#why let us live in false hope for 4 hours. to what end. come on

[beingfacetious]

girl help my parasocial relationship with a fictional billionaire is in trouble because she's being earnest about the stuff i thought she would be ironic about and vice versa

[childofchrist1983]

Paul, and Silvanus, and Timotheus, unto the church of the Thessalonians which is in God the Father and in the Lord Jesus Christ: Grace be unto you, and peace, from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ. We give thanks to God always for you all, making mention of you in our prayers; Remembering without ceasing your work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ, in the sight of God and our Father; Knowing, brethren beloved, your election of God. - 1 Thessalonians 1:1-4 KJV

Over the last two-thousand years, there have been many people who have claimed to know the date of the end of the world. In Paul's day, people expected Jesus Christ to return soon, and even though Jesus had warned them that no one knew the day or the hour, there were those who claimed to know, just as they do today. Paul is warning them not to believe in those who make false claims and to remain firm in their faith. What difference would it make in your life if you thought that the world would end in six months and Jesus would return? What changes would you make?

Okay, stop here and think about this. Now, if you said that you would pray more, be a kinder, more forgiving person, let people know that you love them, then why don't you start now. After all, you don't know if you have six months to live or sixty years to live. No one knows the day or the hour when their life will end. There are people born who don't see their first birthday and those who are still alive at one hundred. There are no guarantees. What we do know is that we will die, and that one day Jesus will return. We don't know the order of these events.

Personally, I would rather be ready when I die, than worry about the end of the world. I plan and look forward to the future, because anticipation is half the fun. If I never make it, that's fine, because the planning brought me joy. Why would anyone want to sit around worrying about the future? It will either happen or it won't, but we need to live in the now and if we don't feel ready to meet Jesus, then we need to figure out what needs to be done and do it. If we're unsure, we can pray and Jesus will let us know what we need to do and will help us do it. God knows the name of and the time for each of us as well as the time of Jesus' return. May He help us to be ready whenever He comes for us and calls us home to Heaven. Everyday, we must remember to thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for the grace that He poured out for us on the cross at Calvary. He has freed us from the burdens of sin and from the eternal damnation of Hell.

With renewed minds, hearts and wills, let us serve Him humbly and faithfully out of pure love and grateful rejoicing. May He remind us of His presence and to remain at peace, fully knowing that all will be well because He is always with us. Let us seek Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ today and everyday with all our heart and being, looking for His love, light and will for our lives with each step we take. Let us seek to please Him with our thoughts, words, and deeds and seek to advance His Kingdom of Heaven and His glory with our lives. Let us seek Him from a pure and humble heart, and when we so seek, we believe Him and His promise that we will find. May He help us all to be more sensitive to the teaching ministry of His Holy Word and Spirit, relying on Him and allowing Him to speak to us and guide us every step of our Christian journey.

God gave us the Holy Bible - His living and Holy Word - to let us know of Him and His abiding love and care as well as guide and prepare us for all our lives. May He help us encourage one another as we continue our walk with Him and our duty to Him daily. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for being present for all our new beginnings and all our lives. May He redirect any anxiety we feel as He provides countless opportunities for growth and change. May we humble ourselves before God always, asking Him to forgive our sins and make our hearts and lives anew through His Holy Word and Spirit. May He help us make Him and His Holy Word top priority, so we can grow spiritually and grow in our relationship with Him as we apply it to our daily lives. Thank God that we can focus on Him and everything about Him, for that is what keeps us sane and at peace. May our words and actions always be a reflection of Him and His Holy Word and Spirit and will.

May He help us to always walk in His grace and Holy Spirit, not by our own measure. May He give us the humble humility to know that our freedom and eternal salvation is found only in Him, so that His grace may sustain us, and we may never lose sight of His love and light and mercy. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for calling us to Him and to serve Him. May He equip us to do all that He has called us to do so that as He works through us, He may use us to produce fruit, to reach others, and to encourage all brothers and sisters in Christ. May He work all of these things in us and through us for His Kingdom and His glory. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for all His creation, for His miraculous ways and for everything He does and has done for us! Keep the faith and keep moving forward in your walk with Jesus! He loves us and He knows what is best for us. Seek, follow and trust in Him - Always!

Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Word and for sending His Holy Spirit so that we might have His grace, not only to awaken us and transform our hearts in our spiritual rebirth and guarantee our eternity with Him, but to also call upon Him whenever we are in need. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for all the reminders of His love and mercy and faithfulness within His Holy Word. He is bigger than any challenge or circumstance in our lives. Knowing this within our minds and our hearts, nothing can deter our faith in Him and His Truth. May we all accept Him and His eternal gift of salvation and ask that He would transform our hearts and lives according to His will and ways. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Spirit who saves, seals and leads us. May we always thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His almighty power and saving grace. For He is our strength, and He alone is able to save us, forgive our sins and gift us eternal salvation and entry into His Kingdom of Heaven.

May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world daily. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Holy Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful LORD, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

[animefreak1145]

The Irony of Adler and Bell

Call of Duty: Black Ops Analysis of Adler’s Brainwashing

It’s me again. And I’m here with another analysis! This time based solely around Adler. It’s always about Adler. But also Bell.

And this is about the brainwashing of not Bell, but Adler.

We have all had our theories since we first saw Adler getting tortured in the Cinematic Warzone Trailers, shown in Season 3 of COD:BOCW. Our suspicions growing when we see Sus Adler™️ doing what he does best in Season 4 by stealing an important looking chip within the crashed satellite that was taken down. (Also, Hudson, what is wrong with you letting Adler be cleared for a mission when he was just rescued like two weeks ago?!)

And although we did not see him in Season 5, we can all gather that anyone could be potentially brainwashed if you have a certain brand of earpiece. (Woods and Stryker appeared unaffected despite having their own earpieces). So the naive hope and calming words to others that Adler being different and strong is out the window. All it takes is hearing the numbers. What do the numbers mean, Mason?

Besides Bell wasn’t your average run of the mill agent either. An amazing decoder and created codes(I am with the theory that Bell did create the codes for Perseus that we have to decrypt in the game for Operation Chaos and Red Circus) with a brutal close combat skill as well as charming based on how one could talk to everyone and be a social butterfly. Also, able to handle and withstand torture after one hour of leaving Cuba despite previous injuries AND be able to go to Solovetsky/Duga and able to aim and shoot despite having a needle shoved in their eye a few hours earlier.

Bell had crazy skills. Just like Adler does. Bell was brainwashed. So is Adler.

Confirmed with this bundle that will be released. Thank you to @reclaimedbythesea who first found it and pointed it out.

We have the confirmation—the amazing, horrible, war criminal man we all love has become an agent of the man who he swore to chase down and capture/kill for longer than a decade. (Adler said thirteen years in COD:BOCW universe, so 1984 it would be sixteen years. Sheesh. Correct me if I’m wrong. I may be mistaken.) Is it wrong I kinda find it funny? Especially since he did the same thing to Bell—believing it to be necessary. Just as Stitch I’m sure finds it necessary.

It’s just a big brainwash back and forth between these two countries, a race to see who has the most mindless agents on their side in the end. But we’re not focusing on that.

We’re focusing on how Adler’s karma finally caught up to him with all his war crimes. We can infer that he hasn’t just done a cruel action like that to Bell, but to others. “Whatever it takes.” That’s his motto. He’s messed up other’s lives—hundreds, maybe even thousands. The Vietnam War has a deep dirty history, such as the real operation of Fracture Jaw, Operation Ranch Hand with the use of Agent Orange, the Mai(My) Lai Massacre and who knows how many other operations that would/did affect civilians. Not that I would see Adler doing anything like the massacre, but you can’t expect me to not believe that he may have been involved with Agent Orange somewhat? And who knows what other operations and missions he’s done as a CIA agent after the war?

My point is, the man has been gathering karma for awhile. Not just with Bell(I am aware he had his orders in the war, I’m just saying I’m not sure if he feels much guilt about some said orders. Guilt I believe he may has, but I’m not sure it’s a high degree.) Of course, Bell isn’t a saint either. They were willing to kill millions with Perseus after all. A wayyyy higher body count than Adler. And who knows what Bell did with Perseus even before the Greenlight plan? Didn’t seem to mind millions blinking in an eye, so must be pretty cold or delusional about the whole free world killing their country thing. Thank you @yunatheintrovert for this post pointing out and showing a hint of just how not good a person Bell was.

I’m not going to say they deserved what happened to them due to Adler. I feel for Bell. I really do. Just like I can’t say if Adler deserves it for everything—just can’t say that because I’m not at liberty to judge other’s actions and claim what is deserved and undeserved. Leave that to judges.

But now I’m going to point out certain things—other things. Such as what I think to be Adler’s “new” name. At least to those in the Perseus Collective/Stitch.

Do I realize that “Cipher” may just be what this awesome skin is called? Yes. Will I rather ignore it and rant about the name for two ten minutes? Also yes.

On to the analysis!

ci·pher/ˈsīfər/: a secret or disguised way of writing; a code.

This first definition is what we can all gather of what the numbers represent—the code and simultaneously the key of brainwashing others in earpieces with just a certain order of number together.

Stitch and co. used said numbers on Adler, so why not call him Cipher? The Code? Funny, cause he killed Bell—the Decoder. Maybe Bell would’ve helped him out if he didn’t kill them.

Another hammer to the irony of between these two.

But no. The name gets better. Second definition!

ci·pher /ˈsīfər/: a person or thing of no importance, especially a person who does the bidding of others and seems to have no will of their own.

PAHAHAHAHAHA! *clears throat* Now, this, this is what I think Stitch calls some true vengeance. Not only did he get to torture the man who did the same to him before, but made Adler a shadow of who he was before. A husk. Nothing really there. “Whatever it takes” indeed but for the opposite side now—a puppet with numbers for strings. Stitch did a good job in naming Cipher—I mean Adler. We don’t even know how far Adler shall go now, will the CIA have to kill him or will they be able to recondition him when/if they capture him? Will he even be the same? Nope.

Why do I find that definition funny? Well, I think Adler had a multitude of reasons for naming Bell, Bell. Just like Stitch did with Adler. And not just the obvious reasons of him ringing the bell at them to condition them as he was torturing/brainwashing them(we love Pavlov!). Let’s get the first definition out the way.

bell /bel/: a hollow object, typically made of metal and having the shape of a deep inverted cup widening at the lip, that sounds a clear musical note when struck, typically by means of a clapper inside.

I wonder if anyone knows where I’m going with this or I’m starting to seem like a madwoman.

I’m going to ask you guys to focus on the word, “hollow” for me. Hollow, as in not filled. There’s something in the bell alright, but it doesn’t do enough to fill out the hole does it? Like Cipher is now made a husk. Bell was made hollow—only a little bit filled with the little memory they got back before they were killed(maybe they weren’t, let’s just go with it for now). Or perhaps just a bit filled with false memories of Vietnam, of camaraderie. I doubt Stitch did anything like that.

Also, Bell is just an instrument for someone else to play. Play the right tune, and the Russian agent will do anything for you. Right, Adler?

Cipher is the puppet, just doing what he’s told when they give the orders. No will or thought. Just how Stitch likes it.

I’m not done yet! Second definition!

bell /bel/: a. A stroke on a hollow metal instrument to mark the hour.

b. The time indicated by the striking of this instrument, divided into half hours.

Another play on words of Bell being struck(jabbed with needles) to do what needs to be done. But it also represents the limited time that Bell has. Bell needs to help to stop Perseus and quick, Adler will make them go faster if needed by putting the highest dosage as possible without killing them to accomplish it. Or maybe it’s also a representation that Bell does actually have limited time left—Park did say MK—Ultra will be hard on the body physically and mentally. Perhaps MK-Ultra was slowly killing us and Adler just decided to give us a mercy kill while he was at it as he “tied up our strings.”( @cryinginthebackseat does point this out in their Adler/Bell story, go check it out!)

Let’s focus on the instrument thing again though, but back to Cipher. The third definition!

ci·pher /ˈsīfər/ : a continuous sounding of an organ pipe, caused by a mechanical defect.

Oh man. Sounds like Adler is being played like an instrument too, continuously due to all the numbers and how the numbers can be everywhere if one is in the armed forces since they all use earpieces. Interesting shape too, a pipe. Long and thin and has two holes, a beginning and an end but which one is the top or the bottom? The beginning and the end? We don’t know how far Adler will go like this—as Cipher. It will eventually come to a point, where something squeezes within the pipe and manages to get out. Maybe. Or maybe Adler is just forever defected, like the definition suggests.

Not quite Adler anymore and just Cipher.

Just like Bell will always just be Bell. The other self practically gone.

It seems these two will always somehow reflect and affect one another, whether one is dead or not.

I swear I love Adler, so don’t mind some of my dark humor about him and this situation he’s in. It is pretty funny. At least to me. Stitch is funny. And petty.

Hope you guys enjoyed!

@salvija @smokeywhalee @quizzyisdone @efingart @samatedeansbroccoli @weirdoartist21 @tr1ppylady

[acourtofsnakes]

Kyr’am - Rogue Chapter 5| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: Sick of the countless failures, Moff Gideon decides to call in the big guns. 

Warnings: Not many in this one, but mentions of violence(brief), brief mention of suicide, (literally barely touching on it), does another cliffhanger count as a warning?

AN: Ooooooo, new people 👀

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Wordcount: About 2184, a short one this time for introduction purposes

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar   @weirdowithnobeardo 

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl | 5: Kyr’am | 

Mando’a translation: Kyr’am - Death 

The atmosphere in the light cruiser was… tense. Beyond tense, actually. The tension as almost a living thing, vibrating throughout the room and threatening to explode into destruction if someone said but one thing wrong. 

Moff Gideon stood at the head of the huge table, staring at the holo-image in the middle of it with a look of distinct distaste. His hands were clasped behind his back as he surveyed the image, a young woman wearing a cloak, fire in her eyes and a ridiculously high bounty above her head. His anger and disappointment were evident, obvious to the men and women seated around the table before him. 

There was a break in the air, and then a young woman, Gideon’s Comms Officer and assistant, decked out in the dark grey green uniform walked in. Her even, regimented steps echoed on the floor and she stopped a little way away, offering a quick salute, “Sir, I have just received the report you requested from our spies in the field.”

The air tightened in the room, the people seated around the table holding their breath, hoping it was good. Hoping it wasn’t what had been rumoured. 

Gideon looked away from the table, seeing what his people were holding out for. He turned to his assistant, nodded for her to continue. 

The woman looked across the table, a glint in her eye and a faint smirk dancing across her lips fleetingly. “They got in touch with the contact who was representing you. Apparently, the hunter succeeded in finding the target.”

The collection of people around the table sagged in relief, one even going so far as to rub his eyes as he let out a sigh. 

The assistant couldn’t hide her smirk this time, allowing it for a few seconds, “And then he went rogue.”

Gideon knew this already, but this is a punishment for the people that promised him he’d get what he wanted “Rogue? What do you mean by that, officer?”

“He found the target and began to bring her back as requested. They got into an altercation at another planet, some witnesses said there was a fight in a back alley and the last they saw was the target dragging the hunter back to his ship.”

The table was still, dread beginning to curl around the room like a snake, twining around feet and legs and flicking out a tongue to taste the danger that lingered on the horizon. 

“And then?”

The assistant’s voice came out clear, almost disinterested, “And the next thing that we have, is the tracker and puck being destroyed. As of half an hour ago, no one knows where they are.”

Gideon dismissed her then turned to the table. He sighed, looking at the man who had recommended the Hunter this time, “’The best there is.’ That is what you told me, captain. ‘He’ll have her within a week and be back here to collect his reward.’ Well, captain, it’s been a week.” He spread his hands, his eyebrows raising in a mock expression of wonder. He looked around the room, then back at the captain, “Where is she? Are you hiding her under your seat?” 

The captain swallowed harshly, a sheen of sweat crawling over his skin. He kept his hands under the table because they were shaking, “N-no, sir.”

Gideon shrugged, that false wonder still in his voice too, “Then where is she? I took a great risk in following your advice. And it hasn’t paid off.”

“Sir, please! I didn’t know this would happen. I thought the bounty on her would be enough to keep him straight. My sources said he was running out of money, that he was exchanging favours instead of credits for the repair of his ship. He couldn’t have turned that money down. I don’t know what happened, maybe she tricked him. Used her power to-“

Gideon’s hands slammed onto the table, echoed only by his snarl, “Enough.”  

The captain cut off, unable to stop the pitiful whimper. No one moved, no one looked at him. They all knew what was inevitably coming. 

Gideon pointed at the pain, “Don’t you dare try to make a fool of me. It’s on your authority that this has gone wrong again.” He straightened up, “Every single one of you is to blame. Each one of you let me down. You will be punished. As it is, I have found other means. Expensive means.”

A lady lifted her hand, trembling. 

Gideon’s eyes slipped to her, his eyebrows raising just slightly. 

The lady swallowed, “Everyone knows she hasn’t used that power since she was a child. As far as we know, it doesn’t even exist in her anymore. I.. what’s the point?” 

Gideon looked at her, his dark eyes simmering but he said nothing. 

Only for a man across from the captain to speak up, “She’s right. They say if one of those types doesn’t use their power, they forget how to wield it. The Child repressed his powers for decades.”

Gideon was impatient now, waved his hand dismissively, “And then used it repeatedly in presence of the Mandalorian. It can come back. I have proof that it has. She used her power to heal him.”

“But, sir, we don’t know that-“

The atmosphere in the room noticeably shifted again. This time, the danger became something so much more. 

It became a truly living thing that pressed against the traitors around the table. It licked down their bones, caressed their minds but it sung a song of death and destruction. 

The door slid open, and then a figure walked into the room. 

He was clad head to toe in black, a black so dark it seemed to suck the light of the room. 

His tall, lithe body was armed with weapons of every variety, everything one could possibly imagine and more that were only rumoured, weapons that had been made just for him. 

He stalked into the room with all the ease of a predator walking into the den of some small, helpless animals. And relished in the sheer power he had without even trying. 

The harsh lighting of the room glinted off the blade sheathed down his back. The scabbard was engraved with symbols, symbols that had long since been used. The hilt was as black as his outfit, and intricately carved. If he had unsheathed it, the blade would have been as deep as obsidian, and so sharp it could have sliced off someone’s hand with a mere whisper. 

He stopped at the opposite end of the table to Gideon, shoulders back, posture tall and at ease, but coiled beneath the surface, waiting to strike. 

A hood covered his face, gold embroidery picked out by the lights and snaking around the edges of the hood. 

No light pierced the shadow that fell over his face, keeping him anonymous.  

Clearly the captain realised he wasn’t getting off this ship, because he suddenly broke the deathly silence by laughing. “Seriously? Is it dress up day or something?” He looked around the room at the horrified expressions looking back at him, “What? Are we supposed to be scared or something?” His arrogance was barred by the sweat pooling into the neckline of his uniform, the frantic pulse at his throat.

The night-clad figure said nothing. Merely rested his gloved hands on the table. A simple act. 

But the air in the room vibrated, a warning. 

Gideon inclined his head toward the figure, “Thank you for coming. You understand that I would have left your services be if these fools hadn’t failed me.”

The cloaked man nodded once, a slow incline of his head that somehow said everything he needed to. That he wouldn’t even have paid attention otherwise. 

Another woman at the table, a general, inquired quietly, “His services, sir? Does this mean-“

“Yes, General. It does. Never in my life have I been so spectacularly let down by a group of people before. You were supposed to the best in your fields, yet you couldn’t give me one tiny little girl.”

The woman swallowed, nodded and looked at the table in submission. 

Again, the Captain added another nail to his coffin, “You’re giving this freak the job? If we couldn’t find her, if even Trandoshans and Troopers and two Mandalorian’s can’t get her, what makes you think he’s qualified?” He stabbed a finger toward the figure, who remained silent, a predator watching their next mean. 

Gideon glared at him, losing his patience with this captain, “Because he is the best there is.” 

A snort from the foolish captain, “Oh? And why would you bring him in just now? Why not before?” 

Gideon’s glare could have cut through metal, his words clipped, “Because he has a very unique skill set that I would rather not be associated with using. However, because of this situation and the necessity of obtaining her, it makes him the most qualified.”

“Skill set? Like what? Is he going to bed the girl and then drag her in? Or does he have a-“

The captain’s words were cut off with a gurgle, and his eyes went wide. His chair pushed back and then he was rising from his seat, as if pulled up by strings. Every limb of his body was frozen, rigid. Like he was no longer in control. 

The figure had finally moved, lifting one of those gloved hands in a gesture that was almost casual. He tilted his head within his cloak, and a voice like silk slipped out, far too soft, far too seductive to belong to anyone good, “Perhaps you’ve been living under a rock and you’ve simply never heard of me.” His voice was crooning, desirable. It belonged to the deepest pits, full of monsters and creatures. It was the very darkness that plagued you, seduced you in a voice like honey – and then devoured you. 

Undiluted terror dawned on the captain’s face. He flinched, twitching, trying to claw at the invisible hold on his throat that was slowly crushing his windpipe. 

The cloaked figure lifted his head, like he was scenting the fear oozing from the captain. 

