#the few days that follow being kept busy by the funerals how weird it can feel to have to be the host and organizer in those moments

[justanotherhyperfixation]

obviously: chapter 10

Wille has taken to sleeping with his phone tucked under the edge of his pillow so that if Simon calls him in the middle of the night again, he will feel it vibrate but won’t disturb Evy. This is why, when he wakes to it vibrating in the deep darkness of a January night, he doesn’t even open his eyes, just grabs it blindly, answers the call and says hoarsely, “Simon?”

“Wille, it’s Mamma.”

He props himself up slightly on one elbow and hears Evy shift in bed behind him. “What time is it?” he asks groggily.

He will remember, afterwards, another call that had come at two or three in the morning, when he was much younger, a call from one of his mother’s brothers. They’d still had a house phone, and its ringing had woken Wille up. He had sat at the top of the stairs listening to his mother cry until his father had carried him back to bed.

“Wille, älskling,” his mother says, his question ignored. “It’s - it’s Erik.”

Read the chapter on AO3.

[zenless-popcorn]

Open Letter to Nik The Forge Bear

Dear Nik the Forge Bear and The Boundless Library,

You pride yourself on the fact that The Boundless Library being a safe space for people to be themselves and be supported, because you never had that growing up, but in reality, it's not that at all. It's not a safespace for everyone to be who they are, they can only be who they are if they fit into what are in your opinion acceptable boxes.

Obviously, in the opinion of you and the Mods, my wife didn't fit.

The Mods considered her was too loud, too silly, too chaotic, too open, too opinionated, too weird. Every point Ruby stated against her was, as far as she was aware, dealt with, sorted and over with. Resolved. But then these issues were brought up all over again... it's almost like The Powers That Be there (and yes, this includes you, Nik) were just looking for a reason to get rid of her. She was accused of complaining if she didn't like something, when she was just voicing my opinion. Are differing opinions not welcome in the library? Surely this is how people grow, buy learning from differing opinions and experiences.

She was accused of badgering for content, which she didn't and wouldn't do.There may have been misscommnications as to what commission was being spoken about, as it came over as if mods were talking about the art project, which was not even on her mind at that time, or something else totally unrelated. Granted, she jokingly lamented the lack of communication between yourself and myself after I requested a commission on February 21st (and your lack of response was a tad unprofessional, talking as a content creator, I always made sure people have a response within days...and if it was highlighted that I'd miss someone, I would email an apology and details), but that was it, just a throw away comment, followed up by acknowledgement of your busy schedule and that she wouldn't be making future commision requests as not to add more work, which was then blown out of all proportion by Mods, who alongside 2 other members began dog piling on her all saying the same thing she had already acknowledged.

Oh, that reminds me, please be kind enough to cancel my commission, I'd email you, but I won't actually know if you have recieved it or not when you never reply to them to let your client even know if you have taken on the job, so let’s be honest now what would be the point?

That joke earned her a 24 hour mute, which took place 2 days after her dad died, she was in a very dark place and genuinely did not remember much of that week or the week after, and the Mods were aware of this. Perhaps you should get mods who have better communication skills, and not say things are ok when they are not, or maybe read messages and actually understand them properly.

As an autistic person adapting to change is difficult for her at the best of times, adapting to the seismic shift that was the death of her father, the man who raised her for 10 years when her mother left them, was always there for her (and our family) was beyond comprehension. He was laying in his flat for 24-48 hours before being found, had to have criminal investigations started, had to have an autopsy performed, and by the time all that was done he was not suitable for for us to view him once he got to the funeral home. She kept all that between herself and a few members in a private chat as not to bother the library at large. Because she hates bothering people. She stepped back from "Designated Reviver" role, because she just didn't have the energy.

When the mute was put in place she was dragged over the coals for contacting you directly too much and spoken to like she was scum. She literally reached out for just a hug and support after her dad died. She didn't think it would be as much of an issue as it was. Turns out she was wrong. The only other contact She had made to you was in regards to the art project, or in response to your messaging her. That was when she learned that you do not mean what you say.Yes, she did rage quit, she was angry, scared, upset, and confused as to what exactly she was being punished for when from our perspective it had been dealt with and was no longer an issue. She had talked with Wen, apologised to her taking it out on her and was again under the impression it was over and done with and no longer an issue. She set boundaries to never bother the bear again, ever. She'd already decided to cut your participation on the art project, thus wouldn't have reasons to contact you. She was intending to contact Wen in the next 2 weeks to notify you that your participation was no longer required.The Mods also highlighted the “copyright issue” that was never an actual issue in the first place, but down to another member of the library causing malice. Even though that is resolved, and despite it being a major part of her work, you will be pleased to hear that any artwork that was inspired by your Smirky Bear logo that you may suddenly consider a breach in copyright have been destroyed, so that is now no longer an issue (even thought it wasn’t one in the first place, but with the way attitudes have changed of late I feel this is a better safe than sorry thing).

She got upset during a Zoom call due to being asked to leave and not understanding why and was accused of using it as "an opportunity to garner sympathy" which was not the case and such an accusation is totally out of order, and completely inaccurate. Do you condone your Mods making such harsh accusations of anyone, much less people struggling with complex situations? She was genuinely upset and didn't understand what the issue was. It was not explained to her beyond "your tattoo is promlematic, you need to leave" almost 30 minutes after the tattoo topic was discussed (how does that even work, why wait HALF AN HOUR after a subject is discussed before ejecting someone for something that has been and gone? This makes no sense and also feels like the Mods just building things up so they had an excuse to remove my wife from The Boundless Library), a tattoo she explained the back story to, that it came from a place of care, compassion and support for a tattoo artist who suffered a career ending stroke. Said tattoo artist has spent his life and work reclaiming symbols from negative connotations and teaching about the actual meaning behind them. Absolutely not a hate symbol. And, if you do a little research, you'll find that the name of the symbol means "conducive to well-being" and is one of the oldest symbols of positive energy. Also, being a place of care and support you'd think that you learn about things and no be so closed of mind...to know is to grow. (Incidentally, I have done a lot of research on the World Wars, and I know how people saw the Swastika, but I wasn’t so closed of mind as many, as I researched the symbol, I learned about it during Religious Studies also, and here’s the kicker for you, my RS teacher was an elderly Jewish man, who had numbers tattooed on his arm.I taught me how not to judge people, and symbols. You should perhaps have your Mods do the same.) When she left the Zoom she was under the impression Tara would chat with her the next day and we could figure it out and move on from there, she even considered getting the tattoo covered up, if that would've made people comfortable, that was how much the library meant to her.

She loved the library,She loved the Beasties,She loved you.

She's basically being punished and/or made an example of for having differing opinions, voicing opinions, grieving, having emotions, and not adapting to a major upheaval quickly enough for the mods, and by extension, YOU. Does that sound fair?

From my perspective it was like a lost lil sheep got a bit confused and was trying to get back into the flock, stumbled and fell. Instead of actually helping and supporting the sheep the mods started kicking the sheep, couldn't understand why the scared, hurt sheep wouldn't obey, so instead of backing off and letting the lost lil sheep find its way, they kicked it off a cliff and shouted "land safely!"

YOU let that happen.YOU condoned it.YOU approved of it.

She was only a member for around 8 weeks. Which is no time at all. Not when 4 weeks of that was spent dealing with the business of death.She had wanted to request the ban be rescinded due its total unfairness, being completely unnecessary, was far too heavy handed, and outright bullying, but she has now deleted her Discord account, TikTok account, canceled her Patreon and Quinn subscriptions, and have no intention of rejoining.

What I do not understand more than anything else in all this is that the Mods brought up a whole list of things that had ALREADY BEEN RESOLVED as reasons to get rid of her. That is cruel, callous and underhand. Especially doing it at the time she needed people more than anything else. If it was new incidents, that would make sense, and when Mods say something is fine or they have no issue with a person they should actually mean it, otherwise actually say what the problem is.

She will miss the friends she had made and the fun she had. She really did think she had found her family, her safe space,a place to grow and learn, which she had been doing.You really need to take a long hard look at yourself and the library, and really really think, is the library a safe space for all, or only those who fit into what you consider acceptable little boxes.The place comes over as a total high school clique fest, and is most certainly not as safe or accepting a place as you have tried to make it out to be. Don't worry about her, she'll be fine. She was before she met you, and she most certainly will be after.

She will hold no ill will toward you, but she'll also hold no good will. This is a waste of energy that you do not deserve from someone as awesome as her.Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to help my wife, she has a castle to storm.

Regards

Saire

[duuhrayliegh]

A Friend of Yours - pt. 2

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: reader meets up with Bucky, Sam and Zemo to figure out this Flag Smasher drama

word count: 6386

warnings: canon lvl violence? SPOILERS FOR TFATWS, (it’s the episodes with yn in it, like rlly) language throughout the whole thing, i think that’s it.

a/n: i’m actually really proud of this guys. there is a part three that has WAY more Bucky x YN content that’ll be posted in a few days <3 i hope y’all love this!!

i just want to remind y’all that this started out as a request from @dramaticwittch it won’t let me tag you for some reasons babes :((

be sure to read A Friend of Yours - pt 1

A Friend of Yours - pt. 3 is up too!!!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

check out my other writing here!

xoxo ray <3

You had the same contacts as Sharon, so finding the Three Musketeers was no problem. It baffled you that Sharon had access to satellites. Makes you wonder what she was doing during those five years you were gone. When you got to their safehouse, you were impressed to say the least. It was nice, cute little pillars next to the dining area, some couches, just enough to make it livable. One thing that struck you as strange was that it was also empty, they weren’t there.

“Fuck it.” You dropped your bag onto the dining table and walked over to the kitchen area. You opened several cabinets, searching for alcohol that you could drown your frustrations in. You found an unopened wine bottle, releasing a little cheer, you popped the cork and brought the bottle to your nose. A sweet plum scent invaded your senses, grabbing a glass and pouring it full for yourself before re-corking the bottle. You grasped the cup walking to the stained glass windows on the opposite side of the room. You could hear footsteps approaching the doorway, then the door being forced open. Muffled conversations were taking place during their entrance.

“Well, I got nothin’. No one’s talkin’ about Donya.” Bucky said as he waltzed into the room. Sam followed closely behind him, Zemo immediately going to the kitchen.

“Yeah, Karli’s the only one who’s fighting for them.” You said, startling the pair of men who were now lounging on the couches. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at this?” You dropped next to Bucky, offering him a sip of your plum flavored wine.

“She’s not wrong.” Bucky shot Sam a look, questioning his thought process. “Look, for five years these people were welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbed wire. There were houses and jobs.” Sam sighed, “Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild.” You stopped listening halfway through Sam’s speech, thinking of Sharon. You only refocused when Bucky placed his metal hand on your knee, giving you a look, asking if you were okay.

“That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Bucky asked after you nodded at him. His face never left yours, until Zemo approached the three of you on the couch. He was holding a tray with a clear teapot and cups. He placed it on the coffee table, stepping back and clutching a cup for himself.

“The funeral is this afternoon.” Zemo was always one for the dramatics, so you’re sure that he had something else up his sleeve. Bucky squeezed your knee and you knew he was trying to calm himself.

“You know the Dora’s coming for you any minute. In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.”

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli.” He made a noise of acknowledgement, “I prefer to keep my leverage.” Bucky hauled himself off the couch to stand in front of the Baron. You gaze flicked to Sam’s, unsure of what Bucky was going to do. Bucky puffed his chest out, clenching his jaw as he gripped Zemo’s teacup and chunked it at the concrete wall behind him. Zemo flinched as Bucky began talking to him.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Sam stood quickly, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated.

“Take it easy, Buck. Don’t engage him.” You were taking a drink of your wine, as you observed Zemo’s actions.

“Watch out, he’s going to extort you and do that idiotic head tilt thing.” Zemo’s eyes darted to your figure on the couch as he straightened his head. Sam left to make a call, you assumed Sharon and Bucky followed closely behind him. Zemo offered you cherry blossom tea to which you declined by holding up your wine glass. As Bucky left the room, the Baron released a sigh of relief causing you to laugh at his actions.

“You’re really scared of him, aren’t you?” You teased the man who was now glaring at you.

“If you have made him as angry as I have then you would be too.” You shrugged your agreement. You hadn’t made Bucky mad, and you definitely hadn’t been a part of reactivating him as the Winter Soldier to reach your goals.

“Yeah, well you’re a dumbass, so.” You got up and walked to where Bucky and Sam were gathered. Sam’s phone was still pressed to his ear, but you could tell you were catching the tail-end of his conversation. You could hear Sharon’s voice over the phone talking about the Power Broker. In all your years of living and conducting business in Madripoor, you never tangled with the Power Broker. That didn’t mean anything, it was just suspicious because of how successful your operation with Sharon was.

“What’s the plan?” You asked, dumping the rest of your wine in the sink, casting a glance at an appalled Zemo. “It was shit wine.”

“Zemo has a contact that can show us where the funeral is, and that’s all we got.” You nodded before looking at Bucky and Sam.

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

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

You were walking down the cobblestone roadway with the Three Musketeers when a voice shouted at you from the stairway before you. “Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!” A scruffy looking man approached you. Both him and his partner were clad in tactical gear, the scruffy one’s resembling a Walmart version of Steve’s Cap suit. Bucky spread his arms out.

“How’d you find us now?” The man’s partner responded to Bucky with equal annoyance.

“Come on, man. You really think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” As he got closer you could read Hoskins on his vest.

“No more keeping us in the dark.” Scruff said before anyone else could fire back. He stopped walking in front of Zemo, effectively stopping your forward motion. “You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.” You were walking just behind Bucky to his right and you watched him cock his head back, his voice taking on a sarcastic tone.

“He did that himself, technically.” Scruff’s face contorted as Bucky talked.

“This better be an unbelievable explana--” Scruff’s voice was cut off by Sam’s hand bumping into his chest.

“Hey, take it easy before it gets weird.” Zemo began talking over the group around him, explaining what was going on. You remained quiet, observing the interaction between Scruff and the Three Musketeers. Clearly, the Three Musketeers did not like him and so you assumed he was the ‘new Cap,’ whatever that means. The group began walking again with Zemo leading the pack.

“Alright good, we’ll move in fast. Take her by surprise.”

“No, I wanna talk to her alone.”

“I’m not losing her again.” Scruff was insistent but so was Sam.

“Look, the person closest to her just died, she’s vulnerable.” The group had stopped walking again, focusing on the conversation. You could see the wheels turning in Hoskin’s head as Sam spoke. Scruff was not having any part of what Sam was suggesting.

“What? No. Wait, no! No. Stop. Hold on. Stop, okay?” Scruff ran ahead in front of the others, stopping the forward motion, once again. “I think we’re way past reasoning with her, unless you forgot the fact that she blew up a building with people still in it.” This was news to you, deciding to stay offline in hopes of remaining under the radar. The back and forth continued until Scruff turned to Bucky.

“You gonna let him do this?” Bucky tilted his head at the man. “Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier alone?”

“He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.” You knew Bucky was referring to himself in Winter Soldier mode. Your heart hurt for him to have to go through this again with some clueless nobody.

“And last I checked, he’s a grown ass man who makes his own decisions, Scruff.” Your arms crossed over your chest. This had been the first time you spoke since Scruff and Hoskin’s had arrived.

“Who the hell is this?” Scruff pointed at you. “You break her out of prison too?” Sam interjected before you could sass back.

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay? This is right in my wheelhouse.” Scruff’s gaze hadn’t left your face. He continued staring at you as he countered Sam’s claim.

“Yeah, I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I know this is a bad idea.” Hoskin’s hand came up to rest on Scruff’s shoulder.

“Wait, John. If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.” Scruff was not happy with Hoskin's agreement to the situation. Scruff said something to Zemo, who mostly ignored him, acknowledging the little girl waiting under an archway. The group began moving toward her and you focused on Bucky.

“Hey, you okay?” He just nodded at you, denying you the pleasure of a verbal response. You’ll take what you can get. Bringing up the rear of the group, you entered the factory type building last. The little girl pointed up some stairs, and Zemo translated. Sam walked up behind the girl, making him way up the stairs as Scruff handcuffed Zemo to a metal contraption.

“You got ten minutes. Then we’re doing things my way.” Scruff yelled after Sam, who darted his eyes at you and Bucky, a silent instruction to the both of you. Scruff rested his weight against a table, holding Steve’s shield in front of him. His breathing became increasingly worrisome, an ode to how stable he was in the moment.

“You aren’t looking so hot over there, Scruff.” Bucky shot you a warning look, but it didn’t deter you. “The government is really harping on you to get this shit contained, aren’t they?” Scruff pushed off the table, bringing the shield around his back. You were leaning against a pillar near Zemo and Scruff made his way over to you. His face was about six inches from yours as he spoke.

“Do you know who I am?” He was trying to intimidate you, which clearly wasn’t working.

“Do I look like I give a shit?” Scruff’s eyes darted over your frame, a look of recognition washing over his features.

“I know who you are.” He glanced at the clock across the room before looking back at you. “I could arrest you right now. Enemy of the State, standing before me right here.”

“We’re not in that state, dumbass. Technically, you don’t have jurisdiction.” The corner of your mouth raised in a smirk as Bucky called your name. You pushed off the pillar behind you to stand next to Bucky, who was leaning against the railing of the stairs.

“Don’t antagonize him, Y/N.” Bucky berated you, to which you shrugged a shoulder. Scruff began pacing back and forth, frustration getting the better of him.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Hoskin’s tried to calm Scruff down.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.” He shot a look at Hoskins, then the clock, then Bucky, making a decision in his head. “I’m goin’ in.” Bucky rose to his full height, not allowing Scruff to get by him. “This is all really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins.” You watched Bucky’s jaw clench, you could see the anger bottling up. “Barnes, your partner needs backup in there.” Bucky was an immovable fortress of solitude. “Do you really want his blood on your hands?” Oh shit.

You watched as Bucky’s resolve faded, allowing Scruff to step around him. Bucky was tired of being the cause of other people’s deaths. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust that Sam could take care of himself, he just didn’t want the burden any longer. He was finally free of being a murder machine, finally able to rinse his hands clean. Scruff knew just which buttons to push to get what he wanted.

Scruff busted into the memorial site, guns blazing. You trailed behind Bucky who was fighting against Hoskin’s to try to reach Scruff. Karli and Sam were previously engaged in peaceful conversation, until Scruff announced that Karli was under arrest. Betrayal laced her features as she looked at Sam, defending herself against Scruff advances. She threw Scruff’s weight into Sam, launching them both into the table behind. Bucky took off after her, chasing her through the halls. You crouched next to Sam, making sure he was okay.

Sam recovered quickly, racing down a different corridor leading to another stairway. You followed close behind, allowing Sam to attempt to navigate the area around you. The two of you eventually went down enough of the wrong corridors, that you met up with an equally confused Bucky. You head perked up at the sound of gunshots somewhere in the building. Not sure who the culprit was you turned to Bucky and Sam, who looked just as panicked.

The three of you retraced your steps to find Scruff standing over a knocked-out Zemo with crushed vials wetting the floor. Scruff tossed a glance back at Hoskins and then one to the three of you on the staircase landing. “What did we miss?” Sam directed his question at Scruff, who didn’t dignify him with an answer. Scruff nodded to Hoskins before walking away from the rest of you.

“Thanks for your help, asshole!” You shouted after him.

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

Hauling Zemo’s deadweight back to the safehouse was a job that you and Sam decided Bucky was fit for, being a super soldier and all. Through much complaining and whining on Bucky’s part, he did get him to the safehouse relatively injury free, dumping his body on the couch, jostling Zemo just enough to wake him up. Bucky promptly left the apartment after dropping Zemo off, going to clear his head was the explanation you got as he left.

You huffed, discontent with everything that was going on. You walked to the kitchen, wetting a rag and tossing it at Zemo. “For your head, cover your eyes, it’ll help.” You then popped a few cubes of ice in a glass and poured whiskey over it, handing it to Zemo as well, tapping your temple at him. You went back to the kitchen, jumping onto the counter, letting your legs dangle over the edge. Sam had pulled out a laptop and was typing furiously.

“Were you ever offered it?” You knew Zemo wasn’t talking to you, but to Sam, who hadn’t looked up from the laptop screen. You zoned out of their conversation, trying to decide what Sam was sending Sharon now. “Sam, you can’t hold out hope for Karli.” This made Sam pause and turn to face Zemo, who continued talking. “No matter what you saw in her, she’s gone. And we cannot allow that she and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods amongst real people.” Zemo removed the rag from his eyes, locking gazes with Sam. “Super Soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

“Isn’t that how god’s talk?” You interjected, then you asked quietly, “And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?” It was a valid concern. “Blood isn’t always the solution.” Bucky waltzed into the apartment, stripping his jacket from his shoulders, giving a perfect view of his two contrasting arms.

“Something’s not right about Walker.”

“You don’t say.” Sam quipped, closing his laptop and facing Bucky.

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Shouldn’t have given him the shield.” Bucky jabbed at Sam, sticking to his guns on this.

“I didn’t give him the shield.” Sam was exasperated in his delivery.

“Well, Steve definitely didn’t.” You turned to Bucky.

“Hey. Back off, Buck.” Bucky was going to say something in reply when the door burst open again. In walked Scruff and Hoskins, all gung-ho about something.

“Alright. That’s it. Let’s go.” He pointed a finger at a now standing Zemo. The whole room began shifting, Sam in front of Scruff, Zemo to the side out of direct view, and Bucky to your other side, glass in hand. “I’m now ordering you to turn him over.” Sam stopped before Scruff, annoyed.

“Let’s be clear, shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth.” You added from your spot on the countertop. Scruff pointed his finger at you.

“And I’m taking her too.” Bucky stepped in front of you, blocking Scruff’s view of you. You placed your hand on his left shoulder, letting him know you were still there.

“I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today. We’re gonna need all hands on deck for whatever’s comin’ next.” Scruff puffed out his chest, attempting to intimidate Sam.

“How do you want this conversation to go Sam, huh?” He stepped back slightly, “Should I put down the shield? Make it fair?” Taking on a condescending tone with Sam, making your brows raise. Suddenly a spear lodged itself in the pillar next to Scruff’s face, all eyes darted towards the woman across the room. Two more warriors walked in, holding spears by their sides and Bucky looked resigned. This was new territory for you, who the fuck are these people? One of the women stepped forward near Scruff. She spoke at Bucky in a language that sounded vaguely familiar to you.

“Release him to us now.” Scruff ignored her instruction, deciding to step towards her, holding his hand out for her to shake.

“Hi. John Walker. Captain America.” You scoffed loudly.

“No, you’re not!” You received a look from Sam at your comment.

“Let’s put down the pointy sticks and we can talk through this, huh?” Sam stepped forward, warning Scruff against tangling with the Dora Milaje.

“The Dora Milaje don’t have jurisdiction here.”

“The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.” Your hand balled into a fist, quickly covering your mouth.

“That’s a burn, Scruff!” You yelled like the little shit you are.

“Y/N! Cut it out.” Sam snapped. Scruff, for some reason, thought it was a good idea to place hands on the Dora he was speaking to. She quickly brought her spear up to force his hand off her shoulder, then bringing it downward into the back of his knee and finally bouncing it off of the front of his helmet. She launched her foot into his chest while he was dazed, sending him backward into the spear behind him and face planting on the ground below. Scruff recovered quickly, sliding his arm into the straps of the shield to protect himself from the spear coming at his body.

The three warriors began fighting with Scruff and Hoskins, much to yours and Bucky’s delight. Sam backed up to stand next to Bucky, who crossed his arms over his chest. Sam looked at Bucky.

“We should do something.” You had just barely heard Sam say it when you and Bucky yelled at the same time.

“Looking strong, John!” “You’re doing great, sweetie!” Bucky gave you a look at your term of endearment, not understanding that it was a patronizing use of the word. The warrior battling Scruff was about to drive her spear into him, until Bucky gripped the handle, stopping her attack.

“Ayo!” Bucky yelled at her. “Ayo! Let’s talk about this!” Ayo had effectively yanked Bucky towards her body, then throwing him backwards. Sam stopped another warriors spear before it drove into a downed Hoskins. The last warrior threw her spear at Scruff, trapping the shield against the table. She began her approach to him and Sam yelled your name to help him.

You got down with a groan, unhappy that you had to save this asshat. All movement was stopped when you heard a metallic thud against the floor. Your head snapped to a now one armed Bucky, his vibranium arm laying on the ground. You released an audible gasp as Ayo walked away from Bucky, his blue eyes wide. Everything around you faded as you watched a broken Bucky, kneel to pick up his metal appendage. Your eyes flicked to Sam, who was just as shocked as you.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam gestured to Bucky’s immobile arm.

“No.” He swung his arm around once to restart the systems. You heard Hoskins checking on Scruff’s wounded ego, but that didn’t matter to you.

“Bucky. Are you okay?” He avoided your question, grabbing his jacket and telling Sam that Zemo had gotten away. You held your arms out in front of you, what the fuck? Are you the enemy now? You followed after them, not sure where you were going. You got closer to Bucky, grabbing his left arm and yanking him back to you, making his attention be on you for a second or two. “I’m talking to you, dickwad.” His eyes hardened as you continued. “I don’t know what the fuck just happened back there, I’m assuming that has to do with you not being the Soldier anymore. I don’t really care. What I care about is if you’re okay or not.” You stopped walking, still holding his arm.

“What do you want from me, Y/N?” Bucky inquired.

“I want you to fucking talk to me. I’m here for you to unload on.” His brows scrunched and you realized what you said. “Oh my god, not like that, sicko. Well, I mean--”

“Y/N.” Bucky smiled at your humor.

“There, see? How hard was it for you to smile. Just talk to me. I’m making sure you’re okay. Don’t shut down, I hate it when people do that.” Bucky went to say something else when the both of your attentions shifted to a concerned Sam.

