#real talk we normally move within an hour radius of our old place

[mrghostrat]

dawn of the final day: 21 hours remain

streaming is dumb. tech friends rate my disassembly setup 🤪✌️

can’t even sit down properly cause this fuckin oaf is EVERYWHERE

[mackeydoodledoo]

Twice the Chaos: Chapter 1

Pairing: Rosalie Hale x (Fem!DemonHybrid)OC: Pandora Barlowe

Summary: You were only passing through. You had nowhere to go; you were the spawn of Satan himself. There was no place in the world for you. Until you met a blonde vampire. 

Warnings: Parental Abandonment, Depression, Chaotic Life

A/n: Listen... I’m just tryna see something here...

Key: Bold/Italics = Telepathic Conversation/Thoughts

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Your mother had left you when you were of age; not wanting to take care of a freak. That was how your mother always referred to you. Your Father? He was never around. Since being left out into the streets, life has been absolute chaos. You try to make a living for yourself; but you began developing new features.

“I’m sorry, we can no longer have you be working at our establishment,” The owner comes up to you

You were just trying to clean tables; next was you getting fired?

“What? Why? I haven’t violated any of your rules,” You try to counter-argue, “More so, I’ve been trying to not violate them...”

“Your... Vibe... Everyone’s giving us weird looks... It’d be better if you no longer worked here,” He doesn’t budge

You storm out of your former workplace. 

That is IT! I’m done! 

You try running your hands through your hair but you felt something knock against your fingertips. 

Stubs?! That can’t be... 

You saw something move from the bottom corner of your eye. 

A tail?! What the absolute hell is happening?

You run off to the woods in order to avoid getting any further attention from humans. You did everything... Just simply trying to get through like at the age of 18. Clearly it wasn’t going to happen... 

You are beginning to become like me...

Who said that?! 

You were beginning to freak out.

Your father...

What are you talking about?! My dad was never around! He could be dead for all I know and care!

You don’t get it do you?... I am your father...

Father? 

You were sure your father just ran off with another woman. But, it wasn’t logically possible to have someone telepathically speak to you. 

Why am I going to believe some voice in my head that’s never been around until now?! 

You just try to get the same voice out of your head.

You’re like me... You can come home. You won’t have to worry about being judged here...

Home?! My mother threw me out as soon as I turned 18... Since then I couldn’t even keep a single job afloat without anyone that comes within my radius getting me fired because of my “bad vibes”! Well, look at it this way-

No! Face it! There’s no place for me!!!!! Heaven or Hell? Doesn’t matter... There’s no damn place for a freak like me...

The voice in your head ceased then. But, the development of new features hadn’t. Your stubs? Grew into small horns. Tail? Resembled a Demon’s tail. Pointed end and everything.. It’s been months since you had your last job... Anyone really. You use a beanie to cover your horns and you shove your tail into your pants or jacket; whichever was comfortable. You mysteriously was still stable enough to create your own little place in the woods. But, it was still depressing for you. You still thought about how your mother abandoned you, getting fired just because of the vibes you give off, despite trying to be a normal human.

“Why me?...” You ask yourself, “Why me?....”

You look up as soon as you felt a single raindrop fall. 

I need a new tarp... But, I’m not in for going back into town... They wouldn’t eve just as so sell me a new tarp... Whatever I guess...

You had passed out while the rain was going on. However, when you open your eyes, you were expected to feel wet. But, you felt warm. You look up to see a brand new tarp draped over your small hideout and you look back down to see a Sherpa-lined blanket engulfing you in warmth. 

Who?...

“Got me these?...” You ask yourself

You crawl out of the hideout and try to look around the woods to see if there was anyone else that had been camping out. But, no such people were there. You scoff but felt thankful that someone was sympathetic enough to give you a whole new tarp to go over your head and a blanket. 

Fortunately it had stopped raining by the time you went out to go fishing to get your fill for the day. To be honest, it didn’t feel so bad when you would be out fishing, you found a big enough lake to see the sun rise and set over the horizon, you were able to catch a handful of fish to get you through each day. 

I see you’ve grown accustomed to living on your own... Nice job kiddo.

What did I say about coming out to “chat”? Don’t try and persuade me to “Come home”.

I’m not. I’m just checking in on you. You claim that there’s no place for you here... Yet, you’ve made a small place for yourself?

Might as well be somewhere off the grid. 

Not to that once blondie...

A blondie?... Who?...

Not sure, but that new tarp and blanket? That’s from her.... She’s been coming nearly every night...

You watch me sleep?...

I do it to protect you so you could sleep. 

Don’t try and act like my dad... I’m fine without him.... 

You still don’t believe me?..

Still haven’t seen you face to face. 

You wouldn’t want to see me face to face....

Good, we’re on the same page then. Don’t think I’d want to meet my old man anyway...

Once dusk had hit, you were putting out a firepit you had set up to cook the fish you had caught not too long before. 

I got you kiddo. Go ahead and sleep.

I said don’t treat me like you’re trying to be like my dad. I never knew him anyway... 

You take the blanket and use a couple of your flannels as a pillow.

Goodnight...

Night.

The same old routine persisted. You felt the off-putting vibes on how you were able to be this stable, especially living in an unused shed of all places that was clearly in a state of decay. 

I think that blondie has taken a liking to you.

She’s still in question? She doesn’t even know me... How could you know?

When she would come check on you, just last night she was lying next to you. I know because she’s been visiting every night. 

And she can’t see you?

No one can. 

That’s a ‘shocker’... But can she not hear you?...

Only you and myself.

“Weird...” You take a deep breath as you sit against the tree 

You were kind of fishing from sitting on a tree branch, decently high from the ground. 

You’ve thought about the last several nights you were sleeping in your little hideout space. You would open your eyes, but still be half asleep. As you were half awake and half asleep; you could have sworn you felt an arm hooked around your waistline. But you don’t think anything of it as you pass right back out. The feeling would be gone in the morning. 

You really think there is someone?

She’s come every night. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be taken to where she lives.

Out here? In the middle of nowhere? I doubt it.. 

Like clockwork, you set up your makeshift flannel pillow and lay across the old tarp you decided to use as a covering form the molding hardwood floor.

You open your eyes and realize the cold morning feeling is no longer around. Your eyes begin adjusting to so much light coming into the room.

“You’re awake now?” A feminine voice asks you

You were startled. Startled to the point where you fell off the bed. You groan at the impact. Trying to gain your vision back, a figure comes walking over to you. You immediately sit up and begin backing away.

“You-you don’t wanna be near me,” You say, almost in a drunken state, “I’m no good around people...”

“Says who?” She asks

“Says the many people that have fired me from jobs because of the vibes I give off,” You groan when you feel the wall against your back

“Well, they just go by the book cover,” She says, helping you back into bed, “You should lay down... You hit your head there pretty hard.”

In your still blurred vision; the woman’s hair was brunette. 

That isn’t her... 

But, she isn’t giving off any bad vibes...

I’ll be the judge of that...

You try to sit up again but a hand is gently pressed against your shoulder.

“My daughter will be here any minute to check on you,” She says, calmly, “You should thank her when you have the chance... She felt miserable watching you every night.”

She... Felt miserable?...

See? She does like you.

But, she still barely knows me. I don’t even know her name and vice versa. 

That could change here.

Will you just stop talking?....

The next time you open your eyes, your vision slowly coming together; you saw a faint color of blonde. 

Could it be?...

“I told you you shouldn’t have brought that... Thing in here. She’ll get us all killed,” A male voice tries to persuade the blonde

“I couldn’t just leave her there,” She argues, “She was miserable. Carlisle and Esme already said she could stay here under my care.”

“If you get us killed it’s your fault,” He replies

You hear him storm out of the room. 

“You’re awake for real now?” She sits at the bedside

“Where?-” You ask, trying to sit up

“My family estate,” She explains

“My-my stuff, some of my stuff-” You begin freaking out

“Already taken care of,” She slightly smiles

You sit up from the lush bedsheets, taking deep breathes as you try to wrap your head around the last several hours.

“How long was I out?” You ask the blonde

“Several hours,” She answers, “I continuously checked on you... You were... Crying, tossing and turning, talked in your sleep...”

“Oh? What about?” You ask

“Does... ‘Why me?...’, ‘What am I?...’ Ring a bell?” She asks

It does for me.

Shut up. 

“I may have had those kinds of panic attacks while I slept...” You explains, “Which is why I look like shit right?..”

“I was going to say that you’ve slept for so long,” She says, cocking an eyebrow at you, “But if you think that too than you do you.”

It was an awkward silence for the both of you. You didn’t know what to make of this blondie.

I like her.

I said shut up. 

What? She’s pretty, she’s looked after you the last serval nights.

That doesn’t mean she’s my soulmate or anything... We barely know each other, let alone each others’ names.

“My name’s Rosalie Hale,” the blondie answers

“Huh?” You ask, removing the bedsheets from your legs

“You... Didn’t know my name so... Thought I’d tell you,” She says, “Now, you must be hungry.”

“Yeah,” You say, in a suspicious tone, “Lead the way blondie.”

