granting her access and she stepped inside, clutching her purse close to her as her breathing quickened and her pulse increased. 

"Hey, babe," Peter said, his back to her as he fiddled with something on the bookshelf. 

"P- .. Peter, we need to talk." 

At this, he spun around, glancing in her eyes to try and decipher what she was thinking and what she was about to say. What came next was not what he expected. 

"Okay."

"We need to break up."

"W-what? Why? I though- I thought w-"

"We just need to break up- I'm breaking up with you," she rushed out. 

"Baby, come on, let's talk about this. Tell me why. Did I do something? Did something happen? I can make it better, I can change- make things right, c'mon don't just-"

"Peter I'm breaking up with you," she said, her voice cracking as she finally allowed the tears to flood her eyes. Peter was full on crying as she turned around and left his room. Thirty seconds passed before he went sprinting out of the room after her. 

Wanda and Natasha had called just about every Avenger into the compound's kitchen, and just in time to see Y/N leaving with tearful eyes and Peter chasing after her. 

Wanda hadn't explained to anyone what she had read in Y/N's mind. Though they knew something was up, they weren't prepared to witness the action of the words (or thoughts). 

"Y/N," Peter breathed out. "Y/N!" he said again, gripping her wrist to spin her around. "Why? Why the fuck would you just drop that? What happened to us?"

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Parker." 

"I'm not! I just want to know why the girl I'm in love with is leaving me so sudden! Don't you think I at least deserve to know why?"

A few more tears fell down her face before she exhaled. "I wish.. I wish I could tell you, Peter."

"Well why don't you?!"

"I- I can't."

"Did you stop loving me? Was that it? Did I do something?"

"I didn't stop loving you. I could never stop loving you-"

"Then why are you giving up on us?!" Peter exclaimed with defeat, both of his hands pulling at his hair before covering his face as he started crying again. 

Y/N stepped forward, hesitantly about to reach out to console him before deciding against it and leaving altogether. 

When she was gone, Wanda breathed loudly, Natasha doing the same. 

"Peter.." Nat said, walking towards him slowly. "Are you... alright-?"

"She just- did it!" Peter whined out, abruptly cutting her off. Natasha rushed forward to catch him and he gripped her tight as he cried out to whichever god cursed him.

"We need to talk," Wanda whispered to Nat, before filing out and leaving the two alone. 

***

"What the fuck was that about?" Sam exclaimed in the training room. The Avengers had resorted to the gym for some privacy, knowing neither Y/N nor Peter would come willingly unless they had scheduled training, which neither did. 

"Seriously, though," Bucky replied. "They were doing so well, things were going so great-"

"Okay everyone just sit down!" Wanda exclaimed, pacing back and forth as Natasha stood next to her, rubbing her forehead in thought. 

"Do you know why?" Steve asked after a moment. 

When Wanda didn't vocalize her response, merely making guilty eye contact, the Avengers knew. 

"Of course you know," Bruce said. 

"Okay, what's this about?" Tony said, coming through the doors, a few minutes late. 

"Y/N just broke up with Peter," Loki stated blandly.

"What the fuck?"

"I know, right?" Steve said, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and sympathy for the pair. 

"And.." Tony glanced back and forth between Nat and Wanda and the rest of the crew. "Wanda knows?"

"Mhmm," Nat hummed. 

"Well, wouldn-"

"Y/N is pregnant," Wanda blurted out. 

The silence that overcame the group was deafening. Pure shock and surprise were overwhelming emotions as the heroes struggled to wrap their minds around the realization, the truth. 

"Holy fuck," Sam whispered. 

"That's why.. she broke up with Pete?" Bucky said. 

"Mhmm," Wanda hummed back quickly. "I could feel the anxiety she had. I think she let it get the best of her. She was still in shock, still panicking. I don't think she's known for long." 

"We have to do-"

"No, we don't do anything. Nobody says a thing, nobody does a thing," Natasha informed strictly. "I swear to fuck if any of you do something I will come for you myself. Let Wanda and me handle this. You all don't know the start about female anatomy." 

"Yes, ma'am," Bucky replied, the others nodding in agreement. 

***

About a week later, Y/N was walking into the training room. She saw Steve, Natasha, Peter, Tony, and Bucky standing around talking about something, and as much as she wanted to avoid him, she also knew that she had to attend training. 

"Hey, Y/N/N," Tony greeted. "I'm making some schedule changes."

"Okay.." she said after a moment, putting her bag on the bench as she glanced at his clipboard before making eye contact again. 

"Pete, you're in for four days a week, each a two hour session. You'll spar with Steve for two sessions, five mile runs with Nat, power training with Bucky and Sam, you know the drill."

"Y/N," he started, flipping a page. "I'm.. cutting your sessions to thirty minutes each. Only twice a week."

"What the fuck, why, Tony?" She asked.

"Yeah, that seems unreasonable and unfair. She gets less time and I get more?" Peter joined. 

"Well, I just want to be cautious with the baby on the way and all that," Tony said nonchalantly.

Time seemed to freeze as the group went dead silent, all except for Peter. 

"Baby? What baby? What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked, glancing between Tony and Y/N. "Y/N? Ar- are you- are you pregnant?" 

She closed her eyes and exhaled, her hands clammy and sweaty as they were balled into fists.

"I'-I'm..."

"Is that why you broke up with me?" he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as the realization hit him. "You thought you'd leave me before I had the chance to do that do you?"

"I can't do this right now," Y/N breathed, rushing out of the room. Peter ran after her, and Natasha punched Tony in the arm once they had left. 

"Y/N, Y/N!" Peter exclaimed, catching up to her and spinning her around. "Is it true?"

She closed her eyes before nodding again. When she opened her lids, her eyes were glossy and red, "Yeah." 

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he whispered, voice cracking. 

"I don't- I don't know, Peter! I was so afraid you were going to break up with me or leave me or that you were going to hate me if I didn't keep it or that my parents would disown me or some shit like that! I just did it first to avoid it all."

"Avoid it all?" Peter repeated. "I love you, Y/N," he stated, grabbing both of her hands. "A baby isn't going to change that, whether you keep it or you don't. It's your body, so it's your choice," he said, and her head rolled in disbelief as she sighed. "I love you," he stated again, tightening his grip on her hands. "And you're carrying my baby. Did you ever think I'd be happy?"

"Peter we're so young, basically fresh out of high school-" 

"I know it's unplanned, Y/N, and that makes it so scary. But I would never abandon you like that."

"I really love you, Peter," Y/N huffed out, her tears beginning to free fall now. 

"I know baby," Peter said while pulling her into his chest and embracing her for the first time in a week. 

After a few moments, Y/N's breathing evened out and Peter spoke up. "Are... are you going to keep it?" he whispered, kissing the top of her head. 

Her throat was sticky from crying, and after a few seconds, she answered. "I am." 

Peter held her at arm's length to look at her, really look at her, and he kneeled down and kissed her stomach, voicing his excitement and feelings. 

The Avengers, who were watching from the doorway of the training room, smiled in relief, a few of them wiping stray tears and rubbing their eyes to regain their composure. 

"God they're growing up," Tony whispered. 

"Not just yet," Pepper fired back, glancing at the pair before grinning herself, thankful they were in this together. 

(part two is out)

[pigeonp0st]

Since I loved your one shot about Lena, I'm requesting another one! Reader is a single mom and is afraid to tell Lena about her child cause she thinks Lena isn't going to take it well, but in the end Lena loves her child.

Lena Luthor x Reader #2

Words: 1,590

Warnings: none?

Notes:

Thank you for requesting! If you’d like me to change the name of the kid (or the gender) feel free to say so. Also...sorry if you were expecting more of Lena. I realized at the end that there might not have been enough (Sorry for spelling mistakes too).

———

Miles, your eight year old son, has started to pretend he’s a psychologist. He’ll sit you down, with your head in his small lap (which isn’t very ethical), and ask you about your life problems.

Usually, you’ll make up funny nonsense that he’ll struggle to find the solution to...but today a very real problem has arrived, and you know you shouldn’t be trying to confide in your little boy about this, yet you decide to anyway.

He knows about you and Lena, though Lena doesn’t know about him. He saw her on TV once, was awestruck by her “smartness”, and you let slip that she’s the woman you’ve been dating.

Dating used as a loose term, because you and Lena haven’t actually become anything official. It’s...weird. Made even more so by the fact that she doesn’t know about the most important person in your life.

You tell Miles as much in today’s session. He beams down at you, happy that you’re finally starting to take his sessions seriously, and then taps his finger against his lip, thinking. “You should just tell her,” he finally concludes after a long pause.

You narrow your eyes up at him suspiciously, and wonder if you should just pretend to take his advice and move on. You don’t. “People usually don’t want to get involved with single moms.”

His eyes furrow at that, clearly upset, so you rush on. “If someone doesn’t want to be involved with you, none of me longs to be involved with them,” then, you pause, “I just want to want to be involved with Lena.”

“So this stems from past trauma?” Miles asks, and you gape at him, shocked.

“Where the f—when did you learn any of those words, honey?”

He grins at you again, clearly proud of himself, and then schools his face into an attempt of looking professional. It’s humorous. “Psy- Psych—”

“Psychology.”

“Yes, that. It says that our fears usually come for childhood trauma.”

“I’m not scared,” but even as you say that you know it’s not true. You make a mental note to watch over whatever the hell Miles is listening to, to make sure it’s age appropriate. “Even if I am, it’s definitely not from childhood trauma.”

“From relationship trauma then?”

You let out a shocked laugh, completely stumped. “Baby, your eight. If you keep saying smart things you’re going to start scaring me.”

“Let's talk about your fears,” He suggests. Clearly wanting to move on he gestures for you to sit up. Once you do, he hops up from the couch, grabs his clipboard from the coffee table, and starts scribbling down things you aren’t able to see.

“Okay,” you hesitantly agree. “I’m scared Lena will want nothing to do with me.”

“Why is that something you're scared of?”

You give him a confused look that he pays no attention to. “Obviously I like her...I also fear that you won’t.”

He nods, finally looking up from his clipboard. “And what happens if I hate her, and she hates me, so she leaves and you never speak to her again?”

You choke on absolutely nothing.

“What will you do then?” Miles asks, and you have no response for him. He doesn’t seem to want one. “You’ll deal with it, like you always have. So stop worrying until it comes. If it comes.”

You’re equal parts extremely proud of him, and extremely concerned as you think over what he’s said.

Then, as if he’s tired of being the smartest eight year old alive, he hands you the paper he was working on for half of your ‘session’. The paper is full of sharp lines that get more curvy and tangled the closer they get to what appears to be the middle.

“This,” he says, “is how you’re feeling.”

And you believe him.

———

It takes you a week to build up the courage to tell Lena about Miles. He surprisingly helped you come to the realization that holding off on telling Lena the truth won’t change the outcome.

In fact...it would probably make things more complicated. Even now, she deserved to know sooner than this.

It’s too late, of course. There’s no point in wishing you had done differently.

“Are you okay?” Lena asks through the phone, sounding so beautifully concerned over the fact that you haven’t spoken for awhile. God, you're whipped for this world-saving genius.

“Yeah,” you say, “just...you know how I said I had something to talk to you about?” You don’t wait for her to confirm, because of course she remembers, she’s looked scared because of it all day. “I sort of have to show you...so would you mind coming over?”

Yes, you’re a coward that’s hoping Lena seeing Miles for herself, instead of you telling her about him, will make her more accepting. Miles has a very convincing charm.

“You want me to go to your place?” Lena sputters, clearly shocked.

In an instant you regret the decision you were so sure about before. Maybe Lena isn’t ready. You should tell her before she comes, so she isn’t shocked out of her mind when she sees him.

You should—

“Okay,” Lena says, determined. You hadn’t even responded to her before. “I’ll be there soon.” And then she hangs up the phone before you manage to say anything, leaving you wondering what the fuck you’re doing.

You could call her back.

...you’re not going to. You’re too scared.

——

Miles waits by the door, dressed in his best suit. He knows how anxious you are about this, despite how hard you’ve been trying to hide it since your weird ‘session’, so he says he’s going to try and be the best him he can be.

You tell him that all he needs to be is his normal self and everything will be alright, but he admits to being nervous to meet Lena too, because she’s super smart. (He’s been watching anything he can find of her on the internet)

Thus, the two of you wait together impatiently, trying not to descend into madness.

——

At some point Miles starts making and handing you scribbles of how you feel, and you start making and handing them back.

It’s while you’re handing Miles your next piece that the doorbell rings.

He doesn’t look to be that nervous anymore, just excited, so he follows you on your track to answer the door, and with each step you contemplate your entire existence beyond Miles.

Then…Then you open the door.

Miles is hiding behind your leg, looking up at Lena with hesitant hopefulness and uncertainty, it’s the exact match of the way you’re looking at her, and Lena is looking at him with wide eyes.

Because you’re sure you’re about to die from the silence, you croak out a wobbly and quiet; “hi,” at the same time Mile’s sticks out his hands and says his own charming greeting.

“Hello, doctor Y/L/N here. Nice to meet you.”

“Lena Luthor.” As if on autopilot Lena shakes his hand. “You’re a doctor?” She asks, smiling the smallest of smiles at him.

He nods his head eagerly, glad she’s smiling. “Yeah! Of—of psy- psych...”

“Psychology,” You finish. Lena’s gaze switches to you. It’s the moment you think you’re gonna die, but her gaze is concerned instead of disappointed.

“He’s older than the photo on your wallpaper suggested,” Lena says.

Oh.

Oh…

You’re an idiot.

Then, Lena smiles—wider this time because of your dumbstruck expression—and looks at Miles. “To be a doctor you have to be pretty smart.”

He nods, his eyes practically full of stars.

“That’s how I know you and I are going to get along great.”

Miles grins madly, pushes you a bit to the side so Lena can come in, and says, eager, “can I show you my work, please?”

And Lena looks from you, to him, laughs a laugh full of amusement and endearment, and agrees gracefully. “I’d love it if you would.”

———

Lena adores Miles.

Around him she almost seems, impossibly, like a child herself. She so obviously and beautifully wants him to like her, and all the while Miles is almost exactly the same around her.

They’re both complete dorks trying to subtly get each other's attention and all you want to do is watch the two of them interact for ages.

They both were two separate parts of your life, and now they’re merged better than you ever expected them to.

It’s great. Absolutely great. But whenever they turn their twin gazes on you you’re sure you’re going to melt into a puddle of adoration.

Wow.

“What is it?” You ask them, after they’ve both looked at you for too long without saying anything.

Lena tilts her head, her smile concerned again, “you look like you’re about to cry.”

Miles nods his agreement. “What’s wrong mom? Does whatever bothering you stem from childhood trauma?” He asks, and at Lena’s ‘the fuck’ face you burst out into a fit of laughter, that quickly turns into tears of absolute love.

Both Miles and Lena looked at you with alarm because they don’t realize this is the happiest you’ve been in a while. It is though. It is.

“Not childhood trauma,” you assure them both, and before Miles can suggest it you add; “not past relationship trauma either, it’s happy tears.”

“Oh,” Lena stutters, “good.”

“Oh,” Miles repeats, sounding relieved and a tad bit disappointed. “I haven’t learned how to deal with those tears yet.”

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Prosecutor Phoenix Wright AU

Okay, I’m a little nervous, but here we go... this is my Prosecutor Wright AU.

Now if we’re switching Phoenix and Edgeworth we have to include being raised by Von Karma. I’ll have to admit THAT was my biggest dilemma. The first problem was WHY. Why on Earth would Manfred Von Karma raise this random orphan child? And to complicate the meter the first trilogy is deep down all about DL-6 and so this HAS to be in some way part of the adaptation.

After stomping on this brick wall, I gave up for a while. Them I had to do a very important paper from college, so my brain decided “fuck it, write fanfic” and I got the perfect solution (I’m still doing the paper btw). So let 's start.

To begin with we need to go into Phoenix home life. And this is EASY. He has none. Lol, but really, except for Ryunosuke there’s no canon mention or information given about Phoenix family or home life. What can be a little annoying but in AU it’s perfect for doing anything you want, filling the blanks with your own ideas. So in this AU, Phoenix Wright starts as a second generation japanese immigrant whose dad died when has only a lil baby. Until the age of 9 he was raised by a single mom who loved him very much but had to work double time to maintain both of them. She was the only person who called him by his japanese name (Ryuchii or just Ryu for short) and he also loved her a lot.

But this is Manfred raising Fennie AU so things are about to change.

The first change is so small it could be cannon. It all starts the day before DL-6 with Miles, Larry and Phoenix playing Signal Samurai at the former’s house except Miles forgets one of his Nancy Drew books there (no one, NO ONE, can convince me baby Edgeworth didn’t had a Nancy Drew collection and was ALWAYS taking at least one of the books EVERYWHERE just in case a opportunity to read appeared). But this is Phoenix “needs a ghost to tell him to turn a receipt around” Wright and so he only realises that on the other day and only ‘cause his mom notice. So he goes to Miles' house to give the book back, Except there’s no one there. A reasonable person would just go back home and come back later, but this is Phoenix, not only that but child Phoenix so he does the only thing he can... he asks around and “investigates” until discovering that Miles and Gregory are in the courthouse (it’s not that Miles weren’t gushing over it for days is more that Phoenix forgot what day would the whole courthouse visit happen). And as you can imagine he runs towards the courthouse.

He runs.

It’s a long way.

The earthquake happens.

Fortunately the earthquake did nothing to him, even though it was a strong earthquake, he just fell and scraped his knees a bit. But now he was extremely worried about the Edgeworths. He ran faster. Until he finally got into the courthouse, he sprinted inside, ignoring any guard who could say something about this random child running around a courthouse. And he finally got there... to see a broken elevator open and a man with a gun. He froze. Von Karma shot. Phoenix dropped the book.

And then Manfred Von Karma saw the only mistake in his perfect crime, the child who by all means should not be there, wasn’t there seconds ago and had seen him murdering a man. Phoenix tried to run towards Miles and Gregory and do something. He was screaming for help and there was a huge chance the guards would get there and see if he shot the kid, besides, Gregory suffered cause he dared to cross the Von Karma legacy, this child was not part of it, killing him was a whole different ordeal. Fortunately for Manfred the kid was in shock and so said nothing when the help came. He almost hoped the kid would be too scared to talk.

And maybe this could be his downfall if Phoenix Wright was not an idealist. But even as an adult he was, he always believed that the truth would prevail, that if confronted with it people would have to confess. So he did what Phoenix Wright does and after the ambulance had came he confronted Manfred Von Karma and accused him of murder. Not only that but as he had heard the two shots he found out way easier about the shoulder bullet so he had proof. As you can imagine Manfred Von Karma didn’t react well by being accused of murder and threatened Phoenix trying to scare him to keep his mouth shut.

It seemed to have worked. Until looking in the DL-6 information (he may not have prosecuted but for sure Manfred looked at all the information on this case while it was happening, he may even have been a witness as he was the one who “found” the body), he realized Phoenix Wright was listed as one of Hammond's witnesses. He couldn’t let it happen, He would have to prove to this child that his threats were serius.

Now he could show it by adopting Miles as he always wanted (to spite Gregory ghost) but not only he had lost to much time trying to solve this huge mistake in his perfect time to the point Raymond Shields had already made a claim (know Von Karma could overdo it, he was very powerful indeed). But that could very well be seen as more reason to tell. So he orchestrated to plant false evidence that Phoenix mom was unfit to take care of him and so would lose her guardianship over her son. Adopting Phoenix and using the visitations with his mom as leverage. With that he could also attest that Phoenix was unfit to present a truthful testimony as he was not in a good mental place and a child in this situation could fantasize about the whole thing very easily.

Now, in the beginning that didn’t stop Phoenix but as his mother situacion was getting worse and worse, to the point Manfred put her in jail by false charges of selling drugs and abusing her son. And a shit ton of gaslight by his new guardian, he just gave up. His mind started represing and mixing the memories until a point he had no idea what had happened after he got to the courthouse. And he started kinda believing Von Karma when he said he just found the body and even that his mother may be guilty, that there were criminals everywhere and the only way to not be betrayed was to learn to doubt them and bring them to justice.

It’s important to notice that Phoenix doesn't deal well with having his idealism crushed. It happened twice in canon, first in Justice for All wich the Engarde Case and he having to realize he can’t save everyone and this isn’t his job, that his compromise is with the truth and not with his hero complex and them even hard in Apollo Justice, where trusting a innocent kid cost his badge. And in both these cases he was older and a small support system. He has none there and this means it would be very easy for him to grow more cynical and angry, but also to never truly give up on it. He may have been manipulated and groomed to the point he doesn’t know his own memories all that well but he knows he has some important information about the DL-6 in there... Except he is still a kid so he soon runs into the wrong conclusion, he decides he must have found proof that Miles was the culprit and could not let his best friend pay for something that was for sure an accident and had somehow convinced Von Karma to do the same. He convinced himself that if he did something, Manfred would tell the truth and Miles would be arrested just like his mom and probably die in prison just like his mom and it would be his fault just like his mom (he may not be sure why she was on jail but he is that it’s somehow his fault). So he just gives up completely.

Now Von Karma will make Phoenix a prosecutor. He knows the kid has potential, he discovered the bullet thing (it wasn’t that hard he had just taken the shot but still), he thought fast and gave up hard but more important by being Manfred’s ward the boy was now part of the Von Karma name and so he had to honour it. But he wasn’t as determined as he was with Miles, after all there was no ghost for him to spite. Phoenix was also very different to Edgeworth in intellect. Miles is a traditional genius, you ask him to learn a new language in two days at age nine and he will. You ask Phoenix to learn a new language in a month at the age twelve and he will come up with a brand new language. It's a surprisingly functional and well thought language that could very well be a real one but it’s still not what was asked for nor will it be seen as useful by most people. Add that to Phoenix's big-hearth and his usual lack of strong competitiveness and we have a whole new relationship with Fransiska.

The thing is Miles and Fransiska used to be real close but having her dad blatant giving more attention to her brother (even if it was a negative one) and constantly pitching them against each other their relationship became strained. Not to mention neither were very good at talking about feelings. But with Phoenix that wouldn't happen. At most she would be the one held in higher standards. He would help her with something in the first days, maybe picking something from a higher shelf (not that he would be THAT taller than her) or unpromptly taking the blame for something she broke. And at first she would use that as an excuse to be nice to him saying she didn’t want a debt and turning it into a competition, until with time they would drop the excuses and become close. She would find him even more foolish than she found Miles and also too foolishly emotional. She would also be very protective of her little brother (I genuinely believe Fran started calling Miles her little brother because he got into the family after her and on her baby brain that could only mean he was the little brother even if he was older).

As a prosecutor I think he would be a lot like Beanix, more cynical and sarcastic, almost always with a poker face, hiding the over emotional, big hearted, scared little boy he is inside. He would mimic Von Karma but in his wild style, turning the game around dramatically and throwing witnesses and attorneys off their feet. He majored in theater for a while in canon and was a great artist as a kid so he would probably use it to cope and add to his aesthetic (because prosecutors HAVE aesthetics on Ace Attorney it’s just how it is). Using stage prompts to mark his points (his courtroom signature because prosecutors ALSO HAVE signature moves in Ace Attorney). There would always have a small voice in his head asking if he’s really defending the truth and doing the right thing but he usually ignores it... that is until Miles Edgeworth comes back to his life as a promising new attorney.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Under Silken Skies [Spencer Reid x fem! Reader]

A/N - just an angsty little oneshot I needed to get out of my head. Fufills my Break Up Square on my CM Bingo Card for @cmbingo​ . My permanent Tag List is open. Find my CM Bingo Masterlist Here. Find my full masterlist here.

My request are also Open for prompts/reqs/headcannons/aesthetics or just to say hi.

CW - major character death and lots of angst. Very vague mentions of smut and virgin! Spencer, vague mentions of Maeve and what happens to Spencer in the S15 finale (if it had ended differently). This does not have a happy ending.

WC: 4K

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He was eleven and you were thirteen. You didn’t know his name, only he was smart and awkward and got teased because of those things.

You found him tied to a flagpole as you’d left detention one night on your way across the soccer field. He was naked aside from his underwear and blindfolded. 

He cried as you untied him, his skin like ice. You insisted you were there to help, whether he believed you or not you weren’t sure. 

You stripped off your oversized jumper and slipped it over his head, helping him guide his arms in the holes. He didn’t thank you. He didn’t ask why. He just wrapped himself in the warmth.

He told you his name was Spencer. Spencer Reid and he’d been tricked by a girl and stripped of his clothes and tied to the flagpole. 

He’d been there hours before you found him. 

You sat together on the dewy grass, no more than a handful of words passed between you. He asked why you’d helped, why you’d stayed but you’d simply shrugged. 

Maybe you’d felt bad for him or maybe you’d felt drawn to him. You knew all about school bullies. 

He seemed so small and unsure of himself, as though the mere act of sitting with you was cause for panic. 

He didn’t make eye contact. You saw him glance in your direction a few times when you weren’t looking. 

He was so fragile you didn’t understand how anyone could do that to such an innocent creature. He just wanted to fit in, isn’t that all we really wanted? 

He couldn’t help being smart. 

There was a sadness about him that went further than what the bullies had done today. You could tell it was the kind of air that followed him around, a permanent dark cloud. 

It hurt you to know someone so young could carry so much pain. It didn’t seem fair that at his tender age he already seemed defeated by the world that surely had so much more to throw at him. 

What if he wasn’t strong enough to cope with the terrors of the world? You hoped maybe these formative years would make him stronger against what was to come. Maybe it was helping to build up those walls early, making him stronger for the horrors he would no doubt have to face later in life.

You weren’t sure, but one thing you were sure of was Spencer Reid had sad, sad eyes. You could tell he needed a friend and maybe you could be it. Maybe you could protect him.

So for now the two of you sat side by side on the soccer field, under the moonlit silken sky.

***

He was twelve and you fourteen and he was finally getting out of the hell hole that was high school. 

