#recognizing now how much of myself i saw in his crippling anxiety

[lostandbackagain]

it's so important to me that dustfinger should be on like 4 different medications for the medley of mental illnesses he mostly ignores

[undersero]

4:27

this is my contribution to @doinmybesthere's Mental Health Collab!

please note: this work is SOLELY my own interpretation of Oikawa, and how I like to think he took care of himself. Through my perspective, I see that Oikawa and I share a lot of the same experiences and expectations of ourselves, so this work is also a little bit of a goal for where I'd like to be with myself in the future; able to calm myself down and relax, and not have to be constantly on all the time. This comforted me to work on, and I hope it can bring some comfort for you too. Thanks, Emme for including me!!

contains: mentions of anxiety, mentions of a panic attack, passion mention of blood/bleeding.

word count: 1112

Toru Oikawa’s brain slowly pulls him from the depths of sleep far before the sun comes up. Even in the summer, the sky is still a dark, inky blue at 4:27 AM. His brain and his muscles scream at him to rise, to train, to work even though it’s an off-day.

Even though there’s a gold medal in his office across the hall from his bedroom.

Like usual, he almost gives in for a moment, almost gives in to his screeching anxiety and crushing expectations of himself.

When he was younger, before he grew close with you, Iwaizumi would be the one to point out how he ran himself ragged. Iwaizumi knew better than anyone just how overbearing and nearly impossible Oikawa’s regiment was- and the good thing about Iwaizumi is that he’d always call him on it. He’d always bring Toru back to earth, reminding him what’s actually expected of a middle-schooler, or a high-schooler. Iwa was good for that, but Iwa couldn’t be everywhere at once, so sometimes Toru was able to slip away and continue pursuing his own success.

But then you came along, and Toru Oikawa was much easier to keep track of when there were two people watching.

But that was high school, absolute ages ago.

Some habits die hard, though.

Toru opens his eyes, rubbing the sleep from them with long, lovely fingers. He stares at the ceiling, willing down the fizzy static of anxiety from his brain, willing his heart rate to decrease, willing himself to just take a moment and breathe.

It’s taken practice. Years of it. Even now, it takes several minutes to calm himself down. To breathe. To exist.

He began running himself ragged, training himself to the point of injury nearly a decade before, when Tobio Kageyama joined the middle school volleyball team as a setting prodigy. The competition, in Toru’s mind, began from the start. He had to be better. He had to hit harder, set more perfectly, he had to be the one chosen to be on the court.

Ever since he met that little prick, he knew his days were numbered. He knew he wouldn’t be the best for long, and he started doubting if he ever was the best, if he was ever good.

No. Ridiculous, he’d thought. Of course he was good. He just needed to work harder. If he put in more hours, if he refined his serve, he’d be unstoppable. There wouldn’t be any question anymore of how good he was. No one would question that he was the best there ever was.

This, of course, did nothing to quell the stress he felt regarding Ushiwaka. Until quite recently, Toru was never quite able to beat him, always came in second, and the frustration from this fact always played in the back of his mind, always ate at him and tugged on his thoughts whenever things were going well, and tugged especially hard when he was alone and vulnerable.

His serves could be great, his sets could be perfect, and his ability to manage and direct his team could be unparalleled. But Ushiwaka was still a step ahead of him, just far enough away that Toru’s fingertips couldn’t quite reach him.

Any little seed of insecurity that Toru had buried inside sprouted into a monster, taking root in the very part of his life he loved most: volleyball. All it took was one look at Kageyama, his instincts and natural talent on the court. All it took was one little reminder of Shiratorizawa and Ushiwaka always coming out on top.

Each time he was reminded, the root deepened, grew more barbs and hooked into Toru Oikawa’s every waking moment, every second of training.

He simply wasn’t good enough, and he knew he’d never win unless he practiced.

The only way Toru saw himself winning was to practice until his fingers bled. Practice serving late into the night, until long after everyone had gone home, until he couldn’t put any weight on his knee from the effort and strain. As he grew older, further away from Miyagi, and as he learned through the help of his therapist and close friends, there were no rigid expectations placed on him by anyone. Not by his coaches, nor his team mates. The expectations were placed on him solely by himself. It was his own brain that could never be satisfied, it was his own desire to be the best and to win at all cost that drove him to multiple injuries, a harsh training schedule, and not much time for the simpler things in life.

Insecurity. Perfectionism. That deeply satisfying, sickeningly giddy feeling he felt in his stomach upon hearing through the grapevine that Kageyama couldn’t trust people. That he couldn’t work well in a team, that he couldn’t really express what he wanted or needed from others. Toru stewed over these things, thought about them for years afterward. On long metro trips, or long flights, the thoughts would creep into his brain, and along with them came the nauseating nostalgia of remembering how it all felt. The jealousy, the rage, the crippling sadness. He remembered the tears, how they’d always fall hot and frantic down flushed cheeks as he tried desperately to swallow gulps of air into his burning lungs. His fingers often tingled with the need to wrap around his hair near the root and pull until he saw white and until his scalp throbbed in pain.

Sometimes, it was really easy to fall back into these feelings. It was really easy for Toru to be sucker punched with how it felt back then, when everything was happening all at once. Years of therapy and working on himself, though, helped nudge him to the right track. He realized the world wasn’t out to get him. It became easier to recognize his tremendous talent, and he didn’t doubt himself as much anymore.

Some days are harder than others now, and sometimes, he still wakes up at the ungodly hour of 4:27 in the morning to a brain that’s shrieking at him to wake up, to train, to be the best.

You shift in your sleep next to him, almost like a grounding reminder that he’s safe. He’s got support. He’s okay and things are okay.

Toru Oikawa rolls over onto his side and wraps an arm around your middle, pressing himself delicately against you. He presses his nose into your shoulder, inhaling the most comforting scent he’s ever known. Toru closes his eyes, and is able to fall back asleep.

Now, he doesn’t open his eyes again until the sun shines brightly in the sky.

[hisunshiine]

Money Heist | knj | Part 3

moodboard 1 | moodboard 2 | playlist | Netflix ReImagined BTS Masterlist

↳ #NetflixReImaginedBTS: Kim Namjoon x Reader starring in a bank robbery au

↳ M-18+, implied sexual content, major character deaths, bank robbery actions (violence, use of weapons, deciet)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Money Heist Masterlist | Heathfritillary (author)

I had never seen anything as mesmerizing as the sun rising beyond the horizon, the contrast of the blue ocean as the warm-toned colors of the sun and skies reflected on it and bounced along with the gentle waves. I took a sip of the mango juice I had poured into a glass as I stared out of the captivating scenery.

Hawaii was a beautiful state.

When Ilsan suggested it should be our next destination after we had arrived back at the beach house, I did not like it but as he adamantly explained, none of us had been identified by the authorities.

It was the perfect time to flee South Korea. We could go undetected and did not have to hide out at Jindo until the heat settled. Ilsan suggested that we could go immediately. Sadly, despite how much of your life you plan for, reality would never reflect your wishes. Sometimes shit happened that was out of your control.

I learned that the hard way. We lost Daegu and Gwacheon while fleeing the bank. Busan and GC were arrested and the authorities knew the identities of Seoul and Gwangju.

The devastation was not the right word to use to express the anger I felt when the police plastered the images of some of us on national television. Unfortunately, Busan and GC were very popular among the locals in Jindo and often went out. People recognized them and it was by the grace of God that Ilsan woke up and heard the commotion of the police busting in and led me out of the beach house.

Guilt was not the right word either. What I felt was far more crippling and disheartening. I left my boys. I did not know where they were or what they were doing to them. I kept wishing that they were alright somehow, that they were still breathing somewhere. However, Ilsan was far less optimistic. He stated on our way out of the country the Korean government would most likely execute them, reminding me that we held the President of the country hostage, tied him up, and stripped him of all of his rights and pride.

Moreover, the stinging pain of actually losing people who I had spent every waking moment hurt me in ways I ever thought possible. As soon as we landed in Hawaii, I sank into a state I could not recognize.

Thankfully, Ilsan took care of me.  

As sadistic and ruthless as he was before and during the heist, I saw him in a different light after we had arrived here. He made sure I had the space to process everything that happened when phase four was activated. I failed to protect Daegu and we lost him. I was supposed to have his back and I could not even do that.

GC could not look at me. Everything was ruined from then.

I understood his anger and sympathized when he demanded Ilsan throw me to the police. I understood. He could never forgive me. I felt his pain, the betrayal he felt despite it all being a moment where I did not react accordingly. He hated me and I understood, so I took every hurtful word, every shove and slur tossed my way.

Ilsan would not stand for it.

Regardless of how infuriated GC was, Ilsan forced him to push his feelings aside so the rest of us could make it out alive. I was not allowed to leave Ilsan’s side. He whispered in my ear, as we waited our turn to escape through the backup exit Gwacheon had created, that he was not feeling secure around GC and that I should not either. He said he had seen teams go against each other during a heist and he did not appreciate how GC glared at me.

I never left Ilsan’s side. Even after we came back to Jindo and met up with the Professor. I was not allowed to leave his side. He could not rest properly until we had cut ties and went our separate ways. Ilsan was adamant about getting out of South Korea as fast as we could.

All trust for GC had disappeared and understandably so, but Ilsan could not risk GC opening his mouth and giving the authorities any sort of information about him or me. So, I kept my distance and GC repaid the favor.

I wish I could see him one more time. I did not know where he or Busan was but I was certain they were in the police’s custody.

I clutched my glass as my forehead gently touched the cold surface of the door window looking out to the white beach. Forgiveness was all I wanted from GC and from Busan. I hoped someone was caring for his shoulder. Busan had become weak during the heist and I feared for his recovery. The Professor sent a doctor over to the beach house and he fixed him back up but I was sure that the police did not prioritize his health as much as we did.

My heart ached.

Unfortunately, due to the Professor’s involvement, Interpol was informed and a lot of people suddenly wanted to help South Korea capture everyone who was part of the heist. We had to be careful. It was only a matter of time until our identities would have been revealed too.  

Too many thoughts occupied my mind, I did not register that Ilsan was behind me. I felt his bare chest grace my back as his arms wrapped around my frame, his chin resting on my shoulder blade, “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Morning.”

“What are you doing up?”

“Thinking.”

“About?”

I shook my head a little as I allowed a small sigh to come out of me. I wanted to tell him what was roaming my mind, the concerns I had, and the overwhelming guilt I felt but knowing Ilsan, I figured he would brush my feelings aside and tell me I was overthinking. Yet as soon as I felt his plump lips on my neck I closed my eyes and allowed the tender kisses to comfort me.

“Talk to me,” he hummed into my skin.

“The others. I’m thinking about the others.”

“Busan and GC?”

“Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung,” I murmured as I remembered learning their names on the plane ride to Hawaii. Ilsan bought a newspaper and he translated what the headlines said about the two thieves. I turned to face him, “Hoseok and Jungkook are still out there. You saw the news yesterday. The kitchen is still hot, Namjoon. There’s too much attention on us.”

“Not on us.”

“It’s just a matter of time.”

“It’s been three months since we did it.” He placed a kiss on my forehead as he pulled me closer to him, “Three months, baby. We are comfortable here and people mind their business.”

“It’s a matter of time.”

“Maybe. But right now, we are safe. We are rich. No one knows us as Namjoon, Y/N, London, or Ilsan. We are Mr. and Mrs. Son.” He smiled, showcasing his dimples as he reached for my hand and kissed the wedding band he had bought a month ago. With new identities and a small ceremony, Hawaii had become the staple of our love. Despite the stress and anxiety that came with robbing a bank, we managed to find a place to settle in and begin our lives as a married couple. It was calm here. And Namjoon was right, we were safe … at least, for now, we were free.

I stared into his rich dark eyes as he swayed my hips. He was being playful.

Ilsan had been hard to read since I met him almost a year ago. However, despite his resistance and innate instincts to pull away and not trust anyone, he somehow began to let his guard down. I knew it bothered him that he was responsible for another person. Much like myself, he was a soloist; always had been and figured he would be forever.

Lovestruck when he least expected it as well. It came as a surprise to both of us. However, I did not regret falling for him.  

Ilsan was more than I had ever expected for myself. He was strong, smart with his decisions, and he had a lot of knowledge and experience under his belt. Regardless of his disappointment for the newfound responsibility - mostly due to a deep-rooted fear that he would not be able to protect those who trusted him the most - he never shied away from showcasing his affection for me, his passion for my body, and his enthusiasm about our love.

I leaned into his palm as it began to caress my cheek. Our eyes locked on each other as we studied one another. He pulled me closer to him, his hand now clutching my jaw as his lips met mine for a long and sensual kiss. Groaning into it slightly as the intensity grew, I felt his other hand traveling down to the hem of my t-shirt. His fingernails dug into my thigh as he exposed more of my skin while sliding the t-shirt upward, “I will protect you,” he promised into the kiss, “I will do everything to keep you safe.”

My hands traveled down his bare chest as the kiss grew more passionate. His tongue entered my mouth, slowly dancing sensually and poetically with mine as it became hungrier, almost as desperate as the first night we shared our first kiss.

I could never get tired of kissing him. His lips were soft, pillow-like as they met mine. He took his time; exploring every inch of my body and assuring I received mine before he did. A true gentleman. Often, in our afterglow, he would brag that he took great pride in fulfilling me the way I wanted to.

Those months at the beach house, we had each other on every surface imaginable. Never slowing down our pace, we kept exploring each other. I wanted him, always. I could not keep my hands to myself and neither could he. It was an intense and passionate beginning, one that drove me intoxicatingly mad. The need for each other’s embrace grew so powerful that it almost turned into a drug.

His touch was something I could not be without for too long. It felt as if I was incomplete without him. And he had - numerous times - expressed the exact same unyielding longing for me.

To the others, our relationship came across as something purely based on the physical aspect. Although it started as such, I could not deny that was the basis of it. Today, however, Ilsan was a man I saw a future with, one I cared for deeply. I had said yes when he proposed.

Rose petals all over our condo in Hawaii. Little cute notes scattered everywhere to find the ring he had bought.

When I first met him in Jindo, he did not strike me as a man filled with overwhelming patience, affection, and a whole lot of romance. Ilsan was the embodiment of a romantic lover.

As stern and direct as he was, just as attentive and soft-spoken he could be around me. He cared. More so than any man I had the displeasure to date and call a boyfriend. So, I said yes. I became him and he was mine.

Lost in the drug that was his scent, I moaned into his hungry mouth. Our tongues danced fiercer as desperate pants escaped us while our bodies overheated in arousal. He pushed into the door window, pulling one of my legs over his hip as our lips kept a steady and needy pace.

The print of his erect length brushed against my stomach and my body reacted by shooting electricity from my core as excitement overcame me.

Ilsan and I had not been able to keep our hands off each other ever since our first encounter together. The innate attraction was still very much prominent, even after a year, we could not get enough of each other. It was as if any rational train of thought disappeared and all that was left was this primal and raw need to destroy and claim one another.

Speedily, I reached for his clothed bulge. A growl into my mouth appeared from the depths of his throat. The sudden hold on it along with my desperate need to prepare him to penetrate my eager slit made him clutch my throat in response.

“Baby,” he said slightly out of breath. I stared into his dark eyes, undeniable lust pierced through them as he gawked down my entirety, “I want you slow,” he murmured. I eyed him momentarily, contemplating the words as a ray of memories rushed in my head.

Ilsan and I were not only perfect for each other in terms of lifestyles or love language but we were compatible in ways I had never experienced with a man. When I say he changed my stances and opinions about certain things, I meant it. He was unfamiliar, virtually everything about him was new and exciting. So, when we shared our first lovemaking, I was pleasantly surprised that he fucked me as I had always wanted.

I never instructed him.

It was as if his body was made for mine. Like two perfectly sculpted clays, morphing into one as we explored every inch of each other and discovered that we were nothing without one another but together, we could become something far greater than anything neither of us had experienced.

To say I was deeply in love with him would not begin to justify the emotions I felt for him. He was beyond words. Our love was beyond life.

“Slow,” I nodded and I felt his large hands cupping my rear before lifting me up. My lips found his as he carried me back to bed.

He reached for my legs, closing them together as he elevated them. I grinned when he began to place tender kisses on my ankles before he nipped at my toes. I stared into his eyes with a nervous pant, unaware of what he meant by taking it slow.

Usually, our love was passionate and raw but today he wished to take things slower. I did not mind it. It was a slight surprise and often when he did this, it meant he had something up his sleeve.

“What?” He chuckled.

“Nothing.”

“You’re being suspicious of me.”

“I’m not.”

He laughed and forced my legs open before allowing them to rest on each of his hips, “Hmm,” he hummed as he stared down at me.

“What?”

“You should be suspicious.”

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow at him and he eyed me momentarily before he caved and pulled out a small box from his pocket, “What is this?” I used my elbows to lift myself up.

“Open it, Princess.”

“Why? What is this?” Excitement overcame me as I sat up. He threw himself beside me and watched as I opened the velvety red box, “Namjoon,” I kept repeating into a delighted giggle.

“It’s nothing special.”

“It’s not our anniversary yet,” I eagerly opened and gasped suddenly as soon as I spotted the heart-shaped emerald necklace that was staring back at me, “Oh gosh, it’s beautiful.” I was spellbound, my gaze kept studying the rose gold chain and how captivatingly the rising sunlight reflected on the stone.

“You like it?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad.” His rich baritone voice explained how Valentine’s Day was coming up in a couple of days and he wanted to give me something thoughtful. “I know we can’t be like every other couple and celebrate. It’s fine that you are worried, baby, I respect it and appreciate that you keep an eye out for us but I did not want you to lose this day.”

“You’re so sweet.” He flashed a tender smile as I took his hand in mine, “I love you.”

➰

The ambiance of the restaurant was something that captured the romance of this night. I had never been the type of woman who enjoyed a trivia holiday but I had to admit since Ilsan became my partner, I wanted to experience love with him. And he was good at it too. Everything was planned out. From my outfit to the place we would celebrate our love.

I sat opposite him, studied how gently the candlelight beamed at his olive skin. Spellbound and utterly captivated by his striking features as I took in his beauty. Ilsan looked amazing in a suit, he chose a beautiful one that complimented my long dark dress. He was reading the menu of the French restaurant he had picked for the occasion. He began to correct his tie and I could not help but watch as his knuckles turned white by the grip, how merely moments ago that same hand was clutching my throat.

“What?” He asked without glancing away from the menu, “What are you thinking?” I let out a small giggle, caught red-handed in my perverse thoughts. “Do you know what you want?” He ripped his eyes from the leather-covered book and caught my gaze, “You haven’t looked.”

“No.”

He eyed me momentarily. Everything around us was practically nonexistent. The chatter from the other guests faded, the soft violins playing from the speakers died down until everything evaporated and it was just us there. Sitting across from one another with a champagne bottle, red rose petals were casually thrown on the white table, and candle lights between us.

I slid my hand over to him and he caught it. His thumb gently caressing the ring on my left finger, “I like this,” I began, remembering the fight I initiated earlier this morning, “I never apologized.”

“Don’t.”

“I should,” our eyes met again. “I wish I could be like you and forget about the heist.”

“You’re inexperienced. I get it, you’re nervous.” He leaned over and placed a tender kiss on the back of my hand, “You worry. I get it, Princess.”

Ilsan had been involved with a lot of robberies and knew how to act and think afterward. He was right. I was inexperienced. Smaller shops were my thing and I never truly worried about police knocking on my door for stealing a Dior bag. But the bank of Korea was something else. We had gotten away with 700 million KRW. Divided equally among us. Unfortunately, we had to cut our time short and flee for our lives but the amount was better than nothing.

“You’re right. I’m being too obsessive.”

“Relax a little.”

“I will,” I retrieved my hand and began to look at the menu, “From now I will relax.”