“It’s Rosalie,” She corrects you

“Alright blondie,” You continue using that nickname

Rosalie turns to you to try and hit you. You easily block her arm with yours. For the first time since childhood, you laughed. A genuine laugh had come out of your mouth. You stopped dead in your tracks; making Rosalie turn to you.

“You okay?” she asks, walking up to you

A chill runs up your spine as you feel her gentle touch against your forearm. You look back at her with a slight surprise. But, Rosalie didn’t seem phased by your sudden change in expression.

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I haven’t laughed in awhile... It’s.. Been a very long time.”

“How long is a long time?” She asks

“Probably when I was a little kid...” You sigh, “Since then, I’ve never really learned to smile, laugh or experience any sort of positive thing...”

“I’m so sorry,” She says, her expression changing to concern, “Well, what matters most is that you now have an actual roof over your head. You are under my care now.”

“You- don’t do me any favors blondie!” You try to protest

“Too late!” She smiles, letting out a small giggle

Ooooh, I do like her.

Aren’t you a fire spirit or something? Lay off buddy.

Oh we getting jealous now huh? 

What?!- No! You aren’t physically here, so that means you can’t have blondie.

So you can?

That’s not what I’m saying- you know what, shut your trap!

“Your friend there is fond of me I see,” Rosalie blushes

“What? Him?” You ask, “You... Can hear him?”

“He’s in your head no?” She asks you

“Well, yes but- how can you know that?” You ask

“Let’s just say I’m full of surprises,” She smirks 

You watch her walk off into the kitchen as you make eye contact with what looked to be her family members. 

“I hope you’re well rested now sweetheart,” A brunette speaks

“That’s the adoptive mother and father; Carlisle and Esme,” Rosalie explains to you

“I’m sorry you have had a tough time these past few months,” Carlisle says, “But, you are more than welcome here.”

“Oh, just at least I can get back up on my feet,” You say, bashfully, “I wouldn’t want to take up any more space than I already have..”

“Nonsense!” A male voice enthusiastically says

Your feet lose contact with the ground. You let out a yelp as you try to get a vision of who had just grabbed you.

“That is my brother... Emmett Cullen,” Rosalie scoffs, “He’s a little bit... Chaotic..”

“Chaotic is my middle name,” He jokes as he sets you right back onto the ground

“Four of our other kids are somewhere around...” Carlisle explains, “Oh, they must be out hunting. You’ll see them when you see them.”

“Thank you again,” You say

Quite a family...

You’re telling me...

After you had gotten a proper meal for the first time in months, you found yourself in the library. You don’t really read that often anymore as you have come to the conclusion that it would take you a century to read a single book. 

“Looking for something in particular?” Rosalie asks from the doorway

“To be honest... No,” You answer, “I guess I’ve just been wandering aimlessly. Never really been in a house this... Spacious..”

It’ll be much more spacious when you come live with me.

Like I said before. You are not my father and don’t try to have me come to wherever the hell it is that you live in.. Not a chance..

“You don’t get along with your dad very well?” Rosalie asks

“Never knew him...” You sigh, looking out to the forestry that surrounded the estate, “My mother said he left as soon as I was born...”

“Hey, before you go on, do you... Want to talk about it elsewhere?” She asks, placing her palm over your upper arm

“That would be nice,” You slightly smile

“I know a place,” Rosalie smiles

In one swift motion, Rosalie hoists you over her shoulder.

“You better hold on leech,” Rosalie teases

“That should be ME telling you that,” You nervously chuckle

Rosalie hops out of an open window; breaking into an inhuman speed. You weren’t sure where to hold on along Rosalie’s clothing without touching an area where Rosalie wouldn’t want you to touch her. So you just hang over her shoulder. Almost like a heavy weight.

“You doing okay?” Rosalie asks

“Yep!” You sort of lie, “Good as we can be blondie!”

“We’re almost there!” Rosalie announces to the both of you

Chapter 2

[katsukikitten]

Wholesome Frat AU, Clearly aged up, college au, main characters are Bakugou, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Jiro, Mina, and of course you my dear reader. Sexual themes, mentions of drugs and booze through out.

AHEM

Chapter 1

Denki lies upside down off his bed, staring at his phone when another invite to a party comes through. It's from a classmate he shares notes with and one of the few non toxic dudes on campus. A smile forms on his face, his fingers ready to fly across the screen to confirm his Friday night to be golden and one to remember. 

Or maybe wish to remember as alcohol and maybe some weed numb his senses. 

But then the location comes through, a frat house that's notorious for ignorance and low key rape culture. He turns it down claiming to study and sighs. Staring at his shared four walls from the top bunk. 

"What's going on with you? No one wants you to keep their bed warm tonight?" Sero teases passing him up a beer before starting the next round of his game. Preferring to get buzzed and troll in Apex lobbies than find somewhere to be tonight.  

Their phones buzz at the same time, Kirishima coming through on the group chat. 

Big Red 🦈 : Any plans tonight boys?

Boomboi 💣 : Fuck off, busy. 

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Apex

Zaptos ⚡: got invited to a party but location is sus af. You bro? 

Big Red 🦈 : Yikes 😬 Keepin some ladies safe. Don't like the scene here…

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Same

Zaptos ⚡: Same

Boomboi 💣:  FUCK OFF!

Denki and Sero both smirk at their phones before moving on with their Friday night with small talk of Instagram stories and received risque snapchats. As the beer fridge gets dwindles  their thoughts seem to grow. 

"Okay, listen. Here me out!" Denki says as if Sero would ever come off defensive. He finishes his eighth beer before continuing. 

"What if we started our own frat? Like...like a fucking wholesome one." 

"Dude not only does that sound impossible but what would we call ourselves?" Sero chuckles nursing his seventh beer. Denki pauses for a moment, trying to think of something, anything great. 

"Alpha Kappa Wholesome." He smiles, "Yea that's it!"

Sero laughs from his bottom bunk earning an angry faced Denki to put half of his body over the side of his bed. 

"I'm serious man! We could kick out whoever doesn't match our values. This college is supposed to be about making 'lasting connections' with fellow heroes! How are we supposed to do it when we are cooped up in our tiny dorm!" He gestures to their cramped room. A set of bunk beds and desks with their TV and shared dresser on the far wall. Sero looks around, this sure as hell wasn't like the dorms at UA that's for sure. 

"Okay well two people isn't enough for a frat, man." Sero lets the dream die before it can bloom, running a hand through his raven hair. Denki scrunches up his face before he remembers where his crush stays.  It's as if a light bulb lit up atop his upside down head. He jolts himself falling from the top bunk crashing into the empty beer bottle. They clink in protest but thankfully non break, just roll beneath the bottom bunk. 

"But there is a sorority of only four and we have four friends in our group!" 

Denki decides now is a good time to face time them. Kirishima answers first with a shout that he's gonna step outside, the roaring party and flashing lights die behind the shutting door while Bakugou is illuminated by the light of his screen glaring into the camera while a meek looking girl hides. 

"This better be fucking good." Bakugou growls. 

After an hour and a half of screaming Denki finally convinces Bakugou that sharing a house with the three of them as opposed to a rando was a much better idea. Reminding him that he had done it for three years in highschool surely he could last two more. He agrees but refuses to help argue with the dean meanwhile Kirishima is GLOWING with excitement over the idea formulating with his sober mind the best way to handle the notorious harsh Dean. 

It takes petitions, several meetings and almost til the spring break to come down to this, the final meeting. Bakugou, who has attended every meeting and true to his word has said nothing. Denki nervous as a sinner in church, Sero who's sweating bullets and Kirishima all sit in the room with the board, treasury and the Dean in a final meeting of sorts. 

Kirishima gulps and before he can explain the benefits the frat will have to offer the Dean stops him with a simple show of his hand. Taking a report from the secretary of treasury to look over, he just needed the monetary excuse to back up his favorite word. 

"No." He clears his throat, "Unfortunately funds are too low to be able to support another fraternity." The Dean leaves it at that not even bothering to offer they join something preexisting. 

Three of the four men accept defeat, mentally communicating that they did a good job trying. But the fourth man dreamed of his own room, of his own space to do as he pleased. And all without threat of being charged with murder. Although the fourth man would never admit that the reason he spoke up wasn't totally about the room, it was the look of defeat, anguish on his friends faces that had the room heating up a degree or two and smelling heavily of boiling sugar. 

"Oi, toupee." The hot head let's his seat fall back to all fours, fixing the Dean a withering look, "You said something about not enough money huh?" 

The Dean swallows thickly carefully thinking out his next sentence. 

"Why, Yes its…." Bakugou interrupts before the Dean can even finish his thought. 

"Pretty sure I'm the reason this campus is gonna be swarming with fucking no name extras next year." Katsuki's smile widens as his hand pops, "If you deny this request with the money I'm making you then I'll participate in the university sports festival with another college's across my fucking chest." 

The Dean visibly sweats, Bakugou really was a hard student to land. His brash attitude and unapologetic behavior was popular among the younger generation bringing with it an influx of applicants and donations. It hadn't even been 24 hours since his announcement did it crash the admin and donation site. He panics, not even sure if there is any real estate available on or around campus in order for him to legally allow this fraternity to flourish. As if reading his mind the secretary of grounds offers him a file, an old run down home within a decent walking distance of the main campus. The Dean exhales the breath he didn't realize he was holding. 