It was his graduation day and his gown drowned his small frame and his cap was too big for his head and kept falling to the side.

You straightened it for him again and gave him a soft smile. 

He was going to CalTech in the fall and you were so proud of him, but gosh were you going to miss him. 

It had only been little over a year since the night on the soccer field but the two of you had become friends. He helped you with your homework and you kept the bullies away from him. 

You’d become his protector, he looked up to you and although he would never tell anyone this, he had a crush on you. A big one. 

He was excited about CalTech but he was sad to leave you. 

There were a lot of mixed emotions in the air. You’d stay in touch and he’d come back and visit but it wouldn’t be the same.

Who was going to keep him safe at college? Who was going to keep an eye on him? What happened if the bullies at CalTech were even worse and you were hundreds of miles away not being able to do anything about it?

He’d told you not to worry about him, that he’d be fine but it was hard not to. He was still so tiny and fragile, like a baby bird and if truth be told you were scared for him. 

“I’m proud of you Crash.” You straightened his tie. 

He rolled his eyes under his thick glasses. One time you’d heard his mom call him that and you hadn’t stopped calling him it since. 

“Thanks Y/N.” He smiled but it was a sad smile. 

You placed your hands gently on his shoulders, knowing what he was thinking. You’d gotten really good at reading his mind.

“Me too.” You whispered. You leant close and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

His face turned crimson and he chewed his lip. His cheek felt like it was on fire where your lips had touched him. 

“Come on Crash, it’s time.” You slid your hand in his and started leading him towards the stage he was going to walk over and accept his diploma. 

Within a matter of weeks he would be gone and you’d be alone again just as you had been before you’d met him. 

So for now the two of you walked hand in hard across towards the stage, under the sun soaked silken sky.

***

Spencer was sixteen and you were eighteen and you’d just witnessed his second graduation; this time from CalTech. 

The gown fit him a lot better this time than it had at his high school graduation. Over the last year or so he had sprung up in height, now towering over you. He had grown up a lot over the last few years. He was slowly becoming a man. 

“Look at you.” You nudged him in the arm. “So grown up.”

“Shut up.” He batted you away with a shy smile. “I wouldn’t have asked you to come here if I knew all you were going to do was embarrass me.”

“Sorry Crash.” you smirked. “I am so, so proud of you kid.” 

You gently tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. His cheeks burned in embarrassment. 

He was coming back to Vegas and you would have been thrilled if it wasn’t for the fact in a few months you were going off to college yourself. 

It seemed unfair life had brought you together only to tear you apart over and over again. There seemed like there was never a right time for the two of you. 

“You ready?” you asked him softly, trying not to focus on the thought of being torn away from him again. 

“Almost.” he nodded, taking a few deep breaths.

You assumed he was trying to calm his nerves before taking to the stage for his graduation ceremony but it wasn’t that. 

His hands were shaking when he came close to you and placed them on your hips.

“What are you doing?” you tilted your head at him in confusion.

Before Spencer could change his mind about his next move he closed his eyes and moved in close to you. His lips were so soft as they pressed against yours, barely ghosting your lips. You could have been convinced it hadn’t even happened. 

He chewed his lip bashfully when he pulled back, looking at the floor.

“Sorry.” he whispered. “I uhm...lets go.” 

He walked past you, leaving you staring in his wake.

Had that really just happened? 

You brushed your fingers against your lips in disbelief. But your lips were tingling, it had definitely happened. 

Eventually you followed him in confusion but there was no time to ask him about it. Hopefully you’d get a chance to later.

So for now you walked behind him, watching him adjust his cap, under the Californian silken sky.

***

Spencer was now eighteen and you were twenty, in your final year at Georgetown. 

Spencer now had a doctorate in mathematics and was working towards one in chemistry. He kept talking about doing another doctorate in engineering when he was through.  

He had grown even more so and was really starting to grow into his looks. He’d always been cute, but recently when you looked at him you saw a handsome man looking back at you. 

Hanging out in your dorm that night it was hard to say how it started. One minute you’d been engrossed in a movie, your head on Spencer’s shoulder and the next you lips were pressed together, his tongue exploring your mouth. 

He hadn’t kissed you again since his CalTech graduation and you didn’t know where this had come from now. But you did know you’d been thinking more inappropriate thoughts about your friend as of late and they were seemingly materialising in front of your eyes. 

Spencer was a virgin, you were not. In that moment you wished he could have been your first time. 

It was slow and gentle and Spencer was a bag of nerves the whole time. He groped at your body with seemingly no purpose other than to feel every part of you. 

He didn’t last long, the feeling of being inside of you was too intense, too sensational. But it was nice. It felt right. It felt like home.

Afterwards he held you in his arms in your small single bed too nervous to look you in the eye. You stroked circles on his bare chest feeling the most content you’d felt in a long time. 

You both stared up at the ceiling which you’d painted midnight blue and was peppered with glow in the dark stars. 

“Spence?” You whispered softly.

“Yes Y/N?”

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

He exhaled and pulled you into him closer.

“I know.” He kissed the top of your head. “And I love you.”

You didn’t know what would happen tomorrow. You didn’t know if this was a one time thing or if this meant you were together now. You suppose it didn’t much matter right now. The only thing that mattered right now was Spencer holding you in his arms.

So for now you laid there together on your dorm room bed, under a mural of the silken sky.

***

He was twenty two and you were twenty four, and he’d just been offered a job at the FBI. 

In Quantico, Virginia.

You were sure you’d spent your whole relationship out of state from one another. The past three years Spencer had been away while he worked on a second BA and then his third doctorate. 

Since leaving college you’d stayed put in Vegas, getting a job as a curator at a local art gallery. 

You saw Spencer when you could but it never seemed to be enough. At least not for you. 

And then he’d dropped the bombshell about his job offer and told you he was moving to the other side of the country. 

It had been hard enough over the years to maintain your relationship but you were sure this would be the death of you. And so you’d told Spencer it was time the two of you went your separate ways.

He’d tried to argue that you could make it work but you weren’t willing to find out. The four years you’d gotten had been amazing but all good things had to come to an end.

And maybe you and Spencer had never been destined. It had always been just a little too difficult. You’d finally thought once you were in the same state it would be easier, but he was leaving again. 

It was hard but he supposed he understood. He would miss you with every fibre of his being but this job was too good for him to pass up.

You told him if you were meant to be, you’d find your way back to each other one day, although you weren’t sure you believed that. 

You sat on the swing set in the desolate park together, hands entwined together as you swung back and forth on your separate swings. 

He was leaving tomorrow. He was packed, his flight was booked and he had an apartment to go to in DC. 

He was leaving and you were staying and it broke your heart. 

“I’m gonna miss you Crash.” You squeezed his hand.

“I’m going to miss you too Y/N.” 

It felt like the end of an era but an era that had never really had a chance to begin.

He was supposed to be your one true love, your greatest love story. But this story didn’t get a happy ending.

You swung back and forth into the night, just revelling in being with him one last time. You couldn’t think about tomorrow. Tomorrow was a world away.

So for now you swung, hand in hand, under the midnight silken sky.

***

You were twenty nine and you loved him, you really loved him.

He had turned your whole world upside down and made you feel things you’d never thought you’d feel again.

You loved him, you really did.

But he wasn’t Spencer Reid. 

Maybe you’d gotten lucky and got to have two great loves of your life. Your life with Spencer was over long ago, it was only fair you were allowed to move on.

You wondered what twenty seven year old Spencer was doing with his life. Was he still at the BAU? Did he get a fourth doctorate? Was he happy?

God you hoped he was happy.

It was a small ceremony in front of your closest friends and family. No frills, no fuss. Just you and him being joined in matrimony. 

He was a good guy, a nice guy; he treated you right and he loved you. At the end of the day, that’s all that mattered right?

So you didn’t get butterflies in your stomach when he kissed you. Maybe you didn’t go weak at the knees when he looked at you or felt like you were coming home when you made love. And so what if you’d felt all those things with Spencer? That didn’t matter, did it? It didn’t mean you didn’t love your new husband.

It was just a different kind of love. You weren’t in your teens falling in love for the first time. This was the kind of love you had when you grew up and got older. It didn’t mean it meant any less; that he meant any less to you.

He led you outside by your hand as your friends and family showered you in confetti. He turned and smiled at you brightly. He looked the happiest you’d ever seen him, you didn’t know if you could match his happiness. 

You smiled back at him, probably not quite meeting his enthusiasm but if he noticed he didn’t say as much. It was only now that you looked down at the ring around your finger did it suddenly feel like a noose. You couldn’t allow yourself to think about how wrong it suddenly felt.

So for now you allowed your new husband to kiss you, under the Vegas Springtime silken sky.

***

He was thirty one and she was thirty. Her voice was like honey and he yearned to be able to hold her in his arms.

Her name was Maeve Donnovan and she had a stalker which was preventing them from meeting.

It was the first time Spencer had felt anything akin to love since you. He was sure he would never love again, you were the only person that could take that place in his heart.

And then had started having headaches and sought out the help of a geneticist and he started falling in love with her. For the first time in years you weren’t the first thing on his mind when he woke up in the morning. He didn’t spend all his waking hours pining over you. 

Maeve was slowly but surely replacing you in his heart. And Spencer really needed that. He needed you finally gone from his mind. 

“I think the stalker’s gone Spencer.” she’d told him that Sunday on the phone. 

A huge weight had been lifted from her voice, he could hear the smile in it down the payphone. He couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure yeah.” she was smiling brightly. He knew she would have a beautiful smile. 

“That’s great Maeve.” he smiled, gripping the phone in hands. 

Did that mean what he thought it meant? Could they finally meet now? Have a normal relationship?

“I want to meet.” her words were rushed as though she weren’t sure she should be saying them. But he caught them.

She wanted to meet. She wanted to meet him. 

He didn’t care what she looked like because she was already the most beautiful woman in the world to him. But what if she didn’t like him? What if he was too nerdy, what if his hair was too long and messy? What if she took one look at him and turned and ran?

He swallowed those nerves, trying to push them aside for another day. 

So for now he smiled shakily down the phone, under the blustery DC silken sky.

***

You were forty and recently divorced. You knew on your wedding day it would end this way.

You loved your husband but you would never love him the way you loved Spencer. You managed ten years before you’d called it quits. He’d always known your heart didn’t fully belong to him.

You missed Spencer everyday and it was so unfair how he could still take up so much of your mind. It was a cruel world you supposed. Maybe you just weren’t supposed to be happy.

You’d had your happiness and it had been short lived. But you were thankful for the brief happiness you had been given. It was more than some people got you supposed.

He was thirty eight and home visiting his mother. He didn’t work full time at the BAU anymore since his reinstatement after he was incarcerated and lectured at Georgetown part time. It allowed him more free time to fly out to Vegas to see his mom.

Lecturing at Georgetown brought back so many memories for him. Georgetown was the place he had lost his virginity, the place he’d told you he loved you for the first time. Georgetown held so many pleasant memories for Spencer but they were all bittersweet.

After spending some time grieving Maeve after she died, his mind landed right back on you. It seemed he was always pining over someone. It wasn’t fair. 

He was getting coffee on his way back to the hotel he was staying in when a familiar face materialised in front of him.

You weren’t there one moment and then suddenly you were, as though you had just appeared out of thin air. 

You held your own coffee cup in your hand, your eyes wide and jaw slack. He watched you swallow a lump in your throat.

“Hi Crash.” you couldn’t help his old nickname tumble out from between your lips.

“Hi Y/N.” his voice croaked, still trying to comprehend how you could so suddenly be here in front of him after all these years of absence.

He felt like that twenty two year old swinging with you side by side in the park counting down the hours until he left you. 

He felt like the sixteen year old young man who was falling hopelessly in love with you.

He felt like the eleven year old boy utterly grateful for you untying him from the flagpole. 

“It’s been a long time.” you spoke, your mouth dry.

“A really long time.” he agreed with a stiff nod. 

“Uhm...do you want to...coffee?” you ignored the fact you both had coffees in your hand. 

“O-ok.” he nodded stiffly again.

After all these years you had so much to say to each other but no words would come out. 

So for now you walked in silence down the Vegas street, under the cloud coated silken sky.

***

He was thirty nine years old when the explosion occurred. He’d thought it was just a concussion and didn’t pay it much mind. 

You were forty one years old when you received the phone call from Penelope Garcia to inform you that Spencer was in the hospital.

They called it intracranial bleeding, his brain was swelling, bleeding; shutting down. They’d told you there was nothing they could do.

How cruel this life had been to you. It had stolen Spencer away from you when your relationship barely had a chance to blossom. It had brought him back into your life, for the two of you to fall back in love with each other only to have one final year together.

It had been the greatest year of your life and you had to try and focus on that as David Rossi read his eulogy. 

He spoke all about Spencer’s life, the life you’d barely gotten to be a part of. Hearing it second hand and not from Spencer’s lips was tragic enough in itself. 

You didn’t really feel as though you belonged here. You didn’t know him the way his team members knew him. You felt like a stranger in this place now. 

You’d jumped at moving to DC when you and Spencer reunited because there was no way you were making the same mistake twice and letting him get away again. But now DC seemed like a suddenly very lonely place. 

As the brilliant man you knew and loved was being lowered into the ground, his final resting place, the heavens opened. The rain cascaded down from the sky and you couldn’t help but think how apt it was on this already bleak day. 

Garcia came to you at his graveside when the ceremony was over. The rain disguised your tears. She nudged you with her shoulder, her own tears falling.

“The world is going to be a very different place without boy genius in it.” she sobbed as she spoke.

“You’re telling me.” you chewed your lip, your eyes locked on his headstone as you spoke. 

“He loved you know? He always loved you.”

You nodded statically not looking at the other woman. You knew he loved you, that much you were sure of. You only wished you had more time. 

Maybe if you’d know what life had in store you would have come with him to DC all those years ago. Had you known you didn’t have all the time in the world, that your love only had a finite number of days you might have been more inclined to cling to them.

That was hindsight though you supposed and dwelling on it didn’t change the past. What was done was done. You didn’t go to DC with him, you stayed in Vegas. You spent years pining over him only to have the universe throw you back together again. 

And then he’d been snatched from you once more in the most horrific way. And now it was over for good.

“Come on Y/N, you’ll catch a cold if you stay out here.” Garcia placed a gentle arm on your shoulder.

“I’ll be right there.” you told her, still not looking away from where the love of your life was buried beneath the dirt.

You heard her leave as more tears started to fall from your eyes. Your knees gave out and you fell to the grass in the rain. 

You sobbed into your hands, cursing life for being so unyielding. But there was nothing you could do about it. The wheels had been set into motion long before you and Spencer had even met. This was always the way things were going to end up. Fate was a cruel mistress. 

And so you knelt in the dirt sobbing next to the grave of the love of your life, under the grey, weeping silken sky.  

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Tag List -

@muffin-cup​

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[deanwbigbang]

DEAN WINCHESTER BIG BANG MASTERPOST

Below the cut you’ll find all the awesome works created by our participants throughout the years. Go check them out and give them some love!

2017

The Only Constant by purgatoan | art by maandarinee dean x cassie, E, 10.7k

Every hunter knows that nothing lasts forever. All things change: the place where you crash at, who do you sleep with, who do you hunt with, it’s all fluid. You can never be sure about anything. However, Dean Winchester was lucky enough to have one constant in his life. Even when he didn’t have Sam by his side or when John was away, he had the Impala. And this story is about the two of them.

fic | art

Oh Where, Oh Where, Has My Memory Gone? by lux-tuli | art by eprimacol dean x sam, T,

During the events of “Swap Meat”, Sam gets amnesia when his soul is finally put back into his own body. Not knowing who he is and unaware that Dean is his brother, Lucifer captures him and Dean has to try to save him before he says “yes”.

fic | art

Twelve Miles from the Border by audaciousdean | art by bluefire986 dean x sam wesson, E, 72.9k

Ask anyone in town who Dean Winchester is and they'll tell you that he’s the boy with leashed anger. He’s an enigma wrapped in an enigma wrapped in street racing, cheap whiskey and stale cigarettes. He’s got bruised skin and bloody knuckles, breathy whispers of dreams that would never be fulfilled and swollen lips. He’s a feral beast caged within that small town with a weakness for the only thing that he loved that could kill him. That thing was Sam Wesson. If you were to ask the boy with the shaggy hair wearing khaki slacks and an oversized hoodie draping his bony limbs, being the abnormal in the town of normal, he would say that Dean Winchester was nothing more than a boy who was too stuck to move, believing that his destiny was written, not made. It’s the story of darkened streets coated with burnt rubber. It’s the story of two boys who were so opposite of the norm, one the town outcast barely making ends meet and the other too smart for his own good. It’s the story of a taboo love and growing up too quick and falling just a little too far. It’s the story of pain and agony, of devotion and sacrifices. It’s the story of what you’re willing to give up just to keep your head above water.

fic | art

Camp Spoopernatural by tahmoh | art by allovely dean x cas, M, 20.3k

Welcome to Camp Spoopernatural {Novak Range} Do you want to scare someone half to death? Need to exact revenge or find a surefire new prank? Or do you just want to have some good fun with a few friends? Then Spoopernatural is the place for you! Not only do we feature 4 cabins that can suit up to parties of 16*, but we also include a range of incredible packages to suit your needs. Check them out here! When Sam spots an advert that gives him the perfect opportunity to prank his brother Dean, he can't resist. Although, it doesn’t turn out quite like he’d hoped.

fic | art

I'll Follow You Into The Dark by lafitte  | art by the amazing schnitzelpriester dean x cas, G,

When his Dad disappears, Dean spends the first few months tracking down all the places his Dad visited right before he fell off the grid. While rolling through one such town he comes across Castiel Novak, one of the few good friends he had in his childhood. Turns out, after the death of his foster mom Naomi due to ‘exceptional circumstances’, Cas has become a hunter too, one who specializes in finding and killing demons. Dean has been planning to drag Sam back into the game if their Dad is gone for too long, but since he’s already so hesitant about it, will Castiel give him an excuse to put off telling Sam the truth? Or does he know more that he shows? Then there’s Crowley, the only one who seems to have the answers Dean’s been waiting for all his life. Between hunting alone and trying to find his Dad, Dean finds himself thrown in an unlikely partnership, confronting things he’s been trying to avoid for a long time, and at war with himself. He just hopes someone’s got his back.

fic | art

Under Bloodied Water by mycroft-silently-judges-you/VictoriaAGrey | art by winchesterchola​/stargazingchola dean x sam, M, 11.8k

Dean has run away from Sam after his soul being reunited with his body brought with it an unwelcome revelation about their relationship. But just because he's managed to run away from his brother doesn't mean he can also hide from his job. Reports of something singing its victims to death are rocking the seaside town Dean has retreated to and it's up to him alone to take care of the problem... that is, until his brother shows up.

fic | art

The Road To Nowhere by metatron-the-transformer | art by K6034art gen, T, 28.1k

Dean Winchester is a foreign journalist covering civil unrest in the city of Tskhinvali. Dean gets caught in the crossfire as he fights to get himself and his charge, teenager Krissy to safety. The journalist discovers that being on the run with a stubborn sixteen year old is his toughest assignment yet.

fic | art

Laundry Day by posingasme | art by liliaeth dean x nancy, G, 13.1k

For his entire life, the only consistency had been the recurring event called Laundry Day. It was a day between hunts, when Dean found a small town to run errands of all kinds, including, of course, cleaning clothes. This particular Laundry Day isn't going as planned, especially since Dean could swear that when it started this morning, he'd had a kid brother named Sam...

fic | art

In Dark Matters by cuddlemonsterdean/KelpietheThundergod | art by dissolving-worlds dean x cas, M, 21.8k

Canon Divergent after 10x03: Soul Survivor. After being cured, Dean struggles with the emotional pain and the guilt he hadn't been able to feel while he was a demon. He's scared the Mark will take control of him again and deliberately lets himself get injured during cases because he feels like the pain helps him fight the Mark's influence. That doesn't work out indefinitely though, and it's only when Dean finally breaks down under the weight of it all that Sam and Cas notice something is seriously wrong.

fic | art

Business Trip by jack-trades-writer  | art by emmatheslayer dean x cas, E, 10.1k

Dean isn't a huge fan of Castiel's business trips. A few days into Castiel's latest trip is all it takes to get Dean thinking about more creative ways to get satisfaction with Castiel so far away. It's his own fault for not thinking that things would escalate from there.

fic | art

2018

I Wouldn’t Mind a Kiss, but Not the Puppy Kind by blackrose_17 | art by be_my_precious dean x sam, M, 16.1k

All his life Dean wanted to be a firefighter he never expected to be a father as well but he utterly adores his daughter Leia. Dean is happy being a single father with a few flings here and there but he never expected that kindergarten teacher Sam Singer would rock his world once again. Now he finds himself dealing with his feelings for Sam and a daughter who wants a puppy and isn't above using her charms to get one. Can they both get what they want?

fic | art

Purgatory: Population 1 by jhoomwrites | art by idjitsaviors dean x cas, M, 13.2k

While helping out a group of terraformers, Dean ends up with a mysterious Mark on his arm that gives him the urge to kill. After giving up on the idea of a cure, Dean comes up with the only solution he can think of: he takes his ship, picks a direction, and flies until he’s so lost no one will ever find him. And for a few years, it works. Dean has a planet full of monsters all to himself, monsters he can kill and maim and satisfy his dark impulses. At least until a stranger crash lands on his planet. Will Dean be able to resist long enough to help this man leave? And what if he doesn't want him to leave?

fic | art

Finish Lines by smalltrolven | art by sillie82 dean x sam, E, 10.3k

Dean’s wondering if there’s a finish line for them like there was for Jesse and Cesar. Between the search for some way to keep Amara off his case and cleaning out Magnus’ hideaway there’s just enough time to work out those details with the one guy who would know, Sam.

fic | art

The Perils of Inviting the son of Satan into Your Bunker by soy-em | art by nisaki-chan​ dean x sam, E, 11k

Dean sees the way Jack looks at Sam. But what’s worse, is that he can see the way Sam is starting to look back.

fic | art

From The Beginning  by cinnamonanddean​ | art by txdora​ dean x sam, E, 7.5k

Dean smooths out the scrunched paper. It's a flier for some bar in town, pictures of a band on the front and "ONE NIGHT ONLY" screaming from the headline. "What is this?" "It's tonight only!" Sam spouts unnecessarily. "I can read," Dean replies. "Who is Steamboat Vertigo and why do I care that they're only here for one night?"

fic | art

The Past Never Ends by ShippersList | art by Amberdreams gen, T, 10.1k

Sam has gone missing so what’s Dean going to do? Follow his trail to the ghost town of Cold Oak, of course. But what he finds isn’t Sam but something else; something older, more dangerous, and infinitely more terrifying than the little brother he wanted to bring back home. OR The Silent Hill movie AU nobody wanted but that I chose to write anyway.

fic | art

An Unexpected Surprise by jdl71 | art by blusart gen, T, 16.8k

Dean Winchester is given a surprise that will change his life forever.

fic | art

Hold Back the River by seaavery | art by be_my_precious dean x cassie, dean x lisa, T, 45.6k

Dean Winchester lost his mother in a tragic car accident at the age of nine. The accident caused his father, John, to slip further and further into a pit of depression and a bottle of booze, leaving Dean to try and pick up the pieces of their shattered family. As an adult, Dean left Lawrence behind to live life out on the road. He picks up odd jobs in restaurants and even briefly settles down. But ten years after leaving, John is diagnosed with cancer and told he only has a short time to live. Can Dean forgive his father and come to terms with the past? Or is the damage that was done just too much to overcome?

fic | art

Feathers and Flowers by amberdreams1960 | art by winchesterchola gen, M, 14k

Dean thinks it's weird when Sam gets a girlfriend, but things start getting even weirder when Sam brings her into the bunker. Unknowingly caught up in a reworking of a Welsh myth, Dean manages to lose Sam, and is forced to team up with Sam's girlfriend on a road trip to track down his brother.

fic | art

Daydreams by gatorgurl94 | art by emmatheslayer dean x sam, E, 9.8k

It's been six years since Dean's brother abandoned him and their father to pursue a hunting-free life. In that time Dean's life has changed in ways he could have never imagined. It's a good life, even if it's a life without his brother. Now Sam is back and with him the memories Dean hoped he'd locked away for good.

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Soul Collector by jdl71 | art by milly_gal gen, T, 7.5k

Dean Winchester dies, again. He’s offered a job working for Purgatory.

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A Kind of Magic by profound-boning | art by amberdreams1960 dean x cas, G, 20.8k

On the morning of Dean Winchester's eleventh birthday, there's an owl in the tree in their front yard.

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The Sound Of Silence. by milly_gal | art by bluefire986 dean x sam, E, 5.4k

When Dean loses his hearing and shuts himself away, Sam tries to guide him back into the Hunting life, but a mistake costs Sam dearly and forces Dean into the darkness of his despair. Can Sam coax his brother into the light, and will they ever admit out loud that the underlying tension between them has a name?

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So Am I by pherryt | art by sandy79 dean x lisa, dean x alastair, M, 39.5k

By the time Dean was 15, he’d already learned the hard way – again and again and again – that life wasn’t fair. And he certainly didn’t need any reminders of that. Life, however, felt differently. Now he lives with his brother and Uncle Bobby, he’s a high school drop out after an incident at a party he can’t quite remember but knows happened. Worst yet, almost everyone around him seems to know it too, to one degree or another, and he can’t bear going back to face the whispers, judgement and torments of his peers. Between Uncle Bobby, Sheriff Jody, Pastor Jim and his best friend, Charlie, they keep Dean going. Help him get back on his feet, get his GED and be the big brother Sam needs him to be. Dean hits a few rough patches on the way. But when his high school crush speaks up on his behalf, when the man responsible for Dean’s nightmares gets sent away, when he meets a lonely girl who gets judged as harshly as he does, Dean begins to hope that things will work out.