“She said what?” A pause, “Right. Hold on, hold on. I know, I know.” He sighed loudly, “Listen, pack an overnight bag and take the boys.” He tried to calm the other person down. You began walking again, Bucky asking quietly.

“What happened?” Sam dropped the phone to his collarbone.

“Karli called Sarah. She threatened my nephews.” Bringing it back up to his ear, he continued. “Go somewhere safe. Only pay cash, alright? Let me know when you get there.” You turned your attention to your surroundings. The bland streets offered little to no security, but they did give too many vantage points to count. “She wants me to come alone.”

“I’m coming with you.” Bucky fired back, not changing his mind about this one.

“Yay, more friends. She’ll love that. Where we going now?”

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

You’ve never seen Sam as mad as he was when he walked into that building. Although you weren’t sure if it was anger or if it was betrayal that he was displaying as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. “You called my sister? That’s how we’re gonna play this?”

“Sam, I would never hurt her. I just wanted to understand you better.” Her accent shone through with every word. You could tell that she didn’t want to hurt you. Her demeanor was relaxed, her guard was up, but she was being civil, almost like a politician. You were good at analyzing the people around you, so when Karli mentioned Sam and Bucky just being tools she really meant it. She wasn’t interested in hurting people she deemed innocent.

“Hey, Sam, new Cap is moving, looks like he’s found them, or maybe they found him.” Sharon’s voice snapped you back to reality. The two of you hadn’t spoken since you left Madripoor.

“Scruff’s coming, guys and you know it’s not going to be pretty when he does.” Bucky jumped over the ledge and Karli followed suit. Jumping into Bucky, slamming his body into the post. You ran alongside Bucky to the location Sam had sent to your phone. By the time that you had gotten to the building where Scruff was, you had lost Bucky. Taking an entrance that was already knocked open you heard gunshots from a few floors above you. With your gun raised, you scanned the room for any friendlies.

“Y/N, you’re about to come up on Hoskins. He’s not moving, may need an assist.” Your brows furrowed as you entered the room cautiously.

“How the hell do you know that, Shar? How did you get access to satellites?” You questioned as you approached a tied-up Hoskins. “Need some help, Battlestar?”

“I totally had that.” He said as your knife snapped the zip tie around his wrists.

“Yeah, yeah.” You held your hand out, hauling him to his feet. “It’s okay to be the damsel, ya know?” He shook his head at you, not engaging in your hilarious banter. “Jeez, who pissed in your Cheerios.” You shoved your knife back into your thigh holster, leading the way to where the others were.

When you walked in, Bucky had just caught a knife that Scruff had so deflected. He twirled the object in his right hand, ready to defend against the Flag Smasher attacking him. Their fight was quick and ended with the Smasher on their back, the knife Bucky was holding embedded in the floor inches away from their face. You jumped in, helping Sam fend off another Smasher when suddenly Bucky’s fist flew by your face.

“You’re welcome.” He darted off to deal with the others. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Scruff being held by a Smasher and Karli coming with a knife in hand. You started towards her to stop her, until you saw Hoskins attack from her other side. He tackled her to the ground, Karli bounced back quicker than Hoskins, allowing her to throw a punch at Hoskins. Your jaw dropped as you watched his body fly into the concrete mainstay behind him. His whole body slackened and Karli stood in shock.

Scruff was struggling in his captors hold, thrashing about to get to Hoskins. Once he was free, he shook Hoskins and pushed his fingers against his neck, checking for a pulse. “Hey, hey. Hey. Lemar!” You stood silent in between Bucky and Sam, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t until Scruff stood again that you knew what he was going to do. He had a half-second head start, but it was long enough that he was able to reach the Samsher that was holding him back before you could reach Scruff.

You had to push through the crowd to see what was happening. The Smasher had his hands protecting his face against the slam of the Captain America shield that was being hammered into him. You gasped and had to turn your face into Bucky’s shoulder. This is not happening, but it was.

And the whole world saw it too.

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

The next time you saw Scruff was in an abandoned warehouse. He was talking to himself, yelling about different things. If you weren’t sure before, you definitely were now. John Walker had taken the serum and it was enhancing all the wrong things. Scruff was kneeling, resting his hands on the bloodied shield before him. You were on Sam’s right when Scruff walked up to you.

“You guys should see a medic. You don’t look too good.” He paced in front of the three of you. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!”

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John.” Bucky’s voice remained calm. “Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well.” Scruff sent Bucky a disgusted look.

“I’m not like you.”

“You convincing yourself or us, Scruff?” You recognize that this probably isn’t the time to pull his strings but he wasn’t thinking clearly anyway.

“Listen, it was the heat of battle. Okay? If you explain what happened, they may consider your record. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt.” Scruff never stopped pacing, his hand flexing in the shield.

“You gotta give Sam the shield, Scruff.” He stopped pacing and turned to you, getting a little close for comfort.

“Oh, so that’s what this is.” He leaned forward, “You almost got me.” His index finger jabbed into your chest then rested there as he spoke. “You don’t wanna do this.”

“Yeah, we do.” Came Bucky’s reply before all hell broke loose. Bucky and Sam rushed Scruff, fighting for a way to get the shield from him. Scruff sent Sam flying backwards with a swift kick to the stomach. This gave you the room you needed to launch yourself onto his shoulders, attempting to flip him using his own body weight and your momentum. Your move distracted him enough that Bucky got a few decent hits in, but it really just served to piss him off further. He whipped one arm around, gripping the waistband of your jeans and dumping your weight off his shoulders. He threw you into a wooden shipping container, knocking all of the air out of your lungs.

You watch, as you lay there gasping, Bucky get beat to his knees by Scruff and Scruff’s attention is turned by Sam flipping in the air, kicking the shield to the side. You rose to your feet, readying yourself for the opportune moment. Once you found it, you flung yourself at Scruff, sending the both of you to the ground and the shield away from the both of you. You resituated yourself to straddle his stomach, this position didn’t last long because he flipped the both of you. Slamming your back against the ground, he gripped your wrists, yanking them way up high causing you to groan out at the stretch. He released you but not before delivering a swift punch to your cheek.

Your vision blurred, but you could make out Bucky going head to head with Scruff again. Scruff threw the shield at Bucky after kicking him into a lift. Luckily, Bucky was able to catch the shield and shift it to his own arm before Scruff attacked him again. Scruff pressed the shield tight against Bucky’s body, then began speaking to him.

“Why are you making me do this?” You and Sam shared a look then watched as Scruff tossed Bucky clear across the room into an electrical outlet, short circuiting his arm. Sam flew at Scruff, trying to catch him off guard. He was unsuccessful in his efforts, ending with Sam facing Scruff as you crouched in Scruff’s six.

“This isn’t you, John.” Sam began trying to reason with him. He is who is way past reasoning, not Karli. Scruff’s head tilted as he spoke in that condescending tone again.

“We could’ve been a team.” Sam didn’t say anything. He deployed his wings, flying past Scruff and sending a small grappling hook to try and take the shield. Scruff flipped through the air, then braced himself against one of the lifts. You came up from behind him and tackled him off the lift, sending Sam to the ground as well. As you landed, you hit your head on a piece of broken concrete, disorienting you. The shield was out of Scruff’s hands, and he wasn’t happy about that. They both dove for the shield but Scruff managed to get to Sam first, landing on top of Sam.

“I am Captain America.” Scruff grunted out as he ripped Sam’s wings from his suit. You watch in horror as Scruff holds the shield, ready to give Sam a face lift. Bucky knocked Scruff off just before he could land his hit. Scruff had pinned Bucky to the ground after driving Bucky’s head into the side of the shield. You hauled yourself to your feet again, wrapping your arm around Scruff’s neck, hindering his movement. Sam came from the front, delivering a harsh blow to Scruff’s face. You continued to hold your chokehold as Bucky and Sam pried the shield off his arm. You heard a sickening crack as Sam withdrew from the hoe down. Bucky rose to his feet and spit out the blood collecting in his mouth, reaching out his hand for you to take.

You walked over to Sam, you hoped that would be the end of it all. Lo and behold though, Scruff got up yet again. “It’s mine.” He growled possessively, starting towards Bucky again. Bucky ducked lifting Scruff over his shoulder and Sam threw his whole body weight into Scruff who was dangling off to the side of Bucky. The three of them laid on the floor, bloodied and sweaty as you stood over them.

Bucky rose to his knees, the shield in front of him and he used the leverage of it to stand fully. He dropped it next to Sam, pausing for a few seconds and then walking away completely. You stood next to Scruff, in disbelief. “This just got a whole lot more complicated didn’t it, Sam?” He didn’t reply to you, but you watched as he tried to wipe the blood off the outer rings of the shield.

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

You stood outside the building where Donya’s funeral was held, listening to Sam talk to someone else named Torres. Bucky had walked right past you, not a word said. He was shutting down and running away, at least that’s what it looked like. You wouldn’t know because the whore wouldn’t talk to you. You sat down on the stairs, head in your hands frustrated about what was going on. Your phone began buzzing in your pocket, so you took it out ready to deny the call, until you saw who it was.

“Shar.” You sighed into the phone speaker.

“Y/N. How’s it going?” You could hear the smugness lacing her tone.

“Alright, just get it over with. Tell me that you told me so, just make it quick.” She scoffed.

“I mean, I did tell you so, but now I don’t want to tell you that I did.” You laughed at her.

“You realize you just did, though?” You sense that she was smiling.

“What happened?” Her tone switched into a serious one on a dime.

“Walker took the serum, went batshit, killed a Flag Smasher, and then beat the shit out of Sam, Bucky and me in order to keep his precious shield because he ‘is Captain America.’” Your voice morphed to imitate Scruff.

“Well, that was bound to happen sometime. He’s all over the place.” You nodded, pulling the phone away from your ear and switching to speakerphone so you could talk and scroll through Twitter.

“He’s already trending. Captain America Kills Innocent Man, what a great headline. You know the worst part about all of this, Shar?” You switched the speakerphone off, bringing it back to your ear. “I don’t even think that Karli is in the wrong here. She’s doing what she’s doing for good reason, she’s just doing a shit job of getting her point across.”

“Yeah, well she’s becoming a pain in everyone’s asses, so that puts her on everyone’s shit list.” Sharon took a deep breath before continuing. “You need to get out of there. I know you’re not technically in the States, or alive, but you know how the government is. They’ll find a way to get you, if they want you.” She was lecturing you out of love, you knew, but it was frustrating for you still.

“Can you not trust that I know what I’m doing?” A grunt released from her end of the phone. “No, seriously Shar. We grew up the same, went through all the same training, what makes you know so much better than me?” Deep down, you knew that wasn’t what she meant, but you had always felt second best when it came to Sharon.

“It’s not that you don’t know what you’re doing.” She sighed heavily. “It’s that you were gone for five years and things have changed. Governments have become stricter and you don’t understand that they aren’t the same as they were.” You remained quiet, expecting her to say something else. “That’s why it’s good you have me because I know how they work.”

“You know how they work, do you?” You were fed up with her. “Then explain to me how you have access to satellites, Sharon. That’s not something that you just happen upon.” Your tone was accusatory. “Are you working for the Power Broker behind my back?” You heard a sharp intake of air on her end. “I swear to God, Sharon. We promised each other we wouldn’t work for that asswipe. He’s involved in too much bad shit. If the US government were to ever find out that we were working for the Power Broker, they wouldn’t grant us pardons, Shar. Did you fuck this up for us?”

“I didn’t fuck anything up and you need to check your tone when you’re talking to me.” Your brows shot to your hairline.

“The fuck did you just say to me?”

“You heard me. We need to work this shit out. I didn’t fuck anything up and neither will you if you come back to Madripoor right now.” You were shocked, Sharon had never talked like this to you.

“I really don’t think I would be comfortable being somewhere that I’m clearly not welcome anymore, so I’m going to stick with what I know.” Sharon began backtracking as you resigned yourself to being on your own for the first time in forever. “Goodbye, Sharon.” You ended the call and shoved your phone into the pocket of your jeans.

You dropped your head into your hands in defeat. Being on your own was daunting and you weren’t sure how Sharon survived without you well enough to grow your business all on her own. You tried to think of your next move, deciding that sticking with Sam would be your best bet. He’s the easiest to guess where he’s going since Bucky has been mentally MIA towards you.

You recalled Sam mentioning his sister and nephews, thinking he would go there to check on them. You hauled yourself out of your slump and to Zemo’s apartment to collect your things before going. You were going all in if you were going to do this, so why the fuck not?

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

@londonalozzy @marvelofwitch @dramaticwittch @hellmoonsin @jn-wolf @youcancallmeishita @iabrokengirl @veroxloki @liveloudwriteloud @lainternettuale @angelofthetrenchcoats @rosiahills22 @peachymichu @sj-ficrecs @learisa @itsyagirl01 @simply-me-xoxo @ghoststudyy @taina-eny @japanrecs @sinfulhun-collapsedheart @isaordora @shutupstevie @sprsoldierfics @beachbabe925

[tryingmybestpls]

Liability

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, platonic!Sam Wilson x Reader, platonic!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The reader deals with the repercussions of Steve’s actions and death of the three people closest to her.

Rating: R

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, mentions of death, feeling alone, depression, you know the vibes

Bucky and Sam had been put in charge of making sure Y/N Stark was okay. Steve had made them promise on his deathbed that they would look after her. Of course they had agreed, not wanting to argue with a dying man. Sam and Y/N were best friends and well, Bucky had nothing else to do and he wasn't going to disobey his best friend's wishes.

Things were okay for the first month after Steve died. Well, as okay as it could be all things considered.

Bucky and Sam moved into the townhouse that Y/N had shared with Steve to make sure she was okay. It was unspoken agreement between the three of them: they were going to move in since they didn't have any other place to go and Y/N had more than enough room. She had just lost her brother, her best friend, and the man she loves so they expected her to be barely holding on, to be extremely upset-but she seemed okay. Sure there was moments were she would suddenly start crying or days were she wouldn't come out of the room she had shared with Steve, but both men had expected this. Y/N was grieving after all.

Then she told them that she was going to stay upstate with her sister-in-law and niece. Y/N missed them and wanted to make sure they were doing okay. Sam and Bucky thought nothing of this-in fact, they were happy that she wanted to see them. Her face seemed to light up when talked about her upcoming trip and both men thought that being away from the city and with her family would greatly benefit her.

Y/N had given them both a hug the day she left, telling them that she would give them a call when she had arrived at Pepper's. Nothing had seemed amiss as they had helped her fill her trunk with bags.Sam had offer to drive her, but she had insisted that she can drive upstate by herself. Y/N had looked so happy, truly happy when she climbed into the car. She had given them a huge smile as she waved, pulling away from the curb. Both men had felt so relieved, thinking that this was the best thing for her. For the first time after Steve has died, they felt like a weight has been lifted off their shoulders.

Y/N called later in the day when she had arrived at Pepper's. She painted a vivid picture of how excited Pepper and Morgan were to see her, how good it felt to be around her family. Y/N had even said that her and Pepper talked about Tony, which Y/N had said made her feel a lot better, made her feel not so alone. Bucky and Sam were happy and content with her situation, making her promise she'd call again.

For the first couple of weeks, she did call. Y/N always had something to tell them too. Sometimes it was her and Morgan had spent the whole day swimming in the lake or her and Pepper attempted to make some vegan sourdough bread. Y/N always sounded happy over the phone, which made Bucky and Sam think that things were looking up, that she was getting better.

And then the calls stopped.

The calls stopping wasn't an immediate cause for concern. Bucky didn't believe that Y/N, -as a grown woman-needed to check in with them every single day or every single week. Sam wasn't as so optimistic. He knew Y/N and he knew that she kept her promises. Even if she had gotten busy or was doing really good, she would have at least sent them a text. It wasn't like her to go completely dark on them. But he also know it wasn't his place to force Y/N to check in. After all, she was an adult.

And then Rhodey had called.

Sam and Rhodey didn't call each other a lot so when his name popped up on Sam's phone, the Falcon knew that this situation was serious. Sam wished for the best, hoped that Rhodey was just calling about a mission or something have to do with the government.

He wasn't so lucky.

"Hey is everything okay with Y/N? She hasn't been answering her phone." Rhodey questioned, immediately making Sam's stomach drop.

"She's upstate with Pepper. She left a month ago. I thought you knew that." Sam replied, which quickly got Bucky's attention. Bucky stood up a little straighter, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Sam, I'm upstate with Pepper and she hasn't seen Y/N since Steve's funeral." Rhodey quickly responded, following by a sigh and some muttered curse words. Sam felt sick to his stomach, bile rising up in his throat.

Rhodey explained that Y/N had been calling Pepper every day, but the calls stopped a few weeks ago. Rhodey had tried to tell her that Y/N was probably just busy, but Pepper knew something was wrong. So Rhodey had called, trying to ease Pepper's worries. Sam told him that Y/N had said she was going up to go see Pepper and Morgan. Her calls to him having stopped around the same time as her calls to Pepper did.

Y/N Stark had just vanished into thin air.

Sam knew they had to work backwards in order to find out some idea of where she was and that had led them to the closed door leading into Y/N's room. Neither of them had been on the other side of the door. It wasn't their place to go into her room, their room. Yet, seeing that no one knew where Y/N was, they didn't have much of choice.

Bucky and Sam didn't know what to expect when they walked through the white door, but they didn't expect everything to seem so...neat. Everything seemed perfect. The bed was made, clothes were neatly put away. One thing that did seem weird is that all of the pictures in the room were all laying picture side face down on the surfaces they were on. Pictures that were hanging on the walls were covered with a multitude of things-a t-shirt, a pillowcase, or a scarf. While it wasn't an immediate cause for concern, it did make both men feel incredibly uneasy. The pictures aside, everything looked normal and incredibly clean. Not a thing was out of place.

Other than her cell phone, resting on the dresser. The same phone that had been calling both Pepper and Sam.

There's one thing that remains completely consistent with the Starks and that's the fact they are both incredibly smart.

Y/N Stark had been on the run with Steve, Sam, Nat, and Wanda. She was good at hiding, amazing at it. Y/N knew that her phone could be tracked and that they would be able to see what location she was calling from. While Sam wanted to just give her the benefit of the doubt and just pretend she was hiding out on a resort somewhere, he knows better. The fact that she had created a system to talk to both Sam and Pepper using prerecorded responses hinted at something much darker-something that he tried not to think about.

After some digging and pulling some strings, Rhodey and Sam find security camera footage of Y/N buying four different bouquets. They're able to follow her car via the footage to three different cemeteries. Upon visiting each one, the three men find that she had left flowers for her parents, Tony, Natasha, and Steve. Using the time stamps on the videos, they learn that she spent almost an hour at each cemetery, with the last one being the cemetery where Steve was buried. After that, the trail went cold and they were back at square one.

Then her car was found by Rhodey, exactly halfway between the city and Pepper's home, hidden on an old stretch of road.

Every piece of luggage was perfectly in its place, exactly where Bucky and Sam had helped her put it. Her shoes that she had been wearing had been left on the passenger seat, her wallet left behind in the glovebox with not a card out of place. There was no signs of a struggle. It just look like she pulled off the the side of the road for a minute. Y/N didn't want to be found and since she didn't want to be found, she had been smart. If someone had taken her, they would have been sloppy and messed up along the way. Not Y/N. She knew better.

The people that she had left behind were at a complete lost. They were all terrified, none of them wanting to think about what might have happened to Y/N or what she was capable of. She had lost three people incredibly close to her-her brother, her best friend, and the man she loves. People have lost a lot less and done a lot worse to others and themselves.

"Is there anywhere the two of them had? Any special place they'd go?" Sam asks Pepper once all of their leads dried up. The woman is clearly distraught, wringing her hands and her eyes rimmed with red. Rhodey hadn't wanted ask Pepper, but they were left with no other option. It doesn't take long for her to answer. She must've been thinking and thinking about where her sister-in-law has gone the couple of weeks they have been looking.

"There was this little farm house an hour outside of the city that Steve kept telling her that they were going to raise a family in. It-It has a big oak tree. You can't miss it." She answers, looking up at Sam and Bucky, "Please, please find her."

-

Pepper was right. They couldn't miss the house.

It was an aging colonial located in the middle of nowhere, with farmland and forest surrounding it. Its white siding was covered in moss in place, making it look more green than eggshell. The wrap around porch had been ripped off in places, leaving gaps. Some of the emerald green shutters have been torn off completely or were hanging by a single hinge. Most of the windows were broken and Sam was pretty sure it was leaning to the left a little. On the second story, an entire part of the roof has caved in. The best part of the entire place was giant oak tree. It was absolutely massive-probably the biggest that either man had seen. An old tire swing hung from one of the lower branches, the rope fraying but still somehow holding on.

Bucky and Sam glance at each other before getting out of the car and walking up the gravel driveway. It was eerily quiet and everything seemed to be at a standstill out here. The porch steps creaked and felt like it was going to collapse under their feet. The porch itself was warped, some planks missing completely. Sam sighed and carefully knocked on the door, really hoping for the best. There was no response, so he tried again. When there was no answer again, Sam reached for the door knob, finding it unlocked. The door creaked open loudly and both men were prepared to see the absolute worse waiting for them inside.

Yet when Sam and Bucky step inside the house, their eyes immediately land on her.

Y/N was nestled in a nook of one of the windows that still had glass in its panels, knees drawn up into her chest.  Old, moldy, and decaying furniture from decades earlier still filled the home. Mementos of someone else's family and life left behind, as if the home's inhabitants had gotten up one day and never came back. Pictures still left in their frames, their photos weathered and abandoned, It reminded Bucky of home, of the life he was ripped away from and he understands why Steve had like the house so much. It was a house that was out of place and out of time, just like the Star Spangled Man With A Plan.

"I was hoping you guys just let me be." Y/N announces, not bothering to turn her head to look at the pair. She rests her head against the window, nails digging into her calves. She was wearing a dress that was once white and the men could see her skin was littered with cuts and bruises.

"We just wanted to make sure you were okay." Sam announces, taking a step forward. The warped wood floors creak under his weight, announcing his movement. Y/N chuckles humorlessly, her breath fogging up the dingy glass.

"He said that we were gonna buy this house. Told me that he was going to marry me and we were going to settle down. Told me that we were going to have a family together. Told me that he wanted a family. Told me that for five years." She tells them unprompted, eyes flicking down to look at her knees, "And he did want all of that. Just not with me. I was just a replacement for her."

Bucky and Sam don't know how to respond. They know that there's nothing they can do, no way that they can defend Steve for his actions. Neither of them were happy with the man abandoning his grieving girlfriend in order to live out a half-baked fantasy. Y/N knows this too, which is why she continues.

"I told him to go. I told him if that's what he wanted that he could go. Told him I was going to be okay. He had already made his mind up at that point. For some reason, I-I didn't think he'd actually leave." Her voice cracks, her cool facade crumbling. Her nails digging deep crescents into her legs, "Why-Why would he leave me? I just lost Nat and Tony and he left-"

Tears roll down her cheeks as she releases her grip on her legs, loosening her hold. Her lower lip quivers, unable to rein her emotions back in. The question wasn't for Bucky or Sam and honestly, Y/N doesn't even know who she is asking.

"My brother-My brother got his family and I-Steve kept telling me that we were going to get married and have a house full of kids." She forces the words out through the emotion, finally turning to look at Bucky and Sam, "Did you know that he and Peggy had three children together, Sam? I don't think he told you that when you got the shield."

Her eyes flick back down to look at her knees, tears rolling down her face. The house has gotten a lot colder, especially as the sky starts to darken outside. Y/N lifts her head, resting it against the frame of the window.

"I bought this house. It was going to be his Christmas present this year. A push in the right direction, if you will. Tony told me not to do it, said it was a bad idea. And he was right. He was always right." Y/N announces, a bitter laugh slipping out of her mouth, "And now I'm stuck with this fucking shithole."

For the past eight years, Y/N has been in a relationship with Steve. He was the man she loved, the man who she saw herself marrying and having children with. Y/N had turned on her brother and gone on the run with Steve, even though she knew that might cut off ties from the only family she has. When Thanos snapped his fingers and made half of the universe disappear, Y/N had clung to her boyfriend. Sure she'd go visit Tony, Pepper, and Morgan and would occasionally see Natasha, but she practically spent every waking moment with Steve. After the Snap, after she saw how happy her brother was, she knew she wanted a family. And Steve-Steve just kept telling her that they would have a family one day.

Y/N had been too distracted to see the cracks in their relationship. She was too in love with Steve to see that he hadn't loved her the same amount. Too in love to see that she was only a replacement for the woman he truly loved. When the cracks started to slip through, Y/N tried her best to fix them by making excuses. She had layered and layered excuses onto of each other in order to hold her relationship together. And while Y/N should've known better, she just didn't want to face the music and see everything for what it was.

That had worked until Natasha died, until her brother snapped his fingers. Until Steve told her that he was going to leave, not taking how she was feeling or what she was going through into consideration. Until he told her that he just didn't love her in that way. Until she had to keep how betrayed she felt to herself as she played the role of the dutiful, mournful girlfriend at his funeral. After that, everything came tumbling down around her and she was thrown back into reality.

"I told him.. told him that I wanted to end it all and he didn't care. Didn't even try to talk to me about it. Tony was the only family I've ever known and Nat was my best friend and he-he should've been there for me and he wasn't. He didn't care because he was already going to be gone. Another dead Stark didn't matter to him." Y/N turns her head and narrows her eyes at them, "That's why you two came here, isn't it? To make sure I didn't off myself?"

"We wanted to make sure you're safe-" Bucky starts, but Y/N quickly cuts him off with another bitter laugh. The super soldier glances at Sam, not knowing what to do in this situation.