"Let's not act so rash. It has just come to my attention that we have some extra funding to be able to purchase a place for you all…" He looks over the file, he hopes this is enough to placate the hot head, "But it will need some old fashioned sweat equity, if we can secure it. The town has been kind enough to offer us first dibs to real estate within a certain radius of campus and if they like our offer you hardworking men will have your 'Alpha Kappa Wholesome home." 

"They better like your offer." Is all Bakugou says before standing, "We get the keys in a month, got it?"

He doesn't give the Dean time to rebuttal, he just leaves while the other shocked three follow suit. It isn't until they are in the courtyard does their excitement hit them all at once.

"HOLY SHIT BAKUBRO ALWAYS COMING IN ON THE FUCKING KLUTCH!" Denki shouts, tackling Bakugou into a hug, Sero and then Kirishima wrap their arms around the yelling hot head who threatens to blow them up. 

"I owe you a fucking drink!" Kirishima shouts lifting the group and twirling them  

"OI OI OI SHITTY HAIR PUT ME DOWN!" 

After that promised drink and a month of waiting the four musketeers stand before their new home. The house is trashed, easily a short sale of a foreclosure as the rent went higher but their wages stayed low. The amount of work to make this place semi decent was going to be astronomical at best. 

Bakugou is thoroughly unimpressed, scoffing as Denki runs up the porch. The vision is clear in the electric blonde's head. The massive porch is clean, with a swing and some chairs, string lights hanging from the wooden ceiling while the half wrapped around, second story porch is draped in endless artificial star light cloaking the house in cozy warmth. 

Dneki opens the front door and plume of dust rushes out around him, the other two follow suit. Taking the steps two at a time as they rush into the house. Harsh garnet stares after them before glancing at their luggage. He decides to leave it all stepping inside. 

Their imaginations run rampant as they stand beneath the large archway to the main living room while Bakugou begins to second guess opening his mouth. That or getting more money from the Dean. Before displeasure can leave the hot head his friends turn to face him, their eyes shining and smiles stretched wide, wide enough it begins to hurt Bakugou's own cheeks. They encourage him to step into the home more, telling him what will go where. For a moment his smile is soft, tender as he looks at these three idiots seeing the bright side of everything before he steels back into his normal self.

"Oi! Quick acting all googly eyed. We've got a lot of work to do and a lot of fucking money to raise." 

The four friends spend majority of their spring term picking rooms and doing basic cleaning. Bringing only one of the two full bathrooms up to par, trying their best to keep up with the old big house. Even after all of them picked their rooms there were still three bedrooms and a den with a door left. They brain stormed adding recruits but Bakugou shot the idea down despite Sero being elected the president of the frat. 

Spring boils into summer, bringing with it the promise of cold hard cash. Bake sales and lunch deals thanks to Bakugou's cooking skills brought in a large amount of income, so did the odd jobs Kirishima, Denki, and Sero found themselves doing. Still they find themselves short.

"Shirtless carwash!" Denki announces earning a glare from Bakugou. Kirishima pipes up before the idea is blasted sky high. 

"Think of the money man. The community around here is soccer mom's and freshly graduated college kids and I don't know about yall but when I go for a run or hit up the corner store after a good run I'm being stared at." 

"That's a valid point Bakugou. I've seen how they flock to you for baked goods, they've been staring at your arms and eyes man." Sero adds voting yes to the idea making it three to one. 

Just as Kirishima said, woman and even some men, flock to the area for a car wash. Some even coming back twice in one day! The cash flow is good but still a bit lacking. Denki wipes the sweat from his brow as he wonders how they will get enough to be able to get decent light fixtures and a working fridge in the dorm. Let alone anything aside from a blown up mattress and folding chairs in the living room. He scrolls through his social media on his break and comes across the miracle he has been asking for. 

A lovely summer picture of four women in bikinis, three of them his housemates have lived with before. Mina Ashido, Jiro Kyoka,  Ochako Uraraka, and then there is the new woman, you.

But what makes the picture that much sweeter isn't even the content itself, no it's that gorgeous caption just beneath it. 

"BASIC BITCH CAR WASH! Help us raise money for an apartment so our sorority doesn't get disbanded!" 

An idea formulates in the electric blondes head so quickly he thinks sparks fly from his ears. A dangerous smile forms on Denki Kaminari's lips. 

[imurlilkitten]

This was not what I was expecting. After three songs I wasn’t expecting a genre change. It was a nice change of pace but it was not what I was expecting.

The guitar echoed through my room, this was not something I would typically listen to but I still couldn’t shut it off. A voice inside of me told me to keep listening.

That voice inside of me was trying to kill me. This was another song that wasn’t about me. My eyes were not blue. Harry’s eyes were not blue. Which means, he was writing about someone that was not me. He was writing about someone with blue eyes.

Maybe it was the same person, I’m really hoping it was. I was hoping that he hadn’t told two other girls that they were the type of girls people wrote songs about. It hurt enough to know he told one.

“It’s not you and it’s not me.” sarcastic laughter fell from my lips.

Damn right.

I don’t know about him, but I was not the same girl that he had dated months ago.

“Are you sure about this..” the hair dresser asked cautiously, I nodded. I was damn sure about this.

Harry and I had been separated for a month, and I was losing my mind. Every single thing I saw reminded me of him. If a person spoke a certain way or wore something I think he would, I would have to fight back tears.

Everywhere I went, I saw him. I saw us. The grocery store. The mall. Hell, even in my own best friend’s house. I was reminded of us. Little memories of how we would use to be were everywhere. It was torture.

Even when I looked in the mirror.

I would catch a glimpse of myself and see his hands on me. How his fingers would twirl in my long hair or pull it back in his fists. I couldn’t stand it. So I decided if I was going to start moving on, I needed to change.

First, I stopped going anywhere we had spent time together. Bars. Restaurants. Clothing stores. Everywhere. If we had stepped foot in it together, I no longer knew that place existed. Even if it cost me more money to travel to places that weren’t within a five mile radius of where I lived, it was better for me mentally.

Second, I started apartment hunting. I loved Lily with my entire heart and would love to be her roommate forever, but I knew that she wouldn’t uproot with me. I wanted to stay in New York but I couldn’t stay with her. We had lived with her for a month, the guest room was filled with him. Even if he wasn’t there, I could smell his cologne. I could feel his arms wrap around me when I slept in bed alone. I couldn’t be there much longer.

And now, came my appearance which I was currently working on. I had been walking to my new grocery store, which was an extra six blocks from my old one. I wasn’t familiar with the neighborhood yet, but I caught my reflection in a passing store window. I saw myself, my hair down around my shoulders. Harry loved my hair. He loved that it was long, he loved how my dark locks made the green in my eyes pop.

I knew he wasn’t there, but I could feel him. I could hear his voice whispering to me, telling me I looked beautiful. It felt so real, it sent a shiver down my spine. My eyes involuntarily closing.

I couldn’t continue living like this, I wanted to forget. I immediately whipped out my phone, googling the nearest salon in walking distance. I made it there within minutes, demanding a stylist the second I walked in the door.

“This is a big change, have you thought it through?” she asked, her finger pulling my hair to my back. “Not at all.” I answered honestly. She sighed, “Must’ve been bad.” she said, nodding with her eyes locked to mine in the mirror. I knew was she was talking about, my face gave it all away. She knew exactly why I was doing this.

“It was.” I sighed, my eyes dropping as her hands found my shoulders. “How long has it been?” she questioned, wrapping a cape around my front. “About a month.”

“So it’s still fresh.” she said mainly to herself, she moved so that her face was resting beside mine. I looked back to the mirror, her eyes glued to me. “Don’t worry, when I’m done with you you’ll be ready to get back out there and forget all about him.”

I mustered up the best smile I could and prayed she’d be right.

My fingers pinched at my hair. It was slightly grown out since then, it reaching a little past my shoulders. It had taken six hours to get it to the blonde we agreed on, but it was worth it. I left feeling like a new woman.

I barely recognized myself when I woke up the next morning. People I knew were pleasantly surprised, saying I looked so much different. That’s what I had wanted. I wanted to remove every part of him from me.

I wanted a new me.

I thought this would help, but after a week I had just felt disappointed. I still saw him in me. I still saw him in everything. We were different but still the same. As much as I had wanted us to be completely different people. We were still the same, just not together like we use to be.

“We’re not who we use to be.” I mumbled, my mouth crammed to the brim with food. Harry turned to me, his eyebrows caught together with a look that insisted I go on.

“It’s a Friday night, and we’re sitting on the kitchen floor eating cold mashed potatoes.” I tried to laugh but I feared something would spill from my lips. He nodded, “I’m fine with this.”

“If you would’ve told me months ago that this is how we would spend our weekends together, I would’ve laughed in your face.” I added, my head shaking. He lifted his spoon to his lips, his eyes scanning the kitchen.

“I don’t see anything wrong with this.” he said before stuffing his face with a shrug.

I took in our situation, both of us facing one another, sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor. A bowl of potatoes separating us. I was wearing one of his shirts, on accident, I thought it was mine but the length of it told me it wasn’t. He didn’t mind, he loved seeing me in his clothes.