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2019

Frater Felis by jennytork | art by nisaki-chan gen, T, 6.4k

Stanford senior Sam Winchester has been shot by his own father. This is the story of the aftermath and of the buildup. This is the story of the boy with an older brother who is more than he seems. This is the story of the Stanford Cougar. And this is how it all comes to a head.

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It's all in the Presentation by jdl71 & yonkyu | art by sillie82 dean x sam, E, 16.7k

Dean wasn’t an alpha, not like his father or younger brother. He knew that. He was a beta, or at least he thought he was until he presented late as an omega. He finds himself claimed and mated to his alpha, Sam.

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Fancy by laughablelament | art by blindswandive dean x ketch, E, 7.2k

Post-12x15, “Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell,” Dean and Ketch blow off a British Men of Letters social event to hunt a suspected coven. Tension, banter, hijinks, mayhem. Time to cross hate sex off the old bucket list.

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Mírë by blackrose_17 | art by be_my_precious/gotaprettymouth dean x sam, T, 11.7k

Dean Winchester had an okay life as sheriff of Sioux Falls, sure his love life was a little slow but that was fine with him then everything changed the day Sam Wesson and his son Jack and friends moved into the empty Wesson Manor. Dean finds his world changed as he is drawn to the single father and his young son and his life is changed as his eyes opened to the fact magic is real and Sam is being hunted by someone who refuses to let him go. Dean will do whatever it takes to protect his new family.

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Vegas Kimon by smalltrolven | art by emmatheslayer dean x sam, E, 12.9k

The Winchester brothers have been playing Rock Paper Scissors against each other for most of their lives, but it’s never meant as much as this. A first-time, Sam finds out how Dean really feels story, set in season 14, against the backdrop of a trip to the World Championship Rock Paper Scissors International Tourney in Las Vegas. They encounter someone out for revenge who turns the vacation into a case.

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A Little Love by HuntersWearingPlaid | art by Huntress79 dean x cas, T, 10.9k

Dean Winchester has certain moments of his life memorized. He can see them bright and clear, beautiful and vivid. The day his mother died. The day of his tenth birthday. The first time he kissed a girl. The day he got his driver’s permit. The first time he kissed a guy. The day he moved away from home. The first time he had sex. The day his baby girl was born. The day of the incident. Then he meets Doctor Castiel Novak, Handsome Child Psychiatrist Extraordinaire, who completely throws Dean's life for a spin, bringing back memories he wasn't sure he wanted to bring back...

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Stranger in a Strange Land by zara_zee | art by amberdreams dean x cassie, dean x victor, E, 11.8k

The rift closes just as the Rebels arrive, leaving everyone stuck in Apocalypse World. In the ensuing battle, Lucifer and Gabriel are killed, and both Michael and Jack are severely weakened. With Michael lying low while he heals and Jack in some sort of Nephilim stasis coma, the Rebels retreat to Singer Salvage to regroup and take stock. Apocalypse World reminds Dean of Purgatory. It’s bloody. Messy. With way more than 31 flavors of bottom-dwelling nasties. Dean likes the 360-degree combat. He likes the purity. And until Jack is powered up again, he’s more than happy to stay and fight the good fight in a world where he doesn’t have to hide who and what he is. And those nightmares he’s getting? Where he’s travelling around the world—the real world—asking people what they want; tormenting them; hurting them; and sometimes even killing them? He’s just gonna repress that shit with large quantities of Hunters Helper; because right now, there’s a little voice inside Dean’s head telling him that he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

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Back to Where We Once Belonged by amypond45/winchesterpandemic | art by winchesterchola dean x sam, T, 8.8k

Ever since they got back from Apocalypse World, Sam and Dean have lived a quiet domestic life in the bunker, just the two of them. It’s been a good life, overall. Until the day Sam’s magic time-closet malfunctions, spitting out Sams from other timelines at the rate of one an hour. Luckily, Sam’s become exceptionally well-versed in the bunker’s archive of magic, and it doesn’t take long before he finds a spell that should restore the natural order. Unfortunately, what they find when they fix things isn’t quite what they bargained for.

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Abandoned Hope by jdl71 | art by be_my_precious/gotaprettymouth dean x sam, E, 51.6k

Dean discovers something shocking about himself. A misunderstanding happens between himself and Sam, seeming to devastate Dean. Without seeing a way around the situation, Dean leaves Sam without a word. Can Dean deal with everything on his own?

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Big Dreams & Broken Hearts by a-winchester-fairytale  | art by red_b_rackham dean x ofc, G, 13.5k

He was running from a past he couldn’t change, searching for a home. She was running from the only home she had ever known. When their dreams collide, they end up mending more than fences.

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Happy Endings by deansmultitudes | art by Sandy79 gen, M, 17.5k

The Gates of Hell are closed, and so are the Gates of Heaven. It's the ultimate win. But the price was too high for Dean to celebrate. Sam is dead, Cas is locked away. And he's left all alone, with just the promise he made to his brother to keep him going. But when even that is not enough anymore and the haunting loneliness becomes too much to bear, Dean stands before a choice that might help him reconcile with his past mistakes and maybe give him something else to live for.

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Pinkerton Boys by naoe | art by blindswandive dean x cas, M, 34.6k

The Pinkerton Detectives have a LONG history of solving crimes. It's 1887 Chicago, and Omega Dean Winchester and Beta Sam Winchester have been tasked with locating the Beta daughter of one Judge Zel Masters, one of the most powerful judges in the city. This leads the Boys off into the still Wild West, riding the train into a mad world of boom towns and no law, looking for the foreigner seen traveling with Miss Masters and hoping that will lead to the "lady" herself. There's no time for love while dodging bullets and wandering in an endless desert. Part of Dean Winchester Big Bang 2018

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Responsibility Is Just Another Word For Guilt by anon1adult | art by nisaki-chan dean x sam x adam, NR, 29.5k

There were plans for the resulting Winchester-Campbell union. Two vessels born that were to cleanse and usher in peace; they would bring the world to its knees as God's Will was carried out. Unfortunately, there weren't even footnotes for the result of the Winchester-Milligan union.

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2020

Back into her Arms by deansmultitudes | art by bluefire986 dean x lisa, T, 5.7k

After a year of constant combat, Dean escapes Purgatory, at last, and he can finally come back to the family he was torn away from. When he finds himself at Lisa's door, he's covered in dirt and blood, with a collection of new scars and a bushy beard hiding the uncertainty on his face—a whole year away is a damn long time. But his fears melt away when Lisa welcomes him with all the love she can give and, with her tender touch and a lot of soap, helps him feel that he's safe again. He's home.

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That Was The Year by smalltrolven | art by sillie82 dean x sam, E, 17.7k

Dean finds Sam’s first digital camera hidden in the Impala’s trunk while he’s working on switching out the mouldering carpet. He’s surprised at the effects the pictures and videos that Sam took twelve years ago cause between them. A lot more than he ever would have guessed, but it had been one hell of a weird year, that one right before he went to Hell.

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Black by Hunter King/wincest_whore | art by leaf_zelindor dean x sam, E, 10.7k

Dean died and came back a demon, and Sam has spent the last few months trying to find his brother. So when Dean reveals himself in a bar and offers Sam a deal, there's nothing he can do but agree to his brother's terms.

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with the sun in my eyes you were gone by birdsofthesoul | art by huntress79​ dean x benny, M, 5.6k

“I want you to stay,” he said, and it came out like a plea. Because fuck Sam Winchester. Benny was the one who found Dean, and it only stood to reason that he’d get to keep Dean for a little longer. And — “When you came to me, you told me that I was the only person you had left in this world. Well, that was a two-way street. And maybe that’s no longer true for you, but it still is for me.”

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Back to the Start by Vexed_Wench | art by TxDorA gen, NR, 13.4k

Dean finds himself before mysterious beings that tell him not everyone is happy about events of the season 14 finale. They offer Dean a chance to go back to the night he broke into Sam's apartment and make things right. Wincest coming in future installments.

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Provider by jdl71 | art by emmatheslayer dean x sam, E, 34.1k

With John MIA and money running out, Dean does whatever he has to in order to provide for Sam.

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The Power of Touch by yonkyu | art by gotaprettymouth gen, T, 10.7k

Sam was upset with Dean for accepting the Mark of Cain. He set in motion a plan to have the Mark of Cain removed with the help of Rowena. The plan worked and the Mark was removed from Dean’s body. Sam did not care about the consequences of removing the Mark would have on his brother. Sam discovered the consequences would be an eyeopener into Dean’s worst fears and secrets coming to life. Can Sam help his brother overcome this new battle together, like the brothers they always were, or could there be more than what they bargained for? And will Dean accept the help and support he’s been secretly craving from Sam to get better?

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2021

Deluge by laughablelament | art by nisaki-chan dean x sam, E, 6.6k

Fresh out of Hell, Dean’s run out of reasons to deny himself what Sam’s asking for—even if it means fighting through flashbacks, demonic scheming, and whatever Sam’s hiding from him. (Deleted scenes and episode codas from the early weeks of Season 4.)

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Fallen Man by jdl71 | art by dwimpala21 dean x sam, E, 41.1k

Dean inadvertently catches the eye of the wrong male who refuses to take no for an answer. Seeing Dean as his mate, Dean is taken and turned against his will. Scared for the lives and safety of the people he loves, especially Sam’s, he disappears, going into hiding in order to protect Sam from the vampire who turned him and from himself. Dean sees Sam as his mate and since vampires mate for life, he refuses to condemn Sam to the same fate; one of drinking blood to exist.

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Matters Of The Heart by kassyscarlett | art by cassiopeia7 dean x sam, T, 15.7k

It was supposed to be a simple case; to take their minds off Lucifer and to take a break from worrying about mom and Jack in the Apocalypse World. Sirens, despite their mind games, were pretty predictable once you got past the whole honey trap angle they had going. Of course, once they got there, things turned to be bit more complicated than a siren and suddenly, there are actual secrets on the line. Now, Sam wants to know who Dean is in love with and Dean just hopes Sam never figures out that it's him.

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Free to Be Us by blackrose_17 | art by emmatheslayer dean x sam, T, 5.8k

With Chuck defeated and Jack as the new God Sam and Dean leave the hunting life behind and start new ones, that include vet Sam, fireman Dean and three dogs. They couldn't be happier.

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Shut Up And Ride by deansmultitudes | art by huntress79 gen, T, 14.4k

After the whole mess with Benny, Amelia and the mostly-okay-Martin, Dean’s trying to catch up to Sam to make peace with him. It’s just Dean’s luck that on his way, he stumbles upon a case of missing teens. The investigation brings him to the river and to the thing that haunts it.

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You Cast, I Charge by SomethingBlue42 | art by JenniferB dean x cas, E, 42.5k

Dean Winchester just wants to fix cars and work in his garden, maybe use whatever mojo he has to pop a top when he can't find his bottle opener. Sam was the ambitious one, the powerful Warlock and Coven darling, though nothing could save him in the end (or so it seems.) After averting the apocalypse, the Angels have questions about what happened to their brother in Stull Cemetary and as a natural witch, the Grand Coven is obligated to provide protection, though it's clear to Dean they'd rather see him rot. And then Castiel walks into his shop.

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If I Ever Lose My Faith by AmyPond45 | art by Bluefire986 dean x sam, M, 18.1k

As a final FU to the Winchesters, Chuck kills all their friends, then Sam. The next moment, Dean (with Sam’s dead body) gets sucked through a rift into an alternate universe where an alternate Sam has just lost his brother. Together, these two grief-stricken hunters find comfort in each other and, eventually, learn to carry on.

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2022

Number One Preference by RogueTranslator | art by Solstheim dean x cas, T, 11.9k

CASTIEL, the Complex Artificial Symbolic and Tactile Intelligence capable of Emotional Learning, is a personal AI under development at The Sandover Corporation. In hopes of impressing the company’s leadership, Sam’s tech team spends the summer of 2032 installing CASTIELs in the homes of executives. Dean, a Senior Vice President of Marketing who happens to be Sam’s workaholic older brother, is one of those executives. Though Dean starts out skeptical of personal AIs, he and CASTIEL soon become fast friends, and Dean begins developing a new marketing strategy for CASTIEL that emphasizes the bonds between machines and humans. But when the board of directors finally makes good on a threat to shutter the CASTIEL program permanently, Dean has to rely on all his skills as a marketer to get them to change course and save CASTIEL.

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Through This Dark Tunnel by YohkoBennington | art by DWImpala67 dean x sam, M, 8.2k

After a hunt went wrong, Sam is left to pick up the pieces. Trying to put them back to who they were while considering a change in their lives proves to be a whole new set of obstacles he thought they were done with.

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broken glass (a million pieces of lumpy meat) by swordofsun | art by imjustgonnareblogthis dean x cas, T, 8k

Dean takes Jody's advice and allows himself to be broken. Just for a little bit.

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Final Days of Eden by tendency | art by ncdover1285 dean x cassie, T, 11.1k

Dean’s got a great girl he’s in love with, and he’s managing to split his days between working at a mechanic’s shop and hunting while still having plenty of time for Cassie. He could definitely see spending the rest of his life like this (if only he could stop feeling so guilty about the lies he has to tell her).

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Take the Long Way Home by Amypond45 | art by MidnightSilver dean x sam, M, 10.3k

Dean grew up an only child. When his parents die in a car accident, he returns to Lawrence to sell the family home and move on with his life. Then, one day, a Tall Hot Dude pulls up in a crappy used car.

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Enspelled by zaffre | art by R-ifann dean x cas, T, 5k

Rowena curses Sam for the Winchester’s involvement in Crowley’s death. Now it’s up to Dean to learn magic to save him. It’s just that easy and just that hard.

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Straight Boys and Queer Hearts by Out_of_nowhere | art by PetraAmia dean x reader, E, 6.6k

You have a one night stand with Dean Winchester, not expecting it to be anything more. To your surprise, Dean wants to see you again. The thing is, you know about guys like Dean, and how relationships with guys like him usually go.

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Figure It Out As I Go by jld71 | art by DWImpala67 dean x sam, E, 44.4k

After discovering that he’s pregnant with Sam’s pup and thinking that Sam doesn’t want him because Sam has never made the move to claim him, Dean decides to leave Sam and the safety of the bunker to start a life on his own with his pup.

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Summer Blues by MiracleofWinchester | art by art rover dean & sam, M, 11.2k

As Dean sits here alone in the dark of this summer's night, going through some sort of an introspection journey deep down memory lane _ as he’s finding himself doing more and more for a while now _ as he tries his hardest to make sense of things. Of memories. Yes, Dean thinks; hindsight is like looking through a sharp, new set of eyes. Sometimes disorienting, yet the closest thing to crystal clear. ——— Or Dean Winchester spends one summer night down memory lane. it's nothing much, just his entire life really. or maybe get would go through just a few key moments down the line.

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Hush by Squeevening | art by alexiescherryslurpy dean x benny, E, 9.7k

Here's what might have happened in Purgatory between Dean and Benny. This fic is a happy-for-now, because I've watched this show very carefully, *especially* the breakup scene between Dean/Benny and Sam/Amelia, shot with equal weight, where Dean says ADIOS - which he only says to lovers the morning after - and you cannot tell me Dean and Benny weren't CANONICALLY dating. :-D Anyways, this is sweet and hot and I found it incredibly addicting, not because of the sex, but because of how endearingly pathetic Dean gets before he figures out how to ask for it.

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Heaven is a Place on Earth by Bexgowen | art by Solstheimart dean x sam, E, 64.7k

Dean Winchester is a lonely, repressed ad-man whose only vices are his 1967 Chevy Impala and the sex worker he sees every week. When Anael unexpectedly cancels Dean's appointment with her at the Heaven and Hell themed brothel, Dean agrees to make an appointment with another of Heaven's angels. A male angel, who goes by the name 'Castiel', and who unlocks desires in Dean that he thought he had buried deep, deep down. But there is a darker side to Dean: a side that Dean discovers when he ventures down to Hell and meets a demon named Alastair. Will Dean listen to the angel on his shoulder and follow his heart, or will he succumb to the temptation of the demon on his back?

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The Michael Sword by deansmultitudes | art by zxro dean & cas, dean & michael, M, 6.3k

There’s no stopping the apocalypse. Best Dean can do is make sure that the slightly better side has a fighting chance once Lucifer wears Sam to the prom. He makes a decision—he’s going to say ‘yes’ to Michael. And there is nothing that can stop him; not Sam and Bobby locking him up in the panic room, and most definitely not Cas’s fists bruising his body, drawing blood, bouncing him around that dark alley like a rag doll.

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2023

If We Live Through This by Amypond45 | art by MidnightSilver dean x sam, M, 13.6k

Dean feels like a failure when he can’t get Sam out of the Cage. When Sam just shows up one day, with no memory of how he got out, Dean is beyond grateful but wracked with guilt too. Sam doesn’t want to hunt anymore, so he and Dean settle down in a cabin in the woods, maybe near a lake. But Sam has nightmares of the Cage, and Dean’s guilt makes him desperate to atone for his failure to get Sam out by giving Sam everything and anything he needs, even if it means crossing that line Dean swore he’d never cross.

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Scratch That Itch by Drasna | art by TwinOne gen, G, 5.5k

Set pre-series, Stanford Era: Dean has been sent on a solo hunt in New Orleans. He meets up with an ingenue witch, Selina, who needs his help to save her mentor from a voodoo priestess. The plan doesn’t go as expected; when does it ever? Dean, though, gets a little breather in the aftermath, and it turns out to be just the thing to scratch that itch.

Prequel to “Oh, I’ll Be Anything You Want”

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Let Me Down Easy by NEG85 | art by TwinOne

dean x cas, E, 6.6k

Dean accidentally backs into someone’s car at the grocery store and busts their taillight. He offers to fix it for free since he’s a mechanic if they just buy the part. The man as it turns out is devastatingly handsome and has his young son with him.

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Sharp Dressed Man by LaughableLament | art by BlindSwandive

dean x sam, E, 6k

“I’m not here for your security, Sam. I’m here for the shareholders. The Board knows about that dirty little mechanic you’ve been sucking off in his big black car. My job is to keep you pumped so full of come, you won’t have any room left for his.”

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Love Conquers All by jld71 | art by emmatheslayer

dean x sam, E, 26.2k

Desperate and in love with his alpha brother, Dean turns to witchcraft in order to take away his pain of unrequited love. Unbeknownst to him, the spell he casts has dire consequences.

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[lumosinlove]

Relic Keel

(warnings in tags)

PREVIOUSLY ON RELIC KEEL

Marlene got into college and hasn’t told Dorcas because she’s scared of how she will react.

Lily and James had sex and obviously like each other, but Lily is scared to have attachments on Hogwarts when they’re going to college soon.

Leo and Logan question each other about their pasts without much progress. Logan finds out that Leo hopes to own The Lion restaurant one day, and that his father’s death has something to do with “The Voldemort.”

Saint and Sirius talk about leaving the island and how they met when they were eleven years old. They have sex and avoid more difficult topics.

James and Lily meet at the Gryffindor Club as promised. Lily tells James that she doesn’t want anything tying her to the island, that she hates the fake boundaries that Hogwarts has and that James isn’t crossing them as much as he thinks he is. James understands, even though it hurts.

Saint and Sirius are cleaning the Potter’s pool when James arrives with Remus and Luke. Remus and Sirius have a tense moment in the kitchen, Luke and Saint argue, and Sirius finds out that it’s Remus who sails the Wolfsbane every morning—Remus thus finding out that Sirius notices.

Logan returns to the Carrows to hand over his money and stock up on Crucio. We find out that he works for them in the hopes that they will help him get Finn out of Saint Clair, only the Carrows are angry with him for using their Crucio—they say that Logan owes them now.

Logan heads over to Saint Clair to watch Finn from afar, and swears again that he will rescue him.

part iv

Remus closed his eyes, soaking in the morning sun and the salty air. The wind pushed his hair back as he tightened the rigging, catching the wind. Sometimes his sails felt like his bare hands. Like he finally had something to hold onto, even if it blistered his palms. The sea made him feel alone, in the best way. Usually, it felt like people were always around. He couldn’t go anywhere without running into at least two people from school, or his parents’ friends. Yes, he’s excited for college, no, he’s not sure exactly yet, yes, he’s still sailing, yes, he’s still obsessed, yes, he remembers learning at Gryffindor Club, sure, I’ll tell my mom you say hi.

Solidarity was less exhausting.

The wind buffered and he sighed as he slowed down. he looked back towards Shack Beach. Saint had said they saw him every morning—that Sirius saw him every morning. He wondered if Sirius was watching now.

He couldn’t see anything from this far away. Part of him wondered if he could make this island disappear completely, just for a moment. But it was dangerous to stray that far. Even The Cradle, the small U of islands just off of Hogwarts’ southern coast, was pushing it. Remus huffed out a laugh as he managed the ropes to come about, back towards shore. If that wasn’t a metaphor, he didn’t know what was.

Things on Hogwarts had become complicated in what felt like overnight, even though Remus knew that wasn’t true. They were older now. They didn’t just care about summer vacation. There was college to think about, and then jobs. Hogwarts wasn’t the dream it once was. Remus wanted to see mountains, and huge cities, or snow—and not just for a week on vacation. He wanted to belong somewhere because he wanted to be there, and not just because he had grown up there. He was tired of knowing everything there was to know.

He tied up his Wolfsbane on autopilot, stroking his hand over the side before tugging his shirt over his head and jumping straight into the water. It was cooler from the night, but it was what Remus needed. He held his breath as he found the sandy bottom, his eyes closed. For a moment, he didn’t have to be anywhere. He got to enjoy the ocean and its predictable changes.

When he came up for air, he remembered why he loved this island. That still didn’t mean he didn’t want to leave.

“Are you headed to the museum, sweetheart?” his mother said when Remus came down to the kitchen, freshly showered. He preferred to let the salt linger all day, but he figured he should be fresh for his first day of work.

“Yeah,” Remus held up his keys. “Just looking for some coffee first.”

His mom held up a mug for him, laughing. “Ask and you shall receive.”

Remus smiled. “Thanks, mom.”

“How was it this morning?”

Remus poured some milk into his cup. “It was good. Sun’s going to be strong today. Went near The Cradle—not too far, don’t worry.”

“You know me too well,” Hope laughed, whisking some eggs into a lather. “Well, it’s pizza night. We’re ordering in so, if you want to have some friends over and take it to the den, that’s fine with me. But don’t complain if Jules crashes the party.”

Remus nodded. “Actually, I think we’re going out. If that’s all right?”

Hope nodded. “All right, sure. Be safe, though. Who, uh…”

“James and Luke,” Remus sighed. “Mom—”

“I wasn’t going to say anything—”

“It’s not Luke’s fault,” Remus continued anyway. “His dad, I mean. He didn’t know.”

“I know that,” Hope sighed. “But…Even I can see that boy’s hurting and I barely see him at all.”

“Then shouldn’t he be with his friends?” Remus said.

Hope raised her eyebrows at him, and Remus raised his own right back.

“All right, all right,” Hope said. “You’re gonna be late, I’ll see you later, baby.”

Remus knew he should take the car his parents had given him. He knew he should get used to driving, knew his dad wondered why it just sat in the garage. But here, on the island, Remus liked his bicycle. He liked the warm breeze. It reminded him of being out on the water.

Which, in turn, now reminded him of Sirius Black.

When Remus remembered Sirius, he mostly remembered bruised cheeks and nasty looking cuts. He remembered the hushed way people used to whisper about him, and how, even when he was loud, grinning and well-liked, he was still from Salazar. Sometimes he had eaten lunch surrounded by people, and sometimes he had eaten it alone with his brother.

Remus didn’t understand this island. Was Sirius really so different because he was born a few miles South rather than North? It made no sense—only it did, but only because it was all Remus had ever known.

The Hogwarts History Museum was a pride of the island. Remus knew it well from school trips, and from his own interest. He’d spent many Saturdays there as a kid, gazing at all of the small models of ships and dreaming about what it would be like to sail them, wishing they weren’t trapped behind glass—feeling a little like he was trapped behind glass. A ship in a bottle.

“Hi there, Remus,” Layla smiled at him, green eyes kind and skin a rich, dark brown against the pale pink scarf in her hair.

“Hi, Layla,” Remus smiled. “Having a good summer so far?”

“Sure,” Layla shrugged. “Lots of time here. I saw you win the sailing race last Sunday, congrats.”

Remus smiled. “Thanks. It was real fun. Sorry I beat your brother, though.”

“Oh, Lyle doesn’t mind,” Layla waved a hand. Her nails were painted pink, too. “Don’t worry about it.”

Remus had been friends with Layla since they were little, competing for best in class usually. She was wicked smart and mellow. Remus could always use some mellow, good conversation—especially with James being James and Luke being…well, whatever Luke was now. Layla liked history, and her family owned the museum, which meant Layla told tales that were, albeit tall, fun to listen to.

Remus leaned against the desk, looking around. “This place never changes, huh?”

Layla laughed, clicking a pen. “History doesn’t tend to change that much, R, and so neither do we. Unlike the world out there.”

“I don’t know about that. Nothing ever feels too different out there,” Remus laughed, too. “But I guess you’re right. I’m glad you’re here, though. Or else I’d be sitting behind this desk by myself.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” Layla nodded. “What made you take the job?”

Remus snorted as he rounded the corner, picking up his name badge where Beatrice, Layla’s mother and the museum curator, said it would be. “Don’t pretend we didn’t see each other here when we were little all the time. Not to mention at Gryffindor Club. You, obviously.”

Layla raised an eyebrow. “Me and your mom.”

Remus winced and Layla laughed.

“C’mon, we both know you’d be out on your boat all day if it was up to you.”

Remus laughed. “Fine. But seriously. You’re a perk.”

Layla nodded, rolling her eyes with a smile. “Just a couple of history buffs, I guess.”

Remus shrugged. “There are worse things to be.”

The day was pretty slow. A few tourists here and there, taking photo behind the cardboard cutouts that made you look like you were dressed as a sailor, or a pirate.