This man was a dark legend. A rumour that you had to be crazy to whisper, for fear of unleashing his dark wrath upon the speaker. Many, many people had heard the rumours of a hunter so precise, so ruthless that he left no trace. People went missing, and then showed up days later completely unrecognisable, bodies so destroyed that even the most advanced robots couldn’t extract enough DNA to give the victims a name. 

His work wasn’t messy though, that’s what made him so terrifying. 

It wasn’t just clean and efficient. It was beautiful. This was a man that relished in his skillset, lived for the hunt and the kill. Breathed it. It ran through his veins, worked the muscles of his heart. 

The fiercest warriors had dropped to their knees and wept for their lives before him. Mere mortals had died just from the sight of him.

As soon as he got the scent of someone, they may as well have ended their own lives to spare the pain. 

Many had. And it still didn’t stop him from finding the bodies and playing.  

The rumours also whispered that he wasn’t human. That he had sold his soul but even the vilest of monsters hadn’t wanted it. They’d taken one look and given it back. He wasn’t born by the Maker; he was something else entirely. He had no trace of soul in him aside from the Force, which he had twisted and utilised for his formidable beauty and indescribable actions.  

Gideon watched him play with the Captain, “You will receive the payment on her head and more. We know your prices and are grateful for your services, you may have whatever you need to assist you.”

The man flicked a finger and the Captain dropped to the ground, some guards dragging him away, “Just stay out of my way. You can keep the kid and the Mandalorian, but the girl is mine when you’re done with her.” The possession in his voice when said the word, “mine” sent a chill down the spines of everyone in the room. There was no room for disagreement, for challenge. They would finish what they needed to do with you, and then you would be given to him. Probably wrapped in a bow. 

Then he was gone, walking out of the room in a preternatural silence. 

This man… he didn’t just exude fear. He was fear. His were the eyes in the dark that watched you walk home.  He was the voice that whispered when no-one else could hear. His breath was the kiss of ice that licked down your spine when you were alone, making you lock the doors, pull the bed covers up higher. But he was like smoke, he seeped through the cracks, through carefully built defences and invaded, slumbering like a beast within, without his host even realising. 

He was death. 

And he was coming for you. 

Previous chapter| Next chapter

[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [One]

Night Changes Series Masterlist

Summary: It may have been years since Poe and the reader have seen one another, but that doesn’t make the emotional upheaval any easier to navigate for either of them.

Warnings: Fuck ton of angst, language, a lot of feelings, mentions of death and loss, grief. WC-5,780 (Jesus buckle up I guess!)

Poe was dreaming.

Nothing particularly special, but it was a dream nonetheless, a break from the usual nightmares that tended to invade his sleeping mind night after night when all he wanted was to succumb to the darkness for a few hours. The dream was more of a memory, a replaying of a night back on Yavin-4 so many years ago before he and Charlie had gone to flight school.

A night like every other, yet the humid evenings on Yavin 4 always did seem to hold a little mystery, like a warm blanket that wrapped one in a false sense of security; he could do anything. And on that evening, he had snuck some of his father’s good whiskey, the stuff from a planet far, far away, and gone to knock on Charlie’s window in the cover of darkness. It wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence, though the whiskey was a new addition.

Charlie had answered immediately, a big grin stretching across his face even before he saw what Poe had brought, the relief in that grin piquing his curiosity-why did he seem grateful that Poe was there? When he climbed through the window, he found you were already there, sat on the floor across the small bedroom with your back against the end of Charlie’s bed, your face wet with tears and he understood your brothers reaction.

Before Poe could ask what was wrong, Charlie noticed the bottle in Poe’s hands and tapped it excitedly, “Just what we needed! How do you do it, brother?” His voice was always so loud, but in the Horn household it wasn’t an issue. Your mother was asleep on the other side of the house and even if she did wake, she wouldn’t come in and begrudge a little teen rebellion. Poe really liked her for that, for trusting them, for never making him feel unwelcome.

“Didn’t realize it would come in so handy. What's going on, sweetheart?” The affectionate nickname had been around for years, so long now that he hardly noticed himself using it. He liked the way it tugged the corners of your lips up, even when you were sad. But he didn’t like that you were sad right now, his concern only growing when you pulled your knees to your chest and dropped your head to them, hiding your face and, no doubt, a fresh wave of tears.

You had always hated crying in front of them, for some reason. Charlie never cried, but Poe had no issues with sobbing outright in front of you both. He didn’t understand why you felt you had to hide it from him.

Without speaking, Charlie and Poe sat down on either side of you, your brother taking the whiskey and opening it, taking a small swig and huffing through the smoky burn.“Kid, you tell him.” He used that extra soft voice reserved only for you, his free hand reaching over to pat your foot on the ground next to him.

Poe had his shoulder pressed against yours. He knew you enjoyed how warm he always was, that you thought of him as your personal furnace, cuddling him even on warm days like this because you seemed to forever run a little chilly, or maybe you were just a touchy person and you were that comfortable with Poe.

After a few moments of quiet sniffling, you finally raised your head, setting your chin on your knees and staring straight ahead. “Gus ended things earlier.” You whispered into the moonlit room, your voice wavering somewhat with emotion, though Poe could sense it was more of embarrassment and disappointment of being dumped than that of actual heartbreak.

Poe felt an odd mixture of both anger and relief sweep through him, the latter of which he resolutely shoved away, into the far reaches of his mind to be stubbornly ignored. “That kriffing asshole! Who does he think he is, dumping our girl?” And truly, what the fuck audacity did that guy have? Did he not have eyes? Did he not spend just five minutes with you and feel like he was sitting in the company of a Sun, so bright and warm as you were?

You gave a watery laugh at his words, and Poe felt warmth pool in his chest; he was always good at making you laugh. He saw Charlie’s shoulders sag somewhat with relief upon hearing you, always so protective and yet he had difficulty reigning in some of your big emotions, often looking to Poe for his help.

“He said it was because I’m a prude. Because I wouldn’t, you know,” You broke off, and Poe glanced down at you to see you bite your lip briefly, eyes still forward, “He said there was no point going on dates if I wouldn’t even give him the chance to, and I quote, ‘appreciate your tits properly, at the least.’”

Poe turned to face you fully now, his eyes meeting Charlies over your head. His friend looked just as annoyed as Poe felt, hearing what that skinny piece of shit had dared to say to you. A silent agreement crossed between them then, Gus would be meeting their fists come morning. For now, though, Poe focused on you, tossing an arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your hair, “He’s a prize fucking idiot, sweetheart, doesn’t know what he’s losing. Right, Charlie?”

“Exactly. Remember kid, no guy is ever going to deserve you because you are perfect. You don’t need to cry over someone who can’t see how lucky he is you even let him breathe the same air as you,” Charlie added his arm to your shoulders, curving under Poe’s, “Flyboy and I will take care of you, always.” He promised, and you nodded before reaching both hands up to grab each of theirs on your shoulders.

“Thank you.”

And Poe stayed the night, each of you taking turns to sip the whiskey until eventually sleep won out and Charlie crashed on his bed. You and Poe curled up on some pillows on the floor together, your head resting on his chest and even though he knew you were sad, which made him sad too, he couldn’t help but feel truly whole in those moments before sleep took over.

It was a good memory, one which he would have been content to remain in until the abrupt and incessant whirring and beeping of his droid woke him, Poe shooting up in his bed with a shout of surprise. “What? Are we being attacked?”

BB8 came to a stop near the edge of his bed, his noises growing quieter now that he’d woken Poe up.

“Buddy, it’s my day off. You better have a good reason for scaring the living hell out of me-“

The droid beeped again, clarifying his reason for interrupting his rest day. Interest piqued, Poe ran a hand over his face before planting his feet on the floor and leaning towards the droid.

“The new replacement is here? Guess that means the General wants me to come and meet them?”

BB8 confirmed, and now his alarming wake-up made more sense. The droid was as excited as Poe to meet his new second in command. He’d just lost his long-time friend, Jess Pava, to a new unit on an outpost for the Resistance. He’d recommended her for it, at her bequest, because he knew she’d be damn good for the role. But it didn’t make the loss any less disruptive; she’d been gone a few weeks now and he’d had to take on extra duties to compensate.

General Organa had profusely apologized to him a few times now, only explaining that the replacement was due back from a classified mission ‘soon’, and once they were they would be coming straight to D’Qar to join his squadron. He didn’t mind the work, but he was a little miffed that the day the new Major arrived was his only day off.

Poe quickly got himself ready for the day, taking a speedy shower in his fresher before pulling on his khaki’s and button up. Once pleased with his appearance, he stepped out of the fresher and walked toward his small desk area, above which he had a corkboard with a few mementos pinned up, including his favourite picture.

You were standing in the middle, sandwiched between him and Charlie, a big, goofy grin on your face. Charlie was laughing in the photo, and Poe was looking down at you with a fond smile. You all wore flight suits, as it was taking when you had first joined Gold Squadron. Charlie had his arm flung over your shoulders while Poe’s was snaked around your waist. You had your arms wrapped around each of their waists, though Poe remembers how your hand had brushed up his back before the picture was taken, fingers unknowingly leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

He looked at this photo every morning, tapped it once and then carried on with his day. It was the only time he allowed his conscious mind to think of Charlie, of you, and the life he lost in the blink of an eye.

When the door to his quarters opened, Poe saw a few service droids unloading a couple of crates into the room directly across from his. The room where the new member of his team would live. He could see within the unit as the door was open for the droids to carry items in, a few cases already inside the otherwise bare space.

Being careful to step around the droids and avoid falling over his own, who was wheeling excitedly along next to Poe, he made his way to command, hoping the introductions wouldn’t take too long. He had woken up with a big appetite.

And he really needed his morning caf.

“Ready to meet them, buddy?” He asked of his droid, and BB8 gave a happy little ‘weeee’ as he zoomed along beside Poe. He laughed loudly and BB8 pulled ahead, the doors of the command room opening at their approach.

Poe could see into the room now, activity within quiet enough that General Organa and the new arrival both heard his laughter and turned as he walked into the room. For a few beats, Poe kept walking, his mind not processing what he was seeing because it simply could not be. And then he froze, mid-stride.

It was you.

And from the patch on your uniform, it was now Major Horn.

And just like that, every emotion, every feeling of guilt and self-hatred and heartbreak came roaring to the surface, breaking through the walls he’d so carefully built up around what he’d done when he lost Charlie, when he’d lost you, walls he spent the last few years reinforcing as best he could.

Leia knew of the history, though she didn’t know any details of why neither of you had spoken since that terrible fucking night. She simply knew you’d all grown up together, which was probably why she hadn’t felt the need to warn Poe that it was you coming to take over as his second in command. Maybe she thought you had kept in touch and were expecting her.

Stars, Poe hadn’t seen you in person since the funeral. The night he ruined the best thing he had in his life because he couldn’t deal with his grief and took it all out on you, of all people. Poe thought of Charlie then because your brother and you looked a bit alike, but it was your eyes; you each had the exact same eyes. Though yours were lined with thick, long lashes that would sometimes tickle Poe’s cheeks when you would lean in and press a chaste kiss to them.

It had only been a few years, but so much about you had changed. Gone was the goofy girl with braids falling past her shoulders, her big smile that stretched from ear to ear. No, now Poe was looking at you and you were all grown up, wearing your uniform, hair pulled back into a low bun that was woven with intricate braids, a few wisps framing your face. You had leaned out slightly, though you still had your curves, the ones that had boy after boy falling for you back in the day-no doubt now it was man after man. He found his eyes flicking from your face to your hands, but he saw no ring. Not that he should even be thinking of whether you were single or not.

But somehow, it felt like he should know if you were with someone. Because Charlie would have expected Poe to always keep an eye on you, be there for you. The only person he let down more than Charlie was you. He knew his best friend would murder him if he knew the things Poe had said to you that night. He had never known a greater regret, a regret that he carried with him since the moment he spoke and watched your face contort in pain, as though he’d hit you with a physical blow.

He had wanted to apologize, to take it all back that very moment. He couldn’t believe himself, but you’d pull away to be sick and he was so shocked at how much he’d managed to hurt you that he couldn’t do anything other than listen to you when you ordered him to get away from you.

The irony of that wasn’t lost on him, either.

He’d walked straight to the hangar where his x-wing was parked and took it out, finding a secluded spot a few hours away to camp for two days, just to clear his head. He cried and grieved and then he realized just how badly he’d fucked up and he panicked. He started to plan how he would apologize, what he would do to earn your forgiveness and then tell you how he truly felt. But he failed you, hurt you, and he knew he had a lot of work ahead to repair what he’d broken.

Only, when he came back to base and sought you out, he instead found Jess and Tommy waiting for him by your room, their faces so grim his heart had stopped in his chest, and he’s not sure it ever restarted once he found out you’d left. Without a word or a note, you had just...deserted him.

And he knew he deserved it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Nor did finding out that you’d been clever enough to have your new assignment sealed, eliminating any chance he could have had of going after you.

And he would have. He’d have flown across the galaxy to find you.

Instead, Poe was alone and never, ever forgave himself for being the reason you had fled in the first place.

Eventually, Poe grew enough in rank that he was able to access your private files. He only did so now and again, just to check-in and make sure you were still alive and on active duty. The last time he’d checked had been about five months ago, and it had stated you were on a classified mission that even he couldn’t access the details of. But he knew you were alive and doing well enough that you were getting assigned seriously high-class missions. Charlie would have been so proud of you.

It was a few awkward moments before Poe was able to function, quickly shaking off his shock and continuing forward, his eyes tearing away from your too-blank expression to meet the warm gaze of General Organa. “Commander Dameron, I believe you know Major Horn here. Thank you for coming to greet her with me this morning.” Leia smiled between him and you, and Poe had to swallow before returning it, breaking out his usual grin.

When he looked back at you, he found your blank expression had now morphed into one of utter contempt. An insane part of him wanted to laugh, because how could (y/n) Horn, his best friend since he was a boy, the girl who had owned his heart, ever look at him like that?

Instead, Poe forced a friendly smile, nodding to you politely, “Welcome, Major. It’s...it’s good to see you. And congratulations on your promotion. I’m happy to have you join our team.” He stuck his hand out and hoped you would grasp it.

Your eyes, so much more intense than he ever remembered, searched his face for a second before you took his proffered hand and shook, a small smile appearing on your lips.

“It’s an honour to be here, Commander.” You replied, and Poe had to blink, pulling his hand way almost too quickly. Stars, you even sounded more grown-up. Your voice had always been a little breathy, which Poe had always found alluring. But now it had matured, the breathless way you spoke now demure, feminine.  

“I was just telling Major Horn that after you two had met the day was open,” Leia said, seemingly unaware of the tension between her two best pilots, “I know you earned this day off, Commander, so enjoy it!”

Poe couldn’t help but give her a wide grin, “Thank you, General.”  

“Yes, thank you for taking the time to...reunite us, General.” You said, excusing yourself before abruptly walking past Poe and out of command.

He rushed after you, BB8 still at his side, now beeping in confusion at what the hell was going on. Poe ignored the droid, catching up to you just down the hall. “Wait...(y/n)...”

He trailed off, unsure of what he could even say to you, questioning why he’d stopped your departure. You ceased walking and turned to look at Poe, your expression now openly hostile, which he knew he deserved yet it still stung. He opened and closed his mouth a few times as he stood before you, a huge part of him wishing you’d start yelling at him. Or hitting him.

Instead, you gazed up at Poe and after a moment your face fell, a storm of emotions rolling across your pretty features. You took a careful, measured step back from him, as if afraid he might try and reach out to you. “I didn’t know I was coming here to be on your team,” You didn’t meet his eyes when you spoke, instead focusing on the droid at his feet, “But this is a big opportunity for me, so we’ll make it work.”

You sounded more like you were trying to convince yourself rather than Poe, but he nodded all the same. “Of course. And you deserve it.”

You scoffed, “Thanks so much, Commander.”

“I’ve missed you.”

He didn’t know what possessed him to say that. It was just that one moment you were biting your lip, and then the next you were giving him a familiar look of incredulity that he remembered receiving more than once growing up and he suddenly needed you to hear that he did miss you. Missed you more than you could ever really know.

Poe saw a flash in your eyes before you spun on your heels and marched away, not looking back. He didn’t try to follow you again. He knew there wasn’t a whole lot he could say, not right now when you were both still reeling from the shock of seeing one another again.

And what could he even say to you? Sorry for taking our friendship and smashing it to pieces at the worst possible time? For never speaking to you again because I was too cowardly to try and find you, especially once I realized how deeply I felt for you? And how could he explain how those feelings seemed to develop over such a long time that he didn’t recognize them for what they truly were until you were gone?

Charlie would have hated what had happened between you both. He would have killed Poe, easily, but he’d had also been disappointed in you. Charlie had protected you both that day because you and Poe were his family, and if he found out that his family never spoke again after the funeral? He’d have been livid.

Guilt and regret now at the forefront of his mind, Poe had lost his appetite. Instead, he found the nearest caf machine before hurrying to the flight deck and climbing in his x-wing eager to get off the ground and clear his head for a few hours.

He spent the rest of the morning thinking about Charlie, his heart tight in his chest.

✨

“I’ve missed you.”

You could hit him, you really could. No one was around, either, you might get away with it. But that would be too easy and not nearly as satisfying as you might hope, you knew.

The audacity of Poe fucking Dameron saying he missed you was so infuriating, you briefly considered violence. But you had grown up with him, knew the way he worked even if it had been a few years. You could hate him and still understand him, which meant that he wanted you to give him a strong reaction that he could confront head-on. Scream and punch and cry and he would instantly work to comfort, to apologize, but it was really just a way to make himself feel better.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

You spun away-not before seeing the pained expression cross his face-and hurried off. You figured if you still had such a decent read on him, the same went for Poe. He’d always been able to read you, your body language, expressions, hell Charlie usually went to Poe for help when he couldn’t figure out how to support you, comfort you.

You needed some time alone, time to process and figure out the best way to make this work.

When you were invited by the General herself to come to D’Qar, to work under her ‘top pilot and most trusted Commander’, you hadn't blinked before saying yes. And you’d known that it would mean, inevitably, seeing Poe again-you knew he still worked here. But you’d had no idea until he walked into command that morning that it was his team you were joining.

When you’d been standing with General Organa in the control room, chatting amicably about the weather, the very last thing you’d expected to hear was his booming, rich laugh. And then the doors had opened, a small droid whizzing in, and his laughter continued as he stepped into the room. You had thought you might pass out, throw up, or start screaming.  

With no idea what he was doing there, you had simply stared at him, watched as he reacted to seeing you. Actively working to keep your expression blank, you stared at your once best friend for the first time in years, going numb inside.

In some ways it had been almost comical; he’d frozen mid-step and gaped at you stupidly for a few beats before coming to his senses and continuing forward. And it was at that moment you had realized he was the superior you were meeting. He was the Commander you’d be working under. When he stood directly in front of you, your mind betrayed you by immediately zoning in on one specific thought.

But stars, he’d aged well.

When he finally was able to collect himself enough to wipe the surprise off of his face, it had settled into that easy smile you remembered so well. The one you tried to never think of because of the pain that would build in your chest, the memories and feelings that you had refused to look back on for a very long time now at risk of bursting through your mental walls if you weren’t careful.

Now, that smile revealed a slight crinkling around his eyes, though he hadn’t changed much beyond that. He was just as broad and lean as you remembered, just as handsome and you thought he might be a little more built up, a new layer of muscle moving under his button-up. Charlie would have loved to tease him over the grey flecks you could barely discern in his raven locks, and you suddenly wondered if your brother would have had any grey hair himself.

Those thoughts were fleeting at that moment before fury and sadness and longing were suddenly overtaking you and it was all you could do to remain composed in front of the General when, for the first time in years, you wanted to crumble to the ground. That fucking grin of his, it was always maddening, always so attractive and disarming.

When you were kids, he’d do it to get away with something and even though your parents knew he’d done it, it would work and he’d barely get a slap on the wrist. As teenagers, the strongest memory you had of that grin was one time when he’d climbed into Charlie’s room late at night and your brother wasn’t there-he’d fallen asleep on the couch-so Poe wandered to your room.

You had just gotten out of the fresher, having taken a quick rinse off to cool down, and hadn’t shut the door. Your bedroom door was closed and it was the middle of the night; you hadn’t expected any company. And then Poe just sauntered in, his eyes on your bed where he doubtless thought he’d find you. You had barely had time to freeze, completely naked and mid-stride as you sought a clean nightgown when he seemed to sense you. His head had jerked in your direction in surprise.

That memory forever burned into your mind. The way his eyes had fallen, then snapped up to your face and instead of seeing amusement or a pervy smirk, Poe had slapped his hands over his eyes, cursed, apologized vehemently in a loud whisper, and then he grinned. That grin, just as powerful even though his eyes were covered. It spread across his face and you couldn’t help but laugh despite your embarrassment, quickly throwing on a nightgown before walking over and punching him in the sides a few times, hissing didn’t he know how to knock?

And though you worried it might affect things between you and your best friend, it never did seem to. For you, it did in some ways because you couldn’t seem to get the look on his face (the one that slipped out just before he could properly react and compose himself) out of your head and you wondered what it meant-if anything. He still stayed the night, climbing into your bed, his arms casually behind his head as he laid next to you and told you about his day while never once teasing you.