His hair was down, his bangs falling onto his forehead as opposed to how they were always styled up. I loved when he looked like this, when he looked effortlessly handsome. His graphic tee hanging low on his collarbones as his sweatpants clung to his legs in all the right places.

“Months ago we would be in some secluded place of a busy bar, doing things God would not approve of.” he chuckled at his own words. “We were such sinners back then.” I agreed, smiling over to him before scooping up more potatoes.

The fridge had been open, in case we needed to grab more food. The light of it paling the room, the two of us sitting in front of it.

“You look absolutely beautiful.” he whispered, to which I laughed.

“Thanks.” I said, my mouth full.

“I mean it. Everyday when I wake up and see you, I can’t help but think of how truly blessed I am. You’re so beautiful every second of every day.” he gushed, his hand reaching between us to wrap around the side of my neck. “I love you so much, Brooklyn.”

I swallowed, my hand moving to ghost his. “You’ve gotten so sappy in these past months.” I joked to which he playfully shoved me. “Get fucked, I was being cute and you ruined it.” he laughed, his spoon filling with more potatoes.

I shifted around to lay into his side, “I know, babe. I was kidding. I love you too.” My head rested in the crook of his neck, his face slightly turning to place his lips on my forehead.

My hands came up to his chest, his breathing was normal, but his heart was racing. “You nervous?” I joked, and he laughed while shaking his head. “You’re the only girl who can get my heartbeat racing just by touching me. It’s like I don’t have one until you’re near.” I swooned, clutching to him harder. He always knew what to say.

“If you’re really craving the old days, I can put on some real pants and we can go out for a few hours.” he suggested, distracting me a little from his kind words, tilting his head down to look at me.

I shook my head, taking in his appearance. I moved to see his face, his eyes hypnotizing me as I thought about how much I really loved everything about him. How little moments like this were the things I really appreciated.

“This is all I really need.”

The wine washed away the memory of that night, replacing the taste of potatoes with the sting of the alcohol.

I needed him. I needed him like I needed him that night. I didn’t care if this song was about me or not, I needed Harry.

“Stop laughing this is serious business.” he said, his voice stern as he looked to my grinning face. I cleared my throat, nodding as my face fell straight.

It had been exactly two months since Harry and I have been dating, so we decided to indulge in alcohol. Which led us to a closed park at nearly three in the morning, where we stood by the swings. One of his arms wrapped around the back of my waist as his other clutched my hand at our sides.

My tipsy brain consumed me, laughs falling from my mouth before I had a chance to sustain them. He scoffed down at me, “We’ll never be prepared for the talent show.” he groaned, his body falling limp.

We decided to walk home, both of us nowhere near sober so we knew driving back wasn’t an option. Our arms were stuck to each other’s bodies, using one another as crutches to drunkenly stumble home. Which led us to the park.

It was a park we had always gone by, never paying much attention to it. However, on this night, it was all I could focus on as we passed. Noticing how the pond next to it looked somewhat like the location in Dirty Dancing where Patrick Swayze was trying to teach Baby how to do the big lift.

I mistakenly mentioned this to Harry, mainly as a passing comment, but as soon as his eyes locked with the pond, his face lit up. “I know how to do the lift.” he beamed, his eyebrows wiggling as he looked down at me. I shook my head, already knowing what he was suggesting. “No.” I put my foot down, knowing this would not end well.

And yet, here I was, standing across from him in said park, practicing the dance from Dirty Dancing that Harry knew by memory for some reason.

I decided it was best not to question it.

“C'mon, we can do this.” he cheered, moving back from where we were standing to position himself a few feet away from me. “We really can’t.” I laughed, my smile feeling as if it was carved into my face at this point.

“Don’t talk like that! Nobody puts Baby in a corner.” he yelled, the determination on his face only making me laugh harder. “Harry, we’re on a hard surface. I may be drunk, but I can still feel if my bones break.” I fought, only seeing this end badly.

He sighed, looking off to the side of where we were standing. His sadness visible even in the moonlight. He continued to look off, his slump shoulders straightening as his head snapped back to me. He began to inch closer, walking as if he was on ice.

“Then maybe..” he started, taking another step. “We should..” he continued, his body halfway to where I stood. I was suspicious, he was too calm. “Take this elsewhere.” he finished, to which my eyes widened.

I looked over to where he was staring, the pond. “No! No! No! No!” I screamed, automatically fleeing from where he was and off towards the street. “Oh no you don’t!” he yelled, his speed doubling.

His legs were far longer than mine so it didn’t take him long to wrapped his arms around my waist. I kicked my legs, “Harry, no!” I protested as he spun me around, having no difficulty throwing me over his shoulder as I struggled against him. “Harry, yes.” he stated smugly as he carried me towards the water.

“You’re drunk! You’re not thinking this through!” I tried to reason, but it was no use. Once he had his mind set on something, he would go through with it. “Probably not, but here we go.” he said before flinging me into the pond.

I rushed to reach back to the surface, my entire body freezing. When I finally caught my breath I saw him on dry land, laughing. His arms wrapped around his stomach as he cackled. “HAROLD!” I screeched, my wet hair stuck to the front of my face.

Within seconds he was in the water beside me, after he had cannon balled into the pond. He sprung back to his feet, his hair flat and pushed away from his face as a smile danced on his lips.

He moved over to wrap his arms around me, I was struggling to keep afloat while he could practically stand on the bottom of the pond floor. He lifted me, moving my legs to wrap around his waist.

I couldn’t be mad at him, not when he looked like this. His eyes were focused on my lips as he pushed back my hair, revealing my face to him. “Even like this, you’re breathtaking.” he whispered, his hand lingering at the side of my head.

The moonlight reflected off of the water, his face illuminated only by the night sky. He looked incredible. A smile tugged at both of our lips as he moved one hand to the small of my back, pulling me into him. Our lips crashing against each other’s. Both of our breaths catching as our mouths moved together.

When we pulled back he continued to stare at my lips, a smile tugging on both of our features. “You look so beautiful. You put the moon to shame.” he gushed, and my happiness radiated off of me. He was my everything.

“Now.” he said, his eyes locking with mine. “Let’s get this lift down.”

I grabbed my phone, my fingers sloppily unlocking it as I realized that this was the alcohol’s doing. I couldn’t talk to him, he moved on.

No, I was not doing this. I was not calling Harry. It would only end poorly on my behalf, but I still couldn’t help myself from searching his number in my contacts.

I had blocked it a month or two back, I couldn’t stand ignoring him. I had never wanted to ignore him, but it was for the best. It was for him. He needed to move on, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist him for long.

I loved him.

His picture was the same one that would pop up on my screen for months. His head was squished between his hands, his smile so wide that it consumed half of his face. He was sitting across from me in a restaurant, one where we sat outside where the sunset behind him slightly backlit his figure. It was my favorite photo of him.

His name was still “H” in my phone, and I could never change it from that. We had been so close, such a constant in each other’s lives that I could never put him formally in my phone. It didn’t feel right. I couldn’t do that to him.

I laughed despite myself, more so at myself. After all the things I had put him through, changing his name in my phone was the one thing I COULDN’T do to him. I was so pathetic.

Tears filled my eyes, the song nearing its end as I went to the bottom of his contact. My finger tapping against the words “unblock”. I won’t let myself call him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have it so he could call me if he really wanted to.

I knew he wouldn’t, he moved on. Didn’t stop me from thinking it though.

A vibration in my hand alarmed me, my heart stopping as I saw his name flash across my screen. This was not happening.

My heart felt as if it was going to escape through my mouth, my breath hitching as my phone vibrated again. His name flashing once more. I pulled down my notifications screen, seeing his name with the number two next to it.

With hesitant fingers, I clicked on it. Tears streaming as I saw his words.

The message was from two months ago, it had to be a day or two after I had blocked him. The time stamp read three in the morning, knowing he was probably having a rough night seeing how he usually only stayed up later if he was drinking or upset. His words sloppy, so I assumed he was drunk when he sent them.

His texts haunted me as the song finished, my mind not being able to believe what I was reading.

“Not a dayy goes by where I don’t mmiss you, kitten”

“I know youre probbably sick of mee, but im just trying to remmember how it feels to have a heartbeat”

GIVE ME FEEDBACK. LEMME KNOW HOW YOU ALL FEEL. DO YOU LIKE? DO YOU NOT LIKE? LEMME KNOW!

[dracolord1208]

Remembrance

Dracolord1208

AO3

Summary:

Even after being married to Symmetra for a few months Junkrat still has kept a few secrets from Symmetra some even from himself. With their upcoming trip to Australia Symmetra will learn even more about her husband and his family.

DAY 5 Family

“Don’t look back honey. Keep running okay. No matter what happens keep moving! Don’t worry about me and your father we will be okay. Just keep running until you hit the sand. Okay? You have to be strong. Promise me Jamison. I need you to promise me take your brother and, ”

The world went silent as the sky was filled with light.

Junkrat jumped up completely at attention as he woke up taking in the environment before he relaxed. He had the dream again. The only sane dream he had left in his mind. The dream at this point felt foreign to his normal nightmares. A memory from so long ago that even now Junkrat was uncertain it was even real.

