#so sad he had such crappy brother rip

[blacknidstang]

Doesnt matter how much i say canonically John would do anything to save Sam, after seeing this one gifset of borgias i so badly would've loved to see John bury Sam who got killed in some dire situation just for the sake of angst and misery.

I wholeheartedly believe John wouldn't have been able to go through with killing sam even if necessary but i can imagine a very very desperate situation where there was no way to save Sam and John just has to let it happen. I need to see John carrying Sam's body bro is that too much to ask

[parkersdahlia]

tough love || m.s

𝜗ৎ based on tough love by gracie abrams

𝜗ৎ warning: mentions of being drunk that's it i guess

you were currently sitting on a train, it was a saturday night and you felt crappy like you wanted to cry because your boyfriend of 2 years was gone. it was the night after your 24th birthday and the guilt of breaking up with him was starting to catch up. you had done it over text, telling him that it was the right thing to do. he was freaking out constantly asking you why and was it something he'd done or said. you explained to him how his growing popularity with his brothers meant that fans will get increasingly invasive and mean. he said he didn't care but you were pretty firm on your decision. he asked to meet up atleast once to talk things out and figure things out but you refused.

It has now been a week and at first you didn't feel much guilt but last night when you were celebrating, surrounded by your friends, you suddenly missed his presence and the guilt catching up to you. in a drunken state you stalked one of his brother's story and found out they're currently home. which is why you found yourself in a train that was taking you to boston. sitting in his jacket that had a little rip in the side. you look around the train full of strangers. normally, it would freak you out but not right now. you liked these strangers more, more than anyone else in this moment. you found being surrounded by them oddly comforting. you sat there and thought about how you hated when you both fought. It sucked. but then you thought whatever ,he's just one of the boys afterall and you're so young and you can date whoever you want and leave when you feel bored. there was no need to be so sad about it right?.

the train eventually came to a halt and you got down. the cold evening boston breeze hitting you, making you shiver and hug yourself tightly holding the jacket closer. you took a cab to his house feeling weird and doubtful all of a sudden about what you were doing. travelling all the way to his hometown all of a sudden? after ghosting him and not returning even one of his desperate calls or texts. was this right? you thought to yourself. you don't get much time to think because the cab was pulling up outside his house making your heart stop. you got down and called him before you could chicken out. he picked up making your heart skip a few beats "y/n?" he said "um hi" you said awkwardly, surprised at the fact he hasn't blocked or deleted your number yet "um c- can you- um I mean coul- could y- could you come outside?" he was confused "what? outside where?" he asked completely lost. you closed your eyes and gathering all your courage "can you come outside please? I'm here outside your house and I wanna talk" you said desperately. he goes silent for a moment. he peeks out of the window seeing you stand there completely shocked at the sudden visit. "matt?" you confirm if he's still there "um yeah i- I'll be there hold on" he said hurriedly ending the call. he comes out as you're standing there wearing his old jacket and hands shoved in the pockets. he looked so confused and totally not expecting this. "hey are you okay? is everything alright? " he asked concern lacing his pretty features and his voice. "um yeah everything is fine don't worry i- i just wanted to talk" you said looking down "I know this isn't the best time and after what I did i thought the least I can do is give you a proper explanation. I owe you" you see his features relax at that, making relief wash over yours. he nodded and your heart settled feeling greatful that he was willing to give you a chance to explain. matt was still angry and confused but he thought if you travelled all the way here just to talk then you deserved the chance and he really wanted to make things right too. he missed you so. he looks at you for a moment a little smile tugging at his lips "oh and by the way, happy belated birthday " he said , making you smile at the the fact he remembered. he took you to a coffee shop where you both talked things out, mostly you as you spent the time explaining why you did what you did and why you still think it's the best decision for the both of you. he kept on saying that he didn't care about the fans and that he can handle it, but you were firm on your decision. you told him with the amount of time spent working and increasing popularity of him and his brothers, it was easy for things to get out of control before he even realises and that he may feel like this is a bad decision right now but will resent your relationship down the line because things change and you didn't want to hold him back. "matt I'm so proud of you for doing so well but the timing isn't right" he shook his head vigorously assuring you none of that will happen. you looked at him, pained look takes over your features as you try to get your point across. you chuckled when he tried to call your bluff in desperation thinking you're making some sick joke and you shook your head. you told him you weren't just thinking about yourself but also about him and how vicious fame can be and how not charmed you are with the idea of it all and that's why you're leaving. he wouldn't understand but there's only so much explaining you can do "you'll understand my reasons eventually" you said giving his hands a squeeze whispering a quiet "goodbye" as he refused to meet your eyes swallowing his tears. you left him there in pieces, you didn't know what else you were leaving for.

leaving the coffee shop you felt heavy weight on your shoulder still lingering, not quiet off and with you not home and nowhere else to go you decided to take a walk by the river. the cold night breeze making you shiver as you kept walking you found a bench and decided to sit there and gather your thoughts. greatful for this little bench that gave you somewhere to go and washing you with a feeling of home. you sat there for a while thinking and rethinking things. it was getting too much, the constant thought of what if you were doing something wrong , what if this was a mistake and the hurt that came with breaking someone's heart you didn't want to think anymore. you felt the strong urge to forget and drown out your feelings. you realised there's a bar down the road, deciding on spending whatever time you have left in boston there.

you get to the bar only to run into the sister of a boy you had met through some mutual friend back in college. you and her decided to get wasted toghether. you didn't know her well but you knew she was a bit of a weird intellect. she was very harsh and direct with her words. she really liked to tell the truth and say things for what they are. that's why all her boyfriends up and left , they couldn't take her honesty. she just had that effect to her, you thought to yourself. you told her how you had just broken the heart of your boyfriend who is now an ex. you told her being honest and leaving feels brutal she nodded and said "but that's just tough love and you're lucky to receive it right?" she said hitting the table to go with what she's saying, god she was hammered , you thought to yourself. "he'll just crumble to pieces" she continued sipping on her drink shrugging her shoulders making you chuckle. "love is not always soft sometimes it's tough. I mean you left him because you were thinking about him and you care for him, right?" you nodded "you left him even though it hurt you , you left him because you don't want to hold him back. he may not understand it now but he will eventually" she said. she had a harsh way of telling things but she was also right.

after leaving the bar you walked towards the train station waiting for a train back home. you settled down inside the train, still clad in his jacket, in a similar position you found yourself in hours ago but this time your mind was much lighter and the weight lifting off by the second. you thought of all the negatives. everyone talks about things you'll miss when you seperate from a person but you tried to think of things that you won't miss about him, trying to make yourself feel better about leaving you though how you weren't going to miss the way he kicked you in your bed while sleeping, a childhood habit of his, or his crappy rich influencer friends who were entitled and so full of themselves who preferred to spend their nights binge drinking, or his old inflated ego that he couldn't hide sometimes knowing there's so many people that wanted him, or his shallow thinking, you were not doing to miss denying that you've got your own damn reasons. a smile taking over your lips as you thought there was no way you were wasting your 20s on random men. they were nowhere close to being cooler, smarter or tougher than all your friends and although you hated the thought of leaving someone's heart bleeding , you were still free and young and not ready to be with someone if it didn't feel right. you took a deep breath smiling to yourself,

now knowing and understanding, what you truly left for.

a/n: shaking as I type this because this is literally my first fic ever and I'm so scared and excited to put this out. I've wanted to write this for so long honestly but a huge shoutout to @jayz4dayz4 making that post that finally pushed me to write it and put it out <33 hope this is good enough xx

divider by : @poemale

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Damage Control - 3x08 A Very Supernatural Christmas

“Hfffttthh…!” Sam miserably sucks in air through gritted teeth while Dean wraps a band-aid around his injured finger. He’s missing an entire nail after the Walshes pulled it out with pliers, and Dean has to stop himself from exclaiming a loud and angry “Fudge!” 

For all their quaint-and-cozy 50’s behavior, the pair of pagan gods had been anything but nice: apart from the nasty wound on Sam’s finger, they’re both sporting deep knife cuts on their forearms, and the vote’s still out on who’s got a bigger lump hidden in their hair from getting knocked out. At least Dean got away with all his teeth still in his mouth.

“Hold it up,” Dean instructs, pointing at Sam‘s hand. “It’ll throb less.”

“It’s not that bad,” Sam claims, face pinched.

“Oh yes it is,” Dean chuckles darkly. He’s had his own share of ripped-out or blackened nails to know exactly how much such an injury hurts - small but torturous, and a bitch to deal with until the nail at least starts growing back. “Gimme that arm.”

Gently, he unwraps his bandana from where he’d tied it around the slash below Sam’ elbow.

“Stitches?” Sam asks, his lips a thin line.

Inspecting the wound, Dean shakes his head. “Nah, didn’t go into the muscle. Steri-strips will do the job.”

“And you?”

Sam frowns at the bloody dish towels Dean had wound around his own arms at the Walshes’ house before fleeing the crime scene.

“Same, I guess. I’ll live.”

Ten minutes later, they’re both leaving the motel bathroom with bandages around their forearms and butterfly stitches and steri-strips pulling uncomfortably underneath. In need of an anodyne, Dean walks over to the kitchenette and peers into the fridge. Its contents are bleak: some left-over Chinese takeout food and a half-eaten, re-wrapped sandwich along with a lone bottle of beer.

Not good.

“Are we out of beer?” 

”Huh?” Sam joins him, his right hand protectively cradled in his left. “Looks like it. I don’t think there’s any in the trunk. I hauled two six-packs in here when we arrived.”

“Well, we need some.” Frustrated, Dean thuds the fridge shut a bit too forcefully. “Sad enough that it’s Christmas Eve and we’re sitting in this shithole looking like Bad Santa worked us over. I’m not gonna spend the night sober on top of it.”

He casts a morose glance around the old-fashioned motel room with its smelly, threadbare carpet, outdated furniture and depressing green-brown decor. The ceiling light casts a sickly yellowish sheen over it all, and the lone art print over their beds is so faded, he can’t even tell whether it’s a landscape or a crappy still life of some kind. 

Normally, he doesn’t care all that much. He’s used to living out of duffel bags in cheap motel rooms, and he’s learned to keep his expectations low so he can enjoy the occasional perk - magic fingers, pay tv or even a whirlpool tub - all the more. But it’s Christmas Eve. His last Christmas. And he can’t help longing for some coziness and that childlike feeling of wonder he remembers from his very early childhood. 

Mom. 

She made him Rice Krispie treats when he was little, and he can still remember the scent of her hair when she lifted him up to place the tree topper on their Christmas tree.

Dad. 

In the snowy driveway of their house in Lawrence, on Christmas morning, teaching Dean how to catch a softball with his shiny new glove until his fingers were nearly frozen from the cold.

Dad.

Years later, unexpectedly making it back from a hunt in time, stepping into their motel room with boxes of take-out food - the good kind that smelled of mashed potatoes and gravy and pie. Sometimes, he brought presents - a new knife for Dean, a book for Sammy. Sometimes, he even brought toys.

Sammy.

He will never forget the night his brother gave him the amulet - originally meant for Dad, but it ended up being the most precious gift Dean had ever been given. To this day, without its familiar weight around his neck, he felt naked and incomplete.

“Well, if you want more beer, you’ll have to go and buy some,” Sam explains into his thoughts. “And good luck finding a store that’s open tonight!”

Right. Ypsilanti, Michigan, is not exactly a major city, and business is likely to close up shop for the holidays. 

Dean groans. “Dammit. I'll find one. There’s got to be a Gas’n Sip somewhere, at least.”

“Bring some food while you’re at it,” Sam suggests. “That Chinese stuff in the fridge smells like feet, and I’m not ending this year with food poisoning.”

Sighing, Dean shrugs into his jacket and digs for the car keys. Finding a place that’ll sell more than microwaved pizza rolls tonight won’t be easy. But it’s Christmas, and even if Sam's doing his best to ignore that fact, Dean’s going to try and find him a decent meal. It’s what he did when they were kids, and he’s not going to stop now, while he’s still around.

“Hey Dean, maybe gas up the Impala, too? It’s running on fumes.” 

Offended, Dean scowls at Sam. “What are you talking about? Her tank’s almost half full!”  He takes care of his car, and - unless they’re entirely broke - he never lets her run low on fuel. Hunter’s rule: always keep the runaway car in good shape. Dean lives by that law. Especially since Dad died and passed Baby on to him. 

Sam blinks innocently. “Is it? Still. Just to be on the safe side.”

Dean frowns. Something’s up with his brother. He can’t put a finger on it, but something is off.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Huh?” Sam runs his good hand through his hair. It’s getting way too long. “What do you mean?”

Dean circles a flat palm at him, gesturing. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m not.” Injured finger sticking out, Sam puts his hands on his hips.

“Yeah you are,” Dean says. “You’re giving me stuff to do, doing what you can to send me away, as if-”

He stops, realization suddenly dawning. It’s Christmas Eve. His very last Christmas. And while Dean would like nothing more than to make it count, Sam wants the opposite. He wants Dean away because he can’t bear the thought that this will be the final time. 

“As if what?” Sam inquires.

Heart in his throat, Dean looks around the room, not at Sam. Then he waves him off. “Nothin’. I’ll be quick. Ice that bump on your head! You may have a concussion the way you’re acting.”

He doesn’t have one. Otherwise, Dean wouldn’t leave him alone. But it’s the best he can come up with, and Sam seems to accept it. At least, he doesn’t come back with any kind of retort and lets Dean walk out the door. 

Outside, the air has gone crisp, and the puddles in the parking lot are turning to ice. Dean wonders if they’ll have snow tonight.

xxx

Inside the motel room, Sam turns off the ceiling light and sneaks up to the window to peer through the curtain. He can see Dean crossing the parking lot, huddled into his too-thin jacket, the paved ground starting to glitter. When Sam hears the familiar rumble of the Impala, he waits until it recedes into the distance before throwing on his own jacket and going outside.

Scanning the assortment of cars in the lot, he spots an older Honda parked in a puddle of shadows where the scantily placed streetlamps don’t reach. Even with his injured hand, it’s a matter of seconds until he’s picked the Honda’s lock and another minute until he’s hot-wired it and eases out of the motel compound as inconspicuously as possible.

Taking a left turn, he aims for a gas station he saw a couple of miles away the day before. He’d seen a 24/7 sign and a small stall selling Christmas trees - the crooked left-overs no one had wanted to buy. Hopefully, some will be left. Hopefully, the stall’s still open. For Dean, he’s going to pick the best one he can find. 

The Damage Control Series Masterlist

Read the whole series on AO3 here:

[sweet-lost-husbands]

Caged - Chapter 1 - Medical whump - Whumper turned Caretaker - Omegaverse - Supernatural

Alright, we made it! So this is already posted on ao3 and its still continuing, I'm just writing each chap as I go so any ideas would be greatly appreciated!

{ Synopsis: Dean is sick and not like any omega the world has ever come across but Cas is willing to try and save his life. Only one problem: Dean is feisty and refuses to be helped, each treatment is torture. He fights and runs every chance he gets, hurting himself in the process. (:

Basically, Dean being sick and injured and Cas caring for him. Not consensually tho. Essentially just 'Forced Care'.} 

warnings: See masterlist for each chap warnings

Chap specific warnings: Forceful kidnapping, Non-consensual administration of drugs. Restraints. Needles.

Everything hurt.

Agony was all he knew.

It had been for a while now.

It felt as though his very insides were trying to twist their way through his flesh. Violent ripping sensations that spread to his entire body.

Often, he wondered if plunging a knife in there would dappen it somehow… If anything in this world could make it ease just for a moment.

He had long since got used to covering it up, even now, Dean faked a smile and continued to sip his coffee. It was one of his all-time favorite brands, a little more expensive than he could afford but worth it, nonetheless.

“I’m not lonely,” he said quietly, sitting at their dining table. Usually, he wouldn’t worry about Sam catching onto his pain, but today something was different.

“Yeah, I know.” Sam placed a plate of bacon in front of Dean and then took a seat himself. “It’s just that we haven’t seen Dad in weeks because of business, and I have late shifts in the hospital. None of us are ever really home except you. It’s not like you have a mate or… an alpha, despite your intense heats. The last one almost killed you.”

“No, it didn’t.” Dean shot back.

Sam gave him one of his many bitch faces. “Yes! It did. I was out working, and you told nobody how bad it was. I found you on the floor, writhing like you needed to get out of your skin yet nearly unconscious from the pain, with a fever that way surpassed the normal temp. Your lucky my friend Cas who is a head doctor at an omega stabilization facility had come home with me for drinks that night or you would have been toast.”

Dean brought a piece up to his mouth, ignoring what Sam had just said and savoring the smell before taking a bite. A stray drizzle of grease rushed down from the corner of his mouth. He quickly swallowed the bacon with another mouthful of coffee.

He turned his gaze back to his brother. Something wasn’t right.

“Sam? I thought you told me that you have morning shifts all week?”

“Uh, I do.”

Dean completely abandoned his food, narrowing his eyes on him. He swore he could see tears brimming in Sam’s eyes. Why was he sad?

The silence nudged Sam to continue.

“I took a day off. I need to be here for this.” The last part was barely a whisper. He waved it off. “Just eat your food Dean.”

Dean wasn’t one to let a plate of bacon get cold, so he started back at it. Each piece warmed his insides and made him feel cozy. God, he could live like this forever… he had everything he ever wanted. Sam, Baby, bacon, an actually decent apartment instead of a crappy hotel and hella good coffee—the essentials.

Across from him, Sam kept picking at his rabbit food, playing with it more than eating. It wasn’t like him, but it wasn’t unusual either. The thing that was unexpected though, were the sad smiles that kept flicking on his face every time he looked at Dean.

What the hell was going on? Did he accidentally scratch baby or something?

They finished up and Sam began to put away the plates. “I found something the other day. You know, I think you’d want to see this, Dean.”

“Sure.”

Sam returned, fiddling with his pocket before fishing out a picture and tossing it in Dean’s direction. He made sure he captured the smile that crossed Dean’s face.

He picked it up so carefully in his hands, running his eyes over every pixel with a sad fondness. “Me, you and Mum, at the beach... Your just a baby here.”

“Yeah..." Sam chuckled. "I was pretty small. I don't remember that day but Mom looks so happy in that one.”

Dean nodded in agreement, staring at the image for a while longer. He needed pictures like these… He remembered her vividly but sometimes he couldn’t figure out how certain features looked, her nose, her eyes, her smile, they got distorted in his head from time to time. It was a sweet image really, Mary holding little Sammy in her arms while Dean played in the waves just behind her. She held a smile that was so impossibly bright, it made Dean crumble as he looked. In fact, he was so focused on the image that he almost missed Sam checking his phone and his brother's face saddening further.

“Talk to me.” He comforted.

Before anything managed to leave Sam’s lips, he stood up from his seat and wandered over to Dean, pulling him in for a tight embrace.

They didn’t usually hug.

Sam’s voice was patchy as he spoke. “I’m so sorry, I hope that someday you’ll thank us.”

Dean shoved him off and levelled with him. His tone dropping lower and harsher than intended. “Cut the crap Sam, what’s going on?”

Just at that moment, the doorbell rang, and Sam jumped away, hiding his face from Dean. The room fell sickly silent, and yet it was so loud that it seemed to echo and bounce off the walls, only interrupted by the fleet of footsteps making their way in.

The first thing Dean noticed were the two bulky men dressed in white scrubs and how their faces resembled empathy but also a unique sternness. The next thing that drew his attention was a guy in a suit and trench coat, rather than the usual hospital attire. His eyebrows were creased at just the right angle to scream nothing but unyielding concern.

A foreign part of Dean found his presence slightly comforting but the rest cowered.

He knew what this meant. Where they came from.

He stood, his fists clenched at his sides and a burning feeling of rage bubbled up. He tried to hide it as best he could, but clearly not enough as the orderlies exchanged a glance.

The guy in the trench coat extended his hand. “My name is Dr Castiel Novak but you can call me Cas, it’s nice to formally meet you Dean.”

No, no no no nonono.

“Yeah, well forgive me if I don’t feel the same way.”

He could already see this playing out in his head, and he was NOT going to go. He wouldn’t allow himself to become some vegetable rotting in the Omega stabilization facility for all eternity.

This was exactly what Dad was trying to protect him from. Why he wasn’t allowed to be an omega in the first place.

He knew what happened to omegas in these facilities, how their autonomy was stolen away like a thief in the night, followed by gradual dehumanising treatments designed to get you to yield or break… but perhaps by the time you’d yield, you were already broken. Some part of you forever gone and unrecoverable. That was not the type of life he wanted.

He took a step back.

The bitch had the audacity to take a step closer, cocking his head to the side, acknowledging Dean’s distress, making it almost irresistible not to find a sense of trust in him, even if just from his eyes alone.

His voice was gravely but gentle, “I understand that you've been struggling lately, and we are worried about your well-being and physical health. The higher ups in Omega Care have reviewed your case and there is a warrant out for your stabilization. For your own safety, it has been declared that it would be best for you to receive care in a special omega trained facility.”

Dean took a few more steps backwards until his back pressed up against the wall. Fuck<.i>. He was cornered. His body betrayed him as it began to shake.

He could do it; he couldn’t go there.

His life would be ruined.

Before he had a chance to control his mouth, words shot out. “No! you can’t do that!”

“I’m afraid we can.” He neared again; it was suffocating. Suddenly the whole world was closing in on him. His hands waved around his chest in the universal language of not getting enough air.

Castiel took another step, but Dean screamed to stay away, flinging his arms about trying to control his breathing on his own. He was growing more desperate by the moment as everything sunk in.

“Sam?” He looked to his brother for help but was met with nothing. He was standing on the other side of the room, useless, tears flowing out of his eyes.

“I’m sorry Dean, but you need help.” He said in between wiping the water away. “I’ve seen how you refuse to be submissive even though it’s in your nature, how you refuse to get help during your heats, how dad forced you onto high dose suppressants at an early age and so now your body is all out of whack form being wrongly treated, this way you live, its unsustainable. It will kill you.”

“That- I can explain that, please don’t do this.” He could hear the blood pumping in his ears, he would have hit Sam had there not been orderlies in the room who would use it as another thing to lock him away for—to fix.

Dr. Novak held his hands out in front of him, the palms of his hands facing up, an open gesture to show that he had no ulterior motive. “I know this feels unfair, Dean, but we genuinely believe this is the best course of action for you. With proper care and treatment, you can find the stability you deserve.”

“How dare you.” He hissed towards Sam. He wanted to smash something—to just get away.

“Calm down.” One of the orderlies spoke with authority laced in his voice, trying to maintain a safe environment.

Dr. Novak held eye contact with him, his posture calm and collected like he wasn’t repelled by his anguish. “It’s understandable that you’re feeling betrayal at this time. but we’re here to help you, not punish you. Deep breaths okay, just like me.” He started to imitate the breaths as an example, hoping Dean would follow.

“Go fuck yourself.” Dean cried, pressing his back into the wall, wishing he would just sink into it.

But the Doctor continued, “We get that this is hard to accept but we have your best interests at heart. The facility can provide the specialized care and support you need.”

He had to get out of here. Now.

Dean's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape route. His heart thundered in his chest, and a sense of urgency welled up inside him. He couldn’t go there, he needed freedom. He’d do anything for freedom.

The two orderlies, strong and composed, stood nearby, their eyes trained on Dean, prepared for any sudden movements.

Dr. Novak’s expression softened, but his resolve remained firm.

“Dean, just come with us, okay? Let us help you.”

“I will never let you help me!”

His head spun, nothing seemed reasonable anymore except for escape. It was his only option.

When their dad got sloppy drunk and left them for weeks on end to fend for themselves after their mother’s death, Dean had stayed because he had to. Sam still needed him. But now, nothing was keeping him here.

He lunged forward, but the orderlies reacted swiftly, grabbing hold of his arms to prevent him. He used every ounce of energy he had to struggle against their grip, his eyes wild with desperation.

“Easy, easy.” One of them grunted.

“Let me go! Pleaseee.”

The orderlies overpowered him, restraining him with gentle but firm strength and eventually his resistance wavered.

He wasn’t strong enough…. Well, that’s what they thought.

“We don’t want to hurt you, Dean, but we can’t allow you to endanger yourself. It’s for your own safety.

“You don't understand... nobody does. I just want to continue living my life.”

Sam spoke up from the back. “Don’t fight them Dean, it makes this harder on all of us.”

How dare he! How fucking dare he!

Dean knew what he was going to do when the time presented itself. So, he took one last glance at their house —at baby —at Sam, focused on the taste of bacon and coffee that still lingered on his tongue, so no matter how long he would be there for, he would remember all the things he loved.

Dr. Novak approached him with empathy, his voice filled with understanding. He took one of his hands and squeezed it, letting him know that he was not alone.

“It's not forever, just a step towards finding the freedom you're searching for.”

There was his opportunity. In a heartbeat, he shifted his weight and flung his elbow straight at Dr. Novak’s face. A small cry escaped the doctor's lips as he staggered backward. Dean turned, dodging the orderlies quick attempt to control him. They were trained —but he was trained better. He’d been taught to fight since the day he was born. His father had made sure of that.

He quickly gained leverage and punched one in the face then kicked the other in the stomach to release his arm. He didn’t need to think before he pelted for the door. Strong forceful hands found their way around his waist and jolted him away. Sam was holding him and goddamnit that kid refused to let go.

“Sam!” Dean screamed breathlessly. “If you don’t fricken let go, I’m gonna —”

His pants and struggles outweighed his words. He was freakishly aware of the orderlies gathering themselves and approaching. He had to do something now, but Sam wouldn’t give.

“Please!” A breath, nothing was happening, “Sam, if you let them take me, I can never forgive this.”

The sting of something sharp being stabbed into his shoulder made him hiss and throw his weight in a last attempt to get away.

He was too late.

“Sammy, please.” He cried, aware of how his body started to unwillingly weaken. “Don’t—” He felt himself go limp in his brothers’ arms; a stray tear rolled down his cheek. “Don’t let them take me.”

Dr. Novak's remorseful face despite the blood that flowed down from his nose, was the last thing Deean saw before his eyes forced themselves shut.

~

When he edged on consciousness once more, he started to hear voices around him and feel the sensations around his body. Something was pressing against his waist then the length of his legs, a second later it was pulled away. A persistent beeping faded in and then some voices.

“Good.”

Oh god, he recognised that voice—Castiel. That son of a bitch. He wanted to wrap his hands around that doctor and squeeze. Hard.

Dean tuned into the conversation. Perhaps it could offer some information he could use as leverage.

“Run the measurements up to the manufacturing sector, tell them I don’t care about costs, I just need the equipment mentioned in my previous email. Tell them that it must be the perfect quality and I needed it yesterday!”

“Yes, of course, Cas. I have also put the rest of Mr Winchesters team on standby, they will come within moments notice if you press the button.”