At one point, when sleep was close, eyes drooping and your cheek resting against his arm, Poe’s soft voice had pulled you from unconsciousness. Barely a whisper, he said, “I really am sorry I came in without knocking, sweetheart. Please forgive me.”

And he’d sounded so concerned, so genuinely stressed that you would be mad at him, you had snuggled closer into his side and murmured your reassurances until eventually, you fell asleep.

Today, however, it was only memories of what that smile used to mean to you and anger for what it was now. That he got to keep that easy fucking grin all these years, it only pissed you off. The logical part of you knew he had been just as surprised to see you and was no doubt struggling himself now, but you didn’t have room to care.

He had been the one to break you, to take your friendship and pulverize it by saying the worst possible things to you.

He had broken you.

That fight hadn’t just been the loss of what you had thought was the greatest friendship in the galaxy. It had been the final moment that took your life from carefree and fun to what it was now, what it had been since. Joyless, lacking, lonely-so fucking lonely.

That had been the night you had to grow up, realizing that not only was Charlie gone, but the life you’d had was too. Gone were the days of adventure, of going on test flights and racing one another, of Poe getting you drinks at the cantina and Charlie sitting with his arm slung casually over your shoulders, until any of you spotted someone who caught your interest. Someone who would only be around for the night but would bring a little pleasure and escape. Charlie was more often the one to go home with such a person, happy to play the field and often making new friends you’d see again, even though he never exclusively dated them.

And the little flare of excitement you’d get each time it was just you and Poe? That had been carefree too because whatever it meant didn’t need to be examined, it just was. Casual touches that lingered and sent heat up your spine, easy and flowing conversation, long hugs even when you’d see each other the next day. All of that had been such a prominent fixture in your life, the slow escalation between you and Poe was something that, to this day, you never tried to understand.

But then Charlie died; everything changed, and you left and never looked back. All the while, Poe Dameron kept grinning like that. Fuck, fuck!

You almost walked straight past your new room, so lost in your thoughts and memories, but thankfully a passing droid greeting you politely pulled to the moment, and you only had to retrace a few steps back. Immense relief washed over you the moment you saw that all of your items had been delivered and unpacked, only a box of mementos and photos left on your desk for you to find new homes for.

Even the bed had been made already. And as much as you wanted to just climb under the covers and shut the world away, you instead set yourself to the task of putting the final touches on your space.

The room was silent save for your occasional gasps and hiccups as you let your emotions run free in the privacy. You proudly displayed the plaque you had been given from the Resistance following Charlie’s funeral; a handsome photo of him in uniform set in the middle, his name inscribed along with his rank, years of life and final resting place on Yavin-4. His flight suit patch was attached to the plaque above the photo, the final touch to a beautiful little tribute to Charlie that you could take with you wherever in the galaxy you went.

The final item you pulled out was a small protective album for photos you displayed in your room. You pulled out the photos, ones of you and Charlie as kids, of your parents, of the whole family plus Poe during one hilariously disastrous little vacation that resulted in all of you returning home and ignoring one another for three days, even Poe. A few from your teen years, early and late, Poe and Charlie usually taking up the most space in the photos between their sizes and huge smiles, and the final photo you had was your absolute favourite.

Smushed between Charlie and Poe, you had a smile on your face that hadn’t been seen in years. It was silly, girlish and youthful and not the person you were anymore. You were looking at the camera, Charlie with his big arm over the top of your shoulders, laughing as he looked toward the camera as well. Poe was looking at you. Giving you a warm smile that you always suspected he only shared with you, one that melted his eyes to pools of warm honey and made your insides wriggle. You remember how his hand burned where he gripped your waist, and you had instinctively traced your hand up his spine in the moment, though you never understood why.  

That photo both broke your heart and made you smile every time you looked at it. The last photo of the three of you together, the three of you happy. A photo that not only showed your love for one another but also hinted at that feeling you never did examine. A photo that revealed that feeling might not have been one-sided, not at all.

When you finished your tidying, you took a seat at your desk and used your data pad to pull up your schedule, curious what the days ahead would look like. Right away you could see no missions in the queue, though that could change in an instant. And as eager as you were to get flying, you knew it would probably be best to spend the next couple of days trying to establish yourself on base, meet the rest of your team, and figure out how you were going to keep a cool head spending so much time working with Poe.

With a heavy sigh, you glanced at the clock and decided a late lunch was in order, hopeful that the weird hour would leave the caf quiet. Although you knew you’d be recognized you did hope to push that off for as long as possible.  

You needed to swallow back your feelings and face the fact that you weren’t just working directly for General Leia. You were back on D’Qar; a planet that Charlie had spent enough time on, even before you joined Gold Squadron, to make lasting friendships and leave an incredible reputation behind after he’d died. You hadn’t been back since the funeral, so it was inevitable that others would be bringing him up, asking after you, where you had disappeared to, why you’d left without saying goodbye to pretty much everyone.

You needed to suck it up because you had a job to do and your work for the Resistance was the only thing anymore that made your life worthwhile. No family, no close friends, no partners, just fighting the fight and being the best damn pilot you could be.

You wondered if Charlie would be proud of you. Of how far you’d come, of the fact that you were now the same rank as he had been before his death. But after seeing Poe today you knew that wouldn’t have entirely been the case, not with how things all ended up.

So, you reasoned with yourself, that meant that you had to work extra hard here on D’Qar to push aside the history between you and your Commander. And actually, indifference and coldness were probably going to be your best assets going forward.

At least you had a game plan.

Taglist

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[outer-bnks]

Two Burning Hearts Are Dared to Break (JJ X OC) Ch. 11

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

The Pogues get a surprise visit from Agent Bratcher, causing tensions to rise in the group. JJ exposing Elle and Topper’s budding romance doesn’t help either.

Warning: swearing, brief mention of death

Word count: 1.5k

“This is so messed up”, JJ sighed, keeping his eyes down to the ground, shaking it in disbelief.

The Pogues silence that followed allowed them to mull over the possibilities of what could happen with their ongoing police investigation, before it was broken by knocking, Elle removing herself from the living room to answer it. 

Opening the door she froze, coming face to face with Agent Bratcher. He took in her reaction, looking over her shoulder, “Hi, I’m Agent Bratcher of the SBI. I’m investigating the disappearance of John Booker Routledge and Sarah Cameron. I believe you and your friends may have some information that could help me.”

He definitely had come to the right place. Crossing her arms over her chest, she felt her heartbeat begin to quicken as a wave of anxiety washed over her. They had already given their statements to Deputy Shoupe, did they really have to recount the occurrences of this Summer again. “We can’t speak to you without a lawyer present sir, sorry to disappoint”, she spoke with confidence, hoping that it was enough to create a facade that he wouldn’t be able to see through. 

Hearing footsteps approach her from behind she was soon joined by the others, relieved that she had some backup. “All due respect Agent, but it’s best if you leave”, JJ spoke, stepping in front of Elle and sizing up Agent Bratcher. 

“I know you kids are going through a lot right now and the last thing you want to do is answer more questions regarding what’s happened,”,a look of genuine sympathy was displayed before it was replaced by seriousness, “but I think there’s more to the story than anyone is letting on”.

“We’ve already given our statements to Shoupe, there’s nothing more to say”.

“Look, between us, I think Shoupe is… overlooking some aspects that I would like to dive deeper into”, JJ turned to the others standing behind him, biting his lip whilst silently asking him with his eyes what Bratcher was talking about.

Bratcher took their curious faces as his signal to carry on. “The day of the storm, Sarah came to the SBI tents very aggravated… hysterical almost. It looked like she had been crying, she had a very anxious energy to her. But her father brushed it off as her recent diagnosis,”, he flipped through his pocket sized notebook searching before reading off, “Bipolar Disorder”.

Kie’s head flicked up from the ground that she had previously been staring at, confusion and surprise making her head fill with questions. Stepping forward between JJ and Elle she made sure she had Bratcher’s attention before speaking. “Sorry what? Bipolar Disorder?”, she turned her head to look at the others to confirm her own thoughts, “Sarah...wasn’t Bipolar.”

Bratcher shuffled on his feet, bringing his notebook down in front of his body before it was joined by his other hand, his eyebrows lifted at the news, eyes flitting from one Pogue to the other to check that they all thought the same.

“I’m sorry, I’m confused. Her Dad said that she had been recently diagnosed”.

“You really believe a thing Ward Cameron says? Come on man, you don’t need to be a detective to tell that he’s full of shit”, JJ expressed. Pope following that up with, “Wouldn’t that information be on her medical records sir?”.

Bratcher nodded, his eyes holding a pleading look as he skimmed over the Pogues once more. “Do you guys see why I need your help in this investigation now?” 

Based on the silence that followed his question, he realised that the group may need some more convincing. “Listen, you all knew these two probably better than anyone else on this planet, let alone this island. Every little insignificant piece of information you have about them could lead us to either finding them, solving the case, or both. I need you to do this, not for me, but for them. They would’ve done the same for you right?”

His emotional tactic seemed to work, the Pogues glancing at each other before once again silently reaching an agreement. JJ stepped to the side, his arm outstretched to welcome the man into Elle’s house, “Come on in sir”.

---

“And then they were chased into that raging storm”, Pope finished. They had spent the past 2 hours in Elle’s living room describing the gold game and everything that occurred during their Summer, Agent Bratcher sipping on the tea Elle had prepared for him, in between jotting down notes on his pad. There were multiple instances where everyone had to hold back tears, when the memories of John B and Sarah became too painful.

“So that’s where the story ends?”, Bratcher enquired.

“Yep, forced into the storm by your men after being falsely accused of murdering Sheriff Peterkin”, JJ snapped sarcastically.

“So why didn’t anyone tell the police, try and clear John B’s name?”.

“Were you not fucking listening? We tried, and no one believed us. No one will ever believe us because we’re scum from the poor side of the Island”.

Bratcher maintained his gaze on a disgruntled JJ, before turning to others. “Look guys, I know the tension is high right now and you’re all grieving. But I’m not the bad guy here. I just want to solve this case. I want to find out what really happened to Big John, Scooter Grubbs, the Sheriff and your friends. And it seems like you have the answers. If you can all trust me, I can get the justice you all deserve. That your friends deserve,” he paused, “aren’t you guys tired of fighting this on your own?”.

The group pondered on his words. They were. They were all so tired. 

Nodding his head, Pope spoke, “Yes, Agent Bratcher, we want justice, and we’re willing to do anything to get it”.

----

After another half hour of deconstructing the recent events, Bratcher decided it was time to leave. The Pogues all meeting in Elle’s living room, with solemn expressions, the exhaustion of the day catching up to them. 

Letting out a sarcastic chuckle, JJ was the first to interrupt their thoughts, “Well that went well”.

Elle shook her head, fed up with his attitude, “JJ you didn't need to be so rude, he’s trying to help”.

Rising from his seated position on her couch, his tone became even more sarcastic, using his hands to exaggerate his point, “Oh yeah really Elle? Why should we trust anyone!”.

“Because we don't have much of a choice anymore!” Elle exclaimed, “Sarah and John B are gone, and now we’re being held responsible for this shit show! You really think they would’ve let us take the fall if they were still here?”.

JJ and Elle were face to face now. “Don’t try to play the emotion card with me! You might be naive enough to spill our secrets to Kooks in hopes for some sympathy and attention but I’m not. The more we tell them, the more they have to pin on us!”.

Kie and Pope snapped their heads to Elle, JJ’s revelation clearly surprising them.

“Wait wait, hold on,” Pope stepped forward between the two, turning to Elle, “Who have you been talking to?”.

Frustrated, she ignored Pope’s question, “God JJ you’re blowing it out of proportion!”.

“You’re falling in love with a Kook but I’m blowing it out of proportion, yeah right”, JJ replied, running his hand through his hair and walking away from the argument to the other side of the room. If Elle was paying attention to the blonde boy she would realise that his reaction wasn’t truly one of anger, but rather hurt.

Kie stepped forward, taking JJ’s place, “I’m sorry, you’re what now?”, she spoke bewildered by the accusation.

Continuing to ignore the other two, Elle’s attention remained focused on the boy who had his back to her, staring out the ceiling to floor windows at the sun setting below the horizon. She walked closer to him, hoping to regain his attention. “Jesus JJ, I get asked on one date and all of a sudden I’m the enemy”.

Taking his cap off his head, he ran a hand through his hair, before taking a breath. Turning his head to the side to face Elle, he held her eye contact. She couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes. She’d seen him angry and upset before, but this was different. She had seen this emotion only a few times, trying to place a finger on what it usually meant. Suddenly, the emotion had disappeared, replaced with one of betrayal, “when that date is Topper Thornton then yes Elle, you are the enemy”. 

Taglist:

@mybillyhardgrove @cyrrusmreadings @downbytheouterbanks @belledutchess @imagines-and-preferences1216 @teamnick @lauraxwndrlnd @thehomeiknow @obxlife @shawnssongs @rudyypankow @gigi-june @x-lulu

[kitkatd7]

What Could’ve Been; Broken Hearts & Whiskey Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky finally starts trying to get his shit together but when you show up with another man it throws everyone for a loop.

Warnings: Angst! Overprotective Bucky, Pissed reader, Threats, womanizing character who gets what he deserves, Talk of the breakup, Cursing that Steve would be ashamed of, Tiniest bit of fluff but not really.   

Word Count: 3,331

A/N: I’m finally backkk!!! I’ve been wanting to work on this series for some time now and I’m finally getting a bit of motivation to do so! I hope you enjoy it!

A/N 2: Entire paragraphs of italics are flashbacks, single sentences of italics are internal thoughts, Bold italics are song lyrics.  I used lyrics from the song What Could’ve Been by Gone West for this story.  

Masterlist of Masterlists || Marvel Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Part 1

-----------------------------------------

**2 Months After Breakup**

Waltzing into the living room of the Avengers tower, you're met with a chorus of greetings from your adopted family. Despite you and Bucky being over you still spend time with everyone else- just when he isn’t around. 

You haven’t seen him since you broke up and you’d like to keep it that way. Seeing him would just be more than you could handle; you already lost him so why remind yourself of it more often than you already do? But at the same time his absence from movie night is just as painful of a reminder- like a puzzle with a lost piece. 

Snapping back to reality you give a halfhearted smile, joining Steve and Sam on the couch as Natasha hits play on ‘John Wick’.

----------------------------------------

2 hours later you’re standing in the kitchen making snacks with Sam before the next movie starts. “That’s ridiculous, Sammy!” You giggle, watching the microwave timer count down until the popcorn is ready. “Bacon does not belong in ice cream.”

You hear him chuckle behind you as he empties M&M’s into bowls. “Bacon belongs in everything, sweetheart. You're gonna try it sometime or else...”

“Or else what, Sa-” You cut off as you turn around, frozen on the spot as you peer over 

Sam’s shoulder.

“Hey, y/n,” Bucky whispers. Your gaze travels up and down the man you used to know, but he’s different. His eyes have bags beneath them from lack of sleep, his hair longer and more unruly than it was the last time you saw him. The stubborn jawline you remembered was replaced by a nervous clenched jaw. His eyes once so bright were now timid and dull; no longer holding the same sparkle that used to make you smile.

In an instant your expression went from a carefree woman with her friends to the girl who’s heart was shattered by the stranger before you whose face you used to know so well. 

“Can we talk?” Bucky asks gently, his expression hopeful yet dreading. 

“What are you doing here, James?” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself as Sam looks between you both carefully.

“I live here,” Bucky nearly scoffs. 

“Barnes,” Sam warns, his shoulders tense as he glances at you worriedly.

“I don’t want to talk to you, James. I have nothing to say.”

“All you have to do is listen. Please, doll.” 

Despite your best efforts to appear unbothered, the nickname shatters your false bravado. “Don’t call me that,” your voice breaks as tears cloud your vision.

“Excuse me,” you whisper, rushing past both men, ignoring Bucky’s call of your name and attempt to stop you. 

“Let her go, man. You’ve done enough,” you hear Sam say as you flee down the hallway, slamming the bathroom door behind you. 

Locking the door you turn on the faucet as the tears begin to fall and the suppressed memories rush back:

**2 Months Before Breakup* Flashbacks*

“It’s midnight! Where the hell were you?” You yelled, tears pricking your eyes.

Bucky sighed in defeat, his expression resigned and cold. “Can we do this in the morning?” His tone more of an order than a request as he turns his back on you and begins to walk down the hallway of your apartment. 

“No, we can’t do it in the morning. You owe me an explanation. You were supposed to be here when my parents got here. You promised.” You sniffled as Bucky’s shoulders stiffened. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a good enough reason,” he mumbles before walking away. 

I haven't stopped thinking about you

Has it really been this long?

Two years and an ocean between us

And I don't know where it all went wrong

I know I coulda kissed you harder

And yeah, you coulda followed through

Shoulda talked a little bit softer

But we meant every "I love you"

**1 Month Before Breakup**

Glancing around the restaurant you see no sign of Bucky. Checking your phone for the 8th time in the past 10 minutes, you sigh. Where is he? You’ve been here for an hour; waiting in your new dress for the man who hadn’t bothered to show. You’re getting tired of the pitiful looks the waitress and the other customers are shooting you. Polishing off your second glass of wine you open your phone: no new messages.

You’ve already sent Bucky 5 texts and called him 4 times; you're done.

Paying for the wine quickly you all but flee the restaurant, trying to hold back your tears. If you weren’t so upset you would probably laugh; laugh at yourself for being so naive to think he would keep his word. But you can’t bring yourself to laugh, not while your heart slowly shatters at the hands of the man who swore never to hurt you.

I don't know what this is or what it isn't

But it feels like we've got unfinished business

**2 Months Ago; AKA Week of Breakup**

“Hey this is y/n, I can’t come to the phone right now cuz I’m out livin my life! Leave it at the beep.” He hears your all too familiar voicemail through the speaker. He had helped you come up with it, you hadn’t known what to put on it. He kicks himself, knowing you weren’t actually out living your life, just dodging his calls. Not that he blamed you- He deserved it and he knew it. Calling again, he’s not surprised when he hears your voicemail again.

“Hey… Um, listen, I know I was supposed to be at your place after the mission… I just wanted to unwind with the guys and- Shit. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think you would mind that much, I’ll be over in a bit to make it up to you, okay?” He leaves the message and ends the call before starting his car and driving towards your apartment, guilt heavy in his stomach.

You listen to his voicemail over and over, a strange mix of rage and sorrow weighing on your heart.

Tears roll slowly down your cheeks silently as you lay curled up in a defensive ball on your bed, trying to block out the unmistakable sound of Bucky begging you to open the front door; “Babe, please open the door,” He says, fist resting gently against the frame. “I’m sorry- really, really sorry. Please let me in and we can talk about it,” He sighs, resting his head against the door in defeat. He could break the lock and go in. You both know that. But he wouldn’t do that to you- All that would do is make you fear him and that’s the last thing he wants. He slides his back down the wall til he’s sitting on the floor next to your door, his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair; Tears gathering in his lashes. He really messed up this time.

The next day you drag yourself out of bed, trying to forget last night and all the tears you shed. After a shower and breakfast, you head out the door for a coffee run before work. You stop in your tracks when you see Bucky still sitting there, eyes red from lack of sleep and regret written all over his face. He jumps up when you walk out, keys in hand, the door closing behind you. “What are you doing here?” 

“I- I came to apologize,” he murmurs, looking in your eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you bite, moving to step around him but stopping when he steps to block your path.

“Bucky, I’m going to be late for work,” you say coldly, glaring at him. “Move out of the way.”

“Please doll, just let me explain-”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “I understand perfectly, James.” You watch as he flinches a little at the use of his first name. You only use it when you're really mad or really happy, and it isn’t the latter right now. “You were too busy with your beer buddies to come see your girlfriend after being gone for three weeks, but what’s new? It’s been like this for months. I guess it was naive of me to expect something else this time.” 

'Cause we left blood the on the tracks

Sweat on the saddle

Fire in the hills

A bullet in the barrel

Words never said in a story that didn't end

Looks like you're on the mend and I'm on the bottle

We folded our hands with money on the table

**Present Day**

All the broken promises, nights alone and tears came rushing back as sobs racked your body. Sliding down the door you rest your head between your knees, eyes screwing shut tightly in a useless attempt to stop the bittersweet memories and tears. 

Little do you know that outside the door sat a man with tears clouding his vision as he listened to your muffled sobs on the other side of the door. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to turn back time and undo all of the agony he caused you and hold you like he's been wishing he could for the past 2 months. You were just on the other side of the door, separated from him by a few inches of wood and yet you had never been farther away. What did he do?

Tried moving on, but I keep coming back again

To what could've been

What could've been

Oh, what could've been

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

-------------------------------------------

Stumbling into your apartment you all but throw your keys and purse down before shuffling into the bathroom and turning on the hot water for a shower before turning back to the mirror.

The person you see looking back at you in the mirror isn’t who you remember- or at least not who you thought you were. The person you remember was carefree and happy; living in a dream with the love of their life. You don’t recognize the girl in the mirror with swollen, bloodshot eyes and shoulders that hold the weight of the world. What happened to the girl you used to know?

A single tear rolled down your cheek, leaving a mournful trail in its wake. Bucky. Bucky happened to that girl. 