"You wanted to? Don't bullshit me. You guys didn't move in with me or come to check on me because you two actually care about me. You two promised Steve that you'd watch over me, like I'm a fucking helpless child." Y/N snaps, glaring daggers at the two of them, "If he cared that much, he'd fucking be here, but he isn't. Steve made his choice and because of that, he doesn't get to have a say in my life anymore."

"Okay fine, we won't bullshit you. Yeah, he did ask us to take care of you, but you act like we weren't friends five years ago, Y/N. I have no idea what you're going through, but don't you dare act like I don't fucking care about you." Sam fires back, tears filling his eyes. More tears stream down her face as he continues, "Before the snap, you and me were thick as thieves. I care about you, Y/N, and you've had Pepper, Rhodey, and me all worried sick. Yeah, we were scared that you'd hurt yourself because we know you and I know how bad you got when we were in hiding, so we have every right to be worried about you."

It's incredibly quiet, quiet enough to hear a mouse sneeze. Bucky felt incredibly awkward standing there. He had only met Y/N a few times before he moved into her home and every time he had been around her, Steve was there. Obviously, he doesn't know Y/N as good as Sam does-hell, he barely knows anything about her-but he knows when someone is doing bad and Y/N is clearly doing bad.

Y/N leans her head forehead, pressing it against her knees for a moment. Her chest felt hollow, almost as if it was going to cave in on itself. She would love to pretend that she was doing completely okay, love to pretend that Sam and her family were wrong in their assumptions of why she had disappeared. Y/N would love to pretend like everything was okay, but she was tired.  She was incredibly tired, utterly exhausted. Y/N was done trying to pretend like nothing was wrong, done hiding everything in order to keep up appearances for the people around her. She let a shakily breath slip out of her mouth as she lifts up her head, resting her chin on her knees. As if he could feel the energy in the room shift, Sam turns to look at Bucky, silently asking if he could leave. The super soldier nods and without a word, he walks out the front door, shutting it behind him. Sam knows Y/N and he knows for times like this, she doesn't need an audience. Its already extremely hard for her to share what she is feeling and having Bucky there isn't exactly helping.

"I can't do this anymore, Sam. I can't." Y/N admits quietly once the door is shut, tears steaming down her cheeks. "I tried to stick it out for Pepper and Morgan, but I can't. I-I was going to do it. I had a goodbye message recorded and everything."

Her confession sucks all of the air out of the room, the only noises being her sniffling and the sounds a house as old as this one makes. Sam can feel his heart breaking in his chest makes his way over to her, crossing the room in seconds. He moves to sit on the edge of the nook she's sitting on. Up close, Sam can see how red her eyes are, how dark her under eyes are. He knows she most likely hasn't gotten any actual rest in few days-most likely since she's been gone. Her legs and arms are all cut up and bruised, her white dress covered in dirt and occasionally some sprinkles of deep burgundy. Her cheeks seemed a little less full and Sam wonders when was the last time she ate was.

"And you wanted to do it here?" Sam asks, his voice soft. Y/N just nods in response, unable to look at him. The man clasps his hands together as he continues, treading the waters as carefully as possible, "I-I'm not going to pretend to understand what you're going through okay? I'm not going to bullshit you. All I know is that you're hurting and you have every right to be."

"It just hurts so much, Sam. Everything hurts and I-I don't want to hurt anymore." Y/N manages to get out, not bothering to wipe the tears that keep rolling down her cheeks, "I'm tired. I'm so God damn tired and I want to be with them."

"Do you think that's what Tony wants? Do you think he wants you to join him? Do you think that's what Nat wants you to do?" Sam questions delicately, to which Y/N shakes her 'no' in response, "I know it hurts, but ending it? They don't want that for you. We don't want that for you. You still have so much life to live, kid. And I know it's horrible right now. You're going through pain that is way too much for one person to carry, but you don't have to go through this alone. Sure I'm not Nat or your brother and I'm sure as hell not Steve-but I am here and I want to make sure you're okay."

Y/N raises her head to look at her friend and Sam can see the hurt written all over her face. Her pain is visible and he feels like a shitty friend for not noticing it beforehand. Sam carefully reaches out and rests his hand on top of hers, a tear slipping out of his eyes.

"Just come back with us, okay? It's not going to be easy and it's going to suck, but I can't bury another friend, Y/N." Sam's voice cracks, his throat constricting with emotion. It takes her moment-and for that moment Sam is absolutely petrified, wondering if he said all the wrong things, wondering if he made it all worse-but then she nods the world's tiniest nod before breaking out into full on sobs. It was like all of the pain and hurt had finally broken through and she was finally reacting to it all. Sam wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her against his chest as she cried and cried over the family she lost.

[moronic-validity]

The Vincent Sinclair’s Boot x Reader Fic

okay so a few notes! 

1) Reader is a trans guy (like your’s truly) 

2) This is smut for the sake of smut, plain and simple.

3) I finished this at 2:30am and I have to be at work at 8. 

This Contains: dubcon/coerced consent, drugs, bdsm, dom vincent, a boot kink, typos, almost murder, masturbation, and car problems! Everything under the cut is 18+!!!

As the temperature gauge crept higher and higher, [y/n] had to kick himself. He had been told to check his oil periodically through the road trip, but more than that, he had always been told to keep an extra thing of 5-20 in his car. Both pieces of advice went in one ear and out the other.

Which left him here, in the middle of nowhere Louisiana, 30 miles shy of Baton Rouge.

The immediate reaction was to get out of his car and scream. Sure, it was near midnight, but there wasn’t anyone nearby, so what was the worst thing that could happen.  The flash of headlights on him and his car answered his question.

Great. Fantastic. Cool.

“Hey, sorry about the yelling,” he called out in the general direction of the headlights. “Any chance you have some 5-20, I’ll be right out of here if you do!”

No response. [y/n] sighed and sat on the hood of his car and watched the car. It was the middle of the night and it was still hotter than hell and humid to match. Without giving it much thought, he pulled his t shirt over his head and sat it on the hood next to him. What did it matter, he had a binder on anyway. Not like anything was showing.

The mystery driver flashed his brights at [y/n], then threw it in reverse and went back to where he came from.

Well that’s fantastic. I’m in the middle of nowhere and someone knows I’m stranded here. Perfect.

Without giving any more thought to it, he got back into his car and went to sleep, his t shirt thrown over his eyes.

The sun didn’t wake him up, the tapping on his window did.

[y/n] scrambled into an acceptable position and pulled his still damp t shirt on. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he was able to see the man standing near his window. The man wasn’t intimidating or anything, but the situation was odd and [y/n] was immediately warry.

“Sorry ‘bout that, didn mean to startle ya or nothin,” The man with the green hat said with a small laugh, “it just looked like ya might need some help, most people don like sleepin in their car this time a year.”

[y/n] squinted at the guy. It wasn’t due to the accent or the look of him, the sun just happened to be right in his eyes. The perfect start to another fantastic day.

“Uh yeah, I’ve definitely had better days. Any chance you know where to get a quart or two of oil?” He asked, ending it with a still tired yawn.

“I could give ya a lift into town, ‘m sure Bo will help you out at the station,” The green hatted man offered helpfully.

“Actually, that’d be wonderful, thank you…” [y/n] realized that he just accepted a ride from a man who’s name he didn’t even know. His mother would be so proud.

“Lester, Lester Sinclair,” Lester said with an extended hand.

“[y/n], [y/n] [l/n]” He took the other’s hand and gave a firm shake. [y/n] was acutely aware of the tacky reddish-brown smudge that was now on his hand.

The ride into town was quite, aside from the rumble of Lester’s truck and the sound of tires throwing rock.

“So where’re you headed?” Lester asked, glancing over at [y/n].

“Ah, no direction, wanted to go up, down, coast to coast. Want to see a little bit of everything, I guess,” [y/n] picked at the skin around his index finger, “I’ve only broken down once, so I figure I’m doing okay.”

“Welcome to Ambrose, I know it probably isn where ya wanted t’ go, but there are worse places.” Lester said cheerfully.

The ride went back to being quiet.

“Oh shit,” Lester whined, more to himself than anything else, as he threw the car in park and jumped out, “ya wouldn’ mind givin me a hand flipping the hubs, would ya?”

What the hell does that even mean? {y/n] thought to himself as he hopped out of the car to help Lester with the task anyway. Help was a bit of a strong word for what [y/n] did, it was more get in the way and offer moral support. Lester appreciated the gesture and the company. Most people jumped out of the car and fled into town by this point.

The two got back into the truck and drove right on into Ambrose and parked in front of the service station.

“Now, you wait here, Bo ‘ll be ‘round soon,” Lester dropped [y/n] off with a wave then drove off to wherever he worked. It occurred to [y/n] that he never thought to ask.

It also occurred to [y/n] that he’d have to walk back to his car or hope that someone in town would be willing to give him a ride. Just one more thing. He sighed and sat with his back against the wall of the station.

At least there’s shade. It’s already starting to feel like the devil’s armpit, but at least there is shade.

Time passed, could’ve been hours, could’ve been minutes.

No, it was definitely hours.

Around the point [y/n] was sure that this Bo guy would have to pry him off the cement with a spatula, Bo happened to come down the road and up to the door of the station, near where he was sitting. Bo stood within arm’s distance as [y/n] pushed himself up off the sidewalk.

“I take it you’re Bo? [Y/n] [l/n], Lester said you might have some oil?” [y/n] offered the man he assumed to be Bo his hand. Bo flashed [y/n] a smile that seemed to try to hard to be charming.

“Well, I’d introduce myself but you already know who I am,” Bo chuckled. He was in a suit and tie, didn’t seem like he was dressed for his line of work. “ Let’s see if we can’t get you back on the road, hm?” He hummed to himself as he unlocked the door to let the two men into the store.

There was no AC, and that was the first problem [y/n] had with the station. The second problem was that there appeared to be no oil. Anywhere.

What type of station doesn’t carry oil. Oil. OIL. Walmart carries oil, DG carries oil. Why does this man not have oil.

“Uh….Hey Bo, any chance you have some oil in the garage that you’re willing to part with?” [y/n] asked, while squatting and looking at another shelf devoid of oil.

“I’m sure I could check,” Bo said, his voice drifting further away. [y/n] kept looking.

“So I’ve got some bad news, I don’t have any oil down here;” ,” Bo said as he re-entered the store, wiping his hands down on a grease rag, “Good news though, I got my restock shipment in yesterday and just haven’t gotten around to bringing it down from the house. I’m more than willing to let you wait here while I go up to to get what you need, but you look like you need something to drink.”

[y/n] thought it over. This would mark the second time in less than 24 hours that he went somewhere with a random stranger, but at least this time he knew the guy’s name.

Well, the south is known for its hospitality, so I might as well go and get something to drink.

“I’d really appreciate something to drink and thank you so much for the help,” [y/n] said, suddenly aware that his mouth felt like it was full of glue.

The pair were about halfway to the house, when [y/n] finally felt the need to ask about the suit.

“Okay so, I know it’s absolutely none of my business, but why are you wearing a suit? Isn’t it a bit hot for that?” Bo stopped moving at [y/n]’s question and seemed to consider a few possible answers before he nodded to himself and kept walking.

“Well, it’s not the heat that gets you, it’s the humidity,” he chuckled to himself, “and uh,” he paused to clear his throat, “My mom passed on, was at her service.”

“Bo, I am so sorry. If you don’t mind, I’ll be sure to pay my respects before I leave town,” [y/n] couldn’t help but feel intense sympathy for Bo.

He left his mom’s funeral to help me get some oil so I can get back on the road. Holy shit.

They walked in silence for the rest of the day, [y/n] was unsure how to comfort this stranger, so he just followed the other man’s lead. Silence.

Bo unlocked the door when they got up on the step and lead [y/n] into the house.

“Washroom is down the hall if you need it, the door should be open,” Bo motioned towards the washroom, “Make yourself at home.”  

With that, Bo was in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of sweet tea. [y/n] decided to take Bo up on his offer of a washroom. Once the door was shut, he fought with his binder for a minute, before finally getting it off his chest, letting it hang loosely around his neck. At this point, it just felt good to take a few deep breaths. After a few minutes passed, [y/n] pulled his binder back into place, swore he’d keep it off until he hit the next rest stop, then went back out into the house and met Bo in the kitchen.

Bo handed [y/n] the glass of sweet tea, condensation already beading on the sides. Nice and cold and incredibly sweet, it even tasted southern. And a bit salty. [y/n] had never had homemade sweet tea before, so he assumed that maybe that just happened sometimes with the tea when it cooled.

The room started to sway.

“Hey, [y/n] maybe you should sit down, looks like the heat is getting to you,” Bo said, worry in his voice, but a smile on his lips, “maybe you ought to lay down for a bit.”

Not a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all.

That was weird, he tried to say it out loud, but his mouth didn’t seem to want to cooperate. Bo helped [y/n] to sit on the couch and as his vision started to darken, [y/n] swore he saw another person enter the room.

When [y/n] came to, he realized a few things in short order. It was much darker, he was not on the couch, and he was restrained to the metal table he way laying on. Ever the optimist, he was thankful for the fact that he still had his clothes on and also for the fact it was much cooler wherever he was.

A tall man with long dark hair entered his line of sight. [y/n] had a few ideas of things to yell at him, but instead, took a different approach.

“So, either I’ve been asleep for a really long time, or you’re not Bo,” [y/n] said, turning his head to get a better look at the man. The man’s shoulders shook, like he was laughing without the noise.

Okay so he can’t talk. Noted.

The man turned around to face the table and made sure his hands were in clear view as he signed, “Vincent.”

The motions were smooth and [y/n] caught it near immediately.

“Vincent is a nice name,” he mused, giving Vincent a charming smile of his own, “I’m [y/n]. Now, I do have a few questions, mainly, why am I tied up?”

Vincent turned his back on [y/n] and went back to preparing the paralytic, deciding to make it a bit stronger so the man on the table wouldn’t have to be awake for the worst of it. When he turned around and [y/n] saw the needle, the reality of the situation began to sink in and things snapped into focus.

“Hey Vincent, I don’t know what’s in that needle, but I promise you don’t have to do whatever it is you’re about to do,” [y/n] tried to keep his voice level as he squirmed and fought against the restraints, “I know we don’t know each other, but I swear you don’t need to do this.”

Vincent watched him writhe on the table and considered his options.

“Please, can we talk this out, please,” [y/n] continued to beg, tears forming in the corners of his eyes and bruises already forming at both his wrists and his ankles from the jerking around. Desperation in one hell of a drug, because in no other situation could [y/n] see himself saying, “I’ll do anything to convince you.”

Vincent set the syringe back down and walked up to the head of the table and gripped [y/n]’s jaw and turned his head to make sure he saw when he signed “Are you sure?” he drew it out to emphasize the importance of the question.

Was [y/n] sure? No. No he wasn’t, but he wasn’t in a place that allowed many options. Behind door one? Death! Behind door two? A questionable fate that could very well still end in death!

Yeah, I’ll go with door number two, please.

[y/n] nodded, Vincent’s hand still not leaving his jaw.

Vincent considered the situation for a moment. He considered the number of girls that Bo had brought to him after he had had his way with them at the station. Girls had never really been Vincent’s speed.  There were plenty of attractive guys who had come through, but mostly they were either already dead or just spit curses at him. [y/n] was different. No threats, no insults, he was shockingly calm, all things considered. Vincent stroked up and down the side of [y/n]’s face, bringing his hand into the smaller man’s hair and pulling, eliciting a soft whimper.

“I want you to show me,” Vincent signed before undoing the restraints at [y/n]’s ankles. As for his hands? His hands were going to stay bound, but a change of position was still needed. Vincent kept eye contact with [y/n] as he undid his wrists.

[y/n] sat up on the table, moving slowly as to not startle Vincent. The last thing he wanted was to scare the guy who probably had a half dozen ways to kill him in arms reach. His wrists ached and were bleeding in some places. He rubbed at his sore joints before Vincent snapped his fingers, pointed directly at him, then down at the floor near his boot clad feet.

[y/n] had the opportunity to make a run for it, but instead knelt at Vincent’s feet. Vincent put his hand out and without thinking, [y/n] rested the side of his face against it. Vincent’s face burned beneath his mask, that was not what he needed the man to do. He pulled his hand away and gently slapped at the kneeling man’s face, not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough for him to know that that was not the desired action. The kneeling man was a quick learner and when Vincent put his hand out again, he reluctantly placed his wrists in the larger man’s hands.

[y/n] was not thrilled at this situation, but he was also a simple man, and for all the terror in the situation, Vincent was a large man with shockingly soft hands that were big enough to envelop both of his wrists, who had complete control over the situation. Should he be getting wet due to the situation? Absolutely not, but in the one psychology class he took in high school, it was mentioned that fear and arousal were close together in the brain.

Vincent saw the bruising and blood on the smaller man’s wrists and was careful when he rebound them. Sure, he was planning on killing the guy, but his plans had changed. He threaded a rope and carefully suspended his wrists so that his wrists would remain above his head.

[y/n]’s first thought was that Vincent wanted head. Most guys he had met enjoyed getting head, so it did make sense. He carefully pressed his cheek against the man’s crotch and nuzzled against it, then looked up and into Vincent’s eyes for any sign. Instead, Vincent just lifted his knee and pushed [y/n] off of him like he was a disobedient dog.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as to what he wanted, if not a blow job. He was further confused when Vincent lifted his boot clad foot and pressed it into the smaller man’s pelvic bone, hard.

Oh.

The pressure of it was enough to lift him up just a little bit more and it had him wetter than he thought he could be in a situation like this. He pressed down onto the shoe and began to grind against it, shamelessly chasing the friction it created.

Vincent groaned. His cock twitched as he watched the man’s lewd display. He didn’t want [y/n] to touch him, not yet. There was still the chance that could go horribly wrong, what Vincent wanted was to see exactly how desperate the man was. Vincent began to palm himself, stroking through the fabric of his pants while he watched.

The answer was very. [y/n] was very desperate. [y/n] was desperate not to die and now, now he was also desperate to cum. He pressed himself harder against the toe of Vincent’s boot and rutted against it, groaning loudly when it pressed up against that bundle of nerves. He began to fall into a rhythm that hit every sensitive spot he could reach.

Vincent’s hand was now in his pants as he stroked himself to the same rhythm [y/n] was fucking himself to. God,  Vincent thought to himself, this man was making an absolute whore of himself. It might not be a bad idea to keep him around. Could make work slightly less taxing. Then the bound man made a sound that snapped Vincent out of his thoughts and almost made him cream his pants.

He was getting so close, he had thrown himself so into chasing his high that he almost forgot that the circumstances that brought him to this were less than desirable. He pressed began to rotate his hips so that bundle of nerves caught significantly more pressure and more friction. He let out a loud, needy whine.

“Please Vincent, please tell me I can cum, I’ve been such a good boy, please God, Vincent,” the words came tumbling out of his mouth, he was babbling and begging for a different release now. Vincent bucked into his own hand, listening to the whines and pleas.

Tears were starting to form in [y/n]’s eyes again, he was trying so hard to be good for Vincent, trying so hard to be his good boy. Sure, less than an hour ago, he wanted nothing more than to be as far from him as possible, but God, he was so close to cumming and he just needed Vincent to tell him he had been good. Hadn’t he been good enough to deserve release?

Vincent pressed his crotch against [y/n]’s face and continued to jack himself off. He didn’t want the man’s mouth, but he wanted the proximity. He was so close to his own release. So so close, all he needed was-

“Oh GOD, sir please, I’ve been so good for you, please sir. Tell me I’ve been a good boy for you, tell me I’m your good boy, please sir; oh my God, please, please,” [y/n] continued to babble, now crying for release against Vincent’s aching cock.

Yeah, that just about did it for him. Vincent’s orgasm took him hard and left a sizable stain that leaked into the front of his pants and against the begging man’s face. Vincent closed his eyes, lost in his own release. When things snapped back into focus, he realized the other man was still whining pitifully, still having not came.

Vincent had to admit, he was impressed at the man’s willpower, it was oddly attractive to him that the man refused to grant himself pleasure without permission. This could actually work out wonderfully, Vincent thought to himself.

He took the rope in his free hand and yanked on it hard enough to knock the [y/n] off balance. He looked up at Vincent as he tried to regain balance. Vincent let go of the rope and let him drop onto his knees, but his eyes were still locked on his masked face.

Vincent thought about it for a moment before signing “I want you to cum.”

That was all [y/n] needed to hear before going back to rutting against the shoe, quickly going over the edge and coating the toe of the boot in his fluids. He braced himself against Vincent’s leg, mumbling thank yous as he came back down. Vincent allowed this to go on for a short while, before cutting the rope and pressing [y/n]’s face down to the still wet boot.

Vincent used one hand to yank [y/n]’s hair to make the blissed out man look up at him, with the other hand, he calmly signed “Clean it up.”

[quitealotofsodapop]

MvA assorted headcanons

General:

So many years together has made the core monsters inseperable. If something affects one member, it affects the group.

All. The. Monsters. Are. Family.

It takes Susan a while to understand inside jokes and past incidents because of being the most recent addition.

There are Other anomalous creatures kept in Area 5X, but they are either non-sentient and/or are too dangerous to be kept around the more human-friendly monster group.

Area 5X is so gotdang big because they were expecting a lot more kaijus like Insecto to crop up. Sadly not many have surfaced to justify the space.

There’s a hangar in Area 5X full of wrecked UFOs. Some are spacecraft wreckage while others are stuff like weird meteors (Susan’s is in there), and at least one alien creature that got crystallised upon entering Earth’s atmosphere.

There’s significant difference in staff employed at different points throughout the past 50 years. There are far more women on the Area 5X worksheet than back in the 50s, and the guards are generally more sympathetic towards the monsters. Many modern staff members have been reprimanded or let go for failing to uphold secrecy, or for unnecessary cruelty towards the monsters.

Budget cuts were a legitmate concern up until the Battle of Golden Gate Bridge. The facility was far more barebones and sterile before the government had to formally recognise Area 5X’s importance. There have been a lot of redecorating at the facilty since the fat checks started coming in.

Putting individual characters under read due to length.

Susan:

Enjoys many hobbies considered stereotypically feminine; baking, sewing, cosmetics, etc...

Grandparents and extended family are farmers or are atleast connected to the business. Modesto is the agricultural centre of California after all. Her parents were the first of their generation to go against the mold and seek out white-collar careers.

Studied cosmetology in school and was working at a beauty salon to save up for her and Derek’s wedding.

Is very athletic and grew up doing a number of physical extracurriculars like cheerleading, dodgeball, and roller-derby.

Grew up being teased for being the shortest kid in her class/family. They still tease her for it.

Greatly fears causing collateral damage and/or harm to others through her size.

Has issues with anxiety, worsened only by her new job as “savior of earth”. She wishes for a confidant to tell her worries to.

Married life with Derek was doomed to fail. Susan had a plan in place for what came after the marriage, and focusing 100% on Derek’s career was not it. There’s also the line from Derek’s mother about Susan being “the weatherman’s wife”, implying that she was to be the homemaker and not have a career of her own. It’s possible that Susan was planning to settle down and have kids with Derek, but the lack of control she had in moving to Fresno implied that more was going on.

Is currently “taking a break” from love and dating, despite gaining many new admirers.

Tries her best to return to Modesto to visit her family and friends whenever possible, though work often keeps her away for weeks at a time.

If she retains her height-shifting abilities as in the series; Susan goes through really bad “growing” pains.

Link:

Was frozen in his relative late-teens during a cold snap. Got shifted around until he ended up somewhere in Greenland before being discovered by modern humans. Post-thaw he went a bit wild, swimming frantically back south to try and find his old enviroment.

Was one of many scrappy youngsters in his troop, with a number of adoptive parents. The strongest ruled the troop, and Link was fairly weak in comparision to the leaders. He had gotten into a fight the day of his freezing (over something silly in hindsight) and swam away to sulk. When he didn’t return after the cold snap - the troop accepted that he had likely died out on his own.

Likes to freak out humans by making up weird biology facts about his species and ones he’s fought against - like joking about laying eggs or having his tail dettach and regrow like a lizard. However there’s some things he has to ask about, because he doesn’t have medical knowledge or words to describe something.

A lot of his macho behavior came from imitating the guards who kept watch on him. 1950s violent military alpha males aren't a very good role model for someone who doesnt know what societal norms are yet. Link was a lot more insufferable back in the day but chilled out as he began interacting with other walks of life.

Has a high paternal instinct and immediately becomes softer around kids and smaller animals.

Has body language similar to a cat/alligator. Slaps his tail when angry or in deep thought. And yes; Link purrs/rumbles when happy.

Loves monster movies - especially the ones where the monsters “win”. He cried when he saw “Beauty and the Beast” and then immediately booed loudly when the Beast turned human.

Does Not Trust doctors or scientists due to bad past experiences. Will only go to Dr Cockroach and Monger if he ever gets hurt/ill. Gets stressed fast if he has to be in a waiting room or doctors office.

Link had no idea what gender indentities or orientations were until recently - he did come from a pre-human civilization that really didnt mind/care about the schemantics. It took him some time to wrap his head around it. He identifies himself as bisexual after much thought and many hours alone on the computer.

Don't press him about his body. He's built different from humans and cis people. He will punch anyone who doesnt respect his or anyone elses identity.

Has been in love before. It didn’t end well.

Will occasionally wear clothes, but finds it a challenge to find anything that fits him. Will give any shoes he finds to Dr Cockroach and BOB to eat.

The best driver/pilot out of all the monsters.

Dr Cockroach:

True name is Jaques-Yves Herbert. Prefers to just go by "Dr Cockroach" because he dislikes the association with his birth family.

Picks up human languages very easily, although not as quickly as he can understand animals.

Parents were a mixed scientist couple. His father was an aggressive “Strong British Man” that would beat him son down for not following orders or for not meeting his standards for a man. Dr C turned down both chances to attend his parents funerals.