Junkrat began to study the room to ground himself in reality further. The sun was starting to peek through the window so he had to have had at least six hours of sleep which would explain the nightmare. Judging by the décor of the room he was in Satya’s room. Looking to his left confirmed this with Symmetra’s sleeping body.

“You okay, Jamie?” Even in her groggy morning state, Satya was able to tell that Jamison was dealing with something.

“Yeah, just had that dream again. So here I am trying to figure out what’s real and what’s a dream and this drop dead gorgeous girl is in bed with me and is trying to say she’s my wife, and if someone told me it was a dream I wouldn’t doubt them for a second.”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too. It’s too early for your sweet talking, though. At least let me brush my teeth first.”

“Nope. Time for morning kisses.”

Symmetra was immediately awake and was unsuccessfully trying to push Junkrat away before he could smother her with kisses. His laugh was contagious as the two quickly collapsed into a laughing pile on the bed.

“So, want to talk about your dream?”

“Not yet. I need to get my head around it for a bit. Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Symmetra responded as she brought Jamison into another kiss.

The two eventually decided to start the day. Although Junkrat and Symmetra were married for the last four months not much changed when it came to their living conditions. When they got married Overwatch offered to move them to one of the larger family orientated dorms but they refused. Junkrat, however, did find himself sleeping in Satya’s room more often than his own. After preparing breakfast the two heading out to complete their task for the day.

When the couple met for lunch Jamison had a somber look on his face.

“Is everything alright, Jamie?”

“Yeah well. Um. Would you be able to take some time off of work for a while?”

“How long?”

“About a week.”

Symmetra calculated her remaining vacation hours while Junkrat waited patiently. “I believe that I can work that out. Why?”

“I was hoping we could visit my family. Think of it like a second smaller honeymoon.”

Symmetra was caught off guard at this since the topic of Junkrat’s family was typically ignored. Junkrat would often deflect it with conflicting stories of their locations. When Satya was making the guest list, they both had no direct family to invite, so Symmetra was thoroughly surprised.

“That would be an entertaining adventure.”

“That’s what I thought I’ll get Trace to fly us there in the morning, so we have time so get set up.”

The rest of the day was spent on the phone while packing for the trip. Symmetra and Junkrat took leave from Overwatch and Symmetra had all of her calls be forwarded to her assistant at Vishkar. Symmetra was not sure what to pack for the adventure, so she over packed even with Junkrat’s protest. When the morning came, they were packed up in an orca, and they arrived in Sydney by midday. Symmetra checked them into a nice hotel where they had a lovely lunch at the connected restaurant.

After a day of relaxing and sightseeing, they retired to their hotel for a romantic night alone. In the morning Junkrat explained that they would have to get ready for their trip. The plan was to rent transportation and supplies to drive across most of Australia while avoiding the attention of the Junkers and the authority. Even with that, the trip would only be around two days.

“So why do we have to travel so far?”

“Well Sydney is one of the few cities that didn’t get hit too hard from the omnium, so I figured it would be more fun to make a trip than to have Trace just drop us off.”

Symmetra was enjoying the trip, but the constant assault of sand was souring her mood as time went on. “Where exactly are we going?”

“Small town called Warburton.”

“What’s in Warburton?”

Junkrat’s mood dropped as he recollected the town’s features. “Well, not much now but it’s our first stop.”

Not wanting to push his discomfort she dropped the topic. After camping out, they arrived at what was left of the town by the next morning.

Symmetra didn’t understand why they began to slow down at first. They arrived at what seemed to be a clearing that had some rubble spread within a mile radius, but there were no buildings left standing.

“Jamie? Where are we?”

“Welcome to Warburton. This is where I grew up.” Junkrat pulled the car over and assisted Symmetra in exiting their vehicle. “So this here is the town center. Over to your left, you will find the church.  Over there is the Mily where we got all our groceries. There’s the pool we would go to every day, and over there is the Community Center. The grownups would have meetings and parties there all the time.”

Everywhere that Junkrat pointed there was nothing but piles of rock and wood.

“My dad, he was a pilot he is working over there at the Airport. I remember we would wait in the hanger for him to come back so we could be the first to greet him.”

“We?”

“Me and my brother and …” Junkrat face contracted as his struggled to finish his sentence.

“Well, Mom worked as a police officer. Can you believe it, internationally known criminal’s mother was a cop.” Symmetra quickly rushed to pull Jamison into a hug. “Do you think she would have been disappointed?” Junkrat lost all of this confidence and began to cry.

Symmetra was uncertain what to do. This was the third time she had ever seen him cry. The first being, when she had received an almost fatal blow during a fight before the two of them, were together. The other time was recent during their wedding where he broke out into tears during the ceremony. But this time was the worst time because she didn’t know how to make it better.

“Never. You are a hero Jamison. It might have taken a while to get to where you are now, but you did it.”

“Thank you.” Jamison began to regain his composure, and he began to lead Satya down the street.

“Welcome to Casa de Fawkes.” Junkrat lead Satya to a rubble pile that seemed to be the most house like. “This was my house. This is also where my family is.” Jamison led Symmetra to the backyard of the house where three gravestones were placed.

“Well, here they are well not exactly but close enough. My dad was making supply runs for the resistance when the Omnium went up, so his plane went down somewhere. My mom told us to run and keep running until we hit the desert. Ha. Can you imagine it a kid running until he made it to the Simpson? Two thousand kilos at 7. Ha. We started running the last time I saw her she was facing off with three bots.”

“I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I came back here later with Roadie and we made graves for them even though there are no bodies in them.”

“Who’s the other grave for.”

“My brother. Noah. He was a good kid. Too good in fact he was with me all the way up till Junker town. Then he just bit it. Trusted someone with his water container. He shanked Noah the instant he had the water. Can you imagine that to kill someone after they have already given you what you wanted?”

Symmetra looked up and saw that Junkrat was crying again. She pulled him into a somewhat awkward sideways hug.

“Well, the bastard got a mouth full of my first RIP tire, so that shows him.”

“I am sorry Jamison. I am glad you shared this with me.”

“Thanks for everything Metra. Thanks for eventually giving me a shot.”

“Not a problem.”

“Thanks for also being so stupid as to fall in love with a mess like me.”

Symmetra smacked his arm playfully. “The only thing stupid about me falling in love with you is how long it took.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Eventually, Symmetra started looking around the remnants of the house while Junkrat continued telling her stories.

“So we just run and jump head first into the pool, and my mom was so furious.”

“Junkrat hold up, come over here.” Symmetra motioned him to come over to where she was in the rubble. “Lift this beam.”

“Okay?”  Once Junkrat had lifted the beam a few inches above the ground, Symmetra lifted a disk that was trapped under it.

“Amazing it looks like it works it just needs some power.”

“What you got there?”

“This is an old holodisk. It usually is used for family photos. If I just give it some power, we should be good… and it’s on!”

In Symmetra’s hands now stood an image of a family posing together in front of their house. Junkrat said he was done crying but how was he supposed to feel being shown his late family out of nowhere.

“That’s why you are my dynamite gal.”

“Thank you. Here hold this I have a plan.” Symmetra quickly passed the holodisk to Jamison before she began to put her plan to work.

Symmetra is now having an idea of what the house looked like she started forming a basic wire frame in hard light. Within thirty minutes Symmetra had reconstructed a mere recreation of the house from the image. Junkrat was always impressed by her hard light’s capabilities, but this was by far his favorite creation. Satya, however, was not done the next thing she did go the back yard and create proper gravestones that would be able to stand the test of time.

“I am so glad I married you.”

“I am pleased you enjoy it.”

The two set up camp and began to eat dinner when Symmetra had another question for Junkrat. “So what happened to your sister?”

“My who?”

“Your sister.” Satya looked quizzically at Jamison. “Look. In this picture, you seem to be four or five your brother appears to be a toddler and it seems that your mother is at least five months pregnant. I also found this doll a moment ago.” Satya passed a small knitted toy to Jamison to inspect.

Junkrat only stared at the doll trying to unravel this mystery. “Sister? Did I forget I had a sister?” He started scrubbing through his memories. He began noticing that there was indeed something that he couldn’t place a smudge on his memories that seemed to block something.

“Promise me Jamison. I need you to promise me take your brother and, ” Junkrat was furiously scratching his head when it hit him. “YOUR SISTER.” He suddenly yelled out as his memories started to flood into him again. “Promise me take your brother and, your sister. How? How, how? HOW? How did I forget about Chloe?”

“Is Chloe your sister?”

“Yes, little baby Chloe. Wait what happened to her? Think think think you bastard. What happened to your little sister?” Junkrat began to pace back and forth as he started tearing through his memories in search of the answer.

“The flash happened I grabbed Noah’s arm and pulled him along while I carried Chloe. We stayed on the move for two weeks. We set up camp on the edge of town. I started stealing food to feed us on the edge of the city. I then lost my arm to that blasted omnic trap. I realized that I couldn’t take care of everyone, so I had to do something fast.”

Junkrat body tensed as he remembered what he did. “I gave her away.”

“Oh no.” Symmetra let out a shocked gasp, recoiling from the news.