➰

Ilsan excused himself during the dessert. I watched him as he left for the bathroom. Sinking to the chair, I felt fulfilled by the French meals the chef so deliciously had prepared. The crepes on my plate kept staring at me but as much as I wanted to finish the beautifully decorated crisp pancakes with fresh fruits and powdered sugar, I could not force myself to overeat. So, instead, I drank my champagne glass finish.

I observed the other guests. Some were on a date like we were and others were alone. I caught a glimpse of a woman in a suit who was sitting alone two tables from me. My gaze fell on her plate and I could not help my mind from wandering. She had been there since we arrived yet her plate of snails was untouched. She must have sensed that someone was watching her because she stared back at me and I hastily ripped my eyes away. Just as I did, I noticed two men in suits both continuously studied me. My heart immediately sank. I tried to brush their stares away earlier as Ilsan suggested, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves but now that he had gone to the bathroom and most likely would be gone for longer to pay for the meal, I felt uncomfortable being on their radar.

Then as I attempted to calm my nerves, two Hawaiian police officers entered the restaurant and I froze in my seat. My heart sank again, this time faster until it had reached my stomach. The sight of the officers knocked my breath away and I hastily reached for my purse and coat. They glanced around and had not spotted me yet, so I speedily without hesitation and without drawing too much attention on myself walked to the register.

Ilsan waved me over as the hostess handed him his credit card, “We need to leave,” I sternly whispered.

He studied my face briefly before he scanned the restaurant, “Where?”

“Two men by the entrance.”

“You sure?” He eyed me and the expression on my face must have been enough for him. He took my hand and we rushed toward the back of the restaurant.

“Stop them!” Someone shouted and we began to run.

The employees in the kitchen were startled by our sudden appearance and halted all activities. Ilsan yelled at them to point at the back door and when no one took our situation seriously, he drew his gun. Scared into submission, a chef pointed behind himself and we rushed over to the exit.

➰

We made it back to the little condo we had rented with cash. Still, with the Professor’s plan in our minds, we acted accordingly. Leave as fast as we could. I began to pack all of the essentials. Clothes and such did not matter. The money bags and our safety was our only concern.

Ilsan paused and clutched my hands before we kissed each other. This was going to be our first separation. He reached for the bags of money and walked out of the condo.

We hid a beat-up Chevrolet Impala close to our condo, able to blend perfectly once we used it to escape. Ilsan went over to it. I had only a few minutes to throw off the authorities by destroying the condo. With the television on, I began to mess up the space we had called home and created some memories that would never leave my mind.

The mention of the heist made me halt. I stared at the television as the news anchor spoke about how the authorities had caught Seoul in Finland. My heart sank once more. I froze as my eyes were glued to the screen. Images of his arrest appeared and I whimpered at the sight of him. I did not notice that Ilsan had returned. His gentle touch eased me as I had unknowingly held my breath, We watched as the news anchor explained that one of the thieves known as Gwangju was found in a hotel room in Ankara. Jung Hoseok had a full-blown shootout with the police, unable to escape, trapped like a mouse in a maze, he shot into them well-knowing they would fire back.

“He took charge,” Ilsan whispered as he gently caressed my back. Tears began to blur my vision as the realization of losing another one of us set in, “Baby?” Ilsan said until he shook me slightly, “We don’t have time for you to break down,” he reminded, “Let’s go.”

“Yes, yes,” I murmured as I wiped away the tears.

However, the mention of the assigned cities Ilsan and I had roamed in the condo making both of us stop once more and draw our attention back on the screen. The news anchor began to explain our appearance based on the hostages’ descriptions. Soon, police sketches appeared on the screen. Ilsan and I froze as we studied the candidly accurate portraits of us. Right down to his dimples and my hairstyle the day of the heist. Still, they did not know our identities.

“Thank God,” Ilsan hissed as he took my hand and guided me out of the condo.  

↣ all rights reserved © heathfritillary 2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed. 

[skyprincesscommander]

A Heart in Crisis

Summary: Angst, post Kara finding out the truth - The Monitor delivers a prophecy of Kara’s death, and Lena isn’t dealing so well. 

The irony was almost poetic. Not long ago, Lena had lied to Kara about seeing apocalyptic visions in her dreams. Now, she was living that reality. Every time Lena closed her eyes, she saw her world die.

It started with the visions she’d seen before but didn’t truly understand at the time. Nanobots consuming Supergirl in Jack’s lab. Kara crashing into the ground, bloody and broken and a breath away from death after her fight with Reign. Kryptonite infecting her body from her toes to her eyelids as the very air poisoned her, lighting up her veins with sickness.

It only went downhill from there. Lena started dreaming about her own simulations, watching Kara die by her own hand. When she awoke she would run to the bathroom, emptying the contents of her stomach (which unfortunately did not include the crippling anxiety that seemed to find its home there). She had even shut Hope off entirely, dizziness overcoming her the second she heard that automated voice. Hope only ever inquired as to her well-being, but all Lena heard was a robot who had offered to kill Supergirl.

Finally came the images she’d never seen before. The Monitor with his hands around Kara’s neck. Anti-matter consuming only her, leaving the world untouched around it. And no matter which dream her mind chose from the lottery, it always ended with his voice. 

“In order for billions to survive this coming crisis, Supergirl must die.”

That was the message the Monitor had brought. They had all stood frozen - Alex, Brainy, Jonn, Nia, and Lena, until Kara flew off into the sky, not willing (or able) to look or talk to any of them.  It was Brainy who approached Lena, concern painting his features. She had not moved for ten minutes.

“I don’t think I have a big enough box for this,” she whispered to him. Brainy just stood awkwardly beside her, his own boxes not sturdy enough to stop the flow of tears. It’d been two weeks since that day, and they still hadn’t spoken. Whether it was because of Lena’s own lies or because of Kara’s impending doom - it did not matter. All that mattered was that each day was another day closer to reaching Kara’s fate, and every morning when Lena woke it was like a new setting had been added to her panic meter. Inside, Lena felt like there was a doomsday clock ticking on her heart. For whether they were best friends or worst enemies, that was exactly what Lena would lose. 

Her sole focus became researching anti-matter. She’d never been a religious person, so as far as she was concerned, God and his prophecies could go fuck himself. Just because she wasn’t speaking with Kara didn’t mean she couldn’t help. Alex, while wearing a harsh scowl, gave her bits and pieces of information, but it made no difference. There was not enough time in the universe, apparently, for her to fix or even understand this problem. She stayed in the lab for three days, avoiding dreams and barely eating. When she practically collapsed on one of her test tubes, Lena knew it was time to go home. Without the strength to make it to her room, Lena collapsed on the couch with the sound of the television in the background to hopefully block her dreams. Her rest doesn’t last long. She wakes in a sweat, the Monitor’s words still echoing in her ears. However, it’s when she sees Supergirl on the television, battered and bruised from her latest battle, that all thought of sleep flies from her mind. First, she has to pinch herself, squeezing her eyes together to try and wake up once more. Kara has a single cut on her forehead from the battle, but Lena knows how the rest of the story will go. When the news story changes three minutes later, Lena cries with relief. However, her tears turn hot and angry quickly, and before she can change her mind Lena hits the S on her watch, right before throwing it against the wall. Somehow it still shocks her how fast Kara arrives, even after everything that transpired between them. With a whoosh and a thud, Kara barrels into the apartment, scanning the area for immediate danger before focusing on Lena. Behind the look of panic in Kara’s eyes, there is only exhaustion. It is the look of a woman whose mind and body have not stopped moving for days. Lena recognizes the image like it is an old friend. With one hand, Kara rubs the worry from her face, replacing it with exasperation. 

“Lena, no matter what happens, I will always be here to help you. But the next time you hit that watch there better be a real--” The still bleeding cut on Kara’s forehead snaps Lena into action. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

The words are unexpected, and Kara doesn’t have an immediate response for Lena. Instead, Kara’s face scrunches and she stares at Lena as if trying to see inside her mind. Considering the x-ray vision, Lena guesses that with the intensity of her gaze, that could be exactly what Kara is doing. Lena tries to remain as stoic as possible, pushing her anger to the forefront and allowing it to seep into each muscle to hide everything else she is feeling underneath. Seeming to give up on observing Lena, Kara sighs. “What do you want from me?” “For you to stop being a moron.”

“Which would include, what, exactly? For me to stop saving people? To run away from this Crisis?”

“To act like you don’t have a death wish!” “No! You don’t get to do that!” Kara bellows, edging closer with her finger pointing right between Lena’s chest. “You don’t get to worry about my fate when you’ve been killing me inside your head for months.”

One more thing Lena had to thank Leviathan for: knowing what happened inside her simulations and making sure to tell Kara. Lena’s heart winced, and as much as she wanted to unleash on Kara, to accuse her in return and make her hurt as badly as she was, Lena had no time to be distracted from the issue at hand. “Haven’t you ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy, Kara?” Kara turned to leave, exiting out the balcony door. “I don’t have time for this.”

Lena followed after her. “Croesus, the King of Lydia, asked the Oracle of Delphi in Greece if he should go to war with Persia. The oracle tells him that if he goes to war, he will destroy a great kingdom. So he does. But Croesus loses, and has to admit that it was his own empire he destroyed.” With a hand on the balcony’s edge, Kara faces Lena. “What’s your point, Lena?” “Believing that you are going to die might be the only reason you eventually do.” She throws the words into the air like punches. “The Monitor must know this and you are playing into his hands.” 

There was no flicker in Kara’s eye that told Lena she was learning new information. In fact, the words seemed to bounce of Kara like they were bullets that had been shot at her a hundred times before. In front of Lena’s eyes, Kara transformed. The invulnerable hero deflated like a puppet whose strings had been dropped. “Whether that’s true or not,” Kara began softly. “If the Monitor knows what we must do to defeat this Crisis...then that’s what we must do.” Lena could feel an eruption rise inside of her. Of what, she couldn’t be certain. Anger, despair, sadness, desperation...she had been blocking her own emotions for a lifetime and could barely identify them anymore. That’s why Kara was different. For three years, she had made Lena feel every day, Lena being unable to build a wall strong enough to block out the girl of steel. Even after learning of Kara’s betrayal, Lena was helpless against the Kryptonian, and that absolutely terrified her. But not more than her dreams. And not more than the crestfallen look on Kara’s face. 

“You’ve given up.” Kara clenched her fists. “We have to save the universe, Lena, no matter the cost.”

“You are my universe, Kara!” Without meaning to, Lena marches up to Kara, their faces inches away from each other. So close together, Lena could identify the wet blanket covering Kara’s eyes, though it becomes obscured when her own vision turns blurry. She ignores the tears, though it’s harder to ignore Kara’s sharp intake of breath or the newfound proximity of their bodies. She presses on regardless. “Why do you think I did it all? I was told that my entire universe was a lie. The very foundations of my life were taken from me. The one thing that made me believe in people, in goodness, in myself...” Lena trailed off, giving up on keeping her composure. 

Kara’s lips began to quiver. “Why didn’t you just tell me that? Instead of pretending you were fine?” The words come out as a squeak, slipping between sobs. Lena scoffed, though it came out as more of a hiccup. “And have an honest conversation? How was I supposed to do that when we’ve never had one before?” Kara brings a hand up to Lena’s cheek, stroking away her tears with her thumb. Lena doesn’t have the energy to pull away, nor does she want to. The soft comfort in Kara’s eyes is like a gravitational pull, barely allowing Lena to blink. “I wish I had the time to apologize one thousand times over,” she begins, something laced in her tone that Lena does not have the capacity to hear. “If it took the rest of my life, I would spend every day trying to convince you how sorry I am. Call me an idealist, but, even if that life is cut much shorter than I thought it would be...I still hope I can.” 

Every piece of armor fell from Lena’s body in a single breath. She raises her hand and places it over Kara’s, leaning her cheek against Kara’s palm. Her eyes shut as she tries to stop more tears from escaping, having lost enough over the past few months. “Please, Kara. Please, fight this.”

Kara presses her forehead to Lena’s. “I promise, I will always fight for you.” Kara kisses Lena so softly that it could almost have been mistaken for the wind. Lena can’t help but react immediately, pressing back harder and searching for more. She needs more. Time is ticking in her ear, the air getting thinner around her, and her breath dissipating from her lungs. But none of it matters if she can keep Kara on that balcony with her - not even the entire universe vanishing. But too much has happened. The mixed taste of tears on their lips remind them of everything that has transpired in the past months, the conversations they haven’t had, and the boxes Lena hasn’t opened. Kara pulls back first, their eyes meeting and glimmering with all those unspoken words. Lena swipes her finger slowly over the cut on Kara’s forehead, but the intimate gesture combined with longing stares becomes too much to bear for either of them. Without a word, Kara steps away. She keeps her gaze locked with Lena’s as she walks backward, one, two, then three steps. Lena becomes aware of nothing else in the world but the space between them. Somehow, even after the last few months, Kara had never seemed further away. “How could you think I would want you to die?” Lena rasps. Kara begins to float, hovering underneath dimmed stars. “It’d be easier if you did. I wouldn’t have to say goodbye.” In an instant, she vanishes, and Lena is left alone with her despair and the words that were left in the air unspoken. 

I hope you enjoyed! I am so excited for Crisis - is it too much to ask for Kara to temporarily die and for Lena to be present? Maybe? Part 2

[shelb-o-baggins]

Revenge of the Jedi: iii.

After my reunion with General Leia, I followed her closely through the crowd, taking advantage of the wake she left behind her as they all parted for her respectfully. I felt curious eyes on me, but kept my chin high and my gaze forward. I'm a Jedi, I kept telling myself, Keep it cool. I refrained from fiddling with my braid or rubbing my nose or picking at my nails - a few of my usual anxiety coping methods.

We weaved our way through a large hangar, partially built into the rocky hillside behind it, then tunnels and storage areas, as well as past meeting rooms, a cafeteria, and a medbay. Everywhere we went, people and droids swarmed, busily going about their duties. I firmly kept a block between my mind and the thoughts and feelings of the hundreds of people surrounding me. I was already overwhelmed by the sheer volume of bodies, considering my recent history of living on a nearly-abandoned island. I didn't need to add an emotional barrage to that as well.

At last, we came to what had to be the General's War Room. Holo-maps, charts, computers, comms, and a host of official-looking people filled the space near to bursting. Leia led me to the center of the room, where I saw a great many people of all different species were gathered around a centrally located Holodeck, which currently displayed a map of some faraway star system, as well as the plans for a Star Destroyer.

The crowd quieted as we drew near and the eyes of everyone there passed between the General and myself.

I'm a Jedi. Keep it cool.

"This is Jedi Adalla. She's been in training with Master Luke for the last ten years but is ready to join the Resistance," Leia spoke to the crowd. A bit of mumbling ensued, but quieted as she continued. Her voice wasn't loud by any means, but certainly carried ... just as I remembered. Her natural command and leadership could not be ignored. "I believe the time is come at last to put our plan into motion. Adalla presents a unique advantage. As someone long believed dead, and living outside the known galaxy for the last ten years,  she would be an ideal candidate to infiltrate the First Order."

A dark haired man spoke up, and I looked to him. "She may be unknown to the Order, General, but living away from the rest of the galaxy for ten years has its disadvantages, too. What does she know of the First Order? A Jedi she may be, but she can't just waltz onto a Star Destroyer, lightsaber blazing."

I fixed him with a glare at that last comment. Like I'd waltz anywhere with my saber blazing. What a tool. He met my gaze straight-on, though, and only arched one of his thick, straight brows at me. I narrowed my eyes.

Leia turned to me, and said, "Well, Adalla, Dameron brings up valid points." I jerked my gaze to her in surprise- wasn't this her idea in the first place? But then she gave me a tiny smile, and I knew what she expected of me - what this whole crowd needed to hear.

"While it's true I've been, well, off-grid for the last decade, that time hasn't been spent twiddling my thumbs - or just learning to swing around my saber." I pinned the one named Dameron with a look, and he had the grace to look at least a bit uncomfortable this time. "Although Master Luke and I were largely removed from, and unaware of, the finer points of current events during that time, we haven't been blind. Through the Force, we've been able to keep watch as larger events unfolded."

I cleared my throat, not used to speaking so much at once. Master Luke and I didn't exactly have nightly heart-to-heart talks around the campfire.

"I know who leads the First Order. I was there at the Jedi Temple the night everything fell apart. I know exactly who I'm up against - and I know I can do what needs to be done to help remove the First Order from power."

I met Leia's eyes. Hers were deep brown pools and the sadness I saw there was almost too much to bear.

I looked to the crowd once again. "What exactly is your plan?"

•••••

I kept my eyes downcast, ignoring the constant crush of people around me, as I mulled over all I'd heard that afternoon in the War Room. All their explaining, all their plans, all the back and forth - the meeting had ended up taking several hours, and by the time we were dismissed, I was tired, footsore, and absolutely starving.

So there I sat, alone in the cafeteria, mindlessly putting one tasteless morsel of food into my mouth after another. I kept going over their plan, mentally looking for any gaps or holes. It was straightforward, really, but it wouldn't be an easy task, by any means.

There was apparently a First Order deserter who recently joined the Resistance. He brought with him the most up-to-date information on First Order leadership that the Resistance had had in a long while. Previously, details of the three major players of the First Order - General Hux, Snoke, and one Kylo Ren - had been hazy at best, and ever-changing. But now we had (somewhat) solid information regarding their whereabouts. After the demise of Starkiller Base, the Order leadership had one centralized starship that acted as a home base for their operations, although Kylo Ren was frequently on the move on his own smaller ship.

This starship was absolutely massive, housing thousands of troopers, mechanics, and levels of their leadership, as well as untold numbers of smaller ships coming and going at all times. It was nearly a small planet unto itself.

Although intimidating, the success of the Resistance plan relied heavily on the sheer number of people on the base itself. Using the new intel, the General believes that a single operator -in this case, myself - could infiltrate the base as a trooper and carry out what amounts to an assassination. If not just one of the leaders, but all three, as well as any other leadership I can get to, were to be wiped out at once, the First Order would be severely crippled. Once the leadership was taken care of, I would use a long-distance frequency to transmit the all-clear, at which point the Resistance would launch a multi-front attack upon the base itself, as well as several First Order strongholds throughout the galaxy.

In theory, the First Order would be decimated to the point of no return.

There were a few problems I couldn't quite get my head around, though, as I chewed the military-issue mush from my plastic cafeteria tray, oblivious to the comings and going's around me.

Until a loud plunk from the seat next to me startled me out of my reverie. I was so startled, in fact, that I'd pulled one of the blades at my back, and found myself holding it to the neck of the mouthy man from the meeting. The one called Dameron.

Although he looked a bit taken aback by the sudden appearance of a weapon, he didn't seem particularly fazed. In fact, he gave me a dashing grin and said, "I'm glad it's just a knife and not a lightsaber you're swinging around this time."

For the second time, my eyes narrowed at him, but I removed the blade from under his chin. I stowed it back in its sheath in one swift motion, as I turned from him. And promptly continued to eat, firmly bent on ignoring him.

He sat down next to me anyway - bold man, I thought- and I looked up again in surprise as a another chair moved on the other side of him. Peering around Dameron, I saw a second man, one I recognized from the meeting as well, although he hadn't been as vocal as his friend. He had dark brown skin and a kind, perceptive gaze.

Our eyes met and he smiled at me, sticking his hand out, right in front of Dameron's face. "I'm Finn," he said, "And I apologize for my friend Poe - Mr Dameron here. Sometimes he doesn't know when to shut up."

I laughed as I shook his hand. "I'd noticed. He's a cheeky one, hm?"

Poe Dameron rolled his eyes. "That's enough, I'm right here."

Finn and Poe ribbed each other a bit, which I found highly amusing, but eventually our talk turned to the plan, so I decided to take the opportunity to voice the concerns I hadn't been confident enough to bring up in the War Room.