This man isn’t straight. He probably uses old-fashioned slang when asked about romance such as; “I am Uranian” or “I wear a green carnation”. It took Susan a few times to realise what he meant, as she is used to a more open minded enviroment.

Got the idea of transforming into a cockroach from reading Franz Kafkas “The Metamorphosis” as a child. He sympathized with Gregor’s abusive situation, and began considering the possibilties of how one could survive better as a creature like a cockroach.

Studied in biology and entomology in the Uk before moving to the states to follow engineering. Obtained his degree in Dance as a “side gig” in University.

Has been barred from free access to the coffee maker/machine due to overnighters. Once stayed awake so long that he forgot the letter “R”.

Owned a terrarium of Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches throughout college. He mourned each of them when his roommate’s iguana got into the tank.

Was a "beatnik" back in the day and still kinda is. Embraces and encourages modern counterculture as he himself was not given such acceptance in his youth. He has however shamefully eaten his old Lenny Bruce album.

Hasn’t actually aged physically since his transformation. He attributes this to the fact that certain athropods can’t age physically beyond maturity. Link is very jealous.

Has obtained more degrees while in captivity, as Monger allowed him access to research and learning materials. He has however had his allowances revoked for previous escape attempts/doomsday devices.

Does still enjoy human food, but the cockroach instinct of "eat detritus" tends to overrule his eating choices. Can’t cook either.

Ironically a terrible driver. The damages from previous drives has made Monger restrict him from operating even a razor scooter.

BOB:

Pretty much considers himself human. Was created by them, raised by one (Monger), and talks like one. Gets sad when he's reminded that no other humans are blue blobs like him.

Absorbed some dna from the scientists present at his "birth", leading to his eye, speech, and omnivorous diet.

Doesnt actually need to breathe (as he can just absorb oxygen through his mass) but the fact that humans Do means that BOB thinks he has to as well.

Shares some physical characteristics with tomatoes/nightshade plants, as he is technically half tomato. He refuses to eat tomatos for this very reason, considering it cannibalism.

Attracts garden pests looking for a tomato plant. This unwittingly makes BOB a pretty good bug zapper.

Still retains his "mental broadcast" ability from "BOB's Big Break" although at a more subtle level. He tends to parrot the things he accidentally "eavesdropped" on.

Is empathetic, and can tell when others aren't doing ok emotionally. Will flop down on someone who’s really sad to comfort them. No brain, only heart.

Best cook out of the monsters. If he doesn’t forget what he’s making at least.

"Whats a gender? Can I eat it?"

Insectosaurus:

Core body is that of a Japanese Silkmoth, although she ended up being spliced with other animals present on the island during her initial mutation; namely ants and ground squirrels.

Eats over a literal ton of mulberry leaves per day. Also enjoys oranges.

Secretly wishes to be more humanoid.

Was only able to pupate and transform due to physical trauma. It seems that her transformation was like a “power-up” that required her to be in geniune distress for it to activate.

First language is Japanese. She learned it from the intial recovery team, and later developed an understanding of English from years in Area 5X.

Goes into torpor in cold weather. Pretty much impossible to wake her up for missions during Winter, as she needs to “rev up” before becoming mobile.

Still very much Link’s best friend. Still enjoys sports, chicks, and beer.

Monger:

Full name is; Warren Rex Monger.

Is very protective of the monsters and will defend them to the death.

Pretty much raised BOB (as seen when BOB was a baby blob in “Night of the Living Carrots”), and considers him his “freaky gelatinous son”.

Has a reputation of being a “control-freak” due to his aggressive overseeing of the monsters’ containment. This toughness is partly because of incidents that occured without his knowledge. Lets just say some scientists have been wedgied/fired for running experiments on the monsters without Monger’s approval.

Has a very “Ron Swanson” emotional response and view of the world. Crying is acceptable only at funerals and at the Grand Canyon (if he hadn’t lost his tear ducts in the war).

Has been married multiple times. Will not confirm or deny if he is currently seeing anyone.

Invisible Man/TiM:

Legit got out but no one at Area 5X is sure how. He suffered a geniune medical emergency and disappeared after surgery. The other monsters were informed that he died from complications to deter them from getting escape ideas.

Is able to be detected in Infrared light. Dr Cockroach managed to rig up goggles to view TiM in case of injury and to foil pranks.

Was a scientist working on an invisibility potion for the military and used himself as a guinea pig. Hasn’t actually been able to replicate his results since - thinks the effect may have been caused by a genetic abnormality.

Dr Cockroach and him are massive rivals. Both actually met eachother pre-transformation through a CalTech expedition. This makes the pair one of few people that have seen the others human face.

Is 100% naked. Was forced to wear clothing once this was discovered.

A massive prankster and a cynic. Him and Link were a force to be reckoned with.

Has revisted the facility multiple times and has started a number of ghost stories.

Any additions are welcome! I proably have alot more to dump about. Might make one of the alien characters from the series

[all-that-tmnt-jazz]

I thought of this idea and was curious if you’d be able to do head cannons on it because your writing is amazing— how would the turtles react to having a human S/O that can turn into a mutant whenever they please?

Ooh I like this one!!

Warnings: Swearing.

Incarnation: Bayverse

Extra Info: The mutant the reader can turn into will be different for each turtle- don’t worry, I’ll explain each one.

Leo:

So, your mutation never really came up in conversation

However, it only came up because you had (accidentally) been dragged into a fight with the Foot Clan

You and Leo had been on a date when Donnie had reported Foot Clan activity not far from your apartment

He tried to convince you to lock yourself inside, but you figured it would be a good time to reveal yourself

So, you managed to be dragged into the fight a few blocks away, joined by Raph, Donnie, and Mikey

You watch the boys struggle. You want to help, but you also want to wait for the perfect time

So you wait until you’re being cornered by four Foot Clan soldiers, and the brothers are busy

Perfect.

One of the Foot Clan soldiers tries to throw a small knife at you…

And you caught it.

“Shouldn’t have done that.”

You throw the knife back and hit the soldier

Using the distraction, you turn

The next time the soldiers look at you, wings have sprouted from your back, your eyes have gotten much larger, talons had grown from your fingertips and through your shoes, and your legs had gotten longer to a scary extent.

You are a half-human half-owl mutant.

“It’s showtime.”

You jumped off of the ground and immediately grabbed two of the three soldiers that had tried to attack you

You flew up above the city, not afraid to press your talons into their skin

You unashamedly flung the two Foot Clan soldiers into the Hudson, then watched them struggle as the current pulled them

You went back to the alleyway where the turtles were, watching from far above as they were continuing to fight the Foot Clan soldiers.

It was like they didn’t notice.

You dove down into the alley and pulled up at the last second, grabbing Foot Clan soldiers as you went.

You dropped them into the Hudson as well

You went back to the turtles, who had retreated to the rooftops to converse about what jus happened.

You were able to grab Leo and brought him many, many blocks away, and he was fighting the entire time

You put him down and landed in front of him- it was weird being taller than him for once…

You turned back, and he gasped.

“Y/N… That was… You?”

You nodded.

“I figured I should tell you at some point but it never came up in conversation.”

He just looked at you, unsure of what to think

He pulled you to his plastron and held you, then pulled your chin up gently

“You’re fucking amazing.”

Raph:

Raph always noticed you looking at him

Especially since oftentimes, you would be looking sad

You knew you had to tell him at some point, but it hurt your heart too much

You had gotten cursed and your lifespan became elongated

Also known as semi-immortal

And Raph was not

You’re body has been 18 for years, but you’re actually nearing your 30s

That was why you had been so against getting into a relationship

You denied him every time he asked you, until the day he turned 19- just to be sure

That was three years ago, and you started seeing signs that he wanted to propose

And you were proven right, one night at dinner

It was just you and him at the Lair- he had talked his brothers into leaving him behind while going on patrol this night

Things were going well, yes, but you knew the reason why he wanted to be alone with you

“Y/N, I’ve loved you for years. I want to be your for the rest of my life, if you’ll let me be in the rest of yours.”

You started crying.

He smiled, thinking they were happy tears

“Raph, I… I don’t know.”

His face dropped, but he nodded

“It’s okay, Darling. You aren’t ready, and I shouldn’t-”

“I’m not mortal, Raph.”

There was a long silence between you two

You tried to stop crying

“I’m semi-immortal, Raph. I… I got cursed years ago. I stop aging and will die eventually, just later than you because my life span will be longer… Much longer… Maybe even by centuries, I don’t know…”

He just stared at you, confused, and almost hurt

The only noise was your crying

You didn’t know what to do

Raph kneeled on the ground in front of you, all possible hurt gone from his face

“Y/N, how old are you really?”

“Um… 29. I’ve been physically 18 for-”

“11 years?” Raph asked you, shocked.

You could only nod.

“That’s why you kept saying no- it felt wrong to you.”

You nodded again. 

He hugged you. You tensed, but soon relaxed into him when you realized he wouldn’t be letting go

“Is there anything you can control?”

“I… Just… Yeah.”

“May I ask what it is?”

You hiccupped- you had a bad feeling of where this was going.

“Age manipulation…”

“What?”

“Age manipulation. I can accelerate or reverse the age of organisms and non-living objects…”

You knew the lightbulb went off in his head the moment you said it

He let go of the hug, but remained holding your shoulders

“Raph, I know what your thinking, but no! It can backfire and you-”

“I don’t care-”

“You could forget memories, people, places. You could forget your brothers, even me!”

There’s another long silence

You see the light drain slowly from his eyes

You shrugged his hands from your shoulders and put your face in your hands

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have let it come this far…”

He hugged you again, pulling you off of your chair to put you in his lap

“You’re worth that risk, Y/N.”

“Raph, your brothers-”

“I can’t forget them- I have too many scars and too many memories to forget those assholes.”

You chuckled dryly. 

“I’m sorry for not telling you.”

“It’s okay. You were scared… I know it’s easy to be scared when you have such a big secret to hide.”

You nodded against his plastron and snuggled as close as you could

“I love you, Raph,” you tell him. “I really do.”

“I love you forever.”

You smiled- genuinely.

“Then, yes.”

“Yes?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

“To your proposal. I’m saying yes.”

He held you even tighter

Donnie:

Despite loving Donnie with your whole heart, it was hard to be around him while he was in his lab

He had so many thoughts running through his head, it was hard to keep track

So, you often spent your time in the kitchen, talking to you deceased mother

You possess telepathic powers, and you are also a necromancer

You can hear thoughts and speak to the dead after a freak accident you witnessed in your mother’s lab years ago

It was the accident that killed her, but you didn’t know that until your father told you to prepare for her funeral

That was five years before you met Donnie

You were 17 when you met him four years ago, and had been dating for three of them.

You had been able to control it when you were 17, but then when you met Donnie, you had to re-learn

You had never met someone who thinks so much, and so loudly

You can listen to the thoughts of his brothers, too, and you find Leo’s is the most entertaining

(You’ve never heard him physically swear, but his mind is like a sailor)

But Donnie’s is the one who overwhelms you.

“Y/N, you need to tell him,” you mother says to you. “I can tell he’s starting to feel bad- you keep leaving without explanation.”

“I know, Ma. I just-”

“Y/N, who are you talking to?”

You’re heart stopped for a moment. You slowly looked at the doorway, where Donnie loomed

He was totally confused

Thoughts ran through his head

Are they okay? Is something wrong? Maybe they’re just talking to themself. Yeah-

“You’re wrong.” you say to him.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. I still heard what you were thinking.”

“I’m sorry- you heard what I was thinking?”

You glanced at your mother, who had moved to stand next to Donnie

She nodded before disappearing

“I possess telepathic powers, and I’m a necromancer. I was talking to my mom- about telling you, actually.”

Donnie looks at you, shocked

His thoughts were louder than ever and were moving faster than you had ever heard

You covered your ears and closed your eyes- like that would help

He noticed this, and realization

They way I think is like someone screaming in your ear as loud as possible?

He thinks, knowing you were listening

“Yeah. I… I’m sorry,” you whisper, not moving

He approached you, but you didn’t see.

That’s why you leave the lab so suddenly sometimes? It gets overwhelming?

You nod.

He gently removes your hands from your ears and you finally look up at him

He smiles at you, almost guilty

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Don. You can’t help it.”

He takes you into his arms and holds you close

“Thank you for telling me, Y/N. Is there anything I can do?”

Mikey:

Okay, your mutation isn’t too spectacular

But it’s a mutation nonetheless

You were a test subject of the first recreation of mutagen that Shredder ordered Sacks and Stockman to make

But the Shredder and Sacks soon realized you wanted to rebel

Besides, your body was having different effects than they had hoped

So, they released you

And you went to the police

But did they believe you? No.

But a few years later, you saw Shredder fall. You saw Sacks get arrested.

Oh, now the NYPD listens

And when the man who “saved New York” was revealed, you immediately could tell he didn’t

“The Falcon” was a fake- you were surprised that everyone believe his story

Then two more years go by, and Shredder escapes prison, and then a “threat from the sky” tried to attack

But it was stopped- supposedly by “The Falcon” again

But this time, you knew it couldn’t have been him

A week after the incident, you saw a police escort heading toward Lower Manhattan

So, you followed.

Well, hitched a ride on the back of one of the trucks- which was easy in your mutant form

You hid when they stopped, then followed the path the officers made to a boat

In your mutant form, they let you onto the boat without question

Then, you saw the things that actually saved the city, proving your point

They were four turtle-human mutants- like yourself, but different animals. Obviously.

As the boat started to leave the docks, you approached the turtles, only you knowing that you shared their status as mutants

The one wearing an orange bandana immediately started cooing at you, picking you up off of the ground

“What a cute kitty… Leo, can we keep it?” he asked the turtle with the blue bandana

“We don’t know where it’s been, Mikey,” Leo had said.

So the one holding me is Mikey…

Mikey holds you the entire boat ride- and you don’t like to mention that you loved the way he pet you

Yup. you are a house cat. Specifically, a calico Turkish Angora

So, you followed Mikey off of the boat, and he kept smiling down at you as he walked

You soon realized you were at the Statue of Liberty

You saw that most- if not the entire police force of New York was gathered, as well as the Falcon, a woman from Channel Six named April, and some Ragamuffin Hockey Player-Turned-Police Officer

Then you saw Chief Vincent standing at a podium as she started speaking about the turtles who stood next to her

She thanked them for their bravery and service to this city and gave them Keys to the City

After a while of talking, she approached them to have a small group conversation for a moment

Then, she let them into the Statue of Liberty, and let them go into the statue’s torch

You followed them, of course

After the turtle’s celebration amongst themselves, you made your presence known by rubbing against Mikey’s leg

He squatted and greeted you, petting you

You soon backed away, though, and walked to the other side of the torch

You knew he followed, so, before he caught up, you turned into your human form

When he saw you, he screamed

The others immediately rushed over, and were shocked

“Hi. I’m the cat you were petting earlier,” you said- rather casually

“How? You’re a- person!” Donatello said- you had heard Chief Vincent say his name

“Yeah, I’m a person who got screwed over by Sacks and Stockman. I got mutated just before he got arrested.”

There was a long silence.

“Prove it,” Raphael demanded.

You turned into your mutant form and sat. You licked your paw, then looked up at Raphael, who had gone pale

All of them had gone pale, really, except Mikey

“Woah- you’re kinda like us, then?” Mikey asked.

You turned back and agreed.

“Awesome, dude!”

That was nearly five years ago now. Now, you and Mikey are dating, and have been for three and a half years

You never knew you’d meet your best friends because of the mutation you had wanted so badly to hate

[mantistog]

I was wondering if you can take a request for Yandere! Hannibal x reader x Yandere! Will Graham where the reader is very cold hearted so she always rejects Hannibal and Will and so they start killing for her like courtship and they eventually kidnap her and tell her they killed those people for her? Sorry if it’s long and I love your writings keep up the good work!

Bit different than what you wrote, sorry lol. I often get caught up writing, although I hope you still like it. <3

_________________________________________________________

Yandere!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Yandere!Will Graham: Devotion

The first time you rejected them you had been dealing with a sizzling headache for most of the day. It was the kind of headache that spread through the top of your head to the bridge of your nose and to the edge of your neck, making your head heavy and unbearable. The kind of headache that renders you desperate for relief and makes you question if life is even worth it at all. So to say you were irritable was an understatement. They could not have chosen a worse time to try and court you with dinner and fake kindness. 

At first it seemed they had thought your coldness and rejection was a symptom of your vicious headache or your bad mood following it. In reality you were just not at all interested in being part of a weird three way relationship, much less their toxic and gross partnership. The only way to describe it was codependent. It seemed Hannibal loved when people needed him. Or maybe he liked the control that came with someone being under him and having complete control. He did seem like the control freak type. Will on the other hand seemed he needed someone to make him stable. Someone to just handle him, even when he can’t handle himself. 

You needed neither, and you definitely didn’t want it. No one needed to give you a role to make you feel worth something and you didn’t need to define yourself by anyone you chose to date. You were not interested in any aspect of their sick love. Maybe if you had told them that that day instead of telling them politely to fuck off, they would have understood. The next time they had asked you out, it was when you bumped into them by accident. What for you had forgotten, but you needed flowers. Maybe it was a funeral, or maybe it was one of your friends' birthdays. You had never been good with gifts, always giving people things you’d liked. The flower you had chosen was a large bouquet of sunflowers, a big beautiful one that went well with the season. Sunflowers were your favourite, too. When you had bumped into them you had accidentally let that slip, when Hannibal had asked what occasion called for sunflowers. He had always looked far too deep into everything, making him too pretentious for your liking. Who cared if the flower was wrong for the occasion, if it was pretty? 

Either way you had told them in exact words that whatever they were trying to invite you to was not going to happen, and you were not in any way interested in any of them. Hannibal had of course tried to goat you into coming for dinner as a ‘friend’. Will was less tactful, seeming rather distraught. You disagreed, your patience thin. You simply walked away without even a goodbye. A lot of your friends would call you cold, or mean. To you it just meant you didn’t lie or deal with peoples shit. You were okay with being called cold if it meant you didn’t have to bother with putting up fake courtesies. 

When the pictures of the body came to you a few months later, you had completely forgotten the interaction. They had seemed much less pushy in their pursuit and you had to some degree even forgotten they had even tried to court you. In some way, the body was beautiful. The way the skin seemed so pale, like porcelain, matched so well with the vibrant yellow of the flowers. The body wasn’t even the focus of the masterpiece, it was the canvas for which the sunflowers were painted. The body was perched on a set of antlers, and it made you think it must have been the chesapeake ripper. 

But the motive was so different. Violation, cannibalism and the act of murder was always what you saw on the crime scenes from him. But this was not anything violent in nature itself. There was barely any blood anywhere on the body, it looked barely touched. She was almost alive, if it was not for the paleness and cold of her skin. Some of it looked even blue. You wondered what Will would gather of the body, if he would come to the same conclusion as you. 

You were surprised when he claimed it to be a love proclamation, yet still insisted that it was the ripper. Will knew better than you, when it came to all this, so you didn’t bother arguing with him. He insisted something must have changed in the ripper's life. That he must have found someone or something worth his art. It seemed almost unlikely to you, that someone like the ripper could be possible of love. Jack seemed to agree with you, which at least put your mind at ease. 

It wasn’t long before the next body turned up, in the same state as the last. So well preserved it was eerie. The body was exactly the same as the last, but the sunflowers were backed by bouquets of flowers. Just like with the last body, you didn’t connect the dots. But you still briefly thought about how pretty it was. You loved all those flowers, and you had to stop yourself from letting that thought fester. It would be too morbid to find it beautiful. 

Bodies kept turning up like that, so different but all so similar too. And after the 4th one you started to notice a pattern of the things the bodies were adorned with and that it was all things you found nice. But the 5th drove it home, putting it just beyond a coincidence for you. Just a week before the body turned up you had an altercation with your neighbor about a noise complaint after you had some friends over. You were complaining about it for a week, the fact that you didn’t see him again didn’t even cross your mind. You were too busy being caught up in your own spite to notice his absence at all. Until you saw the pictures of his body. Unlike the almost artistic and beautiful vision portrayed through the previous bodies, this one was malicious and predatory like the other victims of the ripper. 

It was like the pictures snapped you back to reality. All those bodies, it was all too close to home. You hadn’t asked for this. All you had done was complain. You went home early that day, overcome with a sense of guilt. You stayed home the next day too, calling in sick. You kept going over who it could be in your life. Will had deemed the killing proclamations of love, yet you couldn’t find one person who had shown any kind of interest in you. That was until you remembered the rejections. The lead was so thin, that you honestly felt bad for even thinking about it, but it was quickly squashed when you thought about it further. You had always found Hannibal creepy and probably capable of murder. And Will was unstable to the point where you didn’t even question his capabilities. 

You went back to work as normal after that. You made sure not to say anything personal, or complain about anyone when Hannibal or Will came near you. It went pretty smooth, and while everything was laying dormant in their relationship and your mind, you focused on trying to come up with a plan to see if it was them. But as mundanity rolled back into your life, you started chatting with your coworkers the same as you always had. And you made a mistake. You hadn’t even noticed Will was in the room as your back faced the doorway of the breakroom talking about a guy you had met at your local cafe. You were interested in him. It wasn’t often you were, and you had just let it slip in excitement. You didn’t even notice until you got spooked by a cough behind you that he had been there the whole time, pouring coffee. You fretted going home that day, scared of what would happen.

You couldn’t remember exactly when you had fallen asleep, but you woke up feeling really tired and stiff, with the faintest of headaches growing in the back of your skull. Yet you felt nice, pulling the duvet closer to your face to try and put pressure on your head and alleviate some of the headache. The duvet was  soft, and it smelled faintly of manly cologne. A cologne that wasn’t yours. Suddenly the gears in your head turned, and you shot upright, looking around suspiciously. The room is unfamiliar to you, but at the end of the bed you see Will, asleep. He’s sitting on the floor, propped up on the bed with his hands reaching upwards towards you, his face down on the sheets. He looks almost cute, like that. You almost consider waking him, to talk to him about this, but you quickly decide not to. Could you even make it to the door without him waking?

You look over at the half open door, at the other side of the room from the bed. But before you can even calculate the chances of your escape the door opens further, creaking in the process and startling Will awake. Hannibal is looking at you with a smile, and your blood runs cold at how creepy and insincere it is. Will scrambles to stand up, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring up at you. His expression was so emotional, mixed with both pity and something akin to happiness. He looks like he is approaching one of his wild dogs, moving very slow and cautiously. 

“Why?” Is all you manage to ask, when in reality you probably had hundreds of questions you wanted to ask them. But you don’t manage to eliquate a good question. It prompts Hannibal to step into the room fully, and you can now see that he is whipping his hands with a small cloth, indicating he was probably making something in his kitchen, like he always did. He cocks his head confused and Will scoots himself closer again. “That’s a very broad question. You’re going to have to reconvey.” Hannibal says. Your mouth scrunches up as the fake smile appears back on his face. It’s obvious you’re displeased, and you can’t help but grow a bit hostile. 

“Why am I here? Why do you murder innocent people?  Why am I alive?” You snap, looking at them with pure anger. It feels good, to finally tell them off again. Hannibal's fake smile drops, and he opens his mouth to reply but Will is already sitting by you, grabbing your hands in his. You’re too stunned to say anything. “We did it for you, can’t you see?” He pleads. But no, you still don’t understand. You will never understand. All you can feel at this point is exasperation. “You’re crazy. Neither of you even know what love means.” 

Will smiles, bringing your hands closer to his face, despite you half heartedly pulling them away. He kisses your knuckles gently. 

“Breakfast is ready.” Hannibal says, as if everything is normal. As if you’re not kidnapped. As if you’re not the cause of over 5 dead people. 

As if you love them.