“No no not like that. Not for money or anything like that I gave her to an orphanage. There was no way they would take in two older kids like Noah and me. So I told he were going to eat with the other kids at the park. So I sneaked us into the orphanage. Then I said I left the food back at camp so I would go and come back. Then me and Noah packed up, and we left for the next city.”

“I am sure you did what you thought was the right thing.”

“I remember telling Noah to suck it up and forget about her, and it would be easier. I guess I took my advice.”

Symmetra did her best to reconcile Junkrat’s new wave of self-loathing. Once Junkrat’s emotions had balanced out Symmetra had an idea.

“Do you remember what orphanage you left her?”

“Maybe. Why?”

“They would probably have records of what happened to her. If she was adopted, then we might be able to find her.”

“You think we could find her?”

“Even if the worst was to have happened, the finding closure should be a priority.”

“Yeah let’s do it. Let’s find Chloe.”

The couple packed the car up and set off to locate the orphanage. Junkrat didn’t remember which orphanage he had left her at so once they arrived in Melbourne they had to ask around. It wasn’t until the third orphanage did they find a clue.

Symmetra was in charge of asking questions while Junkrat was in charge of intercepting the kids on their way to Satya.

“Hello. My name is Satya Vaswani.”

“G’day Satya. How can I help ya? Are you interested in adopting?”

“Unfortunately that is not the goal of today’s visit. I was hoping that you would be able to assist me in finding a lost family member.”

“Oh gosh.”

“Indeed. The women I am searching for was displaced by the war soon after the omnium exploded. Her name was Chloe, and she was left at an orphanage when she was young. I was wondering if you would be able to help me search the records to see if there was any chance she was here.”

“Well we usually do not divulge information about our children, let me grab the manager and see if she could help you.”

The clerk left the counter, hopefully, to get the manager so she could help, looking out the window to her right she saw that Jamison was covered in curious children. It seemed that he was giving them a magic show with more pyrotechnics than she would prefer, but the kids were enjoying it.

“G’day. Pleased to meet you my assistant tells me that you are looking for a family member.”

“Yes. My name is Satya Vaswani, and I am looking for a Chloe Fawkes, although if she was adopted, I suppose there is a chance that she changed her name.”

The manager looked quizzically at Satya. “How old would she be?”

“Well from my understanding she was young when the omnium exploded. Then she would be in her early to mid-twenties.”

“Why are you looking for her?”

“Well, that is a personal matter that I don’t believe I have to share with you.”

The manager analyzed Symmetra carefully. “My name is Chloe Fawkes.”

Symmetra stared at the women in front of her. She was the right age; she had the same type of chaotic blonde hair that Jamison had. The feature that was most defining was her golden eyes. Her eyes that seemed to burn with the same level of explosive chaos that Junkrat had yet her eyes didn’t hold the same burdens that he had.

“Were you left here when you were young?”

“Yes, my awful brother decided that he was better off without me, so he abandoned me here. I then had to live here for the next 16 years. Then I started working here. Now I run the place.”

“Oh no. He didn’t abandon you. He left you here because he wanted you to be safe.”

“How would you know my brothers are dead?”

“Funny story about that. One of your brothers didn't die, and I am in fact married to him.”

Chloe looked at Satya like she was her mad husband.

“Jamie come in here.” Responding to her call, Junkrat finished up with the kids and headed inside.

“G’day. So what’s up did we find my Lil sis?”

Chloe just stared at the person before her; Junkrat was in a disguise so he wouldn’t be recognized.

“Jamie?”

“Ah yes. The name’s Jamison Fawkes, I am looking for my sister Chloe.”

“What happened to her?”

“Well after I lost my arm I couldn’t take care of both her and my brother Noah, so I left her at an orphanage so she would have a better life.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Yeah I wish I left Noah with her. I wish that he didn’t have to fight like we did.”

“What happened to Noah?” Chloe’s voice was beginning to crack.

“Well, he had a bad crossing with the Junkers. They then had a worst crossing with me, but I wish I were able to save him.”

“Noah’s dead?”

“Yeah but came back from his grave.”

“You buried him. Yeah, he is with the rest of the family right now. Never got your name.”

“Chloe. Chloe Fawkes.”

Junkrat responded to the news like he had been slapped across the face. He turned to Satya in hopes of her confirming the news. A single nod was enough to let him know that they found her.

“You’re alive!” Junkrat then proceeded to vault over the counter and pull her up into a giant bear hug. “I was going to bury you.”

Chloe realized that she was missing a part of the conversation and dismissed it embracing the hug further.

The three of them decided to talk throughout the rest of the day. They explained that Junkrat was the infamous Junkrat and that he was working for Overwatch. Symmetra was properly introduced to Chloe as Junkrat’s wife. Chloe informed them about her life and all of her achievements.

Junkrat and Symmetra also decided to help out around the orphanage. Junkrat was fantastic at entertaining the kids while Satya gave the kids some lessons on all sorts of topics.

When their time had finished up, they decided to visit more. While they waited for Tracer to pick them up they set up on the beach to pass the times.

“I just wish I could do more you know. I finally got to meet my sister again, and we just head up and leave.”

“No worries love I have a plan for that.”

Symmetra pulled Junkrat into a kiss as Tracer finally arrived.

The next morning Chloe woke up to find an email explained that an anonymous donor just gifted the orphanage $3,000,000.

Notes:

So of all the days this one is my favorite by far, so I hope you all enjoyed. I hope you all have a good week and life. I love all of you. My Tumblr is http://dracolord1208.tumblr.com/

Series this work belongs to:

« Part 5 of the Draco's Junkmetra Week series

[katyinthemiddle]

Realizations and Mishaps from My Adulthood: When In Doubt, Be an X-Men!

I’ve always had 2 very unique “gifts” in life:

1.)    The ability to be the flypaper to the weirdos of the world. It is one of those wild mysteries of life. Some people have chronic headaches with no source and I have the ability to attract creeps with a 35 year old mullet who believe they were abducted by aliens in ‘88. Not only do these freakin’ crazies FIND me within a 20 mile radius, but they TALK. And they will tell me things no normal human being would tell anyone after knowing them for less than 30 seconds

I guess I just have one of those faces. 

2.)    The ability to have my personality as my biggest form of self-defense. I use to live alone in a cute house near Cleveland, Ohio. I would come home from work and run a mile or 2 around the block. At first, my parents were concerned about me going out by myself. Would someone try to grab me while I was out running? Would someone break into my house and hold me captive? Should I carry around pepper spray and brass knuckles like my 75 year old grandma? (True story!) But then after some thought, my mother decided she wasn’t scared for me after all. And here is her EXACT reason why: “If anyone ever tried to kidnap Kate, she would just have to start talking and they would return her. They might even pay us to take her back.”

So yeah, awesome. Thanks, Ma.

Even though I know my line of self-defense is offensively dependable, I still have a very neurotic attitude when it comes to the weirdos in life who love to find me and tell me their life stories. It also doesn’t help that I have other things about my personality aside from just talking that tend to make people not want to come near me and/or steal me.  Here’s a good little story to prove just that.

I’m a big fan of hiking. When I moved to California, my sister took me to this place called Peter’s Canyon that is still my favorite place of all time to take a nice hike. The hills are full-on slopes of death…  Which doesn’t really work for clumsy people like me all the time:

But I love it dearly and it’s my life, damnit!

Even though I know it’s not the best idea, I do sometimes workout alone. I know, I know, but shut up, it’s rare. Right before I moved to Dallas, I was packing up our apartment during a lovely day out and decided I wanted to take an hour-ish break and go hike Peter’s Canyon. Now, I DO NOT do this alone typically but it was about 2pm on a Tuesday and I DO WHAT I WANT. Normally it’s annoyingly crowded on the trail since we mainly go on the weekends, (…and every line in Orange County is Black Friday long EVERY DAY) but since it was a Tuesday afternoon  almost NO cars were parked by the entrance. SCORE!

It’s about 2 hours if you do the full trail, but I still needed energy to keep packing when I got home, so I did a shorter version. The majority of the hike I did not see 1 other person! Which was awesome cause I was listening to my 90’s mix and practicing my Celine Dion fist-chest pump thing to “All By Myself” (I’m so fucking poetic sometimes).

(GET IT, GIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

I got to the last few miles of the trail which was flat and led right back to the street I parked my car on. This part is pretty shaded with trees and more wooded than the death hills at the beginning. I’m walking along feeling feelings with Celine when out of the corner of my eye I see someone coming down from the woods.

It startled me a little bit since I hadn’t seen anyone else in over an hour. It ended up to be an older man who looked very sweaty and wasn’t wearing workout clothes. I wasn’t sure if he had come off another path cause from what I could see, there wasn’t any leading down to where I was walking. Maybe he was making his own? Good for him, a true pioneer. He motioned over to me and started saying something. I removed my headphones and smiled and waved. I assumed since he was wearing khaki shorts and a polo that maybe he was lost. Very easy to do, which is also very dangerous.  

He came up a little closer and I could see he was sweating quite a bit.

“ Hi there, what is your name?”

Oh, okay. Guess we were starting with names to be polite instead of me just pointing to him where to go to get out of here.

“Hi, I’m Kate. Are you lost?”