“Are there really pirates here?” one little girl had asked Layla.

Remus had smiled when Layla crouched down and whispered to her, “careful, there’s one there,” and pointed at Remus.

When lunch rolled around, Remus expected Layla to pull out a bagged sandwich like him, but instead she scoffed and picked up her bag.

“Come on. We have to get out for a bit.”

Remus shrugged. “All right, where to?”

“The Lion, of course,” Layla replied. “It’s the best food on the island.”

“The Lion,” Remus repeated slowly. “You mean—in The Hollow?”

Layla gave him a look. “Oh, you’re not one of those are you?”

“One of what?” Remus said. “No. I’m not, I just… c’mon, you hear things.”

“Hear things? You’ve never been?”

“Once,” Remus swallowed, thinking of the fight. “It didn’t really go well.”

Layla just shook her head.

“History is just one great field of stories, Remus. You’ll never get to the truth unless you listen to them all.”

And so Remus found himself riding alongside Layla on their bikes and right through Gryffindor. The Hollow didn’t have a sign or anything, but you knew when you were in it. Remus almost wished he had been able to see some sort of line to cross, but everything was just suddenly different. Low houses with open doors, people gathered together and laughing. Kids running with surfboards over their heads, towards Shack Beach. It had seemed even more vibrant in the dark the night of the party, even through the tinted windows of Luke’s car. String lights hung over cookouts, and music blasting from speakers. It had smelled amazing, and Remus would have to say Layla was probably right about the food. 

The Lion was just as bright as everything else. It was bustling with lunch-goers, and the doors were flung wide, letting the heat right in. Remus looked around at the people. Some tourists, obviously. Some not. Hollows. Some of them smiled when they caught Remus’ eye, and some narrowed their eyes.

“Hi, Leo, babe,” Layla said as she slid onto a stool at the counter.

There was a blond boy behind it wearing a tank top and a snapback. He smiled as he set some shrimp down in a frier. “Hey, Layla, babe, ça va?”

“Just working. At least I’ve got Remus for company now.”

Remus smiled awkwardly when Leo fixed his blue eyes on him. He really didn’t know what he was waiting for. Something terrible to happen?

Leo only held out a hand. “Leo, nice to meet you.”

“Remus,” Remus said, and took it. He tried not to look at the rainbow bracelet on Leo’s wrist for too long, but he could tell Leo had felt the way his hand tightened. “Yeah—you, too.”

Leo touched it briefly, like an old habit, as he pulled away, giving another smile to Remus.

It didn’t necessarily mean Leo wasn’t straight, but on such a small island, Remus tended to notice these things. He and Luke had figured each other out pretty fast around sixteen. They’d kissed. Once. And then winced, laughed, and shoved each other in the pool. Sometimes Remus wished he and Luke had worked. He didn’t see any other boys coming his way. Leo was smiling at him like he knew what Remus was thinking.

“What can I get you two?” Leo asked.

A boyfriend? Remus thought wistfully.

“Two of your specials, please,” Layla said. “Re, you’re going to lose your mind it’s so good.”

“What’s your special?” Remus asked.

Leo shrugged, but he was grinning. “Like a chef ever gives up his secrets—”

Leo had stopped mid-sentence, eyes going over their shoulders towards the door. Remus turned to look, and a moment later, a brown haired boy was slinging a backpack down carefully between his feet and taking the seat beside Remus.

“Well, look who’s back,” Leo said to him.

The boy glanced at Remus and Layla, then gave a small shrug. “Yeah.”

Leo snorted. “Yeah,” he parroted. “You’re just hungry.”

The boy shrugged again.

Leo sighed, and gave Remus a look that said, can you believe this? before turning back to the stove. “This is Logan guys. Apparently he doesn’t talk today. Three specials. Coming up.”

~

Logan didn’t recognize the boy sitting at the counter. He didn’t recognize the girl either. Then again, he didn’t recognize many people. He didn’t know anyone. Except Dorcas—if that even counted. And Leo. If that counted, either.

The Felix was heavy in his pack, wedged protectively between his feet, and he wished the strangers would leave so that Leo would talk to him. He hadn’t said two words that weren’t him making sure that Logan liked his food, and asking him where he’d been.

Logan was a little annoyed with him for asking that question. It wasn’t like Leo didn’t know what Logan did. Then again, Leo didn’t know why Logan did what he did.

“You guys get the new madness exhibit up yet, Layla?” Leo was asking the girl with the scarf in her hair. “The one you were telling me about.”

The sandy-haired boy looked up from his food. “The madness exhibit?”

The girl—Layla—cocked her head. “Remus, you…you don’t know?”

“Know what?” the boy—Remus���replied.

Layla sat up a little, looking suddenly awkward. “Your mom donated almost everything we have. I mean…it is your family that’s famous for…”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Losing their fucking minds?”

Layla winced. “Well, yeah, okay, poor choice of words on my part. But madness isn’t always a bad thing, you know. People say people are crazy all the time. Sometimes they’re just extraordinary.”

Remus looked back down at his food. “My family’s not extraordinary, believe me.”

“Usually extraordinary-ness belongs to one person, I’d say,” Leo said. “My mom’s pretty extraordinary. Doesn’t mean I am.”

“You want to stay on this island, don’t you?” Logan found himself saying. Then, he felt his neck heat and he turned down to his food.

“What’s so extraordinary about that?” Layla replied at the same time as Remus said, “You do?”

Leo just laughed, rolling his eyes at Logan. “I’m with Layla on this one, guys, sorry.”

“What about you, Logan?” Layla asked. “I want the museum after I go to college. At least I think I do. Leo wants The Lion, Remus wants to sail the world…” Remus blushed at that, and Layla’s eyes were very green. “What do you want to do?”

Logan found it strange that they were treating him like that. So normally. Logan knew his necklace was on display. It was easier than explaining why people hadn’t seen him around and pretending to be a tourist. That lead to questions. Being abandoned didn’t. And he was. He was abandoned. People didn’t ask. Most probably thought he had just aged out. People didn’t ask. It was better that way. Logan didn’t have any answers. All he had was the memory of that last night with Finn. Finn had returned to their room, eyes wild and voice urgent.

Come on, Lo, wake up. Wake up, Logan, we have to go. Now.

Logan had felt helplessly awake in the first weeks of being out. He was still sorting through what that meant.

Logan swallowed. “I don’t know. I’m—looking for someone first.”

Remus sighed and mumbled. “Aren’t we all.”

“You are?” Leo asked softly.

Logan nodded. “Or, not looking. I’m just…I’m waiting for someone.”

He knew where Finn was, but Logan knew that he could wait forever and he wouldn’t come. Logan had to take what he wanted. It was a lesson he was learning fast.

“Oh,” Remus replied. “Um…cool. I hope you find them.”

Logan just nodded.

“Well, we should head out,” Layla said, rising. “Gotta get back to work.”

“Sure thing, just pay up front,” Leo smiled. “See you later, Layla.” He nodded at Remus. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Remus smiled back. “The food was great.”

Logan watched Leo watch them leave, then snort. “That guy looked more spooked than a horse with a snake.”

“Isn’t that what Gods are supposed to look like?” Logan replied.

Leo shrugged. “Usually you can’t see their eyes behind their aviators.”

Logan laughed a little. “Right.” he looked back down at his food, realizing he had begun picking his fries apart, rather than eating them.

“I’m looking for someone too, you know,” Leo broke the silence.

Logan did. Only, he hadn’t thought about it like that. Leo’s dad and Finn. Leo’s dad was probably dead. Finn wasn’t.

“I hope you find him,” Logan replied. “Your dad.”

The Lion was in full swing now, the lunchtime rush loud and boisterous. Leo had a tank top on, and Logan thought he looked a little tired. Sleeplessness showed easily on his skin.

“Do you have to run?” Leo asked instead of responding. “And hide? Like, from the police?”

Logan sat up, instinctively looking behind him. “I assumed I would have to. But…it hasn’t been that difficult.” He laughed a humorless laugh. “I guess I keep overestimating how much people actually care about me. Maybe I should have learned something by now.”

“Maybe you’re just looking at the wrong people,” Leo said quickly, and looked up with a smile, a small one, then down again. “I know a few others who got out. They don’t seem to have trouble, so, you know, if you needed a job or something, you could work in my mom’s workshop. With me. Or here. I’m sure Celeste and Pascal would be all right with it.”

Logan felt taken off guard. “Oh. I…” he thought of the powder packets in his bag. Of the Carrows. How much do you think you owe us by now?

Others? he wanted to ask. What others? 

“Just think about it,” Leo said, and turned towards one of the stove tops to check on some boiling water.

“Yeah. Okay.”

They sat in silence for a long moment.

“It’s a boat,” Leo began suddenly, answering Logan’s yet unasked question. The Voldemort. What his father had been looking for. It was almost like Leo was thanking him for telling the truth about his situation. An eye for an eye. A truth for a truth. Logan sort of liked that consistency. “Was a boat. In the eighteenth century.”

“Oh,” Logan said.

“Biggest story on Hogwarts,” Leo said. “Ten thousand pieces of gold, all fallen to the depths of the ocean just off of Hogwarts’ shores…and never seen again.”

“But if it’s just off the shore…”

Leo smiled a little, shaking his head. “But you have to know where off the shore. Otherwise, you have a whole circumference of miles and miles of open water to work with.”

“And your dad figured it out?”

Leo shrugged, expression closing off a little. “He thought he did.” He cleared his throat as he put an order on the counter for a waiter to take away, and ripped another piece of paper down from the line up to look at. “The Cradle. You know it?”

Logan shook his head.

“It’s a sort of…horse shoe shaped cluster of islands, just off of our southern tip.”

“Salazar,” Logan said quietly.

Leo nodded. “Salazar.”

“Your dad was a treasure hunter,” Logan said slowly. “He was looking for a treasure.”

“Yeah,” Leo said, flipping a crab cake in sizzling oil. “He was.”

“And did he find it? Do you want to find it?”

“I don’t know,” Leo whispered, busy hands stilling. “He never came home.”

Logan nodded.

“He wanted to find it,” Leo said softly. “Really badly. And I… I feel like I should.”

“And was he close?”

Leo glanced up from his knife. “Yes.”

“Leonardo,” a voice came suddenly, entering the restaurant. “What does your mother feed you, you gorgeous specimen?”

Logan froze. He knew that voice.

Leo rolled his eyes, and looked at the newcomers. “Fuck off, Saint. Hey, Sirius.”

“Hi,” a second voice came, and it was closer, almost beside Logan at the bar.

Leo’s eyes caught on Logan’s again, probably meaning to introduce him, but he stopped instead.

“What’s wrong?” Leo asked.

But Logan just shook his head, and then the newcomers—Saint and Sirius—were leaning against the bar. Logan felt the breath beside him catch just as his own had, and he turned to look.

Logan thought the boy standing beside him looked different. Older. More muscular. Squarer jaw. But the same. Same eyes. Same shock of blond hair. Same warm, brown skin.

“Logan?” Saint breathed, his eyes disbelieving.

Logan went to open his mouth, when Saint’s arms were around him suddenly.

“It’s Saint,” he said softly, just for Logan’s ears. He squeezed him tighter. “God, you’re here.”

“Saint?” Logan whispered into his shoulder. No one had touched him like this in what felt like forever.

“Yeah,” Saint said. He pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

Logan shrugged. “I…yeah, okay.”

“Knutty,” Saint’s serious expression morphed into a grin. He leaned against the counter, keeping his palm on Logan. “Handsome as ever.”

Logan blinked at Saint, then at Leo. “Knutty?”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to a word he says.”

“Oh, Logan already knows not to do that,” Saint laughed. He tapped his cross necklace. “We’re practically brothers.”

“Oh,” Leo blinked. “Right.”

The other boy—Sirius—looked just as taken aback.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Saint called in a sing-song voice, looking at Sirius. “Order for us, won’t you? And get us a table? Logan,” Saint nodded towards the door. “Come hither.”

Logan was so thankful to see Saint, he nearly tripped while getting up. A familiar face. A familiar anything. Saint had gotten out almost seven years ago. He’d been there one day, in his bed, in classes, in the courtyard, and gone the next.

“Sweetheart?” Logan asked, glancing back inside at the dark-haired boy, Sirius.

Saint just put his hands on Logan’s arms, eyes more intent than Logan had ever seen them, then on Logan’s cheeks. “Holy shit, how did you get out?”

Logan felt his heart slow, then speed up. He swallowed dryly. “Finn. How did you?”

Saint ignored the question.

“Finn,” Saint repeated, nodding. “Of course. When?”

“About a month ago. And he—he’s still in there,” Logan said. “He’s…And I’m—”

“I hear you,” Saint said. He jerked his head over to the table. “Not now. Let’s get back.”

“Saint?” Logan asked again.

Saint rolled his eyes. “Leave it alone. For now.”

~

Saint hadn’t been ready. He hadn’t seen Logan in nine years, but he’d know his face anywhere. All eyelashes and sad, green eyes. A smile he wore with Finn only. He looked spooked now, and tired. They’d sat at the bar, watching one of Leo’s shifts go and another one come, then moved to a table. Watching it get dark outside now, Saint wondered where Logan had been living for a month.

He eyed the backpack that Logan held so protectively close, and thought of the way Dorcas did the same thing.

Saint had a bad feeling.

“So, how’d you two meet?” Sirius said, gesturing between Logan and Leo with a fry when Leo brought over more water.

“Party,” Leo shrugged after a moment of hesitation. “Shack Beach.” He jerked his head at Saint. “You two were there, judging by Sirius’ shiner. Could hear that fight at my house, probably.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I didn’t start it.”

“True,” Saint said, wondering how he had missed Logan that night. “Some God—albeit a beautiful one—thought we were selling Crucio.”

Saint flicked his eyes over to Logan. Sure enough, he blushed.

Saint cocked his head. “The horror. Dangerous stuff.”

Leo looked at Saint quietly, and glanced at Logan, then back to him. Saint nodded. Got it, it said.

“Well, would you look who it is,” said a deep voice from behind them, and then there were two strong arms around Saint and Sirius. Pascal placed a loud kiss on each of their heads.

“Eck,” Sirius laughed. “You smell like grease, old man.”

Pascal Dumais laughed. “Grease that feeds you, maybe. And who’s this?”

“Dumo, meet Logan,” Saint said. “Logan, meet Pascal. He owns the Lion with his wife, Celeste.”

“The most beautiful woman in the world,” Pascal said, accent heavy. “Logan, it’s nice to meet you.”

Saint watched Pascal eye Logan’s necklace.

“We were together at Saint Clair,” he supplied.

“Maybe not so loud,” Logan said harshly. “Saint.”

“Oh?” Pascal said, and squinted at Logan. “Who are you with now, mon cher?”

Saint watched Logan open his mouth, frozen, and was about to speak up when—

“Me,” Leo cut in. He looked down at the carrots he was chopping as he said it. “Me and my mom.”

Oh, Saint thought.

“Oh, Leonardo,” Saint sighed. “Un ange.”

“Not my name,” Leo said.

“I know.”

“Yeah,” Logan replied to Pascal’s still questioning gaze. “Yeah.”

“I see,” Pascal nodded. “Well, I’m happy you and your mother will have a helping hand now. I miss your father dearly, mon fils.” He smiled sadly at Leo.

Leo just nodded. “Yeah.”

“Him and his treasure, eh?” Pascal said. “A wonderful man. I miss going out on that boat of his.”

Leo’s smile was small, but fond. “Those were some of his favorite mornings.”

“Treasure?” Sirius asked.

“Black!” a new voice shouted. “Thank fuck.”

Saint looked up when Sirius did. James and Remus were barreling towards them from the dark outside.

“Good lord,” Saint said. “Rain, from Olympus. Water my crops, why don’t you.”

“James?” Sirius said. “What are you—”

James and Remus walked right up to their table—Remus looking slightly more reluctant. “We have a question.”

“How did you know we were here?” Sirius raised an eyebrow. “I mean, just…it’s a little out of your way, non?”

“Remus came here earlier, and when I told him—well, you’ll see—he said maybe you’d be here.”

Saint watched Sirius’ eyes narrow at Remus, confused. “Okay…”

“Well, it’s good to see you again, tweedle-hot,” Saint said to Remus. “Up close this time. We actually though you were going to sail right out of sight this morning.”

Sirius stepped on his toe beneath the table.

“Excuse me?” Remus choked out. “What the fuck did you—”

James blinked at Saint, then shook his head, as if to right his thoughts. “All right, setting every strange thing that comes out of your mouth aside for a moment —where is Dorcas?”

“Meadowes?” Logan chimed in.

James’ eyes turned on him. “You know her?”

Saint raised his hand. “I have the same question.”

“Well,” Logan hesitated. “Sure.”

“And she sells Felix,” James said, as if trying to confirm the information.

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Says you.”

James sighed. “I’m not here to turn her in, Jesus, I just have a question.”

“Do…” Sirius was looking at Logan. “Do you sell…”

“What kind of question?” Saint cut in.

Remus spoke up. “A does-she-deal-to-Luke type of question.”

Saint laughed. “Deveaux?”

“You know who Luke is, Saint,” Remus sighed.

“Well, yeah I do, Lupin, he tried to buy off me,” Saint shook his head with a tisking sound. “Turns out he’s a prejudice piece of eye candy. Who knew.”

“Come on,” James sighed, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. “Please, Sirius, come on.”

Sirius shrugged. “We don’t know who Dorcas deals to. We’re not involved.”

“If you did would you tell us?”

Sirius smiled, just a little. “Probably not. But I really don’t know.”

James sighed, sagging away from the table. He looked at Remus. “Fuck.”

“What were you hoping to accomplish here?” Sirius asked slowly.

“We—” Remus said, then sighed, too. “We were going to see if she would agree to stop. If it was her, if she would stop giving it to him.”

“We’d pay her,” James added. “Obviously.”

Saint scoffed, and Logan laughed a little, too, from beside him.

“Obviously,” Saint mimicked.

“We just meant—” Remus began.

“We know what you meant,” Sirius said.

Saint popped a fry into his mouth. “If we’ll clean your pools for a few bucks, we’ll grant you three wishes, too.”

“Jesus, Saint,” James groaned.

“Mary. Joseph—”

James ran his hands through his hair. “We’re sorry, we misspoke. We’re just trying to help our friend. His dad got taken to jail, his mom pops pills all day and night.  That’s already draining what little money the bank didn’t seize and if he wants to do anything with his life he needs a straight head. Just—fuck, we’re just asking.”

Saint prided himself on gathering information, but most of that were things he didn’t know. Luke’s dad had got taken away. But the pills? The financial distress? All of that paired with that guarded snarl the boy always seemed to wear…it almost made Saint feel sorry for Luke Deveaux. He almost said so.

Instead, he said, while twirling the cross around his neck. “Wow, he must feel like an orphan or something.”

“All right,” Remus sighed. “James, let’s just go.”

“What does he look like?” Logan said suddenly before they could turn to leave.

James looked a him warily. “Um. Sort of blond-ish. More brown-haired, I guess. Big guy, built and tall and all that. Oh, he’s got this green spot in one eye.”

Logan nodded. James raised an eyebrow. Saint waited.

“How much will you pay me to stop selling to him?” Logan finally said. He rose as he did, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “That’s a lot out of my pocket.”

“Logan,” Saint said, but Logan didn’t look at him.

James blinked. “I—oh. Oh, uh—God, what do you want? Two hundred?”

"One grand,” Logan said.

James laughed. “Dude. Who the fuck are you? No, I don’t have that much just—on me.”

“Logan,” Saint warned again, and this time Logan did look at him. Saint shook his head softly.

“Fine,” Logan said through his teeth, and held out his hand. “Two.”

James took his wallet out and handed over the cash.

“Thanks,” Remus said from a little behind James’ shoulder. “Really.”

Logan just nodded, shoved the bills into his pocket, and headed for the door.

“Pardon,” Saint sent a grin to them all, and followed him.

Once they were outside, Saint gave him a wack on the back of the head.

“Fuck,” Logan swore. “S—”

“You get out of that shit-hole and you go around selling Crucio? To Gods?”

“I—”

“I mean, seriously, what the fuck was that? Do you know how not careful that was?”

“I don’t even know who that boy is,” Logan bit back.

Saint blinked. “What?”

Logan looked out towards the ocean where they could hear the waves crashing against the shore. “He offered to pay, and so I told him what he wanted to hear. When his friend shows up hallucinating next, that’s their problem.”

Saint scoffed. “Fine, okay, clever boy. But you do sell Crucio.”

“Felix,” Logan countered. “And yes.”

“Crucio. And no.”

Logan shrugged. “I need the money.”

“For what?”

Logan looked at him and, this time, his eyes were hard. Desperate. “For Finn.”

Saint froze. He opened his mouth, and then closed it. “Excuse me?”

“If I can get enough cash, I can get Finn,” Logan said.

Saint stared at him, and then Saint laughed. Then, he laughed louder.

“You’re shitting me,” Saint said. “You think that?”

“What do you…”

“You think you can buy Finn out?” Saint repeated incredulously. “You think you can walk back in there and buy Finn out.”

Logan took a breath. “He—”

“Logan, Jesus Christ,” Saint snapped. “You walk anywhere near that place and you are never getting back out.” Saint pressed a hand to Logan’s shoulder and shook him. “Do you hear me?”

“I need to do something,” Logan shouted back. “I need to do something, I can’t just leave him in there, he’s everything to me.”

Saint shook his head. “He got you out. Don’t waste that.”

Logan nodded, eyes bright with tears now. “And you know he got punished for it. You know he did—”

“Stop,” Saint spat, glancing around, as if anyone could hear. “Don’t.”

“You could help me,” Logan said, wiping his nose. “Bash, you got out once—”

“No,” Saint said, and turned away. “No. And don’t call me that. Don’t you ever call me that.”

“Please,” Logan begged. “Please—Saint.”

Saint whirled on him again. “I am never going near there, and neither are you. Finn’s still in there, fine. But he’ll need to get himself free like us if he wants it bad enough.”

“I owe money,” Logan began, then his breathing hitched. “I owe them, I took some of it to see—to see Finn and…Bash—Saint—”

“Them?” Saint took a step forward. “Them?”

Logan pressed a hand over his eyes, but Saint walked forward and pulled it away.

“Logan,” he said lowly. “Tell me you didn’t.”

Logan closed his eyes, mouth twisting against his tears.

“Tell me, right now, that you didn’t let the Carrows tell you they’d help you. And that you didn’t believe them.”

Logan shook his head, not in negation, but in defeat. “I need him. I need him, I’m so…I’m alone.”

Saint pulled Logan against his chest and let him cry. The sobs heaved out of him for a long while, until the collar of Saint’s shirt was wet. Until Logan was breathing softly again, exhausted, and until his voice sounded shot when he spoke.

“You’re really staying with Leo?” Saint asked, more gently this time.

Logan nodded.

“I have a place, too. Here, in The Hollow. If you want.”

“With the others?” Logan rasped.

“What others?”

“How many others are out?” Logan said softly.

Saint shook his head, fingers in Logan’s hair. “Just me, that I know of.”

“You still wear it,” Logan said, pulling back to look at him. “The cross.”

Saint let his hands drop with a last touch to Logan’s hot cheek. “So do you.”

They were both silent.

“I’m sorry about Finn,” Saint said rigidly. “I know how much he meant to you.”

Logan’s brows pulled together. “He’s not dead.”

Saint nodded. “Right.”

“Saint…” Logan began, and Saint heard the almost B instead. “Would you—just thinking about it—“

“No,” Saint said, and then turned and went back inside.

Sirius, back at the table, looked at his face, and then at his wet shirt.

“Okay?” he asked softly when Saint sat down.

“Just dandy,” Saint replied, and looked towards the door. Logan was gone.

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

my tears ricochet

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

[warnings: death, and funeral]

word count: 4829

[a/n: sorry for such a long wait. I've been busy. I thought once I was done for the semester I would have a lot more time to work on my stories, but if anything my summer break has been more hectic. Just because I haven't been posting, doesn't mean I haven't been working on them. Just know that I am working on the new chapters for this and for TKWBA, just need a bit of patience from you all. Also thank-you for the continue love and support on all my work]

Series Masterlist

Tag list info here [if you want to be tagged please read this]

Age: 21

Year: Sep. 2015

Location: Brooklyn, NY & Stanford, CA

Elizabeth was sat at her desk doing her homework. She was anxiously waiting for Steve's call about the baby arriving. He had called her two hours prior to let her know that Natasha had gone into labor, and they were at the hospital. Steve told her that he'd call her as soon as he heard the news. She tried her hardest to focus on her homework, but she found herself constantly checking her phone for any updates.

Suddenly her phone started going off. She instantly picked it up and answered the call.

"Is the baby here?" She immediately asked.

"Liz," Steve choked out.

"Steve, what's wrong?" She could hear the distress in his voice.

"Natasha, she," he tried to say but the words got caught in his throat, and she could hear the soft cries.

"Steve, breathe," she tries to calm him down the best she could without actually physically being with him.

Elizabeth was simultaneously trying to keep herself calm, and not rush into any assumptions.

"She died," he said after calming himself down enough to tell her what happened.

"She died?"

"I guess there were complications, he tells her, still unsure of what exactly happened.

Steve hadn't thought to ask further into what exactly happened when Bucky's mom called to tell him the devastating news. He couldn't wrap his head around what she was telling him. He just never imagined that this would be the outcome of his best friend welcoming his first child into the world.

Steve clears his throat trying to force the lump back down.

"I'm catching the next flight out to New York," he tells Elizabeth, "I just gotta be there for Bucky."

"Yeah, of course," she says, completely understanding.

"I know you can't exactly fly out now, without letting your professors know, so as soon as I find out all the funeral," his throat catches at the word, he takes a small breath, "all the funeral information I'll let you know."

"Okay that works," she agrees.

"Okay. I haven't to pack real quick and get to the airport within the next hour," he tells her.