“Thanks Gabe.”

Dean could hear a set of footsteps fade then stop. The screeching of a heavy door as it was opened and then shut once more, not failing to miss the dreadful sound of it locking. His body betrayed him, he could feel as panic set in. He was completely trapped and without escape.

He hated that the beeping from the machine beside him immediately increased, which drew Castiel’s attention.

“Dean?” He could tell by the way Castiel had said it, that it was filled with worry and a hint of dread. That only made Dean so much more furious. He didn’t want to be pitied, he didn’t want to be looked down upon, he just wanted to go home.

A what-was-supposed-to-be comforting hand came to rest on his shoulder. White hot anger boiled up in Dean so fast that he shot his eyes opened and lunged. Firm restraints restricted his actions and to his dismay, no matter how much he struggled they didn’t give.

No no no no!

Cas took a step back, calm as he fucking aways was, that prick. “Dean! Dean, stop!”

Some weird feeling hinted on the surface, something about his commanding voice made the words linger on the tip of his head. But it was only slight, barely even noticeable and Dean was able to power through it and keep struggling.

Needed freedom…At any cost… … can’t be here… not a weak omega made to be bred.

Cas was quick to fasten all the restraints so now he could barely move and then throw himself on top, trying to halt Dean’s desperate movements with his weight.

Again, the strange feeling pulsed, too small to truly understand it but enough for him to recognise that something was different. Perhaps Cas’s body was kind of warm against his.

“Dean.” Castiel said firmly.

His head shifted back. No no no no no.

He struggled.

He wouldn’t give in; his father would be furious. He was a solider, he wasn’t allowed to be weak—to submit.

Cas spoke with urgency, boarding on the edge of begging. “You must stop. We are trying to lean away from giving you any drugs, but we will if we have to. You understand we cannot let you hurt yourself.”

Dean could barely make out the words behind the thick layer of hatred he had for him—this place.

He almost wanted to cry at the sound of a small crowd rushing in. From the little that he could see whilst struggling, they all looked like headless chickens. Some—most, found their way over and began to help hold him down. He hated it.

Must get away must get away mustgetaway

“Cas!” One man yelled in a heavy English accent. “What do you need?”

“Stop Dean, please.” But the man underneath him, never wavered his defence. “Goddamnit. Alright Ketch give him the sedative.”

There was uncertainty in the other man’s voice. “But Sir…”

Cas cut in, “I fucking know, but we are out of options here.” He paused as Ketch began to administer the sedative. “And you.” He pointed to a red-haired woman currently holding Dean's forearm down. “Tell Gabe to hurry the fuck up, I don’t think he'll survive another dose.”

Was that worry in his voice? Did he generally care? Fuck him!

They all eased off as Dean became limp once more.

Originally Omega Care wanted them to stay at a facility but once it was seen that Dean was much worse than previously thought, they allowed Cas to treat him at his own house as long as it was properly accommodated to Dean’s needs.

The house itself was spacious, the walls were an off-cream colour except one which was a faded green. Most of the floor was empty bar a couple of medical cabinets, draws, chairs and the bed Dean was in currently. The rest was going to be filled up with new medical machines which were tailor made to Dean’s measurements.

There was a widow overlooking the estate with a nice garden and pool, that maybe one day Dean could have the luxury of going in and a meeting room off to the side.

There was a one big door on one wall which was the exit and a stream of smaller doors on another. The first and last were bathrooms while every other was a bedroom for Dean’s new team of professionals. Cas’s room was in the middle and the biggest since he owned the place. It would be a nice place to stabilize the omega boy. Nicer than some facility.

A taller member of the team which held a badge with the name ‘Benny’ on it, spoke up from the crowd. “Poor mate doesn’t realise how badly he’s hurt and that by struggling he’s just making it worse.”

The all seemed to mumble in agreement.

Cas moved away and then turned to address all of them. “Before you all came here, you got the briefing on the patient.” Their eyes wondered over to Dean unconscious, looking far to pale and vulnerable and then back to him.

“But now I shall give you the more accurate and updated status of the patient.” They all seemed to know what that meant, that he was worse than previously thought.

Regardless, Cas continued: “Dean Winchester, aged 32, male, submissive omega. His father John Winchester was arrested earlier today for neglecting and abusing Dean in his early childhood and then throughout his life. It is estimated that he gave Dean a heavy dose of suppressants from an early age, which completely wrecked his system. Then possibly a ton of other meds in order to hide the damage that he had caused. There's also suspected brainwash, where Dean doesn’t think of himself as an omega and is severely sacred and hating towards alphas. A lot of stuff remains unknown about his case and history, so there could be many complications.”

Their faces had all saddened.

“It was the hospital who reported him to Omega Care after an almost fatal heat. The overall damage that has occurred throughout his life makes him not able to: react to Alpha commands, drop, be submissive—and in most instances, it even causes him distress and fear… Either way, as a result of this, the internal and irreversible damage to his body along with the fact that he hasn’t received any neutralizing alpha pheromones to counteract his overactive omega ones, his hormone levels are declining rapidly. It suspected that with a dialogises like this, he won’t last for more than two weeks and it’s our job to change that.”

Cas took a breath, hardly believing what he was going to say next.

“Usually the omega hormone 'Omedicstrone,' sits between 72-100 in a normal omega, anything below 50 his considered dangerous, well Dean’s is at 15. Its by far the worse case ever recorded. If we can’t get Dean to fall into submission and soon, his body will start failing him. Omegas are designed to be submissive—some more than others and by not, it can cause extensive harm.”

“Poor sod.” One guy muttered.

“Now this won’t be easy—hell he doesn’t even respond to anything that usual omegas respond to, but we are here to try to help him. Every single one of you is an Alpha so that’s a start, we’re hoping that will begin to revert his mind back to his natural state and give us hopefully a small chance for his defences to weaken. Now what we are going to have to do to him, is not going to be pretty and there’s a high chance he’ll even hate us for it, so if anyone wants to leave then the door is behind you.”

Nobody left.

And so, it was sorted, these were the people who were going to try to save Dean Winchester.

[thecrossoverwriter15]

I'm Sorry I Wasn't Strong Enough - ROTTMNT ANGSTY Oneshot

After watching The ROTTMNT Movie, I had to write a little angsty oneshot. This is set in the Krang Apocalypse which means PAIN will be present in this story. I guess this is considered a spoiler, so yeah, if you haven't since the movie and don't want to be spoiled, CLICK OFF!!

Music recommended:

Now that that's out of the way, let's get into this! One last thing, GET TISSUES, we're going down that rabbithole..

———————————————————————

“And behold. From their perch atop New York City. The Krang ripped open the sky itself. What came out was terror and what rained down upon us was worst than death.”

It has been a few months since the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles had destroyed the Kraang’s corrupt regime and future decimation, yet Casey still felt a sense of dread. Perhaps he was just struggling with the fact that he was in a whole new world, maybe it was just another crappy day, he didn’t know. While sitting on his new room Leo had given him, he contemplated on what to do about this strained feeling. Of course, Leo! He remembered, whenever he was struggling with a situation, he would talk with Master Leonardo. Talking with a friend or father usually helps with stress. With that, he decided to ask the brothers for a chat alone in the living room,

“Thanks for being here, guys,” Casey’s morose voice rang out. The four brothers sat on the couch, nodding with caring smiles.

“Casey, we’re always here for you. What’s going on?” Leo asked. Mikey jumped onto Casey’s side of the couch, asking in concern,

“Yeah, is everything okay?? If you ate a bad slice of pizza, I’m sorry! Oh my god, you did, didn’t you! I’m sorry! I swear, I didn’t mean-“

“No, no, no Mikey. It’s not that.”

“Whew!” Mikey sighed. Donnie rolled his eyes.

Casey took a deep breath, “Remember when I told you about yourselves in the future, but couldn’t finish when we arrived at Metro Tower?”

“Yeah?” Raph said.

“Well, I’ve been wanting to tell you what really happened. Just promise that it won’t affect our friendship, okay?”

“It won’t. We’re a family, a team. Whatever you say, we’ll understand.” Raph reassured.

“See…” Casey turned away and closed his eyes, “you die.”

Leo turned towards the floor in sadness, Mikey slightly gasped, Donnie’s expression turned to concern as his eyes grew and Raph gasped.

“W-what? How?” Donnie gasped.

“Donnie, when I said that you were the most innovated mind of all time? Well, you were. When Master Leonardo and I were trapped in a cave or in danger, you would use your brilliant ideas and tech to get out of it! You would use your tech to fix machines in the lair, or just make Master Leonardo trip on his own shell.”

Leo chuckled, “Just like Donnie!”

“Not helping, Nardo.” The Soft-shell groaned, before continuing, “So, what happened?”

Casey sighed as his eyes closed…

NEW YORK (2023)

“Casey, we need to retreat!” Master Leonardo shouted to the young Casey Jones who was finishing off a Krang monster. As the razor-covered hockey stick sliced through the monster’s guts, Casey turned around.

“But, we can take them!”

“Casey, listen to me. We’re outnumbered.” Master Leonardo started. The young teenager sighed and let his head sag in defeat, “I just want to save the world.”

The elder put his metal arm on Casey’s shoulder, “I know you do, but we have to focus on here and now.” Before tuning into his comn, “Donnie, can you find a way out of this?”

A particular Soft-shell turtle’s voice rang through the , “You bet I can! Meet me at the Lair. All of—“

Donnie’s voice went flat.

Leo’s heart started to race, “Donnie?”

Nothing.

“Wait, What happened? Where is he?” Casey asked with concern. When he got no answer, the teenager looked towards the broken city where Donnie last was. His face harden, he wasn’t about to lose another brother. Leo looked up at determined scholar with wide eyes, “Case?”

Casey Jones Jr. suddenly began to race towards the desolated carnage that was once their city.

“CASEY WAIT!” Master Leonardo shouted, just as a large explosion knocked him off his feet. He rolled a bit on the dirt, before conveniently hitting his head on a large stone. As his sight blackened out, he saw his scholar’s tiny slliouette racing towards the city on a mission of determination..

Casey had made it into the obliterated wreckage. Collapsed piles of brick, concrete and wood laid in rows on the earth. The building that were left had deteriorated, leaving cracks and a quite an unpleasant smell around the area. The air was unusually heavy, making Casey’s heart beat even faster. The teenager looked around, hoping to drive his attention away from the looming notion that something bad had happened to his brother. Maybe Master Donatello found shelter and hid, perhaps he fought off the Krang with everything he got, cracked a joke! Casey chuckled, Master Dee always played pranks on Master Leonardo and Michaelangelo. And he will when they get back, he just needed to find him. Casey’s thoughts scattered away when he saw the very thing he dreaded.

Leaning against a large stone and clutching his wound was Master Donatello. Each breath seems to be a struggle as his paling body produced more and more blood.

“No, NO NO NO NO!” Casey denied the sight and ran towards his brother and uncle, falling into his knees and clutching his face in his hands, “Hey, hey. It’s ok. Just deep breaths,” Casey whispered, hoping to comfort him despite the intense pain.

Donnie only looked at him, not having the courage to lift his hand to wipe the small stream of blood that dripped down the corner of his mouth. Speaking of blood, the hole in his stomach continued to pump out squirts of blood, staining his pants and broken plastron. Casey proceed to look down at the wound as Donnie pulled his hand away. The large hole was cut straight through the soft shell and plastron, creating a yucky mess of blood and other things Casey didn’t want to know about. His eyes diverted back to Donnie, sadness blanked them.

“Okay. No worries, Master Dee. I’ll call your brother.” He blurted out and yelled into his comlink, “MASTER LEONARDO! COME IN! MASTER?!”

Thankfully, Leonardo’s spunky voice answered, “Casey, Casey! Where are you?”

“I’m in the city with Master Donatello. He’s hurt really bad. He’s bleeding a lot and is turning pale.”

Leo’s heart almost stopped, “Listen to me, I need you to apply pressure on the wound. Make sure that he stays awake. We’re on our way.”

“Copy that.” Casey strongly replied, turning off his communicator and grabbed a towel from his bag. While he was unraveling it, Donnie painfully whispered, “Case?”

“Yes Master?”

Donnie let out a bloody cough and attempted to clear his throat, “I feel light.”

Casey looked up in fear, then back down at the towel, “Just keep talking. What’s it like?”

“I don’t feel any pain anymore.”

“I’m glad.” Casey replied. His voice was quick, “Look, Master Dee, I need to put this on the wound, so it might hurt.”

Donnie nodded. The teen slowly put the towel on the wound. With seconds, the towels begin soaking up the blood like a sponge. This was not good. With a growing panic, Casey began to scramble around, looking for something, anything to cover the hole. His eyes brighten as he found a needle and thread. He could stitch the wound, then they’ll find Master Leonardo and get Master Donatello to a Med Bay. When he crawled to Dee to tell him that he found something, his brows fused together in confusion. Donnie’s face was white as snow, his lips were a tint of greyish-blue. The blood that had soaked up was dry and dark. What’s worst of all, his eyes were party opened, with a relaxed expression on his face.

“Master Dee?” Casey asked, slightly shaking him. There was no answer. The teen tried again, “Master Donatello?”

When Casey went to shake him again, Donnie’s lax body fell sideways towards the ground, causing the boy to grasp his shoulders and neck. He gently set Donnie’s head in his arms, turning it so the turtle looked at him.

“Donnie, c’mon, this isn’t funny.” Casey said with slight frustration in his voice. Yet, the Softshell’s expression didn’t budge. Casey’s nose began to radiate a bright red as his eyes stung, “Please? Donnie?”

Once again, the lax body didn’t move. Casey was almost too scared to move him in case the stone cold arms cracked like glass. Despite the resistance, he gently set the body onto the floor, making sure not to move him too much. Once the corpse had been set on the floor is when Casey really started to break down. His broken and unclear voice whispered apologies and loving words as his mind accepted the loss. He couldn’t take it anymore and proceeded to rest his forehead against the still chest and hold the hand one more time. Desperate sobs and slight screams left his mouth just as Master Leonardo, Michelangelo and the Resistance arrived. Leo and Mikey’s eyes grew when they saw the sight, with Leo kneeling down. He set his hand on Casey’s shoulder.

He didn’t want to say anything that would hurt his young apprentice even more and softly asked, “Is he gone?”

Casey looked up, his eyes red and puffy. When he saw his master, he nodded with a whine. Leo’s eyes began to grow with tears as he wrapped his arms around his child, holding him to his chest, “I know. I know. I know it hurt, but you were so strong for him. You held it together. He knew it was time. I’m sure he was glad to be with you.”

Casey sobbed into Leo’s plastron, “But, he’s gone. He’s gone, he’s gone.”

“I know,” Leo’s voice cracked, “But you helped him. I love you so much and we’re going to get through this.”

“Leo, he was happy. He wasn’t in any pain.”

That sentence nearly made Leo break down. The two looked at the body and saw Mikey hugging the head into his shoulder. The Box Turtle sniffled, “He’s cold. I don’t want to leave him here.”

Leo sniffled once more and grabbed his cape, “Can you wrap him in this?”

“Of course. I think you should say goodbye first.”

The Red-Eared Slider let out a breath and sat down next to his brother, rubbing his head and holding his hand, “I love you so much. Don’t ever forget that Dee. I know you want me to continue and that’s just what I’ll do. I promise I’ll take care of Casey, April, Mikey and the rest and you go tell Raph about your crazy adventures. I love you.” and gave one last loving kiss on his brother’s head. Leo, Mikey and Casey all helped wrap Donnie’s body in the blanket like a baby. Casey sniffled as he covered the Softshell Turtle’s face and got up. Leo proceeded to put his arms underneath the body’s head and knees and carry him out of the area and into the light…

PRESENT DAY

Donnie let his tears fall as Casey finished the heartbreaking story. Mikey clung into him like glue while Raph and Leo listened. Casey sighed as he finished. After a few moments, Donnie sniffed, “I’m glad you told me, Casey.” and got up, walking to his office where he sat in the chair and cried for a long time.

WHAT HAVE I DONE?

That’s all folks. I said pain and I delivered. I really hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to my room to have a mental breakdown on what I just wrote.

[simplestoryteller]

Yeah

I have been told I need to let things go but I still vividly remember the terror I’d feel whenever I’d have to visit my great grandmother’s with my older sister because my sister thought it was hilarious to cause all kinds of trouble and mayhem and blame it on me and my twin brother. This happened almost daily when I was 5 until my sis finally got bored of it.

Our great grandma always believed my sister and I remember a time where my sister looked at me and grinned before dumping a scoopful of oatmeal onto the table whilest our great grandmother’s back was turned. I don’t think I even managed to get that many bites of my breakfast in before having my seat be pulled away from the table my meal taken away and me getting tied to my chair, after which my sister would do the same to my brother and the grin at us and eat as if to rub it in further.

This apparently happened many times, but I only remember the first. It wasn’t until my mom told me (she and my grandpa had been trying to convince my great grandma the entire time but she’s as stubborn as a mule) told me that it happened a lot more, and while yes I do have a crappy memory I don’t think that’s the reason why I don’t remember the other times. I think my brain made me forget them

This wasn’t the only type of torture my sister did however, there were countless days where I’d be playing in the playroom only to be called for and punished/scolded for something I didn’t even know occurred. Many times I was spangled and felt utterly helpless cause it seemed as if no one was punishing my sister for this.

I still remember that dread fear and terror I felt during that period at the mere mention of going to my great grandmother’s.

My sister tried doing it with other relatives at which I’d be sent out of the room for bawling (non of the adults around me (dad was dead so he don’t count) liked it when we cried so they’d always send us to our rooms if we did) . I bawled because I feared that my safe place (the places where my sister couldn’t enact hire twisted torture) were going to be ripped away from me. Thankfully that wasn’t the case for no one else fell for her tricks but what I felt was very real.

Then one day she stopped, and the months of fear were over without any clues to why and while at first I was still fearful that she was trying to lull me into a false sense of security in truth she had truly stopped. I don’t know why, it was never told to me nor did I ever see her get punished for any of her tricks but it had ended.

As I grew up I thought these types of punishment were normal, if a bit old fashioned, it wasn’t until I got older that I realized how fucked up this all was.

I’ve also lost many relatives as in my short 21 years of life, and I’ve had friends suddenly ignore my very existence over one summer. Leading me to fear all my remaining summers cause I had no way of knowing if the knew friends I had made would forget me as well. I get antsy whenever my mother leaves abruptly with no mention of why, cause twice (maybe three times) it turned out a relative had died suddenly.

I think this is why I don’t like confrontation or yelling, and I know that being sent to my room for crying (or being yelled at “I’ll give you something to cry about”) has stunted my ability to openly show when I’m sad. I mean I had my first panic attacks cause I was bottling all my emotions up as I was always told.

I’m crying a little remembering these things, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more trauma that I don’t remember or that I’ve been impacted in more ways.

Sorry for the rant but this post reminded me of some things and I had to let them out.

Folks have got to understand that they probably aren't messed up by some Secret Big Trauma that they just can't remember; but rather by a million tiny microtraumas that they do mostly remember but don't even register as traumatic because nobody actually understood that these things would cause trauma, much less stack on each other over the years.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 12) - Not So Sweet Home

Summary: Jensen is fed up with his parents ignoring Y/N all day and when he gets a moment alone, blows up on them like never before. The reader sees how upset Jensen is over what’s happening and does her best to defend him while still trying to salvage a relationship with them...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,200ish

Warnings: language, major family angst, mention of a dead parent

A/N: Eek! If you like angst this part is for you! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

It was late, the kids asleep in the guest bedroom, Jensen’s siblings and their families gone home for the evening aside from his brother. He made some half ass excuse about wanting to hang out with Jensen more but you knew he could sense what you did. Jensen was getting close to popping after a whole day of politeness on his part and his parents ignoring you on theirs.

Jensen was bouncing his knee like crazy as he sipped on his beer around a gas fire pit, suddenly stopping when you shifted in your seat.

“Maybe you ought to cool it with the alcohol tonight,” said his dad. Jensen set his empty bottle down on the grass and breathed deeply through his nose. “Your legs been-”

“Y/N, would you get me another beer please?” asked Jensen. You took the opportunity to get out of there, surprised when the back door opened quickly after you, his brother closing it behind him.

“I don’t think your parents like me very much,” you said, going to the fridge and pulling out a drink. 

“I know,” he said, glancing out the dark window. “Jensen asked me to make sure you don’t come back out there.”

“He’s gonna go off on them.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m guessing,” he said with a sigh. “I have a feeling this isn’t going to go well. You guys can crash at my place if you want. We don’t have a guest room but we have an air mattress we can put in the family room.”

“You think it’ll be that bad?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Then why are we in here talking about this when we should be out there making sure he doesn’t say something he regrets in the morning.”

“You might hear things you can’t unhear,” he said. 

“Right now my concern isn’t if my feelings get hurt. He’s really upset and I need him to be okay.”

“You know that’s why the rest of us like you, don’t you? You care about him, the kids. You’re in love with him.”

“Yes I am,” you said as he nodded.

“You call me if either of you ever need anything,” he said, going back to the door. You nodded and took a deep breath, following him outside and already hearing raised voices.

“She’s half your age, Jensen,” said his mom. “She was your nanny. Sweetie you have to know what’s going on here.”

“You’re getting played,” said his father, catching you walking out with Josh.

“She is not half my age. She’s thirty fucking years old! She’s a goddamn adult and been through more shit then both of you put together! She’s not after fucking money,” snapped Jensen who was already out of his seat.

“You’re engaged to the girl after five months!” said his father. “It took you years to propose the first time around!”

“Because I was a nervous kid that was away working constantly. I didn’t want to make Dee stay if it was gonna make her unhappy. I’m not afraid of how I feel anymore because I feel the same about her as I do Dee and I’m not wasting my time so I can stick to your socially acceptable schedule,” said Jensen. “I love her and she’s gonna be part of this family whether you like it or not. Deal with it.”

“You need a prenup,” said his dad.

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do! You’ve known the girl for not even six months!”

“She’s not up to anything!” shouted Jensen.

“Son-”

“Have you ever lost your wife? Have you ever been in the car and almost die yourself while you watch her breathe for the last time? Where she’s hurt and you can’t do a thing to fix it? Have you ever had to tell your children their mother is dead and she’s not coming back? You have no idea, no idea, what that does to you, how much it hurts and how much it hurts when you’re still so fucked up and your parents start making comments behind closed doors about you and you have to pretend you’re better when you’re really not. When you don’t even care about yourself anymore, when you pretend for everyone’s sake so they stop treating you like a child, when you don’t know how to tell your kids it’s okay because it’s not. It’s not. Until you go through that, until you know how bad it hurts, don’t assume a damn thing about her. She’s my best friend and she makes me feel like my old self again. I laugh and smile and have fun and when I get scared or feel guilty or freak out she makes me feel better. I don’t give a fuck how old she is or what her job was. She’s kind and good and she deserves better than you two. Danneel’s parents like her. Jared’s parents like her. Her old foster dad’s family likes her. Our family likes her except for you two. Get your heads out of your asses or you can not even bother letting me know you exist anymore. I’m done with things hurting the women I care about. I couldn’t stop what happened to Dee but I can sure as hell keep Y/N away from the two of you,” said Jensen. He huffed and walked off, Josh running off after him. 

“Well congratulations. You got your hooks in him deep, don’t you,” said his father. You rolled your eyes and his mother scoffed.

“You can take care of someone without treating them like a child you know. He’s an incredibly strong person. If you don’t like me fine. But don’t call him stupid or easily manipulated or imply that it’s wrong to know you love someone after only a certain amount of time. I love your son.”

“You love his money,” said his mom.

“I do just fine on my own,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “He’s staying at Josh’s house tonight. We’ll pick up the kids in the morning.”

“He’s overreacting. He’ll be fine in the morning,” said his dad. You crossed your arms and leaned your head back. “He’ll be fine.”

“You two don’t know a thing about me and you assume I want money because of my age and my former career. Don’t assume your son will be fine and get over it.”

“We’ve known him a lot longer than you have. He’ll get over it after a night’s rest.”

“You may have known him longer and I’m sure in some regards you do know him better but not the ones that matter. If you did, you would have seen how much he would have loved for the two of you to like me. I would have taken some respect and been happy because trust me, I get how this looks to everyone else. I understand you have fears and I’m not mad you have them. I’m mad you assume those are facts when all they are is a story you made up in your head you don’t want to change. He’s right, I’m not going anywhere. The difference between him and me though is that I’ll stay out here all damn night with the two of you until you get it through your heads that I’m not here to fuck him over. I love him. I don’t have family, not really. Things have always been screwed up for me pretty much until I met him and he didn’t have to say it for me to know that he was hoping he could share the two of you with me. Maybe I was hoping for that too. But right now I’ll take some goddamn respect and an apology to your son to start and we can go from there.”

“You’re gonna curse at us and expect an apology?” said his mom. “We know you took him when he was at his low and tricked him into trusting you so you could get exactly what you wanted.”

“You know what I want? What I’ve always wanted and somehow always seems to get ripped away? A family. A stupid fucking family. Being a nanny? That let me feel like part of the family. I could pretend I was like all of those people I worked for. Nice and normal and like people gave a shit. Some kindness and a family is all I’ve ever wanted. You two...you wouldn’t have survived a day in my childhood. In my adulthood with the shitty ex boyfriend and the crappy friends and I picked myself over all of them because my mom told me to stand up for myself. Even when she couldn’t be there and I wanted her to. So I stand up for myself and now I stand up for him and those three kids to anyone and I mean anyone, that hurts them. He’s my family and those kids are my family. I don’t know what you think I’m gonna do but I guarantee the only thing I will do is tell you two where to shove it and to leave him the hell alone.”

“Why would we believe anything you say? At all?” his dad asked. “It’s probably the same sad story you told him to get him on the line. I don’t buy it.”

“I have a million dollar book deal. I’ve worked rent free for a lot of rich people since I was eighteen years old. Do I sound like someone who needs his money?” you said. You put your hands on your hips and shook your head. “What is it? You want me to sign a prenup? I would but he doesn’t want one. He trusts me and for a guy that lost his wife and had to work through falling in love with another person, I respect that. He knows what he wants and he’s not wasting time. This is scary for him. It’s scary for me. But when Dee’s parents gave me open arms and kindness and their blessing, the last people I ever expected to disapprove were you two. If you’re going to stand there and keeping calling me a liar, I’m going to find your sons and I’m going take care of Jensen instead of wasting my time here.”

“We don’t disapprove of him moving on and marrying again,” said his mom as you turned to walk away.

“Could have fooled me,” you said. 

“He’s going too fast and he doesn’t know you either, not well enough to make a decision like that,” said his dad. You turned around and smiled.