“Hi, I’m Ralph.” – Let’s call him Ralph cause I have no fucking clue what his real name is nor do I care.

He stood there smiling. Not at all answering my question if he was, in fact, lost.

“Kate, where did you park?”

Ahhhh, bawhat? Kinda weird, kinda weird.  Was this his manly way of not admitting he was lost and needed directions?

“Ahh, I parked on the street to the entrance like everyone else.” I wasn’t trying to sound like a complete asshole but I also wasn’t going to give the exact location of where my car was to a stranger.

“Oh, yeah I parked wayyyyy over there. At a parking lot. I had to pay.” He pointed in the exact opposite direction I was headed. Really weird as I’ve never seen or heard of a parking lot near the entire hiking area nor one that made you pay.

“Oh, never heard of it.” I started fidgeting with my headphones again as I could tell this wasn’t about him asking for directions.

“Kate, where do you live? Do you live around here?”

Creepy.

“Yeah not too far.” Trying to remain vague.

“Do you come here a lot to walk? On weekends? Or after work? Do you come alone, mainly?”

Creepier still.  Not really sure where this is going at this point, so I make a firm decision to try and scare him away.

“My fiancé and I come here every once in awhile.” BOOM. Throw in that you have a man and that he goes there with you….. and the creeps  run away typically. But not Ralph, cause Ralph is special.

“So you don’t come here alone? What days of the week are you here?”

At this point, I felt like taking a step back to assess the situation. I was basically in the woods. 2 miles from my car and civilization. No one else was on the trail except me and Deliverance aka Ralph. I was much more in shape and actually in workout gear so I could probably outrun him if I needed to. I had my phone on me so I could probably call 911 unless he made some surprise attack or worse… he had other people surrounding me.

At this point I was freaking myself out with all possible outcomes including, but not limited to ACTUALLY being “Taken” – Liam Neeson style. But who would find them and kill them?!?!?!

Right away I think about useful things I have on me to potentially use to fight back. I remember I have my keys in my pocket and reach for them. I jingle them a bit trying to give Ralph the hint I need to leave. He just stood there waiting for me to give him the exact times and dates of where I’ll be alone in the next 24 hours. (… ugh, the shitter? That’s where everyone is alone. Unless you have kids, I guess…)

I look down at my phone like someone texted me cause that is ALWAYS the go-to when trying to get out of a awkward situation. And let’s be honest, Ralph doesn’t know only 2 people ever text me and one of them is my mom making sure I still get my vegetables at 29 years old. ( and I do!)

I quickly start to walk backwards and mumble something about having to go and a fire (I have no idea, I’m not a great liar so it felt right at the time). Since I’m trying to keep it polite, I even smiled and waved.  Before I turn around completely, I see Ralph standing there, not waving back, but looking completely baffled why I was hurrying the fuck out of there… and probably why I randomly said, “ fire” in a non-panic manner.

I turn a little corner away from his view and immediately stop to regain myself. TIME TO GET SERIOUS! I grab my keys and put all 3 of them between my fingers, Wolverine style:

(What I think I looked like…)

(What I actually looked like…. not my arm though. That is a man. I am not a man.)

This made sense to me because it was the only “weapon” I had on me. I didn’t know if Ralph was going to follow me OR if he and other people would be waiting for me at my car… so I quickly wrap my hoodie around my waist, secure my phone and headphones, put on some Metallica (… cause duh) and full on sprint the last 2 miles back to my car.

Here’s the best description of what the next few minutes looked like:

I am running FULL THROTTLE through the woods with my Wolverine-key hands at my side… almost Edward Scissorhand-style… my hoodie flying up behind me like a cape, guitars BLASTING through my headphones while frantically looking back every 10 seconds to make sure I’m not being followed.

All in all, pretty fucking awesome if you ask me.

When I see the opening to the street, I slow down a bit cause I’m EXTREMELY TIRED. Sprinting is hard and I’m not freakin’ Usain Bolt.

I see other people around the entrance, but again, I don’t know if they are safe. Even if they are a little old woman and her white, yappy dogs. She could be dangerous! You never know.

I keep my Wolverine/Scissorhand up at my side cause I wasn’t taking ANY chances. I get to the side walk where my car is and slow down. I walk around it 360, looking under and over and finally inside the back seat… CAUSE THAT IS ALWAYS WHERE THEY HIDE IN MOVIES!

(AHHHH! … and movies are always real! Like the internet!)

Luckily, I didn’t see anyone. At this point I felt safe enough to remove the keys from between my fingers and actually get into my car. I look around for a few more minutes and there is no sign of Ralph. I decide at this point, I can leave.

However, no way in hell was I going home. He could be watching. I decide that even though I’m paranoid and drench in sweat, I’m going to go a public area for the next 2-19 hours.. just in case.

I end up at a shopping center and do some impromptu grocery shopping even though I need nothing. Naturally, I walk out with a shit-ton of bags of groceries, a huge case of water and I SPECIFICALLY made sure to buy a big canister of peanuts. Cause Ralph could be allergic to them and that could be my saving grace.

Also, peanuts are delicious.

When I get back to my apartment and open the door, to my surprise I hear voices. My fiancé wasn’t  home… he had already gone to Dallas. So naturally I COMPLETELY PANICKED.

I got back out my trusty keys and Wolverined it again while I slowly walked inside. It ended up being a radio that was turned on from the alarm clock in our bedroom. Felt kinda dumb, but talk radio can bore you to death. Not taking chances.

I’d like to say I played it cool the rest of the evening, but instead I forced my sister and her husband to come over and sit in my bedroom while I showered. I also forced them to search the apartment multiple times to make sure it was safe. I might have even slept with my keys still in between my fingers… (It’s not comfortable, highly DO NOT recommend it).

Lesson learned – WHEN IN DOUBT, BE AN X-MEN!

Jusssssst kidding.

Lessons learned – TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS. If you feel uncomfortable from weirdos finding you and asking personal questions, then leave. Maybe don’t sprint away while casually saying “Oh.. gotta go… fire… bye!” Ralph could have been harmless or had some weird social defect. I will never know. But I do know that even if I looked like a complete idiot scrambling away, at least I was being safe. And even if like me, kidnappers would bring you right back the second you opened your month, if you feel uncomfortable… GET OUT.  What do moms of the world always say? “Better safe than sorry!” And they are right, like all moms usually are.

Be safe. Be aware. Be yourself… cause let’s be honest, if Ralph and his kidnapping bandits did get to witness my insane escape away from them, I doubt they would have wanted me anyway.  Being my odd self has probably saved me a number of times from weirdos like him.

Moral of the story, being yourself is always the best bet. And in my case, the safest. 

 (Look at that face!!! The Guac has a better chance of being stolen. #truestory. #guaclife)

[jillmckenzie1]

Please Swipe Responsibly

If you think dating is hard, try dating in a ski town. Population 4,896. The tourist game is so strong in Breckenridge that I can confidently proclaim that I’ve matched with more Texans in Colorado than I ever matched with Texans while actually living in Texas.

For those of you unfamiliar with app dating, I’ll provide a crash course. Bumble gives the woman 24 hours to communicate with the man after a match is made (i.e. two mutual swipe rights). The man then has 24 hours to respond. Each user is given a daily extension, which will open the communication channel for an extra 24 hours. Once a male and female have both commented, the chat log stays open indefinitely. Hinge is slightly more low-key; I liken it to Facebook as users can simply heart photos or comments without a deadline to engage in conversation. Both operate on a geographical radius.

A few weeks ago, a guy in my Bumble queue opted to use his one-time extension (quite flattering, yes). I figured anyone who was willing to take such initiative was worthy of, at the very least, a cordial hello (only, I never lead with a formal salutation because that would immediately classify me as boring, and I am not boring). Lo and behold, he’s at the airport. On his way back to San Diego. California. His words: “I know, I swiped irresponsibly, but you really seemed worth it.”

No shit I’m worth it. But, what’s your play here, stud? Are you going to fall madly in love with me via FaceTime before I transport my Airstream to your driveway? No. Answer is no.

So, we wasted each other’s time for two hours in meaningless conversation that we will never be able to get back. It’s fine. Everything is fine. I didn’t want those two hours anyway (insert eyeroll emoji).

You might be shocked to learn that this irresponsible swiping stuff is a very real thing. I’ve often wondered if I’m simultaneously chatting with two bros from the same bachelor party who are crammed into the hot tub of their ten-person rental pad. Chances are high (and, no, I’m not coming over with my bathing suit).

With that being said, I generally bow out of conversations once I realize that the guy’s home base extends beyond the city limits of Denver. And that’s not because I wouldn’t date someone outside of Colorado. I most certainly would. Ironically, I am actually one of the few people who is easily able to close the mileage gap for the right person. But, to date, my freedom has acted as more of a curse.

Circumstance conditions us to date within our city limits, to find the person that fits into our geographical routines. To be open to anyone living anywhere is an entirely new dimension to dating that most people are not even fully able to comprehend (think black-holes-in-outer-space type stuff).