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

sometime in this last week, or this week coming, my blog has turned/turns 10. god. a decade old. a whole ass chunk of my life i’ve spent on this hellsite. when i began on here, i was a kid. a lost, lonely, depressed and anxious 15/16 year old kid. a kid scared of her future. a kid confused about her future. what to do for uni. to change schools or not??? to do drama/acting at uni or english/philosophy or to move 8hrs away to another regional uni to “escape” her “washed up, dead end hometown” that was so typical of all the pop-punk music that she was listening to at the time.

she was a tad overdramatic, loud, “funny” (as described by her school friends) and terribly forgetful in regards to homework and school assignments. she was angry at the world, most especially the catholic school she was fucking sick and tired of attending. but she was convinced that since she was the so-called “funny girl”, that she simply couldn’t be depressed or anxious. she believed herself unloveable because she didn’t look like a weird mixture of hayley williams and emo-pop queen lights. but now, i no longer believe that i have to look like the women that i looked up to in the ~emo scene~. fuck beauty standards. i am loveable.

in the years since joining tumblr, i’ve managed to get through business college, my undergrad degree and, well, failed out of postgrad due to obvious burnout and health issues amongst other things. although i’ve lost many friends irl and many followers/mutuals online on here. for those who’ve stuck around to see me get through all of this, thank you. to all the friends/casual mutuals that have since deactivated or only followed me for a short time then unfollowed; thank you.

like obviously i was never/have never been a massive popular blog on here, like thebootydiaries or vampireapologist (who has since deactivated a couple of months ago) with tens of thousands of followers. my follower count is still close to the 8,000 range at 7,892. obviously that’s still a lot of people (and of course, porn bots lmao and many, many non-active blogs), enough like one super old post from like 2012 tumblr pointed out, enough for a small to medium sized city or town, or something like that. i don’t know how many people i’ve really reached. i really don’t know how i actually amassed this small army of people.

i am aware though, that on other platforms like snapchat (lmao does anyone even use it anymore in 2021???)/instagram/youtube/tiktok etc, i’d PROBABLY be considered as some type of ~micro influencer (🤮🤮)~. hell, i actually had a bot slide into my notes about being one on here on this hellsite back in 2019. i don’t know if i’ve ever actually ~influenced~ anyone on here with my shitposts (when i started making some) or my personal posts. i don’t know my reach. even though, now, i do occasionally get featured on buzzfeed listicles (although pay me buzzfeed along with the OPs of those original embedded posts), i still don’t know how many people i’ve reached… and even with my very occasional checks of google analytics lmao. on top of this, grappling with the loss of followers at times is much, much easier than it was when i began on here and the first few years following that. i know that my follower count doesn’t determine my worth and stuff.

but over these 10 years, i have grown. i turn 26 this year. back in 2011, 15/16yo me never thought she’d be here. she was partially down the suicidal thoughts hole, with things about ~picturing her funeral and wondering who’d bother to turn up. if only she could pretend to be dead for a day to see who’d give a fuck~ and 16-18yo me was defs down it with her HSC hellscape thoughts in 2012/2013. that 3rd floor tafe/tech women’s bathroom window drop and the thought of scarring her class for life (and that cool dude from catholic school that she crushed on who ended up at tafe with her) with jumping out of it onto the concrete below. instead, she just posted on fb about ~being a failure~ etc which ultimately did lose her a bunch of facebook friends lmao. it was practically the same thing. her mental breakdown after the end of her hsc, where she let her earrings go green and get infected in her ears because “fuck self care, bc what the fuck is it??? i’ll never get better! let me fucking wallow in my self loathing bc it’s the only thing that i’m fucking good at!!!” so i no longer have my ears pierced. oh! it was just all too fucking much!!

i am happier today. i no longer have those semi-suicidal thoughts. hell, i almost died in 2020 from a fucking bowel aneurysm, after my stomach tumour excision surgery. that forced me to put things into perspective. i appreciate the little things . i appreciate the very few friends that i actually have. yes. i’m still depressed and anxious. some days are still shitty and hard. but nowhere as hard and shitty as they were back when i began on here 10 years ago.

how the fuck last 10 years have gone past, with my ass on here; clearing out my blog and caring more about doing that than my uni work (lmao whoops); having made some lifelong friends both internationally (from the US) and long distance domestically in australia, it’s been a long ride; i honestly have no fucking idea. obviously over these past 10 years, i’ve debated with myself over and over and over again whether i should delete/deactivate this account or not. would it make me healthier??? more than likely. but then when i have meltdowns or just inner ramblings i have to get out somewhere, where else to post??? on fb?? obvs not. it’s “attention seeking” or the like on there. no one will read them. no one will resonate. but on here??? even if i got/get one “like” in the notes or one “yo i feel this” response in the tags or replies, it feels like i’ve reached someone??? okay yeah. i know this place IS NOT therapy and i’m not using my followers as amateur (or probs even actual professional) armchair psychologists…. which is a thing i think people need to stop doing internet-wide: but that’s a whole other post that i reblogged a few days ago lmao. i really need to get another therapist, actually lmao.

but it’s the community i’ve found hard to leave. i have what feel like friends, when i’ve never been employed (still as of yet); and when all of my irl friends/acquaintances are working and doing the whole ~adulting~ and ~grown up life~ thing right. it’s also the frenzied rabidness of spite with hating staff’s godawful ideas. the memes. oh the memes. and also the RaWrInG 20s XD emo scene reemergence on here that’s kept me here. the messy petty drama from time to time of big blogs fighting it out.

this place really is bizarre and fun sometimes. and also the fact that i can still hide behind the ridiculous “roaring pikachu” URL that i made all those years ago. i am anonymous. it’s freeing. but on fb it’s all like “WHY WONT YOU ADD A BANNER IMAGE AND TELL US 20 FUN FACTS ABOUT YOU!!!!!???? LET PEOPLE WHO HAVENT SPOKEN TO YOU IN 10 YEARS KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU BECAUSE WE’RE ALL FRIENDS HERE!!!” and the same goes for Corporate Hellscape Facebook™️ (linkedin) but in the professional sense instead. y’all know fuck all about me really. besides my posts. and i love that and live for that. okay yeah. y’all know more about my mental health than my fb feed obvs… which is probably a terribly unfortunate thing. but still.

over the last 10 years then, my superiority complex for being ~so original and intelligent~ or whatever the fuck i had in high school, has all but ebbed away. i’m not that smart just because i went to uni. hell, i literally did NONE of my in-class work and none of my philosophy readings in uni….. so i have fuck all idea of how i got through undergrad like that lmao. i’m not original when so many people can articulate the same thoughts that i have, but like, sometimes better, on a post (even though sometimes/most of the time the Tumblr User Hot Takes Tuesday™️ takes on here are fucking awful lmao). but still. originality is not something i really have anymore. or really had in the first place lmao.

so will i deactivate after these 10 years, like i’ve been saying for so, so long??? i honestly have no idea. but just know. thanks guise. have a nice gpoy selfie day XD. grab your wands. your tardises. grab your war paint. grab your whatever the fuck other fandom specific stuff that was one that hella cringe post from 2011 til 2015 random tumblr. that relic is as old as time itself. just as this mysterious roaring pikachu is for someone whose too loyal to leave this W E B B E D H E L L S I T E that’s just as much of a train wreck as she is. lmao.

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter Twenty- Three - Goodbye is a Silent Word (Part Two)

I woke up the following morning, my sleeping son curled against me. The book I had been reading to him was neatly placed on the nightstand, and a warm comforter covered me. My heart grew warm with the thought that my husband had come to check up on us, as he would normally do before all of this had happened.

The truth was, I barely saw Victor ever since the piano incident. He had locked himself inside the study, writing the eulogy, and didn’t even bother answering me when I had come to ask if he was hungry. It was evident that he wanted to be left alone, so, as a good doting wife, I complied. Even if it hurt me. Even if my heart wrung itself with agony.

Owen stirred by my side, probably sensing that I was awake. His big brown eyes stared at me expectantly, as if to gauge my mood. It had been a weird couple of days, so it was no surprise that the boy felt somewhat unstable. I gave him my best reassuring smile.

“Good morning, sleepy bug.” I playfully poked his nose. “Did you sleep well?”

“You slept here?” He frowned. "Where's Dad?”

I had no idea where he was or how he was. I also had no idea of what to say, so the only solution I had was to lie.

“You know him, he's probably busy with the funeral.”

The boy stared at me in a very familiar way, his gaze very similar to the one his father used to give me when he felt something was off. After a moment, he seemed to shrug it off, smiling at me instead.

“I’m hungry. Can we go have breakfast?”

“Sure can!” I got up and offered my back for him to climb, which he happily did. “Come on, my hungry caterpillar. Let’s get you showered and fed so you may become a butterfly.”

“Did you know that monarch caterpillars eat about twenty milkweed leaves in one day?”

“That’s probably why they are so chubby and cute! Just like my little bug!”

“I’m not chubby!” He complained, giggling. “Just cute.”

The house smelled like flowers and candle wax, and had a more solemn feel to it. It was easy to assume Mina’s body had returned from the morgue and was already in the house. I walked with Owen to the kitchen, hearing the clinking of silverware and glasses.

“There you are, good morning!” Terry greeted. “Sit and eat, Susan just made some eggs. Do you like eggs, Owen?”

“Yes, I’d like some, please.” He sat down, folding his hands in his lap, waiting to be served.

As soon as I saw that he was happily eating, I turned to Terry.

“Where’s Victor?” I whispered.

“In the living room.” She answered with a nod. “Spent all night in there. I told him to go to bed, but he didn’t want to leave her alone.”

“Will you-”

“I’ll take care of Owen. Go see if you can convince him to have some breakfast.”

I entered the living room like it was a church, and for a moment I thought I heard an echo of my footsteps. Victor was sitting in the chair next to the coffin, lost in thought. His eyes showed the familiar traces of a night spent awake.

I stood in place for a moment, not knowing what to do, when the realization hit me. For the first time in years, I was afraid to get closer to him. It was like we had gone back to the days when he was simply a CEO, and I an intern, and all the steps we had made to get to where we were before had magically vanished. I couldn’t help but feel like I didn’t know him anymore and he didn’t want me anymore.

My mind scolded my heart for having such thoughts. I was being selfish, getting my feelings in the way of what I should do as a wife. I had married that man, all of him, the good and the bad. Would I be the kind of person who cowers when things get rough? Hell no.

I sat beside him, expecting to be sent away, but I wouldn’t let that deter me. Wanting me there or not, my husband would know I would always be there for him. I couldn’t promise to be perfect, but I did vow to be loyal.

“Did you spend the night in here?” I tried.

He blinked, as if he was emerging from his thoughts, and by his expression, they were very painful ones.

“I did.” He paused for a moment. “Did… you and Owen sleep well?”

Maybe he was overly emotional, or simply exhausted, but I could feel him letting his guard down for a second. He reminded me of a wounded animal somehow, too afraid to ask for help, suspicious of the world that hurt him in the first place. I would have to tread lightly.

“Yes.” I nodded. “If you want to, I can be with her for a moment, while you get something to eat. You skipped dinner.”

I grimaced internally as I saw his poker face return. I had spoken too much, called out on his fragility, and God forbid Victor would admit he wasn’t doing well in any way.

“No need.” He dismissed me. “I’m fine.”

“At least let me-” I motioned to take Victor’s hand, words failing me as I saw him pull his hand away.

I knew the cold version of Victor, the one with all the walls, feelings kept inside hidden, away from the world. But the walls he had built had cracks, and the light seeping through those cracks was exactly what made me fall in love with him. It showed me that, even though he did his best to conceal his loving and sensitive spark, it was there and it was very bright. It was just a defense mechanism, because when Victor felt, he felt very strongly and very deeply. I had never seen him like this, the walls so thick no light would show. And it was starting to become clear he had no intention of letting me in.

“Victor...” I felt my eyes sting.

“I can’t.” His voice was merely a whisper.

It seemed to be a thing of ours now, letting unspoken words fall heavy on us. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to, anyway. I walked out of the living room, my mind doing its best to numb itself. It felt too painful to think or to feel.

I became fully alert when I heard Terry speak from the kitchen.

“I beg of you, now is not the time.”

"Do I need to remind you this place used to belong to me? That I let you live here for free? Is that how you thank me?” I heard him chastise his sister.

God, no. It had been almost a year since I had last seen him.

I opened the door slowly, hoping I had heard wrong. But there he was, in his expensive fur coat, the same expression of someone who doesn’t have time to bother with anything but himself. Terry was pale as a ghost, leaning against the wall, while my son sat at the table, seemingly confused with the interaction.

"Since my son won’t bother to call his own father, I thought I would see him here. He has always been fond of the housekeeper, for some reason.”

“What do you want, Gregory?” I spoke, protectively resting my hand on Owen’s shoulder.

“Finally, someone who can be of use.” He turned to me with a condescending look, like I was one of his servants. “Where 's my son?”

Oh, no, you won’t.

“What do you want with Victor?” I challenged. “I’m sure it isn’t to apologize for the way you behaved at our wedding.”

“Children should honor their parents, not the opposite.” He looked at my side, to my son, with an amused smile. “Speaking of which, I see you brought your stray.”

I was suddenly blinded by rage, ready to go for his throat if he dared to speak another word. How dared he insult my son? I wasn’t a violent person, but I suddenly became thirsty for blood, eager to put that bitch of a sperm donor in his place. I was stopped by Victor’s icy voice, coming from behind me.

“Leave.”

Victor didn’t look angry. In fact, he looked calm and composed, and if someone saw this scene from afar, they would probably mistake it for an amicable interaction. However, everyone in the room could feel Victor’s menacing aura, like he was a dangerous beast ready to attack, only waiting for the right moment. I instinctively pulled Owen behind me, expecting bloodshed.

“I will not be told what-”

“I said. Leave.” Victor’s voice was contained, but menacing. “You will not disrespect my family.”

He was laser-focused, in full control of his body, his eyes full of danger yet his expression cold and detached. Every muscle, every breath, every thought was now aimed at his father, and it was clear he wouldn’t hesitate to shred him to pieces if he felt the need. I didn’t know this Victor at all, and to be honest, I didn’t want to see him again. I knew I couldn’t possibly imagine the things he was capable of.

Gregory apparently could, or at least recognized the real danger of the situation, as he cleared his throat and gave a discreet step back.

“Probably for the best. I’ll leave you to mourn the housekeeper.”

Josh had told me all that had happened between Gregory and Victor right before our wedding, and how close the old man was to get his nose broken by his son, so it was surprising to see that he was still trying to provoke him. I braced myself for a stormy reaction from Victor. None came. Victor kept his steely eyes and cold demeanor, not moving one inch.

“I’m sure you can see yourself out.”

Terry and I watched Victor in awe, surprised the old man would live to see another day. The hot tension in the kitchen lingered, as Victor kept his eyes focused on his father, watching him slowly walk away.

“Who was that man?” Owen peeked from behind me.

Victor turned to his son, the tension from the previous interaction not fully gone.

“You are not to listen to a single word that bastard says, do you understand me?” His authoritative, icy tone made Owen flinch.

“Yes, Sir.”

I wasn’t sure if Victor had heard Owen’s answer, as he returned to the living room without another word.

The funeral was simple and tasteful, with very few people, including me and Victor. It was odd, knowing Mina, that the funeral would have such low attendance. She was such a loving and caring woman, it would be expected that the world would honor her existence. As it sometimes happens with the purest things in life, Mina’s death seemed to be ignored.

However, all present paid respects to the deceased, either by saying a few words or reading a passage of some book they liked. Until it was Victor’s turn.

He got up quietly, steadily, like he would when he was in a business meeting. But I could see the twitch of his fingers, the sad look in his eyes. It was clear that, although seemingly composed, Victor had a raging war inside him. He took a piece of paper from his suit jacket’s pocket and started reading.

“Whillemina Jordan was born on October 11th, 1949, in Loveland. Her dream was to become an actress, but when her father fell ill with a mysterious bone disease, she had to work to feed the family, so her mother could take care of her siblings. During her life...”

Victor paused for a moment, staring at the paper. He folded it back in, putting it in his pocket. For some reason, he had decided to speak from the heart.

“Mina was a loving and caring woman. She was forgiving, never entertaining a single negative feeling in her heart. But most of all, she was wise. She had the kind of wisdom that cannot be attained through education, but only through the course of a painful life. And yet, she had nothing but love and joy to give. Mina.” Victor paused again, his voice faltering almost inaudibly. “You will be missed.”

I could see it perfectly. In that small pause existed the silent goodbye that Victor wasn’t yet able to say. It entailed sweet childhood memories and caring moments, the ones only shared between a mother and her child. It entailed all of the moments that were yet to come, when Victor would need a mother figure, and miss her. It also entailed the hug that Victor wanted to give her, the words he meant to say to her, the moments that never came to be. I could feel Victor’s sorrow deep in my heart, so I moved to the piano, letting it spill all over the piano keys.

It dawned on me later that, even not being able to make a family of her own, she did have a family: except for Victor, there wasn’t a dry face in that funeral. Mina did have loved ones, we were right there, crying for her. And she had a son, who gave up on control momentarily to honor her, who carried her casket and stayed behind until the very end, when most people had left the cemetery.

We drove straight home, in silence, Owen drifting off in the back. The reality of our situation came rushing back as we got closer to Loveland. The lawsuit, our fight, all of that filled the silence between us, and it became impossible to breathe. We walked into the apartment without a word, and i took our son straight to his bedroom to put him in bed.

“Isn’t Dad going to kiss me goodnight?” There was a deep sadness in the boy’s voice.

I looked at the door behind me, waiting for Victor to come and lean on the doorframe, like he did every night. The doorframe remained painfully lonely.

“Dad is probably tired, he must have gone to bed already.” I downplayed it with a forced smile. “You’ll talk to him in the morning.”

“Dad would never go to bed without kissing me goodnight.” Owen spat at me. “You won’t tell me, but I know he’s mad at me. Whatever I did, it wasn’t on purpose!”

I held my son’s face between my hands, staring deeply at the desperation in his eyes.

“Listen to me, Bug.” I spoke to his pain, wanting to send it away. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Your father is sad, and he doesn’t know how to express it. It’s not your fault.”

Big brown eyes stared at me, and I felt him relax.

“Go to bed, get some sleep.” I pecked his forehead. “You have school tomorrow.”

“Ok.” He buried himself in the comforter. “Goodnight Mom.”

“Goodnight, my little bug.”

I closed the door to Owen’s room slowly, trying to placate myself. This had gone too far. I could accept that Victor was hurting, I could accept that he was angry at me and I probably deserved the punishment he was giving me, I could even accept that he kept me at bay. But hurting my son? I would not accept that.

I went to the bedroom, only to find it empty. When I reached the main hallway, I saw the light in the study was on. He was probably in there, drinking. Disregarding our son. Disregarding me. It was getting harder and harder for me to keep calm. I opened the study door unceremoniously. As I expected, he had taken his tie and suit jacket off and was helping himself with some whiskey.

“You’re drinking?” I gave him an accusatory look. “Your son is in bed, worrying about why his father didn’t even bother to kiss him goodnight, and you are here drinking?”

“Not now, Andrea.” He sighed in annoyance. And then I saw the exhaustion in his eyes.

Victor was shutting me out, putting on a brave face, but this was the man that carried his mother’s casket. This was the man that lost the one person that held him through it all his whole life and was also at risk of losing his son. This was the man whose father only wanted to hurt, and not to comfort. And although I was right there, he probably couldn’t help but feel lonely. I took a deep breath to calm myself down.

“Look, I know this is a very hard day for you, and I understand, I really do.” I looked at him earnestly, waiting for him to meet my gaze. “I know who you lost. But our son needs you.”

Victor turned away, deciding to ignore me.

“Look, I know we had a fight and I know you are angry at me. But we can sort this out. I’m right here, talk to me.”

“Are you?” He asked with a bitter voice. “Are you really? Because two days ago you weren’t even sure you wanted to keep our son. Are you sure you want to keep us?”

“Oh no, you don’t get to make accusations like that!” I raised my voice, the rage coming full force now. “I am not the one running away to lick my wounds, ostracizing my child in the process! You do not get to tell me I’m abandoning my family!”

“Right.” He gave me a bitter chuckle.

“Look, I know you haven’t had it easy these last two days, but guess what? Neither have I! I let you take it out on me, endured all the times you gave me the cold shoulder, smiled and reassured our son when you ignored him, I was there for my family!” The words poured out of me, raw and sharp, and I found I couldn’t stop them. “I understand you are hurting, and I am sorry! I’m sorry your mother left you, I am sorry that your father is a narcissistic prick, and I am sorry that the woman that practically raised you died. Hell, I’m even sorry that I didn’t meet your impossible standards, but that does not give you the right to ignore our son and break his heart! You are acting just like your father!”

I covered my mouth with a gasp, appalled with the words that had just come out of my mouth. Of all the blows, this one was the cheapest. And also the deadliest. I watched Victor freeze in place, his eyes on the ground, fully aware that the moment he would look up, I would see the rage in them.

“Leave.” His tone was monotonous, yet sharp as a knife.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Let’s just-”

“I said LEAVE!” He roared. “NOW!

I jumped when I heard the loud crash right beside me, unable to register what it was. Until I saw the glass in shards on the floor, the wall behind me dripping with whiskey. His outburst triggered something in me, and I bolted out of the study. I leaned against the bedroom wing’s wall, trying hard to steady my shaking body and catch a breath, when I saw Owen next to me.

“What happened?” He looked at me with tears in his eyes. I immediately forgot my own fright and went straight to comforting mode.

“It’s ok, my sleepy bug, everything is alright.” I said, after quickly wiping my tears. “Go to bed, it’s late.”

“Did he hurt you?” He sobbed.

“No, he wouldn’t do that.” I reassured the boy. “He’s just upset, that’s all.”

“Can you sleep with me tonight? I’m scared.” He begged.

“Just for tonight, agreed? Ok, off to bed we go, tomorrow you have to be up bright and early.”

As Owen climbed into bed, I shut myself in his bathroom for a moment. All of this was surreal. This wasn’t Victor. Victor would never do that, he would never act like that, he would never be violent, or turn his back on the people he loved or shatter a glass against a wall, no matter how dire things were… Would he?

I quickly took a hand towel from a drawer and stuffed it in my mouth, trying to conceal the wrenching sobs I could no longer keep in, as I considered a second option. Maybe Victor hadn’t changed, the circumstances did. Maybe he found it easy to turn his back on me because our fight the day before had been the last blow in our relationship. My husband could be that unforgiving if pushed hard enough. I let myself slide to the ground, unable to keep myself up, the anguish taking full force. I had lost him. I was losing it all. Owen and Victor. My whole life. All the reasons to be happy.

I left the bathroom a while later, empty of tears. Owen had fallen asleep in the meantime, but I laid next to him anyway. I wanted to make the best of these moments, even if they were bittersweet, because I would probably no longer have them. I hugged my sleeping boy tight, burying my nose in his curls, treasuring him the best I could.

When people pass away, we feel sad that we didn’t get to say goodbye, like goodbye is something that needs to be heard to be acknowledged. That’s a lie. Goodbyes can be a mere hesitation. Goodbyes can be a glass shattered against a wall. And even though they aren’t voiced, even when they are silent, they can still hold an ocean of words in them, and mean the end of a marriage.

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

Summer Nights: Part 1

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x Overweight/Plus size Female identifying Reader

Series: Summer Nights

Warning: Fred’s death, the series will mention issues such as guilt, grief, etc.

Writer:  @writings-of-a-hufflepuff​ (formerly imaginesofeveryfandom)​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Summary/Request: You’d always had brief glimpses of Charlie Weasley throughout your life, but despite your closeness with the rest of the Weasley family and your friendship with the Weasley Twins, you had never officially met. Until Charlie Weasley decided to take the summer off from his work as a Dragon Keeper at the Romanian Reserve and come back home, to the Burrow, that is. 

Notes: Gif is my own, using my art of Charlie Weasley which you can find on my art blog @artisticwarnug here. If you use please make sure you credit me and my art blog properly, that the ownership is clear as it is my own art and I would hate for it to be unclear that I made it <3 x 

Reader was a Hufflepuff in school but it probably won’t be mentioned that much!

Prologue 

After the war you’d found it harder and harder to spend long periods of time with your family. Not only were you working and living within a magical world that they were not a part of, but they didn’t know of the war or understand the true trauma of the experience for you and most of the wizarding community. You’d lost one of your best friends...Fred wasn’t coming back and your family had no idea that any of it even occurred. You’d seen your own friend alive one minute, and dead the next. Nothing could quite compare to the feeling, like choking on your own breath. Like drowning.

As a result you not only lived with the Weasley’s, Molly protesting whenever you tried to pay her money (you had Bill help you put some into their vault anyway, feeling the need to give them something for their kindness), but spent most of your holidays there as well, rarely returning home for Christmas, Easter, or the summer time. As much as you loved your family you struggled to be around them and they didn’t understand you either. 

In your grief you’d found that helping others made it easier, or at least helped you forget the feelings of guilt and grief that sat so heavy in your stomach. Helping George get back on his feet, helping Lee get his enthusiasm back, helping Mrs Weasley with dinner and around the house, helping everyone just seemed to make it easier to handle. That and working relatively long hours as a healer at St. Mungo’s often took your mind off of the war and what had been lost. You often chose to hide your feelings from the war behind Hufflepuff cheer. But, sometimes you wished someone would notice. You didn’t blame them for not, everyone had their own problems, your remaining best friends most of all. Grief and running a business took much attention. 

You woke up that Saturday morning fully aware that you should get out of bed, but that you didn’t want to. It wasn’t a particularly important Saturday, no plans had been made, no work to be done, no visitors expected. Yet, it would turn out to be a Saturday that completely changed your whole life. 

Since moving into the Burrow, 2 years prior, you had been staying in Fred and George’s old room, seeing as George lived above the Flat. You had spent the first few weeks simply making sure the room was safe, the twins had left many pranks around their room, but also all sorts of potion ingredients. You’d packed everything up and taken it to the Flat...It had been hard, going through all their childhood things with George. Hard for you, but harder for George. Years on and George was doing better, but you knew he still didn’t feel complete, like something was missing. But he slept better, stopped having nightmares, and generally seemed to have some of his old cheer back. It helped that Angelina was there for him as well. He was moving on and growing happier each day. 

The few things that you had been given by the Weasley family included clothes. At first it had been odd, being given some of Bill or Charlie or George’s old clothes to wear to bed or around the house. But, that had gone away quite quickly considering the oversized quidditch jerseys, jumpers, and shirts, were incredibly comfortable. Bill’s fit most snug, being a plump woman, with wide hips and a stomach, and Bill being one of the lankier of the Weasley’s. George and Charlie’s clothes fit much larger on you, however, seeing as they were some of the broader, stockier Weasley’s. It still surprised you that Charlie had been a seeker and not a beater.

The night previous you’d gone to bed in Charlie’s old quidditch jersey and a pair of pajama trousers with little snitches on, that had previously belonged to George. The trousers were much too long on you, covering your feet, and the Jersey while it clung to your hips was loose in every other aspect. It was a pairing that you enjoyed simply for its comfort. It was not something the Weasley’s even blinked at or questioned, after all you’d been gifted the clothes and had been wearing them for the last few years. So you hadn’t really thought twice, as you stumbled out of bed, feet hitting the powder stained floor, about going to breakfast as you were. 

You yawned loudly, covering your mouth with your hand, as you walked into the kitchen, not really taking in which Weasley’s were at the table, being much too tired to do so. 

“Morning” You sighed out as you grabbed a plate and collected your breakfast, Mrs Weasley having already placed dishes of eggs, toast, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, and sausages out on the dining table. 

“Good morning, dear!” Mrs Weasley called back, followed by a variety of familiar Weasley voices, and one that you did not recognise, that gave you pause. 