"Okay, I'll let you go."

"Wait, Steve," she calls out before he could hang up.

"Yeah?"

"I love you," she says with a shaky voice.

"I love you too, so much," he says, "I'll text you when I board the plane."

After one final goodbye, Steve hangs up the phone.

The flight seemed like Steve's longest one he's ever been on. As soon as he landed he quickly grabbed his carry on, the only thing aside from his backpack that he brought with him. Elizabeth had messaged him letting him know that she could bring more of his stuff once she flies out.

Steve made his way out of the airport to find his mom waiting for him by her car. He quickly made his way towards her and wrapping his arms around her.

On the drive to Bucky's apartment Steve sent Liz a text letting her know he landed. He then called Bucky's mom to let her know he was on the way.

"Thank-you for coming out Steve," Winnie thanks him, "The baby is just about to get discharged, we should be at the apartment before you get there."

"Of course, I'll see you guys soon," he says hanging up the phone.

Steve then sends a quick email to his boss and professors explains his absence and why he'll most likely be gone for a couple of weeks.

An hour later Steve's mom was stopping outside of Bucky's building.

"Let them know I'm here if they need anything," his mom tells him before he exists the car, "I'll come back at noon with lunch for everyone."

"Thanks Mom," he says leaning over to kiss her cheek.

Steve exists the car leaving his bags with his mom. He takes one final breath before walking to the front doors. Steve presses the call button for Bucky's apartment and was immediately buzzed in.

As soon as he reaches Bucky's door, he knocks quietly. The door opens and he's welcomed by Rebecca. He takes in the sullen face on the teenage girl.

"Hey Bec," he says.

"Hi," she quietly says, as they hug each other in the door way.

When they pull apart she steps aside letting him inside.

"It's just my parents and I here. Bucky didn't want to deal with a lot of people right now," she explains to Steve.

"Steve," he hears from his left, Keith, Bucky's stepdad makes his way out of the small kitchenette over to him, and embracing him, "Thank-you so much for coming. We know you're a very busy person."

Before Steve could respond Bucky's mom Winnie walks into the living room.

"Oh Steve," she immediately wraps her arms around him.

"Thank-you so much for coming on such a short notice," she says. Steve could hear the shakiness in her voice. He could tell she was trying to keep it together. No doubt the last 12 hours being the most stressful and emotional she's ever been.

"There's no need to thank me. This is where I need to be," he tells them.

"Let us at least pay you back for the flight," Keith says.

"No, don't worry about that," Steve waves him off, "I had a lot of miles that needed to be used."

"Well, thank-you again," Keith nods his head, understanding where Steve was coming from.

"You can go on ahead Steve. Bucky is waiting for you in the nursery," Winnie tells him, giving him an assuring nod, he nods back making his way towards the nursery.

The short walk seemed like it was much longer. Steve has never felt so nervous in his life. When he approaches the closed door, he softly knocks on it.

"Come in," Bucky calls from inside.

Steve walks in, closing the door behind him. He's immediately greeted by Bucky sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, feeding his newborn daughter.

"Hey," Steve softly says, not sure what to say.

"Hey," Bucky greeted Steve with a sad smile.

It had been 12 hours later and it still didn't feel real to Bucky. The hospital had even offered the chance for him and Poppy to stay a couple of days, but all Bucky wanted to do was to go home and get away from the hospital. But now being back in the apartment without Natasha was surreal. He was trying his best to keep it all in, at least while the baby is awake and needs him.

He was determined in being the one that cared for her, even when his mom offered to take care of her for a few hours while he gets some rest. He assured her that he needed to do this. He had to do it alone, because he knew that soon enough it would just be him and Poppy.

Bucky was very grateful when he heard Steve was flying out. He felt like Steve was the only one he could really talk to about everything going on.

Steve was still standing by the door, just watching his best friend be a dad for the first time. He had no idea what to say in this kind of situation. The words were caught in his throat the moment he actually saw Bucky.

"Thanks for coming," Bucky says breaking the silence. Steve immediately looks away from the baby to meet Bucky's eyes.

"You would've done the same thing," Steve says, "And like I've said before, I'll always be here for you."

"I don't care how far, I'll always be on that first flight to you," Steve continues, he glances down at the now sleepy baby, "You're my brother Buck."

There was a moment of silence between the young men. Both understanding what the other one means with such few words.

Steve watched as Bucky gently placed the sleepy baby on his shoulder to burp her.

"It suits you," Steve quietly remarks.

"What?" Bucky looked up at him confused.

"Fatherhood, it suits you," Steve says again, stepping closer to his friend.

"You think?" Bucky looks back down at the now sleeping baby.

"Yeah. I know it's only been less than a day, but you look natural. Make it look easy."

"Thanks," Bucky smiled, getting up for the he chair and walking over to the crib to gently place Poppy in.

Steve walked over, standing next to Bucky, watching the little one sleep peacefully.

"What's her name?" Steve whispered, realizing that he hadn't found out what the name of the baby was.

"Poppy James Barnes," Bucky proudly says.

"That's cute," Steve commented, he placed his right hand on Bucky's left shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

Bucky looked over at Steve and they both nodded their heads in agreement, before falling into an embrace.

"I am so sorry," Steve quietly says.

"It happened so quick, she barely even got to see the baby," Bucky quietly cried into Steve's shoulder, "I never even thought of this would be the outcome. I never imagined I'd be coming home solo with the baby."

Steve tightened his embrace on Bucky, just listening to his friend.

"I don't know how I'm going to do this Steve. I don't know how I'm going to raise her without her mom. I'm trying to keep it together to not worry my mom, but fuck Steve, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm scared I'll screw this all up. I'm scared I'll screw her up.

"I'm so scared Steve," Bucky cries.

"It's okay to be scared," Steve tries his best to comfort Bucky, "I'd be more concerned if you weren't scared. This is entirely new territory for you. You're raising a child, a child who unfortunately no longer has her mother. That alone is a fucking terrifying thing to go through.

"It's not going to be easy. There's no point in lying to you, and saying it will. You and I both that won't be the truth. But if there's anyone I know who could do this, it's you Buck. You're the strongest person I know. Whatever has happened before this doesn't matter. The only thing that matters now is that little girl. And I know damn well you're going to give her the best life she will ever have," Steve pulls away from Bucky and holds onto his shoulders.

"And you're not alone in this. You have a lot of people who care about you, and now Poppy. You will never be alone. You'll always have someone to call, someone to help you. You're crazy to think we would ever leave you to do this alone. We're here, and we're not going anywhere. You and Poppy will never have to be alone. She might not have her mom, but she's got you, and I know damn well you won't ever let her wonder what being without one parent truly feels like.

"You've got this Buck," Steve assures him, "And we're here every step of the way."

"Thanks Steve," Bucky sniffles, wiping the tears away.

"No need to thank me," Steve smiles, "Now why don't you go take a nap. Get some rest. We're here if Poppy wakes up."

"Yeah I could use some sleep," Bucky yawns, his adrenaline from the last 12 hours fading away.

Steve walks Bucky to his bedroom and watches as he gets into his bed, and quickly falls asleep. He quietly closes the door behind him, with the baby monitor in one hand checking to make sure Poppy is still asleep.

He walks back into the living room, placing the monitor by the tv for everyone to see and hear.

"They're both asleep," Steve announces to the room.

"Oh thank goodness," Winnie sighs, "James hasn't taken a moment to rest since everything happened."

"Knowing Bucky, we'll probably have to be forcing him to rest for the next couple of weeks," Steve says.

"I just got off of the phone with Natasha's father," Keith said walking back inside the apartment.

"What did he say?" Winnie asked.

"He said that the funeral is all up to us," Keith sighs, "Something about how Natasha made her own path with getting pregnant, and that once she left she was no longer his responsibility."

"He really said that?" Winnie asked mortified.

"I'm afraid so," Keith sighed, "I tried reasoning with him saying we would handle everything financially and he can come to the funeral but he said no."

"What kind of father doesn't show up to his own daughter's funeral," Winnie shakes her head in complete disbelief.

"Explains why Natasha was the way she was," Rebecca whispered, so that only Steve could hear her.

He reluctantly agrees.

Two weeks later

Elizabeth was helping Steve with his tie in his childhood bedroom. She had flown in yesterday for today's funeral services. Elizabeth had gotten in late last night, so she still hasn't seen Bucky or Poppy yet. She was a let to get a week off of work and her professors gave her an extension on her assignments when she explained to them what happened.

"I still can't believe Natasha's dad isn't going," she says as she straightens out Steve's tie.

"Bucky's mom is still holding out hope that he shows up," Steve says.

"What does Bucky think of it all?" Elizabeth asks.

"He's not worrying about it," Steve explains, looking over himself in the mirror, "His only concern right now is Poppy and only Poppy. If Nat's dad shows up then he does. But as of now Bucky has made the decision that he will not be in Poppy's life. Not until he proves himself."

"That's very mature," she says grabbing her purse.

"This Buck is like a whole new one you've never seen before. Fatherhood has made him a thousand times more grown up these last couple of weeks."

"That's good."

"Ready to go?" Steve asked her, grabbing the keys to his mom's car.

"Yup," Elizabeth says following Steve out.

Bucky had asked Steve to pick him and Poppy up, and Steve had of course agreed.

They arrived to Bucky's apartment in fifteen minutes. Walking up to Bucky's door they could hear a lot of commotion coming from inside. Steve used the key Bucky gave him to let himself and Elizabeth in.

As soon as they walked in they were greeted by the sounds of a baby crying.

"Buck?" Steve called out.

"We're in here," he calls from the nursery.

They go to the nursery to find Bucky looking frazzled while trying to change Poppy's diaper.

"I'm so sorry. I'm running so behind," Bucky tells them, glancing over his shoulder quickly,

"Poppy didn't sleep well last night. And nothing I've tried has been working."

"It's okay Buck, just take your time," Steve calmly says.

"I still need to shower, shave, and get dressed," Bucky rambles, "She's going to need another change of clothes because she spat all over herself, and my mom only bought this one outfit for today."

"Hey Bucky, calm down," Elizabeth calmly spoke up, placing her hand on his back, "Take a breath."

Bucky felt the warmth and comfort from Liz's touch. He listens to what she says and takes a deep breath.

"Okay good," she says, "now you go get ready. Steve and I got this."

"Okay," he nods his head, handing the baby over to Elizabeth, "thank-you."

"Of course," she softly smiles at him, "now go get ready."

Bucky quickly makes his way out of the room and into his own to get ready.

Elizabeth looks down at the small baby in her arms. She could see so much of Bucky in the baby with hints of Natasha. It was a little strange for her to be holding Bucky's baby and it not being her baby as well. Not that she ever wanted to get back together with Bucky, because she didn't. There was just a little voice in her head, that of her teenage self, saying how it was supposed to be them, doing this together.

She quickly shut the voice down.

Elizabeth was incredibly sympathetic of Bucky's situation. All she wanted to do was be there for him, as a friend. She wanted Bucky to succeed as a father, and she would do what she could to make that happen.

Steve silently watched Elizabeth watching Poppy. He couldn't really read her expression. He hates to admit it to himself, especially with everything going on, but he was slightly worried about how Liz would react to all of this. He had faith in their relationship, of course he trusted her immensely. But he still couldn't help but feel like she might decide to leave him for Bucky. Elizabeth turned around to see Steve looking at her with a distant look in his eyes.

"You good?" She gently asked, breaking him from his self-destructive thoughts.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah," she nods her head, handing the baby over to him, "I'm going to try and find her a new outfit.

"Okay," Steve says sitting down with the baby.

"I love you," Liz quietly says to Steve, knowing what could possibly going through his mind, if hers was also wandering.

"I love you," Steve replies back, finding himself relaxing at just hearing those three words, any doubt slipping away.

30 minutes later Bucky was ready to go. He walked out to the living room where he found Steve and Elizabeth sitting with each other holding the baby. He paused for a moment taking in the scene in front of him. He felt a sense of warmth and low flow through him as his closest friends admire his daughter. In that moment he knew he had made the right decision in what he would tell them next.

Steve glanced up to see Bucky leaning against the frame of the hallway.

"Ready?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, but I actually wanted to ask you two something before we go," Bucky says walking over and sitting on a chair next to the couch.

"Sure, what's up?" Steve leans forward, leaning on his knees, giving Bucky his full attention.

Elizabeth tears her eyes away from Poppy to also give Bucky her full attention. She smiles at him, letting him know he could continue on.

"I first and foremost just want to thank you Steve, for what probably is the hundredth time," Bucky says, "I know you have a lot going on with work and school. So I really appreciate everything you've done for me and for Poppy. And you too Elizabeth, I know you're incredibly busy especially with law school prep. And with everything that's happened between-"

"Don't," she stopped him, "What's past is past."

"Well anyways, thank-you," Bucky says, "Now here comes what I wanted to ask you two. There's no other two people I wouldn't trust more with Poppy. So I wanted to ask if you would be her godparents?"

"Really?" Elizabeth asked taken back by Bucky's request.

"Yes," he nods his head, "There's no one else I wouldn't trust with her if anything happens. It'll help me sleep better knowing she'll have two people who'll love her like I would. Two people who have so much love between them, that I know will always be together."

Both Steve and Elizabeth were taken back by Bucky's last statement. They knew Bucky had accepted their relationship, but to actually have him not only say it out loud but to practically give them his blessing, it meant the world to the couple.

Steve and Elizabeth both share a look with tears glistening in their eyes. Elizabeth nods her head.

Steve turns back to Bucky, "We'd be honored to be Poppy's godparents."

Elizabeth and Steve stood up to hug Bucky. All filled with a wide range of emotions. Bucky felt a huge sense of comfort after asking Liz and Steve to be Poppy's godparents. He knew he made the right decision, and he knew he could now sleep better at night knowing his daughter would be taken care of. And by two people he knows can love her the way he does.

After what happened with Natasha, Bucky just wanted to make sure Poppy would be taken care of. If she couldn't have her parents, then she would have the closest thing to having parents. And Bucky knows Steve and Elizabeth would be amazing parents.

That alone allowed him to be at peace for whatever may happen.

Arriving to the funeral location Bucky felt his nerves start to spike. He sat in the backseat looking out the window at the familiar faces walking into the chapel.

"You okay?" Elizabeth asked turning in her seat, after Steve parked the car.

"I don't know if I can do this," he mutters, glancing towards the sleeping baby in the car seat next to him.

"We'll be right next to you along the entire way," Liz calmly says.

"If you feel too overwhelmed we'll leave whenever you want," Steve tells him, "We won't stay if you absolutely can't handle it. No one will hold it against you."

"Okay," Bucky takes a deep breath.

"Stay here, I'll get the stroller out," Steve says, getting out of the car.

"No one is expecting you to be brave, Buck," Elizabeth says, "You're allowed to be vulnerable. You're allowed to show emotions."

He nods his head, taking in what she's telling him.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small necklace. Clutching onto it as if his life depended on it.

Elizabeth catches the small 'N' on it, realizing that that was the necklace Natasha wore everyday since she was 13.

Bucky takes one final deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

"Okay, I'm ready," he tells her.

"Okay, let's do this."

Bucky was grateful that they arrived only minutes before the service started. Everyone was already seated in the pews.

He slowly walked down the aisle pushing the stroller, Steve and Elizabeth walking right behind him.

Bucky tried his best to avoid any eye contact with everyone. He couldn't bare to look at the pity in their eyes.

He caught sight of his family siting in the second row. He also noticed a man sitting alone in the first row.

He instantly knew who it was.

Once Bucky reached the first row, the man made to movement to greet Bucky.

Bucky cleared his throat, "Mr. Romanoff."

The older man looked over at Bucky, then at the stroller.

"James," he stiffly said, turning his attention back to the front.

Bucky awkwardly sat down placing the stroller next to his legs, away from Natasha's father, while Steve and Elizabeth sat next to Bucky.

The service was going smoothly up until the priest announced that Natasha's father would be making a speech, catching everyone off guard.

Bucky looked at the older man as he walked up to the stand. He turned around to face his mom, "Did you know this?" he whispered.

"No I didn't," she shook her head.

Right as Mr. Romanoff was about to start speaking, Poppy began to cry. Bucky quickly went to get her out of the stroller, while Steve quickly went to grab a bottle to help him out.

As soon as the baby calmed down Mr. Romanoff began to speak.

"First and foremost, I want to thank everyone for coming," he begins, "I really appreciate it. Natasha would be eternally grateful for all of you."

Bucky started to get annoyed by the beginning of Mr. Romanoff's speech. As if the man didn't turn down the invitation for the last two weeks. Now he's trying to act like the perfect father, as if he didn't kick her out and cut off his pregnant daughter.

"Natasha was a kind hearted person. Only wanting the best for those closest to her. She was the most selfless person you would have ever met," he continued on with his speech.

Elizabeth couldn't help but be confused by Mr. Romanoff's speech. She hated thinking ill of the dead, but that man had no idea who his daughter truly was.

"Natasha was so smart, earning her way into Yale. She was only months away from graduating. I was so incredibly proud of her. If only we would've gotten the opportunity to watch her walk across the stage.

"Other than leaving an everlasting impression on all of us, she also left behind a part of her. Her last moments on Earth was spent bringing in another Romanoff," he says.

Bucky's head snapped up to Mr. Romanoff, then towards Steve.

"Romanoff?" Bucky whispered, "This man has the fucking nerve."

"Ignore him," Steve whispered back, trying to calm Bucky down, "He's just saying all of this to make himself look good."

"Natasha brought her daughter into the world," Mr. Romanoff continued, forcing fake tears to fall, "I remember being by her side as she was in labor."

Bucky clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to call Mr. Romanoff out on his lies.

"As she was dying," Mr. Romanoff paused for dramatic effect, "Her only request was to name her daughter after her."

Steve paled his hand on Bucky's shoulder, trying his best to calm him down. It was too late, Bucky was already placing Poppy in Steve's arms.

"What a fucking lie," Bucky stood up shouting at Mr. Romanoff, causing everyone to gasp.

"James," Mr. Romanoff said through gritted teeth, as a warning.

"How could you just lie to all these people?" Bucky shouted, "How could you lie as if you didn't disown Natasha months prior when she told you she was pregnant. Or when my parents kept inviting you to the funeral, you kept saying no and how Natasha's decisions led to their death. How dare you say you were in the delivery room. As if you didn't have her number blocked.  My mom and I were there when things took a horrible turn. We were there when the doctor walked out and told us Natasha didn't make it. Not you! Us!

"Then you go on to make some shitty story about Nat's last words. Which is completely false. Natasha never wanted to name the baby after herself, you'd actually know that if you were actually present in her life. But you weren't. And you sure as hell will never be a part of your granddaughter's life."

Bucky turned to Steve and Liz, "Let's go."

They nodded their heads and helped put Poppy in the stroller. They followed Bucky as he walked out of the chapel.

After leaving the funeral services, Steve was able to calm Bucky down. Winnie had called Elizabeth to let her know that the burial services the next day were officially going to be private. Liz agreed that that'd be best for everyone involved. Especially with what happened during the funeral services.

The burial service was only attended by Bucky, and his family, along with Elizabeth and Steve.

Everything went along smoothly. Everyone giving Bucky the safe space to grieve.

After the burial, everyone gave Bucky a few moments alone at the grave site so he can say his final goodbyes.

"Hey Nat," he pauses taking a deep breath, "these last two weeks haven't been the easiest. But boy have they been amazing. I may be more exhausted than I've ever been, but boy is she worth it.

"She may only be two weeks but I can already tell she's going to be the most amazing person ever," he softly cries, "You would've loved her so much. But like I promised back at the hospital, she'll never not know who her mother was. I will always make sure she knows who you were. Always."

"Goodbye Natasha," he whispered, before walking away to join his family waiting.

Age: 26

Location: Brooklyn, NY

Year: 2020

"Daddy, what's this?" Poppy calls out to her father from his bedroom.

"What's what petal?" He asked walking into the room, finding her surrounded by boxes, as they prep for their move uptown.

"This," she holds up the small necklace with the 'N'.

Bucky kept that necklace in a small box in his nightstand. He kept it at the bottom of his nightstand for safe keepings. Planning on one day to give it to his daughter. He always planned to wait until she was 16, but he figures now is as good as ever.

"That was your mommy Natasha's," he said walking over to her, and sitting next to her on his bed, "She got it when she was 13, and wore it every day up until when she died."

"It's pretty," she says admiring it in her hands.

"It is isn't it," he smiles at his little girl, "It's now yours."

He grabs the necklace from her little hands. He unclasps it, then gently moves her dirty blonde hair to the side. He places the necklace around her neck, and clasps it shut.

"Thank-you daddy," she smiles brightly at her father, admiring the necklace that now lay on her chest.

Bucky smiled at his daughter, watching as she kept admiring the necklace. It was a little big on her, but he knew she would grow into it.

"Anything for you baby," he kisses the top of her head, "Anything."

[ceilingfan5]

I think you reblogged that post A While ago, but if you still want to do the physical affection prompts I would love taakitz and 2, 3, or 4 :)

2--interlocking pinkies 

“I knew I’d find you here.” Kravitz takes a seat on the swing next to Taako’s and tries not to look at him. He doesn’t like being witnessed when he’s sad. 

Taako doesn’t say much, just kind of drags his feet in the bark beneath his swing. Kravitz aches for him, wants to fix everything for him. Kravitz wants Taako’s life to be easier, even a little bit. But what can he even do? 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you they closed Burger Hut down.”

“Place was probably rat-infested, anyway,” Taako grumbles. 

“Take that back, those rats were good fucking cooks.” It’s a sad attempt at levity, but Kravitz knows Taako. He’s known Taako since they were toddlers, and Taako always wants an excuse to laugh. He knows he’s aching right now, too. Taako hates change. That’s kind of why Kravitz didn’t tell him. He didn’t want him to avoid coming home from college because their old hangout spot was leveled. They hardly see each other now, and every little moment is precious. 

It’s hard being in love with your childhood friend even when he doesn’t live 300 miles away. 

“You’re right, I trained under those rats. They made a mean Suspicious Borger Sauce.” Taako doesn’t laugh, but the mood gets a little lighter. Kravitz is on the right track. 

“We can find a new spot to hang out. Plus, there’s always our other spots. I mean, you’re always welcome at my house, and there’s the library...”

“I know, but...” Taako sighs. He pushes himself back a little and the swing takes him minutely back and forth. He keeps dragging deep ruts into the bark with his feet. “That was our spot for just us.” 

“Yeah?” Haha, uh, why is Kravitz’s heart pounding? 

“Yeah.”

Kravitz finally looks at him. Taako looks away. Kravitz’s heart pounds harder. Is...is Taako blushing? 

“It just feels like...all the good bits are going away. And...and...I don’t want to lose that shit.”

“I’m still here.” Kravitz’s voice is so soft he almost doesn’t hear it himself. 

“But things aren’t like they used to be!” Taako blurts, and he covers his mouth. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I used to be able to spend every day with you, and fucking, half the nights in your room, and we- we were always together, and it wasn’t a whole Thing, and- and now it feels like we’re both so different and far away, and I’m fucking- I’m scared I’m gonna lose you like everything else, and there will be no reason for me to come back at all-”

Is it raining? Kravitz’s face is wet. 

“Hey,” he says. His throat hurts. He doesn’t know what to say, how to get it out. “You’ll...you’ll always have me.”

“What if I don’t? I’ll be alone! You know I can’t fucking handle being alone, not after-” 

“I know.” Kravitz swallows. “I know you better than anybody. And you know me. You know, Taako, you know I’d never leave you.”

“Your mom told me you were dating.” 

The hurt in his voice nearly levels Kravitz like the Burger Hut. 

“Well.” He swallows again, around this fucking rock in his throat. “Did she tell you how badly it was going?” 

“No. But I’ll bet they all love you. You’re too hot to be single.” 

“My ex said he couldn’t love me because I was in love with somebody else.” 

“Oh, so you’ve got two fucking boyfriends?” 

“No.” Kravitz takes a deep breath, and he reaches over and takes Taako’s pinkie in his, heart pounding. Their arms dangle between the swings. “A long, long time ago, I buried my heart in a box with every secret I had.” 

Taako looks up. There’s no way he wouldn’t remember the month they spent building their time capsule, or the private little ceremony in the rain, or the trouble they got in for digging in Raven’s garden. There’s no way Taako wouldn’t understand the seriousness of what Kravitz is admitting, when he knew what else went in that box and never saw the sun again. 

“Are you saying-” 

“You know it’s the truth.” He squeezes Taako’s pinkie with his own. 

“Are you-” Taako is reeling, and he plants his feet on the ground to steady his swing. “You- you- and you have since then?” 

“My whole life,” Kravitz whispers. 

Taako squeezes his pinkie and takes a deep breath. 

“Me too,” he says.

Kravitz nearly perishes right there. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

“Man, we’re fucking stupid, huh?”

“Yeah.” And they laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and if they kiss in the park with the fervor of two idiots who’ve been waiting their entire lives to do it, that’s their fucking business.      

[sicpvon]

I put some bits from my writing into Inferkit and here are the results!

:)

I walk closer to the fire before nodding, because to be truthful I am lost, just maybe not in the way he's referring to. Also because I'm scared he’ll shoo me away if I say I am not, and this is the only source of warmth for miles as far as I can tell. 

I'm freezing, and almost broke, and in this much solitude I'm beginning to understand what true loneliness is.

He's not some cat that lives under your feet, he's actually been on my mind. I've been thinking about him a lot and wondering how he's been. This girl with the gloves, I remember her name, but I can't remember his. Not that he is that memorable, there's nobody named Tim here, except that he's been in my mind a lot, I just don't know how to get his attention.

And I say to the fire,

;3

I was found in a basket, with nothing but my hat and my harmonica. What had happened? Joxter didn’t know he had a kid until recently. Mymble barely remembers me at all, let alone what had happened to me. Neither know me that well beyond what I let them know. I want them around, but I don’t know how to treat them like parents I suppose.