“He knows my favorite color. He knows what my favorite flavor of ice cream is. He knows why I have nightmares and he knows how to make me forget them in the first place. I’m sorry we aren’t doing things on your schedule but it’s his life. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with it, whether that’s me or somebody else. For the record, he knows me just fine. Oh and if this is how you plan on speaking to him again in the morning, I’ll pick up the kids myself.”

“We’re looking out for his best interest,” said his dad.

“No, you think you’re looking at his wallet for him. See money? People think that’s important and it is but best interest? It ain’t that shit,” you said as you started to leave.

“Well what do you assume his best interest is then?” said his mom. 

“Treating him like an adult. He is smart and strong and the most emotionally healthy man I’ve ever met which considering all the fucked up shit he’s been through and felt the past year is really saying something. He’s your child but he’s not a child. He found someone he loves and all he wanted to do was share me with you. This was his worst nightmare and I couldn’t stop it. So if you’re not gonna even try with me, then I’m gonna protect him from you.”

“He doesn’t need protecting from us,” he said.

“You call him stupid and that he can’t take care of himself, that he can be fooled and that the person he thinks is his best friend really only wants him for his money. He knows none of those things are true but it’s what you said to him when you said that about me. For a man who went through what he did, it wasn’t mean. It was cruel. I’m gonna go fix what I can of your relationship with him because despite all that, I know you guys love each other and I’m not letting that get fucked up because you think whatever the hell you think about me.”

You stormed off around the house and found Josh’s truck still there but neither man in sight. You looked around and heard a sniffle, your head going up to the roof. You saw the lattice work on the side and climbed up, peeking your head up to spot the two of them sat on the roof.

“Hey,” you said quietly. Jensen wouldn’t look at you, Josh rubbing his back. 

“Careful,” he said as you climbed up and slowly walked over. You took a seat on your bottom, spotting the window behind them. “That was my room. Jensen used to sneak out this way. I was always too nervous of getting caught to try myself. You landed the bad boy of the family.”

“Oh yeah, such a bad boy,” you said. You scooted closer on your butt to him, Jensen resting his head on his knees. “Hey. Before you even think about it don’t say you’re sorry.”

“I know,” he said. He took a deep breath but looked up, looking fairly normal aside from a slightly pink nose. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Nobody was,” said Josh. “I’ll give you guys a minute. I’ll be in my car when you’re ready.”

“You should go home,” said Jensen. “Staying in a different house won’t change anything.”

“That was kinda fucked up what they said.” Jensen raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. “I don’t always agree with them. If you guys want to stay, that’s your choice but I’m not going home without telling them what a mistake they’re making.”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re my little brother and I like her. Even if I didn’t, they’re being assholes and she doesn’t deserve that. You don’t. Alright?”

Jensen nodded and Josh walked off to the lattice and climbed down while you scooted next to Jensen. 

“You thought your siblings weren’t gonna like me,” you said.

“He’s a good person. He’s never told off our parents before so...I don’t know if I’m happy about that or not.”

“He’s a good big brother,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “I don’t love you for your family though. I don’t care if your parents don’t like me. I’ll deal with it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to,” he said.

“I still like your dad so much better than mine,” you said.

“Yours is a monster to be fair.”

“Yeah, he is. Yours love you and I don’t agree with them but in their minds, they’re protecting you and I don’t have a problem with anyone trying to do that.”

“How are you so fucking kind to them after they basically said you’re with their dumbass son because of money?”

“Like you said, I know monsters. I know toxic and bad. They aren’t it. They raised you and I really, really like you. Good people can be stupid and still be good. In the morning we’ll try again.”

“What if I can’t get them to change their minds?” he said quietly. 

“Jensen,” you said, moving to squat down in front of him. You grabbed his cheeks and he stared at you. “You don’t have to pick anybody over anybody. Maybe I won’t be close with them but that’s okay. It’s so okay. We’ll respect each other or just won’t talk to each other and we’ll figure it out but we don’t have to do it all tonight.”

“I think what bothers me the most is they’ve already made up their minds about you based on your age when they don’t even realize who you are. They don’t see that this is the kind of person you are, kind and supportive and I heard you not taking their bullshit. You’re a stronger person than I am and I wish they could see that the reason I’m not freaking out over this is cause I know you’re my partner and you got my back like I got yours. I’m just having a hard time understanding why they won’t even listen to us.”

“I don’t know,” you said, eyes darting to the window when you caught some movement inside. You narrowed them and glanced down, spotting the crack between the windowsill and frame. “I’m a little cool. I’m gonna get my sweatshirt if that’s okay.”

“Careful climbing in,” he said, turning on his bottom and pushing the window up. You kissed his cheek and climbed inside, the room empty as far as you could tell. You stepped out to the hall and into his old room, getting your hoodie, his old hoodie. You pulled it on but went downstairs, catching his parents in the kitchen with Josh.

“Josh may I speak to your parents in private,” you said.

“Yeah. I’m done here. I’ll be over for brunch, okay?” he said. He walked past you and caught your arm. “Call me if you need me back.” You nodded and he kissed your temple before he went out. 

“Were you eavesdropping on us?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“We went to tell him to get off the roof. We could see him from the backyard up there,” said his mom, putting her back to you as she mixed up something in a mug. “But we heard the three of you talking and then the two of you. We didn’t mean-”

“We are all on the same side. His side. We should get along. It shouldn’t be this difficult and I don’t appreciate private conversations being listened in on. But I hope you understand that you hurt your son. I know you didn’t mean to and it’s the last thing you’d ever want to do to him. But you did. So please try to help me fix this. This isn’t easy for me to accept that you don’t like me either but you’re gonna respect me. If we can respect each other, then he’s not going to worry as much at least. Please promise that we can agree to that,” you said. His parents looked at each other and you sighed. “You have to be kidding me. What do you want me to do? Go away? I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”

“That’s not...Jensen called your father a monster up there,” he said. 

“I thought it was a sob story according to you ten minutes ago.”

“You said you don’t have parents. He said your father is alive.”

“What’s your point, Mr. Ackles,” you said. “Please enlighten me.”

“It doesn’t make much sense to tell different stories,” he said. 

“You can’t even give me the benefit of the doubt that I love your son. Why the fuck would I tell you things only he knows, things so few people know about. Why would I trust you with the worst parts of my life when you don’t accept the best ones. For your information, my birth mother is dead. My adoptive mother is dead. I wish my son of a bitch father was dead. The only glimmer of a parent I have maybe, maybe was my foster father. That was until last weekend. I met some parents. I met Dee’s. I met Jared’s. I got the same message from all of them. Let us know if you ever need anything. Oh the way he looks at you. You must be pretty special. Anything at all, you give us a call. People that don’t even have an obligation to look in my direction treated me like I was their kid. So maybe he and I both got our hopes up with you two and that was on us. If you want to pick apart what I’ve said and call me a liar…” you said, putting your hands on your hips. Your shut your eyes and breathed deeply, turning around. “I don’t care if you have to pretend to respect me. Just do it for his sake and the kids sakes, alright?”

A tissue appeared over your shoulder and you took it, blowing your nose and stepping away. 

“When did your mother’s pass?” you heard behind you. You threw your head back and took a deep breath.

“When I was born and when I was sixteen,” you said, turning around and swallowing. “Why does that matter?”

“When were you adopted?” he asked.

“Why do you care?”

“Please.”

“I was eight,” you said.

“So you only had your mother for eight years then,” he said. 

“Yeah. She got sick when I was fourteen. I stayed with her boyfriend until I moved out for my first nanny job at eighteen. It was all very sad and angsty,” you said.

“Who made the first move?” 

“I’m done with this interrogation,” you said. You started to leave but he stepped in front of you. “What do you want from me?”

“I just want to know who made the first move, you or Jensen.”

“I don’t…” you trailed off. “We had a fight. I told him I didn’t want him to be my friend anymore, he was just my boss and that was it. We couldn’t hang out at night and stuff anymore.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want him to hurt me,” you said quietly. “I didn’t fit with his life. I’m not a pretty actress. I’m not smart. I’m the younger nanny and that’s all I was gonna be until I became an older nanny and that was supposed to be my life. I didn’t ask for…”

“For what?” asked his mother, carrying over her mug and setting it down on the end table.

“I didn’t ask for him to love me. But he did and I don’t know why but I trusted him not to hurt me. It’s not fairytales and roses all day every day but I like having a best friend and I never would have submitted those books to a publisher without him encouraging me and I need him to feel better. He can’t catch a break lately and I hate seeing him upset. It makes me sick to my stomach and I really, really need him to be okay so please stop doing this. Just stop. Please. I don’t care if we have to pretend the rest of our lives but please, I can’t keep seeing him take hit after hit anymore and not being able to stop it.”

You weren’t expecting the hug from his father or to bury your face in his chest for a brief moment. His mom guided you to sit on the couch, pulling a blanket around you. She handed you the mug and you saw it was hot chocolate, your eyes darting back and forth between them.

“This isn’t about to be like a lifetime movie where you murder me, right?” you said. 

“No,” said his mom as she sat next to you. “We hurt you quite deeply today, didn’t we.”

You stared at the mug, holding it in your hands. 

“You were looking forward to meeting us,” said his dad as he sat down on your other side.

“It doesn’t matter. All I care about is him.”

“I don’t think he’d be very happy with you laying down for a semblance of normalcy for him,” he said.

“Just spit out whatever the fuck you want,” you said. You gripped the mug and shut your eyes.

“I’d like you to stop swearing please,” he said. “In exchange, maybe we can have a second chance.”

“Second chance at what?” you said dryly.

“At meeting our son’s fiance.” You lifted your head and stared at him, catching a bashful look you saw in Jensen every so often. “We understand, as well as we can, he was hurt after Danneel. We can’t fix those problems like when he would scrape his knees. We knew he was in a vulnerable position and things between the two of you seemed so fast for how in pain he was. We thought of the worst of you before knowing you and that wasn’t right of us. We were trying to protect him. But like you said, we all try to do that. So if you’ll let us, give us a second chance.”

“For him, I will give you both a second chance,” you said. “I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this but this sort of thing isn’t going to go away just like that, for him or for me.”

“Is there anything…” said his mom as you shook your head. “We are sorry for before. Truly.”

“I know. Trust is difficult for me on a normal day. You guys kinda tore through the safety nets I thought I had with you. I need to build them up again is all.”

“That was you that said that, people have safety nets,” she said. You raised and eyebrow and she sighed. “Jensen, months back, he told us his therapist told him that, put things in perspective.”

“I guess couple’s are kinda each other’s therapists,” you said. “Sometimes they just need to vent to each other too.”

“Before you said...has he ever been to one?” asked his dad.

“Last weekend was...intense. I went to one as a child and he talked to him for a little while, helped him put things in perspective,” you said.

“Intense? Did you fight?” she asked.

“He and JJ got stung by a scorpion. It was a little serious. We went out the next night and I made a comment and he took it a different way and he got upset thinking I thought of myself as being less in his eyes than Dee was. I know it’s not true, it’s just different. He’s been having a really great week aside from today.”

You took a sip of the hot chocolate and went back for more, drinking half the mug down. 

“We screwed up,” said his dad with a sigh, sitting back against the couch. 

“Yeah but he’ll forgive you,” you said. “This is really good Mrs. Ackles.”

“Thank you sweetie and call me Donna. I made it for Jensen. He’s always liked it when he was living here and having a bad day.”

“Why do you think he’ll forgive us?” asked his dad as Donna got up.

“Because he’s Jensen. He’s not an angry man. Angry in moments but he doesn’t hold onto anger. I wouldn’t expect anything less from him. So I know he’ll forgive you. When I’m not sure of but it won’t be forever.”

“Have you two ever fought badly?” he asked.

“We’ve had a few fights. Mostly small and when we’re both tired or hungry. We had a big one a few weeks ago when he got home but we talked about why it happened and how to make sure it doesn’t again,” you said. Donna carried over a kettle and poured more hot chocolate in your mug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Don't ask about fights Alan. It’s not our business. We should let them tell us what they want,” she said as she walked back to the kitchen.

“They probably should have had a big fight at least once to know if they can work through those things and it sounds like they have,” he said when he turned to you. “I know you’re probably love struck but marriage? That’s a lifetime of putting in the work.”

“Alan if I didn’t care about putting in the work I wouldn’t be down here right now. I know I don’t know everything I’m signing up for and no one really does but I know him and the kids and that’s worth the parts I have to work at.”

“You sound older than you look.”

“Age doesn’t always equal life experience,” you said.

“I suppose not,” he said. He stood and took a deep breath. “I do apologize for thinking the worst of you and not giving you a fair chance upfront.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m going to bring this up and check on him.”

“Can I ask one last thing?” asked his dad. You nodded and he looked over to Donna who gave him a short nod. “Josh said you really love him.”

“I do.”

“Do you think he loves you the same way?”

“I know he does,” you said.

“How are you so sure?”

“How are you so sure your wife loves you?” you said. “Goodnight Alan.”

“Goodnight,” he said, his mom catching up with you in the foyer where the stairs were. You gave her a tired smile and she nodded.

“If I told you something, would you keep it a secret from Jensen?” she asked.

“No,” you said with a smile. 

“I had to try,” she said. “We’re not like this by nature. Something happened he doesn’t know about when he was recovering that put us off to you. A woman. A young woman at his physical therapy.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly. She took a seat on a step and you sat beside her. “If someone tried to take advantage of him, you should have told me and him. He thinks you guys have gone nuts, no offense.”

“You’ll find with time you’d rather have your child safe and upset at you than the other way around,” she said. 

“What happened?”

“We moved down to the house for a few months to help Jensen. He went to physical therapy. A very good place. A family friend works there and got him in and he regained a lot of strength in his leg quickly because of it. There were nurses that often helped and he worked with a few regularly and they develop a relationship and all that. It’s good for morale and healing we were told. One of these girls was about your age and our family friend overheard her gossiping to a friend on the phone during a lunch break.”

“Gossiping about…” you said. “Jensen?”

“They saw an opportunity to manipulate him. He is smart, smarter than the both of us together, but he was going through the motions that first month. She made him smile a bit. She flirted with him. Our friend told us what she’d said and we realized, he could be hurt again. Taken advantage of for what he has, what he can offer. His sudden shift in mood this year, introducing you as a fiance, made us think we’d failed to protect him this time.”

“Why not tell him that?” you asked.

“And tell him he was being manipulated back then? He’s so adamant that it can’t happen to him but we know different.”

“I think you should tell him, Donna. It makes your reaction today seem not so…” you said, her head shaking.

“Ma,” you both heard. You looked over your shoulders, Jensen sat against the wall at the top of the landing. “Mom. Jerry told me why I got a new nurse when it happened. She was nice, or was pretending to be, I don’t know. But I didn’t like her. I never got manipulated and I was never going to.”

“How long-” you said, Jensen rubbing the back of his neck. “You heard everything.”

“Yup,” he said, popping his p, his dad coming over to the bottom of the stairs and staring up. “I don’t want to talk to either of you right now. Y/N, I’d like to go to bed, please.”

“Accept their apology Jensen. You can hash out the rest of this in the morning but accept that they know they were in the wrong,” you said. 

“Why should I?” he asked, cocking his head.

“We both got hurt out of their love for you. They are not monsters and I know the difference,” you said. “You know too.”

“Will you two ever look at me the same again,” said Jensen, staring at the landing. 

“Honey it was a fight. It’ll be alright,” said his mom, his head shaking.

“Ever since I woke up in the hospital, you two look at me like I’m a kid. Like I’m weak and defenseless. But I’m not. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been and this whole day could have been avoided if you treated me like your adult son, not the kid who fell off his bike and cries over a cut. I needed you two to take over, I did, I honestly did after the accident. I couldn’t take care of myself let alone the kids. But you haven’t stopped thinking I can take care of me again. I can. I do. I know I’m your kid but let me be an adult again. Trust me. Please.”

“Come here,” you said, holding out your hand. He slid down the steps and you stood up and aside, letting him get a hug from his mom and then dad. 

“We’re sorry,” said his dad.

“I know,” said Jensen quietly. “Never do something like that again. Ever.”

“We won’t,” he said. You leaned against the wall and sipped on the hot chocolate, Jensen’s nose twitching.

“That’s my cocoa,” he said, turning his head up at you.

“I just Jerry Springer’ed ya’ll. I get the cocoa. Get your own,” you said. He smiled and you gave it right back, his parents pulling off and bringing him to his feet. 

“Come here,” said his dad as his mom dragged him off towards the kitchen with the promise of hot chocolate. You stepped down until you were about his height and took a drink, licking your lips when you finished. “How do you just let that go? You were so angry before.”

“I’ve been to therapy. I have good diffusing skills,” you said. 

“Is that a joke?”

“Not really,” you said with a smile. “You made a mistake because you love him. I’m gonna make mistakes because I love him. So when I screw up, now you owe me one, deal?”

“I know it’s getting late but would you be willing to stay up a while longer, maybe find out that favorite color?” he asked. You smiled and nodded, stepping down.

“Depends on the day,” said Jensen, stepping out with a mug of his own.

“He’s right,” you said. “You okay to stay up a bit?”

He nodded and walked back to the family room, taking your hand. 

“Better?” you whispered to him.

“Yeah. Not all the way but definitely better honey.”

It was warm when you woke up the next morning. You peeled open an eye and caught Jensen laying awake, staring at his ceiling. You kicked off the blankets and he reached an arm out, pulling you to lay on his chest.

“It’s hot in here,” you mumbled, eyes shutting again.

“There’s a box covering the vent,” he said, dancing his fingers lazily over your bare arm. “It’s almost noon.”

“Seriously?” you said into his chest, nuzzling against his soft skin.

“Yeah. Sounds like they’re out back with the kids,” he said. You nodded and felt him move his fingers all over you, soft and light, absentmindedly tracing patterns every so often.

“Still upset?” you asked, his head nodding. “They’re human. They fuck up.”

“Are you angry?”

“I was. Not anymore. I kinda like ‘em actually.”

“Why would you give them a second chance?” he asked. 

“When I got adopted I didn’t like, instantly love my mom. I was scared of her at first. I don’t know, I get that you can not like someone at first and then love them unconditionally, you know? It’s weird but your opinions can change once you get to know someone.”

“I don’t do a very good job of protecting you from things,” he said, tilting his head, moving a few hairs behind your ear. You looked up at him, his fingers playing in your hair behind you. 

“Honey you went off on your parents last night. I bet you’ve never done that to them. You were trying to protect me and you did. No one has ever protected me the way you do,” you said. “Today is a new day and I’d like to get to know my new family some more.”

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll follow your lead.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 13 here!

[koolkat9]

Hetalia Poly Ship Week: Day 4

@hetalia-polyship-week

I’m so sorry this is a day late. Life got a bit hectic and I had a bit of trouble finding my footing with uni so...yeah...this also turned out pretty long. But here it is. This was actually so fun to write despite life being crappy these past two days. Forgive this little rant, onto the fic!

Prompt: Fairytale

Relationship: GerFruk (though it's not super romantic, more like meeting each other for the first time)

Word Count: 2022

Author’s Note: This takes place in a world where all traditional fairytales exist, but what happens when characters of those fairytales collide one fateful night?

Francis-> Rapunzel (Rapunzel)

Ludwig-> Cinderella (Cinderella)

Arthur-> Beauty and the Beast (Beast)

At Midnight

God his feet were killing him. One night. One night was all Ludwig had asked for and now he was running through the forest with only one boot and tattered clothing. But that’s what he got for trusting a pesky fairy and losing track of time. Eventually, he came upon a clearing and decided to stop for a moment and gain his bearings.

He hadn’t thought this through. First, he didn’t keep track of the time, second, he ran without even thinking as to where he was going to go, and of all places, he headed towards the forest. Now he was lost in the middle of the night, freezing cold, probably a long way from any form of help. At least it was far better than home.

Which brought up another question. If he did find someone or his way back to town, where would he go? Home? Could it even be called that when you weren’t even welcomed there, no one to love and worked to the bone by those who should? But what other place was there when you were penniless?

Just when Ludwig thought all hope was lost, he heard a faint voice coming from the trees in front of him. Without any other lead, he began making his way towards the sound, hoping that whoever it was could help him find his way out of here.

He was led to another clearing, but in the center of this one stood a tower overgrown by vines and other plant life. Ludwig would have assumed it was abandoned if not for the blond man at the top singing away. It was beautiful, He was beautiful with long blond hair that went way past his shoulders. As he went in for a closer look, he stepped on a twig, snapping it and bringing attention to himself. The man in the tower immediately stopped, cowering into the stone walls, but still peeking out to survey the situation. “Who’s there?” he asked, voice wavering slightly.

Ludwig made his way right under the window so the man could see him. “I apologize for starling you, but I seem to have gotten lost-”

“Mon Dieu, what happened to you?”

Ludwig looked down at his ripped garments, ruined by his step-siblings before looking back up. “A little family altercation. But that doesn’t matter now. Do you by chance know the way back to town?”

The man’s eyes went wide. “There is a town near here?” he asked, sticking his head out the window.

“Uh...yes...I-I take it that means you don’t know.”

The man was silent for a moment, not looking at Ludwig and instead, his gaze was cast straight ahead as if in thought. “Hello?” Ludwig called to get the man’s attention again.

“Oh… sorry. Yeah… No, I'm sorry I don’t.” He looked around before continuing, “But I can’t just leave you out here like this. Give me a moment mon cher.” There was a light thumping from above then a loud crash signaling the fall of something. To Ludwig’s relief, it was followed by a string of French curses which let him know the man above was okay. Said man returned to the window moments later, throwing a thick rope down, or at least what appeared to be a rope. When Ludwig took hold of the rope he realized it was actually hair, the man’s hair to be exact. Ludwig looked up, given the man a concerned look.

“Don’t worry. I’ve done this dozens of times, I’ll be fine.”

With a deep breath, Ludwig began his climb with the man helping him by pulling him up. Soon enough he was safely in the confines of the tower.

“Couldn’t I have just used the door?” Ludwig asked.

“Unfortunately the stairs are broken. Oh please, come sit, sit.” The man took hold of Ludwig’s wrist, guiding him towards a couch.

Ludwig quirked a brow at the man’s answer. If the stairs were broken how did he get down? He couldn’t use his own hair, could he?

“So what should I call you mon cher?”

“Ah...ah...Ludwig. And you?”

“Francis! It's nice to meet you.” The man, Francis, was quiet for a moment before adding, "So there really is a village nearby?”

“Yes. Why? Have you never been?”

Francis gave a sad smile. “I can’t say I have. I haven't even been out of the tower since I was little."

Ludwig was taken aback by this. After a few moments of trying to reach for something to say, he figured there was nothing he could. "I'm sorry to hear that," he stated instead. "Not that it is the exact same, but I wasn't exactly allowed outside much either."

Francis sighed "My mother is just protective. I wonder if she's aware of how close we are to town. Perhaps that would make her trips shorter. Then again it's nice to be rid of her for a few days."

"At least she loves you. Mine only keeps me around to do the housework, cooking, and use as a verbal punching bag."

“Oh, Ludwig.” Francis gave him a sympathetic look before surprisingly pulling him into a hug. It was nice. Ludwig couldn’t recall the last time he had a hug. It was probably right before his brother died and all this hell began. Hesitantly, he returned the action, wrapping his arms around the Frenchman’s waist.

He smelled like lavender and his embrace was so warm that Ludwig felt himself melting against him. For a moment the thought of just staying here crossed his mind. The hug and thought were cut short however by the sound of crashing below.

Francis and Ludwig pulled away, looking at each other before turning towards the trap door that was supposed to lead to the stairs and entrance. They silently agreed to ignore it, but when another bang was heard below, Ludwig decided he should at least try to see what it was. He quietly made his way over to the door before carefully throwing it open.

Below was dark and he could barely make out the large silhouette of some creature below. It grunted as if in pain, its shoulders shaking.

“Get me a candle,” Ludwig ordered. Francis stumbled off the couch they were sitting on before collecting a candle and match and lighting the wick.

When Ludwig brought the light down to get a better look at the creature he found golden fur wrapped in what appeared to be a cloak. The beast snapped its head towards them showing a wolf-like face with fangs protruding. Ludwig fell back out of shock and a bit of fear. He had read about such monstrous creatures in books when he was a child and how they came to eat naughty children in the dark of night. Despite this, he found himself peeking down once more when he heard it whimper, ignoring Francis’ whispers of concern and protest.

The beast looked up at him with pleading green eyes, ears pulled back in discomfort. Upon further inspection, the blond fur was mixed with the crimson of blood. Something in Ludwig’s heart twisted and he was unable to leave it there. He looked around for a way to get himself down. “Francis, you think I could lower me down?”

The blond gave him a horrified look. “What the hell are you thinking? I don’t know what’s down there, but judging by your reaction it can’t be good. Mother told me all about evil creatures-”

“You don’t have to come down, but I’m going.”

Though he grumbled some more protests, Francis lowered his hair down, giving Ludwig a rope to climb.

The lower level was damp and musty. Ludwig held onto the candle tightly as he approached the figure which had frozen up. “Hello?” Ludwig called only to receive a ferocious roar in return. He stiffened, but pushed on. “I don’t know if you can understand me, but I want to help you.”

The beast cowered away. It seemed more scared than anything. “Wait right here,” Ludwig said before returning below the trap door. “Francis, could you get me bandages or something to wrap up some wounds.” Francis disappeared from above, but shuffling could be heard.

“I’m coming down,” Francis announced, reappearing. “I’m not letting you face this alone mon ami.”

Before Ludwig could protest, Francis was jumping down and Ludwig had no choice but to catch him.

This earned a growl from the creature. Francis hid behind Ludwig at the sound. “All bark, no bite,” Ludwig whispered in assurance. “Do you have the bandages?”

Francis handed some clothes over. Not ideal, but they’d work. Cautiously, he approached the beast who was cowering into the corner he was in. “It's okay,” Ludwig murmured, “we just want to help you.”

When he got closer, he noticed where the blood was coming from, a nasty gash on the creature’s side. Crouching down to get a better view, Ludwig pushed a cloth against it. The beast snarled in pain, but relaxed ever so slightly as Ludwig began to wrap up the wound. Francis had also made his way over, petting the head of the creature in comfort.

“It's like a big puppy,” Francis laughed lightly, earning a growl from the beast. The Frenchman backed up, scared it would snap, but it didn’t. Still, Francis decided it was best to keep his distance.

Ludwig only shook his head before finishing up the wrapping. “There. That should be good for now,” he sighed, standing up once more.

“Thank you…”

Francis and Ludwig look towards each other and then at the beast.

“This is when you say you’re welcome,” the beast grumbled, sitting himself up.

“You can talk?” Francis breathed.

“Yes. How rude of you to assume otherwise.”

For something so big and scruffy, the creature spoke quite eloquently though sharply and his accent posh and proper.

Francis went to bite back, but Ludwig interrupted. “So...What’s your name? Mine’s Ludwig and this is Francis.”

“Arthur.”