As you can imagine, it’s rare to find locals in a ski town (who are also my age), and if I do, they are usually working jobs that are not going to prosper into sustainable careers (no judgment, but I undoubtedly need someone who is going to inspire my professional synapses). So, I currently exist between the hopelessness of meeting a real-life human in the wild (not sure people even do this anymore) and the ridiculousness that is our digital dead zone of online dating (in case you were wondering, filters do not exist behind phone screens).

For all of you non-single people, let me enlighten you for a minute. For all of you single people, I’m fully aware that these next few paragraphs will come as no surprise.

In the last two weeks, I’ve been sent two dick pics (completely unsolicited). Both from irresponsible swipers escaping back into their East Coast abodes. One of them even used a shampoo bottle to clearly demonstrate size. A true gentleman in every sense of the word. Mama raised that boy right. Also, it’s worth noting that he used his Bumble profile to define his religious affiliation as “Christian” (insert wide-eyed, blank stare emoji). I do not say that with any predisposition to the fact that a Christian guy should know better or more than a man who labels himself as a non-Christian; it’s simply a nod to the fact that an online dating profile creates a high level of expectations for how a person should be acting based on the viewer’s perceptions of those answers; but really, those perceptions are just that, perceptions. The answers hold zero weight in the grand scheme of deciphering the personality, morals, and intentions of the guy (or girl) on the other side of the screen.

In a surprising turn of events from volunteer nudes, I’ve also been proposed to four times. One included a link to Jagged Edge’s “Let’s Get Married” hit single that had me convinced that we might actually engage in harmonious matrimony (if you know me, then you know that 90’s R&B is the key to my Usher-loving heart). The other three were generally well-timed responses to my signature sarcasm.

The most popular question I get, however, does not involve my ring finger. It is a request for a picture of my backside (I wish I were kidding). I present to you my most recent exchange with a guy from Denver who, on day two of correspondence, asked for a photo of my butt. In his defense, he made this request using the peach emoji (please read that he gets no actual defense for using the peach emoji). When I told him that pictures of my backside were worth the big bucks, he then sent me the money bag emoji (three of them, to be exact) as if I were really insinuating that I needed some form of payment. Of course, he then unmatched me (I��m going to assume that my lack of correspondence proved that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted – even though he had put in his Bumble profile that he was looking for a person with whom to do outdoor things, not a person from whom to receive peach photos).

Finally, my personal favorite, the guy who asked me, “Is there any chance in hell you’d ever allow someone to buy a pair of your socks?” And never has a human been more serious. This dude’s commitment to the previously quoted question puts the marriage proposal men to absolute shame. I proceeded to ask him if he was using Hinge to run some type of sock-smuggling enterprise (think Orange is the New Black and Piper’s prison panty operation). Apparently, that wasn’t funny. At least, not to him. Immediate unmatch. Great. My socks are safe. Bye.

At this point, I realize that matching with anyone online–no matter his ultimate geographic location– opens up the flood gates of potential comedic absurdity. I often question whether or not to persevere for the sake of finding a “normal” one out there or simply throwing in the towel and praying that the real-life guy will mysteriously find me while we reach for the same jar of almond butter at Whole Foods or sit undeniably too close on the same chairlift. If you are a regular to my writing shenanigans, then you know that I recently succumbed to the fact that dating is a game of numbers, so the answer–whether I like it or not–is to do both. To be open to finding someone is to explore every means necessary for a union to take place.

  Here. Present. Doing it.

The problem is that it can be just so damn tiring. Like when I had to tell the guy who had just ended it with his live-in girlfriend three days before we went on our first–and only–date that there was no possible way that I could move forward with him based on that information, and he proceeded to text me every day for a week even despite my withdrawal from the conversation (a testament to the fact that even the most direct bluntness can be blinded by the highest levels of emotional instability).

Hint: Get off Bumble. Move out of your apartment. Rebuild your capacity to do life alone so that you can physically and psychologically support yourself before attempting to simultaneously support someone else standing beside you.

  Dating fail number…I’ve lost count.

Two weeks ago, I started messaging a guy in Vail (mind you, he’s actually from Michigan). Ironically, he’s on a 30-day snowboard trip in which two of those weeks will exactly mirror the trip I’ve been thinking about taking to Jackson Hole and Sun Valley and then into Utah. I started to like his digital version so much that I found myself not even wanting to meet his real-life version. His point total was so positive that, in order to prepare myself for the typical in-person letdown, I reasoned that his profile pictures were five years old and that he’d be far less entertaining in the flesh.

I wish I could tell you that my self-talk was wrong, but in true Bumble fashion, we both faded into oblivion, our names sitting somewhere in the deep recesses of each other’s iMessage chat logs (if we even gave each other names). We had a solid four days in which I reasoned that the overabundance of snow was due to my dancing abilities. He called me his lucky charm. I made sure to dominate his daily vertical feet of mountain madness (you’re not surprised). And he didn’t send me a dick pic (you are surprised).

All that being said, the answer is that I don’t know. But history suggests that this stimulating digital connection would have made it very difficult for the analog encounter to live up to such inevitably high expectations.

  Fact. Our phones have dramatically changed the environment for cultivating romantic relationships.

Let’s revisit the anomaly of real-life encounters. My best friend has put this fantasy inside my head that my Prince Charming is actually not going to manifest himself from behind my phone screen. She is convinced that we are, in fact, going to serendipitously meet as physical people.

She tells me that he is going to be standing in front of me in the singles line of Peak 6, only to find out that Kensho Chair is no longer running because of a high wind advisory. He will turn around, in despair, to be greeted by my slightly annoyed but still smiling google-tanned face, and we’ll both subconsciously register our mutual affinity for camo: his pants, my jacket. He’ll mumble his frustrations about wanting to hike to the summit and based on my recent experience–in which I quite literally almost blew off the side of the mountain–I’ll ensure him that he is missing nothing. He’ll exhale relief before confirming that we are both, in fact, locals. And we’ll strap in side-by-side, surrounded by an equivocal air of attraction.

We’ll race off towards Peak 7, his speed just outside my reach, and yet I’ll still manage to fall just one spot behind him on Independence Chair. At that point, I will try to erase that fuzzy feeling–the one that sends an electric current from the top of your head down into your toes, the one that is assessing whether or not the person within your vicinity is registering that fuzzy feeling, too–because I am coming to terms with the fact that he will be long gone by the time I remove myself from my single seat on that six-person chair.

Except he won’t be gone. He’ll be taking his sweet time to buckle himself in, and as I skate to a spot near him to ultimately do the same, he will do the unprecedented thing, the action that seems so lost in our current state of swiping and sexting: he will ask me my name followed by an open invitation to ride together for the remainder of the day. He will open himself up to my potential to say no.

Except I won’t say no. I will say yes with a confidence that implies that I couldn’t picture the day going any other way, a façade to the fuzzies that I’ll have welcomed back into every major and minor nerve-ending inside my spine. Because I’ll be nervous as hell. I won’t have access to five pictures or a brief bio to make assumptions about him before we embark on this journey (because you know I won’t make any of those afternoon runs easy). And I won’t know if he just wants someone to hike with him to the backside of Peak 9 or if he thinks that I look quasi-cute in my snowboard getup that often has me confused for being a bro. I won’t know his age or his job or his ability to speak sarcasm. I won’t have the faintest idea of his Zodiac Sign or his religious affiliation. There will be no checkbox on his camo pants helping me to understand if he is searching for love or for lust.

So, my best friend, she tells me that it will happen this way. And I will have to ask the questions. And I will have to listen to my intuition. And, in this fantasy that she has created for my life, he is nothing short of sincere. He will have the wherewithal to ask for my number at the end of the day and the balls to text me that evening to ask if I want to spend the next morning together on the mountain. And it will snow seven inches that night, and I’ll wake up early to meet him for first chair, and without hesitation, he’ll show me all the secret stashes in the trees. The powder day will turn into drinks at night, and after two Tito’s and sodas, he’ll admit that the closing of Peak 6 on a random Thursday in January was the best thing that’s happened to him in a very long time. And, I’ll allow his words–that I am kind and pretty and funny–to intoxicate my soul so much deeper than the vodka ever could.

We’ll kiss. And it won’t be fueled by an animal-like intensity to simply rip off each other’s clothes to expose what hides beneath the layers of baggy snowboard gear. He will linger on my bottom lip and run his fingers through my hair that is notoriously flowing from underneath my Broncos beanie. And I won’t be able to decipher the difference between that giddy feeling that I am getting from the snow that continues to blanket my newfound home in Colorado or from the fire that has now been tattooed on my lips.

At that point, I’ll know. His age and his job and his ability to speak sarcasm. I’ll know his Zodiac Sign, even if he barely knows it himself, and his religious affiliation. And while there will be no checkbox on his, now, denim jeans, my intuition will tell me that he is not just looking for lust.

So, we’ll do that whole dating thing. And he’ll hop in the car with me for that aforementioned Idaho road trip. And his real-life version, the one that I met before having to decipher his methods of digital dialogue, will undoubtedly leave me begging for more.

Maybe, just maybe, my best friend will be right about this one (she’s usually right). Meanwhile, if you need me, I’ll be over here dreaming about the singles line on Peak 6 (and turning down more requests for pictures of my backside).

from Blog https://ondenver.com/please-swipe-responsibly/