It was also discovered I’m slightly prodigy musically speaking. I can imitate Joxter’s drums and even Joxter himself when he holds a guitar.

So at some point they decided a new pair of names was necessary for me. Mine being Bludimus the Bolt. It translates to Immortal Fire of the Free-Lance Thunder god-ship. Mymble insisted on Bludimus, but as more kids have started calling me Bolt, she’s got more claim on it now. All around, it’s not a bad name I suppose.

Honestly…naming kids is really hard.

It wasn’t as cold when the sun finally showed themself. Whatever creature that had showed up at my camp last night has run off sometime after I fell back asleep. That was a shame but at least I didn't have to make extra coffee.

Too soon it was seven AM and only one bird called back and forth, soothing me for a minute with its song. However, once I’d decided the world hadn’t devolved into a potato death camp I lay there waiting for another thirty minutes in the blazing sun for them to stop laughing at me.

The sun showed itself just after eight, heating up the desert near the truck so that I had no choice but to turn on the engine. There was some wheeling and scurrying around and taking stock of the entire situation.

But when I looked over my breath caught. Moomintroll had this deep look in his eyes that captivated me entirely. With just one look it was like the world was imploding and expanding all at once. My body felt warm all over and I didn't want anything in the world but Moomintroll to keep looking at me like that. With love. Such a deep and unyielding love.

"Tell me more about the bandits, Sneeze, quickly!" said Moomintroll. "There isn't time to explain but I can show you what will happen if you don't make that delivery soon."

"Okay!

Let me see!"

We spent some more of those last few precious hours together and told each other all about the part we had played in our respective countries. The questions that should be asked about someone and if a man runs with a question, you know that he finds you amusing. I shared my riches and wine with him and his mom came up and started to brag about her oldest. She had saved her fourth child's life with the medusa fragment. And I let out this laugh that nearly made both of us cry. It must have been an object that changed some deep underlying mechanisms inside him. I was glad, because if it was the reeds I would have abandoned the Skwah without hesitation. But I wouldn't abandon a child. It's just how things were.

"And my kingdom is the greatest country on Earth," said Moomintroll.

[pumpkinpiejack]

A couple days ago I sent this ask to @lobotomycastiel and actually ended up writing it. It’s mainly about Dean, Claire, and baby Jack dealing with some of the pain of losing Cas.

You can also read it on AO3.

Three days.

Three days, Dean had been in charge of Jack. Three days since they found him smoldering the blankets on Kelly’s bed, sheets stained with blood. Three days since Dean had picked him up and refused to put him down.

Three days since Dean put Cas’s body on that pyre and watched it burn to nothing but ash and dust.

It stains everything he touches, streaks against Jack's baby pale skin, fingerprints on Sam’s clothes. The taste coating the back of his tongue. He can't escape it, can't drive fast enough to get rid of it. It lingers in the air around him and mocks him for his loss, but he still can’t seem to bring himself to wash it off.

Jack hasn't stopped crying since they lit the pyre. Dean prepared the body himself. He owed this to Cas after everything, to prepare his body right, to make sure his hands were gentle. He carried him out to the pyre too, a baby strapped to his chest, unnaturally quiet in the fading light of the sun.

Dean hadn't been able to finish it. His entire body stood curled around Jack, his face buried in the baby's soft hair as his hands shook so hard he couldn't light the match. He couldn't pour the salt, he couldn't hold the gas can.

His skin felt too tight for his body, like something was trying to escape, an animal in his chest scratching and clawing at the inside of his ribs and everything hurt.

Jack cries and he cries and he cries and Dean is thrown back into every shitty night on the road with Sam as a baby and he can't breathe. He remembers waking up at night to the same sound and curling up in a playpen that was far too small for both him and Sam. He wanted to make it better. He wanted to be able to help and make the crying stop.

But, the only time Jack stops is when Dean holds him and only when it's in a specific way. His tiny cheek needs to be pressed into Dean’s shoulder, just over Cas’s handprint and doesn't that just fucking hurt.

It aches in a whole new way, like he somehow senses Cas there.

The handprint itself has faded over the years. All the times he’s been healed and rebuilt from the inside out, and it is the only thing that remains. A discolored and slightly raised patch of skin that means more to him than any physical object on earth (besides his baby of course).

Three days. Two days to drive home and one day to prepare himself.

Sam made the call. Dean couldn't get Jack to stop crying long enough to do it himself, not without risking waking him up. Even with a day to prepare himself, it still wasn't nearly enough.

When Claire walks in it's like the floor falls out from underneath Dean’s feet. She’s a mess. Her eyes rimmed red, mascara and eyeliner streaking down her face and she looks like she drove straight through the night. Her hands shake, just like his as he hands Jack to Sam.

He holds him awkwardly, his hands too big, too unaccustomed to holding something so fragile. Dean could count the number of times Sam had held Jack on one hand. He couldn't be away from Dean for long or he would start crying, shrill shrieks that shake the very ground they stood on. Cries that cause the glass to rattle in its pane and nearly makes Dean’s ears bleed on more than one occasion.

“You look like a mess.”

“Says you.”

Touché. Dean hasn't slept either, hasn't showered, hasn't eaten. He drove 1,700 miles in two days, a crying baby strapped into his backseat the entire way. He knows he looks like shit. He still has ash smeared across his face, he can't seem to bring himself to wipe it away.

He can't bring himself to be far from Jack, can't stand him crying. He can't look at Jack, his eyes repeatedly drawn to the blue that is so familiar and so foreign all at once. He can't light a match. He can't think about his mom. He can't admit Cas is….

There's a lot he can't do right now.

Claire’s voice is quiet. It’s calm in all the ways that Dean knows that she isn't. He can see the rage boiling under the surface. The sadness, the grief all tangled into a little ball, locked away so deep inside of her that the only place it was visible was her eyes.

She tries to stay strong, but she still looks around as if she’s missing something, because the truth is, she is. She looks around the room searching for the same figure that he does every time he enters a room and they’ll never find it. Not now and never again.

He turns to tell Cas a joke, and he’s not there. He’ll see a blurry image of tan and black out of the corner of his eye and reach out with Jack, a mumbled thank god under his breath, but there’s never anyone there.

He’s just alone as she is, even with three other people in the room.

And then the dam breaks.

“How could you?” Dean keeps looking at her. He owes her that. He looks her in the eye and listens, because he owes her that. He watches as they fill with tears and, god, hers are the same as Jack’s. So similar but not quite right. Almost everything he could ever want and his chest burns.

Cas never cried, even when he was dying on the floor of that barn, black ooze streaming out of his mouth, skin rotting and flaking up the side of his neck, he didn't cry. He just looked at Dean with those blue eyes and told him he loved him, that he loved all of them.

They never got to talk about it.

“You were supposed to keep him safe!” Her voice breaks as she launches herself at him, her fists smacking against his chest, but he can't really feel it. Over and over and over she drives the side of her fist into his chest. Like a little kid throwing a tantrum. He makes no move to stop her, to grab her hands and still them. He just lets her. I owe her this, I deserve this. “You promised me you would keep him safe,” and all at once her anger is gone, washed away with her tears as she leans her head against his chest and she sobs. “How could you?”

Finally, Dean moves. He places a hand on the back of her head, careful of any indication that she didn't want to be touched, but she just leans in farther, collapses into his chest and sobs harder.

She’s so small, so young despite her fiery disposition, he could tuck her perfectly under his chin. Dean remembers feeling on top of the world at her age. Twenty years old and suddenly he could rule the world, tear it all down from the ground up and rebuild it in his own image if he wanted. But here she is, a perfect mirror of him and all he sees is a scared little kid.

He can hear Jack crying in the background, having reached his limit of being away from Dean.

Eventually, she pulls away, shoving him and turning to where Sam is holding Jack uncomfortably. Claire smears her makeup farther down her face. There is still anger in her eyes and part of it scares him. It was the same anger he had held the first time he laid eyes on Jack.

Part of him wanted to leave him there. Part of him wanted to do what he originally planned when he walked into that house gun in hand, but he knows he never would. Jack wasn't a monster. He wasn't anything more than a baby. He cried and screamed and had the tiniest hands and the bluest eyes and even just looking at him made Dean’s heart soften.

Something like that couldn't be a monster anymore than Sam could, or little Bobby John.

So, instead, he scooped Jack up, the baby's skin burning his own, a tiny handprint searing itself onto the skin of his left forearm.

“He looks like Cas.” Claire laughs, but it sounds more like a sob than anything. Jack seems to quiet as she draws closer, his blue eyes widening as he takes her in. He’s so small in Sam's arms, blinking and whimpering as his crying petered down to nothing.

“Yeah he does.” Dean’s voice is rough as he reaches out to take Jack from Sam’s arms.

Sam is looking at the two of them, his eyes flickering between them as if it was a tennis match, a furrow between his brows. He is probably just as confused as Dean is.

Jack doesn't just stop crying. He either cries so much that he passes out or Dean spends hours with him pressed against the last fading remnants of the handprint, humming and rocking him. To see him just fade off while still awake was damn near a miracle.

Claire collapses in one of the chairs around the radar and holds out her arms expectantly.

“Come on, then.” Dean lets out a huff of laughter, or something as close to it as he's gotten since everything. He moves closer with Jack in his arms and slides him into Claire’s. Jack coos and waves his hands around. It's the uncontrolled movements of a newborn, more of a muscle spasm than anything, and Claire snorts out another little laugh as he accidentally smacks her collarbone.

“He’s so calm.” Sam's voice is awed.

Dean is right there with him, Jack isn't crying, he isn't uncomfortable. For the first time, he seems almost happy. He curls closer to her and lets out the tiniest yawn, his eyes crunching closed. Claire looks mesmerized. She gives Jack her fingers and he wraps his whole hand around them.

“I'm staying.” Claire says suddenly, eyes still locked with Jack’s. She can't seem to look away and neither can he.

“Okay.” And it’s as simple as that.

-

Three days. 84 hours, with no more sleep than a cat nap here and there and yet he still couldn’t seem to fall asleep. Every time he tries, he manages to get five steps away from Jack’s bassinet before he starts to scream and he couldn't exactly sleep with the baby on him, not when he could wake up from a nightmare fighting.

So he wanders the bunker. Up and down through the levels, crisscrossing through the hallways. Jack is tucked up against his shoulder like always. The thumb of the handprint brushes against his cheek in the mockery of a caress. He’s whimpering slightly, but at the very least he hasn’t completely started crying yet.

Dean reaches the kitchen only to find it already occupied. Claire is perched on the counter, a beer in one hand and the other wiping away another round of tears. Dean debates leaving her there, but finds that he can’t.

He’s been there more than a handful of times and during each one he was constantly torn between wanting to be left the fuck alone and wanting someone to notice. He wanted someone to realize that he wasn’t doing okay, to sit there with him as he broke apart. He never wanted to talk, didn’t want to cry in front of them, but realizing that someone cared enough to notice his downward spiral always seemed to help in its own fucked up way.

So, Dean pulls the bottle from her loose fingertips and puts on a pot of coffee. Claire makes grabby-hands at him until he relents, handing over Jack who just coos and twines his hands into her leather jacket. Well, Dean’s leather jacket. The same one she had snagged from his closet not too long ago, as if he wouldn’t notice. Jack immediately falls more silent than he’s been all day, his eyes sliding shut with another yawn that is far too big for his tiny body.

She’s so good with him already, her hands gentle as they shush him.

Claire thinks her hands are made for violence, for torture, for killing, for hunting. She thinks that’s all they’ll ever really be good for. She’s a predator, a soldier, made for a war that she didn’t know existed until it ruined her life. But those hands are also for protecting, for comforting, for saving.

She is good, at her core. Gentle and loving and all of Dean and Cas and Sam and Jody and Donna’s good traits all mixed into one girl who stands before him. A better person than he’ll ever be.

She’s stolen his bad traits too, the same way she stole that jacket. Put it on as a layer of protection against the world. It’s too big for her, doesn’t fit quite right, because it’s not hers and it’s not Dean’s either. It was too big for Dean too when he first put it on 20 years ago and he doesn’t know if he ever actually grew into it, or just thinks he did.

Together, they sit, shoulder to shoulder and don't say anything and that’s enough for the both of them. They drink their coffee until they can blame their shaking hands on that and listen to Jack’s even breathing.

Dean doesn’t move, even as Claire rests her head against his shoulder, the same shoulder Jack does, and he feels the tears soak in.

Four days. 96 hours and Jack finally manages to fall asleep without crying.

-

Nine days.

Nine days and he’s barely surviving. He can’t move, he can’t breathe, he can’t exist without something tearing at him from the inside out. But, he continues on anyway.

So many things he can’t do. So many contradictions that have slowly become his life.

Claire and him have a system. They work like a machine, two parts of the same person. They don’t look at each other, they can’t. Dean sees all the ways she looks like Cas, all the ways she looks like him, and she sees all the ways he’s failed her.

But they work together, anyway, for Jack.

And that scares him too.

It’s hard to see her with him and not see himself reflected back. He was a lot younger when he first had to learn how to change a diaper or make a bottle but she’s still too young to have that responsibility thrown onto her.

Claire takes to it like she takes to everything else: a fake grin that he can spot from a mile away and a sly joke.

She pours formula into the bottle and he gets his bath ready and at night they sit together on the counter and they watch over Jack. On the nights they manage to sleep he can hear her sneak into his room and pass out in the chair closest to Jack’s bassinet. Four hours later, he guides her into the bed and takes up her spot.

It never fails to make him feel like shit when she steals Jack’s from his hands. Makes him feel like John.

Dean doesn’t tell Sam this, but he somehow knows, the same way he always does.

Sam looks at him as he looks at Claire and marches up to him with a furrow in his brow and Dean knows that he’s not going to like whatever comes out of Sam’s mouth next.

“Can we talk?”

“No.” Sam gives him a harsh look and grabs his arm, dragging him out of the room anyway, down the hall and around the corner so their voices won’t travel.

“Sam, I said no.” Dean doesn’t even have the strength to pull his arm out of Sam’s grip, he’s just so tired.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care.” Sam leans against the wall across from him, his hands open by his side, his shoulders slouched. “Look at me, Dean, you need to let Claire help you.”

“I have.”

“No you haven’t.” Sam sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Dean really wants to take a pair of clippers to it. “She helps you, but you don’t let her.”

“Well, maybe it’s because it’s not her responsibility.” Dean crosses his arms, feet squared, even as he sways slightly.

“And it’s somehow yours? Dean, we were all friends with Cas.”

Were, were, were. Past tense, always past tense because Cas is gone. He’s not coming back, he’s ash and bone on a beach 20 hours away, and Dean took a shower but he can still somehow taste it on the back of his throat. His burns sting when he moves his hands. The handprint of his forearm reminds him of the one on his shoulder and he can’t breathe.

“Yes.” Dean chokes out. “Yes. He’s my responsibility and I’m not going to push that onto someone else just because I want to drink or sleep or go on a hunt.”

Dean watches as Sam’s entire face goes blank. He shuts down for a moment before coming back to life all at once, like a computer rebooting itself after it’s been overloaded.

“Dean.” It’s Sam’s turn to choke out the word. “Dean you're not dad.” Dean bolts upright and suddenly wants to punch something. He wants to scream and yell and feel the crunch of wood and bone under his feet.

He doesn’t even have the excuse of the Mark of Cain this time. Just his own shitty emotions getting the better of him.

“I’m not talking about this.”

“Yes we are.” Sam catches Dean's sleeve and Dean nearly socks him on principle. “Dean letting people help you isn't bad, that’s what new parents do. Claire isn’t four, she can choose whether she wants to help or not and right now she wants to help. So let her.”

Dean knows. He knows for as much as Claire acts like him, she isn’t him, but it’s hard to divorce the two ideas when he looks at her everyday and sees a mirror.

She’s been getting more frustrated over the week because Dean won’t let her help. She has to push her way through him in order to do anything useful. Dean can’t stop her from staying awake but he can make sure that he gets everything done before she does so she doesn’t have to.

Dean doesn’t want Claire to feel like she needs to help just because she can calm Jack down. She deserves to have her own life. To go out and hunt and have fun if she wants to and not have to take care of a newborn that is needier than most. But no matter what he does, she’s still right there next to him, trying to help in any way she can.

Dean rips his arm out of Sam’s grip and marches back to where Claire is holding a whimpering Jack. His eyes glow gold ever so often, but she just shushes him with a kiss on the forehead.

Claire already loves that kid. Loves him enough that she would put his life before hers. And you know what? Dean can’t even bring himself to blame her when he made the same choice at four.

Dean collapses into the chair next to her and reaches out to grab him.

“Do you want to go get his bottle ready while I try to keep him settled?” The smile she sends his way is worth more than anything.

-

“So I’ve been trying to find out why you two, in particular, calm Jack down so much.” Sam’s voice echoed through the bunker, breaking the suffocating silence they’ve been in for so long. He stares at the two perched in their usual spot on the counter, a single mug of coffee teetering between them, lipstick smears on one side.

They look like shit.

In sync they give him a raised eyebrow. Claire passes Jack over to Dean, the baby snuffling in his sleep, and snatches the coffee cup from his hand. She makes sure to twist it before taking a drink, lining up with the lipstick mark already there.

“Well back when that whole thing happened like four years back, we found out that angels leave a bit of grace behind.”

No.

“And that handprint was a direct tie from soul to grace.”

No.

“I think he’s reacting to Cas’s grace that remains inside of you. He obviously bonded with Cas before he was even born you remember the park as well as I do. It must calm him down, since Cas isn’t-”

Claire bolts up and Dean sees the coffee cup tip in slow motion, spilling down to the floor with a crash. She’s angry.

She’s so fucking angry it’s like looking in a mirror.

Dean can’t even blame her when she leaves. Walks right out of the kitchen and he can hear the front door slam echoing throughout the entire bunker. He’s just as mad. He wants to rage, he wants to throw the mug against the wall, he wants to scream because Cas left.

He left them with a kid and a piece of himself embedded underneath Dean’s skin that he can never get out. And he left.

He’s gone, turned to ash and dust on the wind and never coming back. No begging and pleading and praying will help them this time. It won’t get him back, it won’t get this piece of Cas under his skin out.

All he gets is the shitty consolation prize of a piece of his best friend's soul under his skin and the grief that keeps him on the teetering edge of insanity. All he gets is his family more broken than before and apparently a connection to a twenty year old who would sooner wish him dead than help her.

All he gets is flashes of something familiar out of the corner of his eye that disappears as soon as he turns and a lingering figure standing behind him in the mirror. Dean has stopped reacting to it. He’s stopped spinning wildly at the sight only to find no one there, he finds he can’t take the disappointment, the heartbreak.

But instead, he chases Claire out the front door, because honestly he can’t take another loss. Not right now.

Jack is still in his arms, working himself up into crying as Claire gets further away.

They catch up to her halfway down the road, her shoulders shaking with the force of holding back her sobs.

“Claire, stop.” Dean calls out and she stops walking but doesn’t turn. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” She nearly shouts it, somehow curling in on herself farther. “It’s not okay. It’s always something new and I can’t.”

“Claire-”

“Don’t look at me.” Claire begs and Dean gets it. He does want anyone to see him cry either so he turns around and presses his lips into Jack’s hair.

“I just-” Claire starts and stops like a car sputtering to life and he can hear her growing more frustrated with every breath. “I keep-” Finally she breaks and lunges forward. Dean thinks she’s going to start hitting him again, like the first day she showed up, but she just rests her forehead between his shoulder blades.

“I keep losing everything.” Claire starts. “I lost my dad for a year and then he comes back and I lose him again and this time it’s my fault.” Dean doesn’t interrupt but he wants to tell her it’s okay. That none of this is her fault. That it was his, and Sam’s, and Cas’s but not hers. Never hers. “My dad wanted to protect me so he let Cas in again and now he’s dead and my mom couldn’t even look at me. She blamed me, I could tell. If I had just said no- but, she left too and now she’s dead. And Randy is dead and now Cas is dead too and I keep losing.” She’s sobbing now, her arms tucked up between her chest and Dean’s back. He’s tempted to turn around, but she doesn’t seem to be done.

“Every time I have Jack it’s like suddenly I’m okay, like I’m whole again. I feel like he’s not actually gone, like I’ll turn around and he’ll be there, the stupid look on his face.” She presses closer, and gently knocks her head into his back over and over again. “And now I know it’s not even because of me, I’m not getting better. It’s just this piece of grace still in me that’s making me think that way and I can’t. I just ca-”

“I know.” Dean finally spins and tucks her under his chin. Jack is squished between them, his eyes glowing gold in the fading light of the sun. They’d have to get back inside soon or he’d get cold. But for now, he just holds the two of them close. She tucks herself impossibly closer, her hands gripping the back of his shirt like a lifeline. “Trust me I know. My dad made a deal to protect me and I still haven’t forgiven him to this day, even though I’ve done the same for Sammy more times than I’d like to admit.”

“That guilt never goes away.” He admits, and presses a kiss to the crown of her head. He wishes Charlie where here. She always seemed to know what to do. “You’ll never forget the people who have sacrificed themselves for you. You’ll love them and hate them and want them back and never want to see them again and it’ll always be confusing.”

“Are you trying to make me feel better.” She laughs and it’s one of the best sounds in the world. It makes the knot in Dean’s chest unclench just a fraction so he can laugh back.

“Yeah I am, because we’ll figure it out together. You have us now and if anyone knows about survivors guilt it me and Sam.” Claire let’s out another laugh and Dean presses another kiss to her head before pulling away. “Come on we have to get back inside before it gets too cold for him.” Claire nods and wipes away the majority of her tear tracks before making the same grabby hands she always does.

Dean slides Jack into her arms and pulls her in for another hug.

“Together?” He makes a sweeping gesture back to the bunker and she snorts.

“Together.”

[lilbabycee]

Need some more miles embarassing / outing his parents content that shit is too funny!

appreciative // steve rogers

↳ pairing: steve rogers x reader

READ ALL GOOD

this must be done:

you and steve’s son, miles, has a never-ending supply of energy and with that comes a never-ending supply of questions

you’re so proud because he is the smartest little baby you’ve ever met and his vocabulary and articulation is getting pretty advanced as he gets older

so you’re not surprised when you’re curled up on the couch in your living room, a book in your hand and blanket draped over your legs, and your son comes padding into the room

he parks himself in your lap and sticks his thumb in his mouth, sucking while he just blinks at you

his baby blues drill into your forehead as his long eyelashes brush against his skin

absent-mindedly, you tug at his wrist so that his thumb pops out of his mouth and sigh, closing your book and putting it on the coffee table after bookmarking your page 

the moment your book is out of your hands, miles grins, moving further into your body and lays his head on your chest, comforted by the softness of it that he can’t get from his father

“mama,” he starts, little fingers playing with the bracelet on your wrist. you note that he looks a little nervous but you want him to tell you himself

you rest your chin on the top of his head while you comb your fingers through his thick hair

“yes, baby.”

“you know how my- my birthday is tomorrow?”

“yes, i do know how your birthday is tomorrow. how old are you gonna be, miles? show me.”

he proudly holds up four fingers and you blow a raspberry into his cheek which makes him giggle

“that’s right, honey. you’re gonna be four, which means you’ll be a big boy-”

miles gives you a deadpan look and you stifle a laugh when he crosses his arms and tells you for the millionth time: “mama, i’m already a big boy.”

“mmhm,” you chuckle. “are you excited for your party?”

he nods but twists his lips to the side, raising his hand to stick his thumb back in his mouth but you stop him halfway

“what’s going on, bud?”

“i- i- i wanna- i wanna,” he huffs sweetly, stopping to think about what he wants to say before opening his mouth again, “i’m scared.”

this shocks you - your son is quite literally fearless. he isn’t scared of what most kids his age (and adults) are terrified of: the dark, clowns, monsters under his bed - he’s braved it all with no qualms at all

“what’re you so scared of, baby?” your mind goes to a thousand different terrifying scenarios and your voice immediately bleeds concern like an open wound. even miles can sense it - you can tell because he leans back and his eyes dart between yours as he places a comforting hand on your arm

(you almost laugh because who’s supposed to be the parent here?)

“s’not that bad,” he goes back to fidgeting, averting his gaze from yours. “i just- i’m scared ‘cause- ‘cause if i don’t like my present, what do i do?”

your heart stops trying to beat out of your chest and instead a huge smile spreads across your face

“oh my god, you scared me, honey - is that all, miles?” 

he still refuses to meet your eyes but he nods

your laugh is relieved as you run a hand up and down your son’s arm

“if you don’t like the present, bud, you just smile, say thank you and move on. they don’t have to know you don’t like it.”

your heart falls again when your son finally looks back up at you, eyes wet and bottom lip trembling as he attempts to hold back tears

“but that’s lying! i don’t wanna lie, mama!”

jesus, this boy is more like his dad than you ever realized

but your heart is threatening to burst because it’s so full with all of the love that you have for your compassionate almost four year old

“oh, angel,” you coo and he buries his face in your breasts, fisting your shirt as sobs shake his body

rubbing his back, you try to think of a viable alternative for him: “shh, shh, relax, relax. would it make you feel better if i just tell everyone not to bring presents-”

“no!” he exclaims, looking up at you desperately. “i want presents! i just- mama, i don’t wanna be mean.”

you only realize how long his hair is getting when you brush it out of his eyes: “sweetheart, they won’t mind if you don’t like it. as long as they know you’re grateful and appreciative in the end, hmm?”

“app- appre- appreciate-? mama, i don’t know that word.”

you smile while helping him sound it out

“you know what appreciate means.” he nods. “appreciative is the same word, just as an adjective. it means the same thing as grateful.”

“so i tell them when i don’t like my present but i have to be appre- i have to appreciate it.”