They lapsed into a silence, Ludwig and Francis trying to make sense of it all and Arthur glaring at the two. Once he had regained his bearings, Arthur pulled himself up and began dragging himself towards the door. “Well, you’ve been quite hospitable, but I really should get going," he noted sarcastically.

“Wait,” Ludwig said, jumping to his feet, “you are in no shape to be up.”

“And what do you suggest I do? Wait down here in the mud and mold. No thank you.”

“You could always stay upstairs with me and Lud,” Francis suggested.

“And how do you suppose we get up there without stairs?” Arthur sneered.

“Good point.”

The three returned to silence, thinking of what to do next.

Arthur sighed. “Okay… Here’s an idea. My castle isn’t that far from here. If you are so concerned about me you can accompany me there and as payment for your help you can stay there for tonight.”

Francis' brows furrowed, a hesitant look crossing his face. “Francis, you don’t have to come," Ludwig said. "I’m sure I can manage on my own.”

“Non. I’ll come. I’ve been locked up here far too long. Plus...it's not like I can get back up anyway and my mother will...she’ll be...so mad if she finds everything like this.”

That statement worried Ludwig far more than it should have. He tried not to think about it or the fearful look in Francis’ eye. Instead, he turned his attention to Arthur. He helped steady the beast, wrapping his arm (paw? claw?) around his shoulder to support him. Francis followed suit on the other side. With that settled they took off into the night, following Arthur's directions

It was truly a strange night. What was supposed to be his night to relax and forget about his troubles turned into one of adventure... which came with new troubles. But as Ludwig walked through the forest with Arthur and Francis he couldn’t help but feel free, relieved, like his life was changing for the better. He shook his head, telling himself he was just tired and everything was strange which lead to this feeling. Right now what mattered was getting Arthur to that castle.

(I may continue this once I finish up with ‘In the Deep.’ Gosh, so many fic ideas, so little time)

[dreamsister81]

"This is a song called Grace...and one day I was cleaning up my room, and I was thinking that, uh, um, my usual obsession with death and dying, and there can be a point where you really don't care, because there's someone..."-intro at St. Ann's with Gods and Monsters, March 13, 1992

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"This is a song about...it's not about another dream, but it's about not feeling so bad about your own mortality when you have true love..."-intro at Sin-é, July 19/August 17, 1993

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"This is for anybody here tonight, who's ever been stepped on, who's ever been fucked with, but it doesn't matter, because somewhere, there's sombody who has the guts to really love you...no matter what you are, no matter what job you hold...this is called Grace..."-intro at the Black Cat, Washington, DC, August 13, 1994

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"Grace is an important quality. I wrote the song Grace when I had just found out that someone loved me, someone I wanted. Suddenly I was no longer afraid of death, of all the snares and confusion of my life. I've been very abused. By people around me. Especially in LA. I had so many spears in my heart of considerable weight that I carried around with me. And suddenly I looked down and realized that the spears were still there because I hadn't torn them out. And then I did. Nothing mattered anymore. Not the hands that had brought them there, not the heart that had accepted them. I think grace means so much. A grace, for example. 'God is good, we thank God for this food.' Blablabla. But you're also saying grace about a body or a parade. Grace means a lot in people. The ability to look ahead, to maintain warmth, to preserve the part that nourishes life. Or grace as in dancers. You need grace to dance. Besides, I love the name for a woman. Or a man. Yes, I would call my son Grace (joking). My children would love me forever."-Knust interview, September 13, 1994

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"It's about not fearing death or fearing any of those, you know, countless slings and arrows that you suffer sometimes on this earth because somebody loves you. You're not afraid to go, you're not adraid to withstand what you need to withstand because there's a tremendous fuel that you feel regenerating inside because of somebody else's love for you. That's what Grace is about. And just about...life, just about sometimes life being so long. At the time I was anticipating leaving Los Angeles for New York so I was waiting to go, and I'm not afraid to go, I'm not afraid to die, I'm not afraid to go away from this place or leave any place, but it just goes so slow you know? And I had somebody who loved me in New York. A lot. And it was amazing, still is. (In British accent) Love, lovely love."-interview at the Pacific Club in Antwerp, Belgium, September 21, 1994

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Regarding “Grace,” a song that is indicative of Buckley’s spiritual as well as artistic philosophy, Buckley states, “The song is about being released of the fear of being trod upon by people around you and suffering harm at the hands of others because of somebody loving you for real. You can achieve great heights of purity through somebody else’s love for you.”-Virtually Alternative Magazine no. 5, 1994

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Buckley considers "grace" to be, "the quality about people that matters. Any hardship, any pitfall, any sling or arrow in your direction that you're forced to withstand, any abuse, or any thought of even growing old, you need that quality...grace in men is especially appealing, women are very graceful, but men usually are not, and I like it when I see it in them. It also carries the meaning of having an implication, like the beginning of something or the death, saying grace."-Art+Performance, October 28, 1994

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What does grace mean to you?

Everything that the word carries. Grace is what matters in anything. Especially life, especially growth, tragedy, pain…love, death. About people. That’s what matters. That’s a quality I admire very greatly. It keeps you from reaching for the gun too quickly…it keeps you from destroying things too foolishly. And sort of keeps you alive. And it keeps you open for more understanding. You know, people say grace for dinner, 'God is great, God is good…’ eh, you know. But I see an invocation when I hear that word. And also, it’s like the sound of…

So saying the word grace, invokes a state of grace?

It could, yeah.

Say it now. Let’s see if we can...(laughs)

Hey, don’t make me say it. Don’t make me invoke a state of grace here on this room…(laughs)

But also, the song itself is just a eulogy to no one. About…I always describe it as not fearing anything, anyone, any man, any woman, any war, any gun, any sling or arrow aimed at your heart by other people because there is somebody finally who loves you, for real. And that you can achieve a real state of grace, through somebody else’s love in you, you know. And you’re totally out of fuel, and totally out of understanding…so I said it. It’s a song about my death, but not fearing it.-Much Music, October 28, 1994

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"For me, it's a quality about people that matters most. In the face of adversity, in dealing with others, in love, dealing with enemies, in dealing with death. It's something that transcends, that carries people. Also, I decided the word. But it also...it fit to me because the song is about not fearing death anymore, or even fearing torture on earth because there's finally somebody who loves you for real. And sometimes you can achieve grace through somebody else's belief in you. And grace just sort of...I don't know, if I was writing a death letter, I felt that that was a grace as well, you know, saying grace...or for the dead on earth, or for somebody who's just very broken down. And just a last act of defiance, but also a beautiful prayer. That's what it could be, so I named it Grace."-Japanese interview, November, 1994

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What does Grace mean to you?

It's not religious or mystical. It's very ordinary. That's the thing that makes people divine. That's a quality I appreciate in a person. Especially in a man because it is very rare."-L'indic, March/April, 1995

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"Grace is basically a death prayer. Not something of sorrow, but of just casting away any fear of death. No relief will come you really just have to stew in your life until it's time to go, but sometimes somebody else's faith in you can do wonders."-MTV Europe interview, 1995

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"I see many other colours of sacredness," he says. "And grace is a quality in people that I just enjoy. It's a very human quality."-Sydney Morning Herald: August 25, 1995

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Grace, the title he has given to his first record is “mostly just a quality about people that I enjoy." 

How does he recognize it?

“Ah… sort of... a transcendental soul in somebody's behaviour. Like a soul that's wise… Like somebody who doesn’t stoop to violence so quickly in the face of a problem, because they’re a little bit more potent of a soul. It’s rare,” he stresses.

Has he discovered many people with this quality?

"No!...that are purely like that? Everybody has it at one time or another, it's just like sadness, sometimes people have it, sometimes they don't, but it's something that I love, or, it's something that I need, desperately, because so much shit in your life can be so caustic, it's deadly, and you need to be steady in the way that you live, in order to have your thoughts together. Because basically, it's just fucking survival," he says, making one of his frequent cognitive leaps that leaves me half-baffled. "There's nothing else to it, so you have to be self sufficiently aware. And that's something you lose from time to time, but you have to get it back, otherwise you don't live very well. I think there's a graciousness about people, I especially like it in men, because it's totally rare."-Beat magazine, August 30, 1995

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Grace is the title of your album. What does it mean to you?

"Grace there meaning a prayer like a death prayer - not being afraid of it, sitting totally immersed in trouble and all those crappy slings and arrows that come to you in regular life, and then someone begins to love you for real, and instead of wishing for death, even thinking about it, it's not a factor at all. Death meaning relief."-Rip It Up, February 1996

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"Rise Up to Be" opened up with a cascade of notes like rain on a fretboard, then dove into a rugged melody with enough rocky crevices for a mountainside. Singing along, Jeff retitled it "Grace," inspired by the time he and Moore said their goodbyes at the airport on a rainy day. "The rain is falling and I believe my time has come/It reminds me of the pain I might leave behind," Jeff sang. With its images of a woman crying on his arm and of his contemplating mortality, the song equated love with pain, rebirth with death.-from Dream Brother

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The explanation of this Buckley lyric was just as ambiguous as that for "Mojo Pin". The most common read was that he was spelling out his sorrow at being briefly separated from Moore, but Buckley loved to mess with his audience-at various times he'd introduce "Grace" as "a song about my death, but not fearing it" and, during an early Gods and Monsters show, as "(my) usual obsession of death and dying". While playing at Sin-E he'd declare it to be "a song about not feeling so bad about your own mortality when you have true love". Buckley seemed to have even less of a clue of its true meaning at a Chicago show in 1995 when he went into the following rant before playing the song. "Shit's happening now," he said. "It's all about now, now, now. Bigger, faster, sweatier, whiter, blacker, gracer." Lucas wrote both songs as "inspirational messages" for himself and Buckley.-from A Pure Drop (of course, the context of the rant isn't mentioned, and imo the "gracer" is merely a segue 😑🙄🙈)

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch47: The Terrible Twos Part 2: Fuck off, Clown.

 Intro: In the fourth year since the snap, Jamie enters the terrible twos.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N:  So this chapter is kind of a little different to the others here really, as it’s almost like a collection of long drabbles detailing their life over 2022. And just a little reminded, Phobias, Steve admits to Katie he has a fear of clowns…keep that in mind! @angrybirdcr​ really did outdo herself with these edits too...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 48 Part 1

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 September 2022

“Mom.” Emmy’s voice was soft and Katie instantly looked up from her laptop. “Where’s Dad?” “He’s gone for a run, well as much of a run as he can with Jamie hanging off his back.”  Katie said, frowning slightly as she saw her fifteen year old daughter wasn’t dressed for school. “Is everything ok? I can call him.” “No, it’s fine. It’s you I wanted to talk to.” Emmy hovered from one foot to the other. “I err…”

She looked down at her feet, a huge flush on her face. Katie closed her laptop and stood up. “Em, what’s wrong?” “I think I, well, no I know I err… I started my period and…” “Oh, Sweetie.” Katie chuckled slightly as she wrapped the girl into a hug. “You feeling okay?”

“Erm, I got cramps and I’m really tired.” Emmy mumbled, her cheek pressed against Katie’s shoulder “And, I err, I got some on the sheets.”

Katie smoothed back Emmy’s hair and shrugged “It’s no big deal. I’ll get you some painkillers and why don’t you go have a bath, I’ll sort your bed and then we’ll sit and watch shit on TV all day. I can stay home.”

Emmy nodded eagerly, and peered up at her mom. “Snacks?”

“Dur.”

“Thanks Mom.” Emmy hugged her tight.

“It’s okay, I know how it feels. And, just for the record, beinga woman sucks at times but other times it’s kinda cool.”

“Cool?” Emmy frowned, stepping back a little.

“Yeah, you get boobs.” Katie gestured to her chest “They tend to fascinate most men.”

Katie followed her daughter upstairs where Emmy retreated into the bathroom, whilst Katie found her some pads before she stripped the sheets down and headed to the utility room at the side of the kitchen that held their washing machines and dryer. She was just turning the machine on when the door opened and Steve stepped in, Jamie on his back, giggling away. Steve’s face was red from the brisk November air and the part of Jamie’s cheeks which were visible from beneath his hat and above his scarf were also tinged pink a little.

“Laugh it up, Pal.”  Steve shook his head, as he bent down so Jamie could slide off his back “That’s the last time I’m taking you.” “You said that yesterday, and the day before.” Katie smirked, taking the kiss Steve offered, ignoring Jamie’s noise of disgust. “You love it.”

“Hmmm.” Steve made a non-committal noise in his throat. “Any breakfast going or shall I start some?” “Go get a shower and I’ll make it. We can eat together when Emmy’s out of the bath.”

Steve frowned “Shouldn’t she be on the bus?”

“She’s not feeling too good.” Katie shook her head. “I told her I’d stay home with her, today.”

Steve’s frown deepened as he shrugged off his running jacket. “What’s wrong with her? She sick?” “It’s nothing a day in front of the TV, a heat pad and a blanket can’t fix.” Katie gave him a significant look. As ever it took him a while to cotton on, but when he realised what she was saying, Katie really had to bite back the laugh as his face rearranged itself into a look of surprise, which flickered to pure dumbfoundedness as he struggled for a reply.

“Don’t worry, I got it.” She grinned, patting his chest.

“Momma?” A voice came from the kitchen and Katie turned to face Jamie who was stood by the fridge “I’m hungry.” “Yeah, I’m gonna start breakfast now, baby.” she smiled, “Eggs and toast ok?” “Nomm!” He grinned as he padded over to the table and pulled himself up into a seat. Steve had to give a snort, without his seat he could barely see over the top of the table. He made his way over, lifted Jamie easily with one hand causing the boy to cackle before he replaced him back on the booster and scooted him closer.

“That better?” He asked, dropping a kiss to his son’s head.

“Fankoo, daddy.” he grinned.

“You’re welcome, Buddy.” Steve said straightening up. He turned to Katie “I’m gonna go shower then I’ll come help.”

Katie waved him away with a smile. He took the stairs two at a time and headed into their bedroom. If he was honest he’d been shitting himself about this day for ages. He’d watched Emmy grow up way too fast for his liking over the past few years and now, well he didn’t even want to think about the whole turning into a woman thing. All he knew was he was thankful for Katie’s level head.

He showered quickly, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a red plaid button down ready for his meetings that day and headed onto the landing, just as Emmy was emerging from the larger bathroom wrapped in a robe.

“Hey, Sweetie. Your Ma said you’re not feeling too good.”

She shrugged, “Not really.” “Will a hug help?” He asked and she smiled, nodding. He opened his arms and she stepped into them as he gave her a soft but firm snuggle.

“Thanks, dad.” she said softly.

“Any time, baby.” he dropped a kiss to her head. “Now I’d go get dressed if I were you, before your brother eats all the breakfast.”

*****

When Steve came back that evening, his girls were pretty much in the same spot they had been in all day. When he asked if they’d moved at all, Katie grinned and pointed out that they were both in clean sets of Pyjamas and Jamie was in bed, so of course they had moved, and that they were getting take-out for Dinner because she couldn’t be bothered to cook and it was Friday after all. With a good natured roll of his eyes, Steve cast one final look at them over his shoulder before he headed upstairs to change, leaving them to watch Love Actually. It was nowhere near Christmas, but he knew what they were like when it came to their soppy films, so he left them to it.

When he came back downstairs they were deep in conversation, so he paused for a moment at the door. He didn’t mean to listen in, but he didn’t want to interrupt. And if he was honest, there was something so pure and innocent about their chat that he simply couldn’t help it.

“You know, I still never forgave Adam Rickman for breaking Emma Thompson’s heart.” Katie sighed as Emmy scoffed.

“Has Dad ever bought you a really crappy gift?” she asked.

“No.” Katie replied. “He’s very thoughtful. Although the best gift he gave me wasn’t one he bought anyway.” “Your emerald?” Emmy asked, and Katie made a noise of affirmation. They fell silent for a moment before Emmy spoke again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Course.”

“If anything happened to Dad, do you think you’d ever like date again?”

Steve frowned slightly as he heard Katie exhale “That’s deep Em. I dunno. I don’t think I’d ever be able to love another man the way I love Steve. In fact I know I wouldn’t. What on Earth made you ask that?” “Oh, Brooke is trying to get Jen dating but she keeps saying she loves Brooke’s dad too much and I kinda think it’s sad as he’s been dead for years. ” “Yeah, well, the thing is Em when you’re in love, and I mean truly in love, it consumes you. That person becomes as much a part of your life as you are and to lose them like that…well I can’t imagine what a hole that would leave in their place.”

“Yeah, suppose.” “You’ll figure that out soon enough.” Katie chuckled.

“Was Dad your first love?”

“He’s been the only man I’ve ever truly been in love with, yes.” Katie replied “For most people a first love and a true love are very different things.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, for instance my first love was a guy called Mikey, he was my first boyfriend. I wasn’t much older than you, dated him for about twelve months.” Katie mused. “He was the first guy I ever slept with. Then there was Grant and we don’t talk about him, ever as he was an asshole.”

Emmy gave a snort

“But your dad, well, he was different. We cared so much about each other before we even started dating. I mean, if I’m honest, I loved him way before he even asked me out.” “Who made the first move?” “He did.” Katie smirked and at that point Steve gave a scoff and walked into the room.

“Liar.” “Oh you so did!” Katie looked at him, unabashed he’d been listening. “You kissed me after Rumlow’s party. You’d have kissed me before that as well if you hadn’t been such a chicken shit.” Steve rolled his eyes and flopped onto the seat at the opposite side of the coffee table. “You didn’t exactly push me away.” “Dur.” It was Katie’s time to roll her eyes as Emmy snorted “I’d been waiting for you to make a move for months.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at her as the teenager quipped. “You were still a bit slow on the uptake back then I see.” “Err, less of your cheek young lady.” He shot back and she giggled.

“You know the first time we had sex he literally ripped my pants off.” Katie grinned at Steve and he pulled a face as Emmy cackled.

“Jesus, Doll.” He flushed bright red.

“Wasn’t the only time either.” “Okay,” Steve stood up with a sigh, shaking his head, as Emmy cackled. He wasn’t particularly keen on discussing his sex life with his fifteen year old kid. “I’m gonna get the Thai Menu.”

Katie watched him go before she winked at Emmy and stood up, following him into the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled into his shoulder. “I love how after all this time I can still make you blush.” “You’re a damned nightmare.” He chuckled as his hands rest on top of hers, using them to pull her closer as he turned to face her.

“But you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.” He smiled, dropping a kiss to her lips.

****

Steve didn’t quite rip Katie’s pants off that night, but it was still passionate enough to send them both into an orgasm induced sleep almost straight away. But Steve was a light sleeper, not as light as he had been once-upon-a-time, as sleeping besides his wife gave him a sense of peace. That said, his super-soldier hearing always woke him should something be out of place, so when he was pulled from his slumber it took him a while to realise that the soft voices he could hear downstairs was the TV. Knowing it could only be one person, he swung his legs out of bed and pulled on a sweater before he padded down the stairs.

“Emmy?” He asked gently as he opened the door to the living room. The teenager looked up from where she was sat, knees tucked up besides her.

“Couldn’t sleep.” She shrugged and his sharp eyes didn’t miss the movement her hand made over her tummy. “And lying in bed was doing my head in.”

“Did you take anything?” Steve asked and she looked at him. “For the pain?”

“Oh,” she flushed slightly, “yeah, but it hasn’t worked yet.”

Steve nodded and headed into the kitchen, putting on the kettle. He made the pair of them a hot drink, stuck another heat-pack in the microwave and then paused as he passed the cupboard where he kept his secret stash.

Well, if this wasn’t an occasion it was called for then what was?

Emmy looked up as he walked back into the lounge. He placed the peppermint tea down on the table in front of her, before he passed her the heat pack and then wordlessly produced the Dairy Milk bar from his sweatpants pocket.

“You’re giving me your chocolate?” Emmy looked at him.

“Don’t tell your brother.” Steve said as he sat next to her, flopping his feet up on the coffee table.

She grinned and unwrapped the bar, offering him a piece which he took and shoved in his mouth.

“You’re pretty clued up on all this given you’re like a hundred and five.” She grinned cheekily

“Yeah well, I’ve been with your ma for ten years so I picked up a few tips.” He shrugged. She took a sip of her drink, rearranged her blanket and then picked up his arm so she could snuggle into him. He gently ran his hand over the back of her head as she got comfortable.

“What we watching?” He asked.

“Bad Boys.”

Steve chuckled. “I like this one. That is if I’m not too old to keep you company for a while?” “Nah.” She grinned as she placed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re good.” Katie found the pair of them flat out on the sofa the next morning, Emmy’s head propped up on a pillow as she snuggled up against Steve, her back pressed to his chest as the solider was stretched out down the sofa behind her, arms around his daughter as they slept.

****

October 2022

“All set?” Katie asked as she reached the bottom of the stairs as Steve walked back into the hall having loaded their bags into the car. They were heading off to Tony’s lake-house for a few days where he was throwing a bit of a Halloween party, nothing major but it was a chance for the kids to get dressed up in costumes and eat a load of candy whilst the adults could kick back and drink. Katie was looking forward to it for two reasons. Firstly, it was always nice to gather together with friends and family, well those of them that were left post snap-it made her feel normal, and she could push that persistent feeling of sadness that seemed to manifest on a daily basis, back down into the depth of her mind. And secondly, she was a little excited because she had no idea what Emmy or Jamie’s outfits were going to be.

Emmy had asked a month or so ago if she could be in charge of getting the pair of them costumes and Katie had agreed, simply handing over her card when she wanted to order whatever it was off the internet. She’d even resisted the urge to check her statement to see what it was, as Emmy had demanded she didn’t try and find out. Katie had a sneaking suspicion that Tony had also been involved in these costume choices, as the last time her brother had been over a few weeks ago, the pair of them had been huddled on the large arm chair, sniggering as they looked at something on Tony’s phone. With that in mind she was expecting Jamie to come down in some form of Iron Man or Captain America costume and she had every intention of filming Steve’s response.

“Yup. Locked and loaded.” Steve nodded, dropping a kiss to her cheek.”As soon as the kids are ready we can go.”

“No rush.” Katie shrugged, looking at her watch as they walked into the kitchen. “We don’t need to be there for a few hours.” She wrinkled her nose and slapped at Steve’s hand as he went to peek under the foil wrapped plate on the side. He sharply withdrew it and grinned at her.

“Tell me that’s a pie.”

“Apple and pumpkin, but it’s for the party.”

Steve pouted and she laughed and jerked her head behind her. “There’s another there as I knew you wouldn’t be able to wait.”

“You-” Steve pecked her lips “-are” another peck “-the best.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Captain.” She smirked as his lips hovered over hers and he deepened the kiss slightly, both his hands sliding down to give her ass a playful squeeze before he stepped back and walked over to his coveted prize. Steve peeled back the little cloth that was over the top and gave a little groan that was positively sinful as he inhaled the smell.

“Don’t eat that straight out of the pie dish,” Katie warned him as he made his way to the freezer for the ice cream, “I was gonna cut a few slices for the kids to munch on the way.”

“Then they can get their own.” Steve grumbled a little, but he grabbed a plate none the less.

“Oh yeah, where from?” Katie asked, her hands on her hips.

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Steve muttered as he cut himself a huge slice of the coveted pie. He ladled a generous amount of vanilla ice cream on top then carried it over to the breakfast bar, sitting down as Katie gathered the rest of the food items she had said she would bring which included a huge dish of Mac and Cheese that she’d coloured green with food colouring, spaghetti and meatballs that were supposed to be worms,  cinnamon and apple cookies in the shape of pumpkins and a batch of home-made raspberry and cherry gin which had been done using the raspberries and cherries from the brambles and trees in their small orchard at the bottom of the garden. She began packing it all into a hamper as Steve took the first bit of his pie and gave another groan.

“You know,” he swallowed, waving his fork at her as he gave her a playful grin, “I think this pie is actually better than sex.”

Katie looked at him, arching her eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“It’s a very close call.” He nodded.

“Well maybe I should make you a pie once a week instead of letting you get me on my back.” Katie looked at him, closing the lid on the basket and pushing it to one side, leaning over the breakfast bar.

“Okay, first off we have sex way more than once a week,” Steve pointed his fork at her, “and second-“ his eyes glinted cheekily “-you’re not always on your back.”

“True.” Katie pursed her lips and reached for his fork, snatching it from his hand, “but if you think I’m baking a pie more than once a week you’ve got another thing coming.” She used the fork to take a piece of the sweet treat along with a large blob of ice cream and shoved it in her mouth, closing her eyes. She moaned a little, ensuring that the noise that left her throat was as sinful as she could make it, before she opened her eyes and used her thumb to wipe at a little trickle of ice cream in the corner of her mouth. With her eyes locked on Steve she sucked her thumb clean and smirked a little at the familiar glint of dark in his eyes that he always got when he was turned on.

“You’re lucky you’re the other side of the breakfast bar.” He leaned forward a little, elbows resting on the marble surface, his voice a low timbre that sent those familiar sparks up Katie’s spine.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Katie asked innocently, ignoring the sudden flutter she’d felt between her legs at his tone.

“Because if you weren’t you be in my lap right now testing my theory.”

“Shame.” She nodded, looking around. “I mean it’s not like you could reach and drag me over it or anything.”

“Well I could,”  Steve agreed, “but there’s a piece of pie in the way. And it’s too good to waste.”

“You’re a jerk!” Katie shook her head as Steve laughed, before he leaned back in the stool and patted his right thigh.

“C’mere pretty girl.”

Katie grinned, the sound of him calling her pretty girl always did things to her, as did the soft instruction to ‘come here’ in his Brooklyn accent. She rounded the bar and he reached out, easily pulling her onto his lap so she was perched sideways, legs hanging over the side of his right thigh as he curled his left arm around her waist, right gently resting on her thigh. Katie’s right arm slid round his neck and he titled his face to look at her.

“Just for the record you taste far better than any pie you make.” He grinned and Katie’s mouth fell open at his dirty comment.

“Steven Grant Rogers!” She snorted, slapping his shoulder slightly and he laughed, his hand on her thigh tightening its grip slightly, fingers curling round the toned muscles which were evident once more due to Katie having started training again. Steve actually kind of missed the softness that she’d had since having Jamie but he was damned if he was going to tell her that. He leaned towards her slightly, his nose bumping hers a little as she gently trailed her hand over the nape of his neck, nails scratching just below his hair line above the collar of his black sweater.

“Love you.” He muttered gently, his lips brushing hers and she smiled, her fingers tanging in the hair at the back of his head.

“More than apple pie?”

“Infinitely Mrs Rogers.”

“More than Mac and Cheese?”

Steve hesitated and Katie scoffed.

“For the record I love you more than anything.” Steve chuckled, pressing his lips to hers. “Well, apart from the kids.”