"I just don't know how I'm supposed to get into the base as a lowly trooper, but get close enough to their leadership to do any damage. It could take weeks, even months, for me to accomplish that. And at that rate, by the time I get close enough to them - especially Ren and Snoke - they may very well know I'm coming," I said. They were both listening attentively, but they started at my last comment.

Poe's voice was sharp. "What do you mean, they might know you're coming?"

"Well, because of the Force," I said, looking from one to the other. They looked confused, and I realized that contact with Force users must be rare indeed. I continued, "Many Force users, if they keep their minds open and aware to those around them, can get a sense of other Force-sensitives, or Force users, nearby. It doesn't happen all the time, and it isn't always a strong feeling, but considering my history with Kylo, it could be a problem."

Poe and Finn glanced at each other. Finn looked back to me and said, a little too casually, "What, uh, what history would that be?" They both watched me intently.

"We were at the Jedi Temple together. We grew up together, trained together. We two were the closest in age to each other out of all the other Padawans there. He was my best friend," I said, feeling the old anger rise up inside me, and my jaw clenching up of its own accord. "And he destroyed everything I knew and loved. And he would have killed me, too, or tried to, had he found me that night."

They were both staring at me now, unblinking, food forgotten in front of them. "That's why I know I can do what I must. All those children killed, his family and friends betrayed, all for a taste of power." I looked away then, back down to my tray, bitterness in the back of my throat. My voice sounded hard, even to my own ears. "Revenge is against the Jedi code. But I won't hold back when the time comes for me to take down the First Order- to destroy Kylo Ren."

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @obsessedbutonline!

"This time, I will write something completely funny and lighthearted!" Well, that WAS the plan, I swear, but once I sat and started writing, this happened instead. I do hope you love this story as much I do ♥ Merry Christmas Darling! 

Read on AO3

*****

A safe place

The story starts like this.

(White. That was all Derek could see.

He blinked his eyelids and slowly shapes begun to condense into forms in front of him. He was in an unknown, but cozy room, lying on a comfortable bed.

Outside the open window, he could see branches and hear birds singing, the sun touched his warm skin and he snuggled into the bed, his mind already slipping. You are safe, it said. You can rest here .)

*

Derek woke up with a start, in his room.

Groaning, he reached over the empty side of his bed to search for his phone, grabbing it and realizing he had three missed calls from Stiles. With a sigh, he dialed his best friend, falling back into the sheets. While waiting for Stiles to pick up, he tried to remember what he had been dreaming about but found nothing but a pleasurable feeling left.

“DUDE!” Stiles screamed at his ear, and Derek cringed. “Where are you? Didn’t we plan to meet to buy the gifts?”

“Oh - fuck”, cursed Derek, running a hand through his hair, awareness coming back. “I am sorry Stiles, I don’t - what time is it?”

There was silence on the line, and then Stiles continued more quietly. “You didn’t sleep well last night, did you?”

Derek hadn’t, not really. It took him a long time to fall sleep properly, but Stiles already knew that. He always had trouble relaxing before Christmas. Something about the season unsettled him. “I am sorry, I will meet you wherever you are, I - ”

“No, forget it, we can go later, no problem. I will bring you coffee, alright? Go take a shower, I will be there soon!” Then Stiles hung up, and Derek decided it best not to fight his orders. It never ended well for him anyway.

He felt more human after a shower and met Stiles, who was already in his kitchen. He was arranging their breakfast on the table, still in his deputy uniform, probably coming after a long shift. When their eyes met, Stiles gave him a blinding smile, which helped leave the last traces of anxiety from Derek’s shoulders. It’s alright, the smile said. I am not angry.

Later, bellies full and laughter in the air, there was no trace of remembrance of the dream left.

*

Stiles showing up at his flat was not a unique occurrence.

After finishing college and the FBI training, Stiles decided to come back to Beacon Hills and continue to live with his father. Derek knew of his plans, they talked on the phone regularly since Stiles' high school years, and Derek himself had decided to give the town another chance, renting a different flat, closer to downtown. He didn’t want to be a lone wolf anymore.

In Beacon Hills there was Sheriff Stilinski always inviting him for lunch, there was even Chris Argent, who started accompanying him on his daily runs. There was also Scott, who returned every few months to hold pack meetings.

And, most important of all, there was Stiles. Stiles, who came directly to his flat once returning, full of hugs and promises to hang out more. Stiles, who kept his promises, taking him to the movies, to music concerts, to walks in the park. Stiles, who never made him feel like an outsider, or forgotten, or unloveable.

Stiles, who listened to everything Derek had to say, even his silences. Stiles, who looked at him like he mattered.

Just Stiles.

*

(Derek opened his eyes, and he was back in the white room.

This time he got up, softly, distinctly wondering why he was here again. As a supernatural creature, Derek had long ago stopped asking if things were real or not. They happened in his head, so they were real to him. He only needed to find out the purpose of them in his life, and move on.

Outside the room, he followed the smell of bacon and eggs to a kitchen bright in sunlight and found a familiar silhouette on the stove. He choked on air.

“It was time you woke up” Laura turn back to him, and smiled. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

She finished speaking, but Derek had already crossed the room and pulled her into a tight embrace. His sister hugged him back, but eventually pulled back and touched his cheek. “I am sorry,” she said, “but I am not your sister”.

“Don’t joke”, admonished Derek, a little desperate.

“I am not”, she said. “Take a seat Derek, and eat your eggs. I will explain everything.”

The words You are safe here kept rolling around fiercely in his mind, so he sat and begun eating, finding he was ravenous.

“If you are not Laura, then who are you? Why use her face?” Now that he paid attention, he realized it must be true. Laura’s face had imperfections, just like any other human, but the face staring at him right now had a perfect symmetry, otherworldly in their beauty. It looked like his sister, but it was not his sister’s loved face.

“We haven’t met before. I am not a creature or a thing. You can say I am something closer to energy. I apologize for appearing to you in your sister’s corporation, but she was the safest manifestation from your heart.”

She paused and took his hand between hers. “You are safe here, Derek. No harm will ever come to you. You have been in this place for quite a while if I say so myself. That is why I decided to finally approach you.”

Derek began to shake his head, to deny, but deep inside he couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity he had with this reality. The fact that he was sitting and quietly eating with a stranger in an unknown place told him everything he needed to know. His gut didn’t lie. He often chose not to listen to it, but it never lied.)

*

Agony, pain, and humiliation. When Derek thought about romantic love and the possibility of opening his heart again, he was flooded with those negative feelings, and crippling anxiety overtook him to the point of Stiles having to forbid the pack of touching on the subject.

After those situations, Stiles always took him home, and put something stupid on TV for them to watch, with Derek’s head in his lap and Stiles’s fingers buried in his hair, soothing and calm and caring. Derek was immensely grateful for him in those moments.

There had been so many people in his romantic life, that Derek sometimes felt like he was soiled, passed around from hands to hands, a hand-me-down person. There wasn’t much of him left, he thought. Sometimes, he had to scrub his skin raw on the shower to take the edge, the memories of it and feel clean. Sometimes, it was difficult to breathe.

And it wasn’t just Kate Argent or Jennifer Blake. Sometimes it was a smaller trauma, things from his earlier years, how every partner he had ever had, male or female, always put his beauty in front of everything else. Like he was just a pretty shell, made to shine and not ask questions. An arm candy. How they would always kindly walk away when they saw the raw, unpolished version of him.

For this reason, he had been single for a long time. Ever since he almost died, achieved the ability to shift into a full wolf and stared at Kate’s gruesome form, something changed in his heart, something clicked into place, and he felt colder inside. He never told another soul, but it was like he wasn’t capable of feeling love as intensely as before. So he didn’t even try.

He didn’t dare.

*

Derek and Not-Laura walked around the cottage (it was a cottage, surrounded by the most beautiful garden had ever seen), languidly and just breathing. Derek took in the flowers, felt the sunlight on his skin, and relaxed in a way he hardly ever did.

“Do you know where you are?”, asked the creature beside him. “Can you take a guess?”

Derek tried to think. Even with the corporeal place around him, everything still felt fuzzy, and mostly full of white light. Even his clothes were of neutral colors.

If he had to take a guess, he would say - “Sanctuary”. Now that it was out of his mouth, he felt the finality of those words and looked at the presence beside him. She was smiling proudly at him.

“Yes, very good Derek. Do you know why you happen to be here?”

Derek shook his head. “I am sleeping right now in real life, ain’t I?”

She seems pensive. “Yes, and no. Your mind is indeed sleeping, but your heart has been here for quite a long time, you see.”

Derek stopped walking at that. “What do you mean,” he asked, furrowing his brows.

The creature stood taller but didn't look at him, focusing on a rose bush instead.

“Hopeless. Unloveable. A waste of time. Does that sound familiar to you? The people who end up here all share a few connections with you, Derek, and it is all in the way they see love. Romantic love. On their terrible past experiences, how they mold their presents and make them afraid of taking that leap of faith that loving someone requires.” She finally looked at Derek. ”This is a Sanctuary for the souls that have been so burnt by a love that they need somewhere to heal and be safe for a while. Look around Derek.”

At that, Derek becomes aware of the other forms in the garden, he starts hearing laugher and the footsteps of the other residents of the Sanctuary. At last, he looks past them (they are not paying attention to him anyway) and sees a profile outside the fence protecting the garden, but he can’t see anything beyond it.

His companion sees the shift in his attention, and sighs. “Ah, I see you can spot him now. I thought you were completely blind, I am glad that was not the case”

Not paying attention to her words, he asks. “Who is him?”

“He is your future, but only if you dare to step outside and confront your fears, I am afraid.”

“What,” he states flatly, heart beating wildly in his chest.

“Don’t you recognize him, Derek?”

Before his eyes, the figure starts taking shape, and he would recognize that silhouette anywhere. It’s Stiles, of course.

It has always been Stiles, hasn’t it?

“What are you so afraid of, Derek?! She asks gently, like a mother admonishing her stubborn son.

And Derek… Derek has nothing to say. What is he afraid of? That Stiles will leave him? Stiles has seen Derek on his worst, most unforgiving days and stayed through them. That Stiles will betray him? He, the human boy who would rather die than leave a packmate behind? That Stiles would never be able to love him?

Well. If Stiles didn’t love him, he would have found someone better by now, wouldn’t he?

Derek suddenly remembered all those times people at Beacon Hills made flirt commentaries towards Stiles, or members of foreign packs asked for his company, and Stiles refused each time, and always, always left with Derek by his side.

With the new knowledge, something eased in his chest, and Derek felt years lighter.

“That’s it, boy, here you go. Have a fulfilling life, do you hear me?” Not-Laura hugged him, and Derek enjoyed the contact for a while before thanking her and made his way outside, towards the only person he trusted completely, vulnerabilities and all.

*

Awareness came slowly, and Derek felt the fingers on his hair stilling.

“Hey, sleepyhead. You missed most of the movie, by the way. I actually can’t believe you managed to nap during John Wick! Only you, dude”, Stiles rolled his eyes, but the fondness of his voice betrayed him. “Sleep well?”

Derek stared at him from his spot on his lap, taking in his darling face, and smiled. He raised a hand to touch his cheeks, and Stiles froze a little.

“Uhm - Derek?” He asked, a bit shaken.

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore”, spoke Derek softly.

“Okaaaay”, swallowed Stiles audibly. “And that means….?”

For a second, Derek hesitated. But, inhaling slowly, he sat, nuzzling at Stiles’s cheek. He could hear the other’s agitated heart, and it gave him more courage than anything else, it made him feel powerful to know that he wasn’t the only nervous one.

He stayed close to Stiles’ face, lips almost brushing, sharing a breath. “You are the only person I trust completely, you know that, don’t you? There is no one else I want to spend time with, no one other than you." He licked his lips. "Do you think we could, maybe…”

“Derek”, interrupted Stiles, shaking. “Are you saying what I think you are? I mean, are you sure…?”

“Yeah,” breathed Derek.

“But I am not…” Stiles averted his gaze.

Derek followed the path of his eyes, maintaining their eye contact. “You are not - what?”

“You are not saying this because I am the only option left, right? The safest choice? Because this kind of came out of nowhere, and I don’t want to be a boring choice Derek, I don't.”

Derek couldn’t look into his eyes for this conversation, so he rested his forehead on Stiles’ shoulders, gratified when Stiles hugged him to his chest.

“You are safe, but - Stiles. Do you know what it means to me that I can trust you? That I can believe in what you say? But that is not everything.” Derek swallowed, centering himself on Stiles’s scent, and the hand rubbing his arms back and forth. “I want to spend my life with you. I want to wake up to your voice every day. I realized that I have wanted those things for a long time, but I was too afraid to say anything. I am sick of the past. I want a different future. With you. Do you want that too?”

Stiles sighed, easing the tension around his shoulders, and rearranged Derek so their foreheads were touching. He spoke with a gentle, but determined voice. “More than anything Derek. I want you. I need you. More than anything else. For so long -”

Derek had to kiss him, he had to. So he did.

And when their lips touched, and he felt Stiles so pliant, and wet and soft, he felt another part of him, once forgotten, finally rise and spread its bright wings in his heart.

Smiling into the kiss, Derek felt whole again.

[bittermarrow]

Break the Chain // (Thomas Hewitt x Reader)

A/n: Why do I write angst? It is so painfullll, yet so good and I’m indecisive and like torturing myself. Also, this takes place after Thomas gets his arm chopped off and chases after Erin.

Warnings: Graphic Gore/Blood, Angst, lots of feelings.

Words: 2200+

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Your entire body burns with a distinct kind of pain, your throat raw and pumping large gulps of air through your lungs despite the discomfort that doing so inflicts. You can feel warm gushes of blood dripping down your chest from the fresh gash streaking across your sternum. Your nose feels clogged yet somehow still oozing a thin stream of crimson, your cracked and peeling split bottom lip is covered in the blood leaking from your nose.

Your chest aches and stings with boiling hot shots of irregular pain, the more you move the stronger your agony becomes. But still, you keep moving, the heavy downpour of a rare nightly rain leaves your clothes and hair soaked. You are jogging down the muddy road, your flimsy sandals slipping and squealing as the wet bottoms of your heel slide over the sole. You can feel the start blades of damp grass sticking to your feet and the dirty splashes of murky puddles against your ankles.

Your chunky dog collar chafes against your neck and the heavy, snapped chain jingles and sways with your movements. You can barely see much with how dark it is, but the length of the road acts as your guide. You’re wheezing so hard it sounds like you'll collapse any minute, but you know better. You weren't going to rest until you found him.

You were feeling a lot of things that confused you right now. You were angry, no, fuming that Thomas had run off after that girl, Erin, risking his health to catch her, to protect his family. You felt an unsettling amount of relief being able to finally run again, without being chained down like a dog. You felt guilty that you had run, without even telling the others that you were going after Thomas, leaving them to probably think you’d tried to escape. But most of all, you were terrified beyond belief.

All that blood, the sight of the dismembered arm of your most trusted person and all the vermillion smears over the lockers sending you into a panic. You were scared for Thomas’s sake, you knew he wouldn't stop his chase until he’s either caught the woman who hurt his family or killed himself trying. His family’s safety meant way too much to him for him to give up, but you couldn't just let him die out there. There was a chance that he was already… no, no he’s alive! He has to be alive, he’s stronger than that, you have to remind yourself, but it does little to comfort you.

You almost stop breathing and trip over your own feet when you hear the faint sound of a purring motor, you run even faster when you recognize it to be a chainsaw. You look further down the road but it's hard to see anything. You can feel your knees about ready to give out, but you ignore the burning pain. You almost sob in relief when you spot Thomas a few meters down. You slid to a stop and drop to your hands and knees to crawl over to his shaking form.

You finally reach him and use what's left of your strength to turn him over, so he isn't lying face down. You can't tell if Thomas is unconscious or just out of it, and when you can't force out his name through your chattering teeth you drop yourself against him. You press your cheek to his chest and listen for a heartbeat, your other hand scrambles of one of his— his only hand. And your fingers fumble over his wrist to search for a pulse.

He’s still breathing, but his pulse feels very irregular. Like he’s fighting for his life, literally. Either that or he’s fading in and out of consciousness, you can only hope it’s the latter. You startle just a bit when you feel his soaking wet arm drop around your back. It almost feels like it’s gone dead weight. You lift your head up from his chest and look up to his face, looking for any signs of consciousness or awareness.

You can just slightly make out the fluttering of his eyelids through the shadows of his mask and the darkness of night and rain. He suddenly looks you dead in the eyes, but only for a moment before he’s squeezing them shut. You can practically sense your own perturbation rising over the edge of the teacup holding in all of your emotions, ready to spill.

You can feel Thomas’s arm squeezing around you, and his fingers are twisting in the back of your heavy shirt. You don’t realize that his intent was to somehow shield you from the rain, and if he had gathered up enough strength to do it, you wouldn’t have been able to keep from sobbing. Thomas would do anything to keep you safe, even from rain that could potentially make you sick, even as he’s bleeding out on the road. In a way it’s almost a good thing he started to flicker in and out of alertness again.

You take in a deep breath and look over to what's left of his right arm, it’s but chopped off straight through the bone. You scramble around for something to wrap around his wound before he bleeds out, he’s already lost so much. You yank the damp sweatshirt off of your waist and pushed his good arm off of you.

You moved to his other side and hovered a trembling hand over the marred display of gore that was left of Thomas’s arm, some of the skin only hanging by mere strings on the exposed, clipped bone. Your fingertips hesitated when you lowered your hand to the stub of meaty tore-up flesh, and then gently lifted the damaged limb into your lap, trying your very best not to press too hard on it. You wrung out your soaking wet sweatshirt the best you could before hastily wrapping up his arm in it. The moment you applied pressure and began tying the sleeves together as a makeshift bandage Thomas started thrashing.

The sudden shot of pain must have shaken him back into consciousness, and you hold his arm down to the best of your ability, trying desperately to tie the damn knot so you could stop causing him so much agony. Once you had it tight enough to slow the bleeding, you let him jerk his arm away and hiss and moan to himself. He looked completely out of it. Like he was in too much crippling pain to even register that you existed. That wasn’t a good sign. You’d read about how the more blood the human body loses, the more delusional and susceptible to extreme side effects they become.

You are reminded of the roaring chainsaw a good ten feet away from where you kneel beside your lover, half of the saw is in a deep, murky puddle of muck drowning the motorized sound to be distorted into an unpleasant gurgling. You were about to lift yourself up from the street and go to switch it off, but in that same moment, Thomas starts shifting around and making louder, more clear whines. His wrapped arm is trembling on the slick dirt road like it was full of tremoring nerves that jerked and throbbed.

You crawl over so you are behind him and gingerly raise his heavy head up and place it over your lap, noting the streaks of blood beneath his skull. He must’ve hit his head pretty hard on the way down. You start to panic all of a sudden, all of your emotions melding into one big ball of dread and terror as you began to pant. Your heart is pounding in your chest almost painfully vigorously. This was not the time to have an anxiety attack! You supposed this whole situation could be described as your biggest fear, but the more you panic the harder it will be to keep a level head and fix all of this. You needed to help Thomas first, he came first.

You gulp down those feelings like you had done so many times before, putting them on hold for a more important call. You shakily attempt to speak to him, to see if you could get any other verbal responses. You don’t even try to even out the tremors in your throat.

“Thomas, Baby, can you hear me? Please, I can’t—” You broke off into a choked sob, your hot tears mixing with the chilly, fat drops of rain. You cradled his head in your hands and hunched over him just slightly before turning to one side as your emotional turmoil started to leak through the cracks. “To-Tommy? Tommy, please. I’m so scared, I-I’m so sorry, please stay with me. I can’t— not now. Ch-Charlie’s comin’ Don’t worry… don’t worry.”

It wasn’t quite clear who you were truly trying to comfort. You didn't even know if Hoyt was coming, you only hoped that he was. You once again curse yourself for not saying something before you left. You knew you couldn't drag Thomas back to the house by yourself, you didn't know if he could walk if he would make it, you didn't even know if you’d make it! You noticed Thomas was shaking, oh what more could go wrong!? If the blood loss doesn't kill him first, hypothermia will!