“well, yeah, but maybe don’t tell them-”

“okay, mama!” he kisses your cheek before hopping off of your lap and running out of the room with a “thank you!”

the sun shines down on miles’ outdoor birthday party. miles - who has invited all of his friends from pre-k and all of the avengers - is showered with affection and compliments all day, spending plenty of time hanging out with his favorite uncle bucky 

miles is having so much fun that he almost forgets about presents altogether, but tony keeps urging you and steve to open them now because he wants to see miles’ face when he opens his gift

(it was a starkpad that you definitely yelled at tony about later because he’s four and you already have a headache just thinking about how much time you’re gonna spend prying it away from him)

so you’ve formed a circle, you and steve flanking miles on either side as he tears open the paper to a reveal a multitude of presents

and thankfully, the people in attendance all know your son fairly well so he’s loved every single gift he’s opened

“love you peter! love you shuri!” miles stands up and throws himself into the two teenagers’ legs when he sees that they’re taking him to disneyland and your heart warms at the way all of their eyes light up

but trouble ensues when wanda hands him his present and he rips it open to reveal... a train set?

miles quietens and although nobody else really notices, too busy chatting away, you observe the change in his demeanor because it’s obvious that he doesn’t like it. he once said to steve verbatim: “daddy, i don’t like trains. trains are stupid” to which steve laughed and subsequently told him off for 

(”stupid is not a nice word, miles. would you like it if someone called you stupid?”

“...no i wouldn’t, daddy.”)

“what do you think, miles?” wanda probes, an excited smile on her face and there’s a pause where you silently pray that miles won’t say anything-

“mama said i should tell the truth so... i don’t like it, auntie wanda. but mama also said i should be ‘preciative, so thank you!”

and you’ve never wanted to the floor to swallow you as much as you have in this moment

people quieten while miles puts the train set aside, stands up and heads over to his auntie wanda

wanda, who looks to be absolutely crushed, furrows her brow in confusion and looks at you

you casually look anywhere but her, feeling your face heat up and instead choose to busy yourself with gathering the wrapping paper into one pile 

you hear snickers come from behind you and when you look over your shoulder, steve is red in the face with trying to hold back his laughter, as is bucky, but sam, rhodey and tony are actually just full-on cackling at your discomfort

a fierce scowl you send their way makes them shut up... just for a minute, though

you chance a glance at wanda and feel a sense of relief when you see miles trying to cheer her up, arms wound around her neck while he presses a huge kiss on her cheek with a loud “mwah!”

(she’s still staring at you but all you can do is mouth a regretful “sorry!”)

luckily, that was the last present and you take this opportunity get as far away as possible from this entire situation

heading into the kitchen to throw the paper away, you feel a strong body behind yours and when thick arms wind around your waist, you know that it’s your husband. you turn in his arms to face him and scowl at the mirth in his eyes

“baby,” he wheezes, still chuckling, “wanda’s pretty upset. what did you tell him?”

“oh my god,” you bury your face in your hands because this is so embarrassing and you feel awful. “i- steve, he literally came to me yesterday because he was so scared that he wasn’t going to like his gifts.”

“why didn’t you tell him to just not say anything... or lie?” steve’s laughter intensifies and it’s hard to refrain from grinning youself

“i did! and then he burst into tears at the mere thought of it and i didn’t know what to do! so i told him that if he was just honest and appreciative, then everything would be fine and nobody would think he was being rude-”

steve cuts you off with a roar of laughter, tears spilling from his eyes as his head falls onto your shoulder

“why are you laughing?! this is your fault! he did not get that moral compass from me.”

steve only laughs harder

“shut up, stop! it’s not funny, babe, people are gonna think i’m a terrible mom.”

“doll, no one thinks you’re a terrible mom,” steve immediately sobers up and looks you straight in the eyes. “people were just telling me how good it is that you’re teachin’ him to be honest.”

“stop lying.”

“i’m serious!” he holds his hands up. “on my way in here, people kept stopping me and telling me that he’s such an honest, polite little boy. he could’ve thrown a fit like a lot of other kids would if they didn’t like what they got for their birthday - but he didn’t. and that’s because you’re a great mom.”

you smile bashfully and you hook your fingers in his belt loops, pulling him towards you. you lean in to capture his lips between yours, grateful that he’s provided you with some reassurance, and he tightens the grip of his hands on your waist, running his tongue along the seam of your lips as he deepens the kiss

“daddy, mama- ew! gross!” 

miles runs in but stops short, covering his eyes dramatically when he sees his father with his tongue down your throat

steve pulls away from you with a fond smile on his face as you sigh, forehead resting on steve’s shoulder

“what’s up, buddy?”

miles runs to his father and raises his arms, making steve lift him up and sit him on the countertop

“i ‘pologized to auntie wanda,” he tells you

“oh yeah?”

“yeah,” he swings his legs back and forth, looking between you and steve, “i was being a meanie. but she said it was fine and then she said she’s gonna take the trains back to the store.”

“that’s great, miles, i’m so proud of you,” steve hugs him and kisses him on the cheek which makes miles beam, proudly showing off the gap between his two front teeth. “but you weren’t being mean. sometimes there’s just such a thing as being too honest, y’know?”

miles nods, “i guess so, daddy. i miss you, can you guys come back outside?”

“yes we can, sweetheart,” you run a hand through his hair. and before steve can even bring him back down, your son jumps off of the counter (”oh my god!” you squeal because this boy is going to give you a heart attack) and sprints out of the room

on his way out, you grab the back of steve’s neck to pull his lips back to yours but are interrupted again by a very insistent voice

“and no more kissing!”

“bud, who are you talking to?” 

that’s bucky’s voice

“uncle ‘ucky, mama and daddy are kissing! at my birthday party!”

bucky gasps: “no! ew!”

“i know!” 

i am crying goodbye

[thatshiscigar]

Trapped - Chapter Two

JJ Maybank x Reader

Chapter One

Warnings: slight swearing

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: chapter three coming soon!

Masterlist

Let me know if you would like to be added to my OBX taglist!

You woke up the next morning with a pit in your stomach. You knew what you had to do in order to protect yourself. You couldn’t let your self fall into the trap what was JJ Maybank.

You took your time getting up, letting your eyes take in the body next to you, his features glowing under the new sunlight. It hurt so bad to know he’ll never be yours. Yours to love, to protect. You couldn’t handle the pain. It was too fresh of a wound to pour salt into this early in the morning. You couldn’t kick yourself while you were down.

You swiftly got out of bed and gathered your belongings as quickly and quietly as you could. You opened the bedroom door, and the creek sounding from the hinges made you wince. You glanced back to him, making sure he was still sleeping peacefully. You let your eyes linger on him for longer than you should’ve. You were supposed to be leaving and distancing yourself, not staying and falling for him all over again.

You finally ripped your eyes from him, not noticing the tears that were falling freely. You turned away and closed the door behind you, heading to the back door.

“Going somewhere?” The voice made you jump out of your skin. You turned to the couch, only to see John B’s smug little face. He was kneading a little stress ball in his hand.

“Um, yeah! My mom just wanted me home, so,” you jabbed your thumbs in the direction of the door, wanting to escape this conversation as quickly as possible.

“Oh, really? She’s never done that before, has she?” John B could sense your bullshit from a mile away. He always could, and you loved and hated that about him. He stood up from his place on the couch and walked over to you, his eyes burning holes in yours.

“What’s up,” he asked, his tone concerned, like a worried dad.

“Um,” you started, trying to gather your thoughts.

“He still hasn’t told me why, he said it didn’t matter.” You shrugged, desperately trying to play off your nerves.

“No,” John B rested his hand on your shoulder.

“I mean with you.” You looked up at him in surprise. You didn’t expect him to worry about you, especially not with JJ looking like he just his face caved in.

John B’s eyes were comforting. They told you that you could tell him anything, even about your crush on JJ. But you pushed those thoughts away. All they did was remind you of what you couldn’t have.

“Nothings up with me, I’m fine,” you said defensively. It was useless to lie to John B. He was like a bloodhound for the truth, but he didn’t want to press you to talk about something you didn’t want to talk about. He nodded in acceptance.

“Well, whatever’s up with you,” he opened your hand, sliding the stress ball into your palm.

“Take this little guy with you. You need it more than I do.” He closed your fingers around the ball for you, offering you a sympathetic smile. You smiled back, giving a weak thanks. You brought your free hand to his shoulder, giving it a few smalls pats before turning for the door.

“See ya later?” John B asked as you were half way out the door.

“Yeah.” You gave him a half-assed smile and walked out to your car, playing with the stress ball in your hand. You slid it into your backpack.

“Yeah, see you later,” you muttered to yourself. That was one lie John B didn’t catch.

-

It had been two weeks since you’d last seen your best friends, and the only thing keeping you company was the little stress ball. It tore you up inside, but you would rather push your friends away than feel the pain of longing and yearning for something you can’t have.

At first, you told them that your mom needed you to do chores, like, a lot of chores. Like cleaning the kitchen, the mud room, the bathroom, and everything else in between. It was the only lie you had thought of, and it was believable. For a little while. After about a week of “chores”, your friends were starting to get suspicious. Your house wasn’t any bigger than John B’s, or JJ’s, so it didn’t make sense to be cleaning it for a week straight. Your friends also knew your mom, and they knew her well enough to know she’s not the type of person make you stay in to clean the house in the middle of summer, when you should be out with your friends. Your lie was falling apart in front of you.

But they let you hang onto it for a few more days, even though they missed you just as much as you missed them, if not more. They knew if you were really distancing yourself from them, it was for good reason. You wouldn’t just leave them for good without an explanation, but the not knowing drove them insane.

Pope and Kie were concerned. They knew what you were going through the night before you left, and even though they didn’t play role in your distance, they couldn’t help but feel a little bit of guilt. Maybe if they had said more around the fire, you wouldn’t feel the need to push them away

JJ didn’t know how to handle himself. He felt like he drove you away. He knew that this would happen one day. You’d get sick of him, like everyone else in his life, and you’d leave. He didn’t know why it hurt this much, though. He thought he’d been preparing for it pretty well. JJ never let himself get too attached, and he never let you know how he felt about you.

Your last conversation didn’t sit right with John B. He knew something was up with you, and he let it slide. John B was the leader of the group, and even though nobody else knew about your conversation that morning, he felt like he let everyone down. He didn’t find out what was wrong with you, and maybe if he pressed a little bit harder, you wouldn’t be doing this. John B was getting sick of the not knowing. He knew you didn’t really like the whole “let’s talk about our emotions” thing, so when he finally decided to go to your house to see what’s up, he thought it would be best to not bring the peanut gallery.

You were sitting in your room making a friendship bracelet when you heard the familiar rumble of the old van. You ran to your window, your eyes wide as they confirmed what you thought you heard. You busted out of your room to look for your mom, and you quickly found her on the couch, reading the newspaper. Your sudden movements made her jump.

“God, Y/N!” She scolded.

“If one of my friends comes to the door, I’m-“ you were cut off by the doorbell.

“I’m not here!” You quickly shut your bed room door and sat down against it, your head in your hands. You grabbed the stress ball from your night stand, hoping it would live up to its name.

“Hi Ms, Y/L/N, is Y/N here?” You heard John B’s voice through the wood.

“Why yes! Let me get her for you!” Your moms tone was overly cheery, knowing she was so close to getting you out of the house and back out into the world with your friends.

She walked down the small hallway and knocked on your door. Swallowing the stone in your throat, you stuffed the ball in your pocket, stood up, and placed your hand on the doorknob. You hesitated before you twisted it, knowing what conversation awaited you on the other side of that door.

You cracked the door before fully opening it, coming face to face with your mother. Sho offered you a small smile before briskly walking down the small hallway to get to her room, leaving you and John B some privacy. You stepped out of your room, finally exposing yourself to your visitor.

“Hey,” John B said over a breath. Seeing you alive and okay lifted a thousand tons off his shoulders.

“Hey,” you said back, your voice low. You could barley look at him without feeling guilty and ashamed of leaving him in the dark. You moved to your couch and sat down, John B following suit.

“Alright,” he started.

“I’m just gonna cut out the shit, Y/N. What’s going on with you?” He almost sounded mad. He stood up from his place on the couch.

“I mean, you vanished for two weeks with no explanation! And don’t give me that I was doing chores bullshit, we both know that’s a lie.” You kept your eyes to the floor, afraid of meeting his fiery gaze. John B did not like being lied to, and that’s exactly what you’d done.

His face softened when he saw your tears splash on the ground. He felt guilty. He knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with yelling, he just needed to get his anger out. You had abandoned him and the rest of your friends, and he was scared of losing you for good.

He sat back down next to you, and placed a consoling hand on your knee.

“He misses you, y’know.” John B didn’t have to say his name, you knew who he was talking about.

“He’s drinking more, smoking more, fighting more.” He paused, trying to think of his next words. He knew about your crush on JJ, he wasn’t blind. He recognized the look of jealousy on your face whenever JJ was with flirting with another girl at a party. The look of longing, yearning, and anger was something unmistakeable. He also knew that JJ had a crush on you. He might’ve let it slip one night while he was drunk. He saw you laughing with a touron, and his jealousy rose.

“You keep him together, Y/N,” he whispered. Your eyes shot up to John B’s at the quiet words. You had spent the mast two weeks convincing yourself that you didn’t matter to JJ, that he would always mean more to you than you would to him, but here John B was, the person who knew JJ like the back of his hand, telling you that you were the thing that was keeping JJ from crumbling.

“Come back, Y/N, please.” He grabbed your hand.

Going back to the Chateau wasn’t going to be easy, but if staying away was hurting JJ more than it was helping you, your pain didn’t matter to you anymore. You couldn’t go about your days knowing you were causing the boy that you loved to hurt.

“Yeah,” you said. It was so quiet, John B wasn’t sure you said anything at all. You had to face your feelings head on, or else you’d just keep living like you were.

“Let’s go.”

Taglist: @supremestarkey @lovelymaybankk @blueeyedbesson @whormotional @classywaves @sexytholland @danaerekat @em753 @babyhoneystvles @angelic-boca @milked-down-coffee @dolanfivsosxox @sunwardsss

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Miles Morales x Parker!Reader

@spacesuitsforemergency​ asked:  Could you write headcanons of Peter Parker’s younger sister dating Miles Morales? The reader knows all about the whole spider and venom stuff. Thank you!

A/N: I hope you like it! This was fun to write!

You met Miles when Peter brought him back home when the Siege Perilous was destroyed

He brought him over to chill out because he thought you wouldn’t be home

“Hey, Pete, who’s this?”

“Uh, I thought you wouldn’t be home?”

“Change of plans, my friends bailed on me so I guess I’m hanging out with you tonight.”

It wasn’t that Peter didn’t want to hang out with you

It was just that you and Miles didn’t have much in common, so he didn’t want to have to play monkey in the middle

But you seemed pretty bummed that your outing got cancelled so he had to be a good big brother and let you in on the fun

That was until he got an alert on his communicator

“I’ll come with!”

“Nah, it’s cool, it’s just a robbery. You’ve had a long day; you should stay here with (Y/N).”

Truth was, Peter didn’t want to be around during the awkward meeting

So, he got his spandex covered butt out of there and left you alone with a boy

Big brother of the year people

“So, Miles, is it? Where are you from?”

“Um, another dimension?”

“I knew that, but like where in the other dimension.”

“Wait, hold up a second, you know?”

You just shrugged, “Peter thinks he’s slick but he really isn’t.”

Peter spends the rest of the night out and about fighting crime and you and Miles watch your favourite show together

Finally, around midnight, big brother comes back home and the two of you are still awake

“Did you eat all the pizza without me?!”

“I thought you’d be full of all the knuckle sandwiches you got.” You joked, not telling him that you left a couple slices in the microwave for him

“You should really leave the jokes to me.”

And then he takes Miles back to the triskelion, completely oblivious about the fact that the two of you exchanged numbers

You meet up a few times, causally of course, and then one day you ask him out on a date

“As much as I’d like to, I really don’t think it’s a good idea. You know, with me returning to my own dimension.”

“Huh, sounds to me like you’re scared, Morales.”

“Scared? Of you?”

“Yep, I must be pretty scary if the great Kid Arachnid is running away.”

He never actually, officially says yes but now you both know that you like each other

And the casual meet-ups turn into dates

Nothing too romantic ever happens though, because Miles is afraid that he’d get attached and then have to leave you behind

And his fear is realized when they put back together the Siege Perilous and chose to stay in the other dimension with his mom

“Um, tell (Y/N) that I’m going to miss her.”

Peter, albeit confused, said okay

“Who’s (Y/N)?”

Miles face darkened with a blush, “She’s sort of my girlfriend.”

“WHAT?! YOU’RE DATING MY SISTER?! SINCE WHEN?!”

“For like 2 months now.”

“WHAT?!”

“Wow, (Y/N) was right, you aren’t slick.”

His mom and him decide to come back to your dimension and stay there

When he meets you again, he’s so happy that he was reunited with his mom, that he got to stay in your dimension, that he doesn’t have to hold his feelings back anymore

So, when he sees you when he returns, smiling at him, he just can’t help it

Rushes up to you to plant a kiss on your lips

Your first kiss

Peter is not amused

“Woah, hey there, if the two of you want to continue this then rule one is no kissing. You’re too young for kissing.”

Miles is embarrassed and has a quip on the edge of his tongue but before he says anything you already have

“Aw, it’s okay Pete, you don’t have to be jealous, you’ll get a girlfriend soon. Hopefully.”

“Yeah, Peter, don’t worry, I’ll treat your sister right.”

“Of course you will, but I’ve grown up with (Y/N) and you’re too good for her.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s true! She’s a brat and a nightmare! She eats all the red skittles and leaves me the yucky green ones!” “Well I like the green ones so that’s okay.”

“Yeah?! Well Peter always uses the bathroom when you’re having a shower!” “We don’t really share a bathroom so it’s cool.”

Miles spends most of his time in between the two of you, to stop arguments and pushing and shoving

Peter will never tell you, but he totally gave Miles the big brother speech

Miles definitely told you about it and you laughed for hours at the thought of Peter being intimidating

As for the relationship, Miles is a pretty mature kid for his age so arguments about petty things and such are handled pretty quickly

Dates are lowkey and cute since the two of you are pretty young

And because you know if it’s something big then Peter will find out and that’s not a conversation you want to have

May is overjoyed and his mom likes you a lot too

Family dinners become a thing

Eating dinner while holding hands underneath the table is also a thing

And Peter can’t say anything about it because Aunt May is right there and would smack him

“Admit it, Pete, we’re a pretty cute couple.”

The most he’ll admit is that if in some other universe, he didn’t know the two of you then he would think that you’re kind of cute, but other than that he can’t see it

“I still think he’s too good for you.”

“Maybe after getting a brother like you, I deserve something good in my life.”

“Hey! You take that back!”

“Make me!”

“Can we all just admit that I’m too good for either of you and finish this movie?!”

“.......Fine.”

[fictionalabyss]

Protector : Questioned.

Pairing :   Dean x F!Reader, Alex (OC), Sam, Detective Baker (OC)

Word count : 1,463

Warnings : Time jump - little over 4 years after chapter 10. Illegal questioning of a minor.  Fear and anxiety of what's to come. Series TW : Domestic Abuse is a constant topic- be it mentioned, or actually happening.

Continuation of this series was commissioned by : @iflostreturntosteverogers​​

Part 11 of Protector.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

Alex sat at the table quietly, eyes downcast on his hands that were clasped in his lap. The offered glass of water on the table sat untouched.  He’d been silent since entering the room, not a word no matter what they said. They had been nice enough at the start, but they were getting angry. They were running out of time, he knew it, they knew it, hell, they knew he knew it.

“Look, kid, we know you know something. You aren’t stupid. You live with the guy, you work for him-”

“I work in a garage.” Alex finally spoke, though he still didn’t look up at the detective who was leaning on the table. “I work on cars for dumbasses who don’t know the ‘check engine’ light means to check your fucking engine.” He finally looked up. “That's all I know.”

“You work in their garage.”

“I work in a garage. I don’t know who owns it.” Alex shrugged, and that seemed to piss the detective off, he could tell by the way his jaw ticked.

“Yeah? And who got you that job?”

“I applied for it.” Alex dead panned. “I gave my resume to every garage in town, they just offered me better pay.” Alex shrugged. “If you know so much about me, then you know I've had a knack for cars and engineering for years. Want to know about my middle school science fair project?”

“You and Dean left the state a few weeks back-”

“Visiting schools. It’s why I work, to pay for college.”

“Why the extra muscle then?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You were accompanied by-” the detective flipped open the folder on the table. The first page had Dean’s mugshot and a list of information, but Alex barely got a look at it as the pages turned. “Sam Winchester, and one Ash ‘Dr Badass’ Miles.”

“An Alumni of the school showing me around.” Alex shrugged. “What's your point?”

“My point is, son, you’re in danger.” Alex laughed at that. “You think that’s funny? You live and work with the men who, we are convinced, killed your father.”

“Dean is my father.”

“Your real father.”

“My ‘real father’ beat the shit out of me and my mom and tried to kill us before disappearing. He’s a missing person that for some fucked up reason you’re still looking for.”

“Because we’re convinced that Dean had him killed.”

“Yeah? When I was 5, I was convinced that my dad was the best dad on the plant. Sometimes, people are just wrong.”  The door burst open, and Alex just smiled at the detective. “Time’s up.”

“Let’s go, Alex.”

“Ma’am-” The detective held out his hand to try and stop Alex from standing and leaving.

“You! You have some fucking nerve dragging a 17 year old boy in here.” You took a step closer, finger pointed at him. “You have no fucking right to ask him anything without a parent or a lawyer, and I know for a fact he asked for both when he walked into the station. So now, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer for harassing my son.”

“Your husband killed his father.” The detective countered. “Don’t you want justice?”

“If he���s dead, big fucking if, justice has been served. Leave my son alone. Out, Alex.”

Alex stood and gave the detective a polite smile. “Sorry, bud. You fucked up.”

“Alex!” You shot him a glare as he left the room, then turned that glare on the detective. “Stay away from my son.” you growled before turning on your heel and storming out.

Dean was standing next to the Impala when you both walked out. “You okay?” He asked, eyes on Alex.

“I’m fine, Dean. Really, I’m okay.” Alex smiled and opened the back door.

Dean cupped your face as you got close to him. “Are you okay?”

“They took him in for questioning.. For what? Why harass a teenage boy?”

“I don’t know, baby. Sammy’s buddy from Stanford is already flying in, he’s good.” You gave him a nod and he pressed his lips to your forehead, his eyes going behind you as the door opened and the detective stepped out. Dean’s jaw ticked, and you looked up at him. “Let’s go home.”

You turned and glanced back at the detective as Dean opened the passenger side door for you. You slid in, and Dean shut the door behind you. Your attention on the detective who stood watching the three of you with his arms crossed over his chest. “Where’s Abby?” Alex asked, pulling your attention back.

“At home, with Uncle Sam.” you answered as Dean pulled open the driver side door and slid in.

“When your mom called me in a panic, we both hauled ass to the house.” Dean added after his door had shut and he was starting up the engine. He didn’t talk again until he was well away from the curb. “What’d they want anyways? Why’d they grab you from school?”

Alex shrugged. “They were asking about you.”

“About me?” Dean glanced over as you looked at him with worry.

“Mhm.” Alex hummed, looking out the window. “They’re sure I know more than I let on about what you do, where you go and who you meet. They knew we went to Michigan and who with.”

“What’d you tell them?”

“Not much.” Alex shrugged. “That I don’t know shit, I work for the garage who offered to pay me the most and Michigan was a trip with my family to visit a college.” He glanced to the front seat at Dean, eyes meeting in the rear view. “The truth. Dude’s pretty convinced you're a killer, though, and that mom and I are in danger.”

Dean’s brow furrowed and he risked a glance behind him. His eyes were back on the road when he felt your hand on his lap, squeezing it. He chanced a glance your way to see the worried look on your face had deepened.

Dean pulled into the driveway, and Alex was the first out of the car. You slipped from the car next as he turned off the engine. He could see from the way you held yourself that something was bugging you. With a sigh, Dean exited the car.

“Baby,” Dean stopped you from going past him, his hands cupping your face. “What’s wrong? Alex is fine, he-”

“They’re saying you killed his father, they’re saying I should want justice for that. As if him being dead wouldn’t be justice for what happened to us.” you glanced up at Dean. “I don't want to know, I don’t care. I just- He said it in front of Alex. Who knows what else he said to him before we could get here..”

“They don’t have anything or they wouldn’t be harassing the kid. They’ve been doing this shit for years, a few too many bar fights and suddenly you’re the scum of the earth.” Dean half chuckled. “Anything they can slap us with, they will. I’m just sorry you guys are being dragged into it.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Dean.”

“You won't, baby, I promise.” He ducked his head so his lips could meet yours.

“Everything okay?” Sam asked from the doorway, and the kiss broke, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth as you pulled away from Dean.

“Go inside, baby. I’ll be in in a minute.” You nodded and headed in, slipping past Sam without a word. Dean motioned for Sam to come closer as he leaned against the Impala.

“What’d they pull the kid in for?”

“Us. More specifically me. Asked about the garage, the trip to Michigan, told the kid I killed his father.” Dean shrugged.

“Jesus Christ..” Sam was actually stunned by that last one. Sure, the families occasionally got harassed if someone got caught doing some rough shit, but never had a kid been grabbed from school and had shit thrown at them like that. “They’re getting ballsy..”

“When’s Brady getting here?”

“Uh- Tomorrow morning. His flight lands at like 7am, I think he said?”

“Thank fuck  you went to college, Sammy.” Dean pat his brother on the back. “Abby good?”

“Yeah, she was good.” Sam smiled. “Always is for me. How’s the wife?”

Dean sucked his teeth as he started towards the house, brother in tow. “Pregnant, pissed and scared, Sammy. And this time, it’s on me. Fuckin’ Baker.”

“Baker? The same asshole who tried to throw you in prison last time?”