There had always been doubt hidden in the back of your mind; doubt that your beautifully woven reality would become nothing more than a tangled web of what once was and could’ve been, but you never thought it would end like this. You had imagined it being another girl that came between you, or perhaps his self loathing or the inadequacy you felt. Never did you think it would be the unexplainable, cold, unfeeling resentment that had taken over the gentle, sweet man you thought you knew.  Where did it go wrong?

A couple more simple, "I'm sorry's"

A little less tryna be right

I wonder how many good mornings we wasted

'Cause we didn't say goodnight

One touch before we fell asleep

Just before our love was out of reach

Coulda been enough, coulda saved us from this loneliness

------------------------------------------

“Steve?” Bucky calls out as he strides into the training room, the door banging shut behind him. Whirling around Steve clutches a hand to his chest. “Jesus, Buck! You scared the hell out of me!”

“I need your help,” Bucky demands, jaw set in a firm line and his eyes glittering with determination. 

Steve runs a hand over his face, letting out a sigh. “Is this about Y/N and the other night? Because if it is I am not apologizing to the poor girl for you, so you can just-” 

“I want her back.” 

“You what?!” Steve exclaimed, his jaw dropping.

“I want her back- I need her back. And I need you to help me.” 

“Damn it, Bucky. It’s been 2 months and you saw how she still feels about what you did. How are we gonna fix that?”

“I don’t know yet, Steve… But I have to try. Please.”

-----------------------------

Strolling into Tony’s party happily, you smile up at your date, your arm linked with his.

You greet Tony with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek before turning towards the sound of Natasha calling your name. Sashaying towards her you give her a hug before turning to give Thor and Steve one as well.

“So, who’s this?” Nat asks, gesturing towards your date who’s eyeing her unabashedly, his gaze dropping to her neckline.

“Oh, sorry! This is Jordan!” 

You roll your eyes as Thor begins lightly interrogating him, but he doesn’t pay much attention, his gaze fixed on Natasha’s retreating form.

“Can we talk?” Steve asks, his hand resting gently on your forearm. Following him into a nearby corridor you give him a puzzled look. “Is something wrong, Steve?”

“Um, not exactly…” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, what is it then?”

“It’s about Bucky.” Seeing your irritated expression he holds up his hands innocently. “Wait a minute. Just hear me out, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Look, he’s been spiraling since you guys broke up; not eating, always working and out on missions constantly, and his nightmares are getting worse again.”

“Why should I care?”

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend like you don’t still love hi- Actually, fine, Y/N. If you want to pretend that you don’t care then that’s your problem. Just know that seeing you the other night? Changed something. He’s trying again, and I don’t want to see him lose that. So even if you want to tell yourself that it doesn’t matter to you, at least think about it for me.” Steve turned away, pausing for a moment. “Oh, and by the way? Seeing you here tonight with someone else isn’t gonna be good for anyone… But why should you care, right?”

Taken aback by Steve’s lack of usual patience, you can only watch as he walks off, disappearing into the crowd and leaving you with mixed emotions and a hard decision ahead of you; what were you gonna do?

No matter how hard you tried to block out thoughts of Bucky they always managed to slip back in between the cracks in your shattered heart. Steve was right; you did care. But what were you supposed to do about it tonight? Especially about Jordan. Were you supposed to walk up to him and say ‘oh, by the way you have to leave because my ex is here and he may or may not rip your arms off? No, that wouldn’t work.

Racking your brain for a solution, you snag a glass of champagne from one of the passing trays, downing it in the hopes of drowning your mixed emotions - it didn’t work. Taking a deep breath, you start weaving between the sea of bodies towards where you left Jordan.

Spotting Thor and Tony you make your way towards them, smirking when you hear Tony arguing with Thor over… something. 

“Where’s Jordan?” you ask, joining their small circle and trying to shake off your conversation with Steve.

“He was here a minute ago… I’m not sure though, kiddo,” Tony says, giving you a puzzled glance. “Speak of the devil, here he is!” Tony exclaims as you look over your shoulder to see a slightly ruffled Jordan walking towards you, his eyes holding an unnatural hazy look.

“Where were you?” You ask lightly, gaze raking his bedraggled form; his shirt slightly untucked, hair mused and lips pink. 

“Oh um, nowhere. Just the bathroom.”  

Accepting another glass of champagne, you push down the fury in your chest. You’d just taken a sip when an all too familiar figure came to stand beside you; a scotch glass in his hand and clad in an unfairly attractive black suit. “Hey Y/N, who’s this?” 

Nearly choking on your drink, your eyes widen. “Bucky! What are you doing here? You hate these parties!” You say before you can stop yourself. Stupid. The offhanded statement would seem innocent to most, but to you- to you it was a reminder that you still knew him better than anyone else did, a reminder that you remembered all the nights alone together instead of at the noisy parties, a reminder that you still cared enough to remember. 

You could see that he was thinking the same thing. “This is Jordan. My…” you faded off, not quite sure what to call him.”

“Date,” Jordan finishes for you, wrapping his left arm around your waist lazily, his hand traveling slightly further than appropriate for the first date. “But we’re keeping things loose, isn’t that right?” Jordan asks, glancing at you but not waiting for an answer. “And who the hell are you?”

Your eyes widen in shock, glancing back and forth between the two men; taking in Jordan’s cocky smirk and Bucky’s knowing look. 

Bucky extended his hand, a malicious smirk on his lips and dark glint in his eyes as he took in the unprofessional state of Jordan- including the lipstick stain on his white button down- and the uncomfortable shift of your weight, leaning away from your sorry excuse of a date. 

Jordan accepted the outstretched hand, wincing visibly and paling at Bucky’s iron grip.  “Bucky Barnes,” Bucky offered, enjoying as the other man wriggled uncomfortably in his grip, his arrogance forgotten. His gaze lighted on Bucky’s metal arm, his eyes lighting with recognition and terror. 

“Holy- you're the Winter Soldier! God man, I’ve heard so much about you-”

“An honor, I’m sure,” Bucky drawls, looking bored, his voice dropping an octave in warning. “Now get lost.” 

You sputter defiantly as Jordan scurries off, his tail between his legs. 

“What was that for?!” you fume,a fire burning in your eyes as you turn on Bucky.

“Oh c’mon. The guys’ been eyeing every other woman in here! He’s a douche! What was I supposed to do? Just let him feel you up after sneaking off with who knows what girl?”

“Who ‘feels me up’ is none of your concern anymore!” 

“Come off it, Y/N! You didn’t even want him touching you! I was protecting you, so your welcome,” he huffed.

“I don’t need protecting, and I sure as hell don’t need you to protect me. So you can go fuck yourself, James. You can’t treat me like shit for months and then get mad when someone else does the same thing!” you snarl, spinning on your heel and storming off as Bucky watches you. 

Bucky stalks across the floor, the crowd parting before him; not willing to get in the way of the 6 foot man on a mission. Locating his target- dancing with another girl no less- he grabs him roughly by the collar before pushing him against a pillar.

“What the hell, dude?” Jordan fumes, eyes locking on Bucky’s before he goes slack, his eyes widening in horror when he recognizes the former assassin.

“Every single thing you’ve ever heard about me is true, so shut up and listen closely,” Bucky growls, his arm braced against Jordans chest forcefully, a murderous glint in his eyes. “I expect you to do exactly what I say, and if you don’t, I’ll know. First, you are going to get your sorry ass out of here, and then you are going to send Y/N an apology text, telling her what an asshole you are, and that you don’t deserve to even look at her. Then, you are not going to get within 1,000 feet of her, and you are not going to text, call, or even think about her ever again, or I swear to God I will hunt you down, cut your balls off and shove them down your goddamn throat, got it? Nod if you understand. Good. Now. Get. Out.” 

Releasing Jordan, Bucky watches as he falls to the floor before scrambling towards the door with the fear of God instilled in him. 

“What the hell did you just do, Bucky?”

-----------------------------------

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[agentsoftie]

marry me? — spencer reid | ch.1

— false engagements

────────────

summary: the one where you propose to your brothers girlfriend for him, and your boyfriend just happens to witness it

spencer r & fem! reader : 1.5k

warnings: pure fluff and confusion

authors note: a series! guys! ahh! omg! i can’t believe it! i’ll try to upload once a week with this series my loves! but ahhhh, i can’t believe it! hope you guys like this first chapter! also, thanks @feverdreamreid for reviewing this. love you kenna <3

────────────

“Y/N, Y/N, could you come here real quick?” Mark nagged.

You and your brother, Mark, were both forced to go to a family reunion. And by forced I mean, they were forced to bring their partners. Mark and Y/N tried to stay away from family reunions, especially when it means coming with their partners. Because every time they came with them, the baby pictures and the awkward stories always came.

“What do you want Mark?” You sneered as you followed him into the empty room. 

“Okay, woah, um, I’m gonna propose to Christy tonight ... I think.” 

You were amused, “What? Oh my gosh! Do you have a ring? When did you know? Am I gonna have a sister-in-law?”

“Calm down Y/N,” he hushed while looking out the door to make sure no one heard. “To answer your questions, yes, I do have the ring on me, and no you can’t see it. And I just knew one night that I loved her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“Mark! That’s spectacular! The only thing, can you wait for Spencer to come?”

“Y/N, I’m not gonna wait for your boyfriend to come and just so he can watch me either get a wife or be rejected. Plus who knows if he’s even gonna show?”

“Hey, okay, that’s kinda harsh. You know Spencer with his job! He travels a lot! It’s part of his work! He really does care for me you know. And, if you would bother to talk to him like one-on-one without me being there, you might actually become friends.” You said, defending Spencer. Good thing he wasn’t here yet, or else he would never let go of this.

“Okay well, I haven’t even proposed to her so whatever.”

“Speaking of that, you got something planned?”

“Well um,-” He was cut off by Christy walking in.

 “Oh, there you two are! I was looking all around! Now come on,” she chirped while grabbing both of our hands. “Nana Rose found some new pictures!” And you both looked at each other with the same look you do every time they invite you over for a reunion.

Quickly letting go you rushed into the kitchen to pour yourself some wine. And by some, I mean lots. Quickly chugging it down, you noticed that people were gathering around the fireplace and so to find out why you quickly put your glass down and went over there. And to your surprise, there was Mark, in the middle of the living room on one knee.

A couple of people around him murmured some things, but he, on the other hand, couldn’t say anything.

“I- Christy um- I’ve- um-” He stuttered. It was almost as if he couldn’t move. 

“Wow okay, I’m doing this.” You muttered under your breath while tapping on his shoulder to signal him to get up.

“Christy,” you said getting down on one knee. “Imagine as if I’m Mark right now, it will make things much easier, trust me. Christy, ever since the first time I met you and your beautiful blue eyes, I could t get you off my mind. Even if it took me 5 months to admit that I liked you, I’m glad I did. Because every day waking up to you, is a day I leave the house with a smile on my face. And frankly Chris, I like that feeling! And I want to feel it every day! So will you ... Christy Brie ... Marry me?”

“Yes ... Yes! Yes! Yes! Of course, I will! Mark, I love you!” She cheered as he quickly ran and hugged Mark. You got up and looked around, and saw him. Your boyfriend, Spencer. Standing in awe and amusement.

“I can explain.” You said as you went up to him.

“Oh I’m sure you can,” he smirked while trying to hide his laughter.

Mark and Christy came over right after and immediately went for a hug. “Oh Y/N I love you so much! I would marry you right on the spot if you didn’t have a boyfriend!” Mark nudged her a little, “oh yes and I wasn’t getting married!”

“Y/N/N how did you know what to say?” He asked. 

“Mark, every time we’re together, all you do is talk about her. That’s all you do.” You deadpanned.

At this time, Christy had just hugged Spencer, “Spencer, I can imagine the shock on your face coming in, I’m so sorry if you felt any discomfort. I promise I’m not trying to get with your girlfriend.” 

“Christy, It’s fine don’t worry. All that matters is that you, Y/N, and Mark are happy.” He kept his hands in his pockets, slowly jumping up and down, with a very mediocre expression on his face. You could tell he wasn’t uncomfortable, more just tired. Trying not to say that many words. His hair was still a little messy, and his socks were mismatched. It had looked like he just came from work since he was still wearing the suit he had left the house in.

Spencer and you had been dating for 3 years now. You moved in after the second though. He thought that it would make things easier on both of your ends. Not having to drive almost an hour to see each other. So you moved in with him (saying he had to go to work at a moment’s notice). Of course, you both did fight sometimes … It’s completely normal. No couple would never fight. Not even the best of them.

Although, sometimes … Most of the time, it would be about his work. You knew of course that his work was important. But sometimes even that couldn’t cut it. One time, you got vigorously mad at him when he missed a date. Of course, it wouldn’t make sense to get into an argument over something so small, but he had been promising you about this date for over two months. And this time, you weren’t gonna take any of his “oh I got stuck in work” or “I just got too caught up in a lot of paperwork”.

You had both seated for dinner now, all of you had. Your mom and aunt had just brought the warm food in, and you couldn’t wait to dive in. 

“So, Mark,” my mother asked, “When are you guys getting married?”

“Mom,” he chuckled, “We just got engaged. We haven’t had enough time to talk about it.” 

“Sure, sure.” She said in defeat. “Well, at least now I’ll have another daughter! You know how much your dad and I wanted girls! But, we got stuck with you and your brother Luke instead. Thankfully we had Y/N after. But even she left us. Promise you won’t leave me, Christy. Promise me.” 

“Mom!” Mark and you both yelled in unison, causing everyone to laugh a little. 

“I promise that I’m never going to leave you, Lucy,” Christy said chuckling. 

“And Spencer now that Mark and Christy are off the market, when will you be proposing to my dear- dear Y/N?”

“Mom!” You yelled, jumping up slightly. 

“I- um-” he stuttered. 

You grabbed his hand from underneath the table. “You, you can’t ask that question to people. Especially my boyfriend!” You yelled in a hushed whisper voice. 

“Oh, you can’t ask anything nowadays! Did you know that your father and I got married when we were only 25!”

“Mmm, okay well Mark’s almost 30, so nag him instead of me.” 

“Okay, okay, no more fighting, I’m hungry. So can we eat?” Mark asked.

 “Let’s eat!” Your mom said.

It was around 10 pm now, and you had just gotten home. Deciding to leave early, and a good thing too, because right after you left you got a text from Mark saying “SOS, Nana’s telling stories! Please save me!!!!”

“Okay,” you said getting into your bed, “I should probably explain what happened back there. If the whole proposal thing.”

“I think I already know what happened, but go ahead.” He spoke as he turned on his alarms for the morning. He didn’t really need it, but you did so he always put them on. 

“Okay so, Mark had told me that he wanted to propose and I was like ‘What that’s amazing!’ and he’s like ‘Yeah, I know’ and so he does it but he can’t say anything. So me being the amazing and incredible little sister I am, got down on one knee for his girlfriend and proposed to her for him.”

He simply just laughed. 

Laughed.

That’s all he did.

“Hey! You could at least say ‘I’m proud of you, or something! It’s not that difficult you know.”

“Y/N, Y/N calm down. You know I love you. And I’m really happy you did that for your brother … Happy now?”

“Whatever,” you mumbled while snuggling into him. “I’m tired, so goodnight.”

He kissed your forehead before turning off the lamp. Quickly, he made sure that you were asleep. He turned the lights on and then off 4 times to make sure you had no reaction, and then he called his friend.

“Derek, hey,” he whispered, while looking at you for any sign of movement, “think I’m finally ready … I wanna marry her.”

[cactuskate]

Chapter 4: Navarro

an: as promised!

Summary: Y/N, Chewie, and Han make it to Navarro, where they are looking to find a high paying guild job. Y/N -- being the badass she is -- gets the information Han and Chewie need, but not without a little jealous angst from Han. Queue a fight in the cockpit and a sweet ending!

word count: 4190

----

You wake up the next day feeling restless. Your feelings got the better of you last night, and your lack of good sleep proved that. As you start to shift to get out of bed, the pain from your ribs shoots you back to reality.

The second day of travel goes by without any major incidents - Han-related or otherwise. You keep mostly to yourself, finishing your repairs and cooking enough food for a week. With Navarro in sight out of the window of the cockpit, you and the crew buckle in for an easy landing. Of all the places in the galaxy you could imagine visiting, of course the first place you go is another sand dune planet. Han and Chewbacca unload the cargo to the delivery point within an hour of landing, proudly boarding the Falcon with more credits than when they left.

“I take it you two got paid well?” you ask, chuckling at how giddy these grown men seem.

You are sprawled out on the couch in the living quarters, changed into your best desert-night-out attire - a matching tan ensemble, exposing your sunkissed arms and a plunging neckline. Your top and pants meet at your hips, covering the bruising that has gotten worse. You are still cradling your side, but the sight of your crew is enough to distract you from the throbbing pain from your ribs.

“Onto the next gig,” Chewie growls happily, stashing his share of credits in a bin he keeps above the couch. “Are you ready to hit the town? I think she’s going to be our secret weapon,” Chewie asks you, turning to Han who looks at you with a hint of concern in his eyes as he realizes you're wearing an outfit that conceals your injury.

“I was born ready, let’s go,” you smile, getting up from your spot on the couch.

Han hands you a communicator and instructs you on how to work it. You place the speaker in your ear and clip the controller around your wrist. Your other bracelets disguise it perfectly. Han and Chewie test their communications before the three of you leave the Falcon.

You follow the pair at a distance that makes it seem you aren’t part of their group. They lead you to the cantina where the guild members tend to hang out. Han and Chewbacca take a seat in a booth close to the entrance. You wait a moment at the door, scanning the crowd for someone who looks like they’d give you the information you need.

“We’ll sit just out of sight while you look for information. Keep your mic hot when you find someone. Once you get the location of the guild meeting, we’ll slip out the front and meet you back at the Falcon when we get a job,” Han chimes in over the comm, his rough voice echoing in your ear.

You don’t respond, as to not indicate to anyone paying attention to you that you are in cahoots with your crew. There. You spot a guild member seated at the bar, keeping a low profile but just buzzed enough that he’s looking for some entertainment.

Approaching the bar, you slyly click your comm’s mic on, making sure not to meet the man’s eyes that you now feel burning on you. You sit down next to him, and order your go-to drink for missions like this - a drink that takes most men by surprise that a lady like you would order it. Whatever that means.

“One fuzzy tauntaun, please,” you say to the bartender, sliding enough credits for the drink and a tip across the bar. You casually toss your hair behind your shoulder, exposing your collarbone and neck to the man seated next to you, still feeling his gaze adjusted on you.

“I would have never pegged you to be a fan of the fuzzy tauntaun,” the man says to you, flashing you a smoldering look.

You smile flirtatiously, knowing that the oldest trick in your book worked once again.

“You seem like too much of a lady to enjoy such a strong drink,” he says, shifting in his seat to get a better view of you.

“I like to keep people on their toes,” you say sweetly, reaching for the drink the bartender placed in front of you, taking a long, slow sip of the fiery alcohol while keeping your gaze on the man in front of you. You feel a familiar set of eyes land on your back. Han. He shifted in the booth to watch you engage with this man, intently observing your body language.

“What is someone as pretty as yourself doing in a place like this?” the man asks, carefully watching your drink release from your lips and land back on the table. “It’s not everyday I get to sit next to the most beautiful woman in the galaxy,” he adds.

What a line. You’ve heard that one before, never sincerely though. Every man uses it with one goal in mind. Hearing it, though, assures you that you’ve picked the right person who will bend just enough to give you the information you need.

“You flatter me,” you squeal, mustering up the most flirtatious tone you can, softly pushing the man’s shoulder away, then moving it to settle closer to you than it was before.

The man flashes a smile as you reel at his compliment, and you linger your touch on his shoulder just long enough to peak his interest. Slowly bringing your hand back to your legs, you respond, “I’m here for the same thing as just about everyone else - a job.” You bat your eyes and smile, as you bring your drink back up to your lips, hovering before you take a sip to ask, “Do you know how I could get a good paying job with the guild as an outsider? I’m new to Navarro, but I’m just passing through looking for work,” you say just softly enough to get the man to lean in even further. You take another long sip, maintaining his gaze.

“I’m not really supposed to say,” the man trails, pausing for a moment, entranced by your presence. You narrow your eyes slightly, willing him to bend.

“The guild only allows outsiders to take jobs at the recommendation of a member,” he says after you slowly move your hand to his knee, still not breaking your gaze on him. You feel Han’s eyes intensify behind you.

“The guild is handing out jobs in 20 minutes three doors south of here. Tell them that Kain Malo sent you, they’ll let you pick from the highest paying gigs,” the man tells you, short of breath because of your touch. You smile at him.

”Kain Malo?” you ask, “Is that your name?” The man smiles and nods, as he takes a sip from his drink. You shift your gaze from his eyes to his mouth and back to his eyes. “It’s the perfect name for a man as handsome as yourself,” you say, hoping to get more out of him. After a moment, you add, “When I get a good gig, I won’t forget your kindness,” sliding your hand up his leg a bit and slowly returning it to his knee. You feel his breath get short and you smile. “I’ll be sure to give you a nice cut as commission.”

“What is your name?” Kain asks, flustered by your advances.

“Nadya,” you smile, giving him a false identity. You extend a hand for him to shake, saying sweetly, “It’s getting late, I should get to the guild meeting.”