You tried to keep Thomas calm when he started to squirm, most likely from the searing pain he was experiencing. You hushed and cooed at him, cradling his head close to your stomach. You bent forward to stop him from touching his other arm, begging him to stay still for just a bit longer. You felt almost guilty for pleading with him to stay awake, but you knew you had to at least try to keep him conscious as long as possible.

The persistent deluge didn't relent in the slightest as five, six, and seven minutes passed by. Finally, you saw headlights approaching, the distinct pure of a truck growing closer and closer. You almost cried out in relief when you recognized whose truck it was, once it was close enough you wave to it to bring the driver’s attention to yourself.

It slowed to and pulled over, without a doubt, Hoyt and Luda Mae hopped out of the truck and rushed over to you. They both looked almost shocked to see you and only hesitated for a moment before they were fussing over Thomas. Luda was already yelling, starting to cry upon seeing her special boy in such a state.

“My boy! What have they done to my boy?!” You were quickly shoved away from Thomas, and as much as you loathed being apart from him and were on the verge of a severe emotional breakdown, you gave Luda some space to grieve and shout over her son. Charlie was a bit of a mess, you'd never seen the man so worried it, and yet so lost. Charlie always knew what to do, but right now… he looked like even he didn’t know how to fix this.

Fortunately, the posing sheriff was quick to get his head back in the right place and got his gears turning.

“C’mon, Mama, help me get ‘em in the truck!” Charlie shouted over the loud downpour, finally taking charge of the situation like he always did. You quickly rushed to help them maneuver a dazed Thomas into the backseat, the hulking man is trying his very best to stumble and walk with the aid of his family, and once he is in the back everyone else is jumping into the vehicle too.

You slide into the backseat with your injured giant, letting him lie his head in your lap and whispering calming things to him as Charlie sped way over the limit back to the Hewitt residence. There was no way they could take him to a hospital with their soon-to-be criminal record, and there was no telling if he’d make the entire long ride there anyway. So he’d have to be taken care of here, you know a bit about first aid from a bunch of medical classes you took way back in high school when you had planned to be a nurse. But you weren’t a surgeon, not even a nurse.

You just hoped to whatever god, ancestor, or force that existed that you could save him. You loved him too much to lose him now.

.   .   .

“So,” You heard Hoyt begin after walking out of the room Thomas was just stabilized and hopefully saved in, you hadn’t been allowed in. The family had assured you that your presence would do more harm than good. You hesitantly agreed.

“What?” You asked, the pure exhaustion and strain in your voice made you sound as worn out as you felt.

“What made ya stay? Ya ran off like you was takin’ your chance to run, why’d you bother with the boy?” The Sheriff questioned, not even sounding snarky or demanding, a genuine inquiry that you weren’t expecting from him. And so, you answered with nothing but truth soaking into every word, perhaps it even shocked you more than it did him.

“Because I love him more than that.” And you did, more than the life void of chains and gore that you could have escaped to. It would mean nothing without him.

Your collar and broken chain were never replaced.

[doubledeaky]

Life is Beautiful

Joe Mazzello x Female!Reader

A/N: Hi, everyone! So, this is my first imagine and I’m super excited and a little nervous to share it with you all. I’ve been wanting to post my writing for a while so I’m biting the bullet and finally doing it! I actually wrote the first draft of this piece at 3 am while half-asleep so you know it’s got that sleep-deprived passion already baked into it! Warning, this is super fluffy and came out a little cheesier than I intended but I’m still proud of it. Alright, hope everyone enjoys! Feedback and requests are much appreciated! :)

word count: 2,154 words

warnings: mentions of mental illness and suicide

Your eyes darted drowsily from the right side of your living room to the left side of your living room. You’d been sat on the couch for some time; how long, you didn’t necessarily know. After work, you’d retired your fake smile and allowed the numbness hibernating in your body to emerge and settle in every corner of your being. You don’t even remember at what point in the evening you had begun crying, your mind was in a thick fog of sadness. The couch had come to know you better over the past two months, seeing as you rarely left its comfort during your free time. The television in the corner was on and Three’s Company played, but you weren't watching. Your phone had been ringing steadily all evening but you didn’t have the will to answer. You slumped in your seat and stared at the ceiling while the ringing noise that had made itself comfortable in your ears slowly drowned out any surrounding sound, including the familiar jingling of keys and a door being opened cautiously. Joe was home; he greeted you as he strode into the living room but you never shifted your gaze to acknowledge him. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before retreating into the kitchen. Your mind registered his presence but everything else was having a hard time putting on a front for his sake. Today was just one of the worst among a string of bad days. Days like this were more prevalent in your life now than they had ever been and it scared you. You still didn’t acknowledge Joe when he walked back into the living room. The part of you that was fully aware and conscious didn’t want to chance a look at your husband, you knew his expression would break your heart and you didn’t know if you could bear the weight of his gaze today. Joe was the one to finally break the crippling silence. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong? You didn’t even acknowledge me when I walked in. Why have you been so distant?” His words pulled you from your comatose state and you could sense the tinge of anger laced within them. It took everything in you not to wince or cower; he had a right to be angry and you had no reason to make him feel guilty because of that. You had been distant; his words held true and maybe that was what made fresh tears stream down your face. You didn’t want to face the reality of your situation, it was easier to dwell within it. Your voice was weak when you answered him.

“I don’t mean to be, Joe. You know that.” You tried to sound reasonable, like you believed the words coming out of your mouth. Joe, however, didn’t buy it and pressed further. 

“Why have you changed so much, Y/N? You're not yourself, I don't even recognize you anymore.” That stung and you couldn’t help the choked sob that escaped your throat. Joe immediately regretted his words and attempted to inch towards you cautiously, almost like a human approaching a wounded animal. You felt his presence before you but you didn’t dare meet his eyes.

“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry I-” you interrupted his apology as you stood, meeting his eyes for the first time this evening. He looked worn, his red and teary eyes mirrored your own. You drew in a deep breath, terrified the anxiety swirling in your gut was going to spill out beyond your control. 

“No, you're right. I have been distant; I’m not myself. I’ve been putting on a show for months now. I can’t keep pretending, Joe. I can’t keep pretending I’m not miserable because it helps you sleep better at night. I can't keep pretending because it’s convenient. I’m so fucking sad, Joe. I’m lonely and I feel it to the point of madness. God, it’s too much, I just wan’t it to stop. Why can’t I make it stop?” At this point in your rambling, you had been reduced to a pile on the floor, your body caving in on itself, attempting to retreat from your own existence. Joe followed you to your position on the carpet, took you in his arms, and rocked you softly. Your skin burned from the contact, it was the first time you had felt pleasant stimulus in weeks and you sobbed. You had missed this, you missed being with Joe. Even though he had never left, you had. Someone you didn’t recognize had been taking your place these past few months and it felt like you were finally reuniting after being apart for years. Joe felt it too and he relished in the feeling of you pressed against him, this was a step in the right direction. Any contact you both had shared over the last few weeks had been empty. Joe interrupted with a sad voice, still clutching you like he’d lose you again if he didn’t

“You don’t have to feel this way, Y/N. I would do absolutely anything for you and you know that. Why haven’t you told me?” he all but sobbed into the crook of your neck. What was left of your heart disintegrated, this wasn’t what you wanted for him. The guilt in your chest rose and settled at the front of your mind, this is why you never said anything.

“I’m sorry, Joe. I just don’t want to worry you or stress you out. I just want you to be happy. I’m supposed to be your partner not your child, you shouldn’t have to take care of me when I fall apart. I don’t want that for you, it’s not what you signed up for.” You explained and Joe had to restrain the absolute heartbreak he felt, all he wanted was to take care of you, to see you happy. 

“Y/N, baby, don't you see? I’ve been miserable right along with you. I know you don’t want me to worry but I can’t help it when I know you feel like this. God, I haven’t been able to eat I’m so worried. Your happiness is my happiness, Y/N. It’s my job to make sure everything is rosy, sweets. No matter what you may believe to be true, you aren't my burden, if anything I’m yours. I don’t know how you do it, babe. I just wan’t you to be okay.” He says through a cracked, wet voice. He was facing you now, trying to read your features for anything familiar. You can’t help the grin that cracks your somber facade, his saccharine sweet words always brought you back from a slump. God, what had you done in your previous life to deserve a man as amazing as Joe. Your first instinct was to embrace him and who were you to deny nature. You buried your face in the material of his sweater and he returned your gesture with even more passion. Joe cheered internally, he finally saw the woman he loved emerging from the dark

“You’ll be okay, my love. I’ve missed you so much.” he says attempting to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. You couldn’t help but sob at his words, you had missed yourself too. The rest of the evening was spent this way, enveloped in each other’s warmth. It had been a feeling you missed and you wondered how you'd gone so long without it. You both fell asleep entangled amongst the sheets and one another, like so many of the nights you’d both shared before. The only difference now was that you drifted to sleep looking forward to the morning sun seeping through your window, washing you and Joe in a warm glow reminiscent of a Renaissance painting. Your last moments before a much needed sleep overtook you was the familiar sound of Joe’s breathing and a warmth returning to your heart. 

Three Months Later-

Recovery hasn’t been easy and you didn’t expect it to be. Three short months ago you had experienced your lowest point and the way up has been slow and tasking in all aspects. Despite humble beginnings, your recovery has been beautiful, you feel whole again and it’s a state of being that you missed dearly. You had finally found yourself again and your pride shone bright in everything you did and Joe had been witness to it all. The change occurring in you before Joe’s eyes was like night and day. He finally had his girl back, you were all there. The woman he had fallen in love with had finally returned. The woman who was extraordinarily kind, unbelievably funny, and effortlessly beautiful had finally come home. Joe had a rejuvenated energy and similar to yourself, he felt whole again. He was grateful for every step of the process; he was grateful for the endless tears, sleepless nights, and screaming matches, it was worth every setback and hopeless thought. It’s a hell he would go through everyday if it meant you were happy. 

For you, life had finally begun to fall into place. You were living the life you’d dreamed of since the tender age of fourteen. It was a feeling like no other but throughout the process you felt there was still something missing, it was a feeling you couldn’t shake. It was a feeling that didn’t dwell within you long because life always has great timing when something is meant to be. Life is funny like that. 

Pregnant. The plus sign in the little window of the test was blurred behind your tears, your tears of joy. You were pregnant. Your body couldn’t even register the shock it was feeling. The excitement and happiness that was bubbling in your system almost expressed itself as a scream. You cried silent, happy tears and couldn’t help but do a little cheer in the privacy of your shared bathroom. You couldn’t wait to tell Joe. The family you’d always longed for was phasing into existence and your body hummed with joy. 

You heard Joe before you saw him. He dropped his bag to the floor and you heard him call out for you. You exited the bathroom; test hidden behind your back and a big, goofy smile plastered on your face. Joe became aware of your presence and gave you a confused look, cocking his head and giving you a grin. 

“What are you up to? Have you been crying?” he asked suddenly concerned and as he takes a few steps towards you, your smile only grows. 

“What?” he says curious as to what you have planned. You silently bring the test from behind your back and hold it out to him. Seeing the positive test is all Joe needs and without warning he’s picking  you up in his arms and holding you tight. 

“No way,” he all but shouts, grinning like a mad man. You can't help the tears and watery laugh that escapes you. 

“You’re going to be a dad, Mr. Mazzello,” you say, waving the test teasingly in his face. He grabs your face gently and kisses you hard with a passion you’d grown so accustomed to you felt it even when he wasn’t around. 

“I can’t believe it. We’re having a baby,” he says, pushing fallen hair from his face as tears slip from his amber eyes. He's smiling wide with an almost blinding intensity and it’s a sight for sore eyes. You cherish it, praying it never leaves the factions of your memory. Joe falls to his knees, placing both hands on your lower stomach. There is no bump present but the thought of the baby growing within you has his body thrumming with excitement. He is in complete awe at the woman before him. The woman who had gone from her lowest low to her highest high with such grace and poise. You were his heaven on earth and he hoped you sensed that. He hoped his love for you was evident in his every action and in every word he spoke. As he held your form, he felt that God had crafted this moment in the sands of time, it was a scene that envied any romance film. Joe had been in and seen many films, but none that moved him as much as the one you and himself were starring in. He grinned up at you, rising to his full height to plant a kiss on your lips. 

“I love you. God, I love you,” he whispers so delicately you knew it was only meant for you. You hold him tightly, words failing to accurately convey the measure of love you held for him and him alone. The rest of the evening is spent this way, wrapped in each other’s embrace, similar to most of the nights you share. Only now, you both wait with bated breath for the day when the sun will seep through your shared bedroom window and shine on your family of three, washing you all in a yellow glow and reminding you of how beautiful life can be. 

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

Bodyguard II: Familial Ties (Part II - Chapter 1) (Brendon Urie x Reader)

You reached out a hand to grab the metal railing as you rounded the corner before starting up the glass steps. The S.H.I.E.L.D key card dangling from your utility belt created an audible smack as it hit against the top of your thigh with each rise of your leg; you made a mental note to request a re-do of your customized uniform – one that ensured that the garment wasn’t almost entirely made out of latex.

Agent Smith – or Spencer, as you’d come to know him as – passed you as he walked the stairs in the opposite direction, sniggering as he watched you snarl and angrily rip the card from your belt, having finally had enough of the horridly annoying sound.

You tossed him the filthiest look you could muster up, along with a very impolite hand gesture, which only made him laugh harder and send an over exaggerated wink your way. That was the dynamic of the relationship you had built with him over the past couple of months; both of you would seize any opportunity you could to annoy the crap out of the other. In fact, you were ninety-nine percent sure that he was the one who had arranged for your uniform to be manufactured out of such god-awful material.

It was all in good fun, though; playful banter pushed aside, you both genuinely cared for and looked out for each other. And that was more crucial than one might think – especially in such trying times.

You and Spencer found solace in the fact that you were both stuck in the same dreadful reality – a world without Brendon Urie.

Even though you had busied yourself with focusing on getting a grip on your powers practically immediately after the funeral, there was no escaping the crippling ghost of grief. There was a constant dull ache inside of you that, despite what you were doing or who you were with, would not go away. It felt as if a vile concoction of anxiety, dread and anguish was coursing through the blood in your veins in a continuous loop, returning in stronger concentrations with every beat of your heart.

There were nights when it literally made you sick. Where you would stay hunched over the toilet bowl, expelling only small volumes of bile because what little food you’d managed to stomach throughout the day had already come up hours ago. And you’d stay there on the floor, not wanting to go back to bed because you knew that when your head hit the pillow and your eyes closed, all you’d see was his face.

Those nights were usually the nights you’d call Spencer, and he’d tell you that he couldn’t sleep either and that he wishes that he had stopped Brendon from getting on that quinjet. Then you’d tell him not to blame himself, and that it wasn’t his fault.

Both of you knew it was a lie.

Because it was his fault.

And it was your fault, too.

It was everyone’s fault.

Because if one of you, just one, would’ve run faster or yelled louder or done something, then Brendon would still be alive.

Both of you knew it was a lie.

But you said it anyways.

Every time.

Because that’s the thing about feeling guilty over a loved one’s death; no matter how much you convince yourself that you are in some way to blame, there’s always a part of you that wants – that needs – someone to try and convince you that you aren’t. And that – that is crucial in the healing process. If there’s someone else that still has faith in you, then there’s a reason for you to collect all the broken parts and fix yourself up again.

That’s why you were so thankful that you had Spencer – and him, you – because you helped each other heal, even if it was fraction by fraction. You weren’t immensely close, the two of you. Those late night talks weren’t too frequent and your conversations regarding the topic were few and far in between, but still, the two of you shared a warped bond that allowed a sense of camaraderie and a pillar of trust to form. You knew that in a few months time you probably wouldn’t be as close as you are now, but the relationship’s foundation was set in stone, and despite neither of you having verbally said it, you both knew that you would always be there for one another if the other needed it.

“What are you looking at, Smith?” you snapped, hatefully squinting at the man as you climbed the steps.

He scoffed and looked you up and down before declaring, “Nothing much.”

“Funny,” you cocked your head to the side as you poked your tongue at the inside of your cheek and pretended to think. Then, you shut him down with a single sentence. “That’s exactly what Linda said when I asked her what she thought of you.”

Spencer stopped dead in his tracks and watched you with a blank expression as you continued upwards, sniggering as you took each step.

“That was uncalled for,” he said solemnly.

“Your face is uncalled for,” you replied tauntingly, reaching for the door to the tech room.

“You’re such a child,” he groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically.

Looking over your shoulder, you stuck your tongue out at him, causing both of you to burst out laughing before you waved goodbye and stepped in to see Dallon.

The room was dark, with the only bit of illumination coming from the abundance of active computer and holographic screens. You took careful steps, looking down as you did so to make sure that you didn’t accidently step on some important documents scattered on the floor or trip over some complex gadget.

“Dallon?” you called out to the techie, not able to see him in the bad lighting.

Soon after, a head popped out from behind a particularly big computer screen with a seemingly startled expression on its face.

“Oh, (Y/N), hey, um…” Dallon tripped over his words, hands rushing to get rid of the evidence of what he’d been busy with. “What are you doing here?”

“My watch is acting up,” you explained, taking a big step over a piece of equipment you didn’t recognize so that you could walk over to Dallon’s desk. “Who were you video calling?”

Dallon’s head immediately turned to look at his screen, and he realised that he’d forgotten to close the video call tab. Working quickly to make sure that you didn’t peek over his shoulder to check who the last call was to, he pressed a key on the keyboard and wiped the tab from the screen.

“Oh, that was just-“ the techie struggled to think of someone, eventually settling on: “my mom! Yeah, that was my mom!” He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

“Uh huh,” you frowned slightly and ran your tongue around the inside of your mouth; Dallon was acting oddly strange and jumpy, but before you could ask if he was doing alright, he jumped in.

“You said you’re having watch problems?” he raised both brows and gestured to your watch.

Shaking your head lightly to refocus, you began removing your watch and nodded as you handed it over to Dallon. “Yeah. It’s been dropping calls and displaying interference while I’m on missions.”

“Huh,” Dallon pushed his glasses up the ridge of his nose as he examined the watch. When he came to a conclusion as to what the problem was, he gave you a small smile. “Just needs a software update. I’ll do it and get it back to you within the hour.”

“Great, ‘cause Romanoff and I are heading out at sundown. Thanks, Dall,” you pinched the techie’s cheek affectionately and he smiled in appreciation before you started to walk off.

“Oh!” he called after you, prompting you to turn around, “I forgot to mention… Doctor Ross is looking for you. ”

Shooting range. S.H.I.E.L.D HQ.

Swiping your key card over the sensor, you opened the glass door and entered the range, holding it open to allow two agents to exit.

They thanked you and you smiled politely before starting forward, taking slow steps toward the man you came here to see. His forehead was creased in concentration as he aimed the handgun at the target, determined to hit within the demarcated areas.

Much to both of your surprise, he managed to get shots that were quite close to perfect, and after staring at the target in shock for a second, he broke out into a triumphant smile.

“You’ve gotten better,” you commented with a grin, now picking up your pace.

Aaron’s head turned in the direction of your voice and when he saw it was you, he returned your grin with a much more charming one.

“Oh, yes, definitely,” he breathed, sniggering under his breath as he pointed up, “I’m not hitting the ceiling anymore. Fury will be pleased to hear that.”

“I’m sure he will,” you giggled softly, moving to rest yourself against the wall, “Agent Weekes mentioned that you were looking for me?”

The doctor frowned for a moment as if trying to recall why exactly he had been; when he remembered, he snapped his fingers and perked up.