“Shit, yeah eh?” Dean smiled. “I should send him a gift basket or a thank you card, he’s the reason I met her.” Dean stopped outside the door laughing. “Fuck, imagine that on his conscious?” Dean was still laughing as he entered his home, Sam shaking his head behind him.

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[redmaneroster]

Our Home Away From Home, Away From Home

[1] [2] [3] [4-5] [6] [x] [8-9] [10]

PART 7 – Crustacean

They've been awake for at least an hour now, staring at the ceiling. It's dark all over, breached by apertures on the steel portal door of their room but the slits of light only cut into a broken ceiling fan and Yang's fingernail next to Jaune's ear.

Penny's voice comes muffled through the thick ceiling. Ruby's high-pitched cheers like distant whispers next to the megaphone voice of their android friend. They're all on a boat house for the sea and it's clear the girls are having a blast trying to steer the thing.

"They're having fun," Jaune says. He means nothing by it. Just an observation. Pointless conversation through the sleepy haze of a rocking ship. Jaune would have gotten sick were he not on a stable bed. He has pills for the motion sickness but they won't last him the entire trip. Sleep is the only way he can ration them.

Yang shifts over his arm and raises her hand, letting the light catch her nail again. It glistens like a solitary star off a cosmic trail. She giggles because the haze has caught onto her too and she's half-awake as it is. "He he, we could have fun too, y'know?"

He seizes, sitting up. "Y-Yang…?"

Yang does the same, huddling into a ball, clutching the comforter like it might shield her. "I-I meant by joining them! I didn't… I mean, I don't think I meant it that way…" Most of her is certain she didn't mean it like that but halfway through speaking, she wanted to take it back. She thinks she's ready, prepared to not freak out at the idea of exposing herself and seeing all of him. Her every uncertainty is truth, as honest as her apprehension to let him touch her.

She can barely see his face but his features soften in the dark, clearer when he gets closer. And for a moment it scares her to think he's taking that initiative. Her chest thumps like earthly tremors, cracking against her skin as it splinters like desert ground. Lips just as dry.

But he doesn't get any closer. He crouches next to her, facing away, but one of his hands reaches out for hers to close the rest of the distance. Her hands twitch when the warmth of his rolls over the back of her palm and hovers over her knuckles.

His hand stops and, instead, takes her fingers between two of his and a thumb. It's a gentle and quiet contact. He doesn't want to scare her. "I know you're having second thoughts," he says slowly, deliberately. As if knowing. Just like Saphron. "But how about we agree to do this when we're both one-hundred percent on it? Like when we have no doubt that this is how we take things going forward."

"Yeah… I think I'd like that." She clutches his hand fully now. Even shuffling closer. A warm breath tickles the hairs on his extended arm. "Look, I want it clear that it isn't you I'm apprehensive about. It's everything that comes after."

She can feel the heat of his blush from his hands alone.

"Uh… Yang, I hope I haven't somehow gotten you thinking I was going to do anything wild."

"No, no," she laughs, "nothing like that." She squeezes his hand and shuffles till her arm is flush against his. "I… I want kids."

"Um!" He tenses but doesn't let go of her as a sign of resolve.

"I don't mean now! Or anytime soon, I swear!" She lets him take a breath and unwind his rigid bones. "Really jumpstarted his heart, didn't I?" she thinks. Another squeeze from her, asking for courage he pours out of his sweaty palm.

"I'm afraid," she says finally, "of what comes after. If I don't try to stopgap how quickly things are going, sooner or later I'll have a kid of my own and I'll stare them in the face and… I'm worried that I'll be afraid. That, somehow, Mom running away would make sense."

He stares at her, eyes wide. "You called her mom."

An uncomfortable shiver runs down her neck and scrapes against her ribs. She shudders as she buries her head between her curled-up knees. "It's not about her. At least, I don't think so. I've caught myself calling her mom in my head when I think about it. Like I'm hoping I can still call myself a mother."

"That's a lot of thinking ahead, Yang. Who knows how long it'll even be till then."

She shrugs with a laugh that doesn't reach her eyes. "I've always been wired that way. I got a full life to live but I had to spend a lot of time prepping Ruby's future. If I don't prepare for the inevitable, I'll waste time trying to figure it out when it actually arrives."

"It doesn't sound like you're waiting to know if you'll be ready. Only that you worry if you'll ever be ready at all."

She nods, a touch of shame welling in her chest. "Is that bad?"

"I think it's human."

"That just tells me I could screw up like everyone else…"

"I like to think it means we're afraid of the same things."

Yang pulls her head out of her knees and blinks at him. Their hands are sweating and her nerves are mirrored on him too. She can see it on his face but it almost doesn't make sense. "Why?" she asks. "You'll make a great dad, Jaune. Hell, you'd make a great mom too!" She almost doesn't notice the little smile on her cheeks.

"Could say the same to you," he says, smiling again but there's a quiver in his hands. It's uncomfortably weak. "But it doesn't really matter that we think the world of each other. We'll probably mess up anyway. I may not share your fear of becoming like your mom but I'm every bit as afraid of not turning up like mine. My parents are storied huntsmen who raised eight proper kids. My grandparents before them were hard won veterans who were their children's heroes. That's a lot of legacy to live up to. And…" He makes a series of faces. All of them uncertain.

Her hand slides up his arm and the other knits between his fingers. Their heads lean onto each other before he speaks.

"Sometimes it feels like everything I'll ever do will be dwarfed by them. Short of saving the world and raising a dozen huntsmen–" Yang resists visibly wincing at the thought of raising twelve kids "–I'll never live up to them. And even if I do? I'm still not sure how to stop my kids from sharing the same fears…" He laughs. Not bitterly. There's a genuine hearty sound puffing out of his chest. "I think I know why Dad wanted me to be a doctor."

"Hm… Sounds like he was afraid of the same thing we are," she muses.

"I think so, too."

The sliver of light through the door passes them and, for a moment, the light is gone. The warmth and sweat of their hands are the only tangible things in the dark. And they cling to each other, summoning courage as fears drip away like melting ice.

"Jaune?" she asks.

"Yeah?"

"We should talk to your parents. I think there's a lot of easy-to-reach wisdom we aren't taking advantage of here." He's silent for a long second and Yang nearly calls him out until she notices the sheen of his scroll. "What are you doing?"

His Cheshire grin is mortifying under the pale glow. "Calling my folks."

"No! Stop!" she screeches, scrambling on top of him like a wild monkey. "I'm not ready! My hair's a mess!"

He pulls his hand away. "C'mon! They'll love you!"

"Can it, Arc! Sweet talking won't stop me!"

They wrestle for a while and Yang is so focused on getting his scroll that she forgets what she taught Jaune. They've wrestled in the past for training and something he's very broadly taken from those lessons has been going on the offensive. Tucking away his scroll, he manages to slink around her and grapple her arms.

"What? Hey!"

Trapping the length of her arms above her with his arm, he reaches around her with the other to grab his scroll. He pulls it up. It goes to call and the preview camera puts them both in view (strangely, like two floating heads from the dark).

With enough struggling, Yang knows she can break out even at a disadvantageous position, but the call answers quickly and she freezes up. Her awkward smile is automatic. Her panicked heart is full-auto.

"Hey, Mom, Dad! This is Yang, my girlfrie–" His mouth hangs open when their eyes meet in what can only be described as abject terror.

They hadn't exactly agreed on a label.

There's click from the scroll. "…And saved!" Jaune's mom sings. "Aren't you two cute."

-0-

They don't get a lot of answers. Jaune's parents, Apolian and Helia (she insists on Aunt Hess), tell them that this is the kind of discussion you have over dinner. Yang is promptly invited to see them over the Summer.

They do end up sharing stories, and by the end of it Yang feels confident that she's left a good first impression. Yet, by the time they walk into the morning light and find an empty spot together at the front deck, their nerves worm their way back in but for different reasons this time.

"So… labels. Yay," Yang cheers weakly against the railing.

"Yeah," Jaune drawls. "Fifteen percent off. This side up. Expires yesterday. Labels!" he cheers sarcastically, awkwardly. "Totally love 'em."

It's very easily something they can agree to discuss another time but it doesn't feel right doing so. Like it's not so big a deal that they can't hold off but not small enough to ignore for too long. Besides, people are going to ask questions (not that they haven't already) and just agreeing on something would work for a few more miles.

"Y'know, it's funny," Yang says, "I was fully prepared to just be boyfriend and girlfriend when this all started. Now that I've got clarity, I'm starting to wonder if we're even pacing ourselves right as friends."

Jaune hums agreeably. "But maybe we've worried so much about the pace that we've forgotten if it even matters… I mean, so what if things are going too fast? What should matter is if we want it or not."

"Do you want it?" she asks.

He shrugs. "I guess I don't mind telling everyone we're dating. And exclusive. But what are we if not that by definition? What's the difference with that and being an item?"

She sighs, pivoting around to lean her back against the railing instead. "What if the label's pointless to begin with? It just sums up what we are for other people. Like you said, it should only really matter to us."

"Maybe that's just it. The label isn't important to us and so it's only for them. If all they're asking is to sum up what we are, then we should just pick a label that answers enough questions and any nuance we need we can keep to ourselves."

"Yeah, we don't have change to fit it, even. We'll just be the way we are."

But the uncomfortable question of what they even are lingers between them. Not a label, per se. Perhaps a name truly is pointless, but what does it mean to be what they are?

When their hands meet in the middle, there's an air of comfort, a touch of romance. A quiet laugh and a knowing smile. They balk at the smell of salty sea air, laugh at the antics of an excitable Penny, gossip at some friends huddled a little too close. It's all friendly, familiar. Uncomplicated.

They decide that quantifying it is either too hard or actually impossible. And a quiet ambivalence washes over them – stinging and uncertain – and figuring it out will take a lot of testing.

-0-

It was supposed to be a little solitary date but Sun knows a guy with a boat house and Pyrrha has a sponsorship with an outdoor grill you can take to the beach (the sponsor feels that a photoshoot on the deck of a ship is an inspired take). The fact that there's a small, unfamiliar crew onboard is a little concerning but they're largely invisible and stay out of the way. Though Sun and Pyrrha have made it a game to hide away from them.

Yang has started wearing a red wig to throw them off and, stood next to Jaune who is a muscular blonde, from behind he can pull off looking like Sun at a glance. Most of the crew is understanding and they have a few good laughs.

Yang muses that she might look good as a redhead and posits to Jaune that she might dye her hair down the line.

"And here I thought those locks were sacred."

"Yeah, I don't think they can stop being immaculate," she says as she twirls in front of a mirror, trying to get a good look of it down her back. "Red's sufficiently bright. Maybe…"

"Well, bright colors will match your eyes," Jaune says sat across from her in a half-zipped wetsuit, "but I don't see you having many options with hair that long. You gotta get a hairdresser to cover all that thickness. You're gonna mess up trying to do it yourself."

Yang chews the thought like she does her lip. "I guess I could just cut it."

Jaune blinks at her. "I'm not the most religious man but even that sounds blasphemous."

"Heh. I might've thought the same thing last year."

"What changed?"

She bundles her hair in her hands, draping it over her shoulder. "I inherited my hair from my mom, but it's something I took and made my own. I took pride in that, but nowadays that just feels… petty. I mean, I still take pride in taking care of it, but I've started to come around to the idea that I could just like however I look as long as that choice is my own. Even if I end up looking ridiculous for a semester."

He comes up behind her, eying himself in the mirror. "Okay, but only if you let me do the same."

"Dye your hair?"

"Yeah, to match yours. Maybe I'll even grow mine out. Always wanted to try a wolf-tail." He turns his head and bunches up a few of his locks. It's not enough for a full tail since much of the length is lost in his fist, but Yang can kind of see it working.

But red?

"I can't put you through that."

"But you won't be," he says matter-of-factly, "I'll be putting myself through that. So, if I choose to stand behind you by experimenting with my hair the same way, that'll be my choice."

She sighs and backs up into his chest. "Why do you keep cheating? You know I can't argue with that kind of logic. And you'll just end up looking ridiculous by the end."

"At least I'll look like the bigger fool."

"Jaune…"

"I'm used to it," he maintains evenly, sternly. "I'm glad people don't look down on me anymore but being with me means you have to live with the fact that I'm still every bit that little spaz who threw up on your boots. Which I'm glad you forgave me for, by the way. Real quick on that too."

"Heh, well, my temper's never been about my style. An unfortunate dork just gets pity, and even a mild jerk might just get a glare. It's mostly about my pride. I worked hard on my hair back in freshmen year and… I hated losing. I mean, god damn does Yatsu hit hard. I guarantee that I'll start seeing red again if I get a repeat of last year's Vytal."

"You're competing again this year?"

She gives him gigawatt grin. "JNPR didn't need to compete but you all did anyway. If Jaune Arc can stand on international television despite obvious odds and harbor an unnecessary need to feel like he's somehow a burden, what's Yang Xiao Long to do but follow his example and beat her own demons to death?"

His cheeks are a touch red and she gives him the small mercy of not pointing it out. "I guess I can't argue with that either," he says.

Yang pushes off him and raises one hand while pressing the other against her chest before she announces before him, "I swear mercy upon my hair, that you might see fit to show mercy on yours."

"Even if things go horribly wrong and I decide that the only way to one-up you is to grow a mullet?"

She snorts. "I will shave you bald in your sleep, and don't think for a second that I won't do that."

They're laughing and he rolls his eyes but he's certain she'll make good on if it comes to that. "C'mon, we've spent enough time not getting ready. They're probably already in the water."

She helps him with his zipper. "Blake's probably already caught one," she says. There's an excited tingle that runs through her spine. "Now I've got an itch. Wanna see if we can catch more than she can?"

"Both of us against her?"

"She used to dive for clams with her dad. No gear either. Two against one is only fair."

They still lose to her, and they're not even in second place. Sun has been diving for seafood since he was kid.

They manage over two dozen lobsters and a handful of crabs, and unanimously agree not to boil the poor things alive. Still, they mess up a few times cause no one actually knows how to cook lobster even with Penny's encyclopedic knowledge but they manage a lovely dinner eventually with a few failed attempts.

Neptune and Weiss disappear at some point only to be stumbled upon below deck. They'd been drinking. Everyone respects their privacy and don't ask why.

-0-

Nora interjects on a Tuesday team meeting that – now that it's public that Jaune and Yang are basically a couple – people both see it and don't see it.

Jaune is confused for long enough to just outright ask what she's talking about.

Sometimes people will catch them getting a little close in the halls (they're starting to notice the stares), but they're not always together and you wouldn't have noticed that something was up if you didn't already know. They sit next to each other all the time but are frequently talking to the rest of their teams (there was rumor that Jaune was secretly dating Ruby after they laughed out loud during class a few times). Witnesses spot them boarding bullheads to Vale around the weekends but are as frequently found shopping for groceries, ammo, inspecting ingots, and once even at a car dealership (and they're surprised how most of the things they do together could only be classified as dates if you squint hard enough and pretend they're doing anything else).

They're never caught holding hands. The one kiss was even on the cheek and some people still believe they were seeing things altogether. It almost feels like fiction or outlandish gossip. Not because it's them, but because no one saw it coming and people are still refusing to trust their eyes.

Yang thinks it's hilarious. Jaune thinks they need to clarify things before they get awkward. Yang was already propositioned after she lied about there being nothing between them. Lies are only going to complicate things.

So, in that moment they decide, "We're a couple."

Sure. Fine. Give them a label when they ask but they aren't changing anything else. They'd already agreed on it anyway. Still, the societal pressure to look the part just didn't vibe with them and they hope the label is the last thing they ever give into outside of themselves.

-0-

They find out two things on the last week before the semestral break, the one they'll mostly spend in Patch with Yang's parents.

One, that lobster needs to be preserved damp and freezing with salt water. Fresh water off the tap ruins their last reserve crustacean. Shame. Guess they'll have to plan another boat trip.

And two, that – at least according to the crusty boatman – lobsters don't stop growing. They get bigger and bigger until they've outgrown their own shells. So, they shed it and grow a new one. Then, eventually, they outgrow that shell, too, and start the process over and over again until we find them, crack them open, and feast on their delicious insides…

The boatman forgets his own metaphor in the reverie of polishing off the last of his meal, plucking his lips over the last delicate morsels.

He tells them all, then, that the price of growth is to constantly find that what was once familiar will inevitably feel alien. That everything about you and around you will change, and adaptation is not only what makes it survivable, but it also keeps you sane.

When they think he's done, he coughs, wheezes, then speaks again.

You should always look out for the in-between, he says with a serious look in his eye. Thing is, after shedding their shell, lobsters have to spend their meantime being vulnerable. Squishy, ugly little things, he emphasizes with gusto.

Transitions in your life will be like that, often terrifying and tumultuous, and the scary part is that your worries doesn't stop there. You have to be careful about who you become when you come out the other end. That it's not only hard to make the transition, that your choices in that change will determine who you are moving forward.

A lobster will come out wrong if something unexpected happens in the middle of molting. Might grow another claw or bulge out somewhere uncomfortably. But the boatman, rather optimistically, says a lobster has the option to cut off an offending part of them and regrow it. It'll take a while though. Years even, but correcting your character is never as easily solved with an apology or an act of will.

Because you'll never undo your mistakes. You can only make things right. And sometimes you can only do that little by little.

For a moment, Yang thinks of Raven.

-0-

It's when they're out by the pier to try an egg sandwich that Yang is thinking about lobsters and metaphors. "So, what happens after the apartment?" she asks. "After Beacon?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "I haven't thought that far ahead." Except he has, but it's all substitutions. He used to think of a future with Terra, but now Yang has replaced all those naïve, boyish dreams with a series of blonde heads bouncing on a couch. Still, these are fragmentary thoughts, and he doesn't think Yang would like it if he tried for the civilian life. No, right now – and for the past week – he's been trying to see where that future is now with Yang instead. "We should pair off, by the way."

"Uh, haven't we already?"

"I mean when we go hunting. I know you're only supposed to pair off with your own team but I don't see JNPR and RWBY splitting up… ever. I think we should get a head start."

"Okay, future proofing. Sounds like your next report for Leadership." It is, and Yang helps him figure out his bullet points while they chew thoughtfully on their egg sandwiches (it's really eighty-percent meat and cheese but it's got an egg inside and on top so it gets the name).

They talk about the car they're looking for. Jaune's racetrack savvy sister, Sable, it still swearing up and down about the Highway Aries being an ideal match. Yang still insists on a bike.

When they're packing up and driving home, Yang talks about her "cousin" Vernal and her estranged bedmate Shay. Jaune adds that he has cousins he doesn't remember because seven sisters are enough, he doesn't need to add another eight. (Yang reels at the idea of so many blondes at a single family gathering and those are just the grandkids).

When they're home they talk about another trip out to sea and inevitably segway back into lobsters.

Sitting on the couch, she's thinking about her future. Jaune plops next to her and laughs about something Ruby sends him on his scroll.

Yang's ignoring her messages from Nora – she's staring at her scroll on the coffee table and it buzzes but she can't register what's happening – and suddenly she blurts, "Hey, I know this is a ways off and I probably shouldn't be something you talk about it at eighteen in the middle of academy training but… if we get a girl, can we name her Summer?" There's no embarrassment blooming off her cheeks. Her face is completely neutral, and her eyes are searching for a response in his wide, vacant stare.

His typing hasn't stopped, only slowed. "…"

"Jaune?"

He sighs, and it's long and beaten like he's preparing himself for self-destruction. "Only if we agree to name our son…" he swallows uncomfortably. "…uh, Qrow?"

She's aghast, mouth opening and closing. "Did… did you lose a bet or something?"

He kisses her – his way of saying yes – but it's not cute this time. It's sad and piteous and his eyes scream an apology his lungs are strangling him not to say for fear of combusting in what is already volcanic embarrassment.

"Win the bet," she says sternly.

"What? But I already lost!"

"Then double or nothing! Short of him kicking the ever living fuck out of the bucket, I am not naming my son after my uncle." After his furious nodding, she summons a tiny strength in her lungs to speak, but not enough to look him in the eye. "So, you, uh, didn't answer my question."

The clatter of his flask on the coffee table almost scares her, but she can see that he isn't drinking at the thought of Terra. This time it's just about Qrow. It makes her feel less afraid. When he answers, there is no burden in his tone caused he'd downed his nerves in quarter-parts whiskey. "I'll agree to Summer if you let me name our next daughter Agrippa."

"Oh? Why?"

"Was set on it when I was kid. This was before Pyrrha, before Terra, even. I just remember crying at home during a storm. My bedroom door was stuck cause of a leak – y'know, cause water inflates wood – and no one could hear me call out to them under all the rain drumming the roof. I was soaking wet cause the leak got onto my sheets. Stupid thing was, I wasn't even afraid of getting sick or if my small boy body would get hypothermia. I just had a sleepover at a friend's place the morning after and I didn't want to miss it. Then, out of nowhere and probably from a fevered haze, I see a guardian angel or – as my sisters called it – an imaginary friend."

He pauses to look at her, to check if she thinks he's crazy. She doesn't. Yang doesn't judge. She listens.

"It was a girl just a head taller than mine," he continues. "The dark made her hair look brown or a dull red, so I can't recall that for sure but I remember her eyes. They were blue, like mine, only brighter. She said her name was Gri, short for Agrippa. She saw that I was cold and she knelt to my level and hugged me. Her body felt warm, but too warm like the way your hands might after holding freshly brewed coffee. I didn't notice I was dry until I was laid in an equally dry bed and already falling asleep."

She doesn't ask if he thought it a dream. "You weren't afraid?" she asks instead.

He shakes his head. "I just assumed she was someone from the neighborhood I neglected to meet. My hometown, Clove, is a community of retired huntsmen surrounded by their farmlands, and everyone outside of it knew not to mess with huntsman families. If anything, we kept giving passersby the spooks. Cause of that, I was taught to be friendly, not wary of strangers."

"Hm," she sounds thoughtfully. "That explains a few things, actually."

"Really? Like what?"

"Well, just one thing. Ruby told me how you two met. You told her that strangers are just friends you haven't met yet. Thought you might've even been a little sketchy until I saw you myself. Seemed like the kind of guy who'd meet her in the middle. Vomit and all."

"Heh, I'm glad we hit it off. Ruby's a good friend."

"She makes a better sister," she says, winking.

"I suppose I'll find that out eventually, huh?" He gives her a suggestive grin.

"Eh?"

His grin drops. "Y'know, cause she'll be my sister-in-law if we…" He rolls his hands.

"Uh… Oh. Oh! You were flirting! Damn it, I missed my chance!'

He laughs because she seems genuinely upset. She decides that pouting is for suckers and proceeds to bite his neck. This time he bites back.

-0-

They wake up with the hickeys still on their necks and they opt to leave it there for all to see. The reactions from their peers at Beacon are interesting, and they take it as sufficient proof enough for everyone that they're an item. No one bothers asking about them after that.

When the week comes to an end, Pyrrha promises that they can pay her back for covering for the car's down payment and that – by the time they get back from Patch – that it'll be in the apartment's designated parking spot. Only slightly used cause, of course, she's going to cruise in it with Sun when he flies back to the city tomorrow.

They're surprised when Jaune and not Yang is the one that makes them vow to clean the stains. Yang is very proud of him.

On the pier, they hug their friends goodbye and Ruby promises to catch up once she's done meeting someone important from Mistral as per the headmaster's instruction. She says she can't tell them why she's nervous. They don't pry and tell her they'll listen when she's ready.

Jaune, also, promises not to look at her baby pictures (until she's there, he doesn't say).

Once they're in transit on the ferry, he tries to straighten out a crease in Yang's leather jacket. The shard of fire dust in a cup of water is his attempt to steam it straight. He spends the time talking about his mom's home remedies and his dad's jury rigging. She answers with talk of Summer's garden that her dad and uncle tend to. He scoffs at the idea of Qrow gardening but admits that it makes sense.

With Jaune busying himself, Yang wonders if things will stay this way. If all they have to worry about is down payments, creases, spoiled lobsters, and baby names. That all the big problems, like her mother's abandonment and his actual, biological son, might rear themselves instead and come back to haunt them in devastating ways. But just before any doubt sinks in, he holds her hand from his perch on the floor. He kisses her knee and eyes her from over her lap.

"Whatever it is," he says, squinting. Thinking of what else to add but settles with, "It doesn't matter whatever it is…"

She is prepared to eat up anything he offers. That he'll be there for her, that they'll work it out somehow, that he'll banish any ill thought or doubt, but he says none of those things. Instead, he leans up and kisses her – tender and brief – on the lips.

She blinks. "What are you saying yes to this time?" She's so bewildered that she doesn't even know why she asks such a thing.

"You," he answers anyway. "All of you. I can't fix everything and I can't right every wrong, but I'll take you as you are, or whatever you'll become. Even if you're in pieces. Even if you stop loving me. I don't have be your boyfriend to be with you every step of the way."

It's clear, then, that Jaune's been dealing with doubts of his own. Yang swallows as things bubble to the surface before she blinks a few times and…

"I love you," she says, and she realizes that it's the first time she has said it.

-0-

Down the line, she remembers this moment most vividly of her trip to Patch that one Autumn afternoon. The uncomfortable smell of sea water and steam off a heated cup, the rock of the ferry that forces Jaune to swallow a pill and drops a dozen more just to stop from hurling, and the way her shorts nearly catch fire from the dust shard spilling onto her lap.

Cause then he's stable and she's got a change of clothes (the small fire charred the color in an uncomfortable spot), and they try for the overpriced food court a floor above to mask the smell of all the water in almost lousy, reheated pizza.

The boatman told them that change is tumultuous, and that screwing up in the middle of growing their new shell is almost inevitable. Maybe they won't fit quite so well in their new shell, and maybe they'll take a few cuts and scrapes before they settle comfortably in their own skin, and maybe an old wound might not quite go away and leave them vulnerable there forever…

…but even if so, they decide – after a toast with pizza that tastes like the box it came in – that they'll always have these beautiful little imperfections, and that they can be ugly, squishy lobsters together.