“Nadya…” Kain says softly, grabbing your hand and placing it back on his knee, “I’m staying here, at the inn attached to this bar. Room 319. Once you get that job, why don’t you come back and celebrate with me? We could talk about that commission,” Kain trails, his gaze turning seductive. You smile, standing up from the barstool and bringing your hand to rest on his face, softly grazing your thumb over his lips.

“It’ll be a big commission,” you whisper, leaning in so only Kain and your mic can hear. “You know I’m good for it,” you say softly, dragging your hand down his face and to his arm, beginning your walk towards the cantina’s entrance. You turn your head to look at Kain one last time, winking at him before turning to continue walking.

“You two got all of that?” you ask softly over the comm as you walk past the empty booth where Han and Chewie were no longer seated.

“We’re on our way to the guild now,” Han huffs over the comm.

“You’re good at this,” Chewie growls over the comm, his voice cloaked in awe.

“Let’s plan to meet back at the Falcon in an hour or so,” you announce over the comm, turning to find the Navarro Union headquarters. “I need to turn my comm off for a bit, but I will check in when I’m on my way back,” you say.

“Whatever,” says an annoyed Han. You switch your comm off as you walk down the stairs to the Union’s headquarters.

------

You slip through the back of the room of the Union’s headquarters, being careful not to distract from the dealing of missions that have already started. While you couldn’t accept any due to your probation, you wanted to make contacts at this location for future use.

Shit. Your side reminds you of its injury. You are in the most pain you’ve ever felt. After the assignments are over, you’ll go see the Union nurses.

Watching the slides of targets get dealt out among the members, you shudder when the last target is introduced. It’s Kain, the man you just swindled back at the cantina.

“This final target is at the top of the most wanted list for the Union of Navarro. We’ve confirmed he is currently on-planet but do not know much more about his whereabouts or what he plans to do,” the Sister continues. You stand up, requesting to interject.

“Excuse me, Sister. My name is Y/N, I’m a Union member from Tatooine, recently turned interplanetary. My member ID is K-2199.” The Sister nods, allowing you to continue. “I made contact with this target about 10 minutes ago in the cantina down the road. From our conversation, he is under the impression I will be joining him in his inn suite later tonight. I have no intentions of visiting him, as I gave him a false identity and only needed him to tell me the location of the guild meeting,” you say, aware the entire room has turned to your attention. “I cannot accept a mission at this time, but I have his location - room 319 of the inn attached to the cantina. You can use my false identity as an alibi for getting close to him. I told him my name was Nadya.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Damasa, you will lead this mission. We must act quick, form a team with Sister Lor to make a plan,” the Sister says. “That will be all for missions tonight, please stay around if you wish. Y/N, will you come see me?”

You make your way to the front of the room, being greeted by smiling members and choruses of thank yous. When you reach the Sister, she takes your hands.

“Sister Carrie informed the interplanetary council of your updated status as a member. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, and even more thankful for the information you gathered about the target. Is there anything you require while you are on Navarro?” the Sister asks, with genuine appreciation in her face.

“Thank you for such a warm welcome,” you say. “I sustained a bad injury several days ago, and was hoping to meet with a Union nurse if possible.”

“Of course, right this way,” the Sister says, ushering you to the medical corridor.

----

“Well, Y/N, it looks like you have three broken ribs and severe bruising. I’m glad you came in when you did,” the nurse says, giving you a concerned smile. “I think the best course would be a bacta shot.”

You wince. Bacta shots, though the most effective medicine, are also the most intense of remedies. You agree to the nurse’s suggestion, and she prepares the shot.

“I heard about what happened to you on Tatooine,” the nurse says, distracting you as she injects the shot just below your ribs in your abdomen. “I also heard that your injury was nothing compared to what that trooper got,” she smiles, impressed by you.

“He got it much worse, that’s for sure,” you chuckle, as you pull your shirt back down over your ribs.

“Now, this shot has some side effects,” the nurse cautions, as she disposes of the syringe. “It’s going to start affecting you in about thirty minutes. You might feel dizzy, maybe feel a bit of a high. You shouldn’t operate any machinery or drink any alcohol. The best way to endure the side effects is to go to sleep. You understand?”

“Yes,” you agree, this was not the first time you had a bacta shot. The nurse grabs a few supplies and throws them in a bag, handing it to you.

“What is this?” you ask, seeing she had given you four bacta shots, an assortment of bandages, and some other medicines. “I can’t accept this.”

“Of course you can. You are one of this Union’s best fighters. Now, more than ever, you need to be protected,” she says, earnestly. “Is there anything else we can help you with?” “Thank you,” you smile, doubting her compliment is remotely true. The best Union fighters wouldn’t be on probation. “I’d like to purchase something from the armory. I’ve recently joined a crew of smugglers and think it’s time to get something a bit more serious than my staff,” you chuckle.

The nurse leads you to the armory, where you pick out a small hand knife and a belt. You attach the belt just under your chest, with the knife in it’s slot at the center of your back. You cover your new weapon with your shirt and pay the fee to the armory.

You thank the members for their kindness, and start your journey back to the Falcon, hoping you get there before the side-effects of your shot kick in. You check the communicator for any messages you missed from Han or Chewie. There weren’t any, so you go back online to send an update.

“I’m back online. Be back at the ship in five minutes,” you click over the comm. You don’t get a response. You figure the two were still bargaining for a job and you’d beat them back to the Falcon.

------------

“You’re late,” Han huffs, not even looking up at you as you enter the common room. Chewie is seated next to him at the game table, seeming happy to see you.

“What do you mean? I didn’t think we had anywhere to be,” you ask, genuinely confused at Han’s hostility.

“You said we’d meet back here in an hour. You’re late,” Han says, still not meeting your eyes. You check your watch. You’re six minutes past the suggested rendezvous time.

“Six minutes, Solo. I’m six minutes past a loose timeframe I set,” you say, matching his annoyed mood. “Was the lead right?” you ask the two of them, hoping there was some good news.

“Yes, we got the highest paying job. A delivery to Han’s friend,” Chewie growled proudly.

“That’s great,” you respond, genuinely happy you were able to help out your crew.

“Not great,” Han huffs, standing from the table, finally meeting your gaze.

“But, Chewie said it was the highest paying and it’s for a friend? That seems like the perfect job,” you say, furrowing your brows together at Han.

“He’s not my friend,” Han says, pausing for a moment as if to determine who this person was to him. “It’s complicated. But I know he’s going to try to shortchange us. It’s not an easy job.” Han breaks your gaze and paces over to the desk across the room.

“Don’t be so dramatic. We’ve dealt with Lando thousands of times, we can do it again,” Chewie grumbles. “I’m going to bed,” he announces a moment later, giving you a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into his quarters.

You set the bag of supplies the Union gave you down on the game table, looking in Han’s direction trying to get a read on him. He’s sitting in the desk chair with his back to you. His left ankle is resting on his right knee, while his hand holds his chin. He’s clearly thinking about… something. Suddenly, without warning, Han shoots up from the chair and storms to the cockpit. The mechanic squeak of the cockpit door opening and closing echoes through the Falcon.

You roll your eyes, and start to head to your room. You stop before pushing the door open, and turn quickly on your heel. You march after Han and fling the door to the cockpit open. Han jumps in his seat but does not turn to face you.

“Hey!” you yell. “Want to tell me what that was about, Solo?” you ask angrily. You’re not sure why him being a jerk set you off. Maybe it’s because he was rude, maybe it was the bacta shot rushing through your veins, or maybe it was the fact that he didn’t even say thank you for getting him the information he needed.

“I don’t want to talk, Y/N. I’m in a bad mood,” Han huffs, still not facing you. You move to the front of the cockpit in between the pilot chairs to be in his sight.

“Good, I’m going to talk then,” you huff back. “Did I do something to piss you off? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you should be thanking me for getting you the information you needed to get the highest paying job on this planet.”

You’re livid. You don’t even care that he didn’t say thank you. You’re more upset about being subjected to his rollercoaster of emotions - a ride you’d rather not be on. Han’s eyes finally dare to meet yours.

“I told you, I don’t want to talk,” Han says gruffly, shooting up, turning to the side wall of the cockpit to mess with some buttons. You follow him to the side, staying in the center aisle of the cockpit, but still within range of his sight if he dared to look at you again.

“It seems my intelligence gathering skills will be feeding us for the next month,” you shoot at him, wanting to strike a nerve.

You were looking for an answer to what you did wrong. The only way to get that out of him was to push him. Han quickly turned around to face you, a look of bewilderment painted on his face.

“I think you’re giving yourself too much credit,” Han sneers, stepping closer to you. “Your skills,” he mumbles, shaking his head, meeting your eyes once again. “It seems like all it took for that guy to bend is a pretty face willing to sleep with him.” Han huffs, taking another step towards you, allowing only inches between your bodies. “Judging from the fact you turned off your comm for an hour, and, not to mention, the look of satisfaction in your eyes, seems like all it took for you to bend was a little sweet talk.”

It feels like a balloon is swelling in your chest, ready to pop. You are angry - no, upset? - that Han would even think you would be so reckless to sleep with someone while they were off job hunting based on information you gave them. Han stands in front of you, not moving, set in his convictions.

“You’re one to talk!” you yell at him. “Fuck you,” you whisper after a moment, shoving him back as you take a few steps towards the door of the cockpit.

“Tell me I’m wrong, then,” Han taunts, stopping you in your tracks and causing you to turn around. Regaining your voice, you catch his eyes.

“I don’t have to tell you anything, remember?” you hiss, bringing up the only condition that you really cared about.

Han rolls his eyes, his body language tensing more.

“You really think that little of me? That I would be so naive to sleep with a strange man I just met on a planet I’ve never been to before?” you shoot at him.

You shake your head, laughing, at how dumb this fight is. Han looks at you, confused. Your expression turns serious once more.

“You might think you know me, Solo. Like every other man in this entire galaxy, you must think that I’m a flirt, that I’m easy, that I’d sleep with the first guy to call me beautiful,” you pause, watching your words pain him. “I don’t care if that’s what you think of me. I care that you would think I’d turn off my comms for-” you pause for a second, before changing directions. “I need you to know that I’m in this. I’m part of the crew. You and Chewbacca are my priorities. I would never do anything to jeopardize that.”

Han watches you for a second. He starts to open his mouth to say something, but closes it again. You sigh. You’re not sure what you want from him at this point.

“I need you to tell me when I piss you off. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me,” you say, softly. Han says nothing. There’s nothing left to say. You turn on your heel and leave the cockpit, retreating to your room.

----

Han stands in the cockpit, looking at the place where you just told him off. He didn’t know why he was in such a bad mood. You were right, tonight was a success. After a moment of processing, he decides to go after you.

He stops cold at your door. What am I going to say?, he thinks, taking a step back from your room.

“What are you doing?” you ask, faintly. Han turns around to see you sitting on the ground, leaning against the couch.

“What are you doing?” he asks, crouching down next to you, a look of worry across his face. “Why are you on the ground?”

“I couldn’t make it to the couch,” you say, trying to adjust yourself to sit up straighter. The bacta was working, alright. You tried to make it to your bed, but you felt dizzy and needed to sit. The ground seemed like the best place to go. “You didn’t answer my question, Solo.”

Han smiled slightly, though his eyes were still worried.

“I didn’t get to ask- I wanted to know how your side was,” he said, stumbling over his words. He gently starts to untuck your shirt from your pants, careful not to accidentally brush your bruises. You catch his hand before he can lift your shirt.

“Stop,” you say. “I can do it.”

Han moves back slightly, giving you room to move. You unbuckle your new weapons belt from under your shirt, placing it on the couch behind you. Han’s eyebrows raise, curious as to how long you’ve had that.

“It’s new,” you shrug, answering his question.

You use Han’s shoulder to help you stand. Han carefully spots you until he’s sure you can stand by yourself. You turn to face him, lifting your shirt just enough to show the blotchy yellow bruise that shows you’re healing. Han’s eyebrows furrow as he examines your side, noticing the point where the bacta shot was injected, softly brushing his thumb across your side. You reel at the touch; not because it is painful, but because it is dangerous. You quickly lower your shirt, forcing Han’s hand off of your skin.

“A bacta shot?” Han asks quietly, meeting your eyes, realizing his judgement of your satisfied look was from the medicine and not a one night stand.

“Guess you figured out where I was tonight,” you huff, grabbing your weapons belt and starting to walk across the room to your door.

“Y/N…,” Han falters. You feel his gaze on you and your stomach churns.

“It doesn’t matter, Solo,” you say, pausing briefly before entering your room, locking the door behind you.

Falling into your bed for the night, you can still feel his touch on your stomach. You touch the spot a few times, making sure his finger wasn’t still there. The pit in your stomach grows, sending a warmth through your body, aching for Han.

No, you think. This can’t happen.

You try to recall the nasty fight you just had with him, his glares, his arrogance. It all comes to mind in a rose-colored facade. Fuck. Before you know it, the bacta effects overcome you to sleepiness. The medicine distracts you from the allure of one Han Solo, just long enough for you to get a full night’s sleep.

[high-functioning-lokipath]

SH - Sherlock & Mycroft Friendship/Brotherly Bonding - Prompt: Holmes brothers as kids, Myc being a good brother, playing the deduction game. - Words: 1,715

WARNING: MYCROFT IS A BIT NOT GOOD AT THE BEGINNING. THIS IS NOT MYCROFT HATE THO! ALSO, DEVIL CHILDREN WHO DON'T LIKE SHERLOCK MAKE AN APPEARANCE. IT DOES END WELL THOUGH.

That being said, I guess I should add a Trigger Warning for bullying.

I do hope you enjoy the story! Let us know!

"You simply are not trying hard enough, Sherlock! It's quite obvious!" Mycroft yelled. The Holmes brothers were standing in the living room in 221B. Mycroft had decided to pay his brother an in-person visit rather than just turning on the security camera he'd installed. Sherlock had decided to ask Mycroft to play the deduction game with him over a cup of tea. Sherlock was rarely so cordial with Mycroft thus Mycroft was, not that he'd admit it, concerned that something was wrong. He realized he'd miscalculated greatly (again, he'd never admit that) when, only an hour later, a shouting match had ensued.

"Really? Obvious? You're bloody insane, Mycroft! That solution is simply not possible!" Sherlock yelled, dressing gown swishing dramatically as he waved about.

"Look at the facts little brother. We've eliminated the rest. And what do we say about what remains?" Mycroft attempted to bring his voice back down to it's normal, placating, patronizing tones.

"Must be the truth," Sherlock replied, hanging his head low as he finally came to rest on the couch. Mycroft briefly, and rather guiltily, pictured Sherlock as a whipped puppy tucking its tail between its legs. He hadn't intended to hurt his brother so, but the damage was done.

'Nothing worse than past fights,' Mycroft thought. 'He'll recover in a few hours.' He decided not to reconcile at the moment as that could quite easily be taken as caring. 'Sherlock knows I care about him, I just don't want to appear too soft,' Mycroft justified mentally.

"Very good, Sherlock," He said aloud. "I understand you couldn't see it my way today. Perhaps one day you'll be able to think clearly about things." Mycroft turned to walk away. "Perhaps once your brain recovers from your last overdose. Maybe then it will return to acceptable functionality."

'Why did I tack that last jab on?' Mycroft wondered. 'Perhaps I really am becoming too calloused.' He shrugged off the thoughts for the moment as he got in his usual black limousine for the ride home.

Back in 221B, Sherlock sat crying on the sofa for some time. Soft whimpers of "Myc" fell from his lips occasionally. Eventually, he fell asleep, although not a restful one.

"William! Come outside! It's a perfect day to explore!" Sherlock's mind palace had conjured up the memory he was trying so hard to forget. He saw everything so clearly though. Mycroft, still as proper as ever, yet this Mycroft was more free, more innocent. About 14 years old and just under 5' 7", Mycroft had already adopted most of the personality that would stick with him for the rest of his life. Sherlock was seeing his memory as though it was a movie he could walk through. He didn't see it from his 7 year old point of view. Rather, he watched on the sidelines. He looked around and found himself in the backyard of their childhood home. Mycroft was examining a particularly bright patch of flowers by the corner of the house. Some of them had been crushed, others torn up.

'The old tabby cat,' Sherlock remembered fondly. 'Mrs. O'Malley did always let that cat wander too much.'

"I'm coming, Mycie!" Sherlock heard behind him. Turning about he saw himself, right at 4' tall, running out of the house to join his brother.

"Tell me, William," Mycroft said. "How do you think these flowers were destroyed?"

"The old tabby cat, Mycie! That's easy! Find me something harder!" His 7 year old self exclaimed. Mycroft smiled approvingly and patted little Sherlock's shoulder.

'I can't seem to recall why he ever stopped calling me William,' Sherlock thought. Shaking his head in his dream, he chuckled silently. He knew he would remember, but his mind was attempting to fool him.

"Timothy Lexington," Mycroft called out, tossing a frisbee to young Sherlock. He caught it absently, brows drawn together in thought.

"Blond and blue, 19, 5' 9", science class, held back a year," Sherlock replied, throwing the disk back with a smug grin.

'The original deduction game!' Sherlock thought with an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. Sitting on the grass, he settled in to watch.

Mycroft had gotten into the habit of having Sherlock deduce his classmates to the nth degree.

"Why was he held back?" Mycroft quizzed, returning the frisbee.

"Cheating," Sherlock replied, about to throw it back. "Wait," he paused. "Cheating and skipping class." With every throw, Mycroft would ask a question or name a person, and with every catch, Sherlock would answer.

"Samantha Hanshaw."

"Red and green, 17, 5' 5", fairly intelligent. Moved ahead 2 levels over the summer." Mycroft was just about to catch the returning disc when Sherlock added, "And she has a crush on you. She likes your intellect." Mycroft completely froze. The frisbee hit him squarely on the forehead, snapping him out of his trance. "Mycroft! Are you ok?" Sherlock yelled, all deductions forgotten.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mycroft assured him. "Let's go up front." The two Holmes children ran around to the front yard and Sherlock hurried to catch up. As he was about the round the corner, he noticed a group of boys, about his younger self's age, bicycling down the road.

'Oh,' Sherlock remembered. 'This was it.'

"William! Want to come and play with us?" One boy yelled, coming to a stop in front of the house.

"Can I, Myc? Please?" The younger Holmes asked. Sherlock could see the love and care in Mycroft's eyes. But also the sadness.

"They're no good for you, Will," He whispered, kneeling down to his brother's level. The younger's face dropped, tears welling up in his eyes. Mycroft hesitated briefly, hoping with all his heart he was making the right decision and that his initial readings of those boys were false, and added, "But if you want so badly, I suppose an hour or so wouldn't hurt." Sherlock lit up and hugged his brother around the neck.

"Thanks, Mycie! I'll be good! I'll be back in 1 hour!" Sherlock then ran across their large front yard to the road to meet up with the other boys. Mycroft began to walk into the house when he heard yelling.

"Where's your bodyguard now, William? Think you can just use your brain to get out of this, William?" Mycroft's heart sank. Those scumbags were holding Sherlock down on the pavement, kicking him. "Freak! Weirdo!"

"Leave him alone!" Mycroft bellowed. Sherlock had been struggling, trying to get away from them, but there had simply been too many. The bullies quickly scattered, grabbing their bikes and running off. Mycroft pulled Sherlock onto the grass immediately.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock whimpered.

"No, no, William. You don't have to be-"

"Don't call me that!" He yelled. "Never again! If I'm to be a freak, I'll be named as such. Never call me by that name again. Call me Sherlock from now on." Sherlock's face had turned adamant, a preview of his future personality.

"But-"

"Please?" Sherlock begged, face softening once again. Mycroft silently nodded and pulled Sherlock in for a hug.

"Come on inside. Let's get you washed up and have some cake together, hm? Sounds good, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, the name feeling strange on his tongue. He certainly did not think the name sounded freakish, nor was his brother a freak, but he would, at least for now, make his brother happy.

"Yes, please."

"And Sherlock?" Mycroft continued, pausing his steps. "I'll always love you and I'll always take care of you. I will never hurt you. Never forget that."

Sherlock woke up with a start, gasping and still sobbing a little. His face was sticky with half-dry tears.

"I will never hurt you." Those words echoed in Sherlock's mind. It seemed that these days all Mycroft had done was hurt Sherlock.

'Not that it was really his fault,' Sherlock thought. 'I'm really the cause of it all. Maybe if I could find a triple homicide I could finally make him proud.' Sherlock shook his head. He'd already solved those types of cases. He really didn't know what to do to make his brother happy. Turning over on the sofa, he looked to the abandoned mugs on the coffee table. No doubt, the contents were far past cold so Sherlock got up and took them to the sink. Hearing the door lock click, he readied himself for an intruder since no one else he knew should be coming in at this time of day.

"Sherlock?" He heard a voice call out.

'Mycroft?' Sherlock wondered. 'Why is he here?' Slowly, Sherlock walked out of the kitchen.

"What do you want?" He spat, unintentionally angry.