“I’ll accept that exception.” Katie chuckled, her mouth finding his again. The kiss deepened, Katie letting out a soft sigh as his tongue brushed against hers, tasting the apple pie and Ice Cream he had been eating before. Steve’s hand skated up the outside of her thigh coming to rest on her hip, finger tips brushing the strip of skin where her top had ridden up slightly as her own hand fisted slightly in his hair. Completely lost in one another they almost missed the little footsteps coming down the stairs and the giggles in the hallway.

Almost.

Steve pulled back, looking at Katie who grinned. “Play your cards right we can finish this later.”

“At Tony’s?”

“Won’t be the first time we fucked in his spare room.”

Steve snorted at her and patted her ass as she hopped off his lap.

“Mom, Dad!” Emmy called. “We’re ready!”

“We heard!” Katie called back as Steve stood up, grabbing his plate of pie. He took another bite before he wandered into the hallway where he collided with Katie who had stopped dead just outside the door. Frowning he looked up and felt his heart jump.

A clown.

His 2 year old son was dressed as a fucking clown.

And not just any clown, which would have been bad enough, but that bastard clown from IT. The film he refused time and time again to watch because of said bastard clown, which was now stood on the bottom step of the stairs holding a red balloon.

And suddenly, all he could see was that damned clown at Coney Island chasing him through the stalls, Bucky’s laughter echoing in his ears, and then that fucking mirror maze where he’d had the panic attack as he was surrounded by them.

The plate holding his precious pie slipped from his hand and dropped to the tiled floor, where it broke into 3 pieces, its contents splattering all over the grey slate.

“Woah, Dad, didn’t think it would be that scary!” Emmy grinned from behind Jamie as she stood in her outfit, which was a superb replica of the Wicked Witch of the West complete with full green face-paint and a broomstick.

Katie looked over her shoulder at Steve and she could see from his face that he was really struggling to keep it together. Trying not to laugh at the expression of sheer horror on his handsome features, she clamped her lips together and turned to Emmy.

“Your dad’s…” she took a deep breath, trying not to laugh “He’s scared of clowns.”

“Oh…” Emmy frowned “Uncle Tony said he would love it.”

“I bet he did.” Steve bit out a little harshly and Emmy looked at him.

“Are you mad?” She asked and seeing the look on her face Steve inwardly cursed his phobia and his damned brother in law.

“No, honey,” he shook his head, “not at all…you both look…” he trailed off.

“Daddy, look!” Jamie grinned, and he jumped off the bottom step. “Balloon!”

He toddled over towards Steve who automatically took a few steps back and Jamie stopped in front of him, right by Katie’s side, a confused expression crossing his painted face. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, pal…I gotta…” Steve exhaled “I gotta put some stuff in the car so we can to go to Uncle Nee’s okay?”

“Kay…” Jamie said a little quietly.

Katie watched, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter as Steve went to move round Jamie, turning sideways so he could keep his eyes on him, before he pushed past Emmy and bolted up the stairs taking them three at a time.

The hallway was silent bar the sounds Lucky was making as he cleaned up the remnants of the pie on the floor, not wanting to miss a single crumb of his human food treasure.

“Em, why don’t you two take Lucky and go get in the car, we’ll be out in a little moment.” Katie smiled at her.

“Okay. Come on Jay!” Em grabbed his hand but Jamie, clearly now finding the reaction his dad had amusing, turned to his mom and made a little growling noise at her. Katie gave a fake scream and jolted back, causing Jamie to cackle a little, tilting his head back in mirth before allowed Emmy to lead him away.

As soon as they were out of sight and earshot Katie started to laugh. She laughed so hard that she had to retreat to the kitchen to sit at a chair. She doubled over, clutching at her stomach, trying to gather her breath as the tears poured down her face. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the image of Steve fighting the urge to punt his own son into another room out of her head.

Eventually she managed to sort herself out enough to grab her phone and swiped over to the number she wanted.

“Hey, Kiddo.”  Tony greeted

“Tony, you…” she started to laugh again “You better be able to run fast because Steve…he’s…”

Tony chuckled. “He liked the costume then?”

“Tony he freaked, like, seriously. Poor Steve. I expected some form of full Captain America outfit, not that!”

“Well, on this occasion the Spangles just weren’t enough”

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“It’s been said.” He conceded. “Did you get it on video?”

“No.” Katie sighed “I was going to but when I saw Pennywise on my damned stairs I knew what was gonna happen so…”

“Shame.We could have played that back later. For science.”

At that point Katie looked up as Steve walked into the kitchen, glancing round.

“He’s not in here…” She chuckled and Steve glared at her, before he gestured to the phone.

“That Tony?”

She nodded.

He reached out and snatched the phone off her. “You’re a dead man,” he growled down the handset, and Katie could hear her brother’s roar of laughter before Steve hung up and tossed the phone down onto the table.

“Calm down!” Katie laughed, standing up. “Steve, it’s just a costume.”

“Katie, they freak me the hell out!” he shook his head “You don’t…” his hands dropped to his hips and his head dropped. “Did you see his face when I backed away?”

“Oh, he’s fine!” Katie rubbed Steve’s arms. “He couldn’t care less.” Steve took a deep breath and she looked at him. “Do you want me to get him to change?”

Steve shook his head “No, he was so pleased with himself…plus, I don’t fancy that particular tantrum now do you?”

“Not really no.”

Steve shrugged “Then I guess I’m stuck with it. Come on, let’s get gone. Sooner we get there the sooner I can carry out my threat to kill your asshole brother.”

Steve grabbed the food hamper and headed out to the car with it, settling it onto the trunk of the car as Katie got into the passenger side. Once Steve finished his usual checks to ensure the door was locked, he climbed into the driver’s seat ant they set off.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah buddy?” Steve asked, glancing in the mirror automatically and once more was confronted by that fucking clown. He swallowed and turned his eyes to the front.

“No scared, daddy. I not a real clown.”

Katie chuckled as Steve pulled out of the drive onto the road. “I know pal, but it’s Halloween. Everyone gets scared at some point.”

Jamie nodded, accepting his answer and turned to look out of the window. As they approached a junction, Steve checked the mirror again and then sighed, shaking his head.

“You’re gonna hafta drive.” He looked at Katie.

“What?”

“I can’t do it.” He shrugged “Every time I check the mirror, all I can see is…”

“Are you being serious?” Katie looked at him.

“Absolutely.” Steve unclipped the seatbelt and climbed out of the car.

And right then Katie vowed that if Steve didn’t kill Tony, she was gonna.

****

December 2022

“Did he go down alright?”

Steve dropped onto the couch, picking up one of the super strength beers Thor had send him as part of a pre- Christmas testing package, lifting his arm up so Katie could settle into him.

“Very well, actually,” he narrowed his eyes taking a pull of his beer, “almost suspiciously so.”

Katie chuckled as she replaced her glass and dropped her head to Steve’s shoulder as she pressed play on the remote. The two of them simply stayed like that, the odd movement and hands stroking shoulders, thighs or knees as usual, comfortable in their own little world, the light of the fire and twinkling of the Christmas lights giving the room a cosy, comfy ambience. They were about thirty minutes into the film when, Katie felt Steve’s head move off the top of hers and she glanced at him and saw the beginnings of a smile forming on his face.

“What?”

He looked down at her. “You know,” he said, a light in his eyes that she knew all too well, “It’s Friday, Emmy’s out, Jamie’s in bed…” Steve trailed off and raised an eyebrow at his wife. She grinned too, mirroring his expression.

“I like where this is going,” she smirked and within seconds, her legs had been pulled from underneath her drawing a giggle from her lips as she lay flat on the sofa, Steve hovering over her. Katie wrapped her arms around his neck as their lips met, and she was just beginning to thread her fingers through his hair when they both heard a shout.

“Heeeeeyyyyy!”

Steve dropped his head and groaned. “I’ll go.”

He placed one last kiss on her lips before he stood up off the couch and headed into the hall way.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” he said as he headed up the stairs, seeing Jamie stood in his doorway at the baby gate.

“No sleep.” Jamie’s response was a whine.

“Not an option pal” Steve shook his head, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You know Santa won’t come if you don’t.”

“Can’t sleep.” Jamie tried again, and Steve had to bite back the smile that was about to cross his face. His son had certainly inherited his, and his wife’s for that matter, tenacity.

“Did you even try?”

There was a pause and Jamie furiously nodded his head in a blatant lie.

“Sure you did.” Steve rolled his eyes “Well what do you think would help you sleep?”

“Story, daddy!”

At those words a smile spread across Steve’s face. Over the last six months, Jamie had taken a real interest in the tales he told him, so much so that they had swapped night time readings of chapters from books for Steve’s real life stories, most of them being pulled straight from the streets of Brooklyn or Manhattan during Steve’s own childhood or adulthood pre-serum. 

“One more.” Steve caved and Jamie shrieked with delight. “But!” he continued in a warning tone, “You have to be quiet.”

Jamie stilled immediately and clapped his little hands over his mouth before he turned and ran, diving back on his bed. Steve chuckled and made his into Jamie’s room, as the two year old climbed under his Iron Man Duvet cover (Thank you Tony for that one…) and peered up at Steve as he settled down next to him, his son setting under his arm, snuggling into the crook of his arm against his chest.

“Did I ever tell you about the time that I went to the theatre-”

Katie didn’t wait for Steve to come back down, she knew full well that he would have been coerced into one more story. Their son had his dad wrapped around his little finger, and Steve at times found it simply impossible to say no. She glanced up at the clock, noting that it was almost nine… they could watch the film in bed. She turned the TV and tree lights off, she took the empty glass and bottle into the kitchen, let Lucky out for a pee whilst she made sure all the doors were locked before letting the now slightly older and slower dog back in.

“You staying here tonight, Luck?” She asked, and the dog yawned, stretching as he rolled onto his back in the dog basket which was placed in the hallway under the stairs. “Take that as a yes then.” She scratched behind his ears before standing up and creeping up the stairs to the door of her son’s room, which was open enough for her to peek through.

She loved Steve’s stories almost as much as Jamie did, if not for the same reasons. Jamie loved their action and adventure, often joining in with his own loud whoops and laughs, but Katie simply loved listening to Steve’s voice as he narrated. His tone would change from low and dramatic to loud and comical, and Katie found it simply adorable. A pure, unadulterated moment of love between father and son that made her heart swell every single time she watched or overheard.

“And then, all of a sudden this man appeared, in the alley way. And I didn’t have anything to protect myself with. So I picked up a trash can lid, and held it right here, like a shield.” Steve drew his arm across his chest. “Like Cap?” Jamie said, thrusting his Captain America bear at his dad.

“Just like Cap, yeah, Buddy.” Katie smiled to herself, Jamie was still too young to really understand about their history with the Avengers. He knew about who the Avengers were, well what he could grasp being so young, thanks mainly to Tony and Natasha, but he had no idea about his dad’s alter ego. And for now, it wasn’t important, they were just a normal family and long may it stay like that.

Katie watched as Steve continued to talk as he sat up on Jamie’s bed, his back against the headboard as his mini-me, led besides him, looking up at his father, eyes wide and full of adoration. These were the moments that brought out all of Steve’s best characteristics, and Katie simply loved him all the more for it. Smiling to herself she headed into their bedroom and tossed her clothes aside before she stepped into the shower in their en-suite.

Steve could read his son’s body language like a book, and about ten minutes after his super hearing heard Katie leaving where she had been stood outside the room listening, he could feel the little boy starting to droop slightly, one small hand fisted into Steve’s white t-shirt, the other was in front of his small face, thumb in his mouth as his index finger gently rubbed against that Stark nose. A few moments later he glanced down and in the dim glow of the dinosaur night light, he saw his son was fast asleep. Gently, he moved and stepped off the bed, tucking the duvet up under Jamie’s chin before he stooped, dropping a kiss onto his head, his hand gently caressing the shock of blonde hair. With a last look back he closed the door to, leaving it open just a chink, and headed into their room.

Katie was just emerging from the en-suite wearing a bathrobe, long hair piled up on her head.

“He has you wrapped around his finger.” She grinned, sliding her hands up her husband’s chest.

“Oh, and you don’t?” He muttered, hands connecting at the bottom of her spine.

“You gonna read me a bed time story then, Captain?”

“I got a better way of getting you to sleep.” He murmured, dropping his lips to hers, and she grinned as he backed her towards the bed. “There’s only one problem.” “Oh yeah?” She asked, as his arms pulled her closer, his lips trailed down her neck, mopping up the speckles of water from the shower that remained.

“Yeah, this is in the way.”

He softly kissed at that spot beneath her ear, his hand dropping to the belt of her robe. She grinned as he pulled at the tie and gently shrugged the robe off Katie’s shoulders, allowing it to drop to the floor as his lips claimed hers again. He wrapped an arm round her back, tugging her onto her toes so he could take a nipple in his mouth and she let out a groan as she looked downwards, moving her hands to undo the chords on his sweat pants.

“Off.” She muttered, pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt. He released her temporarily so she could slide it up, before he pivoted and dropped them both onto the bed, trapping her in between his hands and legs.

A familiar warmth exploded along her lower abdomen as he kissed her, one hand on the side of her face, the other sliding to her hip and across her stomach, making its way slowly between her legs. She arched her back and groaned as he slipped two fingers inside her, feeling him smirk against her neck.

“Fucking drenched aren’t you, Sweetheart?”

She let out another groan at his words. “Only for you.” A low growl rolled in the back of his throat as he slammed his mouth onto hers, shucking off his sweats as he began to kiss her chest, then stomach, before going down her legs.  He set his mouth to her, lapping at her, her sweet, salty tang, so familiar yet so delectable, and as he worked her, it was all she could do to mewl softly, and grip one hand in his hair as she writhed at his touch. His tongue flicked strongly and he sucked at her clit gently, before upping the pace as she whimpered, trying so hard to keep her noise down. Steve continued to tease and nibble and when he took her swollen clit between his lips again Katie let out a silent scream as her orgasm hit her hard, causing her knees to turn inwards, squeezing around his head, involuntarily. She fell back against the pillows with a sigh of satisfaction and looked down as Steve crawled back up her body, leaning forward, placing his hands on either side of her head.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” He whispered, making her grin before he crashed his lips onto hers, the sudden action drawing a small grunt from her mouth. She reached down taking him in her hand and he took in a sharp breath as he pulled away from her mouth, sliding his fingers down her legs. He moved her legs apart and pushed into her, a low sigh of satisfaction leaving both their lips before he began to move, burying his face into her neck, nipping at the spot under her ear gently. She keened underneath him as he grew more urgent with his thrusts, her eyes locking onto his as he gripped her hands at either side of her head, leaning back down to kiss her fervently. He was hard, fast, desperate for hris release and she met each of his thrusts fervently with her own hips happy to give herself to him. 

“So good,” He praised in a low voice, dragging his face against her hair before he looked at her. “I’m close, tell me you are…”

Katie responded with a moan, “Stevie.” and then her legs shook and she came again, closing her eyes as she tightened around him, burying her face into his neck to stifle her noises as the spasms came involuntarily around him again and again.

“Oh, fuck, Doll.” he stuttered, biting his lower lip as his eyes fluttered closed before his rhythm stilled and he let out a soft groan as he came, the utter bliss consuming him fully. He fell forward, head dropping into the hollow of his wife’s neck to catch his breath, his body slumped on top of hers, his familiar weight pressed her into the mattress as they both came down from their high. Katie ran her fingers through his hair, pressing soft kisses along his shoulder as her nails gently scratched at his scalp, causing Steve to hum out a soft sigh of contentment as he lay still, enjoying her touch.

“Stevie?” she muttered.

“Yeah?” “How long do you think we have before Jamie realises he can climb the baby gates now?”

“I’m amazed he hasn’t already.” Steve leaned up on his elbows to look down at his wife “Why?”

“Because I think we might need to invest in a lock for our door.” she grinned “For when you’re reading your baby momma her bedtime story.”

*****

Chapter 49

 **Original Posting 1 2 3**

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Love, War, and Books by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 2/3

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly

Chapter 2: Poetry and Mean Spiritedness

Emma stood in the middle of a near empty store, she sighed, stringing up the lights around the small tree in the corner of the reading area. She gazed around at the few children and their parents looking around at the books before leaving without spending a dime. Jones Books had opened at the beginning of the week and sadly had affected the customer turnout for the week.

While it was upsetting, Emma was trying to stay positive, determined that business would pick up once the shine of the new bookstore wore off and the children begged their parents to return to the store that spent time and effort to bring the stories to life that they had known and loved.

“This bloody sucks!” Will complained as he closed the register for the evening.

“We’ll be out of business before the end of the month at this rate.” Ruby whispered in his direction.

“No one is going out of business.” Emma assured, patting Ruby on the back. “It will pick up after they get tired of the terrible customer service they are getting at Jones crappy bookstore.”

“I hope so because I have rent due on the 5th.”

“Please, you’re still living in a place with rent control. I’ll be out on the streets with the amount they rip from my hands each month across town.”

“No one is going to be out on the streets. Think positive. We’ll be fine.” Emma tried to calm the nervousness in the room.

“It’s like working in a tomb here.” Will moaned.

“Wow Will, way to be positive.” Ruby teased with a groan.

He shrugged and Emma skipped away from them, trying to ignore the negative concerns from her employees. She wasn’t going to be put out of business from Jones Books!

When she arrived home that evening, her positive attitude was threatening to wane on her. The store had barely made enough money to be in the black that evening, she stepped in a puddle before entering their apartment, and the zipper in the dress she wanted to wear to the dinner this evening snagged and broke as soon as she put it on.

Groaning she sat down at her laptop as she waited for August to get done with his shower. She read the message from JR10 and her smile returned momentarily.

Lonelygirl: I find that sometimes you are the one person I want to talk to at the end of a difficult day. Is that weird? If it is, just skip over that part. I pride myself in being a positive person, but lately I’m finding it harder to find that little piece of joy before I get swallowed into a black hole of sadness. I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you for being that little piece of joy I needed tonight.

She closed her laptop as August emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. “I thought you were getting dressed?”

“My zipper broke.” She frowned, holding up the dress in front of her.

“So, wear that one with the flowers.”

“I hate that dress.”

“So, wear the plaid one or the one with stripes. Or the red one is nice.” He paused, looking at her closet. “Any of these is fine.”

“Yeah ok, the red one is good.”

An hour later they were in the elevator and heading to the penthouse for a publication party. They were generally dry and boring but a great opportunity to meet other writers, artists, and people in the book business.

“Maybe you can find some people to assist you in your plight tonight.”

“My plight? And what would that be?” She waited on an answer from August.

“From Jones Books, if things got tough perhaps you could find an ally to help rally support.”

“It’s not going to get to that. My store is doing just fine.” Emma replied angrily.

“I know, I don’t know why I said that, of course it’s fine.”

“There’s enough business for more than one bookstore. We’re fine.”

He kissed her cheek. “You’re more than fine, you’re absolutely fine.”

“Yeah, exactly, we’re fine.” She repeated as they stepped into the party at the top of the building unsure if she was trying to convince August or herself of the state of her business.

~*~

Killian and Milah had arrived early to the party, a friend of the family who was hosting a publishing event had invited them to join them that evening. His father told him more than once that these events were the perfect time to rub elbows with people in the book business. Free advertising, he used to tell him.

“Oh, I can’t believe that August Booth is here. I listen to him on the way to work, he is so inspiring.” Killian nodded without actually paying attention as he scanned the room, his eyes settling on a familiar face in the back corner.

Emma Swan.

His eyes grew big, and he leaned over to speak into Milah’s ear. “I’m going to get a drink.” She nodded and he slipped out of view of the woman from his rival bookstore before she could turn in his direction.

“Havana Club Rum, neat.” He gave his order to the bartender, glancing around the room to find Milah.

“Malibu and Cranberry.” He recognized her voice before he turned toward her. When he did she smiled, and her eyes grew wide. “Hey! Remember me? From the bookstore?”

“Yeah, yeah of course I remember you.”

“How’s your brother?”

“He’s good, really good.” He grabbed his drink and held it up in front of him. “I have to get back to my date, very thirsty, would hate to see her wither from dehydration.” He joked.

“You’re Killian right?” She continued and he felt the sweat start to gather at the back of his neck.

“Yes, and you’re Emma.” He said with a smile before ducking into the crowd to escape.

~*~

Emma sipped her drink as she made her way back over to August, sliding up beside him as his conversation ended.

“I can’t believe you were talking to Killian Jones.”

Emma turned toward him, “Jones, as in…”

“Jones Books.” He nodded but Emma was already making her way across the room toward the man standing at the food table.

“Jones, your name is Killian Jones?”

“Last I checked, Aye.” He shrugged, turning back to the food, and filling his plate.

“You were spying on me!” She declared loudly. “You probably don’t even have a brother.”

“You wound me Swan. Of course I have a brother. Why exactly do you think I would spy on you?” He said as if he didn’t have a care in the world who she was, which angered her even more.

“I’m your competition, which you already know or else you wouldn’t have played that little charade in my store.” She had her hands on her hips, chewing angrily on her bottom lip.

“Competition?” He said with an annoying laugh that made her blood boil. “The only reason I came into your store was because I was spending the day with my brother. I like to buy him gifts when I take him out because honestly I have no idea how else to keep his attention. At the time there was only one place in the neighborhood to buy children’s books, though as I am sure you are aware of now, all of that has changed.” He shrugged, “So I ended up in your store, and it is a charming littlestore. You probably sell $250,000 worth of books a year…”

Her eyes widened as she stepped toward him. “How did you know that?”

“I’m in the book business, obviously.” He said arrogantly.

“No, I’m in the book business, you are simply the Costco of books.”

“Ah I see, and so you think that I needed to sneak into your tiny bookstore and steal your financial ledger because I’m afraid you’ll put me out of business? Give me a break, love.” He snorted and Emma felt flustered, angry, but frozen in place.

“What?” He asked as he watched her standing in front of him, mouth agape, saying nothing.

“Killian Jones, corporate scum, destroyer of small-time virtues, enemy of the hardback novel, how do you sleep at night?” August joined her at her side and Emma forced herself to close her mouth as she stared between them.

“I sleep wonderful at night, mostly from the pills though.” A woman interrupted and jabbed her hand toward August. “You’re August Booth, aren’t you?” she paused. “I’m Milah Gold. And I loved your podcast last week about how Amazon is taking over the world.” She turned toward Killian. “This man is a literal genius.” Emma narrowed her eyes at the woman.

“Wow thank you; you have no idea how much that means coming from someone as talented as you. So often I wake up and worry that people will think I’m a fraud or a failure. But this…this is truly inspiring.” August seemed to suck the air out of the room as he continued to praise the woman standing next to her enemy.

“We need to talk more. Have you ever considered writing a book?” The woman continued and August began to shift excitedly on the balls of his feet. Emma stood stoically as her eyes made contact with the man who was trying to destroy her business. He held her gaze, not wavering from the contact until she shifted her eyes back to her boyfriend. She breathed a sigh of relief when Killian and the woman excused themselves from the conversation.

Emma couldn’t concentrate the rest of the evening. Why did she say nothing when he provoked her? Instead of standing up for herself she froze, completely shut down.

“I really liked that Milah Gold. Sure, I know she’s completely driven by money, but anyone who listens to my podcast can always be turned around.”

Emma rolled her eyes, tossing down onto her pillow and staring at the ceiling while he continued to ramble on and on about the evening.

~*~

“I can’t believe we met August Booth. He’s so interesting, don’t you think he’s interesting?” He turned over in his bed, staring at the floor. “His ideas are just so ahead of his time. No one is saying the things he’s saying.”

Killian flipped the covers off his body and stood from the bed. He was feeling uneasy, angry, guilty. Why was he feeling guilty?

“Where are you going?”

“Bloody hell woman, I’m just not tired.”

JR10: Have you ever woken up and realized that you have become the worst part of yourself? Like when someone provokes you, every arrogant, self-absorbed, condescending piece of your personality comes springing to life and attacks. Who am I kidding, you wouldn’t know what that is like? I’m the dark asshole here.

He stared at his screen, almost needing to talk to her, hoping that she was online. His heart soared when it showed she was typing.

Lonelygirl: I completely understand. I’m honestly jealous, I wish I had that in me. When I’m provoked, I freeze like a fish gulping for air, only to spend the rest of the night tossing in bed trying to think of things I should have said instead.

He laughed; he couldn’t believe how opposite they were. She was a breath of fresh air.

JR10: Perhaps I could lend you some of my retorts and you could give me your silence. Though I must warn you, when you finally provide that perfect response that digs into the subject of your attack, you will learn a new trait. Remorse.

He paused, staring at his screen, and thinking about doing something really stupid. Or possibly brilliant. He wasn’t sure which it was.

JR10: Do you think we should meet?

He hovered over the enter button, did he really think it was a good idea to meet this woman? Before he could change his mind he punched the button sending the message and closing the lid of his computer.

~*~

“He wants to meet you?” Emma groaned and leaned against the counter, Ruby staring at her from her spot in front of the shelves. “What did you tell him?”

“I wasn’t going to answer him on an empty stomach. So, I made breakfast and then chickened out and ran straight to work.”

“That’ll show him.” Will joked as he nudged her with his shoulder. “Left him on read.”

“Oh stop.” Emma whined. “I’ll answer him, later.” She sighed, walking back to her office, and staring at her invoices. Sales were down by 30% since Jones books had opened. She was never going to survive at this rate. She needed to do something drastic.

“It’s a shame you don’t know anyone with a voice to the public. Someone who knows how to tug at the heartstrings of America’s bleeding heart.”

Emma looked up to see Mrs. Lucas entering the room. “You aren’t suggesting…”

“That man candy of yours.”

“Don’t call him that.” Emma scrunched her nose and shuffled the papers in front of her.

“Come on, he’s nice on the eyes that man of yours.”

“I guess.”

“If you can only guess, then maybe you’re looking up a different tree.”

Emma’s mouth dropped, “Grans! That’s completely inappropriate.”

The woman shrugged and left the room. “I’ll take him if you’re done with him.” She hollered back as she left.

Emma was being completely unfair to August, there was no way she should meet this JR10. Things were perfect just the way they were. She loved August, he was good to her, and all she was doing was having a conversation with a computer screen.

That’s all.

Nothing more.

As soon as she got home she opened her laptop, determined that this was the right decision.

Lonleygirl: I don’t think we should meet. Why would we ruin what we have? I enjoy talking to you, you enjoy talking to me, why mess with that? Please don’t ask again.

~*~

Killian sat with his dog in his lap and his laptop sitting beside him as he read the incoming message.

“Good job Jones, you scared her.” He patted the dog’s head. “I’m officially an idiot.”

He slammed the laptop shut, unsure how to reply to the woman.

The days went by in a flurry as the store picked up steam. Every time he walked through the expansive store, it was buzzing with customers, passing over credit cards, picking up bundles of books at an affordable rate. He was saving them money, he was a goddamn hero, he thought.