“Oh! Right! I was thinking of going to see my father in Alcatraz tomorrow – just to get some answers of my own – and I wanted to ask you if you’d like to accompany me,” Aaron explained; you opened your mouth to respond but he cut you off with a raised hand and a nod of understanding, “But I then realised that it would be inappropriate to ask you to do that, considering he… you know, practically ruined your life… so, I mean, I wasn’t going to ask. I’ll manage by myself.”

With a wheeze and a slight shake of your head, you spoke. “I have no problem with going with you, Aaron. Yeah, he did majorly screw up my life but…” you took a deep breath and shrugged, “you need the support, and I’m gonna be there for you. I mean, you’d do the same for me, I know you would.”

Aaron smiled fondly at you before frowning in worry and reaching out to take your hand. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean to put you in such an uncomfortable-“

“I’m sure. What time do we leave?”

✧ ✧ ✧

 Alcatraz prison. San Diego, California.

There was a loud buzzing sound and a mechanical whirr as the steel gate opened up to allow entry into the prison. It was daunting, being in this place. The air was so thick with despair and heaviness that it made your skin crawl, and it was as if you could sense the presence of all of the horrific people who’d once been sentenced to life behind these bars, almost like they were now a part of the building itself.

Judging from the way he’d tensed up, you could tell that Aaron felt the effects, too. After tossing a fleeting look at you, he led the way into the expansive corridor, with you following close behind.

As soon as you stepped into view, your ears were filled with the repulsive sound of hundreds of scratchy, rough voices catcalling you. The prisoners rushed forward to the bars, trying to get as close to you as they could, while vile comments spewed from their mouths.

They couldn’t reach out far enough to touch you, thankfully, but that fact didn’t deter them from trying. You were most likely the only woman that they had seen in years – possibly decades – and their sexual desires had skyrocketed at the sight of you.

Aaron tightened his jaw and stepped in front of you in an attempt to shield you from their view but since the cells ran along the left and right sides of the corridor, it wasn’t much help. Still, you appreciated the gesture and reached out to squeeze his hand to show him that you did.

In response, he intertwined his fingers with yours and gave a gentle squeeze back. The physicality of your and Aaron’s actions simply spurred the inmates on, and their hollering only increased, both in volume and in vulgarity.

You blocked them out for the most part, not bothering to pay attention to what exactly they were yelling at you. But when they began making gestures was when you started losing patience.

One man in particular, a gruff-looking one with thinning hair, saw it fit to make a V with his fingers and stick his tongue in the middle – a motion that stopped you dead in your tracks.

Letting go of Aaron’s hand, you took a slight step forward. Tilting your head to the right, you focused your gaze on his tongue and not a second later, it began freezing from the tip up, slowly, until it was completely covered in ice.

Then, with a sickly sweet, innocent smile, you snapped your fingers and the ice shattered, leaving the prisoner with a void where his tongue used to be. Aaron widened his eyes and let out a short, incredulous laugh, and you turned to smile at him before arching your brows and addressing the rest of the men.

“Anyone else?” you yelled out, holding out your hands. The silence in the air was cold. “No? Lovely.”

Once again slipping your hand into Aaron’s, you resumed walking, with you leading the way this time. The doctor couldn’t help the smirk that formed on his lips as you did; confident (Y/N) was his favourite (Y/N).

You came to an armed door at the end of the corridor and quickly typed in the S.H.I.E.L.D access code to unlock it and allow you and Aaron entrance into the next block of cells – the more heavily guarded ones that housed high-profile criminals, such as Doctor Jacob Ross.

His cell was not too far away from where you were currently standing and as you started towards it, you felt your stomach twist as you began to regret coming here. A lot of what happened last year was due to this man’s orchestrations, including a certain someone’s death, and despite what you’d told yourself the day before, you didn’t know if you could look at him without blowing your top and destroying the entire Alcatraz facility.

You fell a few steps behind Aaron, allowing him to be at the forefront yet again, and swallowed harshly as you looked at him. You were doing this for him. He’d helped you through every part of your trauma over the last couple of months, been there when you needed him and nursed you through countless panic attacks. The least you could do was support him while visiting his father.

Even if said father was a lying, psychopathic, evil son of a bitch whom you hated with every fibre of your being and wanted nothing more than to destroy.

Shit, that whole ‘not blowing your top’ thing was gonna be hard.

“Uh,” you said softly, stopping a few steps away from the cell, “I think I’m just gonna… stay here.”

Aaron, noticing the slight blue glow of your veins, nodded in understanding. “I think that’s a good idea,” he supported, “Won’t be long, promise.”

You gave a small smile and a nod and watched him walk off before letting your face fall and taking a couple deep breaths to calm yourself down. Sticking your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket, you closed your eyes and started to think happy thoughts, blocking out everything else.

Naturally, blocking everything out resulted in you not paying any attention to what was being said by both Aaron and his father. That is, until you heard your name.

“(Y/N), dear, are you going to simply stand in the shadows the entire time or are you going to come say hi?”

The sound of his voice made you sick, and you had to fight the urge to throw up as you opened your eyes and looked over at him. He was smiling at you – a knowing smile, a taunting smile.

Summoning your legs to move and not fail you by giving in, you cautiously stepped forward.

“(Y/N),” Aaron spoke, reaching out for you, “You don’t have to-“

“No, boy, let her come,” Jacob encouraged, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly as he watched you come closer, “She has something to say to me.”

Oh, yes, you did. You had so many things you wanted to say to him. But you weren’t about to give him that satisfaction, so you remained silent.

Determined to get you to crack, he smiled evilly before opening his mouth again.

“I must say, it’s very strange to see you without your bodyguard by your side. Where is he? Recovering from a bullet wound? On a secret mission in Peru? Oh,” he chuckled, looking down at the ground and snapping his fingers before fixing his gaze on you and smirking, “that’s right. It’s neither of those, now is it? Ah, nevertheless – I heard he went out with quite a… bang.”

There was a loud cracking sound as a shard of ice flew from your hand with such force that it pierced the Perspex of the cell, the pointy tip coming to a halt a mere inch away from Jacob’s face; the Perspex had slowed down the shard’s momentum and stopped it seconds before it could puncture the doctor’s brain.

Your breathing was heavy and ragged, and you tore your gaze from the prisoner to look at his son, who was standing in shock, mouth agape.

“I’m sorry, Aaron,” you breathed shakily, backtracking and shaking your head, “but I have to go.”

_______________________________

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[faangirl101]

All you need, Prologue

Avengers x reader, Tony stark x reader

Summary: It was not meant to happen, but it did. There i was, on the steps of the stark tower, in the pouring rain. I dont know why Tony let me in, maybe it was the tears down my cheeks or maybe the wet clothes clinging on my body. Thats when i met the avengers, a bunch of train wrecks huddled up in seperated rooms with crippling deppresion and anixety. I think they saved me, but they think i saved them. Maybe they were to long gone for my fixing or maybe all it needed was new baked cookies and a movie marathon.

Warnings: Mention of almost abuse

                                                   MASTERLIST

                                                 {Prologue}

I pounded on the door, my heart racing like crazy. My breath was stuck in my throat, blocking all access of air. I was glad it was pouring heavenly behind me so the tears running down my cheeks were as good as invisible. I felt the urge to give up, to turn my heel and leave, but i stayed. I needed shelter, i needed somewhere safe. Just when i was about to start running in the rain a click made the door open slowly. The inside looked expensive, like the rest of the house. White and modern. The otherside of the heavy grey door was empty, leaving me in a state of confusion. Who opened the door? I had to get inside either way, i was freezing my ass out here. I slipped inside, letting the door hit my backside as it closed. I bent over, resting my hands on top of my knees. “Who are you”, i whipped my head up just to be met by silence. “I”, i opened my mouth, trying to push down the lump “my name is y/n”. It took a few moments until it clicked, it wasn't a real person but just robot. You know, like alexa or siri. i let out the breath, hugging the jacket closer to my shivering body. “Your body gives off extremely high stress levels and your heartbeat is dangerously high”, the voice almost sounded british in a way “you're in shock”. I nodded, not sure at where i was supposed to nod. That's when the door in the end of the corridore opened and a older man stepped out. I recognized him, but it was hard to put a name on the handsome face behind my blurry eyes.

A perfectly trimmed beard covered his chin and his dark hair was a mess on top of his head as if he just woke up from a nap. He was dressed in a loose pair of grey sweatshirts and a vintage iron maiden shirt.

“Hey, hey”, he had a calming voice as he moved closer to me. I backed away in instinct, my back hitting the door behind me. “Mr stark, her heartbeat is raising”, the robotic voice stated. The man kept eye contact with me as he answered the robot “yes, Jarvis, i understood that. Is she cold?”. Jarvis hummed, and you figured he was scanning your body. “Yes, i'm afraid she might catch a cold if she doesn't warm up immediately”. The man nodded for himself as he moved slower to me with careful legs as i he was nearing a  dangerous predator. “My name is Tony, are you alright?”, he asked, his chestnut eyes scanning your tears striped rosy cheeks. You dried your nose, trying to calm your shaking hands “I'm sorry to… just barge in”. He smiled sweetly “Its okay, you looked like you needed some help.”. I nodded, stepping closer even if my whole body was begging me not to. “I recognize you”, i looked down my wet sneakers “you're the smart rich guy, stark”. Tony chuckled and rubbed the backside of his neck “Yeah, the one and only”. I met his eyes, trying not to break down in tears at the soft look he was giving me. “Stark means strong in german”, i muttered and now i was just a arm length from him. His hand slowly made its way to my upper arm to give it a soft squeeze “well i'm not that strong”. I snorted in disbelief and he chuckled. “Come”, he gave me a soft smile “lets get you warm”.

I sipped on the apple cinnamon tea Tony had given me, enjoying how it  warmed the depths of my stomach. The blanket on my weak bruised shoulders didn't feel so heavy anymore but rather….. nice. I looked down at the clean and dry shirt Tony had given me, a shirt with the text “are you my appendix? because i have a gut feeling i should take you out”.

I chuckled for myself, taking another big gulp. I moved some of my wet hair behind my ears and looked up as i heard steps getting closer. I looked up expecting to see Tony return… but he wasn't alone. Behind him, quick in his steps were a group of people i knew i had seen before. On television, youtube, the newspaper and always as a relevant topic in all conversation.  The avengers.

“Are you alright?”, captain america, aka steve fucking rogers, asked me with a sweet careful tone. This guy was a legend, a national hero. I remembered getting taught about his great success for america in the second world war.He wasn't wearing his normal suit but some tight jeans and a black t-shirt. He had some beard growing along his chin iv never seen on pictures but it suited him. “Ay ay, captain”, i said quietly, scared my voice might crack. Steves whole face lit up like a christmas tree and i saw him try to hide the smug smile. “are ya ready kids”, i heard someone mumble quietly behind the crowd of people. I leaned to the side to see a boy around my age with wavy curls and an iron man shirt looking down his fluffy socks. He was adorable, and there was just something about him that made me want to wrap blankets around him and braid his hair. “Ay ay captain”, i repeated, too well familiar  with the meme, which in any case seemed to please the boy. He wasn't as good as steve to hide the smile.

Tony sat down next to me while the rest of the people stood almost awkwardly next to the couch. I recognized most of them. Black widow, Thor, Clint and bruce banner. He was a legend as well, they were all legend. And me? i was just another boring mortal. It was odd seeing them without their normal chose of clothes but just instead saturday night type of clothes.

“What happened?”, Tony laid an arm around the back rest of the couch, his fingers centimeters from my shoulder. I took a shuddered breath, trying to push down the sudden anxiety threatening in my chest. “Um”, i look down at the patterns of tea in the bottom of the mug “i was walking home and i got jumped. They had a gun and…… and they tried to take off my shirt so i just, just kicked them in the nuts and ran to the closer building”. The room feel quite, uncomfortable quiet. i was to scared to look up from my mug. of course they would think i was weak, here i was almost sobbing from a failed robbery while all of them have been through so much more traumatic shit daily. A hand on my shoulder made me flinch back to reality. I raised my head, ignoring how my entire body would rather just fall asleep. All of the faces that met my was dipped in true empati and some anger. Black widow was the first one to break the silence with a whistle “kick em in the nuts? attam girl”.

I couldn't help but to smile. Black widow was talking to me, i was freaking out. “I will kill these foolish men for daring to touch ms pretty human girl”, Thor raised his hammer in the air, some bolts shooting lightly from it similar to spark. Steve grasped around Thor's thick arm “No one is killing any one”. he then turned to me “Trust me, i know how it is getting jumped in alleys, but yours must have been more traumatic. You can crash on my bed”. I blushed, admiring his honest kindness. Tony snorted “i know you wanna be a gentleman and all that, captain spandex, but i'm literally a millionaire. I own like 15 guestrooms. You can crash for as long as you like y/n”. I smiled at him before looking down my pale hands “i don't wanna be in the way for the mightiest heros of earth”. i heard some snickers, and tried to hide the smile. “Please”, Bruce smiled nervously behind his glasses “we would need some normal company around here”.

And that's how i started living at the stark tower.

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[brittovenator]

Rewire

I’ve told this story over 100 times, but never like this. In an effort to regain who I am, I’m going to attempt to explain what actually happened to me, because I lost everything, in every sense of that word. The very being of who I believed I was, shattered. I tried to keep going like everything was going to be okay and that I was strong, but that was a lie and I lied to myself everyday for over a year. I became a shell of who I used to be. I didn’t know how to interact with other people when I used to crush it in the hospitality industry. I made mistakes because I never dealt with my trauma, and there is a guilt inside of me that causes literal pain.

This feeling of guilt, the lack of knowing who I am, destroyed so much around me. I had to get a restraining order from my ex who was coping with drugs. I almost lost my job, I became distant to every person I had ever come into contact with. I cut out everyone. My anxiety was so intense that I would scream and scream and scream at the top of my lungs to try and force it away. I was having panic attacks five times a day. I was only leaving my house to go to work, and then I couldn’t even do that anymore. I told my best friend that I was done.

I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. The pain in my chest crippled me. I lost around 20 pounds because food made me nauseous. I stopped playing music, I stopped singing, I stopped everything. I had this feeling that I was getting smaller and smaller in a room that would keep growing. I hoped that maybe if I stopped caring about everything that it would go away. I wanted to be left alone and I sat inside my house wearing the same clothes for two weeks before I was forced outside to get different help.

I cried mostly because I missed the girl that I used to be, and I worry that I will never be that person again. I feel like I have been completely un-wired, but the plugs don’t fit into the same sockets anymore. I used to consider this my biggest failure, but now I’m trying to see it as an upgrade, like when you buy a new phone and it comes with a new charging port.

I’ve repressed this memory for so long now, but in order to start feeling better I think that it’s probably time that I spoke out about it. Maybe I can reach someone whose been at their darkest point like I was, and that maybe this could help. I’ll never turn my back on anyone who is in my Route 91 family, especially if you need help just like I did.

I heard the first round of shots. If you were looking towards the stage, I was standing on that right side, the side closest to the Mandalay Bay. I looked over to my right and saw some sort of commotion and heard some loud popping noises, but I thought some kid had thrown down those 4th of July firecrackers and because Jason Aldean looked in that direction and kept singing I thought nothing of it. But then it happened again, I saw someone ripping Jason from the stage. Everyone is screaming, I was laying flat on my back on the ground as close to that center fence as I could, people were laying on me, I was laying on others. I grabbed this girls hand and we were holding each other, I remembered telling this complete stranger that we were going to be okay. Right before they cut the lights off the stage, I saw my friend Luke in his red, white, and blue vest hop the fence and pull his now wife Alyssa over with him when there was a lull in firing. My husband and I decided to follow. But we lost them when we ducked by the side of the stage while another burst rang out. When we finally ran again we ended up hiding underneath a big rigs wheels. We had no idea where the shots were coming from so we didn’t know where we were the most protected. I remember that he yelled at me for being too exposed but it was too chaotic to know where the best cover was. Someone opened the door to the truck open and we all climbed inside. I layed down again and sent out a tweet. Someone was smart enough to rip the loading dock off of the truck and put it up against the fence and that was how we were able to get out of the venue.

I started running, and realized that my husband didn’t over the fence right away. He had stayed to help others, which was admirable but unfair because he left me all alone. I finally heard him call for me, and we just ran and ran. We weren’t sure where to go and all the over passes towards the MGM were shut down, we couldn’t even get back to our hotel room. We were sitting on the walk over that leads into the MGM grand, and I called my mom. I told her “don’t turn on the news, but I’m okay, I love you.” She lives in NY so I knew she was half asleep, she asked my what happened, and I don’t remember if I told her, I just told her to go back to bed. I hung up and someone immediately shouted that there was another shooter and the screaming began again, we all started running into the MGM, the casino was completely empty and the emergency alarms were blaring, there were security guards guiding us through the casino floor towards a conference room, but we didn’t want to be caged in and instead of going with the others, we ran to the hard rock cafe, I remember that we got into the last cab because the radio controller came on and asked all cabs without passengers to return to the stations and stop taking passengers. I don’t know what we would have done if we hadn’t of gotten into that last cab. I don’t know what we would have done if we hadn’t of gotten a hold of Luke and Alyssa (who had ran to the airport). My phone battery was also at 5%, I was in a total panic for so many different reasons. In fact I hadn’t heard from Jenna or Allie since they left the concert (early thankfully, because Allie was in a wheelchair and Devyn wasn’t feeling well) So when I received a phone call from a number I didn’t recognize I just started asking if it was Allie and If they were okay, it turns out it was my boss, I’m sure that freaked her out.

When we finally got back to Alyssa’s place it was about four am. People assume that because he only was shooting for ten minutes, that it only lasted for ten minutes, or because they found him dead in his room an hour and twenty minutes later means that that’s when it ended. It took us almost six hours to get to safety, to finally be able to turn on the television and find out what just happened.

And the four of us just sat in disbelief, until we all forced ourselves to turn it off and go to sleep. I know none of us slept.

The next morning we headed back to our hotel. Everything was silent, no one was speaking. You could tell who hadn’t showered yet, there was dirt everywhere, even on the casino floors. I don’t even remember hearing slot machines running or anything, even if they were. We were supposed to check out that day but they extended us so that we could get our things and recoup. We had been able to get a hold of one person who knew a lot of our mutual friends, and he made a post on our behalf to let them know we were fine, but our phones were dead, so I hoped no one was worried about us more than they needed to be, but was really terrified to actually plug my phone in and turn it on.

Mandalay Bay has always been my favorite hotel in Vegas, we didn’t live a very luxurious life, but we hustled and always tried to make sure that we went to Vegas once a year since I turned 21. I love the sushi restaurant that is there, and I was really bummed to think that there was no way I would ever be able to go into there again, so instead of waiting to do it, we just did. I thought by doing that it would be a healing process and would help me deal with what just happened. I think in a sense it did, I still think I would be okay staying in that hotel.  

After we returned home, I had important decisions to make. I was leaving for California in five days, a commitment that I made and felt like I couldn’t back out on. Over the course of a week, I ran for my life, said goodbye to all the people that I met at that concert, came home and said goodbye to all the people I loved and cared about in Colorado, packed up only what was important to me, drove to Arizona to see my friends there, moved into my new apartment in California, and then spent the next month alone or obsessing over my job. I acted every day like I was fine.

Realistically I should have stayed in Colorado, I didn’t have a strong support group when I came out here, I didn’t know my place. Over a year later, and I still don’t. I struggle with that professionally and personally. I know a lot of people were watching me deteriorate, but I just didn’t care.

I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life moving forward, most days I feel like I should quit my job and move on because it would be better for everyone else if I just wasn’t around anymore. I don’t feel as I can turn to the only people I know here. I feel guilty and shameful and alone. It’s hard to suppress those feelings when what is real to everyone else is blurred for me. I feel like I’m going through the motions and not actually doing anything productive because I’m so afraid of screwing up. The worst part about feeling this way is that I truly love my job. I looked forward to coming in even when I was in Colorado. I felt supported and like I belonged with the company. I lost that when I lost myself.