You wouldn’t say you were mortified to look up from your breakfast and realise that Charlie Weasley, the very attractive Charlie Weasley, was sitting in front of you, with an amused half smile and a raised eyebrow. But, you certainly were mildly embarrassed, simply because you were not exactly dressed for introductions and you were almost certain that you had a million knots in your hair. 

“Uh, hello...” You wave awkwardly, a little stinted, with an embarrassed smile. 

“Hello, love. I see mum finally gave away my jersey” You’re certain that Charlie is trying not to laugh, although you don’t feel hurt by this fact. Much like the rest of the Weasley’s Charlie comes across as laughing with you rather than at you. 

“I can...you can have it back, I...”

“It’s alright, looks better on you than it does on me. Might be a tad small for me now actually.” You relax at his easy going manner about it. You were sure it would be a little weird for the second oldest Weasley to finally meet someone while said someone was wearing his clothes. But, apparently not. 

“Y/N, right? I don’t think we’ve properly met?”

It had been two years since you’d last seen Charlie Weasley, that had been at Fred’s funeral and you’d not really taken much notice of him at the time. You had been, naturally, more concerned with and consumed by your own grief and the proceedings before you. 

You’d forgotten how handsome Charlie was. With broad shoulders and deep red hair, pulled back into a ponytail. Charlie was by far the most freckled of the Weasley’s with dense freckles across his face and sharp jaw, down his neck, and over his arms. The last time you’d seen Charlie he’d been dressed in a full suit, covered head to toe, the time before that he’d been a teenager, now you realised that he had a tattoo that you had never previously seen. It was a beautiful tattoo, a welsh green on his neck that twisted its head and puffed smoke from its nostrils. 

“We haven’t, just crossed paths, here and there. Surprising, really.”

“Considering you are not only friends with my brothers...” he pauses just a moment, before correcting himself, “brother, and have been living here, yeah, just a little surprising. Hufflepuff, right?”

“Yeah, managed to make Head Girl in the end, much to...much to Fred and George’s delight.” It was still odd wanting to mention them both, but realising that one of them wasn’t around anymore. But, it was true, Fred and George had teased you for weeks, over the fact that you, best friend to the biggest pranksters at Hogwarts, managed to make Head Girl. “Are you still working at the reserve in Romania?” 

“Yeah, thought I'd be head keeper by now...but...”

“Bad boss?” 

“He’s not bad, but we don’t see eye to eye when it comes to the dragons.” You raise an eyebrow, curious for him to continue. You’d never really been especially good at Care of Magical Creatures but that didn’t mean it wasn’t fascinating to you. “He wants to commercialise the reserve, make it a place people can come visit rather than a place for us to keep the dragons from the Muggles. Daft really, dragons’ll sooner eat a bunch of tourists than sit pretty for them.” 

“The reserves aren’t supposed to be tourist attractions though...why would...surely that’s dangerous and also not exactly fair on the dragons?”

“Oh, it’s definitely dangerous, it takes multiple keepers to restrain a dragon and the dragons aren’t exactly in cages on the reserve like a muggle zoo. Luckily he hasn’t gone through with the idea...yet.” He frowns in a way that tells you he suspects it’ll happen anyway and his tone suggests irritation with the situation. You’re sure for someone who loves dragons so much and wants them to be kept away from muggles and left to their own devices, it must be terribly frustrating. 

There’s a beat of silence as you continue eating. You feel a little awkward, although that certainly isn’t Charlie’s fault. It’s made worse by the sensation of Mrs Weasley’s eyes on the two of you. You were more than aware that Mrs Weasley’s one goal in life since the war had been to marry off each of her children, you included in that. Ginny had since been dating Harry, Ron was with Hermione, George was with Angelina, Bill was already married and Percy...you weren’t sure about Percy.  But, that left Charlie as the oldest single Weasley child, and yourself...still not dating much to Molly’s dismay. She was constantly asking you if you’d met anyone lately. 

“You’re a healer right?”

“At St. Mungo’s, on the Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites, although I'm often dragged away if someone's had a few too many hexes that have interacted poorly.”

“Ever had any dragon bites?”

“Once, a Peruvian Vipertooth, lady was in a right state for a while. Came out the other end though.” 

“Nasty bites, aggressive little buggers. You’d probably have a field day on the reserve the amount of bites and burns we have each day.” At that Charlie lifted his own arms to show an array of burn scars and old bite marks. Some had healed well, others less so.

You pointed at one, “Looks like you avoided seeing the healer.” You raise an eyebrow and make the face you learnt from Madam Pomphrey, the one that explicitly says you disapprove of avoiding proper medical care. You’d spent a great deal of time with Poppy not just because of the twins but also because she’d helped you prepare for your healer training. 

He lets out a slightly nervous laugh and looks away from you, red rushing up his neck in traditional Weasley fashion at being caught, “Didn’t want to bother anyone, it wasn’t serious. No need to worry, love.” You grab his arm and pull it closer to get a closer look. Trying to ignore the fact he had very strong forearms and incredibly warm skin.

Working on the Serious Bites Ward meant that you had a good eye for bite marks and what might have made them. Some dragons had very distinct bite marks. A Peruvian Viper Tooth had a different set of teeth to a Hungarian Horntail for instance. 

“Ukranian Ironbelly, right? Young one, by the looks of it.” 

“Just a baby really, got a bit over excited is all. Hurt like a bludger to the head though.”

“You should always see the reserve healer, you know? You could get a serious infection from a bite like this.” You let go of his arm and lean back in your chair, arms crossed, fixing him with the same look again. 

“I would if our healer was as nice as you. He’s got the personality of a fire crab who’s had its tail yanked.” You try not to take the compliment as more than it is. 

“Grumpy and explosive?” You knew a few healers like that. They didn’t exactly have the best bedside manner and it made many a witch or wizard reluctant to seek treatment. 

“Exactly. Augustus Pye still working on the ward? He tried to give dad stitches that time...” 

“Yes...” You sigh, it wasn’t that Augustus was a horrible person to work with so to speak, but you’d had a few awkward encounters with him when you’d first started working on the ward. 

“You don’t sound happy about that?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the man...he just...it's a very small ward you see and he may have...there were a few times where...”

“He asked her out on a date and she said no and embarrassed the poor bastard.” George’s voice comes from behind you with a laugh, before he takes the seat besides you. You’d been flattered, really you had, but, Augustus wasn’t someone you were particularly attracted to. Not physically, nor intellectually nor in regard to his personality. He was nice...but that was just it. You hadn’t expected to go into work and be asked on a date, either, it had been all a bit of a shock really...you hadn’t gotten a great deal of romantic attention in school. Being a big girl meant that boys were more inclined to tease you than date you. Not that you were upset about that, teenage boys were the worst. 

“Thank you, George. I obviously couldn’t disclose that myself.” You roll your eyes

“I still don’t know how you did it, you’re far too nice to say no to anyone.”

“I...” You look at all the curious eyes watching you, feeling a wave of genuine embarrassment as you realise you’re going to have to tell them the truth...that you’d really struggled to say no and had instead, “told him I was already seeing someone, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings!” You protest as George lets out a loud laugh next to you.

“It’s not funny, George! I was very flattered but...I didn’t want to tell him he was just...meh! How do you let someone down nicely? At least this way he thinks it's because i’m already taken not because I find him lacklustre!” 

“Just say it. You don’t find him attractive, you don’t want him to ravage you in the store room, it’s not that hard. You do know you’re an adult and not thirteen, right?” 

You let out an unhappy moan as you let your face fall into your hands at George’s teasing. 

“George Weasley!” You hear Molly scold him about talking about private matters such as ‘ravaging’ and teasing you so much, before turning her attention to you. “It’s okay not to like someone, dear, you don’t have to lie to save someone else’s feelings. Although, it would have been lovely for you to go on a date...it’s been a while, dear.” 

“Mum.” Charlie gave his mother a look which you knew too well, many of the Weasley children had given their mother that exact same look whenever she tried to encourage them to find a date. It was a relief to have someone else tell her to leave well enough alone. You loved Mrs Weasley dearly, but you’d rather date someone you wanted to rather than date someone simply to please her. 

“Oh, alright. Charlie, I need you and Ron to degnome the garden, you too George since you’re here. Y/N, dear, could you water the vegetables in the garden today?”

“Of course, Molly.” You’d long since learnt not to call her Mrs Weasley to her face. Molly hated any of her ‘adopted children’ calling her Mrs Weasley, Harry and Hermione still hadn’t quite gotten out of the habit yet though. Much to Molly’s dismay. 

After much more teasing from George and a shy goodbye to Charlie, you rushed up the stairs to get ready for the day. A day that might very well end with Charlie Weasley being the death of you, death by embarrassment that is.

[anythingbutmar]

Mistake

Diego Hargreeves x reader

Summary: After you turned 18, Diego and you pretty much distanced from the other members of the academy, so when you all meet for Reginald’s funeral you have some explaining to do.

A/N: I kinda love this concept but I changed a few details of this request so the reader is not raised as a sibling and her relationship with the others is in no way familial. I missed writing, specially for Diego, so thanks anon! This is quite long too, so sorry about that. I had a lot of fun too, so let me know if you’d like me to make this into a series, cause I might do it.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of homelessness, but overall just fluff and a bit of angst.

You liked to say that the life you made by yourself happened because of a simple mistake, because you had come across the Umbrella Academy on a very particular way.

You could say you had a decent upbringing, your mother wasn’t abusive but she was pretty much the definition of overprotective, and as a child you were never told that it was because a man had literally tried to buy you on the day you were born, in fact, you didn’t know anything about him or the children he managed to adopt because your mother and grandparents wouldn’t let you get anywhere near any piece of information of whatever existed outside your little hometown.

They told you they were doing it because your father had left you when you were just a baby and they wanted to protect you from the dangers of foreign men, of course you thought that you were born from a normal pregnancy, and you believed everything, that and the fact that you could control any element to your will, which they said was wrong and kept hidden. You were homeschooled, and you could only socialize with the kids from your neighborhood which was good, but it wasn’t enough, and we all now overprotectiveness can really mess with someone’s mind.

And so, even though you went along with it for many years, when one of your only friends suggested you both snuck out for a party on the big city for your sixteenth birthday you couldn’t say no, and that was the mistake, if it is possible to call it like that.

On the best Rapunzel style you went out your bedroom window, got on a bus and drank so much alcohol you completely passed out on a strangers lap and woke up on an unknown bed with a beautiful woman smiling down at you. Well, maybe that wasn’t Rapunzel’s style, but it sure felt like it at first.

The next series of events happened so fast it almost felt like a dream. You met a handful of strange children, one of which you later remembered had brought you there while being just as drunk as you were, his name was Klaus, and he later became the best friend you ever had; then you had the most overwhelming conversation of your life, in which an incredibly mean old man explained how you were actually born and made you understand just how different and important you were, but not in the wholesome way.

About an hour later your mother stormed through the academy looking for you, but one of the girls whispered something in her ear on her dad’s command which changed your mom’s entire attitude, with her allowing you to stay as if it was a boarding school, or so she told you, but she only visited once every few months and she didn’t seem as caring as before. According to Allison, that was in no way her fault, and you believed her, because at the end of the day you trusted your newfound friends much more than the woman that lied to you your entire life.

And so, you learnt to control your ability like never before, while also enduring Reginald’s cruel treatment, but it didn’t matter at all, because in the midst of everything you found Diego, and with him came all the things you never experienced before. He brought you happiness, love, trust and overall, lust for life.

Two years later you were living your best teenage secret romance. You snuck out at nights to visit all the parts from the city that he wanted you to meet, and you shared tiny kisses whenever Reginald and the kids weren’t watching. But Diego left, just like he had planned since he was a kid, and you weren’t brave enough to follow him. It wasn’t until his other siblings started leaving too that you realized that no matter how hard it was to be outside on your own, holding on to life with him was better than anything else. It was actually thanks to Allison, the smart girl had noticed you two holding hands under the table and knew just how heartbroken you were without him. “Chase him, Y/N, you won’t have this opportunity ever again.” She said right before she left, and she was absolutely right.

It took you less than a week to find him on a motel, bruised as ever and with barely enough money to pay for another night, and in between hugs, kisses and forbidden touches you promised him that you’d both get out of there. He told you he had been on that place for three weeks and a half, but the first few days after leaving the academy he had to sleep on a park bench until he gathered enough money by playing with his knifes to amuse people on the street. It had been hard, but now that you were together everything was so much better.

After many years living in the back room of a rusty gym, both of you taking turns in wiping it’s floors while also trying to study and save people at nights, because the one thing you learned from Reginald was that you loved helping people, and Diego’s vigilantism was just as appealing to you as it was to him. Diego was accepted into the police force and you finished your studies on a cheap school, which allowed you both to get a job you liked, and when you were finally able to buy a house for yourselves Diego proposed.

“Y/N, before you arrived my life was a nightmare, and all I ever wanted was to stay as far away from that place as it was possible, and everything that reminded me of it I planned on cutting from my life, but you arrived with your sweet smile, your shy eyes and those damn legs, and you completely switched my view of the world because I knew right there that I would love you forever, and I do. I love to see you in your weird ass robe, making potions-”

“I’m a chemist babe, not a witch.” You corrected him laughing.

“Let me finish Y/N!” He laughed with you. “I love how you treated me and my siblings, and I love how you helped mom, and god! I love how you used to beat bad guys with fucking wind on our nights out! I love everything about you sweetheart, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” By then you were both crying, and of course you said yes, how could you not?

Cut to ten years later and the day you had silently both dreaded and hoped for came. Reginald Hargreeves was dead, and you couldn’t even tell if you were sad about it, after all, the man had saved you from Mother Gothel, as Diego and you started calling her after watching Tangled with your daughters, but he saved you at what cost? You now had quite a few burn scars in your body from his dangerous training, you loved each one of them because they reminded you just how powerful you were, but still, no teenager should have to go through that.

And you couldn’t even get started on Diego. You wondered how and when he would take the news. He was out on his monthly vigilante night, which was kind of a gift you gave to each other, you were allowed to leave for the night once every month on different days because now that you had kids you could no longer risk your life everyday like you used to before. The kids, oh boy, what were you gonna do with your beloved girls? You weren’t sure if taking them to the funeral with you was the right decision, you wanted to shelter them from death and all the evil things in the world, but then again, you weren’t your mother, and you had no one to leave them with.

Just as you were thinking about maybe even staying, your husband entered your home, and he looked destroyed. It was one in the morning and you had been waiting for him while thinking of Reginald, and clearly he had been thinking about the same thing. You quickly stood up and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“He’s d-dead.” He stuttered on your shoulder. He didn’t even sound sad, he just seemed shocked.

“Shh, I know baby, I know.” You stood there for a while, just comforting each other in the middle of your kitchen before going to bed, you needed to rest for the next day because you knew it would be anything but ordinary.

And in the blink of an eye you were ringing the bell of the academy, each of your girls holding their father’s hand, the three of them standing behind you in your small, useless effort to protect them.

Grace opened up, and you couldn’t be happier to see her. You gave her a small hug and then gave Diego some space so he could properly say hi to his beloved mother. He introduced Luna and Amber and she was delighted to see Diego in a stable, loving family, she just seemed a bit off, but you’d talk to Diego about that later.

And then... Lord help you, you entered the livingroom and ran headfirst into Klaus who instantly hugged you, twirling you around and making you laugh as you both landed on the floor.

“Y/N, love! How have you been?” He sat up, looking at the doorframe, as he seemed to notice the two pair of eyes that stared in curiosity. “Oh I see you’ve gotten busy! Hello my little munchkins, I’m your uncle Klaus!”

“Wait Y/N/N, you’re with Diego now?” Luther asked from the other side of the room. Despite his rivalry with your now husband, you were quite close to him during your small time on the academy.

“Honestly Luther, I love you, but you can be quite oblivious sometimes.” You stood up with his help and hugged him tightly, getting a comforting feeling from his embrace.

“I’m here too, you know, your brother, Diego?” He finally entered, still holding your daughters’s hands and analizing the scene.

“It’s not our fault that you can’t say hi to anybody.” Allison came from behind him, scaring him, which made the girls laughing.

“Hi Allison.” He mumbled, rolling his eyes at his sister.

“I always knew you liked keeping your secrets but this two are way too big to hide” Se kneeled down to pinch Luna’s cheek, who smiled bashfully at her aunt.

Amber, your youngest, ran towards you and pulled your hand. You kneeled to her height as she whispered in your ear. “Mommy, I want to meet uncle Spaceboy.” You smiled softly at her sweetness, carrying her towards him. She instantly jumped in his arms, which took both Luther and you by surprise, she wasn’t the most sociable girl after all, but you kinda understood, his big frame and natural akwardness made him look quite huggable.

“Damn bro, you’ve gotten big.” Diego joined you, leaving Allison to play with Luna, who was now excited to know that she had a cousin her age, and you left before the two started bickering, but much to your surprise, the presence of your daughter seemed to retain them from fighting like they used to. Maybe bringing them was a good idea after all.

“Well, this is is quite the frame” Pogo entered the room with Vanya right behind him. You all waved at them, tired already of all the hugs already.

“Hi everyone.” Vanya entered uncomfortably, allowing Allison to hug her and having a small talk.

You turned to Diego and looked at him, a warning in your eyes. You knew your husband all to well, and you could see how much the book had hurted him, but you weren’t going to let him start a fight in the middle of a family meeting.

But of course, he wouldn’t listen to you.

“Why did you do it?” He started walking towards her as you mentally facepalmed. This wasn’t going to end well.

“Really, Diego? This isn’t the right time.” Allison scolded him, standing between him and her only sister.

“Then when is it, Allison? The next time we see each other? Should we wait another twelve years?” Allison just scoffed and stormed out of the room, Luther following after her, Vanya left silently, looking hurt, and Klaus snuck out in the heat of the moment, probably looking for money.

You sat on the biggest couch in the middle of your daughters, surrounding them with your arms. “That went well.” You stared at Diego, who pocked his tongue at you.

And it was about to get worse.

After having a tiny dance party, thanks to Luther’s incredibly loud turntable, you heard a thunderlike sound and watched as a bright blue light appeared outside. You looked at Diego, knowing what to do from all the years of practice that you had together. Each of you grabbed one of the kids, running outside to meet the others, who surrounded you in a protective manner, protecting their newly met nieces.

There was a portal in front of you, which Klaus tried to close with a fire extinguisher, but you could tell it wouldn’t work, because that wasn’t made of fire, or any other element that you were familiar with, for that matter, and you were an element bending chemist, for christ’s sake.

“What the hell is that babe?” Diego yelled, trying to understand.

“I have no idea, but there’s something coming out of it!” You yelled back, and everyone turned to look at what appeared to be an old man coming out of the portal. And in a flash of blue, a small boy landed at your feet, he looked incredibly similar to the portrait of the lost sibling that hung on top of the fireplace.

“Does anyone else see little number five?” They all nodded at Klaus, who clearly wasn’t sober enough for this, or maybe the poor thing thought that was the ghost of him, and you knew he already had enough with one dead brother following him around.

“What on earth is wrong with this family?” You said, looking at the odd teenager.

                                                             --

Minutes passed as you all stared at Five, who was preparing a goddamned sandwich, in the middle of one of the most confusing moments of your life.

“You’re new.” He simply stated, looking at you.

“Umm yeah, we haven’t had the chance to meet before, I’m Y/N.” You extended your hand, which he didn’t take, the tiny bastard.

“Oh we’ve met. You were the one with the girls, holding his hand.” He pointed at Diego, sandwich in hand.

“I don’t understand, you weren-”

“Look kid, I’m sorry, but I can’t trust you, you need to leave.” Diego was ready to jump at him, but Luther stopped him and you grabbed his arm softly.

“It’s ok honey, I get it.” You whispered and left to look for Grace who was taking care of the girls.

You let out a sigh as you walked by your old room. You had been wanting to scream ever since you got there, but this was your first alone moment in the whole day, and a sigh was just as effective as a scream, it helped.

                                                            --

Then came the funeral, and it was hard. Luther scattered the ashes and you manipulated the wind so they wouldn’t look like a pile of grey shit, which actually, was an accurate depiction of Reginald, but you did it for him and Pogo, it was the right thing to do.

And after a few out of place comments, Diego and Luther started fighting right in front of your daughters, so much for the agreement. Luna and Amber started crying, hiding behind Five, who, much to your surprise, covered them with his body as he slowly took them inside. It was infuriating to see the men fighting in front of you, but you couldn’t help but smile looking at Five.

It was that moment that truly made you feel home, like you really were in family, and it warmed your heart.

-End of maybe part one?-

[disregardcanon]

rwby julie and the phantoms au featuring dead girl band rwby and jaune as the conduit. but like, jaune who just half-way cheated his way into music school

the year is 1995 and the girl band RWBY is a rising power in the indie music world. composed of four talented, each with a rich and interesting backstory for the public to latch onto, they’re well on their way to becoming LGBT icons- if not actual stars. weiss, blake, and yang are twenty and ruby is eighteen.

weiss schnee is the daughter of silicone valley tycoon jacques schnee, who made headlines when she cut off all her hair and ran away from home to join a queer girl band. she’s the second schnee daughter to leave home, winter having joined the military back in 1992. she’s the band’s lead vocalist, though she occasionally plays violin in tracks that they write it into.

blake belladonna is already a famous singer. she sprung onto the scene in 1992 in a duo known as “bellataurus”. acting as the full sonny and cher package, adam taurus served as both older boyfriend and older manager until blake broke from him and helped to form RWBY in 1994. she took her vocals, her piano skills, GUITAR skills, and her songwriting skills with her.

yang xiao long and ruby rose are legacies of the highest order. summer, raven, qrow, and tai formed a band when they were kids and they became some of the biggest rockstars of the seventies and eighties- and later some of the biggest scandals. raven and tai’s messy, public breakup after the birth of their daughter signaled the band’s death- but then the birth of tai and SUMMER’S child signaled an even bigger scandal. the tabloids had an absolute field day over the new baby.

yang learned lots of instruments, but mainly took up the drums from her dad. the same went for ruby, but she mainly stole qrow’s guitar and made him teach her to shred.

unfortunately, the media never stopped following the two kids around, even through ruby’s transition. in a mixed bag for the remnants of STRQ and their children, the media circus that followed ruby rose coming out as a girl in NINETEEN NINETY TWO. the remaining members of STRQ still had a lot of clout and fully put their support behind her, but transmisognyny’s a bitch and it still followed them everywhere. yang coming out publicly as a lesbian neither helped nor hindered the situation, but it did make ruby feel a bit less alone.

the girls formed their band about a year before their- uh, UNTIMELY deaths in 1995. this came 3 days after a confrontation between blake and adam, where she promised that she would never, EVER date him again. she wouldn’t even work with him again. she and her band were going to become stars and actually help make social changes, instead of them just bullying her into going along with whatever THEY want from her and keeping her mouth shut because politics kills careers. 

they’re playing the ORPHEUM! the theater where so many bands have gotten their big break! she doesn’t need him now and she didn’t need him then.

eating bad street hot dogs after the warm up for a performance that blake promised adam 3 days ago would be the best that she ever gave- well. that’s just a weird coincidence, right?

cue 2020.

jaune arc has recently gotten into his first semester at a prestigious music college in the LA area, close to his family’s home where he still lives. the garage/studio out back remains largely untouched. half of that’s because cleaning the place out would be a lot of work, but half of it’s because his parents feel bad about the idea of cleaning out all of STRQ’s old recording equipment that both summer and tai promised they “didn’t want anymore” while selling the house in the wake of their daughters’ deaths. 

it’s not like the area is really suitable as a garage, and the arcs can spare a little room just in case those people ever change their minds.. even though they haven’t in twenty five years.

jaune’s house isn’t completely empty because he still has one of his older sisters going to college in LA at the same time, but it’s preeetttyy empty. his parents are hands off at this point and don’t even wonder how their baby who never even took any music lessons has gotten into a school like this.

it’s not like he doesn’t sing and sing pretty well, but they’re not even certain he can read music. spoiler alert: he can’t.

jaune is actually VERY good at working by ear and performing, but his music education growing up was lacking. on all levels. his parents encouraged him to do sports as his primary activity and he had no time for anything else and his public school music ed did not get him what he needed to go to music school.

frankly, he doesn’t even know what a treble clef is called. so. he’s a bit behind when going into his college classes. he was only able to fake the paperwork to get into music theory II, but considering that he’s. uh, completely unaware of what those notes mean he’s a bit fucked.

he’s always just been able to pull the song out of his ass because he listened to enough music to learn stuff by ear, but now he’s supposed to work through all this stuff with notation and he MIGHT BE DYING

he’s assigned to a group project with ren and nora and pyrrha and, well, thank god pyrrha notices and is kind enough to try to fill in the cracks.

but there’s a lot of cracks, you know? he’s barely pulling the grades that he needs to not get kicked out of the program at the moment, and he’s not entirely sure how to go about getting an accompanist for his end of semester showcase and ren and nora are already working together (they both play guitar and sing together) and pyrrha’s a soloist and -

oh god, he’s going to get kicked out of this program, isn’t he?

pyrrha keeps talking him down out of the anxiety because she is very kind and has a very big crush because jaune still has noticed that she’s a pop star that wanted to (but is failing to) have a normal college experience.

she lets him borrow her copy of RWBY’s first and only album and lets him take it home to listen to it. he decides to listen to it in the studio because he knows that’s where music, at one point, happened.

and it of course summons the souls of all four girls. they have ghostly mischief as they try to figure out how to make things work, and realize that while people who aren’t jaune can’t see them- people can HEAR THEM. and then when they play along with jaune for his end of semester show case- they realize that people can SEE THEM when they play with him.

pyrrha is confused about why jaune’s hologram band looks so much like RWBY, and she’s a little jealous and hurt that he’s been keeping this from her while letting HER bear the brunt of helping him with his struggles. jaune doesn’t know how to say that yeah, those are the actual ghosts of RWBY.

petty drama, petty drama, the girls are feeling suffocated by the fact that they’re actually dead and can’t interact with anyone who’s alive. ruby decides to go clear her head and meets another, very sweet and enthusiastic ghost named penny who likes to skateboard. 

penny is very sweet and ruby has what is known in show biz as a CRUSH. ruby learns a bit about how this ghost stuff works from her (some powers, about the unfinished business being what’s tying them to the land of the living, that she is VERY GAY) and she comes back to her friends to say hello yes i know things now and am also gay. wasn’t positive about that before but it’s a fact now

here’s where i lose my thread and am too tired to find it again but other things

1. ironwood is the villain of this. if you’re familiar with jatp, he serves the same function as caleb covington if not the exact same motives. he seals souls to him by a contract but with the express purpose of building a safe afterlife for ghosts... by making sure that all of them are under his control. winter, who died in one of the united state’s middle eastern campaigns is his right hand ghost. 

weiss is majorly conflicted by this because. it’s winter, you know? it’s winter. and it seems like this guy is trying to make things better for ghosts, right? he’s got a homebase and he can make them visible sometimes and make it so they can eat food and lots of stuff. but it comes with a heavy level of control. 

he doesn’t go after the girls until later because he thinks that they’ll come back, but when he DOES... the fact that he owns penny’s soul and doesn’t see her or any of the souls under his control as full people comes up in an ugly way.