"I wanted to apologise. I'm sorry," Mycroft said, absolute sincerity showing on his face. Sherlock was surprised beyond words. Mycroft quickly took in his brother's appearance and realized he was responsible for it. Mycroft sighed lightly before continuing, "Lately all we've done is fight. That's not right for brothers. Even arch-nemesis brothers," He said with a smirk. Even Sherlock chuckled at that. Turning serious once again, Mycroft continued, "Please believe me when I say I'm sorry. I-" He paused for a moment, deciding he may not have another chance like this for a while. "I'll always love you, little brother, and I'll always take care of you. I will never intentionally hurt you. Never forget that. I may be harsh sometimes and say things I don't mean when I'm especially frustrated but I'll try to say 'I'm sorry' a bit more."

"I love you too, Mycie," Sherlock replied, hugging his brother tightly. Mycroft smiled fondly at the man who, at the moment, was burying his face in Mycroft's suit jacket. Mycroft hugged Sherlock back.

"I'll always care, William," His brother's name finally felt right again after all these years. "You're never a disadvantage."

"Neither are you, Myc," Sherlock replied with a smile. "But you know you're not allowed to call me that around anyone else. Not even Mummy and Daddy." Mycroft nodded. "Good. Now why don't we stop this emotional madness and finish what we started," Sherlock commanded. To the average person, it would seem Sherlock had gone back to normal. But Mycroft saw the glint in his eyes. "Chocolate cake with whipped icing?" Sherlock offered.

"Of course," Mycroft smiled, taking the plate and sitting again in the living room. "Cluedo?"

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

[sapphire374]

Soy Sol: Chapter 8 (Long Story Short, It was a Tough Day)

Wattpad Link

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.9 / Ch.10 / Ch.11 / Ch.12 / Ch.13 / Ch.14 / Ch.15 / Ch.16 / Ch.17

Simón approaches the doors of the Jam and Roller. He pulls out a set of keys from his pocket and selectively picks the one with the J&R emblem engraved on it. He’s surprised when he grabs the doorknob and is able to open it without unlocking it himself. He walks in cautiously. “Is anyone here?” No one answers. Everything seems to be intact. He wonders maybe Pedro forgot to lock up last night?

He keeps walking around and gets a little startled noticing a person sitting in front of the main desk in the office. He shakes his head and rubs his tired eyes. Sitting there is Ámbar, crying in her arms.

“Linda que paso? What happened?” He worriedly rushes by her side. “It’s official, no one’s buying this place. No one wants it. Vidia is planning to tear it down and sell the land on its own.” More tears begin to cover her face. This place grew to be extremely close to Ámbar’s heart. After everything that happened with Sharon, the only constant in her life was the Jam and Roller. Being able to skate help relieve her from her anxieties and at least have one moment to be alone with the world. When she got offered the position to be manager, she couldn’t be more thrilled. Putting her heart and soul into setting up events for the gang and making sure everything was in place helped her feel more in control with her life. She was able to calm down the mess that surrounded her and pick up the pieces one by one. Hearing the official news coming from their lawyers was earth shattering for her, it was too surreal.

Simón didn’t know what to do in this moment. He ‘can’ say things will get better, but he doesn’t want to give her false hope, doesn’t want to sugarcoat it. He feels that saying an advice in this instant would only make things worse so he does what he knows best, he hugs her. A quiet display of showing you’re there for that person, always.

When they hear Pedro enter the cafeteria with Delfi, Ámbar and Simón get up from their chairs and go back to work. Ámbar wipes away all the tears with her sleeve and tries to put more makeup to cover her puffy skin.

After two hours pass by, Luna enters with Nina. “Wow Luna I can’t believe he stood you up,” Nina replies. Simón overhears Nina’s comment and hurries over to Luna’s side. “Is this true? Matteo stood you up?” Luna starts trembling and tries to find the right words to say but nothing comes out of her mouth. “I-I- …... okay how do I explain this. Yes, he left me alone all night till the restaurant closed. When I was sitting on the bench in front waiting for my taxi, he arrived. He tried to explain to me that he lost track of time because Viviana was bothering him on filming more scenes for their music video. Basically, it’s all mess. This whole relationship has turned into a mess. He lied to me by not telling me he was going to be with Viviana. If he had told me, it would’ve been okay, but he didn’t, which is why I’m upset. If you lie to someone about being with another person that means you don’t want them to know, which most of the time indicates you’re hiding a secret.” Luna sighs from her mouthful of words.

“Luna, I don’t want to make it sound worse but you’re right. If he lied to you about being with Viviana, there’s a chance he’s hiding something. There’s no necessity to lie about filming with a coworker…. Unless he has feelings for that coworker. Sorry you have to go through all of this.” Simón hugs Luna and tries to console her. “Amiga, remember these are all assumptions we’re making. We don’t know the full truth so maybe he was keeping everything a secret for a reason. We are still missing parts of the story,” Nina advised. “I don’t think so Nina. I think I should just start moving on and start focusing more on me and you guys of course. Oh, that reminds me. How are those wedding plans going Simón?” Simon widely opens his eyes in shock and covers his mouth with his hand. “No no no nooooooo”

“Que paso Simón? Why are you so upset suddenly?” Luna asked.

“Ámbar and I have been so caught up with issues pertaining to the Jam and Roller that we completely forgot to prepare the wedding and plan everything out.”

Luna lays her hand on Simon’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore because I can help with whatever you guys need.” “Yeah, me too,” Nina tags along.

“Also, what issues do you guys mean when ‘pertaining to the Jam and Roller?’” Luna questions.

“You’ll find out soon, and by soon I mean around…. now.” Simón states while staring at the clock.

Ámbar leaves the office carrying a clipboard and heads to the stage of the cafeteria. “May I get everyone’s attention! I have some disappointing news to say. For a while, Simon and I have constantly tried to negotiate with Vidia, in hopes that this beautiful place stays as it should. Sadly, our wishes were not met and Vidia has officially announced that it will be tearing this place down and selling the land. Sorry to be the bearer of this awful news, I wish I didn’t have to. I wish that the Jam and Roller can stay for generations and generations on. This place has been the spot where many of us have shared experiences together and won a few competitions. It deserves to stay here, but the owners disagree.”

Everyone gasps in astonishment. Some covering their mouths, some leaving it open, some having visible tears coming out. Everyone reacts as if the place was already completely gone and become a deserted land. Eric (Jandino) enters the place. “Hey guys what did I miss?” Everyone’s red puffy faces glance towards him. “Oof tough crowd huh?” Nina is the first to respond and make the situation a little less awkward. “The Jam and Roller is going to be teared down.” Eric stays speechless and just nods in response.

“This can’t be the end of this place. Are we really going to give up so quickly? Vidia tried to sell it and we were able to convince them not to. This time could be the same,” Luna exclaims.

“This time is different though because the investors don’t need this place anymore and no one wants to buy a skating rink since it’s ‘old fashion’ and ‘not modern.’ This place was in the market for months. Simón and I hoped someone would buy it but no one did. The only way for us to even have a chance to keep it is if someone purchased this place,” Ámbar refuted.

“That shouldn’t be so bad. All we have to do is find someone who is rich and has a kind heart,” Luna proudly states. “Luna are you insane? Where we are we going to find a kind, rich person? This isn’t a cartoon where stuff magically appears out of nowhere to help and save us. Yeah, that’s right Mickey, I’m talking about you and your “musketeer named Toodles,” we all know that’s fake.” Jazmin argued in front of her tablet camera.

“You are right... well on the first part. But I have an idea, maybe I can afford it!” Luna confidently states.

Ámbar gently brings Luna’s hopes down again. “I’ve already checked how much I have in the bank from the half you gave and doubled that and it’s still not enough for the place Luna.” Luna pouts, facing the ground. “Oh... well I guess never mind then.”

Delfi comes up with an idea. “Hey what about Matteo? He is rich now from being a star and all.” She then points to the man in sunglasses who had been staring at Luna ever since he arrived. Luna didn’t realize it till now. “If that’s what you guys want, I’ll buy it. How much does it cost?” Ámbar walks to Matteo. “I’m showing you in secret, so you don’t get embarrassed with your net worth not being enough,” Ámbar explained. “Oh please, it can’t be that bad.” Ámbar show’s him the clipboard and points to the bottom. Matteo begins to sweat. “Oh…... um guys I can afford it but then I’ll be broke with no where to live.”

“Great! I guess that means the Jam and Roller is saved then! Yay!” Jazmin yells out. “Jazmin we can’t force Matteo to do such a grand gesture either,” Gaston responds. “And why not?”

“Jazmin are you really asking that question after he said he would be broke?” Gaston added. “Yes, I don’t see the problem.” Gaston shakes his head and covers his eyes with his fingers from annoyance.

“You guys, it’s hopeless,” Ámbar announces and walks away, heading straight to her office.

Nina walks over to Luna’s side. “Why aren’t you so sad Luna? I mean of course I wouldn’t want you to be sad, but I thought the news would be devastating for you since you love this place so much.”

“This place isn’t getting teared down. At least not under my watch. I will find a way to keep this place the way it is. I will just need to do some research,” Luna persists. “Luna you never seize to surprise me. Whatever help you need, I’m right here,” Nina chuckles.

Eric approaches Nina and tries to comfort her. “Yeah, I bet this must be awful news for you guys. I know I wasn’t here long enough but one thing I know for sure is that this place is certainly magical.” Gaston views Eric close with Nina and he immediately rushes over. He places his arm around Nina’s waist. “Your Corazon will really stop going wowow if you keep flirting with my girl!” “Gaston!” Nina is shocked and tries to calm him down from his jealousy burning his own skin.

“Guys I think I’m going to head home. It’s been a rough morning and I barely got any sleep,” Luna waved goodbye to the gang. Gastón gestures over to Matteo letting him know Luna is leaving. Matteo runs over to the parking lot.

“Luna wait, can you give me a second to explain everything.” Matteo calls out to her. “Matteo, you’re the person I least want to talk to right now.”

“Luna I’m sorry. I’m sorry for arriving extremely late and standing you up. I’m sorry for not replying to all your calls and messages. I’m sorry I lied about the video with Viviana. I didn’t tell you though because I was worried you would get upset and think I remotely like the girl,” Matteo confesses.

“Hah so you’ve even noticed that she’s been extremely close and has been flirting with you,” Luna attested.

“What no? It’s not like that at all. You’re just jealous.” Luna turns around and displays a furious expression, this is the moment when Matteo noticed he had chosen the wrong set of words. “Jealous? That’s what you think of me? Maybe you’re just too blinded by fame to realize she’s constantly glued to you. Haven’t you noticed that when she talks to you, she gradually grows closer and closer to you and whenever you two go out she tries to hold your arm and pull you in tight. I’ve seen all the paparazzi videos so I know. Plus, she’s always calling you. She calls you more than your own manager does,” Luna argued.

“Oh please Luna, you’re just being delusional.” Matteo hears his phone ringing. He pulls it out and notices it’s Viviana calling him. “Yet I’m the delusional one, you have just become so full of yourself you can barely even notice what’s actually going on,” Luna walks away. “Wait, Luna please don’t go.” This time she doesn’t listen to him and keeps walking away without a slight turn of her head.

Luna’s Home

Luna enters her room and throws herself in bed. It’s barely Sunday and Luna feels a whole tornado of emotions have taken over her body. She doesn’t feel like doing anything, not even taking off her socks from wearing her shoes or wiping off her light makeup. She grabs her blanket and tries to fall asleep on top of her bed.

After an hour has passed, her mom knocks on her door and gently opens it. She sees her daughter sleeping and tries to lightly pat her. Luna’s eyelashes wiggle and brush against her skin. She slowly wakes up. “I brought you some breakfast, just thought maybe you haven’t eaten and were probably hungry.” Luna happily smiles. “Mom you know me too.” Monica smiles back too and hands her a tray of waffles with strawberries. Ah strawberries. The least she needed was to be reminded of “el chico fresa.” Her smile slowly disappears and turns into a frown.

“Hija, lately I’ve been seeing you all down in the dumps. Always depressed and never wanting to do much other than sleep. Are you okay? This isn’t normally like you,” Monica sincerely concerned, looks at Luna in the eyes.

“Everything just seems to be falling apart. Not just dealing with Matteo and I’s relationship ending but also the Jam and Roller too. Apparently Vidia is planning to tear it down and the only way for us to be able to have the chance to keep the Jam and Roller intact is to purchase it but none of us can afford such a high price.”

Monica nods and tries to conjure up an idea. Eventually one crosses her mind. “Luna, I’m shocked you didn’t think of this earlier, especially since it deals with your favorite hobby in ‘el mundo mundial,’” Monica says.

“What does skating have to do with this?” Luna laughs.

“Competitions. I know there’s some competitions out there in which the grand prize is a sum of money. Why don’t you guys enter one and try to compete.” Luna lets go of her fork and soon becomes energetic. “Mom that is genius!! Thank you thank you thank you!!!” Luna yells out and tightly hugs her mom.

“Well you know what they say, us moms are geniuses,” Monica chuckles. Luna hastily grabs her computer and retrieves to her bed. She opens up the laptop and begins typing and searching through. “Well Luna I guess I shall leave you to it. Glad I was able to help. Love you hija.” Monica kisses Luna’s forehead and leaves. “Love you too mom!”

After searching for hours, Luna is able to find a competition in which the grand prize pays most of the Jam and Roller price tag. When calculating the percentages, Luna notices that what’s left to pay after all the costs are taken up, is affordable for the whole gang. She jumps up and down all around her bedroom with content pouring out of her. The Jam and Roller finally has a chance to stay. Maybe things can even go back to old times when they all skated together.

[setsuntamew]

So, Persona 5 Royal, huh?

Full disclosure: I had gotten about halfway through November on Wednesday and finished it out Saturday night, which took uhhh about 65-70 hours? Some of that was sitting there waiting for the PS4 controller to recharge or listening to music in the Thieves Den while eating, but I still feel like I need to own up to how extremely bad I am at making good decisions with my life XD

MOVING ON, THOUGH, HOLY SHIT. P5 was a very good game, but Royal’s additions & changes made it incredible. I like the ending way more; I think it’s more emotionally fulfilling and meaningful, especially with everyone’s more defined future plans. Definitely felt like everyone had more growth in the end!! Which is something I’d always thought P5 was lacking.

Snip snip for spoilers and the fact that this post ended up being too damn long, oops! the last third is basically Akechi feels and analyzing his ending, so......yeah XD

Part of why I plowed through SO much of Royal in so little time is....Akechi XD Like okay, this is my stupid fandom blog, I can be excited about him all I want!!! I got to Sae’s Palace and just....I couldn’t put it down. @dragonofeternal​ and I ordered an embarrassing amount of takeout instead of cooking because we just had to see how everything with Maruki and the third semester was gonna go down. I’d already been dying along the way because Akechi’s confidant dates are so good, I just. Fuck!!!

Also, look, for the entirity of Shido’s boss fight and the depths of Mementos/Yaldabaoth/etc, we’d look at each other every few minutes and just be like AKECHI SHOULD BE HERE WITH US, HE DESERVES TO GET HIS VENGEANCE ON HIS SHITTY DAD AND FORCED DESTINY!!!!!

December 24th had to be the longest god damn day in Akira’s life because like. Final exam grades are posted in the morning! He goes to school and then dives into hell, crawls his way back out, briefly dies by fading from human cognition, fights an actual fucking god, and then....ends up dissociating in Shibuya until Sae shows up and is like “oh hey thanks for everything you did, please sign up for being arrested now.” And while he’s still reeling from that, Akechi walks up to take his place, like some kind of bullshit knight in shining armor schtick, and leaves no room for conversation.

AND THEN WE HAVE TO GO ON A DATE

I romanced Hifumi this time around, because I wanted Akria to bang a girl who is just so incredibly out of his league, but....it’s not necessarily that I forgot I was dating someone, more that it had been *so many hours of plot* that I was emotionally exhausted. Like, Hifumi texted me and I was just like. Right. RIGHT. It’s still Christmas Eve, somehow. I was at *school* this morning. The whole world merged with Mementos briefly in the middle of this, Akechi is somehow alive, and I guess I’m going on a date now????

I do appreciate how many “god I’m just dissociating my way through this” conversation options there were for the date, tbh. I feel bad though, I really like Hifumi, but I feel like Akira is not giving a date his full emotional attention at that specific time. It feels a bit like emotional whiplash, more so than I remember it being in P5? Maybe it’s because I played it 4 years ago and there wasn’t the added emotional weight of Akechi’s reappearance, but it was just like....a lot, in Royal.

AND THEN THE NEW YEAR HAPPENED. I’d been spoiled on large parts of the third semester, mostly because Royal’s been out for a year already and I’m too curious for my own good. I’d also somehow lied to myself, saying I didn’t have time to play another Persona game right now, and yet here I am, 171 hours of game play within exactly a month, kicking myself for not knowing how deep in Persona hell I would get XD

Which is to say, as soon as the new year started, it felt I was drowning in anxiety. I knew something was wrong, I knew they were in a false reality, but knowing that sure as fuck didn’t make it easier to go through. If anything, it was somehow worse, knowing that it was all gonna come crumbling down, but I didn’t yet know the exact details, only the broad strokes of it. Just. Every time someone talked about something that was wrong, my heart would clench.

God, I’m so fucking tired, I pulled an all-nighter on Friday so I could get through Royal before having to work on Sunday, and I am feeling it right now. Life tips: don’t do what I do XD

Every moment with Akechi felt like borrowed time, at least for me, because I knew what was coming. I spent so much time in Mementos with him; I ended up putting just him and Akira in my party and plowing through everything, including trouncing the Reaper over and over just for the hell of it. I got his ultimate weapons, I spent so many nights in the jazz club with him that he ran out of dialogue options, and I still took him back for more. I accidentally failed to EVER trigger Sumire’s Showtime because every fight was just Akira and Akechi against the world, because fuck it, I’m playing this for fun!! If I want to play with them in stupid costumes and no one else in the party, I’m gonna. Royal did such an incredible job giving Akechi more depth and development: it was all I could hope for, and it made it that much fucking worse to know what was in store for him.

Somehow, I thought it would be harder for me to make the decision to refuse Maruki’s deal, since fuck, fuck what I wouldn’t give for Akechi to be alive???? But I barely hesitated, only really stopping because I had to emotionally brace myself for it, because a reality where he can’t carve out his own fate would be a disrespect to everything their relationship is built on.

I have a whole shit ton of feelings about post-beating Maruki but they’re basically all Akechi related meta so somehow they ended up at the end of this post, I’m sorry XD

I understand that they had to keep the going to jail bit because 1) Akechi didn’t turn himself in, Akira did and 2) it leads to the final events of the game, but let me just say....the emotional roller coaster of fighting Maruki, almost failing multiple times, waking up in jail, the Phantom Thieves & friends getting Akira out of jail, celebrating that, and then getting thrown into Valentines Day was a LOT for my heart to take. Once again, didn’t forget I had a girlfriend, just got too invested in the plot to really be thinking about her. It’s less than two weeks after the fight with Maruki and somehow, everything is supposed to be okay????

The scene with everyone talking about their future plans is such good character growth, though. Everyone feels like they’ve truly grown and are making decisions that, even though they might be painful or hard at times, are ultimately very important to them. It’s a really good contrast to the “almost everyone goes to Shujin and they all stay in Tokyo forever without doing anything for themselves” Maruki’s perfect reality bad end.

Standing in the Underground Mall on White Day, being told I had to get flowers but finally being able to have control of Akira again was....so bittersweet. The fact that the location of the date is the aquarium is a low fucking blow, and I almost threw the controller across the room I was so upset. Like. THE AQUARIUM IS UNLOCKED BECAUSE AKECHI HAS TICKETS HOW FUCKING DARE SOJIRO SUGGEST IT LIKE MY HEART ISN’T STILL ACHING????? God, speaking of that: The fucking god damn Featherman video game tore my heart out because I ended up playing it WHILE WORKING ON SHIDO’S PALACE and I cried a ton about Gray Pigeon because of course they had to dig the emotional knife in even deeper!! Just fuck me up, it’s fine, I’m just dying!!!!!!!!!!!!

I ended up scrolling through his texts to find the group chats that still had Akechi in them, and fuck, it was a LOT. Like. Maybe it’s because I’m too invested in the two of them, but it was probably the worst emotional whiplash of the whole game. Like, how am I supposed to go play happy with anyone while staring at texts from a reality built of lies? It wasn’t real but the proof lives on in his phone and his heart, and I’m still fucked up over it.

HOWEVER. FUCKING. I SPENT LIKE HALF AN HOUR BEING EMOTIONALLY COMPROMISED ABOUT ALL THIS AND THEN DISCOVERED THE BASTARD STILL HAD ALL HIS EQUIPMENT, INCLUDING THE ULTIMATE MALE ARMOR!!! He returned his shit after Sae’s Palace even though he thought Akira was dead, but this time it didn’t get fucking returned to my inventory, so he must have fucking run off with all his shit!!!!!!! Why the hell did none of it get returned if he was never alive in the true reality? Like I know it'll be returned for a new game+ but I like to nitpick game mechanics for story reasons, because one of the things I love most about video games is the experience of them as another layer to the story. The texts from the third semester shouldn’t exist anymore, since they never really existed, but there they are. Akechi insisted that he has a gap in his memory after Shido’s Palace up until seeing Akira on Christmas Eve, but who can say that wasn’t related to Maruki tampering with reality or some other Persona-related reason?