I’m afraid of being a failure, which is ironic because I’ve been failing myself for living a lie since Vegas. All I can hope for is that my reality becomes normal again, instead of it blurring between a place where fear lurks in every direction, and one where I can join a beach volleyball league and not panic around strangers and get weird looks from those who don’t understand. A reality that everyone else understands. To live a normal life. Make friends on my own without relying on someone else. I feel crippled, but I don’t want to use crutches anymore.

[kenzieam]

Full Circle - Chapter Three (Bucky X Lev)

Rating: M (smut, language, violence, mature themes, potential major character death)

Genre: Drama/Angst

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This is the sequel to It’s Time, with Lev reaching the end of her pregnancy; but will ghosts from the past threaten their newfound and hard-fought happiness???

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In the aftermath of Lev’s accident, what happens? Can she and Bucky repair their relationship, are the twins okay......

does Lev even survive

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My life is over. My world has ended.  

I’m so fucking stupid.  

I fucking sat there and let that bitch talk. I should have thrown her out as soon as she showed her fucking face in my office, but I was so goddamn stunned. I’d heard she was back in town, but I never thought she’d have the nerve to find me and want to talk.

It was bullshit, I’m sorry Bucky, I’d like to apologize for what I did so many years ago, as if ‘sorry’ could possible cover destroying the best thing I’d ever had.  

And I can’t even blame her, I’m the one that let her stay in the office, let her speak. I didn’t grab her by the scruff of her neck and toss her out like the trash she is and, once again, Lev found us.  

If it wasn’t so fucking agonizing, it would be funny. Poor bastard, you’d laugh, watching your TV screen, if it wasn’t for bad luck, he’d have none at all.

I love Levi. With all my flawed goddamn being, and seeing the betrayal on her face when she walked into my office shattered my heart, but then soul-consuming panic flooding through me when she turned away from me and ran, drove off in an obvious state of distress. She was in no shape to drive, no shape to go anywhere, and I could hear her thoughts, they’d been broadcast clearly enough on her breathtaking face.

Not again!! I need to get away!

I will never forgive myself.        

I don’t give the bitch time to speak, she’s followed me out into the lot, watched as my entire life disappeared in a squeal of rubber. I turn and let her have the full brunt of my terrified rage.  

“Get the FUCK away from ME!” I roar, spittle flying from my lips and she has the decency to flinch.  

She opens her mouth but I don’t let her.

“SHUT UP!!!! Do you realize what happened? Jesus Christ! Do you understand?!”  

For the briefest second shame flashes in her eyes and I have to clamp down hard on the urge to slap her fucking face. I have never hit a woman before, but Jesus Christ, right now I want to. Fuck your shame.

“I should go.”

Understatement of the goddamn millennium. “Yeah.” I all but spit, fumbling for my phone, hoping against hope that Lev will answer, let me explain. Alicia Howard completely leaves my radar as I focus on my phone screen. Dimly I hear her car start.

“C'mon, baby.” I plead, my hands shaking. Christ, if I lose Lev again, after all this.......

The phone rings, and rings before going to voicemail.

“Dammit!”  I try again, directly to voicemail.

My fingers are trembling as I type a text. Baby, nothing happened. Please believe me, call me PLEASE!

I’m shaking too goddamn hard to drive myself, to try and find Lev. Tears are already starting to form in my eyes when I dial the familiar number.

“Yeah. Buck.” Steve sounds casual, not knowing I’m about to drop a load of shit on him.

“Goddammit Steve-” I rasp as the tears start to fall.

“Bucky? Jesus, what’s wrong? I’m just pulling into the site-”

I hear the rumble of his car and turn, finding it hard to breathe through my growing panic. One thought keeps racing through my mind, stuck on a loop. I can’t lose her, I can’t lose her, I can’t lose-

Steve grabs my shoulders, shakes me. “Bucky?! What the fuck? Was that Alicia I saw leaving? Tell me it wasn’t, man-”

He falls silent at my expression, disapproval and anxiety warring in his eyes.  

“Lev saw-”

“WHAT THE FUCK!!!” His outburst staggers me, almost kills my panic, almost. "You were talking to that bitch? Bucky! What the hell were you thinking?!”

What was I thinking?

“I was just about to tell her to leave!”

“That should have been the first fucking thing out of your mouth!”

“Christ, man. Lev saw us, she fucking saw and turned around and ran. I don’t know what she’s thinking, where she’s going-”

Steve shakes me, hard. “Get in the car.”

I stumble and almost fall, barely managing to fold my large frame into the car before Steve races out. Mia must have been sitting in here last, my knees are touching my chin.

“Goddammit Buck, goddammit.” Steve mutters, like a mantra, over and over. “What the fuck is it with you? Fucking Alicia?! AGAIN?!”

“NOTHING HAPPENED!”

“DOESN’T MATTER! Lev saw the two of you within arm's reach and that’s too fucking close! Dammit, when will you stop wasting all your fucking chances with her?! For someone that says they love her so much, you sure play around-”

“Don’t fucking finish that sentence.” All of the rage directed at myself flows into my words, and they hit Steve hard enough he flinches.  

My head’s on a swivel, looking everywhere for the familiar vehicle as Steve races back home. It’s the only place I can think she’d go, and only because she’s surely planning on leaving me, packing her bags and disappearing again, and I won’t delude myself into thinking I’ll survive this time.  

The driveway’s empty but I leap out anyway as Steve screeches to a halt, falling in my hurry to reach the door. My fingers fumble the keys but I manage to throw the door open and rush inside.

“Levi?!” My voice breaks from the strain as I shout, sprinting through the house looking even though I already know it’s empty. I’m half-hysterical by the time I make it back to the kitchen. Steve is pacing, his phone pressed to his ear. He hangs up.

“Clint hasn’t seen or heard from her, neither has Nat or Sam.”

I’m lost, panicking and not thinking clearly in the slightest. There is no telling what I would currently give up right now just to rewind the last few minutes; to stand and lock the office door when I first noticed the strange convertible pulling in.  

“Sit down,” Steve commands, pointing to a nearby kitchen chair. “Let me make a few more calls.”

“Did you try Lev?”

He nods once, brusquely. “Voicemail.”

Surely Lev would answer Steve’s number, wouldn’t she?  

My phone rings and I press it to my ear before I even look at the screen. “Lev?”

“What the fuck, man?” Clint sounds simultaneously incensed and devastated. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Clint... brother, I-”

“I’m not your goddamn brother, you better pray nothing happens to my sister or goddammit, I’m have your fucking head!” His rage sends a cold wave down my spine, but it’s nothing I don’t deserve. He hangs up before I can stutter anything more.  

I can’t tell you how much time passes, but it’s agonizing, my absolute ruin. I plead to every god and deity I can think of, beg them to please, please, please let Lev be safe, let her give me a chance to explain.  

Steve moves between the house and the deck, the phone permanently attached to his face.  

I try Lev’s number again and again, leave her increasingly panicked and pleading messages, text in between each call, barely able to legibly type the words.                                                                            

The house phone rings, sharp and abrupt, interrupting my newest, most frantic message. Steve looks sharply at me then reaches over and snags it.  

“Barton Residence. No, this is a friend. He’s here.” Wordlessly he holds the phone out to me, and the sudden sorrow in his eyes breaks me. Trembling, I take the phone from his hand and press it to my ear.

“Mr. Barnes, this is Dr. Barlow at the University Hospital-”

I can’t stand to hear anymore and a scream claws from my throat as I throw the phone across the room.  

*******************************************************************************************************

Oh god.

I feel like absolute shit.

I lay still for long minutes, waiting for my senses to clear, I feel like I’ve been sleeping a long time, been clawing to the surface for ages.

What the fuck happened...... oh wait, I remember.

Sudden anguish claws in my chest and it’s all I can do to draw my next breath. Memories hit me hard and fast, each one slashing like a razor.  

‘Alicia Howard’s back in town.’

Whose white convertible is that?

Oh my god.... not again. NOT AGAIN!!

A ragged sob breaks free and I can only let the pain take me, helpless on the crashing waves of sorrow. I hurt everywhere, and the horrible whooping sobs are only making me hurt worse, but I can’t stop them.  

Sudden, searing pain steals my breath, stops my sobs cold and my hands, shaking and weak, fumble and flounder but finally manage to rest on my abdomen. The pain is hot, vicious and stabbing and cold panic begins to take my sanity when I see that the swollen belly I’ve been gazing at for so long is suddenly, curiously, flat.

Where are my babies?

WHERE ARE MY BABIES??

A keening wail of animal anguish breaks free as I throw my head back. I’d always felt vaguely ashamed if I’d been around another person, or seen an actor in a movie cry out like this, but I understand now; the wordless pain, the crippling agony needs to be released somehow.

A nurse I don’t recognize rushes into the room, followed closely by Clint and Steve.  

“Clint!” I reach desperately for my brother with shaking arms and he surrounds me in his strength and warmth, a steady rock for me to break against and I feel another set of hands rest gently on me, Steve; one hand strokes gentle circles on my back while the other rests softly on my knee.

And they let me cry.  

The nurse leaves, knowing her medical knowledge is of no use right now.

After a long while I’m able to breathe again without wailing, able to focus on more than just pain and lift my head, surprised to see both Clint and Steve have been crying with me. My brother’s touch is gentle as he cups my cheek.

“Hey, brat.” His voice is tremulous.

“H-hey.... Hi Steve.”

Steve folds his massive form to sit on the other side of the bed, his skin is pale, face haggard. “Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?”

I remember my earlier disorientation, my feeling of being gone for a long time. “How long have I been out?”

Clint and Steve share a look that does nothing to assuage my anxiety. Finally, Clint clears his throat and answers.

“Just over two weeks. You’ve been in and out of consciousness, but never really awake.”

My breath is stolen again as I gape soundlessly at both men, watch as fresh tears form in their eyes. They both look terrible, what Hell have they been trapped in?

“My babies?” I’m terrified to ask, I’ve lost them, haven’t I?”

A faint smile graces Clint’s face. “They’re in the NICU. They’re small and they were too early, but they’re getting stronger every day.”

My hand flutters weakly over my deflated belly.

“Emergency c-section. You were going downhill fast, their heart-rates were dropping, we had to get them out.”

I nod absently, disappointment heavy in my heart. I was genuinely looking forward to delivering my children, being there when they slid into the world, hold them as they were placed, brand new and crying, on my chest and that was robbed from me. The words are bitter acid on my tongue.

“And him?"

Clint and Steve glance at each other. “In the NICU with the babies, we won’t let him in to see you, although God, he’s tried. I’ve tried to get him banned from the NICU as well, but I can’t because he’s the twin’s father.”

Weak rage burns in my heart. He’s the cause of all this and he’s had over two weeks alone with my babies, time that have been stolen from me.  

“Did you want to see him?” Clint asks uncertainly, his tone indicating he’d rather I said no.

“No.” I all but spit. “But I want to see my babies.”

Clint nods slowly, then exhales and stands, resting a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”  

Steve watches him leave then turns back to me, smiling wetly. “I’m glad you’re back, baby doll.”

“I’m sorry, Steve-”

“Hey,” he reaches up and gently cups my cheek. “Don’t. If anyone’s to blame right now, it’s Bucky.”

I don’t want to ask, but it comes out anyway. “How has he been?”

Steve exhales, thumb gently stroking my cheekbone. “Honestly?”

I nod.

Steve drops his hand into his lap. “He’s.... he’s broken, Lev.  After you left, when we didn’t know where you were, I.... I didn’t even recognize him. I’ve never seen him so... out of control, not even before, the first time. And then, Jesus, when the hospital called....” He trails off. “Then the doctor is saying we’re losing you, and we’ve got to get the babies out and there was just terror and confusion.... when the nurse came out and said you’d pulled through, Bucky just... he collapsed to his knees and started crying, harder than I’ve ever seen.... I mean.... he broke. He’s been with the twins every second he can, and here, trying to see you when he’s not. I’ve caught him a few times looking in through the door, but Clint is keeping a pretty close eye on you. They’ve had a few knock-down, drag-outs over it-”

“What?!”

“It’s come to blows a few times, Sam and I managed to separate them before they did too much damage to each other. Bucky is adamant that nothing happened, and honestly, the way he’s taking all this, I kind of believe him. But Clint’s in full-on brother mode, as he has every right to be, and it hasn’t been pretty.” He pauses and studies my stunned face. “I’m not trying to sway you either way, you wanted my honest opinion and that’s it.”

I’m so tired, so weary and worn out. “Why do I always assume the worst, Steve? I mean, if we’re so fated for each other, destined and soul mates and all that, then why am I always so quick to think he’s betrayed me? Why can’t I just.... trust?”

Multiple emotions flash over Steve’s face, pain and sorrow, anger and frustration. “Because your mother was a bitch to you. Honestly, I loved the woman, and she was always good to me, but.... the way she treated you... I mean, if your own mother couldn’t be there for you, why would you trust anyone else to be? Especially someone you care for as much as Bucky?”

“I trust you. I trust Clint-”

“We don’t own your heart, Bean. Of course, Bucky is going to affect you more strongly than anyone else, you’re a part of each other.” He smiles wanly then reaches over and gently rests his hand on mine. “I can’t tell you what to do and I'm not going to, but-”  

He’s cut off then by a commotion out in the hallway. Raised voices and scuffling, growing to hoarse shouts and I recognize both speakers.

“I want to see her!” Bucky shouts.

“No! Fuck you!” Comes Clint furious reply. More scuffling, as if Bucky is physically trying to get past Clint and is being held back. Steve shoots me a cautious look and stands, hurrying from the room. His voice joins the fray, calmer than theirs, but his answer only makes Bucky louder.

“No! Steve, please! I need to see her. Lev?!” I catch sight of his face over Steve’s shoulder and I’m shocked at how pale and haggard he looks. His eyes plead with me. “Lev!”

I’m not ready to talk to him, I can’t stand to see the pain on his face. He moans in distress when I turn my face away.

“Lev! Baby, please!”

“Come ON,” Clint all but snarls, pulling hard on Bucky’s arm. There’s a heavy thud, a grunt of pain and that’s when my tears start.

******************************************************************************************************

I must have dropped off again, for the next thing I know, it’s blessedly silent. I’m alone again, but my head is clearer, but then the earlier ugliness hits me again.  

Two weeks? My babies are in the NICU, small and early but getting stronger, Bucky has been with them constantly, and despite my earlier venom, I can only summon a sense of relief, at least one of us has been there.

A surreal feeling washes over me; the last thing I remember is stopping by Nat and Clint’s, happy and eager to soon meet the little people I’ve been growing inside me, then the hated words are spoken 'Alicia Howard' and it all goes to shit. What is it with her? Nat’s right, I won. I have, had, Bucky and was truly happy; and all it took was the mention of her name to turn me into a hysterical mess.

Jesus, issues much?

A nurse bustles in and busies herself with checking the IV bags hanging beside the bed.

“Hello, dear.” She even has the warm, stereotypical English accent. “I’m Mary, how are you feeling?”

“Confused,” I admit.

She nods, setting herself gently on the edge of the bed. “You’ve had quite a lot happen in a short amount of time.”

“Where is everybody, I mean, my brother-”

“They were all escorted from the property earlier.”

“What?”

“They continued to fight and scuffle and security needed to be called. They have all been given a twenty-four suspension, but your brother left you a note.” She reaches over and pulls back a slip of paper I hadn’t noticed yet.

Lev

Sorry sis, but we got thrown out. They let me write this note, then we’re not allowed back until tomorrow.  

I’m sorry. I don’t want him anywhere near you or the babies, but if you want to see him, it’s your choice and I’ll support you.  

The kids have all come down with the flu at once or else Nat and Wanda would be there, but call me or Steve if you need anything, and I’ll figure out how to get it to you.  

Love you, Clint

I sniff, I don’t deserve such a brother, he always takes care of me.  

“Do you remember the accident?” Mary asks gently.

I pause, wracking my brain but only bits and pieces float up. “I uh.... I was hit by a semi; I was upset and not paying attention to the road.”

Mary nods sympathetically and takes over where I trail off. “You were broadsided, hit on the passenger side or else, my dear, I don’t think you would still be with us. You’ve fractured a few bones and are quite bruised, but there was serious concern of brain damage for a time and, by the time the first responders cut you out of the vehicle you were in a bad way, and the decision had to be made for an emergency C-section to save your twins, and you. You’ve been floating in what we term ‘altered consciousness’ ever since. Never truly aware, sometimes responsive, mostly not.”

“My babies?”

“I’m not a NICU nurse, so I don’t see them regularly, but from what I hear they are thriving. Your husband is there constantly and is always holding them skin to skin, the best way for preemies.”  

“Skin to skin?”

“He sits in the rocking chair beside their incubators without a shirt and the twins are placed on his chest in nothing but their diapers. He holds and rocks them for hours at a time. Skin to skin is a large part of our care here, whenever possible we encourage it. It’s truly miraculous how the babies respond, their temperature regulation is better, they feed better, sleep better. Your twins are thriving because of your husband’s attention.” She pauses and eyes me quietly, I know the question is coming. “You are currently separated?”

I shake my head, suddenly weary of the whole thing. “Long story, I hope it’s all a big misunderstanding but....” I trail off helplessly, not sure what I’m going to do if it isn’t all a mistake, if I have been fooled twice.... I can’t think of that right now, I can’t go down that road again, I need facts, not assumptions. “I-”

“Excuse me?” A quiet, hesitant voice at the door interrupts and I freeze in dawning horror, eyes locking on the speaker.  

No, no.... NO.

Mary stands and addresses the visitor. “May I help you?” She’s noticed my unease and is cautiously polite.

The speaker looks past her directly to me. “Levka, could I talk to you.... please?” Alicia Howard asks, her voice strangely humble.

I swallow hard. Every instinct is screaming NO but there’s something different about my nemesis. She’s twisting her hands nervously, eyeing me apprehensively, no trace of her usual arrogance or confidence. I catch sight of bags under her eyes, she’s tried to hide them with concealer, but the unforgiving fluorescents above us reveal all.                                                            

What could this woman possible have to say to me?

“Alright.” My voice is quiet.

Mary nods and steps aside, holding out an arm to the chair. Alicia nods in thanks and carefully sits, resting her purse on her lap, fingers clenched.  

“I’ll be just out by the desk,” Mary says. “Call if you need me.”

Alicia turns her head, watching Mary leave before slowing turning back to me. She takes a deep breath. “Levka, I..... I’m here to say that I’m sorry... for everything.”

I’m floored, absolutely speechless. I don’t think we have ever spoken to each other without screaming, hurling insults like hand grenades.  

“S-sorry?”

She smiles faintly, sadly. “I understand if you are confused, I’ve never been... repentant before.” She pulls a tissue from her purse and begins to torture it in her twisting hands. After a beat she takes a deep breath and raises her head. “Tommy has left me. He’s become enamored by a young woman he works with.”

You could knock me over with a feather and I can just open and close my mouth soundlessly, like a fish.

“Karma, I suppose.” Alicia gives a faint laugh, meant to be flippant, but heart-breaking instead. “It made me think about what I’ve done in the past, who I’ve hurt, who I’ve stomped on.” She looks up at me, tears in her eyes. “I’m truly sorry, Levka. Bucky was just a game to me, I was always jealous of you-”

“Me?”

She laughs mirthlessly, sitting up straighter. “C’mon, Levka. Everyone was. You were always so strong, so confident. You knew what you wanted and you did it. Not to mention you were surrounded by man candy that you were either related to or had hanging off your every word.”

Just when I think I can’t be any more shocked, she drops this. I never in all my years even entertained the notion that Alicia Howard could possibly be jealous of me.  