But as he was standing in the checkout line at the grocery store, waiting for any sign of movement in the past ten minutes, his sour mood was making him feel anything like a hero.

“Can you believe this woman?” The man in front of him complained to his wife. “She’s trying to pay with a credit card in the cash only line.”

Killian leaned to the side, trying to see who was causing the delay when he spotted the golden hair, angry face, and an ass that would make any man’s groin twitch. He laughed, cursing his luck, but stepping forward toward her anyway.

“Do you need cash?”

She turned toward him and groaned. “Definitely not, thank you.” She growled.

“Hi, Ashley.” He smiled at the cashier. “This is Emma, I’m Killian. This is a credit card machine, is it not, Lass?” The woman stared at him, nodding with her mouth agape. “It’s the night before Thanksgiving, people are hungry, tired, and I’m sure you would prefer everyone go home so that you can get off your shift, am I right?”

The woman smiled. “It’s cash only.”

“But you have the ability to run it through. Zip zip.” He said as he pretended to push the card through the machine.

The woman took the card and groaned, “Fine.” She said as she ran it through the machine.

“Everything good now?”

“Just great.” Emma replied rolling her eyes.

“Happy Thanksgiving.” He said with a fake smile, turning his back and inserting himself into the line to a swell of cheers and pats on the back.

~*~

Emma found that she was running into Killian everywhere she went to her utter dismay. Suddenly he was at her coffee shop, grocery store, and even the gas station. When he pulled up on his stupid motorcycle she wanted to comment about how he must be overcompensating for something, but that would mean having to speak to him. So instead, she found herself hiding anytime he showed up. Sure, it was ridiculous, but she just didn’t want to face him again after the credit card incident.

As much as seeing Killian was causing her sour mood, she knew that wasn’t the only reason. She hadn’t heard back from JR10 since she told him she didn’t want to meet him. She supposed it was for the best, she never intended for it to go anywhere in the first place.

But everything seemed to be going wrong lately. Killian, JR10, her store. Emma wanted to feel happy, especially during the holidays, but instead she just felt depressed.

She stood at the store display window, watching the children walk by with their parents, snow falling softly in the background, and normally this would bring her all the joy she needed to keep from missing her mom during the holidays. Instead, the little yellow “Jones Books” bags in the hands of the happy children only brought her sadness.

When she got home, she did the one thing that had made her happy recently. She ignored the awkward feelings, sat down with her cocoa, and opened her laptop to message JR10.

Lonelygirl: I miss my mom. The holidays aren’t the same without her. I don’t think I ever told you, but my mom passed ten years ago. Fuck cancer. She always made the holidays special and I’m just really feeling down this year and I guess nothing feels special anymore because nothing is going right in my life anymore and I could really use her advice.

She got up and stood by her window, tears falling onto her cheeks. She laughed as she watched the snow falling. “Suddenly I’m a mess, mom. I miss you.”

A sound alerted her to a new message, and she wiped her face, slowly taking a seat in front of the screen.

JR10: My mother passed when I was 4. Holidays are always difficult. It was a car accident that took her, my father never really knew what to do with two young boys. Intimacy wasn’t exactly his thing. I miss her most around Christmas. She loved the snow. I don’t remember much about her, but I remember that she looked like an angel in the snow. What kind of advice do you need? Maybe I can help.

Emma smiled, happy that he had responded so quickly and didn’t mention anything about the previous awkwardness of her declining to meet him.

Lonelygirl: I don’t think you can help me.

JR10: Is it man trouble?

Lonelygirl: No definitely not. My business is in trouble.

JR10: I’m a great businessman, what kind of business do you have?

Lonelygirl: That’s rule #2 remember! No specifics.

JR10: Well, it’s going to be difficult to help without specifics, but I guess the best advice I can give you is that nothing in business is personal. It’s not personal, it’s business. Don’t go down without a fight. A man, or therefore woman, unwilling to fight for what they want, deserve what they get. You told me that you worried about not being brave in life. This is your chance. Fight to the death.

Emma closed her laptop and looked in the mirror. “It’s not personal, it’s business.” She narrowed her eyes. “It’s not personal, it’s business.” She said louder as August walked into the room.

“What’s not personal?”

“Jones Books.” She announced. “I’m going to war. And I want you to help me fight them.” August walked over and lifted her off the ground, spinning her around.

“There’s my girl. Let’s take it to the man.”

~*~

“You are what you read, save your soul, boycott Jones Books.” Killian glared at the poster attached to the window of his store. Ripping it from the glass he stormed into the store, marching to the back and into Belle’s office. “What is this crap?”

“They’re all over the streets, I’m finding them on the back of the registers, on my car. That little bookstore that none of you cared about, means business. Did you know they got that podcaster, August Booth to devote an entire hour of his next show comparing us to sharks that attack children on the beach?”

“Of course she did, I believe she’s dating the man.”

“Who is?”

“Emma, the owner of Golden Swan Books.”

“You know her?”

“Might have met her once.”

“Oh God.” Belle recoiled and reached for her remote on her desk, turning the volume up on the television above their head.

“I’m here with Emma Swan, owner of the quaint children’s bookstore Golden Swan Books. The store is struggling to remain open under the constant attack of the new super store Jones Books that opened down the block. Emma how are you?”

“Thank you for having me, you know I just want to say that Jones Books may have cheap books and wonderful coffee selections, but most of their employees have never even read a book in their life.”

Killian groaned. “She’s a real pain in the ass.”

“Is she now?” Bell mused. “I’m sure she’s not nearly as beautiful in person as she is on television.” She smirked.

“Oh no, she’s gorgeous, but a bloody pain in the ass.”

“You don’t feel bad that you are basically destroying her livelihood?”

“It’s not personal…”

“It’s business.” She finished for him.

“Besides, I’m not physically doing this, it’s the company. I’m not this big bad guy here. I’m just doing my job.” He complained. “I sell discounted books. So, sue me. Because of me, more people get to…OH MY GOD…buy books.” He dramatically paced the office, his hands flailing as Belle looked on with a smile. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged, looking back down at her computer.

When Killian left the store an hour later it was to a line of people holding signs and screaming in his face. “One, two, three, four, we don’t want this superstore.”

~*~

Emma stared at the papers in front of her. “Wait, so it made no difference at all?”

“Sorry, dear, doesn’t look like it. In fact, we’ve lost more this month than we did the previous three before their store even opened.”

Emma exhaled loudly. “So, we lost?” Her shoulders hunched and she felt the air inside of her deflate. “What would mom do?”

“I don’t know, dear, but the store looks lovely.”

Emma smiled weakly as the woman left the office, slumping against her desk, she cried softly. She walked home in the rain, not even bothering to shield herself from the conditions. By the time she reached her apartment her clothes were soaked to her skin, her hair dripping onto the tile floor, and her tears were drowned by the moisture.

Sinking down at her desk, she opened her laptop and typed.

Lonleygirl: I need help. Do you still want to meet?

Emma tapped her nails on the keyboard, waiting anxiously for a reply. It didn’t take long for her to get one.

JR10: I’m happy to help. Do you know the Diner on 83rd? Friday, 7pm?

“Wait, you’re meeting him?” Ruby gaped.

“Like in person? That’s bloody dangerous, Emma.” Will scolded.

“You both are being ridiculous. We’re meeting in a public place. It’s fine.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned toward the older woman in the room. “Tell them Grans.”

“There are worse ways to meet men.” She laughed.

“Did you tell August?” Ruby inquired.

“No.” She said as she lowered her head. “He’s out of town this weekend. Some podcast convention in Los Angeles.”

“Aye, so that makes it alright to meet strange men you’ve been chattin’ with online?”

“I’m not going to stay long; we’re just eating food. That’s all.” She protested as Will made a gesture that indicated a sexual act. Emma groaned and punched him in the shoulder. “You’re disgusting. It’s just dinner. That’s all. 45 mins, an hour, tops.”

~*~

“I’m not even going to stay that long.” Killian protested as he and Belle walked the darkened streets.

“So how does this work? How are you going to know who she is?”

“She said she’ll have a book with a single rose.”

“A book, are you sure she doesn’t already know who you are?”

“It’s a common thing, from a book or something.” He mused and Belle rolled her eyes. “Do you think this is ridiculous, am I purposely trying to destroy a good thing with Milah?”

“Well, you do have a tendency to ruin things that could possibly lead to a future.” She laughed. “But I haven’t quite figured out why you and Milah are still together, honestly.”

“I love her.”

“Do you? Because I kinda think if you did, you wouldn’t be meeting up with random women you’ve been talking to online.”

Killian stopped walking and looked up at the door to the restaurant. “I can’t do this.” He started to turn away before spinning back toward the restaurant. “God, why do I need to meet this woman so badly that I can’t walk away?” He looked over at Belle. “Go look. Tell me if you can see her.”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Killian. Do you want me to go in and have dinner with her too?”

“Only if she’s horrid.” He teased. “Please, Belle.” She climbed the stairs, peering through the window. “Do you see her?”

“Oh wow, she’s gorgeous.” Belle grinned. “Oh wait, no flower. Sorry.”

“Lass, this woman is a marvel. Even if she looks like her smiley face icon on discord, I may have no choice but to upend my life and marry her tomorrow.”

“Wait, I see a book.” Belle squealed, “And a flower…” She moved around the window. “The waiters in the way.” She peered again through the window. “Oh. Um…”

“What is it? Blonde, Brunette…is she a red head?”

“She’s gorgeous.”

“Bloody hell, I knew it.” He yelped.

“Yeah, definitely. I would say she’s as beautiful as Emma Swan.”

“The bookstore woman?” He asked confused.

“You said she was attractive.”

“Why are we even talking about Emma Swan right now?”

“Because, if you don’t like Emma Swan, you’re definitely not going to like this woman.”

“Why not?” Killian growled.

“Because she is Emma Swan.” Killian ran up the stairs, pushing himself against Belle and peering into the restaurant.

“Bloody hell.” He watched as Emma sat at the table, a soft smile across her lips, adjusting the book and the flower on the table as she nervously watched the door. Killian sighed and turned away from the door, walking back to the sidewalk.

“Where are you going?” Belle said loudly. “You’re just gonna let her sit there alone?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“But she’s lonelygirl, you were desperate to know who she was just ten minutes ago.”

“Goodnight Belle.” He said sadly, walking back toward his apartment.

~*~

Emma stared anxiously at the door, inspecting every person who walked through the entrance. When a tall man entered, smiling at her as he turned the corner, she stood up to greet him only for another woman to rush toward him, pulling her into his arms. Emma sat down, feeling dejected, her stomach tied in knots from disappointment. She couldn’t believe JR10 stood her up.

Maybe he was too good to be true.

“Ma’am, do you want your check?”

“No, can I have another glass of wine, please.” The waiter smiled and nodded sadly at her.

“Excuse me Ma’am.” Emma looked up excitedly at a young man standing next to her table. Ok he was a little younger than she expected, but age didn’t matter, right? “Are you using this chair?”

Emma narrowed her eyes as he started to remove the other chair from her table. “Put it down.” She bit her lip. “Sorry, I’m using it, I have a date, he’s coming.” The man apologized and Emma hollered after him. “He’s late.” She groaned as the door swung open and she felt like everything was moving in slow motion until it came to a screeching halt.

Killian Jones. Are you fucking kidding me?

He walked past her table, and she saw him react when he recognized her. His hands traced her table before picking up her book and making a face. She grabbed it from his hands and placed it back on her table. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” He said, taking a seat across from her.

“I’m sorry, but that seat is taken.”

He looked around with an air of arrogance, “Is he invisible? Do you have an invisible friend now?” He stood and apologized to the chair.

“Would you please leave.”

He had the nerve to bow, which made her blood boil. But instead of walking away, he took the table behind her, sitting down and leaning closer to her. “You know I’ve read that book.”

Emma looked down at her book. “You’ve read Pride and Prejudice?”

“I think you’d find a lot of things surprising about me, if you actually knew me.”

Emma glared at him, “If I got to know you I bet I’d find a cash register instead of a brain and instead of a heart, a bottom line.” Her mouth dropped.

“What’s wrong?” He replied after seeing the look on her face.

“I just did something I’ve never been able to do before. When confronted by a terrible and insensitive person, I knew exactly what to say, exactly at the right time.”

“I must agree, congratulations, it was the perfect mixture of poetry and mean spiritedness.”

“Mean spirted? I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t be offended, I was paying you a compliment, lass.”

“Please leave, I beg you.” She said on the verge of tears.

She reached into her purse, pulling out her handkerchief and dabbing the corners of her eyes.

“You know what that reminds me of? The first time we met.” He said reverently.

“You mean the day you lied to me when you were spying on me.”

“Hey, I never lied to you.”

She snorted. “Yeah whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The door opened and they both turned toward the door. A short man with an angry face entered the room. “I’m going to venture a guess that this is not him either. Who could your mystery man be? Will you be mean to him too?”

“Of course I won’t because the man I’m meeting is nothing like you. He’s kind and sweet and a much better man than you.”

“Except that he’s stood you up, it’s bad form to leave a lady waiting.”

“If he’s not here, then he has a good reason. Because there isn’t a mean bone in his entire body. But you wouldn’t know that because you’re just a jerk in a leather jacket who thinks he’s better than everyone else.” She turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“And that’s my cue to leave.” He said softly, in a voice that sounded almost disappointed. But Emma didn’t care, all she wanted was to be alone.

~*~

“Somewhere inside that hard exterior must be the same woman who writes to you online, maybe underneath it all she’s just…”

“A real bitch.” He replied to Belle. “Can we not talk about Emma Swan? I’m going back to the office.” He said with annoyance, walking out of the back office and slipping out of the store onto the street. He hated that this woman was still driving him mad. She was a thorn in his side, infuriating, and troublesome and yet all he could think about was the way she wrote to him, the way he waited anxiously just to see that message pop up on screen.

More than anything, he missed her.

~*~

“So, he stood you up?” Ruby said angrily.

“Or he got injured.” Emma interjected and Will laughed. “Seriously, what if he had an accident on the way to restaurant? What if he’s lying in a hospital bed right now?”

“What if he’s a bloody murderer and he was meeting up with you to kill you?”

“Will!” Ruby exclaimed.

“I’m not bloody kidding, remember that murder at my apartment a few weeks back? They caught the guy, last night!” He pulled out his phone, searching for the information and holding up the screen to show them a picture of the man who was arrested the previous night.

“Oh my God.” Emma said cupping her hand over her mouth.

“Emma, that’s not him.” Ruby said rolling her eyes.

“But what if it is.”

“You’re making excuses, so you don’t feel sad about getting stood up, I get it, I do.”

Emma frowned; she knew her friend was right. She was sad, and maybe a little bit angry at JR10 for standing her up. Even though he hadn’t sent her a message since last night, perhaps she needed to let him know how she felt.

Lonelygirl: I’m thinking about you. Last night I went to meet you and you didn’t show up. I wish I could understand why. I feel like such a fool. But while I waited for you to arrive, another man showed up. A man who has effectively been trying to ruin my professional life. But the most amazing thing happened, for the first time in my life, I was able to say exactly what I wanted at exactly the right time. But just as you said, I immediately felt regret for saying them. I was mean, and I’m never mean. And even if it didn’t hurt him, because honestly, he just thinks of me as a bug to crush under his feet, but what if it did hurt him? I behaved badly and that made me sad. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I consider you a dear friend, and I hope you had a good reason for not being there tonight, but if you didn’t and we never speak again, then I want you to know how much this time with you has meant to me. How much it has meant just to know you were there.

Emma shut down her laptop, wiping the tears from her eyes and crawling into bed.

~*~

Killian paced in front of his desk, reading the message from Emma again. He stopped for a moment, glaring at the screen before walking away and getting a bottle of rum from his kitchen. He poured a glass and took a sip. He wasn’t going to reply to her. He would just let it end this way and be done with this charade.

He poured another glass and walked toward his desk, turning sharply, and heading to the living room. Sitting down on the couch he turned on the television and his vision blurred to the sounds of some mindless television show playing out ridiculous scenes on screen.

Sipping his glass, he swallowed, the warm liquid coating his throat as it slid into his belly. “Fuck.” He cursed, standing up and walking back to his desk. Looking at the screen he re-read the message from Emma for the fourth time that evening.

Fine, he thought. I’m actually going to do this.

JR10: I’m in Vancouver.

He laughed and hit the backspace button, deleting what he had written.

JR10: I was stuck in a meeting; a microburst took out the entire block so there was no way I could reach out.

“Ridiculous.” He said out loud, erasing the message again.

JR10: I cannot explain what happened last night, but I feel terrible, love. I wasn’t there for you and instead I caused you more pain. I’m sure that whatever you said last night was provoked, even deserved. You expected to find someone you trusted and met the enemy instead. I truly am sorry; the fault is mine alone. I hope that one day I will be able to explain to you what happened, in the meantime, I’m here for you. Please talk to me.

~*~

“So, he didn’t tell you why he didn’t show up?”

“Nope, just that he would explain another time.”

“Sounds like a scam to me.” Ruby said, biting her lip.

Mrs. Lucas cleared her throat. “What have you decided, dear?”

Emma frowned, sipping her tea slowly. “I don’t think we have a choice. We’re going to have to close.”

“Emma, I’m so sorry.” Ruby offered beside her.

“I feel like such a failure, like I’m just giving up, letting him win. It feels like mom is…”

“Oh, sweet girl, closing the store doesn’t keep her alive. No matter how much you want it to.”

Emma cried that evening, staring at empty shelves, barren walls, a darkened store that would forever be gone. She imagined her mother, looking down at her while she danced in circles around her legs. Had she really lost or was this just her being brave? Maybe trying something new was the brave thing to do? Letting go of the past, her safety net.

As she sat across from August, staring at him while he spoke between bites, she realized that for the first time in her life, she could be anything that she wanted.

“I have an Amazon prime account.” She announced.

He paused, “What?”

“I know, I know, they are evil incarnate, but when I buy something, I get it the next day and that’s pretty awesome and I should have told you, but I didn’t.” She let the statement hang in the air.

“Since when do you shop online?”

“I know, I suppose you could never be with someone that buys items online from large corporations.”

He laughed. “Forget about it, I forgive you. It’s fine.”

Emma glared at him. “You forgive me?” She took a long drink of her wine while August stared at her with concern growing on his face.

“What’s wrong Emma?” Suddenly the dam burst, and tears started to stream down her face. “Hey, don’t do that. Emma, it’s alright. This has been a tough week with the store closing.”

“It’s not that though, August, I need…”

“That was insensitive of me.”

Emma sniffled. “What was?”

“To bring up the store, when you’re having a hard time and I’m the one who’s…” He took a quick drink and reached out to take her hand. “Emma I don’t know how to say this. I think you are an amazing person, and honestly I’m so honored that you chose me because I know that means something to you and…”

“You don’t love me.” She said suddenly realizing what he was trying to tell her. He frowned, squeezing her hand and Emma burst into a fit of giggles. “That’s wonderful news, I don’t love you either.”

“But we’re so right for each other.” He mused.

“I know, it doesn’t make sense. Is there someone else?”

“Nothing that’s happened, but there is a woman, I don’t know. What about you? Is there someone else for you?”

Emma sighed sadly. “No, but there is the dream of someone else.”

[pagingevilspawn]

Photographs

okay, so thanks to @doc-pickles and @iamtrebleclefstories i’ve been obsessed with with soulmate fanfics in this fandom and the stranger things fandom, so all idea credit goes to those two! 

its also been posted on my wattpad as part of my one shots book- to build a home. i’m not very good with links haha. 

A soulmate AU where on your 16th birthday, you receive three photos of your soulmate

____

His sixteenth birthday was honestly not something he was looking forward to. He knew his mom wouldn't be stable enough to cook him a cake like she had when he was younger, before her condition worsened to the point where nearly all her days were bad ones, unlike how it had been the previous year. He knew she wouldn't cup his face in her hands and softly speak, "Alex, my sweetest boy. My truest love." as she stroked his cheeks ever so tenderly. His dad wasn't around anymore, which he knew was a positive thing, well, he supposed it was.

But it was still the first birthday without his dad in it, and that thought made him sad. Not a lot, but a little. Just because all of his birthdays for the past nine years had been his dad telling him that he was a waste of space and a 'fucking idiot' didn't mean he didn't miss him in the smallest way shape or form. He was still his dad after all. The guy who brought him to the fair when he was younger. The guy who briefly taught him how to play guitar. And on the rare occasion when he was sober for about a week or so, would bring Alex out to fix up a pick up truck his dad planned to give him on his sixteenth birthday, but ultimately started using not long before his fifteenth.

He knew Aaron and Amber would maybe do something, but he knew there wasn't much they could do. They were only four and ten. They shouldn't do anything for their brother because he was feeling crappy about a day that didn't even mean that much to him.

Ugh. Birthdays. He thought they were really stupid. Why make a big deal out of the day you were born? Especially if nobody really seemed to care much about your existence.

That's why when he awoke on his sixteenth birthday he was surprised. He'd completely forgotten about what happened on the day everyone had told him about since, well... since he could remember. Some of the things people said to him when he was still was a small boy were nice and comforting, something that made him look forward to this special day, like "Oh, what a lucky women that boy's soulmate will be," was something he got often when he was younger, before his mom's schizophrenia and before his dad's substance abuse. He used to be a really sweet kid. He gave his lollipops to others who looked like they wanted it more, he shared his toys with people in the park. He talked and interacted with everyone from a young age. He was a cute kid too, he remembered. That's what people always said. They would pinch his chubby cheeks and ruffle his dark brown hair, which would lead to Alex giving them his signature crooked smile, which warmed the hearts of many. "What a sweet soulmate he will be.", "The special girl won't know what hit her!" , "He will treat her like a queen i'm sure." thats what daycare teachers and random moms at the park used to say to his parents, complimenting him on how well little Alex treated their daughters. While most boys his age we certain that girls had cooties, Alex just simply talked to him and played with them like they were just a normal person. Not to mention, what a little charmer he was. He was a flirt from the moment he was born. He told some girls he thought they were 'weally pwetty' and said he liked the bows in their hair or the outfit they were wearing. He had mad game. Even from the young age of four he had somehow even managed to completely charm his preschool teacher Ms. Ryan, who he thought was the most beautiful women to ever walk the face of the earth at the time (other than his mom). Ms. Ryan definitely favored Alex, always giving him extra treats at snack, or letting him out first to go to recess. Turns out, being thirty three and a four year old boy telling you on an almost daily basis that 'your dwess is supa pwetty Ms. Ryan' or 'i wike your hair vwery much' was a major confidence booster.

It all changed when he was five though, when his mom's condition was getting worse and his dad started using more and more and more. The situation just decreased as the years went on. Out were the compliments and looks of adoration and in rolled the dirty glares and not-so secret whispers. "What a poor girl to have him as her soulmate.", "I would hate for my daughter to be tied to him forever.", "Let's just hope his soulmate can put up with him." were the ones he heard instead. It used to hurt, but now he didn't mind. He didn't have any friends, any girlfriends, just some mere acquaintances. All he could really say he had were about half of the school's females tucked under his belt. Something he didn't actually care about. Sex was a defense mechanism. Sex made him feel wanted. If some girl was throwing herself at him, he took the opportunity. He felt like he was wanted, even if it was just for twenty minutes in some random parking lot.

He didn't really care for birthdays.

So, imagine his surprise when he woke up that morning to find an orange envelope on his dresser table. It was then he remembered. He remembered that the day of your sixteenth birthday you found out who your soulmate was.

He grabbed the folder so quickly it was like a flash of light. This envelope gave him hope. Hope that one day, someone would care about him. Because, that was the point of soulmates, right? A soulmate was someone who was made for you. Someone who would be okay with all the crap life had thrown at him. Some who would love you. Because, his soulmate would right? Right. She had to. He needed somebody. He really, really needed somebody. And his soulmate was his somebody. Hopefully.

With that thought he takes a deep breath and nearly rips the envelope open. He pulls out the three photos in it delicately, not wanting to even risk a crease or fold forming on the photos. He flips them over one by one.

The three photos.

Wow.

The three photos he'd been hearing about since he was a little boy.

The first one, as he had learned, is what your soulmate looked like on the day of their sixteen birthday, whether it be in the future or the past.

He feels stupid, really stupid. He was smiling like a god damn idiot.

She was hot, his soulmate. Really hot.

Her long brown hair was in gentle curls, natural he could tell. He knew what real curls were versus curling iron ones. She had bright golden eyes. He swore, they were like actual gold. They had specks of green, yellow, and honey. A little beauty mark sat by her right lip. And those lips? They were plump, full, and a bright pink. In the photo she was smiling. He really liked her smile. It was joyous, it made him feel happy, in a way he'd never felt before. He assumed she was laughing, based on the fact that her head was slightly tilted back. From what he could tell, she was wearing a pair of jeans and a flannel. He liked that about her, the fact that she wasn't wearing whatever uncomfortable shit he'd seen some girls at his school wear. She looked like she was dressed how she wanted to and wasn't gonna let society or school cliques tell her otherwise.

He let out a small sigh as he placed down the photo delicately, as if he dropped it any harsher it would break like glass. He picks up the second photo, another smile gracing his lips as he studies it.

The second photo was always of your soulmate the day you met. Well, more specifically, the first time you meet. In his, the girl looked even more beautiful. Except now, she wasn't a girl, she was a woman, and that was obvious. Her face was a bit fuller, and instead of having her hair down this time, two strands of her dark locks were framing her face. He could tell she was in the middle of saying something, but her face wasn't frozen in some awkward position. It looked natural, like a well shot candid.

Alex placed down the second photo just as delicately as the first, setting them side by side. The third and final photo he wasn't quite ready for.

The last photo was a picture of them at their worst. When they had hit absolute rock bottom, before thirty though. Again with the age. Alex didn't get it. Why should they put an age limit on knowing your soulmate? Wasn't there a saying in wedding vows, "for better or worse"? and that was for married people for god's sake. So, why shouldn't he be able to see his soulmate at her worst? It made sense right?

Alex flipped over the photograph hesitantly, his breath getting caught in his throat.

He slams the photo down on the bed as quickly as he could, not being able to look at it any longer.

He understood now.

His soulmate was beaten and bruised, almost all her marks, scars, and bruises visible due to the nightgown she wore. In the photo she was crying, silent tears, he could tell.

He understood now, why they only let you see towards a certain age. Because what if it was worse? What if something worse had happened while his soulmate was older?

A horrible thought came to his mind, shaking it off immediately.

No, he did not do that.

He knew he didn't. He wouldn't. He'd seen his dad beat his mom again and again. He would never be like his dad. He swore on it.

But still, that lingering thought in his mind.

No.