I mean. I got the full and complete True Ending; I saw him in the train station. If that’s not Akechi, then who the fuck is it? Atlus made sure to put the work in to make him a part of not just the main story but also, especially, the third semester, and for what....to have his final time on screen be as the butt of the joke, squished underneath everyone in the Mona-copter? As much as it hurts, his end in Shido’s Palace matters; it fits his character and he gets to go out fighting- carving his own path, really. In Royal, barring the tiny glimpse of someone who’s probably him in the train station, the last we see of him is when he watches Joker let go of the rope to finish off Maruki. I know we got the heart to heart where Akira agrees to reject Maruki’s deal and Akechi insists that he’d rather be dead than live in a false reality, but.....no one even says goodbye to him. It’s tragic, it’s painfully lonely, but it doesn’t feel right for such a major character.

Also, as undignified as it is, for the first time ever, Akechi looks like he actually belongs in the Phantom Thieves in that final moment. He’s never been the butt of their jokes before; they always kept him at arms’ reach and he took himself too seriously to be included, but for that brief moment, it really felt like he was part of their group. He stopped lying about himself for their last month together, and so even if they don’t all like him, they can make that decision based on the truth, instead of layers of lies. His death is all the more tragic for this; a life cut short just when he’s finally finding a place he belongs. But his death was already painful; why make it so, so much worse?

Final thing: I’m gonna be spending a ton of time in the Thieves Den trying to find Akechi’s opinions on everything, but also....hey. HEY. What do those six stars that Jose (probably?) painted on the wall mean? Is it just a reference to Persona 6???? LIKE????? I HAVE QUESTIONS. SO, SO MANY QUESTIONS!!!!

Anyway, I’ve gotta go cry into my Starbucks and desperately try to focus on actually doing my job at work, but I loved Royal deeply and cannot wait to drown in it ;w;

[degenerate-otaku]

Another one shot of Future Gohan and Trunks for yall

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13896221/1/Before-the-Rain

(Links in case you prefer)

In the times that had followed the androids' destruction, younger generations were highly protected, as they were the earth's only hope. The government set up an initiative to get more children out of dangerous cities that housed gangs and violence.

Children and any family they had would move to countryside camps, wherein they would receive food, safety and education in return for doing manual labour such as farming and sewing, as well as taking care of the sick.

Trunks somewhat hated this, as it meant that many children in West City, including his own friends often moved away when things got too difficult, leaving him isolated, in terms of having friends his own age.

Sure, sometimes he'd visit, taking the underground railway system, or by hopping on the nimbus, or even flying when he had learnt to do so, but it felt like an arduous task.

However, when Gohan decided to volunteer as a teacher, Trunks thought it would be a good idea to attend full time, as the pair could go together. Trunks was surprised when the day before Gohan revealed he was rather nervous about it.

“C'mon, you're an amazing teacher to me, so I'm sure you'll be able to teach more kids!” Trunks reassured him, snuggling into bed. He always loved when Gohan would stay over at his house, it was so comforting to know he was right there beside him.

“Yeah...but that's you...and I've known you since you were born...and there's a lot of kids!” Gohan hung up his smart looking outfit, which Trunks remarked as being nerdy, on a hanger, before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Trust me, they aren't as annoying as me. You'll be fine...Good night.” Trunks smiled at him before switching off his light and pretending to be asleep before Gohan could worry further.

Gohan sighed and tucked the boy in a little more before heading to sleep himself.

The next day, the pair flew to the makeshift school building, and landed away from sight before coming in together.

To keep Gohan distracted from his nerves, which Trunks viewed as highly irrational, considering Gohan was also "The Golden Warrior", he inquired,

“Doesn't your mom cook for the kids here a lot? My friends said that a lady called Miss Son is the most amazing lunch lady ever.”

“Huh? Oh...yeah,” Gohan laughed, lifting his head from the book held in his hands.

“I mean...she's used to cooking in massive quantities for me and for when my dad was around...it's a chance for her to share her...motherly-ness.” He smiled, then stopped at the door, listening to the sound of children chattering inside.

“You can do this!” Trunks grinned, taking his bag off his shoulder as he stepped in, Gohan following, the class immediately silenced, intrigued by the smart young man, that was clearly strong looking, his muscles bulging even in his clothes.

“Uh...Good morning class!” He began, picking up a pen and writing his name on the board.

“My name is Mr Son...and I will be your new teacher!” He smiled politely, awaiting a response.

“Oh my god, are you married to the lunch lady?!” A girl exclaimed.

Gohan frantically shook his head, “N-no, she's my mom!” His face had gone red as the class giggled, but he soon regained composure, laughing it off.

“Gosh, she cooks like that for you all the time?!” Another kid chimed in and he scratched the back of his head,

“Yeah...I guess so! I just hope she doesn't come in and embarrass me!” He answered.

Trunks gazed up at him from where he was sitting. He was glad to see his best friend adapting so well to his new job.

“Alright! Our first task is going to be a written task, which I'll get you to read aloud at the end.” He instructed them, handing out some paper, taking a look at every one of his new students.

“I want you all to write about what you did during your summer. Which programs did you volunteer in? Did you visit anywhere?”

He returned to his position at the front and passionately spoke, “I really wanna know about you guys! Oh...maybe I should take the register to learn your names...tell me if I mispronounce any!”

Gohan sat down, getting out the list of names and calling them out, one by one, receiving a pleasant "Good morning, Mr Son“ each time. It was strange to hear Trunks call him that, and by the sound of it, the title was strange for the boy to speak aloud too. The two just had to pretend as if they didn't know each other, Gohan made it a priority not to show favouritism towards him, but he knew it would be difficult.

He loved that boy unconditionally.

”Sir, how long do we have?“ A girl named Cherri, who he knew to be Trunks' friend that used to live not far from Capsule Corp, asked.

”Oh...right, I forgot to tell you that! Uh...you have until half past.“ He answered, before scribbling down more lesson ideas in his book.

The truth was that he had no clue about what he was doing. He was planning his lessons as he went along.

The time passed quickly, and Gohan decided to pick out random students to read out what they had wrote. A few passed, and he made some notes about them in his book.

”Alright, last but not least is Trunks.“ Gohan called out to him, snapping the boy out of a daydream.

”Oh, ok...“ He reluctantly stood and read from the paper, ”Last summer, I mostly stayed at home, played video games and studied. I went to the beach with my mom a few times....uhh I watched TV and...uh yeah.“ He sat back down.

”...that's it? That's all you wrote?“ Gohan glared at his student, hoping he had a good response.

”Yeah.“ Trunks replied, thinking nothing of it.

”Trunks, you had half an hour and you wrote 3 sentences.“ Gohan sounded stern and the class silently watched.

”Well, you already know what I did last summer, Gohan-“ Trunks gasped and the class was confused.

”Wait, is he your brother?“ The boy next to Trunks, who was also his good friend asked and the whole class started chatting.

Gohan cleared his throat and sighed,

”Yes...well...I am very close to Trunks, our families are too...but this does not mean I favour him over any of you.“ He calmed the situation, then spoke directly to Trunks,

”I need you to show the same level of respect to me as everyone else in here, too, ok? It is the morning of the first day, so I will let this slide, but please give more effort.“

Trunks nodded, but rolled his eyes, slumping back in his chair, when Gohan turned to the whiteboard and wrote down the title of the next lesson, before collecting in the students' essays and handing out exercise books.

The next lesson would be a boring maths lesson, which Trunks sat through. He was ahead of his peers in scientific and mathematical subjects, thanks to his master's teaching, so sitting through a recap of something he found so simple was like watching paint dry.

Whenever Trunks raised his hand, he felt like Gohan always asked someone else. He didn't like being ignored.

He knew the answers to everything, it was incredibly annoying to hear someone who clearly didn't know something harder than expanding brackets in algebra, try to solve the equation on the board that Trunks could do in his head.

Gohan was encouraging and made sure the students felt no shame in making mistakes.

”Alright, Cherri, so now you need to get the unknowns on one side of the equation.“ Gohan advised her, writing on the board the step she just explained with his help.

The girl stammered, her face going a little red from the attention.

”The answer is 4!“ Trunks, finally fed up, called out the answer.

”Well, yes, that is correct, but I wasn't asking you, I was asking Cherri.“ Gohan put down his pen and his serious tone returned.

”She obviously didn't know!“ Trunks folded his arms, determined to not apologise for doing what he thought was right.

”It's rude to interrupt, regardless.“ Gohan told him, before moving on.

Finally, it was time for break and when Trunks decided he was going to talk to Gohan, he was surprised to find girls in his class talking to him instead, asking him tons of questions.

”So, you work out?“ One asked, taking a look at his arms.

”Of course he does, just look at him!“ Her friend cut in and Gohan blushed and nodded, explaining his reasons, which Trunks knew to be false.

”Oh, hey, Trunks!“ Gohan spotted him and took his opportunity to get out of that conversation.

”I wanted to have a chat about before.“ He approached his pupil, who was causing him some concern.

”Oh...same.“ Trunks fiddled with the sleeves of his jumper, something he always did when he was nervous, which Gohan took notice of.

”Why did you feel like you could do that?“ Gohan's voice was calm; it always made Trunks feel more at ease.

”I dunno...it just felt like...you were ignoring me. I just got a bit fed up...because I already knew the stuff and you weren't asking me.“ The teen shrugged his shoulders, not meeting his eye.

”Trunks,“ Gohan placed his hand on his shoulder, making the boy glance up at him.

”I just want to know what the others know. I know you're able to do this, but most of them aren't.“

Gohan did make sense, but Trunks was stubborn. His mother said it was a trait of his father, though she was stubborn too.

”I spend a lot of time with you...and I love spending time with you...but it's not fair to give you all my focus...

You know I really love you, right?“

That was enough to make Trunks smile.

”I know...thanks, Gohan...I mean Mr Son.“ Trunks giggled before running off.

Gohan watched as the other kids played together gleefully. It was heartwarming to see them be actual kids and enjoy their disrupted youth. It only made him more determined to fight for their safety and teach them well.

'I might be an even better teacher than you, Mr Piccolo...'

He smirked, hoping Piccolo could hear him somewhere, feeling proud of him.

[writings-of-a-daphodil]

Fire Keeper: Chapter 4

Douxie x fem reader

Chapter 1

Masterlist in bio!

Series Summary: You are Jim’s older sister who is taking a break from college and has moved back home to Arcadia. You end up joining Jim and his friends on their adventures. Chapter 4 Summary: Road Trip!! It's Jim's Birthday and you offer to take care of all the Trollhunting errands.

“I have to admit, I’m worried that this won’t workout,” you said to Blinky as he put up the last balloon.

“Why do you doubt Master Jim will like his surprise?”

“Jim’s never liked his birthday and I’m not that fond of it either. It marks a bad day for us.”

“Ah, my condolences.”

“Thanks Blinky.”

Soon Jim and Toby were arriving and you had to hide. Jim wouldn't need to be there to ‘stop Aaarrrgghh’ if you were there.

"Hurry run," someone yelled as soon as they saw Jim and Toby.

"It's too late, master Jim. Aaarrrgghh has lost his mind. Save yourself!" you heard Blinky yell.

"I thought Aaarrrgghh was at your house!" Jim asked Toby then he turned to see Aaarrrggh charging. "Oh my gosh. Was it the kitty litter?"

"What the-" Jim yelped as Aaarrrgghh picked him up.

“Surprise!” You called out after Jim realized what was going on.

“Happy birthday Jimbo,” Toby said.

"Happy birthday Jim!" You yelled, a bright smile on your face.

"Happy birthing day, master Jim!" Blinky exclaimed.

Jim looked around in shock.

"Good actor," Aaarrrgghh grunted. You walked up to Jim and smiled.

"Tobias informed us of your human surprise birthday customs. Are you not surprised?!" Blinky stated enthusiastically.

"Uh...that would be one word for it."

"I was convincing," Aaarrrgghh said proudly and you patted him on the back.

"Sixteen years a propitious milestone. Sixteen is when young trolls master command of their bowels." Blinky informed and you wrinkled your nose.

The fanfare came to a halt though as Vendel arrived. "The hero's forge sacred proving grounds for Trollhunters past, present, and future, reduced to mockery."

Your attention snapped to Aaarrrgghh as he popped a balloon. "Balloons pop."

You turned back to Vendel. "It is only temorary, sir. Jim has had a difficult time recently and this was just to show him a little fun," you explained.

"Fine, but you will remove them post-haste. I don't want anything to delay the troll hunters training."

You smiled as you watched Vendel leave then you turned to your brother.

“I know today isn’t your favorite day. It isn’t mine either, but I want you to be happy okay? I’ll let Toby take it from here and I’ll  take care of any trollhunting stuff,” you said hugging Jim tightly.

“Thanks Y/n.”

“Anytime and make sure you have fun,” you pulled away and placed your hands on his shoulders. He was sixteen now, it seemed like just yesterday you were holding him for the first time while your mom watched nervously.

You turned to Toby and mouthed “good luck.” Then you were off to work.

You were only taking a half day if Jim wanted to hang out, but you understood he didn’t so while you worked you pondered what to do next. If there was an emergency then that would take your time, but as far as you knew there weren’t any. You could go and read more of the book you got or you could train. But in the end you decided to go and investigate where Douxie found the book.

At around one thirty you hung up your apron and walked over to the bookshop. This time an ‘on break’ sign was hanging in the window, but you were willing to wait.

You didn’t have to wait long because after you read the sign and moved away from the window Douxie opened the door.

“What brings you here?”

“I have a couple of questions,” you explained.

“Come in.” He held open the door for you and you walked inside. Once inside he led you upstairs to and through another door which appeared to be an apartment. He took a seat at a small dining table and you sat across from him.

“Ask away.”

You took a nervous breath. “Where did you get the book that you gave me the other day?”

“Oh it’s been in the inventory for ages. I think it’s always been in the shop.”

“Okay and there wouldn’t be any more copies out there?” You asked.

“Nope, you’ve got the only one.” His words put you at ease. Somehow you managed to find the only copy of a book written nine hundred years ago by Merlin. That was incredibly lucky.

“Okay, thanks.” You leaned towards the cat to pet him and you realized that you didn’t know his name.

You opened your mouth to ask when your phone rang. You didn’t recognize the number, but it was an Arcadian area code so you decided to answer.

“Hello?” You asked and Douxie walked away towards the register.

“Is this the sorceress?!” The voice, which you recognized as Bagdwella’s, asked loudly. You looked over to Douxie to see if he had heard, but he appeared busy.

“Yes, it’s me. How did you get this number?”

“The Trollhunter left it.” You sighed, hoping that this was at least a real emergency.

“How may I help you?” You asked.

“My sister sent me something in the mail and it got sent to the human town of Hesperia. I need you to get it.”

“I’m sorry, you want me to drive all the way to Hesperia?”

“Yes and hurry. You don’t want troll magic to hurt some humans do you?” She asked then and hung up.  

You took an annoyed deep breath and looked at the time on your phone. You would make it back in time for dinner with your mom.

You turned to Douxie and began stroking his cat. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I unfortunately have to drive out to Hesperia.”

“Do you mind if I join you?” It took you a second to register what Douxie had asked you.

You blinked slowly. “I mean it’s not going to be much fun. I’m going to pick up a package, but, um, sure.”

“Alright, just let me close up shop.”

“Take your time.” You took a seat and looked at the texts that Bagdwella had sent you regarding the address of the post office. It was a little difficult to decipher the misspelled words, but you eventually were able to type the right address into your gps.

Douxie came back down the stairs. “Do you mind if I bring Archie? I promise he’ll be great.” He gestured to the cat and you smiled, what an adorably sophisticated name.

“Works for me.” You walked out to your car and got in.

“So,” you began, “why do you want to go to Hesperia?”

“I have a few friends I’d like to see,” he responded looking out the window as Arcadia flew past.

You smiled, “You can do that while I get the package. You don’t want to wait with me in the post office anyways.”

“Yeah.” The two of you settled in for the hour long drive.

~~~~

“Are you sure you don't need me to drive you anywhere? It’s just a bunch of houses out here,” you offered and Douxie shook his head.

“It looks like a lovely day to walk and my friend doesn’t live too far from here.”

“Alright enjoy your walk.” You smirked as you got out of the car and the wind blew his hair every which way.

“Oh, don’t laugh at me. Your hair is just as wild.” You laughed, after spending the drive with Douxie, this impromptu road trip wasn’t feeling so inconvenient anymore.

“See you back here at five?”

“See you then, darling.” He walked off with Archie and you started to do the same. As you made your way through the windy parking lot you did your best to not dwell on the nickname he had given you.

After spending an hour in the car with him, talking and listening to music, he was bound to give you a nickname at some point. You had definitely seen your friendship grow as you chatted.

A ding that sounded as you entered the freezing cold post office brought you back to reality. There was unfortunately a long line and you took out your phone to pass the time. You were glad you thought ahead to scan some of the trollish books for later.

Slowly the line got shorter, but as you waited, you felt odd, as if someone was watching you. You tried to ignore the feeling as you got to the front of the line and it eventually went away.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up a package for Bagdwella,” you said with false enthusiasm.

“Your name is Bagdwella?” The girl who was helping you asked.

“Unfortunately.” The girl gave a sympathetic smile and you once again got the feeling you were being watched. You quickly spun around to look, but saw nothing.

The last time someone had been watching was the day your brother got his amulet and that was Blinky. This time Blinky was in Arcadia and it was very sunny outside.

You decided to shove the thoughts aside as the girl began to ask you questions. She left to go get the package and you turned to scan the room again. You spotted movement outside the windows and was tempted to investigate, but the girl came back.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” You went out to your car to wait for Douxie.

As you were waiting Jim called. “Y/n! There’s some crazy troll that can show up in sunlight and it wants to kill me!”

“A stalkling!” You let out a small yelp. “Those things are crazy dangerous. Are you okay? Why didn't you call me earlier?”

“I'm fine, Blinky says I should be fine as long as I’m not alone. I have practice for the play tonight and then mom is picking me up." He sighed. "And I didn't tell you because Bagdwella said you were busy. I didn't want to worry you, but I realized I should at least let you know.”

“Okay, thanks. I’m in Hesperia on an errand for Bagdwella, and one of my coworkers is with me. I’ll hurry home.”

“No, I should be fine.”

“Are you sure Jim?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, stay safe and if you need to call me!”

“I will, no need to worry.” He hung up and you sighed. You were definitely worried.

Douxie showed up soon and gave you his charming smile. He held up a bag. “I got some food.”

You smiled brightly as he opened up the bag to reveal donuts. You could definitely use some comfort food.

“Yum!” You hopped in the car and began to drive. You turned towards the freeway, but last minute pulled off onto a dirt road.

The sun was slowly setting and it was filling the sky with gorgeous pinks, purples and oranges.  The few clouds that were in the sky only added to the picture. The colors against the still sky blue background stood out and shined. It was a spectacular view.

“The sunsets in the desert are the best,” you explained as you began to eat your donut.

“I’ve seen some pretty spectacular sunsets,” Douxie said, “and this one is definitely up there.”

The two of you ate as the sun began to completely disappear and the stars were barely appearing as you began to drive through the mountains.

It had been really nice to spend some time with Douxie and get to know him. Archie was adorable as well and remarkably well behaved. You would definitely treasure the memory of watching the sunset to together.

~~~~

You were fifteen minutes away from Arcadia when it began to rain. Thunder sounded along with the bass in the music and the sky flashed brightly.

Your phone began to ring and you asked Douxie to answer it.

“You’re on speaker Jimbo,” you said.

“Hey, Y/n, please tell me your back from...your errand.”

“I’m fifteen minutes out, why?”

“I really need you to pick me up. Mom can’t and Claire just got picked up. There’s...something out here. I'm going to start riding for home. I'll meet you at the bridge.”

“I’ll be there soon. Call Toby.” Douxie hung up and you began to accelerate. It was dangerous with the wind and rain, but you would protect your brother at all costs.

“Please drop me off at the bookstore.” Douxie requested as you sped down the street, discreetly using magic to keep the two safe.

“Alright.” You turned onto the street and pulled to the side next to the bookstore. You anxiously waited as Douxie hopped out of your car and waved goodbye. You gave a weak smile before speeding off towards the bridge.

You arrived just in time to see Jim being carried higher and higher into the lightning riddled sky. You let out a pained scream as you saw Jim hold up his sword.

Aaarrrgghh and Toby ran up to your car as you got out.

“What do we do?” You cried. Lightning hit Jim and you screamed again. He and the Stalkling began to fall. Aaarrrggh rushed to catch Jim and the Stalkling shattered on the ground before you.

Aaarrrgghh cradled Jim and he slowly woke up. You let out a cry and hugged Toby, the two of you let tears of joy fall. Jim was alive.

The four of you made your way to Trollmarket where Blinky said he had another surprise for Jim. He covered Jim's eyes then revealed to him a 1955 Vespa, something you knew he had always wanted.

You watched the excitement in your brothers face grow as Blinky said they could build the Vespa together. Things were looking up for the two of you.