She clears her throat and continues, shame making her blush. “I knew you two were fighting and wanted to hurt you, show you I could have your man too. I waited until Bucky was drunk at Derek’s party then made my move. He was so.... sad and heartbroken over you it was easy, he was desperate for something other than sadness. He fought it, but I laid it on thick and poured more alcohol down his throat...... anyway, you know what happened next. And for a while, I was happy. I’d hurt you, badly. I knew it wasn’t Bucky’s baby but...” she breaks off with a sorrowful sniff. After a moment she raises her head and I’m shocked by the naked sorrow on her face, despite her efforts to conceal it. “What I did was horrible, and now it’s come due; I’ve had my man taken in return for stealing yours. That’s the reason I’ve been back home.... to help my parents move down to Florida to help me with the kids, my youngest just turned six months old, and I wanted to say I was sorry in person. I shouldn’t have gone to apologize to Bucky first, I realize that was a mistake; but I was a coward, I knew Bucky would be less likely to murder me on sight.” She twists a plain band on her finger and falls silent, waiting for my response.  

“So... you, at the worksite...?”

She shakes her head emphatically. “No, nothing happened. I didn’t want to show Bucky how devastated I was, so I sat on the edge of his desk and tried to be casual, but it failed. You walked in and....” She looks up. “He loves you, more than I think you’ll ever know. That’s why it was so satisfying to steal him that night... Bucky would never purposely hurt you Levka, I only wish I’d had the same luck with men. I don’t deserve your forgiveness for all that I’ve done to you, but I hope you’ll accept my apology.”  

I’m.... flabbergasted, struck dumb. I would have been more likely to buy the scenario of Alicia showing up here to smother me with my pillow than apologize and I honestly don’t know how to respond. Despite her speaking to my strengths, it has just taken a tremendous amount of courage to do what she's just done and I feel.... sympathy for her pain. The words come out before I can think about them, but they feel right all the same.  

“Thank you, Alicia. I do.... I mean, I forgive you.”

She jolts viscerally, looking up at me with wide, tearful eyes. “Really?” She wretchedly hopeful, and I see in this moment I have the power to break her.  

I don’t. I need to let all of this go.

“Yes.”

She chokes a sob and drops her head and my cheeks go red. How surreal is this? My high school nemesis, bawling her eyes out over my hospital bed. I’m awkward as hell, not sure what to do. Do I touch her, pat her head? Call for Mary? I’m saved by Alicia herself. She sits back up, struggling for control, her own cheeks red with a mix of embarrassment and emotion. After a moment she stands, collecting herself, straightening her blouse.  

“Thank you Levka,” she murmurs. “You’ve been far more gracious than I deserve.”

I nod. “Thank you, Alicia.... for explaining everything.”

She nods once, and swallows. “Goodbye.” She’s eager to leave and frankly, I’m eager to see her go; this has been crazy and I need time to process it all. When I look up again she’s gone and Mary stands in the doorway, smiling gently at me.

“Would you like to have a shower, dear? Clean up a bit?”  

“God, yes.”    

[fandomoniumflurry]

Keep Calm and Carry On Part 6

Chestervelle

@lukecastellamz @elsatxx @becs-bunker

2.8k Swearing and arguing

This is not the end though! There is still more to come!!

“I didn’t ask you to come!” She yelled, her blonde hair brushing across her face as she whipped around to face him.

He looked down at her with wrinkled brow with a grimace of his own. The crinkles at the corner of his eyes would have been cute if his gaze wasn’t heated and his jaw firmly set. Her defiance was pushing his buttons and bringing out what she had earlier called ‘Daddy Winchester’ mode. “You. You drove off and left me and your motel without even telling me!”

“Because I don’t need you to take care of me!” This yelling match had been going on for a while now. After interrupting too many times, Jo’s hunter friend, Pierce, gave up trying to get between them.

“How do you even know that guy?” A hand gestured back toward the other room where Pierce sat. Dean was sure that the dark headed man could hear him as he spoke. “You should know that not all hunters can be trusted.” Great offense took over Jo’s face. “That’s my friend, you asshole! I’ve worked more cases with him than I ever have with you.” She took a bold step forward and poked a finger into his chest. “He’s a damn good hunter and he’s saved my life a couple times. So you watch how you talk about him.”

Dean’s eyes widened slightly as he scanned her orbs for a moment. A realization struck him, leaving him reeling for a second. Taking a step back from her, he seem flabbergasted. “You’ve slept with him!” The laugh that passed his lips was ill humored and a hand washed down his face. Her features went cold, her body going rigid as her arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t have to say anything for that was all the answer he needed. When a tight pained smile pulled at his lips, she almost felt guilty. “You seriously fucked him?”

“And what does it matter to you who I fuck? I was on my own for months, I’m allowed to let loose from time to time!” Her arms stretched out on either side of her as she practically screamed. The fact that he had the nerve to bitch about her when he got tail whenever he wanted got on her last nerve. Her face was contorted in anger as she carried on even when Dean wanted to say something else. “Pierce is a good guy, a good friend, Dean. He was around when I needed someone. He took me in and took care of me for a while.” “You had me!” Dean suddenly retorted before she could continue. “You had Sam. Hell, you even had Cas. You have a family that wanted to be there for you. You’re the one that ran away!”

“I didn’t run away! Things were different.” Her breath came in pants now, this argument and the emotions it brought up were exhausting. “You were different. Too much changed. We’re not those two crazy kids we used to be before the apocalypse.” There was a heavy weight in Jo’s eyes as she took herself back a step, more distance between them. “I looked into your eyes that first day and I saw someone I didn’t recognize. You’ve been through a lot, Dean, I get it. But the way you looked. There was a darkness in you that scared me. Then when you guys told me the whole story, it made me wonder what i was getting myself into.

She could see that her words cut deep as Dean’s body seemed to be frozen like ice against the floor. A sadness was heavy in his eyes and he could hear his heart beating in his ears. There was a thin layer of glistening moisture in his emerald orbs and Jo took in a sharp breath. “So you left. Because I changed.” The smile at the corner of his mouth was more of a snarl. “That’s what happens, Jo! Time passes. We grow the fuck up!”

“I didn’t get to grow u!” She finally exclaimed with her loudest voice. Dean jolted at the sound and his whole demeanor changed. “I was dead, Dean. For years! I didn’t get to…” Her head hung as the sentence drifted off. She struggled to rain in her emotions before she continued. “I didn’t get to carry on. To be by your side, to watch you, be there for you. I didn’t grow up. I didn’t grow with you.”

A sharp pang of guilt caused a tremor down Dean’s spine. His slack jaw nearly hit the floor at her admission and he had no words. A part of him wanted to run to her, hold her but she wasn’t finished and he was sure at the moment he was the last thing she wanted.

“I don’t blame you. I really don’t. But my time in--” Her eyes lifted in a panic, stopping her sentence, already realizing she had said too much.

Dean’s heart instantly stopped, his eyes locking with hers. She begged frantically with her eyes alone for him to drop it. Tears nearly leaked from her chocolate hues as her hands lifted toward him. “You were in heaven...weren’t you?” The ache in Dean’s chest was nearly crippling, his lungs refusing to take in air.

“I wasn’t going to say anything. Dean, I’m ok with it. I just need adjust, just need--”

His eyes were fierce but pained as he cut her off. “What was it like?” His jaw clenched with his fear of her answer.

She was reluctant to respond, her eyes averting as she fiddled with the hem of her shirt. He took a step forward and rested a hand over one of hers catching her eye. When she lifted her gaze, she was shocked at how he had gotten so close so quickly. She swallowed thickly before dropping her eyes to their hands. “As you know, you relive life’s greatest hits. But not just that…” She barely glanced up at him through her lashes, almost ashamed she was about to share this information. “You get to live out your fantasies as well.” Dean held his breath with anxiety as she continued after a defeated sigh. “You were my heaven, Dean.”

At that moment, the hunter’s heart plummeted. He never would have imagined. Her paradise was with him. Her memories were of the times she had with the younger version of him. She got to live out the happy perfect life with someone Dean didn’t even know anymore. He could only imagine how she had pictured him, what he was like in her after death dreams. But he knew he wasn’t like that. She remembered him in better days. The dark broken man he was now was a stranger to her. No wonder she left. He could never live up to that.

“I have to go.” His eyes were distant as he retracted his hand as if her touched burned. Her tiny digits chased him as he stepped away and she was speaking but he couldn’t make out the words through the ringing in his ears. He could feel her clinging to his arm, trying to pull him back to her but she was a blur. He needed to get out of her. He ripped himself from her hold and quickly stomped out the door.

Once out in the fresh air, he could finally breathe again. His hands combed through his hair and his fingers clung to the short strands as his eyes closed. His steps had stopped halfway down the drive and he hung his head back to take a few deep breaths. For a moment, he let calm take him over. But it didn’t last long before he heard the door swing open behind him. An exasperated sigh passed his lips as he dropped his hands to his sides. Emerald orbs opened to gaze at the stars above before his head fell again to turn himself to the person stomping toward him. She was moving at a fast pace, moving with purpose through the gravel. It was almost terrifying.

What he hadn’t expected when she got to him was her grabbing him by the collar and jerking him down to her level. “Now you listen here, Dean Winchester. You don’t get to run away from this.” He conceded with a nod and wide eyes before his hands lifted to wrap around her tiny wrists.

When he had Sam track her phone, he had expected a motel or some dive bar, not an actual house in the suburbs. When she had said a hunter friend, he didn’t expect the tall attractive man that opened the front door. He was nice enough, greeting him with a smile and gladly getting Jo for him. Jo wasn’t as glad to accept his visit.

The arguing started almost immediately and it didn’t take long for them to get into an all out yelling match. Poor Pierce was beyond uncomfortable, excusing himself to the other room after getting yelled at himself a few times. He figured it was best to let them hash it out on their own. He wasn’t a fan of being a topic of discussion, but he didn’t move, just turned the television up more. He just rose to his feet when Dean stormed out and Jo was right behind him. He blinked a few times and made move to follow but Jo quickly shot that idea down. So with a sigh, he gave up and headed upstairs.

Now that Jo had Dean’s undivided attention, she found that instead of having some mind blowing speech rollin goff her tongue, she was breathless having his face so close to hers. The racing of her heart had to have been audible to the whole neighborhood. The pressure of his fingers around her wrists was doing very little to ground her either. He watched her patiently, searching her brown hues for the words she couldn’t say. Which didn’t help her clear her mind at all. She could get lost in those emerald pools, drown in them before she could even put up a fight.

Her eyes closed briefly to allow her to take a deep breath before she finally attempted to speak. There was a stronger resolve in her gaze when she opened her eyes to look at him once again. “You can understand now why I reacted the way I did when I came back. I was ripped out of my heaven and thrown back into this...hell. Without warning. When everything was so different. You were different. It was all just scary and overwhelming. I couldn’t look at you without an ache in my heart. I heard your voice and it felt like a knife in my chest. So I left, yes. But I couldn’t go far from you.”

Her hands moved to cup his face as her features softened. “Then you showed up at the motel. Totally unexpected. At first, it still hurt to be around you but then you let your walls down and I got to see the Dean I used to know. Today was the best day I’ve ever had because you were so happy, so light and I thought maybe…” She wasn’t sure how to continue her thought so she let it drift off.

After a pause, she started again. “But you let me go. No argument. Just told me to take care and drive away. And I was hurt, once again losing that feeling of heaven.” A sweet smile spread after that. “Then you showed up here. In all your angry macho glory, chest all puffed out and everything. And you were all jealous of Pierce.” She chuckled and his lips parted to speak. She silenced him with a finger against his full lips with a grin. She simply shook her head because she knew he had no argument. “I never slept with him.”

Dean’s brows wrinkled in confusion. “But you said--”

“His wife, Diana is a bartender at the saloon around here. She was the one that took me in. She and Pierce have been good to me.” A frown curled her lips now. “She’s sick and so Pierce has been home alone while she’s in the hospital. He’s been going back and forth and he’s wearing himself thing. So he just needed someone to help out. Since I was close, I had to come.” Her thumb rubbed gently against his stubble. “I was going to ask you to come with me. If it makes you feel any better.”

“Now I feel like an idiot.” His words made her laugh, a sound that brought his smile back. He couldn’t maintain the smile for long though once his thoughts took over again. His face turned down into a troubled frown.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know. Trust me, I’ve been there.” Jo commented as her thumbs still moved soothingly over his jaw. “Just don’t pass out on me. I can’t catch you like you could me.” They both laughed softly and Dean noticed his arms had slid around her waist. He wasn’t sure when that had happened but it just felt natural.

“Why did you tell me you slept with him?” Dean finally asked, her hands moving from his face to wrap her arms around his neck.

“I didn’t tell you anything. You assumed. I just didn’t set you straight.” She gave him a crooked grin before Dean rolled his eyes, a smirk of his own growing at the corner of his mouth. “I haven’t been with anyone since I got back.” Her admission was quiet and timid, her eyes watching as her fingers played with his collar.

The smug grin growing on Dean’s face couldn’t be helped and Jo noticed it right away. Her eyes rolled as a smile came across her face, slapping him lightly against the back of the head. He softened then, a hand lifting to run through her hair before tucking it behind her ear. “Neither have I.” This shocked the blonde and Dean laughed at her stunned expression. “Is that so hard to believe?” His smile dropped for a second. “Don’t answer that.” Causing her to giggle again.

“I should probably get back inside.” Her voice was a breathy whisper against his lips. When he had drawn his face so close, she couldn’t tell but she felt him suck the air from her lungs. His arms had tightened around her and brought her impossibly tight against him, her body molding perfectly against his as if they were made for each other. Though her words said she should walk away, her lips had other ideas. Her face leaned in slowly as she still tried to fight against his magnetic pull. His smug grin hadn’t left and she could feel it the moment he closed the gap and slanted his lips against hers.

They had shared a couple kisses in their lifetime but nothing could compare to this one. It washed away fears and doubts, it expressed everything they couldn’t put into words. It healed wounds and soothed aches. It was overwhelming and intense and yet calming and passionate. It wasn’t rushed or hard, just two mouths learning each other, moving in sync. Hums and moans vibrated against their mouths and Jo’s arms tightened around his neck when he felt her lifting her feet from the ground. She giggled against his lips as she kicked her legs backwards as he leaned back a bit. The kiss broke when they were both breathless and laughing.

Feet finally back on the ground, she ran her fingers through his hair and smiled lovingly up at him. “Go home. Get some rest. I’ll be back in a couple days.” Her hands slid down his face and she gave him a quick peck on the lips to silence his disputes. “I’ll apologize to Pierce for ya.” She backed away, his hands holding hers as she moved toward the house. “Don’t give me that look. Go before I get my shotgun.”

He laughed with a shake of his head but as much as he didn’t want to go, he knew she needed time with her friends. At least she was coming home. With a quick jerk, he pulled her back against him to plant a deep kiss against her mouth which she immediately melted into with a content hum. “What is that flavor by the way?” He asked when he pulled away again, licking his lips.

The smug grin had transferred to her face as she let go of him and turned around. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she winked. “It’s cherry pie lip balm.” The hunter practically swooned and she giggled at his dramatic gesture. “Bye, Princess. I’ll call you later, ok?” She made a show of walking away, putting some extra pep in her step and sway in her hips.

He watched with a face splitting smile until she waved and disappeared back into the house. Letting out a pleasant sigh, he threw his keys up in the air, and then caught them as he turned toward the Impala. He had never been happier.

[katestinyliving]

I have been so behind on creating this post. This past week has been so hard for me for multiple reasons. None of which I’m specifically comfortable going on a public level about so for the sake of privacy and sanity, I’m keeping it private. I’ve had a lot of highs and a lot of lows. A lot of “talk downs” from Tristan, my parents, and Asa.  It’s so dangerously close to Christmas, and I’ve been overwhelmed by to-do lists, anxiety, and fear.

Needless to say, crying is my new thing. Waterproof mascara is my beauty essential. I don’t think there’s a foundation in the world created to withstand the floodgate that is attached to my face, so I don’t even try. 

I’ve been afraid of not getting my to-do list done by a deadline. Which is a big one for me. I am a planner. I like lists. I like checking things off and moving forward. But to be honest and 100% transparent I’ve had fear of not making enough money to be able to afford finishing the house or being able to afford a wedding… Etc. And by wedding, I’m not meaning some elaborate thing. I want simple. I want stress free. Anything flashy, showy, or that REMOTELY sounds like it could cause me any stress or drama is out. I don’t want it. And all of that goes for my house too. I just want zero drama.

And in reality I know the money is there. I know it will come. I’ve been diligent, praying, and asking for God to send me work and to help me recognize the opportunities He brings my way and to have wisdom with those opportunities. And He does. I know God provides because He has been providing for me every step of the way. I could tell you THOUSANDS of wild stories where God’s provided for me. But all of that is easier said than believed when you’re going through the thick of it and you’re hearing all these voices of discouragement in your head saying, “It ain’t gonna happen. How’s this gonna happen? You’re gonna finish your house, and get married within 5 months? HA!”

Isn’t it wild how God can do amazing things for us, and then when stress hits again, in that moment we sometimes totally forget how amazing and capable He is? Or is it just me? Cause I lose my mind and turn into an blubbering idiot, almost every time it feels like.

This does not mean I am labeled a doubter. This does not mean I don’t trust Him. This does mean I am human. This does mean I have struggles. This does mean I am learning and growing. And this does mean I am a child of the King.

Even Jesus himself in the garden of Gethsemane struggled! God himself in the form of man wept and had so much agony from stress, he sweat BLOOD. Jesus Christ experienced hematidrosis while praying in the garden of Gethsemane before his crucification. That is insane.

“And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.” Luke 22:44

So I think if anyone understands my humanity, the battle of overcoming it, and needing help from the Father, it would be Jesus.

When you walk through the fire with Him… stuff gets real. FAST. And any honest, true believer, devoted, loving Christian worth their salt will tell you that it’s not all peaches and cream walking with Jesus. There’s a whole lot of humility, fear, and worry with learning to trust God. Even when He’s done miraculous things in the past, and you KNOW He will be right there with you through the fire again… It’s hard. And because it’s hard, doesn’t make you any more or less of a Christian. It just means where your at is hard. It’s growing pains. The process is hard. The journey is hard and it’s harder when you don’t include Jesus in your journey, or when you forget that He wants to be included in your journey. So we have to constantly invite Him into our situations and say, “Okay God. I’m here. Here is this thing. Help me to surrender. Help me to learn and to trust You during this time. It sucks and I hate it, but here’s where I’m at with it. Help me.”  

But anyways, I’m getting off topic. I never started this post with the intention of getting that deep into my personal walk with Christ or being that transparent about it.

Maybe I will make a blog post going in-depth about it and about all the drama I have going on in my head, but I really want to get to the details of Construction Saturday.

Anywayssss… 

This post is about last week’s Construction Saturday. Last Saturday I woke up to Daddy revving a chainsaw outside of my window getting ready to cut a tree down. This tree has been looking crazy dangerous and shady now for years, and we were all starting to get paranoid it was going to fall on someone’s vehicle(especially Asa’s), so the day finally came for it to come down.

Asa couldn’t be there that morning because he’s been having to work Saturdays lately. Which is sad, because I miss him terribly and it’s something I’ve been trying hard to gracefully adjust to. Plus it’s difficult because he’s genuinely a God-send when it comes to construction. I’m insanely proud of him. His long arms, strength, persistence, level-head, and height seriously helps SO much on construction days. And he has a calming presence for me, and I need that because I’m everything but calm. Plus he’s really good at following instructions, which is a trait I feel like is in short supply these days.

But instead of going all out on the house first thing that morning, Tony, Mama, and I decided to help Daddy clear the driveway. Which I enjoyed a lot. It was fun working as a team doing something different. And then afterwards, to my surprise, Daddy stayed that Saturday and helped us build the house. He’s usually doing ministry work or running his business, so it’s a lucky day when he can help me work on my house. Which was a God-send because he’s incredible at building things and the more fellas around with the muscle and the know-how, the better.