2. adam taurus is the trevor wilson of this, but waaaayyy worse. he did in fact kill the girls and pillaged what he could of blake’s songs to record and put out under his own name. he‘s a big star, but a fading one, and he has a few vengeful ghost coming for him.

3. winter is a ghost, but whitley is a ghost of himself. at this point he’s forty and still doesn’t even know what he wants because he’s molded himself into what his dad wants so thoroughly. getting him to realize that he wants more and wants things for himself definitely comes up. winter also helps take down ironwood and free the souls. eventually

4. jaune IS a necromancer. he’s going to be able to see penny and others and eventually can give ghosts the power they need to be seen whenever they want. RWBYJNPR eventually becomes a big band that plays together sometimes

5. raven only came back for a few days for yang and ruby’s funeral before disappearing. qrow fell from grace quite dramatically when he accused adam taurus of murder with no evidence and became the laughing stock of america. he kept trying to find something that would fill the holes in his life, but he hasn’t lucked out with that yet... except the alcoholism, maybe.

tai and summer are still together, but they’re pretty miserable and they moved far away from LA to get out of the spotlight.

RWBY gets summer, tai, and qrow back together on purpose... and raven shows up when she sees her dead daughter singing on national television. the STRQ reunion is awkward and stilted, but things get better from there.

strq instruments

summer: vocalist with some piano

raven and qrow: bass and standard guitar respectively with some vocals

tai: drummer with some vocals

6. pyrrha and jaune eventually actually become the great duo that adam tried to market himself and blake as. sorry not sorry

7. not sure how they do it but they DO prove that adam murdered them and all of them including qrow get Vindication TM

8. the bumbleby isn’t a big plot point but they were dancing around getting together when they died and it happens slowly once they’re back <3

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 3

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 if you’d prefer!

Feel free to follow this story’s IG account (without spaces): ‘whenihaveyou . romione’

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Chapter 3

An argument broke out the next morning before breakfast, and it was over Ron and Hermione. Molly, who had woken up at four, had decided to distract herself from her thoughts by doing everyone’s washing. She had washed, dried with her wand, folded, and was sneaking into everyone’s rooms while they slept to hand-deliver them a neat pile of clothes. 

An innocent enough task, one she had apparently thought wouldn’t cause any distress. But upon entering Ron’s room, she’d gotten more than she bargained for.

Thankfully, much to Ron’s relief, he and Hermione had actually been sleeping at that time, and everyone was fully clothed (a different story to a few hours earlier), but the sight of her youngest son sharing his bed with another person had been too much for Molly. Her gasp had startled them both awake, which was then followed by Ron swearing at his mother and telling her to get out. The row had woken the rest of the house, which was now taking place in the kitchen, involving the rest of the family as well. 

What should have been the perfect morning for Ron, waking up feeling good about him and Hermione, was now one of misery for everyone. 

“Under my roof!” she bellowed at Ron, who shrunk into his chair despite the intense frustration surging through him at the same time. “Honestly, I thought better of you. Sneaking around, not even bothering to tell me… again… more lies...”

“Mum,” Percy said calmly, sitting a little straighter in his chair and pushing his glasses up his nose. “Mum, Ron is a legal adult and so is Hermione. They are at perfect liberty to —”

“Under my roof!” Molly said, ignoring Percy. “The pair of you… sneaking around...”

“They were just sleeping,” Ginny said, and both Ron and Hermione flushed a horrible red. 

Molly turned to Ginny, her eyes furious. “I suppose you knew about this! Encouraged it, even. Oh, and poor Harry. Where on Earth did he — ” If possible, her eyes narrowed even more. Steam was almost coming out of her ears. “You,” she cried, and Ginny shrunk away as well, turning back to the bench she’d been making her breakfast at. 

“Molly, dear, I think you’re overreacting,” Arthur said. “As Percy pointed out, Ron and Hermione are both of an age where they’re capable of making these decisions for themselves. If they wish for their sleeping arrangements to be… different, then I think —”

“Under my roof!” Molly said for a third time. “Neither you or Percy look surprised by this, Arthur. I suppose you knew of this arrangement our children had made?”

“Well,” Arthur spluttered, “I didn’t know, per se, but I —”

“No one bothered to tell me! How do you think it feels to be the only one to not know when her own son is… when her daughter…”

“Mum,” Ron said, his voice weak, “I said yesterday… you saw… we just thought… it would be too much for the moment.”

“Well, I know now!” Molly cried. “Is that how you wished for it to come out, Ronald?”

“Well, obviously not…”

Molly looked between everyone, having their full, terrified attention. “I am deeply hurt by this,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “From all of you. Even those of you who thought you’d keep it from me, thinking I wouldn’t be happy for my own children, even in this time, to see that they were… happy.” And she stormed from the room, leaving everyone behind her, speechless. 

“Oh, I just feel awful,” Hermione sighed, her shoulders slumping in the chair. 

“Yeah,” Ron mumbled, rubbing her back comfortingly. “In our defence, though, she told me off just yesterday about it being too soon, so I don’t think she would have been happy for us.”

“Ron —”

“No, he’s right, Hermione,” Ginny said. “But… maybe we should have… been a bit more direct about it.”

"We all thought it was for the best," Arthur said, his eyes following where Molly had gone. “I do think it was just the unexpected shock of… finding the two of you…”

Bill appeared in the kitchen suddenly, his clothes covered in soot and Floo powder. "Everything alright? I just saw Mum in —" He stopped, looking at everyone's ashen faces. "What happened?"

"Mum found Hermione in Ron's bed and lost it," Ginny said. 

Bill turned to Ron, eyes wide, and Ron felt himself go red, imagining what his brother was thinking. "We were only sleeping," he mumbled, turning away.

"Yeah, she carried on about being hurt no one told her, saying she would have been happy — though we all know she wouldn't have been — and stormed out," Ginny explained. "Was pretty bad, but at the same time, she has no right to be carrying on as she has about it. We're all adults here."

No one bothered to point out that Ginny wasn't quite an adult just yet. 

"I'll… go and see her then," Bill said. Ron heard him suppress a sigh. 

Everyone moved to busying themselves with breakfast after that, but the room was very quiet. Ron had never felt such guilt before, mixed with a burning anger. He got it, and it was why he'd tried to keep things from his mum for so long. Everyone got it. It seemed no one had anticipated the fall out of when she would find out. And Ron certainly hadn't anticipated her to walk into his room at five in the morning to drop off clothes. Usually, she used magic for that kind of thing. 

Still, he refused to feel guilty for having Hermione there. She was the best thing to happen to him since the end of the war, and he wasn't going to let his mother dictate that small bit of happiness for him. 

Last night had gone better than he'd hoped. The small moment he'd spent with Harry, having his mind off it, believing that it wasn't going to happen that night, had reduced his nerves. And then when he'd seen her and felt that overwhelming love for her, he hadn’t cared  about anything else. 

It had made the moment a whole lot easier, a whole lot more enjoyable, and he'd discovered with much satisfaction that he liked it. 

They may have fumbled their way through it, but that was over with now, and there'd been next to no awkwardness. It had felt right, like she'd always been more special than a friend to him; like he'd always known this was where they'd end up one day. 

Like he'd always loved her. 

He'd never kissed someone so much or loved someone so much in his life. Even now, hours later, he could still feel her lips against his, the way she had felt in his arms, the way she had looked… the way she had whispered his name...

And she had seemed rather happy afterwards as well, so it mustn't have been horrible for her either, which was good to kno. He’d been worried about her expectations and not fulfilling them. 

"You alright?"

"Hm?" Ron looked at her, realising she must have said something and he hadn't heard. 

She looked concerned. "I said, are you alright? You seemed to go somewhere else for a moment."

He smiled, nodding. "I'm alright. I was just thinking about… you.” 

She returned his smile, flushing, but said nothing else on the matter.  

The rest of breakfast went by in a blur. Molly and Bill had not returned, and everyone else ate in silence. Once finished, they hurried away to get themselves ready. They'd taken yesterday off, but today would be another day at the school. 

"I was thinking," Hermione said, coming to sit beside Ron on his bed just as he was putting his shoes on, "that I don't think it's a good idea to rub it in with your mum at the moment. I think we should —"

Ron kissed her, silencing her. He brought his hands to her face, deepening the kiss. She didn't fight him, didn't push him away, but when he looked at her, she seemed to be fighting an internal battle with herself as to whether she should throw herself at him or ask him to stop.

"She can't tell us what to do. I'll… apologise for keeping it from her, but I'm not going to stop being with you because she doesn't like it. I love you too much for that." He kissed her again. "I've wanted this for too long." Another kiss, and he felt her smile against him. "And you're the one bit of happiness in this dark time."

"I just feel so awful," she said. "She was so upset, and can we blame her? I mean, Fred's funeral is in two days…"

Ron let his hands fall into his lap, guilt creeping up on him. "Yeah, I know. I'll talk to her at some point today."

"Do you think maybe I should say something?" Hermione asked.

"Probably not," Ron said. "It's probably best if it's just me."

She nodded. "Are you ready to go?"

"As ready as I ever am to set foot in that castle again." Which was not much. 

She offered a hand, smiling. "In this together, remember?"

He accepted it, squeezing her fingers tightly. "In this together," he repeated.

…

Going back each day to the place where so many people had died was not what anyone wanted to be doing. The memories were so raw in everyone's minds that it couldn't be helped to stop and lose oneself at a place where they had witnessed death. 

Many tears had been shed over the week, yet people kept showing up, day in and day out, almost as if it were their duty to help with the restoration of Hogwarts. 

Students, former and present, staff and Ministry members, attended every day, working tirelessly to move or repair crumbled walls, fix leaking plumbing, or trying to retain the magic that had once filled every nook and cranny. But magic could only do so much, and there was much physical exertion used on top of spells. 

Ron found himself in the Gryffindor common room today, one place that had remained fairly intact throughout the Battle. Stepping into his old dormitory hit him with a wave of emotions he hadn't expected to feel. It had been more than a year since he'd last slept in his bed. Much had changed since then; he'd grown up so much in such a short time. It didn't even feel right being there; like he no longer belonged at Hogwarts at all. The reality of war had taught him more than what any schooling could do.

"Feels weird, doesn't it?" 

Ron spun around."Hi, Neville," he said. 

Neville had been one of the hardest working among them, showing up every day and giving his all to this place. Ron admired his dedication. 

"Almost like this was another time." He came to stand beside Ron, who'd been staring at his four poster bed. "I guess they're someone else's beds now, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess they are," Ron said. He watched the bed for a few more moments before Neville spoke again. 

"We're all about to head to the Great Hall for a break. Are you coming?"

Ron nodded, and without another word, he followed Neville down the staircase and into the common room. 

The portrait hole swung open before they had the chance to leave.

"Mum!" Ron said. "Wh—what are you doing here?" Molly had not been  to the castle once, the place where she had lost a son. No one had asked her to.

"Come to see you, Ronald. If you'd please." Her tone was neutral. 

Ron really didn't wish to have another argument, not in front of Neville, but he couldn't say no to her either. "I'll see you soon, Neville," he said instead. 

Neville nodded and disappeared from the common room, leaving Ron alone with his mother. It was the first time it had just been the two of them in almost two weeks. He shuffled his feet.

"Why don't we sit?" Molly suggested, indicating the armchairs by the fireplace. It had been their favourite spot over the years — Ron, Harry's and Hermione's. 

Ron shuffled over to them and sat down. He stared into the unlit fireplace, wondering just what she was going to say to him. Her stony expression didn't bode well. 

She sat beside him, her eyes boring into him, as if waiting for him to say something. He kept his gaze on the fireplace. Eventually, the silence must have become too much, because she spoke, and her voice was filled with anguish. "Horcruxes?"

Ron winced. He'd had a feeling, a part of him had always known, that Hermione had had nothing to do with his mum’s anger. It had been this; them leaving so abruptly after Bill’s wedding and not telling her where they were going. For going off the map for months, leaving her to worry. All to search for seven Horcruxes, the darkest of Dark magic. 

"All those months!" Molly went on. "All those times I forced myself to check that damned clock to make sure your name hadn't ticked over to 'dead'. Not even a message, a note, anything… Horcruxes, Ron? All three of you? Really?"

Ron sunk low into the armchair, wanting very much to disappear. His mother had a way of making anyone feel small, despite her own small stature. He had no desire to relive those horrendous months spent in a tent, the memories of Voldemort's soul speaking to him, preying on his deepest fears, and how worthless it had made him feel to the point where he couldn't take it anymore. It had been a truly awful time in his life.

“Harry was instructed by Dumbledore to not say anything,” he said weakly after a moment. 

“And yet he told you,” Molly said. 

“That was another instruction from Dumbledore.” Ron sucked in a breath and braved a look in his mother’s direction. Her expression had softened slightly, though he still wouldn’t want to have crossed her. 

“It wasn’t some big camping adventure, Mum. No doubt Bill has told you that I wasn’t exactly the best person during that time. We found them all, we destroyed them, but not before they almost destroyed us. Me. We had to do it. You know that, right? If we hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here, free of him.”

“Fred would still be alive,” Molly said, her voice barely audible. 

Ron looked away, unable to bear the look in his mother’s eyes. “Maybe. Or maybe we’d all be dead. Maybe he would have won the fight.”

“You were barely of age,” Molly whispered. “Ginny isn’t of age.”

Ron swallowed. He was so uncomfortable. His mother was on the brink of bursting into tears, and he’d have no idea what to do if she did. Usually, someone else was around to comfort her if that happened. His dad. Bill. Someone who was much better at dealing with these sorts of things. 

“It… just shows, I guess…” he said. “The way you’ve raised us all. What you’ve taught us. Never to back down from a fight.”

It had been the wrong thing to say. She burst into a wail of tears, burying her face in her hands. “Oh, Ron,” she sobbed. “Oh, Ron. How could you?”

Ron watched her, completely lost for words. He shifted, contemplating whether to hug her or not. He settled for patting her shoulder. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

Molly started crying harder. “Sorry? Sorry for what?”

“For… leaving like I did. For not being able to tell you. For… Fred.”

“Sorry for being brave?” Molly wailed. “For doing what is right? Don’t be sorry for that!” And she threw herself into Ron’s arms, hugging him so tight that she almost suffocated him. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Er… thanks.” Ron patted her back. 

“My children,” Molly sobbed. “All true Gryffindors, if I’ve ever seen one. Brave, loyal, and stupidly careless about their own mortality. The Sorting Hat never gets it wrong.”

And there the two of them sat, Molly sobbing into Ron’s shoulder, mumbling words about being proud, about how stupid they all were, but emphasising how she was still 'so proud' of him. Ron could only sit there, allowing her to cry, as uncomfortable as it made him. 

After what felt like forever, Molly finally pulled back, wiping her red eyes. Ron looked away again; he was really bothered by seeing her cry so much. 

“Just no more secrets, Ron,” she said after a while. “I don’t care if you thought you were sparing my feelings; no more secrets. If something — or someone — makes you happy during this time, then I want to know about it.”

Ron nodded, but said nothing. 

Molly started sobbing again. Ron stared at her, wide-eyed. What was it now? 

“You and Hermione,” she sniffed. “How lovely. Such a nice, young woman… so lovely...”

At the same moment, the portrait hole swung open again and Hermione climbed through. Spotting Ron and Molly by the fireplace, her calm expression changed to one of alarm, and it looked as if she’d much rather be out there hunting for Horcruxes again. 

“It’s alright,” Ron said, standing up and going over to her. “Mum’s got it all off her chest now. Everything’s fine.”

Hermione eyed Molly nervously. “Mrs Weasley, I just want to say I’m really —”

“Oh, it’s Molly, dear!” She jumped to her feet and took Hermione into a crushing hug. 

“Alright,” Ron said after a moment. “I think maybe we should, er, go and get something to eat. I don’t think I could lift another boulder — magic or otherwise — without food.”

Molly let go of a startled Hermione, smiling between them. 

Sensing she might start crying again, Ron urged Hermione through the portrait hole and into the corridor, whispering, “She’s a bit sensitive at the moment. Was very uncomfortable.”

But at least one good thing had come from that discussion. As they walked through the corridor, his mum trailing a little behind them, he slipped his hand into Hermione’s. He no longer had to keep his feelings hidden. If he wanted to hold Hermione’s hand, sure as hell no one was going to stop him. 

[nialledfromfics]

The Dating Game | Chapter Fourteen

~~

*a/n - few brief mentions of death/funeral

They sat on his couch. Quiet. Still. An eerie, numbing silence filling the room, almost stinging through one's ears like that of a blizzard in the dead of night. Her face was cupped in her hands, the tears slipping down her cheeks and Niall gently rubbed his hand up and down the slope of her back. He could feel the tiny gasps of her breaths against his palm as she softly cried; her body having almost met its limit but he stayed next to her, being there for her in the only way he knew how. 

They remained like that for a while before Joey eased her head up and wiped away the wetness from her cheeks. Looking over at Niall, his stare drifted over her face–puffy, red eyes and flushed tear-stained cheeks–and slipped his touch from her back to her lap, encouraging her hand into his. Joey swallowed hard, peeking down at their entwined fingers and a calmness quickly overcame her. She squeezed her hand around his and brought them up to her lips, her eyelids fluttering closed as she pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. Her chin wobbled as she looked over at Niall. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, reaching over to her with his other hand to brush some stuck hair off of her damp cheek. He tucked it behind her ear and she pushed out a tiny sigh. His touch felt so good to her. So safe. “Are ya okay?” 

Joey nodded her head. “I’ll be okay, once the shock wears off,” she sniffed. 

“When’s the funeral?” he asked her, tipping his head slightly as he kept his focus on her eyes. They were haunting; glassy and droopy, bloodshot from her tears. Full of sadness. He couldn’t fight the tremble of his chin as he looked at her. 

“Thursday.” 

Her watery gaze slipped away from his and Joey tipped her face back down into the cup of her hands. She choked up once more, the reality of what was going to happen, burying her grandmother in just a few days time, hitting her harder than she had expected. She had always had a close relationship with her grandmother, talked to her as regularly as she could and visited her any chance she got, but she never thought her passing, which they had all prepared for, would affect her like it was. It was almost too much for her to bear. 

Niall felt his heart completely break as he watched Joey fall apart again in front of his eyes, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness quickly invaded him. He didn’t know what to do or how to make her feel better, and without thinking, hooked his arm around her body and pulled her against him. Joey tucked her head under his chin, her face nestling against his chest as she sobbed. She wrapped an arm up around his neck and Niall kissed the top of her head, burying his nose into her hair as he held her even tighter. “Shhh...I know, love,” he breathed out, his fingers delicately combing through her hair. 

“I don’t...don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Joey muttered into the material of his shirt. “I have to get me...me and Carter over there, I gotta get us...to Florida...as soon as I can, I don’t know how…” 

“Don’t worry about that, Jo,” Niall told her as she carefully sat up and peered over at him. He gave her a turned down smile and she wiped under her eyes with her fingers. “I can fly ya out.”

Joey shook her head. “No...no, I can’t allow you to do that.” 

“Yes, you can,” he insisted with a raise of his brow. “I can get a private jet. I can have you down there by the mornin’. I can do that for you. Let me do that for you.” 

Joey flicked her stare down to her lap as she thought, her leg restlessly bouncing as she picked at her nails. “And I’m goin’ with you.” 

Her stare shot back over to his. “No! I can’t let you do that, you start your album promo in two days.”

“Jo, darlin’...I don’t care,” he said, leaning forward and resting his elbow in his knees as he stared at her. “That shit can be rescheduled. This is more important. You are more important to me. I want to be there for you, for your family. Please, just let me do this for you…”

A jumbled breath spilled past her lips at his declaration, her eyes locking firm with his. There was concern written across his face, love mixed with compassion and it made her heart heavy. She didn’t know what to say, or how she would even thank him, and she softly smiled at him before leaning over and pulling him into a hug. 

•

Niall stayed true to what he had told Joey. By that next morning, Joey and her brother, and his girlfriend, Ramona, were all boarding a private jet. Niall right alongside them. He hadn’t let her out of his sight since the night before; Alexis agreeing to watch Sadie so that Joey and her brother could fly out to her parents house as soon as possible. She gathered a few things, packed a bag and went right back over to Niall’s, staying curled up in his arms the entire night. It was the only thing that calmed her, he was the only thing that calmed her. Her exhausted body and anxious mind finally at ease as they laid together in the dark of his bedroom, quietly drifting off to sleep. 

And now there they were sitting across from each other on a private plane getting ready to take off and head towards Florida. 

“Holy crap,” Carter blurted out as he buckled himself in the plush leather seat, his eyes, and hands, taking in everything around him. He wiggled his bum. “This is the nicest thing my ass has ever sat in.”

Ramona kicked his foot with hers and Carter pulled his face in. “Don’t be weird,” the dark haired girl spat out, rolling her eyes. 

“I’m just saying, Mona, my ass has never felt this luxurious.”

Niall chuckled at the two of them as he looked across at Joey. She was already staring at him, a softness in her hazelnut eyes and a tiny smile sitting pretty on her lips. Niall smiled back at her and gave her a playful scrunch of his nose. 

“Thank you,” she mouthed to him, biting at her bottom lip. 

He faintly nodded his head in response just as the plane started to move. Pulling in a deep breath, Joey shifted her eyes to the small window next to her, silently watching the ground below move further and further away until it could no longer be seen. 

•

The plane landed in Tampa a few hours later, the air humid and thick; sticking to Joey’s skin like wet paper the second she stepped off the plane. Niall already had a vehicle waiting to pick them up to take them to her parents house, and the foursome climbed in as the driver loaded their bags before taking off on the twenty five minute drive. Joey was quiet in the car, Niall softly holding her hand in his as he sat next to her. He could feel the trembles in her fingers the closer they got to her parents house and he leaned in, placing a kiss right at her temple. 

Glancing over at him, Joey caught the stunning blue of his eyes and she smiled, only a slight hint of one but Niall saw it and smiled back at her. She was incredibly thankful that he was there with her, and as the car turned down the street and up to the stucco-sided house, she tightened her fingers around his, as if she was bracing herself.

“Feels like it's been forever since we’ve been here,” Carter mentioned as the car pulled into the driveway. Their parents were already outside, waiting together just at the end of the walkway and Joey sharply inhaled at the sight of them. She swallowed hard, attempting to hold back the wobbles of her chin as she waved at her parents, hoping the painted on smile would appease any emotions that were trying to creep in. Niall hopped out of the backseat and came around to the other side, opening the door and helping Joey out as Carter and Ramona followed. 

The driver had begun to unload their bags and Joey hurried straight over to her parents, Niall following close behind and watching as she fell into her Dad’s arms, the tears she had been attempting to hold back, spilling easily from her eyes. Shoving his hands down into his pockets, Niall stayed back a bit, shifting on his feet as he let Joey, Carter and Ramona each have their time saying hello. He didn’t feel like it was appropriate to introduce himself at that very moment, and he waited until Joey had lifted her face from the confines of her mother’s shoulder. 

She wiped the wetness from her cheek with the back of her hand as she spun around to look for him. Smiling when she saw him, Joey motioned him over with a flick of her fingers. “C’mere,” she said quietly. 

Niall bowed his head, his lips turning down at the corners as he stepped closer to her and her parents. “Mom, Dad...this is Niall,” Joey introduced him between sniffles, her hands threading around Niall’s arm as he peeked up and gave them a friendly grin. “My boyfriend.” 

“Oh...my, Jojo, he's so handsome!” Her mother exclaimed, bringing him into a hug by a soft pull of the shoulders. Niall chuckled and hugged her back. 

“It’s so nice to meet ya both,” he said, after giving her father a hug as well. “I wish it were under better circumstances, to be honest. I really am sorry for your loss.” 

Joey grabbed Niall’s hand, gripping tight as her father nodded. “That’s so kind. We really do appreciate all that you’ve done to get our kids to us so quickly. It means so much to us.” 

“Of course,” he said, peering down at Joey. Niall breathed out a soft smile. “I’d do anythin’ for this one.”

•

The following couple days felt like a whirlwind to Joey. There was so much to do and so much to plan, from making sure the house was clean to organizing the wake and planning the reception for after the funeral, she wasn’t sure there was enough hours in the day to get it all done. She was incredibly busy, running nonstop and doing all that she could to take some of the stress off her mother, but with extended family flying in and everyone, of course, stopping by to see them and offer their condolences, it just seemed almost impossible. 