****

A/n: The place in Hesperia is real and the sunsets there are spectacular. The best I've ever seen. Anyways, I want to write a bit of this from Douxie’s POV so expect that tomorrow. I hope you enjoyed this and have a great day/night. Stay safe! :)

Chapter 4.5: https://writings-of-a-daphodil.tumblr.com/post/627488305535205376/fire-keeper-chapter-45

[yayeetsonny]

New Beginnings~Chapter 3

This is shorter than I’d like but hopefully that’s okay. I noticed my timeline was all screwed up so the book is actually set in 2020, my bad. Also the pandemic doesn’t exist in this universe. Enjoy!

4 1/2 Months later…

Ryley PRO//

It’s been over 4 months since my accident and I am finally out of all my casts and no longer have to use a wheelchair to get around or write with my other hand. I won’t sugar coat it the first 4 months were hell and there was a lot of tears and lot of moments where I wanted to give up but Christen, Alex and our teammates made it all worth it. They helped me through the lows of physical therapy and they were there to celebrate the highs too. They had to return home after the first 2 weeks but came to visit at least once a month if not more. I was initially worried that I wasn’t going to recover in time for the Olympics at the end of July but after putting in a lot of work and pushing myself past my limits sometimes I was able to get through physical therapy much sooner than expected and I was able to show Vlatko that I still deserved a spot on that roster.

After that scare I had in the first month when I woke up not being able to breath the girls took me to a doctor and I learned that I did in fact have asthma and that I had experienced a laryngospasm because of it. I was given an inhaler and everything was explained to me so now I know what to do if it happens again, but I haven’t had one since, nor have I had any asthma attacks. Alex and Chris hovered a lot after that but now they’re much better at trusting that I’ll be okay.

I ended up finishing my junior year online and when I was able I moved back to the group home in Colorado. I didn’t want to but I couldn’t remain under Christen and Alex’s care if I wanted to be able to travel with the team this summer to Japan. They would have had to adopt me in order for that to work but I still wasn’t ready and they understood. We still text and call all the time of course and they come to visit me when they can. I still haven’t told them the true extent of how poorly I’m treated here but I decided that was for the best. 

It was warm out today and I had decided to ride my skateboard around town, my free time before I had to leave for the olympics was coming to an end so I had to take full advantage of it. We would be getting on a plane in a week and then hopefully we would return home with the gold and we could say that we pulled off the impossible: World Cup champions one year and olympic gold medalist the next. 

I reluctantly decide to head back to the group home after another hour and when I get there it’s no surprise that the house is full of potential adoptive parents and families. After politely introducing myself to a few of the people I make my way upstairs knowing no one would be interested in getting to know me. I check my phone and see I have a few texts and missed calls from Alex.

“Hey sweet girl, hope you’re having a good day. Chris and I Love and miss you.”

Read one text

I decided to call her as I had been missing their voices. She picked up on the third ring

“Hello?” Came her raspy voice through the phone.

“Hi Alex.”

“Well hello my sweet girl, how are we doing today?”

“I’m doing good, I miss you guys though.”

“I know but we’ll see you really soon.”

“Next week, do you think we’re ready?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be baby.”

“Am I ready?”

“Don’t second guess yourself, of course you are. You are going to do amazing I just know it.”

“Thank you for always believing in me.”

“Always have, always will. I love you kid.”

“I love you too.”

“I gotta go but we’ll see you soon okay?”

“See you soon. Tell Chris I said Hello and that I love her too.”

“I will, bye R.J.”

“Bye Alex.”

While I was talking to Alex I was completely unaware of Ms.Williams listening outside the door and when I hung up Ms. Williams stormed into my room, completely disregarding my “Knock first.” Sign, yanked my phone out of my hand and prevented me from taking it back,

“This is now mine, thank you.”

“What did I even do?!” 

“You were talking to that Alex Morgan girl.”

“Okay first of all she’s a grown ass woman and second, why is that such a problem?”

“Whenever you talk to her or that Christen girl they give you false hope.”

“What? Again, they’re grown women, not teenagers. What do you mean “false hope”? That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“I’m talking about the fact that you think you’re going to the Olympics.”

“I am going, I already made the roster.”

“If you think I’m going to let you leave the country while I’m still responsible for you, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“You can’t just not let me go! That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair.”

“You can’t stop me from going, it’s my life.”

“While you live here I decide what you can and can’t do.”

“Well, then I just won’t live here then.”

“Pfft, where are you gonna go then?”

“Anywhere is better than here.”

“If you leave now you’re not allowed to come back.”

“I don’t care. Give me my phone.”

She threw my phone on the bed and left, leaving me to grab my duffle bag and get out of here. I packed only things I would need, grabbing my board I started to climb out the window, using the tree by my window I was able to get down safely and remain unseen by the families that were still in the house. I didn’t know where I was going to go and I realized this was probably a really dumb thing to do but I couldn’t give Karen the satisfaction of knowing I had backed out. 

I just started walking in a random direction and kept going until I couldn’t anymore. When I took in my surroundings I realized that I had already walked pretty far and that it was getting dark, if I wanted to find at least a semi-safe place to sleep I need to start looking. 

I was able to find a good enough bridge to sleep under for the night and settled there. Chris and Alex are so going to kill me.

The next week flew by, I was able to make the bridge a “home” of sorts and I was able to do some chores for the manager of the grocery store I walked to everyday and in exchange he paid me with food. This way I could save my money for Tokyo and for getting more clothes before I left. I knew that he had his suspicions about me being homeless but he never brought it up and by the time it was time for me to go to the airport we had become good friends and I even told him about the team and going to Tokyo. As for showering I was able to convince the owner of one of the gyms in town to let me take showers there without having a membership. I was just wrapping up my last day of chores when the manager of the store, Kevin came out of his office to see me off.

“Hey kid, you leavin’?”

“Yeah, I’ll miss you Kev.”

“I’ll miss you as well kid, good luck in Tokyo. Bring home the gold.”

“Yes sir. I’ll try to visit from time to time.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing you again.”

After we said our goodbyes I grabbed my stuff from the back and started to ride my skateboard to a department store where I could get a suitcase and some more clothes. Then I headed for the airport. It took forever and having to hold a suitcase made it pretty hard to stay balanced but I finally made it and after getting my luggage checked and going through security I just barely made it on time for my flight. I would be flying to Portland first and then from there we fly as a team to Japan. It would be a long couple of days and I’m sure I’m going to be exhausted by the end of all the flying but it’ll all be worth it once we get there.

When I arrived in Portland I was greeted by almost the whole team, a few people’s flights were still just landing or would be arriving shortly. The first people I saw were Chris and Alex, they ran to me and wrapped me up in their arms, smothering me with kisses. I hadn’t told them about anything that happened over the last week, they still thought I was at the group home. It got a little hard when they called me a couple times and there was a lot of commotion on the bridge but I just told them I was out riding around and that it was traffic in the street.

“Hey baby! We missed you so much.”

 Christen all but tackled me to the ground as Alex came around to hug me from behind. We landed on the floor and I found myself in a Chrislex sandwich. 

“I missed you guys too!” I gigged at their excitement

I made my rounds and was sure to say hi to everyone as they arrived and once everyone was together we were ready to head to our gate for our second flight. We had to wait around for an hour or so before we were able to board, I sat in between Al and Chris. Mal, Rose and Sam sat in front of us and Morgan, Kelley, and Emily behind us and Ali, Ash, Megan, Julie, Tobin, Crystal and Lindsey in the rows directly across. Everyone else filled the remaining rows. This 13 hour and 10 minute flight was going to be long and it would probably get really old fast but I knew my teammates would make it fun and entertaining for at least part of the time. 

14 and 1/2 hrs later…

We had finally landed in Tokyo and after almost 15 hours of traveling we got to the hotel and were able to go straight to our rooms. It didn’t surprise me that I had been placed in a room with Christen and Alex, after not seeing each other for a while I was glad to be with them. Everyone was exhausted, so much so that all anyone said to each other as we went to our rooms was “Night.” Or just a grumble as a way to say “See you in the morning.” 

I was allowed first dibs on a bed so I picked the one closest to the window. 

“Goodnight baby love, see you in the morning.” Christen said from her spot on their bed.

“Goodnight kiddo, sleep well.” Alex yawned

“Goodnight guys.”

They both fell asleep instantly and I was left to wonder how I was going to tell them about everything. I knew I had to tell them the truth soon, I just didn’t know how. On one hand I knew that they would be mad that I had taken off from the group home but I also knew they were going to be even more upset that I didn’t tell them. I knew that if I had they would have come to get me and then they could be arrested for kidnapping or something like that if Ms. Williams found out and decided to report me as missing just to spite me. And yes technically she could do that now and it would be 10x worse since I left the country but she’s not going to risk her reputation by doing that. At least I don’t think she would. 

I ran through what I was going to tell them in my head over a dozen times before I was finally able to go to sleep. I knew tomorrow was going to be tough but I just had to hope that I’d be ready to face the music. 

//

Hey guys, this isn't my best work and this is probably all over the place but I hope it was still good. Sorry for mistakes.

- N

Tag list: @slow-dance-in-the-dark​ @messyheath​ @yeetlysonnett​ @anniekin-98​ @kayleighromae​ @ihavebeenchangedforgoodmenzel​ @laikato​

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 11

Chapters: 11/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

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Jon has a terrible, sinking feeling about what he considers their new Mary Keay problem.

He knows Gerry feels more confident that he can deal with her now, as an adult with his own resources and a solid foundation, but Jon doesn't want her ever walking into their lives again.

He feels the threat of her existence hanging over their hard-won peace like an anvil on a lace string.

"I think we should try to find her," Jon tells Martin one evening when they’re alone in bed. Gerry is downstairs painting, and even though he almost certainly can't hear them, Jon whispers it like a dirty secret.

"You think-" Martin looks up from his book with an almost comically incredulous look on his face. "You think we should look for a murder who threatened your life?"

Utterly uninterested in secrets between the three of them, Martin does not attempt to speak quietly.

"Well, when you put it like that," Jon grumbles, returning his attention to his book and pretending to drop it.

The next day at work, he puts his researching skills to the test. It doesn't even take very long, and in less than an hour, he has an address in Morden, where she apparently owns a bookstore of all things.

The information available is fairly spartan, updated more than a year ago, but Jon can see enough. He can see that she lives less than an hour from Gerry, and it itches at him.

He knows he shouldn't go. Knows that Martin and Gerry will be furious if they ever find out that he snooped, nevermind if he goes there and unsettles old ghosts..

But still, he takes a half-day off from work and gets on a bus to Morden.

*

When Jon arrives and finds the storefront boarded up, he is half reassured, half perturbed. He had felt almost relieved when he had a concrete lead to follow, but now all he has is more questions.

"She's dead."

Jon startles at being unexpectedly spoken to and turns towards a teen girl sitting in the storefront doorway next door.

"She died, like a while ago? Apparently she lost her shit and cut herself up with a piece of glass. Bleed to death on the floor." She inclines her head towards the dilapidated bookstore. She seems quite taken with the gossip, as if it's the most interesting thing to ever intercept with her boring life. It probably is, Jon thinks, uncharitably.

"When did it happen?" He prods, hoping for as many details as possible.

"Oh, like two years ago?" She nods at herself in confirmation. "You can go in if you want. It's haunted. People are always going in to see if they can find Mary's ghost."

Jon shudders, feeling that Mary's ghost is already plenty present enough in his life. He asks how to get in anyway.

Jon doesn't find any obvious ghosts inside, only a lot of dust, a few vandalised books, and a trashed building.

There's a staircase leading upwards and he stares up at the upper landing for a moment, weighing his options. Might as well , he thinks, and proceeds up it carefully.

There's literally nothing but more dust, and Jon descends into a sneezing fit just as he is deciding to cut his losses, feeling slightly dizzy.

The sneezing turns into coughing, and Jon takes a step back to lean against a wall.

But the wall isn't there, and he falls.

And falls.

And falls.

*

Jon calls Martin from the hospital. He’s down in Brighton, meeting with a business supplier, and Jon assumes this makes it a safe bet he'll arrive without Gerry. He assumes wrong.

Gerry arrives, alone, in half the time it would take Martin to make the trip, looking flustered and scared.

"How did you get here so fast?" Jon demands incredulously, made short by his shame and physical discomfort.

"How did I-" Gerry pauses and takes a deep breath, but his next words are still slightly shrill. "I took a fucking Uber, Jonathan. How did you get here?"

Jon opens his mouth, but Gerry cuts him off as he goes on.

"You went looking for Mary, didn't you?" Jon's guilty face must tip him off, because he simply goes on, pacing angrily. "Christ, Jon! What the hell were you expecting to find? And you know what, Martin didn't even sound surprised when he called me to tell me you were here. You know, I can understand this uncommunicative bullshit from you, but not Martin."

"That's not very nice," Jon grouses.

"And do you think it was nice for me to hear from Martin that you were hurt? I'm glad to know he was your one and only phone call from an ambulance."

"Gerry-"

"Don't fucking Gerry me."

"I'm sorry," Jon says, looking down at his hands.

"Are you, Jon? Because you don't even know the worst part yet. If you had asked me, I could have told you Mary was dead, and then we wouldn't be in this mess at all."

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew! I was her next of kin!"

Gerry stops, pressing his fingers into his eyes and blowing a hard breath out. He takes several more breaths, heart-pounding, anxiety through the roof.

"Jon, how hurt are you?" Gerry asks quietly, coming closer to gently take a hand.

"Just a few bruises." Gerry raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "A mild concussion." And the other. "Maybe a few broken ribs."

"Oh, my sweet, sweet idiot. How loving you makes me want to climb the walls sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" Jon fills his voice with false levity, although it comes out rather shaky.

Gerry grunts, but leans down to kiss his forehead very gently. It's a minuscule point of contact, but Jon knows Gerry and can feel the tremble of fear (fear for him, who would have thought), and the tension of his frustration.

"I'm going to go talk to the doctor, okay? Just- just take it easy. Everything will be fine, love."

Jon doesn't believe him, not really, but he lets Gerry go. There's a lot of noise and movement after that, and Jon's head spins through most of it. Gerry is there, talking to doctors, querying the tests they want to run, and just generally making his opinion in regards to his partner's care very clear.

*

Martin knows it's bad when he arrives at the hospital and finds Gerry chain-smoking in the parking lot. His expression mostly just looks exhausted, but in his favorite black trench coat, and most intimidating combat boots, he looks ready to burn something down.

"That bad, huh?" Martin tries, but Gerry simply waves him towards the entrance, not making eye contact.

Martin almost cuts his losses, wanting to deal with one idiot at a time, but doesn't want to leave Gerry to sulk.

"How is he?" Martin asks.

"He's in one piece. They asked me to leave so they could do the x-rays. Apparently, he fell over a banister."

"A banister? How?"

"Your guess is as good as mine until we can interrogate him." Gerry takes a long, contemplative drag of his cigarette. "But apparently it's not all that bad and as long as the x-rays look clear, we can take him home in a couple of hours."

"He couldn't have chosen a worse time."

Gerry grunts in agreement. "He's going to tell us he wants to go back to his own flat, but that's only because he thinks I'm angry at him."

"And why would he think that?" Martin questions.

Gerry takes another long drag of his cigarette as if testing Martin's attention span, or patience, or both. Martin just waits, still and easy.

Gerry explains what he knows, his earlier outburst, Jon's guilty, stupid face.

When the cigarette is smoked and put out, Martin finally approaches Gerry all the way, and Gerry sinks into his arms gratefully.

"Everything will be fine."

"Hardly. This is my fault to begin with, and I yelled at him. In a hospital bed!"

"It's as good a place as any other, love. Come on, let's go get him so we can take him home."

Martin kisses him gently, before taking his hand and dragging him off to find Jon.

*

"Your partner is very loud." The blonde nurse with the buzzcut tells Jon as she wheels him to imaging.

"In his defense, I'm an idiot." He sighs, causing his battered ribs to ache.

She laughs heartily, wheeling him into an elevator. "Almost everyone I meet as an A&E nurse is. At least you seem like an interesting idiot."

Jon actually smiles, somehow pleased with the observation. "I'm Jon."

"Daisy Tonner." She offers a hand, which Jon shakes as firmly as he can manage. "You seem a bit old for trespassing in haunted houses, Jon."

The elevator dings and she wheels him out into the imaging wing. "I was looking for the woman who died there." Daisy gives him a skeptical look and he sighs dramatically. "I didn't know she was dead."

Daisy nods her understanding. "I remember when she died actually. They brought her here that night. Never seen someone with so much blood loss be so… Erratic. We had to strap her down." Daisy looks contemplative as she recalls the memory.

"She was a crazy bitch to the very end, then?" Jon asks, bitterness creeping through his tone at the woman who caused Gerry (still causes Gerry,) so much pain. Jon doesn't allow himself, yet, to dwell on the heartache of the years of Gerry she took from him.

"For sure," Daisy tells him. "What do you do for a living then?"

"I'm a librarian?" Jon tells her, but it goes up a bit at the end, like a question.

"Really?" Daisy asks wryly, "You don't sound very sure."

Jon considers laughing but remembers his ribs in time to settle on a tired smile. "I do work in a library but to be frank, most of the time I just feel like my boss's busy boy. Always running here and there and doing everything but what I thought I was supposed to be doing."

"Most professions aren't what we think they are when we sign up for them," Daisy observes. She parks his wheelchair outside a door and leans around to let them know a patient is waiting.

"Do you like being a nurse?" Jon asks her when she settles against the wall beside him, looking rather more intimidating than one would expect from the average health care worker.

"Most of the time. Sometimes it can be just exhausting and draining." She shrugs, contemplative. "Sometimes I get a patient that makes all the shit worthwhile. Mostly I just want to deck someone, though."

She cracks up at that and looks down at Jon to give him a feral grin. "Your boyfriend seems like a worthwhile candidate. Very punchable face."

"Careful, he might enjoy it," Jon warns her, deadpan.

They exchange a pointed look for a moment, before bursting into laughter. It pains Jon significantly, but he considers it worthwhile to enjoy the moment with a strange new friend.

*

By the time Daisy returns Jon to his room, both Martin and Gerry are there. Daisy looks pointedly between blue-haired, pierced, goth Gerry, and pink-haired, jumper clad, soft Martin and then eyes up 'born an 85-year old man' Jon for good measure.

Jon just shrugs at her and she nods in acknowledgment, before helping Jon into his hospital bed.

"As soon as the imaging comes through, it'll be checked by the surgeon on duty," Daisy informs them briskly, "then they'll come through and let you know what's happening. You'd best settle in for a bit of a wait. Buzz if you need me."

With a curt nod and a small smile for Jon, Daisy is off.

Martin comes over and pulls Jon into his comfortable arms, pressing his lips to Jon's forehead. He sighs out in relief to have solid reassurance that Jon is alright, alive, and relatively unscathed.

Gerry also moves over from his perch on the windowsill, and folds himself onto the bed, cross-legged in front of his errant partner.

They settle all together, Martin beside Jon, one unwavering arm around his shoulders, Gerry in front of Jon, both of his hands holding both of Jon's.

Jon opens his mouth to apologize.

"I'll go first," Gerry tells him, gently. "I am sorry that I was so upset earlier and that I raised my voice. I was fucking scared and I took it out on you when you needed me to be soft and steady. I'm also sorry that I didn't tell you Mary was dead before."

Jon tries to interrupt now, but Martin silences him with a squeeze.

"I meant to tell you, but it was all very messed up and over-wrought and I honestly forgot." Gerry looks chastised, a rare blush staining his cheeks. "I hope that we can get better at talking these things out so that this doesn't happen again."

He pauses, considering. "And I hope that if I have made you think that you can't talk to me by avoiding telling you things in the past, that you can forgive me and I will do what I need to be better."

Jon is truly floored, and utterly speechless. The words themselves had been a little bit halting and slightly awkward, as Gerry struggled to express himself, but the earnestness proves to Jon just how much Gerry loves him.

"I- I'm sorry too." Jon stutters out. "I'm an idiot but I love you. I hope we can get better at this together."

His words feel downright juvenile after Gerry's acknowledgement, but it's all he's got, pounding head and trapped emotions preventing similar declarations (oh and his total lack of social skills). Gerry beams at him regardless and he leans forwards to kiss Jon sweetly on the forehead.

Martin grabs Gerry's hand and places a kiss on his palm, sending him a significant look. It feels like approval to Jon, and he can't help but appreciate their bond just as much as his own with each of them.

They settle to wait, and they take turns reading from Martin's book to pass the time, each of their voices having a few moments to fill the air and weave around them.

Dr. Basira Hussain eventually comes in, assuring them that Jon's concussion is mild, his ribs are only bruised, and that he should make a full recovery (if he rests), in just a few weeks. They thank her profusely and she leaves them with Daisy to check out.

Gerry goes off to take care of the paperwork and in a few minutes, they're saying goodbye and walking out of the hospital together. Martin and Gerry flank Jon carefully, there to support him if he stumbles.

He also sits between them in the taxi, head on Martin's shoulder and one hand grasped between both of Gerry's. He feels exhausted and floaty from painkillers, and every jolt of the car makes it difficult to breathe.

He smiles, rather unexpectedly. Despite his current predicament, he's glad enough to know that Mary Keay is dead and that chapter of their lives is definitely closed. He does wish he had just asked Gerry, but he hopes that the strained feelings and injuries will blow over and she will finally be out of their lives for good, nothing but a sad, angry memory. A shade living only in the memories of those that didn't know her.