One thing that I think I really underestimated when I said I wanted to build my house was my own muscle strength.

I am not very strong in the arms. I’m not exactly weak, but it is not as easy for me to lift things like I thought it would be. If this house teaches me anything at all, I think it’s that: I need help. A lot of help. I CAN NOT do this by myself.

And that’s okay. That’s where the true blessing comes in. That’s where true love comes in.

I’m thankful for my crew and for everyone that has helped me with this house. We’re not out of the woods with it yet, but we are getting closer every time we work together. And everyday, despite whatever crippling emotion I’m having at the time from all the stress, I know God’s in it. I know He’s teaching me. I know it’s gonna work out. It might not be my timing, but it will be His and that’s all that matters.

Be sure to hover over my photos or click on them. I’m gonna add some captions so you know what is going on. And if you’re curious about my photography at all you can follow me here, and here, and look here at my website.

I hope everyone is having a wonderful season of Christmas despite whatever stressful circumstances you may be facing right now. Jesus loves you. I love you. We care about you and I am praying for you. Whomever you are reading this, you matter to me and I am praying for you.

Merry Christmas.

-Katie

  This is right after the tree was cut down. Tony is inspecting it, while Daddy is cutting it up into movable pieces.

Tony always brings some kind of dessert to every event. He’s gonna make me fat, and I’m trying to get married. This is not the ideal situation, but it is a tasty one.

Close up of Daddy.

Cool angles. Yaknow. All about them angles.

This is Tony and Daddy making the best of the scrap pieces I had left over for the siding. Our goal was to trim out the windows and put siding on the windows.

I think you know what’s happening here.

Another angle of Daddy and Tony.

Man and his chainsaw. He cut up at least two other big old bushes that day. Daddy says it a dangerous time when a man buys a new chainsaw. Everything gets cut. This chainsaw isn’t new though, but I think the point is still there.

Biscuits Mama made for us! She keeps me going strong and happy. I love her so so so much!

Chalk line to keep things square!

Mama with a fancy dewalt finishing nailer. Us Weeks girls know about our tools and how to use them. I’m thankful for a Mama that has never let fear hold her back, as far as I know. Which has helped me and Tristan tremendously in having that “I can do anything I put my mind to” attitude. And forget about the whole gender thing. My whole life I knew I was just as good as a guy, thanks to my parents. When your born with no brothers, chores have no gender role. It’s “Girls! Do this. Do that!” Haha!

Daddy seeing if this piece of scrap will be long enough to cover the window.

Tony and Mama figuring out the measurements for the first window.

First window trim, done!

Holding the tape for Daddy.

Tony measuring to see the length of the glass I need to order for my stained glass Moon Phase window that Reflecting Light Stained Glass Studios will be making for me. I love custom pieces! https://www.reflectinglightstainedglass.com

Second window trimmed and finished!

Miter saws make life 100% more efficient and easier.

Third window finished! This is also my favorite window.

Mama working on taking apart the temporary table we made for the miter saw.

Wider angle, so you can see more of the house.

p.s. Please know that if someone else had the camera this day you would have seen me telling Tony to get off the ladder many times. Haha! I love him. He’s a crazy hard worker! I’m proud of my friend and could not have dreamed of a better person to learn from. Tony is a God-send. 100%!

12.16.17 | Tiny House Construction Saturday I have been so behind on creating this post. This past week has been so hard for me for multiple reasons.

[boyf-canons]

☆I’m The Light Blinking At The End Of The Road☆ [Evan x Reader - Soulmate AU]

[I told myself I wouldn’t let 75% of the posts on this blog be about Evan but I’m w e a k ~Mod V]

TW: none, except a little light swearing and a little of Evan’s anxiety.

Everyone knows about the words. The ones that show up on your body as a child—inky black and scrawled in unfamiliar handwriting, impossible to scrub off. It’s common knowledge that the words will be the first ones your soulmate ever says to you.

However, not everyone acknowledges them. Some people go their entire lives without being entirely sure whether or not the person they love is their soulmate, with only simple “Hi”s and “Hello”s on their bodies. Some couples tattoo their own words, foregoing the system. Who’s the universe to say who you’re destined to be with? The universe doesn’t give a shit about any other aspect of your everyday life; why should it care about your “soulmate”?

That was a lot of people believed, anyway. Evan was one of the “lucky” ones—one of those people that got phrases so specific, it would be impossible to meet his soulmate and not know it. However, it was kind of inconvenient. He spent years wearing sweaters and long-sleeved shirts to cover up the phrase inked on his right wrist: “Are you fucking kidding me?” People gawking at his soul mark coupled with his crippling social anxiety made for a very uncomfortable cocktail of emotions.

He had tried scrubbing it off with soap and water as a kid, even considered getting it inked out with a black tattoo. But the soul marks were impossible to scrub off and he was scared of needles, so he stuck with just keeping it covered. Even with the reminder ever-present, Evan didn’t really believe in the whole “soulmates” thing. After all, his parents had been so-called soulmates, and look where that landed them. Plus, a little voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like his own whispered that there was no way anyone in the universe would be meant for someone like him.

Well, that was until a quarter through his senior year.

The trees in town were turning gorgeous oranges and yellows, painting Evan’s sleepy hometown in a warm glow. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder as he waited for Jared to pick him up. The familiar maroon, junky-looking car pulled into his driveway, and Evan opened the passenger side and half-sat, half-fell into the seat.

“Evan, bro, did you finish last night’s chem homework?” Jared asked immediately. Evan had half a mind to say an indignant, “Well good morning to you too,”, but then he started thinking about whether Jared would understand what he was saying and not get the sarcasm, something he didn’t really handle well, oh god what if Jared just thought he was an idiot? He’d stop giving him rides to school and his mom would have to drive him, making her late and then she’d lose her job and he’d have to make ends meet by working at a shady bar and—

“Dude, you okay? You thinking about your weird sex dreams about one of the Murphys again?” Jared cackled. Evan turned bright red.

“OhmygodJaredshutup!”

The rest of the ride to school was uneventful, Jared talking more about his weekend (“Yeah, I crashed a college kegger. It wasn’t cool enough for the infamously awesome Jared Kleinman, so I left after an hour. No big deal.”) while Evan just stared out at the world rushing by. He tried not to look at the tops of trees anymore, and not for too long, unless the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach returned, thinking about last summer.

“Okay, but seriously, I need to borrow your chem homework, or I’m doomed,” Jared said pulling in to his parking spot. Evan nodded—at least he didn’t have to pay gas money—and dug through his backpack.

“Uhhhh….h-here it is,” Evan said, kind of shoving it in Jared’s direction. Jared smiled wide.

“Thanks man! I’ll give it back by lunch.”

“Jared, don’t you get A’s in everything? W-Why can’t you just, I dunno…do the work, yourself, maybe?” Evan suggested, getting out of Jared’s car. He just laughed, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“Wow, look at Hansen over here, a straight-up genius,” Jared said sarcastically. Evan looked down at the ground, focusing on a pile of leaves near the sidewalk. “Yeah, like I would do that. I’ve got way cooler things to do with my friends. My other friends.” Jared tugged on his shirt collar in something that Evan would recognize as awkwardness if everything Jared did wasn’t awkward on its own account.

“O-Okay. Um, see you at lunch?” It was more of a question than a statement, and Evan swore at himself in his head as he walked away. God, why did he always let Jared walk all over him? Because he’s your only friend,” that voice in his head said.

“N-Not true! I have—I have friends,” Evan thought defensively.

“Yeah, and that’s why you’re standing in the middle of the parking lot talking to yourself.”

Goddammit. He was doing this again.

Evan messed with the hem of his shirt, rolling it up and smoothing it out again, wringing it with his fingers. He tried very hard to just focus on his blue converse: stepping on a square floor tile, flecked with brown and gold spots, the way his shoe crinkled up when he stepped—

CRASH!

Evan yelped as he knocked into you full-force, knocking you over and onto the ground. His hands shot out to catch himself, and he did—with his arms pinned right beside your’s face. Wide eyes stared up at him, and he felt his face and neck flush a bright, embarrassed red from the position he was in, effectively landing right on topof you.

Evan opened and closed his mouth, making him look kind of like a fish. “I-I-I’m so sorry, I must have—must have tripped, and um, oh my god this is embarrassing I am so so sorry—“

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Evan’s eyes went wide, and he practically jumped off of you. There was a crowd of people forming around them now, watching the scene in the hallway. Evan felt his cheeks and the tips of his ears burning, felt the sting of tears threatening to spill. His throat felt tight and his hands were starting to shake, fingers fumbling where he was messing with his shirt hem. You shot up, glancing worriedly at the gathering crowd and grabbing your things, cursing under your breath. When you saw Evan, however, your eyes got wide again, and you grabbed Evan’s hand, both gentle and insisting.

“Come on, let’s go,” you murmured, squeezing his hand encouragingly and pointedly not looking at the other people surrounding you, and Evan nodded, getting to his feet and walking quickly away. He didn’t even notice you were holding his hand, until he thought about how warm your hand was—and oh god, were his warm too? Were they getting sweaty like they did the night he had waited for Zoe, but only got sweaty because he was thinking about them getting sweaty and now they were because he was thinking so much—

“Okay, I think we’re good,” you said, relieved, effectively stopping Evan’s runaway train of thought. You had a habit of doing that, Evan thought absently. He didn’t stop to ponder if that was a good thing or a bad thing. You had pulled him into a little alcove in a pretty deserted part of the school. Evan’s free fingers still played nervously with his hem.

“Listen, I’m—I’m sorry, about, um, whatever that w-was, and if you took me aside to say you never want to talk to me again I mean I guess that’s fine?” Evan rambled out, not thinking before he spoke.

You gave him a look of complete confusion. “Why would I not want to talk to you?” you asked. “I mean, I think this gives me more than enough reason to want to talk to you.” You made a move to take off your jacket, pulling down your t-shirt sleeve so this boy who had tripped into you could read the black words inked onto your collarbone in his messy handwriting: “I-I-I’m so sorry, I must have—must have tripped, and um, oh my god this is embarrassing I am so so sorry”.

Evan’s jaw hit the floor. This could notbe happening. He fumbled with his shirt sleeve, pulling it up to show your vulgar first words to him. “Wow, I-I can’t believe they…they even got my, um my stutter right??” Evan said, gesturing to your soul marks.

You stared at him blankly for second before laughing. Full-on cackling, bent-over-at-the-middle laughing. You even snorted a little bit, slapping a hand over your mouth. Evan suppressed a giggle; that was kind of…cute?

“This is insane,” you said, still kind of laughing. “The first thing I get when I move here is my soulmate just, showing up out of the blue? What the hell?” And then you were laughing, and Evan was smiling shyly, and then laughing along with you. Two laughing weirdos in an alcove in a high school hallway.

“I’m—I’m (Y/N),” you finally said, holding out your hand.

“E-Evan. Hansen.” He tentatively took it in his own, not objecting a bit when you threaded your fingers through his.

“Well, hello, Evan,” you said, sweetly looking into his eyes. “I’m just loving this incredibly awkward first meeting we’re having, but I don’t want to be late on my first day of classes. Maybe we could meet up later…?” you asked hesitantly. Evan felt his cheeks grow pink again.

“Oh, um, yeah! Yeah, of course. I mean, what kind of guy would say no, to his soulmate, right? God. Soulmate. Um. Wow.” Evan’s still confused and bewildered rambling made you laugh.

“Yeah. Wow.” You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. “I guess I’ll see you later, Evan Hansen.” You smiled at him one last time and squeezed his hand, letting your hand fall from his grasp. You could barely contain your excitement as you walked down the hallway, shoulders hunched and smile wide.

Evan watched you go, out of breath suddenly. He couldn’t believe the universe gave him such good luck—you were so pretty, and caring, and funny, and god you were just so cute, this was impossible. There was no way you were real.

Then, he glanced back down at the words on his wrist, the objectively vulgar words taking on completely new meaning. Instead of feeling like the surrounding chilly fall air, he felt like early spring, in bloom and bursting at the seams.

~~~~

Fic and head canon requests are open! ~Mod V☆

[lunalockser]

Little Do You Know

Link to FF.net version

Link to AO3

Summary: “Little do you know how I’m breaking while you fall asleep”,“Little do you know all my mistakes are slowly drowning me” songfic based on Little Do You Know by Alex and Sierra

Note: Hey Puddins. I wrote this little gem out of the blue and I hope you enjoy. I was just listening to this song then next thing I knew I was typing. Enjoy.This story is based on “Little Do You Know” by Alex and Sierra.

Juvia

Gray

Both

Little do you know

How I’m breaking while you fall asleep

Little do you know

I’m still haunted by the memories

Little do you know

I’m trying to pick myself up piece by piece

Little do you know

I need a little more time

Juvia sat in her bed looking out the window. Raindrops slowly leaked from the clouds, mimicking the tears dripping from her eyes. The night air was cold, but she wasn’t sure if that came from the outside, her sad heart, or the sleeping ice mage next to her. After all her months of struggling, she should be happy with Gray being with her. But despite her blossoming relationship, she was still battling with his betrayal from Avatar. Her nightmares still came every night, and they were always the same.

Waking up in that house and finding herself alone again. His face joining everyone else who she grouped together. Those who had left her. All of them, standing together, complaining about the one thing they resented most, her.

Her face grew wetter as she choked back sobs. No matter how much she tried to pretend that it was okay, no matter how much she tried to move on from the bitterness, it would never change the fact that he had left her. He had confirmed her worst fear; that he was just like everyone else. He did the one thing that Juvia had been afraid of, he left her rejected. All the progress Juvia had made suddenly vanished. No matter how far she had come, she would always be the woman desperately mortified of being abandoned. Maybe in a few years, she could be the person she wanted to be, but for now, she was just Juvia, the Rainwoman.

She could never find the words to tell Gray this though, and she tried to love him, she realized he was trying. But right now she couldn’t go back to the old way of loving him, her wounds were just too fresh, even months after the war with Alvarez had ended. So, for now, she just cried in the night, while he slept soundly next to her.

Underneath it all, I’m held captive by the hole inside

I’ve been holding back for the fear that you might change your mind

I’m ready to forgive you but forgetting is a harder fight

Little do you know

I need a little more time

Every day was a war for Juvia. She managed to keep herself mostly occupied with restoring the town and odd jobs, and she managed to keep her smile on throughout the day, but still, her anxieties nagged at her constantly. Never was there a moment that the pressure on her chest lifted. It took everything she had not to crumble. Whenever she turned her back, she still had the irrational sense that the others were scorning her, were wishing, like everyone else had in her past, that she would go away, and plotting their move to leave her.

As often as she felt she was evolving from those terrors, they still held her. She wanted to fully accept everyone’s promises, Gray’s promise that they loved her and would stay with her, but she still felt the impending doom of their departure.

But she couldn’t tell Gray this. If he thought there was no chance of her forgiving him, then he might give up on trying, and Juvia wanted to try. She wanted to try to love him fully.

Not to say that she hadn’t forgiven her beloved. No, she understood how his mind worked, and she knew that it was just a Gray Fullbuster move. But none of the rationalizings, none of the forgiveness could make her forget how bitter and hollow it felt to wake up lonely in that house. Nothing could remove the cold feel of the rain against her skin, or numb the pain her throat endured as she screamed into the night, wondering where her Gray-sama had gone. No, forgetting would take a lot longer.

I’ll wait, I’ll wait

I love you like you’ve never felt the pain,

I’ll wait

I promise you don’t have to be afraid,

I’ll wait

The love is here and here to stay

So lay your head on me

Gray laid quietly in their bed, listening to his love sob next to him. He wanted to sit up and pull her into his arms, but he recognized she wasn’t ready. Rushing her was the last thing he wanted to do. After everything he’s put her through, being patient was the least he could give her. He wished she would come talk to him, but he understood her hesitations. He just had to wait for her to reopen up to him, and then he would be able to show her how much he loved her.

He would be the man she spent so long waiting for, would be the one to make all her years of loneliness and desolation disappear. He would be the one to love her so much she forgot all the pain she’s ever felt. The man just wanted to grab her and let her know that she didn’t have to be anxious to talk to him, he was here to stay this time. His love for her only grew every day, and this time, he would rather die than leave her again.

Little do you know

I know you’re hurting while I’m sound asleep

Little do you know

All my mistakes are slowly drowning me

Little do you know

I’m trying to make it better piece by piece

Little do you know

I, I love you ‘til the sun dies

The ice mage saw that she would stay awake late into the night crying, and it had been going on since they had returned to Magnolia after the guild reformed. She would always do it late into the night so that no one would be awake for the rain, and by morning she had vented out enough for it to die down.

The pain Gray felt over knowing that he had done this to her was deafening. Even as he tried to make everything right, he recognized it would never be enough. He had done the worst thing possible to Juvia, left her deserted. He had overestimated her growth, had lied to himself in a vain attempt of justification, had tried to tell himself that she would be fine. In the back of his mind, he had known that it was bullshit though. He didn’t have any justification at all, he had been selfish. He had at one point tried to argue with himself that it was an idiot trait of Fairy Tail men, but even that couldn’t hold. He was even more of a bastard than Gajeel, at least he never broke anyone mentally. Gray was an asshole, and he hated himself for that. He doubted he could ever amend his offenses, ever heal the wounds, but he would try. For her. Because even if he couldn’t ever atone, even if her curse came back and Magnolia never got another sunny day; he would love her.

Oh wait, just wait

I love you like I’ve never felt the pain,

Just wait

I love you like I’ve never been afraid,

Just wait

Our love is here and here to stay

So lay your head on me

As the rain began to drizzle away, Juvia welcomed the quiet. She knew that these moments were difficult, but given time, something would blossom. Juvia could only look forward to the day she would wake up without any hesitations, and though it would take years or even decades, Juvia had hope.

Hope for a time when her heart would come out of its timid shell and all the pain of her past would no longer hinder her love. None of the ex-boyfriends, the family, and the supposed friends who she had been abandoned by would matter because she would wake up every morning knowing that Fairy Tail would never leave her. Her love for Gray would only grow stronger. It just needed time.

Listening to the silence, Gray could feel Juvia’s heartbeat ease to a normal pace, signaling she was done with her emotional release session for the night. When she laid down next to him, he brought her closer into his arms, playing it off as though he were still sleeping. He knew that she didn’t want him to know her nightly strife just yet, and he respected that wish, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t want to help her. He could only wait for her to be ready.

Once she gave him the ok, he was prepared to go through hell for her forgiveness, to make peace with his faults. He would fight to create a place where nothing from his past would get to them. Losing his parents, losing Ur, and his emotional constipation would no longer cripple his decisions. He would build a new life, a life where he could hold onto Juvia and never let her go. They would be each other’s strength. It just needed time.

I’ll wait (I’ll wait), I’ll wait (I’ll wait)

I love you like you’ve never felt the pain,

I’ll wait (I’ll wait)

I promise you don’t have to be afraid,

I’ll wait

The love is here and here to stay

So lay your head on me

Lay your head on me

So lay your head on me

Juvia nestled into her lover’s chest for the night, hoping to get some sleep. Feeling the cool press of his skin. She knew that no matter what endeavors lay ahead of her; she would face them with this man. Their love could stand it, and no matter what horrors she would face, she had Gray, and Gajeel and all her friends to help her through it.

Gray inhaled the scent of his girlfriend’s hair, letting her overwhelm his dreams. He would be here when she was ready to talk, and whatever she decided to do, he would help her. Nothing could tear them apart, and he had everything to look forward to.

'Cause little do you know

I, I love you 'til the sun dies

“I love you” they whispered to each other in their dreams.

Notes:

So there you go. I had to write this since, in my opinion(and that of my sister), Mashima made Juvia forgive Gray WAY too easy. This should hold you guys off until I’m done with my multi-chaptered story. I don’t want to publish it until it’s done because I write sporadically and would hate to leave you guys hangin. So please bare with me.

See you guys next time Puddins