Niall was doing his best to keep Joey as calm and grounded as he could, he could see how she was trying to keep her mind off of everything by not giving herself a second to even breathe, so he stepped in and helped with whatever was asked of him. Whatever work her mother or father put him to, he was ready and willing without a question. He was a hundred percent there for Joey and whatever her and her family needed at that time, that was what he was going to do. 

The night before the funeral, with the clock nearing midnight, Niall and Joey found themselves laying in bed in one of the guest bedrooms. It was beyond hot, long after the sun had gone down but still lingering that heavy stickiness in the air. They laid side by side, staring up at the whirring ceiling fan with a light duvet barely covering their bottom halves. It was quiet, not uncomfortable or weird, just that soft delicate kind of quiet that would ease over your mind as your eyelids grew heavy, one that no one cared to disturb. 

Niall could hear Joey inhaling sharp, shallow breaths, and he knew by the constant fiddle of her fingers on the seam of the blanket that laid across her hips, that her thoughts were spinning around just as fast as the overhead fan. Tucking his one arm up under his head, Niall glanced over at Joey before gently grabbing her hand in his, hoping to settle the anxious clatter of her fingers. Her breaths stalled for a split second as she felt his touch on her, and she slowly slid her light brown eyes over to his. 

She dragged her gaze along the soft lines of his face that she could make out in the darkness, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as she pushed out a shaky sigh. “None of this seems real,” she said to him, her voice low and meek. Joey squeezed her fingers around his at the outward acknowledgment of her own honesty. His touch did help her more than he probably realized. “That she’s...gone, ya know? I just talked to her, like, two weeks ago. She was doing well, too. It was her birthday and Mom had skyped Carter and I so we could see her.” 

Niall licked across his lips and pulled in a deep breath. “I know, I’m sorry, petal.” 

Rolling over onto her side to face him, Joey tucked their entwined hands up under her chin. She pressed a tiny kiss to his bent knuckles. “It’s just crazy how fast things can change,” she went on, catching Niall’s stare in the dark haze of the room. “One minute you’re here, feeling good, laughing and smiling and happy and the next…” She swallowed hard and buried her nose down against the skin of his hand. Her eyes fluttered upon breathing him in. He smelt of the hand soap that her parents kept in the guest bathroom. 

“Life is fucked up like that, Jo, it really is,” he said to her, yanking his arm out from under his head to reach over and gently tuck some of her red hair behind her ear. “Never know what’s gonna happen. It’s why you gotta live for today. Do what makes ya happy, and fuck everythin’ else.” 

Lifting her eyes up, Joey met his stare and noticed a slight gleam across the middle of his pupil from the moon shining in through the bedroom window. He was so pretty. So pretty it made her insides crumple up and her heart beat so fast, it was like it would thump right out of her chest. And he was right, you have to do what makes you happy. She smiled at him and brought her hand up to delicately cup around his jaw. Her thumb traced his lower lip, just barely and he moved his chin to press his lips to the pad of her finger. “Thank you,” she whispered, tenderly scratching her nails through his beard, “you’ve gone beyond…anything I could have asked for this week. Flying us all out here, paying for my families’ hotel rooms and for the reception, helping my dad with yard work,” she paused and giggled faintly at the last bit, “really, Niall...I appreciate it all so much. You don’t even know how much it means to me.”

He smirked. “I’m happy to help, my love.” 

“I should have told you thank you sooner, I don’t know what is wrong with me, I was just-...my mind-...” 

“Jo, it’s fine. I don’t need a thank you,” he told her, “I would do anythin’ for you, I hope ya know that.” 

Joey faintly nodded, biting at her bottom lip. “I don’t know how I’m ever gonna repay you.” 

Cradling his hand around the side of her neck, Niall leaned in and pushed a kiss to her lips. “You don’t have to repay me,” he muttered against her mouth. “That’s not why I’m here or why I’m doin’ any of this. I’m here for you, just you...and anythin’ I can do to make sure you’re okay.” 

Joey sniffled as his sincere words floated past her ears and she eased him into another kiss. “Thank you.” 

Nestling herself into him, Niall wrapped his arms around her body and held her, his chin resting on the top of her head as Joey’s eyes fell closed, finally drifting off into a deep sleep.

•

Joey woke up the next morning with a heaviness in her heart. She dreaded having to get out of bed; having to move from Niall’s embrace and having to actually face the day. Snuggling a bit more into his chest, Joey grumbled a bit as she felt his hand come up and sweep her hair away from her temple. Her arm tightened around his middle, almost as if she was locking him in place and refusing to allow either of them to move, and Niall chuckled slightly before lifting his head up just enough to place a kiss to Joey’s forehead. 

“We’re gonna have to get up soon, babe,” he mumbled to her, softly tracing his fingertips over her cheek. 

“I know.” 

“You okay?” 

Joey pulled in a deep breath and slowly peeled open her eyes. Her fingers lightly danced over the skin at his side. “No.” 

Niall squeezed his arm around her upper body and nestled her in closer. His lips rested at the top of her head. “I’m here for you, Jo,” he assured her, his breath warm against her scalp. “I’m not goin’ nowhere.” 

Sighing, Joey closed her eyes again, determined to get a few more minutes of peacefulness. “I know.”

The funeral was beautiful. It was bright, uplifting and full of joyous memories and quiet tears. It was everything Joey’s grandmother would have wanted. Niall was as comforting and supportive as Joey had hoped, holding her hand as they sat in the front row pew with the rest of her family. He let her cry on his shoulder when she needed, or just listened to her vent about her invasive aunt if that was what she needed too. He was there for her in any way he could be, any way she might need him to be and he made sure she knew that. 

Niall wished he could say that there was one singular moment that made him fall in love with Joey, but he couldn’t. There were a bunch of tiny moments, ones that stick with someone for the rest of their life whenever they think of that person, and for Niall is was the way she slipped her hair over her one shoulder as she spoke, or the inviting sound of her giggle, the way her eyes lit up every time she looked at him, or how she would softly cup around his jaw when she kissed him. It was tiny things, little things that made Niall’s heart rattle in his chest and his tummy flip in on itself with every thought of her. And as he watched her slowly pace around her parents house during the reception, a simple black dress adorning her body and a semi-forced smile on her lips as she went from person to person to show her gratitude for being there, it was no different. 

That had to be one of the hardest moment’s of Joey’s life so far, at least while they were together, and he was there to experience it all with her. It was the first time that he had wanted to be there in that way for someone else, where nothing else mattered but their happiness and their feelings and Niall didn’t want to say that up until that point he had been selfish and oblivious in his relationships, but maybe...maybe he had been. Being with Joey changed him, in a good way, in a better way. In a way that he never would have expected.

Sipping on his alcoholic drink, Niall stayed quiet as he stood off to the side of the room and watched her. He didn’t want to impose, she had already made introductions to most of her family earlier in the week, but just wanted to make sure he was near if she needed him. His blue eyes floundered over her as she stood about twenty feet away from him, a glass of gin in her one hand and the other motioning as she spoke to an older couple that Niall hadn’t met yet. He licked across his lips, tucking a hand down into the pocket of his black trousers as Joey reached behind her neck and swept her red hair over her shoulder. Niall breathed out a half smile. 

She was stunning, and Niall couldn’t fathom how this woman could become more beautiful to him as every day passed. It was like she had stolen every ounce of his heart and made it her own. He loved how strong she was, even in her vulnerability, she was willing to push it aside to be there for her parents, her whole family. He loved how passionate and determined she was. He loved how caring and generous she was, how much she was willing to put her heart out there. He loved everything about her. He loved her. 

He loved her. 

Joey could feel his stare on her. It was a warmth that immediately filled her, punched across her skin like a bee sting jolting her body awake and from the confines of the racket going on in her head. She loved that he could make her feel that way. Biting at her bottom lip, there was a moment where the words from the couple she was speaking to had started to drown out, clouding around her ears like she was in a cotton stuffed box and that was when she felt the heat prickle her flesh. She knew he was near, he had been near all day, either right next to her, or just off to the side, quiet and demure, just there to support her if she needed. Joey had never had anyone be like that with her before, never had that unconditional support and constant reassurance that they were there for her, just for her with no other intentions or obligations behind it. It almost felt surreal. Like a dream. 

She hadn’t even expected him to be there for the funeral, not that she didn’t want him to be, but he was a busy man, and she would have never expected him to postpone his album promo, put his career on hold just to be at her side. But he did, he did and he did that for her. He was there for her and the thought made her heart thump like the stampede of horses and her breath stick heavy in the back of her throat. 

Slowly sliding her stare over to where he was standing across the room, the jitters pulsing through her veins ceased the second her light brown eyes met his. He looked so handsome. Dressed in a pressed black suit with his hair soft and swept to the side. He had a sweet smile tugging at the one corner of his mouth, that tiny little dimple just barely pressing into his left cheek and Joey’s knees nearly buckled. She swallowed hard, dipping her head down in a mused grin. Her eyes watched the ice cubes in her cup bubble through the bitter liquid that surrounded them and she sucked in a shaky breath. Time and time again, he made her feel so many things, so many things that she had never felt before in her life. Things that she had spent years wishing she would be able feel one day and there she was, feeling them. Feeling them strong and loud, powerful and all consuming. In her heart, in her body, in her soul. She was feeling it all, and she was feeling it for him. 

Just him. 

She was so madly and intoxicatingly in love with him, she almost couldn’t comprehend it. 

Looking back over at him, Niall tipped his head to the side a bit, his one brow raising slightly. He could tell she was getting a bit anxious, overwhelmed as the people in front of her continued to babble on and Joey ran her tongue over her bottom lip, her eyes dropping to the floor and Niall knew she needed him. Taking a gulp of his beverage before setting it down on the table beside him, he started to walk towards her and her gaze followed his movements until he was standing right next to her. “Hello, I’m Niall,” he interjected himself to the couple, taking the attention off of Joey. “I’m Joey’s boyfriend.” 

The two elderly people, now free of words, looked him up and down before greeting him with a smile. “How do you do, young man,” the older woman said, shaking Niall’s extended hand.

He smiled and peeked over at Joey, who was already staring at him and siding her one hand into his that hung between them. Niall squeezed his fingers around hers as he focused his words back at the older couple, engaging them in frivolous conversation. 

But Joey’s stare never left him. They stayed glued to the side of his face, watching and listening, in awe of the man that was by her side that she was lucky enough to call hers. He was incredible and sincere in everything he did, how he treated her and that thought, just having him next to her, feeling the heat of his body, made a calmness invade her entirety. A smile overtook her balm covered lips and Joey leaned into him, resting her temple just at the round of his shoulder. 

She had never felt more safe, or more loved in her life as she did in that moment. And she never wanted to let him go. 

•

The next morning, after saying goodbye to her parents and making sure everything had been settled, the two young couples were once again at the tiny regional airport getting ready to make their way back to LA. Sitting on the tarmac, the jet was still being prepared for their flight as the four sat in the car, waiting patiently. Niall and Joey were occupying the middle row with Carter and Ramona in the very back and the driver in front with his walkie talkie, keeping notice of when their plane would be ready to board. 

Niall held Joey’s hand as he scrolled through his phone, the redhead staring out of her window and down the long runway of the airport before she whipped her head to look at him. “Niall?” 

“Hmm?” 

“How do you know when you’re done?” 

The question caught him a bit off guard, a knot cinching in his tummy as he stalled his thumb on his phone screen and slowly turned his face to catch her stare. “Done? With, um...what?” 

“This…” she paused and shrugged her shoulder, “ya know, this...crazy dating game we all play.”

Niall buckled his brows as he clicked off his phone and dropped it into his lap. Taking in a deep breath, he reached up to run his fingers through the front of his hair. “Um...I dunno, that’s a tough one, love,” he said as he licked across his lips, “I guess...maybe when ya find someone that makes ya want to stop playin’ the game.” 

Joey sighed through pursed lips, her eyes dropping to where her hand was cradled in his. She rubbed across his skin with the pad of her thumb. “I think…I wanna stop playing the game,” she told him, locking her gaze with his. 

“Really?” Niall muttered, swallowing hard. 

She shrugged. “I figure, once you’ve won...that’s it, right?” Joey went quiet and Niall just faintly nodded his head, the corners of his mouth turning down. She could see a slight blush filling his cheeks and she gave him a sweet smile. “Well...I think I’ve won.” 

Niall just stared at her, his own words, ones that had been fumbling around in his head for the past few weeks, now stunted on the tip of his tongue. His lips fell open, along with the confines of his heart and before he could muster up a single intelligent thought, the driver turned around to look back at the group. “The plane is ready to board, Mr. Horan.” 

Niall shot his eyes to the driver and quickly nodded his head. “Oh...um, okay, yeah...t-thank you.” Joey slipped her fingers from Niall’s to grab her purse from the floor before she slid over to open her door. She climbed out without another word and folded the seat up to let Carter and Ramona out from the back. Pulling in a deep breath, Niall brushed the nerves away that were gurgling in his belly with a shake of his head before slowly getting out of the car. 

Joey had already rounded the back of the vehicle and was making her way towards the lowered steps of the plane, Carter and Ramona bickering as they followed behind her and Niall just at the tail end, when he eased his feet to a stop. His heart was leaping, doing somersaults in his chest and he swore the air outside had risen to a sweltering 150 degrees. There was sweat pooling at the base of his neck, dripping down his hairline and he had only stepped out from the air-conditioned car not more than thirty seconds prior. But he was about to do something that he had been wanting to do since the second he saw her, since the first time he had heard her laugh. Since the first time they kissed. And it would all come down to that exact moment. 

“Jo!” 

The breeze had picked up, cooling Niall’s sticky skin slightly as Joey halted and twisted around at the sound of her name. “Yeah?” 

By that time, Carter and Ramona had also paused their steps on the concrete, all eyes now pressed curiously to Niall as he took a step forward, making sure his voice was loud enough to carry through the dense humidity of the Florida air. “I wanna stop.” 

Furrowing her brows, Joey tilted her head just a bit, confused by what he was trying to say to her before Niall realized how his words had come out. He shook his head. “No, I mean...the game,” he tried to explain, holding out his hands, “I wanna stop playin’ the game.” 

Joey stayed quiet, Carter and Ramona flicking their stares between the both of them. “Jo….” Niall went on, his eyes focused on hers as he took another few steps towards her. “There’s so much I wanna say, but...I’m so fuckin’ in love with you.” 

Her chest tightened at his words, clear as day seeping over her ears and filling her head with a dizziness that nearly consumed her. Her heart was racing, knocking at her ribcage and making it almost impossible to catch her breath. Choking out a nervous chuckle, Joey smiled as she dropped her bag to the ground and without wasting another second, rushed back to him, colliding her body into his as she grasped his face and kissed him. Kissed him hard, and with purpose. Her lips rolled over his, giggling against his tongue and Niall wrapped his arms around her middle, cradling the slope of her back and holding her tightly as he kissed her back with all his might. 

His one hand dragged up to cup her head, fingers curling into her red hair and she kissed him even deeper, harder before she inched back with a faint gasp. Her hands were locked around the back of his sticky neck, fingernails scratching up into his hair as she rested her forehead to his. Her eyes were pressed closed, and she was struggling to properly breathe but nothing could stop the smile that was spreading so naturally over her lips. 

“I’m completely in love with you, Niall,” she whimpered against his parted mouth, “I love you.” Her eyes eased open, met with his gorgeous stare and she pressed her lips to his again, Niall locking his grip around her waist as he picked her up in his arms. The couple could hear the faint ‘whoop, whoop’ cheers of Carter and Ramona behind them and they both chuckled as Joey slipped her lips away from his. 

Burying her face down into his broad shoulder, she tightly hugged her arms around his neck. “Let’s do it,” she whispered, against the side of his throat, her voice no longer riddled with apprehension. “I wanna be with you, I wanna move in with you. I want everything with you.”

She felt Niall tense up within her embrace at her sudden declaration and she slowly lifted her head from the crook of his shoulder to stare up at him. He had lowered her feet back to the ground at that point, a warm swirling breeze causing some of Joey’s hair to float across the front of her face and he smiled down at her as he reached up and gently brushed strands of her hair behind her ear. Joey swallowed hard as she darted her stare with his, wondering and hoping that he had heard what she had said and she watched as a wateriness began to fill the brims of his eyes. She sighed, so softly that it made a flutter roll around in his belly. 

Her glassy stare stayed on his, and they stood quiet for another solid minute before Niall nodded his head. “Yeah...yeah, baby,” he said to her, “we can do that.”

He took her hand, the couple smiling big at each other as Niall began to lead them towards the plane. “C’mon, let’s go home.” 

THE END 

[eberles]

Love, Rafe♡

Part 5 - 5 Years Later

Rafe Cameron x OC

A/N: AHHH once again there are a lot of time gaps, i tried to make it as easy to understand and follow along as possible! There’s only one more chapter left after this, thank you guys so so much for reading!! If you’ve seen the movie, please note that I left the funeral scene out.

Warnings: angst, swearing

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

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“I’m not jealous, Zoe, I feel sorry for you, and I can’t do this.” Rafe laughed out and walked away from Zoe leaving her on the side walk for the second time that night. 

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It’s been a few months since Zoe and Rafe’s fight in Boston and they haven’t had much contact with each other since that night. Rafe was beginning to get a little lonely these days with just him and Katie together all the time. He was ready to start settling down and he wanted Katie to have a chance at having a mother figure in her life. Little did he know it would be her actual mother, Olivia, to show up at his apartment door.

“Olivia, I uh, wh-what are you doing here?” Rafe asked, stuttering through his words while making awkward eye contact with Olivia. Truth be told, it was weird for him to see her. Rafe had always assumed she would never come back, it has been 5 years after all.

“It’s been 3 years, Rafe...I miss my family. I’m not the same naive girl I was when I left, can I come in?” Olivia said with a nervous tone.

“It’s been 5 years, Olivia, not 3. And no, I don’t think you can come in, not while Katie is home anyways.” Rafe said wanting to just close the door in her face and be done with it.

“I’m so sorry Rafe, but there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in the last 5 years that I haven’t thought about her! Does she look like me at all? Does she have my blonde hair? Does she talk like me?” Olivia asked with a genuine voice, wanting to know more about the baby she abandoned all those years ago. 

“Oh, please, that’s bullshit!” Rafe replied trying to keep his voice low so Katie wouldn’t come running to the door from her room.

“Please, Rafe, you have to give me another chance, i’m different, I promise.” Olivia looked at Rafe with the post pleading eyes he’d ever seen from her. And he stood there for a few minutes just staring at her, contemplating letting Olivia back into his life. Back into his daughters life.

“One chance, you get one chance, don’t screw it up. Seriously, you won’t get another one.” Rafe made himself perfectly clear and Olivia promised not to fuck anything up with him and Katie, and she kept that promise.

For their first meeting together Rafe decided to bring the girls to the beach so they can fly kites together. Rafe thought it was really sweet being able to see Katie bond with her mother even if it was just flying kites. Katie had one hell of a time and she really started to get accustomed to having Olivia around.

After that day, the 3 of them spent a lot of time together so Olivia and Katie could get to know each other better. Olivia and Rafe helped Katie with her homework, they went to the movies, they cooked together, they played tennis, and went to the beach. The 3 of them did everything together and it only took a few months for Rafe to start developing actual feelings for Olivia. She definitely was not the same girl who had left them all those years ago, he actually liked this version of her. And for the first time in 6 years, Rafe was ready to have a real relationship with someone. He wanted to belong to someone. 

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Two years later and it came as a huge surprise to Zoe when she received a letter in the mail from Rafe. Not just any letter though, it was a wedding invitation for Rafe and Olivia. Zoe didn’t attend the wedding though and Rafe ignored her calls because of it. And when Rafe and Olivia moved out of their small apartment after the wedding and moved into a house together, Zoe was moving out the perfect Boston apartment she lived in with Nate. 

It’s been about 2 months since Rafe got married and he wanted nothing else, but to call Zoe and see how she was doing, so he did.

“Hello?” Rafe called Zoe’s home phone and wasn’t expecting an unfamiliar female voice to answer. 

“Uh, hi? Is Zoe there?” Rafe asked confused, but he could hear on the other end of the line that the mystery girl told Nate that someone was calling for Zoe.

“Rafe? Is that you?” Nate asked when the girl handed him the phone.

“Yea, it’s me. Where is Zoe? Who just answered the phone?” Rafe was mad now and it was showing through his words.

“It was Melissa, now calm down, Zoe moved out, we broke up, it was actually the day of your wedding, when she left.” Nate spoke softly into the phone, Rafe quickly hung up since he didn’t care to ask any further questions.

From Rafe: Oh Zoe, if only i’d known...also, Melissa?

From Zoe: Melissa is the girl Nate was cheating on me with, turns out she’s pregnant.

From Rafe: Oh Zoe :(

From Zoe: It’s okay, he sucked anyways.

Rafe couldn’t sleep that night. All he could think about was Zoe. 

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Five years later and Katie is now 12. She acts how every pre-teen acts. Loud music, wearing makeup, annoying Rafe, it’s all the same. She even had a boy best friend, Toby, they met when they were in kindergarten and spent all of their time together since, and frankly, they reminded Rafe a lot of him and Zoe. One day when Rafe was at work with his father a familiar face walked in, it was pretty random and it took Rafe by a complete surprise.

“Jeremy?!” Rafe asked surprised. He hasn’t seen Jeremy since that awkward day on the sidewalk when Katie was a baby.

“Rafe Cameron. I didn’t know you worked here.” Jeremy said shocked.

“My dad owns the place, actually.” Rafe said matter of factly. 

“Wow, you gonna take it over one day, then?” Jeremy laughed out.

“Yea, but I mean, look at you! You’ve really taken off with your acting right?” Rafe asked, even though he didn’t care much, he just wanted the attention off of himself.

“Oh yea, and I travel all the time too, New York, LA, Boston, Chicago, it’s crazy!” Jeremy replied, very obviously gloating the fact he could go anywhere anytime. 

“Boston? You should get in touch with Zoe!” Rafe suggested.

“Zoe? You guys still talk?” Jeremy asked surprised.

“Of course! And she could use a friendly face.” 

“I’ll think about it.” Jeremy responded, while Rafe just silently rolled his eyes. Jeremy always had the “i’m better than everyone” attitude, and Rafe could always see right threw it.

A few days after Rafe’s encounter with Jeremy, Zoe decided to write a heartfelt letter to Rafe about all the feelings she’s had for him over the years. It was random, but she was missing Rafe an excruciating amount lately and couldn’t care it any longer. 

Rafe,

You deserve someone who loves you with every beat of her heart, someone you’ll always be there for you, and you’ll love every part of you...

That letter didn’t end up in the hands of Rafe, though. It did end up in the hands of Olivia, however. She opened the letter and wasn’t too pleased with what it entailed and took it upon herself to hide it from Rafe. After not hearing a response from Rafe, Zoe decided to text him to see where his head was at.

From Zoe: Rafe, I understand that you haven’t been in touch. And I just need to know one thing. Are you happy with her?

From Rafe: There’s not much I got right in my life, but this family, somehow we’re making it work. So I guess the one word answer to your question should be, “yes.”

“Babe, come back to bed.” Jeremy spoke, making Zoe lift her head from her phone with a disappointed look etched onto her face after reading Rafe’s last message. 

Another few weeks later and Rafe had a business trip with his father planned for the entire weekend which would mean leaving Katie alone with Olivia. Which was fine, in the last 5 years they had been alone together, of course, but Olivia was not expecting for Rafe to come home early after fighting with his father. 

When Rafe walked into his house he was more than confused to see a man’s coat hung up in his entry way. Making his way around the house he quickly noticed that Katie wasn’t home and there was pieces of clothing scattered around the stairs and halls. Once he got up to the bedroom he shared with Olivia he had no problem storming right in, since he assumed Olivia wasn’t going to be alone. It didn’t take long for Rafe to pull the man off of Olivia and punch him square in the face.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Rafe yelled angrily as Olivia just sat there with a shocked expression on her face. She quickly realized he was talking to both of them. They made their way out of his house pretty fast and Rafe immediately started throwing all of Olivia’s shit into boxes, not wanting to look at it anymore. As he was going threw her drawers, he noticed one of them was locked and after finally prying it open he found a letter addressed to him from Zoe. 

Rafe,

You deserve someone who loves you with every beat of her heart, someone you’ll always be there for you, and you’ll love every part of you, especially your flaws. I know Katie needs her mom. I don’t want to intrude. So if this is all wrong, just ignore it and I promise i’ll never bring the subject up again. Olivia’s not the girl for you, Rafe. Twice i’ve let you slip through my fingers. Let’s stop being afraid and take the chance. I know now I can make you happy. Call me if you feel the same way. 

Love, Zoe

“Fuck.” Rafe whispered with tears in his eyes after reading the letter. 

From Rafe: Zoe, are you there?

From Zoe: ???

From Rafe: Can you talk?

From Zoe: I don’t think you wanna talk to me

From Rafe: Zoe, please? You’re being weird?

After that text, Rafe received an incoming FaceTime call from Zoe, except it wasn’t Zoe on the other end of the line, it was in fact Jeremy.

“Jeremy? What are you doing there?” Rafe asked, utterly shocked that he answered Zoe’s phone.

“I live here now, I moved in.” Jeremy laughed out as Zoe came up behind Jeremy to see who he was talking to.

“Rafe?!” Zoe asked, surprised.

“Babe, now that he’s here, you may as well tell him what we discussed!” Jeremy said excitedly, while wrapping his arms around Zoe and pulling her into his lap.

“Tell me what?” Rafe asked nervously.

“We’re getting married! The wedding is next week, we know it’s fast, but it was the only time that worked since i have a movie to shoot soon. You have to come, obviously. Zoe wants you to give a toast.” Jeremy interrupted Zoe when she started to say it and she kept staring at Rafe through the screen. The only thing Rafe could do is smile and nod his head. He didn’t know what to say, if he had read the letter when it was delivered, things would be much different right now.

Part 6

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