Instead of thinking further, he picked up the first photo of her, the one wheres she is sixteen too. He studies it, knowing that by tomorrow the photo would be gone. Just like the others. That was how it worked anyways. The photos only lasted a day. The next morning, the pictures would be gone. All he knew about her would be her face, which he was going to imprint into his memory as best as he could. The universe seemed to enjoy playing games with people, so again after the one day, your memory of the photo was foggy. Very foggy. It wasn't until you actually met your soulmate when you would remember the photos you saw when you were sixteen. So, her studied her. Even laugh line, every beauty mark, every freckle (she had them sprinkled in every so lightly on her nose). He would remember it all, he told himself that. So that way when he saw her, he would know. But of course, forgetting was inevitable.

He smiles at the photo, biting his lip in a failed attempt to stop his smile from growing. It all seemed surreal to him. A soulmate. He had one? He, Alexander Michael Karev, a boy who had to grow up much younger than most, had a soulmate? Someone who would be okay with his crap?

The man was far from a romantic. He gagged at chick flicks and still felt uncomfortable when he saw any form of PDA, whether it be him or anyone else, but he swore, he thinks this girl would make him okay with everything. For this girl, he could see himself do anything. He would jump in front of a bear for her. No doubt. It didn't matter that he had never even met her. He just knew.

He shrugs the sappy thoughts away, scoffing at himself, in an attempt to not lose his 'tough guy behavior'.

Get a hold of yourself Karev. She's just a girl.

But even those thoughts couldn't erase the smile from his face.

____

On the night before her sixteenth birthday, she was anxious. Really anxious. And scared. She could barely sleep that night, tossing and turning without being able to stop in the backseat of her car. But she knew the envelope wouldn't come unless she slept, since it only showed up after you fell asleep. So, she squeezed her eyes as tight as she could like a little girl wishing to see fairies and let the exhaustion of the days events take over her.

As she awoke the next morning, she temporarily forgot everything. For her, it was jut another day, trying to pry her exhausted eyes open, her mind having a battle with her body. She makes tiny noises as she drifts towards consciousness, her brain foggy with jumbled words and half made thoughts.

When she does manage to open her eyes, she sees an orange envelope tucked into the car's window from the inside. She doesn't think much of it at first, her brain still not on the cognitive thinking side of things, until she wakes up a bit more, remembering the day it was.

She sits up with a start, grabbing the envelope and opening it carefully, but still so quickly that the photos were tumbling out.

She picks up the first from the deck. A photo of her soulmate on his sixteenth birthday. And damn, she was a lucky woman.

He had a sharp jawline, no scratch that, a really freakin sharp jawline. Like you could run your finger across and you would end up with a cut. His messy-yet-styled hair was a dark brown. He had a broad build, biceps pulsing out form the white t-shirt he wore, and a really freakin sexy half smirk. His eyes were a dark brown like his hair, but his eyes, they held something familiar. They held, loneliness. Longing. Exhaustion. That was a big one. At first glance, you couldn't tell, but she could see, behind the eyes of dark brown and bits of green, he was exhausted. Exhausted of what? She didn't know. But she could tell, since she was sure she had the same in her orbs too.  Loneliness. She felt that one too. But him? Lonely? He didn't look like the lonely type. He looked like the guys she saw at her school, the ones were girls falling at their feet and at least five different men to meet him every morning by the lockers to do a 'bro hug'. But she knew to not make assumptions. Longing. What was he longing for? A better life? Better parents? Better friends, better grades? She had no idea, but the look was clear in his eyes. But there was one more thing that shone in his seas of brown. Hope. The day of the photo was of the day of his sixteenth birthday. Could the glimmer of hope be for her? Could she be the cause of someone to believe. Probably not, but still, it never hurt to dream.

The second photo was of him the day they meet. And once again, she was a lucky lady. She couldn't quite see what he was wearing, but it looked to be some type of flimsy dark blue materiel. He had a half snarl on his face, but it didn't really look awkward, like she assumed it would on others. It looked natural, like he'd done it so many times before, it just came with ease.

He had the slightest bit of a stubble on his face, looking like he'd just shaved that morning or the night before, a bit more hair visible in the mustache area. His hair was a bit shorter than the previous photo, but not by much. It was better styled, but still looked like he had run his hands through it too many times to count. She sets the photo down next the the other one, taking a deep breath before flipping over the third and final photograph.

She intakes a sharp breath upon seeing the picture, tears pooling in her eyes at the sight in her hand. It was her soumate, lyig in a pool of his own blood, the red liquid coming from his chest.

He was shot.

In the chest, she assumed. That's where the most of the blood was at. She bites her bottom lip, trying to keep it from trembling. He was what seemed to be a metal box. An elevator? That seemed most likely. His blood stained clothes were previously a light blue, his hair shorter than the previous two photos.

The clothing, it liked familiar. Where had she seen them before? She racks her brain, trying to identify what her soulmate was wearing, purposefully ignoring the large sum of red surrounding the man.

A small smile graces her lips. Scrubs. She'd seen them on a few people when she went into town. So that meant he was doctor. Right? Or a nurse, but he didn't really look like he would be a nurse. And his scrubs were a different color than the ones in the precios picture. She assumed the clothing were scrubs in the second photo as well.

She swallowed thickly. It hurt. She felt the pain. The pain of her soulmate getting shot. It hurt like hell, and she wasn't even experiencing it first hand. But it still hurt. It felt like someone was grabbing her heart and squeezing it. It wasn't the same type of pain, but it was still pain nonetheless.

With that she sets the photo down. The fear starts to kick in then.

How would he soulmate feel about her past? He looked normal. Despite the loneliness and longing in his eyes, her looked normal.

What if she screwed it up? What if he couldn't deal with her crazy? She was Brooke. Hobo, car living, foster home, no parents Brooke.

She shoved the thoughts aside. He was her soulmate. The handsome stranger with the dark eyes that were somehow calming was her soulmate. Who knows, maybe he was just as screwed up as her.

____

Alex Karev had always been impatient. Ever since he was a little boy really.

So imagine how impatient he was when he was twenty nine years old and had still yet to meet his soulmate.

Her loved Izzie, and she had lost Denny, her soulmate. They made each other happy. They loved each other, she was probably going to die. He loved her, so they got married. He got married to someone who wasn't his soulmate. He had given up at that point. I mean, come on. Twenty nine years he'd been on this planet and he still had yet to meet his soulmate. God, he really wished he could just remember her face. He couldn't remember a single thing. Everything else from the day was clear, but the photos that held his soulmates face were a complete blur, nearly nonexistent. All he could remember were his feelings. He remembers thinking she was really hot. And he remembers feeling really happy. Too happy. He pushed the feelings aside. He loved Izzie.

And it hurt like hell when she left. They had their arguments, sure. But he loved her. He waited to kiss her because he wanted it to be special. He gave her a cupcake on her birthday because he wanted her to know she was loved. He wanted to let her know that she wasn't just another notch under his belt. He was a jerk, he knew that. He could be grumpy and he pushed people away. He guessed he pushed Izzie away.

He didn't know if he was ever going to meet his soulmate. He tried dating by and only had a list of failed relationships. And then the plane crash happened. He should've been on that plane, but Robbins boarded it instead. Maybe he would've been the one to lose a leg. Then Robbins would still be happy and making Alex gag at how in love her and Callie were. They were soulmates. It seemed like everyone had already gout their soulmate. Meredith had Derek. Callie had Arizona. Owen had Cristina, even though they had more than many disagreements. Bailey had Ben. Everybody had somebody.

Except him.

And that freakin sucked. So, he slept with the interns. Lots of them. Stacy, Tina, Irene, Brooks, Murphy. He'd pretty much given up on meeting his soulmate. At thirty-two he had still yet to meet the girl from the photographs.

So, sleeping with the interns and having non serious , inappropriate relationships with them it is.

____

She had always been impatient. When she was six she once punched a boy because one; he was being a complete ass, and two; he was taking too long to give her the crayon. he deserves it. he was making fun of her and purposefully trying to flatten the green crayon just to annoy her. he deserved the punch.

So when she met a man who treated her like a queen, who didn't beat her down for not having parents and living in her car she felt amazing. He called her beautiful and showered her with gifts and expensive foods. she didn't really care about that though, she enjoyed when he would delicately hold her like she was a porcelain doll. When he would greet her with a deep kiss after he came home from work.

She loved him so much that she agreed to marry him after only being together for eleven months. She knew Paul wasn't her soulmate, but a man who treated her so nicely, a man who was ever do handsome, wanted her? Who treated her with such love and tenderness, so what if he wasn't her soulmate. She was twenty three years old and hadn't met him yet. And if this amazing guy wanted her and loved her as much as she loved him, than it was okay, not being with her soulmate.

She held onto that love. She held onto that love for three years. Three years of beatings, begging that the man who showed her so much love and kindness would come back and stay.

Because Paul wasn't always bad. Some days he would come home and give her that breathtaking kiss as he walked through the door. Some days he still held her like she was a little porcelain doll.

Some days he did still show her that love like he used to that first year. But those days were few and far between.

She wished she had just waited. Gotten over her impatience for something real and waited. Maybe then everything would be okay.

Maybe one day she'll meet him.

....

She was no longer Brooke. No more with Brooke Stadler or the various names she took from all the different foster homes.

Now she was Jo. Josephine. Josephine Alice Wilson. It's who she felt like.

Jo. It was a bit old-timey, sure. But she liked it, the fact that she could probably confuse people who had only seen her name and think she was a boy. She didn't want to be a man, but maybe people would be surprised to see that all this well done work was actually done by a woman.

Jo was strong. Jo was powerful. Jo was the person she had always wanted to be.

She left behind Brooke. Brooke was... she was someone else. Brooke was a survivor. But Brooke was scared. Scared of everything. But Jo?

Jo knew Paul could find her. It would be hard, very hard. And he probably wouldn't, but now she wasn't scared. Brooke would've been scared. Brooke wouldn't been scared shitless. But Jo? No, Jo was far from scared. She was excited. She was eager. Because she had a new start. She got to be whoever the hell she wanted. She could go out and drink with her friends. She could go out and drink until she probably couldn't walk. She could do whatever the hell she wanted. She could wear whatever the hell she wanted. She could talk however the hell she wanted.

Because she was Jo.

But Jo did still want the one thing Brooke wanted. To find her soulmate. Sure, by now she knew that he probably didn't exist and the whole ordeal was just plain poppycock, but she wanted to find him. She really, truly, desperately wanted to find him.

She was twenty-seven years old and had a nonexistent love life. a few random hook ups from a bar were not included.

Maybe here. Maybe in Seattle she would meet her soulmate.

____

She was on Peds today, with Alex Karev. She hadn't  ever met the man before, but she had heard more about him than she cared to. Mainly from Leah Murphy with the occasional input from Heather Brooks. From what she gathered, the easiest way to label him was a man whore. So she wasn't really the most excited to be on his service for the week.

She'd been in Seattle for a month now, starting her internship as Seattle Grace Mercy West Hospital. She was in love. Sure, doing scut all day and running labs wasn't much, but when she gets to observe from inside the OR? She felt like she won the freakin lottery.

The girl grabbed a trauma gown form behind her attending. "Do you mind" he snarls not even meeting her gaze as he turns around and heads to the ambulance bay.

She says she was sorry, but she doesn't think he hears her.

"Why are you following me?" she doesn't know why, but for some reason his voice gives her butterflies. She hadn't gotten a look at his face yet, but she assumed it was turned into a grimace.

"I'm your intern for the day." her voice sends tingles through him, shooting down his spine. He hadn't seen her yet, but her voice was strangely comforting.

"Hello intern you got a-" he starts, stopping as soon as he looks at her.

He feels breath get caught in his throat. no, surely he was imagining things. Right?

She feels like she can't breathe. That face. It was the same one as the one she saw on her sixteenth birthday. She remembers him. His sharp jawline and tiny bit of stubble.

And those eyes. she remember those eyes.

They held the same things as before. Loneliness, longing, exhaustion. But now, the tiny glimmer of hope she once saw was bright, not like the barely there she saw once before.

He felt everything in that moment. She was just like he remembered. Her long brown hair was swept up into a low updo, two dark strands framing her face. She had that little beauty mark by lip. And her eyes, they were truly everything. They showed him what she was feeling, surprise, disbelief, a bit of fear, hope. he knew his eyes were telling her the same thing.

They're not sure how long they're standing there in the middle of the ambulance bay, oblivious to the two other people next to them.

She wasn't sure how long it was until he broke the silence, a large crooked smile making its way onto his lips.

"Hi."

he whispers so delicately, like if he were to speak any louder the world around then would shatter.

She feels he smile widen, but now grinning from ear to ear.

"Hi."

[bonesthebeloved]

You did to me what tsunamis do to homes- Sanders Sides

@lance-alt

Summary: Patton and Remus fuse for an experiment. Then they fuse again. Then they stay fused because Patton wants too. When the others finally find out how bad it is hurting Remus, the damage is already done and they have to deal with the aftermath. Wordcount: 3849 words Relationships: Platonic creativitwins, Romantic Intruloceit. TRIGGER/ SQUICK WARNING: !UNSYMPATHETIC PATTON!, mental abuse, neglection, manipulation, dismissal, swearing, disassociation, shouting, panic attack mention (brief), some plushy and clothes get ripped apart I guess, vomiting, (idk how to tag this but Patton flirts with Roman while he and Remus are fused so that), Crying, food mention. (If I forgot anything please let me know. this is a heavy one and I don’t wanna accidentally hurt people with it.)

Patton being unsympathetic/ abusive isn’t really explained but I don’t have the brain cells for that atm so let’s just say he thinks he can protect Thomas this way and is willing to do anything to ‘keep him safe’ however incorrect he may be.

After this post by @lance-alt (Hope you like it bud.)

They had found out that they could fuse because of creativity. Remus and Roman had finally reconnected enough for them to be friendly with each other again. Baking and making a mess of the kitchen while loudly singing Disney songs at 10 am, sitting on the couch together to watch crappy horror movies and laughing at how terrible the special effects were. Dancing in the living room to Panic! at the disco, with energy so high it could match Patton’s when he had too much sugar.

When Remus had grabbed his brother to spin in circles, the soul reason just being him simply wanting to do so now that he could, when something had happened.

Bright light and they both weren’t quite themselves anymore.

A stumble as they looked down. The floor much further away and their body not quite theirs.

It had been exciting, to be the King again. Remus had made them hug themselves and Roman had spun them around before both of them made them run towards Patton’s room.

When they unfused again there had been confusion.  When they fused again Logan had conducted an experiment.

And now Remus was in the logical traits room. Fidgeting his thumbs while Patton picked some music. It wasn’t the duke’s preference. He liked something more upbeat. Something edgier. But Patton had picked the music and this was only for an experiment so he didn’t argue.

Besides. He did not want to get on Patton’s bad side.

The dancing was awkward and so was the fusion. It didn’t feel quite right. Unlike being Romulus where he and his brother just shared the mind and looked through the same eyes, they were in a room. Two chairs in front of a big screen and a control panel. It had been a little odd. But not bad perse so he’d let it slide. Maybe Patton just liked it like this. He didn’t mind. Simply wasn’t used to it yet.

Not that he had to get used to it. This was a one-time thing after all.

When they unfused Logan had been ecstatic. Already asking Patton so many questions about how it had felt and set up a meeting for them to fuse as well so he could witness it first hand.

Remus was dismissed with the wave of a hand. Leaving the room confused and not feeling quite right.

- 

They had fused again after a few days. Patton coming to him with a smile and an offer to try it again because ‘it felt so funny! didn’t it? I think you’re my favourite person to fuse with Remus!’

And Remus couldn’t have known that Patton had only tried it with Logan. Remus couldn’t have known what ‘letting Patton steer the ship’ for a while could have let too.

They were fused the whole day. And inside the room, Remus had sat back. Patton needed time to learn how to properly control their body. And, as he already had experience with fusing with Roman, he let him figure it out, repressing the odd feeling that came with not being himself.

And when they unfused in the evening, Remus too tired to do anything else than simply plop on his bed and fall asleep, Patton said goodbye and that they should do that again sometimes.

A few weeks later and they were barely unfused. 

They only separated when it was time to go to bed. Too tired to do anything else and slowly forgetting how to do anything else but sleep and wake up to Patton knocking at his door.

One of the two chairs in the room had disappeared. Remus never sitting on it.

Instead, he said in the corner of the room, trying to ignore the feeling of his limbs moving and touching things even if he sat still himself. Trying to ignore the feeling of their body eating and talking and communicating while he was silent.

 At first, he had been trying to pitch into their decisions. But after Patton had made them rip apart the octopus plushy that Roman had gifted his brother on their birthday, threatening to destroy more of his precious belongings if he didn’t work with him, he had settled down.

Remus now barely moved when they were fused. Arms wrapped around his legs, staring blankly at the opposite wall, trying to tune out the sensations and sounds. Trying to not look at himself being so…not himself.

A few months had passed and Patton made their body lay down onto Remus’ bed every time they unfused because Remus couldn’t remember how to move his limbs without somebody else doing it for him

-

When Logan walked up to them after three months of nonstop fusion, Remus had lifted his head to look up at the screen for the first time in weeks.

“Hey, Pathos.” He disliked that name. But Patton had picked it for them and arguing had only led to Virgil’s old jacket, which he had used as a comforter for when everything got too much, being burned right in front of their eyes. Remus not even having a chair or the power to do anything but watch, tears streaming down his cheeks. Mouth sealed shut because he wasn’t the one that did the talking.

“I know it’s none of my business but I can’t help but ask, don’t you think it might be unhealthy to stay fused all the time? I know you’ve told me that you get things done easier like this, yin and yang and so on. But I also know that it is easy to lose your sense of self in things like this.”

“Oh Logan, thank you so much for worrying about us,” Patton spoke. Remus had lost the ability to flinch at that point. Simply keeping his head low, his body stiff, staring at the wall opposite of him. It had begun to change colour in the last few days.

“And it hasn’t been easy. Believe me, it hasn’t been. Remus and Patton are very different people after all.”  Remus’ only response was the twitching of his pinky. On the inside, he was screaming, yelling, hoping that Patton had finally seen the error in his ways. 

“Remus really wears on Patton sometimes. With all of his crazy ideas and violent tendencies.” Oh.

“But They’ve found their peace like this. Like me! I think they’re better off like this. And isn’t everything more peaceful now that Remus is under control? Don’t you think it’s better this way?”

Logan looked taken aback by the negative talk towards one of the components of the fusion. Though he didn’t comment on it. Simply nodding, shrugging it off and going about his day while Remus was left in the room with Patton. Trying not to listen to the moral sides thoughts in his head. Trying to get them away from his own. Trying to not think.

Patton just walked them to a mirror. Staring right at it before he spoke.

“You really thought he was going to help you? They know you’re wrong Remus. And if this is the only way for me to keep you away from them then I will carry that burden with pride.”

No. He hadn’t wanted to be free. He hadn’t. Because that would be bad and he wasn’t bad. He wasn’t- “You can’t lie to me, Remus. Or did you forget that I can hear your thoughts as well?”

Remus turned his head again. Retaking his staring contest with the wall opposite of him.

The wall was getting patchy. spots of green and blue interrupting the evenly coloured cyan wall like the wallpaper was coming off.

-

The fusion got more unstable. With Roman coming up to them to confess that he missed his brother and Virgil crying during a panic attack because he wanted Patton to comfort him but the idea of Remus being there too made his skin crawl.

Logan had begun to figure out what he thought was going on. Pathos seemed too put together. Too nice and cheerful and pg to have them both equal parts controlling him. He didn’t swear. Didn’t make a mess, didn’t do anything like Remus but rather was just a slightly more excentric and charismatic version of Patton.

And that night Remus hung above the toilet. Retching as wave after wave of sick clattered into the toilet bowl. The memory of Patton controlling their body to flirt with his brother making him physically ill. A new wave of bile rising up at the memory of how he had them smile of the thought of Pathos with his brother. Of how Patton’s thoughts about his brother had mixed with his own. Of how uncomfortable Roman had looked until nothing but stomach acid was left and his throat stung and the taste of sick had to be washed away with mouthwash.

The wallpaper was peeling more each day. The corner opposite him now almost fully green and blue. 

Virgil had avoided touching them. Stopping his hushed conversations with Logan each time Pathos walked into the room. Eyeing them with suspicious than slowly grew into anger. And Remus felt one of the last strings that attached him to the others snap when they cut up his usual outfit that night. Patton’s anger and sadness at making his best friend this upset coursing through him. Feeling the self hate and hate for him rip at his chest as the sash was cut to pieces. The eye attached to the outfit ripped off and stomped on.

He wasn’t sure which were his own feelings anymore.

The wallpaper was halfway off now. Green and blue replacing Cyan walls. Remus focused on the green parts and silently wished for freedom. When Patton threatened to drown his pet rat he numbed the thoughts until only Patton’s own remained.

Deceit hadn’t spoken to them for an entire month. Though he and Logan were together a lot. Always talking or holding up papers. Always quieting down when they entered the room.  When Pathos had confronted Deceit and had wanted to judge him for not communicating with them and say that he could at least be civil, Deceit had actually hissed at them.

“I’m not speaking to you until you give me my friend back Patton.” 

Remus had cried that night. Patton having left him on the bed as always. Unmoving. Unresponsive to the almost freezing temperature in his room and the fact that he couldn’t use his blanket to get warm because it had been ripped to pieces.  He laid there the entire night. Tears simply streaming down his face as he stared at the wall he was facing. The grey colour of it a nice change to the usual green and blue that had completely taken over the room.

Unmoving when Patton broke his mirror the next morning when they fused again and he had felt tired and cold.

Roman had begun to look at them strangely. His expression was so sad that Remus could feel the hurt from where he was sitting. His brother had stopped talking to them all together after the conversation they’d had. Remus had gotten enough of his willpower back from hearing his brother begging them to un-fuse, to please have his brother back, to finally take action.

They were having dinner when it happened.

Pathos had called all the sides to the dinner table. Wanting to spend some time with all of them because ‘we never talk any more kiddos!’

They were holding the pot of spaghetti, about to put it on the table when they froze.

Virgil cursed loudly when the hot spaghetti dropped onto his lap and arms. Though cursed even louder when he looked to the side and saw the pot lying on the ground and next to it, gripping their head and slowly being consumed by light, was Pathos.

“Stay together! I’m not letting you leave!” A voice, sounding more like Patton’s then the one they had gotten used to coming from the ball of light. All of the sides having jumped up, Logan and Deceit ushering the other two back. Holding their arms out protectively.

“It’s better like this! We’re better like th-” “No!”

And with Remus’ voice, hoarse and terrified sounding, echoing through the room, one silhouette split into two.

And there were Patton and Remus. Patton quickly jumping up from his place on the ground and staring down at Remus with fury in his eyes. His usual outfit on like always. Fists bawled, teeth gritted. Furious.

Patton was about to open his mouth to say something to Remus when he was stopped by a hand gripping his arm. He whipped around to see Logan shake his head. Holding back Deceit, Virgil and Roman with his other arm. The three of them looked ready to kill.

“Go,” Logan said simply. It wasn’t comforting. Wasn’t even a warning. No, with the cold tone and cold eyes and arm holding back the other three it sounded more like a threat than anything else.

Because Remus didn’t look well.

Remus lay curled up on the ground. Not having moved a muscle since they un-fused. Arms around his legs and head bowed down slightly. Eyes staring at something they couldn’t see. Wearing an old t-shirt and joggers instead of his usual outfit. Muscle mass almost completely was gone.

Roman’s vision what white with anger, breath uneven and harsh as he tried to calm himself. Deceit was visibly shaking and Virgil had run out of the room as soon as they knew for sure that Patton had locked himself in his own one. Logan was frozen in place for a good few seconds, snapping out of it as soon as Roman rushed passed him, dropping down to his knees next to his brother.

“Remus? Remus, it’s me! Can you hear me?”

The only response he got was a tear slipping from his brother’s eye. No movement. Rising and falling of his chest the only thing moving his body.

“What the fuck did he do to you…?” Came Deceit’s whisper, coming to sit next to Roman on the floor and lifting Remus’ head up slightly to lay it on his lap.

When Deceit began to carefully card his fingers through grimy hair Remus’ pinky twitched.

“He’s getting back his responses. Keep going.” That was Logan, kneeling down at Remus’ feet and putting a hand on the side’s ankle to show that he was here.

Another twitch.

When Roman carefully wrapped his arms around his brother and leaned his head onto his arm Remus did a full-body shiver and his gaze dropped.

Remus moved his hands. And after repeating the same gestures a few times Logan realised that he was using sign language. “He’s signing your name Roman.” And Roman burst into tears.

“Yes! Yes, Remus, I’m here! We’re all here okay? Logan, Dee, all three of us are here for you okay?”

‘Deceit?’ he signed

The ghost of moralities thoughts swirled in his head. Mixed together with his own so much so that he didn’t know which were his own anymore.

A part of him said Deceit was bad. Evil, wrong, bad, snake, liar.

Another part wanted to simply be held by his long term friend and short term crush. Wanted to be comforted like he would have been had none of this happened.  Wouldn’t Deceit have seemed scared to touch him like he would break if he did something wrong.

‘Tired,’ is what he signed instead of the thousands of words he’d been wanting to say. And the three of them seemed to understand.

So Logan picked him up. And Remus tried to ignore the panic that shot through him at being touched so suddenly. Tried to ignore the feeling of wanting to be closer and of knowing that he also felt something for Logan because that would be too complicated. 

And when they entered his room he tried to ignore his twisting stomach when all three of them gasped. Deceit insisting he tells them what had happened. Why it looked so empty.

‘He made us destroy it. Had to behave.’ He signed. Happier than anything that he had taken the time to learned to sign a few years ago.

“He…what?” “What is it? What did he say?” Roman pressed Logan, the logical side carefully laying Remus down in his bed, summoning a blanket that was clearly his own and putting it over the creative trait before answering the question. Looking at Deceit and Roman, a frown carved into his face.

“He said that Patton made them destroy his belongings so he would behave.” “He WHAT?!” Deceit roared. And the lump on the bed jumped at the loud noise. 

“I’m going to tear that fucker apart!” “Deceit wait! That wouldn’t do him any good right now,” Logan tried to argue. Trying to calm down the fuming Deceit.

It seemed to help a bit. Dee sitting down on the bed next to Roman and holding his head in his hands while Logan summoned a comb and slowly began to work through the knots.

For now, they just had to make sure Remus was alright, Deceit decided. He’d get Patton back for this eventually.

 -

The aftermath of the abuse (because Logan had said, that’s the only way to describe this,) was heavy.

Remus had to learn how to move on his own again. Seemingly having completely forgotten that he had to move his own limbs after such a long time of not being in control. 

Logan had, after a long conversation with Remus where not a word was spoken, reported back to the other two to tell them that his muscle mass had declined so much because he had barely moved, if at all, in the last few months.

He had to learn how to walk again. They got him crutches once he could properly lean on his arms again and watched him hobble around the new common room.

Patton had moved his room to another part of the imagination. If he was too ashamed or too stubborn they didn’t know. They still made videos together. But Remus never showed up. Leaving Deceit to fill in his place. He and Patton were never in the same video and the conversations Patton had with the others were short and harsh. 

Virgil was indecisive. He and Remus had never gotten along. But as soon as Logan had told him what had happened he felt sick every time he saw Patton.

So Virgil moved to the grey. The neutral part of the imagination where nobody ever went to and that nobody could find unless you weren’t looking for it. He came by on occasion. Talking with Logan or Roman, bickering with Deceit. But it wasn’t quite the same as it had once been.

Roman and Deceit both went and taught themselves sign language. Roman wanting to be able to communicate with his brother once they had realised that he seemed to have completely forgotten how to speak and Deceit wanting to be there in any way possible.

Remus was able to walk again after a month of practice. Wandering around the living room and swinging along gently when music played.

He worked out together with his brother. His strength returning slowly until he was able to enter the imagination again to go on a quest together with Roman.

He grew closer to Deceit as he had ever been. When they finally decided to put a label on things it had felt natural and nothing had changed.

Half a year later and Remus admitted to having fallen for Logan as well. Tears streaming down his face and fingers shaking as he signed the message. 

And Deceit had hugged him and kissed his tears away. Telling him that it was alright and that they could figure this out. And after a month or two Deceit announced that he wouldn’t mind Logan joining their relationship. Roman just happy for his brother and his friends and baking them a cake for the occasion.

And not everything was alright.

Remus wore soft sweaters and leggings. Refusing to put on the outfit Roman had remade for him. 

And they never baked and made a mess of the kitchen while loudly singing Disney songs at 10 am again because the ghost of the thoughts was still present and he refused to make any noise before he was certain everybody was awake. Never sat on the couch together to watch crappy horror movies and laughing at how terrible the special effects were because the voice of Patton was scowling at him that these people had put effort into this movie and ‘why would you mock something like this when everything you create is so much crueller?’ Never danced in the living room to Panic! at the disco, with energy so high it could match Patton’s when he had too much sugar because his mind told him that acting like that was foolish and a waste of his brothers time. 

He didn’t speak his mind like he had done before. Only said what was necessary. No vulgar or odd thoughts. No weird or exciting ideas. Nothing because he had been convinced that it was wrong. That he, his whole nature, his whole being, was wrong.

Remus understood then that Patton didn’t fuse with him because he liked it or wanted to help him. Morality wanted nothing more than to break him.

But life went on and healing was a slow and painful process.

When, after nearly a year of silence, Remus spoke his first words, his boyfriends and his brother had hugged him close while crying happy tears. 

And when, after nearly a year, his brother invited him for movie night again he had agreed.

And when, after nearly two years, he didn’t flinch anymore when somebody made a sudden gesture towards him nobody said anything but he knew they noticed.

And when, after nearly two years, the voice in his head that wasn’t his and the thoughts that weren’t his own began to quiet down, he didn’t say anything. Though his boyfriends noticed that he slept better. And his brother noticed that he spoke his mind from time to time.

And when, after nearly two years, he was dancing to Panic! at the disco in the living room with energy so high it could match Logan’s when talking about the stars, he felt that, though nothing would be the same again, though nothing would ever be quite whole again, he might be able to be okay again.

-

So Uhm… Here ya go?  This was extremely heavy even for me so I’m sorry I guess?  A very quick thing for all the Patton stans that are gonna come for my chins after this: I love him a lot. I love all of them a lot. I just, at the moment, think unsympathetic Patton is interesting to write.

Anyways. Hope this is kinda what you imagined Lance? Yeh. Okay. Bye.

-

Idk if I should put my taglist (I’m gonna but I hope y’all are mindful of the warnings and tell me if you wanna be excluded from heavier stuff/ removed.)

Taglist: @purp-man @crazycookie13o @deceitifullies101 @sapphire-knight @ragingdumpsterfiremess @chronophobica @lance-alt

[cabinofimagines]

Can I kiss you? (Leo Valdez xFem!Reader)

A/N: Wassup I’m back uwu college ripped a part of my soul but hey, Leo can always fix it, right? -Danny

Requests: Can you pleaseee do another leovaldez x hispanic reader!! I really love the first one ♥️// Oh my gosh I love your work, so I was wondering if you could do a Leo Valdez x reader where the reader is Percy's sister and her and Leo are best friends, and she constantly gets bullied by Drew bc she’s latina and Percy defends her but she gets really sad about it and Leo tries to figure out why. So like a protective/comforting  Leo imagine? I know this is long and probably confusing but I feel like you’ll do a great job.

Words: 1,296

Warnings: maybe slight racists comments coming from Drew? The random cursing, and uh, spanish lmao 

She was doing it again. 

Drew, she was making fun of my accent. Which is not so bad, I know it cause I’ve lived here for a really long time, practically my whole life. My accent is just fine. Drew is evil, and for some reason, she decided I was her favorite target, so this is the kind of shit I have to deal with every day.

Today was different, though. I was definitely not in the mood, my head hurt after a bad night of sleep and my arms were sore from all the training.

“Drew, can you move?” I mumble tiredly after finishing my sword training, “My water bottle is there...”

“Sorry, your what?” She smiles innocently, “Y/N you need to speak up, I barely understand what you’re saying”

“Come on, Drew not now,” I try to reach for my bottle but she gets in the way, “are you serious?”

“Y/N, I’m just trying to help you,” She puts a hand on her chest, “if you never get to speak properly people will never take you seriously.”

“You’re the only one nagging about it,” I reply, “leave me alone and move out of my way!”

“What is going on here?” Percy notices my demeanor and quickly approaches, “Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” I lie.

“It’s all okay, Jackson,” Drew raises a brow, “I’m just giving some... advice.”

She walks out without even looking at me, her friends following close.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” Percy puts a hand on my shoulder, “I know Drew can be a pain in your ass most of the times”

“I just need a nap, I’ll be fine” I shrug, gently pushing his hand away, “don’t worry about me, okay?”

I walk away, not noticing Leo coming from the other side of the arena.

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

“Hey, Y/N!.. Y/N?” He walks up to where Percy is and nudges his arm.

“What’s up with your sister?”

“Drew,” Percy sighs, “she was probably making fun of her again, I can’t tell didn’t get there fast enough”

“Is she okay?”

“She says she is, but to be honest, I think she’s fed up about it, maybe I should go talk to her...”

“I’ll do it,” Leo offered quickly.

Percy gave him a funny look, he kinda had the feeling that Leo had a crush on his sister, but he wasn’t going to mingle in their business.

“Sure,” He gives him a small smile, “I hope it goes well.”

“Don’t worry, man, I got this,” Leo winked at him, making his way over to cabin 3. 

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

I kick off my shoes and lay on my bed face-down, not wanting to know about the world outside my cabin for at least the next two hours. When I hear the door opening and closing I figure it must be Percy, trying to make sure I am really okay, so I speak up in a tired voice.

“Prissy, I’m fine. Please just let me sleep...”

“Buenas, buenas,” I hear a voice that is nothing like my brother’s but that I know too well, “How’s the sea monster doing today?”

“Leo,” I grin, turning to a side so I can see him, “you can’t be here, you know it’s not allowed”

“Oh, so now you’re playing by the rules?” He raises his eyebrows, “that’s new.”

“Shut up,” I throw him a pillow that he easily avoids, “I’m not in the mood for your teasing, I just need a nap.”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” He scratches the back of his neck, “Drew, right?”

“Drew. What a pen...” I stop mid-sentence, deciding to keep the word to myself, “you know, I was about to offend her with a really strong Spanish word, but I don’t think she’s even worth it.”

“Que alma tan amable...” He says teasingly. (Such a kind soul)

“What can I say? Asi me hizo mi mamá,” I wink, returning the smile. (That’s how my mom made me)

He laughs and sits beside me, starting to play with my hair.

“No, but really,” He adds in a careful tone, “are you okay?”

“Is not like I’m not used to it,” I sigh.

I move to my left a bit so Leo can fully sit on the bed, but he decides to lay next to me. Both of us are now facing the ceiling 

“Today it was just bad enough without her stupid remarks, I think I’m just sensitive cause I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“I see,” Leo nods, brushing his hand slightly against mine, “should we take a nap, then?”

“Si!” I pout, leaning my head against his shoulder, “you’re the best.”

“Asi me hizo mi mamá,” He mocks, using the same words as me.

I laugh, looking up at him.

“Thank you for coming to make sure I was alright,” I whisper, I can see all the freckles on his face now, and I would gladly spend my whole life counting them if I could.

“Hey, you’re always there for me when I need someone to talk to,” He frowns slightly, “what kind of best friend would I be if I weren’t there for you?”

“A shitty one,” I giggle.

“A crappy, bad friend,” He replies with the same playful tone.

“Totally not worth my time,” I scrunch up my nose, raising my hand and gently stroking his cheek.

“Boring to hang out with,” He continues, looking at me with a strange glint in his eyes.

He reaches up for my hand and holds it still, smiling at the contact. I don’t try to move it away, it’s weird how comfortable I feel on his arms, like this is where I should be at all times. Part of me always thinks about it, not gonna lie. But today...

It feels like he might think about it too.

“You know,” He rubs small circles on the back of my hand, he’s never been able to keep his hands still even for one moment, but that’s somehow reassuring, a reminder that he’s real, and he’s with me, “I’m glad to know those are all lies, and that you think I’m worth your time.”

“You’re getting sappy about it?” I smile softly.

“What now? I know I’m usually the class clown but dammit I’m allowed to get sentimental,” He complains and after I let out an honest laugh, he adds, “especially if it’s about you”

I freeze instantly, opening my mouth to speak but being unable to ask what I wanna ask so badly.

“You should, uh- we should try to have that nap,” He offers, blushing madly after his latter statement, “cause you’re tired, and I’m tired, we don’t want to start saying nonsense because of our weariness, right? I mean-” 

“Leo,” I interrupt.

“Yes?” He asks in a panicky voice.

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyes widened for a second, but I was surprised to see the certainty on his face when he finally answered:

“Yes. Please, kiss me.” 

I lean over, Leo gently cups my face with the hand that was holding mine moments ago and pulls me closer. 

When we finally kiss I forget everything. Why was I so upset before, when I could’ve been kissing Leo instead? Our breathing is in sync, I have my eyes closed but I can tell he’s smiling against my lips. When we break apart, he’s beaming.

“What was that for?”

“I think I’m just happy to have you in my life,” My heartbeat is so loud on my ears I could swear Leo can hear it, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“I’m happy to have you too,” He chuckles, leaning and kissing me once more, this time deepening the kiss.

Oh, how fast happiness found me today.

[thebestestboyo]

How Remus Started Working For Patton: Part Six

Masterpost

Heads up! As the new episode came out and we have a name for our favorite snakey snek boi, I will eventually lead his revealed name into this fic, but not immediately. This is for the sake of the story, so thank you for understanding!

Tw: Remus being Remus/Swearing/Guns/

He really needed to get a different job.

Remus loathed this office and everyone in it with every fiber of his being. And that was a lot of fibers. How many exactly? He wasn't exactly sure but it was up there. Somewhere...

He pondered this over the sandwich he was eating, having not had breakfast yet due to his sudden apperance at Roman's earlier. At least it wasn't loud like last time, Kathy, the resident hard-ass would have ripped him a new one if it was. It was just one of the many things he hated about this place.

The stuffy atmosphere or the equally stuffy co-workers would have probably been in the top five reasons why he hated it. How could they just sit there and do work quietly? Especially when it was paperwork! Who does that??

The parties were the worst. Free food was great, but considering his company was pretty high up there in the social ranks, the food was boring as hell. It was just fancy finger foods and dry-ass desserts at the big galas, without any extra spices or anything in them. Where was the spice? The flavor? He knew most of the scmucks working there were white but god couldn't they add in something other than salt?

He couldn't get another job that had this stability though, unfortunately. Mama had always told him he would have been a good artist, but she didn't know how hard of an industry it was to get into. With Roman already...struggling, he couldn't. So what if he was stuck in this crappy office job? He'd get out one day.

Maybe.

All of this sad daydreaming was starting to get to him. God he was starting to act like his brother! And as much as he loved Roman, he was a tad too...PG at times. Knowing him he probably fainted at the sight of pretty-boy-Logan.

A clamor seeming to come from downstairs interrupted his mood, causing the usual quiet of the office to become almost deafeningly loud. The bang of gunshots firing experimentally ricocheted off the walls, and it wasn't even on their floor!

Remus didn't even have time to ponder the reason before a flood of what appeared to be gang members burst through the door, bandanas up to their eyes as if they came out of one of those old-timey westerns. This certainly was more exciting sitting and doing paperwork!

"All of you! Get on the ground, this is our terf now!" Some guy in the front pointed his little pea-shooter around, daring someone to object

His co-workers to no surprise, did as the man asked, a couple of them quivering in fright.

Remus on the other hand, hadn't finished his sandwich, and he wasn't going to stop just to lie on the ground. They could at least let him finish before he has to start listening to bargaining terms or whatever they wanted.

"Hey you! Get down on the ground!"

Mama didn't raise no fool, but she did raise a stubborn-ass kid. "Can I finish my sandwich first? I'm eating the chocolate hotsauce part right now and if I don't eat it all at once, the bread gets soggy."

"Wha- I said get on the ground! I don't care about your crappy sandwich!"

This guy was nuts! And coming from Remus, that was a lot!

"But the ground makes it harder to eat the sandwich! And I might puke all over your guys' shoes if I have to eat like that!"

Maybe it was because Remus was too cocky for his own good, or the fact he'd spent several hours talking to gang members of an actually acknowledged and dangerous gang, but for some reason, he didn't care.

"How are you going to puke on our shoes if you're over there???"

"Projectile vomiting. I learned how when I was twelve!"

Wait...what was that? Maybe it was the terrible mix of things Remus had put on his sandwich, but he could have sworn he saw a flash of blue and yellow. Sorta like the sigil that Pat and Dee used...

"That's...that's nasty." The head honcho looked disgusted for a moment, before getting back to the task at hand. "But you still need to get to the ground, or I'll shoot!"

He was pretty sure it wasn't a trick of his mind...there it was again! Was that...wait what was Dee doing here...?

"I'll give you till the count of three man!"

He couldn't exactly tell, but it seemed like he was trying to pick the lock on the door. The other gang probably locked it in case the police came in. It looked like he had some of the Anacondas with him too, but why?

"One..."

Oh shoot he was counting now? Wait what was he supposed to do again? Dee must have seen the look on his face or something, because he doubled his efforts getting the door open.

"Two..."

He had gotten distracted by everything happening that he wasn't exactly sure what this guy wanted anymore. Was he supposed to put his hands up? Lie down? Throw his sandwich?

"Thr-"

"Ree!"

The guy at the front was knocked out cold, Patton standing over him with a baseball bat in his hands. He was wearing a mask, but Remus knew that voice anywhere.

Pat was here too???

Apperantly so, as he rushed across the office to crash into Remus, holding him around the middle. At this point Remus forgot entirely about everything else in favor of Pat.

"Remus that was dangerous! You could have gotten hurt!"

"Patty, you just hit someone with a baseball bat. I'm pretty sure you could have gotten hurt too."

"But you were the one he was aiming at! You need to be more careful!"

Squeezing him closer, he took a glance at the man lying on the floor, and the Anacondas who had already tied up the rest. "Considering you're here, I think I'll be ok."

"But-"

"Hey. Frogger has to get going before the cops get here, so please hurry this up? We know Remus is stupid, but still." Dee cut in. He had a terrible habit of doing that just when Remus really wanted to kiss Pat.

Sighing, Pat squished Ree's face, his eyes serious. "Don't get yourself into trouble you can't get out of. I'll talk to you later, don't you forget I'm mad!"

He couldn't help a small smile at that, even if Pat was trying to be threatening. "Alrighty, I fully expect to be yelled at. Now go! I'll be fine."

A quick ruffle of his hair, and the Anacondas (and Frogger, which was apperantly Pat's code name?) were out, the cops arriving not too long after.

Now, this would usually result in all his co-workers asking why the fuck he was talking domestically with the other, probably more lethal gang members, but luckily for Remus, Dee seemed to have taken care of that by knocking them all unconcious. Unconventional, but it worked! He pretended he too was waking up after being clocked with a glock, and hiding the smile on his face at getting to see Pat.

It was certainly more interesting than doing paperwork!

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner One Shot: Growing Pains

Intro: No matter how much you want them to, your kids don’t stay kids forever…

Warnings: None, just a bit of bad language and Katie embarrassing Steve to shit!

Takes place in the SSB universe, November 2022.

“Mom.” Emmy’s voice was soft and Katie instantly looked up from her laptop. “Where’s Dad?” “He’s gone for a run, well as much of a run as he can with Jamie hanging off his back.”  Katie said, frowning slightly as she saw her fifteen year old daughter wasn’t dressed for school “Is everything ok? I can call him.” “No, it’s fine. It’s you I wanted to talk to.” she said, hovering from one foot to the other. “I err…”

She looked down at her feet, a huge flush on her face. Katie closed her laptop and stood up. “Em?” “I think I, well, no I know I err… I started my period and…” “Oh sweetie.” Katie chuckled slightly as she wrapped the girl into a hug “I’m not gonna lie, being a woman sucks at times but other times it’s kinda cool.”

“Cool?” Emmy frowned.

“Yeah, boobs.” Katie said, gesturing to her chest “They tend to fascinate most men.”

Emmy gave a low chuckle before she bit her lip. “I err, I got some on the sheets.”

Katie smoothed back Emmy’s hair and shrugged “It’s no big deal. Look, why don’t you go have a bath, I’ll sort your bed and then we’ll sit and watch shit on TV all day. I can stay home.”

Emmy nodded eagerly “Snacks?”

“Dur.” Katie said, following her up the stairs. Emmy retreated into the bathroom, whilst Katie found her some pads before she stripped the sheets down and headed to the utility room at the side of the kitchen that held their washing machines and dryer. She was just turning the machine on when the door opened and Steve stepped in, Jamie on his back, giggling away. Steve’s face was red from the brisk November air and the part of Jamie’s cheeks which were visible from beneath his hat and above his scarf were also tinged pink a little.

“Laugh it up, pal.”  Steve shook his head, as he bent down so Jamie could slide off his back “That’s the last time I’m taking you.” “You said that yesterday, and the day before.” Katie smirked, taking the kiss he offered, ignoring Jamie’s noise of disgust “You love it.”

“Hmmm.” Steve made a non-committal noise in his throat “Any breakfast going or shall I start some?” “Go get a shower and I’ll make it. We can eat together when Emmy’s sorted.”

Steve frowned “Shouldn’t she be on the bus?”

“She’s not feeling too good.” Katie said, “I told her I’d stay home with her.”

Steve’s frown deepened as he shrugged off his running jacket. “She ok?” “Yeah, nothing a day in front of the TV and a blanket can’t fix.” Katie said, giving him a significant look. As ever it took him a while to cotton on, but when he realised what she was saying, Katie really had to bite back the laugh as his face rearranged itself into a look of surprise, which flickered to pure dumbfoundedness as he struggled for a reply.

“Don’t worry, I got it.” Katie grinned, patting his chest.

“Momma?” a voice came from the kitchen and Katie turned to face Jamie who was stood by the fridge “I hungry.” “Yeah, I’m gonna start breakfast now baby.” she smiled, “Eggs and toast ok?” “Nomm!” he said, grinning as he padded over to the table and pulled himself up into a seat. Steve had to give a snort, without his seat he could barely see over the top of the table. He made his way over, lifted Jamie easily with one hand causing the boy to cackle before he replaced him back on the booster and scooted him closer.

“That better?” he asked, dropping a kiss to his son’s head.

“Fankoo daddy.” he grinned.

“You’re welcome kiddo.” he said straightening up. He turned to Katie “I’m gonna go shower then I’ll come help.”

Katie waved him away with a smile. He took the stairs two at a time and headed into their bedroom. If he was honest he’d been shitting himself about this day for ages. He’d watched Emmy grow up way too fast for his liking over the past few years and now…well he didn’t even want to think about the whole bringing a boy home thing that was going to pop up sooner rather than later he suspected. All he knew was he was thankful for Katie’s level head. He showered quickly, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a red plaid button down ready for his meetings that day and headed onto the landing, just as Emmy was emerging from the larger bathroom wrapped in a robe.

“Hey sweetie.” he said “Your Ma said you’re not feeling too good.”

She shrugged, “Not really.” “Will a hug help?” he asked and she smiled, nodding. He opened his arms and she stepped into them as he gave her a soft but firm snuggle.

“Thanks dad.” she said softly.

“Any time baby.” he said, dropping a kiss to her head “Now I’d go get dressed if I were you, before your brother eats all the breakfast.”

*****

When Steve came back that evening, his girls were pretty much in the same spot they had been in all day. When he asked if they’d moved Katie grinned and pointed out that they were both in clean sets of Pyjamas and Jamie was in bed, so of course they had moved. Although they were getting take-out for Dinner because she couldn’t be bothered to cook and it was Friday after all. With a good natured roll of his eyes he cast one final look at them over his shoulder before he headed upstairs to change, leaving them to watch Love Actually. It was early in the season, not being December until the week after but he knew what they were like when it came to Christmas so he left them to it.

When he came back downstairs they were deep in conversation, so he paused for a moment at the door. He didn’t mean to listen in, but he didn’t want to interrupt. And if he was honest, there was something so pure and innocent about their chat that he simply couldn’t help it.

“You know, I still never forgave Adam Rickman for breaking Emma Thompson’s heart.” Katie sighed as Emmy scoffed.

“Has dad ever bought you a really crappy gift?” she asked.

“No.” Katie said honestly. “He’s very thoughtful. Although the best gift he gave me wasn’t one he bought anyway.” “Your emerald?” Emmy asked, and Katie made a noise of affirmation. They fell silent for a moment before Emmy spoke again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Course.”

“If anything happened to Dad…do you think you’d ever like date again?”

Steve frowned slightly as he heard Katie exhale “That’s deep Em…I dunno. I don’t think I’d ever be able to love another man the way I love Steve. In fact I know I wouldn’t. What on Earth made you ask that?” “Oh, Brooke is trying to get Jen dating.” Em said “but she keeps saying she loves Brooke’s dad too much and I kinda think it’s sad as he’s been dead for years. ” “Yeah, well, the thing is Em when you’re in love, and I mean truly in love, it consumes you. That person becomes as much a part of your life as you are and to lose them like that…well I can’t imagine what a hole that would leave in their place.” Katie said gently.

“Yeah, suppose.” “You’ll figure that out soon enough.” Katie chuckled.

“Was dad your first love?”

“He’s been the only man I’ve ever truly been in love with yes.” Katie replied “For most people a first love and a true love are very different things.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, ok, for instance my first love was a guy called Mikey. My first boyfriend. I wasn’t much older than you, dated him for about twelve months.” Katie mused “I loved him, he was the first guy I ever slept with. Then there was Grant and we don’t talk about him, ever as he was an asshole.”

Emmy gave a snort

“But your dad, well, he was different. We cared so much about each other before we even started dating. I mean, if I’m honest, I loved him way before he even asked me out.” “Who made the first move?” “He did.” Katie smirked and at that point Steve gave a scoff and walked into the room.

“Liar.” “Oh you so did!” Katie looked at him, unabashed he’d been listening “You kissed me after Rumlow’s party. You’d have kissed me before that as well if you hadn’t been such a chicken shit.” Steve rolled his eyes and flopped onto the seat at the opposite side of the coffee table. “You didn’t exactly push me away.” “Dur.” it was Katie’s time to roll her eyes as Emmy snorted “I’d been waiting for you to make a move for months.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at her as the teenager quipped “You were still a bit slow on the uptake back then I see.” “Err, less of your cheek young lady.” he said and she giggled.

“You know the first time we had sex he literally ripped my pants off.” Katie grinned at Steve and he pulled a face as Emmy cackled.

“Jesus, Doll.” he flushed bright red.

“Wasn’t the only time either.” his wife shot back and Emmy’s laughter became louder. “Okay,” Steve stood up with a sigh, shaking his head, not particularly wanting to discuss his sex life with his fifteen year old kid. “I’m gonna get the Thai Menu…”

Katie watched him go before she winked at Emmy and stood up, following him into the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around his waist and nuzzled into his shoulder.

“I love how after all this time I can still make you blush.” “You’re a damned nightmare.” he chuckled as his hands rest on top of hers, using them to pull her closer as he turned to face her.

“But you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.” he said, dropping a kiss to her lips.

****

He didn’t quite rip her pants off that night, but it was still passionate enough to send them both into an orgasm induced sleep almost straight away. But Steve was a light sleeper, not as light as he had been once-upon-a-time as sleeping besides his wife gave him a sense of peace. That said, his super-soldier hearing always woke him should something be out of place, so when he was pulled from his slumber it took him a while to realise that the soft voices he could hear downstairs was the TV. Knowing it could only be one person he swung his legs out of bed and pulled on a sweater before he padded down the stairs.

“Emmy? ”he asked gently as he opened the door to the living room. The teenager looked up from where she was sat, knees tucked up besides her.

“Couldn’t sleep.” she shrugged and his sharp eyes didn’t miss the movement her hand made over her tummy.

“Did you take anything?” he asked and she looked at him. “For the pain?”

“Oh, ”she flushed slightly, “yeah, but it hasn’t worked yet.”

He nodded and headed into the kitchen, putting on the kettle. He made the pair of them a hot drink, stuck the heat-pack in the microwave and then paused as he passed his cupboard. The cupboard where he kept his secret stash.

Well, if this wasn’t an occasion it was called for then what was?

Emmy looked up as he placed the peppermint tea down besides her, passed her the heat pack and then wordlessly produced the Dairy Milk bar from his sweatpants pocket.

“You’re giving me your chocolate?” Emmy looked at him.

“Don’t tell your brother.” Steve said as he sat next to her, flopping his feet up on the coffee table.

She grinned and unwrapped the bar, offering him a piece which he took and shoved in his mouth.

“You’re pretty clued up on all this given you’re like a hundred and five.” she grinned cheekily

“Yeah well, I’ve been with your ma for over ten years so I picked up a few tips.” he shrugged. She took a sip of her drink, rearranged her blanket and then picked up his arm so she could snuggle into him. He gently ran his hand over the back of her head as she got comfortable.

“What we watching?” he asked.

“Bad Boys.” she said.

Steve chuckled “I like this one. That is if I’m not too old to keep you company for a while?” “Nah.” she said, grinning as she dropped a kiss to his cheek. “You’re good.” Katie found the pair of them flat out on the sofa the next morning, Emmy’s head propped up on a pillow resting in Steve’s lap as the solider was stretched out down the long side of the L shaped sofa, fast asleep, arm round his daughter and a huge shit-eating-grin on his face.

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